#wren: self para

[theartofruling]

Ghostly Vengeance || Wren Self Para

Who: Wren Petrova

Where: Night Club in Eastland

Description: Wren performs for the first time in years, only to be met by the ghost of her ex-husband. Trigger Warnings: Domestic abuse, murder, death

Wren paced in her makeshift dressing room as she prepared for what was supposed to be a lowkey show. After ending her music career after the death of her abusive ex-husband, she was finally ready to return to it years later. Of course, being a mom and High Priestess came first, but she needed this. She owed this to her fans. She also owed it to herself. She wouldn’t be able to get back to who she was without fully healing. 

Her late husband, Ian, had broken her physically and emotionally. The physical abuse meant she couldn’t do as many shows and appearances. The emotional abuse broke her confidence and soon she would never utter another lyric for years. After his death, she wrote songs and tinkered with melodies, but never sung. 

It wasn’t until recently she had the itch for change. She wasn’t always so quiet and soft spoken and reserved. She had been famous for something other than her family name. She had been at the height of her career. Wren had felt invincible and unchallenged, in a league of her own before that marriage. Now, she had the opportunity to reclaim her life. 

The show was supposed to be small. But she had hundreds of people here for her. Loyal fans who had been waiting eagerly for her return to music. She was debuting two new songs and two from her old life. 

When she took the stage, the roar from the crowd was almost deafening. “Thank you all for coming. It’s been a while. And I’ve started working on an album that can fill in the missing blanks, but I’m happy to be back on this stage! My nerves are running wild so I’m going to need your help with these songs before I get to my new stuff.” 

Once she started singing and the crowd still knew every word, it eased her nerves and self doubt. It was like partying with several hundred old friends. Wren felt at ease on stage again. So much so that tears fell down her cheeks. “This…you all don’t know how it makes me feel that you still know all the words. These next two songs are all about reclaiming my power.” 

Wren felt her nerves but her first song Cinderella’s Dead started up. She strutted and danced across the stage making eye contact with those she could see. By the end of the song the crowd was singing the chorus with her, “I forgot I was a bad bitch, tragic.” 

When the song ended she was grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve truly missed this. But we’re going to leave on a high note.” The music boomed through her ear piece, as she danced across the stage. Her song Not My Fault started up. She chuckled as she confidently sang, “Yeah I’m back bitch, are you done?” She sang with the attitude and confidence she had to adopt an alter ego to achieve. Looking out in the audience to see people dancing and smiling and enjoying the song reassured her that this was what she was supposed to be doing. 

After the show she did a brief meet and greet with several fans before she had to start settling down preparing to head home for the true celebration with Jakovan and the kids. She called him when she got off stage. “Hey Mish, I wish you could have been here! They loved the songs and they still knew every word of my old stuff!” She had tears in her eyes as she was still overcome with emotion. “I had someone taking video for you so I’ll send it in a moment. I can’t wait to be home to celebrate with you and the kids! I’m going to take a few more pictures with fans and I should be there soon! Two hours max.” 

That was the plan until a familiar face showed up. He was last in line and seeing his smiling face cause a lump in her throat. It was Hunter, Ian’s younger brother. 

“When I heard, I couldn’t believe it. You finally found your voice after everything my brother put you through,” he said. 

Wren had always liked Hunter. There were moments when she wished he had been the one she married. He was kind and sweet and he had no idea what his brother had done to her. She eagerly hugged him. “Hunter! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since we spoke I just…after everything I needed time to find some semblance of myself again.” 

“You got married again.” He sounded almost sad. 

“I did. I have two beautiful kids. Twins.” 

He grinned. “I’ve kept tabs. I’ve got the clippings. You know, I have always been proud of you. And I’ve always thought you ended up with the wrong brother. I would have protected you. Held onto every precious moment we had because when you look at someone you have this way of making them feel important and loved. I’m still chasing that and I haven’t found it.” 

Wren’s brows rose and she looked around making sure no one could overhear and misconstrue their conversation. “Would you like to come back to my dressing room to chat?” 

The guards followed them back but Wren assured them it was okay to stay outside the door. But once the door was closed behind them something was muttered and Hunter screamed out, “Wren, run!” 

Before she could react, his posture changed. The cruel smile she knew Ian to wear perched onto his lips. “Enough of that sappy shit. I knew he wanted to fuck my wife. And you were no saint. Deep down, you wanted to fuck him too. Don’t lie you little bitch.” 

Wren knew those words, that tone. Ian was in Hunter’s body. Ian had come back to harm her. She ran for the door, but it wouldn’t open. She screamed but the guards didn’t react. “Perks of my brother being a witch.” He used telekinesis to toss her against a wall. 

Her body clattered to the floor with a thud. Wren was a pacifist. She didn’t believe in violence and she didn’t know how to defend herself. But she had her babies at home. As he lifted her telekinetically again, slamming her against another wall, the fall broke her arm.

She lay there with tears streaming down her face. But she had to do something to be able to get home to her kids. She had to survive. “Coward! You used to use your hands to put me in my place. It made you feel like more of a man than Hunter, remember?” 

She had to provoke him. Get him close. She only had one shot to save herself. “You’re right. I did wish you were Hunter. Every day of our miserable marriage.” That earned her a kick to her abdomen. One and then another but she grabbed his ankle letting out all of the anger she had built up at him taking her life from her. All the anger of enduring every single beating flowed through her and came through her fingertips as her electrokinesis. Electric currents churned out of her, shocking him over and over, but she hadn’t used the ability defensively and she didn’t know how much was too much when he fell to the ground limp. She crawled to the door, using her magic reversal to remove the spell that kept her locked in and the guards unable to hear her. 

When Hunter’s body didn’t move and when she didn’t see his chest rising and falling, Wren sobbed. What had she just done? She had killed Hunter while trying to keep Ian away from her. 

She didn’t dwell. Her mind raced as did her tears for having to use violence and having to kill. She might have been the nice, quiet pacifist, but she was still a Hartwell. Wren knew what she had to do now. She formed a plan and one thing was for certain she had to keep Jakovan and Westland out of it. This night had too much buzz around it to involve him now. She made a call to the one person who she knew could help her - Olivier. 

[bah-circus]

could you do a lvl 3 mixtive of the two songs Tick Tack and lucky girl syndrome, both by illit? with noh yunah and lee wonhee as their names, xey/them/pixels as their pronouns and feminine and neutral terms?? thank you

Of course dear audience! We have heard your request and have found a suitable performer for you! We hope this performance suits your needs, but you are free to make any adjustments you wish.

❣︎For Our Next Act, Please Welcome,,,❣︎

Tick-Tack + Lucky Girl Syndrome Mixtive!!!

°·⊱ Name: Noh Yunah, Lee Wonhee, Clover, Dallae / Dolly, Trix, Wren, Royal, Tokki, Chuu

°·⊱ Age: 15 - 17

°·⊱ Race/Species: Human [transRaccoonHybrid]

°·⊱ Source: Tick-Tack by ILLIT & Lucky Girl Syndrome by ILLIT 

°·⊱ Role: Co-Host, Confidence Booster, ADHD Symptom Holder [If Applicable], Frijon

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Sex: Female

°·⊱ Gender: Hypergirl, Neogirl, Raccoongender, Raccoongirl, Raccogirl, Girlfluffgender, Cloudic, Snugglegender, Starcomfic, Fluffcomfaesic, Starcloudgender, Softstaric, Hyperfem, Magigirl, Pollyfeminine

°·⊱ Pronouns: Xey/Xem; They/Them; Pixel/Pixels; Sh☆/H☆r; It/Its; Shi/Hir; Shy/Hyr; Star/Stars; St☆r/St☆rs; Fluff/Fluffs; Cloud/Clouds; Soft/Softs; ⭐/⭐s; ☆/☆s; Luck/Lucks; Win/Wins

°·⊱ Sexuality: Bisexual, Bi4Bi

°·⊱ Personality: Has a well crafted and organized personality that xey shows others that radiates confidence and optimism. Always encouraging others to believe in themselves and their dreams. Speaks in affirmations and often uses the phrase "everything works out for me." 

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ Nicknames/Titles: The Luckiest Idol, [Prn] Who Always Wins, The Luckiest Girl, [Prn] With Lucky Girl Syndrome

°·⊱ Likes: Manifestation, Positive Thinking, Helping Others Believe in Themselves, Pink Aesthetics, Lucky Charms, Crystals, Journaling, Dancing, Romance Stories

°·⊱ Dislikes: Negative Self-Talk, Pessimism, Limiting Beliefs, Giving Up, Putting Others Down, Bad Luck Streaks

°·⊱ Emoji Sign-Off: 🦝🌱⭐🎀🐾🗑️

°·⊱ Hexcode: #C5D7E2

°·⊱ Typing Quirk: TYPES IN ☆LL C☆PS ☆ND REPL☆CES A’S WITH ☆, SO THEY WOULD TYPE SORT☆ LIKE THIS !! 

────── · · · · ──────

°·⊱ TransIDs: transRaccoonHybrid, transRaccoonEars, transRaccoonTail, permaSuperLucky, mutoGr00med, nullTrauma, permaHappy, permaHyper, transKPopIdol

°·⊱ CisIDs: Korean-American, Pale Skin, Black Hair, Brown Eyes, ADHD, Autism, Hyper, Extrovert, Romantic, Preppy, High School Sweetheart, Hypersexual, PTSD, Sensory Issues [ Auditory ], Braided Jelly-Fish Hair Style

°·⊱ MUDS: Lucky Girl Syndrome [not coined]

°·⊱ Paras: 🥚, 🐙, 🐺🐾, 💤, 💐, ✋, 🧹, 🛐, 👼, 🧃💤, 🔖🌹, 🪜👨👧

°·⊱ Extra: Shojo-Scene Aesthetic IYKYK /silly

°·⊱ Faceclaim: 1 by bananuui on Instagram

I did get a bit 'possessed' while making this one, so I really hope I understood your request, I had so much fun playing with the idea!! I really enjoyed the music too so thank you !!! - Pest Swarm ; Samuel

[headmateelevator]

they forgot to go on anon, this is a repost!!

hold the door!! someone's coming in!

name(s) - Bive , Bee , Smoke , Glass , Vision , Crow , Corvus , Jay , Justice , Wren , Wret , レンズ , Renzu , パラ , Para , 秘密 , Himitsu , Orvin , Flesh

pronouns - shi / hir / ze / zir / xe / xim / black / blacks / ⌛️ / shout / spooks / scare / 🔍 / scruff / ⏰️ / fang / tea / coffee / ☕️ / touch / tone / ring / spirit / para / paranoia / vile / case / files / myst / mystery / sleuth / invest / investigate / hypo / hypothesis / know / knowledge / h? / h?m / sh? / h?r / dream / watch / eye

gender(s) - fem leaning enby , detectivegender , conspiracylexic , paralurdarean , simulationgender , bivecharic , detectimysteric , detectivebodiment , aldersharpdentin , detectiveabomination , Noirfilmic , Detectivic , Deceptective , freakthing.

orientations - nmlnm , sapphic

role(s) - protector , paranoia holder , detective

species - hair lady?

source(s) - BIVE , REGRETEVATOR

emoji(s) - ⌛️ , 🔍 , ☕️

faceclaims -

( 1 - 2 - 3 )

name(s) - Proto , Ace , Aine , Bir , Bliss , Blythe , Curioux , Curios , Darcy , Dhriti , Eve , Jimmil , Jinadeth , Jo , Jocelyn , Joi , Joie , Joy , Judas , Kaddy , Kadi , Kady , Kaemon , Kalea , Kande , Kautik , Kenai , Kuvira , Merakli , Nandini , Omaha , Pehlaj , Perfy , Poornanand , Prahlad , Prima , Qahir , Radman , Rahas , Ranen , Scout , Shael, Silver , Taro , Tavishi , Thaddaeus , To-mo , Ulhas , Urvaksh , Winnie , Winona , Zahal , Zuhayra.

pronouns - They / It / 01 / 01 / 1 / 0 / ai / bit / bot / byte / cheer / circuit / code / curious / cyber / digi / digital / droid / energy / fun / glee / glow / joy / robo / screen / tech / thon / volt / wire / yon / ze / zim / ☺️ / ⚙️ / ⛓️ / 🎊 / 🎛️ / 💭 / 💿 / 📡 / 🔋 / 🔌 / 🔗 / 🔩 / 🚨 / 🪫

gender(s) - enby , AIaffadorationic , Androidic , Androidlikic , Bioamorobotic , Bytegender , Curieual/Furenal/Courageal , Joygender , Joyprogram , Percidouandic , Robodiment , Robodollic , Robogender , Robotthing , Techrobai.

orientations - a-spec , robot4robot

role(s) - caretaker , internal self helper , memory holder

species - robot prototype

source(s) - PROTOTYPE , REGRETEVATOR

emoji(s) - 🤖 , 🦾 , 🦿 , 🌈

faceclaims -

( 1 - 2 - 3 )

[cjwelford-archive]

→ wren and jasper cantwell's home, claret park. self-para.

CJ had never felt like this in Wren’s home before. The living room in her spacious Claret Park home — an area that normally exuded warmth and comfort — was fraught with tension, not helped by Wren’s icy glare from where she stood, leaning against the grand bookcase opposite CJ, sandwiched in between uncomfortable seeming Emery and Jasper.

“Are you sure it’s a real marriage certificate?” She had asked, the first words spoken in over ten minutes when he had broken the news of him and Seb getting married.

“Yeah, it’s like stamped…and everything.” CJ confirmed, shifting slightly. Beside him, Jasper softly sighed. 

Wren squeezed her eyes shut for a second, opening them and shaking her head.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Ceej?” She demanded. He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off before he had a chance to explain himself. “No, you weren’t thinking. You never fucking think!” 

“Wren —,” Jasper began, and it almost sounded like he was about to defend his brother-in-law. However, her glower had him shut up quickly.

It made CJ’s gut churn uncomfortably then, because he did think. He thought about work, he thought about his family, he thought about his friends. 

“People do it all the time…” Was his only defense, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. And it wasn’t, because he and Seb were best friends and adults. Who cared that, according to the state of Nevada, they were husband and husband?

“So?!” Wren snapped, “The general American population is full of idiots, CJ!” She let out another sigh, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Look, this would have been fucking cute or whatever if you were twenty-one, but my god, you are in your thirties now and it’s embarrassing.” 

“What does my age have to do with it?” CJ asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Emery next to him shook his head, as if to beg CJ not to pick a fight; always one to keep the peace, but it seemed like Wren had no patience for peace today.

“You’re thirty-two years old, Carter.” And he winced at the use of his full name. No one ever full-named him. “You’re a college dropout, you work two shitty dead-end jobs to pay for rent in a rundown shithole you share with two other people who are just as bad or as arguably worse in your stupid fucking antics. You have no basic skills such as cooking or cleaning, or insurance. Or savings. You come over every week high as shit and the stench of weed stuck to you lingers long after you leave. Not to mention the shit that you take when you have your stupid fuck-boy-frat-bro ragers that you are way too old for. And now you just got drunkenly married in Vegas! Your life is a fucking mess, Carter. You need to grow the fuck up!” As Wren listed everything allegedly wrong with CJ’s life, she pointed her finger at him for emphasis, each item causing him to flinch. He could recall briefly Emery and Jasper interjecting to calm her down, to no avail, but he couldn’t focus.

Wren had expressed her dissatisfaction with how he had been living his life recently, but he didn’t know how deep it ran. How each word in her voice was laced with resentment. He didn’t respond immediately, and she ran her fingers through her hair, nodding over at Jasper, who said he’d get the company lawyers to look into annulling the marriage, discussing covering the costs of it, just sat there mulling over her words.

If his own sister saw him that way, how did everyone else? His friends? His fucking roommates? Was the fucking mess what Todd saw all those months? For the first time in his entire life, CJ was struggling to breathe, but managed to stand, the shakiness of his legs unfamiliar and disconcerting.

“CJ, sit down.” Wren barked, but he set his jaw, shaking his head.

“No.”

She sighed, and he could see the comment as it whirred through her brain, traveling to leave her lips. Probably something about him being a petulant child. He spoke up before she could further hurt his feelings.

“You’re right, Wren, I’m thirty-two years old. And a lot of thirty-two year olds are still, like, figuring it the fuck out or whatever. But if you want me to grow up, then don’t help me. I can handle sorting my marriage with Seb out myself.” Somehow, he managed to make his way to the doorway of the living room, shooting his family an uncharacteristically dirty look.

“And for the record, there’s much worse people to be married to out there. I’m lucky I married my best friend, and not some dude who knocked me up in college.” It was a low blow, sure, but Wren had crossed the line first. He also wanted to point out Ty, who was scary, and Emmy, who was married, was also in Vegas that week, and both of them would have been much worse people to marry. 

“Ceej —,” Emery began, his own voice sounding shaky, like he was about to cry. CJ felt momentarily guilty, wondering if he was accidentally dredging up memories of their parents for the younger of the Welford siblings.

“CJ,” Wren said, voice sounding tired, but no less angry, “I swear, if you walk out that door —,”

“You’ll what, Wren? Cut me off? Call me names? Fuck you, I’m over it. I’m over you dictating over my life because you think you have authority because you’re the oldest.” He snapped. “Catch you later, Em. And Jasper it’s been…”

His brother-in-law shrugged in response. It was probably the most amicable the two had ever been.

And without another word, CJ stormed out of the house, ignoring Everly and Lydia — crouched on the upper landing attempting to spy in on the family meeting — calling after their uncle. It didn’t matter he didn’t have a ride home, that he’d have to trek back to the apartment by foot, he relished in the alone time to just think.

Was he wasting his life? Was he supposed to go on to do bigger and better things? Was he that much of an idiot he had found pleasure in the little things and a simple life?

CJ didn’t realize he was crying until he could taste the salt of the tears running down his cheeks to his mouth, sniffling all the way home, glad that neither Jeanie or Seb were in the living area when he eventually got home.

He hoped Jeanie would never kick him out. He didn’t know if he’d feel like he’d belong anywhere else. 

Climbing under his covers, uncaring if Professor Murderclaws had been in that day, hoping he had so he could blame his tears on his allergies, and stared up at his bedroom ceiling. Maybe it was all a sign, maybe he had to change. 

Become the person he was expected to be.

He sighed, thinking back to Seb in the next room. Step one, he thought to himself, annul the marriage. Frowning as he forced himself to drift off to sleep, he amended his plan. Step one, google what ‘annulment’ meant. Step two, annul his and Seb’s marriage. 

It’d all be okay in the end. For CJ, a true optimist no matter what, it simply had to be.

Or he just blew up his life for nothing.

[oflightfeet]

grief is a wild animal howling inside of you . // a self para.

Featuring: Thomas Ackermann. Mentions: Kitty Mallick, Ophelia Weiss, Omer Nacar, Nana Uchida. Timestamp: March 20-March 30. Extras: here and here and here.

Once upon a time, Wren Lightfoot saved Thomas Ackermann’s life and they spoke the words you help me, I help you. A vow, of sorts. But when a bullet crashes through his head, they know that this is not a bullet wound they can stelp with scarves and jumpers. They cannot call Kitty to ask for help, or hope that Arthur Haught can sew him back together, because both of them stand in the same room as them, watching that TV screen of a recording of Thomas getting shot.

But that’s not where this starts.

This starts in the factory, after a fight night, sitting with Nana in a dressing room where Thomas’ belongings dangle and Wren packs them up and takes them home. Just in case. This starts with ten days of muscles so tense that they ache. With twenty three unanswered texts and seven voicemails. With Ophelia stepping by and the two of them ordering food and Wren pretending they don’t have nightmares about people dying every night.

Wren remembers Thomas’ willingness to die for Famine. His certainty that he wouldn’t live past forty five. They let pessimism seep through their veins as it always does, dealing with uncertainty by trying to accept the worst possible outcome. But there’s a glimmer of maybe I’ll see him again, and Thomas wouldn’t go quietly, and maybe he just packed his shit and left, maybe he didn’t love me enough to take me with him, and maybe that’s better than whatever else I could imagine.

There had been twenty four years where Wren hadn’t known Thomas. Eight months which he’d grown from gruff Power to mentor-like to something trusted, something leaned on, someone they loved. There had been one evening where Wren begged him not to die and one evening where he had gruffly promised them that they weren’t going to die from a poisoned coffee. There had been at least twenty five car rides where Wren forced Thomas to enjoy the saddest songs they could find, before bouncing up and down as guitar riffs filled the air. Countless memes Thomas hadn’t been able to receive on his flip phone. A handful of I love you’s, not nearly enough. A mutual understanding that family could be found and chosen and that was what they had done, down the line. 

There had been ten days during which he’d vanished without much of a trace and Wren anticipated what would come to fruition.

But where they expected a bloated body, drifting down a river, they are met with performance in stead. With a TV screen and the image of oil dripping on the floor. With the echo of a recorded gunshot. With a casket. Omer Nacar holds Wren and something about the shape of his body and the comfort he extends reminds them of Thomas, for an agonising second.

At his funeral, Wren does not speak, just like they hadn’t at their father’s. Someone does ask if they want to, but they shake their head — Wren isn’t a talker, after all. They sit near the front, which is strange, because there are so many people here: people who had known Thomas longer, who had more memories to spare, who had more right to grief than they did. Wren isn’t used to being important enough to sit on one of the benches in front and it’s not something they wish to get used to.

The pitchfork road in front of them has two paths of darkness. There’s one leading down into the abyss of grief that will choke them until they are a shell, returned to the haunted, wide-eyed and silent child they had once been. And there is another, a path that will leave them hungrier than ever, aching for something to satiate their need for revenge. Wren, who had chosen Famine nearly a year ago, chooses an anger born out of starvation. 

These things – a wish for revenge, a wish to do right by, a wish to shed blood – do not come natural to them. But Wren has always been malleable, able to change their shape and entire being when the situation calls for it. Thomas Ackermann has been murdered. Wren beckons destruction, feeds the fire of their anger with their own goodness, and hopes that one day they’ll be strong enough to make someone pay in kind.

[spctlights]

tag  drop  for  wren jacobs !!

[ironriverrp-archive]

Question regarding activity - I see that self paras and memes also count as activity, but is there a certain number of things that must be done within the 7 day limit to avoid being unfollowed? Thank you!

Chatted this over with the group, as we're all pretty busy fellows. We kinda see activity as overall group participation over time. Some weeks are gonna be better than others. To me, no matter what the minimum is, if it's a consistent minimum it's grounds for unfollow. I'd keep tabs on who is only posting one thing a week and if it happens three weeks in a row, then it's an unfollow. Biggest thing to consider is that plot and character development does hinge on being more active, so if there are connections you're asking for, think about how it might feel to the other person.

- Community Manager Wren

[wrxn]

A night meant for excellence, flutes of champagne, persons of every species in one grand ballroom all with conversations coinciding.

It’s too good to be true.

The thought had entered the youngest Delore’s mind far too many times to count during the night, though he never dared to speak it. He was occupied with friends and family, with the one he accompanied to the ball, trying to give each of them more than one reason to let go and have a good time— though his own self was more hesitant than usual. The various alcoholic beverages proved to be his friends that evening, helping him glide across the dance floor with his partners, cracking jokes and speaking affectionately of fond memories all the while. The witch managed to get a dance in with just about everyone on the list before he was completely intoxicated. First and foremost was Diana, then Tatum, Bonnie, Abigail, Caitlyn, and Savannah. The witch tried his hardest to get his older brother to go along with it as well, but his efforts simply weren’t valiant enough. He’d ended up dancing with a number of familiar faces throughout the night, some of which he could not remember who they belonged to after no more than a span of a few hours.

His time with his date was more than special. It was everything he expected and more, not to say he was expecting anything outrageous. He simply wanted her to have a good time and, as one of their many conversations lay bare, for the evening to rank higher than that of senior prom. He was not wearing a hot pink suit after all, and she was most definitely not alone. Despite her spoken thoughts of them not being so different from the people they were in high school, he knew they were different. If he wouldn’t be accused of sounding like an egomaniac by the people around him, Wren would have said he was a better person. In his years after mandatory schooling ended, he learned more pain and sadness, he learned how to further control and harness his power, he learned patience and acceptance. Some of these were wanted, others not so much. He did not expect to see his favorite sister go through so much, losing more than her fair share of loved ones. He did not expect to develop a slight resentment for the eldest Delore sibling as he truly began to see how much of a threat he was to Savannah leading the coven. He certainly did not expect lose someone he held near and dear to his heart to a vicious disease, just when the situation and her fate seemed to be looking up.

Every single one of those experiences made him who he was, the young man of soaring height at the Gautier manor, making more memories with those company he enjoyed— and those he didn’t— with every passing moment. His fire had not died down, despite the constant threat of losing another, despite the sinking feeling he got every time a Valentine or Gautier stalked into the room, despite everything in his path. He was still Wren Delore, a person with too many friends to count, and someone who did not conform to other’s rules just because he was told to. Little did he know his fire would soon be blown out, leaving every last piece of him that had been shattered looking for anything good in the world.

A moment’s hesitation, one that would later be something he blamed himself for, came over him as the incantation rang throughout the large space. The familiar voice from the festival that’d left him wracking his brain for weeks, which in turn forced him to search just about every grimoire at his disposal. A moment’s hesitation, then a great tremor that left priceless belongings thrown to the ground and shattered, then fire. This was not a fire he felt drawn to, it was anything but. He felt the warmth before it appeared, as the ground shook beneath every person’s feet. His eyes searched around the room frantically, locking on friends and family members for short moments before moving onto the next, as if he knew what was about to unfold. Hazel hues were turned on the people that brought him into the world when the flames surfaced, burning them to nothing in a mere second, everyone’s were. Two of the greatest influencers on his life were gone without a word. He hadn’t even been able to meet their gazes before the raging inferno claimed their bodies to further fuel its own. Screams could be heard in every direction, each having witnessed the same thing. His rang out above the rest, angrier and more frightened. The young witch was screaming for his parents to resurface, to come striding out of the fire stronger than before, even though he knew that wasn’t possible. Another moment’s hesitation was given before searching for his siblings’ magic in the room, pulling and drawing from it to stop the fire. It could not be extinguished despite their best efforts.

Panicked bodies ran for exits, among them were hopefully some he was continually worrying about. But he had only a few moments to think, to process what had just happened as numerous others crashed into him sloppily and frantically, heading for escape from the building. He found himself running a different way, as he struggled to push through the crowds, heading for the grand staircase. Perhaps it could have given him a better vantage point, but before he was able to find out many parts of the structure began to fall. Rubble from the building quickly surrounded him. A few heavier pieces pinned him down, his limbs twisted in discomfort as he pulled and heaved, hoping to wrench himself away from what he thought could become his grave. It was only then that he called out for anyone that would help, begging and pleading with all he had. Then darkness. He’d blacked out, from the weight of the rubble or the panic in his chest, he did not know.

He woke to musty evening air, riddled with smoke from the unextinguishable fire and numerous other people awakening in their battered forms. His body ached with pain, but it was more than just physical. He’d definitely fractured or broken a bone, not knowing where. He sat up and let his eyes roam over the crowds. To his relief he saw many of those he was worried about, friends mostly. Little did he know the body of Jamie Knight lay somewhere, soulless and nearly unrecognizable from the damage that had been done to it. Someone he’d spoken to mere hours before was dead, someone that was important to too many people he knew— and that was when it clicked, something in his mind screaming for who he was searching for. His parents. The one’s that’d been claimed by the hellfire as it began to burn its endless path. His body felt like it was shutting down, because he could hardly breathe, like water or smoke was filling up his lungs as he clutched the grass beneath his fingers for support. A gut wrenching noise escaped from him as he gasped for air, tears streaming down his face. Ceaseless sobs wracked his body as the memory of his parents burning to ashes before his eyes resurfaced for the second time. For the first time in a long time, Wren could not find anything pleasant to hold onto. For all he knew his parents were most likely not the only ill fated people that night, it pushed him to the breaking point.

His fire had been blown out.

[silverfierro]

Burn Book // Self Para

He’d asked a favor of an avox, or that’s what he called it. To anyone watching it would have looked like the furious boy from One threatened the innocent avox within an inch of her life if she didn’t comply with what he wanted. Either way, she returned within the hour, several pieces of paper in hand. Silver grabbed them from her and retired to his bedroom. 

The blank wall was soon covered in the delivered paper, more visible now as photographs. Smiling faces stapled to a determined boy’s wall. A collage of judgement. He’d taken a red pen to each of them, writing down his initial thoughts about each and every other all-star brought back to this life. He needed to understand them all if he was to conquer over them. Killing them wouldn’t be as easy as it had been to stab his knife through the top of Zea May’s head. 

Nikita Thorn Potential threat. Her eyes were the color of desperate and that makes her fucking dangerous.

Gauge Spoke Does he? I haven’t heard him say a fucking word. 

Sloane Cruise The not-funny hottie without a body. Maybe I’ll laugh when she accidentally jumps off the podium too soon.

Bellona Arbore A real victor killed by fucking rebels. Worth allying with.

Lionel Ashford Another real victor, apparently. Note: Watch the 23rd Games again.

Franklin Herringbone and Margot Flint Venice would’ve lost his shit watching these two trying not to bang in the temple ruins. Non-threats, survived on luck alone.

There were lines drawn between many of the tributes, some based on the alliances Silver thought he saw forming during training, others for grouping purposes. The more recent tributes were clustered together just like the oldest ones were. 

Fransisco Vargas Threat. Dangerous as a heart attack.

Agatha Moreau  World class bitch, avoid or kill. Doesn’t give blowjobs. 

Apple Ferris Not fucking hungry, not a fucking threat. 

Artemis Luxe Too nice, which is probably why she lost the first time. Still a threat.

Wren Stillmen Potential ally. An unhinged shield. She wants to reunite with her sibling, but I sure fucking don’t. 

Lucius Shellac  Top threat, potential ally. One of the Games’ best.

Amphora Helia One of the coolest deaths ever. Unless with Lucius, not a threat.

Seraphina McCabe Already milked her for what she’s worth. Not a threat. 

Jeanine Twill Something about her bothers me and I don’t know what it is. Threat.

Perl Foster Old lady. Absolutely not a threat. 

He moved to the collection of faces he didn’t, or couldn’t recognize. Faces of tributes who had come after him. Aside from watching their tapes, Silver could do little to be as prepared for them as he could be for the tributes that came before. Their Games he had watched dozens of times, enough to remember bits and pieces about them. For all the rest, he knew nothing. It frightened him a bit, but he dismissed the foreign feeling before it had a chance to get comfortable. 

Diana Hermes Haven’t heard of her, bad haircut. Not a threat.

Everett Lance Potential threat, high-ranking career. Fucked up the kid from Nine like I did.

Isabela Leon Top of the leaderboard, threat. Wish she’d get on top of me.

Thomas Tankagine Kid who asks too many damn questions. Is he a threat? Fuck no.

Marino Byssus  Lower district trash who probably just got lucky. Not a threat.

Amanda Benz  Unwanted child of victors. Her shame should kill her on the spot. Not a threat.

Mako Dunes You’re telling me the all-star from Four drowned? What a shitshow. Not a threat.

It put his soul, or whoever’s soul he had, at ease to see that most of the wall was filled with tributes he could defeat. Perhaps not so easily, but he could. Not a one of them would be as calculated, posed, or meticulous as him when they entered the arena in three days time. He knew everything about each and every one of them, and the stuff he didn’t know would come eventually. The only thing they’d know about him would be how the fire glowed in his eyes before he sent them packing for the world they all feared to return to. 

[abdicatedarchive]

Letters to Chanel || Wren

Wren and Chanel’s agreed upon penpalship of letters that were never sent. See Chanel’s letters here (X)

January 2014

To Chanel,

Hey, I know the letter writing thing I suggested was a little weird, but I haven’t heard from you yet so I guess I can write first! I hope you’ve gone over to see Nana, she calls ALL THE TIME!! You should call sometime, even though we’re doing the pen pal thing. The kids at my new school are kinda mean just like at White Lake, but I think that I made my first friend! I also have to walk to school everyday, so I’m thinking about pulling out the roller blades and making my walk shorter, made me think of you! I miss my roller skating buddy. :( Tell me when you can come out here, did your mom say yes? 

Miss You THIS MUCH, Your Laurie

June 2014

Dear Chanel,

Sorry I wasn’t able to come, I got into this debate camp thing, and I get to wear suits and stuff. I think I’m going to see about running for school secretary this year on student council. Only problem is that my knees hurt like crazy because I keep growing so fast. I keep growing out of my suits! I might even be taller than you. Enough about me though, tell me all about you. I can’t wait till Rory gets back and gives me the full update. Maybe we should skype? We could both hit play on snowdogs at the same time and it could be fun! Are you still skating? You should come out here and we could go surfing or something? I have friends! Like a group, it’s crazy. We go to movies and eat snacks and hangout all the time. I wish you were here though, because they would love you. I talk about you all the time. 

I’ll come home soon, I promise. Your Laurie :)

December 2016

To Chanel,

Hey, I keep writing these letters and not sending them because I never get any mail from you. I’m going to be in White Lake for Christmas but only for like a day and Nana has me all booked up, but I think we can make some time to watch snow dogs? It’ll be too icy for roller skates. I just want to see you, you won’t even recognize me I should tower over you!!! How weird is that??? I cannot wait to see you, even if it’s only for a few minutes. I miss my best friend. 

Yours, Lawrence

November 2018

To Chanel Hampton,

I know we didn’t end up doing this letter writing thing, but I looked you up the other day on instagram and almost sent you a DM about starting it up. I felt like a total creep though. Puberty hit us both with a sledgehammer haha.  I promise I’m not. You look really good. I made Varsity on basketball for this winter which is crazy for a freshman. I’m also doing swimming and lacrosse now. I’m kind of an athlete? Who would have thought your Laurie would be an athlete??? Not me, that’s for sure. I’ve been working out like a lot, you are not going to recognize me when I get to town. Remember when I had a huge crush on you and acted like a total dweeb? I might even bring my girlfriend. You’d really like her. She reminds me of you sometimes.

Yours.

June 2018

Dear Chanel,

I know I was supposed to come home again, but I’m actually writing you from my ED rehab. We’re supposed to write letters to ourselves here. To tell ourselves that we love ourselves. To write to future us when we feel like we’re getting worse again. But when I write letters they always go to you, so I’m just going to do that instead. I know you were expecting me this summer more than any other summer ... if you still care. I don’t think I need to be at this clinic, I was coming home to you. I look great, I feel great. They’re making me eat so much here. I just don’t think this is all necessary, Nana cried when she found out I wasn’t coming home. She says she checks on you. I check on you online like a lot. Like all the time. I feel like a total creep writing this out but I already know I’m not sending this letter. I wanted to come home this summer to White Lake and take you on a date. I know this sounds awful coming from a guy stuck in an ED rehab, but I promise you I’m not supposed to be here. People are just upset because I passed out one time at practice. I don’t get what they’re talking about. Anyways, I’m kind of easily distracted right now. But I had been working out so hard because I was excited about going to White Lake and seeing you. I have a lot of nervous energy about it. I think that you’re like, the girl. I know we were best friends when we were little, but I can’t get you off my mind. I wanted to come and see you so bad. I know guys probably talk to you like this all the time, but you’re like the only girl I think about it. The girls here aren’t like you. They aren’t funny and smart as well as beautiful. You are so beautiful. I like when you post videos on your story of you laughing with friends. Do you have nice friends? Do you have a boyfriend? I need to stop writing because one of the nurses is staring at me because I’m smiling because I’m thinking of you and it’s supposed to be a sad reflection activity. But I have this dream where I get to walk around White Lake holding your hand and it just makes me want to get out of here. I promise I’ll be home next summer, I owe you a date. 

Yours again, Laurie. 

[oflightfeet]

grief cannot feed you; though it fills you. // a self para.

Featuring: Thomas Rivers. Mentions: Kitty Mallick, Xander Lightfoot. Timestamp: February 5th, 2021.

When Wren is eleven years old they come home to a dead body in the kitchen. Childlike brain is unable to comprehend the reality they are faced with — the fact that they left for school with a breathing father and are now looking at a dead one —  and so they tell him about their day, as they always do when they come home from school. He does not make them a cup of tea as he often does, though. Wren talks of gym class and Jim had laughed so hard that juice had spouted from his nose and about the book they were reading in class.

After a while, their fingers decide to reach out. They press against the soft flesh of their father’s strong upper arm and find it to be cold and stiff. Fingers reach to chest, neck, face, and they find the same thing over and over again. Nothing.

When they arrive under that bridge, when they crash on the ground and their fingers flutter to touch arm, chest, neck, face —

Suddenly, their child-sized fists pound on the chest of their plaid-clad father, begging the return of a heartbeat where there is none.

— and they don’t find cold, hard flesh like they had fourteen years ago, Wren lets out a deep, guttural cry. What they find in stead is blood, sticky and warm, pooling below Thomas’ body. It sticks to their knees, to their hands, and Wren’s panicked state grows tenfold, because how much blood can a person lose before there’s no hope left? Pressure, Kitty had said, pressure pressure pressure. They search for the source of the bleeding —

Kitchen tiles underneath their knees, suddenly, and the flesh under their fingertips is cold and stiff and their father is dead, their father is dead, their father is dead.

— and unwind their scarf and press down and they think they’re saying something but they’re not sure what the words are. Begs, cries, prayers. I can’t lose you too, they say, or think at the very least, and the fear is like a cold fist around their heart. Squeezing. What there is to do now is wait, wait for Kitty to come. They consider pulling out their phone and calling an ambulance in stead —

A cop bends down and asks if they have any family they can contact and Wren shakes their eleven year old head but says nothing, nothing at all.

— because the fear of losing Thomas is suddenly all there is, an overwhelming and incapacitating sensation that threatens to overtake Wren. But they keep pressing, focus on the flowing of blood they’re trying to staunch, try not to look at Thomas’ face —

Their father in his casket, as if he is asleep, and them not saying one word the entire day of the funeral. 

— and the lack of anything on it. Is he paler? Is he dying? Wren presses down. Grief is a familiar friend they have no intention of meeting it again, they have no intention of falling down that silent loneliness again, that feeling of being completely drained, hollow and frozen. And Wren knows that they are speaking this time when they say, “I can’t lose you too,” and that it’s not just a very loud thought, because they’re certain they can hear it echoing from the bridge’s walls. 

[notverybrighton]

LVCERNA IN VENTVS; a self para

There is a split second in between when the voice dies and when life leaves the body. It’s fast as shit, so fast that it’s impossible to calculate, impossible to notice, and impossible to ever understand.

In that moment is the entire past, the present, and what could have been, all wrapped up in a neat, tidy, fucked up bow of regret. Wren Challis, the monster, the destroyer of lives and of so much other shit at this point, in the split second before life left her body, pulled on the ribbon so that the bow would come undone.

Within an infinity of possibilities, she never forgave Jeannie Twill. She never got coffee with Hunter and said “thanks for everything, Teach.” She never struck up an awkward friendship with Honey’s sister, a sweet artist she didn’t realize was named Clementine until a full day after she’d mistaken her for Honey. She never went to a ball. She never got arrested, never faced the consequences of her actions. She never lived with the guilt of having killed a man.

But she had. She’d lived for four days as a monster. She took life after life in the Arena, and now the universe was holding her accountable.

She’d said she hoped it was warm, where she went. If she went anywhere. It was true; she did hope that. She really fucking hoped it.

She hoped that she got to see her mom again, one day. She hoped that she got to see everyone. She hoped Arachne won the Games and got to go home. She hoped Dice won the Games without having to kill Thetis, and got to be the princess she deserved to be. She hoped Thetis won the Games, because of one stupid fucking act of kindness that meant that Wren owed her huge forever, and she’d wait as long as she could to have to deal with Thetis coming to collect. She hoped that Holland or Aspen won the Games, or else what the fuck was any of this fucking for? She hoped whoever won might think to check on her mother.

There were people she might have gotten to meet, if she’d won and taken her mother into the world. She might have met Victors her own age. She might have hated the die-hard patriot and been so fucking jealous of the kid who’d had so much conviction for his cause that he’d been willing to fucking die for it. She might have made up with Jeannie and Hunter. She might have gotten that woman who always trailed Jeannie to train her. She might have learned to live with the girl she’d become. She might have to fight her nightmares.

She might have faced judgement. She might have been avoxxed. She might have been free, and kissed someone new. 

She might have met folks who were in her boat, not that she liked the water. They’d be free from slavery, but under a watchful eye, not to mention the thousands of eyes of the masses, watching and judging and being creepy as fuck.

She might have met the people who put her through all of this in the first place, who designed all of this, who had conducted the slaughter like an orchestra trying to play jazz. And she might have tried to kill those of them who found it entertaining. Sick fucks.

She hoped she never had to deal with any sick fucks again. She hoped she’d be at peace.

She hoped there was music. She’d give anything for music. Music and her mother, but she could wait a while for her mom to live a big, full life. 

She wondered if there would be living rooms. She’d like to dance in the living room with everyone she loved. Even if that was like, two fucking people. She wanted to dance in the living room and hold them close. She wanted to get lost in the music.

She wanted to live. Dammit, she really wanted to live.

But the bow snapped back into place. It always fucking did, no matter the bow. The bow could be a fucking shoe dropping. That wasn’t the goddamn point.

She never did any of those things. All of the mights and the maybe sos couldn’t change reality.

The split second was over.

And Wren Challis was dead.

[dimarunongmagdecidee]

-----------------wakas---------------

Naalala ko pa yung time na inaayos ko yung blog ko. Sabi ko, hala gusto ko pag nagcollege ako magiging diary ko yung tumblr. So that may il-look back ako pagdating ng araw. Pero guess what? Sabi ng college life sakin "bitch u thot" hahhahaa i never imagined my college life to be this stressful and dreadful. To be honest, di ko alam pinasok ko. Lalo na nag accountancy HAHAHAHHA AS IN NO CLUE AT ALL. Pero anyways I'm writing this post to express my story in summary, sa caption ko kasi I decided to thank the people around me kasi deserve naman nila. Pero dito sa blog ko feel ko deserve ko naman iappreciate sarili ko. HHAAHHAHA.

Gusto ko lang sabihin na adjusting nung first year isn't so easy. Lalo na first time ko sa manila. Tho oo I'm a city girl, di ako galing sa province. Pero kasi di ako street smart so everyday ng byahe ko before pamanila i was very anxious na baka maligaw ako or may masamang loob sa sinasakyan ako or baka kung ano mangyare sakin along the way. Pero yung determination ko na gusto ko to. Dream school ko ust. Kakayanin ko. Kasi honestly di nila support na mag UST ako, aside from we're facing financial problems back then di rin nila ko kaya asikasuhin that time so I have to do all things by myself. Grabe ngayon, I'm super proud to that 16 year old wren. Nakakaiyak. Totoo ngang u need to get out of your comfort zone. Kelangan mong mag stand up kung gusto mo talagang mangyari pangarap mo.

Those 5 years were very rough. Ang daming times na muntik nako magstop. Ang daming problema. Mostly family and money. Yep, wala naman ako problema sa acads maybe that's why ang taas ng expectations nila sakin na ako daw hope ng family. Not gonna lie, sobrang pressure non. Parang wala ako karapatan mapagod. Pero you gotta make you weaknesses you strengths. At I wanna thank God for giving me a stubborn and tough mentality kahit anong dumaang problema sakin. Oo, nalulungkot pero lalaban parin.

I think it was my 2nd year nung naka adopt nako kahit papaano and I enjoyed my college life. Seryoso kasi parang wala akong buhay non nung 1st year. UST-Bahay-UST-Bahay lang talaga ako. No social life at all. Di ko alam siguro dahil time if of essence sakin dahil 4 years ba naman akong commute life. And mostly average of 5 hrs a day byahe ko (back and forth na syempre) pero ayun kinaya naman. GRABE UR A TOUGH GHORL. Pero don't get me wrong di nmaan ako puro aral pag uwi hahahaha nagppaahinga lang ako mostly sa bahay since nakakadrain talaga. I don't know sanay naman ako sa very focused sa acads na school since galing naman akong science high pero iba parin yung patayan dito sa AMV eh. Anyways, second year I started going out with blockies. Going to debuts, staying overnights, and inom na rin syempre :p di naman ako nagpabaya more like enjoying new things syempre uwi parin ako Alabang kaya kelangan may control HAHHAHAHA.

Third year, we shuffled sections because our program have to filter the students kung sino ang BSA at sino ang BSMA and luckily I am still accepted sa BSA iniyakan ko din retention exams kasi I was supposed to be exempted and matic BSA na pero bumaba GWA ko so :-( hahahahha anyways ayun nashuffle and I was super scaree that time kasi ibang mga tao nanaman. As you all know, super mahiyain ako sa mga new people unless sila un amag approach. So ayun another adjusting, another barkada. Solid din naman sila but things happened inside the circle kaya nawala din :( GRABE I CAN STILL REMEMBER THE CONFLICTS FRESH PARIN SA UTAK KO. Tho good terms naman proud ako gagraduate na kami, di lahat pero at least we survived.

Fourth year, I decided to join an org mostly because dun ko nalang makakasama mga OG tropa ko eince BSMA sila lahat at ako lang naiwan sa BSA so nag org ako and naging officer para magkakasama aprin kami kahit papaano. I was the Auditor of our college' local COMELEC. DI KO RIN SURE ANO PINASOK KO THAT TIME. Pero I end up loving the family and the responsibility. Oo, dagdag stress like LEGIT DAGDAG STRESS. Pero iba naman yung balik ng saya whenever you accomplish things and you serve the students lalo na't vital sa bansa natin ngayon yang COMELEC politics stuff. Grabe the joy of looking back sa things na dati akala mo wala lang. Ngayon narerealize mo yung impact niya sa life mo. Kung pano ka nagbago at naggrow. I am amazed self huhu PROUD AKO TALAGA SAYO SERYOSO. SORRY NA. Then ayun di ko pa ba nasabi 5 year course ako. So yung mga tropa kong MA, graduating na by this time. 4th year was when I became a social person kasi syemrpe joining an org tas officer ka pa dami makakasalamuha at makikilala. So ayun, diba nga nawala tropa ko from 3rd year that time, I can still remember how I always go to the classroom ng mga friends kong BSMA every break or every walang klase or kapag sila naman yung may klase nakatambay lang ako sa org room para matulog or magwait or magpalipas oras. Ghad those times I really felt alone, aside sa naiisip kong ggraduate na sila lahat tas ako maiiwan, nasasad ako kasi feel ko wala na talagang constant sa life ko lahat nawawala. Tapos dagdag mo pa na nung 2nd sem nalipat nanaman ako ng section shuta. Buti nalang. Buti nalang talaga super kind din ng mga tao sa napuntahan kong section. And I found my "Betsy" there. Oh diba sino bang mag aakala. Hahahahhaha anyways 4th year ako nagstart makistay sa condo ng friend ko since super hectic ng sched and di na talaga kaya ng uwian dahil yung sched ko panggabi tas may org duties pa. I stayed sa condo ng friend ko pero andon naman mom niya so may nag aasikaso samin. Grabe tita Beth super love ko siya. Sometimes I just stare at her and realize na at least may mother figure pa ako na kasama. If u dont know kasi (or if anyone is even reading up to this point) my mom left our family before ako nagcollege. Siguro gets niyo na why we had so many problems by now hahahahhaa. Anyways goods naman kami ni mommy siya parin tumulong sakin para makapagtapos hehe. Super thankful parin ako sa kanya syempre and ofc i love her still. Anyways ayon nga i felt another family kapag andon ako sa condo na yon which makes me warm and easy kapag andon ako. Super swerte ko talaga sa mga tao sa life ko. Bakit ganon? Super bait mo po G 🥺 shet naalala ko 4th year if thesis season pala. I can still remember the stress. Imagine may thesis ka, officer ka ng org, tapos sabay sabay pa lahat ng major exams grabe yun ata yung first time ko mag breakdown ng dahil sa acads. Seryoso, thats the nearest I was to breaking. Super hirap talaga for me lalo na di ata naiintindihan ng groupmates ko sa thesis na di ko makakayang 100% attentions ko sa thesis because I have other responsibilities. May nasira pang friendship seryoso. I never thought aabot sa point na ganon pero ewan baka ako rin yung mali don. I'm sorry guys!!! Pero congrats satin!! Proud ako sa inyooooo!!!

Fast forward, last year of my college life is IAC sem. Meaning parang rerun ng topic or review nalang for board exam. This time nagpaalam nako magdorm kasi shet last na to if I fail this one sayang naman yung mga taon. Kasi a lot of alumni told na kung madugo na undergrad, mas madugo IAC so I was determined to do better. And thankfully naman pinayagan nako magdorm since nakaluwag naman na and last na. I was so happy that time na magddorm ako shet finally. I wanted to feel independent or learn at least. Pero mostly dahil makakapagwalwal nako ng wlaang nakakaalam HAHHAHAHA char ofc part yun pero that's not the focus. Ayon, nung nagdorm ako I had the MOST SOLID FAM. Since nga diba wala nanaman ako tropa na makakasmaa kasi graduate na ofc so another adjustment nanaman sa life jusko every year nalang talaga. I dont know if sinasabi ko lang to because I am in the present and sila kasama ko now or its just i really feel the genuine love of this squad huhu. Or maybe dahil sila talaga yung nakasama ko through the darkest days sa AMV magkakasama kaming ginago ng sistema, ng admin, ng mundo and sabay sabay din kaming ggraduate ngayon. GRABEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TANGINAAAA NAKAKAIYAK NAKAKAPROUD. LAHAT NG INUMAN, IYAKAN, PUYAT LAHAT YON MA LAHAT YON NAGPAY OFF. LAHAT YUN MAY REASON. LAHAT YUN DINALA TAYO DITO. Ang daming beses na nagdoubt kami if we could pero look at all of us now huhu lahat kami kinaya. As long as u got each others' backs talaga. Don't let anyone break.

Ayun to sum it up, narealize ko lang na I really value friendship a lot. Feel ko talaga they keep me going. They keep me sane. Super dali ko maimpluwensyahan pag kasmaa sila. They are both my joy and hope kapag stressedt huhu. Thank u self for choosing this path. Thank u for being strong. Thank you for believeing you can. Thank u kasi matigas ulo mo wala ka pake at nag aral ka lang AHAHAHAHA. NO MATTER WHAT LIFE THROWS AT YOU, LOOK AT THIS FEAT AND REMEMBER HOW STRONG U ARE OKI? I LOVE U WREN WREN CONGRATS TO YOUR ACHIEVEMENT!!! Can't wait to finally walk to that QPAV stage with my gradpic on the LCD and getting my diploma 😭😢

ALL THOSE 5 YEARS WAS LIKE A BLUR RIGHT NOW PERO I KNOW THE JOURNEY WASN'T EASY, IT NEVER IS. I HAD MY MOMENTS. PERO SALAMAT SA PAG OVERCOME LAGI. BE HAPPY WREN WREN. YOU DESERVE.

[hvmltn]

      *:·⁀➴   𝑳𝑨𝑾𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  𝑽. 𝑯𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑻𝑶𝑵  ╱  𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 .

              Crescida e criada em St. Helena, Califórnia; Lawrence sempre foi uma garota de família. Seu pai, um salesman lutando para conseguir pagar as contas em dia, e sua mãe, uma policial que tentava voltar para a casa para os seus filhos todos os dias, sã e salva, sempre tentaram lhe dar do melhor, por mais que tivessem alguns problemas relacionados ao dinheiro, sempre deram o seu melhor e faziam o possível para serem uma família feliz. Durante sua infância fora complicado para Laurie aceitar os problemas financeiros da família, visto que deixava-se ser influenciada pelos seus colegas, mas depois de anos aprendendo, percebeu que realmente fora privilegiada; tinha uma família que lhe amava, uma casa, uma cama para dormir. Ela era feliz. E por mais que tenha tomado um tempo para perceber isso, quando o fez, se tornou uma pessoa completamente diferente.

              Nunca teve nenhum interesse no quesito romance — namoro, casamento, peguetes; eram coisas que a Hamilton fazia questão de manter distância. Não que não tivesse opção, ela simplesmente estava ocupada demais pensando em seu futuro para desperdiçar seu tempo com coisas bobas como aquela; Ou assim pensava. Apesar de ser uma mulher de fortes opiniões e muito cabeça dura, isso tudo pareceu mudar quando conheceu Alexander Westbrook. Jamais pensaria em se apaixonar pelo rapaz, mas bom, quem manda no coração né? Seus amigos lhe avisaram que não era boa coisa, mas como qualquer adolescente ingênua e apaixonada, Lawrence pensou que ela seria “a garota” para ele; Aquela que o faria mudar quem era, tornar-lo uma pessoa boa. E foi assim mesmo, durante oito anos. Oito longos anos.

              O casal, como qualquer outro, passou por seus altos e baixos. Pequenas breaks, brigas por coisas bobas, esse tipo de coisa. Mas algo que Lawrence jamais poderia imaginar, seria traição. A pobre garota, que nunca teve seu coração partido, não sabia o que sentir quando pegou-o na cama com uma de suas amigas mais próximas. Era um sentimento misto de raiva e decepção. Laurie, que antes era tão decidida e certa sobre tudo, não tinha ideia do que iria fazer depois daquilo. Sua vida desde o fim do ensino médio se baseava apenas em seguir Alexander para qualquer lugar, sem questionar — não que não fosse contra sua vontade, claro, ela concordava com aquilo. Sure, parecia errado, mas ela era uma garota boba e apaixonada — well, ainda é — que faria qualquer coisa para ficar com o homem que amava. Mas por mais que o amasse, ainda tinha self-respect, e sabe-se lá quantas vezes ele havia feito aquilo antes. Ela não podia simplesmente sentar e esquecer aquilo, ela não era assim, e por mais que tivesse mudado muitas coisas sobre si por ele, ela não mudaria isso.

              Sem que tivesse muitas opções, acabou voltando para casa. O lugar que havia evitado colocar os pés nos últimos 8 anos; Nada havia mudado, seus vizinhos eram os mesmos e o dono da padaria perto de lá, ainda era o Mr. Jones. Não que Lawrence se incomodava, na verdade, ela gostava. Foi recebida de braços abertos por seus pais, que não hesitaram em lhe dar seu quarto de volta — que na sua ausência tinha virado um pequeno depósito para as coisas inúteis que sua mãe insistia em guardar. Realmente, nada havia mudado.

              Tomou aquilo como uma oportunidade para fazer tudo aquilo que não conseguia fazer quando estava junta de Alexander. Huh, Falando assim, parece até que ela não era feliz, mas ela era, muito feliz, de um jeitinho meio tóxico, mas ainda assim, feliz. Ela o amava, incondicionalmente, talvez por isso estivesse sendo tão difícil superá-lo. Seu primeiro e único amor... Não é algo que você simplesmente pode esquecer de uma hora para a outra, não importe o quanto tente. Mas aquilo não importava mais, teria que seguir em frente, e acharia sua forma de fazê-lo. Por isso, a primeira coisa que veio à sua cabeça fora faculdade. Certo, não era Yale, ou nenhuma das outras faculdades que fora aceita há alguns anos, mas já era alguma coisa. Jornalismo sempre fora um grande sonho seu, e por mais que estivesse um pouco atrasada, quem sabe não conseguiria arranjar sua vida de uma vez por todas?

                                .༅* ࿐ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 .

basic info.

FULL NAME: lawrence verena hamilton NICKNAME(S): wren, laurie, vee LABEL: the fallen angel OCCUPATION: student & waitress AGE: twenty-three DATE OF BIRTH: june 23rd 1996 NATIONALITY: american GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis female; she/her ORIENTATION: bisexual 

physical.

FACE CLAIM: lily collins WEIGHT: 55kg / 121lb HEIGHT: 5.11ft / 1.69cm EYE COLOUR: light brown HAIR COLOUR + STYLE: brunette; wavy; long DOMINANT HAND: right ACCENT + INTENSITY: none; american TATTOO(S): the initial of her mom’s name on the right wrist SCAR(S): on forehead from falling off the playground

background.

HOMETOWN: st. helena, ca CURRENT TOWN: st. helena, ca LANGUAGE(S): english and a little pit of spanish SOCIAL CLASS: medium BASIC EDUCATION: finished MOM: marilyn r. hamilton (née portman) DAD: joseph g. hamilton SHIP: lawriam SIBLING(S): maggie & joey PET(S): a poodle called pickles ADOPTED: no

vices & habits.

SMOKES? no DRINKS? at parties DRUGS? only marijuana at parties VIOLENT? no (depends) ADDICTION(S)? no SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? sometimes HABIT(S): bitting nails, chewing the ends of pens & swearing HOBBIES: gardening, scrapbooking LIKES: movies, sleep, eat DISLIKES: rude people, fuckboys, politics, sports, all-nighters OBSESSION(S): none COMPULSION(S): none

miscellaneous.

HOUSE: gryffindor ZODIAC: cancer ELEMENT: air MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: witch ANGEL: michael ANIMAL: cardinal

connections.

FATHER: joseph gerard hamilton MOTHER: marilyn regina hamilton SISTER: amelia nina hamilton BROTHER: shawn richard hamilton EX-BOYFRIEND: alexander “lex” paul smith

[flynnxcarver]

The Protector, Captured || Flynn Self Para

Flynn groaned, placing a hand on his head as he opened his eyes. His memory was foggy and he couldn’t quite remember where he was or how he had gotten there. He blinked several times, trying to force his eyes to focus on his surroundings. Where the hell was he?

He shot up from the cot and glanced around. He strained his ears, trying to pick up on any type of sound that wasn’t being made by him. “Hello?” He shouted but it only echoed in the room. The ache in his skill pulsated and he flinched from the pain. He had to get out of there. Wherever “there” was. All Flynn knew was that he was in a room, by himself, and not outside protecting his friends.

He held his hands up and faced the door. He knew that with enough force, he could blow the door off it’s hinges with divine energy. He grimaced, glaring at the metal door, and prepared for a loud noice. He squinted his eyes and held his head back slightly. 

Nothing happened. 

Flynn’s body slacked and he glanced down at his hands. “What the fuck?” He breathed and then he shook his hands, as if there was something wrong with them. “Okay. Okay Flynn, you can do this. Your friends need you. They are counting on you.” He talked himself up as he put his hands out in front of him once more. “You got this.” 

He sucked in a deep breath and tried to call the divine energy to him. Seconds passed. Then a minute. Nothing happened. 

Confused, shocked, and still disoriented, Flynn stumbled backwards, shaking his head back and forth. “No, no, no.” He knew exactly where he was. Exactly why his power wouldn’t show itself. “No, no, no, no!” He shouted at himself, his emotions already threatening to take hold of him. “No, my friends need me.” He breathed heavily as he forced his legs to walk towards the door. Kayleigh needed him. Jazmine needed him. Michael, Wren, Jay, Wentworth. They were counting on him. “My friends need me!” He shouted as he threw his fists into the metal door. 

His eyes glassed over from tears that were threatening to fall and he threw his fists at the door again, as if it was going to help him get out of there. “Let me out!” Flynn shouted, his voice ragged as he continued to punch the door. “LET ME OUT!” 

Flynn’s body shook as his legs gave out on him. He fell to the ground with a loud thump, not even protecting any part of his body as he fell. He didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care what happened to him. All he wanted was to help his friends. To protect them. That was his purpose in life and he couldn’t even do it. 

Tears spilled out of his eyes as he stared down at the ground, hoping, and continuously pleading for them to let him out. “Please...” His voice a whisper now. “Please, let me out.” 

[durifmdarchive]

what made me jump was dinosaur  ⏤ self para.

date: march 5th, 2018. character(s) involved: star (his pup); mentions of wren, hyejung, sooyeon, taeri (his god-son), mari (his god-daughter), uncle minho, aunt taekjo. about: with his post traumatic stress disorder worsening and the anniversary of his parents death (and the car accident he was in) on the rise; duri’s fear of dying as young as his parents did is beginning to grow and grow. out of this fear, he makes the outlandish decision to meet with his legal team to draft up a will on a day with a free schedule.  word count: 2,887.

The time continually clicked upon the clock; minute after minute, hour after hour. Brown eyes sat, watching as time had pressed by so slowly, yet so quickly. Everything was always about time, life was all about time. How much time someone had, how much time was left; this manmade construct to help let humans let daily lives was what life was described by. Which, had constantly made Duri question just how long was left for him. Was he going to meet the same fate that both of his parents did? That’s something that constantly sat in his mind; one of the fears that would constantly consume his head. Fear… that was something that almost constantly sat in the back of Duri’s head. Fear, it was normal; but the fear that would constantly sit in the man was something that never felt normal to Duri.

Duri is generally the happy guy. He was happy, that was true; he was always happy, having a smile on his face, and he has so much love to give to people and put out into the world. He’s warm, he’s friendly, he’s soft, he’s pure, and so many good words could go into describing the type of person that Oh Duri is. But, the one thing that a lot of people didn’t know; something that Duri really only knew or felt, was the sadness that consumed him, the fear that sat within him, and the nightmare that would take him over every few nights. It was something that Duri just couldn’t shake what so ever, it crept upon him whenever he would least except it. At time, he would think he was perfectly okay; but once it would happen, he knew he wasn’t, and he needed help; he just didn’t know how to ask for help. Isn’t it so funny? Someone who’s always helping other people, always willing to help, but he would never seek for help himself.

Eyes blinked with the time, mind full of endless thoughts. He sits up finally, after hours of just watching the clock click on by with its minutes and hours. His eyes meet with Star, who was laying at the end of the bed, pressed up against Duri, the bottom half of his body covered up by a thin blanket; which wasn’t much because he was only a few months old, meaning the golden retriever was still somewhat small. Star was happy to sleep in the bed when Wren wasn’t there; plus, it made the bed feel less empty, nonetheless. There’s a soft smile upon his face as he watched Star’s soft breathing; the dog was enough to help him feel better. Quietly and softly, Duri moved out from under the comforter, quietly leaving the bedroom. His footsteps crept down the hallway, fingers pressing the light switch, letting the lights come on in the living room and kitchen.

In minutes, the kettle beeps and the light turns off, signaling that the water was boiled. He has a soft sigh, before he picks it up, pouring the water into a mug that already had the sugar and tea bag in it, ready to go. His fingers grip the spoon, stirring the contents, and moving towards the living room, where he would place the tea cup and plate down upon the side table, before he would scrunch his six-foot body up on the couch, hands grabbing the notebook and pen that he left there. Another soft sigh left his lips; this was morbid, what he was doing, it was outlandish… but, it was something that made sense to Duri, simply because of the fear that had installed within his very mind, something he couldn’t move pass. One day he would, he knew one day he would be able to move pass, but until then, he was taking about just any precaution his mind could possibly come up with. It was ridiculous, it was something that he really shouldn’t be doing. But, could you blame what his mind and heart told him to do? At this time of night when the stars were out to play, they were as confused and scared as he was.

Hours had passed, he had moved pass two cups of tea, and had a cup of coffee. He wrote something out, something that would soon be revealed to someone. It wasn’t a song or a story, it was something that a man of his age probably shouldn’t write out. Just the thought of doing it and finishing it was enough to make Duri feel nauseous, but it was okay, he had gotten through it. He got up from his spot, notebook in one hand, and the mug in the other hand, placing them down upon the kitchen island. His mind felt clouded, he felt ridiculous. But, he was scared that something could easily happen; something could easily take him away from away he cares about – just like the world had managed to take away his parents at the same age that he currently was. It sat there, always bubbling away and brewing.

He shuffled his way to the bathroom, to get ready for the day. His shower was quiet, mainly standing under the hot water, trying to empty out his mind; letting a few tears escape his eyes to help him get over whatever he was currently feeling. A long time passed by, something that he didn’t mean to happen, but he wanted to melt with the water, feel as free as the water did; he wanted to be freed from what was locked within his head. Slowly, he could feel it happening, but sometimes it would completely stop and go back to the very start.  Would he ever get away from these feelings? These thoughts that constantly lingered? He could never truly answer that – at least, not yet. He got out of the shower, before he would do his usual routine of blow drying his hair, doing morning skin care, brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and doing his hair. Today, he opted for the option of the tan pea coat; the one that Wren got him for his birthday, the one that matched the one that she has – as well as a white sweater, and black jeans.

Lively and awake, he makes his way into the bedroom completely, Star popping his head up from his spot on the bed. He got up and stretched his body, before getting excited to see Duri standing there. A soft chuckle left Duri’s lips, before he walked over, petting Star a bunch, scratching behind his ear, and giving all the attention that Star liked when saw Duri in the morning or after a long day. “Are you ready for your morning meal, Star?” he questioned, before he picked Star up from the bed, making his way out to the kitchen where he would feed him a small morning meal and some water to drink. He would quickly make his way back to the bedroom to make the bed; always making it look as if the bed wasn’t lived in at all. Simply, that was the way he was taught and he never left the bed unmade, it gave him motivation for the day. He had always believed that you should start your day with making your bed to give yourself the proper motivation to do things that day; that simple thing had helped him with such every day. He would refuse to leave the trainee dorm, Decipher’s dorm, and his own apartment every day without making the bed. He made his way to the kitchen to clean up Star’s bowls and place that piece of paper in his pocket before he’d forget it.

A loud whistle is made, before Star comes darting for the front door, particularly from falling over. “Come on, let’s go to the bathroom before I have to go out, okay?” He spoke, a soft smile against his lips. He places the leash over Star’s head, as well as placing bags in his pocket, before picking him up (it was easier to carry him because Duri never used the elevator), and making his way to the area of the apartment building that was full of greenery. There, Star would do his business and look proud of himself; leaving Duri to clean it up. He let the pup run around for a few minutes, burn off all his morning energy, before taking him back to the apartment. A layer of newspaper would sit somewhere close to the kitchen, and down on his knees, he’d be looking at Star who was sitting there, watching his every move. “If you need to go while I’m gone, go here, okay?” he says softly, a wagging tail would be his only response. He watches a hand over, running his hand through soft fur. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” He tells the young dog, before he’d make his way out, with Star following him all the way to the door to say another goodbye.

He placed a mask over his mouth, a beanie upon his head, and sunglasses over his eyes in the effort of not being noticed. He was always pretty good at this, especially since no one really knew exactly where Duri lived, unless he gave you the exact address. It was privacy, so it was something that was never shared for his own sake (though, he was surprised that no one had managed to figure such a thing out.) Nonetheless, he was on his way to meet a few people; something that was important for him in this moment. The cold air nipped upon the bare skin upon his face, making it just the tiniest bit red. But, it was fine, he liked the cold (even if he did prefer when the sun would shine and warm him. He was, after all, a winter baby technically.) The hard biting of the cold was enough to take his mind elsewhere, make him not think, and make him just smile as he went on with his morning. That was enough, right?

His eyes, hidden behind the pair of sunglasses, meet with a little girl outside of a convenient store who’s seemingly struggling with getting a straw through the top of banana milk. A soft smile can’t help but to make its way upon Duri’s lips, before he lets his mask hang from one ear, and sunglasses sit in the pocket of his jacket. He made his way over, before bending down to her level. Softly, he takes the banana milk and straw from her, before he quickly poked the straw through the top, handing it over to her. “thank you, mister!” she spoke, excitement lacing her voice as she smiled the happiness smile, and lips moving to take a drink of that sweet banana milk. He patted her head, “your welcome. Make sure to cover up well,” he said to her, before he’d make his way away, mask going back over his mouth, and sunglasses over his eyes.

It takes him a good amount of time to make it to where he was going – which was the office of is legal team. He took the beanie, the mask, and the sunglasses off of his head, placing them into his pocket. He made it early for his appointment; but he could feel his heart beating. Was that something that was normal? Probably, it had to be, he was drafting his will. It only felt right that he was doing such a thing; again, it was that fear that sat within him, something that had caught him to him; a secret fear he had for the longest time. His eyes looked down at the floor, his leg bouncing up and down out of nervousness. He let his mind focus on something else, like the color of the rug upon the floor, or the sound of the tapping of the keyboard from the receptionist. The sound of a door opening, “Ah, Duri!” The voice says, before Duri stands up with a soft smile, “Hello,” he says, bowing towards him. “Follow me,” he stated, before Duri would make his way following after him.

Entering the room, he greets the two other members, a male slightly older them him, as well as a female around the same age; as well as an intern that was overlooking what was going on that day. Though, she was asked to step out for this matter; even though Duri had said it was fine (it was most likely due to his status and his legal team having nervousness about whatever was being done getting leaked; though, she wasn’t going to be saying anything about him actually showing up there, so it was going to be a-okay.) His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded up paper, which he unfolded, and let out another deep breath. “I want to draft my will,” he stated, before passing the paper across the table. He didn’t write it officially; he wasn’t actually entirely sure how to actually write it, before he had gotten his thoughts out on it, as well as who in his life would receive what. There was a simple nod from the three that sat at the table with him, before they would begin writing it officially.

“Wren,

I hope you aren’t receiving this until much later in life. But, I’m writing this at twenty-five because I’m so scared that I’m going to leave early just like my parents did… it’s foolish but I’m so scared, so please, don’t receive this until much, much later. I’m hoping that I don’t meet a fate like an accident like my parents; I’m going to live a long, healthy life with you. I want to be safe and know that I did this safety precaution in case something happens to me that I can’t control. But for now, I’m going to be giving what’s most precious to me to different people.

Bae Yoorin/Wren will get Star; he is the greatest gift to me from her; I believe that he is hers as well as he loves her as much as I do; take good care of him if you receive this too soon. She will get the apartment and furniture, as well as the clothes in the closet. As well as ____ amount of money.

Choi Hyejung; the box of my mother’s jewelry sits in the middle right hand drawer of the dresser underneath all the shirts. Please take good care of it for her and I. _____ amount of money goes to her.

Lee Sooyeon; If I’m leaving too early, take care of yourself kiddo and stay out of trouble, okay? I know a lot of things are hard, but I promise they’ll be so much better! _____ amount of money goes to her.

Kim Taeri and Kim Mari; My god-children, uncle loves you a lot; I hope you know that. I’m planning on seeing you grow up right before my eyes, I plan on making sure my fear doesn’t become a reality! But, they will receive all the games I have that they like so much, please be sure to give them the panda and polar bear mugs that they like so much. ______ amount of money goes to each of them for their college educations.

Oh Eunki; Take care of Hyejung for me if I meet the same fate as mom and dad, okay? I have a few of dad’s things, you know what they are; I know you’ll really like them and he’ll want you to have it. So many words could be said, but I’m not sure where to start… thank you, uncle.  _____ amount of money goes to Oh Eunki.

Park Taekjo; Auntie, There’s so many things that I can say to you but I don’t know how to put them into words. I wish there was something special that I could give to you, but unfortunately there’s nothing of that sort. But knowing you, I know you’d yell at me for gifting you it. But, I’m going to make sure you get money anyways to treat yourself. ____ amount of money goes to Park Taekjo.”

A fear made him foolish enough to believe he would leave so soon, go in the way his parents left; the thing that scarred him the most and kept him up at night.... even scared him from sleeping because he knows he’s going to relive the car accident in his dream. His head was so messed him, he so badly needed help, and he knew that as he was signing the paper to secure it completely. What was one to do? How could he ask for the help that he so desperately needed? To make him not fear what he completely feared? It made him jump so high in his mind. The post-traumatic stress disorder stayed, at this point, it was a constant in his life. Should he see someone? How was he going to make himself do it and believe that it was, in fact going to be okay?

He sulked as he walked down the stairs, before completely sitting down on the stairs, staring down at the texture of the stairs. He couldn’t help but to burst out crying, “I’m so scared… I’m so scared.”