#like she's supposed to be this wild reckless hard to control force but it keeps working out in her favor like 99% of the time

[manyothermusingsofmine]

The djinni at the circus: Wait why do I have nothing in my pockets anymore My rogue who just returned from the different plan of existence she was sent to and who also robbed the rest of his stuff there:

[bookstantrash]

A/N: This is an idea that has been living inside my mind for a really long time and I finally gathered courage to write it. But I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so every time I read and edited it I always found more and more faults in what I had written, so I said “To hell with this, I’m gonna post it before I delete the whole thing”

This ended up being way longer than what I had imagined and I have no idea how I feel about it. So buckle up folks, because this is going to be a ride.

In which she makes a friend

After almost three months living in Illyria, Nesta could not recall a single conversation that had lasted for more than three minutes or that had been longer than two sentences. Not that she cared much in holding meaningless conversations about the weather and whatnot with the few Illyrians bold enough to talk to her. Because few were those that tried to talk to her, those that were not scared of her, whose voices did not whisper Other or Witch whenever she bothered to leave the house she now lived in.

So when Nesta sat on the lonely stone bench in front the house – the weather had given a break and gone from “insufferable bone cold” to “tolerable chilly” – to try and calm the raging fire in her veins, a sign that her power was trying to break free, a sign that she was close to breaking and destroying everything around her, she was very much surprised to find an Illyrian child walking towards her.

It was not unusual to have a few Illyrians knocking on the door sometimes, given that she now lived with him due to her sister’s order long ago in Velaris. But since her babysitter had gone to Cauldron knows where, to do Cauldron knows what a week ago, no one had come knocking on the door asking for that overgrown bat. Adding the fact that his house was a little secluded from the rest, Nesta could not imagine why that child was coming over.

“Good...good evening” the Illyrian greeted, stopping in front of her.

“He’s not here” Nesta said, eyeing the child in front of her. The boy – Nesta supposed it was a boy, not older than thirteen, with its short cut curly brown hair, bandaged hands, muddied clothes and scar free wings being the only clue she had – shifted nervously on his feet.

“I...I’m not looking for the General” the boy said “I heard there was a Witch living here. I take you are her”

For the second time of that day Nesta found herself surprised. The boy in front of her had called her a Witch in her face, something most did not.

“I wanted to ask for a spell” the boy’s voice had lost a bit of it’s previous nervousness, and he had squared his shoulders, wings slightly flaring “I don’t have much, but I’m ready to give anything in return”

‘You can’t possible have anything to give me’ Nesta thought, glancing at his ripped and dirty clothes.

“I’m no Witch” Nesta said, getting up and turning her back at the kid, making for the house’s door “Go back to your parents”

~•~

The next day, when Nesta was coming back from a walk in the woods – there was something about the ancient trees and the wilderness that helped her control her inner turmoil — she was baffled to see yesterday’s boy waiting for her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” the boy blurted out before she could send him away “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m Kaelin”

Nesta’s only answer was a blink.

“I...I only said you were a Witch because that’s what the others said you were” Kaelin’s ears turned pink, no doubt embarrassed to admit listening to gossip.

“I don’t blame you” she said, and Kaelin’s eyes lit in surprise.

No. Nesta did not blame the boy for thinking her a Witch. Because long ago, before the war, before the empt void inside her was as big as the ocean, before she heard her father’s neck crack, she had declared to that annoying camp lord Devlon that she indeed was a Witch. But now, even though her powers were as loud as a beast’s roar in her ears, she did not want to touch them. Could not touch them.

And nothing, not even the hopeful look in Kaelin’s light brown eyes, would make her touch the wild beast that lived within her. She would not give the boy false hope. She would not fail another child. Not again. Not ever.

“If you have problems maybe you’d better tell your parents about it, instead of reaching for witchcraft”

After all, even thirteen year old Illyrians must have foolish mistakes that they would rather not tell their parents about.

“I don’t have parents. At least not anymore” Kaelin’s hard and sorrowful voice was enough to make Nesta resist prying further into his problem.

“I see” was the only thing she said, and she once again turned her back at him, entering that lonely and sad cabin, even though she was feeling rather inclined to talk, a feeling she had not felt for the longest time.

~•~

Kaelin appeared on Nesta’s door three days later, with a black eye, bruised cheek and a split lip that didn’t stop him from smiling and giving her something wrapped in brown paper.

“I thought about it and I realised that my apology was lacking” he started talking non stop, not giving Nesta a chance to say anything except gape at him and the gift on her hands “Father always said to treat everyone nicely, unless they were rude to you. He said it was what mother believed in”

Nesta could only nod and unwrap the paper to discover a pair of gloves.

“Did you steal them?” She asked, connecting the dots between the gloves she held — surely way out of the kid’s status of affordable — and his beaten face.

“No!” Kaelin replied, a bitterness in his voice “I know I’m just a lowly orphan but I’d never take something from another one in such an unhonoured way”

Nesta just grossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

“One of the boys from the high families arrived at training with new boots” he gave a sly smile “I fought him for them”

“You did what?” Nesta’s voice rose and she was holding herself back from shaking the boy until he was back into his right mind.

“Fighting between Illyrians is not prohibited. But it’s best if you don’t get caught” Kaelin replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Nesta felt her temper rising.

“You. Come with me” she grabbed Kaelin’s arm and took him inside before he could protest.

She made him sit on sofa in the living room while she went searching for the medic supplies she was sure Cassian had. Once she found it, she went back to Kaelin and started treating his cuts, mumbling the entire time about how stupid and reckless boys were.

“This is nice” he said, wincing slight when Nesta touched his bruised cheek.

“What is nice?”

“Having someone take care of you” he answered “I... I didn’t know my mom. She died shortly after I was born. Father said she was quite fragile”

Nesta trying to not let show how his words affected her. She remembered another woman, dying in a lonely bed just a few years after her youngest child had been born.

“He died in the last war. Against Hybern” he practically spat the late king’s name, hate filling every syllable.

Nesta finished treating him and started organising the materials, to keep herself busy and have an excuse to buy time to know what to answer him. She had never been good at consoling others. And she didn’t know why, but she was afraid her bluntness would end up hurting Kaelin.

“He was a hero” he said firmly, his eyes shining with defiance “He may have been just a mere foot soldier but he was at the front line, keeping Hybern’s forces back”

“I’m sure he was” Nesta replied, trying not to think about who may have said otherwise to him, hurting a child who had nothing “But would he like to see his son picking meaningless fights?”

“It was to get you a gift” Kaelin looked down and poked at the sofa “I’m sure he’d have understood. Besides, I have to fight and stand out if I want to have a shot at the Rite”

“You mean the Blood Rite? I thought everyone participated” Nesta had gathered little information about the Illyrians for the time she had been living in Illyria. There were no libraries, no bookstores, and the books Cassian had about the Illyrian culture and history were scarce and outdated.

“The very one. You are not obligated to become a warrior, but that’s the path most of male Illyrians take. Not that we have many options to begin with” Kaelin’s voice had became serious “Most of the males from the richer families are bound to participate, but the rest.... we end up being mere foot soldiers. Expendable. So no point in making us take part in it.”

At his words, Nesta could not help but think about Cassian. He too was an orphan but had risen to be Rhysand’s Commander and had seven siphons. From what she had heard and seen at the war, that was rather unusual.

“It’s worse for females” Kaelin added quietly.

She knew that. Saw how females were treated on the rare times she got out of the cabin. A scarce number trained. And she did not know a lot about training, but was sure it was not near enough to make them part of the Illyrian army. Or even defend themselves were the worst to happen.

Nesta opened her mouth to say Cauldron knows what — she had to say something, she could not let the boy leave with such dark thoughts — when a loud noise interrupted her.

It was a sound Nesta knew quite well from her time as a human living in a shabby cottage.

A sound she had become reacquainted with after being Made. After that day at the battle field.

The sound of hungriness. The sound of someone who was starving, and had been so for quite a while.

And it was coming from Kaelin.

The Illyrian boy beside her blushed a deep scarlet, trying — and failing — to come up with an excuse. But Nesta knew better. She knew the signs of starvation. Saw them in herself. Had seen it in her younger sisters, when they were not older than Kaelin.

Thin wrists. Sunken eyes. Cheekbones way too sharp. Up close Nesta could properly examine Kaelin and notice that the boy was all bones and little muscle, his skinny built not a consequence of slow metabolism to gain weight, but rather the fact that he did not have enough sustenance to make it possible.

“I have way too much food stocked here. I was supposed to be living with an adult warrior that can eat for five people “ Nesta began, cutting Kaelin’s blabbering “It would be a crime to let it all get wasted”

Leaving him no window to reply, she took hold of his arm, hauling him towards the kitchen and making him to sit down while she gathered whatever food she came across. And she had enough fire in her eyes — she may or may not have lost a little bit of control of her powers due to her racing emotions — that Kaelin did not dare say a word, but just sit quietly and eat what was put in front of him.

~•~

Nesta’s routine had suffered a slight change after that evening. For the past month and a half, Kaelin had been having a meal with her after his training. Every day.

She had made sure to make it clear that she was expecting a visit from him after his activities were over.

He did not dare argue with her.

Today, however, was an unusual day.

Kaelin was late.

Almost two hours late.

Nesta had come to know Illyrian boy better, and one thing she learned about him was that he detested to be late. For him, his promises and commitment were everything, reminding her of another Illyrian she knew – which had not come back in two months. Not that she missed or was worried about him.

She tried and failed to convince herself that Kaelin may have been held back by training. But she did not know why she felt a strange feeling. Her powers were restless, more so than usual.

The air and the trees around her seemed different.

She felt it deeply in her bones.

As if the Cauldron itself — hidden far far away in a island that did not exist in any map ever written — dreaded whatever future thread the Mother was knitting.

As if something had been woken.

As if the winds of change had gone from a light breeze to a tornado, ready to wreak havoc in Illyria.

Nesta could not hold herself back any longer. She needed to know what was happening. To know if that strange song that spoke of a power strong and ancient was connected to Kaelin tardiness.

So into the woods she went.

She walked and walked, until the song in her ears got louder and a new sound appeared, a sound she would not be able to hear were it not for her fae ears.

The sound of someone whimpering.

Quickening her steps, Nesta followed the cries of pain until the wall of trees around her gave way to a small clearing.

And there, lying curled up in a ball, was Kaelin.

“KAELIN!”

Nesta ran towards him, falling on her knees beside his body.

“What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” she smelled blood, and feared the Illyrian whose boots he had “won” had gone after him for payback.

Her mind was racing, her thoughts overlapping themselves. She recalled another winged body, laying on the ground. She recalled another child, crying in pain due to its empty stomach, who had not seen food for weeks.

She would not fail anyone ever again. That had been her promise to herself.

“Kaelin...” Nesta slowly touched his arm, trying to soothe him “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts”

Kaelin whimpered, slowly uncurling his body and tucking his wings. He clutched his abdomen, and Nesta dared to try and touch her power.

She would touch that dangerous beast if that meant she could help the young boy in front of her.

And so she tentatively reached inside herself for that source, trying to recall if any training she’d had with Amren may assist her in the current situation.

She scanned Kaelin’s body, and that’s when she noticed the small drops of blood beneath him. But her powers had not detected any wounds. No, he was not hurt.

However, she finally found the origin of the bleeding. And Nesta momentarily lost her breath.

Because she knew the reason why Kaelin was in pain.

“You are not a boy” she breathed.

Kaelin was a girl.

A girl who had had her first period.

A girl who was passing as a boy. Training like one.

And when Kaelin finally meet Nesta’s eyes, brown eyes shining with tears, she cursed the Mother for whatever future thread she had knitted.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth

[opheliasbrokenmind]

I’ve always had this idea of tommy and younger reader breaking up ( over something stupid ) and before they were together reader liked partying and causing more trouble then needed with her friends. So when they break up she starts hanging around with the wrong people again ( tommy banned her from seeing as they just caused trouble ) and he hears about her going around drunk/high so he finds her and takes her home where she’s safe and behaves. Just tommy madly in love and a wild younger girl 💛x

oh god i had sooo much fun writing this and i hope you enjoy reading love 💋 i love respectful tommy (i love him in any condition lmao) and i just want to thank all of my anons because you’re always too kind to me?? 😭 and you always have wonderful ideas, they inspire me to write. feel free to send a request anytime xx

‘You can’t work all the time and expect me to sit here all day and wait for your ass to come home, Thomas! Jesus, I’m way too young for that.’ You shouted and he angrily walked to you, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He knew he couldn’t scare you and sighed as you stood still, glaring at him. ‘I work my ass off because I want you to keep living like you do now, in luxury!’

‘Yet you never ask me how I want to live! You don’t make me feel like a partner anymore, all you do is dolling me up to show me off at those fucking big parties! By the way, they suck! I’m done with your shit this time.’

You turned your back and walked to the bedroom you shared but he was quick to follow you, stopping you on the hallway. ‘What the fuck you’re saying?’

‘I’m leaving.’ This time you sounded cold, yet you were calm and Tommy knew nothing he’d say could change your mind. ‘To where exactly, y/n? Your parents aren’t even in England now.’

‘You know, I do have friends, Tom. Even though you pushed them away, they are still my friends and they don’t get mad at me if I go out for supper by myself and have a drink or two.’ Then you didn’t say anything and continued to pack up your stuff, leaving the ones he bought you. The man you loved sat on your bed, the one you spent countless days hours making love to each other, crossed his arms and watched you with a furious expression on his face.

You didn’t expect him to say anything, Thomas Shelby was never the one to talk for his wants. He was used to getting what he wanted by force or violence and maybe that’s what made you so irritated.

When you were done, he stood up and looked at you, ‘You can’t leave, y/n. You are my girl.’ A soft laugh escaped your lips, if it was another time the sentence would melt your heart but in your situation, it caused nothing but rage. ‘I’m not your property, Tom. Didn’t anyone tell you? People don’t belong to people.’ With that, you left the house as he watched you going away from him.

After a long time, he felt desperate again. He was alone, the shovels threatening to come down one by one and you were nowhere to be seen. Tommy noticed how quickly he missed you and he couldn’t believe himself. When did he get so vulnerable? He also felt angry, angry at you for standing up to him and angry at himself for not preventing what just happened.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew he couldn’t keep a girl like you under his control like he was used to doing. Yet he chose to lock you in his unnecessarily big house and hoped you’d obey. Tommy knew a wild girl like you would never remain easy and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep a bird who tasted the freedom in a golden cage and expect it to be happy.

It wasn’t like that in the beginning, everything was different. He’d take you to a fancy place and you two would have fun together, finishing a drink after another and you’d giggle all the time as he did the same. Tommy felt young and reckless by your side, you always knew what to do to cheer him up and he’d forget his worries.

As your relationship started to grow serious, things started to change. You continued to have fun with your friends, which he thought were a group of bummers, when he got back to his job. It wasn’t like you forgot him, you just got bored and it was in your nature to hang around, acting wild. You and your friends were often found in a party or a pub, or both, getting drunk and causing trouble. Yes, you were unrestrained but that’s how you met in the end and that’s why he fell for you in the first place.

Tommy saw the gleam in your eyes, it mesmerized him and after getting one taste of what’s forbidden, he became addicted to it. You brought the young, careless side of him after years and he was glad for it. He didn’t even know how much he needed you until he got you inside his arms, enjoying your presence.

Nobody denied you were young for him or he was older for you, as a matter of fact, Polly and Ada made sure to remind him the truth every time. But they also saw how much you changed their Tommy, making him smile just with your existence and they felt grateful for that.

Unluckily, it wasn’t a fairy tale and you didn’t live happily ever after. It took you one year to end it, going back to witches’ castle without looking back. Still, he wasn’t mad at you and he didn’t blame you, he knew it was a possibility. Tommy knew he couldn’t keep you under his control forever and this was going to happen eventually but he didn’t know it’d hurt that much.

Nevertheless, he spent two weeks without hearing from you, he forced himself to stay calm and let you go, even though how much missed you, especially during nights. You weren’t there to comfort him when he went to bed, telling silly jokes at breakfast and waiting for him to laugh. You weren’t running in the house, causing trouble and even the maids seemed to miss you.

Then one evening, a group of Blinders brought the news. He was in London to meet with Alfie for a deal and apparently, you were in London, too. The boys said you were at a party with your friends and he thought about Alfie’s words on his ride to the party.

‘Rumour has it your young and sweet missus had left the nest, Tommy.’ The man said with a look and if he didn’t know Alfie, he’d say he looked almost sad. ‘Well, you can’t keep the wildness locked up, mate. But I ask myself, what would I do if I had a pretty little thing like that all to myself and lose it?’ Then Tommy remembered your words and this time, he knew what you meant. ‘I didn’t own her, Alfie. She’s capable of making decisions by herself.’ Now that he was at the door, he thought you weren’t making the wisest choices.

‘George, my champagne’s finished!’ You screamed to make yourself heard in the noise and your friend laughed, ‘Then go get another!’ He grinned widely and you mirrored the motion, dancing to the loud music. ‘Here you go, gorgeous.’ Jane handed you a full champagne flute and you sent a smile on her way, you started to sway together. She leaned into your ear a few minutes later, ‘I need a line of snow, want one?’ You shook your head but went to the ladies’ room with her, leaving the boys alone.

‘My my, William. Isn’t that man over there our y/n’s big bad wolf?’ Robert pointed to the man who was glaring at them, his icy eyes showing his intentions. ‘He’s too late, don’t you think?’ George replied and raised his glass to the man he hated, making a toast with a wide grin on his face.

‘I wouldn’t say that, y/n still loves him.’ George frowned with his friend’s words, ‘What’s that supposed to mean, Billy? She left him.’ The other guy shrugged, ‘Yeah but she loves him too much to let him go.’ Then they turned back to look at the man but the Shelby was nowhere to be seen.

‘You sure you don’t want? That’s some good stuff.’ Jane asked again but you smiled softly, ‘I’m done with drugs, Jane sweetheart.’ The girl rolled her eyes playfully, ‘That man changed you, huh?’ You stared at your reflection on the mirror, your smile didn’t reach your eyes. ‘Let’s say he helped me realise some things.’

The door opened and you didn’t bother to look who was it, you didn’t know most of the people at the parties. ‘George says he turned you into a good girl.’ You frowned with that but someone was faster than you, ‘I can assure you she’s still a bad girl, Jane. A very bad one.’ Tommy’s voice came behind you and your jaw dropped for a moment, your eyes meeting on the mirror. Jane froze but she left for her own good.

You sighed and grabbed the counter, ‘What are you doing here?’ You asked, studying the marble as you waited for him to answer. ‘I heard you’re here.’

‘You heard or you told everyone to inform you if they see me?’ A light chuckle rang in your ears and you found yourself smiling as well. Then he took a step closer and your back pressed to his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you. ‘It’s not hard to find you when there’s a party.’

‘Is that so?’ You spoke and he nodded, his lips getting closer to your ear. ‘I’ve missed you. Everyone misses you, come home.’ Tommy whispered and you closed your eyes, his voice was something you ached to hear. ‘I was selfish, I’m sorry, Tom. It’s just... I wanted to have fun with you and you were busy all the time.’

‘I know, it was foolish of me to think I can keep you all to myself.’ He admitted as he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, his head moving further to rest on the crook of your neck. ‘I know you want to be free and I know I’m in no place to give you orders, y/n. You think you can forgive me?’

‘You think I can say no to you?’ You joked and he smiled to your skin, his warmth spreading to your body. ‘Now take me home, please.’ You whispered and he didn’t spend a second. He grabbed your hand and you smiled to yourself, it felt good to be held by him again.

The journey to the house was quick, you didn’t bother to grab your stuff and neither did he. ‘The maids missed you, too.’ He blurted out and you arched an eyebrow, ‘Did they? After all those things I’ve done?’

‘Looks like it’s hard to be mad at you but so easy to miss you.’ Tommy said without looking at you and you watched him, his beautiful hands resting on the wheel. ‘I’ll bring the paperwork home so you can be my side while I do it and I won’t tell you what to do or where to go.’

‘I won’t go if it will make you nervous, I know these parties can go insane. Plus you’ll have a day off, would that work for you?’ He smirked, ‘Fair enough.’

‘You think you can focus on paperwork by the way?’ You asked innocently and he nodded with a grin, ‘You will behave.’ You laughed and bit down your lip, ‘Will I, Mr Shelby?’

‘For sure, princess.’ His hand rested on your thigh and oh, he exactly knew how much you wanted to obey to him sometimes.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Dragon Egg (Part 1)

This is my (sort of late) entry for the @secrettunnelatla event.

Summary:  Azula’s metal music career put in jeopardy when a careless afterparty leaves her unexpectedly pregnant with Chan’s baby. Meanwhile, Zuko struggles to overcome his addiction as he works to get his own band off the ground.

Content Warnings: Language, Teen Pregnancy, Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, and Child Abuse.

It smells heavily of leather, disinfectant, and hand soap. Azula supposes that, that is a good thing. She tries not to twitch too much, but the discomfort is rather intense. More than intense, really. It is a mild, yet white hot pain. She tries to ignore the buzz of the needle and its attempts to remind her of its bite. 

“First time?” Seicho asks. 

Azula nods. 

“You’re telling me that you can get a pair of snake bites, a brow piercing, and stretch your earlobes, but this is too much?”

Azula resists another flinch. “Piercings are quicker. The needle goes in…” she winces, “and then it comes out and it’s over.”

Seicho withdraws the tattoo gun for a shrug, “there’s no art to piercings.”

“Tell that to Mai.” 

“She’s your bandmate, right?”

Azula shakes her head. “My brother’s girlfriend. She’s in his band.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I have my own band. We have a better sound and better lyrics.” She grips the edge edge of her chair. This time speaking ill of Zuko’s band isn’t a distraction enough. She isn’t sure why this is so hard for her. Chan and Ruon had gotten their ink without a hitch, and Ruon is a crybaby on a good day. 

“Do you need a break?” The artist asks, withdrawing her tattoo gun. The hideous red, plastic cup that she wears as a necklace charm, bobs with the motion. Azula grits her teeth and shakes her head. If Ruon could get it done in one go then she can manage as well. By the end of it she will have a blue and gold scaled dragon curling around her arm and outlined with blue flame and lightning. And if she can manage it, twin dragonflies will shimmer on both of her shoulder blades. 

The buzzing resumes and the pricking returns. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt so much as it does sting. And sometimes the stinging subsides for something more like a painful pressure. “Try to relax, it hurts more if you’re tense.” Seicho says. 

“This isn’t exactly relaxing.” Azula frowns. The woman has finally finished the outline of the dragon. “And this chair isn’t comfortable either.” She may as well add that she is thirsty and hungry for good measure. 

Seicho laughs, “I’ve had criers and fainters and a few boasting badasses, but I’ve never had a complainer.” 

Azula frowns. 

“If you want you can move to the bed.” She gestures to what looks like a dentist’s chair. “It has more padding and it’ll give your back a rest.”

“Alright.” While she is up she steals a drink from her water bottle. She tries to make herself as comfortable as possible on the bed. She hears the buzz of another tattoo gun on the other side of the parlor before Seicho’s comes to join it. Azula braces herself for more stinging. 

“So what kind of music do you play?”

“Disco pop.” She answers flatly. Sehicho has to draw back and wait for her laughter to pass. “We play metalcore. But Chan and Ruon want to experiment with…” it takes all of her soul not to shudder, “surfer rock.” Granted she can respect it as a genre, it isn’t terrible and it would suit the two of them well. But she can’t see herself providing vocals for surf rock and she doesn’t quite fit the aesthetic. At least she has Zirin to back her up on that, and so the band is perfectly divided like that. 

“That could be interesting.” Seicho comments. 

“Does anything about me indicate that surf rock is a good fit for my talents?”

.oOo.

Seicho looks her client up and down. Azula is an attractive girl, that’s for sure, it is more than a pleasure sitting in her chair--the girl has a reputation for being very particular and picky. 

She  studies her for a moment longer; small and slender  with the slightest muscle definition. Her eyes glitter with thick black eyeliner, shot with a line of neon blue. It’s elegantly dramatic against a soft helping of black eyeshadow. Her piercings glint silver in the light when she turns to watch Seicho work. She notices a septum ring as well. Her hair is styled with a neat undercut, someone has artfully worked fiery patterns into the shaved part. 

“That’s fair.” Seicho comments at last. She isn’t sure that she should make any other comments on the girl’s appearance, lest she makes a blabbering fool of herself. She supposes that she has a weak spot for piercings and sideshaves. “I don’t think that I caught your band’s name.” 

“Blue Talon.” She gestures to the outline of her dragon. She had specifically instructed Seicho to put emphasis on it’s inky talon. 

“I’ll have to listen to some of your music.”

Azula nods. “Give yourself a taste of culture.” 

She fixes her gaze on the screen of her phone. Seicho catches the name ‘Chan’ at the top of the screen and the words, ‘still up for tonight?’ Seicho brings  her focus back to the tattoo and resumes her work. 

It is an underappreciated art, she thinks. A misunderstood one. She doesn’t think that people understand just how brave one needs to be to decorate a person’s body.  Doesn’t think that they see the value in what she does. 

Her art has a weight to it, one that her canvases will carry with them forever. Her art comes with a story and her parchment is flesh. Some tales are as simple as a reminder of one impulse decision (perhaps good, perhaps bad) at the end of a wild night, the story of reckless youth and a fun time. While other stories are so deeply personal that even she doesn’t know the meaning behind the picture she has brought to life on the flesh. 

The elegance of dragging needles over skin in careful curves and sturdy lines is an art in itself. It takes a steady and loving hand to guide the needle in exactly the right ways. Calligraphy is renowned and loved, it is classy. Seicho doesn’t think that her job is much different than than. 

They say that it is a rough and reckless job. They can’t seem to grasp what tedious work it is. The special sort of carefulness that goes into laying ink onto skin. She supposes that they have taken and ran with stories of shady, cheap shops with unsterilized needles and infected basement tattoos done by best friends.  

She draws back for a moment to dab some excess ink from Azula’s skin.  “How are you feeling?” She checks in. Her client gives her a simple thumbs up. With it, Seicho continues. The tattoo begins to come to life now, with an enticing shade of deep blue. She takes care to keep it from marring the golden outline of the scales. 

As she carefully fills the scales with blue, she finds herself pondering how lovely it would be to have her artwork on the art of someone who has made it big. She hopes that Blue Talon will go far.

Occupied by her phone, Azula seems to be content for the time being. It would seem that the girl isn’t particularly interested in anymore conversation and she doesn’t try to force her into one. They don’t speak again until the final dragonfly has been inked on to the girl’s shoulder. Seicho flicks the tattoo gun off and sets it aside. “I can take a few pictures of the dragonflies for you so you can see them.” 

Azula nods, paying only half attention as she inspects the dragon that now curls around her bicep. “It’s good work.” She says at last. 

“Thank you.” Seicho smiles. She holds up her phone and the girl glances over it. “Hey!” She shouts as she snatches the phone from her hand. She watches Azula pull up her contacts list and add herself to it. 

“We will be in touch.” She presses the phone back into Seicho’s palm. 

She never would have thought that it would be so easy to get a rockstar’s phone number. Albeit, this particular rockstar seems to lack either impulse control or social graces. She is inclined to go with the latter.

“Feel free to give me a call if you think that the ink might be infected. Just follow the instructions,” she gestures to the aftercare package, “and that shouldn’t be an issue.” 

“Don’t wait by the phone.” Azula inspects her nails. “I have impeccable hygiene.” 

Seicho damn near laughs. She has only exchanged a few words with the girl and she has already left quite an impression. Aesthetic aside and phone incident, she is strangely well-mannered, prim and proper. She isn’t exactly the sort Seicho is used to having in her chair. 

She gives  her hair a flick, revealing a golden ring bearing the Kasai family emblem. Were it not for that, Seicho would have never guessed that she was the daughter of Fire Lord Ozai. Thee Fire Lord Ozai, vocalist and guitarist of Fire’s Reign. 

She doesn’t get the chance to request an autograph or a chance to meet her idol. She hears the shop bell rattle as the rock legend’s daughter shuts the door behind her and makes her way back to her car.  

Seicho hopes that her hard work will serve the girl well. 

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Bat Shit Crazy (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, sub/dom dynamic, large age gap, smut, choking kink, violence/fighting, injuries/blood, hypersexual reader, mentions of death?��

Summary: Bucky is back from a mission he was sent on without you. He works hard to get you back on your routine. 

Notes: This fic is dark, and it only gets darker. This is more Winter Soldier Bucky in terms of behavioral traits and dynamics with other characters. This is not a soft lovey dovey style fic, and if that bothers you DO NOT READ. 

Masterlist

Part One:

The night is young, the summer air is humid, you've swapped out your jeans for a pair of fray end shorts, tennis shoes scuffing against the pavement as you shuffle your feet, waiting.

You've been craving a bit of freedom, some wind in your hair, something intoxicating in your system, and that led you right to Tony Stark. You batted your eyelashes the best you could, pretty please, can we borrow your car for the night? Honestly, you don't have a plan. All you know is that you feel suffocated sitting around on base. You feel old, tired, missing and craving the feeling of adrenaline in your veins.  

So as soon as the jet returns to HQ, you're grabbing Bucky by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out to the sight of a bright orange Audi that makes him groan in disbelief. A knowing look graces his features, and he almost feels bad for the guy. Because if there's anything you're good at, it's getting your way, and Bucky had basically signed himself up for it. But Stark? He had no idea what you were truly capable of.

"I'm not going to ask how you managed to get it," He says, hand catching your waist and pulling you to stop before you can get inside, "But I am going to ask, where are we going?"

He's still in his tactical gear, a gun on his hip, dirt and blood smeared across his skin, he smells like gun powder and sweat, and you can't resist the urge to just kiss him. So you do, hands in his hair, pulling him down into a searing kiss that pulls a strangled sound from the back of his throat. He hasn't seen you in days, and he's more exhausted than he's used to being. But he can tell you're restless, the chaos in your bones convincing you to basically seduce Stark and take his car to do who knows what in the cover of night. He's just glad that you decided to bring him along.

"For a ride." Is all you offer, letting him hike your leg up around his waist. "I missed you."

"I know." His voice sounds wrecked, laced with exhaustion and arousal, and you almost feel bad for keeping him up even longer, because who knows what he just came back from. But you're too excited to turn back now, dangling the keys in front of his face, his grin just as wicked as yours as he kisses you one last time.

"I want to go first, you can drive on the way back."

When you get in the drivers seat and press the button to start the engine, you get why people collect cars like this. The feeling of power, the sense of danger, it's intoxicating, and you start to feel a little breathless when you rev the engine.

Bucky can see it click in your head, he can see the exact moment that you decide that this might be taking it too far.  

There's a wicked glint in your eyes when you turn to look at him. "Oh," You laugh, "I've created a monster."

His eyebrows furrow, fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you away from the wheel, half bent over the console. "I would prefer it if you didn't get us both killed, so you take it easy, understand?" Because he knows. He knows you could say fuck it all just for the thrill of it.

You click your tongue, "You're no fun." You pout, watching as his eye twitches, a weakness, "But that's okay. I'm sure you'll figure out how to make it up to me."

He smiles at that, and you aren't sure if it's pride or love that has him grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in his eyes. You're a smart mouthed fool, and he knows that you probably got most of your attitude from him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You can start with fucking me on every surface of this car before we give it back tomorrow morning."

He hums, kissing you once, twice, unable to pull away because he likes the look in your eyes, he likes that you're this comfortable with him, young and wild and trusting him not to judge you. It's harmless fun, he understands, the tedious schedule you follow everyday is eating away at your youth. So he indulges you, letting you put the windows down and drive just a little more recklessly than he should.

The shriek of laughter that comes from your throat is worth the risk, his hand gripping your thigh, watching as you change your grip on the steering wheel. The wind blows your hair, flushes your cheeks, and its a reflex more than anything else when he fishes his phone out to take a picture of you.

This is what you both live for. Moments like this where nothing else matters. You have each other, you've found a perfect medium between work and play, and it works out better than you could have ever imagined.

Keeping up with you is like pulling teeth sometimes, because Bucky just doesn't care as much as you do. He figured that you would be better suited with someone who is equally as high maintenance as you, someone like Tony Stark. The expensive taste and busy schedule could only be understood by someone who lives that lifestyle.

But behind the perfume and lip gloss, beneath the eyelash extensions and layers of designer clothing, chaos awaits. It makes you reckless.

You're hot headed, quick to pull a trigger and abuse your power before the chance can be taken from you. Steve had tried to train you first, but all attempts made to domesticate you failed, the restlessness within you wired deep within your bones, and so you were passed on to Bucky. Because there's a part of Bucky that craves chaos just like you do, the only difference is that he's learned to control it rather than have it control him. You were pushed right into his arms, and it was only a matter of time before he left and impression on you.

The devilment you shared made him putty in your hands. He saw himself in you, a pretty head plagued with torturous thoughts, a pretty girl ruined by this job, and so he trained you accordingly. He told you that there was a trick to it, that he never learned to tame the darkness within him, he just learned to suppress and channel it at the right time, finding constructive outlets rather than being a fucking brat all the time. He could actually handle you, and love hit you hard. You've been inseparable ever since.

Steve was concerned with how quickly your relationship developed, Tony called you both crazy, and Natasha, she may or may not be a bad influence on you. You're a killer, he's a killer, it's like you were made for each other.

But that part of you never went away, and it's times like these that it starts to become a test of his patience.

Eventually, you find yourself at a park, and Bucky is beyond confused when you park the car and actually turn it off. You meant it when you said you just wanted to go for a drive. It's too late to find anything open, he's too tired to go too far, and you would rather sit and star gaze with him rather than do anything to piss him off.

But first, he fucks you. Hard. On every surface, just like you asked. He pulls you over the console, flips your shirt up and presses your tits against the dash, fucking up into you with a strength that you realize you've missed these past three days. Then he gets out, an arm secured around your waist to hold you up as he rounds the car and places you on the hood, palms flat against the polished paint as he continues to fuck you.

It's obscene, your body caving under his weight, cheek pressed flat against the cool metal when he grips the back of your neck, arching you against him further. God, he missed you. You take him so well, always such a good girl for him, and he tells you that, lips pressed against your ear as he grinds his cock into you, and the only response you can give is a moan.

Then he's in the front seat, hands tight on your hips as you ride him, and you could have sworn the car seemed bigger until you found yourself in this position, back arched against the wheel so that you don't hit your head.

He forces you to look him in the eyes, grabbing your throat and tilting your head up, leaving you to find your own rhythm. The muscles in his arm strain at the restraint, because you slow down to a teasing pace, the look in his eyes becoming dangerous as you test his patience, and it doesn't take long for him to grab you up and turn you around, pushing the seat back as far as it goes and pounding you against the soft leather. He's relentless, hips slapping against your ass at a speed that your brain can't keep up with, and you're coming before your body has a chance to warn you.

He comes inside of you soon after, locking your body to his as if you'll disappear, and it makes you wonder what happened while he was gone.

You pull a bottle of liquor from the glove box, he pulls your shorts back up, and together you deposit your tired bodies on the swing set a few feet away. He tells you everything, sharing swigs of whiskey, eyes dancing between you and the night sky above you.

It was supposed to be recon, supposed to be a simple in and out. But Steve fucked up, stepped on a trip wire and gave them away. They had to fight their way out, didn't even get any intel besides the fact that whoever the fuck it was knew that they were coming. Or at least, they were expecting someone to come eventually.

It makes you wish you were there, because Steve wouldn't have been able to fuck up, it's you who goes out on those types of missions with Bucky. You two just work better together, something that maybe now Steve Rogers might finally come to understand. But you were told, more like ordered to sit this one out, and neither of you say it, but you both register at the same time that it was a mistake.

You drink more than you should, the bottle half empty by the time he decides to cut you off. But you don't let it ruin your fun, kicking your legs as hard as you can, the swing lifting higher than the bars that hold it, and for a moment it feels like you're flying before gravity takes over and yanks you back down. But Bucky doesn't let you jostle yourself around too much, arm reaching out to grab the chain of your swing, slowing your speed.

"We shouldn't stay out long." He says. "We need to get up early." You raise an eyebrow in question, he does the same. "Don't act brand new. You do this every time I leave. You fall off your routine and we have to work twice as hard for a couple days to get you back on it."

It makes you groan, makes him grab you by the arm and pull you to sit on his lap, kissing your cheek when you lean your head back against his shoulder.

You don't say anything, because there isn't anything else to say. He's back, he's here with you again and you couldn't ask for anything more than that.

But he seems to have too much on his mind, taking swig after swig until the bottle is empty and there's nothing left to distract him. "Don't do this again." He says. "I'll buy you a car if that's what you want, but don't you ever run to another man before coming to me." You aren't sure if this is an insecurity, or if he's simply being possessive, but either way you take too long to respond, his hands clamping down on your thighs in a grip that has you arching up off his lap to relieve the pressure. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, fuck."

"Good." He kisses the corner of your mouth this time, smoothing his palms against your skin to soothe the ache he's caused. "Where did you get these shorts from?"

"College."

Your response raises a question in his head, how can you still fit them? But he realizes immediately that college was only a year ago for you, a harsh reminder of your age compared to his, and he simply hums in reply.

The air grows too cold for you to handle, shivering in his arms despite the warmth running through your veins, and he makes the call to wrap it up. But not before he kisses you first, turning you around on his lap and tugging you against his lips by a harsh grip in your hair. You don't get to have many moments like these, so you cherish it, kissing him as long as he needs you to, enjoying the chill that snakes up your spine when his hands round your ass and deposit under your thighs, hoisting you up.

He settles you in the passenger seat, eager for his turn at driving the car, and you could care less given your sudden exhaustion. You admire the way he looks, jaw clenched, muscles taught, arm flexing as he palms the steering wheel, a hand on your head rest as he glances back to reverse the car. His hair is loose for a change, framing his face and whipping back and forth each time he turns his head.

He could use a trim, but you know he'll never let you.

He doesn't lose his mind driving like you did, remaining at a reasonable speed, turning on the radio to keep his mind busy since you aren't doing much entertaining. He doesn't blame you, he's tired too, and you had been waiting up to greet him when he got back.

You start to doze off, the blur of lights and buildings putting your mind at ease. It's not until Bucky's hands are on you again that you realize you fell asleep, which is a bummer, because you won't have this car again come noon.

"I want you to get me pregnant in this car."

He snorts, ignoring your antics entirely, reaching over to unfasten your seatbelt.

He tries to carry you, but you don't let him, settling for holding his hand instead. The compound is quiet except for the sound of the tv on low in the common room, Clint passed out on the couch, the movie he had been watching probably long gone off by now.

It makes you smile, stopping to place a blanket on him. He doesn't move a muscle, and Bucky grows impatient waiting for you, so you carry on. In the privacy in your room, you step your way out of your shoes and kick them into the corner by the door, then you help him out of his gear.

You find a stab wound on his stomach, it's long stopped bleeding by now, not at all infected, and it's already starting to heal. He says nothing, your warm fingers brushing his skin and something domestic washes over you both. It's something soft and unspoken, something the lines of I'm glad your safe.

The tile on the floor is cold beneath your feet, you lead him into the bathroom and run a bath for him, despite his protests of you being too tired. You watch as the water turns milky with dirt and blood, fingertips against his scalp as you clean his hair. It's a side of you that he doesn't see too often, a softer side that you bury under attitude and attention seeking mischief, and at this point he doesn't know which version of you he appreciates more.

You lather a sponge with body wash, a cedar scent you learned to love on him, and you wash him gently, carefully, mindful of his bruising. His wet hands are on your face, pulling you in for an occasional kiss, and it seems that he just can't keep his hands off of you.

He fucks you again, but it's different this time, softer, slower, his eyes locked on yours, fingers gentle just like you were for him, and you feel it in your heart when he tells you he loves you. He fucks you to sleep and tucks you into bed, limbs tangled with yours to keep you close.

He'll never bring it up, but he wasn't sure if he would make it back to you this time. He sleeps better than he had in days knowing that you're close.

It makes getting you up in the next morning is hard. You're a heavy sleeper, something Bucky was always thankful for on nights where he struggled to settle beside you. But when it's time to wake you up, he curses your ability to still sleep soundly like a baby after all the things you've seen, he envies it. He wants to let you sleep in, he wants to stay in bed with you, holding you, because who knows if he'll ever be able to do it again.

But he has to keep things normal. He has to keep you on your routine, otherwise you'll give in to your madness.

You think you're dreaming it, his hands on your side, his lips on the side of your face. You just can't bring yourself to open your eyes, exhaustion keeping it's hold on you. But Bucky is determined, a bit rough as he tugs you to lay on your back, your eyes flying open at being jostled, and he doesn't look apologetic as he smiles down at you.

"Hey, peach." He kisses you quickly, leaving nothing to soothe you back to sleep. "Time to get up."

His voice is hoarse, you realize, he's tired, too tired for your liking, and you wonder how long he's been up.

"A few more minutes?" You pout, curling your body around his, and you can tell he's on the verge of saying yes. "Please?"

But his will is far too strong. "You need to get up." He says, "Now."

And just like that, you're pissed, a sour attitude shifting your expression entirely, and he could care less, standing up to give you room to move. You have a dull headache, a hangover no doubt, but you ignore it as you dig through your dresser for workout clothes to change into.

He shakes his head at you, sensing your attitude, but he doesn't say a word as you stomp your way over to the door, pulling it open hard enough to bang against the wall. It's okay, he knows what you need, and he's been itching to give it to you.

When it comes to training, Bucky tends to be harsher on you, because he knows you can take it. It's the textbook definition of tough love, pushing you beyond your limits to make you better. It's the kind of training that leaves you sore and exhausted and covered in bruises, busted lips, black eyes, you aren't new to any of it. In fact, you're used to the feeling, and that's something most people would find scary. But you need it to stay sane, a distraction from everything else. You like when he pushes you beyond your limits.

You warm up with a jog around the compound grounds, the sun hasn't come up yet, the air crisp and cool and burning your lungs with each inhale you take. He reminds you to breathe slowly, in your nose and out your mouth in pace with each foot fall. He quickly realizes that your endurance has fallen low, his hand on your back to push you to run faster.

He doesn't take it easy on you, not even when you collapse into the ground, your body forcing you to take a break from running.

"Get up."

Your lungs burn, your face is hot, your legs are jelly, you shake your head.

"Look at you, you can't even speak and you have to nerve to slack off." He glares down at you, hands on his hips. "Get the fuck up before I drag you across the concrete."

His threat is very real, so you struggle to rise back to your feet. He continues on, super soldier stamina has him not even breaking a sweat, and you curse the cheating serum coursing through his veins.

"You're cheating, you have an advantage." You pant, fingers barely catching his arm to try and keep up. "I can't go as fast as you for that long."

He slows just a little, your hand wrapping around his bicep. "Which is why I push you. Your muscles won't ever grow past the strain if you don't experience it." He says. "Shape up, we're almost done."

He allows you a five minute break, which you spend chugging as much water as he'll let you have, laying on the floor of the gym to try and catch your break and give your muscles a break.

He starts you on the treadmill, pushing up the incline every ten minutes, and you can feel the strain it's putting you under. You haven't done this in days, and the alcohol that remains in your system doesn't help. You're just thankful that no one else is in the gym to witness your struggle.

Next is ab workouts, he joins you for this one, side by side on the mat as he walks you through each exercise. He flies through them with ease, hardly breaking a sweat. But you on the other hand feel winded, muscles aching as you use them beyond what you have been. He watches, carefully, a knowing look on his face when you start to lose your speed, but he doesn't let you stop.

This is what you need. An outlet, something to exhaust your energy and take the edge off. For the most part it helps. But there's only so much he can do to keep you occupied, so when he has you here in the gym, he makes it count.

He has you on weights, which turns your body numb, and you aren't sure what kind of damage it's doing, but you know that you'll be sore for the next couple of days.

He lets you take a break after an hour, you drink as much water as you can, eager to be away from his scrutinizing gaze, and you find Natasha returning from a morning run with Steve. They look like they haven't done anything a all, but the smell of outside and sweat tells you otherwise.

Natasha has the nerve to smile at you, recognizing the winded look on your face, and she settles next to you in the kitchen, hand on her hip as she drinks from a water bottle.

"I tried to warn you," She says, "He's kicking your ass, isn't he?"

She did try, you'll give her the credit, knocking on your door every day he was gone to at least get you to come out for a jog. But you refused, anticipating this intensity, and while you'll never admit that to her, she assumes you enjoy the torture.

"It's embarrassing." You say. "Even after all this time, he can wipe the floor with me if he wanted to."

She laughs at that, a twinkle in her eye that hints at the history she shares with him. "Yeah. You and me both." Her smile is far from innocent. "But I'm sure you give him a run for his money."

Your grin is wicked, "You can bet your perky little ass I do."

Your relationship with Natasha is complicated. Sometimes she's the older sister you always wished you had. Other times she's the extravagant aunt who teaches you the life lessons your mother was too modest to. Then sometimes, it's hard to tell, she's just an attractive woman admiring another attractive woman, someone with experience gravitating to someone who doesn't, because it's in her nature to enjoy the power play. If you had to guess, Natasha would bend you over the counter if she had the opportunity, just like anyone else living here in the compound. But she respects your privacy, respects the strange relationship you have with a man who is just as deadly as she is, and settles for the mischief you create together instead.

It's fun to feed into it, you always had a knack for sticking your fingers into flames, and sometimes you hold it over Bucky's head. Like last night, you didn't tell him what you did to convince Tony to let you borrow his car, but it's implied in your nature. You tend to be a bit hyper sexual, another trait that sometimes proves to be a pain in the ass. But Bucky has something to handle that too, and sometimes, at times like this, he lets you off your tight leash.

"Who's ass is perky?" He had been watching, of course he had, and the look on Natasha's face tells you that she knew it too.

"Depends on who you ask." You quip, flashing him an innocent smile. "Yours is, mine is, and hers," You spare a glance at Natasha, "Well, you would know, wouldn't you?"

He rolls his eyes, because you already know the answer to what you're implying. Nothing ever happened between him an Natasha. If anything were to happen, it would have been long ago, before they had both reformed themselves into the people they are now. He told you that, confessed his entire life to you, so he knows this is just your way of trying to get him worked up.

"Don't drag me into this." Natasha waves a finger between you both. "Whatever this is, I want no part." Her eyes settle on you. "I also suggest you cool it, because I'm joining you, and I don't want to be forced around awkward sexual tension."

You look at Bucky, raising an eyebrow. He only shrugs. "Steve too." He says. "I figured you needed a change in pace, you're too used to me now, you could use a different perspective."

Your break is obviously over, Natasha follows you as you walk out of the kitchen. "Yeah," She says. "Perspective."

The mood changes drastically, all playfulness gone from her when you step on the sparing mat together. To put it simply, she kicks your ass. You put up a good fight though, you actually managed to make her bleed, but in the end, she's too on top of her training schedule for you to find a weakness. That's the point Bucky was trying to make to you. You know him and his tactics, you know how hard he hits, you know where he'll strike, all you have to do is avoid it and expect it. But with an opponent you've never faced before, you're far too weak at the moment to properly defend yourself.

The next time you hit the mat is your last, nose colliding with the floor, blood gushing, a grunt coming from you that actually manages to distract your boyfriend who stands feet away, sparing with Steve.

You pinch your nose like you've been taught, instantly feeling that it isn't broken, and Natasha has helped you up by the time Bucky makes his way over.

He's actually sweating, panting hard as he takes your chin in his hand, examining your face. "You'll be fine." He says, glancing at Natasha. He nods to her, and you aren't sure what it is, approval, dismissal? "Hit the showers." He says to you, "You're done for now."

For now, there will be more later after lunch you're sure. You leave with Natasha, who reminds you to keep your head tilted, her arm linked with yours as she walks with you to the infirmary. The nurse on duty clogs your nose with gauze, telling you what you already know. It's not broken, but it will be bruised, and after the bleeding stops you need to rinse your nose clear of the blood. Until then, breathe out your mouth, and be cautious of blood that may trickle to the back of your throat.

"Want to step out with me?" Natasha meets you back in the kitchen after you both shower, her hair dark and dripping, and for a moment you think she's kidding.

Your body is starting to bruise, knuckles scraped and angry, nose bloody. But she simply stares at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Okay."

You take her Camero, she lets you drive, and it turns out it's just a grocery run. She wants to cook lunch, macaroni salad, and you both do a bit of personal shopping while you're out. After getting the ingredients, you both occupy the kitchen to make it. It doesn't take too long, but the serving size is large considering how many people will want to eat it.

Tony comes to find you in search of food, and he asks you about his car, a strange smell that he can't quite place. Liquor, sex, sweat? It could be anything, but you decide to play dumb instead, biting your tongue as you smile at him and suggest he go get it detailed.

While the macaroni chills in the fridge, Bucky comes to find you carrying fresh gauze and an alcohol wipe. He gives you his protein shake, chocolate flavored, and you sip from it eagerly. His hands are gentle as he pulls the blood soaked gauze from your nose and you take a deep breath, feeling the dried blood and soreness from the impact.

He applies pressure to the bridge of your nose, stopping when you wince, humming low in his throat as he leans down to kiss you. "It'll be a nasty bruise," He says, "But you deserve it, you fucking brat."

You imagine his opinion will change when the skin on your nose starts to discolor, but for now, he feels proud of himself. You let him have it.

He wipes your nose gently, hand on your throat to tilt your head back, he points the corners of the alcohol wipe and wipes the inside of your nose, eyebrows knit in concentration, and you take the opportunity to feel him up.

Your hands slide under his shirt, the skin is smooth where his stab wound was last night, and once again you're amazed by his abilities. "Did you have fun beating up someone other than me for once?"

His lip quirks up in a half smile, "Nah." He says. "It's not as satisfying."

You smile despite yourself, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What about you?" He asks. "Did you find anything interesting while your head was up Nat's ass?"

"Jealous?"

His grip on your throat shifts, "If I were, this would be a very different situation for you."

He knows you're his, there's nothing to argue, nothing to worry about, even if the entire compound wants to rearrange your guts. A pretty young thing like you, he doesn't blame them. But they wouldn't be able to handle you, you wouldn't enjoy it, and it would send you right back to him.

You both know it.

"You're so scary." You kiss him then, silencing whatever remark he had for you, eyes slipping closed as he tilts his head against yours, cautious of your nose. He tastes like chocolate, and sweat, slipping from your arms to take a shower.

When he returns, the salad has cooled enough to eat, and naturally, Clint already has a mouthful before anyone else can get their hands on it. He too has just returns from a workout, his sweats drenched, Bucky crinkles his nose, scowls at the amount of people occupying the kitchen and opts for lurking in the hall, watching as you portion out bowls for everyone, including him.

He's amazed at your cooking skills, the two of you tucked away out back with bowls of macaroni salad, enjoying the breeze in the shade. You beam at his praise, smiling over a mouthful of food, but it doesn't last long, his finger reaching out to poke your noise.

Don't look too proud of yourself, he says, this isn't approved in your diet plan.

Yeah well, screw him and the diet plan.

He makes you run after lunch, a water bottle in your hand because he isn't going to let you stop for breaks, the only water you can have is what you can hold.

It's cruel, the sun high in the sky and beating down on you with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe, let alone run. But you manage, a familiar exhaustion washing over you as you push your body for the third time today.

He makes you a protein shake, joins you for your second shower of the day, and then he drags you to bed.

"All your hard work means nothing if you don't give yourself a chance to recover." He whispers in your ear, lips pressed to your skin, his arm cold against your side when he spoons you. "I know you're tired, peach. You did good today, now rest."

It makes it all worth it, the torture of exercise, the agonizing exhaustion he puts you through. Getting to lay here like this, the comfort of his closeness, a vulnerability that only you have been allowed to see.

You turn, sealing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss, one that has no real effort behind it but has all the desperation in the world. It makes his grip tighten at your waist, his other hand slipping down to yank your panties to the side.

"Okay, you can sleep after this."

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Masterlist

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[padawanlost]

On forced anidala: imo the deleted scenes and the little she says in the movies explain her choices well. She was a young girl, a child, thrown into a world of politics and she loves it, buuut she never had a chance to be herself. She's a "strong powerful woman" yet all she wants is a peaceful life with a husband and children on Naboo. Ofc reckless youthful Anakin will be attractive to her. There's more to it but not enough space to type it here but I wish Padmé had more meta, she's fascinating.

Yes! But also women can be both. They can be accomplished professional AND have romantic aspirations. Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of fans struggle with the notion that Padmé can be super responsible and romantically reckless at the same time. they have a hard time understanding why such successful women would want romance, marriage and kids. I blame society but also Hollywood for perpetuating the idea that successful women are all cold and heartless ‘men-haters’.

I also think people forget this was Padmé’s first love and how intense that usually goes.

“A Senator after a Queen, and probably with many more offices ahead of her,” Sola said. She looked back at the playhouse and called for Ryoo and Pooja to ease up. “You speak as if it’s a bad thing,” Padmé remarked. Sola looked at her earnestly. “It’s a great thing,” she said. “If you’re doing it all for the right reasons. “And what is that supposed to mean?” Sola shrugged, as if she wasn’t quite sure. “I think you’ve convinced yourself that you’re indispensable to the Republic,” she said. “That they couldn’t get along at all without you.” “Sis!” “It’s true,” Sola insisted. “You give and give and give and give. Don’t you ever want to take, just a little?” Padmé’s smile showed that Sola’s words had caught her off guard. “Take what?” Sola looked back to Ryoo and Pooja. “Look at them. I see the sparkle in your eyes when you watch my children. I know how much you love them.” “Of course I do!” “Wouldn’t you like to have children of your own?” Sola asked. “A family of your own?” Padmé sat up straight, her eyes going wide. “I …” she started, and stopped, several times. “I’m working right now for something I deeply believe in. For something that’s important.”“And after this is settled, after the Military Creation Act is far behind you, you’ll find something else to deeply believe in, something else that’s really important. Something that concerns the Republic and the government more than it really concerns you.” “How can you say that?” “Because it’s true, and you know it’s true. When are you going to do something just for yourself?” “I am.” “You know what I mean.” Padmé gave a little laugh and a shake of her head, and turned back to Ryoo and Pooja. “Is everyone to be defined by their children?” she asked. “Of course not,” Sola replied. “It’s not that at all. Or not just that. I’m talking about something bigger, Sis. You spend all of your time worrying about the problems of other people, of this planet’s dispute with that planet, or whether this trade guild is acting fairly toward that system. All of your energy is being thrown out there to try to make the lives of everyone else better.” “What’s wrong with that?” “What about your life?” Sola asked in all seriousness. “What about Padmé Amidala? Have you even thought about what might make your life better? Most people who have been in public service as long as you have would have retired by now. I know you get satisfaction in helping other people. That’s pretty obvious. But what about something deeper for you? What about love, Sis? And yes, what about having kids? Have you even thought about it? Have you even wondered what it might be like for you to settle down and concern yourself with those things that will make your own life fuller?” Padmé wanted to retort that her life didn’t need to be any fuller, but she found herself holding back the words. Somehow they seemed hollow to her at that particular moment, watching her nieces romping about the backyard of the house, now jumping all about poor R2-D2, Padmé’s astromech droid. For the first time in many days, Padmé’s thoughts roamed free of her responsibilities, free of the important vote she would have to cast in the Senate in less than a month. Somehow, the words Military Creation Act couldn’t filter through the whimsical song that Ryoo and Pooja were then making up about R2-D2. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]

Though Padmé certainly put her professional life ahead her personal one, she still had wants. She still like the idea of love and children, even if she seldom allowed herself to think about it. But, in the end, despite all her big words about duty and responsibilities, she was as romantic and reckless as Anakin. She too put love about work.

[Anakin] wants to serve the Jedi, and he wants to love and be loved. [Padmé] refuse to accept he must be forced to choose. “I have no authority over you,” Obi-Wan continued. “I’m perfectly aware of that. But I would ask you—beg you—to do this one thing. Leave Coruscant. Return to Naboo. Give Anakin the time he needs to recover from his injury … and realize what you and I already know: that going your separate ways is the only possible remedy for this unfortunate situation.” She blinked back stinging tears. You say you understand, Obi-Wan, but you don’t. In every way that counts you don’t know Anakin at all. But I do. I know him. I have seen his true heart. All of it. My love can save him. But she couldn’t tell Obi-Wan that. He’d never believe it. And he would never turn a blind eye now that he knew she and Anakin loved each other. So she had to make him think he’d convinced her to abandon Anakin. The need for such a deception grieved her. She liked Obi-Wan, very much. And she knew he did love Anakin, in the pallid, self-contained way of the Jedi. But Anakin’s love was like the heat of a supernova. In attempting to control it, the Jedi would destroy him. I will die before I let that happen. [Karen Miller. The Clone Wars: Wild Space]

As for the ‘forced’ wedding: that was Padmé’s idea. She was the one who manipulated Obi-wan into allowing Anakin to escort her back to Naboo by himself. So, yeah, secretly marrying Anakin was absolutely something Padmé would do:

“Yes,” she whispered, still weeping. “I’ll leave Coruscant. Spend some time with my family. And—perhaps I won’t return. To be honest, I’m not certain I can make a difference anymore. I lost the battle against the formation of the army and now I fear the voices of peace have been drowned out entirely. I do need some time to decide what I’ll do next.” Surprising her, Obi-Wan took her hand. His fingers were cold. “You’re wrong. The Senate will need you now more than ever.” Gently, she pulled free. “Maybe. Obi-Wan … I should be the one to make the break with Anakin. If it comes from you, he’ll be angry, resentful, and I don’t want there to be trouble between you. Besides, if it comes from you he might not believe it, and then I’ll just have to tell him anyway.” He smoothed his beard, thinking. “All right.”“Let Anakin escort me home to Naboo. Saying good-bye is going to be difficult. I’d like our parting to be private. Please, Obi-Wan,” she added, seeing his reluctance. “You owe me that much.” He sighed. “I can make no promises, but … I’ll do my best.” “Thank you.” “Padmé …” He shook his head. “You’re doing the right thing. The only thing that can keep him safe. Anakin will need all his strength, his focus, for what is to come. You don’t see it now but you will, in time.” He left her then. Welcoming the solitude, she stood on her apartment’s veranda and stared across the Coruscant cityscape to the distant, imposing Jedi Temple where Anakin lay cradled in his healing trance. Have no fear, my love. I won’t let them come between us. And if we stand together, not even the Force will tear us apart. [Karen Miller. The Clone Wars: Wild Space]

[nicoletm]

hi everyone. i’m mina and this is mapleview’s answer to fiona gallagher from shameless, with some of my own original points. nicole is a revamped muse that i’m so, so excited to roleplay again. this group looks amazing and i’m so excited to interact with you all!

『 shay mitchell. thirty two. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that NICOLE REYES from CHESTNUT DRIVE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -IMPULSIVE & -DEFENSIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool SECRETARY and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +PROTECTIVE & +COMPASSIONATE. i hope i see them around again! 『 mina. 22. gmt. she/her. 』

please proceed with caution! neglect tw, abandonment tw, mental health tw

nicoles’s the eldest reyes child and she had a relatively normal couple of years of her life. the reyes’s started off in a nice neighborhood, on fair lane, some houses coming with their own picket fences. that was until mr. reyes was done for fraudulent activity and landed himself in jail when she was five years old. her mother had always been sensitive but without her husband’s support she quickly fell apart.

being the eldest, nic was the one to automatically step up to help her family where she could. when she was younger, she didn’t hate her father, not how her mother proclaimed she did (although the woman visited him frequently) and she did miss him being there. she had to do the cleaning when her mother was unable to do so, help her siblings get ready. her responsibility started when she was five years old so had been robbed of any type of childhood.

without the good income of her father, the reyes family relocated to chestnut drive and it was far from what they were used to. her mother took up a job as a caterer but didn’t seem committed when she couldn’t get up out of bed. nic tried to make the woman feel better but time and time again, they would repeat conversations. it was a vicious cycle that she had no control over and that was hard.

it was an entire cycle of her father coming back into their life and then going back to jail or running from something. the more times it happened, the more hurt mireia felt. it was a betrayal each time. things would finally settle and then he’d be gone and she’d be left to pick up the pieces.

there was then five of them and it was a lot of work for nic to care for the other four. she didn’t have a break or a life, it was solely about her family. those kids deserved better than she ever had and it was up to her to give it to them.

nicole was fourteen when her mother’s mental health started detetiorating dramatically. the woman would disappear for days on end, doing goodness knows what, leaving mire to look after her siblings. her mother had been on the waiting list to see a professional about her mental health but the system was failing them all. one day her and her mother thought and the woman didn’t come back.

nic didn’t get to go to college because of her siblings. instead, she found herself working three jobs in order keep the household afloat but it was too much pressure for her. she began to show similar symptoms to her mother and was diagnosed with bpd. she was struggling but it wasn’t like anyone was going to come and help her. it wasn’t pressure that people could take away as that meant taking her siblings from her and she wouldn’t let that happen.

she was judged a lot as a kid, mostly because she was carting around kids and people assumed that they were hers. she’d always stick up for herself but be cautious as it didn’t matter if they were her’s or not, it was still prejudice and she didn’t have the time to deal with it.

she felt so bad when she cried in front of her siblings, that she wasn’t able to hide how bad their situation was. she has tried her best with them but as her siblings try to deal with her own issues, she feels like she’s failed.

when she was twenty one, she was granted official guardianship of her younger siblings. she stepped into the motherly role, even when the older ones didn’t want her to, but she had no choice. the youngest was three and she practically raised her as her own child but that also took its toll.

she would pick up temp admin jobs when she could to try to get herself out of barwork and into a more corporate setting, purely for the money. the corporate setting doesn’t suit her as a person but she’s a hardworker and has a lot of initiative so works by herself without being told what to do.

recently her father has tried to contact her to offer some support but has turned him down on multiple occasions because she can’t bear the thought of letting him into their lives and them him messing it up further.

she hates her job as a secretary but it pays well so she’s only keeping it to support her family. still, her bad attitude gets in the way sometimes. she does clash with her seniors over multiple matters as she finds it hard to take criticism when she’s trying so hard all the time and doesn’t get a single thank you. in a way, she still feels like she doesn’t deserve it but doesn’t have anyone supporting her (when someone tries, she gets defensive and pushes them away)...

she’s started partying harder and this has made her more tired and more withdrawn from her siblings. they never got to be children and now it seems that she’s being crippled under the bouts of pressure put on her. if she doesn’t have it together, everything is fragile and she hates that.

nic is scared of becoming her mother as the pressure has forced leaving for good to cross her mind on multiple occasions, and along with her recklessness, she feels she’s following in her mother’s footsteps and doesn’t want that. she feels like she’s failed with her siblings as they all manage to get themselves into trouble and she was the one who raised them...

nicole loves her siblings with all her heart; she’d do anything for them. they do love each other but every time there’s a disagreement, it feels that much worse because they’re supposed to support and love each other as they’re all they’ve got.

possible connections:

her boss: if your muse works in a corporate setting, please let her be the very talented hardworking employee that hates her job, a little to do with your muse!

the adviser: someone who frequently gives her advice how to handle her situation. sometimes the advise is taken on board, sometimes nic does the exact opposite.

the party buddy: a wild child that enables nicole to stil make decisions despite her being thirty two and still having no direction.

the will they / won’t they: someone who she likes that also likes her but they really value their friendship and are scared of messing it up. open to all!

the unlikely friends: a muse that is very rich. they come from different worlds but get on like a house on fire and always have fun and support each other.

the other ‘parents’: muses that have kids in their teens and see nic at school events. their perception of her is utp!

the adoptive parent: someone, preferably older, that has stepped into the parent role for nicole.

there is always room for friends, fwb, etc!

reyes kid reference

nicole - 32 years old

carlos - 25 years old - left mapleview

aron - 21 years old

lila - 16 years old

hazel - 14 years old

[scige-alt]

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE — don’t look now, but is that saige beaumont i see? the 21 year old criminal psychology / linguistics student is in their sophomore year and she is a rochester alum. i hear they can be blithe, energetic, evasive and irrational, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in murphy’s beach homes. ( james. 20. est. she/they. )

snjdfg these took so long i’m so sorry but anyways please LIKE and i’ll slide into yr IMs for plots !!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

[scige-archive]

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE. — saige beaumont is really making a name for themselves as a sheep. i think that she is studying criminal psychology + linguistics in their junior year at lockwood, living in alpha nu. originally from thibodaux, louisiana, saige is known to be blithe & energetic, but can also be evasive & irrational. — james / 20 / est / she/they.

hi !! this is mostly just a repost, but there has been added information to her biography section, as well as her connections to the victims. i’m excited to continue rping with u all !!!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

and while too afraid to visit the victim & their family, every month since the conviction of the others involved - she’ll visit one of them in particular. it’s been three years and saige has shown no sign of stopping.

during her last visit, he had sent her on a scavenger hunt resulting in her breaking into his brother’s (& his, technically) home and finding a second iPhone - one she had no idea he had, one with the watershed app installed. their intentions was for saige to be able to access the app - but his shepherd access had been revoked, and the phone had already been wiped clean. regardless, saige took it back to rochester with her.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

connections to the victims !!

tatiana samuels / saige & tatiana met when they were freshmen and junior, respectively. they quickly became friends - mostly seen together at parties, where they’d encourage each other to do more, more, more. their friendship was ended after they’d taken a friend’s car on a joyride and wound up crashing it off of a back road. saige freaked out about it & tatiana ... did not. as a result of their very different reactions, and saige’s fear of landing in the news, they cut ties.

george craig iii / saige had met george after bringing tatiana back to her dorm one night where they accidentally crossed paths. one thing led to another and they wound up sleeping together. it hadn’t meant to be a thing at all, but there had been two other incidents of them ‘accidentally crossing paths’ before his disappearance.

hana williams / for the two of them to not be friends would be, frankly - weird, due to their similar friendly personalities. they got along well, but weren’t the closest pair.

christoph wainwright / they had hooked up numerous times before without issue, but christoph’s jealous yet emotionally unavailable personality & saige’s own conflicted feelings had resulted in a huge fight, which led to their falling out - which led to them quickly becoming enemies, instead.

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

[artificialqueens]

(I Can Still Recall) Our Last Summer - Chapter Four (Group Fic) - pureCAMP

A/N - forever begging for your love, attention and feedback!! send ur thoughts here or to @purecamp and let me know how ur all feeling!! anyway here’s wonderwall xo

two new challengers arrive on the scene…..

It was a different kind of sex to the kind Sharon was used to, admittedly. Jaremi was every bit as wild and carefree in bed as he was in his general lifestyle. It was exactly what she needed, in truth - an escape to just close her eyes, grip the bedsheets and let the waves of pleasure erase her heartache one orgasm at a time. 

True to their new no-strings-attached attitude, once it was over, they simply lay beside one another in the bed, completely naked, not touching. Sharon tried to catch her breath, pushing down the rising urge to become affectionate. She didn’t even know Jaremi, and besides - it was a habit she was going to break, for her own good.

“So…” Jaremi’s voice was slightly breathless. “About what just happened?”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Is this the part where you call me a whore for sleeping with you?”

“Not at all. I’m just curious. You don’t seem like the type to do this all the time. I’m a writer, like I said. I want to know your story.”

Staring up at the ceiling, Sharon didn’t dare to lower her gaze, not really sure where she should be looking. The vulnerability of her situation was beginning to set in, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I don’t really have a story.” She lied. “My…”

She caught herself before she could say boyfriend. What was Justin? He had seemed like so much more than that. They’d never really talked about whether they were an item or not, it just seemed to happen. Probably, Sharon thought bitterly, he had avoided that conversation to hide his dirty secret and use her. Nothing else seemed right. She had thought of him as a lover, even going as far as to say she had truly believed that he was the one; clearly she had been alone in that belief.

“I was cheated.” She managed, once again forcing down the unwelcome feeling that came with those words. “So I’m trying something new. No strings, no attachments, no feelings.”

Jaremi nodded, offering no sympathy. In a way, Sharon was glad for his lack of emotional connection. The last thing she needed was to end up crying on someone else’s shoulder.

“I can do that.” He affirmed, nonchalant as ever. “I’ll be around, exploring the local area.”

Sharon grinned in spite of herself. “And the local girls?”

“Maybe. If they’re as easy as you are.”

Laughing, she moved to whack him with the pillow, cursing when he swerved out of her way. “Dammit!”

She sat up, suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness. She wasn’t sure how to feel - whether she should be proud or modest with her nudity. After all, it had been different with Justin. She had been sure that he loved her, and he made her feel truly beautiful. With Jaremi, she was just sexy. Was she supposed to act sexy?

Resolving to just stay casual, she tried to ignore the strange amalgamation of pride and insecurity mingling in her chest. “We should be nearing land. Go check, Captain.”

Jaremi poked his head above deck. “I see it. You planning on getting dressed before showing me around?”

Sharon forced a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. You say that a lot, huh?”

“What?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh.” Jaremi paused. “I guess I do. It’s better than yes or no. You can’t get mad at a maybe. You and I both know that no commitment is the way to go, after all.”

Sharon hugged her knees, reaching for her t-shirt as Jaremi left the room and climbed on deck to take control of the sails.

“Yeah… I guess it is.” She mumbled.

-

Just before Sharon headed in the front door, she ducked towards the shed. Jaremi had sailed her to and from the island every day for the past week and a half, the two of them keeping their affair as secret as they could. Any time her heart began to ache, or her mind began to wander towards the one that got away, she could rely on Jaremi to take her mind off of him.

They didn’t talk much. Jaremi was funny, if a little immature sometimes, but Sharon didn’t care. She wasn’t there to fall in love, but rather the opposite. She had fallen too hard and too soon, and their stress-free relationship was exactly what she needed. They were hardly friends, let alone lovers. He was just someone to fuck, and nothing more.

Since Justin had left and Jaremi had arrived, Sharon had distanced herself from everything and everyone. She still performed with Raja and Jinkx nearly every night, but she couldn’t bear the pity she saw in their eyes, nor the whispers when they thought she was out of earshot. Their concern was touching, tangible proof that they loved her, but it hurt to be reminded of her own pain. She needed to escape from it all.

It was surprisingly easy to lie. Sharon just kept herself away, wandering the island alone and fucking Jaremi on the way home after her shows, explaining to her girls that she just needed time alone to think. At least, she reasoned, it wasn’t a total lie. She was thinking a lot - perhaps too much.

As for her mother, she was easily fooled too. Mostly, she told her that she had been sleeping at Raja’s, and her friends were happy to cover for her whenever the lie was questioned. Besides, Sharon couldn’t deny that she had been enjoying herself, at first. Sex and secrecy and sinning in broad daylight in the middle of the ocean had given her the most decadent thrill. Despite that, though, a lot of her sadness had begun converting itself to anger and bitterness. This is all that I was to him, her mind kept telling her. A cheap fuck. The hooker they hire for stag parties.

Such were the thoughts that often struck her as she lay beneath Jaremi, feeling him moving inside her and gasping when appropriate. He didn’t care if her head smacked against the headboard behind them, and in her mindless state she hardly noticed. She just stared up at the ceiling, emotionally and physically numb to everything she knew she should’ve been feeling. Truthfully, it wasn’t fun anymore.

Too often, she gazed in the mirror after Jaremi left to carry on steering his little ship, and just looked at herself. She had grown accustomed to her own nakedness, her own numbness. She stared at the dark bags beneath her eyes and the black makeup smeared around them, the way her lipstick had been ferociously kissed off, the way that her skin was peppered with marks she didn’t even remember receiving.

Never before had she felt so detached from her own body.

But she had to save face, and keep up her image. Inside the shed, she quickly changed into more suitable clothing and discarded her flashy, fitted costume inside an empty paint tin, to be collected the following morning. There were some rules Sharon would never be reckless enough to break. Even so, there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she had forgotten something.

As quietly as she could, avoiding all of the creaks and bumps she had learnt to identify, Sharon crept inside.

“It’s getting dark, where have you been?” Her mother asked sternly, already waiting for her in the living room. 

Sharon swallowed, her mind briefly filling her head with flashbacks of that day. Somehow, she didn’t think that admitting how she had been laid out below deck in Jaremi’s boat would go down very well. She twirled her hair nervously around her fingers, praying it would cover any hickeys that Jaremi had left on her neck and chest.

“I’m sorry.” She rushed out, ashamed of the deep-rooted fear her mother could instil into her. “I was helping Raja and Jinkx to pack, I didn’t realize it was so late. It won’t happen again.”

Her mother was stood tall, arms crossed over her chest, her crucifix necklace gleaming in the low light. Not a single hair was out of place from her neat bun, and her face was fixed into a scowl. Sharon didn’t remember the last time she had seen her own mother smile at her. She supposed that was what happened when her impossible standards would never be met by her less-than-perfect daughter.

“Hmph.” Was the response, blatantly unsatisfied. “Perhaps if you had tried harder in school, you could be going to university too. But you failed and gave up, didn’t you?”

That stung, but she wasn’t going to show it. No, her mother didn’t deserve the satisfaction of her tears. It wasn’t her fault that she had dropped out - it was her failing grades, the information that just didn’t sink in, the knowledge that she wasn’t good enough to even sit the exams. As if she had needed more confirmation that she would never be enough.

Still, she lifted her chin. “I’ll miss them. I hope they visit.”

Her mother frowned deeper. “You’ve been missing church. People are talking, Sharon, and you know I don’t like that.”

Almost subconsciously, Sharon found herself lowering her head in submission. “I’m sorry.”

“They think you’re abandoning the faith completely. I’m disgusted at you.” She spat. “You’re coming tomorrow whether you like it or not. Understand?

Sharon nodded meekly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her mother sniffed. “And wash that makeup off your face. You look like a little tart, and I won’t have my daughter parading around like a prostitute.”

Without another word, Sharon made her way upstairs. She wished desperately she could’ve used some of that courage her friends were always telling her she had, but she knew she would never be able to, that she didn’t really possess it. There were a hundred and one things she would’ve loved to say to her mother that would never, ever be said.

Sharon felt smaller than ever as she shut the bedroom door behind her, reaching for a flannel to scrub the offending makeup from her skin. The complexity of her feelings was confusing, to say the least, as she tried to make sense of it all. Fear and anxiety swirled in the pit of her stomach from being at home. Anger and heartbreak from Justin plagued her chest. Desire and regret from Jaremi filled her entire body. Nothing seemed to make sense. Everything was conflicted.

Somehow though, beyond all explanation, she was physically trapped, but she felt free.

A knock on the window broke her out of her thoughts. She had just began to change, and her heart leapt into her mouth when she turned around, instinctively covering her bruised chest with an ugly cardigan.

“Jinkx?!” She whisper-shouted, rushing to slide the window open. “What are you doing here?!”

She stepped aside to let her in, hurrying to finish changing. In the meantime, Jinkx climbed somewhat heavily into her room, Raja hot on her heels but with a little more grace and balance. Before Sharon even knew what was happening, they were stood in her room, bearing matching grins and holding a bottle of wine each.

“I can’t believe this…” She murmured. “Guys, if my mom finds out you’re here-”

Jinkx held up a hand, slapping it over Sharon’s mouth to shut her up. “She won’t, chill out. We just came to see how you’re doing.”

“And by that, she means - we have two bottles of wine and three glasses.” Raja supplied. “Although I was kidding about the glasses. We’re swigging.”

Sharon laughed; it was a simple, pure laugh not elicited by boys, nor tainted with flirtation and heartbreak. It was the realization of how lucky she was to have her dumb friends.

“Bring it on, girls. Do your worst.” She grinned. “Sorry I’ve been so disconnected.”

Raja shook her head, pulling her and Jinkx onto the tiny single bed and attempting to squeeze under the covers. “None of that, now.” She said firmly, wedging Sharon in between her and Jinkx and handing her a bottle of red. “We understand. We’re here to show you how much we love you.”

It was utterly ridiculous. Raja was far too long for her bed, and in an attempt to make sure they all could fit, both girls had their arms wrapped around Sharon’s middle in an awkward, well-meaning cuddle. Even trying to drink the wine was an ordeal, but Sharon stored away the good feelings bubbling inside her to keep for later. Her friends had ventured out of their way to help her, and there weren’t many people in Sharon’s life who would do that. Jaremi certainly wouldn’t, and she wouldn’t expect him to. Justin… Sharon had thought that he would, only to realize she was wrong. She was lucky to have her girls.

They were all she had.

With the extent of her solitude, Sharon hadn’t been drinking much since Justin had left; she suspected her heart was a little too fragile to cope with it. It didn’t take too long for the half a bottle that she had managed - the rest, of course, commandeered by her friends - to set her off.

She buried her face in Jinkx’s shoulder, inhaling her musky perfume, and let a few stray tears fall onto her shirt. After the original heartbreak, she had sworn she wouldn’t let it overcome her again, but that was too difficult a promise to keep. Distancing herself for protection had done nothing to fill the cracks in her heart that had been left behind. Maybe a good cry was what she needed.

“You need bolstering.” Raja decided, planting a kiss on the closest bit of her she could find, which happened to be her cheek. “We’re gonna bolster you.”

“Talk to us, baby. So we can bolster.” Jinkx cuddled, if possible, even closer.

Sharon gave a short laugh, mirthless and soon fizzling out. “I don’t hate him. I feel like I should hate him.”

“I hate him.” Raja said, her voice laced with venom. “After what he did to you? If I saw him now-”

Sharon cut her off. “I would thank him. He taught me so much that I never had a chance of knowing before. I’m so angry at him.”

She paused. “My god, I’m angry at him. I’m furious. He played me. He played me and he doesn’t deserve a single second of my time and yet whenever I’m alone all I can think about is his eyes. His stupid fucking angel eyes.”

In her drunken state, the truth was confusing and yet clear all at once. The problem with the mindless convenience sex she’d been engaging in with Jaremi was exactly that - it was mindless. What she needed was a real distraction, something to pull her away from the grasp that Justin had on her.

“It’s always the pretty ones.” Jinkx agreed glumly. “They take your heart and then you have to pay the price.”

Raja hummed a little tune. “Call me a crazy drunk bitch, but-”

“Crazy drunk bitch.” Sharon and Jinkx replied in unison.

“Okay, fuck you.” Raja laughed. “But seriously. I’ve had this little melody in my head for forever. Sharon, you can put words to it. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

Sharon frowned, her mind fuzzy. “Words about what? What birds, anyway?”

“Words about him!” Raja exclaimed. “Everything you’re feeling. Slate him within an inch of his life. It’ll get your feelings out and The Supermodels are in need of a fresh new sound to reflect how much things have changed this summer.”

“After church…” Sharon nodded slowly. “I’m being forced into going tomorrow, but I’ll be free all day after that. If we can pull this off-”

“Then we’re officially the coolest girl-power band ever.” Jinkx supplied.

Sharon sighed, feeling woozy but more content than she had in a long time. “I love you girls so much.”

“We love you too.” They replied, scarily synchronised. Jinkx stroked her hair. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

The following morning, Sharon woke to a tangle of limbs and hair entwined around her body. Jinkx was drooling, her face unattractively smashed into the pillow and her hair flying around her head. Similarly, Raja was curled up against Sharon, her mouth wide open as she snored loudly. Truly, she thought to herself with a laugh, they were a charming bunch. She was almost certain that she didn’t look much better than they did.

No sooner had she woken up, though, her door knocked loudly. The jarring sound jolted both of her friends awake, and Sharon had to clap her hands over each of their mouths to prevent them from giving themselves away. That would have been suicide.

“Sharon? Are you awake yet?”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Sharon blanched. “Uh - yes! I’m just - just getting ready!”

A loud grunt. “Hmph. Hurry up, will you? You will not make me late for church, young lady.”

“Of course not.” Sharon replied, hating how easily she regressed into her meek, unimportant daughter role. “I won’t be long.”

As soon as she was sure that her mother’s footsteps had disappeared, Sharon opened her wardrobe, listening to Raja and Jinkx groaning. More than anything, she wanted to finally stand up to her mother, as they were always telling her to do, but she didn’t have the strength. Her heart was aching and the courage that she had felt when she had been with Justin had long since dissipated. An all-consuming wave of shame and embarrassment rolled over her.

“You two should go.” She suggested, her cheeks flaming. “I have to get ready… She can’t see you.”

Jinkx stretched. “It’s alright, we can go out the window again. Don’t worry about us.”

Sharon smiled weakly. “If I can face the stage later, I’ll be there. So long as I survive church, anyhow.”

Raja let out an almighty snort. “Girl, I don’t know how you do it. But you gotta come along tonight! Song or no song, we’re gonna dress up and we’re gonna dance and you’re gonna be our dancing queen again. We can find you a new man, or maybe a cutie to take the edge off…”

Both girls remained in Sharon’s bed as she began to change, tugging the skirt down and the shirt up in an attempt to look as modest as she could. Normally, she would use makeup to try and hide the dark circles underneath her eyes, but she didn’t have much time. Besides, her mother called her a tart for wearing even the slightest hint of cosmetics.

“I look like shit.” Sharon grumbled, staring at herself with distaste. Raja not-so-subtly elbowed Jinkx and hissed “Bolster!”

“No, baby!” Jinkx rubbed her arm, glaring at Raja as she swung herself out of the bed. “You’re beautiful!”

“She’s right, you know.” Raja nodded, glaring back. “I tried to flirt with this guy the other night and he did give it to me, but then he did admit that he has a thing for blondes more than anything, so he might be interested in you. I think he said his name was Jaremi. Maybe we can find him tonight, set you up.”

Sharon laughed nervously. “Yeah, maybe…”

She wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t feel right to tell them that she’d been seeing anyone, let alone that it was Jaremi. It wasn’t like they were going to judge her - they had been doing more outrageous things for a much longer time - but it felt like a secret she had to keep to herself.

It wasn’t like it would matter, anyway. Soon enough they’d be going off to their universities, getting with as many guys and girls as they wanted, and they wouldn’t be physically able to tell one another about each and every encounter. Perhaps it was just for the best.

Sharon tried not to think about them leaving.

“SHARON! COME ON! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!”

Her eyes wide, Sharon practically shoved her friends towards the window and dashed from her room, taking the stairs two at a time in her hurry to evade punishment. At the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips, her mother looked as judgemental and expectant as ever.

“Hmph. Skirt’s a little short, don’t you think?” 

Sharon tried to calm her breathing. “Is it? I-”

A sharp slap cut her off. “You look disgraceful. I’ve half a mind to make you change, but we don’t have time. The Lord doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I didn’t realize the Lord was operating on a time limit.” Sharon replied, cupping her stinging cheek. “Here was me thinking he loves us all eternally.”

Her mother’s face hardened. For a moment, Sharon could see the resemblance between the two of them, and she despised it. She swore she would never look at her future daughter the way her mother was looking at her, with anger and hatred in her gaze. As her mother raised her hand again, Sharon narrowed her eyes.

“Do it, and I’ll tell the vicar exactly why my face is so red.” She threatened, clenching her jaw. “I’m dressed, I’m ready. Pretty sure the Lord is waiting for us.”

Despite the rage blazing in her eyes, her mother simply turned and walked out, giving in to the argument. There would be hell to pay later - meaning Sharon had to avoid going home for as long as she could manage - but that was fine. She could check with Fernando, see how the weather was going to be, and take a chance. Shivering through a storm would be better than coming home to this.

As they arrived, late as expected, Sharon split from her mother to the only other available seat, next to a young man that she didn’t recognise. She knew the act of splitting and sitting by a man, in itself, would irritate her mother, but that was beside the point. She needed to get away.

The guy winked at her as she slipped into the seat beside him, acknowledging the length of her skirt with a smirk. Sharon cocked an eyebrow at him, letting the neckline of her shirt fall lower as it was supposed to and adjusting her rosary so it rested atop her now-slightly exposed cleavage.

Flirting in church. That was new.

The blonde eyed her up and down, chuckling quietly to himself before focusing on the service again. Thankfully, the old lady next to him didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, so Sharon was able to avoid another set of glaring eyes.

As the service went on, the blonde gestured discreetly, making a mockery of the priest’s words and stories as he droned on. It was all Sharon could do not to burst out laughing in the middle of the service, lest she be ripped to shreds.

Part of her wanted to start talking to the stranger when the service was over, and see if he was as amusing as he seemed in the midst of the service, but she mentally decided against it. Girl time, she reminded herself. She had Jaremi if she needed anything, and the very last thing she needed was to add another guy into the mix. Still, she could see a spark in him - like how his eyes had glazed over, telling of the fact that he, like herself, wasn’t all too invested in the preaching of the church.

When the service ended, she blew a kiss and left sharpish. Getting caught up with her mother would definitely end badly, so she was quick to dive out of the way and take a few back streets towards the dock. 

I can’t believe her, she thought to herself. I can’t believe she fucking hit me again. No. Fuck her. She doesn’t deserve my time, even in my thoughts.

Instead, her thoughts drifted - regrettably - back to Justin. Raja and Jinkx had a point, that she should be angry at him too, and writing might make her feel better, but she still wasn’t so sure. The whole situation made her feel sick to the stomach whenever she thought about him. Staring at that photograph, the look that he was giving that girl… it was so familiar and yet so alien that it made her shiver.

There was too much to say. Too much for one song, surely. She wasn’t sure if she was angry, or sad, or lonely. She was just conflicted and confused, and it was his fault. He was impossible to write about - not again.

-

“There’s two.” 

Jinkx nearly fell off her barstool. “Two? What, like two verses, or?”

“Two songs.” Sharon corrected her. “I don’t know what happened! I just - I don’t know!”

She sighed. “He’s been gone for two weeks. I don’t know why I still care. But when I put pen to paper, it was like I couldn’t stop. All I can think about is him.”

Raja pursed her lips, evidently displeased. “Fucker. And he’s not even sparing a thought in your direction.”

Seemingly delighted at the opportunity, Jinkx thwacked Raja as hard as she could. “Raj, bolster! Besides, we don’t know that. Maybe he’s thinking about how he made a huge mistake, and how we’re gonna beat the crap out of him. Anyway, we’re bolstering.”

Sharon giggled. “I don’t need bolstering! I’m fine, just frazzled. Besides, only one of them could actually be performed, this one has no substance to it whatsoever. It’s just prose of me whining about how one of us is happy and one of us isn’t.”

“Prose is a big word for you.”

“Thank you.” She laughed, properly this time. “Anyway, fuckin’… there you go. Angel Eyes. All about deception. It should fit your melody, Raja. It’s only rough anyway.”

Cosied up at the bar together, they began dissecting through the song, humming sections and scribbling annotations onto the paper. As usual, the little taverna was empty in the daytime, save for a few regulars sipping at their beers and Maria, washing mugs with a rag. With any luck, it would fill up in the evening, drawing people in with their music. Some nights they even had to perform outside, the venue too small to contain the amount of people that wanted to drink and dance and listen to the band. Sharon hoped tonight would be one of those nights.

“Maria! My God, you’re beautiful!”

Maria chuckled as a man’s voice yelled out the compliment, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the taverna.

“You flatter, Willam. Your great grandmother Pat come through here not so long ago, you just miss her by minutes.”

Willam laughed good-naturedly. “Can’t believe she’s ninety two years old and faster than me. Hey, it’s you! From church!”

This time, his words were directed at Sharon, who hadn’t looked up from the plethora of notes and doodles that now covered the song. When she met his gaze, she let out a little gasp of disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” She found herself blurting out.

“What are you doing here?” He responded, mimicking her tone with a grin. “I have family here!”

Sharon nodded, dumbfounded. “I have a job here…” She gestured to the paper.

Without asking, Willam snatched the paper from beneath Jinkx’s pen and began to scan through it, much to the protests of the girls. After a few moments of skim-reading, he nodded and handed it back.

“Ooh, girl. Who did this to you? Someone on the island? I come here sometimes, I might know them to kick their ass, or get them fired.”

Sharon laughed. “He’s gone, it doesn’t matter.”

Raja frowned. “Sharon, who is this?”

“I don’t know.” Sharon admitted. “Blondie?”

Willam extended his hand, shaking Raja’s vigorously. Something about his unwavering smile was amusing, and she ended up laughing. It was too fake to be real, but a little too real to be entirely fake. It didn’t make much sense, but Sharon was beginning to realize that most men didn’t make much sense.

“I’m Willam, obviously. You just heard darling Maria announce my presence. Sharon and I met earlier today, I guess you could say.” A mischievous sparkle lit up his blue eyes. “She showed me her tits in church.”

Sharon gasped. “I did not!” She defended herself. “It was a tease at best.”

Jinkx laughed uproariously. “Sharon! God, we’ve taught you well.”

“Your song is good, girls.” Willam said suddenly, peering over Raja’s shoulder once more to see what she was writing. “I think I’ll come down tonight to watch, maybe bring Pat with me. I’m a musician too, I’ve performed here a few times. I’ll be seeing you.”

He gave a little wave as he went out, blowing a kiss in the same manner that Sharon had as she left church.

“I guess you will,” Sharon called after him, pushing down the sinking feeling in her chest. This really is the last thing you need. Even if he is attractive, you don’t need to get mixed up with another guy.

If only she had the willpower.

[delos-mio]

Death of a Bachelor - Part 5

A/N: I’m not dead, just depressed! Here’s the next installment. I’d link to the other chapters, but I’m not sure if that whole links-in-posts thing is still a thing. As always, let me know your thoughts/feelings/predictions etc.!

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“Don’t know what you mean, sis,” Logan shrugged, eyes fixed on his phone. He was sitting upright in Juliet’s spot on her bed; he had stopped by the home she shared with William to see her after she got back from an extended work trip. Thankfully, William was already back at the office, so Logan was actually able to enjoy time with Juliet without his future brother-in-law lurking over his shoulder.

“You think I didn’t notice who won your bid and who you left with that night?” She stopped putting away her clothes for just a moment and crossed her arms in Logan’s general direction.

“So? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, arrogance lacing his voice.

“The big deal,” Juliet walked over and pushed his phone away from his face, forcing him to look at her, “Is that she’s working under a contract for us. And she’s really good at her job, so I’d rather not lose her from this huge opening when you inevitably hit it and quit it.”

“Ouch, Jules. That one hurt.” He said this as though he were kidding around with his sister, but her words really did stab through him. She wasn’t wrong to say it, that was his M.O. after all. It was the truth of it that hurt him the most; he hated himself for her being right.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” she sighed and pushed his legs, silently asking him to move over. “I just really like her and I don’t know if it’s smart to muddy all this shit up by fooling around with her, or whatever it is that you guys are doing.”

“What if I really like her too?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” He hadn’t told you this, of course. Not yet, anyways. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hanging on your every word, hook, line, and sinker. For all the teasing he was responsible for, he couldn’t wait to see you. Hell, he couldn’t wait just to see your name light up his screen. Juliet leaned to rest her head on Logan’s shoulder, his own easily lobbing on top of hers.

“Then fuck what I have to say about it,” she laughed. “What if daddy finds out, though?”

“I guess we just have to make sure he doesn’t, hm?” He reached out his pinky to her, waiting for hers to link up. Juliet grabbed on to his and shook once in agreement. It was a sign of solidarity they’d continued from childhood, the pinky promise. Growing up, they both got into a lot of trouble that had to never make it to the ears of their father. Each time they had to pick each other up or bail the other one out or just act as a confidant, they swore each other to secrecy. The Delos siblings were two sides of the same wild coin- Juliet had just grown out of it sooner. “That means not telling your stupid fiancé either,” he added with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re asking me to keep secrets from my husband already? Shoulda known,” she smiled. “And will you please stop talking shit about him to me? I’m going to marry the guy whether you like it or not.”

“No,” he said defiantly.

After leaving Juliet to unpack the last of her things, Logan headed back to his house on the coast to enjoy the rest of the weekend before you both had to go back into the office. He dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and stalked around the living room, noticing it was empty. When he got back to his room, you were still laying in the middle of the bed, barely covered by a thin, white sheet. He kicked off his shoes and slid in next to you, making you stir just slightly.

“Right where I left you, perfect,” he mused as he trailed a long finger down your bare spine. You rolled over onto your side to look up at him. Even though you were disappointed he had added a few layers of clothes since you last saw him, he still looked incredible. Since the night of the auction, you’d spent most evenings with Logan. That night was just over a month ago, but being with Logan made you feel like it was only yesterday. He fucked you into the mattress and understood the unique pressures you faced at the helm of your business. Though you told yourself you shouldn’t be mixing business and pleasure, Logan just made it too damn hard not to.

“Sorry. Your bed is comfy as fuck,” you smiled, nuzzling into his side.

“You’re welcome to stay in it as long as you’d like. You just have to promise you’ll stay just,” he softly kissed your lips, “like,” a kiss to your shoulder, “this.” He placed his final kiss low on your chest, earning a hum of approval.

“I have to run a few errands before tomorrow, so I can’t stay too much longer,” you said softly. Logan groaned and held you closer, pressing needier and needier kisses along your collar bone. “I could probably be talked into a shower first, though.” He raised his head to look at you and you arched your eyebrow back, asking him to accept your offer. Logan got up from bed and quickly shed his dark tee and pushed his jeans down around his ankles. As you got up to follow him, you couldn’t help the laugh that came out. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Right as your lips had found his, Logan’s palms running over the curve of your behind, the sound of tires on concrete pulled his focus from you. He looked over toward the window and furrowed his brow, clearly annoyed something was about to delay getting handsy with you in the shower. He stepped over to the covered pane and drew back the heavy curtain only far enough to peek out and see who could possibly be paying him a house call. When he saw the shiny black Maserati speed up the driveway, he pulled the curtains closed tightly and quickly.

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath. He found his jeans and hastily buttoned them around his hips. “This is going to sound shitty, but I need you to promise me that you’ll stay right here and not make a sound.” Logan held your face between his hands, his dark eyes fixed and serious.

“Logan, what’s going…”

“Please. Please, just promise me,” he pleaded quietly. You nodded silently and he placed a single kiss on your forehead before storming out of his bedroom and shutting the door loudly behind him.

Logan was off. Whatever he saw outside had been scary enough to genuinely spook him. You’d always seen him completely in control of his emotions. Seeing him now, so shook up and anxious, made your stomach hurt. You tip toed up to the sliver of a gap where the door met its frame and pressed your ear. You knew you shouldn’t be snooping, but you had to know what on earth could possibly make him so skittish.

“Dear old Dad…” Logan drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Your hand clamped down over your mouth to keep yourself silent. Everything you heard about Jim Delos was unpleasant. He was an undeniably successful businessman, but a lousy husband and father. All the sacrifices he made to build his empire came at the expense of his relationships with everyone in his family. You’d been fortunate enough to only work with the Delos siblings up to this point and you sure as shit didn’t want this to be the way you were introduced to him. Something told you he wouldn’t exactly appreciate you fucking his son while under contract for his company.

“Logan.” Jim’s thick accent carried across the living room. “I just got the final Q2 numbers from the board.”

“And I suppose they weren’t up to snuff, hm?” Logan mocked.

“You watch your tone, boy.” You could hear Jim’s heavy footsteps pace around. All you could picture was a predator stalking its prey. “Why the fuck is Westworld draining so much goddamn money!”

“Well, Jim,” he said patronizingly. “Keeping the park open takes money. Imagine that!”

“Goddamn it, Logan!” he bellowed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a fist against a table. “You will get these numbers under control! You’re not 21 anymore; you’re not allowed to be this reckless. I’m not going to fucking tell you again.”

“You really drove all the way out to Malibu to yell at me?” Logan half laughed. “This really feels like this is something you could have just as easily done over the phone.”

“You’re not shit and you’ve never been shit, boy. If you weren’t my own, William would be sitting in your chair,” Jim retaliated.

“Get out of my fucking house.” The directive was spoken quietly, but firm in its intent. Logan was proper angry and Jim knew it. He didn’t care; he knew exactly which button to push to crack his son. There was silence for a moment followed by the harsh slam of Logan’s front door.

You covered yourself with his shirt he left on the floor and scuttled back over to the bed. Minutes passed in silence before there was any evidence of movement beyond the bedroom door. When Logan finally re-entered his room, he looked exhausted. The color was drained from his face and his eyes were distinctly tired. All you could do was stare back at him. You opened up your arms to him, offering the only thing you could think to do. But Logan looked away first and waved you off.

“I think you should go,” he whispered.

“Logan, I—”

“Just go, ok?” He wasn’t angry, no. Logan sounded embarrassed. For some reason, that made your heart clench even more.

You so badly wanted to tell him not to be, that you understood and would do whatever he needed to feel better. But his request was final and you thought it best not to pick a fight, not this time. You pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the duvet; his eyes wandered over to your naked skin and he watched as you stepped back into your dress from the night before. Just as you were about to pass him, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The skin just below his eye was damp and tasted salty like the sea beyond his window. There was nothing you could say to him, so you quietly grabbed your bag and got in your car.

When you got into the office the next morning, you were groggy. After a weekend hedonistic romp with Logan punctuated by him coolly forcing you to leave, you didn’t get much rest once you got back home. But that’s what coffee is for, right? Logan hadn’t reached out to you since you left the day before. That was unusual for him, but you supposed he was wallowing a bit and didn’t want you to be part of it.

The rest of the day past without a peep from Logan. Part of you was starting to worry, but he was a grown man who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. You reminded yourself that even though you’d been into each other for months now, he was not your boyfriend and you were not obligated to worry about him when he wasn’t around. But then it got to be Thursday. Four days of radio silence from Logan. You texted him once around Tuesday night just to see if you could get him to bite. Nothing. Fine- if he didn’t want talk, then neither did you. The time for playing bullshit games like this was a thing of the past. Another week passed without word and while the world kept turning, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.

You did your best to push the incident and subsequent ice out from your mind and dove into a campaign proposal sent from one of your brightest interns. Just as you put your glasses on to settle in for hours of staring at a buzzing screen, there was a soft ding from your phone beside you.

L: Hello darling ;)

Hello? Darling? Emoji? You shook your head a bit, rattling your brain to hopefully knock loose the part that would make sense of his text. For some reason, you thought his first contact with you would be something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry for ghosting’ or even a bashful ‘hey’. Not this.

Y: Hi Lo L: Would I sound like a gushy freak if I said I missed you? Y: Yes L: Ok, how about…let me bring you dinner because I miss you? Y: Like eat at my place? Are you sure? It’s no immaculately clean mansion along the coast L: I’m sure I can survive in squalor for a night Y: Shut up L: Is that a yes? Y: It’s a yes. I should be home around 7 if you want to come over whenever after that L: It’s a DATE! Y: 🙄

He acted like nothing happened. You wanted to be irritated with him. Really, you wanted to tell him off when you saw him, but the more you sat and thought about it, the less it seemed to anger you. Logan had shown you with perfect clarity what this…this thing between the two of you was. He was not beholden to you and the two of you were just fun. You could live with just fun. Did you even have time for more than a casual hook up anyways? Maybe Logan was smart and charming and funny in the most exhausting way possible, but there was no sense in getting attached. With this sudden wave of peace washing over you, you were able to finish your work and leave ahead of schedule.

You applied the last coat of mascara to your lashed when you heard a knock on the door down the hallway. Logan was casual tonight, his dark jeans hugging his thighs and black shirt laying perfectly over his lean torso. It had been close to two weeks since you last saw him, not a long time in the grand scheme of things, but you’d somehow forgotten just how handsome Logan really was. He took a long step to let himself inside your apartment, his chest pressed flush against you.

“Hi,” you mumbled, finally looking up at him somewhat nervously. He was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey,” he said before leaning down and connecting his lips with yours. You could feel the sigh release from your body and didn’t care if he noticed. This was the feeling you’d missed so much over this little hiatus. Logan had relaxed too; you could feel him loosen as his lips moved over yours. When he pulled away, he was still smiling. “Goddamn, I don’t even want dinner anymore. I just want to take you back to your room and make you come once for each day I missed you.”

“I’m starving,” you said, grabbing the bag he carried in with him. “So I guess you’ll just have to wait.” As you walked over to the couch, you could hear the sigh from behind you and the sound of Logan closing the door behind you. “What’d you bring me anyways?”

“Sushi. I believe a little birdie once told me she loved Shunji,” he said smugly, clearly proud of himself for remembering something you’d mentioned to him months ago.

“They…they don’t even do take out! How di—”

“They do when you’re a Delos,” he winked. You were a little speechless. Everything you thought you had figured out this morning was scrapped and you were back to square one with trying to figure Logan out.

“Well, Logan Delos, thank you,” you said formally, raising your glass of wine to his before taking a drink. For a moment, you ate in silence, reveling in the fresh, delicious sushi Logan brought you. He seemed content enough to just enjoy the company and share dinner together. As you were nearing the end of your meal, you cleared your throat a bit, preparing to address the elephant in the room. “So…been a bit since we’ve talked,” you said, hoping you sounded more sure than you felt.

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry about that. I just had some shit I had to do and I…” he began.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me. I would have appreciated it if you would have just let me know you’re too busy for me or whatever, but there’s no use in fighting about shit we can’t change, right?” When you looked over at him, he looked confused.

“You’re not mad?” he asked.

“I was. I was really mad at you. But then I figured it out. You were telling me in a really shitty, roundabout way that we’re just fuck buddies, and I can live with that.” You tried to give him a smile, but he looked like the angry one now.

“You really think I just want to fuck you?” His eyebrows pulled together, his expression cross.

“Well, yeah. Almost two weeks of fucking silence kind of gives off that vibe. You know what?” you scoffed. “Now I am mad at you again! God, Logan! First it’s you have to be with me even when I TOLD you this was not smart, then you’re flirting with all of God’s creation to make me jealous, THEN you’re hiding me from your dad and blowing me off. And now you have the nerve to act like nothing happened and bring me food from one of my favorite restaurants.” You were breathless. “So what is it Logan? Do you even have feelings for me at all or is this just a bunch of bullshit so we can fuck? Because if it’s the second one, I’d rather drop all the pretenses and just sleep with each other.”

Logan looked wounded. He’d heard you out and knew deep down you were right. But there was that part of him that refused to be too vulnerable. You already knew more about him than any of his friends. Only Juliet likely knew Logan better than you. He let out a sigh and ran his palms over his face, scratching lightly when he reached his beard. “I like you. Really. I like you a lot. But I don’t…I don’t know how to be anything worthwhile for other people.”

“Logan…”

“I mean it. I don’t know how to be a boyf—” his voice caught on the word, “boyfriend. I know I can’t be what you deserve. I’m giving you what I can, I promise you, and I’m sorry if it’s not enough. It wouldn’t be the first time,” he laughed bitterly.

“Hey,” you said softly, inching closer to him. “I’m not asking for you to start sending out Christmas card with me. All I need from you is to just be honest with me, maybe even a little open if that’s not asking too much.” You both laughed a little.

“I really am sorry. My dad tends to bring out the defiant teenager in me still.”

“I understand. Do you want to talk about it?” you offered gingerly. There was conflict behind his gaze. The scared, tired little boy in Logan wanted to let it all out and cry in your arms until his eyes were dry. But the guarded man in front of you wanted to keep pretending like he didn’t have a gaping wound open.

“If it’s ok, I’d rather make out until I forget about the whole thing,” he said as he ran his knuckles along your jawline. The guarded man had won, but you’d had enough arguing for one evening and climbed into his lap, his grasp firm on your hips when you crashed your lips into his.

[portuscale-hq]

Star Butterfly | 23 | Fixed–>Greater Good | Wand

Realm: Wonderland 

Occupation: Sophomore at PCU-->Magical Law

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: Up to player

FC: Dove Cameron

She is: Bubbly-->Passionate-->Driven

But also: Childish-->Argumentative-->Restless

Based on Star Butterfly from Star vs. the Forces of Evil

OPEN || TAKEN

Love is like something new ||

Not exactly supposed to be born, she was an accident waiting to happen. Which describes most things in her life. Star was never a child of productivity. Always fleeting from one moment to the next with reckless abandon. Never a care in the world for her actions and that was exactly what her mother was trying to avoid. While her mother tried her best to raise a proper young princess, her father was one to let her do her own thing. He wanted her to learn from her mistakes and dance to the beat of her own drum. That was where her parents differed the most. Star took after her dad in his care free ways and often lived her life in the moment. Until the day that was’t okay anymore. Her mother had had enough of her daughter’s antics and set the record straight. Telling her that she needed to get her act together if she wanted her wand. This was enough to scare her into shape...for a little bit. t was just enough to get her wand. But then Star quickly realized that she didn’t know how to handle her magic.

It was her sixteenth birthday and upon receiving the royal magic wand, her mother tells her it’s a big responsibility. Her mother makes her promise that she’ll be careful with it and keep it from the wrong hands. After a making the promise, Star proceeds to set the entirety of their dimension on fire. It was then that her mother decided to sent her to earth to learn how to properly handle her magic. It’s here where she meets Marco, a boy her age, who then quickly becomes he best friend. Though her true best friend, Poe, is displeased with this. After years of living on earth, Star finally mastered her magic and returned home where she learned the truth about her mother and her aunt. Her mother was not supposed to be queen. Her aunt, Eclipsa was being that she was the oldest. But her mother had tricked her parents and ratted her aunt out for a forbidden relationship she harbored.

This caused her aunt to be sent away and left her mother to be crowned the queen. Star was furious that her mother would stoop so low and as a result gave her the crown once she was queen. Now, she has nowhere to go as a war struck between her mother and her aunt. Star, wanting nothing to do with it began to lost control of her magic, which is closely linked to her emotions. She fled to Portus Cale in search of a man she heard could help her regain control of her magic. But this new realm is under attack itself. Now she doesn’t feel safe anywhere.

Why is that in the middle ||

Marco Diaz-->”You’re afraid to tell Jackie you have a crush on her but you’re not afraid of bears?”

Since the lived together for so long it’s hard to tell what kind of relationship the two have anymore.

Poe Heed-->”Weirder than a dimension of cats with human faces?”

They’ve been best friend since they were kids. Sometimes they refer to themselves more as sisters.

Tom Lucitor-->”I do have a crush on you.”

They used to date a long time go. He never got over her although it’s fairly obvious she’s moved on.

Isabelle Villanueve-->”Let’s get wild.”

She sees in her the girl she could have been should her mother have her way. It makes her sad and she wants to help her break loose.

[emzymakesbelieve]

not to be fake deep but let's talk about all your old walt babies that you haven't mentioned (because i love the hainline's okay and you and all your kids and i miss you

Send me an old muse and I’ll gush about them.

oKAY SIT DOWN AND BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS.

(I love you, too, sweet pea.  *smooch*)

Frank Hainline

So Frank is a prick, to start off, but he’s my prick and you’re not allowed to trash talk him without my say so (which of course you have because he’s A PRICK).  He was the kind of kid who wore an anarchy symbol on his jacket but never actually did anything to represent or invoke anarchy.  He’s also a gigantic slut and can’t keep his pants zipped for longer than ten minutes.  Fidelity is not this man’s middle name (*CoUgH* illegitimate child he never knew about).  He definitely wasn’t ready to become a father when Victoria got pregnant (and more or less trapped him into marriage), but by the time baby Penelope came, he devoted every ounce of energy he could to making sure she had a good life, and the two of them actually grew very close.  He passed away from cancer when Penelope was about ten.

Norma Hainline

Penelope’s eldest.  The two most important things you need to know about Norma are that she’s a dancer and she’s gay as a maypole.  Her main focuses are tap and ballet.  She loves old Hollywood - she got her start watching Singin’ in the Rain and Fred & Ginger films - but definitely prefers to live in the here and now where she can express herself both as an artist and as a lesbian.  The dance world, much as she loves it, is a crusty old institution that needs to break some pointless rules and get over itself.  She is also Grade A Mom Friend Extraordinaire™.  Her love language is definitely acts of service, particularly making sure you’re eating and sleeping well and taking your medicine on time (though turns out she’s a terrible patient herself).  Much to her frustration, her two closet friends - Noah and Nick - are both more or less bent on self destruction and driving her completely bonkers, but she loves them just the same.

Francis Hainline

Francis, the third eldest, has no business being in this family with how shy he is, but nevertheless.  Definitely the black sheep of the family, but his siblings defend and support him with everything they have.  (Well, Kath usually does it with a lot of sarcasm, but you can tell she loves him.)  He’s a total hipster and has a special love for anything that was built before the year 2000.  His prize possession is an old camcorder that uses real VHS tapes, so naturally he becomes a film student.  I envision him growing up and working as a cinematographer and eventual director of poignant indie films and documentaries - stuff with lots of lingering, fly-on-the-wall shots.  Also, special shoutout to Seraphina, the love of his got dang life.  Those two gave me so many freaking cavities with their cuteness.

Kathleen Hainline

So Kath is a mess, but that’s just par for the course in this family, I suppose.  She’s the baby of the family and has always felt like she’s living in her sister Norma’s shadow.  She’s a bit of a wild child, but certainly not to the extent Victoria was.  It’s all just a cry for attention, trust me.  She wants to feel needed, she wants to feel wanted, she wants to feel special.  And anything that takes the attention of the people she loves off of her needs to die, plain and simple.  She’s best friends with Daisy and is technically endgame with Jonas (though we really didn’t get to write them that far), so here goes a prayer candle for my lovely Becca.

Dory Novak

As you can probably guess by the name, Dory is based on that delightful blue tang we know and love.  In the Walt universe, she developed her short term memory loss after an accident that killed her parents, and was adopted by Marlin.  She loves swimming and her family and especially anything combining the two.  She’s a freaking sweetheart who is actually pretty hard on herself, and it was so heartbreaking to play her in any kind of stressful situation because five minutes later she would still be freaked out by have no idea as to why (looking at you, Scream event).  Also, Scooby liked her a lot and I felt so freaking blessed???  She ends up becoming a social worker and helping kids in the foster system like her.

Charlie Harper & Jenny Harper née Parkington

I never got to properly play Dory’s parents, but here’s the fast and skinny on them.  Jenny was a shy bookworm who never thought boys would be interested in her and (for the most part) had made peace with that theory.  Charlie was a jock who was head over heels for Jenny but never knew how to communicate it without being a sleaze.  Eventually, he manages to ask her out, she says yes, and they pretty much become attached at the hip.  She comes to his basketball games and swim meets decked out in the school colors and cheering like a maniac.  My guess is Dory came a little earlier than they were expecting, but not so early that it would be considered scandalous - probably when they were almost finished with college or something.  Dory became their world and they spoiled that little girl beyond belief.  Unfortunately, both of them were killed in a car wreck when Dory was very little.

Marlene Novak

Dory’s first kid, adopted.  To sum it up nicely, Marlene’s a hot mess because she was never able to come to terms with the fact that her birth mother didn’t want her.  I tried to start this whole plot where she ran into her birth mother just out in the wild and that made her get even messier, but I think I was just throwing crap on the fire to see what blew up at that point.  She also has a…flirtatious arrangement, shall we say, with her friend Viv.

Lyle Novak

Dory’s second kid, also adopted.  *sigh*  Lyle, Lyle, Lyle…  He’s a cutie, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like I didn’t give his character enough punch?  He just seems kind of blah now that I look back at him.  I have a history of being super self conscious about my male characters if they don’t have like a Super Archetype personality for some freaking reason, and Lyle is definitely an example of that.  He’s a little shy, but not so shy that it’s endearing, and he’s also a little courageous, but not so courageous that he actually gets crap done.  He’s a little complacent, looking back on him, which is kind of the opposite of how I wanted to play him...?  I dunno.  Maybe I’m being too harsh on myself.  HE’S CUTE.  LIFE GOES ON.

Cinderella Tremaine

To the surprise of absolutely no one, I’ve actually played a Cinderella counterpart in a few different groups, but let’s just talk about how I portrayed her at Walt.  French transfer student in America (I changed her to straight up American after a point) who loves animals arguably more than life itself and tries her best not to cry over things she can’t control.  She’s also daydreamy as FRICK.  Loves to get lost in her own imagination.  If she’s not engaged in conversation or work of some kind, I can guarantee you her conscience isn’t even on this plane.  Also, can I just shriek about the superhero AU version of her where she was a counterpart to Zatanna and literally became her own fairy godmother?  Because I think about that far more than is probably healthy.

Emmett Tremaine & Johanna Tremaine née Cartier

Same thing as Dory’s parents, just gonna give you a quick lowdown.  Johanna came from a fairly well off family in France (distantly related to those guys, but far enough away that it doesn’t really count), but her parents thought she was an absolute embarrassment.  She was never afraid to speak her mind when it came to things like etiquette and politics, and she had a fabulously wild imagination.  She never stopped believing in fairies, ghosts, gremlins, things like that.  Emmett was that quiet nerd dreamer type, very much obsessed with travel and history.  And like I need to spell it out for you, but they were LUDICROUSLY in love with each other.  Like, nauseatingly so.

Robby Tremaine

Robby is Cindy’s son I whipped up real quick one next gen when I was going crazy and wanted to snatch Nick Robinson’s beautiful face.  He’s a hardcore farm boy who doesn’t mind a little mud behind his ears and super environmentally conscious.  Not just recycling and veganism and all that, but he will go off on you about sustainable farming and animal raising, and how the hydrogen fuel cell is the way of the future.

Taige Bailey

Based on Terk from Tarzan, Taige is a super jock, total butch lesbian, and altogether DUMBNUT.  Like, GOD she’s so stupid sometimes because she just barrels into crap with reckless abandon and doesn’t think things through.  Dear God, she will PUNCH you if you so much as look at her funny, just ‘cause she feels bored.  And she walks around like she’s God’s gift to creation, but she’s just a little twerp.  But she’s my twerp.  (Huh.  I’m just now realizing how similar Taige and Pen are.  In a weird way, Taige is like the tomboy version of Pen.)  Here, you can imagine me lighting a prayer candle because I never got to play her against her two best friends and I’m SAD.  Y’ALL NEVER GOT TO EXPERIENCE THE TOUR DE FORCE THAT IS T CUBED.  Also *cough* she and Vitani may have had a *coUGH* flirtationship.

I would also put Taige’s parents on this list, but they’re so hardly even developed that it’s not really worth mentioning them.  I only know their names: Lamarr and April.

Jared Bailey

Taige’s only child, Jared’s still trying to figure out what masculinity means to him, what with being raised by two women and all.  He can get a little “dudebro alpha male” sometimes, but he’s also that kid you definitely want to have your back when things get rough.  He’ll help you with your homework, teach you how to shoot a three-pointer, and walk you home when it’s dark like the gentleman he is.

[fandorkofeverything]

Doubts And Scars Chapter Two

There are no clear ages for the gang, but I see Javier in his early twenties, give or take. Kat is nineteen, just to be clear:)

/Katherine's P.O.V/

"He ain't been seen in three days. The weather ain't let up." Aunt Abigail worried, talking to Tilly and I. Javier was there, but he wasn't in the conversation, really.

"He's strong, and he's smart." Tilly consoled her and Abigail sighed.

"Strong at least." She commented.

I snickered at my Aunt's comment; she did have a point though. My Uncle John was very strong and muscular, but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed. Sure acts like it though.

"Uncle John can be reckless, naïve, stupid, dumb as rocks and a fool—" I started to say, but Aunt Abagail interrupted me.

"How is this supposed to help?"

I held a finger up for her to be quiet. "I'm not finished." I paused for effect. "Be that as it may…. He's gotten out of more situations than me and you in. he'll find his way back."

I noticed Javier look over his shoulder at me, he had a smile on his face and his beautiful chocolate brown eyes were sparkling, I blushed slightly, looking down, my hair hanging in my face. Why is it so hard to control my goddamn emotions?! I love him I really do. I want him to know it. But we could never be together. Plus, my father would most likely kill him in his sleep… Let's hope that doesn't happen.

I heard the door open and close, my Dad walked in. he put another log in the fire.

"Hello Arthur."

"Abigail." Dad rubbed his hands together to keep warm. Aunt Abigail stood up and looked him in the eye.

"Arthur. How you doing?"

"Just fine Abigail….. And you?"

"I need you to…." Arthur scoffed in irritation. "I'm sorry to ask, but I need you to-"

"It's little John. He's got himself caught into a scrape again."

"He ain't been seen in!-" Abigail choked on her words. "Two days."

"Your John will be fine. I mean, he may be as dumb as rocks and as dull as rusted iron, but that ain't changin' because he got caught in some snowstorm!"

"At least go take a look!" Bubba told him, taking Abigail's side. "Javier?"

"Yes?"

"Javier, will you ride out with Arthur to take a look for John? You're the best two fit men we got."

"Now?" Javier questioned, looking annoyed.

"She's… We're-…. Well, we're all pretty worried about him."

"He'd do it for us, Dad." I commented, earing eye-contact from him.

"I know that if the situation were reversed," Javier handed Dad some gloves. "He'd look for me." Javier walked out, my Dad reluctantly following.

"Thank you!" Abigail yelled out. Making up my mind, I ran out, grabbing my extra coat. It's hella-cold out.

"Dad! Javier, wait!" I stopped as they were mounted on Boaz and Splash, the paint he got from the house the O'driscolls took over. I look Black Rose's reins and said, in a not-changing-my-mind-attitude. "I'm coming with you."

"No!" Dad told me, not hearing it.

"Absolutely not!" Javier agreed, turning Boaz to face me.

"Look, I'm smart, I know how to track, how to use a bow and to hunt. I'm your best bet. Since Uncle Charles can't come, I'm your only option. Take it or be sorry." I warned them, the two exchanged glances Javier shrugged, and my Dad sighed.

"Fine, but you're riding between us!"

"Hey, at least I'm going!" I exclaimed, getting on Black Rose.

"This way. Last I know, John was headed up the river." Javier took the lead,

"For all we know, he kept riding north and never looked back." Dad shook his head, remembering when Uncle John left a few years back.

"He wouldn't leave. Not like that." Javier defended him; Dad sighed in disagreement.

"Wouldn't be the first time." He told Javier who was silent after that.

After awhile of riding, I saw some smoke in the sky, presumably coming for a fire. I got Javier's attention and pointed towards the smoke.

"Look!" Javier saw it and nodded.

"Let's take a look!"

"Let's hope it ain't more of those O'Driscoll boys."

"Well," We stopped at a small camp, Javier got off Boaz, inspecting the fire. "it seems somebody left. Recently. And… That way." Javier pointed upwards, towards the mountain top. Greeat. "There' some tracks leading to the river. Let's cross here." Javier urged Boaz further and the stallion trotted across the river, no hesitation.

"You think it's John?"

"You tell me. These are horse tracks for sure, but could be anyone. Lets just see where they lead."

"So you were there, Javier. What really happened on that boat?"

My eyes were on Javier at that moment. I wasn't on the boat when it happened. I didn't know how the game was played or the trade that Dutch made. I just know I wasn't on the boat when it happened.

"We had the money, it seemed fine. Then suddenly, they were everywhere."

"Bounty hunters?"

"Pinkertons. It was crazy, raining bullets."

I kinda just zoned out of the conversation at this point, not really paying attention. My thoughts were on how we were going to survive. We're down four people. Jenny, Mac, Davey and Uncle Sean. We might never see them again…

And Mrs. Adler, Sadie Adler. She came back to camp with Pawpaw, Dad and Micah last night. She lost her husband, by the hands of Odriscoll's. Damn them. They don't have heart, nor a family. Maybe I should feel sorry for them, at least some of them. Colom forces people to do things he wants. Its either ride or die, so some are probably forced into that. I can only imagine…

"Hey look! Over there, you see that?" Javier's voice broke me from my thoughts as we cantered along the pass. Black Rose reared when we got near. No…. Captain. John's horse. He was dead. I lowered my head in respect. Another horse, gone.

"John was riding that horse when we left Blackwater," Javier pulled out his gun. "let's see if he can hear us." He fired his gun twice, I shook off the sound it made, I then heard someone yelling.

"Hey! Over here!"

That has to be Uncle John!

"It's coming from that way, come on!" Javier exclaimed, pushing Boaz on, I did then same to Black Rose and Dad to Splash.

"I don't think we can go much further on the horses; we'll have to walk from here." I grabbed my shotgun from Black Rose's saddlebag, just in case. You never know.

We headed down a steep mountain, packed with fresh snow, so it was hard to keep our step.

"You shoah about this?" Dad asked, unsure.

"Over here!" Uncle John's voice called out and I smirked.

"That answer your question?"

"Don't be a smartass, Katherine." Dad told me and I rolled my eyes, but kept my mouth shut.

We continued on until we wound up in a half-cave. I shivered, it's too damn cold!

"You okay?" Javier asks us and I scoffed.

"This weather is shit!" I commented, not happy with the weather conditions.

"Here, take a drink of this." He handed Dad and I a thing of alcohol. Dad let me take it first then he took a swig. Better than nothing, I suppose.

"Thanks, Javi." I told him and he smiled.

"No problem, mi amor. Now, let's go. I'm not designed for this snow." I'm slow on spanish, but I have no idea what mu amor means. I guess I'll find out eventually.

"John, where are you?"

"Marston! John Marston!"

"Here Johnny, Johnny. I got a treat for you! Uncle Johnny…." Javier and Dad slowly looked at me with a 'what the fuck' look on their faces.

"Kat, he's not a dog." Javier told me, and I smiled, hands behind my back.

"I knew that." I told him and he shook his head and turned around. But I knew he smiled.

"I'm here! Out on the ledge!"

"That's John! We're coming!"

The three of us ran out towards the ledge, and I leaned down towards him, a smirk on my face.

"You come here often?"

"Shut up, Katherine!"

I got a good look at him; he had a huge ass scratch on his face. From a wild animal, probably wolves.

"That's a pretty good scratch you got there." Dad commented, Uncle John looked up at him and sighed.

"Never thought I'd say this, but…. It's good to see you Arthur Morgan." John commented and I smiled. Dad and Uncle John have had….. Hiccups in the past. John will make it up to Dad one day.

Dad jumped down carefully to help him and sighed.

"You don't look so good."

"I don't feel too good neither."

Dad litirilly picked him up and handed him to Javier, I helped him pull him up.

"I'm freezing!"

"Don't die just yet, cowboy." Dad commented and I lightly smack him.

"Come on. Let's get back to camp before we all freeze our asses off." I turned back to John. "And get your wound treated."

"Yes mother." He mocked and I rolled my eyes, taking the lead.

"Come on, compadre." Javier commented, following me.

"No way we can go back the way we came. It's too dangerous. Let's try another way." I told the men, who listened to me. they don't mess with me. if I say something, they'll listen. Unless you want to get punched in the face.

"I told Dutch you weren't the right man for this." Dad commented and I sighed, shaking my head. Can't he torture him when we get back?

I tensed up as I felt someone's presence. I looked onward and gasped. Wolves.

A pack of them.

"Shit!" I yelled, grabbing my shotgun.

"Javier, you get John to the horses! Kat and I will handle this." Dad commented, handing John to Javier. "You ready for this, darlin'?"

"Just like old times." I responded, shooting a wolf in the head, as Dad did the same. We both shot about three each when we joined Javier. Black Rose and Splash were freaking out, but we calmed them enough.

"Come on! Let's ride!" I exclaimed, kicking Rose with my legs. "Hei-yah!"

We galloped through the snow, rushing past trees covered in snow careful not to trip on the fresh snow. I heard barking and looked back, I gasped. More of them. I let go on the reins, knowing Black Rose would take the lead, and shot two of them.

"Damn those bastard dogs!" I screamed, huffing in annoyance.

"Jesus!" John exclaimed, I agreed with him. Goddamn wolves.

"You'll be okay, Uncle John. We'll be home soon." I told him and he sighed.

"I sure hope so."

"We're going to have to come up with a better story for that scar." Dad commented.

"So, freezing, bleeding, starving, near getting damn eaten to death ain't good enough for you!?" John exclaimed and I scoffed.

I looked and saw the buildings. We're almost there. We rode into camp and Javier called for someone to help him get John off Boaz.

I jumped down from Black Rose and hitched her up. Gave her a sugar cube I had hidden in my pocket.

"You did good, girl." I praised her. I saw Abigail, she thanked Dad and Javier. I smiled. Javier doesn't get a lot of reconsion, so there was that. I'm glad he got some.

Javier walked over to me, hitching Boaz beside Black Rose.

"So, that we crazy huh?" He questioned and I chuckled.

"Yeah, luckily we weren't killed." I replied, a smile on my face.

"Yeah. That wouldn't be good." He smiled, and I slightly blushed.

"Do-Do you wanna go inside where it's warm?" He asked and I nodded, putting my hands in my pockets.

"Sure." I said, walking beside him, and he put his arm around me. that may have been a small gesture, and I was fine on the outside. But on the inside? I was freaking out!

Oh. My. God.

Javier's not exactly open, but he's completely open with me. He's content, relaxed. He knows how to get through me and I him. I just wish that things were different.

[clairekatswritingcorner]

Where Do We Go From Here?

Word Count: 2,104

Summary: Alexys is the only one who believes in him, and part of that is only because she believes in herself. Despite the warning signs, she refuses to accept that there isn’t something redeemable in the alien overlord that was once a formidable enemy to she and her crew. Can her hope prevail over his malevolence?

*Author’s Note*: Another commission for @bad-blue-moon-rising, this time featuring her bad timeline canon AU for her selfship with Ug! Just by that description you should expect that it’s sad, and if you don’t, I’m telling you that it’s tragic and makes my heart hurt jfielshge BUT never fear, somewhere in there a happy ending can still be seen. I hope you enjoy!

A few weeks had passed since they’d managed to put the chaos to rest, but things were still pretty tense. Alexys was the one who shouldered the brunt of the burden, considering the integral role she’d played in creating this situation in the first place. Thanks to her, the fallout had caused less damage than expected, which was a relief no one took for granted. But she’d also convinced the crew to allow her to bring the TerraCor head back with them, alive and in one piece. Not everyone was keen on the idea from the beginning, and it had taken all of Alexys’s skill and persuasive power to convince them that this decision wouldn’t end up coming back to bite them. Their circumstances already couldn’t get much worse, which was probably why the team ended up caving to her proposition with minimal fuss.

Part of her was still in denial about the fact that she’d fought for such a cause at all. She had every right to be just as bitter as everyone else, to take her frustrations out on the man at the root of the nightmare they’d just barely managed to survive. He was ruthless and stubborn and unappealing…well, that last point was a little bit debatable in her eyes. Eyes whose opinion she wished she could have ignored, that she regretted letting sway her feelings in the first place. The man they’d captured and taken into their care was stoic and calculating and harsh, but Alexys was still able to see something more in him. She wasn’t entirely sure what that “more” happened to be yet, but she’d already decided that such information wasn’t essential for her to come to a conclusion.

It should have been, though. She should have used her head, listened to the others, taken their advice. She should have seen what they did, followed the thoughts and feelings they exhibited that were rationally guarded and judgmental. This alien tyrant didn’t deserve a second chance, didn’t deserve an opportunity to be rehabilitated, if such a thing was even possible. Something in Alexys desperately wanted to discover that it was, that she would be able to pull it off. She didn’t know the first thing about reforming someone’s bad habits, especially ones that were as nasty as his. Stampeding through the star systems and imposing his will on any and all that stood in his path. All he cared about was the wellbeing of his business—the entity, not the people.

He’d cost the crew members more than they cared to remember, but also what they swore they’d never forget. They couldn’t afford to, because they felt it was necessary to cling to the blame and rage that they’d cultivated towards this man who had become their natural enemy. So much conflict and confusion and pain…he’d instigated all of it, and yet Alexys wanted to keep him like a pet. She wanted to nurture him and help him see the error of his ways. The rest of the crew figured that receiving just punishment would be adequate enough to teach him a lesson, but the girl was insistent on not treating him with violence. To her, yielding to the encouragement of such malicious spite would only end up making them as bad as him.

They had a lot more to deal with upon their return to Earth than just the problems they brought back with them. That was another reason everyone had reluctantly deigned to agree with Alexys, because they didn’t have the energy or the focus to try to argue with her, knowing that in the end they still wouldn’t be able to change her mind. She was firm in her beliefs, and if she really wanted to be the one responsible for babysitting the heathen that’d threatened their lives, then what was the point of trying to stop her?

Well, it was the principle of the thing, really…none of them wanted to be forced to see the face of the man that’d caused them so much grief ever again, who had stolen so much from them, especially in Ethan’s case. Despite the close relationship he and Alexys shared, she wasn’t going to let it alter her conviction. Unfortunately, as a result, it seemed a rift had formed between them. Ethan rightfully felt betrayed, while Alexys felt guilty and confused about whether or not she’d actually done the right thing. She didn’t like knowing she’d hurt her friend, the boy who felt like family to her. He was still family in her eyes, but she wasn’t sure if he saw her that way anymore. As depressing as it was, they’d all lost someone, and if she could move past it and end up helping the culprit improve his ways and atone accordingly, then the extra suffering she was currently enduring would be worth it.

On the other hand, if he truly did end up changing his ways, Alexys wasn’t sure what she’d do. What could she do with someone like him, an alien with a merciless disregard for anything that didn’t suit him or his goals? He’d been somewhat cooperative with her so far, which was a good sign, but there was always a hint of caution in the back of her mind that was ready to pounce the moment something started to go wrong. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to fight or detain him on her own, which was an objective truth due to his strength. She’d seen what he could do with and without a weapon, and she was confident he’d be more than formidable in defending himself against even a group of trained athletes or soldiers. In a way, she supposed he could be seen as a soldier for his own cause. But he was going to have to let it rest, because that ship had sailed for him. Here on Earth, she was going to do whatever it took to impress the reality of his situation upon him.

They were sitting across from one another in the living room, her leaning against the armrest of her chair while he sat tied up in his own. A couple of her friends had made sure to tie him up tightly, and maybe even a little painfully. The alien didn’t mind, and for now neither did Alexys. His comfort wasn’t what was important, but his comprehension, his understanding. If she could get him to see things the way she and the rest of her friends did, maybe she’d have a better shot at convincing him why he needed to change. Whether he thought he’d done anything wrong or not, she was sure he had to have some sense of morals crammed in a dark corner of his subconscious, just waiting to be dusted off and put to good use again…if he’d ever even used them before, that is.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare at me all day?” His tone was thick with the implication that she was the one offending him. With a defiant huff she crossed her arms and settled back in her chair. “If I knew this is what I had to look forward to when I was brought to this bore of a planet, I would have put more effort into my escape.”

A bout of incredulous laughter burst forth from Alexys’s mouth. “Oh please. As if you have the means to try to escape now. How long are you going to keep this pompous leader complex up, anyway? Because I promise no one’s buying it anymore.”

“It’s not an act, it’s simply who I am,” he replied with a sneer, and Alexys shrugged.

“Well, you’re going to have to get over that eventually. Because no matter how much you want to be, that’s not who you are anymore. The people you controlled, the power you had, it’s all gone. Dust in the wind, never coming back. So, if you’re still interested in having some kind of meaningful future, you’ll stop being so arrogant and at least try to listen to what I have to say. What I’ve been saying for the past couple of weeks. I’m honestly getting tired of having to repeat myself.”

“Then you could just give up,” he challenged with a smirk, and Alexys was just a few seconds away from lunging over the table and punching him.

Instead, she stood up and made her way around the table in a much more civil, sensible manner. She leaned in close to his face, examining it for any trace of something salvageable she could work with. It was pretty hard, almost impossible, and the girl was starting to think maybe he was right. So much time and energy wasted on a lost cause, someone whose viewpoint wasn’t going to be influenced or budged no matter what she tried. But she couldn’t give up, not yet, maybe not ever. She’d vowed to make bringing this man back with them worth it, to have something to show after how hard she’d fought to make it happen. It was like they were caught up in an endless game, and somehow, he was playing it better than her without even knowing the rules. She wasn’t going to let him make her give in, though. If she ended up calling off this little arrangement, it would have to be on her terms.

He tried to shuffle away as she approached, but due to his restraints his movement was impaired to the point of immobility. He gritted his teeth in dissatisfaction, trying to overcome the urge to turn and look at her. There was something wrong with him every time he saw her face, something distracting and unpleasant. And the one thing that made it so unpleasant to him was that deep down…it actually wasn’t unpleasant. It wasn’t something he was trying to feel or think or do, but it seemed his mind and emotions had other plans, and they were running wild inside him with reckless abandon. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if such things persisted…he wasn’t sure what he could do about them as they stood now.

What happened next startled them both beyond belief. Without warning or even really meaning to, Alexys reached out and ruffled his hair. Usually smooth and slicked down, she’d done away with any and all remnants of the utilitarian style. Now his hair was sticking up in all directions, naturally fluffy, curly, and voluminous. There were lingering traces of whatever product he’d used on it here and there, but for the most part she’d rubbed it all out. Or at least, she’d given his hair the opportunity to return to its original state as opposed to being forced into boring flatness by his hideous air gel.

“What in the—what are you doing?” he was simultaneously annoyed and astonished, and he also wasn’t sure which reaction was more potent. “Don’t touch me, what were you thinking?”

“I like it.”

That simple phrase shut him up in a heartbeat. He looked at her out of reflex, and the moment his eyes fell upon her face, he swore his heart stopped completely. She was looking at him with such affection, such tenderness…the softest expression he’d ever seen anyone make in the entire universe. No, those unwanted feelings couldn’t be coming back, she couldn’t be doing this to him…but she was. He was helpless to her charm, a charm that she didn’t even know she possessed, and that she probably would have denied if someone tried pointing it out to her. But it was this charm that kept him here, convinced him to be as accommodating as his pride could tolerate. Every time she used it on him, he felt another piece of his resolve being chipped away, making room for the feelings that seemed to never stop expanding deep within him.

“So, Counselor—” The way she said his title made him shiver. His real name was Ug, the name he’d been christened with at birth. He preferred to be known by his official title, Counselor Tetra, head of the recently disbanded TerraCor. A name that had once struck fear and respect into the hearts of anyone who heard it. He didn’t plan on giving into his captors easily, granting them access to information as personal as his true identity, but even his skepticism was getting difficult to cling to. When she said it, or really anything addressing him, all he could think about was how much he wanted her to do it again. “Where do we go from here?”

[thecharmingknightemma]

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basic information

Written since s2 of ouat with thecharmingprincessemma and thewhiteknightprincess urls. Big reminder that if your character is personally involved in her backstory, I will happily change things so they are free to interact and not forced to follow my headcanons.  Verses at the bottom.

In this page you'll find: -short version of her backstory -long version of her backstory -heads up -verses involving the Enchanted Forest

FULL NAME: Emma of the White Kingdom. (Known also as Swan Princess, Swan, Emma, Em) AGE: younger than 28 by default if she's not gone 'dark' GENDER: cis female ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION: straight LANGUAGES: most of those spoken in the nearby kingdoms and realms, some ancient ones as well. But not fluent.   MENTAL ILLNESSES: depression when younger (until she turns 28 and we go to the next phase of her life, in which she has that and PTSD, panic attacks, and anger issues).

SHORT VERSION OF HER BACKSTORY

For people who won't read a longer one, but there is more to read after the long version, and keep in mind that this is just a summary: super happy princess and knight of the White Kingdom, can be found everywhere doing pretty much anything whether appropriate or not, hopeful, stubborn, chatty, blunt, overprotective, good listener but can be petty, loves dances and ballgowns as much as armors and swords. Peak Chaotic Dumbass always ready to go get in trouble. Very affectionate. She will be very appreciative of everyone until proven wrong. Sometimes she sees the world in many shades of grey, other times it's black and white and she will kill if she believes it necessary. Always working when home and bad at letting people help her, when outside she's a loud and enthusiastic (and not so graceful) knight who may not make the best decisions. Traumatized in her love life (toxic manipulative boyfriend Arian who was with her to prove he could tame her and broke her heart), she lost hope about finding her own love and plans an arranged marriage for herself, believing most of her life will stop once she's married and that she'll spend the rest of her life in the castle, but trying to make the best of it for her people. An adventurer. She convinced she's too weak to handle true pain because of the 'melancholy' that hit her after Arian but the depression actually came from her heart remembering she was meant to be pregnant in her original (canon) timeline.

Will really appreciate good looking men as well and flirt, doesn't mean she expects anything to happen, but she does have one night stands and keeps in touch in a friendly way sometimes, just runs away from love.

The future she was meant to have (the canon tvshow) was changed and never happened because of canon Rumplestiltskin not drinking a potion to forget what he learned about the future so he could change it, but she feels the absence of a son without knowing she was meant to have him and has no idea she has magic; the fairies, trying to help her, gave her teas that are memory potions to suppress all that pain and memories and to avoid the rise of another evil queen.

When she'll turn 28, the time when she was meant to be the Savior, she'll remember and her mind will shatter due to potions and too many fake memories in her alternate realities. She'll be also captured by clerics and tortured to try to get rid of her powers. Her mind will be filled with dark magic in an attempt to keep her memories together, and her own white magic can hurt it, there are different lives constantly fighting in her head and more than that the agony of having lost Henry, her son, and that entire destiny, making her turn against everyone who had a part in it - and pretend to not love anyone else anymore so that the people she cares for won't be used against her.

LONG BACKSTORY

AU Where the curse didn’t happen because canon Rumplestiltskin didn’t drink the potion to forget what Emma Swan told him about Neal dying, and changed his future. He created a parallel universe where Regina was defeated and cast away (with his help, because he found out Belle was alive and trapped by the queen, and he wanted revenge). 

In the Enchanted Forest, Emma grew up with her parents, and with Pinocchio and Alexandra at her side, a happy, adventurous child; around age fifteen, when so often spending time in town, she was courted by the son of the baker, Arian, who had a bet going with his friends: he'd be able to tame the wild princess. After a year of being together, the guilt of having made the princess, who had turned out to be so nice (and that he had manipulated into becoming as ladylike and gentle as he wanted), fall in love with him pushed him to confess the truth.

Emma's heart was broken: she lied to everyone about the reason of the breakup, told everyone he had realized he didn't love her and that was all, and spent days feeling humiliated, betrayed and hurt, until one day she met Grace, the Hatter's daughter, and ran away with her to go on an adventure and forget. She came back days later, knowing her parents and friends must be dying of worry, and tried to make up for it, to act normal, but she wasn't so successful. Months later she started feeling even more miserable right when she should have been pregnant in a world without magic. She couldn't remember a life that she didn't live but her heart was hurting, not forgetting a child that should have been there, a consequence of changing the future.

She began to feel a new odd emptiness that she couldn’t explain, knowing there was something or someone that she missed, until one day when Henry was supposed to be born she felt the very real physical pain from it and thought she might be dying or going insane; that was the last push for her to ask the Blue Fairy for help and start fighting again, wanting to be happy again both for herself and her loved ones, receiving a magical tea that was meant tot help and that suppressed her memories. She stopped believing she'd find love, but found joy in helping others, in adventures, in mixing her passion for duels and her silliness to the love for dances and clothes and food.

Blue knew part of what she had lost, and could feel that in the future they were all at risk of getting a new, terrible villain, so she was trying to save Emma and the kingdom.

Sadly, her attempts were not meant to work.

Emma didn't tell anyone else about her pains and nightmares (except for Grace who found out on her own) and is still traveling, enjoying her freedom and sure that her life the way she likes it will end once she'll have to take the crown and be trapped in her castle; she also wants to prove herself as a hero, a warrior like her parents, which is why it's easy to find her fighting beasts or exploring dangerous places, but also befriending everyone she meets and trying to help them, as 'tactful' and hopeful as her father and as trusting and impulsive as her mother. She loves fun, visits so often Hansel and Gretel's tavern that her townpeople just expect her there at this point, gets in danger whenever she can take a break from her duties, still chased by the rebels who don't want her parents to rule or are on the side of the Evil Queen, and of course the men under old King George's control, who never accepted the loss of his real son.

On her twenty-eight birthday in this world she will remember everything, and between the knowledge of the life she was meant to have, the loss of a true love who was never born, the teas given her to suppress memories, and her own magic, and torture from clerics to get rid of her witch said, Emma will break and temporarily retreat to find a way to control her magic, to make sure her memories won't go away again, and to plan revenge on anyone responsible for it. She'll pretend to be fully evil and not care about anyone anymore after her change so that they won't be targeted by the enemies she's making (Rumplestiltskin, the fairies, even Cora), which is easier to do when looking at her family makes her only remember the things she's lost, and feel the guilt because she was beloved and now she can't be with them anymore.

Cold skin, dark magic trying to keep her mind together and making it painful to use white magic, she'll be hiding in the summer palace and planning revenge, but the role of villain will never suit her too well. (She doesn't know, but Henry's spirit lives in Neverland and can be brought back.)

Note: she does plan to take the dark curse from Rumplestiltskin if possible and finally die and reunite with Henry, taking it with Henry. Suicidal ideation is therefore present, as well as depression and PTSD from torture and more. I can get around it if needed because it's a trigger to you, although when it comes to wanting to die it's not exactly a constant theme (Emma fighting depression and mood swings is, however.) You can find a few more details here.

A HEADS UP ABOUT THE CHARACTER

While she does work hard so that one day she’ll be able to reign and make her people happy (which involves knowing laws and working with them to better people’s lives, take care of the kingdom’s resources, taxes and so on) she’s not the best diplomat yet, and her recklessness and bluntness, even if she tries to ‘fix it’, plus her inappropriate behaviors, have created friction between her and many other royals from other kingdoms. 

There has been one occasion in which she went to fight a dragon without proper armor because she forgot it, too in a rush to get back to a town where some delicious pies were on sale. She almost died, predictably, and to this day Pinocchio and Grace will bring up this story to try to slow down whatever new quest she has in mind. Everything can be made into a quest.

Animals come to her when she sings (especially those from the Enchanted Forest).

She can tell when people are lying, though not always, depending on how emotional she is.

She has a black horse that she called Apple - because at first he was insufferable and nobody could stand his temper. Now he is still insufferable and scary, but at least not to her. He's a giant horse and had potentially some magical ancestor but it's hard to tell.

Enchanted Forest verses

princess v. stealing beans: verse where she either willingly crossed a portal open by a bean or feel through one and ended up in another world - for crossovers in which she's still princess Emma. 

v. royal cinnamon: anything set from her birth until Arian breaks up with her a few months after turning sixteen. Emma is more inexperienced, hasn’t traveled much yet, though she does train to be a knight. At fifteen, after the courting started, she dropped some of her tomboy attitude to be more ladylike, the way Arian was manipulating her to be, and she found out that she liked that too. Balls, ballgowns, tea parties and everything that she had rejected as a child. 

v. melancholy: set after the break up and finding out it was all for a bet Arian made with friends (being able to tame the wild princess). In the following months she had to recover from heartbreak; she met Grace the day after the breakup and joined her on an adventure, running away for a few days but regretting it because of the pain caused to her family. She did like the taste of adventure and promised herself to travel more. However that’s when the ‘no Henry’ sickness started, hitting her body and mind and leaving her hopeless and barely able to interact with friends for a year until she slowly began to heal because of Blue’s teas. She believes the 'melancholy' was due to the break up and that she's too weak to handle love, and that the pains that sometimes she still feels are due to stress. 

v. born to be wild: anything set after she starts travelling and seeing the world, around eighteen, and before her twenty-eight birthday. Emma is balancing duties of a princess who one day wants to rule and pleasures of a knight who enjoys life fully. She also counts down to the day when she knows she’ll have to force herself to marry someone for the good of the kingdom. 

potential verse that doesn’t happen in every timeline - v. white witch: Emma learns she has magic and runs away from the castle, knowing her people will reject another ‘witch’ in charge, hiding and trying to use her magic to save people without getting too exposed.

 v. dark witch: anything set after her 28 birthday when she remembers everything and her brain shatters. Memories come and go constantly, her magic is out of control, she wants revenge and Henry back. She’s captured by clerics once, tortured, and after freeing herself she retires to the Summer Palace, with some loyal servants choosing to join her. She acts heartlessly with her old friends and people in general to avoid weakness (though she’s not great at keeping the act when people are in danger) and plots the fairies’ destruction and Rumplestiltskin’s ruin using memories from lives she hasn’t lived. She will join anyone who can get her what she wants. She also used dark magic to stitch her mind back together, reason why when she uses white magic she hurts herself tremendously.

also potential verse -  v. dark one: set after she takes the dagger and becomes Dark One in one way or another (Rumple might or might not be still alive and suffering if she found a way to transfer the darkness to herself). The fairies might or might not have been defeated. She’s more in control of her powers and memories.

v. hope: set after she finds out Henry can be brought back (through Neverland, or the other Authors) and starts travelling to find what she needs for that to happen. She doesn’t publicize her identity to avoid trouble, but also because any enemy who finds out she still cares about something might use it against her.

v. mother and believer: set after Henry is born/brought back to her and Emma has retired, hiding from enemies and raising her son or, in verses where she got Henry back without going through a dark witch stage, is simply keeping him with her at the castle.

v. the Mad Hag: Emma was taken away and locked into a tower by Rumplestiltskin (or someone else, it can be plotted) before her 28th birthday so that she wouldn't be a danger once remembering her other life, her magic also suppressed. When her memories did come back, free to wreck havoc in her mind, Emma remembered the life she was meant to live as Emma Swan, and the cursed life Regina gave her so she could leave with Henry before Pan's curse hit, and her own Enchanted Forest life, and with no magic to help, the pain took over her mind, leaving her in a constant state of confusion, lives and memories overlapping and every now and then allowing her to remember other people the way they were in other lives. Once freed, of course her mind will slowly clear up again, as well as her magic which would be out of control. She's scared and lost, and will have to put back the pieces of the puzzle to understand what happened.

v. mermaid curse: Emma is accidentally cursed to be a mermaid every day and turn back into a woman every night until receiving a kiss of (romantic) true love. She has resigned herself to live this way, trying not to swim too far when a mermaid or she'll drown at sunset, and not to deep into the forest or she'll end up trapped on the ground by her own tail. If she didn't believe in finding love as a woman, how can she now? Open of course to all sorts of relationships, not just romantic threads.

v. twelve hours curse: same concept as the mermaid curse, but in this case she can turn into different species: dragon, dog, swan.