hauntedinfamy

[hauntedinfamy]

SHE’S PROUD OF BEING A VILLAIN; TO BREAK HEARTS, TO SPLIT SOULS, AND TO LEAVE WOUNDS WHEREVER HER MAD EYES SETTLE ON. FOR HER DEMONS MADE A DEADLY MISTAKE, THEY POURED TOO MUCH HATRED AND MALICE INTO HER VENGEFUL SOUL  —  NOW SHE IS THE MONSTER THEY HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT.

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#CRIMSCNMALICE / WHAT IS MORE UNFAIR THAN HAVING TO CHOOSE BETWEEN BEING A MONSTER OR BEING A HERO?  —  WHEN YOU HAVE TO BE BOTH. WHEN YOU LEARN THAT THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED WITH MORE THAN JUST GOOD INTENTIONS.

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consider this a v small plotting call! mainly for ELPHABA, as she’s who is very awake, but I’m down to plot for any of my muses!

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EXTREMELY LOW ACTIVITY. HIGHLY SELECTIVE. PRIVATE.

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*sticks my leg in the air* I desperately need to be active here I’m so sorry for being like this

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don’t mind me just fixing my main blog stuff 

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❛  BURNED BUT NOT BURIED THIS TIME... ❜                                               written by briar  +  written by meg

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grlmrror:

SHOCK  REGISTERS  SO  CLEARLY  ON  HER  FACE,    breath  catching  in  her  chest.  she  hasn’t  seen  her  sister  for  so  long,  and  their  last  meeting  certainly  wasn’t  an  amiable  one    ––    and  though  she  still  held  some  fragment  of  a  grudge  deep  down  within  her  for  what  she  saw  as  a  bitter  betrayal,  it  was  quickly  forgotten  about  when  she  realised  just  what  was  going  on.  governor  thropp  might  not  have  overlooked  the  grievances  that  she  so  dearly  clung  onto,  but  nessa  is  more  than  willing,  especially  in  the  circumstances  that  they  found  themselves  in.

❛  is  it  really  you?  ❜        her  voice  is  barely  above  a  whisper,  yet  the  din  of  the  dinner  fails  to  reach  her  ears.  there’s  an  intensity  in  her  gaze,  one  that  might  suggest  she’s  close  to  shedding  some  tears  of  her  own:  and  maybe  she  is.  it’s  a  dizzying  experience,  almost,  seeing  a  sister  that  you  thought  for  sure  would’ve  been  killed  in  oz  standing  before  you  in  storybrooke:  thank  goodness  she’s  already  sitting.  hesitant  as  nessa  is,  she  reaches  for  her  sister’s  hand,  hoping    (  or  perhaps  even  knowing  )    that  it  won’t  be  rejected.

THERE’S NO HESITANT IN TAKING NESSA’S HAND into her own. caring not how her purse clatters to the floor. elphaba even brings her other to rest atop the back of the woman’s hand. almost afraid if she were to let go, she’d fade away. 

“ it’s me. ” she whispers. a heavy breath escaping her, and she’s forced to hesitate. overwhelmed wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe it. “ a little ... a lot less green, but still me. ” that was what made elphaba who she was. no skin color, no title, nothing had ever been able to define elphaba as she truly was. that no matter what she had been subjected to, no matter how many times she had been battered, there was still a light behind her eyes. this triumphant fight within her that simply would not die. as anxious as she was, struggle as she might, elphaba had never been one to simply give up.

“ how are you here? ” she questions. features growing more serious for a moment. “ how are you alive? I saw -- ” she glances around, instinctively bringing her voice down, “ I saw the house, nessa! I saw ... ” elphaba’s resolve fails, and tears begin to fall. streaming in silence down thin features, before a quiet sob escapes her. resting her forehead upon her sister’s knee. those moments would forever stick with her. the joyous music that rang throughout the land, mocking her pain. the air being torn from her lungs. the scratch within her throat from screaming that would stay for days. that day haunted elphaba — and yet here they were.

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BLOG UPDATES.

So I’ve done some thinking and here’s going to be the chances to this blog.

MUSES REMOVED:

Bryce Wayne

Shannon Trevor

Zelena

Urbosa

I most likely won’t be doing starter calls or anything random in general, it’ll be more memes and plotting based stuff. 

Secondary muses now must be plotted with first before any sort of interaction (including memes) happen.

SECONDARY MUSES ARE AS FOLLOWS: 

Madame Leota

Mirana Alan

Sweeney Todd

Maleficent

Most importantly -- I am going extremely selective and private on this blog. Extremely. I will only be following and writing with very close friends that I’ve likely met through Mal first. This doesn’t mean I won’t interact at all with new people, but I’ll definitely be a bit more selective than I have been. I barely have enough energy to try and handle all new interactions on Mal, and I don’t have the energy to bring that here. All of my energy, whether I like it or not, goes into handling Mal and everything there. I want to be able to come here and write and get away from that, not constantly feel like I need to drum up new stuff. I think that’s been my problem. So I’ll be here sporadicly and as my muses wake up, and when I need a mental break from being on Mal and getting overwhelmed.

All muses, old and new, I am willing to write on dis/cord. Mutuals and friends, don’t hesitate to ask if you’d like to write on dis/cord, I’d love to! 

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sxmethingbreaking:

Cora took a breath. The box sprang open. It wasn’t possible. And yet…Cora glanced up from the box to the eyes of a grown daughter she’d never really known. No denying it now- her suspicions had been correct. Cora’s hand fluttered up to rest on her chest. Fingers clenched into the fabric of her shirt. 

“It is you,” she muttered, swallowing hard. “Many years ago, I…I had a daughter. A daughter I couldn’t keep. So I…I had to give her away.” Cora blinked and bit back a sad smile. “I always wondered…”

It was a lot to take in. Cora reached out, taking the wooden box back into her hands. There was so much else to show her now, now there was no denying their relation. Elphaba could be no one else, after all. Cora had no sisters, no brothers. No other family at all, save Regina. Her mouth had gone quite dry, but she spoke again anyway. 

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

“You...” 

Elphaba’s shaking her head. The realization hitting her like a freight train -- she had family. She had a mother. Her mother. Not a woman who had passed her off as her own, solely to not risk angering her husband. Who ignored her every chance she got, unable to face the shame. A life of lies, leading to Elphaba’s world coming down crashing down with the reading of a single journal page decades later. The pieces of Elphaba’s story coming together one by one. 

Elphaba’s hands remain still, even after the box is removed from her grasp. She wanted to run. Far, far away from there. Away from the fear and uncertainty lingering within her chest. Wasn’t that what she always did? She ran. From the Emerald City, from Oz, from everything she knew, she ran. But there was no running from this. Running from what she truly was -- someone’s daughter. Something she had never been. She finally lifts her hand to grip at her waist. The other fiddling with pin situated on the label of her suit jacket. Spinning it slowly, simply needing something. 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” She whispers. It’s the first thing she can manage to say. It was the truth after all. After everything else she had gone through, what she had suffered through at the hands of family and strangers, Elphaba could hardly believe Cora had done anything worthy of an apology. It wasn’t her fault. She had so many questions, but they could wait. She had waited this long. She could certainly wait a little longer.

“I...” She struggles, swallowing hard. Hand coming down to hit against her thigh. “I always wondered why. Why I never looked like anyone. In my family, I mean.” Verdancy aside, of course. There’s another pause. A deep, shaking breath escaping her. “It’s because I look like you.” 

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grlmrror:

OZ  SEEMS  LIKE  NOTHING  BUT  A  DISTANT  MEMORY  TO  NESSA  NOW.    and  so  it  should.  all  she  remembers  from  home  is  heartbreak  and  embarrassment,  and  that  cyclone  that  she  can  only  presume  was  responsible  for  bringing  her  to  this  town  in  the  first  place.  life  as  meredith  coleman  wasn’t  so  bad,  after  all    ––    though  if  she  never  sees  another  dental  impression  in  her  life,  it’ll  be  too  soon.  the  reunions  that  took  place  after  the  curse  broke  left  a  bitter  taste  in  her  mouth,  though.  there  were  no  familiar  faces  in  the  crowd,  nobody  who  came  running  to  greet  her.  even  if  there  were  people  from  oz  in  storybrooke,  what’s  to  say  they  wouldn’t  dread  the  very  sight  of  her,  of  the  eminent  thropp?

for  the  most  part,  she’s  always  kept  to  herself.  meredith  wasn’t  a  very  sociable  person,  and  so  nessa  doesn’t  see  why  she  should  change  that  now.  but  it  had  become  something  of  a  ritual  for  her  to  start  off  her  morning  with  breakfast  at  granny’s,  and  old  habits  are  hard  to  break.  she’s  sat  at  a  table  in  the  back,  away  from  the  door  and  from  prying  eyes:  waiting  somewhat  patiently  for  the  rest  of  her  order  to  arrive  as  she  fiddles  with  her  mug,  gaze  tracing  the  layers  of  stains  that  colour  the  table.  it  seems  to  be  a  busier  morning  than  most,  though  she  assumes  the  faint  shrieks  of  children  from  outside  indicate  it’s  the  beginning  of  summer  break.

she  basks  in  the  quiet  hum  of  the  diner  for  a  short  minute,  reaching  for  the  newspaper  that  lies  at  the  very  top  of  her  satchel.  that’s  how  she  remains  for  the  next  little  while,  the  crossword  section  keeping  her  fully  engaged  with  only  the  occasional  pause  for  a  sip  of  her  coffee    ––    until  the  bell  above  the  door  rings,  and  soon  after  she  can  feel  a  pair  of  eyes  aimed  directly  at  her.  

she’s  used  to  it,  at  this  stage.  it  seems  that,  no  matter  the  realm,  a  wheelchair  sticks  with  you.  she  much  rathers  the  curious  types,  the  ones  who  ask  questions  about  what  happened  to  her  and  has  she  always  been  like  this.  their  bluntness  is  something  she  can  appreciate,  no  matter  how  tired  she  is  of  giving  answers.  the  pity  and  the  stares  are  much  worse.  nessa  decides  to  keep  her  own  eyes  trained  at  her  paper,  figuring  they’ll  move  on  once  they  get  over  the  initial  shock:  what  there  was  to  be  shocked  about,  she’s  never  known.  yet  they  don’t.  another  few  clicks  of  heels  on  the  diner's  tiled  floor  bring  the  offender  right  to  nessa’s  table,  and  she’s  left  entirely  unsure  of  how  to  react.        ❛  can  i  help  y––––  ❜        words  are  cut  short  when  the  young  woman  glances  up,  and  the  face  that  greets  her  is  a  familiar  one.

HER HEARTBEAT POUNDS LIKE A DRUM within her ears. the natural music of the diner slowly fades away. as if they were the only two people in the entirety of the town it seemed. it was natural how elphaba bent at the knee, bringing them to eye level. suddenly, she was decades younger. trunks at their back, arriving to shiz for the first time. dozens of eyes on the two who stood out the loudest in the crowd. just as they always had. it seemed regina was not the only sister she would be reunited with upon the breaking of their little curse. and yet, it still did not feel real to elphaba. almost instinctively terrified she would wake up, and this would all be a distant memory of what they had been denied. the most cruel of reminders.

she opens her mouth to speak. hoping in the second she has, she’ll know exactly what to say. why did you say in that moment? what did you say to the sister you thought to be dead? whose death you blamed your own self for? who made you want to rip your own hair out every day of your life, and yet you still mourned for years to come? who made life so much more difficult, and yet their lack of presence made it so much worse? they were no longer the young, ozian women they had once been. obviously, there was so much more to both of their stories -- and here the pages continued to turn. elphaba scrubbed her hand down the bottom half of her face. unable to stop tears from welling up within her eyes. 

“ nessa. ”

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THE FIRST FULL DAY OF SUMMER BREAK had always been a day that Elphaba cherished. After months of being cooped up in her classroom, there was no thought that brought her more happiness than the idea of having time to herself. Well, and her new found family that is. That was exactly why she had strolled into Granny’s that day. Excited to surprise her mother and sister with lunch, to celebrate the day. It was the least she could do.

Granted, it was still all new to her. Their little family. She had gone from having no one to having more than she could have ever dreamt of. And yet still, there was pangs of aching within her heart. Thinking of her Ozian family. And while she had discovered they were, indeed, not family by blood, and no matter how skewed everything had been, Nessa had been her little sister despite it all. And Elphaba knew she would always see her as such. The closer she grew to Regina, the more guilt she felt. Hating how she and Nessa had never been lucky enough to have that chance.

Heels clicked upon the titled floor. Barely heard over the midday chatter of the room. It was busier than Elphaba liked, but she was determined. She glanced around as she waited for her chance to order, patient as ever -- and that was when her face fell. Shock painted over thin, pale features. A ghost. It had to be a ghost, wasn’t it? A ghost of her past coming back to haunt her, to tease her already fragile mind. The longer she stared, though, something settled well within Elphaba’s stomach. This was no ghost. This was not a dream. This was...Nessarose. Sitting merely a few feet away. Question after question should have passed through her mind. And yet, there was nothing. Purely overwhelmed by the mere sight of her.

It takes a moment before she’s able to muster the strength to walk. Feeling as if her knees might give out, and she might simply clatter to the ground. A few steps needing to be taken before she rounds the table. Standing in silence, with only widened eyes and a slightly slacked jaw to her name, as she looks down at her.

･ ° ✦ @grlmrror / oh my fucking god we’re doing this

[hauntedinfamy]

#MISTRESSMXLEFICENT — WRITTEN BY BRIAR / SHE’S PROUD OF BEING A VILLAIN; TO BREAK HEARTS, TO SPLIT SOULS, AND TO LEAVE WOUNDS WHEREVER HER MAD EYES SETTLE ON. FOR HER DEMONS MADE A DEADLY MISTAKE, THEY POURED TOO MUCH HATRED AND MALICE INTO HER VENGEFUL SOUL  —  NOW SHE IS THE MONSTER THEY HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT.

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ALSO OH MY GOD THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HERE!