#and he was right like i cant even defend gansey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

happikattwuzheere · 4 years

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was gonna try and do multiple characters in one post but nope! i have too much to say. also the pictures are all different sizes so its rly hard to get the photoset to look appealing, so we’re starting w/ blue. and also a colored pic of what adam looks like when he’s not a deer. boy’s tryin not to stand out. which goes great up for him right up until it doesn’t. lmao. i’ll talk a bit about him too w/ stuff that didnt get mentioned in the starter post about him and gansey, but this is mostly gonna be about blue.

SO.

there’s this fey entity, right? i don’t have a name for them, but they’re not...they didnt START the fey/human conflict, but they are benefiting from it, politically speaking? and when maura was younger, despite other witches being like “girl dont choose sides, we’re witches, we guard boundaries but we don’t choose sides,” was hotheaded and brash and went “ok but fuck that though” and one thing led to another and she ended up getting a curse on her firstborn. Oops. that’s where the kissing curse comes from, here; i’ll get into that much later in a text post probably but gansey’s survivor’s guilt thing doesnt come from him actually dying in this au it’s from something Else, but blue will still kill him if she kisses him, just, for different reasons, it’s an actual curse this time and not something to do with the nature of who they both are.

her father’s still a tree light, but like, she actually knows that from the outset? because. they live in cabeswater. the tree lights are all around and accept her as one of their own even if she can’t turn into a tree, and as a result of that, she’s got some cool perks.

a) extremely resistant and/or outright immune to a Lot of fey bullshit

b) still boosts psychic energies and magical powers like in canon

c) the absolute safest person to be traveling in cabeswater ever, because the forest itself loves her, and also if you mess with her within the borders of cabeswater a bunch of tree lights will physically manifest and be like “hey buddy wanna think twice about that”

but she can’t use magic herself, still, which actually works in the favor of herself and the coven--witchcraft is in a sort of weird spot, culturally, where it’s both feared and often hated, but also understood to at times be necessary, especially by rural peoples like those of the village. im taking a very discworld spin on the witchcraft, because i love discworld and you can’t stop me, and so the attitude is, like. its frightening ancient magic and the church hates it but when there’s an emergency and someone’s on the border between life and death, or something is trying to pass into this world from another, etc etc etc, then you gotta suck it up and call on a witch because they’re the only ones who can deal with those things. so. the coven is tolerated, both because it’s too big and powerful to actually fight but also because it’s extremely needed when you live in a village right next door to fey lands. you NEED someone watching the border. however that doesn’t mean anyone wants to be seen publicly talking to a witch--but blue’s not a witch. she’s a witch’s daughter, but she’s not a witch herself, which is a step removed enough that she can go into town and run errands and also people will maybe pull her discretely aside and tell her if something’s coming up that the coven should know about, and it all works very neatly with her acting as a sort of liaison. very important role she plays, which is why gansey tries talking to her after his initial attempt to speak with the coven directly fails.

speaking of the coven itself: i’ve been calling it the fox way coven, even tho it probably wouldn’t be called that because there’s no road called fox way that the coven is built on, it’s a big magic house out in the fairy forest, BUT they do have a fox theme because i love foxes and this is a gift i have been given. if people have familiars in this coven, they’re foxes rather than cats, because as wonderful as cats are u cant have them and foxes in the same house that will go bad. but also there’s a v small number of them, like maybe three or four total out of the much higher number of women living there, who are fey blooded like adam, but who become foxes rather than adam’s deer. persephone is one of these! (it’s worth noting the reason why they become the same animal is because of a combination of coincidence, intentional theming, and mostly just because like, virtually all of the residents there aside from persephone are related to either maura or calla)

anyway the point is, because of this, blue’d seen enough feyblood transformations that when, one day when she was 9 or 10, on a visit to town, she saw the most distressed, disoriented fawn wobbling around frantically and was able to very quickly recognize that that was, in fact, a person who had probably turned into a deer for the first time, and responded by very calmly informing him that she knew who could help and leading him home. this is where those last two pictures come from, and how adam’s apprenticeship started.

like, there was a lot of arguing from the witches immediately--of course we’re going to teach him how to become human again but we aren’t really going to take him on in the coven are we? he’s a boy, he’s some local kid we know nothing about, what happened to keeping it in the family, he’s the wrong animal and we’ve got a whole thing going on--at which point persephone parted everyone like the red sea, took one look at adam, went “mine now” and despite a lot of grumbling that was the end of it. she took him on a bit of a tour of cabeswater a few days later, after he’d had time to think it over, and he felt so drawn to the forest that he agreed to the apprenticeship.

so he’s technically persephone’s apprentice but like in actual practice he’s being taught by the entire coven lmao, ANYWAY

adam being adam also had a backup plan for trying to get out of the village--even at ten he figured witchcraft might be a first way out of there, he was already thinking about it, but by thirteen when the good ole abuse started (and at which point the last whispers of dissent died out very quickly amongst the coven, nope, adam is one of us now, do you want us to very threateningly hang out in your front yard sometime because we can do that--what do you mean no, let us do this,) he was also like. i dont think this is a guarantee of getting out of here i need a second job. and the thing is, as was mentioned in the original post, the fey blood also means adam’s got issues with iron; it’ll poison him if he’s stabbed with it but it also reacts to his skin touching it like a hot stove. he’s fine if there’s a layer between his skin and the iron, but if he touches it directly, it’s Bad. so ofc this headstrong idiot takes an open spot a t a metalworker’s in the village because adam is the king of making bad decisions. the witches have a betting pool on how long it’ll take him to out himself. “its fine i’ll wear gloves,” he says. “it’s the perfect disguise no one will expect someone with fey connections to work near so much iron,” he says. “i have everything perfectly under control,” he says.

anyway he totally forgets to wear gloves before grabbing an iron tool while his dad and his boss are both in the store and in clear view of him and that’s why he was getting chased by hunters when gansey rescued him

also he and blue tried dating when they were like 13-14 and it ended about as badly as in canon and they made up later and by the time the story starts they’ve settled into very much being weird siblings. adam starts hanging out with gansey initially to try and basically spy on him, figure out why he’s here, but ends up rly liking the guy and deciding his reasons are sincerely to try and help people, and he tells this to blue who starts immediately accusing him of having a crush on the lordling and being a class traitor, because she does NOT like gansey at this point and really the nobility all prefer wizards to witches which is a stupid idiot decision and frankly the fact that this lordling is apparently enamored by some random deer is hilarious to her, but even moreso is the fact that adam actually defends the lordling to her, like, “wow adam its hilarious that the lordling’s friend thinks that you have charmed the lordling because from my perspective it looks the other way around” “shut uuuup you’re not listening im serious, like, yeah ok he put his foot in his mouth really hard when he talked to you but im telling you i dont think the whole i-wanna-understand thing is an act” “idk if i can trust you through those rose tinted glasses buddy. tell me again about that time he called you princely?” “oh my god”

this is turning into rambling but. thats the gist of the witches and blue esp thank u for coming if u made it this far here’s a bonus persephone fox

#trc #the raven cycle #blue sargent #deer boy au #longpost #VERY long im so sorry.

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ravenvsfox · 7 years

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Part two of my trc/tfc crossover extravaganza as requested by about 16 humans, this is going to be a trio, so wait for chapter 3 buddds

There’s a knock on the door two seconds before Ronan slits through the doorway shoulder first. Adam feels like the contents of a cardboard box, sliced and opened.

“I fucking hate this,” Ronan says, his whole presence bunched at the entrance, coiled. “Why do I feel like they have more secrets than we do?”

Adam shuffles his feet so he’s contained to one cushion, and Ronan sits down instantly, close enough that his waves eat Adam’s ripples.

“You wanted this.”

“I wanted to play exy.”

“You wanted all of us with you,” Adam adds. “You wanted to not be the most difficult person on a team. You wanted college to be easy and the games to be hard.”

Ronan looks at him closely, then kicks backward onto the couch, head on the far armrest, legs pushing at Adam’s so that they have to occupy some of the same space.

“I don’t need another gang of thugs to tell me what I have to be.”

“Kavinsky’s crew was—“

“I’m not talking about him,” Ronan says viciously. Adam eyes him, then looks at their legs, at Ronan’s hand, lax near his thigh.

“I think,” Adam says slowly, “that it’s too soon to tell.”

Ronan’s eyes are slitted blue when Adam looks down, peering past his own knees to meet his gaze.

“Yeah okay, diplomat. Tell me what you really think.”

Adam rolls his head back, flexing his hands to hear them crack, thinking of the way Neil and Andrew paired off and put their heads together, dark and light, speaking with gestures first, silences second, words last.

“I think that we’re trying to put two plugs together, and we don’t have any sockets.”

“Pretty,” Ronan snarks. Adam ignores him.

“They don’t trust us.”

“I don’t trust them,” Ronan replies easily, and takes Adam’s hand so he’ll stop cracking and wringing.

“I don’t think any of us would qualify for the foxes if we were—“

“Trustworthy?”

“Easy to understand,” Adam continues. “I’ve watched the tapes, Ronan. They’re still fractured at the best of times.”

“We’re stronger,” Ronan says quietly, playing with Adam’s fingers.

“We’re good together,” Adam agrees, and Ronan pulls him down on top of him. Adam falls, and enjoys the falling quite a lot, the way Ronan’s mouth changes when he’s close. “We haven’t always been.”

“That’s Gansey’s fault. He doesn’t know how to introduce people.”

“Meanwhile you made a great case for yourself,” Adam says sarcastically, grinning when Ronan does. “So personable.”

“Hey,” Ronan says, cupping Adam’s face with both hands and squeezing. “You wanna go see what we can do on this shit campus?”

“I want to get ahead on my readings, actually. My grades have to be better than my status, because PSU has zero prestige.”

Ronan rolls him into the back of the couch and kisses him fast, rubs a thumb over the sting on Adam’s lips. “No, you want to break into the court.”

“We have the keys.”

“You want to legally enter the court,” Ronan amends, pinching Adam’s side so that his ribcage cants up.

“Yeah,” Adam says after a moment. He thinks about the burnished wood of the court and the killing heft of a racquet. He pictures Ronan and Gansey next to him, crowing victory, the sweat and rush and pitch of the finite game, the deadline he can see and count on. Exy decks him and he hits back.

“Good,” Ronan says. “I want to put a dent in their fucking foxhole.”

_____

The lights are on when they get to the court at midnight, and Ronan lets the door fall closed hard behind them. There’s no movement, just miles of clean hallway and the hollow, lived-in feeling of a place that should be full.

They exchange looks, and walk steadily towards the heart of the building. They gear up quickly in the chill of the changing rooms, laughing at each other in their fiery oranges. Ronan musses the bandana from Adam’s hair.

They poke their way towards the court, and when they’re close enough, the screech and hammer of activity haunts the hallway.

“My bet’s on Day. He looks like he doesn’t sleep,” Ronan says, kicking the door open and catching it before it can swing back.

“That’s a pretty ironic insult, coming from you,” Adam says pointedly, and Ronan grumbles something about involuntary insomnia, but they’re already spilling out into the central court.

He regrets making it this far. He feels so blatantly redundant, a meal that’s mistakenly been delivered to a table of people who’ve already eaten.

It is Day, but it’s also Minyard and Josten, running drills as seriously as they seem to do everything, full gear, full focus. Adam can taste the sweat in the air from outside the plexiglass that swallows the action.

“Fuck,” Ronan says.

“So much for that,” Adam says, drooping and trying to pin himself back up.

Ronan, of course, strides forward and opens the door anyway. Kevin perks up first, holding out a hand to halt the action that Andrew ignores and Neil stares at.

“Did you come to practice?”

“Well we didn’t come to bask in your mediocrity, did we?” Ronan says, and Adam sighs. He has the unsettled feeling that Ronan sincerely enjoys this room full of abrasive personalities. Poison doesn’t pose a threat to more poison. Adam worries for Ronan’s thin armour though, the weak points that grow every day.

“That would imply that you even know what proper exy looks like, which I doubt,” Neil calls.

Adam grabs for Ronan, but he slips from his hands. He looks miles taller than Neil by the time he reaches him, but somehow narrowly less threatening. Andrew bristles and hefts his racquet up, and Adam sees black.

“Can we play?” Adam asks quickly, sifting panic out of his voice. “We want to get ahead.”

“We’re already ahead,” Ronan spits, looking down into Neil’s steady eyes. His scars preserve his intimidation like plastic wrap, but Ronan is one big scar: painful to look at, more painful to have.

“Good,” Kevin says. “Ronan and Neil can play against me. Adam, get in their goal, Andrew in mine.”

Ronan and Neil squint at each other. Adam bristles at being ordered around; Kevin’s authority grates in a way that Gansey’s only sometimes does. It’s strange, watching everyone line themselves up and sink into their roles like they were already wading into water and just found that they couldn’t reach the bottom with their toes anymore.

Ronan and Neil fall into twin positions. Adam stares at Andrew’s apathetic racquet twirling and thinks Okay. Yes. He can read the mislead in Andrew’s stance, the power in his arms. He can understand Andrew’s faulty concentration, the broken pipe connecting him to Neil.

“Try not to prove Neil right,” Kevin yells, and Andrew hammers the ball all the way downcourt. The rush is instant for Adam, ropes and ropes of adrenaline in front of him, and it all moves so fast that Palmetto and Henrietta and Cabeswater are blurred landmarks outside of his car window.

Neil’s tricky, slippery fast, never trusting Ronan with the ball, goading him back and forth. Kevin has ambidextrous power all the way up his arms and legs, he’s a tank that also did all of his calculations. Andrew is immovable, and unmistakably natural.

Ronan is gorgeous when he plays -- sleek as a BMW, cruel as a hockey player, and he always has more to prove than anyone on court. He steals the ball from his own teammate and makes it look like an act of mercy. He’s the lightning strike and the thunder and the rain all at once.

Adam’s track record is impeccable, but he knows that Andrew is better. Adam pitches a ball at Neil’s legs and Andrew twitches for long enough that Ronan can scoop the ball and slide it home in the corner of Andrew’s goal.

It’s the only goal he sinks. Neil manages one half an hour later, but the opposite side of the court with its two players feels like a concrete wall they’re bouncing practice balls off of.

The way Andrew plays is monstrous, and Adam fights humiliation as he always does, saving face with all of his thin, patchy energy, and his vein-deep desire to win.

Kevin gets four shots past him, all told, making Adam’s failure rate double Andrew’s.

Adam throws his racquet down, regrets it, and feels shame join exhaustion on his face. He senses Andrew watching him from across the court, and the feeling scuttles under his skin. Ronan jogs up to him with some unfathomable remaining energy stores, and waits for him to take off his helmet. He doesn’t try to help him or touch him or comfort him.

“We held our own,” he says eventually. “They beat the best team in the world last spring, and we held our fucking own.”

Adam nods, too overwhelmed to respond.

“What happened to you being ahead?” Neil wanders up to ask, and Ronan breathes out, turns around, and punches him clean across the face.

He stands over him after, looking vengeful and strong, and says, “You lost too.”

Blood pumps, their breathing huffs and trips, runners thud closer, and then Andrew delivers a right hook so brutal that anyone else might have been knocked out. Ronan sprawls, but rolls into a crouch almost immediately, looking thunderstruck. It reminds Adam of his brawls with Declan, the bloody mouth with the devastation behind it.

It’s horrifying, seeing it surface so quickly, blood welling up even after you’ve cleaned the wound.

“Hey,” Adam says viciously, putting himself between Andrew and Ronan.

“Hey,” Andrew replies, looking past him to Ronan. “Do not touch him again.”

“Same to you,” Adam says, trying to get maneuver so that Andrew has to meet his eye.

“I’m shocked that you can speak,” Ronan says, staggering upright, purposefully not checking for damage in his face or hand.

“I’m shocked that you can stand,” Andrew tells him. “Now tell me if you heard me.”

“I heard you. You’re blindly defending your boyfriend when he’s trying to start shit.”

“Is that not what you’re doing?” Andrew asks evenly. When Ronan hesitates he continues, “you lied. Neil called your bluff, you lost your temper. Do you feel like more of a winner now?”

“I don’t lie,” Ronan grits, and Andrew cocks his head at him. He looks mildly surprised by the concept.

“Let’s just change out and go home,” Adam murmurs, temples throbbing. “This isn’t productive.”

“The practice was decent,” Kevin announces. “But the summer made you slow.”

“Insult to injury,” Adam says under his breath, and Andrew looks piercingly in his direction again. Adam doesn’t look away. He’s heard the rumours, read the articles, but he’s not unsettled by them. He’s familiar with the way fear can look so convincingly like anger — there’s no reason it can’t look like apathy too.

“You’re not ready to be a team,” Neil says.

“That’s some bullshit, coming from you,” Ronan says, thick through the blood muddying his lips.

“We take care of foxes, not any asshole who steps on the court. Ae you ready to make an effort? Let any of that glittering narcissism go? Because until you do, I keep critiquing you, and you keep losing that paper-thin temper of yours.”

“We’re serious about this,” Adam says. “We wouldn’t have come here as a unit if we weren’t used to teamwork and sacrifice.”

“You’re a long way from home,” Andrew says. “Teams break.”

“I’m not,” Adam says, instinctive and bitter. “And we won’t.”

Andrew’s eyes are darkly intense, and they stick all over Adam’s face, his ear, his sweaty hair.

“You’re coming to Columbia this weekend, both of you.” His gaze slides to Ronan. Adam feels sickly, like he wants to peel his eyes off of him.

“There’s a club,” Neil explains, watching Andrew closely, his face a flip-book of reactions to the tiniest gestures.

“Was that an invitation?”

Andrew considers. “It’s not optional.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan says.

Adam says, “We’ll go,” without getting all the way through his furious mental gymnastics routine. He’s curious enough about the foxes that he’s willing to disguise himself as one. Another city, another costume, another scholarship, another sacrifice.

Andrew doesn’t react, just walks away with Neil a pace in front of him. It’s like they’re both listening to the same strange set of headphones, and no one else knows what’s feeding into that connection all day.

Ronan tugs Adam by his single, neat leather wristband, tucked secretly underneath his gloves, and Adam considers that they might have the same thing.

Part One Part Three

#a real live fic golly and also goodness #aftg #trc #pynch #andreil #tfc fanfic #the foxhole court #the raven cycle #prompt #mine #im sorry i made you wait so long and this is like 2000 words of filler

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