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#ESPECIALLY those who have never gone through the sport themselves. stop getting off on abused children and start advocating for SAFETY
locrianking · 1 year
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nothing pisses me off more than how figure skating reporters/news will constantly and intentionally leave out important details of stories in order to produce ragebait for people who don’t know anything about figure skating
#like i’m sorry but surya bonaly is NOT the hill you want to die on.#they banned backflips BEFORE SHE WAS EVEN COMPETING because guess what!#USFSA/ISU doesn’t want to deal with skaters breaking their fucking necks and dying on live tv!#or make young skaters feel like they Have To Learn how to do it and then fucking dying because of how INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS it is.#dont get me wrong figure skating is conservative and racist as fuck and surya bonaly faced some pretty horrific racism in her career#but banning the backflip had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do about not having skaters fucking die#also i’m not sorry but her edgework fucking sucked. like her jumps were incredible i can’t lie but her edges were. painful to watch at best#see also: everything regarding the sambo 70 and eteri#i am so sick and fucking tired of seeing people who don’t skate just hype up these incredible abused teenagers and hail them like gods#they don’t need fame they need HELP and eteri needs to be in fucking JAIL for what she’s done to SO MANY KIDS#i hope this sport gets more boring!! i hope i see less quads and less teenagers!!#what i want to see is competitive skaters who are still able to skate when they’re 25+ because their training was healthy and genuine#i want to see good technique and clean lutz edges and no full blade assistance on toe jumps bc thats what will save your joints#i want to see skaters with muscle and fat who have healthy relationships w/ food and their bodies and are stronger for it#this sport is so fucked. it’s a joke. i love skating but i wish i never had to interact with the community around it#ESPECIALLY those who have never gone through the sport themselves. stop getting off on abused children and start advocating for SAFETY#rosie speaks
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bunnyywritings · 3 years
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bubbly s/o opens up about trauma pt. 1
bakugou katsuki & shouto todoroki x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k
requested by anon: Katsu, Sho, Izu, and Eiji headcanons to their bubbly, and sweet crush, and close friend, opening up to them about being abused by their parents growing up? They've gotten therapy and are living with their Grandparents but sometimes they get upset when someone brings up parents or asks about the scars from abuse. They tell them they shared this with them because they refused to lie to them. They hug him close, thanking him for being a good friend. -Morp
[a/n: i hope you don’t mind that I’m doing it in parts anon! i ended up doing scenarios for each one, i'm a bit rusty so i apologize if this isn't very well done. you can read part 2 [ here ] ,thank you for requesting sweet heart! here you go! - yours truly, bunny -`ღ´- ]
TW: mentions of parental abuse & scars, nothing explicit but implied
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To an extent, he always knew. Maybe not the specifics, but whenever you were alone and thought no one was paying any attention, you’d let your guard down. The metaphorical sparkle in your eyes would dim, your shoulders would slump as if you were taking a break. Then someone would approach and in the blink of an eye, the sparkle was back and the familiar grin on your lips was present once again. Despite what others may think, Bakugou was a good friend.
He worried about you. A lot.
That may be due to the fact that he has a huge crush on you, but it was unlikely. He values your friendship so much. He’d rather have you as a friend than anything else, really. That was mainly his insecurity talking though. He just thought he wasn’t good enough for you. No one was, really. But that’s besides the point.
He had never explicitly said anything about his feelings for you but he didn’t need to. It was quite clear through his actions. Well...clear to everyone but you, that is. Even Aizawa had caught on. And he couldn’t care less about his students’ love lives. He’s had his fill of teenage angst and drama.
During training, he’d always make sure your water bottle was full or during lunch he’d keep an eye out and make sure you were eating. Sometimes he’d even give you extra pieces of meat from his plate, or if he had veggies he knows you like, he’d wordlessly place them into your rice bowl.
Now this wasn’t one sided at all. You also had your ways of looking out for him.
If you were doing a convenience store run with Sero and you saw the particular snack that Bakugou likes, you’d instantly grab a few. For his birthday, you had gotten him custom earplugs for quirk training. It had been after you and him were paired to spar against each other, he always insisted on not holding back against you out of respect, and you had experienced one of his full blown attacks head-on. Your ears were ringing for about half an hour before you could somewhat hear again, and even then, everything was a bit muffled.
Needless to say, you were worried about his hearing
He scoffed and rolled his eyes when he unwrapped the box. Scolding you for wasting money on something he had no use for.
He always uses them though. Especially when he’s doing stamina training, and it’s explosion after explosion.
Anyways. He notices your strange behavior, one day. You stopped trying to keep up the façade and you were sort of gloomy all day. He was absolutely pissed that no one had noticed the change, and he’d yell at them later for it, but he kept his cool and waited until he could be alone with you.
It had been around 8pm, just an hour before his bedtime, when he made some tea for the both of you and carried it up to your dorm room. He paused in front of your door, looking down at both his hands, a mug in each one, then looking at the door handle. Realizing he won't be able to physically open the door by himself, he awkwardly bumped the door with his elbow.
“Hey idiot, it’s me. Open the door.” He grumbled quietly, frowning when you hadn’t responded. Before he could repeat himself a little more aggressively, the muffled sound of your sniffling made his stomach drop. Panic rising throughout his body as he made up worst case scenarios in his head.
“(Y/n), seriously. Is everything okay?” All attempts to sound calm failed as his voice betrayed him, trembling the slightest bit.
On the other side of the door, you started to panic. Furiously wiping any evidence of tears or snot from your face before you slumped over to the door, turning the lock and tugging it open to reveal a frowning Bakugou. He wasn’t upset, he was worried. It was evident in his red irises.
“Here. Drink it before it gets cold.” He handed you a mug before walking past you and into your room. He admired the decor everytime he was in there, no matter how many times he had seen it already, it never failed to make his heart warm. You had a wall full of pictures of yourself with your friends. There were a few solo photos of your friends as well. Most were candid shots, there were a fair few of him.
It always reminded him that beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder. You cherished those candid photos because in your eyes, when your friends were carefree and themselves, no poses, no facade, that’s when they were their most beautiful.
He took a seat on your bed and patted the space beside him. Nudging the door shut, you made your way over and got comfortable.
“What’s up with you today? You seemed...not yourself.”
You didn’t respond, opting to take a sip of your tea. He knew there was something up and he wasn’t gonna push you. So he leaned back and got comfortable, waiting until you were ready. It was a solid three minutes of silence before you took a deep breath.
“I-I don’t want to lie to you, Katsuki. It just wouldn’t be fair so uhh, yeah. Here goes.” He could tell that this was overwhelming for you so, wordlessly, he put down his mug and held his hand out to you and you grasped it, like it was a lifeline.
And you told him.
You told him about the abuse from your own parents. He felt his blood boil as you showed him a few scars inflicted by your parents’ quirks. You explained that it was the anniversary of the day you ran away and went to live with your grandparents, and how you had been seeing a therapist on the regular since then.
It pained him to see you struggle through the tears, hiccuping a few times as you attempted to catch your breath. You didn’t even have to say it but he could see it, it was an all too familiar feeling to him. He tugged you to him, letting go of your hand and pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapping you up in a warmth that made the stinging tears return.
“You know, this doesn’t make me think less of you. You’re not weak. Those bastards don’t realize how bad they screwed up. You’re strong, and they’re gonna regret every goddamn choice they’ve made when they see how far you’ll go.”
“Thank you.” You whimpered as you gave in to the new wave of tears, hooking your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you…”
If anyone asks, no...he wasn’t crying. (He was though.)
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If anyone was familiar with the signs of abuse, it was him. 
It hurt him so much knowing that you had gone through what he did, maybe not to the same extreme but you had experienced it nonetheless. 
He admired you though. Despite whatever happened to you, you were always bright. Always in a good mood and always choosing to see the good in people. He knows that he didn’t have the strength to do that. Maybe eventually, but not so soon. He had never wanted to pry. You guys were friends, practically best friends and he trusted that you’d tell him when you were ready. 
To his knowledge, no one knew. No one mentioned the way you’d flinch around sudden movements or when someone raised their voice. Honestly, it was a wonder that you had even befriended Iida. He was the epitome of loud and sudden. Always waving his arms around at the randomest times and always shouting to chastise someone for breaking a rule. 
He noticed that you tended to cover up your torso often. Never really wearing anything more revealing than a normal t-shirt. Even on the class trip to the beach, you insisted on staying covered up. No one questioned it, chalking it up to insecurity. Even during training when everyone had to wear their gym uniform, while others undid the top part and wrapped it around their waist, being clad in a tank top or sports bra, you had always kept it on. Even when it was extremely hot. More often than not, he found himself resting his palm against your forehead to cool you off. 
It hadn’t been very hot, but Aizawa decided to run everyone ragged with combat training, so everyone was partnered up. Todoroki had been partnered with Denki and you had been paired up with Eijirou.
As he sat with his classmates, watching the two of you spar, he was quite impressed. Not that he doubted your skill but both fighting styles were drastically different. Eijirou and his quirk relied on close combat while your quirk worked best with long-range. He could see the frustration on your face when Eijirou kept charging towards you and engaging in hand to hand.
As the fight went on, Kirishima had hardened his forearm and hand, kinda like a makeshift blade and as he took you down, he had accidentally cut the top of your gym uniform. As the dust settled and the both of you got up, the tear in your clothes allowed the whole class to see your back and shoulders, skin littered with scars. All were different in size, color, severity, etc. 
Everyone was stunned silent, not having expected anything like this. 
“(Y/n)...what happened?” You could feel the breeze on your back and the pity in Kirishima’s eyes made you angry.
Everyone suddenly snapped into realization. Various questions of; ‘who did that to you?’, ‘where did those come from?’ and whatnot were shot at you from different directions. He could see you slowly being overwhelmed by everything. His heart dropped as he made eye contact with you, your eyes tired and filled with tears. 
“That’s ENOUGH!” Everyone froze and looked at Todoroki with wide eyes, his voice booming.
Sensing the tension starting to rise, Aizawa sighed. 
“Alright everyone settle down. Training is over, get back to class. (Y/n). A word.” 
Reluctantly, Todoroki followed the boys into the locker room and changed into his school uniform.  When everyone was out and he returned outside to the training grounds, you and Aizawa weren’t there so he had gone back to the locker rooms. He knocked and called out to you. 
“Can I come in?” He heard a meek ‘yeah.’ So he carefully made his way inside. 
There you were, dressed in your school uniform and sat on a bench with your face buried in your hands, shoulders shaking. 
“(Y/n)...” He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, he winced when you looked up at him. IIt ached him to see your beautiful eyes tainted by tears. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Sho…” Your bottom lip quivered. 
“Please, don’t apologize.” He opened his arms. You stood up and basically collapsed into them, clutching onto the back of his blazer. “Just always remember that I may understand more than anyone else will. I’ll never judge you, you know that right?” 
“I know…It’s just, ugh-” You pulled away and wiped the tears from your face. “I don’t want anyone to change how they look at me because of what my parents did to me and when everyone saw, and they were asking all of their questions, their eyes...they were just full of pity.” 
“Then look into mine.”
And when you did, you didn’t see pity. 
You saw admiration. You saw belonging. Love. Understanding. 
“Nothing will ever change with me, (Y/n).” He pressed his forehead against yours, “I will always be here for you.” 
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writtenonreceipts · 4 years
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So, this is the last planned chapter I have for runaways.  Unless someone sends in a prompt or something...But in any case I appreciated all the support y’all gave me for this one.  It meant a lot.  I never really thought I would ever post it...anyways enjoy!
TW: none...? I think this chapter actually constitutes as having fluff which is a very rare occurrence for me and my angst ridden mind...
where aelin discovers that home is found. Based on characters from SJMass’ Throne of Glass series.  Previous link/parts found here.
lost and found
The sunflowers are well over six feet tall.  They stand as proud sentinels beside the whitewashed porch.  In the setting sun, their faces begin to droop, the yellow petals sagging more and more into the shadows.  Until now, Aelin has never considered how strange these plants are.  Never considered how they tower over everything so plainly.
Aelin stares at them.  She is them.  She is a shadow slinking down and out.  Away from everything.  It is easy to understand why the flowers droop when the sun isn’t present.  It’s hard enough to exist when it is.  How strange though--that visceral reaction.  Even at this distance she can see the flowers bowing their heads as if drifting off to sleep.  One by one.
“Hey,” Rowan’s face is soft, his hand warm as he grips her fingers.  “It’s going to be alright, okay?”
She can only nod because as she’s beginning to speak the door to the house flies open and a girl comes barreling out.  
She is barely ten years old and is laughing.  She is barely ten years old and there is not a care on her face.  She is barely ten years old and she is free.  Her brown hair burns red in the summer sun and it whips about her face as she dances through the front yard.  A white cat comes streaking out after her and darts beneath the porch.  Someone stands in the shadows of the doorway, but Aelin doesn’t focus on them.  She only sees the girl.
Evangeline.
Sweet, innocent, Evangeline.
Aelin can only stare and think of how Lysandra could have gotten the girl away from Arobyn and Clarisse.  She can only stare and think of what the two must have gone through in the past few years.  When she left.  When she was gone.
Aelin’s heart begins to pick up and her breath hitches.  But just as soon as it starts she pushes it down and throws open the car door.  
As she rounds the front of the car, Rowan is getting out of his side, but he waits, leaning against the door--watching.  
Aelin barely makes it to the edge of the grass when Evangeline notices her and waves a bright cheerful hand.
“Hello!” the girl calls, not really recognizing Aelin.  But that’s fine.  She doesn’t want to be known for what she was after all.
“Hi,” Aelin shouts back.  She’s about to ask if Lysandra is available but Evangaline is already running to the porch.
“Mom!” the girl yells. “Someone’s here!”
Evangenline turns back to Aelin, eyes sparkling as a giggle escapes her lips. “She’s not really my mom, but I like calling her that.”
Something seems to burst in Aelin’s chest at that and new tears start to race down her cheeks.  And then the form returns to the doorway and a young woman--the same age as Aelin--steps out.
Her brown hair is in a top knot with wisps falling around her face.  She’s beautiful, no denying that, but Aelin realizes it’s not just her elegant features or the rich brown hair that make her so.  Rather it’s the smile she’s casting over her shoulder as she comes out onto the porch, barefoot.  She’s wearing leggings and a tank top.
Aelin steps a bit closer, almost against her will.  She’s nearly halfway to the porch when she stops, cursing herself.  She’d left.  She’s left in the dark of the night.  No note.  Nothing.  She’d left running from everything.  Everyone.  And standing before her was one of those people left behind.
She’s running a hand through her hair trying to think of something to say, someway to explain.
“Aelin?” Lysandra asks.  Her voice cracks into dust. “Aelin?”
“I’m,” Aelin begins.  She means to say something profound.  She means to apologize.  She means to do something other than cry.  Because she doesn’t cry.  She hates it.  But now staring at her best friend, Aelin goes against everything she knows. “Lysanda--I’m--”
But the other woman is already running towards Aelin and yanking her into an impossibly tight hug.  Aelin swears she can’t breathe.  And right now, it doesn’t matter.
“You bitch,” Lysandra says.  She pulls back and glares at Aelin.  They’re about the same height but for some reason Aelin feels so small next to Lysandra.  “You ever loving bitch.”
“Well screw you,” Aelin retorts.  She doesn’t miss a beat as she stares at the brunette. 
Lysandra throws a punch into Aelin’s shoulder, hard. And the two stand there.  The sun is setting around them as Evangeline watches hesitantly and several footsteps are echoing in the house.  They stand in the shadows of the sunflowers and Aelin begins to wish she’d never gotten in the car, that she’d never called Rowan, that she’d never left.  Either time.
“Dammit,” Lysandra whispers and then she’s throwing her arms back around Aelin and pulls her just as close as before. “You scared me, Aelin.  You scared me so bad.”
Aelin ropes her arms around her friend and holds on.  “I know.”
She’s not sure how long they stand there, but Aelin grows slowly aware of the other person standing on the porch.  He’s tall and broad shouldered with blond hair hanging just to his shoulders.  His bright eyes are near mirror images of Aelin’s own.
The sight of him is enough to keep Aelin rooted to the spot.  Because even though it has been nearly ten years since she has seen him, there is no mistaking her cousin.
“You look like hell cousin,” Aedion says after a moment.  He’s leaning against the porch railing trying to look bored.  But Aelin can see the smile quirking on his mouth.
“Bite me Ashryver,” Aelin snaps back.
And then they’re laughing so hard that Aelin nearly knocks Lysandra over.  She’s full of tears and giggles as Aedion embraces her saying that he knew all along she was going to be alright.  That everything was going to be alright.
“Aelin, when were you going to tell me you had a male model with you?” Lysandra hisses after Aelin and Aedion have finally gotten control over themselves.
Looking up, Aelin sees that Rowan has begun to kick a soccer ball around with Evangeline, letting her score on him while simultaneously giving her tips on how to dribble the ball more effectively.  Aelin realizes she never knew Rowan could play sports.
“He’s my friend,” she says after a minute.  She wipes a hand beneath her eyes and watches Evangeline sneak a goal past Rowan. “You got her out, Lys.”
“We got each other out,” Lysandra says and leans her head against Aelin’s shoulder.
#
“I got shipped off to the border of Orynth not long after Arobyn reported me,” Aedion says.  He had tried one too many times to run away.  To cause problems.
They’re seated around the kitchen table.  A hastily made chocolate cake is left, half eaten.  It’s the most delicious thing Aelin has ever eaten and she has to force herself not to eat the entire thing.  Especially when reminded of the day Aedion left.
She hadn’t even gotten the chance to really say good-bye.  Neither Arobyn nor Clarisse had told them that Aedion was leaving to a new foster home.  And Aelin had never really tried to find him.  She has to remind herself that the one time she did Arobyn forced her to sleep outside in the old maple tree with nothing but a chain on her ankle and moth eaten blanket.
Of course it doesn’t help when Aelin learns that Aedion had been just as abused as she and Lysandra had been.
“And then you got recruited into the war,” Lysandra says quietly.
Aedion reaches a hand over to hers in such a tender gesture that Aelin feels her heart clench.  It is nothing short of a miracle that they found each other.  That they can be happy.
In the silence, Aelin hopes that will be it.  She hopes someone will make the comment that she should eat the rest of the cake.  That laughs will be exchanged.  And she finds herself shifting in her chair, moving closer to Rowan who has been quiet most of the night.  But he has one arm resting over the back of her chair so it’s almost alright.
“You left the hospital without telling me,” Lysandra says.
And just like that the silence is shattered and Aelin feels herself stiffen.  Old memories come crawling back behind her eyes and she can’t escape them.  Just as she feels her heart quicken, Rowan’s hand is on her shoulder, his fingers running in smooth circles over her skin.  
She is safe.  She is fine.
But still, Aelin feels tears come to her eyes.  She feels herself slipping just a little bit.
“I had to get out,” she whispers.  Aelin runs her fingers over the scars on her knuckles as Rowan traces the scars on her back.  It’s something he’s never done before, but in that moment it’s the most soothing thing she can think of. “I couldn’t...not after everything.  Hell, Lys.  I’m so sorry.”
Lysandra shakes her head gently. “No,” she says, “no, Aelin.  You did what you had to do.”
Except she’d left her best friend there.  She’d left her best friend in a hellhole of misery.
“I ran away,” Aelin says.  She looks between Lysandra and Aedion, not quite able to read their expressions, but she presses on. “I ran away from everything.”
She feels Rowan's fingers tighten on her shoulder and his presence wraps around her.  Even when she feels like she’s losing control, here he is.
Lysandra leans across the table toward her, her expression painfully soft in a way that Aelin does not deserve.
“But you made it back,” her friend says.  “Just like I knew you would.”
“We’re allowed to get lost sometimes, Fireheart,” Rowan says.  It’s the first thing he’s spoken in a while and just the sound of his voice lets Aelin take a full breath.  Just the touch of his fingers on her skin is enough for her to relax.
And she knows that here--here she is safe.  
#
It’s hours later.  Years later.
Sometime later.
The moon is out on a clear summer night and Aelin can hear crickets in the distance.  She can smell the sweet tang of summer on the air mingling with the soft decay of freshly mowed grass.  And she can almost begin to say she feels like she’s home.
There’s a spare room she’s supposed to be sleeping in, but Aelin can’t.  Even after everyone else has finally, finally turned in for the evening, Aelin is sitting on the porch staring up into the canvas sky.
There are too many stars.  It’s a miracle she can see them all being this close to the city.  But there they are.  Pinpricks of light.  How can they just sit up there like nothing?  
She almost doesn’t notice when Rowan joins her.  There’s a creak in the wood just outside the door and that’s the only warning she gets until a blanket settles around her shoulders.  She glances up with a soft smile.
“Thanks,” she says.
She doesn’t know what else to say.  She never thought she’d be here.  That they’d be here.  She’d never thought enough about what came after the drive and the tears and everything else.  She wishes she had because this is painful.  It’s too painful to think about after.  So she doesn’t.
“Don’t you think it’s strange,” she says, “the constellations are almost all the same as they are in Wendlyn?  We drove for over twenty hours and I can still see Casseopeia and the Bear and Orion’s Belt.”
He says nothing.  Aelin keeps talking.
“I suppose it’s good to be like that.  I don’t know what I would do if I looked up and suddenly everything was different,” she says. “It’s almost comforting, the way it remains.  Because I--I’ve never been good with change.  Sometimes it’s easier not to.”
She doesn’t look at him.  She doesn’t think she can.  Not when her heart is aching and her blood has gone so cold.  
It’s strange, feeling like this.  Because she knows she loves him.  And he’s said he loves her.  But believing it...believing him...it’s embarrassing how hard it is to trust that.  To know that.
Aelin looks straight at the soccer ball Evangeline left lying in the grass.  The moon and stars reflect off of the plastic.  In the distance a dog barks and a car backfires.  When her hands begin to shake, Aelin fists them in the edges of the blanket.
When Rowan speaks, the deep timber of his voice reverberates through Aelin and she finds herself relaxing, automatically leaning her shoulder against his.
“I never thought I wanted to change,” he begins, “never really wanted to.  Even after everything that happened with my dad, with Lyria.  I said I’d let life wash over me and take it.  But if there’s anything I’ve learned, Fireheart, anything that you’ve taught me--it’s that no matter what we can change.  And hell, you’ve made me better for it.  You’ve always made me better.”
His words are soft and careful.  There is so much he leaves unsaid, but Aelin hears it.  She feels it.  Once again she’s crying.  But these tears are silent and slow.  The kind that comes when her heart is too full and words are never enough.
She’s about to wipe the tears away when Rowan reaches out and snatches her hand with one of his, the other comes up to cup her chin and gently he runs his thumb over her tears.
They’re so close now and Aelin can hardly look away from him.  Even though they’re both still shadowed by the night and she can’t peer into his eyes like she so desperately wants to.  Yet, it’s enough.  The still darkness and the sounds of their careful breaths.  
Aelin knows she’s the one who moves first.  And she is not ashamed of it.
It only takes the tilt of her head and a small push forward and she is kissing him.  Maybe she should be embarrassed by her tear stained cheeks.  By the fact she was too lazy to shower even when Lysandra offered it.  There are a million other things that she could be, should be, embarrassed about.  And they all fly away.
Unlike the rest of him, his mouth is soft and gentle.  It’s such an agonizing contrast, that Aelin nearly gasps.  She melts against him just a little bit more, both amazed and proud of herself for resisting this as long as she had.
Because unlike that first hasty kissed shared in her dingy apartment, this one has no regrets.
Rowan moves against her in that way he does--controlled and utterly strong.  His mouth slants against hers and Aelin drags herself closer to him.  It’s hot and slow, gentle and desperate.  So many things are running through Aelin’s mind but she doesn’t take the time to consider them.
Instead she considers the man before her.  She considers everything she has become because of him.  With him.
And it is enough.
end.
#
Hopefully this makes up for the angst of last time hahaha.
Thanks again for the support and kind words.  My ask box is always open.  I do have some other ideas in the works...
tags:  @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @aelinchocolatelover@cicadabones
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Danganronpa 1: Pregame au
Basically: What if the DR1 cast were fans of the Danganronpa series, and auditioned themselves? What would their old lives have been like? 
Warnings: Child abuse, sexual harassment, suicide and other sensitive topics.
Makoto - just an average boy... there's nothing special about him, not at all... in fact, no one would even notice he was gone if he ended up being dying in Danganronpa. So why not go for it? There's no hope for him doing anything impressive in the real world, so maybe he can make an impact in Danganronpa. Even if it's only small. (basically still average but less optimism)
Sayaka - She'd always watched Danganronpa (her parents were busy working and just left the TV on to keep her busy) , and wished she could be like them, like the wonderful detectives that solve everything! She was a quiet girl, and kept to herself, but reckoned she could make it if they just gave her a shot. Being the protagonist and being able to get through any trial (figuratively and literally) would be a dream come true! But waiting outside the audition room, she got a little nervous and fidgety. But she had always found that singing to herself could calm her down. So she did that a little, and managed to forget all her fears. A couple of staff were staring though... was it really that bad?
Leon - never knew what he wanted to do with life. His grades were alright, but he didn't really have any jobs that related to that (especially not a lawyer). He could run relatively fast, but didn't want to spend masses of time training. He could play some guitar, but didn't want to start a band or do anything with that. All around, people were pressuring him to make decisions "You need to do this, you're so good at it!" but he didn't have any real passions... So he choose the easy way out. Danganronpa would make the decision for him.
Chihiro - never really cared what others thought of him. Sometimes he liked wearing cute dresses, sometimes he wanted to wear more masculine clothing. But he'd never doubted that he was happy with himself. Even if other people looked in mixed disgust, he brushed it all aside cause he knew he was awesome. And hey, he did have some friends! But one of these friends wasn't doing too well, and was going to join Danganronpa as an escape. Chihiro tried to convice them it was a bad idea, but they wouldn't back down. So Chihiro decided that they would audition too, so they could try to protect them a little. (it's up to interpretation who the friend is)
Mondo - always overshadowed by his older brother. He was generally a quiet kid, but had some problems with his temper when he got mad. He didn’t like it, but he often got into trouble, and no one really liked him... And he was going to be expelled if he kept this up. And his parents always seemed so disappointed, even if they never said anything...  So he decided to audition for Danganronpa. 
Ishimaru - was always a bit of a loner. He found social interaction hard, as he didn't always grasp when people were joking or not. And apparently, he often sounded like he was being sarcastic, even though that was never his intention. His father died when he was young, and his mother moved with his grandfather. The grandfather would often jokingly talk about how Ishimaru needed to do better in class (even though he was averaging 96%). Grandpa Ishi didn't do this with any malicious intentions, but the boy took it to heart, and tried studying harder and harder. 
Eventually, the stress got too much, and he needed to take a real break. Around this time, there were commercials saying "apply now for Danganronpa: THH!" (they always gave initials but never what they stood for, build the suspense you know?). And Mamma Ishi said "Look at that, you're just the right age!" She was joking of course, she would never want her son to go through something like that.  But Ishimaru was never the best as recognising what people really meant...
Hifumi - was  a special case. He had been part of the online Danganronpa community for years (he was possibly too young when he got into it, but hey, the internet you know?). He was also a pretty popular fanfic writer, and had written several successful fangans. Team Danganronpa noticed this, and knew he was just about the right age now. So they contacted him directly, and made him an offer: he should join Danganronpa... as himself! Without any brainwashing to give a new personality or talent. Of course, if he ever told anyone the truth about the killing game, he'd be killed instantly. And in exchange, all of his works would legally belong to Team Danganronpa (who could capitalise off of them however they saw fit. This lead to the first magical girl spinoff, based on one of his earlier works. Also they made a couple of animated mini-series based on his fangans. They made tons) 
Hifumi accepted.
Celestia - never had anything. She never had a family, she never had a home, she barely had an education. All she wanted was to have a better life. And after all she’d been through, she deserved to have it all! But there was no way to get it realistically. So she auditioned for Danganronpa. If only for a short while, she’d have the happiness she’d been craving, and the lifestyle to go with it. 
Sakura Oogami had always been tall for her age. And she was often insecure about it. She also enjoyed sports, which lead to her becoming a little muscly as well - which she had always thought was unsightly for a girl. At 12 years old she was 5'10, and she soon found out why. She had a rare genetic mutation, that prevented her body from stopping her growth. But of course, this had some side effects - she wasn't going to live until 18. Sakura was understandably unhappy, but decided to do something with her life until she inevitably died. She decided to keep up the training, and started to love her muscles. She tried her best to be a good example, and do good deeds... 
But then she had an idea. In her youth, she had never really had tall muscly female role models. Or if they existed - they were one dimensional 'girls who learnt to fight because they have 4 brothers' (what strong female characters). There were also the tall girls in romcoms who guys were intimidated by. Girls needed more than that... so she would be the role model! At 16, and 6'3, Sakura auditioned for Danganronpa, not caring if she survived the game or not. All she wanted... was for people to look at her and say "Wow, I wish I could be like her"
Kyoko - tried her best. After a divorce in her youth, she didn't see her father much (as her mother's family was much better off, and fought hard for custody). But she loved both her parents a lot, and always wanted to impress them. Her father seemed pleased whatever she did, and her mother always told her she was proud. Her mother's family were very involved in her life, and seemed to question everything her mother did. It was only because they wanted the best for her of course! Remember what we said about Jin? And you went and married him anyway! Look how that turned out! 
 As she grew older - maybe 10 years old? - Kyoko saw her extended family in a harsher light. If they never had anything nice to say, why say it? She tried to stand up for her mother, but was laughed away, and her mother was criticised for not teaching her respect for her elders. But she was spending more weekends with her father now, and her parents seemed to be getting on better than before. Not good enough that they'd try again (yet), but it was better than nothing. And for the first time in years, Kyoko was able to spend time with both parents.
Unfortunately when she was 15, Kyoko's dad was given a new job... in a different country. And he promised he would visit, those times seemed few and far between. And during one of these times... her mother killed herself. And it seemed that she had been the one shielding Kyoko all these years. Without her, all the family's expectations were placed on Kyoko, pressuring her to do things she didn't enjoy. And it had been months since she'd last heard from her father... maybe he'd forgotten about her (her family wouldn't let his letters go through) 
 So she signed up for Danganronpa to get away. But as fate would have it, her father visited the day she was taken away for the game. He desperately pleaded to be let in. Heck, he'd even go through the game to save his daughter! And in a way, his wish was granted. Kyoko was intended to die in chapter 5, but with a connection to an extra like this? She could survive... plus, they had been looking for a headmaster.
Byakuya - was unsatisfied with his life. His father gave him gifts, but no love. All the toys he could want! But he was too busy to celebrate Christmas together. A great TV! But never a nice meal out. Whatever he wanted, except time together. His mother had died young, and Byakuya grew up lonely. But he understood, his father was a busy man after all. His father had plenty of expectations, and Byakuya tried to live up to them. His father never smiled at him, but he was always told "You're doing well boy." and that was enough. It was his father's way of showing affection... wasn't it? 
 He got though life, and he did a good job of it too. He was all set up to go to the most prestigious college, and go on to take over the company... but when he though about that future... he didn't enjoy the thought of it. He only saw himself growing up exactly like his father... and he hated the thought. Now Byakuya was going through that rebellious phase. And he wanted to do something new. Something his father would never approve of... Danganronpa. He was going to reinvent his image. When people thought Togami, they wouldn't think about the finance company, they'd remember the double murderer. And maybe his father could find someone else to take over.
Aoi - wasn't happy with her body. As long as she could remember, people had made comments about how attractive she was, and how they couldn't believe how young she was, she was so mature for her age (in personality, of course)! She loved donuts, but always got comments about she shouldn't eat so much, she'd get fat. She always felt judged for her interests. "You like Danganronpa? Name the favourite colour of the first person killed in the third chapter of Danganronpa 12: Failure and Puhuhu." (which is pretty hard, cause the murder was incredibly complicated and 5 people ended up dying, but not in the order they were found (one of who killed another after their own death)). But at least on the internet, there were people who didn't treat her like that. Until she worked up the courage to post a selfie of her cosplay. 
 She ended up auditioning for Danganronpa, if only to say "Do I know Danganronpa? I was in it fucker." one day. But she had one request if she got in - she didn't want to wear a mini-skirt.
Hagakure - was a bum. A complete and utter waste to society. He had been held back too many times. He didn't want it to be like this, but he could just never retain information the way other people could. He tried every studying technique, every book that said "NEVER STRUGGLE IN SCHOOL AGAIN IN 5 EASY STEPS!" but it didn't work. He tried his best, but he could never do it. And he hated it. He wanted to get a good job, to make his mama proud, but he could never do it, because he was just too stupid! He was a little too old to enrol in his school (and he made the staff look bad at official inspections), so he was officially hired as a janitor and was allowed to attend classes. (But hey, seeing as he was a student, they could technically pay him less than minimum wage. They wouldn't pay the student council now, would they?) 
 Hagakure wanted more. He couldn't do another year of trying and failing. He couldn't take the looks his younger, better classmates gave him. He couldn't. And there was no age limit for Danganronpa... you only needed to be in high school - which he was. It was worth a shot, if only to rid the world of his utter uselessness.
Toko - couldn't go on. Her mother and father hated her. Everyone hated her. She couldn't do anything right. She took the first chance to audition, and in the process she ended up spilling her entire life story. "Ah, I'm so sorry, I bet you're not at all interested in someone like me, I'll just leave now and save you the pain." But Team Danganronpa were interested (and hey, this saved them writing their own backstory! Just change that father to another mother (they're not lesbians, it's just very convoluted) and you're ready to go!). 
 Toko often found herself with blank spaces in her memory. The first was when she was locked in a cupboard for an entire day, but it didn't feel that long. She assumed she just passed out from not eating enough. But that wasn't quite true. Due to her trauma, she'd developed a severe case of DID (which went undiagnosed for years). This second personality was not a serial killer, was not a psychopath, was not objectively evil, and was not [insert negative DID stereotype here] 
 Team Danganronpa took one look at the potential of a 'split personality' character and simultaneously thought "It's free real estate"
Mukuro and Junko - They were twins of course, and had been kicked out onto the streets. It was them against the world. But they always stayed together. They were all the other had. While Mukuro became saddened by the world, Junko became angry. But they couldn't give up. Mukuro tried to make friends, to find a small jobs she could do - even if i meant she could only buy McDonalds for the two of them every day or so. Junko didn't try as much. Sure, she did some things when she could, but she wasn't going to give more back to the world than she had to. She was mostly dependant on Mukuro still. 
Mukuro wanted to create a new life. She found a job where the store manager was willing to turn a blind eye and let them stay in a small backroom. But Junko wasn't so happy. Whilst the manager was willing to let them stay for seemingly nothing, he was awfully pushy towards her. She smiled back, doing as little as she could without making him angry. She didn't want to be kicked out again. 
But she ran out of patience when the manager made a request that was too much. "That room's awfully cramped for the two of you. Why don't you spend the night at my place tonight? You can even sleep on a proper bed for once." Junko knew what he wanted. And like hell she was going to let him have it. She told Mukuro they needed to go, now. She didn't say the reason, but Mukuro knew she must have a reason. 
 Long story short - Junko stole a car. And they drove to the audition building. "We're going to join Danganronpa."  "What?" "It's better than what we have there. And we'll get nice food restocked everyday. And a school roof over our heads (unless we're in a resort DR, which would be even nicer)." 
 Junko and Mukuro auditioned separately, and Team Danganronpa let slip they were very interested in having a game with twins. Junko made a few comments too. "Wow, it'd be pretty tragic if one of the twins died, and the other had to live with the other's death until the final chapter." Team DR chuckled a little. "But if you try something like that... 
 "Please kill the one named Junko."
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Text
He Stayed Quiet
Hey guys!!! So, recently, I listened to a beautiful song by @lovelylangst (seriously, it’s so beautiful I still get goosebumps listening to it, so hit them up if you want to listen to it.)  I wrote down the lyrics at the end, but the words themselves don’t do the song enough justice.
Anyway, I got some of the greatest inspiration to write a little something based off of that song.  And here it is!  I hope y’all enjoy.
(Trigger warning for abuse.)
Being quiet was harder than most people would think.  Especially for Lance, who was always so bubbly and happy and smiling.  If there was noise in the Castle, it was because he was making it.  He couldn’t sneak around the Garrison as Hunk or Pidge could.  He was always the one who bumped into a table, knocked something over, and alerted Iverson or whoever was on duty that there were cadets out after curfew.
He was the one who would get kicked out of the library because he was laughing too hard and too loud.  Yes, Lance, you really are being that loud. Pidge would roll their eyes and say.
He was the person who had no clue how much noise he was actually making.
He was the person who couldn’t quite grasp that whispering and talking were two different things until he was well into fourth grade.  Sometimes distinguishing between yelling and talking were difficult for him.
His entire life, people were always telling him to be quiet: his older siblings, his teachers, his friends, the librarian, his parents, the list goes on and on.  But now, no one was telling him to quiet himself.
Lance was doing it on his own.
Shiro was different.  Lance knew.  He had had his suspicions for a while, but now that Shiro was getting more violent, it was getting harder and harder to believe that he hadn’t been changed by his second stay with the Galra.  Maybe Keith had been Shiro’s impulse control, but the possibility of Keith being anyone’s impulse control was laughable.
It first happened when Lance had interrupted the black paladin in the middle of a strategy meeting.  There was a flaw in the plan that could have caused Pidge to become overrun if they weren’t paying attention at the exact right moment.  He didn’t even realize that Shiro had been talking until the damage was already done.
The Galran arm’s metal fingers were digging into the meat of Shiro’s bicep.  There was murder in the dark-grey eyes currently trying to bore a hole through the red paladin.  Lance had never before felt so small, so insignificant, and so inconsequential.
That mission had gone by without a hitch.  Pidge’s infiltration went effortlessly well, and they were able to avoid the guards that undoubtedly would have caught them otherwise.  Lance was feeling pretty good about himself.  He was laughing loudly with Hunk about some story that Coran was telling them.  Neither of them knew exactly what was being described, but the faces that the Altean was making and the sound effects he was somehow generating had them howling with laughter.
Pidge had come in somewhere in the middle of the story, and they had laid their head on Lance’s lap.  They silently thanked him with their eyes and didn’t protest when the red paladin ruffled their already ruffled hair playfully.
Allura entered not long after, and her eyes lit up when she heard Coran’s story.  She interjected her own points every few words.  Her eyes lit up in pure joy; not even Lance’s cheesy flirting could bring her down.
All good and happy things had to come to an end, however.  Lance excused himself to take care of business.  Pidge hissed when their head fell to the cushion, its pillow having left.  They glared good-naturedly at him as he rounded the corner, a smile still on his face when he ran into a wall of muscle.
Shiro stood in his way, his arms were crossed in front of his chest, with his prosthetic in front.  That was new.  Usually, his other arm hid the metal one from view as if he were ashamed of it.  His face was as hard as the metal posing as flesh.
The black paladin was taller than the others by a few inches at the most -excluding Pidge- but now, Lance felt like he needed to look two feet above himself just to look the team leader in the eyes.
“Lance!  You’re just the person I was looking for!”  His voice wasn’t normal.  It wasn’t robotic, but the enthusiasm seemed incredibly forced and insincere.  The casual ups and downs of his voice were the same, but they still weren’t right.
Lance kept the smile plastered to his face from his time with the other paladins.  “Yeah, I just need to run to the restroom really quick; I’ll be right back!”  He pushed past Shiro.  The hallways were tight enough as it was without a giant from one of Coran’s stories blocking his way.
The Galran shot out and grabbed Lance’s upper arm, squeezing tightly and pressing him up against the wall.
“Shiro?  Can this wait for like, two minutes?  I really gotta pee.”  Lance raised an eyebrow at the older man.
Fingers dug further into Lance’s arm, and the tips of his fingers started to tingle slightly.  “I just wanted to thank you.”  Shiro smiled, but the motion didn’t reach his eyes; it barely even reached his mouth.  “For graciously interrupting me during the meeting.  We never would have been able to spot such an obvious and vital problem if it weren’t for you.”
Lance’s dark blue eyes widened slightly.  “Oh, sorry about that.  I’ll be honest I wasn’t listening that closely because I saw-”
“Oh, my mistake,” Shiro said.  His voice was dripping with something that Lance couldn’t quite identify.  “If you weren’t paying attention, I guess all is forgiven.”  His grip hadn’t let up slightly since they started this conversation, and Lance’s hand was beginning to go numb at an alarming rate.
He smiled shyly back at the leader.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, and I really don’t mean to cut this conversation short, but unless you want me to go right here, and right now, I really need to use the restroom.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” Shiro spat.  He curled the metal fingers deeper into Lance’s muscles before he released it.
Feeling came back to his arm as blood rushed to where it was supposed to be.  It felt like he had dipped his entire left arm in near-boiling water for a split second and pulled it out just as fast, burning hot then freezing cold.  He massaged the area that Shiro’s hand had dug into as he made his way to the communal toilets.
As soon as he was finished, he rolled his sleeve up to expose the flesh that was already starting to darken from a light brown to a dark black.  He hissed as he felt around the tender skin gently.
It was in the precise shape of a handprint.
The door swung open, and Hunk stuck his head into the room.  “Oh, there you are!”  He laughed.  “We were starting to wonder if you had gotten lost.”  He went to the sink right next to Lance’s to wash his hands.  “I tried to give Pidge a piggy-back ride because Allura and Coran didn’t know what one was, and the little goblin licked me!  Not even slightly.  There was so much tongue and saliva involved.  I am even more terrified of them than I was at the Garrison.”  He raised his eyes to look at Lance through the mirror.  “Woah, where did you get that?”  He gestured vaguely with his chin toward the fresh bruise.
Lance quickly rolled his sleeve down and wracked his brain for an explanation other than ‘Shiro went Alpha on me’ and settled on: “Oh, during the last mission I had a little run-in with a guard.  He caught me a little unaware.  That’s all.”  He threw one of his award-winning smiles in the mix as well.
Hunk pouted his lip out slightly and looked skeptically at his friend in the mirror.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  That looks pretty rough.”
“It’s nothing.  I’m sure I’ll be fine soon enough.”  He smiled and slapped Hunk’s shoulders.  “Now what do you say we show the Princess and Coran what a real piggyback ride looks like?”
Things weren’t fine soon enough.  During training sessions, Shiro would hit him a little too hard a little too often.  The handprint on his arm had taken two weeks to heal.  For those two weeks, he had trouble aiming his bayard, and it showed.  He almost hit Pidge rather than the console that he was supposed to be hitting.  He did hit Hunk instead of a training bot one day.
Shiro hit him harder, more often.
Once, when Lance found himself on the ground, he pushed himself up and felt something in his chest snap.  A broken rib, he was told.
He really should take it easy on those missions, and not get himself hurt.
It became rare to see Lance without any blemishes on his once pristine and perfect skin.  He never wore short-sleeved shirts anymore, not that he had in the first place, but he started making sure that that’s all his wardrobe consisted of anymore.  He asked Coran for concealer after he ‘ran into a doorframe’ and he was cursed with a black eye.
Pidge just rolled their eyes because ‘they knew he was clumsy, but this is a new level, Lance.’
One by one, they all slowly stopped noticing every new injury that Lance was sporting.
One by one, they stopped noticing how Lance would never speak at team meetings anymore.
One by one, they stopped caring.
And through it all, the hurts, the bruises, and the false smiles, Lance stayed quiet.
Thank you so much for reading this; I really hope you like it!
Here’s the song that this was based off of, but seriously, hit them up to listen to them singing it.  You won’t regret it.
I stayed quiet
I didn’t tell a single soul
I stayed quiet
And its the truth I hold
I let you bruise me
I let you break
And I stayed quiet
With the force it takes
I didn’t want to sully
Ruin your good name
So I stayed quiet, once again
Oh, I stayed quiet*
I made it my place*
I stayed quiet*
Even though it was fake*
I stayed quiet*
Ruin my name*
I stayed quiet*
From all the things I could say*
I stayed quiet*
Oh, I stayed quiet*
Yes, I stayed quiet*
Oh, I stayed quiet*
You ask me why* I stay quiet*
Is cuz I-I* had to deny* it
If I did it, I would end up
Like that girl, you left*
Buried in the dirt*
I stayed quiet*
Yes, I stayed quiet*
Oh, I stayed quiet*
Yes, I stayed quiet*
I stayed quiet
Didn’t ruin your name
Didn’t sully your fame
Didn’t take the blame
I stayed quiet
And in return
All I do is get hurt
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splinteredsinner · 5 years
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Mentions: Jamie B (ex), Parents, Sister, Marcel, Katherine, William and Madeline. Location: Mystic Falls, her home. Triggers: Distress, Grief, Abuse, Hallucinations, Language. 
Aria had been keeping to herself these last few weeks. The fact her ex knew she was alive wasn’t ideal, nor was the followers of his he kept sending to watch her. Naturally, the vampires paranoia about who was around her was high at all times, but after she spotted and killed the tenth follower he sent, you could say she’d loosened up and dropped her guard a few inches. Almost like she’d begun to expect the people who loved him rather than the man himself - she wasn’t afraid of them, only him, not that she would admit that, not even to herself. Aria was on her home to pack for New Orleans, naturally, she wanted to be in the company of her family and home city. The wind was calm and with a few drinks in her system, she wasn’t paying much attention as she walked up her drive, noticing the front door was cracked open only when she was a couple steps away. People letting themselves into her home without an invite had become something of a bad habit these days, so with a roll of her eyes she pushed the door open and dropped her keys on the table. Maybe it was Marcel. Katherine? William or even Madeline? “You know, doors get locked for a reason,” she called out in mild annoyance as she walked to the living area, figuring that’s where she would find the culprit. Instead, what she found when she turned the corner, was three human-sized stuffed dolls hanging from her lights. “What th-” her words were cut off and she was brought to her knees by a pair of hands that took a nasty grip on the sides of her head.
The searing pain had her close to tears so when it stopped? A big breath fell from her lungs. “That was not very nice.” Aria hissed, though she had no idea who she was addressing. Her eyes opened and she blinked at the floor as she rose back to her feet in a slight haze. It was only when she looked back up at the dolls that all the oxygen in the room seemed to be sucked right out. Gone were the dolls and there hung the bodies of her parents and sister exactly how she recalled seeing them on that dreadful day. “No,” she whispered, her feet stumbling backwards. The vampire would have fallen to the ground without being halted by a bruising grip on her arm and a fist in the back of her hair so she couldn’t turn away. Logically she knew this couldn’t be real, that it was some trippy witchy juju, but that didn’t matter. This might not be real right now, but it was real back then. If ever there was a memory that could pierce through every tough layer of her skin, it was this. The tears were already blurring her vision and a choked sob that she forced back down her throat could be heard when she heard the whisper of her holder in her ear. “My sweet Aria, how I have missed you.” Goosebumps prickled all across her skin as she didn't need to see the face to know exactly who that voice belonged to. “Jamie.” Without vampire hearing, his name wouldn’t even be audible. Aria desperately wanted to fight her way out his grip but it was like every inch of her was as frozen as it was locked in his grasp. 
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“Do you like the view? You know I always dabbled in theatrics, I thought this would remind you of the good old days,” he cooed in her ear. By now, her eyes were already fixated on her family in spite of the fact she knew it was a hallucination. Any sassy remarks she might have had were gone in the wind, she couldn’t even utter a syllable, let alone a sentence. Fuck. Marcel was right - as always. She couldn’t do this alone, she wasn’t brave, she wasn’t fearless or strong, not when it came to her ex. Aria had never allowed herself to process everything he did to her and what he did to her family and it showed in the way he managed to silence and glue her to the ground with one vision. “Little much, Ari?” Jamie taunted, giving a whistle which she only assumed was a signal because, in the next few seconds, the room returned to its original state. Aria could once again see the dolls but it did little to help her breathe - mostly, she was just trying not to let her legs give way. If she was honest with herself she felt like if a black hole swallowed her up right now it would be a blessing. Removing the hand he curled in her hair, he used the one he had on her arm to swing her body around and face him. 
As if it was pure instinct her eyes had dropped down to avoid his face, not that it mattered much when the grip on her jaw forced her head up. Face to face, eye to eye, she dared not speak because if she did, it wouldn’t just be the misty eyes he saw, he’d hear the shake in her voice. “You’ve changed a lot over the decades. Darkness becomes you, Miss. Hale,” leaning back to look at her black attire. “And that vicious attitude, I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised. Do tell me, was it I who inspired the vixen in you? I do hope so, I might not be your sire, but I am your creator.” Jamie loosened his grip on her jaw to caress her cheek. “Stop.” Finally, she bit at him, turning her cheek away from his touch in an instant. “You didn’t make me. I made me.” For these fleeting moments at least, her fury had pushed down any fear that was churning in her stomach, much to his amusement. “She speaks,” he beamed a charming smile and let go of her, almost like he knew she was too shocked to move or attack him quite yet. “You were always my favourite. The way you submitted to my every whim and desire,” there was a sickening purr to his tone that only fuelled the bubbling rage slipping through her bones and into her blood. “I really did love you, Aria,” Jamie admitted, pulling a scoff from Aria’s lips.
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Whatever he felt for her was not love, she knew that now, he wasn’t able to convince her otherwise. Aria wasn’t that naive little girl anymore, she knew a manipulative man when she saw one and with that in mind, she straightened her posture and held his gaze. “You may have gotten under my skin back then but you don’t have that power over me anymore. Whatever you’re here to do, get it done.” Her tone was as solid as her stance. Certain he was here to end her like he tried to do all those years ago, she’d be damned if she let him take her down a shaky, vulnerable mess. “What do you think I’m here to do?” Jamie suddenly looked overly amused. “I was going to turn you that night your King interrupted. It was all such a tragic misunderstanding.” He sighed. “I felt as though he had snatched you away from me and I acted out of blind rage in response to losing you.” He was referring to what he did to her family and the fact he even said it had her entire expression twisting in disgust and confusion. She would never know if that was true or not and honestly she didn’t care either. “Or at least I assumed I lost you. But here you are. Alive and...” he paused, blowing out an appreciative whistle. “Time has been very kind to you. Aria, I’m not here to kill you, I’m here wondering if you could be as loyal to me now as you were back then.” What the fuck. She thought. He looked so serious and that’s because he was. He was just that delusional to think she would, for a second, want to be anything other than his demise. 
“You must be fucking joking,” she snarled. Not to her surprise, his response was a harsh slap that he didn’t give her time to retaliate to. Her back was slammed against the wall and his hand was around her throat. Aria thought digging her nails into his chest would make him loosen up but he didn’t even flinch. In fact, there was a glimmer in his eyes like he almost enjoyed the pain. “Is that a no?” Unable to speak through his choking hold, she chose to respond by dragging her nails down his chest, ripping at least half an inch into his skin. Jamie hissed, but it didn’t last long before he started laughing. “Tell me something,” his eyes were on the already healing wounds before they turned to her left hip. “If I’m so far in your past,” his free hand tugged at the side of her jeans, pulling them just enough to display the mark he’d branded into her skin so many moons ago. “Why haven’t you covered this over?” Turning his gaze back to her, he almost looked curious, enough to allow her to reply, so it seemed. Aria breathed and swallowed now she had the room to do so and she faintly shook her head. “It reminds me never to be so naive again.” She was honest, at least, right before she delivered a harsh knee to his gut followed by a punch to his face.
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He laughed before he swung back and the two brawled violently for a good minute, smashing through the tables, cabinets, turning over the chairs and spilling blood all across the front room. This was what she was good at, god damn it. Fighting vampires? She did that for sport. Except, it was never easy. Usually, the risk of losing was what she enjoyed, but the risk of losing to him was throwing her way off her game. With a split second decision to turn her gaze to a weapon to use against him, he used it to dig his hand into her chest cavity. Aria cried out and if it hadn’t been for him stilling her body, she’d have probably caused her own death by wriggling. “Now look what you’ve made me do?” He snapped, pulling his hand out only to grip her face with the same one, smearing her own blood all over her jaw and cheek. “You’ll come back to me, Aria, or so help me, I’ll turn your two favourite hunters inside out and feed them to your King,” he was furious, it showed in every crease on his face. Aria didn’t want anything to happen to William and Madeline and she knew he wasn’t bluffing when he said he would hurt them. “Now, I’ll give you time to think about it, but one word to anyone, especially Marcel...” He whistled and shook his head. “It would be a very big mistake.” Dipping down, he forced a kiss upon her forehead. Aria squeezed her eyes shut and when she felt him let go, she opened her eyes to find an empty house. Her legs no longer even tried to hold her weight now he’d left and she collapsed to the floor with a broken cry. Jamie would make good on his threats, they were like his promises. She already knew what she had to do. Keep Marcel in the dark, push William and Madeline far away from her and figure out how to put Jamie down, alone. 
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foggymagic · 6 years
Text
Noblesse Pokémon AU: Battling For Dear Life (part 2)
Previous Fic
Finally. Those kids had left. Frankenstein sighed, and got to the task of cleaning up, Gardevoir offering some psychic assistance for crumbs and Giratina using its dark tentacles to pick up some of the larger pieces of trash. He smiled at them, grateful. The kids always made such a mess, but Master enjoyed their company, so he supposed he could tolerate it. Especially when he had such helpful Pokémon to make sure he didn’t have to do all the work.
 After the three had finished cleaning, and he’d sat down for late night tea with Master, his phone began to ring. At this hour? Looking at it revealed the caller as Shinwoo. He hadn’t been gone for more than twenty minutes. He didn’t see anything they could have left when he was tidying up. He’d have set it aside if he did. So why? The only way to find up was to answer, so… “Professor Lee speaking.”
 “Rai~! We haven’t seen you for a while. The three of us are here together, and we all miss you so much.” What? “You have to come. We will be waiting.” Wait. What was Shinwoo doing? “Yea, come over. We’re here at…” That location. The one where he’d fought that man? Before the woman interfered? That was…off.
 “Master, we need to go now.” He’d brief him on the way there. There might not be enough time, otherwise. Master didn’t waste any time, elegantly standing and walking to the door, completely trusting in his servant’s judgement.
 The two were soaring through the air, jumping rooftop to rooftop when he found the words to explain. “The call from Shinwoo didn’t sound right.” To elaborate his point, he replayed the conversation through the bond. 
“They were with us a while ago, he shouldn’t have talked like that.” Unless they got just got lonely that quickly, but in less than twenty minutes? That was extravagantly fast by anyone’s standards, “And talking to me on the phone as if he’s talking to you, master….” That was the real clencher there. Shinwoo knew damn well whose phone he’d have to call to get in contact with Master, and you didn’t just talk to the chairman of your high school like that, regardless of how close your relationship was.
“I think they are in danger.” Master’s expression, normally placid, took a hard edge at the idea. He sped up, making it hard for Frankenstein to catch up. “Ah! Master! You don’t know the direction we need to go!”
They were approaching the location, two figures fighting on a rooftop blurrily visible when a voice rang out. “…Not just subjects you guys can use and get rid of!” M-21’s impassioned cry filled the ears of the fast approaching Frankenstein and his master.
 The blue haired woman across from M-21 stared down at the floor. She calmly stated, “No. You are our consumables. You are failures that we can use and throw away any time we want.” Her voice was…off. Like a child repeating a phrase they’d been taught as truth. M-21 was shocked into silence. He’d known how the Union viewed him, but to hear it spoken aloud so matter of fact….
 “What?” She was joking, right? “I don’t…” he landed with a flourish, before finishing his sentence, “like how that sounds….” That tired Union party line. It was the same excuse they’d given for abandoning Dark Spear. They were just as upset at hearing it again as he was.
 A Liepard came from the shadows to circle around the woman’s legs, rubbing against them. “What is that man doing here? Does it have something to do with the kids here?” Well, she’d never know that. If it became common knowledge that he owned a school…he shuddered to think of the consequences. Normal humans had a much greater chance of survival against a power user if they had a Pokémon, but most of his students just had starters, hardly any more threatening than the children themselves. From his previous encounter with her, he wasn’t entirely sure he could take her himself. Not without breaking the seal on his powers, at any rate. Then she’d be gone, no challenge at all. But where was the fun in that?
 “Listen. The organization’s facility is at the basement here. The kids are in danger.” Oh? Well that was useful information. He’d almost missed the grey-haired man talking to them. What was with the determined look on his face when he was so beat up? “I’ll stop her. You two get down there.”
Honestly. “You can’t fight her on your own.” At all. The amount of time he’d buy them blocking her here wasn’t even worth mentioning.
 “That’s funny, M-21. You didn’t come to your senses?” She smiled coldly, the kind of cruel amusement from watching an insect struggle written across every pore. “You think a failed subject like you can stop me? Not even for a minute.” Well, she wasn’t wrong, but the haughty superiority she exuded with each word made Frankenstein want to tear her apart even more than he already did. He really hated attitudes like that.
 “This situation tells me that you know these two. Now I understand why you interfered whenever we tried to kill the kids.” M-21 didn’t answer her, so she continued on anyway. “You’re pathetic to trust them and plan this. If you thought they could fight me, you’re a fool.” Heh, please. Master would kill her before she could blink if he chose. Hopefully he’d leave it to him though. He didn’t want his master using his power for someone as insignificant as this.
M-21 growled in frustration. “There’s no time for this. I don’t know if the kids are alive. I think my colleague is blocking Jake, but…” M-21 swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing. “Help my colleague. Please.”
 A moment of silence passed before Master spoke. “Frankenstein.”
 “Yes.” He was listening. Master’s orders were absolute, and he was ever eager to fulfill them.
 “I’m going in.” Not ‘let’s go’. So, he was going in alone.
 “Yes, sir.” He wasn’t particularly happy with the idea that Master might have to fight, but it was his decision. This was the more efficient route anyway. He’d just wrap things up as quickly as he could here and join him after.
 Master turned to M-21. “Lead the way.” The grey-haired man froze in place, probably in shock. Come on, we don’t have time for this nonsense. “You said we don’t have time.”
 Still, the man turned to ask Frankenstein, “You really okay?” He nodded in response. Honestly. What was it going to take for this guy to just go? “This way” Master followed M-21 without another word.
“You can’t get away like that.” The woman moved to block them. In a split second, Frankenstein was in her way. 
“I guess I’m your match.” With a glare, the woman drew back just enough to unleash a spin attack using her nails as weapons. Frankenstein dodged with ease. “You’re not as good as you said you were.” A smug expression graces his features in the face of her incredulous one.
She pulled back a bit, and the Liepard rushed him, leaping and landing a sucker punch to his abdomen before he could start in on his counterattack. Frankenstein staggered back a bit. An unexpected blow to the right spot could still wind anyone, even a noble, and in some cases, werewolves. He’d seen it happen before, been the one to deal such blows. He enjoyed doing so. Being on the receiving end…it was unpleasant.
After a cough and a deep breath, he grinned. “So that’s how you want to play.” Oh. This would be fun. He didn’t get to have real Pokémon battles often. What was once just another tool and aspect of war was now simple sport, like so many other things. Which ones did he have on him though? Most of them were back at home, enjoying some free time outside of their balls.
He reached for his belt, running his fingertips across the embossed seals he’d used to decorate their Pokéballs. He’d brought two with him then, good. Hmm…Shuckle? No, this was a rescue mission, not a siege. The other one? Oh. His smirk turned absolutely devilish.
He drew the ball from its resting place on his belt and threw it with a flourish. It stopped in midair, releasing its contents, along with a shower of holographic confetti and fireworks, before returning to his hand like he’d thrown a boomerang. Those seals were a worthwhile investment. Anything worth doing was worth doing with style. Judging by miss blue hair’s disgusted look though, she disagreed. Ah, well.
“Really? You’re going to fight me with a steak?” That tended to be most people’s response to this situation. There weren’t many who used this Pokémon in battle. Save that one Osakan Gym Leader.
“No. I’m fighting you with the whole damn cow.” Frankenstein quirked an eyebrow. Oh, he could not wait to curb-stomp this bitch. “Miltank? Double team.” The bovine before him began moving at a pace far too fast for ordinary humans to see, leaving after images as doppelgangers to confuse opponents. “You know what to do after that.”
The Liepard went in for a Night Slash on the Miltank at the same moment the woman moved to attack Frankenstein, both missing again and again, before Frankenstein released an attack of his own, dark whip-like energy encircling the woman’s right arm and slicing it from wrist to shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain from her.
“You’re good, I’ll give you that.” Oh, he was more than good. She wouldn’t realize that until it was too late though. Pity, that. “You’re not like anyone I’ve dealt with.”
Her flesh began to bubble a bit, arms growing spikes of bone before the spikes and her arms turned carbon black, veins of phosphorescent blue tracing from her newly formed claws all the way up to where her flesh returned to normal at her shoulders. That’s…he’d made notes about that once. A way to copy werewolf abilities. So, that human supremacy organization had managed to make something of that data. He could have sworn it was part of what he’d taken with him to keep them from abusing it though. Part of the same journal he’d recorded his theories about soul weapons in. Her arm appeared healed however, so maybe not?
“It’s been a while since I’ve met someone that made me transform.” A haughty, superior smile crossed her face. “It’ll be different from now.” So he couldn’t keep an eye on Miltank and Liepard’s fight anymore. That was fine. Miltank could handle herself.
With a glare, she ran at him, dealing a blow that cracked the concrete even as Frankenstein dodged. Without missing a beat she reached his landing spot and attacked again. The blond man only barely dodged with a tilt of his head. “What’s wrong? Where’s all the confidence you had?” The woman’s lilted voice oozed amusement. “You’re not smiling anymore.”
Her speed and power were greatly enhanced after she’d transformed. It wasn’t easy to modify someone like that. Humans had come this far? Not just mimicking some of the werewolves’ physical attributes, but boosting abilities to this degree? This could be troublesome.
 Frankenstein.
Master?
I allow you to break the seal keeping your power repressed. Oh? He’d not let him lift the seal once since it was first applied. Master must be highly displeased by whatever was going on down below. 
I, your master, Cadis Etrama di Raizel order you to destroy the enemy that stands in front of you.
“Yes, Master.” His aura began to swirl like a breeze around him. “Break…the seal.” With each word, a dark power leaked, invading his aura in ever growing spikes. The woman before him cringed, looking to her arm, the wounds reacting to his power and aching in response. “What’s wrong? Your arm didn’t heal?” Oh? So it was based on his research.
“I doubted you at first, but now I can tell from your response. Want to know why?” He couldn’t wait to see her expression. “Everything about you guys. It all started from me.” They had to still be using his research as the base. He’d made sure to warp it so everything made from it would be weak to his attacks. Dark Spear tended to cling inside of wounds anyway, feeding on the bits of soul carried in blood, but it was so much worse for those enhanced by copying his techniques, slowing their healing factors until they were the same as an ordinary human’s.
“What?” The woman was dumbfounded. Poor thing, it can’t be easy knowing you’re face to face with the father of human enhancement, the original and best enhanced human in existence. “What…do you mean?”
“I was allowed to break the seal on my power by Master, so I became a little emotional.” He couldn’t help it, really. No one had truly known of his brilliance in centuries. But saying anything more risked that damnable organization hunting him again. “That’s it.” Still. This wouldn’t last much longer. The first fight he’d had in a long while, and it was ending in the blink of an eye. How boring. “This is annoying.”
He raised a hand in the air, focusing the energy into spears before directing them at the woman faster than she could blink. They fatally impaled her where she stood. Or…they should have. It seems the spear he sent towards her heart missed, just a bit. Even so, she was unconscious, and should be dead soon without aid. But…it was best to finish her off. Just in case.
Within a few steps towards her, the Liepard blocked his movement to protect her, hissing and growling at him. The large cat was covered in blood, jaw dislocated, several bones broken and hoof prints from his Miltank scattered across the creature’s back like its spots. How had it even gotten here from the fight with his Miltank, damaged as it was?
Where was his Miltank? Oh. She was walking over, presumably to finish off the cat like he was the woman. A tyrant his Blissey may be, but she had nothing on his Miltank’s casual sadism. Miltank enjoyed toying with her ‘prey’. A strange mindset for an herbivorous Pokémon, but that was the very reason he kept her. Better she be with him than a danger to others.
He recalled her to her ball. The Liepard was damaged enough, and Miltank would only drag its death out more than she already had. He went to approach again, but the Liepard lashed out with a swipe of its paw, its growling growing louder in response. This was…protective behavior? Last he’d heard, the organization harshly abused the Pokémon it captured, subjecting them to forced evolution, behavioral adjustment experiments, even attempted hybridization. But these…these were not actions of an abused Pokémon. There was no cowering, no aggression, beyond what it was doing to him, a perceived threat to it and its trainer.
Was this woman actually a good trainer? For a Pokémon to show such loyalty to someone like her. And this wasn’t just any household pet. Dark types were notoriously picky when it came to their trainers. They had to be, when they had such a bad reputation. Bad omens, born evil they were called. It didn’t help that they were known to kill their trainers. It only happened when they were mistreated, but most people just looked at the typing and figured it was part of their nature. Rather than the truth, that Pokémon, regardless of type, were just as varied in personality and motivation as people. And just like people, most were only trying to live their lives, and had no particular desire to cause harm.
How to handle this though? Master had ordered him to destroy her, but this was an interesting development he wanted to observe more. He could take them both back home. Heal them. Destroying her current self would be fulfilling Master’s order, right? He crouched where he was, speaking softly, placatingly, to the Liepard.
 “I can save her.” The Liepard sat, glaring unbelievingly, but listening all the same. “Neither of you ever have to go back to the place you came from, either. I’ll make sure of it. But if you don’t let me treat her wounds, she’ll die.” And likely so would the Liepard, but it was far easier to treat Pokémon wounds that it was humans.
 The Liepard nodded, slowly moving out of the way, allowing him passage. Frankenstein grabbed the white Pokéball off her belt, recalling the Leipard into it before placing it into an empty slot on his own belt. It’d be in stasis within the ball, so time would no longer be a factor for treating its injuries. Now for her injuries. Hmm.
 They were serious, but if he bound the wounds, it would increase the amount of time he had to treat her exponentially, so he could just use the lab at his home to do so. He’d be able to just carry her with him while he aided Master without too much trouble. But he hadn’t carried any medical tools with him…an oversight on his part when he expected to be treating severely injured children. Ripping strips of fabric off his suit jacket, he sighed.
 “This is the second jacket this group has ruined.” They really had no respect for the effort he went through to look nice for a fight.
I’ve gained quite the liking for Mari lately, so she’s living in this AU. 
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kneesheee · 6 years
Text
Descendants
Nothing Else Matters
WARNINGS: References to Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, References to Sex
It all started with Cruella. A lady so evil and so insane that she made her own son into her slave. But her son was gone. Condemning her to life on the Isle while he ran into the sunset with that furry mutt on his heels.
However, there was one more person that Cruella had to keep her entertained. Her son’s girlfriend, Faline Cheshire, who despite not liking Cruella for her treatment of Carlos absolutely adored her fashion sense. So while Carlos was living it big in Auradon, Faline was getting her hands onto any kind of fabric she could and paying Cruella to make clothes for her and her friends. Strangely enough, this is what keeps Cruella calm and before you know it, De Vil’s Fashion is back to being a big name even if it is only on the Isle. Cruella started giving kids work to keep them off of the streets and teaching them designing. Faline being her top and favorite student. Always dressed in one of a kind De Vil clothing. Even a fashion line dedicated purely for her.
But Faline didn’t stop there. She goes on to the Evil Queen and asks for beauty lessons to go alongside her new clothes. This kept the Evil Queen’s mind off of her daughter. When Faline was too busy with her fashion designing at Hell Hall, she sent her best friend, Diamond Hearts, to the Castle-Across-The-Way to learn beauty tips. The two quickly looking for any kind of left over makeup that was sent over to give to the Evil Queen. Diamond, a science prodigy, took to learning chemicals and teaching the Evil Queen how to create makeup. Evil Queen caught on quickly and started her own makeup line. Her best seller being Fairest Apples. Like Cruella, her name caught on big on the Isle and soon the Castle-Across-The-Way became a beauty school. Diamond being the top and favorite student. Having her makeup done by the Evil Queen herself. A makeup line dedicated purely for her.
Though what’s beauty without the right hair to match your clothing and makeup? Good thing, Faline was best friends with Anthony Tremaine. There were already enough people to work there, but that didn’t stop Faline from reaching out to Lady Tremaine and the Wicked Stepsisters to give out tips for better hair care. While the wicked grandchildren were down in the salon, you can guarantee the House of Tremaine turned into a hair school. No one got a hair license until they went through the program. Faline and Anthony and Diamond and Diamond’s brother Spade turned an abandon warehouse into a bigger and more spacious beauty salon for Curl Up N Dye. Anthony and his brothers and male cousins quickly taking over to being barbers and showing other guys how to keep their hair up. Using Diamond’s science knowledge to make shampoos and conditioners for the people around.
Eventually, you’re going to need a store to buy all of this from? Well, you better believe Faline made her way to Jafar’s Junk Shop with Spade in tow and tore basically everything apart and fixed it up to be the best store on the Isle. Hair care, sketchbooks, makeup brushes, fabrics? Faline made sure Jafar had it all and put Spade in charge of security. No one was stupid enough to go against the son of the Queen of Hearts especially not when Harry Hook tried to steal a bottle of ocean spray shampoo and Spade swiped at him with his sword screaming OFF WITH YOUR HEAD! Faline smirked as she worked from the inside to turn the Isle around, but that didn’t stop her dreams of going to Auradon and being reconnected with Carlos.
After a while, Faline noticed that more kids were being on the streets. More kids for those good for nothing perverts and rapists to get to. So she reached out to the Gaston family. The kids needed to learn how to defend themselves and some of the other stores and the schools are going to need security detail. (There was a nasty fight between Mother Gothel and Drizella Tremaine inside of Castle-Across-The-Way). It was honest work; not really villainy but it brought money in.
Faline wanted to honor Carlos’ dedication to keeping his grades up and being smart, so she went around to the Evil Queen, Jafar, Lady Tremaine, and Cruella and proposed the idea of discounts for those that scored high grades in class. They didn’t see the appeal until they noticed how some kids genuinely wanted to them to be proud of their grades, so they continued to encourage the acts and listen intently to the kids’ devious schemes and how they could’ve made them better.
It was actually Jafar who realized that there was still so much to do for the Isle. He put a suggestion box by the door to his shop for people to drop their ideas of what more could be done. He told Grimhilde and Cruella and the two of them also placed suggestion boxes. When Diamond and Faline heard of it, they went to Lady Tremaine to let her know of the change and she did so.
It was Faline with shaking legs and a near heart attack that suggested to the Big Bad Wolf and his pack to take to patrolling the streets at night. Curfews were set. No child under ten could out in the streets passed seven, fifteen had to go in a ten, and sixteen-eighteen had to be in by eleven o’clock and nineteen and up shouldn’t be out unless they had a job. If you get caught by the Big Bad Wolf or one of his pups, well it was up to him to decide your punishment.
It was Diamond and Spade’s idea to bring in the Red Queen. Wonderland Castle quickly became the Wonderland Mall. All of Cruella’s creations landed there with Mother Gothel (who worked after school and weekends) running a photography class and photography store. Her own daughter was one of the workers there. The Red Queen even moved her salon into one of the rooms that became a store.
No one was brave enough to go to the Isle of Doom. At least not yet. Faline and the others were determined to get the Isle running better.
The four friends were quickly becoming the child rulers of the Isle and you can very well guess that Uma and her band of pirates didn’t like that. Too bad for them, Faline had already hired Harriet Hook and her own pirates to be the day time police. And Harriet wasn’t one to back down easily, so Uma and her pirates were left in the dust. Well until Faline visited them and asked for Uma (and Ursula) ways to improve their restaurant. Before you knew, Ursula’s fish shack became one of the well-known businesses and Faline had given Uma more people to work with to cut down on her work load. In exchange, Ursula took to creating her cleaning supplies for Jafar to sell. Houses had never looked better.
With Uma having so much more time now with a better working schedule, Faline asked her to make way for evenly distributed supplies from the barge and asked for the pirates to make sure that each thing got sent to the right people. Uma, who uncharacteristically, felt in debt to Faline immediately, went to work with it. Fabrics were carefully sent to Cruella and GIL DO NOT WASTE THAT PAINT ONTO THOSE FURS OR SO HELP I WILL LEAVE YOU TO FEND FOR YOURSELF AGAINST CRUELLA! HARRY, IF YOU PUT DOWN THAT HOOK, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO WORK ABOUT ANY OF THAT LIQUID FOUNDATION FALLING ON YOU!
But the Isle needed someone in charge. Auradon now had King Ben and his Lady Mal. The Isle had no one. Maleficent was gone. Turned into a lizard and even when she was there, the Isle was never this organized. So Faline and Spade went searching for someone to put in charge. Mainly because going through that suggestion box was horrible and Faline hated paperwork on top of homework and incomplete fashion designs. The Isle needed someone fair and dare they say, good, to keep it from going back to hell. So they went to Yen Sid, who understood that actions had consequences and Diamond stated that he was a very good teacher. Yen Sid agreed, but Faline had one more trick up her sleeve. She is a villain kid. Yen Sid may be the equivalent to the king of the isle, but he need the majority vote of his senate to make the changes. Faline made sure to put Cruella, Jafar, Grimhilde, Red Queen, Lady Tremaine, Dr. Facilier, Captain Hook, Gaston, and a representative for the Big Bad Wolf into the seats of power. Cruella, Evil Queen, Lady Tremaine, Dr. Facilier, Gaston, and Captain Hook were now principals of their schools.
Cruella’s School of Fashion
Grimhilde’s School of Beauty
Lady Tremaine’s Hair School
Dr. Facilier as the principal of Dragon Hall
Captain Hook as the principal of Serpent Prep
Madam Mim as the principal of Witch School
Gaston’s School of Defense
But to everyone’s surprise, it still wasn’t enough. Some of the kids took no interest in all of the new opportunities before them and parents were getting concerned, so Faline proposed a new idea to the Council-Of-Renewed-Evil (they chose their name and well Yen Sid was too busy with paperwork to get around to changing it). The idea was for to start sports teams. Everyone was for the idea so Serpent Prep and Dragon Hall and Witch School now had tourney and cheerleading teams. Shun Yu was the coach for the Dragon Hall’s tourney team and Clayton was the captain for the Serpent Prep’s team and the Horned King as the coach of for the Witch School’s team. Yzma took on to being the Dragon Hall’s cheer coach. Nasira was the coach of Serpent Prep’s squad with her daughter, Jade, as the head cheerleader. Madam Mim just however took on being the coach for their cheerleaders herself. It took awhile for things to work out. Jay wasn’t the only one who was raised around the concept of there’s no team in I, but once the kinks were worked out things blossomed. Parents were signing their kids up left and right. Someone came up with the ideas of shows and next thing you knew, the Ringmaster had started up a theatre school and shows were performed every two Saturdays.
And since Jafar had his shop to run, Diamond suggested that the Mad Hatter be in charge of the bank. Everyone thought it was a horrible idea until he nearly tore the town apart looking for the person who tried to cheat him out of 25 cents. You’d find him sitting inside of his shop with rows of hats behind him (Cruella De Vil and his originals, mind you) filing up other hats with coins and writing down exactly how much were in them and who they came from and how they were going to be distributed. You had a saving account for your child’s future? Which color/pattern/shape hat you want?
Maleficent’s goblins were usually causing mayhem around the Isle, but Faline wasn’t having that. She tricked them all to the docks and forced them to stay there. Uma had taken to putting the goblins to work and they took their jobs seriously. No one wanted to deal with Ursula if they didn’t show her daughter some respect. That left the Slop Shop needing employees, but some of the people of Wonderland (that were unreasonably condemn to Isle) took it up and soon different drinks were coming out. Even decafe coffee became a choice.
Some places didn’t need to be touched. They just caught on to the flow of everything. Troll Town was quick to start giving discounts for massages and you can guarantee that Hook’s Inlet was doing good business. (Faline was surprise when Hook himself offered fishing lessons. She was less surprised when Mr. Smee offered the swimming lessons). Tick Tock Croc though became a lifeguard. No child was going to drown on his and his own descendants watch.
Jail Time became a real thing and Faline and Spade secretly found it hilarious. Who was actually dumb enough to commit crimes in jail? Turns out a good amount of people. Judge Frollo became well an actual judge. Faline found it ironic considering he’s committed the worse crimes. But she said nothing because she did eat at Frollo’s Creperie. He worked alongside Gaston and Hook and the Big Bad Wolf to have good officers. Clayton (though coach of the tourney team) was the sheriff. Parents slept a little better a night knowing their children were safe (they’d never admit to caring about their wellbeing though).
When Mal came back to the Isle, you better believe everyone who is anyone heard about it. Harry, who in this world didn’t steal from Dizzy but came to collect money for the last amount of debt she owed to Jafar’s shop for hair dye, immediately told Uma who told Faline who said to handle it on her own. If it got anymore out of hand, then they’d go to Yen Sid and make him put her to work and use her leverage with Auradon to help out more.
When Faline heard about the pirates kidnapping the King of Auradon, you better believe that she was pissed. But when Uma told her of the plan of getting the wand and taking down the barrier to make sure the Isle gets better, she was all for the plan. But she still took some of the pirates away because Edgar Balthazar and Peg-Leg Pete suggested the idea of fixing some of the old buildings up. So while Mal and the VKs were getting ready for a showdown against Uma and her pirates, Faline was busy helping the vendors in the marketplace get ready to move into the buildings. She puts Madame Mim in charge of mail with a threat that if it isn’t handled right, that she’d be sure that Scar could find something entertaining to do with her.
But it was when word got out that Carlos was back on the Isle did the plan change. Faline marched her way to the Pirate’s Bay and watched on the sidelines as Mal tried tear down Uma. Going as far to let her eyes shine green, but Faline had worked with the baddest of the villains and she noticed two things. For one, she nearly slapped herself in the face when she remembered they were on the Isle where magic did not work. And two, even if it did, that wand might have looked majestic, but it gave off no vibes of power. She recognized it as a fake.
When Uma pulled Harry back, Faline made herself known.
“Don’t even bother, Uma. The wand’s a fake!”
The VKs and the girl that Faline didn’t recognize all jumped not knowing where her voice was coming from. And that made Faline smiled the cheshire’s grin. She might not be able to disappear like her dad, but she was just as good as hiding as if she wasn’t there. But still, she walked to the front of the ship and casually plucked the wand out of Mal’s hand.
“Even if this was the real wand, it wouldn’t work here,” Faline hissed. She cut her eyes over to Carlos, who stared at her in shock and confusion, before looking over to the King. “Release the King.“
Immediately the pirates began protesting, but Faline silenced them with a look. “Release him. We don’t need his help. We’ve been making the Isle better without him and we’re going to continue to do so.”
Faline and Uma looked at each other and Faline could see it. Uma understood. They really didn’t need Ben. They’re going to make the Isle a better place and one day, when they get free, Auradon’s going to wish they never forgot about them.
Uma nodded her head, “Let him go, Harry.”
He pouted, but did as told even when Gil was quickly getting his father’s words out to the young king. Harry cut him loose right beside Faline who turned to look at him. She pressed her nails to his face and Ben winced. He could feel how sharp they were, but she forced him to look at her.
Uma raised an eyebrow before turning to look at the VKs. Carlos was still staring at Faline liked he couldn’t believe that she was there and was that guilt in his face? Evie, who Uma heard from the barge drivers had become a fashion designer and was incredibly smart, was staring at the outfit Faline wore. Jay didn’t care for what Faline was doing. He was too busy making sure that the pirates didn’t get out of hand. The girl Uma didn’t recognize was doing the same, but she was also watching Faline and Ben. But Mal stared down Faline and Ben with her eyes shining. Faline turned her eyes to Gil, “Write this down.”
Gil looked at Uma for confirmation and she nodded. He immediately pulled out his journal and pencil from the inside the pocket of his shirt and went to stand beside Faline.
“We may be letting you go, but we never forget a face. Villains may be stuck here, but you are in debt to us. Look at how your father and his friends and associates have condemned us. We may be villains, but we still bleed like you. We deserve better than this and you owe us. And trust me, there are so many ways to you start, but for now, our schools new better books. No ripped or missing pages. We need more medicine. And you better make sure, Cruella’s get hers. Our girls need better menstrual supplies. We most definitely need better food, and I’m not talking about any leftovers. We want fresh food because we deserve it just like you do.”
Gil didn’t need to be told what he needed to write down. He knew on instinct and wrote as quickly as he good. “That’s just the basics. Mal and her little friends have lived here. I’d let them be the ones to tell you what else we need to survive.”
Gil handed the paper to Faline who turned to him and smiled, “Thank you, Gil,” before she let go of the king’s face, gave Ben the paper, and pushed him towards his girlfriend.
“Leave. And if you ever come back, I won’t be so nice as to jump in. They aren’t the only ones that have a bone to pick with you,” she stated before she sauntered off away from them all. Uma watched as Faline didn’t even spare a glance in Carlos’ direction, but she knew the girl was going to break down. Just as she knew that there was heartbreak and guilt on the boy’s face.
When Mal and the others left, Faline reappeared. This time with a burning anger in her eyes. In her hands was Mal’s spell book, she looked at Uma and gave her one request. “Either you go tear Auradon down or bring back supplies for the Isle. I don’t trust any of them to do so.”
And Uma left to do exactly that leaving Harry in charge of the pirates. Faline needed to take her mind off of seeing Carlos so she made her way to Hell Hall and to the private room that Cruella gave her and worked on her designs. She brought them to life as she listened to Cruella hum in the room down the hall as she also worked on her own designs or grade papers.
When she learned about Uma’s failed attempt to bring down Auradon and save the Isle, she didn’t tear the girl down. Told her she did a good job and now she had an epic story to tell the munchkins. But she did surprise herself and Uma with a hug when she learned of all the supplies and all of the fresh food she conjured up from Mal’s spell book. It was right on the outskirts of the Isle, so Faline went with Uma and her pirates and Harriet and her pirates to bring everything. They evened out everything to give a respectable amount to each vendor and make sure that Jafar had enough room to now supply all of extra medicine.
Though no one was prepared for the day when Auradon’s guards tracked Faline down to Maleficent’s old rented castle that now served as City Hall. He held out the four requests for Faline, Diamond, Spade, and Anthony to come to Auradon. And Faline knew in her heart that Carlos was the one who brought her friends’ names up because she was one hundred percent sure that King Ben hadn’t met her friends. After a lot of conversing with the Council-Of-Renewed-Evil, they accepted the request and Faline and their friends handed over their leadership spots. Faline gave hers to Uma. Madeline (daughter of Mother Gothel) took over for Diamond. Anthony was going to give his to one of his family members, but Lady Tremaine suggested giving to someone else. No other grandson of hers had Anthony’s charisma, so he gave his spot to Diego De Vil. Spade wanted to make sure that Jafar’s shop was protected on all accounts so he gave his position to Hadie (son of Hades).
Nearly everyone on the Isle was out the day, the four left. Despite being supposedly unemotional villains, there was a lot of crying and hugging going on. Cruella even going as far to give Faline one of her sketchbooks full of designs and Faline promised to make sure Auradon knew about the De Vil fashion line. The four promised to put everything they learned to use.
And despite the four of them leaving to go to Auradon, the Isle continued to move forward even with them away. Just as they hoped. --
In Auradon things were a little different when they heard about the next four children coming to there. Despite it being the Royal Wonderland Twins, daughter of the Cheshire Cat, and Cinderella’s wicked step grandnephew, no one complained (well Chad complained. Anthony hadn’t even made it to the campus, but Chad had already made him his arch nemesis). Nevertheless, a lot of the students and staff came out to welcome them.
The limousine pulled up and slowly descended to a stop. The driver got out and opened the back door and it was as if time stood still. Everyone waited with baited breath before a blood red heel stepped into the sunlight. Pale legs covered by a pair of black fishnets followed. Then a blood red skirt. A black and red corset doubled as a shirt. Arms covered by a blood red jacket and black fingerless gloves ran through red hair as everyone stood in awe.
Diamond, Princess of Wonderland, Daughter of the Queen of Hearts.
A small smirk played across her features before she stepped to the side as black combat boots followed her out. A darker shade of red skintight leather pants covered the legs, but nothing but a simple black open vest covered the body. Swoons were heard as the boy flicked his jet black hair with a patch of red out of his face.
Spade, Prince of Wonderland, Son of the Queen of Hearts
No one said a thing as he shared a glance with his sister before moving for the next body.
The next person to get out of the limo had looks that put Chad to shame (and will further strengthen his hatred). Beautiful curly ginger hair framed his face. A perfect smile. Biceps, triceps, and all the other ‘ceps were all on display in his skin tight magenta muscle shirt. His waist and legs were covered by a pair of khaki cargo pants with magenta combat boots.
Anthony Tremaine, Son of Anastasia Tremaine, Grandson of Lady Tremaine
Still, no one said a thing as they waited for the last of the four, but she didn’t step out of the car.
She just appeared.
Black cobbled stilettos showed first. Tan legs and a waist covered by a short high waist periwinkle skirt were next. A matching periwinkle corset covered by a black leather jacket. (Carlos realized with a jolt of pain that it was one of the few jackets he left back on the Isle. One of the rare gifts his mother gave him). One thing that stood out was the large unnerving smile made into a necklace and the black cat ears headband that were just the right shade to match the heather, periwinkle, and lilac hair. Looking at her was like looking at Kitty Cheshire from their childhood show Ever After High. A smirk danced on her lips with one fang tooth slipping out.
Faline Cheshire, daughter of the Cheshire Cat (Future Mayor of the Isle of the Lost)
They all blinked innocently as if they didn’t notice all of the rising sexual tension growing in their presence. The original four VKs knew they noticed, but still no one said anything. At least not until, a small figure broke apart from the crowd and ran straight for Anthony. He crouched down instinctively and caught his youngest cousin in his arms lifting her in the air and spinning her in a circle. The crowd collectively awed and the surrounding paparazzi let their cameras fly as they began to take pictures of the four. They had wanted to ask questions, but they knew to wait until King Ben introduced and welcomed them.
When King Ben stepped forward, all four of their eyes shot to him and he nearly stepped back at the intensity of it all. But he prevailed on, Mal and her friends were a bit intimidating when they first came too. “Welcome to Auradon.”
And no one noticed but the first VKs as Faline and her friends relaxed and lost some tension in their stances. They watched as the others were introduced to some of the people around them. They watched as they spoke to the paparazzi, but it was one question and one answer that stood out to them the most.
“Miss Faline, just where did you get that outfit? Where did any of you get your clothing? An Evie original that was left on the Isle?”
No one noticed but the first VKs (and Ben and Doug and Jane and Lonnie) at the look of disgust that danced in their eyes at the mention of an Evie original.
“Oh no, darling,” Faline purred. She did a full 360 spin so everyone got a good look at her outfit. “This is a Cruella De Vil original with makeup done by the Evil Queen herself and hair and nails done by Lady Tremaine and hat and necklace gifted from Jafar.”
The crowd gasped lightly, but Faline continued to look at the reporter and camera. Diamond stepped to her side and smiled lightly. “You all seem to be under the impression that we’re here for some second chance from Auradon and be like the first four.”
Spade snorted and Anthony didn’t comment. He was too busy fussing over his younger cousin to care about anything else.
“Then why are you here?” The reporter questioned ready to have the big scoop.
“We’re here to advocate for better treatment for the Isle of the Lost,” Faline stated firmly. “Starting with better food and healthcare treatment. The Isle may fall under Auradon’s authority, but I read in the history book that each state that has a ‘villain’ locked away is under the jurisdiction of the law to provide for them and any of their family. And from here on out, you all will follow your own law. Our voices and our parents’ voices will be heard.”
Then the four of them huffed and turned away from the paparazzi making it clear that no questions (or pictures) were to be asked further. It was pure silence as Faline’s words rang in the air before the Fairy Godmother was shooing away the paparazzi and staff was getting the children to move on to class. Though hesitant, King Ben made his way to the new students and motioned for them to follow him.
They were going until Anthony stopped right beside Chad Charming. “Listen dude, I don’t care that your mom is my step-aunt. If you do anything to hurt Dizzy anymore, and I mean physically or emotionally or mentally, I will rip you to pieces.”
And was that the wrong thing to say at the moment. Well at least for Chad it was. Evie immediately turned towards the boy with glare that didn’t even begin to show how angry she was. Faline and Spade snickered at the look of fear that crossed Chad’s face as Evie (and Jay and Fairy Godmother) made her way to him. But they all followed with Dizzy (who protested that she was too old to be carried) tucked tightly into her cousin’s arms.
None of them said anything, but Ben kept turning to look at them so they could feel included in the conversation, but he notice how all of their eyes took in every exit. He noticed how all of their hands twitched to grab something (it wasn’t as bad Jay when he got here but it was there). He noticed how Anthony had put Dizzy down, but held a protective stance keeping the girls in his sight at all times and how he didn’t stray too far from Spade (not knowing it was mostly because Spade may need backup). He noticed how Spade glared at anyone that looked for too long, but somehow even his glare still had girls swooning.
It didn’t take long for them to get the dorms. Mal and the other VKs caught up to them quickly and Ben noticed how Faline tensed when Carlos came close to her. But nothing prepared him for the moment when Jane ran up excitedly to Carlos, kissed him on the lips, and the look of pain and heartbreak that crossed Faline’s face. Diamond had gasped quietly and reached out to touch Faline’s arms. Spade dropped his glare onto Carlos and wrapped Faline into his arms. Anthony glared death at daughter of the Fairy Godmother before turning a concern eye to Faline. Faline, who immediately, stepped out the couple’s proximity and nearly stormed off. But she kept a look of forced indifference on her face.
They reached the girls’ dorm first and Diamond quickly pulled her friend into it. Spade and Anthony gave her nod as some sort of message was passed between them, before Spade asked to be shown to their room. Mal felt a little cautious. Sure, they had basically told them the world that they cared little for Auradon and only wanted to see the Isle prosper. It could only be imagine how they planned to see that happen.
It didn’t take long to reach the boys’ dorms and they walked right in with Anthony pulling Dizzy along. She had noticed the tension in his body and set to work on getting rid of it by telling him of all of her classes and the jewelry she was making and how she even got to keep the money. Anthony smiled proudly at his younger cousin before Dizzy left him alone so he could unpack.
They didn’t say anything, but everyone could feel the subtle shift in the school.
The next few weeks the new four who for some reason went by the Cobras arrived in class with outfits that seemed even better than the ones they had on the day before. They made their way through quickly with classes and ignoring all of the stares of distrust they received. The days went on without an incident even at that one lunch when Faline noticed the picnic that Carlos was having with his new girlfriend. She wasn’t stupid. She saw the look in his eyes and noticed how in love he was with the girl. But Faline had spent months ignoring her heartache and she wasn’t going to let seeing it in person change that. So she simply turned away and went back to sketching out designs in her notebook.
The four of them snuck down docks were the barge was getting ready to take a new batch of crap over to the Isle when Faline stopped them. She and Diamond kept them distracted while Spade and Anthony switched out all of the rotten food with fresh food. But Anthony had insisted on leaving the almost-not completely rotten food on the barge because of all the different ways people were making use of them. They were careful with the fabric for Cruella and the makeup for Grimhilde and the hair supplies for Lady Tremaine. The boys made sure that the other valuables were carefully bubble wrapped for Jafar. Placed a sealed hat filled with the spare change they found for the Mad Hatter. Took in all of the supplies for women and men healthcare. But most of all, they made sure that Cruella had her medicine.
None of them mentioned the items that had obviously come from Snow White’s and Cinderella’s kingdoms.
They all watched with small smiles as the barge made its way over to Isle. And Faline smiled deep in her soul. She had helped fixed the Isle from the inside. Now it was time to work on it from the outside.
Eventually everyone calmed down from their excitement of the new kids, but Faline wasn’t having that. She knew from experience how you could get used to something and ultimately forget it.
With permission from Ben, she started up a rally in the middle of the school’s courtyard during her free period. She asked for things that they didn’t wear anymore and that they knew they weren’t going to wear anymore. She asked for things they no longer wanted. She did what she planned. She was advocating for a better life on the Isle. Most people thought she was joking and was just seeking attention. But she did it every day without fail and when she wasn’t rallying, one of her other friends’ were.
Soon they had boxes of items that could be sent over to the Isle. Faline spent a lot of her downtime when she wasn’t rallying or in class; designing clothes and bringing them to life or fixing the clothes that were to be sent off. She even kept a box of fashion magazines for Cruella. And also sent off photographs of the photo shoot she had in the outfits she brought to life from the sketch book Cruella sent her. And though despite how much it hurt her, she wrote about Carlos and how smart he was. She knew Cruella knew about the dog, so she wrote about it and how Carlos kept the dog fashionable and made sure he looked right and went along with Carlos’ outfits. She almost didn’t mention how he had a new girlfriend, but she went ahead and told her. She didn’t need Cruella finding out from someone else about her new daughter-in-law.
Diamond was doing something similar. She was breaking down the makeup and making sure each container was at least filled. She spent her downtime coming up with equations for makeup and wrote them down for the Evil Queen. She also sent the Queen a detailed list of all of the latest fashion trends and snuck in pictures of her makeup and Evie’s makeup to send her. But her favorite part of it all was when she wrote the letter about Snow White reinstating Evie’s princess title and how if Snow White didn’t end having a child, then Evie was the next in line heir to their kingdom.
Anthony had the best time though. He didn’t just send off and package hair care products. He didn’t just send off latest trends about hairstyles or extra money to put in their family’s pocket. He barely spoke about his own accomplishments. He mostly spoke about Dizzy and her undertakings. He told his family how Cinderella recognized him and Dizzy as part of the royal family (and by extent them also). He took on modeling as an extracurricular activity and you better believe that he was modeling a Faline Original, or a Cruella Original Design with a Dizzy Tremaine accessory. He sent it all off knowing that he was making his grandmother proud by bringing back honor to their families’ name.
Spade had a good time though. He always made sure that Diamond took the time out to write to their mother and father (making sure Faline did the same). But he knew Jafar would want to know his son, so he took to cataloguing all of his accomplishments. And boy, were there a lot. Jafar would see how his son became one the best athletes on the campus. He told him how his son had a good chance to go on to become a professional tourney player. (He didn’t mention how Jay had come into powers). Then he went on a rundown of all things that he was sending over to the shop. What they could do and some words to really make them sell.
Together, they all sat around making sure everything was ready for when it came to the Queen of Hearts opening up another part to the mall. They polished shoes and repaired any holes and stitches. When the Fairy Godmother heard of what they were doing, detention quickly changed into doing the same and if you needed extra credit, all you needed to do was grab some shoe polish, find them, and get to work. Diamond and Faline sighed in exhaustion the second they saw all of the books being donated, but they didn’t care. The kids on the Isle deserved it, so they took time to separate the books. Kids went in one stack. Teenagers in another. And the adults in the last.
But everyone knew that there was a tension brewing on the surface and they were all just waiting to see what would happen.
It was Family Day again. The four watched the proceedings go down uncaringly. They shuffled off into a corner by themselves where they could still watch the events, but also be out of the way. Diamond and Spade had been working on their homework. Faline had been switching between designing a new outfit for Anthony and looking at the reports sent back from Isle of the things going on. The champion game was coming up between Dragon Hall and Serpent Prep and they wanted them to come see it. The four were very much determine to go see it. Anthony was carefully watching his little cousin and keeping her in his sights at all times.
And then Chad and Audrey moved together. It didn’t seem like much until Audrey accidently bumped into Dizzy and Chad made the move like he was going to her but actually stepped on all of Dizzy’s fallen accessories. Dizzy didn’t say anything, but she did begin to cry silently. Anthony, however, wasn’t going to let that slide. He made his way over to the small group, but before he could get to close, Faline appeared right in front of him. She whispered something in his ear and he gave her an incredulous look. She stared back at him in all seriousness as she turned to help Diamond pick up Dizzy’s things while Anthony steered Dizzy away from the scene.
Spade though turned to look at Chad. “Anthony may be trying to turn over a new leaf with your family, but I’m not Anthony. But I do remember him letting you know he’d rip you a new one for messing with Dizzy and since he’s occupied right now, I’d be honored to do it for him.”
And then he punched Chad. Audrey didn’t know what to before Faline was in front of her. Anyone could tell that she was holding herself from punching the princess. “Go near Dizzy again and you would wish Ben left all of us on the Isle.”
Diamond though had had enough. She stood up in all of her beauty before fixing Chad and Audrey with a glare. “Faline, Brother. That is enough. These people are not worth our time.”
Spade and Faline stood still with Chad’s dress shirt still clutched tightly in Spade’s fist before he dropped him and stepped away. He patted Faline on her shoulder and the girl in question gave Audrey an even harsher glare and even hissed at her before turning and stalking away.
On their way out though, Faline caught sight of Jane in Carlos’ embrace. Her Carlos who looked at her with so much sadness and pain that it was suffocating, but looked at the girl in his arms with so much love that Faline would rather take his looks of pain than seeing it. Later that night, Faline sobbed in Diamond’s embrace. Diamond didn’t speak the words aloud, but it was clear in the air that the princess wanted Faline to let go.
So she did.
When the next day came, Carlos found a box outside of his door. He didn’t look to see who had sent it. He knew on instinct. He knew even before he opened one of the flaps and the Cheshire cat grin was looking at him. But when he reached into the box, he found the leather jacket that Faline wore on her first day in Auradon. (He didn’t understand why that hurt more than seeing the way she leaned into Spade or Anthony’s embrace).
When he emerged from his dorm, he heard in the hall how his mother supposedly wrote to Ben that she wanted Faline to have control of her fashion line. He didn’t believe it until he saw the sympathetic smiles from his friends and the excited and happy and tearful smiled on Faline’s face as her own friends congratulated her.
He and all of his friends were in the library when Fairy Godmother had connected a call made for the four kids. They watched as the kids talk happily with their parents about the things that they had going on in Auradon. They watched as they listened seriously to the things happening on the Isle. They all noticed how each of them took notes of different reports being told to them and what there was shortages of and what they were trying to do to fix it. They all watched as they talked to their mentors about their work. They all watched with burning jealousy as their mentors (their parents) express how proud they were of them.
But what changed it all was when Faline was crying and thanking Cruella for letting her have the fashion line and Cruella replied with, “It’s the least I could do for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t care who Carlos dates. You’ll always be my daughter-in-law.”
The room felt like it was too small as the Cobras ended their call before Faline burst into tears of sadness and rushed from the room. Her three friends gave out rushed declarations of gratitude to Fairy Godmother before they too were rushing out of the room searching for their friend.
Carlos avoided the looks of everyone especially Jane as he tried to go on about his day. By noon, everyone heard about how Cruella signed over her fashion empire and gave it to her ex daughter-in-law. By noon, everyone on the campus knew about Carlos and Faline’s past relationship. By the end of the day, blogs were questioning if his relationship with Jane would last with Faline in such close proximity. Even going as far as to point out flaws between the two girls and saying how Jane couldn’t compare to the daughter of Cheshire Cat.
Carlos hadn’t seen Faline since the incident in the library, but from the words whispered around the school, she still went to class and glared and hissed at anyone that brought up their past relationship and would disappear right in the middle of a conversation. But Carlos wasn’t really worried about Faline. He was worried about the conversation he was going to have with Jane. He wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with that, so he kept putting it off.
Until the day came for when the Cobras were returning to the Isle to watch a championship game, Ben hadn’t understood and Mal argued that they weren’t any sports on the Isle. Just chaos. But Faline was protective of her home. Of her roots. So she yelled back at Mal that things changed for the better when her and her mom left. The two girls nearly came to fight when their beautiful best friends both stepped in to calm them. Faline settled down quickly, but she was still determined to go the Isle.
So Ben proposed the idea of going also (Faline looked at him as if he was the biggest idiot in the world. This is who suppose to be leading us? Oh my badness, what has the world come to?). This led to becoming a field trip and so many people had wanted to go to the Isle of the Lost all of sudden.
Of course all of the villain kids immediately were on edge. Faline and Spade even going as far as to saying, “You didn’t want to come to Isle before and you didn’t want anyone coming off of it. Don’t try to turn into some tourist trap.”
But their words held no effect when Ben approved them all to go. It was Diamond and Anthony that went over rules to follow when going to the Isle and letting them know that their magic won’t work so don’t be stupid.
When they got to the Isle, Carlos and the first VKs cannot believe their eyes on how much better it look than the last time they were there. Buildings that were falling apart had been fixed up and turned into boutiques and salons and grocery stores. Jafar’s Junk Shop had grown in size and now he sold better things. Things he didn’t have to steal because they were sent just for him.
Jay didn’t find out until later that Jafar had wall filled with newspaper clippings sent from Spade of all of his accomplishments. He didn’t find out until later that Faline had made a replica of his tourney jersey and Jafar hung that up on the wall also. To know that his father was actually proud of him nearly made Jay cry in shock and happiness. He disappeared into the shop with his father for the longest amount of time before the game.
The same happened with Evie when she learned of Castle-Across-The-Way becoming a beauty school. Her mother had turned Evie’s wing of the castle into a shrine for her daughter. Pictures sent by Diamond were hung and framed on the walls. Even some of the Evie originals that Diamond bought were placed on models. (And Evie teared up when she realized that Diamond only bought the clothes to show them to her mom). Evie spent her time with her mom before the game.
Mal had wanted to go back to the castle that her mother had rented for them, when Spade mentioned offhandedly that it was now City Hall and all of their belongings were packed up and put in a basement in the Castle-Across-The-Way. So instead of going down that path, Mal took to showing around the Isle with Ben at her side and the other students following behind them. They even stood and watched as the Dragon Hall cheerleaders had a pep rally in the middle of the now less crowded market place.
When that was over, Anthony mentioned about going to the salon to get his hair did because he didn’t trust anyone in Auradon with his hair. Chad (who still felt bitter about his mother’s treatment) took to follow him and Dizzy. After all, his mother acknowledges them as family despite their past actions. It’s only right if he did the same. Diamond had told him that they were going to see their own parents before seeing their mentors and meeting up at the City Hall. Anthony had requested that someone buy him the new pair of silk pajamas Cruella created in the mall.
Faline agreed and she motioned for the rest of them to follow before she stopped in front of Hell Hall. Everyone could see she was holding herself back from going to the house, but there was really no need. Cruella herself rushed through the doors happy see her beloved student that was basically her daughter. A bright smile that was just as big as the Cheshire Cat’s grin spread across Faline faced before she running over to Cruella and hugging the lady tightly.
Carlos took note of how his mother looked. How she seemed healthier and saner. And to his great surprise, he didn’t even feel a pang of fear when she looked at him. But he’s going to be honest and admit that it did seem weird to see the guilt in her eyes. She invited him in and requested he brought along Jane. After all, it was proper for those in relationships to meet their significant other’s family. But Cruella also noticed the looks that Mal was sending her way, so she offered the home to more people. Horace and Jasper quickly moving around to make things neat for the guests even Carlos on instinct. It was his childhood home after all. He didn’t want to embarrass himself. (He’d later remember how well the house seemed and how things looked as if hadn’t aged in years). Cruella didn’t demand for her son to stop straitening things out because she was too busy doing the same. Moving papers that needed to be graded out of the way and placing her unfinished designs into folders.
Cruella had placed a sympathetic kiss onto Faline’s forehead. She may have not been the girl’s actual mother, but she saw the pain and heartbreak still dancing in the girl’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to hide it. If Cruella hadn’t work to become a better woman, she’d be beating Carlos and his little sweetheart for causing such pain for Faline. But alas, she had matured and found her way again. She knew that this was something she could not interfere in.
Spade, Diamond, and Faline made their way to the Wonderland Mall and then the door that separated the mall from the Castle. They each branched off to meet and greet their own parents before two hours later they met up again making their rounds across the Isle checking in with everyone. While they circled around, they picked up the stragglers. Carlos and Mal and Ben and their brood first.
They went by Ursula’s Fish and Chips to get a quick lunch and stopped by the Slop Shop to get drinks. Moved on to the Castle-Across-The-Way to pick up Evie before moving on to the pirates’ pipeline. Faline was greeted with bight smiles and hats tips from all of the pirates’ and a beautiful smile from Harry Hook.
“Careful, Hook, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”
“Yer like me own catnip, sweetheart.”
(Carlos wouldn’t admit to himself that he was jealous.)
They picked up Jay afterwards who had an envelope that he gave to Aziz to give to his parents from Jafar. It wasn’t anything dangerous. Jay watched him write it himself.
Faline and Spade both went in and walked back out with bags. Spade straying behind for a little while holding what looked to be a serious conversation with Jafar.
The crowd follows them to the bank and watches as Faline and the Mad Hatter go head to head because how come you’re trying to charge me interest just because I want to donate my savings to the building of a bookstore? It took Spade entering the bank and calmly processing the situation before reminding Faline that half of her savings was already going to funding Cruella’s School of Fashion and the other half was split evenly into other things. Faline sighed before she apologizes to the Mad Hatter who graciously accepts her apology. Though he does write down the request of donations being made for the bookstore on his list to turn into the Council-Of-Renewed-Evil.
They make their way back over to Wonderland Mall and let them all go through the stores filled with Cruella De Vil originals and Faline Original Design outfits. The Wonderland kids share a smile as the see the store Anthony had requested to make in Dizzy’s name. The jewelry they asked the young girl to make for those on the Isle lined up neatly. They couldn’t wait to see the smile on her face when she saw it, but preferred to not be in the room when she let out her screech of excitement. The makeup and hair products and cleaning products made by Evil Queen, Lady Tremaine, and Ursula. They even smiled when they see how the princes and princesses bob their heads to songs by the Bad Apples and ask for directions to buying the albums.
They don’t mention to the princesses about how they were going to see the lead singer Diego De Vil in a few minutes.
Once they leave the mall (Faline making sure to buy the silk pajamas for Anthony and a matching set for herself), they all head to City Hall to meet up with Anthony and his small group. When they get there, the Auradon kids could see a different light in Chad and easily see the genuine smile he wears as he talks to his step cousins and how it slips into a glare at any man that so much as looks at Dizzy. When they asked him about it, he just shrugged and started showing off all of the drawing his younger cousins drew for him.
In City Hall, they have stay to outside while they hold a short meeting. Since Ben is king and technically the King of the Isle, they made sure he was brought in also. Uma was there and it was slightly awkward for the two. The meeting progressed without much fanfare. Reports were passed around and Uma actually helped Ben get a clear understanding of what was going on. By the time the meeting ended, the two of them were on good terms with Uma promising to get Ben a copy of the up to date reports on the Isle so he could help out more from his end.
And then it was game time. Sure, they let the guest to the Isle (which included Mal and her VKs) stay in their clothing, but Francis and the Cobras switched out. Right in the middle of city hall, Faline and Diamond and Madeline pulled off their leather jackets showing off another pair of corsets before turning around and being blocked from view by Anthony, Spade, Diego and Hadie as they changed into Faline Original Fan T-Shirts for Dragon Hall. Hadie and Uma were already wearing their Serpent Prep T-Shirts and left for the field. It was quick for Anthony, Spade, and Diego to change into the own shirts. Though it took a minute for Diego when some of the princesses realize that he was in fact the boy on the cover of their new CDs.
When they made it to stadium (which Faline and Spade were still proud to see because that field took forever to get right), nearly all the seats were taken. But Faline motioned them over to a section that was cleared away just for them. The princesses and princes of course feeling a little affronted over how the Cobras were treated with better respect than them. Faline and Diamond kissing Reza on the cheek when they notice he found a way to make the seat heat warmers.
The crowd cheers were deafening as the two teams made their way to the field. The Auradonians were slightly afraid when they saw the switch in the Isle Kids including Mal and the others. But they too quickly got into the game. It looked like Tourney, but it also looked how Jay played when he first tried out for the team. Faline and Diamond swooning when a boy from the opposing team blew a kiss at them.
“LONG LIVE EVIL!!!”
“WE RIDE WITH THE TIDE!!”
The Auradon kids’ didn’t really know what to cheer, but quickly caught on that the Dragon Hall Dragons screamed out Long Live Evil while the Serpent Prep Pirates yelled out We Ride With The Tide.
“HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH A LITTLE FLAVOR!”
The Dragon Hall cheerleaders called out doing flips and stunts that the Auradon princesses couldn’t even dream of risk doing.
“OUR SAILS ABOUT TO BE SET!”
The Serpent Prep cheerleaders screamed as they too did what the Auradonians considered risky flips and stunts. They wouldn’t admit that both squads’ routines were flawless.
They didn’t even notice how into the game they got until the Serpent Prep cheerleaders yelled out HOOK ME as they made the winning score. The disappointed groan that game from their side shocked them all, but nothing shocked them more than when Harry Hook rushed over to the stands and kissed Faline as she was still leaning slightly over the fence.
Diamond’s squeals were heard all the way down the market place. The cheerleaders on each team each flipping and screaming at the sight. Even the boys from Dragon Hall made their way over and carried Harry around in a victory hold. Faline had a dazed smile on her face as she watched them carry Harry off.
(Carlos was not jealous. He was happy that Faline was moving on. She deserves it. But why does it hurt so much?)
Despite what they thought, the Auradon kids almost didn’t want to return back home. The Isle had a vibe that was fun with the underlying veil that was dangerous and they found themselves slowly become addicted to it. Spade was the one to notice and chuckled as he and Jay and the guards herded everyone back to the cars to return back to Auradon.
“Everyone has a wicked side.”
As time passed on, Faline and her friends were always going back to visit the Isle. They kept their grades up and took to visiting the other kingdoms around advocating for help for the Isle. Ben went with them whenever they went to Isle alongside Mal and some of his personal guard. Chad went sometimes to visit his younger cousins and he learned from some of his cousins how cut and style hair. So when he went to the Isle, he wasn’t Chad Charming, Prince of Charmington. He was just Chad, step grandson of Lady Tremaine and you better not look at him wrong because he has cousins that won’t hesitate to crush you like a bug. Chad took working in Curl Up N Dye while Ben and Mal and the Cobras went handled official business. Anthony would always come straight to the shop after the meeting was done and the cousins would get along fabulously. Chad always had drawing and pictures to take back to Auradon and back to Charmington to put up in his rooms and some to give his mother. Sometimes they’d bring Dizzy along who almost fainted when she had seen the shop in the Wonderland Mall dedicated to her. Chad more often than not had been the one to be always be seen with a piece made by her.
It was a slow but sure thing, but the villains slowly gave up on their idea for revenge (well except for Maleficent but she’s a still lizard so no one’s really trying to hear her thoughts).
Cruella’s fashion empire blossoms again this time under the control of Faline who took every pointer she could from her mentor. Her mentor who still took her medication responsibly and spent most of her time making clothes. One who proudly makes folders filled with Carlos’ grades and framed his report cards. And when he’s older and becomes a famous inventor, she proudly states how he’s her son and has a room in Hell Hall dedicated to all of his awards.
The Evil Queen’s makeup line blossomed partnering with Evie4Hearts more often than not. Her makeup was a big hit in Snow White’s kingdom. Diamond stood by her mentors’ side and continued to create makeup while her brother spent all of his time preparing to become King of Wonderland. Grimhilde encouraged both of her girls’ to go for the dreams and apologized to Evie for put finding a prince over her own wellbeing.
No one ever knew what was written in that letter from Jafar but Aladdin and Jasmine. But whatever it was, the city of Agrabah prospered and eventually became one of Jafar’s biggest suppliers. Jay also spent whatever time on the downside to work at his dad’s shop this time not having to worry about whose he’s going to steal from that day. Aziz even coming over to help with store. Jay and Jafar have serious conversations about Jay’s health and Jafar listens intently to Jay discussing his struggle with sports and some of the plays. Jafar giving advice to Jay after he got a rundown of everything. Helping Jay control his powers and letting him know that Jay may have been raised a villain, but he was not his father so just because he had powers didn’t mean that he was going to become evil. Giving Jay a locket with a picture of baby Jay and his mother on the inside and holding his son as he breaks down and cry.
Faline had slowly fallen in love with Harry as time moved on and her heart stopped breaking every time she saw Carlos and Jane. Though despite her feelings and how hard her heart hurt, she was there the day Jane broke up with Carlos. She had always been one of his shoulders to cry on and she would continue to be so no matter how hard she was hurting. The night they fell back into bed with each other, she waited until he was sleep before leaving to go cry in peace because she knew he didn’t sleep with her for love. He slept with her to get his mind off of Jane and she loved him so much that she let him. They continued on for a short while before she pulled away and buried herself into work until the day Harry found her slump over her desk sleep and constantly appearing and disappearing. He took to getting some of her workload done so she wouldn’t be so stressed and when Harry gave her an uncharacteristic shy smile, Faline could only think Oh, Diablo as she realized that she had started to fall in love with the pirate.
Faline watched with tears in her eyes as some of the munchkins on the Isle went on to become doctors, lawyers, designers, makeup artists but never forgot about where they came from. Ben writing over Queenship to Faline over the Isle and she rules her land with Spade, Diamond, Anthony, Uma, Harry, Diego, Hadie, and Madeline at her side. Keeping a strong alliance with Auradon and writing the Isle of Doom off to Mal.
Diamond, Spade, Anthony, and Faline shared proud smiles as the realized they completed their goal. They made the Isle better from the inside out and it was more beautiful than any outside help could’ve ever imagined.
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thecompostpile · 4 years
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Screen House Summer Movie Party- Mysterious Skin
CW: P*d*ph*li* 
I want to start by saying from the Criterion Collection description of this movie I thought it was going to be more about aliens and queer people. It certainly was about queer people sure but it wasn’t as much about aliens as I thought it was going to be. Maybe that’s a good thing I don’t know if I would have gone into a movie knowing it was about the after affects of children who were molested. 
I reason I wanted to watch this movie was I started planning out a comic called Alien Town. One of the bigger plot points in the comic is going to be about a two boys who are secretly hooking up being abducted by aliens one night and how they deal with that and how it strains their already weird relationship. So I was excited to see this Greg Araki movie that dealt with a similar concept. Turns out they won’t be the same. 
This isn’t a movie about aliens this is a movie about trauma. How the trauma’s endured as a child go to create an adult that has to live with those traumas. The two main characters who are left to deal with that trauma in juxtaposing ways. There is Joseph Gordon Levitt’s character Neil who learns at a young age that he is queer and into the older hairy men that he sees his mother bring home. His trauma and how he deals with it is a fun house mirror compared to Brian who retreats deeper into childhood his entire life, as shown by his childlike obsession with aliens and his fear of sex.  They are both destructive to any type of normal small town lifestyle but for different reasons. 
Joseph Gordon Levitt's character deals with the trauma by going on an all out horrible bender of a lifestyle. He steals a child and blows his face off with fireworks. He becomes a sex worker and sleeps with “every John in this town except for the White Camaro”. It is hard to tell if Neil even enjoys having sex. There is nothing more than some moaning and facial movements. Sex is never craved by Neil. We don’t know how how much of a show Neil is putting on for someone picking him up. 
Brian has a much different way of dealing with his trauma. He reverts back to a shell of himself. He quits sports, starts to wet the bed again and has bloody noises and fainting spells often. He becomes obsessed with the idea that there are aliens. He rewatches a tv show that tells him aliens are real and he believes he is an alien. When Neil goes to New York Brian fills his place with one of Neil’s old friends and the two become inseparable. 
Neil’s sex work is mostly what drags the plot a long. He hooks up with almost every guy in his town. Then leaves for New York where he meants much different men getting into a lot of danger the night before Christmas where he is picked up, assaulted and beaten. Another shocking and hard to watch scene in a movie filled with them. Neil was once the cool, black hole hearted boy that didn’t care about anyone. Now he is naked trapped under the shower head being screamed at by a huge evil man who is inside of him. Where Neil was once cool and beautiful here he is weak and in his nakedness looks small and skinny. He is defenseless out of control for the first time in the movie and it is hard to see for many reasons. 
My biggest problem with this movie was all of the taboo. The start is weird. With Neil giving a voice over about how he was in love with his baseball coach while he is being groomed and to watch it happen was hard to get through. I almost gave up on the movie there. I also do not know how interested I am in the trope of a gay sex worker. It seems to been done to death and can’t a queer man have another living then just selling his body for sex. Why does gay sex have to always be for money in movies? Why can’t it just be for fun? 
By the end of the movie I honestly didn’t know so because this is my first of these and I wanted to leave a good first impression I read a little bit about the movie. First the wikipedia page where I read that all of the child actors acted their sense out alone by themselves. They were acting with the adult actor who played the coach. They also had the script broken down for them and their parents approved all of the scripts. So thought and care was taken for the children in the movie they weren’t just tossed into unknowing. 
I also read Roger Ebert's review of it which he seemed to really enjoy giving it 3 1/2 stars out of four. Eberts reviews sums up a lot of things nicely. 
“ "Mysterious Skin" is a complex and challenging emotional experience. It's not simplistic. It hates child abuse, but it doesn't stop with hate; it follows the lives of its characters as they grow through the aftermath“
Ebert does really nail down what I main point of the movie is how these two children live their lives after the assault. How they are forced to then deal with this. What I did find interesting was the way Ebert refuses to believe that Neil’s character is gay. He starts by comparing Neil to his friend Eric. Where he compares the way they act to how queer they are. 
“There is little sense that Neil enjoys sex, or that he is "gay" in the way, for example, that his friend Eric is -- Eric, who likes flamboyant hairstyles and black lipstick but never seems to have sex.” 
But from the time we see him jerking off in his room, Neil’s voice over tells us he is queer. He tells us he is unable to love his friend Wendy even though they are soul mates. Neil is most certainly gay but Ebert seems to be trying to erase that because of the way he presents his masculinity. Ebert wants every gay to have a lisp and wear makeup he can’t seem to picture that gay people come from all walks of life and act all different types of ways. I think this movie is an example of showing that off. Neil, Eric and Brain are all some type of queer men each presenting it in a different way. While each one of the Johns, especially the ones in New York take on different types of queer men. 
“The movie clearly believes Neil was born gay; his encounter with the coach didn't "make" him gay but was a powerful influence that aimed his sexuality in a dangerous direction” 
Ebert refuses, even though the movie is promising him, that the boy is queer. He just doesn’t understand how someone good at baseball could possibly be gay. It is complete the work of fiction. Which, sure I am ragging on him a little but it is so interesting for me to see a straight writer struggling to do his job, understand a movie because he doesn’t understand that queer men can look and act however they want. 
Which is funny because Gordon-Levitt’s character reminds me of a boy who I have spent time with in the backseat of his car. A boy who just before the quarantien was visiting home from an air force base and got naked because I asked him to and gave me head while I moaned. How even thought we have hooked up four times and every time he tells me he likes girls more what happened that made him realize he liked boys. 
 And I am thinking about the boy I hooked up with in college who after getting in the shower with him to clean the cum off me told me about how he was only a teenager when a grown man gave him a blow job at his YMCA. and I have hooked up with that boy before but I sometimes wonder how much I looked like those mans. I am thinking about how being assaulted in high school by my best friends set me up for the times of boys I like and what I like doing. How we are all affected by weird sex stuff that affects us as a kids. 
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namelessblacksheep · 5 years
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LIFE IS JUST REALITY TV
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To all the reality TV junkies, turn away now. You are not going to like this analogy and may end up hating yourself in the process.
I should start off with a disclaimer. I absolutely loathe reality TV. The fakery and nonsense of offering a platform to people who would struggle to get a job flipping burgers or sorting mail is just one reason.
The concept of sitting on your butt watching morons perform like monkeys and then deciding their fate is a bit lame. Especially when you could be out and about doing something more constructive with your own life.
Reality TV is very popular though. That I have to admit. It provides a vicarious escape or guilty pleasure for people who have given up the fight. It’s true. If it wasn’t, then the genre would no longer exist as there was no market for it and perhaps the world might be less broken.
I’m not about to start blaming reality TV participants or the watchers of such tripe for the ills of society. Hopefully, they will come to that conclusion themselves.
It is a cancer of epic proportions. It stops you from living out your dreams whilst you secretly hope to crush the spirit of the one trying to live theirs out for your entertainment.
‘Winners’ of such shows tend to end up either on another show or are found out for the vacuous imbecile they are.
More worrying is how reality programmes have become a way of life for some and they then start selling you shit that they wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Even more troubling is that some have become famous or infamous just by being a ‘Reality Star’ - whatever the fuck that is.
The purpose of this article wasn’t to talk about how crass and stupid reality TV is though. If you haven’t figured that out for yourself, then feel free to plug back in. 
There are very clear similarities in what makes this approach to entertainment so appealing and how Western society is being run on a daily basis. The problem with this is that the powerful among society act out their roles and we lap up each day without question. We choose from the limited options they allow us to and then nail our flag to the least bad mast we can find.
Do we really need them?
I’m going to run through some of the repeat characters in the ongoing series of How Fucked Up The World Is. Previously on HFUTWI ...
Politicians
In their former lives, these people tended to be the most friendless and boring individuals you could ever hope to meet. They had a penchant for going to good schools and knowing something about policy matters.
Today, all these guys and gals do, is come up with reasons why something shouldn’t be done. They are more interested in whether they will retain their place on the show and constantly have to do dumb shit just to be relevant.
It’s not about representation of values and doing right by the country in the long term. It’s all short term these days and being noticed. Promising much and delivering little is the name of the game.
Some of these stooges get so much air time that you are almost apoplectic with rage that having such a prominent platform they don’t answer a single question asked of them. They have endless factoids of how shit their predecessor was but know nothing about how to resolve the current state of affairs.
For such short-termists, they seem either lost in the past or wistfully engaged in a future they will never be accountable for.
Whether they turn up or not, shit still gets done - a bit like those higher-ups in most workplaces. In fact, having big issues to tie them up, like Brexit in the UK, means they have less time to fuck stuff up. The economy starts to improve whilst their flagship project sinks like the Titanic.
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Journalists
There was a time when reporting the news was a thing. Events happened and then we were informed about it by people who wanted us to be factually aware of what was happening in the world.
Now we have fake news and spin. Tell people what some lobby group wants us to know or think. Or tell the story that represents a more agenda-based narrative.
Even when the news is reported, how this is shared is often downplayed if it goes against the personal agenda of the media outlet reporting it. Or, hyperbolic click bait tragedy headlines are banded about even when there has been a 0.1% shift in some random number they want you to care about.
Whatever happened to the investigative journalism uncovering the truth? Now, they are bonafide marketing hacks giving free advertising to the establishment. They don’t care about the truth, us normal folks probably couldn’t handle it anyway.
Speculation, creating tomorrow’s headlines and reporting the latest ‘celebrity status’ offerings from high profile bellends on Twitter is not the news. They are basically entertainment facilitators and spin doctors.
We minions lap it up though, spread it around like Chlamydia and wonder why we keep getting more of the same shit.
Celebrities
This term now covers all manner of people. Basically, they should be rebranded as attention whores.
We have sports stars, musicians, TV ‘personalities’, influencers and some of the above who like to tell anyone who will listen to what they think. Like we give a fuck.
Being good at something and an expert on that subject is pretty awesome. That doesn’t automatically mean you are an expert on everything you speak about though, does it?
You could be a kick-ass brain surgeon, who could save my life in the event of a brain tumour. However, you’d be monumentally useless in sorting out my broken gearbox. Sure, you might have an opinion on it, and that’s your right, but don’t be offended if I ignore everything you have to say on the matter.
Celebrities have become false representatives of the people. Politicians messed up so badly in representing folk that they are now turning to visible people we ‘like’ and ‘follow’ to do their bidding. Fuck, even the journalists are now asking what they think about everything.
I long for the day when the celebrity star retorts: ‘dude, I’m as thick as soup and just hit balls about for money and chicks’.
The truth is, many of these people are now so heavily managed and marketed that their brand is basically to say whatever they are told to for an even bigger paycheck.
These people are the spawn of the Devil so worshipping them is tantamount to being a Satanist. Think about it.
Nation Reality TV
If you like being entertained, there are countless options available. We live in a golden age of television, connecting with people has never been easier and there are still good old hobbies that have stood the test of time.
Reality TV was an experiment to see how to engage the masses. In doing so, it became a quick-fire way to get into people’s lives with a format that works. Evolving the failing system as a way of keeping vested interests engaged with the people was a piece of piss. Find a few friendlies and get them to sell anything and everything like a Cocaine dealer giving out free hits.
Now the news you receive, the faces that deliver the messages and the way the world is run, is entirely within the reality TV format.
They create heroes and villains, get you to vote for them based upon their personality rather than their values. They give you unfettered access to them through carefully managed social media platforms and then if you missed it, cascade it as a news item.
It’s all a numbers game really. Take the most popular people, pay them whatever they ask and they will ‘influence’ their powerless followers and tribes to choose the current season’s winner. Sure it doesn’t always work out perfectly, but they stay relevant and in power and the rest of us think that we can only select from a limited option of crappy alternatives.
Perhaps if we all switched off and started living our lives then better alternatives would arise.
When it comes to politics you are asked to choose between different coloured apples. What if you want a banana or a pineapple?
The news is no longer relevant or true. It’s a storyboard of shifting agendas that play out like an episode of TV drama. Gone are the days where stuff happens and we hear about it, now these fuckers are the architects of tomorrow, seeking to give the story their biggest investors wish to see.
As for the egocentric attention whores who feel their voice is more important than the common folk that worship them - get back to the day job. If you’re good at something, go be good at it and save your views for chats with your buddies. Don’t abuse the platform you have been given for one thing and then start thinking you can use it for another. Instead take your time, money and voice and back a cause that way.
Reality TV sucks. Let’s not allow the world we live in to be run like one. Time to vote with your feet. Switch that shit off and stop letting it control you.
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onxsm · 6 years
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BASICS
age: twenty - five gender: female species: human pronouns: she/her sexuality: homosexual date of birth: july seventh occupation: professional soccer player place of birth: edmonton, alberta face claim: adelaide kane
PERSONALITY
positive: passionate, laid - back, loyal negative: impatient, flighty, indecisive
FAMILY
father: ZUES GORDON - professional soccer coach - 51 mother: ALANNA GORDON ROGERS - lawyer - 50 step father: MIKE ROGERS - general practitioner - 54 older sister: ATHENA GORDON - CIA Agent - 27 - deceased at 26
BIOGRAPHY
tw: homophobia, abuse, death, shooting
Callisto had a great childhood from what she remembers of it. Being from Edmonton, Alberta, she was constantly going on adventures. She lived for the parkland and the river valley, always asking her father to take her some place new whenever they had the time. Not only did Callisto get her father’s laid-back personality and chill demeanor, she developed the same passion for futbol. Callisto was the youngest of two and to say that she was a daddy’s girl was an understatement. It’s not that she didn’t get along with her mother, she just had a connection with her father that was entirely different. Her mother wanted her to be the perfect image of a daughter when her father just wanted her to be Callisto. He was her best friend, her main support system, and her biggest fan.
Everything was just about perfect. Callisto grew up with a loving mother, an amazing father, one older sister that she looked up to and cherished more than anything, in a place that one couldn’t help but love. She was a star soccer player, one of the best youths that Canada has ever seen. She was intelligent, in a handful of school clubs, and had numerous friends. She was living a picture perfect life from the outside. That is until one day when she was 13, everything changed. She came home from soccer practice to find all of her father’s belongings gone from the house. She knew that her parents were fighting. She knew that it was getting worse throughout the past couple of months. She heard them. Everyone heard them. But, her older sister did everything she could to make sure her little sister couldn’t hear them. Unlike everyone else, Callisto was caught by surprise that her father actually left. What caught her even more by surprise was that him to left without saying goodbye. She didn’t expect him to leave her, not then, not ever.
After her father left, her mother decided it was a brilliant idea to move the family a few hours south to Calgary. It wasn’t a brilliant idea. Callisto was furious and so was Athena. She was angry with her father just up and leaving. She was angry with her mother for moving her away from everything she knew. Her mother just kept telling her that it would be a great experience, new school, new friends, and new opportunities. But Callisto wasn’t buying it. She liked her life in Edmonton. She liked her old school, her old friends, and her old opportunities. She felt betrayed by her parents. And what was worse, her mother started forcing her to become something she wasn’t. She was forcing her to become that girly, girl daughter she always wanted. She forced Callisto to quit soccer, to start dancing again with her sister, to start dressing up in dresses and wearing make up. Her mother forced her to be someone she wasn’t. She wasn’t the star soccer player anymore, she wasn’t as smart as she once was, and she barely had any friends. She was the new girl in the new high school in some new town with a brand new identity. She was down right miserable.
Her relationship with her parents was almost nonexistent after the move. There was radio silence from her father and it was like her and her mother were just two ships passing in the dark. While those relationships struggled, the relationships she had with her sister flourished. Her older sister and was really all that Callisto had left. Despite the couple of years difference, they still got along tremendously. Athena was her reason of pushing through day by day. The love that the two of them shared was undeniable. The connection that she had with her sister was something extraordinary. They just understood each other better than they understood themselves. Callisto could send one look at Athena and the older girl could know exactly what she was thinking and vice versa. They could have long conversations with each other by just looking at the other. It freaked just about everyone around them out. But Callisto was beyond thankful having someone around that knew the real Callisto.
After a few years of losing herself, Callisto fought hard to become the person she was back in Edmonton. She finally stopped living the life that her mother wanted her to. She started being Callisto again. She ditched the dresses, the makeup, the boyfriend in exchange for soccer shorts, cleats, and grass stains. She was playing soccer again and people were finally started to see how good she was. She ended up getting scouted for the Canadian Youth National Team. She started playing for the U-18 team at 15, even against her mother’s wishes. One could say that Callisto was rebelling a little bit, but she learned that she needed to live her life for her and not for anyone else. That’s when things became even rockier. Her mother started dating this new guy, Mike. He was okay and helped out here and there, but Callisto wasn’t having it. Especially when Mike was starting to act like a father to her and her sister. That’s when the fighting between the three of them became war like.
Callisto didn’t want to go to college. She wanted to go straight to playing pro ball. It wasn’t like her mom and Mike were going to fund her post secondary education and Callisto thought it was a waste of money to get a degree that she was never going to use. The two of them also thought that she could never make a career out of playing futbol, even though she was still one of the best, most technical players that Canada has ever produced. So, when Callisto turned 17, she packed everything she owned into a suitcase and left. She had nothing left in Calgary. She dropped out of high school and moved to LA to follow her sister who was in the FBI. But that wasn’t all. Unfortunately for her, the only person that could help her follow her dreams was her father.
At 17, Callisto went on a search for the man that left her and her family all those years ago. The only reason she was looking for him was so that he could sign her dual citizenship papers. She was old enough now to become a citizen of her father’s homeland and play for the best women’s soccer team in the world, the United States. Even though the Canadian National Team has put so much time and effort to mold her into the player she is now, the United States National Team took interest in her instantly. Callisto would have had to wait another couple of years until she got the full call up with Canada, but the US wanted her right then and there. All she had to do was get her dual citizenship and she would be on the Senior National Team. After a few days of searching, Callisto finally found him, only thirty minutes from Edmonton. That little fact, that he was only thirty minutes away, made Callisto even angrier. Their first meeting in four years was something she never would have expected. There were harsh words thrown around, tears shed, and no apologies. There was one deal that was made. Her father would sign the papers if she provided one ticket for him to go to her games.
Callisto started living out her dreams. She was traveling the world never really staying in one place. She was meeting different people, experiencing different cultures. She was helping people in a way that she never thought was possible. She was having the time of her life playing the sport she loved for the best of the best. Although she was incredibly happy, being away from her sister was hard. Even though she was off living her own dream, Callisto missed her every single day. At first it was great since she was in LA for a few months working on being home schooled and getting everything done with US Soccer. But after all of that, she was barely around anymore. She felt guilty that she wasn’t there for all their monumental accomplishments. That’s why Callisto made sure that she called her sister at least twice a week and would visit as much as she possibly could. Any big event, Callisto would be on the next plane to LA. She wanted her to have that support system no matter where she was in the world.
When she got the email from Paris Saint Germain, she was shocked. She didn’t think that she was getting noticed or that she was even good enough to play for that level. She was still only 17 and for years the Canadian coach always told her she wasn’t good enough yet. The team offered her a four-year contract with allocation. That way she could still play for the national team and what ever club team she wanted to. Just, the amount of time that was taken from PSG would be added on in the end. There was no way that Callisto could say no to this opportunity. There was no way that she wanted to say no. The only problem was that she would be on an entirely different continent than her sister. And that scared her. After nights of constantly talking to Athena, they finally made the decision. Well, Athena flat out told her that she was going no matter what.
Paris was more than a dream come true. It was everything she didn’t know she wanted. She loved the sense of adventure that reminded her of her hometown. She loved the style of futbol that she was learning. Callisto would play her season for PSG, travel with the USWNT when they were in competition, and play for the Portland Thorns during their season. By the time her contract came to ending, she knew that she couldn’t stay in Paris any longer. Portland was offering her so many more opportunities. Plus, it was only an hour plane ride from her sister.  Callisto was unbelievably happy with her life. She was playing futbol and loving it. She’s seen more of the world than she’s ever thought she would. She’s won more medals than her Canadian coach could ever dream of. Everything was perfect. That is until she got a phone call a few months ago. For the first time in years, her mother made a phone call waking her up at 2 am. The words that came out of that woman’s mouth will always haunt the midfielder. Her older sister was killed during duty. Shot three times in the chest, one hitting piercing through her heart that killed her instantly. Callisto didn’t know what to do or think. The only thing she could do was to go home for the first time since she left almost ten years ago.  
Callisto lost herself when she lost her sister. She felt empty the majority of the time and when she actually did feel, she was guilty. She constantly thought that she should have never left, that she should have been there to constantly protect her pride and joy. But, she was too busy being selfish and living out her dreams. For months after Athena’s passing, Callisto was a shell of herself. She was angry and bitter. She didn’t know how to act or how to be. Her one true love, soccer, didn’t bring her joy any more. Nothing could fix the pain in her chest. One day on the field, an opposing player was getting to rough with her. She made one stupid comment that set the midfielder off. One thing after another, the defender had a broken nose and Callisto was the cause of it. She was instantly suspended for the rest of the season. She wasn’t to be called up for international play. She was left open for other teams to pick up if they wanted, but no one within the NWSL was crazy enough to. That was until she got a call from her manager telling her she was moving to London. Arsenal FC decided to take a chance on her for the upcoming season. They thought she’d be a great asset to the squad and could help her cope with the loss of her sister.
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EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE:
BANNON AND TRUMP
On a sweltering morning in October 2017, the man who had more or less single-handedly brought about the U.S. withdrawal from the Paris climate accord, stood on the steps of the Breitbart town house and said, with a hearty laugh, “I guess global warming is real.”
Steve Bannon had lost twenty pounds since his exit from the White House six weeks before—he was on a crash all-sushi diet. “That building,” said his friend David Bossie, speaking about all White Houses but especially the Trump White House, “takes perfectly healthy people and turns them into old, unhealthy people.” But Bannon, who Bossie had declared on virtual life support during his final days in the West Wing, was again, by his own description, “on fire.” He had moved out of the Arlington “safe house” and reestablished himself back at the Breitbart Embassy, turning it into a headquarters for the next stage of the Trump movement, which might not include Trump at all.
Asked about Trump’s leadership of the nationalist-populist movement, Bannon registered a not inconsiderable change in the country’s political landscape: “I am the leader of the national-populist movement.”
One cause of Bannon’s boast and new resolve was that Trump, for no reason that Bannon could quite divine, had embraced Mitch McConnell’s establishment candidate in the recent Republican run-off in Alabama rather than support the nat-pop choice for the Senate seat vacated by now attorney general Jeff Sessions. After all, McConnell and the president were barely on speaking terms. From his August “working holiday” in Bedminster, the president’s staff had tried to organize a makeup meeting with McConnell, but McConnell’s staff had sent back word that it wouldn’t be possible because the Senate leader would be getting a haircut.
But the president—ever hurt and confused by his inability to get along with the congressional leadership, and then, conversely, enraged by their refusal to get along with him—had gone all-in for the McConnell-backed Luther Strange, who had run against Bannon’s candidate, the right-wing firebrand Roy Moore. (Even by Alabama standards, Moore was far right: he had been removed as chief justice of the Alabama Supreme Court for defying a federal court order to take down a monument of the Ten Commandments in the Alabama judicial building.)
For Bannon, the president’s political thinking had been obtuse at best. He was unlikely to get anything from McConnell—and indeed Trump had demanded nothing for his support for Luther Strange, which came via an unplanned tweet in August. Strange’s prospects were not only dim, but he was likely to lose in a humiliating fashion. Roy Moore was the clear candidate of the Trump base—and he was Bannon’s candidate. Hence, that would be the contest: Trump against Bannon. In fact, the president really didn’t have to support anyone—no one would have complained if he’d stayed neutral in a primary race. Or, he could have tacitly supported Strange and not doubled down with more and more insistent tweets.
For Bannon, this episode was not only about the president’s continuing and curious confusion about what he represented, but about his mercurial, intemperate, and often cockamamie motivations. Against all political logic, Trump had supported Luther Strange, he told Bannon, because “Luther’s my friend.”
“He said it like a nine-year-old,” said Bannon, recoiling, and noting that there was no universe in which Trump and Strange were actually friends.
For every member of the White House senior staff this would be the lasting conundrum of dealing with President Trump: the “why” of his often baffling behavior.
“The president fundamentally wants to be liked” was Katie Walsh’s analysis. “He just fundamentally needs to be liked so badly that it’s always . . . everything is a struggle for him.”
This translated into a constant need to win something—anything. Equally important, it was essential that he look like a winner. Of course, trying to win without consideration, plan, or clear goals had, in the course of the administration’s first nine months, resulted in almost nothing but losses. At the same time, confounding all political logic, that lack of a plan, that impulsivity, that apparent joie de guerre, had helped create the disruptiveness that seemed to so joyously shatter the status quo for so many.
But now, Bannon thought, that novelty was finally wearing off.
For Bannon, the Strange-Moore race had been a test of the Trump cult of personality. Certainly Trump continued to believe that people were following him, that he was the movement—and that his support was worth 8 to 10 points in any race. Bannon had decided to test this thesis and to do it as dramatically as possible. All told, the Senate Republican leadership and others spent $32 million on Strange’s campaign, while Moore’s campaign spent $2 million.
Trump, though aware of Strange’s deep polling deficit, had agreed to extend his support in a personal trip. But his appearance in Huntsville, Alabama, on September 22, before a Trump-size crowd, was a political flatliner. It was a full-on Trump speech, ninety minutes of rambling and improvisation—the wall would be built (now it was a see-through wall), Russian interference in the U.S. election was a hoax, he would fire anybody on his cabinet who supported Moore. But, while his base turned out en masse, still drawn to Trump the novelty, his cheerleading for Luther Strange drew at best a muted response. As the crowd became restless, the event threatened to become a hopeless embarrassment.
Reading his audience and desperate to find a way out, Trump suddenly threw out a line about Colin Kaepernick taking to his knee while the national anthem played at a National Football League game. The line got a standing ovation. The president thereupon promptly abandoned Luther Strange for the rest of the speech. Likewise, for the next week he continued to whip the NFL. Pay no attention to Strange’s resounding defeat five days after the event in Huntsville. Ignore the size and scale of Trump’s rejection and the Moore-Bannon triumph, with its hint of new disruptions to come. Now Trump had a new topic, and a winning one: the Knee.
* * *
The fundamental premise of nearly everybody who joined the Trump White House was, This can work. We can help make this work. Now, only three-quarters of the way through just the first year of Trump’s term, there was literally not one member of the senior staff who could any longer be confident of that premise. Arguably—and on many days indubitably—most members of the senior staff believed that the sole upside of being part of the Trump White House was to help prevent worse from happening.
In early October, Secretary of State Rex Tillerson’s fate was sealed—if his obvious ambivalence toward the president had not already sealed it—by the revelation that he had called the president “a fucking moron.”
This—insulting Donald Trump’s intelligence—was both the thing you could not do and the thing—drawing there-but-for-the-grace-of-God guffaws across the senior staff—that everybody was guilty of. Everyone, in his or her own way, struggled to express the baldly obvious fact that the president did not know enough, did not know what he didn’t know, did not particularly care, and, to boot, was confident if not serene in his unquestioned certitudes. There was now a fair amount of back-of-the-classroom giggling about who had called Trump what. For Steve Mnuchin and Reince Priebus, he was an “idiot.” For Gary Cohn, he was “dumb as shit.” For H. R. McMaster he was a “dope.” The list went on.
Tillerson would merely become yet another example of a subordinate who believed that his own abilities could somehow compensate for Trump’s failings.
Aligned with Tillerson were the three generals, Mattis, McMasters, and Kelly, each seeing themselves as representing maturity, stability, and restraint. And each, of course, was resented by Trump for it. The suggestion that any or all of these men might be more focused and even tempered than Trump himself was cause for sulking and tantrums on the president’s part.
The daily discussion among senior staffers, those still there and those now gone—all of whom had written off Tillerson’s future in the Trump administration—was how long General Kelly would last as chief of staff. There was something of a virtual office pool, and the joke was that Reince Priebus was likely to be Trump’s longest-serving chief of staff. Kelly’s distaste for the president was open knowledge—in his every word and gesture he condescended to Trump—the president’s distaste for Kelly even more so. It was sport for the president to defy Kelly, who had become the one thing in his life he had never been able to abide: a disapproving and censorious father figure.
* * *
There really were no illusions at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Kelly’s long-suffering antipathy toward the president was rivaled only by his scorn for the president’s family—“Kushner,” he pronounced, was “insubordinate.” Cohn’s derisive contempt for Kushner as well as the president was even greater. In return, the president heaped more abuse on Cohn—the former president of Goldman Sachs was now a “complete idiot, dumber than dumb.” In fact, the president had also stopped defending his own family, wondering when they would “take the hint and go home.”
But, of course, this was still politics: those who could overcome shame or disbelief—and, despite all Trumpian coarseness and absurdity, suck up to him and humor him—might achieve unique political advantage. As it happened, few could.
By October, however, many on the president’s staff took particular notice of one of the few remaining Trump opportunists: Nikki Haley, the UN ambassador. Haley—“as ambitious as Lucifer,” in the characterization of one member of the senior staff—had concluded that Trump’s tenure would last, at best, a single term, and that she, with requisite submission, could be his heir apparent. Haley had courted and befriended Ivanka, and Ivanka had brought her into the family circle, where she had become a particular focus of Trump’s attention, and he of hers. Haley, as had become increasingly evident to the wider foreign policy and national security team, was the family’s pick for secretary of state after Rex Tillerson’s inevitable resignation. (Likewise, in this shuffle, Dina Powell would replace Haley at the UN.)
The president had been spending a notable amount of private time with Haley on Air Force One and was seen to be grooming her for a national political future. Haley, who was much more of a traditional Republican, one with a pronounced moderate streak—a type increasingly known as a Jarvanka Republican—was, evident to many, being mentored in Trumpian ways. The danger here, offered one senior Trumper, “is that she is so much smarter than him.”
What now existed, even before the end of the president’s first year, was an effective power vacuum. The president, in his failure to move beyond daily chaos, had hardly seized the day. But, as sure as politics, someone would.
In that sense, the Trumpian and Republican future was already moving beyond this White House. There was Bannon, working from the outside and trying to take over the Trump movement. There was the Republican leadership in Congress, trying to stymie Trumpism—if not slay it. There was John McCain, doing his best to embarrass it. There was the special counsel’s office, pursuing the president and many of those around him.
The stakes were very clear to Bannon. Haley, quite an un-Trumpian figure, but by far the closest of any of his cabinet members to him, might, with clever political wiles, entice Trump to hand her the Trumpian revolution. Indeed, fearing Haley’s hold on the president, Bannon’s side had—the very morning that Bannon had stood on the steps of the Breitbart town house in the unseasonable October weather—gone into overdrive to push the CIA’s Mike Pompeo for State after Tillerson’s departure.
This was all part of the next stage of Trumpism—to protect it from Trump.
* * *
General Kelly was conscientiously and grimly trying to purge the West Wing chaos. He had begun by compartmentalizing the sources and nature of the chaos. The overriding source, of course, was the president’s own eruptions, which Kelly could not control and had resigned himself to accepting. As for the ancillary chaos, much of it had been calmed by the elimination of Bannon, Priebus, Scaramucci, and Spicer, with the effect of making it quite a Jarvanka-controlled West Wing.
Now, nine months in, the administration faced the additional problem that it was very hard to hire anyone of stature to replace the senior people who had departed. And the stature of those who remained seemed to be more diminutive by the week.
Hope Hicks, at twenty-eight, and Stephen Miller, at thirty-two, both of whom had begun as effective interns on the campaign, were now among the seniormost figures in the White House. Hicks had assumed command of the communications operation, and Miller had effectively replaced Bannon as the senior political strategist.
After the Scaramucci fiasco, and the realization that the position of communications director would be vastly harder to fill, Hicks was assigned the job as the “interim” director. She was given the interim title partly because it seemed implausible that she was qualified to run an already battered messaging operation, and partly because if she was given the permanent job everyone would assume that the president was effectively calling the daily shots. But by the middle of September, interim was quietly converted to permanent.
In the larger media and political world, Miller—who Bannon referred to as “my typist”—was a figure of ever increasing incredulity. He could hardly be taken out in public without engaging in some screwball, if not screeching, fit of denunciation and grievance. He was the de facto crafter of policy and speeches, and yet up until now he had largely only taken dictation.
Most problematic of all, Hicks and Miller, along with everyone on the Jarvanka side, were now directly connected to actions involved in the Russian investigation or efforts to spin it, deflect it, or, indeed, cover it up. Miller and Hicks had drafted—or at least typed—Kushner’s version of the first letter written at Bedminster to fire Comey. Hicks had joined with Kushner and his wife to draft on Air Force One the Trump-directed press release about Don Jr. and Kushner’s meeting with the Russians in Trump Tower.
In its way, this had become the defining issue for the White House staff: who had been in what inopportune room. And even beyond the general chaos, the constant legal danger formed part of the high barrier to getting people to come work in the West Wing.
Kushner and his wife—now largely regarded as a time bomb inside the White House—were spending considerable time on their own defense and battling a sense of mounting paranoia, not least about what members of the senior staff who had already exited the West Wing might now say about them. Kushner, in the middle of October, would, curiously, add to his legal team Charles Harder, the libel lawyer who had defended both Hulk Hogan in his libel suit against Gawker, the Internet gossip site, and Melania Trump in her suit against the Daily Mail. The implied threat to media and to critics was clear. Talk about Jared Kushner at your peril. It also likely meant that Donald Trump was yet managing the White House’s legal defense, slotting in his favorite “tough guy” lawyers.
Beyond Donald Trump’s own daily antics, here was the consuming issue of the White House: the ongoing investigation directed by Robert Mueller. The father, the daughter, the son-in-law, his father, the extended family exposure, the prosecutor, the retainers looking to save their own skins, the staffers who Trump had rewarded with the back of his hand—it all threatened, in Bannon’s view, to make Shakespeare look like Dr. Seuss.
Everyone waited for the dominoes to fall, and to see how the president, in his fury, might react and change the game again.
* * *
Steve Bannon was telling people he thought there was a 33.3 percent chance that the Mueller investigation would lead to the impeachment of the president, a 33.3 percent chance that Trump would resign, perhaps in the wake of a threat by the cabinet to act on the Twenty-Fifth Amendment (by which the cabinet can remove the president in the event of his incapacitation), and a 33.3 percent chance that he would limp to the end of his term. In any event, there would certainly not be a second term, or even an attempt at one.
“He’s not going to make it,” said Bannon at the Breitbart Embassy. “He’s lost his stuff.”
Less volubly, Bannon was telling people something else: he, Steve Bannon, was going to run for president in 2020. The locution, “If I were president . . .” was turning into, “When I am president . . .”
The top Trump donors from 2016 were in his camp, Bannon claimed: Sheldon Adelson, the Mercers, Bernie Marcus, and Peter Thiel. In short order, and as though he had been preparing for this move for some time, Bannon had left the White House and quickly thrown together a rump campaign organization. The heretofore behind-the-scenes Bannon was methodically meeting with every conservative leader in the country—doing his best, as he put it, to “kiss the ass and pay homage to all the gray-beards.” And he was keynoting a list of must-attend conservative events.
“Why is Steve speaking? I didn’t know he spoke,” the president remarked with puzzlement and rising worry to aides.
Trump had been upstaged in other ways as well. He had been scheduled for a major 60 Minutes interview in September, but this was abruptly canceled after Bannon’s 60 Minutes interview with Charlie Rose on September 11. The president’s advisers felt he shouldn’t put himself in a position where he would be compared with Bannon. The worry among staffers—all of them concerned that Trump’s rambling and his alarming repetitions (the same sentences delivered with the same expressions minutes apart) had significantly increased, and that his ability to stay focused, never great, had notably declined—was that he was likely to suffer by such a comparison. Instead, the interview with Trump was offered to Sean Hannity—with a preview of the questions.
Bannon was also taking the Breitbart opposition research group—the same forensic accountant types who had put together the damning Clinton Cash revelations—and focusing it on what he characterized as the “political elites.” This was a catchall list of enemies that included as many Republicans as Democrats.
Most of all, Bannon was focused on fielding candidates for 2018. While the president had repeatedly threatened to support primary challenges against his enemies, in the end, with his aggressive head start, it was Bannon who would be leading these challenges. It was Bannon spreading fear in the Republican Party, not Trump. Indeed, Bannon was willing to pick outré if not whacky candidates—including former Staten Island congressman Michael Grimm, who had done a stint in federal prison—to demonstrate, as he had demonstrated with Trump, the scale, artfulness, and menace of Bannon-style politics. Although the Republicans in the 2018 congressional races were looking, according to Bannon’s numbers, at a 15-point deficit, it was Bannon’s belief that the more extreme the right-wing challenge appeared, the more likely the Democrats would field left-wing nutters even less electable than right-wing nutters. The disruption had just begun.
Trump, in Bannon’s view, was a chapter, or even a detour, in the Trump revolution, which had always been about weaknesses in the two major parties. The Trump presidency—however long it lasted—had created the opening that would provide the true outsiders their opportunity. Trump was just the beginning.
Standing on the Breitbart steps that October morning, Bannon smiled and said: “It’s going to be wild as shit.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to Janice Min and Matthew Belloni at the Hollywood Reporter, who, eighteen months ago, got me up one morning to jump on a plane in New York and that evening interview the unlikely candidate in Los Angeles. My publisher, Stephen Rubin, and editor, John Sterling, at Henry Holt have not only generously supported this book but shepherded it with enthusiasm and care on an almost daily basis. My agent, Andrew Wylie, made this book happen, as usual, virtually overnight.
Michael Jackson at Two Cities TV, Peter Benedek at UTA, and my lawyers, Kevin Morris and Alex Kohner, have patiently pushed this project forward.
A libel reading can be like a visit to the dentist. But in my long experience, no libel lawyer is more nuanced, sensitive, and strategic than Eric Rayman. Once again, almost a pleasure.
Many friends, colleagues, and generous people in the greater media and political world have made this a smarter book, among them Mike Allen, Jonathan Swan, John Homans, Franklin Foer, Jack Shafer, Tammy Haddad, Leela de Kretser, Stevan Keane, Matt Stone, Edward Jay Epstein, Simon Dumenco, Tucker Carlson, Joe Scarborough, Piers Morgan, Juleanna Glover, Niki Christoff, Dylan Jones, Michael Ledeen, Mike Murphy, Tim Miller, Larry McCarthy, Benjamin Ginsberg, Al From, Kathy Ruemmler, Matthew Hiltzik, Lisa Dallos, Mike Rogers, Joanna Coles, Steve Hilton, Michael Schrage, Matt Cooper, Jim Impoco, Michael Feldman, Scott McConnell, and Mehreen Maluk.
My appreciation to fact-checkers Danit Lidor, Christina Goulding, and Joanne Gerber.
My greatest thanks to Victoria Floethe, for her support, patience, and insights, and for her good grace in letting this book take such a demanding place in our lives.
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