* ✰ force of nature @camillebellamyxo-blog - Tumblr Blog

Dear Sam,

It’s been a long time. A lot has changed. And you must know by now that I didn’t stay away from you or Tommy because of any life affirming pact we made on the grounds of Whittemore one day... because we both know that I loved fire, and misery and pain. Almost as much as I loved you. Both of you.

You have me so many things that make sense to me now more than they did then. I was a wild fire and you were a member of the fire brigade who wasn’t afraid to walk into the flames. I was a wolf, but you weren’t just sheep. I had fangs and so did you. All the tears I cried as an innocent book worm were nothing in comparison to all the lava I spewed as an angry erupting volcano. I still don’t understand. I’m still terrified, of all the rage that was inside of me and all of the horrible things I still know I’m capable of. I wake up in the middle of the night and still think I can hear those voices echoing around in there, that I can still hear my fathers whispers and the saddest part is... sometimes that’s comforting. The only piece of him that I’ll always get to keep because it was only after he died and time passed that I got to know that he wasn’t evil. He wasn’t Frankenstein and I was never meant to be his monster.

You found the sharp edges of me that I was trying to cut you with and you put them back together. I still don’t know if that was just because you were used to sharp things. After all these years I still think that Hazel was the sharpest thing you touched. Like I told you once then, I only wanted to love you. Maybe she did too.

I know that you didn’t expect to hear from me again, I guess I became everything you wanted me not to... another person that wasn’t honest with you.

As unconditional as my love for you, and tommy, in whatever weird way that’s possible, was. I found something that I loved even more. I found something that I could never risk, that I would do anything for and I may have been completely out of my mind but I found a way to get out back into the one I had before. I made a deal to try and change my life.

I don’t really know how to say this... my heart breaks every day. I almost forgot what a fragile broken person I was before and it’s pathetic because this letter is another way for me to avoid seeing you and hurting you or hurting myself. You put those shards back together and then I obliterated them and became a person you didn’t fall in love with. This version of me is just Camille. Not the dangerous thing I was before, but I haven’t told you why yet, Sam. Please don’t read this and hate me. I’m sorry it’s five years too late.

I have a son. And in whatever bizarre way that anything in my life is possible, in whatever way it became possible that I was born out of a test tube, thin air and a bunch of crazy components. Our son was born. No test tubes involved. I don’t know if he’s yours, if he’s Tommy’s, if he’s just mine, but he exists, and he is beautiful. I wanted you to know that.

Between the three of us he has to have a chance, right? I did everything I could, moved the earth, lost all the talents I had before to be a mother. Even when I was insane I knew that this was the only thing I could guarantee in love... that I’d never want to make the same mistakes all our parents did. Between your bad blood, mine being the promising cure and Tommy’s altered DNA, maybe he’s as perfect as I think. Maybe he’s going to be okay. Maybe he was worth all the versions of me that I killed, because I look at him every single day and I’m so thankful. And if one day it turns out that he’s a little bit bad, a little bit wrong, that he becomes my sharp thing... I won’t let go. Like I would for you, my father, Tommy, I’ll keep cutting myself over and over again for him.

I hope you understand.

Love,

Camille.

#ill format this if im ever not mobile again #sam

scriptios

And I still mourn the person I could’ve been; that gullible child that never grew quite right.

does anyone know where unrealized versions of yourself go once they’ve been killed? (✯)

thefreddiej:

Her reaction wasn’t exactly what he was counting on, his eyebrows pulling together when she grabbed him, asking one simple and slightly disturbing question. Ruby. Nathan. Trevor. Gina. He would do anything for their happiness, wouldn’t he? He would do anything to keep them safe. Even if it was selfish. Even if it was wrong. He thought about his best friend and the different outcome that he could have had, the way his future could have gone, and all of his hesitation fell away. “Yes,” he admitted. “But I don’t think we get that option.”

“Well,” the statement fell surprisingly flat on the air, a singular word that couldn’t at all summarise the hysterical thoughts ravishing Camille’s mind with each growing second. Perhaps in a distant past/future/alternate universe she had been able to control her thirst for destruction but in this one the battle had only just truly began. Her gaze drifted away, “I have the choice. And I’m letting the world burn.”

#c: freddie

samfawkes-deactivated20240515

It was unusual, though, he had seen it happen before. But if anyone asked, Sam would never say out loud that Sean and him shared some similarities. It gave a new meaning to a phrase he grew familiar with in the years after Whittemore burned down once again — looking into the mirror and seeing someone else. Though, given Sean’s experience, his friends (could he still call them that?) would know it wasn’t his real face. Maybe, it was God’s mercy. Not that he ever actually believed in God, not counting the time when the existence of an almighty power would have been convenient. But at least, they didn’t have to look at the pathetic piece of shit he became anymore.

Most of what Whittemore’s history handed to them were malicious and only caused them pain. but Sam could see that more than anything, they were now given a chance to rewrite history — to play the game of choices for a second time and this time, WIN. Charles, Daisy, Trevor, his parents, they could all be saved. However, he could just walk away, too. And for days, Sam contemplated doing so but he could never just walk away from years and years of pain unless he cut the tendrils they dug into his skin and cut them off himself. Otherwise, they would always remain within him and carry them as long as he lived in this new beginning.

“So first thing’s first, we save Charles,” he spoke with absolute conviction, gaze focused on the first person he saw. He didn’t really have a plan per se, but the intention should be well enough to spark something up in others. “And don’t let anyone near my car. I’m not going to watch it burn again because of some dare.”

camillebellamyxo-blog

There was a plan. It wasn’t one that was organised or certain, it was a frenzy of thoughts and feelings, a barricade of insanity that almost tied itself into making sense from the sheer complexity of everything else. Camille couldn’t colour inside the lines, she couldn’t hold a pen for more than a second, her focus too sharp. Like a wild animal her gaze darted around but she had yet to find what she was looking for here. In fact, as the days passed she was becoming more and more agitated that things were not going her way.

The person before her drew her from her thoughts and her green eyes snapped wide open as she looked into an unfamiliar face. She neither cared nor wanted to know anything besides what she needed to be successful here, to keep things as they once were and make sure that the entire world didn’t have to burn beneath her angry plight, “Who cares about...” Charles. Something caused her to stop, her focus on the person in front of her now wavering, scanning him as if her eyes might burn through him because his next words caused a sharp memory of a burning car to set alight in her minds eye and her realisation set a new fire altogether, her red hair blowing slightly in the wind, expression unreadable besides a hint of sullen and strange disappointment, “Sam?”

#c: sam

sophiekillerqueen:

Sophie had met a lot of muscular burly killers in her lifetime. Seeing a young adult woman with a smiley expression and the desire for murder and senseless death was perhaps worse than any of the highly qualified contract killers that Sophie had known, worked against or worked with. It reminded her of the girls from The Shining. “I don’t think you have to worry about chaos abandoning us. It magnetizes to this place.”

Camille momentarily noted that she did not really recall Sophie. Then again, she had paid little attention to anyone the first time around that she did not think was plotting against her. This time she had resolved that she would have to attempt to engage in order to keep people on her side, it was simply a shame that Camille’s idea of engaging was enough to terrify most sane and rational people, “Sometimes chaos is good,” she suggested, the smile almost slipping from her lips but her eyes full of some bizarre hope, “Sometimes you just have to find out which chaos you need and make sure you get it.”

#c: sophie

lifeinpoetry

I don’t want to set things on fire anymore. / That’s all. That’s all.

Darshana Suresh, from “Birds on a Power Line,” Howling at the Moon (via wildfairy)

sophiekillerqueen:

Sophie nodded slowly, unsure of exactly what Camille could mean by that. She took back she’d said only moments before. “Things always happen whether we mean for them to or not. So, chances are: you won’t need to do the dirty work yourself. Unless, of course, you want the dirty work.”

"I don’t.” She did. Camille craved nothing more than chaos. Chaos like her beautiful but completely messed up head. Chaos like before. She had one thread of hope, one thing to cling onto in this world and as she tilted her head to the side, “I just want things to be like they were before, for all of us,” she eerily repeated like a script.

#c: sophie

icarusavery-deactivated20190303

Tyler could still remember the last thing he had been doing before he had woken up; sitting on his office chair, working. He had kids to worry about, a city to protect, but nothing seemed to matter anymore. Eyes closing as he thought of everything that had happened, all the things that he could change. “Fuck this place,” he whispered.

camillebellamyxo-blog

She could not remember the specifics of the last moment before she had awoken, brain torn clean into a billion shitty pieces as it once had been. All her hard work. All that pain. All worthless. The fire that flickered inside of her was burning and her only focus was on keeping the life she had gone on to lead despite any and all consequences, “You should leave. Technically you never had to be here.” While the words were blunt and may have seemed rude, for Camille it was a quite considerate thought.

#c: tyler

sophiekillerqueen:

Sophie got here too late in the last timeline to really experience anything that everyone was rambling about, namely Sean. She kind of understood where Camille was coming from. Somewhere, she was waiting around idly killing and waiting for her phone to ring and Sean to answer. Here, she arrived on the scene ready to demand answers from him ahead of time. “Watch as nothing happens. The one time we’re here to witness the fuckery, it just doesn’t happen.”

It would not have mattered who was in front of her or if they cared what she was saying, Camille was unaware of anything amiss. “Trust me, something will happen, even if I have to make it,” the glint in her eye spelled out how this was not just words but instead a promise. She would not rest until she fulfilled everything that she needed to, her brain laced with electricity that put that blue light to shame in her mind.

#c: sophie

thefreddiej:

Freddie was struggling to figure out what had happened and what hadn’t, the lines to reality and fiction blurred all over again. He knew things he shouldn’t know, that hadn’t happened, that never did, and he liked to believe it was his imagination getting away from him but he knew that it was more than that. He felt like he was dreaming but he couldn’t wake up. He already had. “Right,” he chuckled halfheartedly. “Let’s hope there’s none of that.” But this was Whittemore, and there was always action, unwanted or not. Even the most optimistic person couldn’t deny that. “A peaceful reunion would be nice.”

"You’re gentle.” As if that was a point that correlated with his own statement she took a step closer, uninvited she was leering dangerously close to being in his personal space. Her arms extended, hands grasping his shoulders with such focus that it seemed like she was afraid she would break him into a million pieces with the mutant strength she had had no trouble controlling in another lifetime where things had been fixed, “Have you ever loved something so much that you would do anything to protect it? So much that you’d let the entire world burn to make sure this one thing is perfect.”

#c: freddie

jonahcricks:

“I’d appreciate that,” he said, a small smile crossing his features. “Though the files don’t really mean much anymore, so if you do feel the need to ignite a spark somewhere then,” he gestured towards the desk that was filled with books and boxes alike, “Go for it.” It was surprising to see Camille at his door. Not for the fact that they weren’t close. No it wasn’t that at all. He just didn’t recall her being at the first reunion. Maybe her being there was a sign. Maybe things could change for the better this time. An image of a former life came to mind and he sat up abruptly. “SALT!” he yelled animatedly, his arms flying in the air. “Not the condiment of course, but the person, the… us. Salt and Pepa! You remember right? I didn’t dream that?”

Her mind was racing far too much to focus on what seemed like a pointless tangent into a life that didn’t even belong to her. She had enjoyed her life as a rap star to the extent that she was capable but a certain bitterness lingered in her heart -- she had been enslaved so many times she didn’t know if perhaps she was meant to be caged forever. “I remember, Jonah,” her words were surprisingly cold and concise as she walked over, taking his papers and flinging them into the bin, sheets falling aimlessly to the ground, the heel of her boot piercing a piece of paper violently, a small grin on her lips. “I need you to help me because we’re friends,” her fingers twitched with determination that may have tasted like fear to most. Camille had long since lost the ability to rationally try and help herself and as she sat down, the pen in her fingertips was almost snapped in half, “I need you to tell me everything that happens here up until I arrive and then I need you to help me keep it exactly the same.”

#c: jonah

jonahcricks

Jonah sighed, his head resting against the wall of the familiar surrounds of his high school boarding room. It had been a strange few days to say the least. Time travel was not something he was unaccustomed to, but this was something else entirely. It was a strange taste of déjà vu. Like he was an actor in a film, knowing fully well the outcome, but altering the script. Jonah had spent hours scrolling through the case files that he and Thomas French had accumulated over what felt like that year. “I won’t be needing these i suppose,” he said, throwing his phone beside him.

camillebellamyxo-blog

If anything her legs felt stronger than they ever had before, or rather, than they had recently. All her responsibilities had been erased and rationally a hole was torn delicately in her heart, an empty ache for a life that she had loved but found it impossible to relate to now she was stripped bare of her natural instincts. “Don’t worry,” she soothed, stepping inside and leaning against the dry wall she had not seen in years, “I won’t set your room on fire this time.”

#c: jonah

kittyvalance:

“In time for the action?” the blonde found herself repeating, still racking her brain and sifting through the memories she still had of this time. “This is wrong…” she uttered more to herself than anything, hands tugging lightly at her locks as if it’d help her understand why they were meant to be here again. They’d crossed the line and gambled enough with time as it was. “It’s the same, but this — you’re different. I mean you weren’t here before…not yet, were you? That’s what you meant?”

"One second I was fine and the next here I was,” Camille explained, an edge of bitterness to her tone. She had not seen them again at the reunion but the voices in her head had been erased by a greater force and for the first time in so long she had been given peace. All of that had been torn away from her, like a dagger into the part of her head that made sense of everything, her thoughts leaped from one dangerous thing to another uncontrollably. “I got out early and I even let my lovely Father alive, chained up where he can’t bother me,” she explained, clearly believing she was going him a grand favour if there ever was one.

#c: kitty

Frankly quite unaware of how unnerving this entire situation may or may not have been, Camille had many questions that were aimed at nobody in particular as she threw her duffel bag to one side. On an alternate timeline right now she was chained up in her Father’s lovely test centre but on this one she had arrived before the spilling of blood and guts -- something that she was surprisingly pleased about. After all, she had always just wanted to be involved. Eyes alarmingly wide and splintered green as she stepped towards the first target she saw, “I finally got here in time for the action.”