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A Most Fearful Fantasm | Self-Para 001 

In which Drew Johnson is forced to relive the worst day of her life in a nightmare scenario, over, and over again.

    Don't wanna know my darkest LOWS     My blackest pitch, MURDER of crows     Feels  f a r  from home, close to the vale                                                                 Goodbye mother's fairy-tale     Never After will suffice      When what doesn’t make me stronger                                                                                               KILLS me.

{ Trigger Warnings: Blood, gore, torture, hospitals }

    Grant Ward.      Daisy Johnson.                  Daisy Johnson.                                          D a i s y.                                                            J o h n s o n.

                                                                 “NO!”

                 The screeches —- but desperate pleas for silence,                  for solitude —- reverberated through the room as                  Drew struggled with futility to escape, hands in tight fists,                  BANGING against the armrests of the stainless-steel chair                  she now found herself strapped to. 

           Shackles, too tight for her comfort, rubbed her skin raw,            thin droplets of blood trickling to the surface of her wrists            and pooling to the ground. 

                             Around her stood researchers, poised as the perfect                              picture of pompous pricks, expressions unwavering                              whilst they watched, no regard for the pain engulfing                              Drew Johnson-Ward’s very skeleton.

                 “STOP. MAKE IT STOP!!!” 

                             She continued to scream,                                                                          yell,                                                                                    BELLOW. 

     Anything for them to stop.                                         cease.                                        RELEASE her.

                 Videos of her family continued to flicker upon the screen.      Thousands of watts to the brain searing through her mind like a      blazing pyre. Drew found herself dancing along a dangerous,      tightrope-like line, some sort of border between the realms of      conscious and what lies beyond. Black dots speckled her vision      and she attempted to shut her eyes, a feat rendered impossible      by the mechanisms forcing her eyelids open.

    God forbid she wasn’t watching the images.

                 Wasn’t being conditioned to hate them.

                           Or if not hate them, to at least feel detached from them.

                 Because emotional attachments were not allowed in H.Y.D.R.A.      And after her slip-up at S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy [ Master spies do not find      themselves expelled from their institutions. Double agents are not      FOUND OUT. There should be no reports of TREASON ], they would      be certain to tie any loose ends.

                             Even if that meant tying her eyelids to her eyebrows.

                                         “FUCK YOU,” Drew spat at the nearby agent,                                          receiving but a blank stare in return. No sympathy                                          here. No compassion. She was met with another                                          jolt to her brain, slumping down with defeat. 

                 And another. 

                                         And  A N O T H E R .

                 It continued that way, electroshocks until Drew Johnson      was BROKEN.Her neck hung lamely in the seat, tears streaking      down her pallid expression, mascara and eyeliner tinting her wet      cheeks with a murky black. Other than her soft sobs of defeat,      there was no noise. The agents left, abandoned her strapped      to the chair, blood trickling down from her nose.

                             It had stopped. Thankfully.                              Everything had stopped.                       ��                It was OVER.

                                                                 Until it wasn’t.

                 Minutes later, they had RETURNED. Men and women in lab      coats, goggles inches thick covering any emotion that could appear      on their expression. Slowly, they turned faceless, hair falling out,      piling on the ground at their feet.                                                            MONSTERS.

                             They approached her with caution,                              creeping towards her, PREDATORILY.                              Claw-like fingers wrapped around her wrist,                              injecting her with with some —- Serum.

           She had nothing left in her, incapable of fighting,            Drew gave into the soft lull of the anesthetic, eyes            rolling back behind her head, and —-

                                                                       All she saw was the blinding                                                                        flash of a laser, permanently                                                                        damaging her vision. 

           And then she never saw anything again.

                                   Until the searing pain of the electroshock began                                    once more. 

           And the entire. 

                                                                       Scenario. 

                                    REPEATED.

                                                                                               “N O ! ”

[espionvge-blog]

lovestoubia:

Happy birthday Janel Parrish

[espionvge-blog]

She is so stubborn, her heart has an argument with her head every time it wants to beat.

Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless (via wordsnquotes)

[espionvge-blog]

golden-wondcr:

Freya had awoken hours ago and tried to get out of the cage that they were in. She had punched at the bars until her hands had become bruised. She knew that the dampers had kryptonite in them, but she couldn’t just give up. Since then she had been drifting in and out of sleep. She had woken up with her stomach grumbling. “I would love a pizza right now.” She said not expecting a response. “I’d settle for getting out though.”

              ❛ “----- I’d almost forgotten about food,” Drew admittedly bashfully, as the sound of     her stomach rumbling began to echo through the room. “My bad...” The spy mumbled,     a slight blush creeping up her neck. How she still managed to be such a dork in the face     of adversity ------ “Getting out sounds good to me. Getting out and getting pizza.     Thanks for giving me something to work towards,” she offered with a soft giggle.      “I’m Drew, by the way,” the brunette called out from where she was strapped to     a pole, trying to fill the deafening silence in the room with her rambles. “It’s nice     to meet you, though I wish the circumstances could’ve been better...” ❜

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blind-x-bat:

Donovan grunted in frustration, after a long while of struggling he had finally given up. The shackles rubbing against his skin were nothing short of painful. The man leaned himself up against the pole, wishing his friends were there to save him. He wasn’t normally afraid, but he was beginning to feel it. 

“Hey,” He said, just wanting to talk to someone. He swallowed, “Tell me you’re at least doing better then I am.” He said, talking to no one in particular, just hoping for a response.

             ❛ Drew’s first instinct, upon awakening in the cool, harsh reality of the middle     of NOWHERE, was to survey the room for familiar faces. The sight of a family member.     Something. ANYTHING.

                                             ... Nothing.

              But the voice of another was reassuring. Someone TALKING meant she     wasn’t alone. Drew had been on countless missions, but never once captured.     Unless, of course, you count her entire life growing up with H.Y.D.R.A...

              “----- It could always be worse...” the Johnson-Ward mumbled to herself,     before realizing the voice belonged to the same blind boy she’d asked for directions     some time back, when she first arrived at Aeterno. “Hey ---- Donovan, right? It’s     Drew. We met briefly...” She chewed on her lip, force of nervous habit.                                                                                         “You’re not hurt, are you?” ❜

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              ❛  She had been at the Academy for not even an entire summer, when everything     fell apart and people were disappearing left and right. People were fainting. There was     smoke. There was laughter. There was CHAOS. Through the smog, her mechanical eye     had detected movement, but nothing could have prepared Drew Johnson-Ward for     what came next. 

              The spy awoke to the sensation of rope burning her wrists and to the sound of     a girl speaking. Wasn’t that ----- Drew recognized the brunette from somewhere, but     had never gotten her name. The other seemed worse off than she, anyways, trapped     in a cage. “I’m --- Fine, yeah. It’s part of the job, right? No one’s replaced my good     eye yet, so I’d call it a decent day.” Crack a joke. Everything would be fine. Fake it      ‘till you make it. All that crap.                                         “---- Are you alright? How’s everyone else in there?” ❜

She awoke again, having been drifting in and out of consciousness as her body was too weak to fight the fatigue. Each time she woke, more and more of the taken seemed to be awake but still none could truly escape.

Sitting up, Alissa tucked her head to her knees and tried to just focus, to see if she could get her brother to hear her through their link. Please say you can hear me. I’m scared in here—please…nothing. Whatever was in those bars must be affecting her link, she realized belatedly. “FUCK this.” The russian muttered, struggling to raise herself to her feet and approaching the bars to call out– “how are you doing? Any of the freaks who did this make an appearance yet?”

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“When I said I loved you, I meant it.” cammie

@notmyfatherskeeper

                    ❛ It was almost like Drew could feel her throat BURNING,       heart pounding in her chest as her caramel eyes found those       of her closest [ and most treasured ] friend. 

                    “----- I know that, Cammie. And I mean it, too.”                                         Perhaps, too much. 

                    Was that a possibility?                     Was that something others experienced?                     Was Drew Johnson finally losing her mind? 

                    “I love you, too, Cam. There was NEVER any doubt                     about that, so don’t worry your pretty, little head.                                                 Alright?” ❜

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“Do you want to tell me what really happened?” ward

@damnitward​  

                                                ❛  “—— Sir?” 

                 It was more of an inquiry than an acknowledgement,                  the first year’s brows pulled together in a sculpted display                  of confusion. 

                 “Pardon my ignorance, Dad, but I’m not exactly sure                                                          what you’re talking about.” ❜

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“Woah, when did you get that?”

@audreyxward

                ❛ She blinks, a nervous laughter escaping from the spy’s lips      as Drew now found herself very, excruciatingly self-aware. Each of      the Johnson-Ward’s movements now felt forced, her smile plastered      awkwardly and arms dangling listlessly at her sides. 

                 “Is it that noticeable -----                  The eye, I mean -----                                                    You can tell?” 

                 Idiot, the brunette muttered to herself.                  Of course, it was obvious.                                                            Blatant.                   “In a way, I guess,                                                I did it to myself.” ❜

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“it’s okay to hurt & breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.” -Daisy

@daisyxquake​

     “Mom ----” There’s an edge to her voice, the hoarseness      of years of pain seeping into each syllable. “But if I don’t      ---- If I’m not strong, if I break down, I’m afraid I won’t be      able to stop. Besides... I hurt you, my siblings, this family.      And I have to make up for it. There’s no room for a break, now.”

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“just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.” -Emilia

@emilia-may

      Too many flashbacks. Too much pain. Everything was       overwhelming, searing hot fire, and ----- Drew couldn’t       fight back the bile in her throat, nor could she dispel the       nausea washing over her. “Emmy---” She croaked, unable       to refrain from the shivers and goosebumps now dotting       her body. “I’m okay. I’m here. We’re okay. I --- I’m breathing,       I promise.”

[espionvge-blog]

♗ camila

{ ♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse's lap. }

@notmyfatherskeeper

     “Cam--- Cammie?” A peaceful slumber was interrupted by      faint rustling, as the Johnson-Ward awoke to the image of      her beautiful best friend gazing over her. “I must’ve ---- Fallen      asleep, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, stifling a soft yawn.                                                     “What’ve you been up to, love?”

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♟ ward

{ ♟: Patching up a wound }

@damnitward

                 “I didn’t require help, Sir ----” Teeth clenched, breathing      steady. She wouldn’t panic, couldn’t panic. She wasn’t at      H.Y.D.R.A. anymore. And even if she was ----- Drew could      handle it. This. She would handle anything. Another moment      passed, and finally, she felt the wound fully stitched. “I’m sorry      for making you come out here to help me. You didn’t have      to -----” But he had come to her aid, her father always did.      He loved her. “Thank you, Dad.” Eyes diverted downward,      not because of the physical pain. “For everything.”

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                    For what it’s worth, Drew Johnson would have JUMPED at the chance       to be all dolled up, show off her most gracious ensemble, parade through the       gala like some pampered princess in those glorified fairytales the spy presumed       were read to children throughout their youth                                                                             [ Disney certainly did a fair enough                                                                             job advertising. Though the fairytales                                                                             DREW knew were darker. Grim.                                                                             Or, Grimm, rather. Those had always                                                                             been her favorite ].       And yet ----- She wasn’t filled with the excitement she tended to, anymore.       The prospect of social gatherings had the Johnson-Ward, instead, brimming with       anxiety, distaste, and just general aversion. She sighed to herself, crumpling the       delicate invitation in her hands and tossing it on the ground; defeated. Until the       disturbance, a sudden rush of energy encompassing the room as the one and       only Camila Temple bursted through Drew’s doorway. The agent was unfazed,       however, smirking up at the other’s blatant display of enthusiasm, shrugging       wryly. “Cammie, Cams, My Love, how can I help you today?” It was all light       tones and wholehearted banter until the Temple posed the question, at which       point Drew felt her expression drop. “The ---- The gala?” A moment of hesitation.       This was Cammie. And Drew trusted her closest companion with her life. She always       would. “I --- Guess that could be fine -----” The more she thought about it, the       more the first year’s mood continued to brighten. “Okay, yeah! I’d be honored       to go with my best friend -----                                                        That’s what this is, right?”

@espionvge

                      she had been debating the idea in her head since she had                       heard of the event. it seemed like a good idea in her head, seeing as                       how she didn’t really know much of anyone at the school but, she                       wasn’t sure how well drew would respond to it. and camilia didn’t                       want to make her friend uncomfortable or upset— anything but that.                       after a few days of sitting on the thought, though, the murdock-temple                       had decided: to hell with it. she’d never know the answer unless she went                       up and asked— so that’s what she was going to do. 

                      “little d!” since finding her friend at the academy again the girl had                       stopped knocking whenever she walked into her room— heaven help                       whoever was her roommate but camila didn’t care— and today was no                       different. the agent in training slung the door open, broad grin on her face                       and little flyer in hand. “babe, drewbie, angel face.” she fluttered her lashes,                       moving to slide onto the girl’s couch and lean back against it, looking for the girl.  “be my date to the gala, please?”

[espionvge-blog]

notaqualad:

             “– … yours.”

                             ❛ “Oh, I’d just love to see you try.” ❜

▲

@notaqualad

           ❝ It looks like you’re going to a funeral. ❞

[espionvge-blog]

lxstenupbitchcakes:

                  jessica almost choked on the laugh in her throat, one brow raised                   as she watched the johnson-ward. “—the hell does minor gay mean,                   drew? bisexual?”

     ❛ The spy’s eyes widened, shaking her head from sheer shame      before feeling a deep crimson spread across her face. 

                       “Wha —- What?                                    Bisexual?                                    Of course not.                                                Why would you think that?                                                Why would you say that?                                                                                          I’m straight.                                                                                          Stick straight.                                                Completely, undeniably                                                                        straight.                                                                                          Got it?” ❜

▲ Jess

        ❝ Oh, i’m not gay. I played in the minors but never went pro. ❞

[espionvge-blog]

damnitward:

he knows what she’s been trained, (NO FAMILY ATTACHMENTS), and what she’s implying with her words. ward purses his lips together a moment, taking his hand to cup the side of her face, brush back hair away from her ‘enhanced’ eye, and pulls his expression hard.  “and blood can be cleansing. a reminder we’re still alive. it’s still pumping. trying to go without it,” your family. him. “that’s death.”

    He hadn’t touched her like that —- Caressed her this gently, in                                               —- Drew couldn’t remember, exactly.     But the fingers grazing her cheek elicited a rise of panic     from the Johnson-Ward, whose eyes were now widening,                                                                                   alarmed.                   “You know what else is a reminder that I’m alive?”     Drew is practically hissing through her teeth now, pausing     to remind herself of her manners.                                                             “ —– Electroshock.                                                                          Torture, sir.”     She turned her head away from his touch, hand subconsciously     trailing underneath her mechanical eye.                                                            “ —- That is something                                                                    I can live without.”

▲ Ward

     ❝ Blood is family. Blood is pain. And blood is death. ❞