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fics-by-em · 2 years ago

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Amorous Facades

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

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Note: This is my first foray into Ted Lasso fanfiction so please be kind!

The story starts between episodes five and six of season two and while I will stick as close to the story as possible, things may be changed slightly or added as necessary!

I have a big chunk of the story planned out, but this is the only chapter I have written so far. I couldn't resist posting it to see what people think and gauge the response so please let me know what you think and hopefully there will be more chapters ready soon! :)

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Ophelia ‘Lia’ Adams was not a party animal.

She didn’t mind the occasional drink and had even been known to get drunk every once in a while, but going out to clubs every weekend and staying out all night was not her idea of a good time.

However, Lia was a good friend with a tendency to be a little too self-sacrificing and that was how she’d been roped into throwing on a dress that was far too short to be decent and sipping on a tequila shot as she got herself ready for a wild night out.

“You’re supposed to drink it all in one go,” her friend, Katie, teased her as she flopped onto her bed. “It’s a shot, not a cocktail.”

“I know, but shots always make me feel sick.”

“Right,” Katie giggled. “I forgot you’re like twenty-four going on sixty.”

Lia huffed, rolling her eyes in the mirror as she straightened her hair and mumbled out a quiet and half-hearted ‘am not’ in protest.

“You are,” Katie insisted. “But I appreciate that you’re actually coming out tonight so I won’t tease you about it too much.”

“Good, because I can still change my mind,” Lia pointed out. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Club 95!”

The grin that slid onto Katie’s face made her excitement clear, but Lia raised an eyebrow.

“And how are we planning to get in there? Isn’t it basically exclusive to celebrities? People like us usually just spend the night queuing up outside places like that praying that we’ll get in.”

“Not tonight,” Katie practically sang with glee. “Daniel has a connection - through his uncle or something - and he got us all on the guest list.”

As soon as the name left her mouth, Lia’s head snapped around so fast she almost ripped the hair clamped in her straightener right out of her head.

“Daniel’s going to be there? You never told me that!”

“Of course he is,” Katie rolled her eyes. “He’s Mike’s best friend.”

Mike was Katie’s boyfriend and considering the reason they were even going out was to celebrate his birthday, it did make sense that his best friend would be there, but the thought still made Lia’s skin crawl.

Daniel was sleezy. There was no other way to describe him. He consistently made her uncomfortable with unwanted advances and he was completely undeterred by the fact that she rejected him every single time. Of course, he mostly accosted her when they were alone, but Katie and Mike had seen him in action harassing other women so she really had no idea why Mike insisted on being his friend. Whenever she confronted him about it, Mike would shrug and remind her that he’d known him since they were kids before insisting that he wasn’t really that bad and Lia would huff, roll her eyes and eventually decided to just do her best to avoid any events he might be at in the future. She’d so successfully avoided being in his company that she’d almost forgot he existed and she cursed herself for slipping up.

A sigh fell from her lips as she quickly lifted the tequila shot off of the dresser in front of her and finally downed what was left in the tiny glass. She heard Katie let out a cheer at her sudden enthusiasm, but Lia rolled her eyes as she held out the shot glass for a refill.

“There’s no way I can spend an evening in Daniel’s company if I’m sober.”

“Well, then you better pick up the pace,” Katie informed her as she poured them both another shot. “Because they’re going to be here in about half an hour.”

With a groan, Lia felt even the slightest hint of potential excitement for the evening slipping away. Knowing it was too late to back out, she tossed back the shot as soon as it was poured in the hopes that she could get herself feeling fuzzy enough by the time that Daniel was present to find him at least mildly tolerable.

When Mike and Daniel first arrived at the flat that Lia and Katie shared, it almost seemed like Daniel had turned over a new leaf in the months since Lia had seen him. He seemed calmer, less conceited and less misogynistic than she remembered him being and she relaxed slightly as she thought that maybe the night could still be fun after all. However, when they were leaving and she bent over to do up the zip on the heeled boots she was wearing and his hand ‘grazed’ her ass, she realized that his apparent change was too good to be true.

She’d jumped away from him with a squeak of displeasure, but he’d simply smirked and brushed it off as an accident caused by the narrow hallway and the close proximity it created. Lia didn’t buy it and flashed him a glare, but Katie’s pleading eyes had her letting it go in an attempt to keep the peace. She reluctantly laughed it off, but any glimmer of hope for civility between them had disappeared.

And it only got worse when they got to the club.

As promised, Daniel had led them past the long queue of people desperate for a way through the swanky red ropes at the door and straight inside, but as they settled in a booth in a dark back corner, it became clear that Daniel expected more than just a thank you for his efforts. With Katie and Mike tucked together on the opposite side of the table - distracted by each other - the occasional squeeze of Lia’s knee or stroke of her thigh went mostly unnoticed by them despite her growing discomfort and simmering rage. She kept up the steady pace of her drinking, but the nagging thought that it might be better to keep her wits about her was rising in her mind the more handsy that Daniel got. However, when Katie and Mike announced they were heading to the dancefloor and Daniel took advantage of the moment when Lia stood up to follow them to pull her down into his lap, her fury and disgust had her storming towards the bar to get another drink the moment she could drag herself out of his grip.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to loudly and openly demand that Daniel stop groping her and warn him never to touch another woman without her consent again. But it was Mike’s birthday and she also didn’t want to ruin his night.

So, the scream stayed in her throat, tightening and constricting her ability to breath until she was worried that she might pass out if she didn’t get something to take the edge off of her frustration soon. The busy club and crowded space in front of the bar did nothing to ease her anxiety as it slowed her pursuit of relief, but her restraint was finally broken when she felt an arm slide around her waist and smelt the waft of a cologne that told her the arm belonged to Daniel.

“Stop!” Her voice was firm and the way she ripped herself away from him left no room for misinterpretation, but the smirk on his face told her that he wasn’t going to pay much attention to the request. “I don’t want you to touch me again!”

“Oh, come on, Lia! Don’t be so dramatic. Let me buy you a drink and we can hang out while Mike and Katie are having a dance.”

He moved closer, but Lia stayed strong and held out her arm to keep some distance between them.

“No, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He moved closer and Lia felt her throat tightening even more as panic gripped her until Daniel suddenly paused his advances and she felt a different arm drape loosely over her shoulders. She tensed as she turned to see who was touching her now and was surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

“Hiya, babe!” The greeting was overly familiar for a stranger, but the soft smile on his face urged her to play along and had her relaxing into his body. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“I didn’t know we were coming here.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie as she hadn’t known where they would be spending their evening, but considering she didn’t know the man who had come to her rescue she wouldn’t have been able to tell him if she had. The entire interaction had stopped Daniel in his tracks, but Lia found the complete shock on his face a little offensive. It looked almost as if the idea of another man being interested in her was incomprehensible for him, but the man holding her spoke up again before he could voice his disbelief.

“Is this guy bothering you?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Daniel found his confidence again and cut her off.

“Are you serious?” He asked, mouth agape. “You know Jamie Tartt the footballer?”

Still slightly unsure of what exactly was happening, Lia shrugged noncommittally, but smiled sweetly at the man - apparently ‘Jamie’ - as she felt him tighten his grip.

“Yeah, mate,” he confirmed, the word sounding more like a threat than a term of endearment. “She knows me really well if you know what I’m sayin’ so I suggest you piss off.”

Daniel hesitated as his eyes flicked between them as if he was puzzling out whether or not he was being fooled and Lia held her breath as she silently prayed that they’d been convincing enough, only relaxing when he finally scoffed and shook his head.

“Whatever, she’s not worth the hassle.”

He didn’t stick around for a reaction to his parting shot, but Jamie waited until he’d stormed off and disappeared into the crowd to let his arm fall from her shoulders.

“Do you know him?”

“Unfortunately.”

A sigh fell from her lips as she nodded her head and despite the loud music blasting out from the dancefloor, she heard the disbelief in his voice loud and clear as he asked his next question.

“Is he your friend?”

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

“Good, because he seems like an absolute prick.”

His blunt honesty had a giggle slipping past her lips as she nodded in agreement.

“That is a pretty spot on assessment,” she admitted. “So, thank you very much for coming to my rescue, Jamie Tartt the footballer.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded before flashing her a smirk. “Now, why don’t you buy me a drink? You know, for being so chivalrous.”

It was a bold - borderline cocky - request, but Lia found herself laughing again as there was something about her knight in shining armor that put her at ease. He wasn’t arrogant in the off-putting way that Daniel was, it was more of an endearing self-confidence that he exuded. She didn’t even want to think about what could have happened had he not just stepped in and scared Daniel off so she eagerly and happily led him to the bar to compensate him for his kindness.

The biggest downside that Lia found to being an inexperienced drinker was that her low level of exposure to alcohol made her much more susceptible to hangovers than those who were used to drinking copious amounts of liquor.

And when she woke up the night after Mike’s birthday celebrations, she was immediately reminded of that fact.

Her stomach churned, her head throbbed and before she even opened her eyes it felt like she was feeling worse and worse with every passing moment. The more the fogginess of sleep drained from her mind, the more pains and discomfort she became aware of and she briefly wondered if she’d finally gone too far and might actually die from her hangover as she felt like there was truly no way that she could feel worse than she did in that moment.

That is, until she felt the bed shift as the person who was apparently laying beside her rolled over and let out a groan. A groan that definitely didn’t belong to her female flatmate.

Her eyes snapped open as panic took over and had her heart pounding in her chest. The room she was in was unfamiliar to her. The sheets she was wrapped in were far too expensive to be her own. She realized that she had no idea where she was and as she also began to realize that she couldn’t remember much of the night, her panic began to grow. The memory of her interaction with Daniel haunted her, but even though he was a horrible and misogynistic sleaze, she clung to a shred of hope that he wouldn’t be awful enough to take advantage of her if she was delirious - or do anything himself to get her in such a state.

With her thudding heartbeat echoing in her ears, she slowly rolled over and was instantly flooded with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” she let out the breath she’d been holding. “It’s you.”

Beside her was not the man who’d spent most of the part of the evening that she could recall harassing her, but the man who had saved her from him. His name - Jamie Tartt the footballer - sprang into her head as did a few blurry memories of the start of their evening together, but how she’d ended up in his bed was still a mystery to her.

“Course it’s me,” Jamie huffed, cracking an eye to look at her with a grimace on his face that told her he was feeling much the same as she was. “Who were you expecting?”

“No one,” Lia admitted. “I expected to wake up in my own bed, alone.”

Jamie grunted in response, letting his eye drift shut again as a silence settled between them until Lia worked up the courage to ask the question that was burning in her mind.

“Did we…uh…Did we…you know?”

If she had the energy to be embarrassed then Lia imagined her cheeks would probably be burning from her childish attempt at asking if they’d had sex, but her current hungover state left her unable to care even when Jamie opened his eyes again and flashed her a smirk.

“Did we fuck?” He clarified, waiting for her to nod before he half-heartedly attempted to shrug. “If I’m bein’ honest with ya, I can’t remember. But based on the fact that I still have my pants on and I’m not even under the blanket, I’m gonna say no.”

Another sigh of relief slipped from Lia's lips as he confirmed her suspicions. Her bra and underwear were still firmly in place despite her missing dress so she’d been hopeful that they hadn’t gone too far, but she had to admit that his handsome face and what she could see of his toned body were quite enticing and she couldn’t have blamed herself for giving into the temptation.

“That’s good, especially if we both can’t even remember it.”

Clearly a man of few words after such a heavy night of drinking, Jamie simply hummed in agreement, but as Lia gave up on conversation and let her arm fall over her face to shield her eyes from the sun streaming in through the window, Jamie seemed to find his voice.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned. “And especially if you’re fuckin’ married!”

“What? I’m not married?” Lia dropped her arm back down to the bed as her brow furrowed in confusion, but Jamie quickly lifted it back up to show her the engagement ring and wedding band resting on her ring finger. However, even through the shock and confusion, the ring wrapped around his own finger didn’t escape her notice as her panic returned in full force. “Are you married?”

“No, what are you on about?”

The confusion in Jamie’s face matched her own, but an idea was taking root in Lia’s mind that she just couldn’t shake. It was ridiculous. It was unrealistic. It was something that only happened in movies. But it was starting to seem like the only explanation. Pulling her arm from Jamie’s grip, she moved to sit up as fast as her weary body would allow and she leaned back against the headboard as she racked her exhausted brain for any kind of answer. However, her movement and the shift of the blanket filled the room with the sound of crinkling paper and she noticed a picture resting on the duvet between their legs.

A picture that created almost as many questions as it answered.

A picture of her and Jamie kissing at an altar in what appeared to be their wedding.

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Lia gasped, reaching for the picture to get a closer look. “This can not be happening.”

Jamie was still looking at her like she’d lost her mind until she held out the picture for him.

“Oh, fuck.” His eyes widened as he took the paper from her hand. “Are we married?”

“No, there’s no way,” Lia insisted, hopelessly wishing her brain was working at full capacity. “There’s no way that’s legal. We would have needed a marriage license and those take time. There’s laws about it, there’s rules you have to follow.”

“Not if you’re rich enough,” Jamie pointed out. “People will let you do anything for enough money.”

“I don’t have any money!”

“Okay, but I do.”

He said it like it was obvious, but it only added to Lia’s confusion.

“Who are you?” She asked, starting to sound as frantic as she felt. “I know you’re Jamie Tartt the footballer, but what does that mean?”

“It means I’m Jamie Tartt and a footballer,” he rather unhelpfully explained. “I play for AFC Richmond, like, professionally.”

“So, you’re basically like a celebrity?”

“I guess so, yeah. To some people.”

“And you have the money to bribe your way into a drunken, last minute marriage?”

“Probably,” Jamie shrugged. “Can’t say that I’ve ever tried.”

“How are you so calm about this?” The question made her exasperation clear, but she was panicking and his nonchalant demeanor was getting under her skin. “We’re married, Jamie! This is a nightmare.”

“First of all, that’s offensive,” he informed her, tossing the picture back down on the bed. “And I’m too fucking hungover to care. We don’t even know if it’s real.”

“Okay, but this,” Lia held her hand up in front of his face to remind him of her rings. “Makes it seem pretty real.”

“I dunno,” Jamie smirked, grabbing her wrist to stop her from moving her hand away. “Because if I was actually gonna propose, it wouldn’t be with a ring that cheap.”

“And surely it would be to someone whose name you actually know.”

“Course I know your name,” Jamie insisted. His tone was indignant, but as Lia patiently waited for him to elaborate, he quickly caved as he let go of her hand. “Alright, so maybe I can’t remember it right now, but I probably knew it last night.”

Lia stared at him for a moment before flopping back against the pillow and letting out a sigh as she raised a hand to rub at her temples in an attempt to soothe her pounding headache.

“It’s Lia,” she informed him. “This is crazy. What are we going to do?”

“Take a nap?” His suggestion was met with a huff of protest and a request for him to take it seriously, but he argued that he was. “I have training later, I need to sleep this off.”

It was a hard point to argue with when a nap did sound so appealing, but the uncertainty of the situation had Lia feeling overwhelmed and in her fragile state, her emotions bubbled to the surface.

“Please, Jamie,” Lia practically whispered, blinking back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. “We need to figure this out.”

The emotion in her voice caught Jamie’s attention and he flicked his eyes up to meet hers. There was concern on his face, but it was clear that he was fighting some kind of internal battle - probably between whether he should do something to ease her worries or stick with his plan to take a nap - until after a moment of deep thought, he let out a sigh and nodded his head.

“Alright, but can we at least stop to get a coffee on the way?”

“On the way where?”

“To Richmond,” he clarified, dragging himself out of bed and chivalrously passing Lia her dress that was on the floor by his feet. “I know some people who can probably help us.”

“Oh, perfect, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Jamie’s words were said with a sigh that made it clear to Lia just how much of a struggle it had been for him to get out of bed, but as he disappeared into the bathroom and she climbed out of bed herself, the effort that such a simple movement took made her realize that Jamie might have been on to something when he suggested they take a nap.

“Well, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tartt.”

The greeting came from a tall, blonde woman who - from her seat behind a large desk - appeared to be the owner of the office Jamie had taken her to. Their entrance had also caught the attention of the other woman sitting by the desk and the dark haired man beside her. When they’d arrived at the football stadium, Lia had worried that Jamie had simply been trying to shut her up by saying he had someone who could help them and had instead brought her with him to the training he’d mentioned earlier with the expectation that she’d find her own way home, but she was reassured that it still seemed like he had some kind of plan.

“How do you know about that?”

Jamie pulled two more chairs over to the desk, gesturing for Lia to sit down as the woman who’d greeted them pointed to the newspaper in front of her. There on the front page was a copy of the picture they’d found when they woke up and a snappy headline about Tartt being off the market.

“Oh my god,” she groaned. “This is so bad. I still can’t believe that it’s even legal for a bar to host last minute weddings for incredibly intoxicated people!”

“Luckily, I don’t think it is,” the woman informed her before adding an introduction. “I’m Rebecca Welton, owner of AFC Richmond, and this is Keeley Jones, our head of marketing and Roy Kent, one of our coaches.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lia murmured. “I’m Lia Adams, probably one of the most embarrassed people in the country right now.”

“It’s alright,” Keeley assured her with a warm smile. “We all do stupid shit sometimes, everyone will forget all about it in a couple weeks.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement before adding, “So, what can we do for you both?”

“I thought you’d know what to do,” Jamie shrugged. “Help us figure out if it’s legal and all that.”

“I can reach out to some people that should be able to help,” Rebecca agreed, picking up her phone and quickly typing away. “But I can almost guarantee you that whatever ceremony you had last night was not legally binding.”

Relief washed over Lia as she sank back into her chair, hoping that Rebecca’s assurances would prove to be true.

“What’s the story with you two anyway?” Keeley asked. “How did you meet?”

“Last night at a bar,” Jamie informed them before smugly adding, “I saved her from some guy that was being a prick.”

“You only just met last night and decided to get married that fast? That’s so romantic!”

Keeley’s use of the word ‘romantic’ wasn’t exactly the one that Lia would have chosen, but Roy - who had been simply watching them intensely the whole time - spoke up before she could argue.

“Well, it makes sense,” he scoffed. “If she spent any longer in his company than she never would have agreed to marry him.”

“Shut up, old man,” Jamie shot back. “Don’t be such a dick.”

Anger flashed across Roy’s face, but a ping from Rebecca’s phone distracted everyone before he could answer.

“Ah, just what I thought,” she smiled as she read the message. “There is no way that you are actually legally married and my contacts found no trace of an application for a marriage license under either of your names.”

Hearing once and for all that they hadn’t made too much of a mess with their drunken wild adventure was almost enough to have Lia squealing with glee, but the headache that was still lingering in her poor, dehydrated brain had her settling for an ear to ear grin.

“Wow, thank you so much for your help. That was such a quick response.”

“I only work with the best,” Rebecca informed her, flashing her a wink. “So, you’re both free to go your separate ways.”

“Well, hang on a minute,” Jamie protested. “This could actually be good for me.”

“How so?”

The shock was clear in Lia’s voice, but as she looked around the room it seemed her confusion was shared by almost everyone there.

“Well, I have a bit of a bad reputation,” he admitted, providing Lia with more questions than answers. “And this might make people start giving me the benefit of the doubt. You know, if I’m a family man.”

There was a smirk on his face, but Lia wasn’t entirely sure that she liked what it seemed like he was suggesting as she pressed for more information.

“What kind of a bad reputation do you have?”

“People think that I’m a bit of a cocky prick who sleeps around a lot.”

“Because you are a cocky prick who sleeps around a lot.”

The interjection came from Roy, but Jamie kept his cool as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know, but I’m tryin’ to be better.”

“And what?” Lia questioned, her skepticism clear in her voice. “You want to marry me to help convince people that you’ve changed?”

“Not, like, for real,” he assured her. “But it’s already all over the papers, we can just let people think that it’s real.”

The suggestion had a giggle falling from Lia’s lips as she was so sure that there was no way he was serious until Keeley jumped into the conversation.

“It would actually probably help Jamie out a lot,” she reluctantly agreed. “It would be good for people to see that there’s another side to him.”

The shock that she felt hearing those words leave Keeley’s mouth had her so stunned that she was unable to formulate any kind of response. However, she was grateful that as she sat with her jaw dropped, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening, Rebecca - who appeared to be just as aghast as she was - chimed in with some sense.

“You’re not actually serious, are you?” She questioned. “How on earth could you sell it? He was just galavanting around on TV bragging about his sexual escapades, no one will believe this is some romantic love match.”

The longer the conversation went on, the more questions Lia had about the man sitting beside her, but before she could question what exactly Rebecca was referring to, Jamie had a solution to the problem she’d brought up.

“Could say that we were on a break,” he shrugged. “But she forgave me when I got home. I’ll even admit to running back with me tail between me legs, say that I only went on the show because I was so heartbroken.”

To Lia’s horror, it seemed that Jamie’s plan eased Rebecca’s doubts as her face shifted from disgust into something that seemed much more understanding.

“Okay, wait,” she spoke up, finally finding her voice. “I have a few questions about all this. Like, first of all, why were you bragging about your sexual escapades on TV?”

“I was on that island dating show a few months ago.”

She knew the one he was talking about and she cringed, knowing the type of people who went on that kind of show and the type of antics they got up to.

“And now you’re trying to rebrand yourself to change the public's perception of you?”

“I’m trying to be a better person,” he clarified. “And it would be nice if everyone didn’t assume that I’m still a prick.”

Roy scoffed, earning a quick ‘shh’ from Keeley, but Lia had to admit that she was leaning more towards sharing his skepticism. She liked to give people the benefit of the doubt and was a firm believer that even good people sometimes made bad decisions and were deserving of a second chance, but if it had only been a few months since he was on some trashy reality TV show then she was unsure of how much he could have changed in such a short amount of time.

“That’s admirable,” she relented. “But why do you want me to help you make that happen?”

“Because there’s already pictures of the two of you together all over the papers,” Keeley reminded her. “It would be an easier sell than if we found someone else to help out.”

“But none of you know anything about me. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“Are you?”

The question came from Jamie and the genuine concern on his face would have been amusing under different circumstances.

“No, but if I was then I probably wouldn’t admit it,” she pointed out. “It just seems crazy to me that you’re so willing to jump into some kind of arrangement with me when all you know about me is that sometimes I get drunk and make incredibly irresponsible decisions like getting ‘married’ to a handsome stranger.”

She saw a smirk sliding onto Jamie’s face that only had her annoyance growing, but she was quickly distracted by Keeley sheepishly waving her phone in the air.

“I’ve been creeping your social media while we’ve been sat here,” she admitted. “Obviously you could have some deep dark secrets that no one knows, but from what I can tell you seem like quite a sweetheart and you’re really fucking adorable.”

The compliment had Lia’s cheeks heating up, but the insanity of what was being suggested still weighed on her. Maybe in the world of celebrities - even minor ones as many people would class professional footballers to be - it was a normal thing to fake a relationship to sway public opinion, but in Lia’s world that wasn’t something that happened every day and she felt like any moment everyone would burst out laughing and shout ‘gotcha!’ like she was on some kind of prank show.

“You don’t have to agree to anything if you’re not comfortable,” Rebecca assured her, picking up on her hesitation. “This is a completely insane request and everyone will completely understand if it’s too much to ask.”

Lia got the feeling that her words were just as much a reminder for the people waiting for her response as they were to reassure her, but as ridiculous as the situation was, she had to admit that she was intrigued. There was nothing else going on in her romantic life and despite the red flag of Jamie’s reputation apparently being in dire need of fixing, he seemed like a nice guy and they’d had fun the night before from what she could remember. Plus, she’d be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive and there were worse things in life than pretending some hot, rich footballer was your husband.

“Well, what would be in it for me?” she asked after a moment of thought. “You get the benefit of having your reputation boosted, but what do I get out of this?”

“I can make it worth your while.” Jamie’s offer was said with a wink and smirk, but despite the flush of heat that washed over Lia at the thought of what he was alluding to, she rolled her eyes and waited for him to make what he clearly thought was a more enticing offer. “Alright, I’ll pay ya.”

“Like I’m some kind of escort?”

“No! I just meant that I’ll take care of you!”

“Oh, like a sugar daddy?”

“No! That’s not what I mean. You’re twisting my words!”

Lia was about to protest and argue that she was simply trying to understand what he was offering and insist that she was not comfortable with any kind of money being exchanged as if he was hiring her to be his wife, but Rebecca - who Lia was finding to be an ever present voice of wisdom - stepped in to help them find a more productive way to resolve the issue.

“Lia, is there anything in particular that you would like to get out of the arrangement?”

It was a much more direct way to figure it out instead of Jamie offering her things she was going to turn down, but it was such a big question that she wasn’t really sure how to answer. She shrugged as she racked her brain for some way to make the situation mutually beneficial until eventually an idea popped into her head.

“My dad owns a bookstore,” she informed them, a flash of excitement running through her as she realized that there might actually be a positive side to the mess she’d gotten herself into. “It’s just a small local one, but he’s had it for years - since before I was born - and now with all the big chains he’s finding it harder to compete. Maybe if there was some way for Jamie to subtly promote it and get a few extra customers in the door then that could be really helpful.”

“There’s one big problem with that,” Roy informed her, a smirk sliding onto his face. “No one’s ever gonna believe that Jamie Tartt knows how to read.”

“Oh, piss off,” Jamie spat as Keeley warned him to be quiet and keep any unhelpful opinions to himself. “I can so read and I’m always happy to support local businesses.”

It was clear from the strain on his face that Roy had more thoughts he was dying to share, but a stern look from Keeley had him keeping quiet as Lia sat up a little straighter and tried to control her newfound enthusiasm for their plan.

“That would really help me out. So, if you’re willing to do that then I am willing to pretend that I am Mrs. Tartt,” she agreed. “But we’ll have to set up some ground rules.”

It was Jamie’s turn to look hesitant and suspicious as he cautiously nodded his head.

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

“You won’t be able to sleep with anyone,” she informed him. “People talk and if you’re already going to let them all think I was stupid enough to take you back after you ditched me to go be a whore on TV then I won’t do if it you’re going to let them think I was stupid enough to marry you even though you’re cheating on me.”

“I didn’t ditch you to be a whore on TV, I ditched you and then I was a whore on TV.”

“Semantics,” Lia rolled her eyes. “That’s my number one rule so if you’re not okay with being celibate then I can’t do this.”

Jamie looked almost physically pained by the idea, but after a moment of internal debate, he reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Anything else?”

They spent the next half an hour debating the logistics of their arrangement. Neither side had too many demands other than Lia’s request for him to stop seeing other people and Jamie requesting for her to move in with him in case photographers were sniffing around, but they also had to figure out what their official story would be. In the end, they came up with two versions. For the general public, they would confirm that their late night drunken wedding was simply a joke and a bit of fun, but admit that they’d been together for a while and had a small, private wedding a few weeks before. For close friends and family who would have been in attendance at said wedding and would therefore know it wasn’t true and for Jamie’s teammates - some of whom were present at for their drunken nuptials according to the pictures in the paper - they would admit that they were just pretending to be married to brighten up Jamie’s reputation, but would tell everyone that they’d been dating since Jamie returned from his excursion into reality TV.

Lia was still struggling to wrap her mind around the situation, but everyone had assured her that she could bail at any point if it became too much so she was willing to give it a shot - especially if it meant helping out her dad’s business. By the time they were done discussing all the ins and outs, she was very much ready for a nap and not at all ready to face the millions of texts that she knew were waiting for her from the near constant buzzing of her phone. Jamie and Roy had to get ready for training, but Lia was very grateful that Jamie took a little detour to walk her back out to his car.

“I can take the bus,” she assured him as he tried to hand her his keys. “Or how will you get home?”

“Someone will give me a ride,” he insisted, jangling the keys until she tentatively took them from his hand. She mumbled out a ‘thanks’ so softly that she wasn’t even sure he would have heard until he replied. “It’s the least I can do after what you’re doing for me. I promise I’m not as bad as you’re probably imagining. Or, I’m tryin’ not to be.”

There was something about the vulnerability in his voice that tugged on Lia’s heartstrings. He was basically a stranger to her and she didn’t know his story, but it was clear to her that he truly was trying to be a better person despite whatever he’d done in his past. She was fully intending to Google him as soon as she got home just to make sure that the sins he was trying to atone for weren’t anything as extreme as murder or any kind of violence, but there was something about him that made her want to give him the benefit of the doubt and there was obviously something that she’d seen in him the night before that made her like him enough to marry him.

“I believe you,” she smiled. “But we can talk about it later. Good luck with your training, I hope your hangover doesn’t hold you back too much.”

Jamie scoffed out a laugh as they both knew that he wouldn’t be in top form that afternoon, but then he surprised her as he leaned in to press a kiss on her cheek. She stood stunned even after he’d pulled away, shocked by the comforting familiarity of the gesture, but as Jamie opened the door of his car for her, she spotted a few of his teammates watching them from the pitch and realized why he’d done it.

“Oh, I don’t know your address,” she reminded him as she climbed into the car. “Can you text it to me?”

“I don’t have your number.”

Lia laughed at the absurdity of the situation - they were supposed to be married yet they barely knew any basic information about each other - and rattled off her phone number as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Once everything was sorted and Lia knew where she was heading after she went home to pick up her things, she said goodbye and headed out of the parking lot, but paused to blow a kiss out the window and laughed as Jamie dramatically caught it.

They had a relationship to sell after all - as he’d just reminded her - and she was relieved to see that they might be able to have a little fun along the way.

chapter two

#jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #amorous facades

103 notes · View notes

thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! you can write this: marilyn and fem.reader is in love, but the reader finds out that Marilyn is Laurel when she sees Laurel poisoning Weems in the greenhouse. so reader tries to talk Laurel out of her plans, but Laurel instead lies that she never loved reader and threatens reader with a syringe. the reader knows that Laurel is lying, but runs away. later, when Wednesday kills Crackstone, Laurel is somehow seriously injured (Perhaps she was shot with a bow by Xavier Thorpe, and the arrow hit her in the shoulder). but here the reader comes and saves Laurel (I haven't figured out how, it's up to you). at the end, reader tends to Laurel's wound and Laurel regrets everything she said to her earlier. I hope everything is clear, because I am writing through a translator:) thank you very much for your works, they lift my spirits!

Yesss!!! Here it is!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the delay and the language mistakes!!! :))))

Arrows and lies

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/Laurel Gates x Fem Student! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, bad choices

Word count: 6,363

Summary: You were in love with her, and you didn’t care who she really was, or what she told you when you discovered it.

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“Stay here, in your room, blablabla…” You repeated, walking from one side to the other, mockingly pronouncing the words your lover said to you.

Marilyn Thornhill was a sweet, pleasant woman who had no qualms about starting a relationship with you, her student. Things went so fast that you couldn't even be aware that the woman you had been in love with for more than 2 months felt the same way about you.

It was a secret, complicated relationship. You were young, a dreamer who believed in love above all things. She was an older woman, down to earth. You insisted over and over again that your love didn't have to be a secret and you often argued about it.

Despite that, you knew she loved you. If she told you something she shouldn't, she would send a love letter every day accompanied by the most beautiful flower in the conservatory. Lately she was a bit irritable. The nights of clandestine passion in her room became routine, empty. It seemed as if she was thinking of other things than your body, your kisses, your moans...

You didn't care, you knew that she was taking care of the Ophelia Hall section, and that her new student, Wednesday Addams, didn't stop giving her problems. Even so, everyday she repeated that she loved you a million times, ans she took advantage of any moment of distraction to pick you up, take you to a secluded place and kiss you and caress you with that smile that you thought could leave you breathless.

That day you thought it would be different, that Wednesday's expulsion was going to change her attitude and she could finally relax. It didn't seem to be the case. Without giving you time to ask why, Marilyn told you to go to your room, that she had a surprise for you.

You grumbled, because she told you that she had to do some things in the conservatory first, and for the first time in your relationship, she didn't let you come with her. That old glass building was like a shelter of love for you, a solitary place, where you could talk affectionately while you took care of the plants, and sometimes, of yourselves.

But you couldn't deny anything to your sleeplessness reason, the reason of all your smiles. She was everything to you, and you to her. Confidence had to be the same as she gave you, all the confident of the world.

“Shit…” You said, looking at your phone. You had been waiting for 45 minutes and you were not a patient girl. Whatever the surprise was, was killing you inside. The sun stopped shining a long time ago and a terrible chill ran down your spine, followed by a bad, very bad feeling.

You leaned out of the window, from which you could see the conservatory in the distance. There was light, it was obvious that Marilyn was still there. You huffed, overwhelmed and impatient, sitting up on the bed, checking for the umpteenth time that she hadn't responded to the messages you had left for her.

You couldn't take the suspense anymore, and hitting your knees with your hands, you left the room. It was a very strange night, there seemed to be no one in the halls. You knew your classmates, they didn't go to bed that early.

You came out of Nevermore and saw the conservatory in the distance. Naturally you had never cheated on or disobeyed Marilyn, but at least you could pretend you hadn't. Your powers came in very handy when it came to being stealthy. You could be invisible, become just a breeze passing through people. A power that your former fellow normies dreamed of every day.

It wasn't really that amazing, it had a limit, half an hour. After that time, you would be seen by anyone again.

Luckily for you, the conservatory door was open, allowing you to sneak in, unseen. You expected to find the redhead working on her plants, humming some of her favorite songs. You had to keep your balance and fight not to scream. The vision you had was totally different.

Wednesday Addams, who was supposed to be off of Nevermore, was there, looking seriously at the redhead. Principal Weems was also there. Marilyn didn't have the same look as always, she seemed furious.

“Don't make this more difficult for me than it already is, Marilyn…” Weems said, looking at the redhead with a disappointed face. You didn't say anything. You couldn't do it, or you'd be found out. It was all too confusing, Marilyn seemed cornered by something.

Her hand went to her pocket, staring at the principal. Her furious look was too far from her usual tender smile. The lack of her glasses on her face accentuated that darkness that covered her eyes. It all happened in a second.

“My name is Laurel!” Marilyn yelled, jabbing a syringe filled with bright blue liquid into Larissa's neck.

Weems staggered, horrified, and she fell to the ground under the watchful eye of her attacker.

“Principal Weems!” Wednesday yelled, ducking as Larissa trembled on the floor, foaming at her mouth.

Nightshade poison, you were sure.

Your mind worked quickly to find an explanation for what had happened. It could be a bad dream, you could have fallen asleep waiting for Marilyn. As much as you clung to that possibility, you knew better. That was real, just like her name. Laurel. Laurel Gates.

Enid Sinclair, Ophelia Hall's nosy werewolf, was one of your best friends and that gave you access to almost insider information.

Apparently, Wednesday was investigating the strange attacks on hikers and the death of one of your Nevermore classmates. Young Addams was convinced that it was a terrible monster’s fault, a Hyde’s fault, more specifically, directed by a thirsty master, who wants revenge against the outcasts. The sole survivor of the Gates family, the girl who pretended to die, but rose again to kill you all.

You did not pay attention to those investigations, until that moment, in which everything that happened around you began to make sense. A terrifying sense.

Naturally, you discussed about all of this with Marilyn, but she always evaded your questions, or made light of them. You thought it was simply because she didn't want to have more things on her mind. At that moment, you understood that it was because she was responsible. She was that girl who was left without a family, who faked drowning to return to Jericho 30 years later and exact her revenge.

Your whole world fell to the ground. Your expectations, your thoughts became wild and uncontrollable. Anger coursed through your veins, confusion made you dizzy, and your heart beat impassively at that information. She wanted to kill outcasts, but you were her girlfriend, her lover. Nothing made sense, you wanted to scream, cry, laugh out loud. You were a whirlwind of emotions, except for one that remained intact to your shame, the love you felt for her.

You had to cover your mouth to keep from screaming, but that wasn't the biggest of your problems. Your legs wobbled and you collided with one of the desks, causing a glass vase to shake and grab the redhead's attention.

Marilyn, or rather, Laurel looked around her, while Wednesday tended to an unconscious Weems, trying to wake her up, without success.

Her eyes turned dangerous looking at every corner of the conservatory.

“(Y/N)… I know you're here,” she said with a dark voice, taking a shovel from a corner. You couldn't hold back the tears and little scared moans, confirming your presence. Your powers did not respond well when you were nervous and, scared, you looked at your reflection in the glass wall, confirming that your invisibility had disappeared.

Wednesday looked up and her eyes widened, surprised by your presence. A mistake that she would pay dearly.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing…?”

She couldn't finish the sentence. Laurel hit her hard on the head, causing her to fall next to the principal.

“Shut up, you stupid…” The redhead whispered, dropping the shovel immediately after.

After checking that the girl was unconscious, she stared at you.

“I told you to wait for me in your room…” She whispered, approaching you and grabbing your arm tightly, hurting you. “What the hell are you doing here?!” She yelled furiously, her hands shaking.

You closed your eyes while you did not stop crying.

“Stop crying and talk!” Laurel said, shaking you.

“You're Laurel Gates!” You yelled, breaking free of her grip. “You were behind everything that happened!”

She remained standing, but, contrary to being scared, or denying it, the redhead nodded with a wicked smile, crossing her arms.

“You're a very smart girl, (Y/N), have you come to that conclusion by yourself?” She said sarcastically, looking at the two inert bodies on the floor.

You were terrified, confused and dizzy. It was too much information, devastating information, and you hadn't even had time to process it. Your crying made it impossible for you to answer.

“Why?” You whispered, looking with fear at who had been hugging you in her bed a few hours ago.

She made a childish face, tilting her head.

“Oh, maybe you're not that smart, huh?” She said with a laugh so uncharacteristic of her that it sent horrible pangs to your heart.

“You lied to me…” You whispered, crying helplessly, unable to face the situation as a girl your age should.

“Oh, poor thing, I lied to you. Wake up, (Y/N)! Do you think I was going to let the outcasts win? That they get away with it after killing my family?”

You shook your head, but you didn't know why. She reached out her hand to grab you again, but you backed away.

“All this time the only thing you've wanted is to kill us?” You asked, seeing blurry, feeling like you were going to faint.

“It's nothing personal, (Y/N), you just don't deserve to live…” Laurel said, with an impassive smile, feeling no guilt for her actions, as well as for your pitiful state.

“I love you…” You whispered in a pathetic sigh, without strength, unable to believe everything you had seen, everything you were hearing.

“Stupid girl…” She hissed, now yes, managing to grab your wrist, pulling you tightly towards her.

You didn't know how to act. The woman of your life simply confessed her desire to kill all the outcasts, and you were very afraid that you were included. It was all so strange and surreal that you still thought that she didn't mean it, or that, somehow, that love that she claimed to feel for you was true. Maybe you could spend your last chance to change her mind. You were not a negotiator, nor a psychologist. You were just a girl in love, who wanted to save Laurel Gates's soul, in order to save her own, and stop feeling miserable for continuing to love her even knowing the true side of her.

“No, you don't have to, Marily… Laurel…” You said in a very low voice. The redhead tugged at your arm again. “No one has treated you badly in Nevermore… Things are not like before, you are not a murderer, I know you aren’t.”

“What? Speak louder, you disgusting outcast…” She demanded, letting you go.

You shook your head, leaning against one of the glass walls.

“You said you loved me…” You whispered. She sighed, but her face turned serious, cold. -Please don’t do it…”

Laurel was thoughtful, the mockery seemed to no longer reign in her gaze. You couldn't read her expression, you didn't feel capable either. You were hurt, nervous, scared and terribly in love. Finally, after a few seconds, Laurel sighed again.

“You don't know anything about me, (Y/N), you know only what I wanted you to know,” she said, taking her phone and writing on it. She then put it away and looked at you again. “If you've been so naive as to believe that I loved you, it's because you were dumber than I thought. What a waste of time.”

“What?” You said horrified, feeling how your heart broke in two. “That's not true...”

You didn't believe her words. That relationship you had was very special. Full of love, affection, sometimes quite excessive. The things she told you didn't sound like the lies of a deranged madwoman. She loved you, you were convinced. At that point, you were just trying to be, otherwise you would be lost forever.

“Do you think so? Please (Y/N). I admit that I have had a good time with you. You've been such a fun toy these past few months. But look at reality, honey. I never loved you, I have never felt anything but disgust for you...”

Those words made you give a piercing, desperate cry.

“You lie!” You yelled, dropping to the floor, burying your head between your knees.

“You're pathetic, (Y/N). I could never fall in love with someone like you,” she said, grabbing your hair and letting it go, making your head hit the glass.

“Please, don't do it!” You yelled desperately. You were a mess full of tears, but even so you spent what little strength you had left trying to calm down the woman who was humiliating you, the one who said that she never loved you, a woman to whom you were disgusting.

You reached out as she turned and grabbed her ankle, stopping her from walking.

“Ahg, let me go,” she demanded, shaking her leg hard. You couldn't hold her any longer. Furious, Marilyn headed for her desk.

You made an effort and got up off the floor.

“You are hindrance. But don't worry, I'll finish you off, you'll be the first…” Laurel told you, examining another of those sinister syringes.

You didn't move, while the redhead pounced on you, threatening you with the syringe.

“You can always disappear from my sight, maybe that way you will survive,” she said on top of you, removing the air that that syringe could contain.

You were hurt, dying of love. You didn't think about the threats, but about everything you had lost, about the feeling of having lived a lie. Deep down in your broken heart, you felt that she was not telling the truth, that she was just lying. It was a small light of hope that was fading more and more.

In a sudden movement, you grabbed her wrist, aiming the syringe at your neck.

“What the hell are you doing?” The redhead asked, struggling against your grip.

“Do it, Laurel! Kill me now! If what you say is true, stick the syringe in me, finish me off. Without you my life will only be a slow and painful agony,” you said sobbing, feeling the syringe on your neck. It was going to be your end, but you didn't care either. The damage you had suffered was irreparable, you no longer cared about dying.

She didn't do anything, she just looked at you curiously. Her hand was trembling, as was the syringe in your neck.

“No, (Y/N)…” She said, getting up and throwing the poison far out of reach. “You're so pathetic that I'll let you live your miserable life. Get out!”

You woke up, scared of yourself, of what you were about to do.

She didn't love you, or so she told you. She was going to kill all your classmates. You had no choice but to try to do something right, to try to save them all, and to suppress the love you felt for her.

You ran out of the conservatory crying, tripping and falling several times. You had to find help, someone who could stop all of this. There was no one in Nevermore. Everything was silent. You ran towards the exit, but you didn't know where, towards the police station? No, you wouldn't be able to turn Laurel over… To get help? You didn't know who.

The headlights of a car coming through the Nevermore back door blinded you. Tyler Galpin, waiter at the Weathervane and some kind of a friend, got out of his car.

There was no other person to ask for help at the time, so you ran towards him, crying.

“Tyler!” You yelled, getting his attention. You threw yourself into his arms, crying desperately into his shoulder.

“(Y/N), what's wrong?” He asked you, with a calm voice, as always.

“Ma, Marilyn… She, she's not her, she's, she's Laurel Gates, she wants, she wants to kill us all and…” You stopped talking when your mind realized how strange it was to see the boy in the academy . “What are you doing here?”

Naturally he didn't answer, just cupped your face in his hands, grinning sinisterly.

“Eh, eh, don't worry, you don't have to be afraid…” He said in a whisper. “Oh my God, you're shaking… Here, cover yourself with this.”

The boy took off his jacket and put it over your shoulders. You were saying very serious things that would put anyone on alert. But not him, he was more concerned that you were cold. You didn't have to be very smart to figure out what was going on. You took several steps back, looking at Tyler in horror.

“You… You are the Hyde…” You whispered. He had no qualms confirming it, nodding with a smile.

“Calm down, (Y/N), nothing will happen to you,” he said, approaching you. You walked away slowly, while a lot of revelations pounced on you. You shook your head.

“No, no…” You said sobbing. Not even your friend was free from betrayals. Tyler made a good boy face and managed to put a hand on your shoulders.

“You are safe, (Y/N), Laurel ordered me to protect you, she would kill me if I even looked at you badly. Now stay here and don't move, it will all be over soon.”

You remained blocked, while the boy calmly walked away towards the conservatory. You let yourself fall to the ground, with your eyes wide open and hundreds of contradictory thoughts. She had ordered her killing machine to protect you, but why would she? She told you that you would die too, that you were no different from the other outcasts.

Now you had many more doubts. Your head was a mess. The voice of your beloved disparaging you had stuck in your brain, but that strange conversation with Tyler belied everything she told you, so you didn't know what was really the truth, if she had lied, or if she hated you.

A current of cold air passed through your body. You didn't know exactly how long you had been there for, simply thinking, remembering all the special moments you lived with her, remembering each one of the horrible words she said to you that night.

You put on Tyler's jacket to keep warm, while you started walking, you didn't know where to go.

A lot of shouting coming from the courtyard got your attention. Your companions were terrified running out the building. Something very bad was happening. You couldn't let her plans come to fruition, you just couldn't do it.

But you were afraid, you were afraid to turn those eyes, those so different from the ones that looked at you tenderly when you danced alone in the conservatory, whispering to you that she loved you, that she would do anything for you. It wasn’t the time to think, but to act.

You ran into the quad, which seemed to be on fire, with an avalanche of young students and teachers running for safety.

When you arrived there wasn't much to see anymore, just Wednesday, Bianca, and a strange man, who looked uncannily like the late pilgrim, Joseph Crackstone.

The pilgrim had a sword stuck on him, and he seemed to fall apart in front of your classmates.

That was her plan, to resurrect her ancestor so that he would do the dirty work, just like with Tyler. With a bang, the demon disappeared.

You took several steps towards your companions, but the click of a gun made you stop. She, Laurel, pointing a gun at Wednesday.

“I won't be able to kill all the outcasts, but I can kill you, Wednesday,” the redhead said, about to pull the trigger. You weren't going to allow it.

“No!” You yelled, drawing the attention of everyone present. Laurel looked at you scared.

“(Y/N)?” She asked, letting her guard down.

An arrow went through the place, hitting the redhead directly in the shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain. You looked towards the person responsible. Xavier Thorpe, your classmate falsely accused of being under the orders of your beloved. He carried his bow with him.

“That's what you get for messing with Nevermore,” he said satisfied.

The redhead writhed on the ground in pain. You were paralyzed, but not for long. Your feelings took control of you and you ran towards her, hugging her.

“Ah…” Laurel complained, while you tried to hold her still to remove the arrow from her shoulder. “Please…”

“Okay, okay, calm down…” You said, grabbing the arrow and carefully withdrawing it, causing more piercing cries of pain. You were nervous, you didn't think of anything but taking care of Laurel, whoever she was, whatever she felt for you. You loved her and you would continue to do so, and you wanted to save her, protect her.

You took off your uniform tie and used it to put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You're going to be fine, you'll see, just hold on a bit, okay?” You said trembling, pressing the cloth against the wound.

When you heard the bow stretching again, you looked up.

“(Y/N), leave her, she's done. Get away,” Wednesday told you, pointing towards Laurel, ready to finish her off once and for all.

“No, Wednesday, she's not going anywhere,” you said, hugging the redhead, who was looking at her with fury, but also with fear.

“She was going to kill us all. Please, (Y/N), get out of the way.”

“No!” You yelled.

“(Y/N)… Please, step away…” Laurel said, pulling on your jacket. “I, I don't want you to get hurt...”

“I'm going to count to three,” young Addams said, pointing again with a resigned sigh. “One, two…”

You didn't have time, and you simply let yourself be carried away by your instincts. The invisibility was powerful, but limited. Still, you believed that if you acted that way, you would stand a chance.

You grabbed Laurel's hand, who gave you a strange look.

“Three!” Wednesday yelled, shooting the arrow to no avail. She could no longer see you.

“Where have they gone?” Xavier asked.

“It has been (Y/N), they have become invisible.”

In complete silence, Laurel looked at you scared, while you shook your head.

You could make the person you touched turn invisible as well, but for a short period of time.

It was done, there was no going back. You had to flee from that place, heal Laurel and get out of Jericho. Now you were an accomplice, although you really only intended to save the woman you loved from death.

Making sure they couldn't see you anymore, you grabbed the redhead, who had to fight hard not to scream, and ran with her.

“You won't go very far!” You heard Wednesday yelling.

Laurel could barely move, she was walking with difficulty, falling several times to the ground.

"Come on, please…" You said, picking her up, putting her uninjured arm around your shoulders.

"Why?" Laurel sighed. You didn't answer, you kept walking. Surely they would be chasing you and there was no way out.

You managed to get outside, into the cold of the night. Laurel grew weaker and fell to the ground again, this time dragging you along with her.

“No, I can't do it, (Y/N)… It hurts so bad…” She told you, hersing. You didn't let her hand go and started to sob. Your brave but stupid feat seemed to have come to an end. It was almost a suicide. You didn't even have anywhere to go.

You sat on the ground, crying desperately, waiting for your friends, who would soon find you. As you moved you heard something inside your jacket. A jingle, like the keys do.

You put your hand in your pocket and you couldn't believe your eyes. Tyler had left you his jacket, and in it were his car keys. It seemed like a miracle, a sign of fate.

“The car…” You whispered, almost laughing at that little wink of fortune. “Come on, Laurel, we're going to get out of here.”

With one last effort, you managed to pick up the redhead and walk a few more inches until you reached the boy's red car.

You opened the back door, placing Laurel sprawled in the seats, and started the car, finally getting out of Nevermore.

Everything had happened so quickly that you didn't even believe that you would have been capable, for many reasons. She was a murderer, a criminal, the woman who despised you, who told you she didn't love you, and the same one who still ordered her monster to protect you.

You knew you couldn't leave the town. The police would be waiting on every road. Laurel was badly hurt and you didn't know how much she could take either. You arrived at a dark place, without streetlights, and there you stopped, getting out of the car to assess the redhead's condition.

“Laurel…” You sighed, leaning into her.

The redhead trembled, she wasn't even complaining anymore. That was a very bad thing. The little patch you made to her wound was completely covered in red. You couldn't leave the town in that state. She had lost a lot of blood, she needed you to heal her, and urgently.

“Shit!” You yelled, hitting the car. “Fuck!”

“(Y/N)…” Laurel said, in a shaky voice.

“I'm sorry… I can't save you. I can't even do it... I'm stupid…” You lamented.

“Honey… Please, I don't want you to save me… I, I don't deserve it.”

“I decide if you deserve it or not!” You yelled furiously.

“It doesn't matter, (Y/N), I don't want you to have problems because of me… I've always wanted to protect you…” She said, with a voice that faded more and more. “Always…”

“Shut up!” You yelled again, placing a hand on her forehead. She was on fire. You were clearly at a dead end. The fever was already rising. She needed medicines, bandages, everything that you didn't have at the time. Desperate, you pressed your tie back against her wound, blood smearing your hand.

There was nothing to do. Either you treated her wound, or she would bleed to death, or the shock would do it. It wasn't what you wanted, what you wanted when you took her out of Nevermore. But you had no escape. You knew how to treat these types of wounds, you were the best in first aid, but you had no material, you had nothing to do it with.

At this point you took the mobile from your pocket and dialed 9, and then 1.

You could no longer free her from justice, from prison, but you could at least save her life, just like you did when you prevented a second arrow from piercing her heart.

“Sheriff, this is Deputy Santiago, does you receive me? Over.”

Those voices kept you from dialing one last number. You looked for its origin. They were coming from inside the car, from some kind of radio on the dashboard.

“A police radio station?” You asked to yourself.

“Santiago, this is the sheriff, have you found anything in the Gates mansion? Over.”

“Negative, sheriff, it's clean. They haven't been here. Over.”

“I don't trust that crazy Gates. There has to be a clue somewhere... I'm going there immediately. Even if I have to search brick by brick we'll find something, you can be sure, over and out.”

The station stopped playing and you kept thinking. I was sure you had an idea, but you couldn't get it out of your mind due to nervousness. As you leaned out of the car again, the jingle in your pockets caught your attention again. You reached in, pulling out another, smaller set of keys. Now yes, the idea shook your nerves.

“I got it, I got it! Hold on, Laurel, I'm going to save you,” you said with a confident smile, getting into the car and driving again.

You just had to connect the dots. Tyler was the sheriff's son, the sheriff was going to be at the Gates mansion, and you had the keys to his house. That was the place where you should go, the place to heal Laurel, there would be medicines and bandages, everything you needed.

You didn't take long to get the sheriff’s house. As you could, you got Laurel out of the car and led her to the door.

“Come on, come on…” You said, arguing with yourself, trying all the keys. “Well…” You sighed when the door opened and you left behind the fierce dog that guarded the house.

Nervous, you left Laurel sitting on a sofa and ran to the bathroom, looking for everything you needed which, fortunately, was waiting for you inside a small closet.

“(Y/N)…”Laurel said when you crouched down in front of her, unbuttoning her clothes to discover her wound. Laurel was pale, she was sweating, she had a fever. It was wrong, but you were going to remedy that. You nodded and swallowed as the wound was exposed. It didn't look good, but it wasn't deadly, at least if you did things right.

“Here, this will bring down your fever,” you said, giving her a cold medicine and a glass of water. “Now let's clean this up...”

Laurel took the pill. She was breathing heavily and she was looking at you strangely, almost without blinking.

“I don't understand it, (Y/N)…” She whispered, wincing as you ran a damp cloth over her shoulder. “Why are you helping me?”

“I don't know…” You said with a sigh, pouring more disinfectant on her shoulder. “I guess you're right, I'm a stupid outcast.”

“I’m… I'm sorry for the things I said to you, (Y/N),” Laurel said, moving her good arm to your cheek. You couldn't help but shed a tear, but you were focused on healing her.

“I really don't understand you, Laurel…” You sighed, picking up some bandages. “First you tell me that you never loved me, that I was just a toy for you, and then I find out that you told your Hyde to protect me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Tyler told me, I ran into him coming out of the conservatory, after you tried to kill me,” you said, cutting a piece of bandage, calculating how much you'd need. Laurel laughed, shaking her head. You frowned.

“I wasn't the one who put the syringe in your throat…” She said, with a bit more color on her face. "Besides, that wasn't nightshade poison. It was just a sleeping drug.”

You raised your eyebrows looking nervously to all sides.

“A sleeping drug?” You asked, extending her arm.

She nodded, wincing as you began to bandage her wound.

“Just… I was just going to put you to sleep, keep you out of everything until it was over… I could never hurt

“My love? Damn, Laurel... You told me you didn't love me, that I disgusted you, no matter how much I knew you were lying, those things hurt, they hurt to death. And now that I have saved you from being caught, or worse, you tell me that yes, it was a lie, you call me my love as if you had never said anything you said...” You said angrily, sobbing, wiping your tears as you passed the bandages around her shoulder.

“Don't you understand, (Y/N)? I just wanted to protect you. I wanted you to get away from me before it was too late…. The… The spell I cast to revive Crackstone… It was dangerous. He was not a Hyde to be ordered around. If he had met you.. He would have… Oh my God, just thinking about it…”

You looked at her. Her expression was sincere, but you still had reservations. That deranged look from a few hours ago had been shocking, you wouldn't forget it easily.

Using scissors, you cut off the excess of bandage and made sure it was tight.

“That's it... You'll survive...” You said, sitting on the sofa with your hands on your forehead.

“(Y/N), it hurts me to have told you those things, but I don't regret it, it was what I had to do to save you, to protect you… Ouch…” She protested as she tried to get closer to you.

“Don't move…” You whispered, not daring to look into her eyes. You knew that if you did, you would fall into her trap again.

Laurel ignored you and with another hiss of pain, she stepped in front of you, taking your trembling hands.

“My girl… I love you, I really do. I just wanted everyone to pay for what they did to my family... But I never wanted to hurt you... I just wanted you not to be present, for you and me to run away from Nevermore and start a new life together... Wasn't that what you wanted?”

“Of course it was... But not with blood-stained hands. Not at the cost of my friend’s lives...” You sighed, holding tightly her hands, while she caressed you with her thumbs.

“Well, that's not going to happen anymore... I've failed. There is no remedy…” She said, head down. “I know I have to pay for everything I did...”

“You should,” you said coldly, leaning involuntarily towards her lips. She smiled sadly and kissed you softly. It didn't seem like a kiss of love, more like one of regret, a goodbye.

“I will, honey. I, I don't want you to suffer anymore for me. I'll turn myself in to Sheriff Galpin and explain that you didn't have anything to do with it, I’m gonna tell them I made you do it, and…

“What?! How are you going to turn yourself in?” You asked furiously.

“I can't do anything else, darling, it's what I owe you, what I owe everyone for my mistakes.”

You got up from the sofa, shaking your head. You laughed nervously and waved your arms desperately.

“After I risked my life to protect you? After I managed to heal you so you didn't have to go to a hospital? After leaving everything for you, being willing to go with you to the end of the world? Now you say you're going to give yourself up?”

“Honey…” she sighed, stunned by your reaction.

“No, Laurel, you won't. I know... I know what you've done is horrible, but I still can't... I can't stop loving you... Even if I want to... I know... I know you were lying, that you didn't mean it... In the bottom of my heart I knew it. That's why I... That's why I don't want to lose you...”

“But, (Y/N), will you leave everything behind for such a horrible person like me?” She asked, getting up with a pained sigh.

“It's what people do for love…” You said, crying again. Laurel was silent, but after a few seconds, she pulled you into a tight hug, as tight as her strength allowed her.

“My girl... My little girl...” She whispered in your ear, crying too. “I don’t deserve this…”

“I don't deserve a life without you either…” You said, letting yourself be enveloped by her caresses.

“(Y/N), I love you… I love you so much…” Laurel said, kissing you lovingly, tenderly.

“Me too... Although it won't be easy for me to forgive you...” You said, moving away from her hypnotizing kisses. “Besides, where are we going to go? All the police are looking for us, it's a matter of time before they issue a search and capture order...”

“I have… Well, my family had a property in South Carolina, an old farm that they used to spend their vacations. Officially sold. No one will look for us there...”

“South Carolina...” You repeated, little by little getting used to the idea that you really wanted to go with her, that everything that was happening was nothing more than one of your usual arguments, a fight between lovers, not an attempt of genocide.

“Yes... It's a secluded place, in the middle of nature... I know I have no right to ask you but...”

“Please, I've already told you yes, that I want to go with you,” you said, somewhat amused. She smiled, wincing and placing her hand on her shoulder. “But how are we going to get out of here?”

She smiled, holding back the pain she had to feel.

“I have a car parked 3 miles from here. We can walk. In it I have everything we need.”

“Everything we need?”

“I already told you that I had thought of going with you, that I love you, and that I didn't want anything bad to happen to you. Do you want more evidence? In the car I have everything you like, clothes in your style... I never thought of killing you, only of loving you, of escaping with you...”

“Okay, but be prepared to treat me like a queen. You're going to have to work hard for me to forget all of this. I'm not going to clean, or cook, or shop, or…”

A kiss interrupted you, a kiss with a smile.

“I will do everything possible to make you forgive me, (Y/N). Now all I want is to love you, to make you feel loved.”

You nodded, looking for a million explanations in your mind that would give you the reason for the decision you were making. There was nothing that did it, only the love you felt, the love of your broken heart, which little by little began to mend.

#marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #wednesday #ms thornhill #oneshot #laurel gates

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harmonyckrs · 9 months ago

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Act 3, Scene 1 of Twisted Veronaville: Some New Opponents Arrive

THE LAST PAGE

Tank: Ow...huh? Where am I?...Buck? Are you okay?

Buck: Yeah, I'm fine!...did we get kidnapped?

Tank: Last thing I remember was us walking home...

???: Hello, Tank...and Buck. We are the Knights of Order, and we brought you here for a very important mission.

Tank: Huh? What-

???: We need you to find and kidnap your brother Ripp, and bring him to us...he's being used by two criminals who are trying to mess with everyone's fates...and then we're going to need you to break up a couple and set up another in order to restore normalcy to Veronaville.

Tank: Fates?...Veronaville?...huh?

???: Just do what we say! You seem to be good at that, anyway.

Buck: Tank, I don't like-

Tank: Sure. I'll do it.

Buck: What?

Tank: If it gets us both out of here, then I might as well.

Hamza: Good day, (sir/ma'am)! I was wondering if you've seen a man with dark skin about this tall? Unkempt hair that's slightly over his eyes and probably wearing a colorful shirt with a silver necklace and little silver earrings?

Bianca: Don't think so, sorry. Is there a reason you're asking?

Cyd: Nope. Why?

Kent: What's it to you?

Hamza: He's my brother. I've been looking for him for...forever. Have you seen him? I have a photo, if you'd like.

Kent: (Wait, that's Aktu! He didn't tell me that he had a brother, though!). I've never seen that man in my life.

Bianca: Still haven't, but I'll let you know if I see anything!

Cyd: Oh, he looks a lot like my ex. Haven't seen him since I moved here from Strangetown, though...

Hamza: Okay, thanks! I've got to go now, but maybe we'll talk again later!

Little did the Knights of Order know, their actions had summoned a unwanted man into the town of Veronaville - one that would be a threat to both sides of the Terrestrial family.

General Buzz: I told that man that he couldn't take my eldest son, and what does he do?...I'll make him-

Pascal: Buzz?

General Buzz: ...Vidcund? How did you escape my-oh, my bad. Pascal! You look different.

Pascal: (What did he mean by escaping?) Yes...I wanted to try a new look. What are you doing here in Veronaville, General Buzz?

General Buzz: Rescuing my son.

Pascal: (Son and not "sons," huh? Still the same as always.) Would you like my help? I've been getting familiar with the area of Veronaville, and I can help you track him down with my knowledge.

General Buzz: Well, you've always been the most respectable out of your siblings...sure. Why not?

Pascal: (I'll have to cancel that meeting with Aktu and Sita. This is far more important...) Wonderful! I'll take you back to my place.

Pascal: So yes, that's everything I know. How are you enjoying the food? I tried to follow one of the recipes Lazlo gave me.

General Buzz: It's pretty good. A bit of a sour taste, though.

Pascal: (That would be the poison.) That's a shame. I'll be sure to put in less lemon next time.

Pascal: I'm glad you're enjoying the food regardless, though. I've never seen anyone eat that quickly.

General Buzz: Haven't eaten in about eight hours.

Pascal: (The exact amount of time you have left before the poison takes your life.) I see...do you feel anything?

General Buzz: Huh?...well, I do feel a bit tired, but that's probably from the trip here. Why do you ask?

Pascal: Well...sometime before I came here, I visited Loki in jail to confront him about killing my baby. And there was something very interesting he told me...

Pascal: He said you were the one who gave Tycho to him.

General Buzz: Yeah, and?...I thought we were supposed to be allies. If this is the only reason you came to talk, I'm going to leave.

General Buzz: ...Why can't I move?

Pascal: Don't worry about that, Buzz. Remember when you paid off the police to do nothing about you speeding on the road while drunk and hitting Nervous and Ophelia?

General Buzz: Yeah, so? I'm the General! I practically run that town!

Pascal: No, you don't! Nobody in Strangetown likes you! Your own children don't even like you! You're a failure and a disgrace, on top of being a murderer and child kidnapper!

General Buzz: At least I have a child.

Pascal: ...Hmph.

General Buzz: Why are you dragging me outside now?

Pascal: It's a nice night. Thought you'd want to see the view of the stars before I bury you alive.

General Buzz: Revenge isn't going to bring back Tycho and Nervous.

Pascal: You're right. So since there's nothing that can bring them back, there's nothing that can save you.

General Buzz: They're...going to find out it's you...

Pascal: I covered all my tracks. I deliberately came here earlier than the other Knights of Order so that everyone would assume I went missing, and you came here in search for Tank. For all anyone knows, you went missing in search of him.

General Buzz: But...Vidcund...

Pascal: He has an alibi. He's in Strangetown, and don't think I didn't hear you when you asked me how I "escaped." You have him captive, don't you? If he's still there, then there's no way he could've traveled eight hours to Veronaville just to kill a man.

General Buzz: ...

Pascal: Now, before I pour dirt on your face, tell me where you're holding him.

General Buzz: ...Fuck...you.

Pascal: Fine. Then tell Olive I say hi when you see her in Hell.

While General Buzz dies a slow and painful death six feet under, the patriarchs of the Capp and Monty were about to be alerted of their grandsons' actions.

Romeo: Nonno! Nonno! I just saw something horrible!

Patrizio: Ah, lemme guess...monster under the bed.

Romeo: No! I'm not a baby anymore, Nonno! Mercutio was kissing a...a...

Romeo: (He kept my secret for me...but I can't do this! Those Capps are evil! And he's going against the very own advice he gave me! This is for his own good!)

Romeo: A Capp! And Tybalt of all of them!

Patrizio: (HE'S GAY?) WHAT? No child living under my roof will be a...a...

Patrizio: A Capp lover!

Patrizio: Consort must be up to his old tricks again...

Consort: Tybalt, may I speak to you?

Tybalt: Yes, Grandfather?

Consort: Patrizio told me that Romeo told him that you were kissing Mercutio.

Tybalt: Why does it matter to you? Hermia gets to bring her boyfriend over, but I can't?

Consort: Hermia is a GIRL. And Puck isn't a MONTY. There is a difference, Tybalt, and I thought you of all people would know that. You already saw what happened with Kent.

Tybalt: ...

Consort: It's alright. I'll let you remain in the house, on one condition.

Tybalt: Which is?

Consort: Once you are to turn eighteen, I'll be setting you up in an arranged marriage.

THE NEXT DAY

#ts2 #veronaville #sims 2 gameplay #general buzz grunt #pascal curious #patrizio monty #consort capp #romeo monty #tybalt capp #tank grunt #buck grunt #kent capp #bianca monty #cyd roseland

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averyvmontgomery-archive · 2 years ago

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Who: @pirouetteinthedark

Where: Ballet Studio

Ever since Ophelia and Avery's second date, the pair of them had been hanging out a lot more. And by a lot more, it meant the amount of time they spent together was bordering on excessive. There was a reason why people joked that lesbians were ready to U-Haul after a second date. Avery was getting attached. Fast. She couldn't help it, between the fun conversations, the cuddles, and the amazing sex, it was hard not to get addicted to Ophelia. She wanted to spend all her time with her and with nothing else to do, she really had nothing stopping her if Ophelia herself didn't mind.

That was why Avery was sitting on the sidelines, watching Ophelia as she practiced. This wasn't the first time she had caught a glimpse of Ophelia dancing ballet, she had picked her up from the studio a few times by now, but this was the first time she was invited to stay for longer than her just being too early when picking Ophelia up. She watched with complete awe as Ophelia moved her body in ways Avery couldn't even comprehend. As beautiful as it was, it was also making Avery think very sinful thoughts. Not only did her outfit leave nothing to the imagination, Avery was beginning to believe she hadn't used Ophelia's body to its full potential yet.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Ophelia approached and she stood up, handing Ophelia her water bottle. "My lady," she playfully greeted, giving her a little bow.

#ophelia

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practically-an-x-man · 11 months ago

Note

🌳🌿🍂🍄🌾🌷🌺🌼🌻 for Gia, Ophelia, and Madison?

Ooooh thank you so much!! I really appreciate it!!

16 OC Questions

🌳 What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

Gia: She's got a lot of compassion, but also a lot of fear. She'll step in to help or comfort a stranger, but only if there's no potential danger to herself in the process.

Ophelia: Immediately moves to help, regardless of potential danger or the familiarity of the person. If she starts making judgements about who's 'worth' helping, she's a pretty shit hero.

Madison: Would help a friend or loved one immediately, but would walk past a stranger- unless she's with the other X-Men and technically "on the clock", in which case she'd help out of obligation. Most of the time, she tends to keep to her close inner circle, and doesn't trust others easily.

🌿 What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarassment?

Gia: That she has the abilities to become a great superhero if she chose to. She tells herself she's too weak, her abilities wouldn't be useful, but the truth is that having her life force bound outside her body could make her an absolute tank of a character as long as she keeps the clover thing hidden. But she won't admit this, because she's terrified of conflict, especially being noticed by HYDRA again

Ophelia: Refuses to admit that she has very human limits when it comes to battles. She's tough, but she doesn't have any innate powers, and her body can only take so much abuse before it quits on her. She's already experienced this with her knee, but she doesn't want to admit she'll have to retire from hero work at some point because she genuinely loves what she does.

Madison: That she doesn't enjoy being a loner. She does recognize this later in her story, but only after a lot of hardship and finding connections in the X-Men. She thought she was meant to be a loner, and comfortable there, but the truth is that she was afraid of being hurt again and pushing people away meant she could get the hurting over with instead of being surprised.

🍂 How does your OC think they will die? Does death scare them? Is there any reason for this?

Gia: Fire in her plant shop - it's about the only thing that would take out all her clover at once, and fast enough that she couldn't find a way to intervene in time. Death terrifies her, which is why she hardly ever leaves her shop.

Ophelia: Battle against a supervillain - it's how most heroes go out, anyway. It doesn't exactly scare her anymore, she's come to terms with it, she just hates the uncertainty that it could happen at literally any point.

Madison: Couldn't even begin to speculate, since she's been in so many absolutely bonkers scenarios. Death scares her a reasonable amount, like any person, but not excessively. She's very pragmatic and survival-focused, coming to terms with her own mortality happened very quickly when she first started living out in the woods.

🍄 How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

Gia: Honestly, wouldn't have much reaction at first. She's the type of person who's always chipper and helpful as a mask for any deeper emotions, so she buries her grief subconsciously for a long time before it comes bursting out.

Ophelia: Loves her family more than anything, grieves incredibly heavily but tries to bury herself in her work as a means of ignoring it. She spent a lot of her life in this way, since she's had to grieve so many people, and it led to her workaholic tendencies even when she isn't dealing with grief.

Madison: It would shatter her completely. She's worked so hard to fight her way back to having a family, any loss there would destroy her. It already destroyed her to lose her brother, but it would be worse to go through it all again.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

Gia: HYDRA operative - rather than fleeing her trauma, she turned to embrace it as a means of survival, and gradually grew from just using it to survive to genuinely believing that the things she did were right.

Ophelia: Charybdis.

Madison: Corrupted love - so desperate to protect her family that she lets the rest of the world burn around her to keep them safe. The villain in Smoke and Mirrors is intentionally designed to be that sort of villain, to parallel her.

🌷 What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

Gia: Hates how terrified she is to leave the house. She'd love to go to a convention with friends, or take a day-trip to the Renaissance Faire like she used to, or take a road trip somewhere, but she's too terrified of something happening to her clover and her being too far to do something about it. She's proud of herself for not letting her trauma with HYDRA make her bitter or guarded, she feels like she's maintained herself despite the horrors she experienced.

Ophelia: They're one and the same - she hates that she'll never be able to match up to "real supers" like Spider-Man in terms of power, and hates that she has to build everything herself in order to even come close, but also loves that she's been able to make something of herself without any crutches or outside aid, and that she chose to become a superhero instead of having responsibility dumped on her.

Madison: Hates that she's always waiting for something to fall apart, that she can never convince herself just to enjoy life and accept that the good times will stick around for a while. But she loves who she is as a whole, her personality, and that she doesn't have to dull herself down for the right people to love her.

🌺 In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

Gia: If her own safety was threatened - as in her real safety, her clover, not just injury to her physical body - she would be like an animal in a cage, and there's really nothing she wouldn't be capable of in terms of violence. She'll die before she goes back to that life. That's an extreme situation, though.

Ophelia: Commits acts of violence frequently. She does have some morals, but she's nowhere near as strict with them as some of the other supers around her. She's never killed someone before, but she could if it came down to it.

Madison: Also commits acts of violence regularly, and doesn't feel bad about it. She could kill someone if it was a matter of her own or her loves ones' safety, though it would definitely hit her hard and remind her of her past trauma.

🌼 Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

Gia: Anything from HYDRA, but specifically when they cut off her leg. It was not only astoundingly painful (they sedated her, but her body burned through the anesthesia), it represented a turning point where she could never really go back to the way things used to be.

Ophelia: She wakes up one day to find herself back in her lab at MIT, and watches herself walk through the motions of stabilizing her fuel prototype. It's both a nightmare of reliving her death, and a nightmare that her whole second chance didn't exist (her father and Norman didn't come back, she doesn't have Peter, etc.)

Madison: Reliving what happened with her brother, which is bad enough, but then the dream shifts to where the same thing happens with Alex, the triplets, her other friends at the X-Mansion, basically everyone she loves.

🌻 What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

Gia: "They're not curing anything." - she got into HYDRA by signing on for a study in genes linked to cancer (since her younger sister passed away from leukemia), and obviously she'd stay away from that with a forty-foot pole if she knew what was really going on there. Advice she needs now.... "don't be afraid to live your life".

Ophelia: "Family above all else" - as an adult, she feels like she didn't treasure her time with her loved ones enough while she had them, so she'd remind her younger self to cherish those moments. Advice she needs now... "It's not a moral failing to take a break."

Madison: "Don't shut yourself down" - it's advice she needed then, and advice she still needs, since her default reaction to dramatic change or traumatizing events in her life is to pull away entirely and do a hard reset. It's not healthy, it's not pleasant, and it rips her away from all the people that love her.

#my friends!!!#answered asks #ask game #ophelia octavius #madison douglas #gia pantazis

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derelictlovefool · 1 year ago

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She was born...

Character(s): Rachel Jessop/Faith Seed, Tracey Lader, Joseph Seed, John Seed, Jacob Seed

Summary: Continuation of this fic! All focusing on our favourite lady <3

Warning(s): Canon typical violence, child abuse, child neglect, Homophobia, Religious themes

Rachel was born gasping for breath, grabbing at the air, writhing and gulping greedily. It was a pitiful sight. She was cradled to an unfeeling chest and her Daemon was held under sharp dark wings. She was swaddled and constricted, arms unable to move and placed in a cold crib out of sight and out of mind. She was alone for a long time, she cried until no more sound came out, it wouldn't be the last time.

Ophelia hid from the adults in the house, she could hear their whispering about her and the looks they shot her. Something was wrong with her, with them. That's what they said. But what wrong could a newborn commit?

When Rachel was one Ophelia started to change, from one form to the next and she never stopped. Every minute it was something new and her parents Daemons hissed and told her to be still. But she couldn't. Rachel couldn't either. She crawled with no destination, grabbed onto the walls and pulled herself up stairs on shaky, pudgy limbs. She fell, many times, but her cries were met with harsh scolding rather than warm reassuring cooes. One fall twisted a bone and she ended up in the hospital, after that a woman would come by once a month to see her and Ophelia.

Rachel liked the woman, she was the reason she got new clothes and toys, even if they got taken away not much later. Ophelia liked the woman's Daemon, he was a kind old Bassett hound who didn't bat her away when she swiped at his ears playfully. They eventually came around less and less until they were nothing but a foggy memory. As she grew she had a lot of foggy memories, blurred faces with garbled names that became nothing but static in her ears.

When Rachel was four she got taken to a daycare, she liked it there. She liked playing in the sand pit and having food to eat that wasn't days old crackers and burnt bacon. Ophelia didn't like it as much, she stayed hidden in her coat the whole time. She only got to go to daycare for three months before her mother said she couldn't afford it. Rachel cried, she didn't understand, how could she? She cried until her mother slapped her. Hard enough to leave a bruise. She hid under her bed and Ophelia stayed close to her chest. They alway flinched when her mother raised her hand after that. No one seemed to notice, or they didn't care.

School wasn't as nice as daycare, most teachers were kind but one of them had a face matching her eagle Daemon and she always hissed like an angry cat. She seemed to give Rachel bad grades no matter how hard she worked on her assignments. The other kids teased her, made fun of her clothes and unkempt hair. The other Daemons called Ophelia names, laughing at how she couldn't stay still and how she tripped over herself constantly. Rachel and Ophelia decided they hated school. But, it was better than being at home.

Rachel made her first friend when she was ten, a girl covered in freckles with a hyperactive Daemon—they both had a stutter and a slight accent Rachel liked the sound of. They spent their breaks making daisy chains and talking about what they wanted to do when they grew up, get out of Hope County and move to the city maybe. Rachel told her parents about her, too much, too often. She couldn't have known the teachers thought it worrisome enough to phone them. She and Ophelia were told not to go near her and her Daemon anymore but they didn't listen, it wasn't fair, why should they?

Rachel got into her first fight when a boy knocked her friend over into the mud, she saw red, balled up her small fists and broke the boys nose. Ophelia bit his Daemon, taking a chunk out of its ear. It felt good. They had felt in control for a few sweet moments despite being the most out of control they had ever been. Rachel got sent home and her parents screamed, she cried but they didn't listen—They never listened. She was grounded and suspended for two weeks. Those two weeks are hell, alone with her mother during the day and still given piles of schoolwork to do yet having no time to do any of it. Hard to write an essay when you're cleaning the basement. When she went back to school her friend was gone, her family had enough of the harrassment and they moved.

One of them got to move to the city, one of them got out.

Rachel was happy for her friend but mostly she was sad. Ophelia hid in her pocket and didn't move around as much, she was sad too. She wished they would have taken her away too.

In highschool she made friends, surface level friends that gave her nicknames and gave her their answers for homework and hung out with her on the weekend. A boy asked her out in junior year and she said yes because that's what the movies said to do, what her friends said to do. But he smelt like dirty socks and too much bodyspray and when he tried to kiss her on their third date she threw up on his shoes. Ophelia never lets her live it down, neither do her friends.

She got her first proper crush in her sophomore year, a girl with curly brown hair and eyes like maple syrup. She didn't tell anyone, none of the other girls talked about girls the way she thought about them. Ophelia would jump on her desk and talk to her Daemon. They both liked the same show and they had the same favourite character. Rachel bumped into her in the hall and could barely get any words out. She smelt like cherries and vanilla.

Rachel dropped out after a school dance, a school dance she invited her crush too. It was a stupid, innocent mistake with stupidly big consequences. She was rejected, she could live with that. Part of highschool. But her ex found out, plastered her name with a choice set of slurs all over the school and social media. Her friends didn't look at her the same, saying they didn't know she was 'like that'. What did that even mean? She was exactly the same. She was just Rachel.

Her parents had the worst reaction. Her mother cried like she'd been found dead in the river. Her father held her shoulder like a vice and he prayed loudly as his Daemon hissed at Ophelia like it was all her fault. Rachel ran out of the house during the night and she didn't go back, she didn't want to know what they'd do if she ever did.

Then she met Tracey.

Her sweet, good, funny, brave and wonderful Tracey. She was her confidant, her partner, her one good thing. Her hair was soft but too thick for her to run her fingers through and her eyes were deeper than the night sky, Rachel could stare into them for hours. Tracey and her Daemon Isa are everything Rachel and Ophelia wished they could be. Strong, confident, unafraid and self assured. Rachel gets lost in Tracey's passionate tirades about the future, Ophelia got too close to Isa, touched her too freely. She even brushed against Tracey's hand once, the feeling against her fur gave Rachel a shock through her veins she'd never felt before. Tracey and Isa never minded. Isa never touched Rachel though.

Ophelia and Isa settled one night when Rachel and Tracey curled up under the stars at Moonflower Trailer Park, on top of that old bus with their fingers interlocked. It wasn't a huge event like adults said it was, it just was. It was the calmest they'd ever felt, warm despite the chill of the air and both content.

But that contentedness didn't last, Rachel was unsteady, she and Ophelia always had been. And living out of a trailer with no money to her name left Rachel vulnerable and scared. Her world crumbled despite the smile she kept on her face and she struggled to figure out her place in the world. She kept it hidden from Tracey, she couldn't let her see her so weak. She found solace in a needle, despite Ophelia's protests and Tracey's horror upon finding her.

Tracey took her home, to her parents, she didn't know what else to do.

Rachel hated her for it, but only for a little while.

Her parents didn't help, they tied her to the bed and made her go cold turkey. It's the most pain she's ever been in. Ophelia was locked in a kernel in the corner of the room, it felt like torture. There's calm after the storm. She's let out of the restraints and Ophelia stays glued to her chest. And Rachel got better. For a little while. She ran away again after her Father tried to send her to a conversion camp, one of thise sick places she heard you don't really ever come back from mentally. She didn't tell Tracey where she was staying until she promised not to take her home again, to never break her trust again.

Tracey held her as she slept off her another high, Isa was hesitant to curl around a shivering Ophelia. Tracey's hands shook, Rachel's breaths were wheezy and uneven. She wouldn't leave her again, she said, but those were only words and she was only human.

Freedom from her frazzled mind came in the form of Joseph Seed, a man with eyes that looked right through her and hands that cradled her face like she was an angel and not just a pathetic, lost human being. His Daemon bundled Ophelia up in her arms and called her child, the lightness in her chest was different than when she was with Tracey. It was total. It was infinite. Tracey didn't trust the man Rachel called Father so eagerly, but she just didn't understand yet. She would, just like Rachel would.

Each sermon she was in the front pew, Ophelia beside her as they both fell further into his grand words and promises of walking them unto Eden. Her addiction didn't dissapear but was replaced by a drug she helped create. This one was holy, made so the pain of the world was easier to bear. She was given a new name; Faith. She was to be the project's Faith, the guiding light to those who were like her. Scared and weak and alone. She would now be their strength.

But that strength came with a price. The Bliss she helped create came with a price. Ophelia had shrunk away as Joseph put his hands on her, shushed her Daemon like one would a baby. It felt odd, it wasn't painful like she thought it would be. He was gentle. It didn't feel like that electric shock when Tracey had touched her, it felt like a steady warmth. Even as John began the procedure and injected them both with Bliss, even as Jacob put them in opposite sides of the machine she helped make. That was their final trial, they would be fully accepted into the family after that. And they were.

But they were different.

Faith couldn't feel Ophelia and Ophelia couldn't feel her either. Cradling her Daemon to her chest gave her no warmth or comfort like it had for their whole lives, they both cried but couldn't truly feel it. That empty feeling got worse but Faith smiled and thanked the Father for his gift. This was her new life, her new life where she and her Daemon were separated. This would be for the best. She just had to be patient, even as Ophelia's eyes didn't look at her warmly anymore and her shaking hands weren't steadied by running through her soft fur. Even after they slept in different rooms.

Tracey didn't see it how she did, didn't understand it was necessary, once she figured it out, she was horrified. She shook Faith by her shoulders, tried to convince her they needed to leave but it was too late for that. She was Faith, the Herald of the Henbane River and beloved sister of the Project at Eden's Gate.

She was right where she needed to be.

#Far Cry 5 #Faith Seed #Daemon AU Tag #Oneshot Tag #Far Cry Tag #i'm happy with how this one turned out!#so sorry for the mix of past and present tense I don't know what's wrong with my brain :“> forgive me i'm just a lil guy

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