#also the lyrics are from yes by trophy scars

[snarky-does-art]

I hope my insides pull apart, I got some sorting I need to do

[bebepac]

The Pink Lady

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt# 42 “Let’s be honest with ourselves, we knew this was going to happen” will appear in bold

Liam, Riley, Hana, and Maxwell all belong to Pixelberry.  All other characters are my own creation to support our story.  

This is the 7th Chapter of Fast Forward To catch up on Liam and Riley’s future Life please click 

Fast Forward

I wasn’t kidding when I said this story keeps taking turns on me, and it did yet another one.  I really can’t control this one.  There are some mentions of some things if you are not following  the Life of Riley  or  some of my wacky drabbles or one shots.  Mentioned in this fic:  Riley’s horrible driving, The Pink Lady Guitar, and Riley’s Accident.  To get more back ground on them check out Ride with Me (my very first fic i posted)  and Ghost Girl from the life of Riley, and January 18th  Links are :  

Ride With Me

Ghost Girl

January 18th

Song inspiration for this chapter:  When I Was your Man by Bruno Mars.  

https://youtu.be/ekzHIouo8Q4

I don’t own rights to any of the music or lyrics displayed.  

Summary:  Von stays at the palace per Riley’s request.   Riley spends the day at the private beach with friends with Von.  Von attends his first courtly event, as Riley’s guest and gives her a very special gift from her past.

Warnings:  Profanity, depression, sadness, domestic violence,  Angry Liam.... becomes Evil Liam.  This just went dark.  Sorry guys not my intent.

Word count: 2733

Tagging:  @queenjilian @dcbbw @burnsoslow @loveellamae @lovemychoices @bbrandy2002 @nomadics-stuff @kimmiedoo5 @cordonianroyalty @cordonia-gothqueen @lodberg @aestheticartwriting @glaimtruelovealways @custaroonie @texaskitten30 @janezillow @atha68 @my0123456789universe @kaitycole @indiacater @losingbraincellseveryday @yukinagato2012 @furiousherringoperatortoad @marietrinmimi @hopefulmoonobject @sevenfuckslefttogive @ac27dj @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @mrsdrakewalkerblog @islandcrow @xpandabeardontcarex  @axwalker @sanchita012 @queenwalton @flutistbyday2020 @gabesmommie1130  @mom2000aggie @queenaaliyah @jared2612​

"Maybe you can fool her with that you are on vacation bullshit. Cut the crap. I saw your little interview. What do you really think you can accomplish by coming here now Donovan?"

"I think the real question is, why are you so insecure with your relationship, that you are coming at me like this bro?"

"Because I feel something from you; the only reason you have come here is to try to take My Queen back with you. You do realize we have a family together right? Riley loves me and our children, and I love my wife."

"Then why is she not your equal?  The way you overrule her and talk over her.  I have seen you do it millions of times in press conferences.  You even did it to her today.  I asked Riley was she pregnant. I didn't ask you.  You answered for her, like she was incapable of answering for herself.  No wonder I've been hearing from her so much lately.  I feel like all you want is a pretty faced, pretty shaped Queen to give you heirs. Riley is more than that. She is not a trophy. You treat her like she's property. Probably the only reason you want another baby is to show someone that she's yours."

"SHE IS MINE! You are sadly mistaken if you think you are gonna swoop in and …."

"Look who's up?" Riley walked back into the room holding Jaiden bouncing him on her hip. He rubbed his eyes. Liam gave him a kiss on the forehead. "My baby boy."  Ellie and Adam followed behind her, looking inquisitively at the stranger standing before them. 

Von gave them a tiny wave. Adam waved. Ellie looked right at her father. Von could have sworn he saw Liam slightly shake his head "No." Ellie did not wave back. 

"Von, I'd like you to meet our children. Ellie, and Adam say hello."

Both children holding close to Riley's hips peer around her but only Adam said hello. 

"Ellie where are your manners? Say hello to Mommy's friend."

Ellie said nothing but ran across the room to Liam. 

He picked her up holding her in his arms. 

"I'm sorry Von, she's usually not shy. I don't know what's gotten into her."

"No it's okay."  He looked at Ellie. Of course he was training her to be just like him. She was the crown princess.  They both had the same look in their eyes, staring at Von, anger. 

"And this is Jaiden."  

Von remembered everything Riley had ever told him about  Jaiden. When Riley's memories came back she had told him about what happened with him that day during the accident.

"He would be so happy you named one of your sons after him."

"I think so too." Von softly touched Jaiden's cheek and  he giggled.  He grabbed Von's fingers holding them. 

These two were definitely Riley's children, that Riley had the primary influence over them.  Not Crown Princess A-hole that was looking down at him sneering just like her father. 

"Von do you have a place to stay? We have plenty of room you could stay with us. We could get…"

Liam cut her off  yet again. "I'm sure Donovan has made his own arrangements Riley, we shouldn't interfere.  He said he is in fact on vacation, he probably has a plan."

Riley laughed out loud. 

"Actually Liam not really. Riley, you know me so well. One of the things that is my fatal flaw that Riley loathed was my lack of planning. However, bucket list item #13 stay in a palace, so there you go!"

"We can get someone to bring in your stuff. I assume you rented a vehicle?" 

"I did, my stuff is in the car. 

"We can do something fun but low-key tomorrow because I'll have the kids. You don't mind that do you Von?"

"No not at all, it will be nice to get to know your kids."

"We will have a great time, I could even drive."

"NO!" Both Liam and Von screamed in unison. 

"So she's never been able to drive, these are not recent events from just not driving much?"

"LIAM!!!!"

"And I was there when she took driver's ed….three times."

Liam laughed, shaking his head at Riley.  "You're lucky, you're beautiful and charming."

"VON!!!! You gonna tell my business out on the street like that?"

"Mommy says snitches get stitches," Adam chimed in loudly.

"That's right, baby and Mommy's always right."

Von laughed out loud, "The New Yorker is strong in this one."

Von knew right then, if Riley ever left Liam, and he got another chance with Riley, he wouldn't have a problem loving adorable Jaiden and Adam as if they were his own kids. Liam would never let Riley take Ellie. She was too important to him. She was him.

Servants helped bring his items in but one box he wouldn't let out of his sight.  He held it carefully.  "It's a surprise," he said.

"Tomorrow we are having a small get together here in the ballroom.  Please say you will attend as my guest."

He nodded to Riley.  

The next morning after breakfast Riley security team took them to the beach. He noticed right away the way Riley's guard Nico was staring at her in her bathing suit. That's why Liam wanted another child. He's staking his claim on Riley. Liam was so transparent, at least in Von's eyes. 

But how did Riley truly feel? he wondered.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you recommended this.  I’ve never been so relaxed in my life.   Who knew the thing I was missing from my life was a private beach.”  

Riley laughed.  “I feel the same way when I come here.   I think about all the times we went to the Island to go to the beach.  Do you remember?!? Shoulder to shoulder with people.”  

Inviting her friends also built in babysitters so that he could talk to Riley.  He had already noticed some things he was worried about.

He decided to just jump into it.

“Riley, is something bothering you?”

“I’m just fine.”  She said smiling.  A smile he saw didn’t reach Riley’s eyes.  He saw sadness.  He’d seen that type of sadness in her eyes before.  Riley. Was. Not. Fine.

He watched Riley when she didn’t think she was being watched.   She took a sip of her water and put it down.  He noticed her hands were shaking.  

Riley looked deep in thought.  

**** 10 months ago *** “We’ve tried multiple times to turn the baby, but it’s just not working.  The baby is still breech. Being so close to your due date Your Majesty. I think a C-section would be best.  

“Both Ellie and Adam I had naturally.  “Will there be scars?”  

“We’ll do our best to make them as minimal as possible.”

“And there’s no chance the baby will turn so Riley can deliver naturally?”

“There’s always a chance King Liam, but it looks highly unlikely at this point.  A C-section is the safest option for both mom and baby.”

Liam gently rubbed Riley’s large rounded stomach.  “Yes, we want them both to be safe.  Is there anything else Dr. Ramirez?”  

“That’s all I can think of, we’ll have you back next week, as we’re going to start weekly visits from here on out.��  

“I just had one more thing, Go ahead Liam  I’ll be out in one second.”

He walked out the door. Riley waited until he closed it behind him.  

She chuckled at Riley, “You would think it’s your first baby how nervous you look.”  

“Well,” Riley tried to make her voice sound as nonchalant as possible,”  Since we’re doing a c-section would it be possible to perform a tubal ligation while i’m open already?”

“Queen Riley, you have plenty of child bearing years left, if we do the procedure and you change your mind, we might not be able to reverse it.”

“I won’t be changing my mind, I want the procedure.”

“King Liam hasn’t mentioned anything of the sort.”

“It’s not King Liam’s body, It’s mine.”

Dr. Ramirez gave her a knowing look.  “Is it though?  I don’t feel comfortable performing such a procedure on the Queen of Cordonia without the King’s consent or knowledge. Is there anything else?”

“No, That about covers it,” Riley commented with a stiff smile, walking out the door.  

He watched Riley looking down at herself.  Her hand still shaking touched her stomach for  a moment.  

There were sad tears in Riley’s eyes.   He remembered yesterday when he asked Riley was she pregnant and the mortified look that crossed her face for a second, that Liam didn’t even notice.

Realization hit Von like a ton of bricks.

“Riley. Two things.. First…. Why haven’t you told Liam you’re pregnant, and Second, why aren’t you happy about it?  

"It wasn't always like this. I really think somewhere he loves me. He is a good father Von, but not so great a husband. Sometimes he's sweet, but Sometimes I feel like he forgets we're supposed to be ruling together and makes decisions for all of us like I don't matter. Ellie matters more to him than I do. He wanted more children, so I've given him more children.  I've done and given him everything he asks of me, and at the end of the day, he doesn't take me seriously. I'm not enough. He's the ruling monarch with royal blood. No matter how much I give him it's never enough Von."

"You're enough for the right person Riley. You're enough for me."

Von took her hand in his. She quickly pulled away.

"Please stop. I can't take any more complications than I have right now."

On the way back they stopped with Maxwell to get Von a nice suit. Von saw immediately that Riley was his best friend by the way they talked. He liked Maxwell right away too. He reminded him a little of Daniel.

He sat at the dinner with Maxwell and Hana, they both were her best friends . They talked and laughed with him like they were old friends. He noticed Riley watching them from her dais as she sat next to Liam in their matching thrones.

She made her way over to him "Are you guys having fun?"

"Lots of fun Little Blossom, can we keep him?"

Von chuckled, "Maxwell you're hilarious. And how many stories does this guy have about peacocks?"

Riley let out a deep belly laugh, "He has millions. I've yet to hear the same peacock story twice."

"So Liam wanted me to ask you something, would you be willing to do a song for us, to open up the social part of the evening? I know you're on vacation."

Was this dude really this stupid? He was about to light a fire in this place, and in Riley.

"I'll do it for you, but I need to get something first."

He came back shortly with the same box he had been so protective over. He whispered something to Hana and she nodded.  Riley introduced him when he was ready.

He stood up. "Thank you for that lovely welcome Queen Riley. We grew up together in New York.  And she doesn't know that I spent the last 3 years looking for this, and just found it two weeks ago. This was part of the reason I'm here is to return it to its rightful owner. He opened the box revealing Riley's pink lady guitar. He walked closer so she could see it.

She jumped up out of her throne, gasping. Liam grabbed her arm. She slowly sat back down into her throne.

"I know what you're thinking. When I went to my fans to help me find it, I left one detail about The Pink Lady off the information.  After a few false alarms, Someone messaged me about this one. I just asked them one simple question, was there anything unique about it? They told me yes, on the back there initials engraved in the wood RB and DJ."  

Liam looked at the tears in her eyes in confusion.

"My Dad bought me that guitar. You know I lost almost everything I owned after the accident.  I could never find it, I looked for it, every chance I got."

When he handed it over to her she quickly checked the back.  She remembered her and Von engraving their initials after she played her first song she had ever written for him. She closed her eyes, also remembering walking around the store with her Dad, finding it for the first time.  She opened her eyes again looking at Von.

He smiled. "You'll never guess where it was.  In California. Thirty minutes from where I live."

"Hana if you would."

Hana sat at the piano playing for him. When he started the second verse, of the song,  Von's eyes met Riley's, and they never left hers.

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh And it haunts me every time I close my eyes

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh Mm, too young, too dumb to realize That I should have bought you flowers And held your hand Should have gave you all my hours When I had the chance Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

Now my baby's dancing But she's dancing with another man

Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong Oh, I know I'm probably much too late To try and apologize for my mistakes But I just want you to know

I hope he buys you flowers I hope he holds your hand Give you all his hours When he has the chance Take you to every party 'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance Do all the things I should have done When I was your man Do all the things I should have done When I was your man

The crowd roared in applause.  

"Riley, play something for your people."

"That won't be necessary," Liam interjected.

Riley ignored him and had gotten up putting the strap over her shoulder.  

"I'm a little rusty, so hopefully it will sound okay.  This has always been my favorite song since the first time I heard it."

When Riley played the first few chords,  Von knew what she was playing.  She was playing their song. Playing it for him.

Liam recognized it right away too.  She could feel Liam's anger  radiating off him.

When the song was over everyone was cheering for Riley.  Liam excused them. Von saw how he gripped Riley's arm as they walked out the ballroom, and he didn't like it.  He followed them. As he got closer to the door. He heard Liam's voice full of anger. "HOW DARE YOU EMBARRASS ME LIKE THAT!"

Then he heard an unmistakable sound. He slapped  Riley.

Von pushed the door open seeing Riley in tears holding her face.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING MAN?!? DID YOU JUST HIT HER?!?!?"

"Von please go," Riley pleaded. "You'll  just make it worse."

"Riley you don't have to take this from him. Is this how you treat the mother of your children?!?!?"

"I will treat her however I please."

He yanked the guitar from Riley grip, holding it in the air.

"Please don't Liam. Please, I'm sorry Liam. PLEASE DON'T!!!!"

Liam ignored her. He slammed it hard to the ground, shattering it.

Riley fell to her knees bursting into tears. "This wasn't about him Liam, My father gave me this, and YOU RUINED IT!!!!!!! WHY?????"

"Maybe now you will think twice about sharing looks of lust for another man so blatantly in front of your King and His People."

He stood  towering over them. Von's grip tightened around Riley as to protect her.

"Let's be honest with ourselves, we knew this was going to happen."

He stared down at Riley on the floor crying, shaking. Von held her in his arms, her back against his chest. Von was staring at Liam in pure disgust.

"I'm sure you know you're not welcome in the royal chambers tonight, unless you're ready to do whatever your King desires you to do for you to be forgiven. Otherwise, find alternate sleeping arrangements."

Liam walked out the room, the door slamming behind him.

“

[camillemontespan]

bad things one shot [raleigh carrera x marina cortez]

This is the first fic I’ve written in god knows how long. I’ve been feeling very anxious lately and I still do, but I’m trying my best to get through it and be positive. 

This is not one of my best writings, not by a long shot. But I wanted to write again and so this is what I’ve ended up with. 

The song Bad Things by Machine Gun Kelly & Camila Cabello inspired this fic and the lyrics are also in this. In this fic, just pretend that Marina sang this song instead of Camila :)

Warnings: NSFW. References to drugs. Raleigh x Marina are not a wholesome couple..

@ibldw-main​ @pug-bitch​ @omgjasminesimone​ @raleighcarrera​ @mvalentine​ @vaginas-lost-baguette​ @katedrakeohd​ @emichelle​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @gardeningourmet​ 

*******************************

Raleigh lit another cigarette as he listened to Marina curse under her breath. Paper covered with her loopy handwriting scattered the floor around her; she held her pen tightly, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as her eyes scanned the latest lyrics she had written. She was sat down on the floor with her legs crossed and her rising frustration was becoming more evident. 

‘This is fucking shit,’ she muttered. ‘What the hell is that supposed to even mean?’

Raleigh sighed and moved to sit down beside her. ‘Do you need help?’ he asked.

‘No..’ Marina said unconvincingly. ‘Maybe.. Yes.’

Raleigh chuckled and slung his arm around her shoulder, bringing her in close to him. As he rested his chin on top of her head, Raleigh read the lyrics she had written so far. 

Marina was recording a song with the rapper Machine Gun Kelly and had been put in charge of writing it. Although it was MGK’s song and Marina was only featuring, she was the artist who could write magic on a page. Marina Cortez was the whole package: beautiful, talented, creative, hardworking. She was the most in demand singer in America right now.

But for some reason, the lyrics weren’t coming easy to her. 

‘This is good so far!’ Raleigh told her honestly. ‘What’s the problem?’

Marina bit her lip. ‘It feels.. Fake.’

Raleigh frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

Marina sighed and ran her hands through her raven hair. She leaned into Raleigh and examined her fingernails. ‘Usually, I write from the heart,’ she told him. ‘Personal stuff. Like how much music drives me, how alone I used to feel, you know? Songs for a lonely girl who spends all her time in her bedroom. I want my fans to be able to connect with me and feel like I’m there for them. But I don’t know what this song is supposed to be. MGK has given me free rein but I can’t find inspiration. So this song is gonna tank, his reputation will be ruined and everyone will hate me-’

‘Mari, you’re spiralling,’ Raleigh interrupted. He took the paper and examined it in more detail before picking up her pen. ‘You gotta relax,’ he continued. ‘You’re too close to this. Let me help.’

Marina sighed. ‘Thank you.’

Raleigh smiled. ‘How do you feel right now? Like, in life. How do you, Marina Cortez, feel?’

Marina’s red knit sweater was too long for her arms. The material covered her fingers. Marina played with the sleeves as she thought to herself. ‘I feel good,’ she finally said. ‘Accomplished. I have everything I ever wanted..  I have you.’

Raleigh felt a blush creep on his cheeks. He and Marina had been dating for the past four months and everything was good. Sure, they had their moments. Moments when they argued passionately and fiercely after too many drinks. Moments when things got too heated in a smashed up hotel room and they swore they would never speak to each other again. Magazines and paparazzi lapped it up. Many nights photographers captured images of Raleigh and Marina that should never have made it into print; but that was what the couple had signed up for. Their lives were no longer private. But god, they tried hard to keep it so. 

Raleigh was happy. He got to wake up beside the most beautiful girl in the world. He got to kiss her whenever he wanted, feel her skin against his whenever he wanted, feel her fingernails against his back whenever he wanted. He remembered one night when Marina had gently grazed her finger along his cheek as she whispered in a drunken haze, ‘I want you forever even when we’re not together.’

‘Wait,’ Raleigh said suddenly, his fingers tightening on the sheet of paper. He crossed out a lyric and wrote, muttering under his breath, ‘I want you forever even when we’re not together..’

Marina turned pink now. She remembered that night. ‘You want me to write about us?’ she asked, her voice cracking. ‘Do you think MGK will stand for that?’

Raleigh smiled. ‘You said you write about personal things,’ he explained. ‘So write personally.’

*******************

Over the next few hours, Raleigh and Marina wrote together until they had the bare bones of a song. Raleigh ordered pizza and found bottles of beer; Marina snuggled into him as she wrote, occasionally stopping to sip her beer and ask for his opinions.

‘Am I out of my head?

Am I out of my mind?

If you only knew the bad things I like

Don't think that I can explain it

What can I say, it's complicated’

Marina sang softly, her voice hesitant as she tried out the words that rolled like silk from her tongue. 

‘Bad things, huh?’ Raleigh asked. ‘Care to elaborate?’

Marina laughed and covered her eyes with her hands. ‘Noooo!’ she protested. ‘The words just came to me, don’t ask me what they mean!’

Raleigh let out a deep chuckle and tried to prise her hands away from her eyes. ‘Tell me!’ he said. ‘I won’t laugh!’

Marina kept her hands clamped to her eyes, refusing to look at Raleigh. Raleigh rolled his eyes and kept trying to prise her hands away, wanting to see the girl hiding herself. As he pulled at her hands, Marina shuffled away from him. Raleigh followed, not relenting. 

‘You know I love the chase,’ he teased. His fingers wrapped gently around her wrists. ‘I can do this all day, Mari.’

Marina giggled and scooted away from him, enjoying their little game. Raleigh pulled her back, tackling her to the floor, laughing as she screamed in surprise. His hands held her wrists above her head as he pinned her down. ‘Raleigh!’ Marina cried. ‘Get off!’

‘Nah babe,’ Raleigh said, smiling down into her brown eyes. ‘You’re mine now. So, bad things. What bad things are you talking about?’

Marina’s eyes glinted mischievously. She brought her legs around his waist and pulled him further down onto her. ‘What do you think?’ she murmured. 

Raleigh let out a low growl. He knew exactly the kind of bad things she was meaning. The bad things they performed in the dark. The bad things that nobody in the world would think Marina Cortez enjoyed. To the outside world, Marina Cortez was the innocent pop princess who was dominating the charts. Only Raleigh knew what she was really like. Only Raleigh knew the hidden side of Marina, the one that came out when they were alone. The Marina who liked to be pinned down by Raleigh’s tattooed body. The Marina who liked to be fucked hard against the wall. The Marina who left scars on Raleigh’s back. The Marina who screamed his name as he ravaged her on a nightly basis. 

But he also knew the Marina who told him her deepest fears. The Marina who was terrified of being alone. The Marina who felt inferior to everyone in the music industry despite her incredible talent. The Marina who was vulnerable and scared in this shiny, glimmering world of trophies, accolades and red carpets. Raleigh loved that Marina. His Marina. 

‘I like bad things..’ Raleigh murmured, leaning down to press a kiss against her neck. As he pulled away, he gently nipped at her skin with his teeth, causing her to let out a gasp. Marina’s eyes darkened as she looked into his; both of their pupils were dilated and their hearts beating an extra beat inside their full chests. 

‘I like bad things too,’ Marina whispered, her hands reaching out to slide under Raleigh’s t-shirt.

Raleigh let out a chuckle as he felt her fingers graze his skin. ‘So you’ve said,’ he replied in a low voice. ‘How about you prove it?’

*******************

Marina’s fingernails dug into Raleigh’s tattooed back as he fucked her hard, just the way she liked it. She didn’t care that the hardwood floor and the impact of Raleigh on top of her was hurting her spine. She didn’t care that her cries echoed around the room, probably disturbing the occupants of the neighbouring apartment. 

All she wanted was to feel Raleigh Carerra inside her. 

‘Oh god, Raleigh..’ she groaned, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth. 

‘Mari..’ Raleigh whispered, his breath hot against her ear. ‘You like this?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered back, digging her nails into his skin harder and scratching down his spine. ‘Keep going.’

Raleigh began to move against her more rapidly, his pace increasing as they gathered momentum. Without warning, he reached down to gather her up so she was straddling his lap as he sat on the floor; Marina instantly took control. 

She was on fire. Her black hair was a tousled mane down her back. Droplets of sweat trickled down her temples as she moved her hips, grinding against him hard and deep. She held onto Raleigh’s shoulders for dear life as she ground into him, letting out husky groans as she enjoyed the feel of him inside of her. 

Raleigh’s fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her hard. Their sex was always like this; passionate, all encompassing, volcanic. Pure fire.

*****************************

Later that evening, as Marina and Raleigh wrote together, they remembered nights where they inhaled white powder chased down with vodka. Nights where memories blurred together, things were said, hands touched, clothes stripped. 

I can't explain it

I love the pain

And I love the way your breath

Numbs me of novacaine

And we are

Always high

Keep it strange

Okay, yeah, I'm insane

But you the same

The night where Marina only wore a white vest top and lace briefs, her dark hair tangled down her back as she danced around the living room with a bottle in her hand. Raleigh watched her from his position on the couch, his eyes dark as he took in the way her hips snaked and rolled as she moved around the room with the lights of Los Angeles lighting her up like the star she was. 

Marina reached out to take the paper that was now strewn with lyrics. With her eyes glinting, she smiled to herself as she scrawled more words. She felt adrenaline as the song began to come together. She sat back and started to sing softly. 

The way we love, is so unique

And when we touch, I'm shivering

And no one has to get it

Just you and me

‘Awww, Mari..’ Raleigh joked, pulling her in to press a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re so sentimental!’

‘Shurrup!’ Marina protested, laughing as Raleigh began to press quick and tiny kisses all over her head. Unlike their sex a few hours previously, this time they were playful with each other. The two sides of Raleigh and Marina that nobody else got to see. The sides that they only showed each other. 

**************************

Nails scratchin' my back tatt

Eyes closed while you scream out

And you keep me in with those hips

While my teeth sink in those lips

While your body's giving me life

And you suffocate in my kiss

Marina watched with wide, nervous eyes as MGK read the lyrics out loud. She had arranged to meet him in a recording studio in downtown LA and she was feeling apprehensive about the entire situation. She still felt like an imposter when she met these established musicians, even though she was now one herself. Any minute now, she was waiting for someone to find her out. Tell her to pack her shit and go home. 

‘Marina, this is awesome,’ MGK finally said after a long moment. ‘Jesus. I mean.. I knew you were good but this is fucking the SHIT.’

Marina exhaled, relief flooding her veins. ‘Oh my gosh, thank you!’ she said. ‘But it wasn’t all me; Raleigh also wrote. He’s due a writing credit.’

MGK eyed her and looked back down at the lyrics. ‘Is this about you guys?’

Marina tucked her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. ‘So, when do you want to start recording?’ 

[wisteriamoons]

Pinky Promise

So I see a lot of au’s where Kotoha lives, but stays with Douma and never sees the carnage he causes. 

So, this oneshot kinda explores what would happen if Kotoha escaped unscathed that night. If she had stayed on the road, running till daybreak. Unknowingly missing the human village, instead running even further to a specific house.

What if, Kotoha Hashibira, became a Demon Slayer?

Words: 1821

--

Through all the abuse and manipulation, from the deepest parts of her memory, she knows she’ll never forget one thing. What had occurred on April 22nd. 

The delivery lasted hours, but through the pain and tears, she won’t remember it as a bad thing.

No, not even close. 

She’ll remember it as the day it changed her. 

--

At a mere seventeen banking on eighteen girl, she had married young, desperate for a family. Her family had been killed by what the locals thought was a bear, and Kotoha Hashibira found herself all alone.

She made one error, unfortunately, and that was marrying too quickly. Too fast. The man seemed so perfect and loving, and while his mother was stern and icy, he seemed wonderful.

That quickly changed, however.

She found it hopeless to escape, not finding a way to run. But nine months into the marriage, she gave birth. She cried tears of joy, finding her son to have little to no attributes from his father.

“Inosuke,” she whispered. “My little Inosuke.”

He gave her a reason to keep going, to stay hopeful and face the horrors of the day with a brave face.

And then she remembers the night she did escape. 

With only the clothes on her back, she had managed to wrap Inosuke’s favorite blanket around him. The night was treacherous, winter just settling in and snow caking the ground like powder. But no matter how cold it got, no matter how tired she was, she kept running with her one-month-old son in her arms.

She remembered hearing about a paradise, a place where you could escape to when you had nowhere else.

That was her other error. 

Douma was a wonderful host. She saw the magic he performed personally, as he healed her from her partial blindness, her scars, everything she had accumulated. He called her beautiful. He treated her like a goddess.

She stayed.

She didn’t realize how much of a trophy Douma saw her as. And as she sang, took care of her son, sat side-by-side with Douma, made people happy. She didn’t know the real horrors of the cult she had found herself in. She only had unconfirmed suspicions filtered out by her own bias. People were disappearing, but Douma said they left for brighter pastures. Why would she have any reason to not believe him, when he took her and her son in from the cold?

The suspicions grew, no matter how much she thought otherwise. The feeling in her gut made her feel more uneasy as the days wore on.

--

The stench was pungent, nauseating, revolting.

She had awoken, taking Inosuke in her arms to look for the source. Perhaps someone hunted? Yes, yes, that had to be the--

“Oh, Kotoha, you weren’t supposed to see this,” Douma said smoothly, wiping the blood from his lips. Kotoha stood, heart palpitating, hyperventilation threatening to begin. On the ground was an acquaintance, the friendly Aki, dead in a puddle of her own blood. 

“You…” Kotoha breathes in, stomach churning. “You monster!”

“Kotoha, listen to me, my b--”

“I will have none of it! You spouted nothing but horrible lies! You planned to eat me! You planned to eat Inosuke! Fiend! You awful, awful man!”

Kotoha didn’t listen to what Douma had to say next. She ran once more, with only the clothes on her back. 

She had fallen for another man’s tricks again. Not only putting herself in danger, but Inosuke, too. Tears threatened to build. 

“I’m so sorry, Inosuke. I’m sorry mommy’s stupid! I always make mistakes, I always go the wrong way! Sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m your mother, I need to keep it together.”

Inosuke just babbled, only knowing his mother was upset, but not of the danger that followed behind. She ran and ran until day broke just behind the trees. She hadn’t realized she lost Douma hours ago.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease, I can’t lose my son,” Kotoha cries to herself, holding him closer to her chest. “I can’t die!”

The first house she saw she practically flung herself at it, banging at the gate with a terrified fist. 

“Please! Please, oh please let us in! Please! We’re being chased by a cannibal!” Kotoha wails, slamming her fist faster. “Please, open up!”

It was met with succession. 

An old woman opened the gate, and Kotoha ran inside, the woman closing the gate behind her. The old woman had long graying hair, soft blue eyes and a purple kimono.

“A cannibal?” the old woman questions as Kotoha dashes up the steps of the Japanese house.

“Ye-yes, I just saw him eat another with my own eyes, oh goodness please let us stay at least the night.”

The old woman took pity on her, and let her inside. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but that wasn’t a cannibal. You probably saw the workings of a demon.”

“A… a what?” Kotoha asks, panting as the adrenaline wears off. The woman guides her over into the kitchen, having her sit at the kotatsu. Kotoha refuses to put Inosuke down, so she keeps him close to her. The woman starts brewing some tea, placing the kettle over the fire. 

“A demon. You don’t know where you are, child?”

Kotoha shakes her head slowly. Inosuke snoozes in her arms.

“You’re in a Wisteria House. The crest you saw out front marks this place as a sanctuary for demon hunters, from the Demon Slayer Corps. I usually only provide to demon hunters, but considering you were being chased by a demon, I hold no problem taking you in for a while.”

Kotoha feels tears build up in her eyes, and she bows her head.

“Thank you so much. But, what is a demon?”

“A demon is someone that has been infected by a demon’s blood and turned into a blood-thirsty monster. They’re usually unintelligent, only looking for, well…”

Kotoha nods, sniffling. 

“This demon wasn’t unintelligent though.”

The old woman frowns.

“Oh my… I’m glad I let you in.”

The old woman doesn’t elaborate, which Kotoha is quite thankful for. All she wanted to focus on was Inosuke.

“If you only provide for free for demon hunters, then I’m willing to work here,” Kotoha speaks quietly. 

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of hard work, plus you have a babe.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. Inosuke is very well-behaved for a one month old, he’s so sweet to me.” Kotoha beams down at her son, kissing his forehead. The woman hums.

“Well, I’m Himari. What is your name, child?”

“Kotoha. Thank you again for taking us in.” Kotoha bows her head once more, which Himari replicates. 

--

For the next few weeks, Himari helped Kotoha settle in along with Inosuke. Kotoha had been right about one thing; Inosuke was surprisingly well-behaved for a baby. He slept through the night, never made a real fuss even when he was hungry or his diaper needed changing. He seemed to really love silk and velvet, the birds chirping in the morning, books, a boar plush his mother made, and hearing his mother sing their special song.

“Pinky promise, pinky promise, such small hands you have~”

It warms Himari’s heart, hearing her sing it when it was bedtime for Inosuke. The lyrics changed almost every night, but every word was meaningful.

Kotoha learned more of the Wisteria Houses, and Himari herself. Himari was going to turn sixty-three soon, but had the energy of a twenty-year-old. All her immediate family lived far away, but her extended family was large. So large, Wisteria Houses basically spanned the whole country. It was fascinating. 

About a month into Kotoha’s stay, a group of demon slayers led by the Flame Pillar came to stay at the Wisteria House. 

“Mr. Rengoku, may I ask you something?” Kotoha asks before bed. Shinjuro Rengoku gives the woman a curious look as he wipes his blade down with a cloth. “I’m curious as to what demon slaying is like, can you tell me about it?”

Shinjuro was surprised that she wanted to know in the first place. After all, she looked like a gentle nadeshiko; she even reminded him of his wife. But he answered her question anyway; if she wanted to know, he wasn’t going to discriminate against her for it. 

“It’s hard, you may have to leave home for months at a time, and there’s a large possibility you can die.”

“Then why did you join, Mr. Rengoku?”

Shinjuro pauses.

“My family goes generations back for Flame Breathing, but I also found it’d be worth it to save people and keep them from the dark.”

Kotoha listens intently, her usual kind face into more of an unreadable expression.

Shinjuro wouldn’t find out until years later why she asked. Himari found out immediately, after the group went to sleep.

“Himari, I want to learn how to be a demon slayer.”

The old woman nearly drops her pot of water, looking at Kotoha incredulously. 

“Koto-- why?”

Kotoha glares at the wood of the kotatsu.

“I’m sick and tired of being a defenseless woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing. I want to be able to protect my son and make a world where he doesn’t have to be scared to go out at night. I want to be stronger, I want to help people.”

Himari looks at Kotoha, her incredulous look fading.

“Are you sure, Kotoha? Demons are dangerous, I’ve especially heard the Final Selection is ruthless; you’re either alive or you’re dead when you come out.”

Kotoha gazes at the bassinet which holds a sleeping Inosuke.

“I’ll take my time. And I know it’ll be hard, much harder than anything I’ve faced. But it’ll be worth it.”

Himari stares silently at Kotoha, and then gives a weak smile.

“I know someone who can teach you, then. I’m willing to also help take care of Inosuke, too.”

Kotoha looks at Himari, smiling as tears stream down her eyes. 

“Thank you, Himari. Thank you so much.”

--

This is where it all began.

Kotoha stands outside of the Wisteria House, looking much different, more older. She now had the Demon Slayer Corps uniform on, a long blue haori with light yellow bell patterns decorating it. Every step she took, the actual bells sewn into a red bracelet on her left wrist tinkled softly. She opens the gate, a smile on her face. She’d be getting her Nichirin blade soon.

“Mama!” Inosuke cries. She had been gone for only a week, but for five year old Inosuke, it felt like forever. The small boy runs over to her, and she crouches as she hugs him close, stroking his hair. 

Himari watches from the porch, smiling proudly at the mother and son. 

“I told you I’d be back, my little dragonfly,” Kotoha laughs, kissing his forehead. “I pinky promised it, after all.”

This is where it all began.

For the Bell Pillar, Kotoha Hashibira. 

[patricksilvrrozartistry]

Current Music Obsessions: March 2019

Been pretty busy lately, so I'm a bit late on this. A lot of purging happened this past month, just like there probably will be in April. But let's just get into these honorable mentions and mild obsessions.

Whist - Thinking Straight The Uncharted - Revival Akoma - Humanity Tamta - Replay Keiino - Spirit in the Sky Imperia - Unspoken Words Mgla - Exercises in Futility V mAdAlice - Skin Cupcakke - Squidward Nose Lighthouse in Darkness - The Melancholy Movies Shokran - Ascention Achilla - Wild Flower A$AP Rocky - Fukk Sleep feat. FKA twigs Parting Gift - Pale Imperia - The Scarred Soul Imperia - Blinded Tamara Todevska - Proud Tulia - Fire of Love (Pali Sie) Hatari - Hatrid Mun Sigra Main-de-Gloire - Run Battle Beast - Eden New Years Day - Shut Up Lahmia - Elegy for a Dying Sun Fleurie - Explosions of Grandeur Bloodred Hourglass - Valkyrie

Atomic Symphony - Abyss Rogue - Para Marina - Handmade Heaven Kate Miller-Heidke - Zero Gravity My Propane - The End Fallujah - Ultraviolet Enemy Inside - Phoenix Netta - Bassa Sababa Conan Osiris - Telemoveis Ester Peony - On a Sunday All but One - White Noise Bilal Hassani - Roi Hecate Enthroned - Erebus and Terror feat. Sarah Jezebel Deva Infected Rain - Passerby DuncanLaurence - Arcade Delain - Hunter's Moon Celestivl - Blasphemous Beast in Black - From Hell with Love The End of Melancholy - Peaceful Warrior Imperia - The Ocean Delain - Art Kills Doxa - Love Letter to a Butterfly Sergey Lazarev - Scream

Now let's see those songs that I was really obsessed with.

Within Temptation - Trophy Hunter

This is such an epic track and a perfect way to close an amazing album. They really outdid themselves with this album and you can truly feel that they love what they've created with this release. The power, the drama, the energy; it's all there. This is what we've been waiting for and it was definitely worth it.

Ursine Vulpine & Annaca - Without You (Extended)

I wasn't expecting to love the Solace EP as much as I do, but this song in particular is absolutely everything. It's full of so much raw power and emotion. Annaca's voice is so powerful and she channels emotion so well, and pair that with the powerful orchestrations, it makes this song absolutely majestic and amazing.

Katerine Duska - Better Love

She's representing Greece in Eurovision this year with this pretty and fun song and is my second favorite this year. I love that she has a lower vocal range and that it isn't like a typical high-ranged pop singer; it has thickness and power to it. I really hope she makes it far in the competition.

Jonida Maliqi - Ktheju Tokes

This is my favorite song for Eurovision this year. I hope Albania win it or at least get very far in the competition, because this song is so powerful, dramatic and beautiful. I just can't get over how amazing this is. The instrumentals, the production, the voice; so much yes.

Devin Townsend - Genesis

This is the first single off his upcoming album Empath and it's perfect. Devin truly is an amazing musician. Who would've ever thought to do something this weird and creative? It definitely has me interested in the new album, but I will say that the other singles he's released for it so fat haven't caught my attention nearly as much as this one.

Spiritbox - Belcarra

I'm pretty sure this is their most aggressive track to date. They really tapped into the death metal with this one, but still managed to incorporate a soft bass solo with some pretty cleans. But in true prog fashion, went straight back to being an intense song. Also, I love that Courtney wears a yellow dress throughout the video.

Walk in Darkness - Time to Rise

I really prefer Nicoletta with these guys over Kalidia, but then again I'm really particular about power metal. These guys just have that dark, broody atmosphere that I love in gothic metal bands and I'm really curious as to what new music this will bring. And I love that this song really shows off Nicoletta's vocal range in the best way possible.

Munro - Matricide

These guys went from having new singles that were atmospheric-prog to full blown prog-death and it's insane. It's a bit cheesy, lyrically, during the exit in my opinion, but Jake really dove deep into his emotions for this track. It's definitely very different from what they've put out previously and I'm curious as to what direction they're going to go in.

Disperson - Pale Grey Shrouds

Found these guys after seeing their Facebook page pop up a lot and I'm so glad I decided to check them out. This is their only song so far and it's such a beautiful gothic doom metal track. It's a bit on the ambient side which I absolutely adore. I can't wait for them to release more material.

Ex Libris - The Exile

This might be a stretch to say to some, but this is one of the best songs ever written in my opinion. I don't want to get too deep into explaining this song, because you need to experience it for yourself. It's the last track off Chapter 2: Anastasia Romanova from their third release called ANN, and it's perfection. Dianne put so much raw emotion into this and it's absolutely bone-chilling. Definitely go listen to this, because I don't want to spoil the experience that is this song.

And that's it for March! Let's see what April has in store for us.

[pvcked]

“ oh, darlin’. ” darby shakes her head and clucks her tongue. “ don’t make me use this stick on something other than the puck. ”  

or, alternatively :  ‘tis i, linc, back at it with my second !!  say hello to darby belle montpellier,  varsity womens’ hockey team captain & songwriter/frontwoman of west ham’s own folk-soul band,  pelagia. !!   hit that read more to learn more about this southern belle .

[   d    a    r    b    y        b    e    l     l     e      ––    M A N I C    P I X I E    D R E A M    G I R L .

✔ ┊❝ ( natalia dyer. 18. she/her &. cisfemale ) rumor around town is that darby belle montpellier was on one of the buses that left for the field trip. they’re the eighteen year old that resides in new ham. over the summer news spread that she prayed to make a deal with the devil to bring her mother and father back to life, but suspects something may have gone amiss when laying out the terms, but who knows if that’s true or not? what we do know is that their friends describe them as saccharine & virtuosic, but who knows when they’re known to be diaphanous & dewy-eyed from time to time.

( &&. general information )

full name: darby belle rose montpellier

nickname(s) or alias: darby belle, darby, dee, belle, db ( by her teammates ), puck ( by her late father only )

preferred name: darby belle. belle’s not a middle name; it’s part of her first! but she won’t correct you! darby’ll do just fine.

current age: eighteen

astrological sign: pisces

gender: cisfemale

preferred pronouns: she/her

sexual preference: bisexual

romantic preference: biromantic

home environment: a modest two-story condominium, owned by her older sister, elody mae. they’ve lived in the same condo since moving to west ham in the summer of 2014, following their father’s untimely passing. they originally hail from small-town tennessee, so their condo took a while to acquire the typical connecticut aesthetic. darby belle’s hockey and speed skating trophies are displayed proudly in the front foyer. their kitchen displays elody mae’s art, and features lots of succulents and small-scale flowers. darby’s room doubles as a music space, so her guitar, banjo, and piano line the far wall. a secondhand drumset sits in the corner for when her band convenes there, or when she goes ahead to demo entire songs herself.

current occupation: student, student athlete, musician.

language(s) spoken: english, enough spanish to get by ( acquired from high school classes, but her southern accent kinda bleeds through? so kids in class always kinda smirk when she tries out the speaking exercises  ).

native language: english.

current relationship status: happily in a long term relationship with clark, @wildguard .

( &&. background )

reason behind name: darby belle was named after a beloved family dog who was tragically killed by an automobile the night before she was born. how... quaint. her mother insisted on adding “belle” to match her older sister, elody mae’s, “name flow”. her father never really approved, but he his second army deployment began just before her birth, so her mother went ahead and did it anyway.

birth order: second ( and youngest ). her older sister and current guardian, elody mae, was born 7 years prior.

ethnicity: american. the montpellier family had strong roots in small-town jonesborough, tennessee. people always speculate there’s some french in their bloodline, way back, but they don’t speak it now.

nationality: american.

religion ( tw: death, suicide ): it’s complicated. she was raised christian. went to weekly sermons. sang in the church choir. but after her mother died in the housefire that nearly wiped out the entire family when darby was 6, she began to... question. if god were real, why would he let bad things happen to good people? her father returned from afghanistan in 2007 and seeing him struggle with ptsd despite her persistent prayer contributed to her doubt. he took his own life in march 2014, the day before darby’s 13th birthday. from that point on, her view on religion became pretty tumultuous. believing there’s nothing out there makes her anxious. but believing in a higher power makes her angry. she still struggles to reconcile her relationship with god, and wonders if she’ll ever be able to. moving to west ham offered a new start, and she’d always yearned to get out of jonesborough –– she just never thought losing her father would wind up being the way so-called-god would choose to make it happen.

political views: fairly moderate. can agree with liberals and conservatives on different issues, but mainly toes the midline. maybe a bit more left than right. she’s... not that keen on discussing all of that stuff. she never got to come out to her mother or her father, so it’s all very... touchy.

financial status: comfortable, but by no means as affluent as the rest of west ham. she and her sister live off of their inheritance and their father’s life insurance policy. but elody mae is intent on using it as minimally as possible, so they live modestly. their condo is adorable, and offers just enough space for the two of them, plus occasional guests. they eat well, but smart. elody mae’s income as a local commissioned artist and interior decorator isn’t colossal, but it’s enough to avoid skimming much from the inheritance. that’s the only money they’ve got for darby’s college. but she’s fielding several hockey scholarship offers, so hopefully tuition won’t even be an issue.

hometown: jonesborough, tennessee. yes, she has the accent. you don’t have to tell her it’s adorable –– she already knows.

level of education: high school senior. darby does well in school. she’s no ap student, but she’s got brain cells and knows how to use ‘em. she often chooses to forego studying to create new music, and between pelagia. & the varsity girls hockey team, she doesn’t have much spare time for homework. she’s in a lot of teachers’ good graces, so they let it slide, for the most part. this past year, her grades have slipped a bit –– she’s just got other priorities. catch her drawing music staffs and notes in her biology notes instead of copying down cell structures. scribbling lyrics in the margins of her in-class essays. she’s a dreamer. 

( &&. physical appearance )

looks like (or face claim, if applicable): natalia dyer. for now, with mid-length brown, curly hair. i’d like there to be a point where she impulse decides to cut and dye it platinum blonde... so maybe we could plot that out, somehow. like a brittany 2007 moment. a nervous break.

height: 5′0. she’s tiny. nobody expected her to be the rumored hockey legend transferring to west ham high her freshman year. but there she was, a zippy right wing on the ice. her speed’s uncanny. her agility’s surreal.

weight: 108 lbs. fuckin’ protect her.

shoe size: 6

figure/build: very, very thin. surprisingly muscular, though. not built like a typical hockey player but boy, does she command the ice. her strength, like... bewilders everyone. recruiters came to see her play this spring and fuckin’ lost their shit. this girl ?!  captain ?!  right wing ?!  does she disintegrate when she’s checked ?!?!

hair colour: light brown.

hair length: down to her shoulders. curly.

eye colour:  aqua blue. 

glasses?: no, but she does own zenni optical glasses for the computer.

skin tone: light, some faint freckles that intensify with sun exposure.

tattoos: none. she’s gotten into actual fist fights on the ice before. but needles? scary stuff. she’ll pass.

piercings: she has her ears pierced, but rarely wears earrings, since they’re prohibited on the ice.

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: some burn scars from the housefire that killed her mom in 2007, on the back of her left forearm/wrist and across her stomach. she’s really insecure about them and almost always wears long sleeves because of it. she also has a birthmark shaped like canada on the arch of her left foot. when they were alive and darby was very young, her parents used to joke that god put that mark there because he knew their daughter was going to be a hockey star.

dominant hand: right-handed, hence she plays right wing. but she prefers to cut food with her left.

if painted, what color are their nails?: she keeps her nails very short, and they’re usually painted neutral shades: gray, pink, nude. she’s recently gotten into a forest green phase.

usual style of clothing: long sleeve sweaters, jeans, vans. graphic long-sleeve tees –– she really likes the nature designs on patagonia ones, or cool/eclectic designs. converse. timberlands, leggings, and oversized sweatshirts. denim jackets. in the winter, she’s always bundled up because she runs cold. honestly? she’d sooner wear a hoodie and shorts in the summer than throw on a t-shirt. she does wear short sleeves, but mainly for team workouts and runs.

frequently worn jewelry:  she wears her father’s wedding band around her neck on a thin gold chain, always tucked under whatever top she’s wearing. her sister does the same with her mother’s.

describe their voice, what accent?:  she’s got a very soft voice. light tennessee accent. when she sings, it’s got this delicious rasp and rawness to it. i’ll post a spotify playlist soon with the vibe –– but think molly burch, tomtsu, julien baker, mothers, angel olsen, and you’re on the right track.

what is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: darby’s laugh sounds kind of like breeze-rustled leaves and cotton-candied skies: light, melodic, buoyant. she speaks quietly, for the most part, but that shouldn’t be mistaken for complacency. she speaks slow, deliberate. her words matter. she’ll speak quicker when she’s mid-laugh, or when she’s intoxicated. when she’s angry, she’s more likely to bite her tongue and stare. her doe-eyes speak leagues. on the ice, her dialogue’s punchy, gutteral. she calls out plays and opposing teams are flabbergasted that such a strong sound can come out of such a small frame. 

describe their scent: vanilla, lavender, eucalyptus. she dabs a few drops of essential oils on instead of perfume. she’ll really only wear a marketed fragrance after practice or games –– and then it’s dolce & gabbana, light blue.

describe their posture: darby holds herself with a silencing kind of grace –– she glides through rooms. her chest is always open, collarbones broad. she has a great deal of strength in her legs and in her stride, but the way she carries herself resonates more like a dancer or figure skater than a hockey player. on the ice, she’s all forward momentum and down-striked strides, whipping around and coming at opponents with a vengeance.

( &&. legal information )

any speeding tickets?: no, she never got her license! her sister will typically drop and pick her up from events, or she’ll carpool. in terms of arriving for the trip, she walked across town, since they got into an argument about the letters her father left –– elody mae had them locked away in a bank safebox, and hasn’t let her younger sister read them.

have they ever been arrested?: no. honestly, could anyone arrest this sweet cupcake? her bandmates have gotten busted for shoplifting snacks high before, but darby’s always been able to sweet-talk them out of punishment. too bad they’re not around to steal her pretzel sticks now. not that stealing is necessarily still a crime...

do they have a criminal record?: no. squeaky clean. she respects authority, almost too much. so this new ham situation... it’s going to throw her for a loop.

have they committed any violent crimes?:  not if you don’t count breaking an amherst high girl’s nose during a fist fight on the ice. she called one of her teammates something terrible, so... the bitch had it comin’.

property crimes?: no.

traffic crimes?: no opportunity to! unless west ham suddenly persecutes for jaywalking down empty roads in the wee horus of the morning.

other crimes?: not yet.

( &&. medical information )

blood type: b positive.

date/time of birth: march 18. 1:42pm. the only labor nurse on duty had to put down her bologna sandwich to assist in the birth. on a potato roll!  she complimented darby’s mother at the end: “congrats on the bologna. i mean –– baby.”

place of birth: franklin woods community hospital, jonesborough, tennessee.

vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal birth.

sex: female

smoker? / drinker? / drug user?: no / yes / pain pills. more than she should. shhhhh.

addictions: pretzel sticks. she’s gone days without real meals because she’s just been munchin’ on those things.

allergies: strawberries. peanuts. bees. good luck surviving in new ham, gurl. hope no one poisons ya!

ever broken a bone?: her left clavicle in pee wee hockey, 2005. fractured wrist from getting checked, 2009. right ankle, mid-game pileup, 2015 –– still scored, though! three broken ribs from a particularly gnarly check ( three girls v. one ), 2018.

any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: insomnia, since her mother’s death. worsened with her father’s passing. i imagine it’ll get worse with her sister disappearing, too. her mild dependency on painkillers.

any medication regularly taken: leftover meds from her injuries. it started with the pills she found in her dad’s medicine cabinet, after his passing. it’s not... bad. yet. it’s harmless.

( &&. personality )

direct quote from them:  UNO.  DOS ( her chillin’ with her athlete broskis. )  TRES ( her babysitting ) .  “ honey, you got a big storm comin’. ”

positive traits: tenderhearted, saccharine, strong-willed, musically inclined.

negative traits: diaphanous, dewy-eyed, easily manipulated ( somebody break her ).

likes: underdog succulents: the ugly ones people tend to walk past. late nights spent mixing new tunes. singing along to the radio, rewriting top 40 songs to sound more interesting. performing at small local gigs with pelagia. ; the cacophonous beauty of each soundcheck before doors open. the scrape of metal on freshly smoothed ice. the feel of her favorite hockey stick in her hands. taped fingers. narrowed eyes. confused gasps as she whizzes past bigger players, barely detected. pulling long sweater sleeves over her hands. finger-picking her acoustic guitar. clark beecher. singing stevie nix in the shower obnoxiously loud, just to aggravate her sister. coconut macarons, fresh from the oven. pretzel sticks. blue gatorade. toe-tapping in the locker room between periods, to her pumped up playlist. texting silly pickup lines to her friends. trading cute little jingles for rides around town. petrichor. sunflowers. bees ( from a distance ). worms, insects, dirt. she loves cupping her hands around beetles and showing them around the place like they might stay a while.

dislikes: being cold. birds. crows, specifically –– they ripped a bag of pretzels right out of her hands, once. unsweetened coffee. sore losers. waking up, and the momentary serenity before her life story locks back into place. the smell of smoke. fires. paying $20/month for her father’s inactive cell line –– they have yet to deactivate it. knowing that the last thing she ever said texted him was, “ can you bring a gatorade to the game tomorrow? yellow kind. thx. ” thx. text talk. :-) . smiley faces with noses: only her dad was allowed to use that kind. drew barrymore. short sleeves. high heels. remembering.

strengths: darby belle has the capacity to be compassionate toward anyone. almost to a fault; it’s been exploited before and i doubt those times’ll be the last. great texter. she can channel such wild doses of emotion into her music –– take away the lyrics and you’ve still got such magic. add the words back in, and it’ll do an even better job of wreckin’ ya. she manages to befriend a wide variety of people: because of her band, she’s mixed up with some eclectic folks. her role as varsity captain makes her accessible for most of the school’s athletes. i like to think she’s down with the bros? isn’t afraid to play-fight, mess about. despite all she’s been through, this girl’s got a real knack for life.

weaknesses: yearns for stability, but the world’s kind of delivered that a bit late. prone to rampant reminiscence. sells her soul to her passions, so other obligations fall to the wayside. still can’t figure out snapchat.  will defend her teammates ‘til the cows come home, and that’s gotten her injured on the ice before.  kind of cultivating a dependence on painkillers.  can’t hide when she’s teary-eyed.  can’t hide emotions at all.  when she falls in love, she falls  h a r d .  and when others feel something for her, she often lacks the ability to see it.  short-tempered with her sister.  lets anxieties fester and build up until she lashes out at someone ( usually her sister ) .  stutters when angry, sometimes, so will often avoid the issue or just stay silent about it.  prone to heartbreak.

insecurities:  what if she could have done something to save her mom? her dad? what if this is all some kind of punishment for her religious doubts? is god laughing down at her? does he even exist?  maybe we’re all just living on borrowed time.

fears/phobias:  snakes.  being stung by a bee.  never being loved  /  never having the wherewithal to find it.  not getting a hockey scholarship.  emptying the medicine cabinet.  not being able to call her dad’s cell to hear his voice.  losing elody mae.  losing everyone.

habits:  tapping her fingers on flat surfaces.  skipping meals when she’s stressed.  texting thumbs-up emojis to avoid having to give an actual answer to “ how are you? ” .  masking darker thoughts with game suggestions and silly jokes.  deflection.  wearing her father’s old army tees to bed, and sniffing them each time as if the laundered clothing might still hold onto even just a whiff of his cologne.  falling for the wrong people.  believing.  letting her nail polish chip and chip and chip until all that’s left is a silhouette of pigment.  biting her nails.  midnight runs.  pressing leaves into notebooks to capture moments for which she lacks the words.  over-gifting outside her means, arguing with her sister about it later.

quirks: bites her bottom lip and rolls it between her teeth when she’s thinking.  squints directly at the sun despite being scolded for it for years.  latches on to friends’ arms as if the universe might tug them apart at any moment, and navigating the school parking lot is exhaustively complex –– like she might get lost; like she might lose them.  calling instead of texting.  sniffing peanut butter: she can’t eat it, but she loves how it smells.  sleeping all curled up in a ball, on her left side, with the blankets tugged up tight against her chin.  wearing beanies and baseball caps indoors.  waking up early enough for church each sunday: getting dressed, beginning the walk across town, only to turn back halfway.  running drills at the rink instead of attending lunch hour.  jotting down lyrics on standardized tests.  humming in school stairwells, when she thinks she’s alone.  tapping her locker dial three times with her index finger before putting in her combo. wriggles her nose when she’s trying not to laugh. gaze always, always drifting to the nearest window.  funky patterned socks.  she has a pair with picasso.

hobbies: hockey. guitar, banjo, piano, drums. singing. songwriting. running, weightlifting. elody mae tried to get her into yoga, but her headspace is far too cluttered.  making late-night ice cream runs to the local parlor, because she knows the owner and he’s always ready to give her a free scoop.  

guilty pleasure:  the chainsmokers. they’re shit songwriters, but their songs are vibey –– if you tell anyone she told you this, she’ll hit you with her hockey stick.

desires: to get out of west ham in one piece.  to find some kind of meaning.  to feel something more, or less, or different than what she feels now.

wishes: she could have told her parents who she really is. her father could have seen her bring the west ham womens’ hockey team to the regional finals four years in a row. she wishes she could apologize to her father for not being enough to make him stay.

secrets: she stole her father’s dog tags and told her sister he must have pitched ‘em. she keeps them under her pillow. she’s never felt a love as strong as her songs might suggest. she’s popping pain pills to cope with things besides hockey injuries.

turn ons:  soft smiles. hand holding. shared gummy candies. someone who can watch hockey with her and not get bored. fake wrestling. dimples.  silly face tournaments.

turn offs:  prying.  counting on fingers.  preoccupations with time.  disliking vegetables.  top 40 pop.  people who won’t admit they’re afraid of the dark.

lucky number: 4. ( her jersey number, as per request. what her family used to be. )

pet peeves:  squeaky shoes.  mic feedback.  dull skates.  vanilla shakes that taste like nothing.  crunchy cookies.  stale pretzels.  people who make fun of her laugh ( sometimes she snorts ).

their motto:  “ hockey is figure skating in a war zone. ” –– her father.

( &&. favourites )

food: pretzel sticks. sometimes dipped in chocolate.

drink: water! or yellow gatorade.

fast food restaurant:  she misses bojangles.

flavour: vanilla.

word: perseverance.

colour:  army green.

clothing: though she doesn’t wear it a lot, she loves her hockey jacket. but it comes second to one of her dad’s deep blue sweaters –– it fits her almost comically oversized, and it almost, almost feels like his arms around her.

accessory: her father’s wedding band, secured around her kneck with a thin gold chain. or her hats: she loves beanies and baseball caps.

candle scent: she doesn’t fuck with candles. open flame. but eucalyptus, lavender, and peppermint make for a great diffuser blend.

game: hockey. ( jk, y’all already knew that! )  she gets a kick out of go fish. really!  and pick-up football.

animal:  any kind of insect, especially fireflies.

holiday: new year’s eve. she loves getting to blow party kazoos in everyone’s faces.

weather: breezy, sunny mornings, when the dew’s still clinging to glistening blades of grass.

season: mid-spring, after the rain, but before the blossoms finish opening. it’s beautiful. and she doesn’t have to worry about bees.

book: twenty-thousand leagues under the sea by jules verne. her father used to read it to her at night, chapter by chapter. it inspired her band name: pelagia .  it means the open sea.

artist: elody mae montpellier. she’s biased.

band/group: cigarettes after sex, stevie nix, amy winehouse, the band camino, car seat headrest, lany, daniel caesar, jeremy zucker. the beatles. the beach boys ( her dad loved them ).

song: don’t dream it’s over, crowded house.

movie/film:  the wedding date. she’s a sucker for those stupid rom-coms. the mighty ducks. slap shot.

tv show:  she grew up watching bob ross specials with her sister.

sport: hockey. speed-skating, for a brief time, when she was in elementary school.

possession: her father’s dog tags.  her lucky puck  ( he gave it to her after her first ever hockey game, complete with a heart and smiley face carved into the side ).

number: 4.

person: clark beecher. but she’ll tell you she doesn’t believe in favorites.

( &&. skills )

talents: musicianship. performing. songwriting. agile skating. playmaking. interpretive dancing. making her friends laugh. going cross-eyed for long periods of time. rolling her tongue.

ability to drive a car?: no. not legally. or well.

can they ride a bike?:  no. her parents never taught her. 

do they play any sports?:  hockey.  pick-up football games with her pals.

anything they’re bad at?:  meditating. lying.  makeup –– she doesn’t really wear any.

do they have any combat training? why?:  yes, some self defense moves her father taught her before her first day of middle school.  “ to keep those rotten boys away from ya, puck. ”

( &&. firsts )

childhood memory: her mother spilling roasted carrots and potatoes all over the kitchen floor. little darby belle watched from her high chair and laughed. her ma probably made a joke about confetti.

crush: lenny hawthorne, in preschool. the teacher handed out strawberries to the class and he volunteered to be her protector.

email address: heyitsdarby@aim.com

job: ice cream scooper. learn-to-skate instructor.

phone: a trackphone, shared with elody mae.

kiss: kitty hawthorne. seventh grade. because she said lenny wanted to learn if darby was a good kisser before he kissed her himself, and “ same blood means it doesn’t really count. ”  it counted.

love: clark. she gets starry-eyed just thinkin’ about him. her beautiful curly-haired doofus. she’s lucky.

sexual experience: with lenny hawthorne a few weeks after the kiss with his twin sister, kitty. only, throughout the entire time, darby belle caught herself wishing the lips against hers were a bit softer, and still tasted like grape chapstick.

( &&. childhood )

best childhood memory?:  it’s hard to pick one. she never really had a time in which both of parents were there with her, and choosing one? feels wrong. choosing any feels wrong. she likes when they were both alive. all of that time qualifies.

worst childhood memory? (tw: death, suicide) :  2007: waking up to the smell of smoke and a red-orange flickering light in the hallway.  waking up in the hospital to the news her mother didn’t make it. 2014: returning home from the game her father was supposed to bring gatorade to. finding him in their living room, slumped on the floor.

what were they like as a child?:  darby was always bright-eyed and sociable.  she rarely began conversation, but she’d inititate the precursor to it, running up to strangers, beaming at other kids in the park. it took a while for her to learn how to be aggressive on the ice: she didn’t want to be mean! her mother facilitated most of that –– “ your daddy’s a soldier, darby belle, don’t you forget that. ”

any crushes growing up?: a few. she probably would’ve had more, if she’d spent less time on the ice. or thinking about the ice. or using hockey as a way to avoid confronting her demons.

( &&. this or that )

expensive or inexpensive tastes?: frugal, but not inexpensive. a good middle ground.

hygienic or unhygienic?: hygenic.

open-minded or close-minded?: open, about most things.

introvert or extrovert?: extrovert, but prone to retreating into her thoughts.

optimistic or pessimistic?: optimistic, outwardly. sometimes it lapses to pessimism, but her natural disposition is peaceful –– so she can be angry and upset and unsettled, but eventually has to find some kind of way to mediate it.

daredevil or cautious?: cautious, to an extent. ( let’s change that. )

logical or emotional?:  emotional.

generous or stingy?:  generous.

polite or rude?: polite to most, even when undeserved. on the ice? she can be a menace.

book smart or street smart?:  street smart. she’s not not book smart, but her intelligence is definitely channeled more through the game and through music.

popular or loner?:  popular. darby’s a crowdpleaser. she ebbs and flows from sphere to sphere without much trouble. she fears being alone, and often prefers to have people around –– watch her struggle with having an empty home... yikes.

leader or follower?: leader. she’s hockey captain, after all. but she is quite impressionable, so others have a large impact on how she leads.

day or night person?:  day. but she’s most creative at night.

cat or dog person?: dog person, 100%. won’t hate on cats, but dogs love more openly. and she was named after a beloved childhood pet of her mother’s, so... maybe there’s some kind of soul connection there.

closet door open or closed while sleeping?:   c l o s e d . and barricaded.

( &&. social media )

do they have a facebook? twitter? instagram? vine? snapchat? tinder/grindr? tumblr? youtube? yes to all. briefly including tinder, at a hockey slumber party freshman year.

if so; name on facebook: darby belle. ( she leaves out her surname, because people never pronounce it right anyway. )

instagram user: officialdarbybelle

snapchat user: puckyouverymuch

( &&. musical tastes )

theme song: waiting for you –– tomtsu.  ( but it’s also canon her song... yep i did that. )

makes them sad:  our day will come –– amy winehouse. her mother used to cook to it in the background and serenade the ingredients. ave maria –– her father always used to beg her to sing it at christmas time, at their baby grand.

makes them dance:   blame it on a dream –– vhs collection.  it has vintage vibes. she can swivel her hips to this.

loves the most:  old fashioned –– bruno major.  it makes her cells thrum in the most delightful way.

( &&. miscellaneous )

do they have a fake i.d.?: yeah.

are they a virgin?: no.

describe their signature: neat spirals. looks a lot like calligraphy.

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?:  she’d be the unlikely underdog to come out on top.

do they travel?: not really. the only travel she’s ever done has been for hockey games and tournaments, or the big move from tennessee to connecticut.

one place they would like to live:  ontario. it looks so calm.

one place they would like to visit:  los angeles.  she feels like she’d fit right in.  and their hockey mojo’s great right now.

celebrity crush: torey krug, bruins defenseman.  & matty healy.  what a dreamboat.

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: chapstick, spare stick tape, spearmint breathmints. pictures of her parents, folded up and hidden behind a few miscellaneous receipts.

place(s) your character can always be found:  on the ice.  in her bedroom, making music.  the local coffee shop open mic night.  the grocery store, struggling on her tippy-toes to reach the jumbo bag of munchie mix.  running in the park, or all around town.  playing pick-up games on the school green.

when does your character like to wake up?:  4:45am.  to fit in a morning workout before school.

what’s your character’s morning routine?:  scrunch up her face and pull the blankets tighter, in denial that her alarm’s actually going off. rolling out of bed to switch the buzzer off. stretches. change into running clothes. a few loops around the neighborhood, then outdoor HIIT intervals, weather permitting. shower. throw on a long-sleeve, leggings, and her boots. grab a pop tart for the car ride to school and listen to elody mae scold her about a well-rounded breakfast the whole drive there.

what does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?:  when elody mae cooks, darby eats well –– lots of pinterest recipes and plant-based meals.  left to her own devices, she reverts to ease: poptarts, protein bars, almonds. sunflower butter and jam sandwiches. she typically skips lunch at school to write, or free skate, or sneak into the weight room with whatever team’s rented it out that period.

how does your character spend their free days?:  jamming with her bandmates or on her own. playing gigs or open mics. going for long runs. hiking, in bee-free zones. goofing off with her pals, road tripping to random landmarks around connecticut.  going on art supply runs with her sister, sometimes helping her set up her booth at the local farmers’ market on saturday mornings.

what’s your character’s bedtime routine?:  night run, bodyweight workout. stretches. some songwriting or listening to in-progress tracks. texting her friends. tossing and turning. sometimes falling asleep successfully. sometimes popping a pill or two to make it happen.

what does your character wear to bed?: comfy shorts and a sports bra. she likes to load up on the quilts.

if your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: her parents.  her father.  if there’s a god.  if there’s really... anything.  lyrics.  her friends.  clark.  she’ll usually text him into the wee hours of the morning, if he’s up.

what is their idea of perfect happiness?:  getting her parents back. unattainable.

on what occasions do they lie?:  almost never. she really can’t do it successfully!

most marked characteristic: her eyes, her stature, her smile. her stupid canada birthmark on her foot.

what is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?:  find some way to compensate for whatever left her dad still wanting –– enough to leave.

how would they like to die?:  happy. she realizes the irony, given her definition of it.

do they snore? nope!

can they curl their tongue?: yes! and she can also do that clover thing.

can they whistle?:  most of the time. it’s kind of a gamble.

** do they believe in the supernatural?:  does she believe in anything? she’ll get back to you on that.  but uh...  she tried to reason with satan to rescue her parents from wherever they wound up after their deaths .... and suspects something might have gone wrong. did she cause this whole trip situation? was this her?  does she believe in all that religious stuff still anyway? uhhhhhhh....... she’ll also get back to you on that, too.

has anyone ever broken their heart?:  she’s been heartbroken, non-romantically. romantically? not yet.

have they ever broken anyone’s heart?:  yes. and probably without knowing it.

are they squeamish?:  not at all.  except around bees, or allergens.

have they ever seen anyone die? what happened?:  she’s seen people  d e a d .  but never in the act of.

are they a lightweight?:  y e s !!  it’s hilarious.  you wanna know a secret?  do ya??  you sure??  are you positive?  okay, okay.  she’ll take a breath, tryin’ not to giggle too much in between words.  “ one time, in ninth grade, mr. hot sexy math man –– mr. keebler, yeah –– asked me out to dinner. would ya believe that ? ”   she’ll dissolve into a fit of melodic laughter and knock back the rest of her second drink.   yeah.  it be like that.