Elizabeth & Ivy (Descendants OCs) | Captain's Orders
wc: 651
summary: Ivy and Elizabeth meet for the first time, and neither of them are ready for it
notes: truly, they do not stop interacting like this for nearly a whole book
The Isle of the Lost was a treacherous place full of the most evil, criminal, wrongdoing people in the whole of Auradon. At least, that was what Ivy had been taught as a child. And now she was hours away from meeting another person from the Isle, a girl whose name and reputation had arrived long before she would.
Auradon had destroyed her, which sounded stupid to even think. Elizabeth had arrived with the expectation that she’d be evil, she’d almost played into it too. Then she’d done everything she could to play by the rules, to be as good as they’d hoped for her. And all to get something she still didn’t have, all within the space of a week. Now she didn’t even have herself to rely on.
The long taxi journey was already making her feel slightly sick, the nerves helping nothing, and the only constant in Elizabeth’s mind was how pathetic she’d become in a week. Outside of that, she tried to focus on Neverland. This should be her place. In a few hours she’d be meeting her new roomate, someone she could try and be kind to in the hope that collaboration could get her the answers she was looking for. Or, after the week she’d had in Auradon, intimidation would at least get her left alone. Or maybe she’d spend the night on the beach, staring at the ocean to try and find a sense of right, and this would be a decision for the following morning.
The room as tidy, at least to Ivy’s standards. She heard the car engine outside, the tyres rolling over the gravel path, and finally the engine turn off. Silence really pit her heart in her mouth. She’d had her own hours of overthinking but had ultimately decided that sitting on her bed was the best way to present herself; someone who respected their own space, and was non-confrontationally laid back. Footsteps along the corridor. Her heartbrat pounded in her ears, and the door opened.
Elizabeth stood in the doorway like a deer in headlights, as if she had a sword and shield ready to hide behind. Her new roomate was smaller than her, looked more timid than her, seemed kinder than her. And in response, all Elizabeth felt was shame. She stayed silent without knowing what to do about it.
Ivy mentally scolded herself for judging someone before knowing a thing about them, or at least before actually meeting them. The uncertainty in her eyes proved she'd seen a lot, Ivy's assessment landing somewhere between certainty that anyone from the Isle who looked scared had seen something horrific since, and that no matter how tough she was, the Isle was designed to mess people up. Either way, she stood slowly, and approached Elizabeth as if she was a frightened animal.
“Hi,” she started softly, “my name's Ivy.”
“I'm Elizabeth,” she replied like she'd been told to.
“I know,” Ivy started, realising it sounded threateningly ambiguous. “My friend, he's Wendy's son, he told me you were arriving tonight, that your name was Elizabeth and you're from the Isle of the Lost.” And now she'd said too much. “I'm not scared or anything.”
“Okay.”
The silence stretched on, the awkwardness thick.
“Can I help you unpack, or anything?” Ivy offered. Truthfully Elizabeth hadn’t planned to unpack her bag. But she was presented with the question, and she still hadn’t settled fully on an approach.
“If you want, I guess.”
To anyone else she may have seemed standoffish, even mean, but Ivy saw straight through it all. Matthew had warned her it would likely be the case, and she'd seen how Edward had been even after a few months of living in Neverland. Elizabeth was anxious. Ivy was eager to help. And somehow, their first night of being roomates was off to a better start than either of them had anticipated.
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summary: Daisy's been ignoring the lingering aftershocks of their falling out for years, but but sitting with her hockey team, she still notices Arielle staring from across the cafeteria
notes: I need you to know that Arielle actually is the problem
Daisy was very aware of how important the social side of things were to her chances of being captain of the hockey team next year. She could also be reassured that her best friend also had other friends, and wouldn't be sitting alone at lunch, as she carried her tray over the table of athletes in various uniform, the school colours standing out above everyone else. Despite loving sports her whole life, and logically understanding that she'd end up sitting with her teammates, she never quite comprehended that she now counted as part of the popular crowd. Daisy from five years ago could've called it immediately, but now she was in those shoes she'd once dreamt of, it didn't feel quite the same. They seemed too big to fill.
Arielle had years to bask in rage. At her lowest, the people who'd promised they were her best friends had insulted her, and abandoned her. It had taken years to scrape a semblance of self-worth back, and now she finally had a few friends, real friends, she'd never let anyone do her that dirty again. She'd gone off campus to grab a toasted panini from the cafe down the street, and it was just starting to go cold as she watched Daisy saunter across the cafeteria to her new popular friends. At least she'd done better for herself than the fake crowd of cheerleaders and footballers, Arielle thought, looking ot Jocelyn on her right, and glancing over Corrinne and Maddie. Real friends were better than many any day.
Daisy would be lying if she claimed she hadn't noticed Arielle's glare of daggers across the room at her. Not just today, but every day or near enough, for years. It was practically routine now, but routine didn't make it any more comfortable. Each step she took felt like walking away that day all over again, but there was nothing to do for someone who chose aggression time and time again. She still felt guilty like it was all still fresh. Arielle wouldn't cross her though, the closest she'd ever got was this back and forth every opportunity she had.
She'd spend all the time she had left in this place making sure they knew what they'd done to her. Forever didn't mean anything, it turned out. They'd know. Daisy couldn't hide in the hockey team forever.
summary: Bradley goes to meet Bianca after his performance
notes: ugh so dialogue heavy, not my fave, might throw a part 3 out at some point might not, this did not flow as nice as the first part did
Bella leant over Bianca’s shoulder, taking a look at whatever information she had on the lockscreen, before gently taking the phone off Bianca and dialling the number back. Her call was picked up after the first ring, as Bianca looked on in mild, spaced-out horror.
“What do you want?” Bella demanded.
“Who am I talking to?” a male voice on the other end asked, quickly catching onto the fact Bianca was not the one who’d called. Bella didn’t recognise them. “Where’s Bianca, have you stolen her phone?” From where she sat, Bianca couldn’t hear the other side of the call, for if she could, she quickly could have intervened with the misunderstanding.
“I’m not telling you where she is,” Bella firmly said.
“What have you done to her. why does someone else have her phone?” Bradley accused. One minute he’d been putting his guitar in its case, ready to meet Bianca to watch the Half Past Never set, and the next he was frantically scanning the far denser crowd and coming to terms with the fact she wasn’t in it. “I finish my set, and she’s gone, where is she?”
That didn’t make sense. Bianca would never have gone to anything Merrick was supposed to be playing, Bella knew better than that.
“What— Is this Merrick?”
“No, what—?” he stuttered in utter confusion, but the assumption quickly made sense. “It’s Bradley.”
“I am so sorry oh my god, this is mortifying,” Bella apologised to him, before passing the phone back to Bianca, “it’s Bradley.”
“Bradley, hi, I’m so sorry about that,” Bianca started, quickly interrupted by his panic from across town.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, that terrified me,” he admitted, “I was about to threaten to fight her, I don’t know how to fight anyone.” Bianca laughed, relief to him that she was okay at very least. Bella smiled from beside her. “Is everything okay? Are you still at the pub?”
“No, I… I’m so sorry I should’ve told you, I couldn’t— I…” she sighed, trying to string the words together in any way that wouldn’t restart a panic attack. “I’m by the docks, I’m with Bella.”
“I got that much,” Bradley gently replied. “Can I come and meet you, or did you leave to call an end to tonight?”
“No, no not at all, it’s nothing about you,” Bianca started, realising what she’d actually said. “I’d love you to come and meet me. I’m so sorry things went the way they did, I’ll explain, I promise.”
“It’s okay,” Bradley interrupted her spiral, “you can tell me as much as you want when I find you.”
It took him another ten minutes of walking, following the live location map Bianca had sent to his number, which she’d now saved. As he turned down the last road, a tiny alley, the sound of water lapping against stone clashed with the strong smell of weed, but upon hearing Bianca’s laugh he was reassured enough to follow it.
“Bianca?” he softly called around the corner, giving her and Bella the chance to stand before he got to them. He smiled in relief at actually seeing her. “Hi.”
“Hey,” she smiled, sudden nervousness overtaking her, the amount she’d smoked doing nothing to touch it. If nothing else, she knew she was glad to see him.
“Is everything okay?” Bradley continued. There must’ve been a good reason for her to leave, especially so suddenly.
“Yeah,” Bianca replied, an obvious untruth, but she was yet to manage to explain it was an attempt to hide reality from herself, not him. “I mean, no, not totally, but it kind of is now?” She needed to start explaining things, and fast. “I’m high.”
“I could’ve guessed that, yeah,” Bradley nodded towards the joint still loosely gripped between her fingers. “What happened?”
“Do you want me to leave you two?” Bella whispered needlessly. “Leave you to your evening plans?”
“Thank you,” Bianca said. “I’ll get you back sometime, I’ll text.”
“No worries,” Bella brushed the sentiment aside. They were there for each other, that was how it had always been. “Have fun.”
The atmosphere between Bianca and Bradley shifted the moment Bella had left back down the alleyway. Despite the slight fuzziness to her fingertips and the world around her, and the inherent unseriousness of how everything sounded, Bianca quickly felt herself sobering up under the pressure to get things right. Bradley waited for her to say the thing that was so evidently on her mind in the way she stared into space.
“Merrick and Jake showed up,” Bianca blurted out before she could overthink it any more. “That was… that’s it, really.”
“To watch me?” Bradley clarified. He hadn’t noticed them, not at any point that evening, and the oversight had started eating away at him the second she mentioned it. How had he not noticed…
“They arrived just after you finished,” she continued explaining. “I ran, I’m so sorry I should’ve said something, I just couldn’t—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Bradley softly told her, placing a gentle hand on her upper arm. When she softened against his touch, he slid his hand down to her forearm, and held her other arm in his free hand. “I should’ve texted you. That must’ve been stressful to get missed calls from a number you don’t recognise.”
“It’s saved now,” she promised. “And I should’ve texted you too.”
“No, it’s not your fault, don’t worry,” Bradley said, hoping to totally put a stop to her endless apologies. He couldn’t completely comprehend what she must’ve felt upon seeing her ex again so soon, but he’d certainly felt mind-numbing panic before. “It’s okay, I’m with you again now.”
“I’m sorry I ruined our night,” she continued, “I loved your set though.”
“Yeah?” he softly smiled, focussing on the better parts of her evening. “Night’s not over yet Bee, what do you want to do with it?”
“I want you to hold me,” she bluntly replied, and as soon as she’d made the request, he did, gently moving her against his chest. “Was that too forward?” she mumbled.
summary: Emilia never wanted to go back to her uni city for any reason, especially not something as trivial as graduating
notes: for context, she did just survive the robot apocalypse
Emilia had long lost any care for her university graduation. Her identity as an academic had dissolved with her chances of being valedictorian at high school, and had blown away in the wind after two near death experiences in the duration of her degree. The very last place she wanted to be was amongst the people it had all happened in around, but her mother wanted photos.
The multiple hour car jouney ticked by in near silence, her father’s 80s rock playlist looping three times while she gave minimal answers to any conversation he started, afraid to think any further ahead than the next song. Familiar landmarks along the motorway, signs that they were nearly there, bore a pit in her stomach that no amount of mindful breathing was getting rid of.
Ironically, the university hosted their graduation at the city’s theatre, the venue Emilia had performed in for her last module, the penultimate day she was on campus in general.
The day before she’d seriously nearly been killed. It had made the stab wound seem like nothing.
Parking at the theatre again set a tremour through her whole body, the same kind of deep buried shudder you felt after being outside in the freezing cold all day. Thankfully, they weren’t too early.
“Do you still have my ticket?” her father asked, bringing Emilia back to the moment. It took her a second to process what he’d said at all, before she rummaged through her small crossbody bag to find it for him. “Thanks.”
“I guess I’ll see you afterwards?” she mumbled, filled with dread that she’d be recognised and somehow attacked again despite the formal agreement to let her graduate, and this would be the last time she saw her dad at all.
“See you later,” he replied brightly, accepting her wavering prompt for an awkward side hug, and kissing the top of her head. “I’m proud of you Meelie.”
“Thanks dad, see you later,” she replied, before heading to the signposted graduate entrance without giving in to the urge to look back over her shoulder.
Inside, Emilia nearly wished she’d got there earlier. Graduates were everywhere, and with all the caps and gowns uniforming them, she struggled to even try to recognise anyone. Thankfully everything was signposted, the line to pick up a hired gown stretching around two roped-off bends, and the photography hall another corridor down. May as well join the line now.
“Em!”
She frantically scanned the crowd for the familiar voice, heart in her throat and tears threatening to drag her mascara down her cheeks as she was absorbed in panic.
“Em, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Katy smiled at her, she was smiling, she was okay. And by the way she was standing, her knee injury had healed well in the months since they’d last seen each other. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I don’t know how you are,” she honestly admitted. “I am so on edge.” Then Emilia looked just past her, noticing the very reason for Katy’s ease. Freddie, Freya, and Johnny were all just behind her, a mix of encouraging and sympathetic smiles.
“It’s okay, we’re all sticking together now,” Katy replied, deciding for her. “I’m so glad you came, I haven’t seen you since…”
She didn’t need to say it. Your city rarely gets overrun by androids more than once.
Arielle & Poppy (Ninjago OCs) | Popular with a Capital P
wc: 398
summary: Poppy has second thoughts about what she's wearing to a Valentine's Day party
notes: Arielle's relationship with the word 'fan' is not linear
The moment Poppy had walked through the school gates for the first time, Arielle knew they had to be friends. And now, five months into a total rollercoaster of a friendship, they'd stuck through it all despite the many, many cracks starting to form. Poppy had been on the path to fame for years; a small career in child acting in her preteen years taking after her mother, singing lessons shortly after to give her the best chance in stage show auditions, and endless signups for self-tapes. Finally her hard work was starting to pay off. And Arielle cared for none of it.
School was a fashion show, at least a practice ground, and every compliment Arielle received fuelled her. Years of meticulously curating her own outfits had rewarded her with a great social standing. The moment she saw Poppy, she saw the potential of a new mannequin. Listening to her talk about how she’d be attending red carpet events any day now, for months, only solidified her plan. Singing and dancing around on stage sounded like a high stress worst nightmare, but being the one to dress that celebrity? She'd been researching fashion schools for years.
“Have you considered wearing pink?” Arielle casually mentioned midway through Poppy’s excited news of a Valentine’s Day party she’d been invited to. ‘Guest list exclusive’ apparently. Arielle understood people well, and had years of experience under her belt to be sure that the subtle comment would totally rattle her.
“I mean, I got some really great comments about the lilac gown I wore on my last carpet,” Poppy countered, her confidence false and Arielle could see it.
“Yeah but it’s Valentine’s,” Arielle half agreed like it was obvious, like Poppy deserved better. “Look, you’ve still got time, right?” Poppy nodded, eyes slightly wider with subtle awareness of the time pressure. Of course she couldn’t get close to repeating a look, that was common knowledge now. “So let me draw a few things up and we can go from there.”
“This is why you’re my best friend,” Poppy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“Couldn’t call myself your biggest fan if I didn’t,” Arielle smiled. It had little to do with her friendship with Poppy. If everything continued to go her way, she’d have one of her outfits at an exclusive celebrity event. And that was one step closer to being there herself.
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I know we weren’t going to talk again, but I want to apologise. I’m sorry. There’s a lot I was wrong about.
You know that when we met, I definitely had the wrong idea about you. I assumed you weren’t just privileged in terms of where you came from, but also had it as a mindset, and weren’t aware of that. You showed me that wasn’t the case quickly, but I still held it against you at times, which wasn’t fair.
I’m sorry I lied about trusting you. You could’ve handled the truth without blowing up at me, but I didn’t even trust that. I should’ve explained how hard it is for me to trust anyone now, instead of telling you what I though you wanted to hear.
And I’m sorry I told you to do all those things that I didn’t actually want you to do. To leave me alone. To let me go back to the Isle without following me. To go back to Auradon and never attempt to contact me again. I thought getting you as far away from me as possible was the best thing for you, that it would keep you safe and give you a better life than what you could’ve had with me. But that was never my choice to make, especially when I so badly want you around me. And I was terrified that if I didn’t tell you to, you’d make that choice by yourself, and then I’d really be alone.
I’m used to lying, manipulation, and people doing anything to get what they want, and I always swore to myself that I’d be better than how I was raised. But I didn’t show you that. I know this is just the surface, and it’s only the start of everything I want to say. If you’d have me, I’d love to talk to you in person. Wherever you want, whenever you’d make time for it. If it’s too late, I understand.
Thank you for hearing me out this far. You’re better than I’ve deserved, but I’m changing that. I’d love you to see it.
