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parabcllums · 5 years

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⌜ TOM HARDY, CIS MALE, HE / HIM | charlie boy by the lumineers, melancholic, the maudlin ⌟ ⏤ blink and you’ll miss ADRIAN STEPHANOS TREVOR, the THIRTY SEVEN year old son of DIANA PRINCE & STEVE TREVOR ! they’re an INDEPENDENT JOURNALIST & STARBUCKS BARISTA in town, and i’ve always found them to be pretty RIGHT-MINDED & MUNIFICENT, though i’ve heard that they can also be really IDIOSYNCRATIC & SELF DESTRUCTIVE. i don’t think getting their way is a smart thing to do - everyone knows that their ability is ENHANCED CONDITION. you can check out his stats HERE & his pinterest board HERE.

wasn’t no HARM in him. you’d give him a FLOWER, he’d keep it FOREVER.

SECTION ONE OF THREE: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warning for talk of gang activities ( including gbh ), prisons, the army ( including bombs, trauma sustained while serving, consequences - mentally & physically OF serving ), more gang talk… a lot of

ah , here he is . this motherfucker. what a tool.

meet ADRIAN STEPHANOS TREVOR. he’s thirty seven years old, a twin, an older brother, a disappointment son. these days, he works as a starbucks barista and writes just enough articles in a year to be able to continue calling himself an “”independent journalist”” - but once upon a midnight dreary, ya boy was an army brat, and a little more recently, he was a member of one of london’s east end gangs.

diana prince and steve trevor were GOOD PARENTS. they WERE. when steve came back to life, he was DONE with fighting, and diana never could be. they found a middle ground, in their happiness, with steve staying in london where he ultimately raised the kids they had together, and diana continuing her hero work - the official term “co parenting”, though at times, her absence was felt. but not enough to be an excuse. adrian never doubted for one moment of his life that he was LOVED, and that his parents were ALWAYS going to be there for him. the path that adrian ultimately went down is thanks to nothing more than the environment that he grew up in, and the inherited need to DO RIGHT by the people he cared about.

it wasn’t hard for him to fall in with the wrong crowd of people, when he was younger. the east end has always been home to a whole variety of types, but if you were the sort of teen that adrian was - hot headed, quicker to throw a punch than he was talk it out, pretty bright, but never willing to apply himself - you were destined to draw the WRONG sort of attention. he was rebelling, for no particular reason, and in afterschool detention, he met the people that would shape his early life. they weren’t the gang. they liked to THINK of themselves as such, but they were just kids playing pretend - they walked the walk and they talked big but they weren’t QUITE there, but there enough that adrian got himself in to quite a bit of trouble.

he thought the world of them. this small squad of kids all around his age became like FAMILY, and he was willing to do anything, or go anywhere, if it meant keeping them in his eyes on them and maybe, keeping them out of trouble. to this day, he’ll say that’s how it started - he just wanted to keep his FRIENDS out of trouble. they were already in so much of it. how that led to destruction of property, petty vandalism, THE GREVIOUS BODILY HARM THAT GOT THEM ALL ARRESTED, no one really knows. likewise, to this day, no one from that gang of schoolkids has ever broken their silence on who exactly did the DAMAGE to that guy that pressed charges after being beaten half to death. it had to be one of them, but the police thought it was all of ‘em. when no one would reveal the truth, adrian and his “friends” all faced the same punishment. TWO YEARS, in her majesty’s prison woodhill - a young offenders institution willing to accept kids younger than eighteen, where adrian was to spend the latter half of his fifteenth year, his full sixteenth, and three months of his seventeenth.

loyalty to his troubled friends, all the better off for being locked behind bars, had gotten adrian stuck in the same situation. but loyalty, he learned in his time at woodhill, was currency. it was the difference between life or death.

it made sense, then - at least in HIS EYES - to join the british army. before his fall from grace, he had been seriously discussing the army cadets with steve. he’d kept in shape, had learnt some control over himself, and felt like that was where he BELONGED, upon release. before he knew it, he was EIGHTEEN years old and shipping out - and maybe it’s not right to say, but the army was probably the best place for him. for the next eight years, he did tours on and off, spending minimal time back home. sometimes, the only reason he even came back was for theora. and it was GOOD for him. it kept him off the streets. it kept him away from his old friends, and kept him from making new, worse ones. he had the routine that the young offenders institution had taught him. he had a place. a role. a reason, to keep getting up. by the time he was twenty seven, he was on the fast track to being someone BETTER -

his career came to a sudden end when the jeep that he and his team were driving in ran over a mine. he was one of an unlucky few - without his enhanced condition, he would have joined the rest in the AFTERLIFE. HE SURVIVED, but muscle and nerve damage meant that he lost the full use of his right leg, and maybe they would have given him a chance to try and improve, but no doctor was going to clear him for service again, thanks to the additional traumatic brain injury sustained. he was in a coma for a week. when he woke up… his general cognitive function was sure never to return to where it once was. he IMPROVED. he worked on it, in vain, hoping that he could still go back. but his memory was always going to be impaired. his brain was always going to be shot.

he was honorably discharged and he returned to the east end, a self professed failure.it only got worse. he wasn’t getting out of the house. he wasn’t taking visitors. diana and steve, theora, they could only do so much - and when he started to go down to the local, again, they thought that it was GOOD, that he was starting to come back to himself a bit. the truth was, he was back in contact with old friends. he was rubbing shoulders with the WRONG sort of people. he was getting himself INTO TROUBLE, again - putting himself into a difficult position of starting down the same path that had landed him in the youth institute, years before.

and then he got MARRIED. he never even told his mother. he had never thought of this particular old friend in that way until he DID, and he needed SOMEONE - ANYONE, back then, to latch onto. looking back, it was unfair. she was in a position of having to care for him, and deal with his WORST moods, which no one should have been in. but they convinced themselves it was love. they convinced themselves, in spite of the arguing, that they BELONGED together - right up until they couldn’t DO it anymore.

he self medicated, after. he stopped trying to get BETTER. and he WALLOWED. the only person he truly had anymore, he felt, was his TWIN - but it was UNFAIR to rely on them, so much. adrian’s darkest impulses at this point in his life were almost impossible not to listen to, and in a way, he got LUCKY.

a light at the end of the tunnel appeared, when the news came of the BABY. HIS. the product of a brief liaison with a sharp tongued lady that had swept him off HIS feet - he was an AFTERTHOUGHT, the text from a forgotten number that told him about their SON told him that much. but he would have done more, if he’d known. he told himself that, over and over, as he tried to work out what to do - and after a lot of uhmng and ahing, he decided that the RIGHT thing to do, the ONLY thing, was to leave for america hot on her heels. it wasn’t IDEAL. but being in a new country, trying to put himself onto some sort of straight and narrow so that he could BE a dad… it gave him hope that at the end of the day, maybe he could dig himself out of the mess that he had made out of his life.

he got a job. he’d already started working as an independent journalist in england, another way to pay the bills, but he got another - and he got CLEAN. no more drugs, even if he was still as much of an alcoholic as ever. he tried to be better, for his kid, the ACCIDENT that he LOVED, before he even met him - and because if he could do it, if he could make himself better, then maybe he could still get out. maybe he could create a safety net to fall into, if he finally cut ties.

SECTION TWO OF THREE: HEADCANONS

how to tell that underneath all his bad decisions he’s still actually a GOOD guy? his love of dogs. that’s it. he’s had a cool dozen over his entire life, but right now, he has THREE. paddy, his nine year old staffie x, dingle, his five year old irish wolfhound, and nessie, his six month old aussiedoodle. they’re all rescues, and they’re all.. so loved. he’s lowkey using them as therapy dogs without any sort of official therapy dog training cos why the fuck not.

he can’t concentrate as well as he used to be able to. he struggles to see how some actions he makes will have consequences. he speaks too low. he doesn’t always understand what’s being said to him, or what he’s saying. he doesn’t perceive things the same anymore, like certain tastes. he doesn’t catch the gist of certain patterns and things and struggles to interpret certain data correctly, sometimes. he doesn’t have great depth perception. he’s more susceptible to bouts of severe depression and irritability, he suffers from a severe sleep disorder, he’s not great with loud noises, he still walks with a incredibly pronounced limp, and he suffers chronic pain. he didn’t leave the army unscathed.

i cant believe thats all i got but its all i got.

SECTION THREE OF THREE: WANTED CONNECTIONS

his older sib ! his younger one ! the mother of his child ! all good connects !

friends from london.

friends he’s made since moving here.

someone please fucking hire him he’s a good gd bartender i dont even rmbr why i made him a barista but someone ,,pls,, get him out of that gd job

also SOMEONE please give his ass a platform… read his writing..he’s good…..hire him

ENEMIES ! from anywhere. for any reason. mayb they fought once. maybe he wrote the wrong name on their starbucks cup. go wild , the world is your oyster

justice league kids … literally any kids he could have grown up w like i dont think he was ALWAYS in england so … give him those #connections

gang connections ! if ur character is in a us based gang its always a possibility that they have a sort of .. brotherhood.. whatever u call that with the east end one that adrian is stuck in , so , hmu

also , army ppl. they could have served together. maybe.

army ppl he def didnt serve with but who he.. is..jealous of

or who he wants to help if theyve got it #rough cos yeah he’s been there

lit just…….plot..w.him

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * and your life is a long line of ‘fine’ ― biography. ⌟ / trevor.

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