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#being removed from bio parents for whatever reason in the first place
junsongs · 2 years
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Also in regards to my last post people are allowed to want their own biological children and yes there are many children that do need homes but I would maybe look into info from adoptees because many of them advocate for rare adoptions. Adoption shouldn’t be treated as a last minute consolation for not being able to have kids if you cant have them yourself. Adoption is extremely traumatizing to the child even in infancy and many adoption agencies put children in abusive situations because they work for profit not the benefit of children. Adoption in general effectively works like a legal form of human trafficking.
And on top of all of this not all people are suited to be good adoptive parents and women are socialized to believe our only purpose to be wives and have children so god forbid a woman find happiness in something shes been told she should have in order to be a “real woman.” And yes there is another conversation about how awful that conditioning is but disparaging women who have a desire for bio children does not fix that and it does not make you above anyone it makes you an asshole.
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variousqueerthings · 1 year
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some rambles below about the potential if johnny had had a biological dad in cobra kai instead of a stepfather (i stress “rambles” this isn’t organised)
wondering about the version of johnny who does have a bio-dad who’s just like... johnny-but-worse in a different way to how kreese is johnny-but-worse, that is while johnny was presented as a spoiled rich kid who’s kind of mindlessly aggressive/being encouraged in that by kreese, his dad could be a republican (homophobic) economist or stocktrader or smthin, some guy for whom all these trappings and johnny and laura are part of the scenery of his success (like a don draper type but less charismatic) --
which is sort of what they were trying to do with sid, but that messaging got lost the second they forgot that johnny was designed to be the blonde über-american foil to the immigration and outsider daniel and miyagi story, and sid of course cannot be that metaphor! (thinks also forever fondly about the fic about sid getting into the country club, but still being an outsider, and wonders if there’s some way of incorporating that idea into this story, but for now, placing his lost potential gently aside) 
what would it mean for a johnny who really did have all the chances to do whatever he wanted, provided he played by his real life father’s rules and his dream was to... be gay do karate? was he disowned? has he essentially disowned himself? is his father dead or alive? is there still money to be had that johnny refuses to touch? does his real life father bail him out of jail over and over and that is the extent to which he’ll help him (while also being disgusted/disappointed by his continued alcoholism, not because he himself isn’t maybe an alcoholic in the correct way, but because johnny is so obvious about it or something along those lines)? would they bump into each other end s3 at the country club?
also I realise here that this is the narrative they gave to terry, and the parallel narrative would still work, considering terry did do what his family ordered him to and johnny just... couldn’t
love a good “karate is a phase” metaphor + it would have made the sources of johnny’s pain not be his jewish stepdad (reliably removed from having to be blood-related or have anything to do with johnny’s purpose in the original film) and instead be literally all the things that were put in place for boys like him to grow up into privilege and for some Unknown Reason he was unable to fulfil that expected goal 
it also would have brought johnny’s parentage more to the front, because sid is never really particularly involved in the karate war and johnny cuts ties with him pretty fast (and then ed asner died, so idk if they were intending more), but if his actual, powerful, still-invested-in-his-stock-on-some-level father were in the plot there’d be way more you could do with that (maybe especially if he were dying? johnny is his final legacy?)
+ the core of Stuff that was increasingly forgotten by the show was also that daniel and miyagi were not related by blood, they became family by choice and to have that be a stronger bond in comparison to a johnny and his biological dad....? the idea that biological family ain’t everything and you can choose! (cries in s5.....)
laura could still have been someone either someone who came from a poor background and he married her for her looks/youth, but I also like the laura who kind of parallels ali, whose parents in the first movie ofc very much try to “push” her towards a more suitable boyfriend in... the violent and disrespectful of her boundaries johnny lawrence
there’d be a whole interesting subplot at that point of characters who didn’t come from money who were able to find a way to make their own way in life, vs characters who did come from money who got trapped in cycles of violence by doing what was expected and then visited that violence on people without as much power as them in order to assert control, and johnny attempting somehow to break that cycle without knowing how or why or even that he was really doing it by breaking from his father
ofc you coulda also killed the guy early on and had johnny’s main narrative revolve around laura, but that would assume a story that puts mothers on equal footing and it always struggled with that a bit, even back in the movie days -- tbh the only thing that I would really take from all of that, is that her maiden-name was lawrence and johnny used her name the whole time, and possibly that the full break between johnny and [insert father] was her death
bringing back sid for a sec, simply to wonder about fitting in a guy like him who’s managed to get into “the club” because off the top of my head I mainly think he belongs in a slightly different story, but if someone has something they’d like to say to that am all ears!
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lawlesslandrpg · 2 years
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Congratulations, Skyler, you’ve been accepted as the Outsider, Leo Danieli. Please send in your account as soon as possible.
Out of Character Info:
Name: Skyler
Year you were born: 1994
Timezone/Country: EST, United States
Pronoun: He/They
In Character Info:
Name: Leo Danieli
Face claim: Timothee Chalamet
Birthday: August 14 1998
Does this character have a twin or are you open to adding a twin if someone else wants to bring in your FC someday? Yeah I’d be down for a twin.
Bio: Leo had never been someone who was quite sure who he was or where he was going. He was the middle of five children, born into a busy household where he often struggled to get his needs met. His parents, while caring, both struggled with high stress jobs and were very conservative. Leo found himself often keeping to himself, not wanting to bother others in the family. He got especially close to his oldest brother, Thomas. Thomas was very outgoing, he had an easy time talking to people and everyone seemed to like him. Even when he was hanging around with his own friends, he’d often let Leo tag along and just hang out.
Thomas was murdered in a robbery when Leo was sixteen, and Leo never fully recovered. He loved his brother more than anything and could not find a reason within himself why somebody would want to kill him. Worse, he felt he had lost the only friend he had. Unable to cope with the loss and having nobody he felt he could turn to, Leo began to numb his feelings with drinking and whatever drugs he could get his hands on. Within a year he went from being an honor roll student to being checked in for the first of several stints in rehab.
Over the past several years Leo has burned his bridges with nearly every member of his family. He struggles to keep himself sober for longer than a few months at a time, and doesn’t always know how to keep himself from getting into trouble. After his last relapse his parents informed him that they could not keep enabling him. He’d been on a bender ever since, living mostly out of his car and traveling to do whatever odd job he could take. He is no stranger to the concept of waking up in a strange place with no idea of how he got there, but this time it feels different. It feels wrong, and a part of him feels scared. He doesn’t know where to run next.
Sample:
~*~Removed~*~
Anything Else:
I haven’t applied for an RP since like 2016 and am just coming back into the RP scene so I’m a little rusty. I’m excited to be potentially joining back into it all though.
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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years
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Winter's Doll--Chapter Twelve
Word Count: 3483
About: Nadia returns to the compound and her and Bucky have a moment.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F! OC
Characters: Nadia, Bucky, Steve, Tony, Clint, and Laura
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Drinking, Sexual Content (Fingering, Oral-M Receiving, and Unprotected Sex-This a work of fiction so wrap it before you tap it).
A/N: Sorry this fic is taking forever to finish. I have one more chapter and I can focus on all my other single fics.
*This work contains stuff written for the 18 and up crowd. Please read at your discretion. Minors DNI. This work is cross posted to other sites under the same name. If you want to follow my other accounts, the linktree link is in my bio. I am NOT TAKING requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!
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Marvel Tags: @soccer-100000
Bucky/Sebastian Tags:
Winter's Doll Tags: @supernatural-love14 @loudlylovingalpaca @kingkhibas
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Chapter Eleven
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Nadia laid on the Barton's couch and stared at the ceiling. She had just woken up to the sound of the Barton children running around upstairs. She could hear them shushing each other every now and then when one would make a loud noise. Nadia thought it was cute and knew that Clint and Laura were raising those kids right.
Nadia had to have two surgeries after being shot. One to remove the bullet, which was a success, but Nadia developed an infection. So the doctors had to open her back up and clean it out. The healing process was painful and Nadia yelled at every nurse that came in to see her and ask how she was doing. Pretty much scaring them away. Now, Nadia didn’t mean to act the way she did towards the nurses, they were only doing their jobs, but she was in so much pain. The drugs they gave her did nothing.
Bucky had been her visitor every day. He was there to make sure she was fed properly and that she went on walks to lessen the pain in her abdomen. Bucky apologised for being a dick and getting her into this mess. But Nadia told him that it’s not his fault. The two of them patched things up and got close again. They talked and laughed until the visiting hours were over.
A week after being discharged from the hospital, Steve had pulled her into the conference room and told her that it would be best to go to Clint’s for the time being. Nadia didn’t even protest, she knew she needed the time away to rest more and see her parents.
So that night she was flown out. With only a quick goodbye to Bucky.
While Nadia was away, Bucky couldn't stop thinking about her. Bucky always thought about Nadia, but while she was away, Bucky’s mind was just filled twenty-four seven with her. He’d drift off during meetings or screw something up while doing inventory somewhere. Even before he fell asleep at night, he’d call Nadia and talk to her for a few hours. Just hearing the sound of her voice, it made Bucky feel better.
Nadia enjoyed the phone calls from Bucky. It distracted her mind from the going ons around Clint’s ranch. Especially her mother. Don’t get it wrong, Nadia loved her mother, but her mother was always up in her business. Always asking about whatever came to mind. One day, Laura found Nadia looking in the liquor cabinet.
“Sorry, I can’t stand my mother right now,” Nadia began to say.
“The hard stuff is in the back,” Laura pulled out two glasses and helped Nadia pull the bottle out. “It's just a few more days until you go back.”
Nadia took the shot Laura handed her. “How hasn’t she driven you crazy yet?”
“Who says that she hasn’t?” Laura smiled and took her shot. “Plus the kids are in love with her. But when she isn’t with the kids she’s criticizing my cooking. I’ve had to kick her out of the kitchen several times.” The two of them laughed and took a few more shots before going back out.
Nadia slowly rolled off the couch and winced at the slight pain in both her stomach and shoulder. A soft groan slips out of her lips and soon there are firm hands helping Nadia up.
“I told you that couch was killer,” Clint made sure she was steady. “Even when you have a wound like that. Should have taken one of the kids' beds.”
Nadia stared at the blonde archer. “That wouldn’t be fair,” Nadia patted Clint's shoulder. “Your kids need their beds.”
Clint tried to hold back a laugh and failed. The look in his face pretty much judged Nadia in that moment, “You, Nadie, were injured, Lyla would have understood if you took her bed for the week. So, for this last night, you will be taking Lyla’s bed.” Naida opened her mouth to protest. “Nope, don’t even. Otherwise, I’ll have to call Cap and see if another week here with your parents would be good.”
Nadia glared at the man before her. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You wouldn’t even dare,” Nadia raised her eyebrows. Clint knew that her parents were driving her crazy.
“I’ll start the coffee,” Clint patted her shoulder and walked into the kitchen.
“I think I hate you now,” Nadia called after him.
“You’ll thank me,” Clint called back.
***
Nadia had only been back at the compound for two hours before getting approached by Fury. He obviously didn’t look happy but then again, Fury never looked happy. Especially when it came to Nadia.
“Can you explain this?” Fury tossed a file to Nadia and it landed on her lap. Nadia opened the file and saw that it was transcripts from the mission she got shot on. “Can you explain why two of my best Avengers were bickering about a one night stand?”
“What is it to you?” Nadia closed the file and handed it back to Fury. “I had a one night stand with Thor and Bucky was obviously jealous. We fought and lost focus of the mission and I ended up getting shot.”
“That’s the point,” Fury dropped the file back on Nadia. “Avengers shouldn’t be sleeping together because of this.”
Nadia stood up and had the file in her hands again. “Does Thor know about this too?” Nadia took two steps towards Fury. “I guess not because no one has heard from him in about a month. So,” Nadia took another step towards Fury and held the file up to his face. “Until he’s been briefed on it and that it’s on paper and ready to sign, I will continue to sleep with teammates.” Nadia flicked her wrist and all the papers from the file scattered everywhere.
Nadia made her way towards the training facility to just sit and relax. When she got in there, Bucky was there sitting down, unwrapping his only flesh hand. “Right where I left you a week ago,” Nadia smiled when Bucky looked up and smiled at her. “Did you not move the entire time?”
“Where else would you find me?” he gave that smile Nadia loved and now it made her blush a bit. “What brings you down here? You look a bit cheerful.”
Nadia made her way towards where Bucky sat and sat next to him. “Well for one, I’m down here because of Fury,” Nadia noticed Bucky’s face when she said Fury. Guess Fury got to him too but she decided she didn’t want to pry into that. “And yes, Bruce finally got my painkillers in so I took what I could for the pain and I'm feeling greater than I have in a week.”
Bucky smiled and placed a hand on your leg. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling great and that you’re back.” Bucky let his hand linger and then pulled back. “I do want to say something to you.”
Nadia twisted her body to face Bucky and this time, it was her who placed a hand on his leg. She felt every muscle in his left tense up at her touch but she didn’t move her hand. “If you’re going to say sorry for the umptenth time, James Barnes, I will slap you with one of those training mats.”
Bucky laughed a little and covered Nadia’s hand with his metal one. Nadia had felt the metal many times before but for some reason, this time the feeling sent small little shocks of pleasure through her arm. Nadia had to tell herself that she needed to keep her calm. This was just Bucky after all.
“That and, um,” Bucky slowly let his voice trail off but his metal hand also slowly tightened around hers. “You know, you’re the only woman I call Doll.” Nadia’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to say something but nothing that came to mind would have sounded right coming out of her mouth. “When I saw you that first day, I wanted to say hi but didn’t. Then the days leading up to Starks party, I still wanted to say hi. Steve called me crazy for not doing so, cause you’re so beautiful.”
The words that were coming out of Bucky’s mouth, they were reaching Nadia’s heart. She was frozen in place, in a good way. Letting her heart melt as she let her best friend tell her how he felt. Bucky must have practiced this moment a million times this last week. Nadia felt like she was dreaming and literally took her free hand and dug her thumb nail into her index finger.
Nope, not a dream, she thought
“Over time,” Bucky was still talking. “I started to feel things for you and I memorized whatever I could about you. Like for instance, how you drink your coffee. You only add about an inch of heavy cream to your coffee. Also, you really like musicals. Sometimes, when you’re in your room, I can hear the faint sound of you singing along. And, Nadie, you have the most beautiful voice I ever--”
Nadia pushed her hand free from Bucky’s and grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards her. Bucky wasn’t taken by surprise one bit, but he didn’t think that this would be Nadia’s response. He placed both hands on the side of Nadia’s face and pressed his lips firmly to hers.
Their lips molded together like they were meant to be. Like it was a missing puzzle piece in both of their lives. Nadia’s hands loosened on Bucky’s collar and slid up and around his neck. Bucky dropped his hands to her hips and pulled Nadia up onto his lap and wrapped his arm around her. Naida gave a mixture of a sigh and moan. The sound was enough to send Bucky into a feral state.
“You have no idea how long I wanted to kiss you,” Bucky whispered as he pulled away. The shine his eyes and smile on his face, it mirrored Nadia’s. “I just pictured myself asking you first.”
Nadia rested her head on Bucky’s and ran her hands through his hair. It was soft and it smelled of cedarwood. She could feel the pounding of her heart and if she could feel it, then Bucky could most definitely hear it. Nadia took a deep breath to help steady it and pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth. Bucky’s breathing just as deep as Nadia’s. The way that her fingers just rested in his hair was soothing and relaxing. He could sit like this forever and never tire of it.
“Sorry I took that moment from you,” Nadia broke the silence and pulled away. Bucky’s hands remained on her hips and Nadia sighed as he started to run his thumbs in circles. Nadia looked to the side.
“Well,” Bucky licked his lips and used a hand to turn Nadia’s face back towards him. “It’s not the end of the world.” Bucky ran his thumb over Nadia’s lips and she instantly felt the faint throb between her legs. She wanted nothing more but to have this man tear her clothes off. “Besides, I wasn’t finished.” Bucky pulled Nadia’s face towards his, catching her lips in between his teeth. Nadia sucked in a soft but soft breath.
“Show me what you got, Sergeant Barnes,” Nadia pulled away and lightly gripped his hair. A low groan came from Bucky's lips. The wetness between her legs was getting thicker and hotter. Nadia needed Bucky to do something or she would do something about it. She needed to scream this man's name, even if the whole compound could hear her. She didn’t care. She’s wanted this man for months.
Bucky quickly stood up and had Nadia in his arms. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist where she could feel his rock hard erection pressing through his workout pants and straight into her clothed, wet core. Bucky walked them to the only bathroom in the area, kicking the door shut and blindly locking it.
Bucky set Nadia down on the counter. “I may not be a god,” Bucky pressed his lips to Nadia’s ear. “But I will make you feel so good, you’ll be left wanting more.” Shivers ran down Nadia’s back and she smirked.
“Like I said, Sergeant,” Nadia pulled away and gripped Bucky’s workout shirt tightly in her hands. “Show me what you got.” Each word slowly rolled off her tongue. Nadia let go of Bucky’s shirt and grabbed the hem of hers. Crossing her arms, Nadia ripped the cotton over her head, leaving her blue bra untouched and Bucky staring at her breasts.
After a few minutes, Bucky stepped back and ripped his shirt off. Nadia’s eyes wandered down his muscular and chiseled chest but they didn’t get too far. Nadia slid off the bathroom counter and stopped closer to Bucky. She reached out and touched the scars on his skin that met the metal of his arm. She knew his story, she knew what happened to him but seeing the scars made her heart sink. She leaned forward and kissed the scarred skin.
Nadia then began to pepper sweet, small kisses down around his chest. Bucky’s eyes just watched her. He was in awe that this beautiful woman, one he’s wanted for months, was kissing his bare skin. He wanted to engrain this whole thing in his brain. When she began to kiss down to his stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but let out a small little groan, letting his head drop back.
Bucky felt Nadia’s fingers slip between the elastic of his pants and tug down a bit. Bucky looked down to see her beautiful bright eyes looking back up at him. They were glassed over with lust with a hint of permission to go on. “Go on doll,” Bucky’s voice was husky now. “I’m all yours.”
Within seconds, Nadia had Bucky’s pants and underwear pushed down. Her hand was slowly stroking Bucky’s already hard cock. With each gentle stroke, a small moan and groan would slip through his lips.
Then, without a word or a warning, Nadia took him into her mouth. He was thick and long, the tip of his cock poked the back of Nadia’s throat. Nadia groaned at the feeling of finally feeling him in her mouth. She had dreamt and imagined what it would feel like to bob her head over his cock. She bobbed her head up and down as a slow and agonizing pace and moaned every few minutes.
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned as he felt the vibrations of Nadia’s voice. Bucky’s hand gripped around Nadia’s hair and slowly began to thrust down the back of Nadia’s throat. Nadia groaned and felt the wetness between her legs seep out and onto her underwear. She needed him now.
Nadia pulled back with a pop and stood up. Nadia undid her jeans and shimmied out of them and kicked them to the side. She walked backwards until she hit the cool counter and jumped up there and motioned Bucky to come forward with one finger.
Bucky closed the distance between them in just a few steps. He took his flesh hand and placed it behind her head and pulled her face to his. His kiss was firm and wet. He nipped the bottom of her lip, causing the wetness and ache in her core to become unbearable.
Bucky’s metal hand rubbed up Nadia’s thigh where he squeezed it tightly. Then he took his thumb and rubbed her clit through her underwear making Nadia whine into his mouth. Bucky smiled and pushed the fabric away and inserted not one, but two metal fingers into her.
“Ah, fuck,” Nadia hissed against Bucky’s lips.
“Shh,” Bucky hissed as he slowly pumped and scissored his way around inside you.
It didn’t take long for Nadia to feel her stomach tighten. She began to moan but Bucky kissed her harder to muffle her moans and pushed his fingers deep inside her. Nadia couldn’t contain herself, Bucky was twisting and curling his fingers in all the right spots. Her moans, as much as they were muffled by Bucky's lips, they were getting louder by the second. Nadia's hands flew to Bucky's hair and she gripped it tight as she felt herself tighten around Bucky's fingers.
"Damn, Doll," Bucky growled and used his thumb to rub small circles around her clit. Nadia threw her head until it hit the mirror behind her. “Let’s get you to do that again.” He dove in for her neck and sucked a hard spot on the base of her neck. And just like that, Nadia was squeezing herself around Bucky’s fingers.
“Oh, god,” Nadia breathed out as she felt herself getting closer and closer. Before Nadia could warn Bucky that she was getting close, her body was hit hard with her orgasm. It shook her entire body. Her back arched up and she screamed out as she gripped Bucky’s hair tighter. Bucky continued to finger fuck her through her high until she came down.
Bucky withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his mouth and licked them. Not breaking eye contact with her. Through her post orgasmic haze, Nadia reached for Bucky’s metal wrist and pulled his fingers from his mouth and took them in hers. The taste of her release mixed with metallic had Nadia rolling her eyes to the back of her head.
“I don’t think I've seen anything as hot as this,” Bucky’s low raspy voice sent a shiver down Naida’s back. And with that, Bucky ripped the underwear off Nadia’s lower body and discarded the rest of his pants and underwear. “Tell me you still want this,” Bucky took Nadia’s face and she opened her eyes as he lined his cock up with her entrance.
“I do,” Nadia trailed her hands up Bucky’s chest. “I want you to fuck me and if anyone hears, they will know that it’s James Barnes’s cock making me feel this good.”
Bucky’s lips twitched into a crooked smile as he pushed himself slowly into Nadia. Now, Bucky didn't stretch her as far as Thor had, but Nadia felt every vein rubbing against her and her walls fluttered around him. The two of them groaned at the feeling.
It was beautiful and it felt perfect.
As soon as Nadia was adjusted, Bucky began to slowly thrust in and out as he pulled her lips to his. This kiss wasn’t heated as before, it was deep, passionate and full of emotions. Nadia wrapped her arms around Bucky and drank in this moment. Bucky kissed down to Nadia’s shoulder and started to pick up the pace of his thrusting.
“You...feel...so...perfect,” Bucky grunted softly in between each thrust.
Nadia moaned in response as she felt the tip of Bucky’s cock push at her cervix. Within minutes, Nadia was feeling the familiar tighten in her stomach and she gently dug her nails into Bucky’s back. The action alone pulled a growl from Bucky and he began to thrust harder and deep into Nadia.
“Oh, God.”
Bucky and Nadia froze in place. The coil in Nadia’s stomach loosened and disappeared. She didn’t want to lift her eyes up at the person who entered the bathroom. She knew Bucky locked the door, she watched him lock it herself.
“What? Did someone throw their shit around?”
This voice made Nadia and Bucky look. There stood Steve looking awkwardly down at the ground. Tony peeped his head and his eyes widened at the picture before him. Bucky shifted his body to make sure Nadia was covered more and not too exposed to the men standing in the doorway.
“Huh,” Tony nodded his head and nogged Steve. “Now we know why the door was locked. By the way,” Tony gestured towards the naked forms. “So glad that this happened. Now that sexual tension during every meeting and mission is gone. Just don’t let us find you fucking during missions.” With that Tony left.
Steve, with his head still down said, “Fury is looking for you Nadia. Something about meeting with the President.” Then he was leaving, closing the door behind him.
“Well, that happened,” Nadia leaned back and looked at Bucky. “I guess I shouldn’t keep Fury waiting.”
“Oh no,” Bucky nodded and slowly pulled his cock out of Nadia. Nadia closed her eyes at the emptiness. When she opened them, Nadia saw Bucky picking her clothes up and handing them to her. “Sorry about the underwear.”
Nadia slid off the counter and smiled. “Don’t worry,” she took the clothes from his hands. “I have plenty more you can ruin.”
“I look forward to that,” Bucky pulled Nadia into his arms and kissed her. “Hopefully you’ll let me ruin another pair tonight.”
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The Superfam as Yandere’s Part 1: Clark Kent
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This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, kidnapping, and physical abuse. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.
*Suicide Warning*
As Always Feedback is Welcome
Clark always wondered about the hand print on his chest, his parents said it was a birthmark, but Clark always thought that it was more. Growing up, he’d find himself staring at it, wondering what it meant because it just had to mean something, it had to.
Once Clark found out about where he was from, suddenly it made a lot more sense. Jor-El had explained that on Krypton, it would be used to identify one’s life mate or to use earth terminology, a soulmate, the person whom he’d spend the rest of his life with. It’d be the first place that they’d touch him.
Not the first place he’d touch them mind you, Jor-El had made that distinction clear, on Krypton it wouldn’t have mattered much, but on earth, it would make all the difference. Humans didn’t have pre-determined mates; they wouldn’t have the same instant connection. Clark supposed he could live with that, he’d just have to build a relationship with them the human way.
At least until he’d pulled you from a burning building, many people over the years had placed their hands over his mark while flying, but it hadn’t felt like this before, searing pain followed by soothing coolness, and even if Jor-El hadn’t explained it to him, Clark would have known you were his on the spot.
Everything in him vibrated with the need to make you his, to claim you. On Krypton, this wouldn’t have been a problem; his mate would have felt the same, but here on earth, relationships had to be built. Once you were safely back on the ground, it took more strength than Clark thought he possessed to release you, and it took even more strength to keep from frying the EMT, who wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.
As you watched superman fly off, you had no idea how much your life was going to change, and how badly you’d wish it didn’t.
Clark had thought he’d have more control then what he did, as it turns out it was harder to fight his Kryptonian instincts than he’d realized. At first, he’d settled for watching you, his periscopic and x-ray vision making this an easy task. Some days when he was feeling extraordinarily brave, he’d sneak into your apartment and just be surrounded by your life.
While Clark was there, he’d decided to use his time to find out whatever he could about you; that way, when the two of you got married, he could have everything on the farm perfect. His mother would have been so happy to meet you, but she’d passed away last year and would never get the chance to.
Clark shook off the sadness that thought brought; he’d found his soulmate he needed everything to be absolutely perfect for your first meeting, but before that, he’d have to get rid of that waste of space you called a husband.
After the man died in what the police would rule a tragic accident, you’d start going to a grief counseling group, one that Clark would take full advantage in joining, the death of his mother was still a fresh wound, after all, this would be a way to kill two birds with one stone.
Clark had just started talking about how his parents met, his father was getting his degree in agriculture, and his mother had been going to law school because of her parents wishes. Some man in a fancy suit interrupted Clark to say, “You can get a degree in farming.” In the most condescending tone, Clark had ever heard.
Clark was about to say something when you chimed in, “You’re the kind of person who thinks you can plant corn in the same soil every year, and it’ll be perfectly fine, aren’t you? Well, jokes on you, there’s some legitimate science that goes into farming.” The group counselor got everything back on track after that, Clark finished his story about his parents
When the group was over, you’d came up to him and started talking, “I’m sorry about Robert he can be a real jerk sometimes, but he’s lost someone just like the rest of us. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him honestly,” You said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.
Clark remembered the man’s story. It had been just over a year ago when his little sister who’d been attending Central City University had called him really freaked out and said she was coming back to Metropolis but on her way she’d died in a tragic car accident. The girl’s body had been so charred that they could only identify her by a necklace her brother had given her.
Clark thought it sounded similar to the story of how Barry brought his wife home, just a much more gruesome version, really all Flash had done was liberate the girl from years of unnecessary struggle. What really was the point in getting her doctorate when the young little thing wasn’t going to be able to use it anyways. Berry had been taking excellent care of her; she was even about to give birth to their first child soon. Clark still thought it was a bit too early for that, Berry’s wife had yet had time to properly adjust to married life, but who was he to judge.
What did it matter anyway when her brother had given Clark the perfect point to insert himself into your life? Over the next year, the two of you got to know each other better, and Clark couldn’t be happier, at least he thought so until one day when you’d kissed him.
The rain had suddenly just started pouring down, and the two of you were hiding under an awning of a local café, giggling like mad, and then you grabbed onto his tie and pulled him down to your level. When you pressed your lips against his, Clarks heart soared. Clark wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you right up against him with strength you didn’t know he possessed. You smiled against his lips, happy for the first time since your husband died. If only you knew where this would end.
Three months later, he pulled you onto a rooftop, removed his glasses, and jumped off the edge. “Clark,” you’d screamed as you started running over to where he ledge, only to have him land in front of you. “You’re,” You gulped.
“Superman,” Clark said finishing your sentence. You ran like hell, you cared for Clark, and you were grateful to superman, who was well apparently also Clark, but you couldn’t lose anyone else like you had your husband. So, you decided to lose Clark now, while he was still alive, and your heart would only ache because of a breakup and not a funeral.
You cried yourself to sleep that night.
You woke up in a strange place to the sound of a rooster crowing, you felt your heart in your throat, and then Clark walked in and started acting like you’d been married for years and refusing to acknowledge when you’d tried talking sense into him.
You’d learned to play along, but he’d never truly broke you, and years later, a few days before Jon was five, you ran as fast and far as you could. Part of you felt guilty for leaving Jon behind, but he was just like his father; you could see it already.
You knew you couldn’t run forever, so somehow, you’d ended up standing in front of the hall of Justice waiting for the league. It was a dumb plan, who would even know if they’d believe you, but they couldn’t approve of Clark kidnaping a woman and forcing her to have a kid.
You’d been relieved when batman brought you back into the members-only part of the hall, they believed you or were at least taking your allegations seriously. You didn’t realize what a mistake it would be to go to Clark’s friends until Bruce stabbed you in the neck with a tranquilizer.
You wanted to cry when you woke up tied to a support beam in the Kent farms storm cellar. You’d been so close to freedom, why did you think that the Justice League didn’t know about you.
Clark came down into the cellar later that night with dinner in tow, and when he asked you why you ran away, you spit in his face, you were done playing the docile little housewife. For years you’d bent to this man’s will even having a child you didn’t want, well no more.
Clark didn’t bring you food for three days after that, and in those days, the only reason Clark came down was to let you use the bucket in the corner he’d been calling your bathroom, still you’d held firm. You’d lost track of time, but after nearly two years had passed in that damn cellar, you spotted it hiding in the corner.
A rusty knife lay buried under buckets of what was probably the lead paint Clark had used to make sure Jon couldn’t see in here. You’d been fraying your ropes against the beam since Clark had brought you breakfast, and once it was a hair away from braking, you waited until you were sure Clark wasn’t coming back for a while.
Once you were sure, Clark wasn’t going to come back; you snapped your rope and ran over to the knife. No matter how heavy the blade felt in your hand, you were under no illusions of being able to take down superman. If you couldn’t have your freedom by running away, you’d take it another way, you thought as you closed your eyes and pressed the blade to your throat.
When Clark came back to the cellar with your dinner, he couldn’t believe what he saw, his soulmate was lifelessly laying on the floor surrounded by her own blood.
Tags:
@yanderepeterparker​
@idkmanicantenglish​
@prettyafghan (If You want to be tagged let me know by filling out the form in my bio)
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priorireverte · 3 years
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Congratulations Nik!
Your application for Amelia Bones has been accepted. I can’t wait to see what trouble and frustrations Amelia gets into, so stripped of power and authority. No passed handed out to former Department Heads, sorry Amelia!
Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!
OUT OF CHARACTER
NAME & PRONOUNS: Nik, they/them
TIMEZONE: ACDT
ACTIVITY LEVEL: Relatively active. At least 3 to 4 times a week
ANYTHING ELSE: Cancer tw, hospice tw.
CHARACTER DETAILS
NAME: Amelia Susan Bones
BIRTHDATE: September 20th 1946
DEATHDATE: July 14 1996
GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis woman. She/her and they/them pronouns. Bisexual with a heavy preference for women.
BLOOD STATUS: Half Blood
HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff
OCCUPATION: Former DMLE HEAD (until death)
FACECLAIM: Louise Lombard (i have my own gifs and icons and things of her so dont worry to much about resources :D )
CHARACTER BACKGROUND
POSTBELLUM
The knowledge she died and left her brother and niece alone in the world weighed heavy on her shoulders.  It’s something she  isn’t coping with well. The knowledge that her death was the final stand the Ministry had, that it was taken over by Voldemort because she couldn’t beat him, was a tough pill to swallow for her. She knew he had his faith around and in the shadows waiting, she could count the amount of people she completely trusted in the Ministry on one hand but she thought that there would have been more of a stand. The knowledge that her failure was the reason the people she served suffered another war  sits heavy on her shoulders.  If she could do it again she would be more prepared, have an escape plan rather than just hold her ground against him. She wouldn’t have the same faith that the Ministry would hold their own against him without her, she should have known better. The only thing sitting on her shoulders heavier than that is the knowledge that her niece had suffered, that she wasn’t there to stop that and holds herself completely responsible for it.
PERSONALITY
Tough, fair, kind, compassionate. This is how Amelia would describe herself if asked. She is far more gentle on the inside than most people who work around her would think. Stick her in a room with her niece for just a moment and you’ll see the stern blue eyes soften immediately.  Amelia is a skilled negotiator and investigator. She has a way with words and a great deal of understanding in how to use them. However, she isn’t very good at using them to describe how she feels. She is compassionate,and hardworking, she much prefers to listen to how others are feeling than share her own feelings. Everyone else comes first in her mind. Will always put the needs of others in front of her own.
BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY
The oldest of the Bones three siblings Amelia always felt somewhat responsible for them. Constantly looking out for them and keeping their health and wellbeing in mind. Being an Aunt has always been considered her greatest achievement. Holding Edgar’s first child was a life changing experience and laying them to rest with their parents was life shattering.
Her brother and niece were all the family she had left and she cherished them. With the death of her sister in law, Susan’s mother, Amelia truly stepped up to the plate. She never tried or wanted to replace her mother but knew despite her brother’s best intentions, Susan needed someone else to be around. Amelia doesn’t have any children and has never seen the need to have any, when asked if she was planning on having any she’d simply smile and reply “I have Susan. I don’t need anymore children in my life”
HISTORY What was their life before the end of the war in ‘98 or before their death? What was important and formative for them?
     Born a few months after the end of world war two and the capture of Gellert Grindlewald meant Amelia grew up in both the bliss of peace and the pain of rebuilding. She’d listen to stories of war from the other children and overheard her mother and father discussing it sometimes. She remembered the celebrations from the 10th anniversary of war’s end and attended many memorials of those who had fallen, both muggle and magical alongside her family.
When war came to the Wixen World once more it was much less kind to the Bones. Her parents were cut down in their family home by Voldemort himself, her brother, his wife and his children slaughtered in their home. She constantly thought back to nights her father would tell her she’d never have to suffer at the hands of another war and swore she’d do whatever was necessary that the last living grandchild of his got to live that promise.
Amelia lived alone in a small home just outside of London. She’d brought it just after the first war as she climbed the ministry ranks. It made the commute to and from work much faster and proved a safe, new home with no memories attached to it.
Most of Amelia’s time was filled with work and family. She had the odd girlfriend here and there but no relationship ever lasted more than a year. She was far too dedicated to her job or her family.
Amelia’s job was incredibly important. She held the line against Fudges conspiracy theory lies. Called him out behind closed doors at every opportunity. Made her dislike and disapproval known. She was a Bones after it, it meant something in the Ministry. There were rumours that if Albus Dumbledore wasn’t going to take the position of Minister, she would. And she might have, had she lived long enough. She was preparing for it, to challenge him, and all other comers. After it was proven that Voldemort was well and truly alive and Cornelius Fudge had wasted precious time denying it out of fear , she had planned to oust him if he wouldn’t resign. Take a vote to the Wizenagemont, remove him due to his incompetence. She was killed the evening before her vote was due to hit the floor.
OOC EXPLORATION
WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?
The after hogwarts golden trio aspect drew me in first. Then when I read the plot more and more the idea of “returned” got me more and more interested. My favourite AU plots in group rps have always been the “What if a character who has died returned?? What happens to your character?” I adore exploring that whole new side of them.  It opens up things, plots, ideas, developments, that a traditional style of RP wouldn’t
EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS
CHARACTER CONTRIBUTION
How do you see this character adding to the community and the plot?
Bringing in Amelia is similar to bringing in Edgar. It brings a Bones from that era to the story and offers connections for Susan and characters in the Marauders Era. Bringing her would also add a character who is incredibly familiar with the structure of the Ministry and a depth of knowledge in her field.
PRESENT One paragraph about your character’s life right now and how they are handling the current events of the game.
“You died, Ma’am”
The words were on constant repeat in her mind. What did they mean she died? She was alive right now, she was breathing, her heart beating. She was here. Except she last remembered it being 1996. They tell her it’s 2002. She died six years ago. Her last memory was fighting Voldemort, a loud bang, stumbling to the floor and then she woke up in the Death Chamber. A room she had both the privilege and horror of recognising. It made sense in a way. The last thing she remembered was being in her home but awoke in the Ministry but it was so hard to understand. How? Why? Everyday was a repeat of the same questions in her mind. She does her best not to dwell on it, knowing that now isn’t the time nor place to do so. Getting herself grounded, back into the world that she had no idea she left. Returning to her family. That was her first goal. Working everything else out will come later.
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merigreenleaf · 4 years
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Unexpected Inspiration Character Backstory: Blythe’s Past
It was pretty, really, the way the molten glass exploded across the room. In places it dripped, in places it pinged. A droplet hit Blythe's hand and she brushed it off before it could harden, then brushed a few more off her shirt as it was smoldering. The glassmaker gasped and snatched her hands away before she could clear off the rest. She turned Blythe's hands over to look at the palms. Okay, so they were slightly red. A few welts were already fading. Nothing big. Blythe rolled her eyes as she pulled her arms back. She'd always healed quickly and a brief touch of hot glass barely registered as pain. The real problem was that this was another mistake in a series of mistakes. If it turned out she didn't have magic and couldn't do anything with art besides make a scribble, a din, a tangle, or an explosion, she was going to have to live with her aunt. A week in her company was long enough to know that was the last thing she wanted. -Excerpt from an early draft of Colorweaver (book 1)
Blythe had a fairly normal Concordian childhood, but in a different way than Adair. While he grew up in a small town, she grew up in the capital city. He comes from a family of Artisans, the artists and craftspeople who have magic, while Blythe's parents and the community she grew up in were Protectorates, the elite group trained to guard art and protect artists. He had a huge, sprawling family. Blythe only ever had her father. 
(More)
Blythe's father became a single parent after her mother passed away shortly after her birth. As a Protectorate who guarded trade shipments, Blythe's mother should never have been traveling so far from healers so late in her pregnancy. But, like her daughter, stubbornness was her defining trait. Truth be told, her father also possessed it in abundance and he was the biggest influence in Blythe's life. Blythe looked up to him: he was strong, brave, kind, and driven to succeed in whatever he did. With his blessing, she began training and studying to be a Protectorate from a young age, until his stubbornness got the better of him, too. As a single parent, his assignment should never have been dangerous. Blythe never learned the details, no matter how much she looked into this later as an adult, and at the age of thirteen was orphaned. She had hoped to be adopted by her father's closest friends until an aunt showed up to claim her. Blythe had no choice but to go with her after she failed every test to see if she had artist magic. Had Blythe shown signs of this, she could have stayed in Concordia. She didn't particularly want artist magic, but would have preferred this to having to leave the country with a family member she had never met, who she disliked immediately.
Her uncle had been the Concordian diplomat to the neighboring country of Galanvoth for several years, long enough that Blythe had barely any memory of him. Blythe didn't mind his company and would not have minded Galanvoth so much had he not been gravely ill. He had been sick for a long time, according to her aunt, and after he passed in the same year as his brother, Blythe's aunt became her lone remaining family member. Blythe was miserable. She wanted nothing more than to return to Concordia and her training as a Protectorate. Her aunt, meanwhile, was determined to turn Blythe into a perfect Named Galanvoy citizen, the perfect house-spouse to one day marry off for political advantage. Something about her aunt rubbed Blythe the wrong way and it always seemed strange to her that no one else saw her aunt the way she did.
This misery lasted only for a few weeks, weeks which were filled with arguments and teenage rebellion, before Blythe snuck out into parts of the city her aunt would never visit. There she saw medics clandestinely helping sick and injured No-Names, people without the protection of a recognized family lineage. This was a thing Blythe could do that would both spite her aunt and give her a purpose until she came of age and could leave! The busy medics brushed the teenager off at first, until her stubbornness got them to see how hard she was willing to work. She got little sleep in those few years, being dragged around to social events and "taught" by her aunt by day, working with the medics and reading their medical tomes by night and whenever she could sneak away from her aunt. Medicine became her focus the way guard training had when she was younger and within a few years she had the culture's equivalent of a medical degree. Before too long the medics realized that she likely possessed magical healing, something not native to Galanvoth. They urged her to find a way back to Concordia for training, a difficult trick with the border closed and Blythe still underage.
Blythe's escape eventually came in the form of a traveling carnival troupe, one of the few Concordian groups allowed to cross the border. It wasn't quite what her Protectorate training had prepared her for, but her experience with blades made her a passable performer. It was there she met Dray who, after a short conflict where they both thought they were competing for the same act as blade-dancers, became her performance partner and sibling-by-choice. Shortly after joining the carnival, she apprenticed to the troupe's healer, who became her friend and mentor and taught her the basics of magical healing.
After acquiring this particular medical license fairly quickly since she was already a trained medic and only needed to learn the magic side, she decided on a focus to study. She picked trans health because the two most important people in her life - - Dray and her mentor Wysta-- were transgender. She took a hiatus from the troupe in order to study, and returned to the capital city where she had grown up. Blythe, being Blythe, decided that while she was there, she may as well do the equivalent of a double major and pick up where she had left off with Protectorate training. By the time she got her second medical degree, she had passed the tests for the Protectorate rank. With these skills acquired and needing a break from academia for a while, she went back to her carnival troupe. There she became the assistant healer to her mentor while she tried to decide what she wanted to do with her career.
What she no longer had, however, was a sibling. She discovered that while she was gone, Dray had left the troupe to become a solo performer. Dray hadn't bothered to tell her. She heard nothing from them except a few stilted letters that sounded nothing like the verbose and argumentative sibling she had left behind. There was never an address to send anything back to, not with Dray on the road. She tried to keep herself busy by helping the troupe and almost managed to convince herself that she wasn't hurt by Dray's actions. She knew as much about Dray's past as they were willing to tell anyone and had picked up pieces of memories while healing them, so she suspected why Dray had left and understood the reason. This didn't make her happy, though. When Etri and Sol joined the troupe a few months later, she essentially became Sol's personal healer as she patched him up after every failed invention and bad idea. Before too long the twins became as close to her as she had been with Dray, and when Adair wandered into the carnival and needed help getting back his stolen art, she and the twins readily agreed to help. Blythe was less than happy when the search led the four to cross paths with Dray almost immediately. Communication had never been her or Dray's strong suit and it took a while before they were able to get back to where they had left off.
Her found family gave Blythe some much-needed direction. It might just be possible to be a healer, a performer, and a Protectorate. As Adair’s sentinel, the significant other to an artist with magic, she can use her guard training as the highest ranking level of Protectorate. Adair is free to travel with a carnival troupe, unlike most Artisans who choose to live in the capital city, because he's a cartographer. This would be the perfect solution if fate didn't have other things in mind than letting the five stay carnies.
--------------------------
This is the next in the series of backstory moodboards I’m doing about the dorks. I have one for Addy here, two for Dray here and here, and one for Rosalie & Camille here. I’ll be sharing Blythe’s updated character bio board later this week. :)
This was made for @homesteadchronicles theme “teaching and education” because who better to use this week than the overachiever who technically has three degrees lol
Tagging my series tag list. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list and please definitely tag me in writing things you share, too! 
@homesteadchronicles @ageekyreader @lynnafred @the-gay-hufflepuff @oceanwriter @desperatlytryingtowriteabook @muffindragon227 @theguildedtypewriter @toboldlywrite @wchwriter @dreameronthewind @shadow-maker @pen-for-sword @loopyhoopywrites @emptymanuscript @madmoonink @perringwrites @megan-cutler @elliot-orion @thatwriternamedvolk @indecentpause @writer-on-time @ravenpuffwriter @siarven @musicismymoirail @lady-redshield-writes @bluemartlet @reeseweston @worldbuildingwren @hiddswritingrefs @cay--scribbles @focusdumbass @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword-d @enasroterfaden @missrobinswritings @joshuaorrizonte @zofiehelen @kainablue @kalis-scribbles @inspirited-goddess
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tinsley-goldsworth · 4 years
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clockwork
summary: francesca watches ricky and tinsley’s relationship develop as the clock ticks by (week 22 of my 30 weeks of prompts challenge: clocks) 
(read on ao3!) 
wc: 1558
Francesca Norris has known Ricky Goldsworth for a very long time. She knew him when they were both innocent children who were too young to understand the horrors of the world. They both enjoyed going to elementary school together, and, when asked about their parents, they both always answered with the same “they work in business” phrase because, in reality, their parents’ jobs were very complicated.
Ricky’s mother Lucy Goldsworth was a famous criminal who was infamous for her reasonable rates and efficiency. When someone needed something illegal to be done, Lucy was always the person people went to. Her husband, Ricky Goldsworth’s dad, was a mobster that he worked with Lucy but ending up running off, hence Ricky’s daddy issues. On the other hand, Francesca’s mother was an infamous spy who was well known for her problems with authority and Francesca’s father was a journalist who was not observative at all.
Francesca’s mother met Lucy on a mission once and they both became fast friends, bonding over their shared hate of government officials. Ricky and Francesca became friends because they saw each other so often when their mothers met up to discuss how dumb politicians were. 
There was no surprise that both mothers were killed during missions and that left a very important decision for Ricky and Francesca. They had to decide whether they wanted to pursue a different path from their parents or take over their jobs. To this day, Francesca still has no idea whether Ricky influenced her or she influenced him, but somewhere along the line, they both agreed to follow in their mothers’ footsteps, becoming “bad people”, instead of ending what their mothers had started.
Ricky has always been cold, even before he started killing people for cash. His cold behavior makes it clear he always destined to take on his mother’s job. Even as a child, he had little remorse to show for other children who were in his way and while he didn’t exactly deal with them by stabbing them, Ricky was still shoved them out of his way with the aggression he would use to stab somebody. Francesca, on the other hand, was responsible for talking the teacher out of punishing Ricky, which is how she realized that she had a hidden power of sweet-talking and persuasion. 
Unsurprisingly, as Ricky spent more time doing his job, he grew more apathetic and whatever little sympathy he had in his heart seemed to have shriveled up and died. Francesca knew that his job required him to practically be drained of any emotion but she was alarmed by the fact that Ricky somehow grew colder as he grew more powerful. 
However, Francesca’s alarm disappeared the day that Ricky stopped by her house for their weekly weekend conversation about life updates and such, since the two still remained best friends even after their new jobs dominated their lives. Francesca was adjusting the position of her clock on the wall (the time read 9:14 at night) when she heard a knock on the door. 
The moment Ricky opened the door, Francesca knew that something was up with him. Her instinctive habits of reading people kicked in and she began noting all the signs, connecting them as she went along. Ricky’s top button was unbuttoned and he never left his top unbuttoned unless he was trying to impress somebody, which he didn’t really need to do in order to attract business since he was pretty well known in the criminal world already. So, this meant that he left his top button unbuttoned for somebody who he was not working with, possibly as a means to express subtle romantic interest.
Before Francesca could scrutinize any further details, Ricky made the connections for her when he took off his blazer and excitedly exclaimed, “You won’t believe what happened today! I met the dumbest, but also cutest, detective today when I was working on an assignment somebody gave to me and apparently, somebody else tipped the authorities off about the assignment so C.C. Tinsley was there and he was definitely not the detective to send because first of all, those long legs are totally wasted if he’s just standing around solving cases all the time and second of all, he got really distracted by my flirting and I managed to slip away with the goods before he could notice. He was really cute though, I’m thinking about seeing him again.”
Ricky paused his rambling to catch his breath and Francesca was shocked into utter silence. She hadn’t heard Ricky talk about anybody so passionately ever in their countless years spent together and she seemed to be unable to process the notion that Ricky Goldsworth wasn’t completely emotionless. Maybe Ricky had finally lost his mind after years of trauma from the horrors he witnessed during his assignments; that would be a more reasonable explanation than the suggestion that Ricky might be catching romantic feelings for somebody. 
“I’m going to take your silence as support. I’m going to see him again, and hopefully ask him out, and maybe this can go somewhere,” Ricky concluded before he took out Francesca’s knife-sharpening tools from her cabinet. Normally, Francesca would’ve teasingly rolled her eyes since he always used her knife-sharpening tools, even though he had a perfectly functioning set at home. Instead, she was still so shocked that she just watched Ricky sharpen knives as he hummed happily to himself.
~
The next time Ricky spoke about C.C.Tinsley, Francesca was just about to go to sleep. It was 1:32 am and frankly, Francesca was more than ready to go to sleep after a long day of staying in disguise for her latest mission. She just finished removing her wig when she received an incoming call from Ricky. Usually, Ricky preferred to stop by to chat so this meant that Ricky either had something urgent to say or something extremely quick. 
Nevertheless, Francesca picked up just in case the case was the former and, just her luck, the case was the latter. Before Francesca could even ask Ricky why he was calling her, Ricky began rambling about C.C. Tinsley.
“Guess what? I talked to him again and convinced him to go out on a date with me! It’s going to be great. But I mean, I obviously maintained my cool and stayed calm but I’m really excited! I know you’re probably planning to sleep right now so sorry for calling you but I just wanted to give you an update! Good night!”
Francesca was very certain that Ricky was either possessed, had too much sugar, or was truly infatuated with this detective for him to sound so energetic at 1:32 in the early morning.
That was not the only instance where Ricky contacted Francesca in the dead of night (or extremely early in the morning). At 3:25 am on a Wednesday night, Francesca woke up since her mission started at 5:30 and she needed two hours in order to get into her disguise. She received a chain of text messages from Ricky about C.C. yet again. This time, it was about how C.C. agreed to finally move up to boyfriend status.
As Francesca put her lipstick on, she read the enthusiastic texts that were all punctuated with several exclamations marks and random keyboard smashes to express the feeling of being overwhelmed with emotions. She was glad that Ricky hadn’t started using emojis to unironically express himself because that would be the most concerning action out of all the actions he did so far. Francesca replies with a few words of encouragement and then told Ricky to sleep and save his love for later.
There were so many more instances where Ricky talked to Francesca about his boyfriend. He invited her to his housewarming party when he and C.C. moved in together at 12:34 am on a Sunday night (technically Monday morning). He also sent her photos from his first vacation with C.C. in some secluded place in the middle of nowhere that had breathtaking views at 7:45 on a Tuesday evening. 
The most memorable one was the most recent one, which was exactly at 2:45 in the early morning when Francesca received a call from Ricky. She predicted that it would be about Tinsley and she picked up, half-awake. “Hey Ricky, what’s up?”
“Fran, I’m getting married! I just proposed to Tinsley and he said yes. Would you like to be my best man? Well, I mean, technically you’d be my best woman and it goes against tradition but screw tradition.”
“Are you kidding me? I’d love to!” Francesca practically squealed, standing up as joy coursed through her veins. “I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!”
This is what led to Francesca standing at the altar, giving a speech about the specific times that Ricky talked about his fiancé and how the clock seemed to play an important role in the evolution of their relationship. She finished her speech and Ricky and C.C. finally got married after years of being in love at exactly 6:19 in the evening on a Sunday. Their relationship was the definition of clockwork and Francesca felt a little emotional at the thought of her being able to see how they decide to write their future.
~
click the link in bio for more bfu fics!
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lightsburnbrite · 4 years
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Things We Do for Love: Part 2
(Third part to Such a Thrill and The Devil is in the Details)
As the months passed, Leon slowly started to form normalcy. His apartment resembled more of a bachelor’s pad as Karina’s personal items were removed. In an effort to get his mind off of things, it wasn’t uncommon for two or three of Leon’s friends to come and stay for weeks at a time and he genuinely appreciated the company but it didn’t replace the fact that Karina was gone. Mathea, never one to miss an opportunity, soon moved herself in and resumed her role as the doting girlfriend.
“Ha! I’ve found her.”
Leon let the basketball rebound off the floor before holding it still. Putting the net up in the living room seemed like both his best and worst idea to date. “What? Found who?”
“Karina.” Sebastian called back out. He wasn’t Leon’s official agent, but he acted in a managerial capacity in addition to being Leon’s close friend. “She’s listed on the website as the Associate Curator of European Art.”
Leon put the ball down and walked over to the sofa where Sebastian was lounging. He stopped short, trying to decide if he would feel better knowing where Karina was or if he would feel worse. “What website?”
“AGO.” Sebastian looked up from the screen at Leon. “Does Marius really not know where she is?”
Leon shook his head. “No. Their parents haven’t come out and said it but he figured they’d cut him off too if he tried to get in touch with her. What does AGO stand for?”
“Art Gallery of Ontario.” He turned his laptop towards Leon. “As in Ca-na-da, eh?”
Leon smirked at Sebastian’s over pronunciation but he couldn’t help but smile at Karina’s picture placed alongside her bio. She looked essentially the same, her hair might have been a bit longer and she had it straightened in this picture, but she looked genuinely happy. Leon knew that Karina had a “professional smile” that she used to counteract her natural inclination to frown but the smile she wore in her picture proved her to be happy and proud of this new position.
“Oh damn,”
Leon turned back to Sebastian who was on his phone now. “What now?”
“Looks like she’s got a new…” Sebastian hesitated. “Well, have a look.”
Sebastian had pulled facebook up on his phone but he didn’t know the person who’s profile it was. It was a picture of a group of six people at what looked to be an outdoor wedding reception, the bride and groom were placed in the middle with two people on either side. Karina stood to the very right, tucked neatly against the side of man who looked to be about the same age, her hand resting on his chest while his was placed low on her hip. Again, Karina smiled brightly while the man had more of a smirk and that instantly put Leon off him. He had been hoping maybe she was just the man’s plus one as a favor but then he read the caption and his heart sank.
Happy Siblings Day to these two weirdos. Loved having everyone together again at my wedding. Loved it even more that we finally got to meet baby brother’s new girlfriend who is the sweetest!
“What’s his name?” Leon looked over to Sebastian again. “Can you tell?”
Sebastian took his phone back and shrugged. “Look at the tagged names. Obviously we know Karina’s and if they are siblings then look for last names that are the same. Here we go…Cosmo is your guy. Or, I guess it’s more like her guy. Heh. What the fuck kind of name is Cosmo.”
Leon groaned but curiosity eventually got the better of him. At various points throughout the day, he was looking through multiple forms of social media belonging to a floppy haired hipster that had somehow caught Karina’s eye. He was mainly active on instagram, posting random landscapes and other seemingly artistic compositions. Leon was relieved that he didn’t see any pictures of Karina on there but when he came across a few pictures of Elsa, that was somehow worse. It had now become a serious relationship in his mind because Karina had allowed her beloved dog around this man.
Karina had effectively vanished from the face of the Earth in the 14 months since she left Leon. At first, Leon thought she had just blocked him but when she ‘liked’ one of his posts about a charity endeavor he and Joshua were working on, Leon realized she had just been silent. That initial ‘like’ broke the seal, it seemed, and just like that, she became active again. There were a few selfies and a few more pictures of Elsa but then came the pictures of Elsa and the new boyfriend. It wasn’t a blatantly obvious picture of the two of them, but he recognized the fragment of a roman numeral tattoo he had on his arm from other pictures.
While laying in bed one night, Leon was scrolling through pictures. Mathea moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, um..” Leon cleared his throat and thought of how he could explain that he was essentially stalking the new love interest of his estranged wife. “Karina has a new boyfriend.”
Mathea took his phone and looked at pictures of the two of them and sneered. “He’s got a big nose. Whatever, you’re hotter.”
It made Leon feel at least a bit better to hear her say that, but there was now way Mathea could be objective. He had decided to give Karina a call and see if she would actually answer. Karina had donated a sizable amount to his charity and calling to say thank you seemed to be a good reason. To his surprise, she answered.
“Hi Leon, what’s up?”
He instantly smiled. “Hey, Maus. I, uh, wanted to say thank you for your donation. That was really generous of you.”
“Of course.” She held the phone away and coughed. “You and Joshua are doing great things, I’m happy to help.”
“Right…” He nodded even though she wouldn’t be able to see him. He wanted to say it was good to hear her voice, that he was happy she was ok and hoped she was doing well but all of a sudden, the words came before he had the chance to stop himself. “Mathea found your wedding dress the other day. I guess I could ship it to you?”
“Oh, um, honestly, I don’t want it back. You can do what you want with it.” She hesitated. “Listen, Leon, I was thinking it’s time that we finalize things. We’re kinda in limbo right now and I think we both just need to move on. I’m going to be in Munich next week, would you be able to meet with our lawyers?”
Leon let out a sigh. She was right, but it still hurt him to hear it. “Um, yeah. We can do that.”
They sat in a meeting room around a circular table and had an unsurprisingly civil conversation.
“I see that you maintained separate accounts so that makes the division of assets somewhat more straightforward.” Leon’s lawyer shuffled some papers before addressing Karina specifically. “Will you be petitioning for spousal support, Ms. Müller?”
Karina shook her head. “No. I’m not asking for anything, I just want this to be finalized so we can move on.”
His lawyer nodded. “And you are fine with returning the ring and vacating the residence?”
“My client has already returned the ring and has maintained a residence in Toronto for the past year.” Karina’s lawyer interjected now. “We are mainly concerned with making sure that your client will not be trying to get anything from Ms. Müller.”
“I see there is a dog, was the animal obtained together-”
“Elsa belongs to Karina. I’m not contesting that.” Leon spoke up. “Any piece of artwork too, it’s all hers.”
“Ok,” Karina’s lawyer responded. “Both parties agree to part with what they entered the marriage with. Is this correct?”
“I don’t know…I guess i just feel like…” Leon sighed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel like we’re rushing things along.”
Karina sat perfectly still in the chair next to him, straight as a pin. “Leon, we’ve been separated for over a year, it’s time for us to move on.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Leon sighed again and tried to wrap his mind around how their relationship had progressed to this point. “Alright. What do you need me to sign?”
Once the papers were signed and notarized, their lawyers shook hands and departed leaving Leon and Karina to sit in silence.
“Do, um…” Leon was getting frustrated with how hesitant he was feeling. “Would you want to get dinner tonight?”
Karina opened her mouth before frowning slightly. “Leon, that sounds very nice but I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.”
“Yeah, I get that. It’s just this feels like a shitty way to close things.” He shrugged. “I thought this would be an ok way to make it up to you.”
She started to say that there was no need to make anything up to her, she held no ill will towards him but ultimately she thought better of it and simply nodded. Karina would have rather done anything else than to sit down to dinner with him but considered it one last good faith effort before moving on completely.
Leon set the reservations at the restaurant of the Charles hotel where Karina was staying. He had done so out of convenience for Karina, she knew that, but she also knew he had probably forgotten the time when they sat in the same restaurant and she confessed that she was hopelessly in love with him.
With a sigh, she pulled a simple black shirt dress from the closet and made sure it hadn’t gotten too wrinkled in travel. After deciding that her hair and makeup were fine, Karina checked at the front desk but was shown to the table despite Leon having not arrived yet.
She glanced over the menu but didn’t see anything that really jumped out at her so she let her eyes wander around the restaurant. Karina looked up towards the entrance just in time to see Leon holding the door open for Mathea who was wearing the same dress Karina wore to their wedding. Seeing the two of them walk in together caused Karina’s stomach to plummet to the floor. She saw a server pass and she held up one finger to flag him down. “I’m sorry, could I get a double vodka soda with a slice of lemon, please? Thanks.”
She stood as they were ushered to the table, avoiding any sort of eye contact as they sat down.
Leon smiled and placed a hand on her forearm. “You look great, Mausi.”
Karina smiled but more out of a desire to be polite. Mathea being there to begin with put her on edge, but the display of affection from Leon only made it worse.
Mathea didn’t pass up the opportunity to look her over from head to toe, ending her gaze with a smirk. “Do you ever wear anything with color?”
“Rarely.” Leon had to stop himself from laughing as Karina delivered the line deadpan.
Her expression turning to a sneer, Mathea would not let Karina get away with besting her. “You look like a nun only there’s the problem of your devil worship-”
“Mathea, enough.” Leon cut in now, attempting to keep a somewhat civil conversation.
“It’s nice to see you as well, Mathea.” Karina offered a kind but entirely forced smile. “A bit unexpected if I do say so, especially in that dress.”
Mathea grinned. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? I needed to have it taken in, I was practically swimming in it before!”
Leon immediately ducked his head. “Sorry, I thought you’d be bringing…sorry.”
“Bringing who?” She pressed him, curious as to who Leon would have had in mind.
He inhaled deeply. “I thought your boyfriend would have come with you.”
“Nope. Just me.” Karina forced a smile. “No boyfriend.”
“Hmm.” Mathea smiled more smugly now. “That’s a shame. Leon and I just got back from Ibiza, we had a great time together with Marius.”
“Lovely.” Karina nodded slightly, attempting not to bristle at the mention of her brother. “Glad you had fun.”
Leon went on about various events and goings on, seemingly oblivious to Mathea’s desire to agitate Karina and Karina’s subsequent distress.
“You know,” Mathea looked over to Leon and smiled fondly. “I’ve always wanted to see what you call ‘the big house’. I’ve always wondered of it really was that big.”
Leon hesitated, knowing that would be a sore spot. “No, that’s not really-”
“It's being rented, actually,” Karina hadn’t intended it to be a jab but the shocked look plastered on Mathea’s face was incredible satisfying. “About eight months ago.”
Mathea shook her head. “No, you had no right to do that without consulting us. What if we wanted to use it? I thought it would make a nice setting for a wedding.”
“A wedding…” She spoke softly and did her best not to show her irritation that Mathea was even part of this discussion. “It's my house, my estate. I discussed my thoughts with Olga and she was ready to move on as well. Apparently Marwin told her that he didn’t want me to feel weighed down by the house and should sell it if I wanted to. I thought about that but I didn't want to part with it because of my memories with Marwin there.”
It wasn't intentional, but Karina enjoyed watching Leon flinch when she mentioned wanting to hold on to her memories of Strohmann.    
“But you were married. Leon should have gotten half.” Mathea was practically scowling now. “Or spousal support.”
Leon held his hands up. “No. There is no reason for me to ask anything of Karina just because she’s worth more than I am. I’m not going to be petty or vindictive because you want a bigger place to live.”
The waiter had arrived with Karina’s drink and prepared to take their orders as well when she stopped him. “Thank you, but I think I’m actually just going to take this to my room. If you could charge their meal to my room as well?”
Slightly dumbfounded, the waiter nodded as Karina stood and raised her glass to Mathea and Leon. “Enjoy.”
Back in her room, Karina drained her glass quickly. The alcohol hit her hard on an empty stomach but it wasn’t enough to numb her yet. She grabbed the room service menu and ordered a dinner she would appreciate much more than anything at Sofia’s and a bottle of Prosecco to wash it down with.
Leon was visibly sullen for the rest of the evening which only frustrated Mathea.
“What are you so pissed about?” Mathea sat in the passenger seat and sulked.
It took Leon a minute to respond. “You could have pretended to be nice.”
“Sorry? I just figured we’re never going to like each other and we’re never going to see her again so why bother?” She reached over and rested her hand on his thigh. “Besides, we can actually talk about getting married now.”
Leon didn’t respond. He figured it would be better to wait to tell her that he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to get married again.
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theholycovenantrpg · 3 years
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CONGRATULATIONS, JENNA! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF BASTIEN AVALOS.
Admin Rosey: Jenna, I cannot emphasize enough how in love I am with the way that you captured Bastien. He was one of the characters that is driven singularly by passion and impulse, and he is the one character that takes a person’s heart and never lets go of it until he tires, then goes for another. From your ideas for development, to the para sample - this application holds you captive just as Bastien does. The Holy Land isn’t ready for Bastien to enter center stage, but boy, I definitely am. Thank you for this wonderful application - and please, be handle our hearts gently...before smashing them to pieces.  Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!
OUT OF CHARACTER
Alias | Jenna Age | 21 Personal Pronouns | she/they Activity Level | My activity really varies throughout the week! I work on weekdays ( gross, I know ), and am also completing an honours degree this year so will mostly be around on evenings and on the weekends!! My aim is usually to get on for replies every couple of days, but I generally make myself available for plotting every day! Timezone | gmt+10 Triggers | REMOVED. How did you find the group?  | in the tags! but I recognised your names from diverona and just knew I had to apply!! Current/Past RP Accounts | https://marymacd.tumblr.com/ // https://leonagw.tumblr.com/
IN CHARACTER
Character | Bastien Avalos
What drew you to this character? | Wow, okay, where do I begin? Bastien is a very different character to the ones I usually play, and I think I was initially drawn to his recklessness. Bastien doesn’t just flirt with danger - he courts it, and I find this very fascinating as I’ve always tended to play very strategic, cautious, and calculated characters in the past, which Bastien just isn’t. I think there’s lots of potential to develop him as a character - both in the way of coming to terms with his past and exploring the events that have brought him to where he is, and in terms of his future - now that he’s had his autonomy ripped from him and burdened with a responsibility he never wanted, and one that he’s quite ill-equipped for, there’s definitely a lot of room to develop him in very interesting ways.
I’m also drawn to the idea of portraying a mortal walking among immortals - and yet, having very little regard for his own mortality. He’s spent his whole life running headfirst into danger - picking fights he knows he won’t win just for the sheer thrill of it - just to get a few battle scars and a great story at the end of it. It’s fascinating to me that, out of all the characters in this group, he’s perhaps the most vulnerable due to his status as mortal, and yet he acts as though he’s unbreakable, living life with a sort of heedlessness that is so uniquely human. He’s aware of his limited lifespan in comparison to those around him, but he’s determined to do as much as he possibly can with the time he has, to ensure that he leaves a great story behind when he goes.
What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |
001. SINS OF THE FATHER - Listen, the potential to explore Bastien’s relationships with his family was far too rich and complex for me to pass up putting it first. Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? Bastien killed his father - obviously, it was in defence of his mother, and I don’t necessarily think that he regrets what he did ( only that it put him into a position of power and left him responsibility he is neither equipped nor wanting to handle ), but it definitely has left an impact on him. Though not specifically mentioned in his bio - I think it’s very unlikely that Bastien has told anyone what really happened that night ( the family probably lied it away, that the former Lord Avalos was murdered by someone seeking some kind of retribution before fleeing in the night, never to be seen again ), and I think it would be very interesting to see how this guilt plays on him, and how he struggles with having to feign anger at the mystery of his father’s demise while knowing full well what really happened. Yes, Bastien may be a dumbass, but he’s not as stupid as everyone thinks, and he knows that the truth of what happened to his father coming out would be bad not only for him, but for his whole family, and he’s going to do whatever it can to keep the secret from surfacing, even if that means lying to the ones closest to him ( of course….. I, personally, would love for people to find out what happened to his father eventually, the drama of it all is too much to pass on ).
I would also love to explore how the death of his father has shaped his relationships with the rest of his family - his mother in particular. Though his sisters may have their suspicions, I also feel that they’re likely as in the dark as anyone else regarding the circumstances of their father’s death ( and, honestly, he wasn’t a particularly nice man, so none of them have any intention of digging any deeper into it ). However, Bastien’s mother knows exactly what happened, and, more importantly, why. I’d honestly love to explore the idea of her being angry with Bastien for what he did - for jeopardising the family name and putting himself in harm’s way yet again, despite it being to save her life. In my head, she cares more about Bastien’s wellbeing than her own, and thinks that what he did was a mistake that he didn’t think through ( which, to be fair, he did not ). Also, now that Bastien is Lord Avalos - how does this change their relationship? It’s a responsibility he never wanted, but one that his mother insisted he must take on after the death of his father. I think there’s the potential for a lot of resentment to build between them, which is particularly interesting ( and sad ) because I think they have always had a fairly strong relationship throughout Bastien’s youth and early adulthood.
002. ADAM & EVE - Let’s! Talk! About! Evangeline! In all seriousness, I think that the relationship between Basien and Evangeline has so, so much potential and is definitely one of the main reasons I was drawn to the character in the first place. I mean, best friends who are practically closer than family is one of my favourite tropes. I really think of Evangeline as being one of the only things that really keeps Bastien grounded - he’s reckless and foolish at the best of times, and she has the potential to be a counter to this rashness. At the same time, Bastien’s immaturity ( for lack of a better word ) can help lift Evangeline and invite some youthfulness into both of their lives. I don’t want to infer too much about their past or their current relationship, as this is obviously something I want to discuss with Evangeline’s mun, but I do want to discuss the secrets that Bastien is keeping from Evangeline. For one, their connection states that he knows the truth about what happened to Evangeline’s parents, something she herself doesn’t know, and something he’s been keeping from her ( for what he believes to be her own good - but, really, shouldn’t Evangeline get to be the judge of that? ).
But, what happens when she finds out what really happened, and that her best friend has been lying to her for so long? Again, I don’t want to assume anything as this is entirely up to Evangeline’s mun, but I do think there is the potential for some drama™ here. Bastien didn’t do what he did for bad reasons, he’s not a sinister character, and he genuinely thought he was doing the right thing - but I can definitely see a world where it doesn’t come across this way. Along the same lines, I think that if Bastien was going to tell anyone about what happened to his father, it would be Evangeline. I don’t imagine that he’s told her yet, but I can definitely see this as a possibility. I think he would be worried about how she would react, and I can really see it going either way ( again, this is all subject to the interpretation of Evangeline’s mun ), but her reaction ( especially in light of what happened to Lady Treme ) is again, something which could be very interesting to explore.
003. A SEAT AT THE TABLE - Does Bastien deserve a seat at the Round Table? Absolutely not. Will he work hard to ensure he is respected and taken seriously? Also no. Bastien and responsibility are two things that nobody would have ever previously thought to associate. Growing up, Bastien seemed to exist on the periphery of his father’s world, a reckless kid always looking for trouble and never bothering to learn from his mistakes - he was an unwelcome stain on an otherwise pristine Avalos legacy. Nobody in any position of power thought to take the former Lord Avalos’ heir seriously, and perhaps many of them prayed the father world outlive the son ( it wouldn’t have been too unreasonable an assumption to make, given the number of times Bastien would return home late at night, bloody and bruised after picking a fight with someone he shoudn’t have ). Perhaps many of them were rightfully surprised to see Bastien take his seat at the Round Table following the untimely demise of his father - perhaps they’d been expecting him to simply walk away from the responsibility, to throw in the towel and leave the Round Table without an Avalos for the first time in history.
He’d wanted to - power and responsibility weren’t well-suited to Bastien’s personality. Sure, he had a knack for military strategy, and he wasn’t a bad fighter on his own, but he never saw himself as a general, as a leader, and he certainly doesn’t see himself this way now. He’d been willing to walk away from it all, but urgent prompting from his mother forced Bastien to rethink this position and take up a seat of power that he never imagined himself holding. He’s angry, of course, that his life has been whittled down to this - that he didn’t see this coming when he’d taken his father’s life, but he’ll do it for the sake of his family. I’d love to explore Bastien’s newfound responsibilities, and how he reacts to this. There’s the potential for a great amount of resentment to form - he never wanted this life for himself, he always imagined himself surmounting to bigger and better things, and, yes, he’s angry that he has to spend his days playing politics when he could be out exploring the world and living a life worthwhile.
I do see a possibility of it all becoming too much for Bastien - of him wanting to give up and escape and start anew. I’m not really sure how this would play out, in all honesty, but I think the resentment that Bastien has towards his life and his position could be very interesting to explore. I also would love to develop Bastien’s connections with the other members of the Round Table. I don’t imagine anyone will take him very seriously, and his naivety leaves him open to manipulation and sabotage. How do the others perceive him? How will they use him? This is the aspect of Bastien that is the most vulnerable - because he has no idea what he’s doing, and I’d love to see this come back to bite him, I’d love to see someone use this to their advantage, and against Bastien’s.
004. REFLECTION OF THE PAST - Although he isn’t aware of it, Bastien’s current life isn’t his first. He’s the reincarnation of Adam - how does this affect the way that he lives? I don’t imagine that Bastien is very aware of this fact, sure, he has strange dreams from time to time, and can’t help but feel as though he’s experienced certain moments in his life beforehand, feelings so familiar that he can practically grasp them - but he never stops for long enough to think much of them. As the memories of his past life begin to come back to him more clearly, I’d really like to explore how this impacts the way that Bastien lives. Is he doomed to simply repeat the same mistakes that he made in the past, or is there room for him to forge his own destiny? I think that Bastien likes to think of himself as a free spirit - all his life, he was actively rebelling from the part that his father wished for him to play, seeking out danger and relishing in the thrill of adrenaline pumping through his veins, rather than playing politics or making power grabs or leading the military with a steady hand - I think it would come as quite a shock to him to realise that he hasn’t really been becoming his own man at all - that he was simply following in the footsteps of a past life. I think it could actually be, potentially, quite upsetting for Bastien, and trigger some serious changes and introspection on his part. Of all my plot ideas, this is probably the least fleshed out, but I really want to explore how this impacts him, as I think there’s potentially a lot of room for some serious character development on the back of him realising that he’s just a copy of someone who came before.
IN DEPTH
Driving Character Motivation | I think, more so than anything else, Bastien is driven by passion. He’s certainly not the type of person to sit around and think things through before he does them - he doesn’t consider consequences or the why of his actions until later on. He chases whatever he imagines will be the most exciting use of his time, what he thinks will make the best story later on, what will make him feel the most alive. He’s not motivated to think very far beyond what is happening right in front of him, to consider how his actions might have repercussions for himself or for others later down the track. He’s motivated to follow whatever will serve him best in any given moment - whether it be pleasure, a thrill, or material gains. He flirts with danger not to test his own mortality ( okay, a little to test his own mortality ) but because he finds there to be no better feeling than that of pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. His loyalties and beliefs come second to that search for adventure, that search for the next high, the next story, the next great escapade.
Character Traits |
+ CHARISMATIC - exercising a compelling charm which inspires devotion in others. + PASSIONATE - having, showing, or caused by strong feelings or beliefs. + OPPORTUNISTIC - exploiting immediate opportunities, especially regardless of planning or principle. - RECKLESS - heedless of danger or the consequences of one’s actions; rash or impetuous. - MERCURIAL - subject to sudden or unpredictable changes of mood or mind. - IRRESPONSIBLE - not showing a proper sense of responsibility.
In-Character Para sample |
It’s raining.
This kind of weather would usually annoy Bastien ( there’s far fewer possibilities of what to do with oneself when the weather is poorly ), but, today, he’s glad for it - while the rain mixes with tears on his mother and sisters’ faces, it manages to conceal the fact that, were it not for the unfortunate weather, Bastien’s own cheeks would be perfectly dry. His eyes are not spilling a single drop, his breath does not hitch, and his limbs only tremble from the cold - his knuckles turning white as he holds an imposing charcoal umbrella over his head.
For one normally so consumed with emotion ( one to whom anger and joy come in equal, loud measures and often within the same beat ), Bastian looks almost akin to the statues he currently finds himself surrounded by - stony faced and lifeless. Normally his face can tell a story all on its own - one of joy, or triumph, adventure, or defeat - and perhaps, to the uninformed observer, his current sterility could be chalked up to grief or to shock, but, in truth, he has quashed any emotion he might feel so as to avoid the catastrophic mistake of letting something slip that he’d prefer the public weren’t privy to. His mother had warned him - you’re grieving. You’re grieving. You’re grieving.
He wasn’t grieving.
Perhaps it should be a concern, he thinks, as he gazes at his father’s headstone ( some ironic inscription about a loving husband and father stares back at him, mockingly ), that he doesn’t feel anything akin to sorrow - the emotion he’d expect most people to feel when attending their parent’s funeral. Perhaps he should be sad - after all, this is the final day of his life as he knows it, is it not? The final day where he is able to wake up and enjoy a clean slate, to have possibilities stretched out ahead of him, tantalisingly close and yet just a stone’s throw out of reach. This ceremony marks the end of his father’s reign as Lord Avalos, and tomorrow morning, the title and responsibilities that come with it will fall to him. It’s a rather unenviable situation, he’d say.
He glances sideways at his mother - she’s sobbing quietly as one of his sisters recites some old poem. He’s suddenly angry, the desire to shake her and scream washes over him - he wasn’t a good man, mother, he had no love for us, mother, he would have killed you, mother - but then he remembers how she had screamed as Bastien plunged the dagger he’d been gifted for his twenty-fifth birthday into the heart of the man who had raised him, remembers the silence that followed as they had cleaned his blood from their clothes, and the urge goes as quickly as it had came, replaced again by stony faced resolve.
It’s been raining for the past two days, and Bastien can feel himself slowly sinking into the mud underfoot.
He’s not cut out for leadership, he thinks. Sure, he has a knack for military strategy, and a keen interest in it ( this is perhaps the only thing he and his father had had in common ), but general? A seat at the Round Table? It all seemed like too much of a stretch for the man who just a few weeks ago was picking fights with men twice his size in the city square for a bit of fun, the man who had three fake teeth because the real ones had been knocked out by quicker, stronger opponents, the man who had skirted responsibility for most of his life. If he’d had time to think, he might have tried a different method to stop his father from laying a hand upon his mother ( it had been a blur, though, adrenaline taking over and the urge to protect stronger than any rationality ) - but this was the problem, wasn’t it?
Bastien didn’t think. He never did. He’d always been a doer - acting with his heart and leaving his head to deal with the consequences later on ( if he ever did deal with them - too often it seemed he simply walked away from the messes he made, leaving a trail of skeletons behind him wherever he went, hoping desperately to outrun them lest they grab hold and pull him back down to face the music ). Now, suddenly, he’s expected to take up a position of power, of responsibility - to represent not only his family ( which he’d never done a particularly good job of ), but all of mortalkind. He’d tried to run from this, too, but sometimes fate is too powerful to escape. His mother had insisted he grin and bear his new responsibilities - he’d hurt the Avalos name enough by this point, hadn’t he?
It seems almost like a cruel twist of fate - that someone who had become so used to avoiding responsibility would be suddenly weighed down by one so great. Suddenly dashed were all of Bastien’s hopes to live life as a free man - to go where he wanted, to do as he pleased. This had never been the life he’d envisioned from himself - from the moment he could dream of something beyond himself, he’d dreamt of a life beyond all of this - beyond the rigid structure his father had long tried to force him into, beyond the rules everyone around here seemed so keen to follow blindly. He’d quickly earned the reputation of reckless, foolhardy, untoward, tempestuous, and he’d secretly reveled in it. Now, he can practically feel the eyes of his father’s former associates boring into the back of his skull - waiting for him to make a mistake, to claw their own way into power.
It’s ironic, really - they’re waiting to make him a villain, yet everything he’d done until now would suggest him to already be one.
He’s become quite accustomed to feigning grief over the past few days - it wasn’t too much of a stretch, really, he’s always been a terribly gifted liar. Not always for nefarious purposes, mind you. More often than not, his lies were altruistic in nature. He’d spin elaborate tales of grandeur and chivalry out of petty fights for his sisters and classmates. He’d convince his mother that the ghastly gash above his eye would heal up just fine ( it didn’t ) and that it didn’t even hurt ( it did ). He could brush off concern or anger or disappointment with a flash of his teeth and a little white lie, he could bounce from person to person, emotion to emotion, leaving everyone he met with a slightly different impression depending on what they wanted to see. And he could keep secrets buried deep in his chest, rotting him from the inside, when he felt they might do more harm when spoken aloud.
He could lie about this, then, too. He could lie that he was ready ( and willing ) to take on this new responsibility - just as he had feigned shock at the sight of his father’s dead body. Just as he had feigned anger that no culprit had yet been found. Just as he could feign mourning around his sisters, or remorse around his mother. Just as he could feign grief - just as he is right now, the fat droplets of rain serving as decent enough replacements for genuine tears. He’d handle this - of course he would handle this, just as he had handled everything else in his life up until now - with a laugh and a grin and a great story at the end of it.
“Bastien,” It’s his mother speaking, she tugs gently at his arm. The ceremony is over. He hadn’t even noticed that people had started to file out of the cemetery. “It’s time to go.”
Extras | Pinterest / Mock blog
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my application ( again )! I love the look of this group, and I love Bastien, and I hope I get the opportunity to write with you all soon!!
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radioactive-park · 4 years
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Dogpoo Petuski Application
IN CHARACTER:
Name: Devin “Dogpoo/Dogtooth/Dev” Petuski - I am fully aware that it isn’t his name, but I can’t take Dogpoo as a name seriously (There will be something in ‘bio’ about that)  Age: 24 years old Gender (pronouns): Cis male, he/him Sexuality: Pansexual? Bisexual? Who knows! Occupation/Role: Owns a butchery type deal. Does alright taxidermy on the side. Goes out hunting regularly.  Location/Faction: Centennial City Personality:  - Devin is at first glance, quiet and introverted. Deciding that, since he lives in the ’big,scary city’, he would rather be a loner and not speak to many people outside work circumstances. This, combined with trust issues is not a fun combo. While he does hate it sometimes, he knows that is what keeps him safe. When he does speak to people however, he does it with the utmost respect and manners. Having manners might just make someone’s day, after all. He always tries to have a very positive outlook, or well, as positive as one could be in the wasteland. Always walking with a smile on his face, but don’t be fooled into thinking that he is naïve or gullible. He is very quick to realize when he’s been lied to. - He can get very protective of who and what he cares about, to the extent that he’d rather die trying than give up what’s being protected. - He keeps his promises and stays loyal to those who stay loyal to him, until given reason not to be. - He has literally no patience for snobby/bitchy types. It is the only time he doesn’t stick to being friendly. If a snobby type enters the butchery, don’t be surprised if he tells you to fuck off.  - Unless you’ve personally hurt him a lot, he will not hold a grudge. He will shrug it off and, you guessed it, not care.  - A brave bastard. He will not even flinch if you pull a gun or knife on him (Unless you’re, as an example, a CC military type). Stupid brave, to put it simply.  - Has slight abandonment issues, but hey, can’t be abandoned if there’s nobody to abandon you. Bio (It’s not up to Gregory’s app’s standard I apologise x-x): Born and raised in Centennial city, where he still lives to this day.
At the time of his birth, Devin was nameless. His parents, back then, were completely clueless on what to name their baby boy. Like most wasteland parents they feared that he wouldn’t manage to live long. That, even when they were living inside the safe walls of the city, danger would still swoop in and take him from them. So, he was simply referred to as ’son’ and ’boy’ to start with.
His parents ran a butchery in the city, a surprisingly successful one at that. One night, when Devin was barely a year old still, his father offered to watch him while his mother was out buying a few things for the house. His father, somewhat careless, left him to crawl around and play with some things while he was busy preparing what would be sold the next day. Devin took interest in the family’s dog, who often stood by in case he could possibly get meat scraps. When the dog walked off to go outside for…business, Dev followed close by. By the time his father realized he was missing, he was just…sitting outside, playing with, you guessed it, the dog’s poop. Can’t really blame him for it, he was just a little kid. A baby. That earned him the nickname ’Dogpoo’. Originally his mother was against it, it was a very silly nickname to go by, but she was reasoned with to accept it. Said that it was only a temporary nickname. They were still unsure whether he would live past the age of 5. Nothing personal or against him, they loved him very much, but with the amount of dangers in the wasteland it was a possibility that he would die young.
That was not the case.
Through the years, to his parents’ surprise, he managed to stay alive. From a young age, he showed interest in following in his parents’ footsteps. So, they taught him everything they knew. Proper hunting, skinning, knowing what cuts are used for what, what to dispose of and watch out for, even things like sewing, reading and a hint of writing. He also learned how to cook a variety of foods from a variety of items, not only meat. He avoided joining the CC’s ranks as a guard or mercenary, rather slowly started helping more and more around the butchery. 
It took him until the age of about 11 or 12 to realize what he is called, and what it was. At 16, he also figured out that his parents weren’t sure that he would live as long as he did, which is why he didn’t really have a proper name. He hated being known only by a dumb nickname purely for his mistake as a baby. He was being mocked for it behind his back, he was sure of it. So he slowly began reading up and figuring out what he would name himself. He asked for suggestions. Wrote down possible names. Anything. If people asked about his name, about ’Dogpoo’, he would say that it was misheard. That it was actually ’Dogtooth’. He stuck with that every time he was asked. While out hunting on his own for the first time, he had his first run in with something that would not die easily by a few shots from a hunting rifle. He wasn’t afraid of it, rather cautious and curious. It wasn’t until he was pinned down, blood streaming down his face from being clawed that he realized he made a mistake getting close to it. He barely made it out alive, and if it wasn’t for the beast seeing other humans messing with it’s nest, he probably would have died right then and there. He still has the scars.  Another time, not too soon after that, he experienced radiation for the first time ever. He could feel it damaging him almost, but he would not be defeated by it. He didn’t want to become a ghoul either from making stupid decisions. This was where he started putting together gasmasks of his own design from old, broken ones he had bought, traded for or found. One was based of a dog, similar to the family dog years back. The other was based off what he called a ’tusk-beast’, a weird animal he saw in form of a broken, ruined statue in the city. Those would protect him to an extent, and hide his face.
Fast forward to 2279, almost 2280. One day, Dogpoo was left in charge of the butchery for the day, while his parents went out for their weekly hunting trip. It was a quiet day, not too much going on in terms of sales. He spent his time removing the guts from the baby gecko who would become the taxidermized mascot of sorts for the place, Steven. It started getting later and later, but rather than fearing the worst, Dogpoo accepted that his parents had possibly gotten lost, or had decided to camp out for the night. He made a promise to himself that he would keep running the family business, rather than closing it for the time being. He knew that they would be proud of him for it. Only recently, a few months back to be exact, he took the day to make it official, that he was named Devin, that nobody could argue. Not even his parents.
Up until this day, though, he is still waiting for their return. Not as Dogpoo Petuski, but as Devin Petuski.
Headcanons: - This boy has never learned to shoot anything other than a variety of hunting rifles.  - Fairly skilled with knives, cleavers and saws, only because of the butchery.  - Has a huge claw scar across his face from getting attacked by some creature while out hunting. Very self-conscious about it.  - He tends to pay others for meat, just in case it runs out or he couldn’t find anything on his own. He doesn’t care what type of meat it is, as long as it’s still semi-edible and not completely toxic it’s fine.  - Strong distaste for human flesh, but will sell it under names such as ’Squirrel-on-a-stick’ or ’Iguana bits’. What you don’t know won’t hurt you. - The uses of the gasmasks: The dog one is worn when working. The elephant one is worn when out and about, either hunting, scavenging, or whatever the case might be. It is very rare to see him in public without the masks. He wears them for various reasons - Protection against radiation, to hide his scar and to hide his embarrassment for being called and known as ’Dogpoo’ for most of his life.  - He goes by ’Dogtooth’ around strangers, such as butchery customers and traders. Only once he feels he could trust the person, or the person knows his name, he’s okay with going by ’Devin’.  - It is unknown how he keeps the place cold. He doesn’t even know. Wouldn’t catch him complaining, though. - He literally has no idea about anything or anyone outside of the CC and the small radius around it where he hunts.  - He has been trying to perfect his taxidermy technique. His only successful one so far has been a baby gecko. He stands in the corner next to the door of the butchery. Dev calls him ’Steven’. - Dev can read numbers and do basic equations (add, subtract, multiply, divide). He keeps a small notebook in which he writes down things such as expenses, money made for the day, how much he has to pay people and so on.  - No, the money made is not kept at the butchery, nor does he keep it on him. So don’t even try to rob him. - Will try to befriend anyone and everyone. Very friendly, even to those who are not friendly towards him…. In most cases.  - Seems to speak with a slight Canadian accent.  - Not afraid to get dirty - No matter if it’s mud, blood, or anything else. - This boy hasn’t had a decent haircut since he was born. When it gets too long, he cuts it himself. Send help. - He sticks to the laws, rules and regulations of the city to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.  - He is a pretty decent wasteland chef and yes, he will make you food if you ask him to. (Once again, if something needs to be changed, I have no problem with doing so)
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3wisellamas · 5 years
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Finale / Misc Boxbot and Voxman family Headcanons
First, some assorted ones based off Thank You for Watching the Show:
-Robbie and Sara are totally Boxman's grandkids, and he and PV spoil the shit out of them whenever they visit, but no single one of the gen 1 Boxbots is their parent -- all six contributed to their design, so the gen 2 bots consider them all combination moms/dads and aunts/uncles.  Though, Robbie tends to stick closest to Jethro and Raymond (especially Ray, he really looks up to him!), and Sara favors Ernesto and Shannon.
-The two of them really only fight as product tests, or for fun/combat training alongside the plaza crew -- Ernesto couldn't care less about the plaza's existence now that Boxman's gone.  They're even friends with the new KO's Bodega employees during their off-hours!  Though, whenever their grandpas visit, the two will go right into Serious Mode and try to wreck the place for real, to try and impress them.
-Darrell was the only robot that actually moved out after the finale, the rest all still live at Boxmore, even if they no longer work there.  With his business skills, he's already the most successful evil farmer (also, like, the only evil farmer, but whatever) in the Neutral Zone, and his family visits him every other weekend.
-He did get upgraded to a robo-young adult, so he could live on his own, but it's not too noticeable.  The only real differences are that he’s just a few inches taller, and now draws with colored pencils as well as crayons.
-He also took in Raymond's pet chickens.
-The bots still frequent the plaza as customers rather than just attackers now, and sometimes hang out with Enid, Rad, the backup Bodega crew, Dendy, and on occasion KO.  Raymond designs fashions for Drupe in between his band's practice sessions, and if Mr Logic gets really busy Shannon sends some of her audience members to help him out.  And, of course, Mikayla's even got a drink named after her at the cat cafe, which she stops in to order whenever she misses her feline friends (especially Teacup)!
-All those portraits, the Jethro mug, and the kitten model Mikayla that Boxman has in his house were Shucksgiving presents, as was Peej's book.  PV knocked on the door right after the kids left from celebrating with him, figuring it would be as good a time as any to finally give him that cake.
-Jethro's actually taken up gardening, and grows flowers around the factory, though they tend to die pretty fast in the windowless hallways.  He once tried to use some of Venomous' leftover gear in the labs in order to engineer them to need less sunlight, and the results were...tentacle-y.
-Boxman and Mr Logic are best friends again.  ;v;  Even if they don't often agree on things, and definitely don't work together anymore, Boxy regularly shows up at Logic's barbershop to get his hair cut and chat, and keeps him in the loop on everything that goes on with the rest of his family.
-When PV and Fink attacked the plaza in their bio-mech suits after returning to Earth, it wasn't actually the bodega employees who defeated them, but Carol, who pretty much just took one look out the window at the fight, said "Oh HECK no," and MESSED HIM UP.  Fink stayed at Boxmore while he recovered in the hospital!
And now, some older, slightly weirder heacanons that I never really bothered to post:
-Doctor Weakpoint and Lord Boxman are mother and son.  As in, yes, this person right here:
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is the kinda-joke villain who kept sending robots to destroy POINT, even after some of its original members left.  I also really like @the-golden-ghost's theory about Boxy being an ex-minion, so I think a lot of the other villains' disdain for him comes not just from him being a joke villain, but also a former HENCHMAN to a joke villain.  Plus, she was probably very busy coming up with plans to destroy POINT every single day (and rebuilding Steamborg after he got trashed), hence Boxy taking himself go-karting for each of his birthdays, and eventually leaving to become a more serious villain on his own.  
-He still calls her sometimes, and leaves lots of voicemail about how things are going at Boxmore, but she never answers or calls him back.  ;-;  She does send the kids birthday cards and candy, though, and they love their grandma a lot even if they've never been able to meet her.
-Fink did go to KO's school, like in the episode we were supposed to get.  But she was in class 6-11B, rather than 6-11A like KO and Dendy, and they just never ran into her.
-Kinda dark one, if he gets hungry enough, Darrell has no problem with trying to hunt down and eat other robots, particularly his own clones (since it's not like there's ever a shortage of him around, plus their brains are extra tasty).  Don't let him skip a meal, ever, and if you do...keep an eye on the vents.
-The entrance to Shadowy Figure's lair in Professor Venomous' house was literally just kept hidden under a rug.  He also sometimes accidentally left glorbs or his scarf around the house, since sometimes he would lose control and start to shift back to PV unexpectedly.  The only reason PV never noticed is because he's just THAT MUCH of a dumbass sometimes.
-I see that the fandom's caught on to the idea of Laserblast having a crush on Boxman long before even becoming a villain, and I LOVE it, but I raise you this:  Boxman had a huge crush on Laserblast as well when he was first starting out with villainy.  Attacking POINT with that junkfish cake may or may not have been one of his many excuses to see Laser again, and he even got some inspiration to work on laser weapons for his own creations from him.  
-Boxman already knew who PV was LONG before the man finally decided to tell him about his backstory, because of this.  
-Alternatively, the reason Boxy became a supervillain and tried to attack POINT in the first place?  Because Laserblast snubbed him for a date, solely due to the whole "heroes shouldn't date villains" thing.
-Mikayla’s head literally was prototyped using one of Boxman’s old guitars.  He doesn’t know how to play, like his sons, he just owned it to look cool.
-There was a short period of time, like three-four months, between Boxmore's completion and Lakewood Plaza Turbo's construction, in which Lad Boxman and Mr Logic actually did attack POINT and do petty villainy, in addition to their new manufacturing jobs.  Logic was the brains, coming up with lots of schemes and handling all the logistics, and Boxman was the brawn, putting together new robots to fit their needs and carrying out the actual operations.  Needless to say, NONE of their efforts were successful, or even memorable, as they were pretty easily outclassed by other, more established villains. 
-Jethro's arms and legs have been there from the beginning, and were supposed to be for an upgrade that Boxman never actually implemented.  He just didn't give enough of a shit to ever remove them from production. 
-Leggy Jethro is his real mind, and is what runs underneath the more basic programming in the rest of his hivemind.  He just never had the ability to actually come out and express himself, without the extra glorbs' energy.  The other Jethros know they're him deep down but aren't able to fully understand why they feel...different.  Not themselves.  Hence, why they keep trying to assure themselves and others that they ARE Jethro...  
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toloveawarlord · 5 years
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Behind the Times (Ch. 2)
You can find my masterlist in my bio!
Updating Aspen! I’m so glad my slump for this chapter is gone! I had everything planned out, but the words wouldn’t form just right. But finally! It’s done! Tagging @plumpblueberry for helping me to finish it! Your encouragement means the world to me!
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Struggling to keep up with the fast pace set by the Queen of Hearts, Aspen rubbed her palms into her sore thighs. It had taken ages to reach this place and each step sent a ripple of pain through her legs. Edgar had left them to inform the King of Hearts of her arrival, while Jonah insisted, she see their resident doctor. Soldiers moved from their path out of respect for their Queen, but didn’t hide their curious gazing at her, many stopping to stare even after she’d passed.
Aspen pulled the jacket tighter around her body, though it did little to cover her bare legs. The more spectators that came around, the more uncomfortable she became. Quickening to catch up with Jonah, she latched her hand onto the back of his pale pink shirt. “Can’t you make them stop staring. It’s creepy,” She muttered. It wouldn’t bother her so much if there weren’t so many gathered in the hallway… just staring. She had grown use to creepy men looking at her, but usually they went on with their business after looking.
Jonah’s amber eyes studied her for a moment over his shoulder before his sharp gaze fell on the soldiers littering the hall behind them. “Return to your duties at once. Anyone caught bother this young lady will answer directly to me, understood?” His voice carried to every soldier.
A chorus of “Yes, sir” followed, and the onlookers promptly left.
“Whoa.” Left alone with him, Aspen released her tight grip on his shirt. “You’re pretty important here, huh?” She’d never seen something like that before in real life.
“You’re beginning to understand, at least. King Lancelot holds the highest rank, I hold the second Queen and Edgar is the Jack, third highest. There are 10 others that are high ranking, everyone else are foot soldiers,” Jonah explained, leading her to the infirmary. Pushing the door open, he motioned to the man in the lab coat. “This is Kyle, the 7 of Hearts, and our doctor.”
Kyle placed the final book on the shelf before glancing over his shoulder at the two. “You’re new.” His eyes scanned her for injuries, a frown forming on his features. “Why are you wearing Jonah’s coat?”
“Oh, that’s right.” Aspen offered the jacket back to him, shivering from the draft in the cool room. She rubbed her hands together for warmth. The scrapes peeking through the rips in her shirt still held onto some thorns tightly.
Jonah cleared his throat, feeling the heat return to his cheeks. “Just treat her promptly so King Lancelot can see her.” He wanted to retrieve some new clothes for her, but for now, he remained in the room. Leaving her alone felt wrong to him, though he couldn’t imagine why.
“Have a seat,” Kyle said, nodding to the nearest cot. He gathered the items he would need to patch her up and rounded the desk. Her injuries seemed superficial. “What happened?”
“I fought a rosebush and lost,” Aspen replied with a forced smile.
“That explains the thorns and scrapes. Can you take your shirt off? If your uncomfortable, I can make Jonah leave,” He tossed out, twisting the cap off the antiseptic bottle.
The ragged shirt crumpled on the bench behind her, revealing severe scrapes and deeply embedded thorns. Jonah turned his gaze away, fixating on the magic crystal flickering in one of the fixtures. The tips of his ears were turning red. “Be quick about it, Kyle. She needs to be taken to King Lancelot immediately,” Jonah said, lacking his usual haughty tone. His duty came first, regardless of her feelings toward the matter.
Kyle noted the girl wince each time he removed a thorn from her tender skin, despite his best effort to be gentle. “So, new girl. You have a name?” He asked. Anything to get her mind off the pain, though it was hardly proven to aid well.
“Oh, I’m Aspen,” she answered, poking her index fingers absentmindedly together.
“Unusual name,” Kyle commented, prodding her to continue talking to him. He’d never heard such a name before for a person, but the trees were popularly grown and sold around the territory.
A breathy laugh passed her lips, trembling green eyes focused on her lap. “My parents were pretty young when they had me and wanted to pick a hipster name. I don’t mind it, besides the fact that it’s never printed on a keychain.”  That was the real struggle of having a strange name. No matter the store or theme park, her name was never to be found.
“Hipster?” Kyle questioned, lifting his gaze from his work. Golden eyes studied her closely, flicking to the Queen of Hearts, filled with many questions of her origins.
“Keychain?” Jonah titled his head, unable to reason out her strange words. He had thought her to be crazy, simply not in her right mind. Yet, the more he listened to her, the less he thought her story so farfetched. It would explain quite a lot. The white rabbit never mentioned traveling through the portal could also move one through time. He must question him thoroughly.
Her eyes widened as if she’d been struck, a sharp reminder that she was far from her home. Would her parents be worried about her? She didn’t visit them that often, having moved to London to escape the rural countryside that they had raised her in. Would they notice if she didn’t call?
Several boots marching down the hallway approached the infirmary. Three men entered, Edgar among them. She could easily pick out the King Lancelot that Jonah had told her about. Edgar and the other one followed a step behind him. His long, elegant cape cascading down his back. Icy blue eyes so intense and impossible to read.
His voice broke through the awkward silence, cutting into her thoughts, demanding her attention. “Edgar has informed me of your situation, Alice. Your arrival is ill timed, but it is curious that you claim to come from another time period.” As if she were an object not worthy of his attention, his gaze moved to Jonah. “Do you believe her, Jonah?”
Jonah’s lips pursed in thought, but he didn’t hesitate to give an answer. “I do.”
“I, as well, my king,” Edgar mirrored the Queen’s answer. He had her phone sticking slightly out of his jacket pocket. “Her devices alone gave quite the proof as nothing in Cradle could have made it. Her clothes, the manner in which she speaks. I do not believe her to be faking.”
Lancelot inspected the girl once again, like checking the worth of livestock. “If she’s an Alice then she should possess the ability to have magic.”
Kyle stiffened at the turn in topic. With all the thorns removed from her, he paused his work to address the King directly. “Lance, give her a break. I’m not finished examining her. She could have a concussion from the fall.”
The electricity in the room tingled her skin. The others had addressed him as their leader, yet Kyle had spoken to him like a common friend. They were strange, for military men. Not that she had any experience with the military in her own world. They were on tv often, wars distant and overseas.
“Fine. Finish tending to Alice and have her sent to her room for the time being. Tomorrow we will continue. Do not attempt to escape us, Alice,” Lancelot’s cold tone lowered the temperature in the room.
“Aspen.” Her interjection to their conversation brought a heavy tension over them and all eyes on her. No one spoke so she swallowed down the lump in her throat and clarified her statement. “My name is Aspen, not Alice.”
The King of Hearts had turned, cape flourishing behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he spoke in the same uncaring tone. “I care not what your name is. Alice will suffice.”
Aspen’s green eyes narrowed, finding him to be unpleasant. “I won’t answer to it. Call me Alice all you like, but I’ll simply ignore you.” A man with entitlement, like the brute that she had been working for recently. Her heart beat against her ribcage, threatening to break through.
“Aspen!” Jonah’s harsh snap of her name brought her gaze to him. Amber eyes having pure anger rippling in them. “You will treat King Lancelot with respect.”
“I don’t know any of you! And you just demand for something that you surely haven’t earned from me. I’m not a nameless main character in an otome game!” Her voice stronger than she thought possible, not crackling like a scared child talking back to a parent.
Edgar cracked a smile, soaking up her odd speech as the best entertainment in a long time. “Understandable, Aspen. Why don’t we take a reprieve from this and let Kyle finish treating you, yes?” His question hadn’t been up for debate. A skilled tactic to diffuse the room and allow Lancelot to exit without anymore issues. “Zero, lets go.” Emerald green eyes fell on her once again, shimmering in the light with unbridled curiosity. “I do hope you’ll spend some time explaining to me what an otome game is, whenever you have settled in.”
As quickly as they’d come, the officers left. Jonah let a heavy sigh fall from his lips. “You should really bite your tongue more often,” he muttered, but his words didn’t reach her ears. A distant echo of jumbled mumbling.
Aspen stared at her lap once again, her palms facing her. Whatever had come over her, the courage to speak up against the King of Hearts, had dissipated from her body, leaving a sinking unease washing over her. Her hands trembled. Air caught in her throat. A familiar dread weighing over. Her head lifted, just slightly to meet the doctor’s concerned gaze. The whisper barely audible.
“I think I’m gonna have a panic attack.”
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The proper things to do when you’ve been sent into a new world in the past and confronted with the cold King of Hearts. I hope you enjoyed this next chapter of Aspen’s story!
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crimscnkiss · 4 years
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( sophie turner, siphon, she/her & cisfemale ) is that ( night bird ) by ( stevie nicks ) playing? ( AURORA “RORY” CALIGO ) must be nearby!  heard folks say the ( twenty five ) year old ( bookstore clerk  ) was at the thanksgiving fair, ( beating her high score on the wack-a-mole ) when chaos ensued. during the glitch, ( she attacked others to protect herself and her sister ).
ay it’s tess, back at it again with her fourth character ! i’ll keep this part short but i’m sorry for this bio ! it starts out descriptive and flutters into random facts, but enjoy !
born and raised a few towns over from letum falls, the caligo twins got the short end of the stick. their parents --- profound, addicted dark magic users --- weren’t the best a taking care of one kid, let alone two. 
the twins’ grandparents wanted to take custody, remove the girls from such a dark environment, but they were hesitant. the girls didn’t seem to be in danger. just two happy little kids and a hailstorm in the form of parental guidance. 
just to be safe, their grandfather placed a protective spell upon the twins to alert them if the twins were ever in immediate danger. good fuckin’ thing too, because just before the girl’s fifth birthday that that bell rang like hell. 
crashing into the caligo family home, nana and papa walked into a horror scene. the twins were left without their magic, and if they had stepped in a second sooner, they could’ve lost their lives, too. their parents, with their deceptive and sadistic minds, had conjured up a plan to steal the twins’ magic, sacrifice them for more, and hit the road. that plan was stopped in it’s tracks.
once the girls were put into the safety of their grandparents care, their parents left to roam the world and escape the wrath of nana. while it would’ve been best to end the trouble there, nana just didn’t have the heart to end it. so, their parents are still off, free in the world, waiting. 
as a child, rory was as girly as could be, just enjoying the vibrant clothes her grandmother showered them with. they were dressed just the same, every day. at first, it was cute, but as the years went on the twins just didn’t feel it anymore. 
as more and more frilly clothing circled through the twins, aurora started to collect a box of the forbidden cloth within her closet. she couldn’t just throw them away, she couldn’t push herself to hurt nana.
 and right before middle something just kinda,,, clicked ? she started going off on her own, pulling her sister closer as they both tried to find themselves. while they both went their own way, creating separate, unique styles, they still managed to stay clung together through it
she tried out for a lot of sports teams as a child but didn’t stick with most of them. she was incredible at soccer but quit the team freshman year, she didn’t want to waste her time at practice when she could be working on her witchcraft and enjoying life
high school was a trying time, she went through millions of friendships and only really stayed close with a few people. but, it gave her plenty of free time to work on her magic and perfect as many spells as possible.
while she was a club and sport fanatic in middle school, that died in her high school years. she strayed away from organized socializing and worked on her mandatory classes, finding herself a bit more drawn to the library than anywhere else
the twins tried to move out at 18, ready to get on with their own lives and see whats waiting out there, but papa got sick and... well that plan died quick
as the years passed papa slowly went down hill and modern medicine was no help to his shriveling frame. so, spell book after spell book was brought from the basement and the women of the caligo family spent weeks searching for the magic cure. finally, just as he was ready to say his goodbyes, nana sprung from the table and threw the book down before the twins. holding out her hands, she offered the girls rivers of magic. this wouldn’t just take one witch. 
three long hours passed, reading and rereading the incantation, failed attempts, a few too many bathroom breaks, but soon enough papa was back up and runnin’, a smile on his face and love in his heart ready to last for another decade or so. whatever he had left, he was gonna use it til’ he couldn’t.
once they were sure papa was fine and nana was okay, the girls finally got their own place at 21, taking along their beloved “cat”, nyx
the twins have drifted apart some, but they’re still close and value eachother’s time --- as well as their own time apart
aurora’s favorite color is purple, has been since the dawn of time, but she wears black a bit too much. 
she’s in love with stevie nicks and would absolutely die for the woman, has every album on cd and blasts it all night long (or with headphones on if the girls are asleep)
likes to drive and often is gone for hours in her car, jammin out and cruisin
she spends her mornings at the bookstore and nights hanging around letum skate catching up with her sister
a true free spirit but the girl has rage bottled up, a deep-seeded hatred for her parents and what they did to her and nova. it’s the reason she stays in letum— her hate for her parents fuels the love she has for nova and her grandparents
she had plans on becoming a teacher, but when she took the job at the bookstore her love for magic grew even deeper, if possible. suddenly, she was surrounded by a sea of knowledge in such a superstitious town. she read any and every book she could find on twin witches or siphons, any book about magic was flipped cover to cover. every inch of the supernatural section has been scanned and recorded by the crimson beauty
she attended the thanksgiving fair, and while she doesn’t remember much, it still haunts her. she attacked others, using her reserve magic in her locket to send citizens flying through the air. bits and pieces blur together but she wishes she didn’t remember a thing
 she never thought she’d use her power to harm others --- that’s her parents. that’s their influence running through her veins, but she justify’s her action by the safety of her sister. she would never admit it, but she’d murder a man in cold blood if it meant keeping her sister out of harms way
aesthetics : soft glows within the trees, the cool touch of metal, flowers frosted at the sight of spring, fresh daisies in the morning, floral button ups and black jeans, sunglasses perched atop furrowed brows
wanted connections :
regulars at the bookstore : rory spends most of her mornings at the bookstore, up and going for the morning’s opening, and smiling as she locks the doors. she has a love for books and is more than willing to chat for hours over a good story, or even slide a recommendation across the counter. “ if ya like it, come in tomorrow and pay. if not, that one’s on me “
enemies : while rory was finding herself, she wasn’t the nicest person to be around. and since she was finding herself through most of middle and high school, there’s bound to be an enemy somewhere. possibly a soccer rival who’s mad that they never got to play one on one, see who’s truly the better player, or even someone she’s truly hurt in some way. i’m down for anything !
someone she’s siphoned : this would have to be a magical being, or even a cursed human, human in possession of a magical object, yadda yadda yadda ya get the point. but the when and why is the true question ! imma leave this vague but i’d love to plot !
exes/crushes/flings : the romantic and sexual works. aurora here swings all ways and isn’t unfamiliar with pleasure or even those stomach-turnin’ crushes. this could be recent, from high school, a fling at a bar on her 21st ! again, vague, but there are sooooooo many ways to play this !
those are just off the top of my head but if you’d like to plot for one of these, or brainstorm, hit me up !
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mutantsrisingrpg · 4 years
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Congratulations, NOEL! You’ve been accepted as DEIMOS.
Noel, when writing Derek’s skeleton I envisioned someone that was constantly stuck between being alone and reaching out those around them - and you captured that perfectly. Your Derek is someone that knows who he is and knows how to keep everyone at arms length, and yet he still needs contact with others. I was hooked on your app from the very first word and had to read it twice because I couldn’t believe what life you brought to him. I’m beyond excited to see both you and him on the dash! 
Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.
Out of Character Information: 
NAME/ALIAS: Noel
PRONOUNS: She/her they/them 
AGE: 24
TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: CST / GMT-6 I’m usually on 2-4 times a week depending on the time of year/school/work.
In Character Information:
DESIRED ROLE: Derek Park (Deimos)
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cismale, he/him
DETAILS & ANALYSIS: 
OVERVIEW
To me, Derek is interesting because he embodies one of the most human fears: that we are somehow born irreparably, intrinsically wrong. Broken. Cursed with a peach-pit of wickedness from day one that will always steer us away from what is right and good and lovely. For Derek, he’s just unlucky enough that the combination of his home environment and specific power only seem to prove his worst fears true: that everything good he may touch will come away worse for having known him. That he is, at a most basic level, a creature of destruction.
POWERS
Derek is a man possessed by a force that knows no satiety. Fire is, in its simplest form, a thing made to consume. Forever hungry. He has to be careful, controlled, or risk being consumed along with everything else. In practice, this looks like stony silence. Covered skin, an aversion to touch. An arched eyebrow without comment, or a single dog’s-bark of laughter. No drinking, no drugs-- only cigarettes to take the edge off, a controlled burn. Sarcasm, a dark, dry wit, a small smirk and a glance away. A very, very tight circle of trust, and a body that is always on the edge of something, ready for fight or flight.
THE JOB
He slips into interrogation naturally. Regardless of whatever he might have once liked to believe about himself, he has a knack for knowing where to press to hurt people the most. To extract what he needs. He takes people apart efficiently and effectively, and at least he can take pride in that. There’s an elegance to someone doing the job they are most suited for. If he must do something so ugly, at least he does it well.
The other half of the job is prevention. The right rumors, the right image-- good PR. That’s why he wears what he does (dark, black, leather), why he started smoking (though it’s not the reason he kept at it.) He’s a silhouette in the darkness, a shadow at the back of the pack, at the edge of the club, little visible apart from the glinting eyes, the trail of smoke left in his wake. It’s taken him the better part of a decade, establishing himself as someone you’ll be lucky to never meet. Privately, he considers this his best work, all the work he kept from happening. The ghost over your shoulder, asking: are you sure you want to do that?
BIO: 
(TW drugs, violence)
Touch has always been tied to pain for Derek. The first thing he touched on this Earth he hurt, and the first thing that touched him immediately recoiled. Him, a fresh, swaddled baby, handed to his mother to be pressed, cheek to cheek— and then the shriek, so out of place in what should have been a beautiful moment, and that unmotherly, wrenching instinct to push the painful thing away. A nurse had to step in before his mother could drop him to the floor, likely saving his life in the process. It was mortifying, Derek’s father looking at his mother like he’d never seen her before, the crease on the doctor’s brow. 
And then there was the evidence, left on his mother’s face: a burn mark in the shape of a newborn’s cheek. Tiny eyelashes like red, welted spider legs. 
Derek was supposed to be the miracle baby, their first son, but there was so much undeniably wrong about him. They could overlook that first burn— a freak accident— but there was another wrongness that infiltrated everything he did, everything he was. He moved through the world oddly, more like a wizened street cat than a child, always scowling too much for his age. Always somewhere far away in his own head, unreachable. Enigmatic. Hard to love.
Apart from that first incident, his powers didn’t manifest in earnest until his teen years, but when they did there was no stopping it. Derek became all too familiar with the smell of melting plastic, burning hair, and hot metal. He grew an aversion to paper, nail polish remover, and anything that took batteries or gasoline, anything explosive. Worst, though, was how his powers affected those around him. Even a small bump of arm to side in passing was enough to leave a welt, the hiss of burning skin and singed hair becoming all too familiar. Derek learned to pull his body in like a sail. He moved around on cautious, light feet, as if everywhere his skin touched the world hurt him. He stopped sleeping, for fear of what his body would do in his dreams.
It was an impossible way to live, and of course it had to come to a head sometime. One Fall night, he woke up surrounded by blinding light, and a weird taste in his mouth. At first, he thought he was seeing an angel. It was just so bright. A few delirious moments later and he realised what was happening. What he was.
The glowing coal at the center of a house fire.
No one was physically harmed, but in every other way his family was ruined. Everything had to change. The family of a high-level mutant couldn’t move through life like normal people. Government representatives visited to lay out the ground rules of their new lives, all the restrictions they were to follow at threat of having him taken away. In the years following, Derek could never decide whether his parent’s submission to these new rules was driven by some last vestige of parental love they had for him, or over the fear of what having him sent away would do to their reputation. Not that they had much of that left, anyway. In their small community they were pariahs, the reckless family putting everyone around them at risk, harboring that boy of theirs.
At home, Derek’s powers were a confirmation of every bad thought and reservation his parents had ever had about him. He was a death-trap burden, a dangerous changeling child with unknown motivations. He switched to homeschooling, was only allowed in certain parts of the house at certain hours, and almost never went outside. Within the house itself he was surveilled, his every movement controlled and judged against the possible harm he might cause. But nothing he did could ever be enough to win their trust, their approval. It changed how he saw himself, being treated like a liability. He’d spent his life being told what he was, and now he was starting to believe them.
So he decided: if he must be a bomb always about to go off, he might as well do something with it. Might as well become the weapon everyone treated him as. Might as well make a living out of it. He was deteriorating, trapped up in his fire-proofed room, always alone. 
A cursed life was better than no life at all.
So he left home and learned to control his powers. He found people who appreciated the worst parts of himself, and paid him well for it. He discovered a talent for interrogation, intimidation, a naturally threatening smile. By his early twenties, nothing he was doing could be called legal. A few years after that, and he’d made a real name for himself as someone who would go further than the others. Dangerous enough that even his employers were afraid of him. Eventually, only the worst would hire him. Looks normal enough, but don’t believe it. He’s fucking crazy. The tougher the employer, the tougher the work, but by that point he had stopped caring. The consequences weren’t real, the threats were just words. Enemies were just people he’d have to deal with later.
Amsterdam was his breaking point. Derek had switched to freelancing for a while, broken off from all alliances after a boss tried to two-time him. He was unaffiliated, impartial, just helping bad guys hurt bad guys. Still, this was his riskiest gig. He’d never gone international before, a Level 5 mutant with fake papers on a commercial airline-- it was enough to give any number of governmental agencies reason to take him out on sight. But he was bored, numb, bored, numb. Coming up to 30 years old and sick of the Chicago scene. So he’d tried something new.
The boss there was something else, a real talker, beautiful, had gotten under his skin in a way few ever had. He should have left when the boss had asked about taking out a hit-- it had always been a sore subject for him. That’s not my job, dead people can’t talk, I’m not fucking paid enough to kill people. (There was no amount of money could be paid to kill people.) 
But the man was just so charming. Derek relaxed an inch, and they took a mile. It was just one drink. He didn’t even taste the ketamine. When he woke up, his mouth tasted like copper, and barbeque smoke. The sweet, musky smell of burning spinal fluid. Three were dead, the boss was laughing, and his return flight was in under an hour. 
When he got back, he had a missed call from Damien Matthews, with a different kind of job for him. A job with rules, structure. Protection. He’d heard about the Jems and all the noise they’d been making about Mutant Rights and he didn’t really care about that shit, but he took the job immediately. He needed the discipline, a boss, someone to reel him back in from where he’d strayed too far from his himself, almost at the cost of his humanity. The Jems saved him, and while he may be somewhat ambivalent to their cause, his loyalty to Damien is unflinching. The Jems need him, but he needs them more.
EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:
LUCA MENDOZA: Luca is even more dangerous than Derek is and-- somehow-- that makes them the only person he feels completely safe around. Fact is, Luca’s position and power make them uniquely suited to shield his weakest spots, as: 1) When they’re together their power is a shared one, nullifying the risk of Derek hurting them by accident, and 2) no hitman is going to judge an interrogator for their occupation. The outcomes of their jobs may be different, but they’re two sides of the same coin. Their friendship is uncomplicated, enabling, and chaotic, but also somehow comfortable in a way Derek is unaccustomed to.
ISABEL ACOSTA: Oh, the angst. Derek never, ever thought he’d be in the position he is with Isabel, has fought that sort of connection his whole life. And if it were anyone other than Isabel, he’d be able to continue that way. Isabel is the best and the worst thing to happen to him. Look, is there anything better than two people learning to lower their boundaries and let someone in? Being so unable to stay away from the other that they can’t help but become knowable, to be seen as they are, terrible and ugly and complicated and beautiful? And then to know what it feels like to be loved not in spite of your flaws, but because of everything you’ve done to overcome them? Ohh my god.
EXTRA: 
Ideas for future plots/connections:
I’d love to plot something with a character who could have known him pre-Jems, when he was a real piece of work. 
In general, I’m really interested in how all the different powers within the groups interact with the powers of those around them! I.e., what the hell would happen if he met Dione? Would they just cancel each other out? Or be extra dangerous to each other?
For a decade and a half, he lived without really caring about the consequences, and he made lots of enemies along the way. I’d be interested to see some effects of this coming to fruition. Past alliances broken, a history of betrayal or always ending up on the wrong side of the table.
He has a lot of easily pushed buttons. This could go very poorly for the wrong person, someone stubbornly curious or just amused by the thought of getting under his skin.
Also I’m excited to see how the Isabel Situation puts a strain on his loyalty to the Jems, and his relationships within the gang.
General HC’s
He’s a vegetarian. Yes, most of the Jems find this hilarious, someone whose job is to hurt people being not wanting to eat cute little animals. In reality, it’s more an aversion to the idea of cooked meat. Particularly the smell. You can guess why.
Derek is still bad at keeping his phone on him. It’s a holdover from growing up avoiding electronics, anything that might easily explode. At this point in life he just finds it kind of irritating. He doesn’t like the idea of being easily reachable.
He’s bisexual.
He still has nightmares about burning houses, familiar faces flickering amongst the flames, frozen in silent screams. He has lived alone since he left home as a teen, and he plans to do so for the rest of his life.
I could go on and on but this is already way too long. Thank you guys for taking the time to read through this!
ANYTHING ELSE: Nope :)
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halfgap · 5 years
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This is such a tiny (& likely pointless) quibble that’s been bothering me for a long, long time, way before I got into CR. Basically writers and fandom (esp. recently) are really, really into the whole “found family” or “families of choice” trope, and like. So am I, 100%. But a lot of the thought/language surrounding it -- in all areas of fandom -- tends to veer in a direction that almost always makes me uncomfortable.
Below the cut bc this got rambly & senseless fast lol
Like... it’s sort of this popular fixation on assigning kinship terms to each individual or non-romantic relationship within the “found family” unit. Like, “oh this is the dad of the group, this is the mom, this is the weird uncle, these two are siblings, etc.” And obviously in some cases it’s very appropriate or even comes directly from the writers/characters (which is another issue of its own tbh but.. later). But it bugs me that so many people are so keen on categorizing these relationships through this rigid kinship terminology in the first place. 
(And I know I’m looking at this from a very unfortunately Eurocentric perspective, since there are so many cultures that don’t base their ideas of “kinship” on biology at all and don’t automatically prioritize blood relations as “true” family, which is why my weird specific quibbles on this may be entirely pointless, and I’m open to hearing thoughts. But I also suspect that most of the people participating in this popular trend/habit I’m talking about are coming from a similar cultural perspective as mine...)
Anyway, I can’t really articulate why this has always annoyed me so much other than to say... I feel like people refuse to let the word “friends” just be, and be important & valued? And it’s good that people are re-defining the word “family” so that it can function independent of any blood ties, but this obsession with like, “dad, siblings, the vodka aunt etc” to me still feels strongly tied to the older ideas of kinship through blood & marriage, basically this.. strictly defined family tree sort of deal. If people want to push forward the idea that the platonic bonds we choose & create for ourselves can be just as important or even more important than biological bonds or romantic/sexual ones, then why do we have to insist on these older kinship labels that both implicitly continue to privilege older ideas of family (by people “upgrading” relationships from “friends” to “siblings/parents/etc”) and also bear the same limitations? Like, a great fucking thing about these chosen bonds are that they don’t have to be defined or boxed into any one predetermined social role, they can be amorphous and intense and transcend the language we currently have access to.
Like, when people kept asking Ash and Taliesin on TM if Yasha and Molly considered themselves siblings... That made me uncomfortable, especially after they both conclusively said “no.” Ashley’s made it clear that Molly was the most important person in her life after she left Xhorhas, he’s a soul mate and a friend and a confidant and a buddy but she clarified that Yasha doesn’t see him as “a brother, exactly..” Partly I think it’s because there is a potential dimension of some form of romantic bond within their intense platonic love, but even with that they’d never consider themselves dating or anything like that, either -- or they can also ‘just’ be read as 100% platonic past & present & future, depending on where you’re coming from. Like, it’s ambiguous & amorphous & intense & loving & good, and I like that it defies categorization, I like that the best way to describe them is “they’re very close friends” and that doesn’t mean less than if they were lovers or “adoptive siblings” or whatever. The whole circus was kind of the same way, and Tal even said that Molly didn’t consider any of them a “parental” figure when fans asked about Gustav, but decided that Gustav was the closest to that role if we had to look at things that way. But we don’t!!!!
People also asked several times if Beau and Molly considered themselves siblings -- again, no!!!!! (But I feel like that’s probs bc the cast are also largely used to the idea we get from so much media & stories where a friend/comrade is “upgraded” to a “brother/sister/whatever” after a certain degree of trust/intimacy that Beau and Molly didn’t have yet... but still, I don’t think Beau and Molly ever needed to develop into siblings in the first place!! Ahhhh!!!) Weirdly a funny related example I can think of is that one Community episode when they were like “This study group is like a family!!” but then a lot of hidden trysts and scandals and feelings were discussed/debated, and at the end Jeff admitted that maybe they weren’t like a family, exactly, maybe it was more complicated than that. And it is!!! But that doesn’t mean that group bond matters less than family!!! (Also the ‘wholesome as the family on the Brady Bunch’ -> ‘incestuous & dysfunctional as the cast of the Brady Bunch’ joke is hilarious).
Also!!!! In Leverage when people are so fixated on calling Nate the dad, Sophie the mom, Eliot & Parker & Hardison the kids, or like one weird youtube comment I saw acknowledging how Parker & Hardison are dating, well, now Hardison is just the daughter’s boyfriend!! Like ?????? What? Nate has really dad-like interactions, Sophie sometimes has really mom-like interactions, and I love it all and it’s funny, but they’re not equivalent to a mom & dad. Sophie flirts with Eliot, Nate & Sophie can both be really dumb & competitive with all of the other 3.. Eliot has sibling-like interactions with Hardison and Parker sometimes, and he also has love interest-like reactions, and he also has Best Friend-like interactions, and they’re all good & important & only part of a greater, harder to define whole that forms their bond.
And like, I realize that y’know, ultimately all these words aren’t real, like.. language is constantly evolving because all the ‘meaning’ (denotive & connotative) of these words are something we construct as a society in an effort to best reflect what society perceives as reality/truth... And that probably every individual gets a slightly different meaning in their mind when any given word comes up anyway.. Which is why ‘family’ now doesn’t really frustrate me as much when used in the same contexts as I was just ranting about with ‘mom/dad/brother/sister/etc’ but I dunno. I’m just suspicious of what feels like people trying to re-imagine these bio-family words so they can encompass non-biological bonds, rather than maybe instead trying to just? Keep words like friendship and platonic and whatever and push them until they gain a connotation of importance as much as ‘family’ (& related terms) and ‘spouse’ or whatever has? Because if we don’t want bio families to take precedence over chosen families in any way, then I think our language has to reflect that, and people need to stop fckin dismissing friendship in the first place. It weirdly reminds me of some people trying to get literary arts & humanities etc added to “STEM” bc they believe science shouldn’t be viewed as more valuable than the arts, but then in those very attempts to ““elevate”” the arts, they’re just??? Already playing into this assumption that STEM is higher, more important etc?? And treating arts as some form of science just limits it & removes a lot of the dimensions of art that makes it valuable - & different from science - in the first place? Which was what I was saying before about people trying to cram relationships like Yasha’s & Molly’s into a defined familial one?
Okay I realize this is just incoherent unhinged rambling at this point but I’m just trying to parse my inexplicable frustration on the go here lmao. If anyone who might have perspective on this wants to?? Help me out here, it’d be great to hear your thoughts. Am I just being overly suspicious & nitpicky??? Maybe!!!!! But that’s why I called it a quibble!!!!
anyway tl;dr the M9 are a group of friends, best friends even, and that can be just as important & prioritized as family/romantic partners, but if you really want to say the M9 are ‘like family’ or a family then I guess I’m ok with that too, but for some reason anything more specific than that tends to grind my gears bc I’m Weird
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