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maria-scribbles · 4 years ago

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glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy!

gif credit to @jj-maybnks

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers.

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!"

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful."

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that.

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor."

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket.

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd.

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline.

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf.

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all.

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now.

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips.

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover.

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed.

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy

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attackfish · 4 years ago

Note

I told you I would be back, :D . Have ever written Aang/Azula swap? Where she's the Avatar. Could this be possible?

This is Avatar Azula AU number two, since I already have one where Fire Princess Azula is the Avatar. Also I have decided Aang, much like Li, is a name common throughout several nations.

1. Ajura grew up at the Western Air temple, under the care of Gyaltsen, a nun and temple elder on the council. The council, including Gyaltsen, make the decision to tell her early that she is the Avatar, that she might begin intensive training in airbending, to hasten the time when she might be able to train in the other elements, and prepare to end the war that the Fire Nation seems intent on launching. Ajura grows up special and apart, with only a thin pretence of having a normal Air Nomad childhood, with the pressure of the world on her shoulders. She is constantly expected to seek perfection in bending, and precision, and Gyaltsen is always telling her that almost will not be good enough when the world's balance is at stake.

2. In the rush, the more spiritual side of Ajura's education is neglected. Someday, Gyaltsen says, she will be able to catch up. And yet it just makes Ajura that much more different from the others. She is the Avatar, she is supposed to be more spiritual, but all that being the Avatar has ever meant from her is the knowledge that she must be perfect, or the world will fall into ruin, and that to be perfect, it's her airbending that must be flawless. The elders often remind her of what Avatar Yangchen had written, that to be the Avatar means to put aside one's own spiritual wellbeing for the sake of the world. The spiritual path all Air Nomads walk, that forms the purpose of their lives, is forever barred to her.

3. When, when she is twelve, she achieves her mastery of airbending, Gyaltsen tells her the council has found her a waterbending teacher. He will be coming here, she will not be leaving. It's safer that way. But before he has a chance to arrive, the Fire Nation attacks. Gyaltsen grabs her and tells her to run, and she takes off on her bison, flying south. There are others who do the same, who scatter from the temple, flying for the other temples. But when she reaches the Southern Air Temple, it's already on fire. Her bison wheels away, flying south, straight into a storm. She falls into the water and knows no more.

4. I already have an AU with Fire Prince Aang, where he is swapped with Zuko, and a lot about Zuko's younger brother is similar to that version. He is too much like Iroh for Ozai's comfort, or for that matter, Iroh's. If Ozai sees all of the things he secretly dislikes about himself in Prince Zuko, he sees his hated brother in Prince Aang. He thinks both his children are worthless, and this is Ursa's fault, and the fault of the weakness in her line. So when Azulon orders Zuko's death and Aang runs straight to his brother to tell him to run, thus inadvertantly finding their mother and telling her too, and Azulon dies and she disappears instead, Ozai quickly remarries.

5. When Zuko is banished, Aang is left alone. He's alone with his father, and his father's new wife, who though at first that marrying the newly crowned Firelord was a pretty good deal, but has since learned better. She's scared and defensive, and at times downright nasty, and meanwhile, Aang is forced to face the full brunt of his father's scorn and hatred alone, while he flaunts his new young daughter in their faces, and subtly insinuates to his wife what will happen if she's just as much a failure as his sons. When, after the debacle that was the Northern Water Tribe invasion, his father tells him that he has a last chance to prove himself worthy or he will be disowned, that he needs to hunt down his brother and uncle, Aang goes.

#avatar the last airbender #aang #azula #zuko #ozai #posts i created #do you want to ask a question it doesn't have to be a question #five headcanons #aang d'awww #azula needs her own warning #zuko is a dweeby little turtleduck #noodle lord ozai #i ship iroh/tea #mother bear ursa

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minervahopebeyond · 4 years ago

Text

Blood Daffodils.

Hi!! I’m so glad I got to update, I have to prepare midterms this week but I promise to try to update as soon as I can (mostly because I know that it’s horrible to wait to know what the fuck is going to happen next). Please let me know what you thought of this one!! ✨ I’m really nervous because it took a lot of work and rewrites 💕Ps: I’ve checked but sorry if you find any errors in this one.

Chapter 12: The aftermath.

The water was so cold that he felt his skin burn as soon as he jumped in, maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

He was already in, though, and he needed that sword. Draco swam, diving into the chilling waters, he was having troubles seeing clearly, so he casted a wordless lumos while he still was underwater. The blond boy attempted to take the sword by the grip, extending his arm to grab it. Come on.

A slender hand closed its long fingers around his wrist. The daffodils reacted almost instantly, cutting him, warning him that they needed to get out of there. The panic was spreading through him like a wave, touching every single fiber in his body. It’s a trap. No, fuck no.

Afraid to look up, still holding his breath, Draco gathered the courage to lift his eyes. As soon as he saw her, as their eyes met, something in his breathing changed...

“You have been running away from me, boy”

Somehow, being under water didn’t seem to affect her at all. Her voice was as enchanting as he remembered, hearing her was like hearing the perfect melody on a piano and wanting, needing to play it over and over again. His heart pumped a little slower at the sound of her voice and Draco was just happy that he had, at least, some strength to free himself from her hand.

He swam up as fast as he could, knowing full well that he was leaving the sword behind him. Just the surface, he just needed to reach to it. At the same time, he was trying to picture the cute little boy in Madam Malkin’s; it was so hard to focus... When he got to the surface he took a breath from fresh air and yelled as he waved his wand.

“Expecto Patronum!”

What came out of the wand wasn’t a lion, he was too distracted for that. The ball of silver was floating and Draco couldn’t be any more thankful. He called the only person who would understand what was happening.

“Weasley! Help!! I-“

Those were the only words that he got to pronounce because he was being sunken back in the lake, being pulled by his ankle with such force that it was unavoidable.

He allowed himself to look at her, the fabric of the white transparent dress floating around her, her silky long black hair framing her beautiful features as she drag Draco into the depth of the lake. When he stopped struggling she took his face in her hands and muttered something that he couldn’t understand.

Suddenly, they weren’t under water. He felt like he was, because the cold was the same, but around him... There wasn’t anything, not water, not air, no stars, no earth... just darkness and nothingness.

“You can’t get out of here unless I allow it.” She stated, standing a few meters away from him.

“Is this the other side?” He asked, fearing that his soul had crossed the veil without realizing it. Her melodic laughter filled the silence.

“No, boy. You still have time. Is that why you keep running away?”

“Maybe...”

“Foolish, I just wanted to talk. You were so polite and kind when we met the first time, I thought that you liked my presence.”

And Draco thought that lying was the most logical option, to say that yes, he loved her and all the things she had in her realm, but he didn’t find it in him to say any of those things.

“I apologize, your highness.” Was the only thing that came out instead.

“There is no need for such formalities. I’ll just cut to the chase, your friends are coming.” Thank fuck.“You have something that belongs to me, I want it back.”

Draco frowned, his heart pounding against his chest.

“Yo-you made a deal! You can’t take James away-“

“Do you always jump to conclusions? I will not take James Fleamont Potter back with me, nor do I wish to take you sooner to the other side.” The flowers seemed to relax at her clarification. “It is not a soul. I can not tell you what it is, there are rules that forbid me to speak of it. But I want it back, I was young and reckless when I made it and I wish to have it back.”

“And I have to find this...? Even if I don’t know what it is or how does it look like?” He tried not to offend her but it sounded ridiculous.

“The only thing I can say is that you actually have two things that belong to me. One you can keep, I do not care for it, the other one is the one I want.”

He felt the change of temperature, like a distant sensation that was surrounding his body. He looked around, still nothingness.

“Your redhead friend does not like me very much, he is threatening me, saying that I should let you alone or else.” She said smoothly, chuckling as she mentioned Weasley. “Do you promise to find it?” Draco nodded.

“I’ll do my best.”

She walked to where he was, putting a hand on his forehead.

“I know, you are an awfully committed soul.” She said and pushed him back, the ‘nothingness floor’ disappeared under him and he was falling into the darkness.

He could hear their voices, like they were muffled. His head was killing him and his eyes were heavy, he tried to opened them but failed. There was pressure in his chest...

“Come on, Draco!!” He heard Granger scream. “One, two, three, four..”

“Kid, please wake up.”

“Enervate! Enervate, you stupid ferret!”

“Ron you are not helping!!” Her voice achieved a high pitch tone that Draco had never heard before. Then, he felt someone open his mouth and pinch his nose. Air was being blowed into his mouth repeatedly... when the press in his chest started again, he coughed.

“Oh thank god.” Granger breathed out in relief.

Draco was coughing, the cold water coming out from his lungs with the daffodils included. He tried to formulate the words in between the coughs.

“The...sword-“

“Ferret?”

“She- Her “ The petals wouldn’t stop coming out. “Is in the lake- I - I have to get it.” He said and pushed himself up, or at least he tried to... His legs failed him and he was caught by someone. The cheap cologne filled his nostrils... Potter.

“You are not going anywhere”

“The sword of Gryffindor... In the lake... I have to...”

I have to get it.

His eyes were heavy again, Draco wanted to remain awake... He tried to, with all his strength to walk again.

Everything went black.

—————————

"Harry, you need to go to sleep." He raised his eyes when he heard the voice of his father.

He needed for Malfoy to wake up, actually. In just a couple of hours it would be a whole day since the boy passed out. They had casted the heating charms as soon as Ron got him out of the lake and throwed him in hot water when they got to the house... His temperature seemed to rise, which was a good thing because he was so cold... But the truth was that, now, the coldness was replaced with a fever. It worried him, Hermione said that it was normal, with the temperature that he had to endure it would be worrisome for him not to get sick.

“I’m fine.” He replied as he moved on the chair, trying to be more comfortable.

His father sighed and closed the door again, he could hear him talking with Padfoot outside, complaining about the situation. They should mind their own business. After what the horcrux said to Sirius when he was trying to destroy it...

‘I know you, Sirius Orion Black. Your soul is the darkest. Neglected by your parents who always liked your brother better. Disowned by your family because of a love that was never requited... You never were his first choice, were you? Even now, he is only with you because his true love isn’t here. He feels pity for you, just like the Potters did. They never loved you, not truly, Euphemia just put up with you because of his son-‘

And Sirius brandished the sword, breaking the locket. After the horcrux was destroyed he said: ‘That’s a lie, I was Euphemia’s favorite’ While that made Harry like his grandmother a whole lot, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they should talk if the man still thought that his dad was only with him because his mother wasn’t around.

He turned to look at the blond boy again, and reached to move his hair out of his face before checking his temperature. Still high, fuck.

“You have no idea of how angry I am. None. I swear.” Harry said with an exasperated tone. “But... It will be worst if you don’t wake up. Is... Is She keeping you there? Ron told us, he screamed bloody murder when the patronus came to get him, woke us all up.” He took a deep breath and got up from the chair to sit at the bed, next to the boy, to be closer to him. He grabbed the boy’s hand and started to trace the line on his palm. “Why didn’t you tell me, Draco...? I keep trying to understand why did you lie about the cottage, and I find no explanation, you know? Because there is none, you should have told us.” Harry felt the tears start to course down his cheeks, his glasses were starting to get tarnished from the crying so he took them off. “ I’m not useless. I can help you, I swear... I- I know I haven’t been much help with all this except for maybe distracting you, but I’m trying.”

He felt so helpless. He loved this boy so much that his body physically ached when they were not together and Draco didn’t even consider him to tell him his problems. ‘He would have told Nott’ The toxic little voice in his head kept on whispering, making him feel madder and madder by the minute.

“I care about you.” The words left his lips, his voice so thin and weak. “I know that we are not supposed to talk about our feelings or whatever but I do. And I don’t want you to die,much less before we get our time together... I’m babbling, I know. You hate when I do that.”

“Harry...” Draco’s voice sounded rough and tired, he widened his eyes.

“Draco?” The dark haired boy moved to check his temperature again, the fever was increasing. Fuck. The other boy opened his eyes, they seemed lost, even when they found Harry’s green ones.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t talk, please. I’m going to call someone, see if we can give you pepper-up again-“

“I’m sorry for maki- making fun of you.” He was gone in his own thoughts... Harry knew that because his eyes couldn’t focus and his voice was all sleepy. He felt like his heart was being squeezed just from the sight. Why did this felt like a goodbye? “I saw your mother... Lily is nice... Maybe we can be friends after-“

The blond boy’s rant was cut short by Harry’s screaming, asking for someone to come quick. He saw his mother, the boy saw his mother and Death all in the same day and now his fever was higher... This felt like a goodbye because- No. He wasn’t going to think about that. Not now, they still have time.

The door opened and everyone entered the room. It was normal now, after what happened they were all equally worried. Originally, they were going to take turns to look after Malfoy, but since Harry refused to leave his side, it didn’t work out.

“Ferret! You are awake!” Ron exclaimed with happiness, the dark haired boy let out a sob as more tears came out of his eyes.

“He is not, I think he is hallucinating or talking in his sleep... I don’t think he will remember what he is saying. He just apologized to me, for everything, he said he saw my mom-“ His voice came out strangled, talking through the lump in the back of his throat was getting painful. “I can’t be here if he is saying goodbye. I can’t- give him something, please. His fever-“

Suddenly he was being pulled out of the room in Padfoot’s arms, the man said that he couldn’t be there for a goodbye either and that just made Harry cry even harder because it felt too real and he wanted for all to be just a bad dream.

His godfather pour him a glass of water and put it in the little table next to them. Not that he could drink anything right now but it was a thoughtful gesture. They sat on the couch, hugging each other while they listened to the other three argue up there about what could be the best thing to give to the boy. It was too much.

“How did you do it?” Harry asked with a thin voice. Sirius didn’t respond, maybe he was waiting for a him to clarify what he meant. “How did you live fourteen years of your life without him? I can’t even picture myself existing if he doesn’t call me Potter or Scarhead once a day. I can’t imagine not hearing his voice, I-“

“It’s the pain.” Padfoot answered with a calm voice as he brushed his fingers through Harry’s hair, trying to sooth him. “The pain reminds you that you are alive and you keep living because it’s what they would have wanted. In my case, knowing that I had to get to you eventually was a big help... focusing on other things.”

“I don’t want to focus on other things. It’s hard enough knowing that he is going to marry someone else and I’m going to die alone, because I don’t want anyone else. But... but I thought that maybe i could still be in his life, you know? Being his friend... I’ll put up with Nott, I don’t care.” He looked away, embarrassed because he was about to confess something that he had never told anyone, something that made him feel like the worst person ever. “And... maybe with time I could be something more... I wouldn’t mind keeping it a secret-“

“Oh, Prongslet, no. You don’t want to be-“

“Don’t lecture me, Padfoot. Wouldn’t you have done the same if dad offered? Even if he was married and had a family.” Sirius sighed, a sad look on his eyes.

“Yes.” His godfather replied and Harry was glad to hear it.

At least he wasn’t the only one.

—————-

Harry woke up in his own bed, alone. He remembered talking with Padfoot on the couch, he didn’t remember falling asleep... Just drinking water... Oh. Sneaky little bastard.

“Good morning.” Was this..? Was he still dreaming?

He turned around and there he was, looking all gorgeous. He had one of Ron’s sweaters on, maybe he was still cold, but he didn’t looked sick at all. Harry felt like a weight on his chest had been lifted.

“Before you say anything, I’m going to talk because every single person in this house has already lectured me.” Malfoy said before taking a sit on his bed and grabbing Harry’s hand. It was warm... but the right amount, no fever, no freezing water temperature, alive and well. He locked his green eyes in his stormy grey ones, encouraging for him to go on. “I didn’t tell you about the cottage because I was afraid that She was looking for your father or for me, and I didn’t want to worry you. I went looking for the sword because I saw your mother’s patronus, given the fact that I’ve been seeing Death I thought it could be her so I followed. We are not sure that it was her now, or Death trying to pull me closer... It doesn’t matter though. I’m sorry, okay? For everything. For not telling you, for going there alone, for making you cry, I’m sorry.”

“Can you kiss me?” Is the only thing that Harry could reply after his monologue. He tugged Draco’s hand and guided him close, he needed to feel like everything was real.

And when Malfoy kissed him, he felt like everything was alright again, like the day before was just this nightmare and the blond boy just came to wake him up, like he always did.

“I have this vague memory that I’ve already told you this... But I’m sorry about mocking you about your parents... For both of them. They are great and you are just like them... That’s a good thing. And what it’s not like them, it’s like Sirius and that’s amazing too.”

Harry blushed as a soft smile appeared on his lips. How could this boy make him be even more in love with him? How? It wasn’t normal, this amount of love for a single person wasn’t natural.

“I-“ ‘I love you, so much that you can do with me what you want, okay? I’m going to be happy being whatever it is that you want me to be: your friend, your lover, your partner, your husband. Just ask for it and I’ll do it.’ It was in moments like this when he understood why he was supposed to be in slytherin. The words died in his throat, there was no way he could say that to Malfoy’s face. He lacked the courage, it just wasn’t in him.

“You... what?” The grey eyed boy was looking at him, expectant, like if whatever Harry was about to say was the most important thing ever.

“I like you. I really really like you.” He said and his face was blushed crimson red. But the smile in Draco’s face was blinding, so it was worth the embarrassment. The blond boy leaned and planted a soft kiss on his lips again and another one on his nose, playfully.

“I really like you too. Really” He said and then he pushed some of Harry’s hair off his face. “Do you forgive me? I mean- you don’t have to. I know I was a terrible person for a long time but-“

“I do.” He said calmly as he offered a smile to the boy. “I think I forgave you a long time ago but thank you for apologizing. It means a lot.”

And he kissed Draco again, smiling in between the kisses and feeling utterly happy the whole time.

He is here, he is here and he is safe and healthy and we have time.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

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deviant3lover · 5 years ago

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Personal Headcanons for the Trio

On a rare spark of inspiration, I’ve decided to compile my list of headcanons for the Trio for you all to look at if you’re interested. :)

I tried my best to make them rooted in canon so that they may be plausible while still allowing me to indulge. ;)

Putting this under Read More because boy, it is long.

Metal Bat/Badd

- From my asks to @atinychai, Badd likes traditionally masculine things because it makes him feel empowered and keeps most people away. He shows almost all the traits: being into sports, working out, being fierce and intimidating… all except for being attracted to women. (Came as a real shock to him too: his team often found girls cute but Badd couldn’t help but notice that some guys were pretty hot and nobody pointed it out. Doubly so because he loves the thought of being married one day and none of the ladies appealed to him.)

- Very straightforward thinker, but unlike Genos, he isn’t completely tactless or over the top with it. His thought process focuses on what needs to be done, what is needed to do it, and to do it ASAP. Considerations are taken into account, such as what would happen if he doesn’t do it right or in a certain way. This is especially good for him since he’s a busy guy even by S-Class standards, but it does leave him vulnerable to not thinking through long term plans that well.

- The most empathetic and physically affectionate of the three. He keeps his tough look on him in public and in private, but he’s one of the first people to offer to hug it out if you’re breaking down.

(Obviously where no one can see it: that’s embarrassing on you and would attract too much unwanted attention to him, so he makes sure there’s no one watching. If there is, he’ll clap you on the shoulder, look you in the eye, and offer some advice and encouragement.)

Young boys and teenagers look up to him, and they usually feel better about crying into his shirt when Badd tells them how hard it was to stop himself from bursting into tears at his first loss in a match, or when he was trying to keep quiet for Zenko’s sake at her recital.

- Continuing on that note, he keeps a nice relationship with some of his sporty fans. Not anything too intensive, but he’ll keep track of the boys who come to him asking him what he was like on his baseball team, what to do if there’s infighting in their group, which ones are worried about their baseball matches and he gives them a proud congrats if they win, or a consolation + inspiration to do better next time if they lost.

- When he’s not blinded by anger, Badd’s surprisingly pretty adept at being a social expert. His experiences of being on the baseball team + hanging out with problem students like him has given Badd a pretty good perspective on both the popular kids and the hated, loner kids, as well as what they’re going through. As a result, he’s usually well received by them. Feels a little embarrassed and uncomfortable around smart kids though, especially when they explain something that sounds a little complicated to him.

- Back in his younger days prior to all the responsibilities piled on top of him, Badd was a pretty good leader for his baseball team. He checked in regularly with his team mates, their equipment, their training regimens, and their upcoming opponents. He helped some of his team mates with confidence issues, and made sure to keep in check with how they’re doing to prevent in-team fighting. All-star baseball team in their region for sure. :3

- In the future, I imagine that Badd might take up some boxing after taking a hint from all the times monsters knocked his bat out of his hands away from him. Lost his weapon? He’ll use his fists until he can get it back again, and he’ll use them well. Turns out loves the sport, but baseball will always have a special place in his heart.

- He empathizes easily with people experiencing stress; he goes through that daily with everything he has to take care of- but he’s more clueless with issues such as mental illness. Badd’s a little insensitive about it, sometimes suggesting things to take care of it which don’t work, but he’s trying his best to understand what someone is going through and knows enough to know that it isn’t something that can’t be solved by blowing off steam or cutting off some bad things in your life. Gets pissed off if someone dismisses it as ‘something that’s all in their head’ or ‘they’re crazy’ and will confront them. Forcing apologies out of the offender isn’t out of the question. Might want to stop him before he gets too pissed off.

- Like you’d expect, he’s a pretty big fan of sports, but in a more casual way. He likes hearing about his favorite athletes, training regimens, and certain meals/diets that helped stars to build up/maintain their strength and skill, but doesn’t obsessively get himself involved in the subject. On a more sentimental note, Badd finds some solace with famous athletes because they had to work hard to get where they needed to be, and on top of that, have to deal with the pressures that come with their popularity; whether they like it or not.

- Despite not having much time to cultivate attention to honing his skill and interest in cooking, he loves Gordon Ramsay. Seeing him rip entitled, spoiled people apart with words alone and gently encouraging + teaching kids has him placed high on Badd’s list of celebrities that he respects.

- Badd is a Closeted Romantic and a Family Man. Always found it touching where in some old action/thriller films, the male married lead thinks about his wife and kids back home and tells himself that he shouldn’t die, powering through the pain/adversity to get back to them. At some point it shifted to him liking some intense drama/action movie focusing on romance where the couple race against time to get to each other before it’s too late. The idea that someone you love and treat as an equal might actually be gone forever really gets him, and if done right, he’ll cry.

- Cannot, for the love of him, focus well on books. He’s literate, but he always wants to get to the most important stuff, often skimming over details that might be important later on. This is also evident in how he writes, explaining something simply and to the point, which makes him pretty good at teaching kids basic, simplified concepts, but not so good at constructing incredibly thought out and nuanced writing. Books and audio books just aren’t immersive to him. Consequently, English is one of his worst subjects in school, and he often has to rely on online notes and essay examples to help him out.

- Extending on that, I imagine him to be a kinaesthetic/visual learner. He was born with amazing dynamic vision after all. (Under ‘Fighting Style: Keen Perception.’)

- Loves American action movies, but they’ll have to be really well made for him to remember a specific one. If you asked him about his favorite action scenes, he’ll describe it, but more often than not, he won’t remember the movie’s name unless you gave him some clues.

- (Inspired by this fanfic.) His mother died in a monster attack just moments after giving birth to Zenko. Badd used to love and respect his father, but her death lead to him spiraling down to alcohol abuse and neglect due to his grief, leading to his broken pedestal status in his son’s eyes. Badd’s still bitter over it when he thinks about it, saying that his ‘old man nursed his bottle like it was his new kid’ instead of being there for him and Zenko. Caught between poor grades in school, a rough home life, and a baby sister he didn’t know how to take care of, Badd had to convince himself that he needed to be twice the man his father is, and ever was, to get through the worst of what life had to throw at him.

- No matter how hard he tries, he still loves his father, and wants to see him endeavor to become better again. But the combined grief of seeing him crumble and give up on himself, the bitterness over his dad failing to be there for him when he needed it the most, and the anger over how seemingly self-absorbed he was in with his booze and watching the static on the TV when Badd was struggling to cope, makes him force the thought of reconciling out of his mind. Badd forces himself to be outwardly angry over what happened to avoid the conflicted feelings he has over the man he used to see as his hero.

- That being said, if you know what his father used to mean to him, you’ll see subtle signs that while Badd can’t forgive, he had never forgotten him. His father was a big sports fan too, and taught him how to properly hit a baseball. If you knew what he taught and looked closely when Badd fights or does some swings, you’ll see that the tips and tricks that he taught his son has never left him.

- Wanted to get a dog because he thought they were cool, but realized he wouldn’t have enough time for it. Begrudgingly got a cat for him and Zenko after she picked one out. He expected it to be the widespread stereotype for cats: cold, mean, and ruins your stuff… and then he saw how lovable and sweet it was and fell in love. That cat is Tama.

- Hates horror films because some of them remind him of the fact that monsters can manifest for the stupidest reasons, anywhere, anytime. It gets him worked up and restless because anything can happen, and the fact that some monsters in the past had tried to target Zenko to lure him out doesn’t make him feel any better.

- When he’s sick/injured, he sleeps. A lot. A very heavy sleeper; expect snores and heavy eyelids. Seriously, this guy is practically stuck in either Stage 4 NREM or REM sleep until severe injuries heal quite a bit, and germs making him sick are killed off.

- Does not take kindly to anyone calling him weak or stupid. Despite getting angry easily, he’s very resilient (emotionally and mentally.) He knows from experience that if he can’t resolve it quickly, it’s best to put it on the backburner until the opportunity arrives where he can, and does his best to blow off steam in the meantime. He’s not that smart academically and he knows it, but it’s still a berserk button you should stay away from because while he’ll never admit it, it hurts him to know that despite forcing himself to attend school so that he can build a future for himself and Zenko outside of hero work, he’s still failing at getting the grades he needs.

- Expanding on that, he’s smart, but it’s more akin to Saitama’s words of wisdom than eloquent, polished reasoning and beliefs; straightforward and inspiring in a simple way that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

- Don’t let him play video games. Especially rage inducing ones like Cuphead. He will crush the controller and wonder why his character isn’t responding mid-game. The keys on the keyboard are smashed in. There are cracks on the area around the buttons. There’s a Wii remote sticking out of a wall after a frustrating defeat and the wrist strap wasn’t securely fastened.

Garou

- He likes athletic wear better than punk styles. They’re easier to put on and move in, whilst the leather from some punk clothes heats up too much/gets too stiff for his liking.

- Hates being restrained. Sometimes, on a very, very rare occasion, it can be interpreted as him being scared of the idea since he lashes out pretty angrily at it. Garou had been held down and beaten up by bullies twice, pinned against a tree and choked by Genos before escaping his blast by the skin of his teeth, and then was implied to be chained up and tortured/punished for his insolence against the MA in their torture room. He’s strong enough to escape most bindings, but he will be on edge if he feels like he can’t get out of them. If you play your cards right, his attack patterns will lack their usual cunning and be more animalistic.

- He’ll eat almost any kind of food except for sweets. It’s too sugary for him, leads to a crash later on, isn’t sustainable, and it doesn’t offer much nutritional value to him either, so he steers clear of them if he can help it. The odd exception are energy drinks. The sugary taste isn’t something he exactly likes, but Garou loves the immediate rush that kicks in soon after drinking them; the slight burn on his tongue from carbonated drinks such as coca cola is a plus.

- Loves the thrill of the challenge of almost any sort. The excitement comes from giving it his all and not knowing for sure how things will turn out; if he won, that’s another trophy to him. If he lost, he relishes in a milestone he has to beat and loves the idea that there’s still room for improvement. Winning or losing too much tends to be boring for him, and he’ll abandon it if he sees no way to rectify it.

- When he’s sick or injured, he’s a restless sleeper; it’s hard for him to get the proper hours that he needs. He drifts in and out of sleeping and waking, usually sleeping a few hours at best before waking up for 10 minutes and falling back to sleep. Being attacked while vulnerable, in places with little means of defense or shelter is a pretty good plan for monsters/bigshots who want his head and he knows it. One of the places he can sleep more peacefully at is Bang’s Dojo, but he hasn’t been back there for some time now.

- Tsundere. Not necessarily the blushy ‘I-it’s not like I like you, b-baka!!’ sort of way, but he’s a more subdued tsundere. He’ll come off as mean spirited at times, but the most reliable way of knowing he loves and cares about his loved ones is when they’re being threatened; he’ll rough up the threat so they won’t get any funny ideas in the future.

- Is Russian-French, with some (suspected) Norwegian in there. Is generally a European mutt who takes a keen interest in Asian culture, especially those that developed sick martial arts and/or those who have interesting, complex histories; however, Garou isn’t as interested in wars and political intrigue as he is in weird, clever, and hilarious events and hijinks that sound too surreal to be true… like Zhao Yun's army being outnumbered by the enemy, retreating, and him choosing to make their fortress look empty so that his enemies get suspicious, thinking that it was an ambush and withdrawing... before launching an attack on them, killing off his enemy's army by inciting chaos. (E.g. Some of them got trampled, others fell into a river and drowned.) He won.

- Continuing off of that, he generally regards European history with distaste due to how... unkind, some of them are.

- (God, I love @the-goddessfighter‘s headcanons for Garou’s parents, so honestly? I’m all for this being 100% canon. Murata or ONE, make it happen. In my eyes, this is as good as you possibly can get with Garou’s backstory.)

Check out her tumblr for her OC’s for Garou’s parents! (Although I do headcanon Toru as a more neglectful father who didn’t care much for Garou, if at all. He didn’t sugarcoat his words to him nor try to comfort his son.)

- Prefers black/white/grey/neutral colors for his clothes, if only to avoid people saying that the colors clash and that he looks like a fashion disaster.

- It’s an unconscious move on his part, and while he usually has impeccable control over his power, sometimes his fingers feel like they’re jabbing you when he’s distracted. Especially when he grabs or hugs you. Sometimes, there are some small bruises where they’ve dug in a little forcefully. When he’s feeling affectionate or sentimental and you’re his lover, he traces over your skin, and it’s a contrasting mix between the calloused, rough textures from the fingers, and smooth, fluid movements that slide like water. It’s a distinct Garou feature, and whether you love it or hate it depends on your tastes.

Genos/Demon Cyborg

- Doesn’t care too much about his popularity, but acknowledges the work that his fans put in when it comes to promoting his work and what little information he shares that others will pick up on. E.g. He doesn’t like to be bothered when he’s busy/with that bald guy, but otherwise is OK with signing a few autographs and shaking hands, he avoids certain obnoxious fangirls, he hates it when there’s a group and they crowd him, etc.

- Despite appreciating this info circulating so that some fans are more mindful about how they interact with him, he’s one of the hardest heroes to connect with due to how cold, closed off, busy, and/or socially awkward he may be. Not that many of his fans mind, as it feeds into the mysterious ‘Cyborg Prince’ fantasy that’s popular in his fan base.

- Thinks that Nice Guys/GirlsTM and people who use ‘I’m an Alpha, those betas/omegas can suck it’ are pathetic. At best. He thinks that they’re compensating for something instead of actually trying to improve themselves: for the latter, the added weight of using a disproved scientific theory makes him lose respect for them even more.

- He has a certain amount of fondness for fauna and flora. Prior to meeting Saitama, he’s had to travel long distances in search of the Mad Cyborg, and more often than not, company is fleeting, leaving him alone most of the time. Flowers by the side of the path, blue skies, the sound of chirping birds, or even some berries with rainwater droplets on them are familiar, nice sights that put him at ease. Some of his notebooks outside of taking notes on Saitama have hand drawn illustrations and notes on some plants he’s encountered, as well as their various uses.

- Conversely, barren cities will put him on high alert. Buildings act as great hiding spots, and Genos isn’t a stranger to being ambushed by monsters and criminals alike. (His eyes can be a great asset in these situations; scanning for threats and movements can give him a heads up on how dangerous the area is.)

- His sense of humor is pretty dark, if not outright sadistic at times; especially towards the people he hates. Otherwise, he likes making (mostly. Key word is mostly) harmless jabs and teases at those he loves because he finds it funny when the other person gets riled up/flustered. His tone and expressions don’t change (most of the time) when he makes them though, making it hard for others to know whether or not he’s joking until he clarifies on the matter.

- Hates those who spread misinformation about medicine, or demonizes scientists. He cares about keeping the public safe, and admires/respects science for everything it’s discovered for the sake of humanity: people such as those are a direct attack on both.

- Though on the outside he takes even the most inconsequential things seriously, to the point where he’s gullible and too honest to lie, he keeps his more solemn thoughts to himself and ingrains them at the back of his mind so that he’ll never forget them. His notebooks don’t hint at them even existing. The only way you’ll ever get to hear them is when you directly attack something he holds very dear to him (beliefs, values, aspirations) so that he may fiercely (and furiously) defend them. He berated Saitama for seemingly making a joke at his expense, but he was somewhat more lenient since he knew that Saitama wielded the power he needed. He won’t be nearly as nice if you’re not someone he likes or respects, so it’s a sure-fire way to get onto his blacklist.

- Is German-Japanese. German father, Japanese mother, though a lot of people mistake him for being fully German thanks to his looks. He understands some parts of the language, but isn’t fluent in speaking it. Japanese he’s fully fluent in, and English is getting to that point as well.

- He doesn’t usually use pet names if he gets a lover, but if he’s fallen in love hard, they get sort of ridiculous and a little cheesy. ‘My beloved’ and ‘darling’ are the most modest ones, but you’ll have to stop him from going after extremely specific and loving nicknames because they blur the line between being hilarious and embarrassing.

- Awesome at stake outs, and often keeps a first aid kit handy in his temporary bases (in the case of civilian injury) alongside a repair kit for himself. Genos is incredibly well prepared just from the equipment he has inside them, but unlike other matters (such as learning how to fold clothes efficiently and going taking it far too seriously), Genos shows pretty good judgment in how he sets them up. He doesn’t take more than what’s needed, and prepares some emergency supplies just in case there’s a new development and he needs to stay a bit longer. He’s learned from experience that taking too many things for them makes it harder for him to clear his tracks, and in return, the enemy (or enemies) that he’s been keeping an eye on might catch onto the fact that they’re being watched, making it harder for him to discover new information.

Shared Traits & Other Bits

- The no-brainer: you will get intimidated into fleeing if you mess with them. Things may get physical if you target their family/loved ones. Injuries vary depending on level of apologetic attitude, how much of a threat you pose, how far you’ve pushed things, etc. Best case scenario is that you flee the scene with no injuries, but scared out of your mind.

- Badd and Genos use the same nickname for their lover: ‘Darling.’ Although Badd will say it as ‘Darlin’’ instead. Other than that, their nicknames are fairly different, with Badd going for things such as ‘sweet cheeks,’ ‘babe,’ and ‘sweetheart.’

- Both Genos and Garou have the tendency to mess with people for their own amusement. Garou comes in the form of taunting and goading, whilst Genos likes to make underhanded comments and jokes that will infuriate you.

- Genos and Garou like books. Genos however, is more introverted and will share his knowledge more thoroughly when prompted by someone who needs it. Garou being Garou, you wouldn’t even know he was into reading until he offhandedly mentions a bit of knowledge from a book he read. Odds are you won’t have time to ask him if he knows how to do x because he would have already gotten up to do it before you can open your mouth. This occurrence is far more common in emergencies.

- Genos doesn’t take any visible joy in fighting. He sees monsters as a threat to society that must be eliminated quickly and effectively. Badd used to enjoy throwing himself into battles and coming out of them victorious, but thanks to time and HA’s obligations, he sees monsters as destructive assholes getting in his way and creating more work for him when he’d rather come home to catch up on other things on the forefront of his mind. Garou loves fighting, the challenge- but it has diminished by a notable amount after his webcomic arc as he’s reflecting on what he needs and wants to do now. Despite this, he usually keeps his eye out for any interesting challenges, if only to distract himself.

- Slightly digressing from the Trio: Zenko shares the burden of taking on responsibilities with Badd, though he doesn’t know they exist. She’s aware of the fact that her brother isn’t living a normal teenage life and is bothered by the fact that he can’t act like his own age most of the time, making her want to be headstrong, capable, and independent soon so he doesn’t have to worry about her. At the same time, she knows that there aren’t many heroes his age that he can get along with, so she tries to fill in that hole by spending time with him while finding heroes she likes, and hopefully her brother will like- the reason being is that hopefully, Badd will make friends with them, and she can meet her idol often! It’s part of the reason why she was so insistent in having him obtain AM’s signature.

- Genos can sing, but sometimes struggles with singing with enough emotion in his lyrics. Garou can sing pretty well, (and sings almost every Disney villain song like a champ) but he’d be resistant to others goading him into it. He’s pretty uncomfortable at the notion that he’d have to sing in front of people. Badd can… sing, but he’s best at singing the lullabies he sung to a baby Zenko- songs that get him into it can have him be really, really into it; to the point where it’s almost embarrassing to watch. He’s pretty good at rap/singing more sentimental pieces such as this:

youtube

#opm #genos #badd #metal bat #garou #shitty teen squad #hellion trio #zenko #headcanons

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islcreyes · 4 years ago

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[ cindy kimberly . twenty . cis female . she/her ] just saw ISLA REYES dragging their suitcase up the steps to CABIN 2B . good luck living with HER , i hear that that they’re UNORGANIZED , IMPULSIVE , EFFERVESCENT & AMICABLE . Apparently they’re the WINGER LEFT . let’s hope the upcoming season doesn’t affect their JUNIOR year of ART ADMINISTRATION [ marci, twenty-one, she/her, est ]

hi everyone ! i’m marci and i’m super excited to share isla with all of you. i didn’t have enough time to flesh out her character so excuse my limited detail of her. if you like what you see though, like this post or message me so we can plot together !

stats !

FULL NAME ― isla reyes NICKNAMES ― lala, reyes BIRTHDATE ― november 12th, 1999 AGE ― twenty years old ZODIAC ― scorpio GENDER ― cis female PRONOUNS ― she/her ORIENTATION ― closeted bisexual

background !

isla was born to mateo and amaia reyes on november 12th, 1999. her father is a mechanic at a family owned auto body shop, while her mother worked as a secretary in some law firm the last time they saw her. isla was only two years old when amaia reyes abandoned her family, leaving a crumpled note in her absence explaining why she left. isla’s father was absolutely heartbroken, more so for his young daughter than himself, devastated that isla would lack a maternal figure in her life.

because of this, mateo made a great effort to compensate for his wife’s neglect by dedicating as much time as he could towards isla. with the help of his buddies from the auto shop and their families, isla grew up feeling more love and care towards her than most children do. mateo’s tremendous dedication towards his daughter resulted in the pair growing to become the best of friends. to this day, isla loves and appreciates the relationship she shares with her dad knowing it took a great deal of love and sacrifice to raise her alone. she often admits to him being her first love and places him in the highest of pedestals.

it’s actually because of her dad that isla became such a great soccer player. following his buddies’ advice, mateo signed isla up for a local kids soccer league in order to give her a distraction. isla had a great affinity towards the sport and was a natural at it too. her father noticed this and quickly began to pour all of his energy into making sure isla had everything she needed to become the best player possible. their mutual goal was to get her noticed by recruiters so that she could receive a full ride to college, which they accomplished through hollis university.

extras !

-- isla got into drawing and art in general from spending days at her dad’s shop just doodling away. because he couldn’t afford a babysitter for her, isla often just tagged along with him at work and kept herself busy by drawing. she would often draw the cars that were in the shop and “pimp” them out, until she grew out of it and began to draw the people who were in the shop instead. aside from soccer, drawing is one of isla’s favorite hobbies and the reason she’s majoring in art administration. she often dreams about owning her own art gallery someday.

-- growing up isla was a bit of a tomboy due to her dad not really knowing what little girls liked. he would try his best to dress her up and do her hair, but eventually gave up when isla saw his struggle and asked him to stop. it wasn’t until she befriended a few girls in high school that isla learned to be a little more feminine. these girls proudly took her under their wing and taught her the ways of being a “girl”. she soon learned how to apply makeup properly and shop for clothes that accentuated her body instead of hiding it. this transformation garnered attention from boys who use to see her as nothing more than their friend and gave teenage isla a tremendous boost of confidence.

-- since being accepted to hollis, isla can at times forget that her position on the team isn’t permanent. although she isn’t a slacker and takes school seriously, isla is extremely unorganized and often makes impulsive decisions regarding her social life that affect her negatively on the field. all the pressure that’s put on the players to succeed this year frustrates isla and leads to her forgetting why she even participates in the sport. if it weren’t for her natural talent, isla would have been benched already; however, if she doesn’t get her shit together soon she’ll lose her starting position.

connections !

click here to find my wanted connections page. please don’t feel limited to these though, we can come up with anything together !

#hollis.intro #hi hi hi hi hi !!#if u wanna plot hmu ;)

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midoriyaizukustan-inactive · 5 years ago

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MHA Song Analysis - “Holy” by PVRIS

so i was listening to this song and it gave me massive todoroki family vibes lmao

anyway!! i got encouragement from fran (thank u fran) so its time to go off

i will leave a read more for those of u who dont wanna see me yell tho uwu

this is the song: https://youtu.be/rfrFT_3GP4A

SO i will be using genius lyrics as a ref for the lyrics so if u would like to double-check me on anything, u can do so using the same source

also for this analysis, we are going with the theory that dabi is todoroki touya just for simplicity’s sake

ALSO there are some manga spoilers in here so be careful!! it’s nothing too major or anything but there are instances discussed here that have not yet happened in the anime, so just a warning

w that let’s begin hoho

“youve got it all” “you” in this context is endeavor (who will be referred to as “enji” for the rest of this) and the rest of the line is obvious then; he’s got it all in the sense that he’s a successful, rich pro hero; he has a wife and kids and his own agency; when/if he retires, he could do so comfortably; he has a world-renowned, powerful quirk; he’s got looks and fans and everything

“but youve got it all wrong” despite everything enji has, he doesn’t treat it right at all. obviously he’s abusive as fuck towards his family, and negligent to natsuo and fuyumi once shouto comes along. he’s not satisfied with his place because he doesn’t get to have the number one next to his name. nothing is enough for him; his fatal flaw is envy, and it consumes him to an absolutely absurd degree

“now you dont know you’re a poor unfortunate soul” as previously mentioned, enji’s fatal flaw is envy. it fucks with him so severely that he can’t be happy with what he has, and instead stews in hate towards all might and the bitterness of “what-ifs”. thus, he’s a “poor unfortunate soul”

“oh i know/you make it seem that you feel whole/so they don’t know you’re a poor unfortunate soul” so even though enji is clearly a bit unstable and will never be satisfied or happy with what he has, he has to hide that fact; we see this particularly with his interactions with all might. he is venomous towards him, yes, but he will never let all might know that he’s jealous of him. we see this pattern of behavior echoed in shouto in the sports festival and dabi

“you put on a faith facade/think you’re holy when you’re not” the “faith facade” is enji pretending to feel accomplished with what he’s done, when he clearly isn’t. the “think youre holy when you’re not” refers to enji’s tendency to not see or not admit when he’s wrong. at least until his fight with the nomu leading to introspection, enji did not see any error in his ways. he was fine with using a woman solely for the children she could potentially bear, he was fine with neglecting the children that weren’t “good enough” in his eyes (natsuo and fuyumi), and he was perfectly fine with overworking the children that did meet his standards (shouto and dabi), which supposedly led to one’s death (touya/dabi)

“i hate to break it to you, baby/but you’re simply lost” could be seen as words dabi is telling enji during the nomu fight. shouto, fuyumi, and natsuo have no doubt thought this as well, though, and shouto and natsuo have said things that are equivalent to this (shouto when he told enji he would use him as a stepping stone to be a good hero and natsuo’s recent blowing up about touya’s “death” and enji’s parenting)

“you can right all the wrongs just to feel you belong” these are words natsuo definitely said to enji during their most recent interactions. shouto and dabi echo this sentiment, though, with how they interact with enji. its a very sarcastic and bitter line about not being able to just let what enji has done slip by

“but simply calling out sins don’t bring you closer to god” “calling out sins” is enji’s abuse towards his children and otherwise living through them, particularly shouto, and “bring you closer to god” in this context would mean enji reaching his goals. this is a sentiment all the todorokis feel, but particularly shouto, as enji honed in on him for years and shouto had no way of getting away from him until ua

“youre just a ghost at most/a set of empty bones” i feel as if this is a sentiment all the todorokis feel currently: enji because he’s finally realizing all he’s done wrong and doesn’t quite know how to cope with that; shouto because he’s trying to see himself as anything other than enji’s tool; natsuo because he wants to be more than the abuse enji inflicted on him, but it’s hard bc he can’t let go of touya’s “death”; dabi because he’s completely warped as a person from who he used to be and can’t reach out to his mom or siblings; fuyumi because she most likely has doubts about her feelings/lack of anger towards enji, even though her brothers are all angry with him in some form or fashion; and even rei, because she was changed as a person from enji’s abuse and hurt her own child because of it, and she must deal with the guilt of that

“searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole” this is a reference to how the todoroki’s are trying to cope with what is making them feel like a ghost. enji is reaching out to his kids, shouto is connecting with his friends and midoriya, natsuo is honest about his feelings to enji himself, dabi has a new family/group he connects with, fuyumi stands her ground bc her feelings are her own and shouldnt be swayed by what others are thinking, and rei is in a much better headspace now that she’s away from enji

“when it gets cold, oh, oh, oh” “when it gets cold” means when their struggles get particularly hard. examples of this: enji during the nomu fight, shouto during the sports festival, natsuo during the attack in recent manga chapters and the following conversation with enji, when dabi “dies”/runs away, and when rei hurt shouto. i cant think of a specific example for fuyumi right now, but you get the idea

“you dont know/no you dont know/oh you’re all alone/you poor unfortunate soul” i feel this line relates solely to enji and halfway with dabi, as shouto, natsuo, fuyumi, and rei all have each other and others that help them with being “unfortunate souls”. enji and dabi, on the other hand, only have themselves -- enji because he’s too prideful and also has no one left in his corner after his years of abuse, and dabi because he hasn’t told the league his past (yet), thus he certainly hasn’t talked about this at all

“you can’t control/where your body lets you go/oh you’re all alone/you poor unfortunate soul” i think this line, in particular, is dabi’s, as depending on which “dabi is touya” theory you’re looking at, he was kidnapped by ujiko to be made into a nomu that kinda failed/kinda succeeded, therefore he literally had no control where his body let him go. however, dabi in general didn’t have much choice, or probably felt he didn’t; he couldn’t stand to be with enji any longer, and it quite literally would have killed him if his scars are anything to go by. so he left, and ended up on the path of villainy. he didn’t choose that necessarily, it was just how the cards were played

“and you say that i’ve got it all wrong” “you” is enji and “i[’ve]” is shouto. this is before and during the sports festival. enji is still at his worst, shouto is trying to spite him/separate himself from him, and enji hates shouto for that, thus, he says shouto has it all wrong to not use his quirk/be obedient

“cause you just know im a poor unfortunate soul” enji knows and is the cause of shouto’s fucked up upbringing, so this line is kind’ve a bitter acknowledgment of that

“but there’s no way that there’s weight in the words that you preach/when you’re claiming your faith and you contradict your speech” shouto’s pov one again; he can’t take enji seriously in addition to not wanting to be like him because of enji’s obvious issues with envy. enji tells him to be proud of his fire, and yet clearly enji isn’t even satisfied with it as he can’t beat all might with flames alone. thus, shouto has resentment towards the irony of this, which this line attests to

“so i sit here and listen to your tongue and cheek/i know that when you sit and pray you’re only praying for keeps” shouto has no choice but to listen to enji’s hypocrisy, at least until the dorm system at ua is put into place the “praying” in this aspect can mean a couple different things; enji’s talks to the public, talks to shouto, or talks to all might. “praying for keeps” in these contexts, then, are: “just want to keep his hero ranking high”, “wants to live through shouto’s success because he’s unhappy with his own life”, and “wants to one-up all might in anything possible, from demeanor to supposed satisfaction to pride to legacy, etc”

chorus (“cause you’re a ghost...[...]unfortunate soul” bit) once more

“you’re shallow and empty and filled with regret” arguably all the todorokis feel this way. they all have things they regret at this point and all feel the emptiness that comes when there is a void in what is supposed to be a family. enji in particular has been shallow for a long time and still has issues with that.

“i think that chest must be heavy from that cross on your neck” the “cross” in this context is the weight that the todorokis each feel about what expectations they think they have to live up to/what worries them. obviously all the todoroki kids had/have the pressure to live up to enji’s expectations, but to get more precise: shouto and natsuo have the need to be more than “endeavor’s kids” on their chests, and shouto additionally has the pressures that come with being a hero course student; fuyumi has the dilemma of if she’s being too forgiving or not (and how that affects her loved ones) on her chest; dabi has the knowledge that he left behind his siblings and mother on his chest; enji has regret and dissatisfaction with his whole life on his chest; rei has the regret of what she did to her kids and the horrors of living with enji on her chest.

“you only wear cause you’re wary of what comes next after your death” why the todorokis hold on to their aforementioned “crosses”? they hold on bc its important to them that they carry reminders of who/what they want to be, or because they regret or are unsure of certain decisions, or because of nostalgia and a desire that things were different

“dont think i didn’t notice” this can be an outside perspective, but particularly im thinking midoriya because he’s met almost all of the todorokis now and has seen them at lows. very low lows in fact. thus,,,it can’t escape notice however it can also be the todorokis acknowledge the trauma and guilt that each other has; “takes one to know one” sort of thing

“dont think i didn’t notice/dont think i didn’t know/you’re just a po-o-o-or, poor unfortunate/so-o-o-oul, poor unfortunate/oh, oh, oh, oh poor unfortunate/so-o-o-oul, poor unfortunate” this line is kind’ve incoherent which is why i think it fits all of the todoroki’s thoughts; this is all of them thinking over each other about themselves and about the rest of their family

“and you’ve got it all/you’ve got it all wrong/no you’ve never known, known, known, known/you’re a poor unfortunate soul” once again, this is the todoroki’s thoughts overlapping each other, except these thoughts are exclusively about each other and not themselves

“dont think i didnt notice” definitely this is where the outside party comes in, at least for everyone but enji and dabi, as they have others that are there for them and they can talk to. as for enji and dabi, this line is still them thinking about the others

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royalpains-roleplay · 4 years ago

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Initiate Program Females - Unavailable

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Character quote: ❝Turned her tears to diamonds in her crown.❞

✗ — Name: Ivy Caballero. ✗ — Age: 21. ✗ — Kingdom: Spain. ✗ — Sexuality: Heterosexual.

— Personality; Ivy was never known to be the sweet child, and it was probably because of the neglecting nature of her parents. She was just about left alone to look after herself and ended up being responsible for her own raising. She didn’t have the same compassionate nature as her sister, but had a devious and manipulate side, one that was even notable as a child. She may not have been as bad with Kyle, but she still had a dark side, one that led her to be incredibly dishonest, disloyal and hateful. Ivy is very cocky, narcissistic, bitchy and also incredibly quick witted and sarcastic. She can be somewhat superficial, but does have a few things that run deeper than her exterior.

— Biography; Ivy and Cora were never equals. Not in the eyes of her parents, of the Kingdom’s, even of the other royals. She was never considered, never put in the spotlight. She was always on the back burner, nobody had faith in the fact she might make a good Queen. She was neglected, yelled at, constantly told she would never accomplish anything by her parents. Magazines frequented bad press about her to make her sister look good. Compared her sister, she wasn’t as outgoing, had a devious and manipulative side even as a child. Her parents already were sure they had their golden child, and so the attention always fell on Cora. It left Ivy to her own devices, forced to raise herself. At some point, something good happened, and she met Kyle. She ended up with him. He believed her to be better, for once she’d been chosen. But his faith that she could be great only made her hide her more devious side and try to cover who she was. The only real thing that brought out her kinder side was Eliza, her childhood friend who’d grown up in the Spanish castle with Ivy. She was the only one who treated Cora and Ivy equally, sometimes Ivy even a bit better. Even though she cared for Kyle, she still ended up betraying their relationship. The pressure of being who he thought she was became too much for her. And she cheated on him. With his brother Dylan. And she ended up becoming pregnant from it. Of course, she pretended it was Kyle’s, though a short few months in, she lost the baby. This dried up her last bit of soft side. While she still was fond of Eliza, no one else, she even broke up with Kyle. It was always the quick witted, cocky, bitchy remarks from her. She broke off everything with Kyle’s as brother as well. When her sister grew ill, and it became apparent she may become Queen, she was sent to Royal Pains to learn some grace and manners she just wasn’t taught because of her parent’s favoritism.

✗ Secret; Ivy was never pregnant with Kyle's kid, but with his brother.

「 Faceclaim: Nina Dobrev. 」

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Character quote: ❝Do you ever wonder what your life looks like through someone else’s eyes?❞

✗ — Name: Lena Marek. ✗ — Age: 19. ✗ — Kingdom: Poland. ✗ — Sexuality: Heterosexual.

— Personality; Most of the time Lena is a lovely person and wouldn’t harm a fly. She can be shy at times, but tries her hardest to break out of her comfort zone to make people feel welcomed. A certain air of elegance follows Lena around, and she tries to break away from it when she’s around others her ages. Sometimes she just wants to be a normal teenage and have fun but she’s always worried to disappoint those around her and knows that her parents would never approve of her having any form of fun if it didn’t fit into their idea of ‘the perfect daughter.’ Lena is capable of so much but often limits herself because she’s too afraid of judgement. During her blackouts, Lena is often known to act the complete opposite of how she usually is and can sometimes turn rather violent if she feels threatened. However, once she’s aware of her surroundings, she forgets about what she’s done and it angers her because she knows that she has done something.

— Biography; The pressure was almost always on Lena from her parents. They wanted her to be the picture of perfection. The power had been in their family’s hands through nearly every year that the monarchy had been established, and they had every intention of keeping the power within their family. However, there was a problem. A daughter of the Slyvinsky family, around the same age as Lena threatened their power. She had all the charm and love from the people. Whereas for Lena, no matter how hard she tried, how much effort she put into being perfect, things never seemed to come quite so easily to her. Her mother and father were always quick to judge Lena over any little mistake she ever made, and it was almost torturous. It was in her teens when Lena began to experience strange happenings. Chucks of her memory would go missing and she couldn’t understand why or what was happening. She was more then aware that she was doing something, various people had seen her in the time space she couldn’t remember. At first she thought it was just a one-time thing, but when it continued to happen Lena started to become concerned, especially when she was told she had been doing things very out of character. Lena had no choice but to tell her parents and once they were informed, they didn’t hesitate to send her away to get some help. They didn’t want to tarnish their perfect reputation. When Lena returned months later, her parents were hoisting the Laiton family. They were the current ruling royals and had decided to visit Poland since her mother got on well with the American queen. However, her parents were very judgemental when it came to the Laiton’s adopted son. He wasn’t as regal as they had hoped and forbid Lena from talking to him unless it was absolutely necessary. Not wanting to anger her parents, she did her best to keep away from Caine but it was hard when all he did was peak her interest. Just when Lena thought her black outs were a thing of the past, she started to realise that something was seriously wrong with her when a few months ago when two men attempted to rob her. One of her blackouts began to happen when two men attempted to rob her while she walked through town. However, before she could seriously harm one of them, Caine Laiton came to her aid. He managed to scare the men off and soothed Lena until she came back round. From that moment on Lena only trusted Caine and after he went back to America with his parents, she would often phone him after one of her blackouts and he would calm her down. She was doing well to keep her blackouts a secret from her parents but one night at dinner she had one and with no control of her own, she hit one of the guards serving them their food. Her father was furious and immediately packed her bags, telling Lena that she was to stay at royal pains until she could manage her blackouts but she’s not sure that can be done.

✗ Secret; Lena has temporary blackouts which affects her recollection of her time and memory, while she is aware she is doing things during these blackouts she doesn’t know what.

「 Faceclaim: Lili Reinhart 」

— Admin L.

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Character quote: ❝I’m tired of being careful, gentle, trying to keep the water warm, let me under your skin.❞

✗ — Name: Ariella Vierira. ✗ — Age: 21. ✗ — Kingdom: Brazil. ✗ — Sexuality: Bisexual.

— Personality; Ariella is exactly what you’d expect royalty to be. She’s the picture of elegance, grace and poise, knowing exactly what manners to use. She’s confident, outgoing, charming and has a natural sort of way that draws people in. For the longest time, she was also cold, manipulative, and even cruel. She would use her power to do horrible things, to party and bully others. She thought it was simply the way most royals were and remained mostly influenced by that. She got a wake-up call when her life changed. Her father’s death and her mother’s marriage to a commoner ended up being what drove her to change. She became humbler, down to earth and less spoiled. She often will try to still freeze out some emotions out of fear for the unknown feelings, but she’s more compassionate, friendly and open now. She’s done her best to become someone trustworthy.

— Biography; Ariella was the eldest daughter of the royalty in Brazil. They were one of the few families who’d married the other royal family of the country, so both had rights to the throne in Brazil. They were something of a power couple in Brazil. When Ariella was born, she was spoiled rotten by her father, and she never really knew well enough to second guess either of their behaviors or what they did. She always assumed they were good people, and the constant things she was showered with was enough to make her not see past it. She grew up to be completely entitled. She was a terror in school, to her little sister and the only person she ever truly would bow down to was her father. When she was sixteen, her father’s illegal dealings was exposed. He’d been funding multiple drug operations in Brazil, and had links to a nasty ring of criminals. There were all sorts of charges racked up. No amount of his money could get him out, and Ariella was left in complete confusion of what her life had been. She’d always assumed it was one thing when it turned out to be a complete other. She tried to stay loyal to her father, to be faithful to the family name. But more accusations painting him as a monster came forward, and she finally realized they were true. Only a few months later her father was murdered in prison, and while she had no blinders on to who he was, she cared about him still and mourned his death. It changed her, affected her in more ways than she was ready to admit. It wasn’t until her mother married the commoner that she decided to really make a change in her life. She started to work on becoming a better person, inspired by both her new step-father and by her growing attraction to her step-brother Quinn. She knew it was wrong, but seeing how good and moral he was, she too wanted to be like that. She wanted to be at least worthy of his love, even if she could never happened. She worked on turning her life around. It was hard, but she did her best. Shifting from the selfish, bullying, party girl to something kinder, better. It became too hard to resist Quinn, and they shared a night together. But after that he was distant, as if he was once more trying to separate from her. And then she found out he was going to Royal Pains. She tried to stay away, knowing it was better for them both. But only a few months after he left, she went to a party, purposely completely overdoing it so her mother had no choice but to send her away.

✗ Secret; Ariella has developed feelings for her step-brother Quinn.

「 Faceclaim: Camila Mendes. 」

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Character quote: ❝You're dripping like a saturated sunrise, you're spilling like an overflowing sink.❞

✗ — Name: Camila Delucia. ✗ — Age: 21. ✗ — Kingdom: Italy. ✗ — Sexuality: Heterosexual.

— Personality; Camila is very attuned with her emotional side. Unlike most people, she does her best to face her feelings, accept them at face value and try to understand and deal with them. Even though some feelings, like the question as to if she wanted to kill herself or not, triggers quite a bit of inner suffering. Sometimes she’s prone to suffer from random breakdowns, or even sudden random bouts of happiness or anger. She has a bad habit of overreacting and thinking the worse of a situation. It takes a lot to bring out her angry side, as she is simply a passive being. She believes in piece and gentle nature, of loving everyone for what they are and giving everything she can to be friendly and kind to all. Out of all things, Camila is one of the few people that could be trusted with someone’s life. She is known to be very trustworthy and keeps the secrets she’s asked to, respecting people’s privacy and personal lives.

— Biography; Camila's father had always been hard on her. He never really gave her a break even when she was little. She was always a decent student, but she never did extremely well or got top grades possible. This was what her father wanted from her, but the more he pushed, the less capable she became of giving him this. So this just meant he got harder he got on her, and it only diminished her confidence, which in turn made her drop far below average in academic ability and sports ability. Her mother, however, was the biggest influence and support in her life. Her mother was beautiful and gentle and kind. If Camila was ever upset or stressed, her mother would be the comfort in her life, her support and she was the only person in the world who made Camila feel as though she wasn't a complete failure. So, when Camila realised her mother had cancer, it devastated her. Her mother became very sick, very quick but rather than leaving her to deal with it alone, Camila refused to leave her mothers side. She slept in the same bed as her to make sure she was still there and when she died, Camila was the one there to hold her hand. It completely broke her heart witnessing her mothers death, but she refused to let her mother leave the world believing she as alone. Her father was to heart broken to witness the woman he loved grow weaker, but when she died, the King had no choice but to re marry so he could keep Italy together and his people satisfied. Camila's new step mother was cruel and blunt, so she didn't care about the girl's sadness over the death of her mother, she simply saw Camila’s mother as competition for the King’s affections, who clearly grieved for his wife. Between the harshness of her father, which had seemingly increased over the months since the death of Cam’s mother and the terrible nature of her step mother, Camila soon came to develop an eating disorder known as bulimia, one she hid well from others. She didn't want to be a problem to anyone, so she kept all of her negative feelings inside though she felt absolutely broken. One night, a few months after her mother's death Camila had a terrible head ache and took Advil to cure it. It was later revealed that she had taken far too much because she woke up in a hospital bed after her overdose. Her step mother was convinced that she tried to kill herself, and when the doctors confirmed that she was also struggling with bulimia, it only made it more believable to her father. Camila couldn't convince anyone that the overdose was an accident, so her father took away her rights to the throne and sent her to the Royal Pains house.

✗ Secret; She isn't sure if she took too many advil on purpose or on accident so she doesn't talk about it, despite the impending feeling's she kept inside about her dead mother.

「 Faceclaim: Selena Gomez. 」

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Character quote: ❝I will go to war in a red dress, trample your ashes in high heels, look for my lipstick stain on your collar when I lean forwards not to kiss you, but to whisper ‘I win’. ❞

✗ — Name: Calliope Arrilynn. ✗ — Age: 19. ✗ — Kingdom: Germany. ✗ — Sexuality: Bisexual.

— Personality; Calliope is damaged to say the least. After the woman who she’d been raised to think was her mother had tried to bring about her death twice, she’d learned to ice out most of her emotions and feelings towards other people to prevent anyone else from hurting her. The only true times she was ever known to show emotions was when she was really overwhelmed or when her parents were involved in a situation, as they were known to intimidate and scare her. Calliope always maintains a rather kept exterior, not a hair out of place. Even though she keeps this maintained way about her, often inside that’s where the real damage. Even if both emotionally and physically she seems stable she often relives the traumas of her life. She has deep seated trust issues that can only be born of a life of lies. Even with the icy walls put up she has rooted insecurities about not being good enough, which she hides by appearing to be shallow, vain and conceited. Calliope has a mischievous wild-side though and likes to get into trouble, something that’s grown stronger since she’s discovered she’s royalty. She doesn’t shy away from a good party, and is no stranger to charm, seduction and sex. Rarely, she’ll show her compassionate and kind side, but this is reserved to very few others. Mostly it takes a long time to crack into her rough exterior. Calliope can be controlling and neurotic, liking things planned to the very last detail. She’s manipulative, harsh, cold and cruel on many circumstances, and doesn’t shy away from being unkind to people. She’s very witty as well.

— Biography; Calliope had a complicated childhood. She was born in a hospital in Switzerland, one that was intended to specialize in particularly difficult births of wealthy families. Two families were there that day. One being a wealthy, but peasant born family, the Laity’s, and one being a family of royalty, one of the two main ruling families of Germany, the Arrilynn’s. They were due at the same time, in that same hospital. And while only one death happened, tragedy struck both families that day. Both the mother and child of the wealthy family were in critical condition so they had to operate immediately. The child, a daughter was on the very cusp of death. The royal family’s child was born in rough shape too, but not quite so bad. Both were moved to be held in intensive care however. The father of the small Laity child stayed in the hospital while the mother went back to America to try and get things ready for the baby’s transfer to the hospital there. It was there he witnessed the last few moments of his daughters life. He barely knew what he was doing, but he ended up switching the girl’s bracelets and tags on the incubators, as if the infant that had died was belonging to the Arrilynn’s. In a hurry, with tired overworked nurses, it worked. And sure enough, he took home the princess Calliope to his wife, and while the Arrilynn’s were crushed, the mother didn’t quite believe that the one who died was hers, not entirely. It was only when the autopsy came back and the blood type was wrong that they realized that somehow their daughter had been switched. Due to scrambles of files and the confusion of the nurses, nobody could find where their daughter could go. Calliope’s kidnapper, the man she called father, didn’t inform the woman played the role of her mother about what had happened and led her to believe Calliope was hers. And so she was raised by them. Things were okay for the first few years. Her mother always seemed to be distant, always having “headaches.” It was almost like she was avoiding Calliope. Her dad spoiled her though, taking as much care of her as he could in every way he could. Her mother became more abrasive and finally when Calliope eleven, her mother broke. She tried to kill her, stabbing her in the stomach, claiming that Calliope wasn’t hers. Calliope survived but not without a painful scarring that ran deeper than physically. Her mother was institutionalized and she was raised mostly by her father who took care of her. But he couldn’t undo the damage done. She had already begun hardening herself to the world. She made the conversion to a Queen Bee, school dominating type who partied and had fun, but also managed to seem like the perfect girl. When she was twenty, she was getting home late from a party only to find her father knocked out and her mother sitting in the living room. Once more, her life was attempted on and once more she barely made it out. The only miracle was that her mother fell after stabbing her and hit her head. During her surgery, they ran into problems because of her massive blood loss and discovered she couldn’t possibly be a child of the Laity’s after trying to type her father to donate. They found her DNA match while she was unconscious and recovering, only to find out that she was actually the Princess of Germany. When she woke up a week later after the event, she was in a hospital in Germany. The situation was explained to her by a police officer. She didn’t believe it, she couldn’t. But the DNA didn’t lie. Finally, she was forced to return to the house of the Arrilynn’s. She became Calliope Arrilynn, and she didn’t handle the transition well. Her mother, her real mother was even worse than her original mother, at least she’d had a cause. The woman was cold and harsh and had ridiculous expectations of Callie, constantly trying to sculpt her into what she believed the perfect royal to be. As for her father, he was creepy to say the least. Most times he almost reminded her of a man trying to woo a woman he was interested in. Callie rebelled but held onto her natural domineering attitude, while constantly trying to grapple for some control over her mother. That was when she found files explaining exactly why she’d ended up with the Arrilynn’s. It showed photos of her as early as sixteen, displaying that they did know she’d been out there the entire time. Upon more research and some manipulation, she found out the real reason for their bringing her back was because her mother could no longer get pregnant and they were desperate for an heir to the throne. They had no intention of making Callie this heir, but instead breeding Callie out to make one. She confronted her father first, as she figured he might break. That was when he made a move to bed her, telling her it was not unusual because he hadn’t raised her. She was disgusted, not having known the depths and lengths her parents had planned on going to with their breeding program they intended on. When a struggle ensued, Callie’s mother interrupted and had her briefly institutionalized in order to brainwash her. When she refused to give and broke out. Her mother thought the best place for her was the Royal Pains Estate.

✗ Secret; While the whole world knows of her being kidnapped, she often keeps the near murder attempts a secret as they are the root of a lot of her trauma. And even deeper than that, the true plans her birth parents had for her are something she buries deeper than anything, out of fear for what her mother will do.

「 Faceclaim: Madelaine Petsch. 」

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Character quote: ❝ So hold me fast, hold me fast, 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer. ❞

✗ — Name: Breanna Chadwick. ✗ — Age: 20. ✗ — Kingdom: Spain. ✗ — Sexuality: Heterosexual.

— Personality; Breanna has a very innocent based personality. She’s got a childlike innocence about her that allows her to see the world in a way that most others don’t get too. She is very adventurous and carefree, she likes to draw the best that she possibly can out of life, trying to make up from all that was taken from her. Breanna has a habit of coming off as blunt and sometimes even rude, although it’s only because she really doesn’t know the difference, simply because she was never taught otherwise. She has a high protective instinct and looks after the few friends she has. Breanna regrets the death of her family and wants to avenge them somehow. She gets very sensitive and secretive about her time in the woods and refrains to talk about it to those around her.

— Biography; Breanna was born to a very loving family, both of her parents were considered a good royal family and she was possibly going to be the up and coming queen. However, any hope of that was shattered when it became very apparent that the Caballero’s had a full intention of taking over the throne once again. Their daughter Cora was much loved by the public. In an attempt to strike out the competition, assassins in favour of Cora becoming queen killed Breanna’s parents when she was eight, leaving her stranded in the woods. She was forced to survive off the land for those years, leaving her somewhat underdeveloped. This didn’t entirely slow down her mental growth, however it did leave her somewhat behind in several things which really started to bother her as she grew older. When she was eighteen, she was finally found. The people of Spain thought she had died along with her parents, and her body had never been found, so when she was brought back to her kingdom it was a shock for everyone who loved the Caballero family. She was taught the ways of life by royal advisors who tried to treat her lack of upbringing in royal or even normal society, yet she remained blunt, somewhat innocent to the ways of the world and could sometimes be mistaken for rude for those who didn’t know her story because she didn't really know how to act around others any more. Ten years being completely alone really effected Breanna's way of life. It was astonishing to everyone who heard the story, that the girl had managed survived ten years in the woods, especially since she was just a little girl when it happened. She was retaught as much as she could be, encouraged to be a princess in the classic way but it didn’t seem to go as smoothly as everyone hoped. Breanna didn't feel like a princess; she was a free spirit and didn't want to do what everyone was telling her. Not long after, the people who spear-headed the tragedy in her life, better known as the plane crash, were arrested as the plot was revealed. No one had suspected the story to unfold the way it did. Breanna was supposed to have been the one to die that night, and her parents would live, and that was meant to erase all chance of another ruler taking over. The vice versa happened and Breanna was left to deal with the consequences. Though she couldn't hardly remember them, she felt guilt for her parents death and since it has been revealed they were supposed to live, she blames herself. Though she could still be in the running for the future ruler of Spain, she didn't have a very strong chance, with her lack of royal experience so, in order to strengthen her claim to the throne, she was put in a forced engagement and sent to Royal Pains.

✗ Secret; Because of the knowledge revealed to her regarding the plot of her parents, she believes she is the reason they were murdered and blames herself.

「 Faceclaim: Shelley Hennig. 」

» ; ♛ ❮CLOSED❯

Character quote: ❝Way down we go.❞

✗ — Name: Aerie Witta. ✗ — Age: 28. ✗ — Kingdom: England. ✗ — Sexuality: Bisexual.

— Personality; Aerie is unpredictable, reckless and free-spirited. She’s not the type to be controlled and backed into corners. Most of this has come from the fact her childhood itself was very tightly managed, and she had little to no freedom to do things. Aerie has a deep compassion for her siblings, but hates the parents who abandoned her. She has a temper that is a great deal like that of Christian’s, and often loses control on it, lashing out at the people around her. Though until one of her temper flares up close, it’s hard to even recognize in her because of how rational, reasonable and logical she is in making most decisions. She’s very independent, something she learned in a life where the only one who truly looked out for her was herself. She’s curious and relentless in that curiosity, always wanting to know everything about a situation. She is a very compassionate individual in many ways, but often hides the truth of this, so she doesn’t get hurt. Aerie still suffers nightmares and severe post-traumatic stress disorder from her childhood.

— Biography; Aerie was born into the royal Levinson family of England. At first, she was much loved by her two parents to a degree, as much as she could be loved. Though it was all too clear her mother was always the one who loved her more. Her life started to go right to Hell when she was four. Her family had gone to Ireland, to visit her father’s sister and Aerie’s Aunt. It had been a fun trip so far, she barely even noticed how her Aunt appeared to be stressed. During the evening, she had woken early from her bed and had sought out to find her father or mother. She hadn’t had much luck finding her mother, but sure enough she found her father. Only when she did, it was on top of her Aunt, assaulting her. She did not understand what it meant at the time, she didn’t know why her Aunt was crying or what her father was doing, but she never forgot, as this one event changed her entire life. At first it seemed almost normal, for the week after that; her father showered her in gifts, even though he was clearly strained and nervous. But he kept asking her if she remembered. When she mentioned she did each time, he asked, she did not know how much trouble it would bring. Four weeks after the incident, she awoke to screaming, only in time to watch one of her guards being murdered. She tried to hide away, but she couldn’t. The last thing she fully remembered was sharp pain in her stomach. When she awoke, she was in a hospital, but she was not in England. She wasn’t sure where she was, but they kept calling her a strange name. Finally, when a woman came to take her home it was all explained to some degree. Her father had wanted her gone, so he’d pretended she’d went away to some other place, when really she was there. Those were the terms she’d gotten. At first the woman tried to be nice, but as Aerie insisted on going back to her family, the woman made it clear that would not happen. Rules only got stricter as she grew, and though she took the new name, she could not reject her history and the scar on her side from where she’d been stabbed reflected the truth in her memories. The more she insisted on being free, or remembering, the harsher the woman raising her got. She was beaten and abused, rarely ever allowed to leave the house and when she was it was while she was watched. It wasn’t until she was in her twenties that she finally got free from her constraints. She fought to get used to the world, eventually achieving what she wanted. Once she’d adjusted, she sought out all and any information she could on her family. She finally put together what it all meant, and why she did more research on her Aunt. It had taken almost every drop of money she had managed to steal or earn, but she learned that her father had been doing this to her aunt since they were teenagers and that the last assault had resulted in something dark, a pregnancy. The pregnancy of her aunt who was married to Ireland royalty had been revealed only two days before her attack, and though it had been revealed as her husband’s child, she knew the difference. She’d been attacked by her father to keep quiet, and the baby her aunt had delivered, Tomas, was her brother and cousin. It took almost another year to find a way to get to her siblings, but eventually found her in by getting a job as a cook in the Royal Pains Estate.

✗ Secret; Aerie is the secret sibling of Christian and Grayson. Her death was faked by her father when she was only a small child because she saw him assaulting her Aunt, the same assault that led to her Aunt’s pregnancy with Tomas.

» ; ♛ ❮CLOSED❯

Character quote: ❝Happiness is a fragile thing.❞

✗ — Name: Selina Caspari. ✗ — Age: 21 ✗ — Kingdom: Switzerland. ✗ — Sexuality: Bisexual.

— Personality; Selina is a sweet, outspoken, funny girl. She often says things before she thinks them over in her mind but it usually just adds to her charm. Even though she had seen the worst in humanity, she remains optimistic and open. At times she can come across as dumb when in reality she’s very smart, with an IQ that was able to get her into any school she wanted. It doesn’t seem likely, but she is capable of giving tough love to people she cares about because she only wants what is best for everyone around her. Selina is an innocent soul and often tries to see the best in most people. Her friends are lucky because she is viciously loyal and would do anything she could to protect those she cares for.

— Biography; Selina was always a disappointment to her family. The black sheep that her parents just couldn’t get to abide by their rules. Her parents were very harsh and often restricted Selina from doing things other children were able to do. She wasn’t like most royals. She has always believed that everyone was an equal and never discriminated against someone simply because they were poor compared to her. Because of this she was friends with a lot of people her parents didn’t approve of and one of these friends went by the name Sebastian Munteanu. They only ever met once every couple of years since their families were rulers of different kingdoms. Her parents were always critical of his claiming that they weren’t fit enough for the royal crown because they acted like regular people and sent Sebastian to a public school. When they realized that Selina had become close to the boy they cut off contact with him until he turned eighteen and arrived back in Switzerland in hopes of joining their kingdoms together. The meeting with her parents didn’t go to plan but when Selina saw him again there was an instant attraction. After spending some time together behind her parent back, the couple started a secret relationship that ran for over a year without anyone finding out. Their relationship was later exposed by one of her maids after Selina accidentally left a pregnancy test in the bathroom. Since Selina’s parents never really got along well with the Munteanu family, her dad became infuriated when it was announced, at a gathering for his forty second birthday, that his only child had not only been having a secret relationship with the prince of Moldova, but she had actually fallen pregnant with Sebastian’s child. He made such a huge scene about it in the restaurant that all huge media outlets in Switzerland were alerted of the princess’s pregnancy. However, her father was determined to keep it a secret. Once they arrived back at home that night, he beat her so viciously that she miscarried. The next morning Selina woke up in bed and was informed by the news, a paper was sent out informing the kingdom that Selina had never even met Sebastian, and later on when she went to see him he had left. She had never felt so hurt or betrayed before so when he tried to make contact with her, Selina declined his calls and later blocked his number, hoping things would go back to the way they were before. That wasn’t the case. A few months later Selina noticed something different was happening to her body. She wasn’t getting her period at all. At first she demanded to see a new doctor claiming that she couldn’t have possibly lost the baby, but when another doctor was provided it was later determined that Selina was infertile and wouldn’t be able to carry any children of her own. Realizing it was the damage her dad had caused the night he found out of her pregnancy that caused her to be infertile she threatened to expose him. Threatened by his daughters behavior, the king soon sent Selina to royal pains under the false pretense that she had started to believe scenarios that weren’t real, Selina didn’t put up any arguments and was just happy to get away from her parents.

✗ Secret; After a recent check-up Selina was informed that she is infertile.

「 Faceclaim: Ashley Benson. 」

—Admin L.

» ; ♛ ❮CLOSED❯

Character quote: ❝I’m so powerful I don’t need batteries to play.❞

✗ — Name: Piper Mykonos. ✗ — Age: 23. ✗ — Kingdom: Greece. ✗ — Sexuality: Heterosexual.

— Personality; Piper was the rebellious child of the Mykonos family. Her sister paled in comparison to her. Piper carried all traits everyone hated in a royal. And she didn’t care that they didn’t want her either, the idea of committing to ruling a kingdom frightened her, unlike anything else. She was ill mannered, blunt, without social graces, fierce, reckless, disobedient and resilient. She was one of the fires people just couldn’t put out or manage to tame. And while most people held her as reckless and everything dark about the royal lifestyle, she had a deeper substance than that. A protective nature and a deep loyalty that once earned could not be broken.

— Biography; Piper was the disgrace of her family. Her sister was known to be a little rebellious, but she had nothing on Piper. Piper was wild and reckless. She didn’t shy away from the tabloids and certainly didn’t quietly meet her mother’s high standards. The pressure she’d been put under from an early age had led to her rebelling in whatever way she possibly could. Whether it was drinking or using drugs, or sleeping around and making sure every wild acquisition was published in a magazine, she was her mother’s worse nightmare. Her mother decided there was one way to tame her and restore any sort of hope she had of gaining a good reputation, and that was through a marriage alliance. Without her consent, she had it arranged and shipped Piper off to Ireland to live with her husband to be. Perhaps it might have been different if the man had been nice, but no. Tomas was abusive and horrible. He was stuck in the old ways, believing women had no place but to serve men. And Piper’s disobedience infuriated him. It was just grabbing at first. But then it got a bit worse. It got to the point where she was covering up bruises daily. She ended up losing the will to fight back, until the night before the wedding. It hit her that they would be married for the rest of her life, that she’d be stuck with him. And so, she decided she had to get away. She plotted her escape, and ended up nearly getting out without being caught. Tomas found her though, he was furious. And so, to punish her he raped her. After that, she managed to knock him out and get away. She legally broke ties with him and tried to return to her mother. Her mother didn’t believe her when she told her what had happened. As revenge, she became more wild and reckless than ever, every little thing she did to spite her mother. Her mother had had enough and decided to send Piper away. She was brought to the Estate, where she learned she was pregnant, as a result of what Tomas had done to her no less.

✗ Secret; Her ex-fiancé sexually assaulted their before the wedding.

「 Faceclaim: Phoebe Tonkin. 」

» ; ♛ ❮CLOSED❯

Character quote: ❝ You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys. ❞

✗ — Name: Elena Bryne. ✗ — Age: 20. ✗ — Kingdom: Ireland. ✗ — Sexuality: Bisexual.

— Personality; Elena had started out as compassionate and loving. She was a protective, honourable sister and a perfect royal. She has always had a big heart and would do anything so see someone smile. It all changed after the assault. Her personality completely changed. She started by shutting everyone out, including her sister. She became irritable, cold and downright bitchy. Deep down Elena wanted ensure no one would ever be able to hurt her again, so she pushed them all away. She became jealous of her sister’s innocence and started to take everything out on her. Elena has learnt how to be manipulative to get her own way and finds it hard to trust anyone.

— Biography; Elena has always been known as the more outgoing one out of the Bryne siblings. She was even extremely friendly as a child and loving as she grew up. Starting out, her and her sister were very friendly with each other, they were never the best of friends, though, but they were friendly enough for the sake of the kingdom. Over time the girls quickly let their differences go and became friends for real, there was no pretending and they were close. Things soon started to change after Elena was sexually assaulted by a King, the King who later turned out to be the father of Ellie’s betrothed. Elena never imagined that he would do that to her, he was always friendly towards her but she just assumed that was because their two kingdoms would be coming together. She was misled by his actions and wished she had realised what his true intentions were at the start. After the assault, Elena's bubbly personality completely changed. She wasn't the same girl any more, she became irritable, bitchy, and colder towards everyone around her. She decided to ice everyone out, so she’d never be hurt again by anyone. She was too scared to let anyone close in fear of the same things happening to her. She lost a lot of people, but she tried not to let it effect her. The easiest way to not get her was to let no one love her. She started to bully her sister, jealous of the innocent demeanour she managed to keep while she was stuck dying on the inside. No one realised what had happened as Elena refused to talk about the assault. She feared no one would believe her or they would assume she was asking for it. She was only a teenager, and he took advantage of her but Elena's mind played tricks on her and wouldn't allow her to see that she was the victim. Besides, if she told anyone then she would have to relive it and all she wanted to do was forget. As she got older, her stress relief, her unhealthy stress relief started. She got depressed, not that she’d ever let anyone know, instead she just pretended as if she was still the Queen bee and the perfect royal to be. For a while, it was believable, no one questioned it at all. That was until her parents caught her self-harming once and since she hadn't told them what was wrong, they decided she might not be able to handle the stress of being Queen. They made it seem as if her sister would take over. To teach her how to deal with being royal, they sent her to Royal Pains, along with her sister.

✗ Secret; Elena was assaulted by a King and the father of the son Ellie was arranged to be married to, this caused her to start to self-harm.

「 Faceclaim: Crystal Reed. 」

#initiateprogram #unavailablefemales

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theodcra-blog · 5 years ago

Text

✱ kim doyeon. she / her. cis female. — i know that theodora “ theo ” jung is one of the roses. which makes sense because the twenty year old’s parents are hollywood royalty known for producing and recording multi-platinum awarded albums. rumors say that they are the quixotic of the group , but who knows if that’s true. + plucking petals off of daisies in the name of a crush , steeping teabags for too long , the scent of perfume left behind on a pillowcase.

hello ! im xan and im late as usual but alas ... 😔 im 22 , from the est timezone ( even though my sleeping schedule … does not reflect that sjbdwjkbdjdw ) & i go by she / her pronouns ! i truly ... never know what im doing with intros they just turn out long & messy aha ... are u ready ? *jungkook vc* let’s get it ! 😋

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ QUICK STATS !

full name: theodora marie jung.

nickname(s): theo, teddy, dora ( but only by bullies 😠 ).

zodiac: libra sun, aqua moon ( click ! )

sexuality: bisexual.

occupation: singer / songwriter, model.

birthplace: los angeles, california.

current residence: wherever this rp is taking place aha x

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ BACKSTORY ! ( tw: sexual themes )

so her parent’s story was actually a pretty big scandal in the 90′s ! basically theo’s mom was the pretty famous front woman of a band ( think stevie nicks in fleetwood mac ) who was long engaged to the guitarist of that same band....until one day it was announced she was quitting the group and starting her solo career, leaving her fiance, and signing to a new label.....which was run by theo’s father, a young up & coming producer taking over the family business. not even three months later theo’s mom releases her first solo album, produced and co-written by theo’s father, basically detailing this years long affair the two had been having... in a series of really catchy, moving, and wildly successful songs.

the public went crazy over the drama, especially when rumors started circulating ( through detailed analysis of the lyrics to all of theo’s mom’s solo songs ) that the well known band had actually been quite toxic. basically it was enough to convince media outlets and fans alike to forgive theo’s parents for being cheaters and breaking up the band JSDBWBDJWBD. by the time theo was born in the last year of the iconic decade that launched both her parents into stardom, everyone couldn’t be happier the two stars were getting the happy life they deserved <3

so here comes baby theo.....and the world kind of just immediately labels her as america’s sweetheart. her mom had some minor health issues which just meant it would be safer to not have anymore kids after theo, so not only was she this little angel to the public, she was also her parent’s little miracle baby ! lets just say she had some big shoes to fill bc of all the expectations ..

luckily no one had to worry abt her being a demon child JSBDJWDWJ because she turned out to be a very sweet kid ! she was a HUGE daydreamer since she spent a lot of time alone growing up </3 her mom had retired from singing and was now helping theo’s dad run the label, and the two of them were always busy looking for new talent to sign. she didn’t have any siblings and although she had a really attentive nanny it just .. wasn’t the same ?? so to #Cope JSBDWBSBDJW theo was always creating these super elaborate little fantasy worlds. it wasn’t uncommon for u to find her deeply engrossed playing barbies alone like she had scripts and everything

by the time she was a preteen her parents were both really pressuring theo into thinking about a singing career, so wanting to please them ( and knowing that it was something she was kinda into anyway ) theo said ok sure ! and that’s where.....things start to take a turn. since she was so young she had this very very clean, innocent, cute image ( think disney stars ) & most of the music she was making was used for kids shows or movies. she didn’t really mind it so much but she noticed that her creative process wasn’t really valued ? or taken very seriously by her parents, because in their eyes like that’s their kid you know she’s still young, she’s always had her head in the clouds, they just really didn’t think it was a big deal if they took control.

so theo put up with it, but the years kept going by, she kept getting older, and nothing was really changing. she still had a squeaky clean image, little say in the type of music she was making, but on the outside everything looked great. the public loved her, she was a role model for kids ( even though she was a teenager now ), it was all perfect.....until it wasn’t. when she was 16, she had a scandal akin to the vanessa hudgen’s nude photo leak, except it wasn’t as explicit ( not a nude, just a suggestive pic ) and it was way way worse considering theo was a minor.

legal action was immediately taken by her parents, but once something’s out there you can’t really stop it from circulating, so the photos existed, just not on any official media sites. it was traumatizing for theo having her privacy breached like that, especially because instead of talking about how disgusting it was that someone would leak those photos when she was just a teen, gossip sites & fans alike were too busy talking about how her image was ruined. since she’d had such a clean, innocent reputation, people kinda forgot that... she was an actual person going through life growing up, and that she wasn’t perfect.

theo, being the optimist she is, was like hey you know what? this is my chance to stop making music i dont love. after what was probably her first truly honest convo with her parents, they agreed she should be free to figure herself and her art out. so for the remainder of her teenage years theo fell off the face of the music world....

only to pop back up in the modeling one ! like most celebrities, social media had a big say in this. since reputation wasn’t something theo had going for her anymore, what she did have was a hell of a following still and two famous parents ( not to mention ... shes tall JSBDJWBDWJ ) she did maybe one runway show before deciding she hated that. tbh she hated any modeling that felt too constricting, which is why she never ended up doing anything for big names & mostly does stuff for foreign brands & magazines.

she liked how much aesthetics had to do with modeling, and to some extent being a part of shoots satisfied that creative itch she had, but music was always her first love. theo really wanted to go back and revisit it, but she was scared the public’s reaction wouldn’t be what she hoped /:

so following in her mother’s footsteps, theo’s re entrance into the music scene was an ep ( 100% written, produced, edited, you name it, by her ) she released on the eve of her 18th bday basically explaining everything she went through with art. it was only four songs + an interlude, which would become the most talked about part of the whole thing because it was snippets of various reporters talking about that photo leak.

the public had mixed feelings ! unlike with what happened with her parents, not everyone was ready to “forgive” theo. and since she hadn’t done any promo for her music, or for her career as an artist independent from her parent’s famous label, it wasn’t like she was making crazy money and getting all this recognition. but !! she was insanely insanely happy, and that’s when she realized making music wasn’t something she did for other people, just something she liked to share, so what did it really matter if she could be more famous if she was an artist under her parent’s label ?

cue present day theo, model & singer, although the labels are pretty loose. although her music is getting way more recognition than it did three years ago, she’s still trying to do things independently from her parents, and she still has yet to become a chanel ambassador or anything crazy SDWBKWKFW. because of that she’s kind of garnered this new reputation for herself as one of those celebs that don’t really feel like celebs, like maybe she’s just like u except let’s be real she’s rich and her experiences are NOT universal even if her cute insta pic talking about ~her feelings~ in the caption makes u think they are

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ PERSONALITY + TIDBITS !

not even gonna lie to u guys....she is baby. i dont mean that in a uwu shes 20 but im gonna weirdly make her act like a child way im not a freak shes just baby ! like i mentioned earlier theo was a HUGE daydreamer growing up, and tbh she still is except now that’s she’s older her overactive imagination can kinda get her into trouble. a good example of that is the fact that since she’s so keen to see the silver linings in life and the bright sides, she can neglect the bad sides of people and situations so things still fit into her romanticized vision /: this was the cause for many heartbreaks in theo’s life, and she’s still guilty of doing this although she’s trying to work on it !

very much the kind of person to treat everyone like a friend ( that means strangers too ) until you prove you should be treated otherwise. it takes a lot for her to not fuck with you, so if she doesn’t like you then you probably did something to deserve it /: she’s always had a curious personality as well so it’s really easy for her to connect with people just because she’s constantly fascinated by what she doesn’t know about a person. sometimes it can make ppl uncomfortable just how casually she can have a deep convo, but she just never had that filter where she has to know you for 5 years before she opens up about her trauma </3 you know how when bp’s rose and red velvet’s joy had dinner for the first time rose made joy cry bc she was talking abt her family and stuff ? JSDBWBDW theo is rose ... she’s out there sharing trauma deepening that bond day 1 of knowing you baby ! 🤧

despite all that she’s still kind of maintained this elusive air to her? it’s not like she does it on purpose, or like no one knows the real her, it’s more like just when you’ve learned one new thing about her you realize there’s that many more things you don’t know. it also doesn’t help the fact that she’s constantly romanticizing everything, most of all herself, so she’s really crafted this “dream girl” persona without fully realizing it. im not exaggerating when i say john green wants what she has </3

a lot of times people see her as naive, not because she often sees the good in people or anything like that ( although she does ), but because she has this overwhelming sureness that everything works out in the end. to be fair though, for her, things usually do. call it good karma, luck, whatever you want, but the fact of the matter is even when it looks like there’s no way a situation can turn out well for her, somehow it does. it’s a healthy combination of money, privilege, and a charming personality but to theo it’s proof that she’s right.

naturally.....as an air sign JSBDJWBJWBD she’s a huge flirt ! the media’s always linking her to someone because she really makes it seem like she’s dating half of hollywood when the reality is she’s just being friendly. when she actually likes someone it kind of turns into a huge deal like she gets infatuated with her crushes, swears she’s in love — and then poof. one day she wakes up & realizes she’s kinda over it ... until the next person comes along of course <3

hates conflict and confrontation.....and i mean HATES it to the point where she doesn’t even confront stuff within herself ( i.e. “negative” feelings like sadness ) until one day it all bubbles over and she’s having a legit breakdown and dying her hair red.

yes, that’s exactly what happened last year, although if you ask theo about it she’ll just be like aha what do you mean i just wanted red hair luv x

pictures like these ( click ! ) of theo when she'd be walking around LA in her school uniform used to go viral on twitter.

desperately wishes she was the type of singer ppl would throw their bras at on stage when the reality is she’s out there making some chill bedroom pop kind of stuff so rip that dream </33333

knows how to play the piano and the guitar, but keeps joking one day she’s gonna make an album and only use her recorder as the instrumentals.

has a white british longhair kitty named zoe.

is 100% that bitch that can only drink sweet drinks & fruity cocktails and u know what she’s valid for it !

if she wasn’t famous she’d be making slime. legit running a slime making insta, those were her guilty pleasure & shes so mad they aren’t that popular anymore JSBDJWBDJW

u know that post that’s like “i hate making tea i always feel so bad about throwing away the tea bag i feel like i should just eat it” ? thats theo

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ WANTED CONNECTIONS !

BEST FRIENDS: a power duo the public either loves or hates, ride or dies, that 1 person theo would drop everything for no matter what.....yeah 🥺 they’d be the person she’s closest to & vice versa !

CHILDHOOD / FAMILY FRIENDS: their famous parents were friends, so it’s only natural they wanted their kids to be friends too. just imagine the stories ..... the memories .... maybe they got along really well and are still friends today ! or maybe theo pushed your muse off of the swings ( she claims it was an accident ) and your muse never forgot and to this day they’re sworn enemies.....</3 or less dramatic......they just drifted apart and now it’s like hey we used to be so close aha thats awkward let me just smile at you and walk away ....

LIKE SIBLINGS: someone who sees theo as a sister, and who theo considers her unofficial sibling. most likely she’s gonna bother the shit out of this person as siblings do but they really mean a lot to her because it’s the family she never had /:

CONFIDANTS: the one person theo keeps finding herself talking about the things she usally keeps inside with. i think it’d be funny if both of them find it weird to do things like go out to lunch or shop together because that’s not what they’re used to !

ACQUAINTANCES: friends who are only really friends when both of them are wasted or friends who only comment heart eye emojis and fire sign emojis under each others insta posts but don’t actually talk much for whatever reason

FRIENDS THAT DATED: maybe things just ended amiably between them, or maybe it’s like an “everyone told us we should date so we tried it and boy was that the weirdest thing we ever did” situation. either way the outcome is they’e still friends <3

CAHOOTS: what is this u may ask ? someone theo can be in cahoots with. she has a dumb idea that no one else is likely to say yes to? she goes to ur muse. ur muse has an idea no one in their right mind would say yes to? they go to theo. these two are in cahoots !

BAD INFLUENCE: although that america’s sweetheart reputation is gone, overall theo is still seen as a “good girl” by the public. she’s not one to be in a lot of scandals so i think it’d be really fun if your muse is corrupting that ( whether they’re doing it on purpose or not ) and whenever theo’s with them she just somehow always manages to end up in trouble.

THE BIG EX: theo’s first real relationship, and first real heartbreak. everyone before them had been an infatuation, but your muse was the real deal. maybe the media ruined it, or they ruined it themselves by being too scared of their feelings to stick around, or maybe one of them was willing to try but the other wasn’t. either way it ended badly, and whether those feelings are resolved or not....thats a secret i’ll never tell x

SUMMER FLINGS: give me past & current ( or maybe even recurring ) summer flings where they both know it’s temporary but boy is it fun while it lasts. google their names together and you’ll find paparazzi snapshots on the backs of vespas, on million dollar yachts, holding hands in museums or sunbathing on the beach but by the time fall comes creeping in the romance is over.

HOOKUPS: friends with benefits and it’s not awkward between them, friends with benefits and it’s super weird between them because they may be crossing over into real feeling territory, one night stands / hookups that were huge mistakes, one night stands or hookups that were or are being kept secret from the rest of the roses for whatever reason, someone who leads theo on but never gets serious about her, or someone she leads on but she never gets serious about, her go-to hookup on a night out when she’s partying, etc.

WILL THEY WON’T THEY: a friendship that always teeters on the line of something romantic ! maybe they’re both oblivious to the chemistry / tension or maybe they’re aware of it because they get jealous when they hear about the other being with someone else… maybe they refuse to do anything about it because they don’t want to complicate things or maybe they purposefully cross lines when they feel that jealousy…..could be more angsty or it could be more wholesome depending on which way it goes 😈

ARTIST TO ARTIST: i don’t think .... we have any other singers / ppl in the music industry but i could for sure be wrong JSBDSJBDJWD but ! i still would love to have people theo’s worked with before. maybe if your muses has been acting since they were little, theo could have mingled with them back when she was doing music for kids shows & movies. maybe your muse is a model and theo and them have done shoots together before. maybe theo’s written a current song for a movie / tv show your muse was a part of. maybe your muse is a model and theo asked them to feature on the cover of one of her albums. maybe she hired your muse to act in the music video of one of her songs ! maybe your muse can also sing even though that’s not their main thing and theo’s asked them to feature on a song with her. there are soooo many possibilities that could be lots of fun <33

MISC: “we used to party together all the time until that one thing happen that neither of us talk about and now we don’t do that anymore”, someone who took care of drunk theo once and ever since then she’s taken that as an open invitation to knock on your muse’s door at 3 am completely wasted, “we tried to date but the paparazzi caught us on a date and we were too scared / sick of the public eye so we never got far”, flirty friends who say no i’d never sleep with you haha…unless you’re down?, your muse was theo’s first time OR theo was your muse’s first time, stereotypical happy go lucky and grumpy relationship where the grumpy muse pretends not to enjoy the other’s presence, enemies but it can’t be anything petty it would have to be pretty serious so if u want that drama....

that’s the end i promise it’s finally over 😭😭😭 i truly just ramble & ramble im really so sorry abt that JSDJWBDJWBDJWBDJW i tried to include as much info as possible to make plotting a little easier for all of us so lets pray this works </3 u can come message me on discord to plot @ seulgi ily ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ#8172 so give this a like if u wanna .... do that ahahahaha x

#╰ ♡ . 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔 ── ooc !#i didnt proof read a thing if u find a typo u can keep her <3 JSBDJWBDJW #this is . ridiculously long for no good reason im so sorry but now u know the real me ...#roses:intro

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lexvide · 3 years ago

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Full Backstory.

Warning: Contains mentions of parent death, sibling death, child neglect, murder, abuse, torture and mental health stigma. While the following story is not overtly dark throughout, the above subject matters are strong underlying themes. You have been warned.

Growing up.

Valere was born in Calais on February 22nd, 1752. He was born to a Catholic family and was christened Valere Étienne Pierre Lavigne.

He was born to Etianne Céline Claire Forté, the daughter of an upstanding middle-class family from the French commune of Villefort, and Claude Pierre Lavigne, a born and bread Parisian who had recently relocated to Calais.

Etianne and Claude married for mutual benefit and stability. However, it wasn’t until after their marriage that Etianne would discover Claude’s deception, by which he grossly exaggerated his wealth. While he had once come from a wealthy family, he had recently been estranged and cut off and acquired sizeable debts. This resulted in Etianne and her family having to be the soul financial supporters of the marriage.

During their marriage, Claude used their allowance to open an export branch of Calais lace. He christened his company Lavigne Lace and at first, things seemed to be going well.

However, it didn’t take long for customers and competitors alike to become wary of Claude. Lavigne Lace was quick to garner a reputation for shady production and shoddy quality, along with rumours of overcharging and client’s money mysteriously disappearing.

Claude obsessed over Lavigne Lace, seeing it as get-rich-quick scheme and a way to spite his estranged family.

Meanwhile, Claude and Etianne’s children were born. Laurent came first in 1740, followed by Valere six years later and finally, Céline three years after that. Sadly, Valere’s time as a middle child was cut tragically short after his little sister, Céline, died of childbed fever, leaving behind just him and his older brother.

Claude disliked children in general. His motivation for having them in the first place was financial as he was in need of an heir to inherit his precious business.

As such, Valere was much closer with his mother during the first years of his life. She was a gentle woman who did anything she could to protect her two boys against Claude’s temper, which worsened once the children came along.

When Valere was six years old, Claude had taken Laurent out of town to coach him on business matters, as he so often did. During this time, Etianne contracted a severe case of cholera. With Claude being too stingy to pay for domestic help, the young Valere was left alone with her.

He tried his best to nurse her but ultimately didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that drinking water was important when treating fever, unaware that the water had caused the problem in the first place.

Etianne was dead within hours.

This left Laurent and Valere alone with Claude, who took care of the matter swiftly. The Coroner confirmed the cause of death and she was buried within days. They never spoke of the incident again.

In the years following, Laurent, who had dreams of becoming a painter, was stuck as the unwillingly heir to Lavigne Lace. As the first born, he was the more favoured of the two while Valere was more or less considered ‘the spare part’.

While endless pressure was forcefully placed on Laurent, Valere was neglected entirely. Laurent grew to deeply resent his father’s business and would practice his artwork in secret. Meanwhile, Valere, who was academically inclined, grew equally resentful as he watched his brother seemingly squander opportunities that he could only dream of.

While he had no more interest in his father’s shady business than Laurent did, he did feel that he was much more equipped to make use of the expensive education Laurent was receiving. While Laurent disliked what was being forced on him, Valere became increasingly embittered from envy of it.

Laurent did what he could to protect his little brother in the absence of their mother, with Valere often being used as a household lackey and an outlet for Claude’s temper. However, despite Laurent’s best efforts, Valere’s hurt and jealously caused by their father’s treatment of them eventually drove a wedge between the two brothers.

During all this, while Valere and Laurent were growing up, Claude was imprisoned multiple times for crimes such as debt, fraud and embezzlement, during which time the task of bailing him out would fall to his two sons.

While Laurent was content to leave him locked up, Valere was usually the one who would through on this task. Not because he particularly wanted him out anymore than his brother did but more because he saw these incidents as an opportunity. They were the only chances he ever got to flex his smarts a little, as well as learn and apply a wealth of new skills.

Pulling strings through the use of his father’s pre-established business connections, Valere found ways in which to acquire large sums of money in short amounts of time. During this time, he learned the ins and outs of basic business and accounting skills. Also not wanting to make their family situation any worse, he supplemented these skills by reading up on the law so as to complete these tasks in as legally sound a manner as possible.

By the time he was eighteen years old, Valere was able to manipulate the system with such dexterity that it would doubtless provoke envy from even the most upstanding of lawyers.

Shortly after Valere’s nineteenth birthday, however, Claude Lavigne got himself into a situation that neither of his sons could weasel him out of. He was charged with mass embezzlement, robbery at knifepoint and the subsequent murder of two of his victims, both of whom he owed money.

His trial was held the very next week, in which he was convicted of all charges and sent to the scaffold shortly after.

To this day, neither of his sons know whether or not the conviction was truly correct.

Freedom.

Following their father’s death, both sons left Calais. Valere took what savings he had and left for Paris more or less immediately, while Laurent stayed behind for a short while so as to formally shut down Lavigne Lace for good, before also leaving Calais to go travelling.

With all that had happened, upholding justice and fairness had become something incredibly close to Valere’s heart. He burned to acquire the wealth and success his father dreamed of for himself. However, as someone who had grown to detest unfairness, he wanted to attain success the opposite way in which father had attempted to do so. Valere vowed to himself that he would live fairly and justly and be much better off as a result.

Eager to pursue this legacy, Valere decided that law was his calling and removed all obvious connections between him and his scandalised father, so as not to face any prejudice upon entering the profession - the last thing he needed was any more obstacles. And so, just before leaving for Paris, he legally removed Lavigne from his name and replaced it with Forté, his mother’s maiden name and the name of a just and respectable family. That and truth be told, he just liked that name a great deal better. For many reasons.

For the time in their lives, both sons were free...

Rise.

Upon his arrival in Paris, Valere found employment with a Parisian law firm as a clerk and courtroom scribe. Placing all his passion and fervour into his new employment, he climbed the ladder rapidly and within two years, he had gained official advisor status.

Despite achieving this huge career leap at such an uncommonly young age, Valere wasn’t even close to being satisfied. He continued to work relentlessly and slowly but surely, his name became more and more known within the industry. He gained a regular clientele who became increasingly widespread and upstanding the more Valere’s reputation grew. At last, Valere was seeing the fruits of his labour, earning good money, a good name and finally, a training contract from his law firm with which to become a fully licensed solicitor.

As he became more and more known throughout France, news of the audacious newcomer eventually reached Versailles. Intrigued, King Louis requested to meet him, an opportunity that Valere grasped with both hands.

During his visit, Valere turned up the charm, his time spent around the bourgeois in recent years having taught him a great deal in terms of courtly etiquette.

Several members of the aristocracy took an immediate liking to him, which in turn gained him an entirely new clientele. Now with a name not just throughout France but within the Royal Court, Valere eventually gained the ultimate prized client; the King himself.

As a result of his association with the Royal family, Valere’s fame and reputation doubled, as did his fortune. Within five years of leaving home, he had acquired wealth and success beyond his father’s wildest dreams and had done so via just causes.

As time passed, Valere continued to work hard and gain favour within the Royal Family.

For his services, the King awarded Valere the title of Valere de Villefort, after the place from which Valere had claimed to have come from, alongside the rest of the Forté family. This was a lie put in place as a further precaution against his unfavourable past, now fearing association with the Lavigne family more than ever.

Shortly after this triumph, the King, now considering Valere a valued member of his court, announced that he was to be matched with Lady Charlotte Howard, the daughter of an English aristocratic family.

This marriage had been arranged as a minor political statement; a way of trying to improve Anglo-French relations by show of a union.

Valere was full of reservation upon hearing this news. This was partly a result of fear due to his latent homosexuality (of which he was vaguely aware but had always tried to put out of mind). Nevertheless, he agreed to match anyway, thinking it the best thing to do given the circumstances.

Despite the marriage having been decided for them, Valere and Charlotte took full advantage of the courting period. Over time they found they complimented one another well and very much enjoyed each other’s company. The two of them grew close and each came to love the other a great deal. Although neither party ever conveyed just how terrified they were of the wedding night, each for a very similar reason.

Alongside this, it is arranged that Valere would be royally knighted and acquire the official aristocratic title of Chevalier de Villefort, as well as being offered the job of the King’s right-hand advisor once his solicitors license was finalised.

At this point, it seemed that life for Valere was a bed of roses.

Fall.

During his time at court, Valere crosses paths with a professional rival by the name Gustave Beaumont. While rivalry isn commonplace within the competitive worlds of both law and court life, Beaumont stands out.

There was something about him that made Valere uncomfortable and he had been aware since their first meeting that Beaumont had he taken a disliking to him. However, Valere decided to pay him no mind. He stayed out of his way as much as he could and was civil when their meeting was unavoidable.

Beaumont was nearly two decades older than Valere and had been working to secure the position of right-hand advisor to the King. Having been in the business far longer than Valere, he viewed him as little more than a young upstart and was not in the least bit concerned of ever being overtaken by him.

One can only imagine the shock he felt when he one day woke to discover that Valere had done exactly that; livid would have been a gross understatement.

Unable to accept the loss, Beaumont deliberated for weeks on what to do. He did what he could to try and sway the King’s opinion and overturn the decision but ultimately failed. Exhausted of options, he eventually settled upon the most simple yet most risky solution for dealing with Valere; he would simply have to get rid of him.

To do this, he would have to change tactics. Rather than trying to convince the King of his own merit, Beaumont would have to instead convince him of Valere’s faults.

Through both bribery and exploitation of professional jealousy among some of his other piers, Beaumont gathered together a small group of allies who set about the task of researching Valere’s history, trying to dig up any dirt they could to help bring about his fall from favour.

This being one of the oldest tricks in the book, they didn’t hold out much hope; this was merely a place to start.

As such, they were left very pleasantly surprised when they discovered a dubious connection between Valere and a painter named Laurent Lavigne. A little more digging and Valere was quickly connected to a shady export company named Lavigne Lace.

From here, Valere de Villefort’s upstanding persona crumbled piece by piece. With one connection leading to another, Beaumont gathered himself of goldmine scandals and unfavourable incidents, many of which would malleable to his will. After all, the very best lies always contain little fragments of truth...

Blissfully unaware of Beaumont’s proceedings, Valere was summoned to court a few months later. He was lead into a room attended by the King, the royal family and piers of the realm, in the middle of which he was ordered to kneel. Confused, Valere obeyed.

It was here that Beaumont presented his case. He began by exposing the various scandals of Valere’s biological family, from the mass embezzlements to the eventual murder trial. Using little nuggets of innocent truth, he was able strongly fabricate Valere’s involvement with his father’s criminal activities and the methods with which he acquired the money frequently used to bail him from the debtors prison.

From here, Beaumont painted a grim picture of Valere as a pathological liar, who was masterfully deceptive and doubtlessly malevolent in his intentions.

This alone was a huge blow to Valere’s reputation and yet Beaumont still wasn’t done. Having spent the last months weaving together a complex but convincing narrative via grossly twisted evidence, he was able to convincingly accuse Villefort of murdering his mother when he was a child.

In doing this, Beaumont had finally hit the King’s weak spots. A paranoid, melancholic and somewhat naive individual, a case such as this was exactly the thing needed to finally sway the King’s mind.

Sure enough, sucked in by Beaumont’s unbridled charisma, the King became convinced of his arguments and was heartbroken by the supposed betrayal.

Furious, he refused Valere a fair trial and convicted him on the spot.

Usually, a case such as this would result in one being sent to the scaffold. However, due to the worst of the proposed crimes having supposedly occurred during Valere’s childhood, paired with the Royal family’s sentimentality towards him, the King thought twice before sending Valere to his death.

Despite feeling fury and heartbreak towards the young man, he was unable to accept that someone he had trusted so entirely could possibly have been an inherently evil individual; the one thing at which Beaumont had failed to convince him.

He proposed that the crimes committed were “not a result of evil nature but rather of being under the influence of evil; a possible demon of the mind that may well be expunged with proper treatment��.

Valere was exempt from the death penalty and instead sentenced to being involuntarily committed to the ‘House Of The Insane’, the period of which was indefinite.

And so, having only recently acquired his much sort after solicitor’s qualification and with less than a fortnight before his wedding was due to take place, Valere carted away to the so-called ‘hospital’, where he was locked up, abused and tortured alongside hundreds of other unfortunate patients who were deemed ‘unsound of mind’.

Wishing simply to move on and not dwell any further on the matter, the King decided against making any public announcements regarding Valere’s situation.

This worked to Beaumont’s advantage. He had his allies spread the gossip that Valere had been charged with matricide and, while trying to resist arrest, had fallen into the Seine and drowned.

Despite Valere not receiving the death penalty as Beaumont had hoped, he was nevertheless confident that his false death in the public eye would be more than enough to keep anyone from looking any further into the matter.

Valere de Villefort was dead and that was that. Nothing more to say.

The Coroner Calls.

Eleven months after Valere’s detainment, Versailles received a letter from Calais.

Beaumont, now having taken the place of the King’s official right-hand advisor, was the first to read the correspondence. And its contents shook him to the core.

The letter was from a Coroner named Jaques Monet, the very same Coroner who had examined the body of Etianne Céline Claire Forté Lavigne.

Having heard the rumours behind Valere’s death, Monet had written in to reconfirmed that cholera had been the direct cause of Etianne Lavigne’s death, owed to an undetected sewage spill and subsequent build-up within the water system.

In his explanation, Monet placed strong emphasis on the fact that Madame Lavigne had not been the only one in the area to have either died or become severely ill as a result. With everything backed by records, Monet stated at the end of his letter that he would willingly testify the information if necessary and as such, it was strongly advisable that the late Monsieur Forté be granted a full, posthumous pardon.

Made both terrified and furious by Monet’s letter, Beaumont announced that he would travel to Calais immediately and track down the Coroner, so as to ‘deal with him swiftly and appropriately’. Meanwhile, Beaumont ordered one of his old co-conspirators, Blaise Dupont, to the hospital in order to ‘take care of Forté in the very same fashion’.

Equally frantic from fear of his own involvement in the lie being exposed, Dupont agreed and left immediately for the hospital, only to be ruefully informed upon arrival that the staff had lost the patient in question.

Assuming this meant Valere had succumbed to the brutal ‘treatments’ to which patients of these facilities were frequently subjected, Dupont left the hospital in a state of relief, glad that they now had once less thing to deal with.

Terrified of the repercussions, the hospital staff allowed this to play out, deciding not to clarify precisely what they meant by their use of the word ‘lost’...

To be continued...

Upcoming Verses:

In between.

Resurgence.

Vive la Révolution~!

#(( ;; Full Backstory ;; ))#;; ~ About ;; Valere #;; ~ About ;; Laurent

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genericpseudonyms · 7 years ago

Text

memento mori - 3.6.2018

I remember sitting in the living room. I was four or five, staring at the windup clock on the wall. The pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth. I did this for hours. My father walked past, and for once, he noticed me.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m thinking Papa.”

That made him laugh. “What do you have to think about?”

At that age, you don’t have the words to describe thoughts or feelings beyond happy, angry, scared, or sad. So I shrugged and he lost interest.

I still stare at clocks sometimes. Mostly when I’m trapped somewhere, waiting for something. I retreat inside myself and watch as the second hand ticks and ticks and ticks until it’s back where it started.

It’s a bad day to walk in a miniskirt. The winds are fierce and it’s sleeting. I’ve been so eager to declare winter over, I’m only wearing my thin leather jacket. Still, I have a perverse love of walking through storms. I like the way the wind whips through my hair and the rain soaks through my skin. At the stoplights, I like to close my eyes and feel Mother Nature remind me that I am mere flesh and blood.

I’m sinking into one of my trances. This happens if you leave me alone with my thoughts too long. I’m supposed to meet H at Bluestockings on Allen St. A sensible person might’ve rescheduled. We are not sensible women.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. H says she’s on her way, but I am already there. Five minutes past our agreed meeting time, but we are not punctual women either.

‘Happy browsing!’ her text reads. I’m not mad in the slightest—there’s no place I feel more at home than in a bookstore. I try not to believe in fate, but I do believe the universe will find ways to put the right books in your hands when you need them.

I am wet and dripping from the storm. At some point, I slipped on the curb and landed myself in a freezing puddle. But at least my hands are dry. Frozen, but dry. I walk down the aisles and let my fingers run across the spines. I know I shouldn’t buy anything—my to-read pile is enormous and I haven’t been able to focus on any novels for over a month. Books have always been my truest and oldest friends, so it’s been painful.

My hands stop at the Trauma and Violence shelf. Bluestockings is a radical feminist queer bookstore, so the shelves are stocked with titles I’ve never seen before. Usually I stick to science fiction, fantasy, or memoirs, with a smattering of magical realism and lit-rah-cha. But in this instance, my hands stop at Trauma and Recovery by Judith Herman, MD. I flip through the pages and end up at Chapter Five: Child Abuse.

I read, and it feels like someone has drawn a map of my mind.

“Abused children discover at some point that the feeling [of abandonment] can most effectively be terminated by a major jolt to the body. The most dramatic method of achieving this result is through the deliberate infliction of injury.”

I close the book, and buy a cup of tea.

I sit down, and start from the beginning.

H shows up forty-five minutes late. By then I have read the history of PTSD and how it manifests in women who have been raped.

It is both validating and condemning. Yes, I think to myself. I am profoundly broken. I will never be unbroken. I wonder if I should buy a warning label and paste it onto my forehead.

But it’s easier to push those thoughts away now that H is here. I emerge from the well of my feelings and my shoulders are lighter. We chat about things. Some light, but others real. We talk about her depression and how confusing my bisexuality can be sometimes. About how hard it is to live with narcissistic parents and how to erect boundaries. We discuss the patriarchy and then we get on the topic of tattoos.

“It was in college,” she says. “Someone asked me, ‘So H, when are you gonna get inked?’ And that’s when I said never because I hated it was expected of me.”

We are the same in that way. I’ve been told what to do my whole life that nowadays I often do the opposite of what I should out of spite. My therapist says it’s borne from my need to define things on my own terms. I just think I love to make things difficult for myself.

“I’ve always wanted one,” I say. “The only thing stopping me is the look on my mom’s face. I’m still struggling to give myself permission to do the things I want.”

“Do it,” she says. “You absolutely need to do it.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know. I already found an artist and have a concept.”

And there. I’ve done it. I’ve opened Pandora’s box.

“Oh? Tell me.”

So I do. I tell her about the image I have in mind. I explain how I want it to be a reminder of how I once almost killed myself. How I don’t want to ever get to that point again. She stays silent throughout and anxiety floods my veins. Suicide is one of those things people would rather not talk about. It’s always a tragedy when it happens, but it happens because we do not talk about it. We can reblog to save a life with suicide hotline numbers, but it’s not something we acknowledge affecting people in our actual lives. We don’t bare souls outside art, and art is up for interpretation.

I motion to the scars on my left hand. The one that has no less than six scars from a serrated knife.

“For years this reminded me that I don’t want to die. Not really. I was so ashamed when I saw how my sink was just full of my own blood. I stitched myself up, didn’t even go to the hospital. I could see the tendons in my hand and everything.”

I am waiting for her face to change. It happens, more often than I’d like. You invite people into your conquered darkness and it’s too much. They nod understandingly, and then gradually leave your life. It sucks. It doesn’t hurt any less each time it happens. It’d be easier not to say anything, but I believe in honesty.

H is a dear friend, and I want her to know. I want to believe in people and I want to give them a chance.

Her face doesn’t change at all. Her eyes are fixed on mine and inside, my heart beats a sigh of relief.

“Recovery is hard,” I say. “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning and these scars don’t really work as a reminder anymore. So I want that tattoo to remind me that eventually, I have to die anyway. Memento mori and all that. I might as well make the most of my life before then.”

“I think you deserve that,” she says. She goes on to tell me about the time she wanted to die too. And I breathe.

It’s easy to forget that you are not alone.

My best friend says her greatest fear is that she’ll come home one day to my dead body. My heart sinks because I know exactly what she means. I’ve just told her that weeks ago, when she was in the shower and I was feeling low, I took the paring knife and traced my old scars. I pressed the blade to my hand. Hard enough to sting, soft enough so it wouldn’t break skin. I did it until the fog in my head cleared—until I could remember who I was and why I didn’t want this at all. Then I put it back, went to bed, and promptly decided to forget it ever happened.

The only way to survive a totalitarian, neglectful, abusive childhood is you learn to show people exactly what they want to see. She knows me well enough to know if everyone pressures me to be better, I will pretend I am better. Because that’s how it’s always had to be.

She knows if I want to kill myself, if I really really want to kill myself, no one can stop me.

“You owe me a few more decades,” she says one night. “Don’t make me go to therapy for the rest of my life.”

She’s right. She would be the one I choose to find me. For over half of my short life, she’s been my one constant. There’s no one I would trust more with that gruesome task.

But I’m not so far gone to do that to her. Still. I resent that people try to convince me I ought to live to spare them grief. That my memory would haunt them forever.

I don’t believe that’s true. Everyone is forgettable. I have always stepped lightly on this Earth—the wreckage I leave behind would be minimal.

Human hearts are resilient. Whatever scars I leave, time will inevitably heal.

It makes me think about a passage from my favorite book, Cloud Atlas. There’s a bisexual composer who puts a bullet through his head when he finishes his life’s work. Suicide, he says, isn’t cowardly at all. It requires great strength of mind. It’s not selfish, he insists. What’s selfish is asking someone to endure an unbearable existence simply because you don’t want to deal with the aftermath.

I don’t agree with the passage, per se. But I understand it.

“If I was going to do it, I wouldn’t have told you any of this,” I reassure her. "I’m telling you because I want to live. Desperately so. I’m just not always sure I’m strong enough to make it.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn,” she says. Her eyes are watery. “I’m counting on that to keep you alive.”

We sit in silence. I think we both want to believe it because the alternative is too morbid to contemplate.

“You know,” she says, “You don’t always have to be strong.”

“Yes I do,” I say.

The way I see it, I have two choices. I either keep fighting, or I end it now and give the people I care about more time to forget me.

I’m sitting alone in my room on a Sunday morning. My dog is sleeping beside me, her fur is silky soft and she whines when I scratch her behind the ribs. She’d miss me I think, but I know she’d be taken care of.

If I were inclined, I could do it now. I could write out my note and swallow all my pills in one go. Or I could stick my head in the oven. Very Sylvia Plath. Or I could slit my wrists and go for a soak in my freshly scrubbed tub. I could jump into an oncoming train—I’ve seen it happen before in Tokyo. I was in the car when a man jumped. The impact threw me off my feet and when I looked up, his blood was splattered all over the windows. The smell isn’t anything I’ll ever forget.

My door is open and I can see the knives in the kitchen from my bed. I know I am fully capable of doing all those things. But I won’t. Not today. Hopefully, not ever.

I have the words my four or five-year-old self didn’t. Time moves in circles. The same people come in and out of your life. The same feelings leave and return, over and over again. Life is paradoxically too short and too long all at once. Nothing lasts forever, and yet if you wait long enough, the things you lost will return. One day I will die—it’s just a matter of whether or not I have a hand in it.

Soon, I’ll pop my headphones in and go out for a long, long, long walk. I’ve never been to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens and it might be nice to wander and breathe in all that life.

After all, the world is wide, and I have only seen a fraction of it.

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: abuse #my writing #prose #writers on tumblr #excerpts from a book I'll never write #memoir #diary #thank queue

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cblgblog · 7 years ago

Note

Hey! I kind of have a prompt for a Carol fanfic...It's probably stupid. But here it is! Carol finds out that Therese deals with self-harm and tries to find a way to help her/talk about it. I was hoping that you might want to use that but I guess you won't...Would you? (See what I did there? 😊😊😊)

Nothing too graphic here, more about the aftermath than the act itself, but obvious trigger warnings apply. I’ve tried my best to be sensitive to the material.

Carol wasn’t supposed to know.

They weren’t supposed to keep secrets andTherese could tell Carol anything, of course she could.

Carol wasn’t supposed to know about this.

“Therese?”

That was why. That confused, worried tone,that edge of fear.

She’d covered up the cut as best shecould, wore long sleeves. But Rindy was there for the weekend, grabbed her armwhile they were playing and Therese had cried out before she could catchherself. And Carol had come–of course she had, she couldn’t just leave italone even though Therese said over and over that she was fine—and she’d seen.Rindy had too and Rindy gasped and offered to kiss it better like Mommy did forher.

Therese said it was an accident. One ofthem believed her.

“Therese? Please, darling.”

Carol’s voice broke on the last word.Therese never wanted that, to be the person who did that. She was the brokenone and now Carol would know and Carol would leave. Or, ask her to leave,really, it was Carol’s name on the apartment even though Carol always said itwas theirs. But Carol wouldn’t want anything to be theirs anymore, Carolwouldn’t want to be hers, Carol wouldn’t—

“Angel? Therese, breathe. Just breathe,honey, slow. Please, Therese.”

Therese hadn’t realized she wasn’t untilCarol said something, put a hand on her chest. Her breath was too fast.Everything was too fast when she got like this, her breathing, her thoughts.The pain slowed it. The blood was nice and slow when it dripped down her arm.How could she ever tell Carol that without sounding like the crazy person shewas?

“Shh, it’s okay. Therese? It’s just us,alright? Just us. We’ll work it out, okay? We’ll take care of it, angel, justbreathe.”

Just them. Carol called Abby and Abby hadcome and taken Rindy somewhere, so there would be no interruptions, so Carolcould find out about that slash on her arm. But Carol couldn’t fix it, kiss itbetter. Carol reached out and put a cool hand on the back of Therese’s neck.They were on their bed, in their room, where everything was supposed to besafe. Therese had brought her past, her sickness in to hurt them.

“My mother died,” she said, long minutesafter Carol had first sat her down and asked why, in barely a whisper, askedwhat she was thinking.

Carol’s hand at her neck tightenedconvulsively. Her other hand had been rubbing circles over Therese’s heart, butstopped.

“Oh God. Therese…”

“That’s not why,” Therese said, rougherthan she meant. “Not only why, it’s not. She’s not.”

Her mother barely mattered, hadn’t in solong. Therese tried to explain it, how she was stressed anyway, how they wereyelling at her at work, putting too much on her but she could never say no, orthey’d never give her any responsibility again. She was trying so hard to dowell but failing. Like when her mother taught her piano as a child and wouldactually look pleased, proud, until Therese’s small fingers fumbled the keys.But Therese didn’t tell Carol about the piano and her mother. Carol would thinkit mattered then.

Her mother was a pianist. Had been one. Abetter one than Therese remembered, or she’d gotten better over the years. Itsaid so in the obituary, listed her mother’s accomplishments, her family.

Survived by her husband and two children.Therese wasn’t listed.

But that wasn’t why she’d cut, Theresetried to explain. It had more to do with work. The late Mrs. Nicolas Strullydidn’t have the power to hurt Therese like that, or make her hurt herself.

She told Carol about the girl at theschool who’d taught her. When Therese first saw her cutting, she’d beendisgusted and terrified. And then things would happen. Friends Therese made atschool would leave, just as Sister Alicia had. And Therese would be left withjust her thoughts and no one like Carol to ask what she was thinking, force herto put it into words. It built and built and sometimes there was only one wayTherese knew to release the pressure.

It was a sin, she was sure. The school wassemi-religious and Therese’s old Bible had been woefully neglected, but she wassure it was a sin, that Sister Alicia would look at her with suchdisappointment if she knew.

Her mother wasn’t around to do thatanymore.

Just Carol, really, and Therese couldn’tbear to look at Carol now.

“I’m sorry,” Therese said.

“What for?”

“For being…I’m sick, I’m a freak.” That’swhat they all called the other girl, those who knew what she did to her arms.Therese didn’t participate, didn’t contradict, either. Therese was more carefulabout where and how she cut.

“You’re not…”

Carol’s voice was sharp. Therese stared ather lap and cried, heard Carol breathe deeply.

“Therese, would you look at me?”

Carol put a hand on her cheek and rubbedsoftly, but Therese shook her head. She wouldn’t, this time, doubted she evencould.

“You are not a freak,” Carol said anyway.“You won’t say that again.”

“But you’re scared of me.”

“No. Never.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m…”

She heard Carol breathe again.

“I’m scared for you, Therese, there’s a difference.”

“Don’t be scared. Please.”

“I’m always scared when you hurt.”

Therese made herself look up, to Carol’seyes. “It makes me feel better,” she said, still crying.

“How?”

The word was pained and baffled but maybe,possibly, Carol didn’t hate her. Therese tried to explain it again, how theblood was disgusting and calming, how it felt like the things in her head thatthreatened to tear her apart were escaping through her skin, a tiny hole torelieve the pressure. How the physical pain numbed the rest, at least for atime.

Carol asked hesitantly if it was likedrinking was for her, and Therese supposed it was. Carol numbed herself withryes when she was depressed, until that stopped working and the drinks onlymade her feel worse. That was how it was with the cuts, shame and painafterward, having to cover what she’d done.

Carol asked her if she’d ever trieddrinking instead, and Therese reminded her that alcohol affected themdifferently.

“It makes me sick the next morning,” sheadded. “I don’t like being sick after.”

She could hear it, practically, Carolasking how scars and bleeding were better. Carol did not ask though. Her actualquestion was worse.

“Has it happened here, in our house?”

“No,” Therese said, too quickly, thenclosed her eyes. “Not, before today I mean.”

“Oh baby…”

“I don’t do it often, I never have.”

When she was older, she found her pictures,found that things were slightly less overwhelming when seen through a cameralens. She could find other things, other moments to capture, and that usuallykept the pressure at bay.

Usually.

The blade and the blood were an oldresponse, a stupid, childish response from someone who hadn’t learned better.

Therese thought suddenly of the time she’dupset a plate at her mother’s friend’s home, how quickly her mother’s hand hadflown out and struck her face.

She thought of sitting at her mother’spiano bench, in her lap, her mother’s hands covering hers on the keys, guidingthem. How her mother had laughed in her ear and kissed her head as they played.

“I’m sorry,” Therese said, gasped really.

“Shh, no, no, Therese. I’m sorry aboutyour mother.”

“Please don’t. I don’t want to talk about…askme something else, please.”

Carol didn’t right away, it took a fewseconds. “Not often, you said?”

“Not here, not with you,” Therese repliedbecause she knew what Carol wasn’t asking, that Carol blamed herself formissing this.

“What about after Waterloo, what aboutthen?”

Therese ducked her head and said nothing.

“God.” There were tears in Carol’s voice. “I’mso sorry. Angel, I’m so—”

“Carol,” Therese made herself look upagain, framed Carol’s face in her hands. Such a beautiful face, even if shebarely saw it through the tears. “It’s not your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I—”

“It was my choice. You didn’t make me doanything. I wasn’t, I wasn’t strong and I didn’t…but it’s not your fault.”Therese’s voice caught on a sob, she couldn’t breathe. “I wanted to be strong foryou. I wanted you to think I was.”

She’d come to the Ritz and Carol hadlooked at her with such pride, said she’d blossomed. Therese let her believethe lie.

Carol put her hands on Therese’s face.They were both framing the other.

“You are strong. You’ve always beenstrong, this doesn’t change a thing.”

“I’m not. I’m—”

“The strongest, most beautiful, mostbreathtakingly amazing woman I know. Hurting doesn’t make you weak.”

Therese tried to protest, sobbed instead.

Carol took her arm, very gently, placed akiss near the angry, red mark without hurting it.

Therese wept then, remembering Rindy’swords. She wished it was that simple, that Carol’s kiss could magically fixeverything, fix her.

Carol drew Therese into her arms, rockedthe two of them back and forth. “I love you. I love you, angel, so much.”

“Don’t go,” Therese cried, though she’dtried not to.

“Never. Never, Therese. I’m right here. I’mright here, angel, I love you, so much.”

Therese clung, sobbed against Carol. Thewords weren’t a fix, weren’t magic, but they were enough. For now, for the nextlittle while, they were enough.

#Carol #Carol x therese #belivaird #prompt #self harm tw #cutting tw #Anonymous #Carol fic

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d0gdaze · 7 years ago

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Also on AO3

Chapters: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . (ongoing)

Reddie / Stenbrough

Word Count: 3603

Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is set up on a date with a friend of a friend, and this Tozier guy is a hot mess. || Stan has feelings. Bill is confused. Long and angsty and may or may not contain a roadtrip. AU - no IT. Characters are 17/18. Set in early nineties. More film based but contains elements from the miniseries and the book.

Eddie Kaspbrak had made it one entire week without having a breakdown, and he was pretty damn proud of himself.

If he was honest he thought it would have been maybe three days tops before he came to his senses and made Richie take him back home, but it had been a week. Seven whole days of driving in that god awful hunk of metal, showering at truck stops, and eating gas station junk food. Richie had a duffel bag of clothes stuffed behind the back seat that they cycled through, all of Richie's clothes were a couple sizes too big on Eddie and very unlike his usual attire, all graphic t-shirts and denim jeans, but he found himself liking how he looked in them. (The underwear situation was... interesting, to say the least). Or maybe it was just how Richie looked at him when he put them on, he couldn't tell. Eddie would always fall asleep with the seat reclined to the static chords of the radio and Richie's voice and he would wake up to a bright sunrise and a hot cup of coffee (with milk and sugar, this time). He never saw Richie sleep, but he didn't think to ever question him about it. He didn't think to question him about a lot of things, like why he was living off a slowly depleting wad of cash in a plastic bag hidden in the glovebox, or if he actually knew where the hell they were at any point in time. He didn't think to ask about anything, because it had been the best week of his life.

Never in the seventeen years and ten months he had been alive had he felt so, well, alive. And maybe that was due to the adrenaline he got from doing something this rebellious, maybe it was the fact that his mother wasn't lecturing him about everything for once in his goddamn life, maybe his brain was going into overdrive from the nearly all-sugar diet he had been forced to switch to, and maybe it was simply the fresh country air in his lungs when the windows were rolled down, but god, he felt amazing. And Richie, wow, Richie.

Spending an entire week with someone you haven't known for very long, completely alone together, essentially trapped in a confined space, can really only go one of two ways. You will either start to despise them with every inch of your being, and the sound of their voice will irritate you to no end, and after it's over you won't be able to tolerate them ever again. Or, if it goes the other way, you'll start to fall in love with them.

And for Eddie, it was most definitely, unrelentingly, embarrassingly, the latter.

He kept catching himself staring, all starry-eyed and dreamy, at his dark-haired driver, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, taking in the boys features both sharp and subtle, entranced by the imperfections in his skin and the cracks in his lips and the curls in his hair (he felt strange when he concentrated on his hair too long, as if it was linked to a hazy drunken memory that he couldn't quite remember no matter how hard he tried), and everything he saw he became infatuated with. Richie's free hand would often end up resting on Eddie's thigh or intertwined with his own over the centre console, and he would melt under the contact every time. And they talked about everything, both understanding there wasn't many boundaries at this point, as far as conversation went. Eddie learnt that Richie had been in an amateur rock band in high school where he played guitar and sang, fittingly called Trashmouth, that he always got at least a minor role in the school plays, and that got mostly straight A's, though his ADHD and incessant need to run his mouth gave his teachers a run for their money, and that his parents were the absolute worst and didn't much care for him at all, so he up and ran away in the middle of the night leaving nothing more than a note on the fridge. In return, Eddie told Richie about his mother and her tendency to be extremely overbearing, though to be fair it had died down significantly in the last couple of years due to her discovery of the wonders sleeping pills can do, and how he used to play baseball with Bill, and his mild obsession- er, crush on Christian Slater, and how a girl in a pharmacy had once told him that his asthma medication was not exactly real.

“She was the pharmacist's daughter, and she said that it was all fake. A gazebo, I think she said.”

“Wait, what did she say?”

“I know, right! All fake. I didn't know whether to believe her or not because she was kind of a bitch, but-”

“Gazebo.”

“...That's what I said, yes.”

“Do you by any chance mean placebo, babe?”

“I- what?”

“Placebo, like fake medication that tricks your brain into thinking it's real. A gazebo's like a tent- podium kinda thing... Eds?”

“I've been lied to.”

And when they weren't talking, Richie was singing, and Eddie appreciated this very much. A particular song would come on and Richie would stop dead in the middle of a sentence to turn up the volume and belt out the lyrics. Sometimes Eddie would sing along, if he happened to know it, but most of the time he would just put his feet up on the dashboard and close his eyes, listening contently. His voice suited him well, a little raspy and rough but still smooth and steady, it sounded like heaven to Eddie. But then again, everything about Richie Tozier seemed like heaven to Eddie.

Richie Tozier had made it one week without having a breakdown, but he felt he wasn't going to last much longer.

It took everything in him to keep it together. The last thing he wanted to do was crack in front of Eddie, because geez, Eddie was something special, and he didn't want to mess this up.

He was so anxious that he had barely slept at all, only pulling over way past midnight when his eyelids felt like they were about to collapse, and then it would only be an hour or so before he woke up and started driving again, always before sunrise, always while Eddie was still asleep. He didn't want Eddie to know how little he was sleeping, worried it would cause him to panic and feel unsafe that he was being driven by someone so sleep-deprived, so he put an extra shot of espresso in his coffee and powered through. And when he felt like he was too on edge he sang to calm himself down, or he got Eddie talking and he listened to stories and anecdotes that he would recite about his friends during the years he had been gone. This helped to distract him temporarily from his intrusive thoughts but it didn't stop them, they were still there, mocking and so loud that sometime's he wanted to scream.

But he couldn't break down. Not while he wasn't alone.

Beverly's voice was a regular visitor amongst those thoughts, repeating her last words to him over and over again like a broken record, don't do anything stupid, no fucking excuses, don't fuck this up, i'll never forgive you for it.

The words, the pressure they put him under that left him feeling nauseous and dizzy, it was driving him crazy. Because he knew he was about to do something fucking stupid.

Eddie woke up in the early hours of the morning, the eight morning since he had left home, and instantly knew something was up.

They first thing he noticed were the streetlights, as he blinked his eyes open and allowed his vision to adjust. There hadn't been streetlights on the highway. He turned his head slightly, only seeing the rooftops from his half-laying position. He sat up slowly, stretching his arms out in front of him. Now he could see the houses under the roofs, most of them looking pretty run down and old fashioned, a paint chipping off wooden tilings and torn-up chain link fences kind of deal.

He adjusted his seat forward as he looked out the window, nose crinkled in confusion.

“Rich, why are we off the highway?” he yawned, finally looking over at the boy, who he noticed looked especially rough today though he didn't mention it.

“Well good morning to you too, babe,” Richie jeered, “and we're just making a short pit stop, then we'll get back to it.”

“Pit stop?” Eddie repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Mhm. Just up here, actually.”

The truck slowed to a stop in front of a particularly run down house. Eddie could see beer bottles scattered across the lawn that was more weeds than grass and a torn up fly-screen door. Richie pulled on the handbrake and switched off the ignition.

“Richie, where are we?” Eddie asked cautiously, pretty sure he already knew the answer. Richie took a sharp intake of air and undid his seatbelt, avoiding Eddie's question as he reached for the door handle. Eddie grabbed his shirt sleeve.

“Rich, don't ignore me.” His voice was low and stern, and Richie slumped back against the seat, turning to face him.

“We're at my- we're at my parents house. I'm just- I gotta go get a few things,” Richie tried to make it sound casual but his his voice was unsteady and he could feel his hands start to shake. “Important things. Ten minutes, in and out. That's all.”

Eddie didn't release his grip from Richie's shoulder. Richie swallowed hard.

“I don't know if you should,” Eddie's eyes darted between Richie and the house, “It doesn't feel safe. What if your parents-”

“C'mon Eds,” Richie took Eddie's hand off his shoulder to hold in his own, “they're probably passed out, they might not even be home. Anyways, I'm used to sneaking around in there,” he laughed at the last part but he could see Eddie wince. He moved his free hand to Eddie's cheek and rubbed a circle with his thumb. “Just stay here. I'll be quick, okay?”

He opened the door and jumped out before Eddie could stop him and started down the driveway of the house.

“Fuck,” Eddie muttered, fumbling to get his seatbelt unclipped. He clambered out onto the pavement just as Richie stepped into the threshold.

The inside of the house was arguably in worse shape than the outside. The faded floral wallpaper was peeling in several places and chipped in many others. Every surface was disorganised and dusty, more empty bottles making up most of the clutter. The carpet was matted and covered in various sizes and colours of stains.

The television was on in the living room, emitting a dull, slightly static drone, and setting flickering shadows on the walls. Richie stepped towards the archway ever so slowly, his breathing so heavy he had to clasp a hand over his mouth. He poked his head around the wall, to see a figure sat up in the recliner, their head rolled back against the top of the chair, letting out a choked snore. He exhaled in relief and started to walk down the hallway when he felt a tap on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Richie, this is dumb, let's go,” Eddie hissed under his breath, and Richie spun around, hands clutched to his chest. “Jesus fucking Christ, Eds, you gave me a heart attack,” he closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing for a moment. “I told you to stay in the truck.”

Eddie's eyes flicked over to the armchair and his breath hitched in his throat. Richie watched the colour fade from his face and grabbed his shoulders.

“We shouldn't be doing this Rich,” he squeaked, instinctively grasping for his inhaler- which was still in the truck, “we really shouldn't be doing this.”

“He's asleep, he's asleep, he's not gonna wake up,” Richie's voice was hushed and pleading, moving one hand to Eddie's chin and forcing him to look at him, “Eddie, go back to the truck. Please.”

Eddie shook his head, feeling Richie's hand tremble against his skin. Richie exhaled sharply out of his nose and lead Eddie down the hallway.

The room was different to the rest of the house, in the sense that it actually felt inhabited. The walls were covered in band posters and movie posters of all sorts. The bed was pushed against the far wall, covers askew on the mattress. The wooden headboard had been carved into, presumably with a pocket knife, different names and initials and whatnot. There wasn't really much in the way of material possessions, spare an obviously well-loved acoustic guitar sat on a stand in a corner and a few photo frames and aerosol deodorant cans on the dresser. It was small and comfortable and it smelled like Richie, and Eddie found himself calming down.

Richie knelt down next to the bed and pulled out a small suitcase, sliding it towards Eddie and gesturing towards the dresser.

“Just chuck as much as you can fit in there,” he said, and Eddie did as he was told, unzipping the suitcase and pulling open the top drawer, fighting an urge to fold the clothes as he threw them in. Richie laid down on his stomach and tried reaching for something under the bed, stretching one arm out with a muffled groan. He retracted his arm in a huff when he couldn't reach whatever he was looking for and proceeded to manoeuvre the top half of his body under the bed frame. Eddie had nearly cleared the top drawer and had an arrangement of clothing in and around the suitcase (Richie obviously did not care for sorting his clothes and everything was just thrown in together), when his eyes caught something much more vibrant than what Eddie had expected. He held the shirt up in front of him by the collar, stifling a laugh. It was bright orange and patterned with yellow silhouetted palm trees. He spun around, holding the shirt against his chest. Richie emerged from under the bed with an 'aha!', clutching a shoebox. His hair was all dishevelled and the smile fell from his face when he saw Eddie.

“That's not mine,” he sputtered as Eddie bit back a smile.

“Sure it's not,” he teased, “should I pack it anyway? Are you planning on attending a luau in the near future?”

“Shut up,” Richie stood up from the floor and ripped the shirt from his hands, rubbing the fabric between his fingers for a moment before dropping it onto the pile of clothes that had accumulated on the floor. Eddie stepped over and picked up the shoebox that Richie had pulled out.

“I'll save you the shock, it's all weed.”

Eddie nearly snapped his neck when his head shot up, and Richie smirked as his face went white.

“Drugs,” he choked out, leaving his mouth hanging open.

“No babe, weeds from the garden. Yes it's drugs,” he walked over and took the box off Eddie, who snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips into a line, “and cigarettes. And cash. Important shit.”

Eddie went back to the suitcase, shoving everything in and zipping it shut, but not without a struggle, and Richie grabbed his guitar by the neck and they both headed to leave. They quietly snuck back towards the front door, tiptoeing past the living room where the television was still humming away. They threw everything in the back seat and climbed into the front. Richie smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Shit, forgot something,” he mumbled, and hopped back out before Eddie could protest, “i'll be two seconds.” He disappeared back into the house, and Eddie sat nervously, fingertips fidgeting in his lap.

Richie crept back to his room and across to his dresser. There were three photo frames, two were of him, Bev, Bill, and Stan back when they were kids, and one of just him and Bev. He smiled to himself, fingers tracing over their faces, before he picked them up in a stack.

“You got a lot of nerve in you, boy.”

Richie felt his throat closed up instantly as he turned around. His father stood in the doorway, half-leaning against the wall, eyes glazed over and drunkenly heavy, his stare burning into Richie's skin. He was wearing jeans and a shirt that may have once been white but definitely wasn't anymore, and he was all skin and bones under his clothes. His face was hollow and sunken and creased, planted with a permanent sneer displaying crooked yellowing teeth, and his hair was dark and thin, what was still there, that is.

“Hiya Pops,” Richie forced a sickly grin, his voice course and uneven, “thought I'd drop back in to see ya.”

Wentworth Tozier took an unsteady step forward, raising one accusatory bony finger towards his son. Richie automatically shifted into a fighting stance, his hands hovering in front of him, prepared to make a move if he had to, and he could smell the rotten beer coming from the man's mouth even from across the room.

“I told you, if you leave, then you don't come back,” he slurred, his voice low and gravelly, and Richie thought he would prefer if he was shouting. Shouting was always just shouting. It was when his voice was lowered that led to-

“And now you come back, and you steal from me,” Richie felt himself shrinking with every word, despite being taller than his father, he felt like he was about to be crushed, “and you think I won't notice.”

He took another unbalanced step forward and Richie's eyes went to the doorway, mentally planning out his route so he could make a run for it. The stench intensified as the source drew closer, and he felt that he might start gagging.

“You know I'd love to stay, dad, but I should probably get going now,” he tried to joke but his mouth was uncomfortably dry and it came out as a ragged whisper.

“Don't be a fucking smartass, Rich,” he raised a calloused hand above his head and Richie flinched, lifting his arms up to cover his face, still clutching the photo frames so hard that they were making indents in his palms. Wentworth grinned and snickered. “Fucking coward. Always have been.”

Richie took the opportunity to escape, using all the strength he could to shove past, and bolted to the front door. He practically leapt off the porch, struggling to keep his footing, and stumbled hurriedly to the truck, not looking back until he had his hand on the driver side door handle. He expected his father to appear in the threshold, fuming and shooting daggers with his eyes.

But he didn't.

The house remained completely void of movement, and he stood, nearly panting, the lenses of his glasses fogging up due to tears he wasn't aware he was crying.

Eddie watched from the passenger seat, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He chose to stay quiet.

Richie stared into the house, waiting, just waiting for something. He stood there, trembling but otherwise frozen, for what felt like hours.

Richie Tozier had made it one week without having a breakdown.

“FUCK YOU,” he shouted, his voice cracked and dry and strained and terrified, “FUCK. YOU.”

He collapsed on the pavement, his legs simply too weak to hold him up any longer. He dropped the frames on the ground and flung his glasses off his face, sobbing and wailing into his hands, pulling his hair as he did, hard enough to shoot pain all over his scalp. Eddie got out and rushed over to the sidewalk, and Richie grabbed onto his shirt as soon as he knelt down close enough, pulling him forward and burying his face in Eddie's chest. Eddie wrapped his arms tight around his shoulders, stroking Richie's hair, feeling the sobs wracking through his body, keeping his eyes glued on the doorway.

“I'm so fucking sorry,” Richie whimpered through a shuddered breath, “I shouldn't have brought you here, I shouldn't have- FUCK-I-

“Shh, you're okay, babe, it's okay,” tears were brimming in his own eyes and he felt utterly useless.

“I'm a fuckup,” Eddie can feel Richie's tears soaking through his shirt and onto his skin, “I'm so stupid, fuck. I'm so fucking sorry.”

Eddie didn't say anything, just pressed his face into the top of Richie's head and pulled him tighter.

Richie eventually released his death grip on Eddie's shirt collar, and picked himself up. Eddie went to get his glasses, which had landed about three feet away, and the photo frames, while Richie achingly dragged himself up into the drivers seat.

“Do you want me to drive for a while?” Eddie asked before he could close the door.

“You can drive?” Richie wiped his nose with his sleeve, eyes still red and puffy, “You've just been using me as a taxi service all this time, huh? Not cool babe,” he jokes, and flashes a crooked smile. “Do you want me to or not?” Eddie laughs, and Richie nods before hopping out and moving to the passenger side.

Eddie had to readjust the seat and mirrors and it took a few tries before the engine started but soon they were on the road again.

#writing #it 2017 #it 2017 fanfiction #it 2017 fanfic #reddie #reddie fanfiction #stenbrough #stenbrough fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #stan uris #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #it movie #it fanfiction

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monsterinamusicbox · 4 years ago

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You should already know this from the guidelines but it’s important to repeat it: I’m writing from Jemma’s pov, and Jemma is NOT okay. So how she reads the world is a mix of things that actually happened and how her already struggling mind perceived them, a result of the way they all piled up together: self-hatred, guilt, some actual hostility from the others and misunderstandings. Which leads to changes because this is the AU where she got bitter.

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NAME: Jemma Anne Simmons BIRTH DATE: September 11, 1987 ETHNICITY: Jewish GENDER: cis female ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION: demi-hetero-romantic (requires a very strong bond, she has trouble reading her own feelings and distinguishing romantic love from platonic) heterosexual. RELIGION: atheist SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, British and American Sign Languages, Italian, some Spanish, Latin. (oddly good with accents) RELATIONSHIPS: many hook ups, two failed attempts to see men for more than a couple of times (with Milton it lasted two months, that's her longest relationship). At first neglected by her mother and cared for by her father, once her potential was more clear Jemma was emotionally abused and pushed to her limits by the woman while her father was the one neglecting her due to his work; that's when she developed an exaggerated sense of responsibility/guilt. She raised her little sister, while her older brother hated her due to jealously, and she had a grandmother until 12 and the house staff try to take care of her as much as possible. INTELLIGENCE: canonically a super genius, able to have 2 PHDs when sixteen, to remember engineering-related codes years later even if she’s not an actual engineer, perform surgery and with an incredible memory especially when feelings are involved.

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Jemma was taught by her father, as a child, to put all her troubles away, inside her music box, and she kept doing so as she grew up. All the traumas, all the anger she didn’t feel she had the right to let out, all the pain, got repressed because there were more important things to think about, because her friends were the ones'really suffering' and not her, and simply because she never learned how to process and deal with it. But the system stopped working and Jemma started feeling like a villain while simultaneously wanting to fight against the people who didn’t help her and, worse, misjudged her and the kind of dangerous person she could be. The more she uses questionable methods and is aggressive to people, the more she convinces herself she’s lost. And the more she convinces herself she’s lost, the more she makes herself do questionable things. She has conflicting feelings about Fitz, she expects Coulson to be against her and is preemptively antagonistic with him, May and Daisy were more or less on her side so she's ready to die for them, Mack and Bobbi were nearly strangers she never got close to but who betrayed her when she already had enough of SHIELD so they are no friends, Hunter is equally a stranger but he never did anything against her or the team so she's not feeling anything special in a good or bad way for him, and she didn't get to meet any new teammate. She doesn't have the healthiest life-style, has mood swings at times, also due to sleep deprivation, and deep down is in desperate need of being told that she's fine the way she is.

So, this is the version of her backstory for who doesn’t need a full recap of the first two seasons of aos. Long but it explains the turns her mind took to get to that darker place, I bolded parts to help you 'skip' the least important bits if you can't read too much at once:

Jemma had PTSD as well as survivor guilt and an already exaggerate sense of guilt in general. Considered herself responsible for Fitz’s brain damage in particular and everything that came with it: for his frustration, when he got angry she took it as a personal failure, she watched him struggle to be better and suffered, she hated when she couldn't finish his sentences but also knew she was slowing down his recovery by doing things for him to keep him from being angry at himself, and felt responsible for not finding a way to make things work. She was falling apart and ran away, undercover, to save him from herself and not for her own health, which instead needed some safe and quiet and not be isolated in enemy territory to avoid getting worse. And after coming back to the base, she finds herself isolated again, and learns that people actually assumed the worst of her, as well as talking about it with the new guys while she was gone. She was already thinking the worst of herself, and finding out that the people who tried to see the good in everyone else believed she’d be capable of abandoning her best friend because he wasn’t 'good enough' was already a bad hit. And not only she couldn’t voice her own reasons and pains because unable to communicate her feelings, but was aware that telling Fitz she had left because his recovery was slower thanks to the pressure he puts on himself to work better with her, and because she made him worse, would make Fitz feel even more guilty and ‘useless’, and do nothing good.

She was mostly alone, once again, even if surrounded by people she knew as opposed to undercover in Hydra, and not a comfortable kind of alone. She overworked and even when repressing her emotions she had to hid to cry often. Skye was facing her own tragedies but did try to show some support and Jemma was thankful for it, but much like May who was equally impartial and close, Jemma didn’t get to see her much anymore; Bobbi was there less than two months before she turned out to be part of another faction, too little time to be nothing but just a friendly acquaintance to Jemma. Her betrayal was still anger-inducing, especially since she brought up Fitz to try to get her out of the locker room, but Jemma wasn’t trusting her with her life before either. The real last straw after all the self-hatred, all the anger she felt for Ward, all the assumptions the others made, the isolation, the inability to fix things with Fitz, and even Trip’s death and watching Raina slaughter her team in Porto Rico with her new powers, was realizing that Fitz had hidden Skye’s powers from her, expecting her to be capable of hurting their friend. It wasn't something she'd hold against Skye, at least not with anger, because she understood Skye was scared out of her mind, but it did make her doubt Skye's trust in her.

Jemma believed she deserved many bad things, she believed she also deserved Fitz’s anger for leaving, for being the cause of his suffering and unable to make it better. But while she’d let anyone berate her over the things she had done, she refused to accept being seen as someone who could hurt one of her best friends, especially because ‘different’. Her concern had always been alien viruses, like the one that had infected her, and Skye’s potential death, not that Skye would be ‘different’. That, and it did start to feel like everyone beside May was closer to Fitz and mostly thought of her as part of the Fitz/Simmons duo.

And that’s what brought the canon divergence, because the music box cracked, and she started feeling all the anger, the need to attack and fight, the need to defend herself, while simultaneously giving up on proving she was worth of their friendship, giving up on trying to be better, to be good, and just start letting out some bitterness, some sarcasm. She started feeling she didn’t have a place in shield anymore, and didn’t get closer to Fitz through gossip and small attempts of reconciliation before and after the attack from the other faction of SHIELD, but kept distance and animosity. She still felt she deserved the anger over being the cause of his brain damage and the suffering after, but nothing else beside that. She was far more aggressive with the other faction of shield, but May voiced her wish to protect her and gave Jemma a bit more will to stay and fight. After all, Skye was still out there and Jemma wasn’t giving up on her either. Upon finding out that Skye’s powers were natural for her, that she was part alien, Jemma was at peace with her change. Later on that day she tried to kill Ward and got Bakshi instead, and even tried to get Ward to shoot her. Fitz, not knowing the details, but with good intentions told her that it was okay if she couldn’t try to kill Ward, he wasn't able to really try kill him even if he wanted to either, it just meant they weren’t like him. And Jemma pointed out that she did try to kill him and was kicking herself for failing, the next bad things Ward did were going to be her responsibility. If anything, Fitz’s comforting words were a reminder that she was, in fact, not at all like Fitz and the rest of the team. At that point, she accepted that she was more than capable of killing and felt nothing about murdering Bakshi. She was different, and if she had stayed in the team it would likely because she could bring that to the table, and dirty her hands so that people like Fitz or Skye wouldn’t have to. Do what was needed, even when technically there were other options. But she didn’t want to stay, because the team, minus May and Skye with their vocal support, and still in Skye’s case with some doubt about Skye’s feelings, felt like a team of strangers now. And she felt she was always going to be the bad guy to them, and worse, the kind of bad guy she actually wasn’t, as opposed to the one she had embraced being.

But just as she meant to leave, she took a curious look at the Monolith and got transported to an alien planet. It was a new kind of hell (and while she had no hold backs, no intention of dating anyone, she wasn't the nicest to Will either so 'getting together' was still sparked by the need for some sort of comfort, only one month before leaving Maveth, and she wasn't in love with himb. But naturally cared enough to want to save him), and when she came back she was surprised to learn that Fitz had fought so hard to rescue her even with the bleak turn their friendship had taken - not so surprised that the others had given up even before finishing to follow all the leads.

At first it was heartwarming, but the disconnection between the two of them, especially with the way she had changed, more to the point, less delicate, too tired to be anything but who she felt, was all too obvious. And the bitterness grew as she realized that the rest of the team seemed to be worrying more about Fitz’s feelings over her relationship with Will and harder personality than about her wellbeing, meaning once again she was seen in terms of how Fitz would be affected by what happened to her. She also expected Fitz to be waiting for his Jemma to come back, the one he fell in love with, and

she was too angry to see things any different, just thinking about wanting to leave a soon as possible and training. But she stayed and fought to get Will back to Earth. Sadly Will had died saving her, as she found out after being tortured by Hydra and watching Fitz almost give his life for her again. And that was all too much, she needed to leave.

Now. And due to her intention of fighting Hydra, she still had her own little reunion with Will/Hive later on.

As soon as Daisy becomes Quake, after leaving SHIELD, Jemma is of course available to have her back if Daisy hasn't been antagonist with her by then. And even if she has, Jemma is likely to try to help her because she understands Daisy's reasons, even if she herself can lose her temper at times and feel frustrated by her former team. She also tried to find them after finding out the base had 'exploded' by the end of season 4, and managed to track down agent Piper eventually, who told her they had been trapped in a virtual reality program, came back, destroyed the bad guy behind it and disappeared again. Jemma knows they can take care of themselves so that was enough to make her walk away.

How and when they meet can change depending on how we plot threads.

Generally speaking, as much as she’s now a vigilante, and she hides behind a mask of 'bad guy trying to do the right thing’, she’s still Jemma Simmons, she still wants to save people, even if it means doing some morally questionable things to do so. May and Skye in particular are family, Fitz is a bittersweet old friend/former friend, and the team can be someone she’s very bitter about. A lot depends on the take rpers have on them. She’ll keep tabs on them and show up even if not thrilled about it to help. Characters from other fandoms can find her vigilanting, training to be even more lethal, using all sort of techs we know to be part of her world to help herself, and being extremely broken and tired of being who she is, but with no idea of where to start changing things, because every time she tries to do good, people suffer or die.

A longer version of her bio, only needed if you want more details about what happened in season 2 of aos and how Jemma took it in this AU, otherwise go ahead and skip it.

season 1

And when she’s out of her element after starting a life of adventure, traveling around the world, and sees people die, is asked to be the medical doctor she doesn’t have the right personality to be, is asked to do things above her abilities or people’s deaths will be on her, watches her new best friend Skye nearly die despite her best attempts to patch her up, is infected by an alien virus and jumps off a plane to die and not take the team down with her and is rescued at the last second, is betrayed by a dear friend who drops her and Fitz in the ocean, where Fitz, her best friend, her other half, confesses is love and then gives her the one last bit oxygen left, almost dying and brought to surface by a Jemma who then learns he suffered of major brain damage over it, she puts everything in the box and keeps trying to help. She’s angry at Ward, homicidally so, and that’s okay because he betrayed them, everyone is.

But everything else is locked up.

season 2

Fitz is in pieces, he’s pushing himself too hard to prove Jemma he’s still good at what he does, but at first he can’t even speak, and Jemma learns very fast that she can’t help him, that everything she does to try to make things better, is making him feel worse. And her heart can’t take this. She’s traumatized, she’s alone in taking care of him because everyone in the team has their duties and they have to rebuild SHIELD, Fitz is frustrated and isn’t healing as fast as he should, possibly because she’s there doing too much for him while simultaneously not bringing him any comfort.

So Jemma leaves, goes undercover in Hydra, something she’s not trained for. Does horrible things, knows she’s helping them hurt people, but is also saving so many by stealing information. And she’s hopefully helping Fitz, whom she’s told is okay.

And then she comes back at the base. She finds out Fitz told people he confessed her love and she bailed for that reason, and maybe that’s not the only version, other seems to have thought, including Fitz himself, that it’s his brain damage that drove her away, the fact that he’s 'useless’ as he puts it. Skye catches her crying and reminds her it’s okay to be angry. May still believes in her. But things with Fitz are fully broken, he felt abandoned and apparently most of the team did too.

And then Skye is mostly gone, facing her own tragedies, Coulson is busy, just like May. Bobbi is new and friendly, but Jemma has problems trusting people. Mack is on Fitz’s side, and Hunter might be too, in a way that paints her as the new, unwanted element. Jemma is a bit jealous and a bit hurt, but also understands it’s all her fault, she hurt Fitz and she has no way to fix this.

Fitz tells her he’s leaving to work with Mack, and then Trip dies. Jemma is alone in Porto Rico while the team is back at the base, dealing with the guilt of not protecting Trip from an alien threat, and watches Raina slaughter her team of scientists and escape, changed by the same alien object that has killed Trip and might have infected Skye. She comes home to check on her, speaks of potential dangers of a virus, of how she should have eradicated alien threats. Doesn’t know Skye was changed too - it would be different with her, of course, she’s a friend, she'sd just want to keep her healthy and safe. But Skye is scared, and Fitz thinks Jemma has changed too much and can’t be trusted, so they agree not to tell her.

When Jemma finds out, when she finds out that the person who knows her so well, and who wanted to believe in Ward until the very end, believed her capable of hurting Skye, her music box cracks. Things truly can’t be fixed between them either, it’s over.

She has so many justifications and reasons for what she’s done and said, but it’s useless as well as impossible to let them out, and the resentment is growing day by day. Jemma wants Skye to know she’s safe with her, but after Skye is gone, to learn how to deal with the changes in her body, soon enough it turns out Bobbi and Mack weren’t really loyal to Coulson and it’s a whole new mess.

Jemma doesn’t start any reconciliation with Fitz, she’s cold and avoids him as much as possible. She still comes up with the plan to protect the toolbox and send it away with Fitz, and after that she’s more actively aggressive against the other SHIELD. May told her she was trying to protect her, and Jemma clings to that, just like she clings to the few friendly interactions she’s still has had with Skye, because everything else just reminds her that she’s different and everyone else can see it too. In the end they are all reunited - Skye is apparently an inhuman, her life is not at risk, and Jemma is relieved and has no more questions about her powers, at least none that are scared for her life - and Jemma tries to kill Ward with a splinter bomb. Fails because Bakshi stopped her and died for it, and tries to push Ward to kill her too. Why not, she failed again and she hates him too much to be scared. Probably sensing her change of mood when she’s back, Fitz, despite their tense relationship, attempts to comfort her reminding her that not being able to push herself to kill Ward is good, he couldn’t do it either, they are not like him. And that, while she recognizes it as the reassurance it is, just reminds Jemma that she’s worlds away from Fitz and people like him. Because she does have it in her to kill. Because she didn’t lose any sleep over murdering Bakshi, her first kill. Because she’s capable of anything to protect her friends, people she wants to keep safe, and out of revenge as well. She tells Fitz she did try to kill Ward, she’s kicking herself she failed. She’s not hiding that part of her, she feels it’s time to accept it, to use it. She gave up on trying to become a better person, it only brings more pain, and she’s now letting all the resentment and the clashing feelings of frustration over unfair treatment and acceptance of her role of bad person come out. She wants to leave, go help people away from the team, go hurt other bad guys like Hydra without having people who look at her like she might kill them next, but her curiosity over the monolith takes over and she’s taken to another planet right before she quits.

While she’s not planning to date Fitz, she’s not exactly the nicest most positive person when on Maveth, and her relationship with Will still doesn’t start until the last month, from her side more of a physical comfort than love; she still cares for him, doesn’t want someone else to die for her. Sadly, once home, while she almost reconnects with Fitz, she has the chance to notice more hurtful things, such as how there were still leads and yet the rest of the team gave up on finding her alive, or how the team is more focused on Fitz’s feelings and reactions over Will and what happened to her than they are about her. She still feels like an outsider, spends her time either trying to open the portal or training even if it’s too soon. She’s then captured by Hydra, tortured, Fitz once again sacrifices himself for her and goes to Maveth; she frees Lash to help herself, finds out he killed innocent inhumans later, then that Will has died to save her, and is officially done with SHIELD. Too many negative feelings and she can tell she’s going to direct them to the team if she doesn’t get out of there.

As much as she’s now a vigilante, and she hides behind a mask of 'bad guy trying to do the right thing’, she’s still Jemma Simmons, she still wants to save people, even if it means doing some morally questionable things to do so. May and Skye in particular are family, Fitz is a bittersweet old friend/former friend, and the team can be someone she’s very bitter about. A lot depends on the take rpers have on them. She’ll keep tabs on them and show up even if not thrilled about it to help. Characters from other fandoms can find her vigilanting, training to be even more lethal, using all sort of techs we know to be part of her world to help herself, and being extremely broken and tired of being who she is, but with no idea of where to start changing things, because every time she tries to do good, people suffer or die.

#about page for mobile #about page

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yourjughead · 7 years ago

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Bruised Beauty

Requested:" if you don't want to write it I 100% understand. Would you mind doing one where Y/N lives in a really rough house and her dad is doing everything wrong you could do as a parent (alcoholic, abusive,drug addicted, ect) and her mom is just trying to get by but one night her dad comes home and gets in a huge and terrible fight with Y/N and she ends up running away to her boyfriend jug to live with him and he helps take care of her after the pain she just went through. Kinda a heavy request so I completely understand if you don't want to do it" Pairings: Jughead x reader Warnings: Swearing, (gambling, alcoholism, drug dealing and drug abuse) mentioned, blood//cuts//bruises mentioned throughout. Medium to full description of abuse do not read between the *** if you will be triggered by such scenes the story should still make sense without it but reader discretion is advised my lovelies. And finally Fluff, you'd need it after this hahahah A/N loved writing this request, really interesting to write and I hope it is what Anony is looking for. I did change it slightly so the mother has left just because I don't think y/n would leave her mother behind in an abusive home, or maybe she would idk. Enjoy Xx REQUESTS OPEN. ------------------------------------------------------- 3rd Person You had always been a fighter, a born fighter, a forced fighter. Your dad, if you could call him that, was an all out alcoholic, drugged gambler, the full nine yards. He even had a stint in drug dealing, a stint that lasted your life time. Originally it had been you and your mother against the world but the world had got to much for her and she fled it, leaving Riverdale and you behind. The beating was particularly savage that night. You didn't go out that weekend, instead treated your wounds the best you could and hoped your friends would believe your lie that you were away. Through all this you lost your self confidence, couldn't see the beauty in yourself but your spirit, although damaged, continued to grow thanks to one person who couldn't see anything but the beauty in you, your boyfriend Jughead. You had neglected to tell him, or anyone for that matter, about your father's bestial behavior. Instead you had elected to wear loose clothing to hide the bruising and cuts that lay beneath on your wilting body and never invite anyone to your “home”. It was mid January, almost a year into your relationship with Juggy, that the dreaded question once again reared its hideous head. “When am I going to meet your parents y/n/n? I mean it's been almost 1 year..kinda” Jughead smiled at you. The two of you were strolling to the bus stop after having Pops with the gang. Poor Juggy you thought, he had never pressured or pushed you into anything thinking it was because you didn't want to and not because your body was mangled beneath it's facade. “Umm I'm not sure Juggy, I'm sorry” “It's okay” he caught both your hands and kissed your forehead. “But soon maybe? Please? It's just I feel like we're sneaking around or something despite the fact everyone knows” you could tell by this that it was really bothering him. You couldn't meet his eye as he searched yours “Finnnnee” he sighed releasing one hand carrying on the short walk. You closed your eyes holding back tears at disappointing the sweetest person in the world. “Is it something wrong with me?” He clearly wasn't going to let it go as ye reached the empty bus stop. “No jughead it's not!” “Then what y/n what?!” His voice began to raise and you became a little unsteady on your feet. You had no reply to him. “Well?!” This time he gestured quickly with his hand outward and you flinched. You flinched badly. “Woah woah Y/N….did...did you think I was going to hit you?” He put his hands on your arms and gently squeezed them, you tried to ignore the pain of him touching your wounds. “I...I...I..” you couldn't speak as the fear that your lie was about to unravel stole your voice. “Y/N?” just as his name left his lips the bus screeched to a stop next to you causing you to jump again. “Um...I gotta go Juggy” you kissed his cheek briefly before his worried eyes watched you step aboard and pull away from the crib. ~~~~ It had been an hour since you left a defeated and confused Jughead. He had texted you multiple times but you didn't reply which spurred him on further. You busied yourself cleaning the entire apartment and making dinner. You had finished your weekend work with Jughead at the diner and now sat on your bed waiting for the storm to blow in. And it did. Your father slammed the door on entry and you heard his heavy footed gait stumble into the kitchen. Great he's in a horrific state you thought. You didn't move a muscle trying to prolong the time without his hands on you. “Y/N!!! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!” he hollered. You rose from your bed shakily and timidly walked into the kitchen, a dinner plate smashing off the wall, narrowly missing your head. ***************Description of abuse*************** “WHAT IS THIS SHIT Y/N!!” he gestured to the pot. “Umm umm umm” he threw another plate coming closer to you this time, bits of porcelain covering you. “DON'T STUTTER. WHAT.IS.THIS” he slurred. “Its...ehem it's bolognese...” “WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME YOU WHORE!” he threw a plate full of the dinner this time hitting you in the stomach. The boiling sauce clung to your skin as you attempted to pull the fabric from your flesh. Your phone buzzed out on the counter with Jugheads name lighting up the screen. Your father picked it up glaring at it. “Jughead?” you hated hearing his name on his lips. Him saying Jugheads name felt wrong, like he was tainting it. “WHO IS JUGHEAD?! IS THAT THAT FP’ SON?! HE WOULDN'T DEAL FOR ME! I DON'T WANT YOU TALKING TO HIS SON I DON'T WANT YOU NEAR HIM! YOU BETTER STAY AWAY YOU STUPID BITCH!” he spat at you. “No.” You couldn't believe you just said no to your father and neither could he at first but then his eyes darkened “what.did.you.just.say.to.me” he bit out. Your father lunged at you, throwing you back against the counter, handles digging into you. He began striking, flogging, thrashing you as you screamed out. He hit harder at your calls for help. He started hurling verbal abuse too harsh and barbaric for anyone's ears let alone yours. He's scrawled and scraped you, leaving no part of you not aching. He let you laying on the kitchen floor, blood rising from your scalp from being beaten off the cabinet. Discoloration was appearing in your eye as your body cried out in pain. *************** You balled up as small as possible in the corner as you heard your dad clamber out of the house once again slamming the door behind him. You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to restore your uneven breathing, failing at first. You glanced through blurred eyes at the clock. 11pm. He wouldn't be home till at least 3am and even then, you wouldn't be there. You slowly stood up fearing if you stood to fast you'd faint. You stumbled into your room grabbing all you owned and putting it into two bags. You took your school stuff and went to kitchen slowing picking up the pace as you adjusted to the pain. Reaching to the top shelf of a cabinet, now slightly covered in blood, you took a deep breath and wheezed through the pain as you retrieved a jar full with cash. You took all of it. You took one more look around the hell hole you had become accustomed to and closed the door not looking back. *Sms:BeanieBrainxX: hey jug..sorry I didn't reply emm listen I'm after getting into a little accident, well I mean it wasn't really an accident he meant to do it...anyway ive left my house and just need somewhere to stay just tonight, only for tonight. You know I hate asking for anything from anyone and I understand if your foster parents wouldn't be okay with it. Let me know Xx- 11.41pm *Sms:Y/N/NxXX: Yes of course you can! Where are you?! I'm coming to get you!!! Karen and Dave are away this weekend xxxxx -11.42pm *Sms: BeanieBrainxX: I'm actually outside your house now, I walked...well limped here- 11.44pm. Almost instantly after you hit send a light flashed on in the front room upstairs in the house. Jughead lashed open the door and ran to you while you hobbled to him. He met you in an embrace as you sobbed into his chest dropping your bags beside you. Jughead rocked you gently in his arms and supported you as you walked inside and up the stairs, him carrying your bags, words yet to be exchanged. You sat on edge of his bed as Jughead rushed in with half a pharmacy in his hands. He started by picking bits of porcelain out of your hair and gave you frozen peas to hold to your eye. He had nothing but sorrow and focus plastered across his face, nothing but pain and shame across yours. He cleaned your head wound and attempted to get the matted blood from your hair but failed and moved onto cleaning the cuts on your face. It stung but his reassuring eyes kept you from crying any more tears. He stopped and stood back to check for any more cuts and more shame rose to your face. You achingly pulled your shirt and hoodie off in one revealing new and old cuts and bruises accompanied by a new burn mark across your stomach. Jughead couldn't hide the shock and anger on his face as he reached to treat them with you flinching every time. You couldn't help but feel ashamed, sitting in your bra in front of your boyfriend, body completely coated in marks of aggression. “Did...did your parents do this?” Jughead treaded carefully with his words as he continued cleaning, “dad” you barely whispered. “Is this why you flinched at me today?” You nodded. “This wasn't a once off was it?” his sad eyes glanced over the new gnashes and the ones scarred over. You bit your lip and shook your head. Tears started to come to Jugheads eyes at the thought of anyone hurting you. He caught your hand softly and whispered “He can't hurt you now y/n...he'll never hurt you again” you leaned your head on his shoulder and began crying again. Jughead quickly enveloped you in a hug. Head buried in his chest you cried again. “shshsh y/n/n...It's okay y/n/n I won't let anyone hurt you like this ever again...I'm sorry it happened you in the first place” he kissed your forehead ever so gently. “Listen I want you to go take a shower and just wash away all the dried... blood” his voice caught on that last part. You nodded and let him lead you to the bathroom. “but first y/n...before you shower we're going to have to take photos of what your...what that man did to you okay? It's for the police so we have as much proof as possible okay. We'll call tomorrow, you need to rest tonight okay my lovely”. The thought of people seeing what had gone on behind closed doors frightened you but you knew it was the right thing to do and with Jughead by your side you could feel you could once again take on the world. ~~~ You had taken the longest shower you'd ever taken in your life. You watched the red swirl down the drain and although the cuts stung in the heat of the water you didn't mind, you were used to it. You dried yourself off and put on the one of Jughead's long tees he had left for you. You walked into his room and found him on his bed typing away at his laptop. He met your eye and gave a small smile and you returned it, on seeing your smile his grew wider. Jughead patted the space next to him and you crawled in next to him. He slung his arm around you and you cuddled in while pulling the duvet around yourself. You watched him type away for awhile before he shut the laptop down and put it on the floor. Jughead rolled to his side so you were both face on. “I told Karen and Dave about what happened, they said they'd be onto social services in the morning and that the oncall team can't do much now.” “Okay” you murmur. “Y/N...I don't want us to keep any secrets from each other anymore okay.” “Okay” “Promise?” “I promise Juggy” you snuggled deeply into his chest as he rests his head on yours, careful to not lean on the cut. “y/n” “Yes Jughead” “I love you Y/N Y/L/N and I don't want anyone to take you from me or try to change that” You smiled into his chest at his first verbal profession of love. “I love you Forsythe Pendleton the III” “Ughhhhhhh” he whines playfully above you and you laugh lightly. “I love you Juggy” “Yes, much better” he kisses your cut lips and tangles his legs in yours wanting to be as close as possible. It was the best night's sleep you've ever had. ---------------------------------------------- Teehee Xx Tag: @sunshine51879

#jughead jones #jughead x reader #jughead fluff #jughead fanfiction #riverdale #riverdale x reader #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fluff #riverdale graphic

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