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kalevalakryze · 7 months

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I Don't Need A Jedi, I Need You

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Ahsoka Pairings: Shin Hati/ Sabine Wren, Characters: Shin Hati, Sabine Wren, Ahsoka Tano, Baylan Skoll Warnings: Abandonment, Revenge, Rage, Violence, The Dark Side Of The Force, Healing, Force Bond, Blood and Violence Notes: For Whumptober Day 10 This is going to be small, but def something I plan on delving into more Prompt: No. 10: “You said you'd never leave.” Word Count: 3,174 AO3 Link: Here!

They found him three weeks after Shin had been cleared to get up and start moving. Three weeks after she started the journey of rebuilding muscle and herself. Ahsoka and Sabine left her alone, for the most part. The Togruta’s cloak hadn’t left Shin’s shoulders since that first night, waking with it draped around her shoulders.

Her tunic had been ruined with blood and holes that even she could not repair, so the Jedi’s cloak became all she had to cover her modesty, though Sabine had helped her repair the straps of her bra. The pants she’d been given upon her reluctant rescue were tied to her waist, double knotted to prevent the article from sliding off. Her pauldrons not longer shined where they sat strapped to her shoulders beneath the cloak, smeared with blood (an unfortunate amount her own), with a thin layer of ripped fabric separating metal and skin.

Shin’s gloves and pauldrons stopped just before her elbows, bare skin and muscle just barely covered by Ahsoka’s cloak where it sat when her arms were down. Sabine helped give her a proper haircut, though there was nothing that could be done to force the brown from their head, leaving the only blonde in her hair for the frayed Padawan brain that settled over her right collarbone, dirty green beads untouched from where they were intricately woven the last time Baylan had helped them dye their hair.

When they found Baylan, Shin had only found out through Huyang receiving his comm as droid and apprentice worked on fixing her saber, the charge pack wouldn’t hold and the crystal inside was reluctant; like Shin closing herself off from the force and from the kyber had harmed it. Huyang had spent days working with Shin to work with the blade, to reach back into the pool of the force no matter how much it hurt to reconnect.

It had been impossible, up until this point. The blade kept coming out warbly and unstable, before sparking back into its emitter and threatening to spark through the Apprentice’s hands. Huyang hadn’t even had the time to turn towards Shin, to warn that he knew their thoughts, order them to stay behind. She was gone in seconds, leaving only the tail of Ahsoka’s cloak whipping in the wind as she whistled for her Howler.

Shin rode hard and fast across the Peridean wastes. The Nomads that had allied with the ‘Rebels’ had done what Shin’s own bandits could not; They found Baylan Sköll, and she would be damned if she let him get away.

“We need not be at odds.” He was trying to worm his way out of the circle the Nomads had him trapped in, trying to talk his way out in an illusion of peace. Shin slipped from the Howler’s back, boots thudding in the dirt as she breezed closer, shoving past an armored being. Baylan was facing away from her, but she could see the way his shoulders tensed.

“You were supposed to return with the Imperial fleet,” His chin rose, yet he still did not look at her, igniting the anger that sat dormand in her veins.

“I was supposed to die.” They snarled, venom in their tone as their hand wrapped around the hilt of their saber. The crystal resonated with her anger, with the hurt she knew was pouring off in waves, knew her Master could feel it too, the danger of the person he’d created. “I was supposed to die when Thrawn realized you were gone.”

Baylan’s head turned until Shin could see the hard line of his lips. “You turned against me.” They snarled, finger hovering over the ignition of their saber. Anger flooded their mind, they could strike him down right here, prove that they could choose for themselves, choose this desire for revenge over it all.

“Only a Sith deals in these absolutes, Shin. We are not Sith,” He sounded tired, like a father explaining to his child that the park was closed and they could not go play until another day.

“I am what you made me!” When their saber ignited, the orange of her saber was bled out, barely visible behind the tangible reality of the pain Shin had been carrying. “This is the end for you, my Master.”

Near red arced through the air towards Baylan’s head, he’d seemed to be in acceptance of his fate, Shin could finally be free of this pain. She could finally let the past die, she just had to kill it, and maybe then she would be able to breathe again.

A pillar of pink energy stopped her blade, Sabine Wren placing herself between Shin and Baylan, supporting her saber against a beskar gauntlet. “Shin, you need to stop,” The Mandalorian was out of breath, like she’d ran the whole way here, or had worked herself up at the thought of what she knew Shin would do.

“This isn’t you,” Sabine pleaded, trying to get yellowed eyes to look at her, to turn their murderous intent away from the man at her back.

“You don’t know me,” Shin snarled, teeth bared. Her muscles were still weak, arms shaking as she pushed against Sabine’s saber, moving one foot forwards to attempt to bring her down like they had on Lothal.

When the connection broke, Shin sidestepped, avoiding interlocking blades with Sabine again; She wasn’t their objective. If the Mandalorian wanted to stop her, then she would have to take Shin’s like.

Baylan’s gaze was somber, yet he did not probe the bond he once had with the apprentice, did not offer a vocal apology; He felt he knew how this story would play out, that if Shin would commit themselves to killing him, then it was their destiny. “You promised!” Shin hissed, emotion closing at her throat as she swung her blade. Sabine’s use of the force was growing, enough to prevent the blade from doing much else to singe her Master’s robes.

Throwing her saber to the ground, Shin decided she wanted to feel the life leave his body. He abandoned her, Thrawn left her to die, and the Force was nowhere when she needed it most. She would not kill him as his apprentice, but as the daughter he raised, as the bandit and the monster he’d crafted.

Her fist cracked against his jaw with a snap of his head to the side. Her second hit went into the unarmored section of his gut, knuckles cracking over his liver and sending him doubling over. The armor at her knee rang when she brought it up to smash into his chin, his blood flying from his mouth in spittle as teeth cracked under the pressure.

Shin followed him to the ground, knee pressing into his abdomen as her hands secured themselves around his throat. His hands pressed into her wrists, but the armor stopped him from being able to do anything. “You promised me, Master.” A fat tear dropped onto his cheek as Shin’s face reddened. ‘What did I do wrong?”

A large hand settled against Shin’s shoulder as Baylan’s face turned purple. “You need to let him go, Shin,” Ahsoka’s voice washed over her, urging her grip to loosen. Baylan’s breath rushed past his lips in a choked rasp.

“No.” They vehemently declined like a petulant child. She wanted it to stop hurting- she needed it to stop hurting so bad. She could feel the stubble of rough hair against her fingertips in the holes of her gloves, could feel the warmth of his skin like a beacon of his life, life that she needed to take away. “He deserves it,”

“Perhaps,” Ahsoka agreed, kneeling in the dirt beside Shin. “But you don’t want to be the one to do this.” The hand on her shoulder was an anchor, as was the warm thumb that pressed past the thick material of her cloak, rising goosebumps to sweat damp skin. “You don’t know that,” They argued, even as they felt the fight abandon them too. “You can’t know that.”

“But I do, Shin.” Their eyes were still yellow, overpowering the pools of blue and silver, with dark veins spreading across pale skin, but Ahsoka could see that glimmer of hope, that promise that Shin was still good. “You’re in an unimaginable spot right now. And try as I may, I cannot make this decision for you. You have to decide for yourself.”

Ahsoka’s hand begun to raise from her shoulder, willing to leave Baylan’s fate up to the turmoiled blonde. Two hands wrapped around her wrist, keeping her hand in place; the choice was made.

“Come on,” Ahsoka guided them up, off of Baylan, guiding their sorrowed eyes away from his broken face. They turned back at him one last time. “You said you'd never leave.” Sabine was picking their saber from the ground, though instead of offering it back to the Apprentice, the weapon was handed to Ahsoka. Shin did not argue as the Togruta clipped it to her belt; wanted nothing to do with the near red blade, the reminder of how much she was failing in all of her teachings.

Ahsoka walked with Shin all the way to the shuttle, where she dropped bonelessly into a seat in the cockpit, hands in her lap, staring at the flashes of scarred, pale skin that poked through the holes in her gloves. Their fingers clenched and unclenched; Baylan deserved to die, he promised he’d never leave, promised he would always be there, and yet… He left, he left her alone on a planet far from home, on a mission she did not agree with.

Now she was stranded on the graveyard planet, housed by the enemy, and abandoning all of the teachings she had once been so eager to learn..

Ahsoka settled into the seat across from her much more gracefully. Her hand reached out once more to touch the cool skin just above their gauntlet, bringing their focus back up. “You did good, Shin,” Ahsoka praised, fingertips grazing tensing muscle, easing the stiffness.

“I was going to kill him,” They argued, though their voice held no fire, their accent thicker than could translate to basic, words slurring as she reverted to a language that had been dead to her for so long. “I wanted to kill him… I want-”

“But you didn’t, because that isn’t who you are.” “Why is everyone so intent on telling me who I am?” They seethed, leather gloves creaking as their hands flexed in anger.

“Because you need the reminder that you are more than you’re seeing yourself as, right now.” Ahsoka pulled Shin’s saber from her hip, holding it into the chasm between them. Shin stared at the weapon sourly, as if it could be at fault for her pain. “Take your kyber,”

With a sigh, Shin reached for the saber, though it was pulled away before her fingertips could brush cold metal. “With the force, Kurs’kaded.” Sabine spoke up, alerting the Apprentice to her presence, leaning in the open doorway; she hadn’t heard the Mandalorian come in, the force hadn’t given her the brush of whatever it was she’d grown used to with Sabine’s presence.

“I don’t need the force, and I don’t need you.” They snapped, rising to their feet harshly. She turned away from her saber and faced the door, staring past the faded paint on Sabine’s pauldron as they started for the door. “I can’t let you go,” Sabine’s hand reached out, pressing on Shin’s shoulder, barring her from the exit. “Not like this,”

“It’s none of your concern,” Shin had growled, fingers wrapped around Sabine’s elbow, rearing to flip their positions, to fight her way out if not for the burn of muscle, than for the promise if she got too far, they would kill her.

“What if you don’t come back, Shin?” Sabine wasn’t looking at her, golden eyes focused on the ragged scars from the blade that had ripped her open, had brought her to them after months of isolation from everything. This was enough to give Shin pause, to stop pressing against Sabine’s hand, and to watch as The Mandalorian’s hand shook where it parted Ahsoka’s cloak further across her bare abdomen.

Her fingertips were cool against inflamed scar tissue, still in the painful process of healing without the aid of bacta or any real medical supplies over the alcohol created by the Noti to help keep it sterilized. Shin swallowed thick in her throat. She could feel the Togruta’s eyes on her back, but the glide of Sabine’s fingers along her scar and the way the Mandalorian’s hand pressed against the plate of armor over her abdomen, where Shin knew her own scar sat healed under all the layers.

“What if you leave, and we can’t get to you in time?” There was a vulnerability to Sabine’s voice, a hurt that Shin found she did not like being the cause of on her face. “What if you come back wrong?”

“Careful, Mandalorian; Someone might start to think you care.” Their voice was raspy, cracking with unidentified emotion as their hand finally dropped from Sabine’s elbow.

“Seriously?” Sabine scoffed, the jab of her finger into their stomach had them yipping in surprise, stepping back, away from the shock of pain. “All this and you didn’t figure that one out? Are you a di’kut?” The next time Sabine touched her, it was with the palm of her hand into their shoulder, forcing them back into the chair.

Shin’s head turned to pass a helpless look towards the amused Jedi Master as Sabine’s fingers gripped at her jaw, forcing them to look her in the eye. “Of course I fucking care. I’ve cared since you stabbed me, I’ve cared since Seatos, I’ve always fucking cared.”

Shin’s gaze was fixed on Sabine’s narrowed eyes, on the twitch of muscle under the collar of her flight suit, and on the smooth furrow of her brows.

She’s beautiful…

Ahsoka stood and brushed past Sabine; The Apprentice watched in her peripherals as their saber hilt was clasped to Sabine’s belt, before the Jedi was sweeping from the cockpit with the door swooshing shut behind her.

The moment the door shut, Sabine’s lips were pressing against theirs, urging their eyes to close and their hands to move back to the Mandalorian’s elbows as she leaned onto the arm rests of the cockpit’s chair.

Shin’s heart thudded against her chest, with each thump entwined with the glide of Sabine’s tongue across her lips, the anger faded, the hurt eased, finally offering the sought after reprieve from the hurt.

Sabine pulled back, breathing hard as their eyes blinked open. “I care, and I’m not leaving.” She whispered in their shared air, hand raising to brush against their cheekbone before she was leaning back, dropping into the chair Ahsoka had once occupied.

“Now take your saber back; we’ll fix it together,”

Begrudgingly, Shin sighed and raised her hands. Opening back up to the force after months of trying didn’t go as she’d prepared herself. For the first time since Seatos, it felt like coming home again, as she felt the life spark back into her being, reclaiming her space in the cosmic flow of life, interweaving her story back in the threads of the universe. It was overwhelming and it hurt, until she felt the warmth of someone pressing forward with her, someone whose fate was so so intricately woven with her own existence. When silver eyes opened, Shin caught the look of concentration on Sabine’s face, and the crack of a smile on her lips when her eyes opened and caught Shin staring.

It took some work to figure out the flow between them, as Shin’s saber was brought to hover between them, pieces unfolded from each other as they slowly worked to expose the wounded Kyber. She’d bled it a lot, had made her crystal hurt the way Baylan had made her hurt, and it was evident in the darkness and the blood of the force threatening to overshadow the orange, but… it wasn’t too late.

Shin had many dreams healing from her wounds, months back, but in her fever, she could recall the feeling of Ahsoka’s hands brushing through her hair, of delicate fingers smoothing the rough edges of her braid, and the promise of “It’s never too late.” Passed between the silence, a promise that they hadn’t been able to understand.

Now though, with Sabine’s form rising from her seat, Shin watched as the woman’s fingers brushed against her Kyber, the pad of her thumb trailing along the ridge from where she’d snapped it from the peak on Ilum herself. “It’s okay,” Sabine promised, gently; Shin could feel it, could feel her words and her touch as if her and the Kyber were of the same entity, as if, in the red that Sabine was urging away from the crystal, she was easing the darkened blood from her own presence in the force.

Shaking her head, Shin rose, trapping the Kyber between their hands as they interlocked their fingers with Sabine’s. The Mandalorian glanced at her once, before her eyes shut. Her forehead pressed against their joined hands. Shifting their weight between their feet, Shin’s head bowed, fingers squeezing against Sabine’s. “I am one with the force…”

“And the force is with me,”

When they separated, there was no red to be found in the glowing Kyber, a bright, vivid orange, paler than she’d seen but still bearing the unique coloring, floated between them peacefully, held up by the combined force of both apprentice and padawan.

“I know you,” Sabine promised, as they worked to reassemble the saber together. “Forever. You hear me?” She grabbed the saber from its stasis, pressing it into Shin’s waiting palm. “You can stab me, you can call me names, and you can walk away right now, but don’t you dare forget; I know you, and I care.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shin promised, closing the distance and hesitantly moving to rest her forehead against the feisty Mandalorian.

Sabine’s arms circled their neck, noses bumping together as she leaned up on her toes, fingers carding through the short, scruffy hair on the back of their head. “Better… say it again,”

Rolling their eyes, Shin pressed forward to shut her up, pressing their lips together with little fanfare, hands moving to rest on Sabine’s sides, thumb pressing into the space between beskar and flightsuit to brush against the fabric over her scar.

Baylan Skoll would go on to become their prisoner, but Shin would not give him the glory of a reaction, or a response when, the next time they visited, her padawan braid was gone, cut with care by the Togruta who held out her hand in kindness when he had left.

She wasn’t a Jedi and she wasn’t a sith; She was just Shin Hati, and Sabine was just Sabine; together and individually, they were both Enough, and that was good enough.

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hmshermitcraft · 5 months

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Pearl definitely didn’t have a great childhood. Considering the fact her parents abandoned her all alone while she was asleep as a child so she decided to grow up alone so she would never have to suffer the feelings of being abandoned again.Until she of course,met the hermits.It was really just supposed to be a quick exchange but things happen yknow? So she inevitably grew a relationship with all of them.

That wasn’t the bad thing of course,the bad thing is that because of her relationship with them she was obviously terrified to lose them.So in return she wouldn’t sleep.She thought if she did they would leave while she was vulnerable and unaware,just like her parents did.She didn’t think it was a bad idea, she didn’t even think anyone would notice! That was until she started losing balance,she always looked out of it,she wasn’t really talking properly,etc.

The others were obviously worried they couldn’t really find out what was wrong with her until someone caught her up working late at night,probably to distract herself.So one night they went to her base and tried to put her to bed.It ended up being a very emotional but somehow well night.Once she realized they were trying to put her to sleep she tried protesting and it didn’t take long for her to burst into tears.It took a while but calmed down a bit and then told them about what happened when she was younger, and how she was scared she would lose them.

They then all hugged and reassured her that they would never leave her,because she was just as important as everyone else on the server is, even if past experiences made it hard to remember that. They all stayed at her base and played games and watched movies before heading to bed,and when they did head to bed they made sure to be right by Pearl’s side. It took a couple of minutes,but Pearl did eventually fall asleep. And when she woke up for the first time in a while to see them all still being there, she burst into tears again, but this time they were very,very happy ones.

It always felt... Silly to her. She's not the only hermit who's experienced tragedy and trauma in her life, but they've all gotten over it (they haven't, as she eventually realises.)

It was hard to trust them all encouraging her to sleep. Even as hermits fell asleep around her - Bdubs passing out as soon as he hit the pillow, hogging an entire blanket, Impulse with his arm over Pearl and snoring, Mumbo somehow looking perfectly comfortable despite both Grian and Scar on top of him - she felt like it was just a matter of time. She'd close her eyes and they'd all be gone.

She's never been happier to be proven wrong. Not confident enough to go back to sleep, but she can spend the morning watching her sleepy hermits instead.

#hermitshipping #ask #pearl tag #polyhermits #mod 🎀#child abuse tw #abandonment tw

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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aveimperatcr · 2 months

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As this holiday of love comes to a close, the Emperor couldn't help but silently fidget.

... Would he need to return to the Warp to continue his endless battle against the Ruinous Powers? Would he need to return to the dark... alone?

#interred upon the throne in character / ic.#ask to tag tw #abandonment tw

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ninetysomethingsouls · 2 months

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it does not matter

how kindly you treat us

or how welcoming

you try to be

or how many times

you remind us you love us

there will always be a small child

that cries and begs

"please come back

don't leave me alone

i can't do this by myself

please come back and love me"

#abandonment tw #abandonment issues #isolation tw

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maschals · 7 months

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Oct 2 - I'll call out your name but you won't call back

I think I might do some stuff for Whumptober. It's good practice for my inks and it lets me be edgy.

Hope it came out well!

#whumptober 2023 #no.2 #I'll call out your name but you won't call back #lyric #arcane #powder arcane #art #abandonment tw

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stoneinc · 7 months

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* ◟ : 〔 ruth wilson , cis-woman + she / her 〕 claire stone , some say you’re a forty one year old lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both conscientious and emotional , one can’t help but think of you keep me crawling by aurora when you walk by. are you still the ceo of stoneage inc , even with your reputation as the liability ? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and crumbling behind closed doors, intense glares of dissatisfaction and creased silk blouses, although we can’t help but think of jeanine matthews (divergent), rachel duncan (orphan black), and rebecca bunch (crazy ex-girlfriend) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

oh look, it’s me bringing more morally grey female muses with daddy issues (now never to be resolved) and an obscene and overwhelming amount of power....

triggers: mental illness tw, abandonment tw, abuse tw, just very bad parenting in general tw, death tw, mention of pregnancy tw, ivf tw,

claire, the first and only (known) child of multi-billionaire damon stone. born somewhere in the south of england, conceived in a ‘dingey bar’/a quaint countryside public house, and not a particularly wanted asset by her parents. her parents had been allies that supported each other’s work and had similar ideas about the future, they got on but were hardly romantic. perhaps their sexual affair had been because of loneliness or driven by their own narcissistic tendencies. both brilliant minds in their own right, they never really stopped working or striving for the future, thus, leaving their child somewhat neglected.

an emotional child wasn’t something that was ideal for either of them - a massive inconvenience. claire would cry and cry only to be met with logic when all she needed was some contact, a hug from either of them. it was her mother who particularly despised her crying when she was trying to work, so much so that she would resort to physically gripping her daughter a little too tightly, not the type of contact she wanted. damon hadn’t seen his partner cracking but she was.

claire’s mother had become so consumed by research that she was unable to think about anything else. her obsession with technology, specifically artificial intelligence, had consumed her and lead her to constantly write journals (ones that would never be published under her name). obsession turned into delusions and resulted in her early death. her mother’s passing deeply affected claire, not so much damon. she was old enough to understand that something had been wrong but not how or why. one minute she had someone whom she called mother, the next she hadn’t.

her mother’s journals were punished under damon stone. they brought about new opportunities for him and investments started coming his way. from a young age, claire had shown an interest in her father’s work because she quickly saw it as a way to garner affection from the man and get that ‘quality time’ she wanted. prodigy wasn’t an accurate description of claire but it was the words used when she attended university at fifteen. her entire life had been studying and was a compliant child - the thought of exams had terrified her but she had listened to damon and applied what he had taught her (or what she had overheard in passing).

it was an investment that paid off for him - she would stay with someone else and that freed up his time to devote to research. he hadn’t even told her that he had moved to the usa until she had turned up (as a surprise) at her now former home only for someone else to answer the door. luckily for her, the strangers had the right temperament to calm her down but she feared being abandoned and she had felt like it had happened. damon assured her that it was not the case but what kind of parent would not only move but move countries and not tell his child? damon’s selfish actions had preyed on her insecurity of only having him and losing him just as easily as her mother seemed to go.

it upset her and her father couldn’t understand why. he had seen a fatal flaw in her, a weakness that he had a severe distaste for. while her academics remained at the top of her class, multiple professors advised that she was too young for the institution, that it was breaking her and that she should be withdrawn from the course. they made a point of it to damon but he declined. the professors spoke to claire but she’d burst into tears and say that it couldn’t happen, that she needed to do this. if she wasn’t able to keep up with damon’s intellect, she felt she’d lose him completely.

nepotism would serve her well as she assumed a role in stoneage inc. at straight after completing her phd, at the age of twenty two. her academic would quickly be washed away by the inside hatred others would have for her, claiming the ‘special treatment’ due to the blood in her veins. at this point, her personal and professional life had fully merged into one. as stoneage inc. had more and more success, damon would only treat her as a colleague and would ridicule her, perhaps worse, for her emotional outbursts. he had always made them worse but he had hoped that if she received poor treatment, it would deter her from making the same mistake. claire wasn’t ‘strong’ like he was - all it did was knock her down.

to an onlooker, she was the classic spoilt prodigy nepotist baby in new york city. she would go out and party, would always take it too far and would even accidentally injure herself in the process. reckless and spoiled. when damon came to pick up the pieces, it was the only time he was kind and actually took care of her. however, he would take notes and label her as a liability in his mind and also spread it among his most trusted advisors.

damon kept her away from his dodgy dealings and somewhat forced her into motherhood when she assumed responsibility for sabine. the man made sure she was approved and that further lead her away from the research field. to claire, sabine was just someone that needed someone - who was she to argue with that? she wouldn't realise that it had been a calculated move, a rather misogynistic one from her father. claire quickly became attached to sabine. she cried and claire would have the natural instinct to run to her and give her a hug, to give her something she never got growing up (or rather rarely). AT SOME POINT, claire did become an overbearing mother and her control issues definitely started influencing their relationship with each other. it's not something that she realises she's doing but she is a stone after all - can you really fight your nature?

over the years, claire would continue her research but would be kept at arms length. damon wanted her to remain out of the corruption and tensions, to keep her at arms length personally so she wasn’t a distraction. no one would know why mr. stone kept her so distant when also writing her as the sole inheritor of stoneage inc. (keeping her in the dark would do his legacy and multi-billion dollar empire a favour in the future).

she would also develop her own unwanted feelings towards androids. they were emotionless, efficient, everything her father wanted her to be. perhaps that was why he was so obsessed. the woman found herself wishing far too many times that she was one - maybe appreciation would come with that. it was a thought that she’d run away with, primarily while drinking alone in her exquisite penthouse. it was so easy to just erase a models memory, to reinvent it for a particular purpose. it felt like dangerous territory and she knew it. claire envied them but her interest was peaked if they could be capable of taking on a particular emotion, a download of her own negative feelings onto a drive. it didn’t seem realistic but it also didn’t seem impossible. however it was only a thought, one that turned into several but none ever actioned or analysed.

multi-billionaire damon stone drops dead. that would be the headline. an unexpected death at a crucial moment in trial talks with the government, a bereaved claire steps in to close the deal. cause of death remains undetermined and foul play has not been ruled out. a surprise and expected, claire stone assumes the role of ceo of stoneage incorporation as well as inheriting her father’s fortune. it was a partnership that would be described as destined. she had failed at winning her father’s affection and she wouldn’t fail again. that was easier said than done.

there is a period when it seems the woman doesn't care about her dear father's passing - she was thrown into the deep end and wanted to do well, finally given the chance to prove her worth. it was odd how little tears she shed given her past emotional outbursts. there was a lot she needed to be doing. there was a lot of pressure on her but for the first time in her life she not only accepted it but thrived on it. it was like a temporary high for her. with damon out of the picture, claire's life felt better and that didn't feel like it was stopping.

people would think it was the wrong time to try for a child shortly after her father's passing and her peaking in her career but claire felt like it was the perfect time - everything was going right. someone had donated and her ivf treatment had succeeded after a few rounds that had made her ill. she'd push through. of course, the maternal image does not go without stoneage capitalising on it, to show that it is just as about people and the new generation as it is about ai. claire doesn't believe everything that comes out of her mouth, she hates everyone telling her she's glowing when she feels absolutely terrible but it was good for business. the woman who's got it all - that would be a frequent headline.

at the end of june, claire has another daughter at a birthing centre surrounded by trusted confidants and a small selection of vetted staff members. the high from it all is beyond her. she names her celine but hopes no one will call her cece for short but lina instead. so many emotions are going through her during that first week and the room is silent after she utters the words 'i can't wait for him to meet her'. it's like she's been hit with a dose of reality, it finally sinking in that her father isn't here, neither is her mother. the memory of her and damon in the theatre clapping for sabine comes to her, they'd been so proud of her but she was unable to imagine that situation for the baby up against her because it was unattainable. finally breaking down in tears follows that, an extremely delayed reaction but an action, nonetheless. claire felt like she had destroyed her own happiness by making that statement, it forcing her to acknowledge what was happening, what had actually happened to her?

now comes the time where claire feels like she's pushed herself too hard. every thought somehow leads her back to him and nightmares start up in her very little sleep time. her subconscious has blocked something out and she can't uncover what. at the same time as trying to care for celine, she feels like sabine is the one that needs the most attention from her. she does as much as she can from home because she feels like lina's too tiny to be taken into that place - she wants to keep her from it.

to those outside, claire stone is a formidable force but others within the corporation know that it’s only a matter of time before she cracks, and when that happens they will be there to assume the inc. for themselves...

THE UNKNOWN

the something that she has blocked out entirely and at this stage doesn't know about. the first model of replicant stoneage put out was an C1AI.re, a replicant that had been modelled by the couples own daughter with some modifications on the features that they thought weren't attractive/wouldn't 'sell'. the models were suddenly discontinued several years after their release, previously being a model to be upgraded. it was when damon had grown to despise his own daughter.

C - Claire

1 - first

AI - what it says on the tin

.re - replicant

perhaps some plots??

honestly looking for anything and everything but here are some ideas

people who work for meta news - perhaps they’re old friends that have spoken in a professional setting before? someone who ran a succession story on claire without permission, someone who’s been trying to get her to do that tasteless all-about-me interview after the death of her father? an ally that has buried stuff (can be discussed) for her in the past?

sentient androids that, you know, want her gone. self-explanatory. also perhaps a privately hired android? only the best, of course.

someone under her wing - we all know after reading my ramblings claire is a mess but would be nice if she had people under her wing, most likely started before she assumed her new role in the incorporation. what their intentions are is utp. maybe even her own protegé? someone with potential?

i’m tired right now so i’m stopping here but i love brainstorming and would love to get plots with you. this probably wasn't all of it but i love to muse!!

#lawlessintro #mental illness tw #abandonment tw #abuse tw #just very bad parenting in general tw #death tw #mention of pregnancy tw #ivf tw

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ariaxjohnson · 6 months

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if you’re hearing DON'T KILL MY VIBE by SIGRID playing, you have to know ARIA JOHNSON (SHE/HER; CIS WOMAN) is near by! the TWENTY FIVE year old BARTENDER has been in denver for, like, TWO YEARS. they’re known to be quite IMPULSIVE, but being ASSERTIVE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble KRISTINE FROSETH. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those LATE NIGHT PHONE CALLS, ESCAPE PLANS & SPONTANEOUS ROAD TRIPS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the RINO DISTRICT long enough!

Musings // Pinterest // Playlist

S T A T I S T I C S

GENERAL

NAME: Aria Johnson AGE: 25 HEIGHT: 5'6 BIRTHDAY: August 20th OCCUPATION: Bartender at Hell & High Water

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: Leo sun, Scorpio moon, Gemini Rising MBTI: ESTP - T ENNEAGRAM: 8w7 POSITIVE TRAITS: assertive, adventurous, confident NEGATIVE TRAITS: impulsive, impatient, reticent

HEALTH

ALCOHOL: Often DRUGS: occasionally PHYSICAL: n/a PSYCHOLOGICAL: BPD, PTSD, C-PTSD

M I S C / F U N F A C T S

- There is not a single Sigrid or CHVRCHES song that Aria doesn't relate to - Very much a "leave before get left" approach to life - Would absolutely carry vodka in a waterbottle, and what of it - Honestly takes pride in how aloof and guarded she is. Kind of treats it as a game sometimes, finding amusement in people trying to "figure her out" - yet still desperately wants someone to understand her even though she self sabotages so much they eventually get tired of her games - expect many late night texts if you're friends w/ her a;sdgja - so. much. anger

W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S

- Drinking buddies - Ex's (romantic or platonic!) - Confidants - Childhood friends (that likely lost touch) - Friends she used to live with (would be right after high school, a group of friends moved in together and had a huge falling out, which was the spark for Aria to pack up and move to Denver) - Found Family vibes !!!!!! - And really anything else!

B I O G R A P H Y:

( TW: Abandonment, Emotional abuse, Grooming, Suicidal ideation/attempt )

TLDR: Aria was a competitive figure skater and an olympic hopeful. However, between the pressure her mother placed on her, the muddied boundaries between her and her coach, the fall right before the Olympic trials was merely the last straw that broke the camel's back. She found Denver to be an escape from all of the pressure and expectation.

Aria used to joke that she learned how to ice skate before she learned how to walk. As far back as she could remember, prodigy, a natural, Olympic hopeful were all labels orbiting around her. Her entire world revolved around the ice. When she wasn't actively competing, she was rigorously training. Sleep was the only break she'd get from skating, and she'd still be perfecting every technique in her dreams. Before long, several competitions in, she established a reputation for herself for her relentless precision, almost feeling more machine than human. And with her growing success, she began to realize she'd only hear from her father, who left before Aria could form any meaningful memories of him, when she won something. Yet no matter how many competitions she finished first in, or how exceptional her score was, there was always something to criticize. At least, that was how she rationalized her mother screaming and shouting behind closed doors, ridiculing and degrading her for every tiny mistake, even ones that the judges themselves didn't even seem to notice.

Her coach, on the other hand, couldn't cease to sing her praises. Always asking her to demonstrate for the others, being the first to teach her more advanced techniques, and expressing more pride than she ever had felt from her mother. Yet even with the pedestal he put her on, she felt like he was the only one who still treated her like a person. He understood things at home were difficult, an understatement at best, and he would lend an ear to any vents she needed to get off her chest. In time, he trusted her with his own burdens and troubles at home. Conflicts with his wife, excusing and problem solving ways to hide his own infidelity, and more. None of which he should have looked for support from a child. Even as boundaries started to waver, Aria couldn't comprehend the red flags. Not only was she a child, but one who lacked any sense of comfort or nurture from the one who was supposed to love her the most in the entire world. He made her feel important. As though she had a place in the world. As though she mattered.

Her peers training alongside her began to be more perceptive to his favoritism. Some took it out on Aria herself, whereas others were more confused and occasionally concerned. Unbeknownst to Aria, her coach shifted in his treatment towards her. At least, publicly. Calling her on each mistakes loud enough for people on the other side of the country to hear, with so much contempt that she couldn't help but wonder at times if he and her mother exchanged notes on how to cut her down most efficiently. Yet, whenever they were alone, his sweet, caring persona would be back. He'd even explain to her that the others didn't understand, and he couldn't have them get the wrong idea. She bought the excuse, even as it formed a strange pit in her stomach - tying into knots as it felt like she was a secret. Still, she just reminded herself that he didn't really mean it every time he made her feel like the dirt under his shoe that he was trying to scrape off anytime they were in the presence of others.

At fifteen, she could start to see a light at the end of the tunnel, after putting her blood sweat and tears into training. The Olympic trials were right around the corner, and she felt more confident than ever. Her coach even was easing up on her. She finally felt like she was doing something right. However, during practice, after hours and hours of overexerting herself, she missed her landing, her ankle bending in a way she never knew it could before, and let out a harrowing yelp. And for as much pain as she was in, she wouldn't be able to recall it if she tried to retell the story present day - the only pain she could remember was every cruel word that felt like spears piercing through her from her coach. After a while, his voice became muffled - in fact, everything did… it was like she had slipped underwater and she was just hearing indistinguishable shouts from above the surface. Until finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and she took off her skates, and stormed out - or as best as she could with a sprained ankle, more so hopping than anything.

When she got outside, she had no incline as to where she wanted to go, just anywhere but there. And the adrenaline coursing through her veins failed to remember the rink leading directly to a busy intersection. Was she so out of it that she couldn't perceive the cars zipping down the road? Or did she just not care? Either way, she woke up to fluorescent overhead lights, persistent beeping of monitors, and a nurse informing her that she was lucky to be alive. The entire duration of the time she was in casts, her mother could hardly stand to look at her. As if she was the one who worked so hard and dedicated her entire life to this one dream that shattered along with the bones in her body. Aria was lost… Knowing it'd be a miracle if she ever got herself to skate again, and impossible to ever perform as well as she had before, she didn't know who she was anymore.

She started staying out late, going to any party she could find only to go to school hungover having slept barely an hour. Teachers noticed her shift and were understandably concerned. But no matter how many times the counselors would try to get through to her, she was intent on her mission to self destruct. After spending so much of her life maintaining a perfect image to satisfy those who didn't know the meaning of the word, it felt liberating to let herself fall apart for everyone to see.

Having no interest in continuing her education to college, Aria moved in with a few friends and lived paycheck to paycheck with any minimum wage jobs they could find. Yet drama ensued, as she was beginning to realize it inevitably did wherever she seemed to go. With the money she saved, she moved out and ventured in search of a place where no one knew her and there were no ghosts from her past, finding that haven in Denver, Colorado when she was twenty three.

#intro #abandonment tw #abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #grooming tw #suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw #suicide attempt tw #chq;intro #god this was so rambly buT here's this trainwreck adgjas;g

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foxinfuzzysocks · 1 month

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No panic, no despair, and no bitter sense of betrayal can compare to abandonment. Whether it's just perceived or real.

#actually bpd #bpd #actually borderline #borderline personality disorder #abandonment tw

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ofdieus · 1 month

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‘ jacob anderson, cis man, he/him, 30 (300), high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems CORMAC ASTER has finally made it to the capital, the LORD from the DAY COURT is said to be DEBONAIR and is said to describe themselves with CHOOSING PRESTIGE AND OPULENCE OVER DUTY, A SHARP TONGUE AND AN EVEN SHARPER MIND, SUNLIGHT BURSTING FROM BENEATH YOUR SKIN, FAINT LAUGHTER LINES ADORNING TIRED EYES & SETTING YOURSELF ON FIRE TO KEEP OTHERS WARM and with all of this in mind their IMPRUDENT nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

GENERAL DETAILS.

full name: cormac donahue aster nickname(s): mac, corey, cor date of birth: january 28th zodiac: aquarius sun, leo moon, leo rising gender & pronouns: cis man ( he / him ) species: high fae place of birth: the day court orientation: bisexual, biromantic occupation: lord of the day court, cursebreaker

PHYSICAL, ETC.

faceclaim: jacob anderson hair colour & style: here clothing style: here distinguishing characteristics: bright eyes, charming smile piercing(s) & tattoo(s): none

PERSONALITY.

positive trait(s): debonair, gregarious, optimistic negative trait(s): imprudent, decadent, heedless like(s): flirting, parties, the colour red, dancing dislike(s): clothes that don't fit, tomatoes, overly strong drinks hobbie(s): hand-to-hand combat, reading, cursebreaking, judgling character inspiration: helion (acotar), derek morgan (criminal minds), tyler durden (fight club)

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

mother: crystal donahue father: danriel aster (deceased) sibling(s): cedrian aster (half-brother), tbh significant other: tbd (ex-wife)

BACKGROUND.

biography trigger(s): child abandonment, mention of death and depression, broken marriage

Cormac was a result of the high lord and a beautiful woman from the day court. She was never bitter or even resentful of the outcome because she got Cormac. He loved his mother dearly but after a few years, she realized she didn't want to be a mother anymore.

Instead of taking him with her, she allowed his father to step in. Danriel allowed Cormac to come live with him and the rest of the family at the palace. This opened up his world more than he could imagine. His mother, although she loved him.. Couldn't provide what the high lord could. Cormac saw that and he welcomed it.

As he got older, he started to become interested in curse breaking. Cormac would watch his father work and always asked questions. At first it was what Cormac though would help the two of them bond but as he started to learn it more, he discovered he loved it.

As he grew older, he started getting better and better at breaking curses. Although his father was the skilled one in the family, Cormac thought one day it would be his turn to be the best.

Being a son of Danriel, he was subject to an arranged marriage. For alliances. Cormac didn't mind, he wanted to give back something to his father for taking him in when his mother left. He knew he would do anything his father asked... So he married someone from another court and together, over the years, he began to fall in love.

After his father died, Cormac fell into a depression. He began avoiding his responsibilities and continuously leaving the day court. For the first few years after his fathers death, he could barely spend any time in there. He would still practice his abilites because he knew that would be what his father wanted but he mainly did so when he was under the influence so it set him back rather than put him forward.

Now, after his father has been gone for forty years, Cormac has started to feel like himself again... Although his marriage didn't withhold the depression and the grief, he knows she's probably better off. He mourns the marriage as well but ultimately, he couldn't be the kind of husband she needed. Instead, Cormac worked on himself and became more well known as a curse breaker, which helped his self esteem and his vision of his father. He may not be the high lord but he is always available for his siblings and most of the time, they are the only people he trusts.

HEADCANONS.

Cormac loves music, he has a fine ear for it and loves to dance - at most formal events you can find him on the dance floor

if he's not in the day court, he is usually in summer or the capital... he has homes there that he likes to spend time in to assist with breaking curses and trying to build alliances with the other members of the court

he loves love... even if he doesnt say he does, Cormac wants to find someone who he can spend his life with

he enjoys wearing black and dark colours but is known to wear red to events so he can stand out in a crowd

he tends to flirt a lot and is very open about that, he enjoys making other people feel good / complimented

Cormac would do anything for the people he loves and would sacrifice most of his wellbeing if it means they'll be happy

#cormac — biography #tw death #death tw #depression tw #tw depression #tw abandonment #abandonment tw #ofcourtfables:intro

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greywoodrpg · 2 months

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𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤-𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕖

he was born thirty-four years ago, is a werewolf, lives in white oaks as a music producer and private guitar lessons teacher, and is in no pack. he looks an awful lot like rory culkin.

"I'm living like a landmine Waiting to explode I'm ticking like a time bomb Ready to go I'm a danger to myself and everybody else."

tw: abandonment, anger issues, bullying, violence, alcohol, car accident, hit and run, attack, injury, hospital

Avery was left in his biological father and his husband's care when he was only a baby, being the result of a one night stand, Avery's mom never felt like she was fit for the role and so she tracked Avery's dad down and left the baby with him. Avery lived a very happy childhood making no distinction between his biological father and his partner, to Avery they were both dad, both his own flesh and blood. Despite this, there was always something troubling the boy, he was loved, cared for, yes, but in a way, he felt unwanted, because he could never understand his mother's actions, and the fact she never tried looking for him, check on how he was doing, even after many years, refusing any contact left Avery with this opened wound he hasn't been able to fully close. It was when he reached his teenage years the problems began, while Avery was always a sweet, kind person, he also struggled with impulse control and anger issues, due to the never knowing his mother and her side of the family, but also this being something that runs in the family as his father struggled with the same problems. Avery would get in fights at school he couldn't stand being bullied and would never back down when someone was not nice to him, also defending those who were bullied, though mostly this was an excuse to let some of the rage out. Avery's parents did their best to help him trough this issues, while one would sit down and talk to him, teaching how do deal with all those feelings, the other would help him find a way to gain more control of those impulses trough music... and that's how Avery fell even harder for it, latter becoming a music producer and playing guitar in a friend's band. So, his life was pretty good, Avery felt he had enough with his many friends and family, he was happy, and then...one night...everything changed... It was after a band's performance, Avery had a little more to drink than usual, which lead him to notice someone, and while he never really cared much for a relationship, love, sex, had honestly never been something that present in his life, there was something about this girl, he couldn't tell what, but Avery found himself agreeing to spend the night with her... on the way to her home an accident happened... they hit something with the car, Avery couldn't just allow her to keep driving and let whatever it was to die on the side of the road so he got out of the car to check. And that's what doomed him... He didn't had time to check what was the animal they hit, something come running out of the woods, something big...next thing he knows, the beast is on top of him, Avery feels claws, and teeth and...the car rushing away, she left him, she left him to die... He doesn't know what happened, who found him, all that Avery remembers is waking up in the hospital, his parents worried sick by his bedside... And Avery's body began to change... he couldn't explain what was happening, his senses were sharper, noises were hurting his ears and the rage...oh the rage...it was just too much to keep in... After a fight with his dad turned violent, Avery knew he needed to go, seek help, he had just hurt one the men he loved the most in the whole world, he was changing, becoming something he didn't like, he hurt his family! The rage was taking over and it felt not even working on his music was helping, not like before. So Avery left, to work on himself and figure out what he was becoming...living in Greywood for the past month helped him figure out what was happening, and now Avery hopes to find others like him, others that can help him gain the control over his powers he needs. Because there's no way he's coming back to his family and risk hurting them again... Or even wrose...

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

None.

penned by... sandy

#town rp #mature rp #oc rp #supernatural rp #horror rp #literate rp #taken #werewolf #rory culkin fc #abandonment tw #anger issues tw #bullying tw #violence tw #alcohol tw #car accident tw #hit and run tw #attack tw #injury tw #hospital tw

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cobwebbed-crow · 5 months

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#original post #art #poetry #traumacore #abandonment #abandonment tw #colored text #poem #my poetry

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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tabithaxking · 24 hours

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Clover: someone you miss right now?

“In my bleakest moments, I miss my mom. She is the type of the person who.. when she’s at her best and you’re in her orbit, she can make you feel like you’re the most special person in the whole world. Like you’ve been chosen. But when she comes down, the last place you want her to be looking is at you. And then she’s gone again, and it feels like the sun going behind a cloud. It’s cold and empty and it feels like it’s your fault. I miss seeing the good version of her, but it hurts too much when she inevitably leaves.”

#∘₊✧────── tabitha king. ( q + a )#meme day #mental illness tw #abandonment tw

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hmshermitcraft · 11 months

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:For theme:

The Scarlet Pearl the dreaded monster of the dark oak forests a monster all fear. She who commands a legion of wolves armed with an axe of crying obsidian they say if she catches you in her gaze you will never be seen again….of course that’s the horrible legend Pearl has been associated with since she was a baby. You see Pearl was abandoned in the forest as a baby all because she was born with a crescent moon shaped birth mark on her face that runs from her left eye to her chin luckily she was found by a rather abnormally large pack of wolves and raised her like their own.

And sure as she got older she turned the red cloth she was found in into a very comfy and soft jacket. But that doesn’t mean she’s an omen of freaking death! The only reason she has this stinking axe is because she found it in some ruins from a broken nether portal not to mention she didn’t have claws and fangs like her family so she needed some way to defend herself. No that’s not what hurt the first time she came across another human it was a family of three and when she tried to say hi they ran away like she was a monster…so fine if they wanted a monster she’ll be a monster.

Now Etho, Cleo, and Mumbo are in their opinion’s decent monster hunters so when they get called to hunt down the omen of death called the Scarlet Pearl they thought it would be a normal gig go in kill the monster get the reward money go home. So they tried to gather some info on this monster and all they got were a bunch of random folktales and vague descriptions at best the only solid information they were given is that the monster wore a bright red cloth that was visible even in the dark oak forest surrounding the village.

Now the three were used to getting vague descriptions of their targets but this was pushing it! But they luckily learned something important the Scarlet Pearl won’t attack as long as you pay an offering usually of meats and coins now this the trio can work with. So they geared up Mumbo with his netherite shield and redstone bombs, Etho and his trusty fishing rod, and Cleo with her potions and sword. After they double check everything they head into the forest at night getting ready for the hunt to begin.

It was just another night for Pearl patrol the woods maybe hunt some game but no this time she had visitors so time to go through the whole “I’m a big scary monster routine” whoopee…so when she arrived to where these visitors were she noticed something different these people looked like they were looking to fight already spotting her family hiding in the bushes and behind the trees…this was gonna be fun. So she slowly walked out of the woods with her head down axe grinding against the ground before stopping looking at the three.

“Do you have the toll?” She asked in the low ominous voice look just cause she didn’t like this part of her routine doesn’t mean she can’t have fun every now and then. And when the woman with snake hair stepped forward saying “No we’re here to stop a monster and I’m guessing that’s you?” Oh boy these ones are actually smart and kinda pretty wait no! Focus Pearl! Before the woman could step closer she snapped her fingers causing her family to appear from the tree lines making the mustached one jump gave Pearl a little laugh.

And that’s when the mayhem began as they all began to fight in the dead of night the sound of exploding redstone and the shattering of potion bottles filled the air before the clashing of blades did. Now the trio knows they’ve been fooled for one this wasn’t a monster this was a person albeit a very powerful person she tore mumbo’s shield in half with her bare hands! That was 7inches of solid enchanted netherite?! They only managed to get her to stop when Cleo pinned an older looking wolf to a tree causing Pearl to drop her axe and run over to Cleo only to be tied up by Etho’s fishing rod and once the adrenaline wore off the three noticed this woman was covered in dried blood, scars, and muck the only remotely clean thing on her was the red jacket she was wearing so they took the opportunity to do some questioning.

And boy oh boy! Did they get some answers because it turns out Pearl as she was called was not only abandoned because of a birthmark but was feared by a regional superstition by association with it and they were just hired to kill her! And Pearl learned who the three were and thought this was the end but nope Etho let her go and asked if she wanted to tag along with them if her family would allow it and they did on the condition Pearl’s closest sister Tilly came along with. But now the village is in for a very rude awakening not only in ethics but also learning why pissing off monster hunters was a bad idea.

(Might actually turn this into a fic!)

Pearl knows her original parents had... Intentions. She's not sure if she'd say they're good, but it was abandon her or to let the people in the village kill her. The village assumed she'd died, which protected her and her family until Pearl was old enough to fight back.

She never saw the point in revenge, though. She lived a happy life with her family. They didn't have much, but they didn't need much. A comfy place to sleep, enough food to eat, and plenty of time for grooming is good enough for them.

Well, it was certainly a challenge as Cleo tried to brush Pearl's hair for the first time. They begin to realise there is some truth in calling Pearl a monster, because Cleo thinks those bite marks in her arm might actually scar. They're able to get Pearl into cleaner clothes, even if she refuses to let go of the cloak. Nobody is allowed to touch it.

Pearl, it turns out, is a very useful addition to her ranks. Pearl's pack is on good terms with a lot of other ones, so Pearl is privy to the local gossip. If a monster has been nearby, the wolves are going to know about it. The fearsome creatures that once terrorised them are now valuable allies.

Pearl is also very easy to please romantically. She nearly falls over at any gesture! They just wish she'd maybe find an alternative to licking them...

#hermitshipping #ask #zombiecleo tag #mumbo tag #etho tag #pearl tag #docleopearlbo #child abuse tw #abandonment tw #mod 🎀#weekly theme: hurt/comfort

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henrynothiggins · 1 month

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"Who gives a kid a handgun? Who gives a kid to a mom who doesn't want one?"

Henry Marshall, 28. cis-male, he/him. Manager at Bookends. TW: talks of abandonment, foster care, teenage pregnancy, addiction, mention of alcohol and drugs

Henry Sterling Marshall was born a nobody. Born to nobodies in a town with nothing remarkable and picked up by Child Protective Services before he was a year old. Henry simply existed, pumped out into a world not fit for him, where he did not ask to be, and where he was not asked for.

"Who lets that kid fall in love? Who never taught him enough is enough is enough?"

Henry Marshall was born to teenagers from a rougher neighbourhood, one statistically proven to have higher rates of addiction, crime, and teenagers running wild. His parents wanted to be good for him, vowed to finish school, take care of him - but proved unsuccessful, and before he even reached a year old, he entered the ever broken foster care system.

He was only a baby when CPS intervened, and everyone was hopeful that given his circumstances and age, that he would be quickly adopted. But sadly, that wasn't the case. He was a bit slower than other kids to reach his milestones, to walk, to sit up by himself; and when he reached those milestones and grew older, he was introverted and shy, not exactly the type most families wanted to take home. He, instead, was sent around to many different foster homes, centers for children, and nunneries that took care of him for a few months or years at a time before shipping him off elsewhere. He never felt like he had a home anywhere, and struggled to make friends.

"You said you'd never live to see eighteen. But you cut it all off for your birthday last week."

But that wasn't the case when he was reading. He was naturally curious and inquisitive, and found himself getting lost in books from the moment he was finally taught to read. He would tear through pages and soar through stacks of books, forcing the adults around him to pick up new novels for him after he would undoubtably read all of the ones in their small libraries. When he was once slow to the jump, he could now read and write advance of grade level and his other subjects in academia were catching up as well. He was a bright kid, and he didn't sit around waiting to be adopted anymore, he decided to apply himself to learning all he could so that he could make his life better one day - not having to rely on anyone but himself.

When he was nearing fifteen, he was sent to St. James Cathedral Home for Children, a Catholic offshoot for traditional group homes and one that had an attached private school that was connected to a community college a few hours away from where he was. A keen eye from his social worker got him on the waitlist a year prior and he was sent there to continue his education, as the schools he was at previously could no longer accommodate for his advanced skills. He was enrolled in the Honours program at St. James Prep School and found himself for the first time, surrounded by like-minded people who he could relate to. He found himself coming out of his shell more, joining the speech and debate club, student council, and the swimming and track teams.

In his final years of high school, he had come into his own - and enrolled in the local community college's streamlined program, which combined his traditional high school classes with pre requisites for his desired English degree that he could complete faster upon graduation. He double majored in English and Classic Literature, his love of reading continuing to blossom into works of poetry and classic Shakespeare. He had found his voice, his footing, and his way. He graduated and move onto college campus and graduated quickly, taking summer classes to move the process along. After he finished his under graduate programs, he quickly applied and was accepted into a master's of English and eventually found himself in the Master's of Library Science program at the University of Portland.

While getting his masters degree in Portland, he fell in love for the first time. Up until University, he had never really found himself with any women he was interested in - or he was too busy focusing on sticking to himself and working hard, knowing he was only steps away from making the life he had always desired for himself.

"And I never remember a face on purpose; But I've seen yours, like, ten times since."

But Zoya changed all of that. They met his first year in Seattle, after they were paired up in a Shakespeare scene study class. He wasn't an actor by any means, but it was a creative credit towards his degree and he didn't have to actually perform anything for an audience larger than his class - so he gave it a shot. They were given the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, a favourite of his. But whether this was fate or a sneaky shot by a professor to play matchmaker when bored with freshman, something stuck and he found himself entranced by her. She was an English Education major with a minor in photography and they became friends. She was bubbly and outgoing, where as he was reserved and shy. She had big dreams for her future and he was happy with a simple life that he got to define for himself. But she saw in him what he hadn't yet discovered in himself, that maybe he was a bit more like Romeo after all. She dusted off his heart and unlocked all of the sonnets within it. After all, all of that reading had to be good for something. The two eventually started dating and continued to plan their lives together through the years, even moving in together and getting a small studio apartment off campus.

"She cried and kissed me in the laundry room; Thank God I drank enough that I could think about you."

But as their graduation neared closer, Zoya dreamed about going back home to India, where her mother and father still lived. They were both getting older and she wanted to be with him. He could hardly blame her, but when she asked him to come with her - even just for a year or two - he was too scared to say yes, so the summer after graduation they broke up and she moved back to India to spend time with her family. They keep in touch via email occasionally and have plans to potentially see each other again once she returns to America, but until then, he has cast her - and his own heart - aside and retreated into his books and into himself.

"He spent his summers in the back of a car... Learned the worst part of growing up is learning how young you are."

Seattle, Oregon, Portland; they are all too familiar, all too close to home and the part of himself he is trying to forget; so on a drunken whim, he applied to manage a book store here in Maine. It's familiar enough territory that he can find solace in his work, but far enough away that it's a fresh start for him.

He knows no one, and is feeling less like home in himself - but hey, at least this is a fresh page in a chapter of a book he wanted to keep on the shelf. A step forward, a chance to rewrite his history.

----

TL;DR: Henry is 28, heartbroken, and manages a bookstore. He just moved here a few weeks ago. He's a Leo, but doesn't know what that means. He thinks owning a Kindle is a sin and doesn't have a smart phone. Most of his shirts have ink stains in the breast pocket. He has a small studio apartments with approximately one photo on a the wall, a framed photo of himself and his favourite teacher at his High School graduation. He reads the paper unironically. He thinks any band with a 'one hit wonder' just needs another chance. Loves dogs but is tragically allergic to anything with fur. Just needs some TLC, emphasis on the love part.

Wanted connections:

Zola, his lost love (shamelessly lowkey would love an Ambika Mod fc for this... hey lol)

New friendships

Flings/one night stands

Another shot at love

Fiery customers who have good banter at the bookstore

Literally anything at all

#about henry #muse #drugs tw #alcohol tw #substance abuse tw #abandonment tw #abandonment trauma #foster care tw #teenage pregnancy tw #//hi yall!! so happy to be here :))#cant wait to write w you allllll #MerrockBio #MerrockIntro

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drifting-rocket · 1 month

Text

[It's a video]

[There is a section that details the death of a pokemon, not in depth, but it's still mentioned. The section is marked by two barriers of red bolded dashes as well as the text "A memory" and "Back to the Present" so you can skip over it if you wish.]

[Watch it?]

Above a rocky outcropping on MT Moon under a starry sky, Clefairy, Cleffa, and even a clefable or two spin and twirl in their synchronized dance.

Below them, Elliot sits- still in a shape of his past, his knees pulled close to his chest. Not far away, an absolutely massive Gengar twirls and twists with its eyes closed, mimcking the clefairy above. It lacks the wings they have- though similar spikes protrude from its back.

The gengar opens an eye, pausing its dance to look at Elliot. Its voice echoes in Elliot's mind.

"Elliot, you should dance to- You love dancing with us, right?"

'Elliot' says nothing. The gengar lowers its arms, staring at Elliot.

"Elliot."

"What's the point of this." His voice is calm, and tired. He hasn't slept well for the past few nights.

"Huh? We're having fun. Like we always have." The gengar smiles brightly.

"...You. Are having fun."

The Gengar's smile fades. "Well you would have fun too if you would just play along. But you're being difficult. Now come on- get up and dance with me, Elliot!" The gengar moves towards the boy, Elliot begins to back up, pushing himself to a standing position and bracing against the rocks. This doesn't stop the gengar from grabbing him and pulling him closer to the dancing clefairy, twirling and dancing.

Elliot struggles against the pokemon's hold, "Would you just- augh. Let go of me-" He pushes and pushes, trying to get out of gengar's grasp. "I'm- Let go of me I don't want to dance I- Let go of me!"

Elliot's shout as he finally breaks free of the pokemon's hold and stumbles backwards, startles the clefairy above, they look down, curious as to what's going on. Gengar frowns.

"Elliot you're not playing very nice."

"Because I'm not supposed to be playing at all! I'm not a kid." Elliot's hands ball to fists.

"But-"

"You forced me into this body because you're grasping at the past I would rather forget, at a life we wanted but couldn't have."

"Elliot-"

"That is NOT my name." He shouts, there's some little gasps from the clefairies above. They murmur worriedly. "But you don't want to accept that because you're too afraid to face the truth, Cleffa!"

poof!

It's at this point that the Gengar's spell breaks on Drifter, returning him to the proper age. He stands in front of the pokemon, red in the face, hot tears beginning to flow down his cheeks. Gengar brings its hands to its face, looking shocked.

"I- I just wanted you to be happy-"

"This is not making me happy."

----------------------

A memory.

It's a cold spring evening at the base of Mt Moon. A young boy stares at his first friend, lying motionless on the ground.

A gruff voice speaks with a slur to it, the air smells of blood and alcohol, "That takes care of that. Those damn pink things are too girly for a kid like you. You should have gotten a normal pokemon like a- what're they. sandshrews or smthin? Something manly. Now come on you little freak. It's past your bedtime." The source of the gruff voice grabs the boy by the shoulder, and begins to drag him.

What the boy doesn't see, is the spirit following him.

"hey... hey Elliot where are you going? Let's play more, elliot. Elliot? I'm right here can't you see me?"

The spirit stops at the edge of the town, watching its friend go. Waiting for the boy to come back.

The boy doesn't return.

Back to the present.

----------------------

"Y-you.. you left me-"

"I had to."

"I know who you are. And.. you knew who I was as soon as you began haunting me. But you didn't want to accept it." Drifter coughs, straightening his posture and wiping away the tears. "...And I was lying, because I didn't want to remember either."

"...elliot." The gengar's voice becomes more serious than it had been, as it falls backwards to a seated position.

"...That's not my-"

"I know." The gengar closes its eyes. The clefairy have floated down now, surrounding the two, cooing and chirping.

"...you grew up a lot different to how I thought you'd be."

"...I thought things would be different too." Drifter sighs, sniffling, then laughing a small bit as one of the clefairy around them tries to wipe a tear away.

"...Can we still be friends?" The gengar opens its eyes, looking at Drifter.

Drifter is silent for a moment. "...Things are very different now than they used to be, Cleffa."

"...I don't care that you're.. mean now. I just... want to be your partner. I. Want to be your friend."

He sighs. "Some things are better left in the past."

"...I don't want to."

There's silence. Drifter breaks first, holding out his hands.

"...Let's dance again. Okay?"

The gengar seems to light up at the offer, and pushes itself to its feet. It takes Drifter's hands, grinning.

The two begin to slowly spin around each other, and the clefairy return to the sky to resume their dance, they sparkle.

Like stars in the sky above Mt Moon.

#stars over mt moon #pokemon death mention #verbal abuse tw #abandonment tw #ask to tag #pkmn irl #rotomblr #pokemon irl #rotumblr #villain blog #//The end :]

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