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manicpixiefelix · 2 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 17.

Summary: Learning little things, and big things, on these summer days. About each other, and how the world sees you all, in the garden, in the family room, in hindsight, in the study late at night.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: reader, felix, venetia, and oliver getting high in the garden together, some degrading language (kind of a given any time venetia and reader are in the same room at this point), heavy discussion about the reader's parental trauma/neglect

A/N: 5812 words. i think i cast venetia in a bad light sometimes which i feel bad about because i love her to pieces, and she and the reader love each other very much its just that she's gotten used to being arguably too verbally prickly with them in order to rile her brother up mostly, and she forgets (and maybe i do too) what that looks like from the outside. anyways, just for absolutely no reason whatsoever, have you ever looked up what different flowers mean in flower language? much to think about.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Venetia rolls her joints with little hearts at the end where the filter would go if it were simply a cigarette. It's a trick she learned during what she calls her 'gap year', what Elspeth calls her 'grand wine tour of Europe', and what Felix and Farleigh have recently started cruelly referring to as 'the year Venetia inspired a TV show'. While you do think it's mean, you also quietly agree that Billie Piper bares a striking resemblance to the young Catton woman in the ads you'd seen for Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Cruel implications is all you would say on the matter, not that either of the boys had been game enough to say it to her face.

But the thought floats through your mind in this moment, taking just a moment to admire the way she's expertly curled the paper before you bring it to your lips. She watches you with that smile that tends to intimidate others, sharp and mean and hungry, sharp gaze on your lips as you inhale, lips remaining sealed as you offer the next hit to Felix on your right. Venetia's focus follows the joint, straying from you to admire the way her brother takes a hit before he too passes it on to Oliver.

Felix muses to no-one in particular about how long it's been since he'd been out here to the Fairy Ring Garden, but only gets a response from Oliver, and a strained one at that as your guest holds smoke in his lungs as long as he's able, muttering that it's beautiful. Sitting on the grass in the morning sun, you squint at the iPod in your hands, trying to choose some music.

Venetia suggests Amy Winehouse. Felix calls his sister tragic under his breath, to which she flips him off. Still, it's the best suggestion you've got so far, so moments later, the singer's rich vocals warble out of the little, portable speaker you'd plugged into the headphone port.

"Good dog," Venetia says with a particularly mean sneer in her brother's direction as she takes the iPod out of your hands to place it on the grass, replacing it with the joint you'd all been passing around once more. Out of instinct, you place your free hand on Felix's chest, telling him that whatever reaction he was going to have really wasn't worth it. Venetia rolls her eyes, "boo, you whore," she snarks, laying back on the grass.

"I'm taking the rest of this as compensation for emotional damages," you hold the joint between two fingers, telling Felix to just roll another from the kit still sitting in the middle of the impromptu circle the four of you had made. Much to both yours and Felix's surprise, Oliver moves too quickly to let him, rolling with the air of someone who'd seen it done often without having done it himself.

Both you and Felix watch him for quite a while as he stumbles through the task like a baby deer taking it's first steps. Things are getting fuzzy and warm around the edges already, and you're caught up in watching the way Oliver's hands work.

"Why 'd you put up with her?" Oliver asks bluntly, frowning at his work. Venetia's indignant 'hey' goes otherwise ignored by the three of you and it takes a long moment for Felix to respond.

"She's my sister?" But in his confusion it sounds more like a question, talking about Venetia like she's not even there. But Oliver stops, and finally looks at him; he offers a rather sad looking, clearly unfinished joint, not as an offering but as a silent request for help. Felix takes it and tries not to look too endeared by Oliver's failed attempt as he fixes it.

"Not you, Felix," Oliver, after a moment, looks away from Felix, right to you, eyes wide and earnest as he watches you take a long draft of your own joint, now burned well down. His gaze makes his intentions clear, but still he offers, "she's mean to you too." Too, like he'd pointed out about Farleigh all those months ago.

"They like it," Venetia scoffs at the sky dismissively, but Oliver refuses to acknowledge her, even if Felix takes a moment to scowl at his sister and her constant, casual degradation of you. But a slow, amused smile spreads across your lips in the moments that follow, you can't help it.

"I love that you worry about me, Ollie," you sigh almost dreamily. Clearly not expecting that, you have the pleasure of watching Oliver blush with surprise, "you're so fucking pretty, Ollie," you add, though you're pretty sure you couldn't have stopped yourself from saying that out loud if you tried. He blushes harder, while Felix and Venetia both try and stifle their giggles; you take another hit, tilting your head just a little as you look at him, analysing him. Finally, when you ask his favourite flower out of seemingly nowhere, Oliver seems like he can't function under your gaze like this, and chooses to lay back in the grass, mirroring Venetia.

"Darling, you're such a lightweight," Felix snorts, speaking from the corner of his mouth as he holds the rerolled joint between his lips as if intending to light it. Before he can flick the lighter on, however, you take his chin gently in hand, guiding him to you, pressing the still-glowing end of your own joint to his unlit one for several long seconds, until his caught successfully.

When you and Felix join your companions in laying back on the grass, you do so together. His arm is around you, coaxing you to lay with your head on his chest, beside him under this perfectly blue sky.

"Why would you want to know something like that?" Oliver's voice reminds you he's there only moments later.

"Because their robot brain needs to know everything about everyone at all times," at least Venetia sounds fond when she chimes in, even if her words aren't exactly the most complimentary.

"You're lucky you're pretty, Vee," Felix cuts in with a casually cruel tone; you can feel the way he twitches with irritation, "because you have so few other redeeming features."

"I am pretty," Venetia agrees airily, pointedly ignoring his insult, "you're such a darling brother, Felix," she adds with painfully sarcastic faux-sweetness. Felix's only response was to sigh with incredibly loud disappointment, while you tried to stifle your giggling, caught up in the sensation of him tracing abstract patterns up and down your arms, and the idea that you could count on the ever-relaxed Felix Catton to always come to your defence. Had this been the case for years? Over a decade? Yes. Would it always make you a little bit giddy to think about? Almost definitely.

"And it's not like I'm wrong," Venetia finally broached the silence once more, "as if they don't already know our favourite flowers," she points out, before making a rather insistent noise. You bark at her command, it seems - those cheerful little yellow ones on the inner ring of flowers - dismissive, but the sound of her scoff has you correcting yourself, suddenly feeling a sting of shame and not quite knowing why.

"The chrysanthemums." The other three echo the name of the flower, one right after the other, all taking turns to turn it over in their minds and mouths as you almost burn your fingers finishing off your joint. As if trying to prove yourself, you add, interrupting them all, "Fi's are forget-me-nots."

Felix seems surprised to agree, like even he'd forgotten that detail about himself, or perhaps forgotten that he'd shared it with you, while Venetia's laughter has turned fond and knowing; it's a little condescending too, like she'd expected as much from you, but you try not to dwell on it. It's Oliver's voice that you focus on, endeared as he quietly murmurs the name of the flower to himself, like he can't quite believe something as soft as Felix having a favourite flower.

"Now I'm curious, Ollie," Felix finally speaks up, and you hear the grass shift beneath his head. He must be turning to look at the man in question, "do you have a favourite flower?" He pauses for a moment, "or is this one of our weird things, like wearing cuff-links to dinner every night?" He tries to play it off, but there's those notes of self consciousness that you're surprised he often gets when talking about tradition around Saltburn.

The grass near Oliver rustles, but your comfort overrides your intrigue to watch him.

"I think it's fox... Something?" Oliver says after a moment, "my favourite flower," he clarifies, "I haven't put much thought into it," he admits. You hum thoughtfully before asking if it could be foxglove. He confirms as much before going quiet.

There's a lull that follows in which Felix asks after Farleigh's whereabouts. Farleigh should be here, your hazy mind immediately chirps, you love Farleigh! Venetia sighs, sounding incredibly put-upon to be explaining that Farleigh was in the computer room, obsessing over his ex-boyfriend's MySpace updates that he'd missed lately. The ones about the tour.

"The guy from that Broadway show?" Felix asks with vague interest.

"No, his ex-girlfriend is touring with that Broadway musical, that he knows about, that he at least pretends he doesn't care about," Venetia corrected, "the ex-boyfriend is that one from that band, the one who wrote that song about him that got nominated for that award?"

"Grammy," you supplied automatically.

"Right," Venetia barely acknowledged you, "anyways, he's on that big, American tour with all those tragic, emo bands that are a big deal, which is apparently news to our dear cousin."

"Is that the one we were all talking about getting tickets to a few months ago?" Felix asks after a moment of silence, patting you on the arm as if his words weren't enough to get your attention. You hum in confirmation.

"I think so; The Warped Tour, we were going to make a vacation of it in LA this summer," you sighed rather forlornly at how the idea never got off the ground, "it was Anabel's idea -"

"- God, she's always been such a groupie for those kinds of boy-band-types -" Felix mutters derisively under his breath as if he hadn't spent the better part of two semesters inviting her to his dorm to listen to him play guitar knowing full well she'd practically be on her knees at the very suggestion. So of course you ignored that aside to finish your explanation.

"- except she turned around and said she hated the line up, when really she didn't want to admit her passport expired and she couldn't be bothered with the paperwork for a new one -"

"Actually," Oliver chimes in, though you're not sure if he was adding to the conversation, or if he'd even been listening, "when I was a boy I got to go to this botanical garden that had all these fancy flowers usually from the rest of the world." Oh. Flowers again? Sure. "There were these ones that got flown in from Australia, and I couldn't help thinking that they weren't worth it to fly all the way over here from Australia. Too long and curly and pointy; pretty, but not the kind that..." something about the way he speaks about the experience, about the flowers, it catches in your mind; Australian, long, curly, pointy, pretty, you tried to commit to memory, "that's worth spending your time on." He clears his throat and his tone seems almost forcibly lighter, "foxgloves are prettier, wouldn't you think? Yeah..."

Silence hangs between you all for several long, pensive moments.

"What colour were they?" You ask softly.

"Foxgloves?" Oliver knows you don't mean the foxgloves. He asks anyways. Everything always for the sake of the act, the pantomime of propriety.

"No."

"Red."

There is no more that needs to be said in the moment, but later you will be grateful when the details stick through the haze of your memories. Through the quiet, Venetia mentions how she misses the purple pincushions, how sweet and strange they were, and how cruel you have been to order the gardeners to prune the flowers before they can ever bloom.

The mere mention of those purple fucking pincushion flowers sours your mood; your one regret amongst your garden, a conceit to Felix that even he wishes he could take back knowing now how much you'd end up hating them. It's been a year since a single purple pincushion has bloomed in your garden, and you've been down here at least once a day all Summer, meticulous, pruning the bulbs yourself with much malice aforethought. Part of you is so filled with fury in this moment that you consider going over and uprooting the plants by hand right now, but Felix's arm around you, Felix's chest, solid and warm beneath your head, Felix's steady heartbeat in your ear, he grounds you.

For now you must simply remain content knowing that none of Eddie's precious, purple pincushions will ever bloom upon the grounds of the Saltburn Estate again.

"Venetia," expression pinched, you address her with far more coldness than you think you've ever directed towards her before, "shut up."

You don't remember when exactly during the day you asked Duncan to fetch you all the botany-related books in the house that made mention of plants native to the Asia-Pacific region. Knowing yourself, and knowing Duncan, however, you're not surprised by the small, neat stack you find the following evening on your desk in the lilac study.

While you fully intended on continuing your trend of wearing something provocative and continuing the pantomime of propriety with Oliver as the two of you had been doing each night for almost a week, Sir James raises the suggestion of a family movie night instead. Felix whines when Venetia and Farleigh champion the suggestion of a scary movie, and pouts when they bully Oliver into agreeing with them.

"Don't ask them," Farleigh groans when you're called upon for your opinion, "they're just going to say whatever Felix said but in a different voice," he rolled his eyes. You and Felix both choosing to flick little pieces of cantaloupe at him from your desserts does nothing but strengthen his argument.

Nobody thinks to ask Poor Dear Pamela her opinion, sitting at the end of the table, looking less than thrilled by the suggestion of The Ring, so everyone else decides that you and Felix are out numbered. On the way back to your rooms to change out of your dinner clothes, Oliver tries to apologise, and Felix tries to pretend that it's fine and he's just putting it on for Venetia and Farleigh and that he absolutely does not have the temperament of a rabbit when it came to anything scary. He is, of course, lying. But Oliver doesn't realise that just yet.

Venetia, always invigorated by a social triumph such as this, and never one to let a well-earned moment of joy pass her by, tucks her arm in Oliver's as the family meets back up in the living room. The moment is not missed by either you or Felix, who both glower at her bold display of affection as she ignores you and pulls Oliver onto the sofa. The large, plush armchair next to the sofa, with it's wide, low arms almost fits both you and Felix, though it's more of a token gesture than anything. No-one is surprised when he pulls you into his lap less than ten minutes after the film begins, arms around you and watching with his chin on your shoulder, ready to hide his face against your shoulder at a moment's notice.

When the film ends and the lights come back on, Venetia finally notices how you and her brother are sitting, and opens her mouth with malicious intent in her eyes.

"Watch it," you warned her before she could say any choice, disparaging remarks, "remember who's kept you off of What Not To Wear the past six years," you remind her; Felix, giving you a little squeeze, levels a smug smile at his older sister over your shoulder. Venetia closes her mouth, expression immediately turning.

"I can't believe they're still making that show," she spits, stalking from the room. Farleigh, finally getting up and stretching, follows her out at a far more relaxed pace.

"I can't believe they're still fighting Y/N to put you on it."

With those two having left, Elspeth and Pamela both give you curious looks, Elspeth asking if it was true. You confirmed as much with a blithe shrug, finally getting to your feet.

"Years ago one of the hosts was trying to track Ven down after seeing her on a red carpet and word got back to dad - or, well, his assistant at the time - and he remembered that I'm pretty close with the Cattons," you gave a humourless smile, offering Felix your hand to help him up from the sofa, which he gladly took, "however Ven was deeply offended when I asked her if she wanted to be on the show," Felix let himself chuckle at that, while Oliver was taking longer to stand, strange look on his face as he listened to you with surprisingly rapt attention.

"And they've been, what, continuing to ask after her even though she's said no?" Elspeth frowned, but you sighed, shaking your head.

"No, apparently Ven sent in a particularly rude letter despite me informing them of her refusal, and now dad's assistants seem to think I'm her agent and I get a call every time the show is threatening to add her photo to a montage of worst-dressed celebrities."

"Didn't she freak out when you refused to get an episode pulled when they actually did it?" Felix snorts, to which you rolled your eyes.

"That's why dad's assistants keep calling me, because of how she reacted to that episode."

You do feel a little bit bad for Venetia in this moment, when you see the resigned disappointment in both her parents' eyes at the story. The rest of you do finally filter out at this point, all heading back to your separate rooms. The walk is quiet for the most part, except for when Oliver, who'd been looking as though he was ruminating very hard on something, looks to you.

"Y/N, what does your dad do for work?"

You know and hate that Oliver sees the moment in which his question makes you uncomfortable, no matter how much you try to not let it, nor how desperately you try to hide it. Shrugging as you desperately shoot for casual, you sigh.

"I'm pretty sure your guess is as good as his," you say blithely, so casually evasive that Oliver doesn't really think to call you out on it before you get to your room. But after you and Felix wish him good night and head into your room, you close the door and slump against it with a heavy sigh. Felix lets you have this moment of respite to yourself, quietly moving about the room, getting ready for bed.

"Do you think they'll even show up?" Finally Felix breaks the silence, and you just make a vague noise, "to the dinners they told mum they'd be at," he clarified after a beat.

"Probably," you muttered, dejected at the prospect as your mind wanders to the couple who reluctantly created you.

"They asked about you," you admit to Felix quietly. From what you can hear, he stops, "mum, specifically," the memory of the phone call with your grandmother burned bright in your mind; it wasn't particularly recent, had happened at the start of your last semester, but you'd kept it to yourself for so long. You'd tried to disconnect yourself from it, tried to take solace in your grandmother's fury on your behalf, but you feel your face heat up with your own anguish, "asked how you were and if you were still living in 'that beautiful house with the Reubens and all those royal portraits'," voice trembling with both heartache and resentment, you slide down the door, tears welling even as you had your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Nan sounded so angry when she told me," you whispered, knees drawn up to your chest, "I've never heard her like that; she made it sound like she yelled at mum for- for- for ages -" you feel when Felix settles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. This is when you finally break, when you finally let yourself cry, whimpering, "but I bet mum just hung up on her the minute she felt like the fucking victim."

Felix isn't the one who needs to be apologising right now, but part of you knows you'll never get one from the people you crave it the most from. Still, he apologises with his lips against your temple. You know your best friend well enough to know his heart is breaking for you, and fuck you wish you had been strong enough to push back this breakdown, but you couldn't -

"She asked for you by name, Fi, full name," you sobbed curling up in his arms, burying yourself against him in your misery, "they haven't spoken to me or about me in eleven years; they haven't even said my name- they've acted like I don't exist to everyone - everyone - even to my own grandmother for eleven years!"

There's no easy sleep that can be found after a revelation like this, but Felix, even after he manages to drift off, is unwilling to let you go, unwilling to let you feel even the slightest bit alone for the rest of the night. It continues through the next day, even as you assure him you're fine, that you're glad for his comfort but that you've overcome the despair that had hit you so tremendously last night. It's not even much of a lie.

You spend the day with the family who'd taken you in without hesitation, and feel a swell of pride within you as you hear Oliver comment enthusiastically on the Palissy plates Sir James had always loved dearly. You yourself vaguely recall the plates getting a page to themselves in the very book you'd gifted Oliver about Saltburn, so you were glad to see him putting it to good use.

A little white lie about how deep Oliver's love for Palissy genuinely was really wouldn't hurt anyone. Honestly, it was worth it for just how brightly Sir James' eyes shined at one of Felix or Venetia's friends finally taking an interest in his antiquities like that.

But all day, Felix was never too far away. Not that he was incredibly obvious about it, at least not from anyone else's perspective, but you could tell. Quietly, you were grateful, even if you were still trying to convince the both of you that you were okay. Something about being able to just lean back and know he'll be there in times like this, times where you need him to be there but don't know how to say it out loud, is a comfort you never want to take for granted.

You want to thank him but it gets caught in your throat. But standing on his balcony as the sun sets, sharing a cigarette, you take his free hand for this one, quiet moment. Your voice is full of affection, full of thanks, full of love, too much for you to even look at him, focus kept on your hands, your fingers laced with his.

"My Felix."

"Always, love," he kisses your forehead.

That night, the only time you are without him is when you end up in the lilac study, wondering if Oliver will even show up after last night broke the tradition. Either way you'd use the time to continue to go through your botany books on the hunt for red, curly, pointy, Australian flowers. You keep seeing bottle brush but something in your heart said it wasn't right. However long you'd actually spend perusing the books tonight would depend on if you had company.

But eventually Oliver does choose to darken the doorway with that hungry-eyed stare you've never seen in the light of day, and you take your time with noticing him. Tonight you're lounging on the cream sofa in one of Felix's shirts, not even bothering to do the buttons up; you've pulled it mostly close for a pass at modesty, considering the only other thing you're wearing is underwear.

"'re you seducing me?" He sounds amused; you're surprised by how quickly he cuts to the chase, but you try not to let it show.

"Is it working yet?" You turn another page of your book before you finally look up, playing almost at boredom. Oliver, barely visible for the lamp light, the gallery beyond him nothing but shadows, huffs a laugh at that, and for reasons you can't quite understand, he drops his gaze. He breaks the moment, the rules of the game. Oliver doesn't look away, he never has before.

"You trying to get me in trouble?"

"Depends on what you consider to be trouble," your smile grows wider as you carefully set your book to the side, fixing your intrigued gaze upon Oliver properly, "perhaps I'm saving you from trouble." In a sense, the more nights you can get him to spend here with you, the less he's falling prey to Venetia's planting herself beneath his window you're sure she's doing, just as she had with Eddie a year ago. At least this time you've learned.

"I think you may very well be the trouble," Oliver looks up, just in time to see your wicked, delighted grin.

"Then I am definitely trying to get you in trouble," you don't even hesitate before firing off the inuendo, smiling wide and proud at your own quick wit. The sight of Oliver's very genuine smile and laugh catches you off guard too; it'd been so long since you'd seen it, you forgot how taken you were with him when he lit up like that. Then, as the laughter died down, Oliver walks in, he sits with you, lets you lean against him.

"You've been saying a lot of..." he hesitates, turning to you. Oliver wears a strange, lopsided smile, but from the corner of your eyes you see something reserved in his gaze as he takes in the sight of you in this moment, "generous things about me." He's too close to miss the way your breath catches. Venetia and Farleigh are dirty fucking snitches, "'s alright-" he tries, but there's clearly some kind of reservation in his voice as he staves off your stammered apology, "knew what I was getting into, didn't I?"

With Oliver's arm around you, you can't help but wonder aloud -

"Did you?"

"I thought I did," he admitted softly, and you tipped your head onto his shoulder, then you feel him shift, feel his lips on your forehead and voice soft, "I think I thought I'd be alright anywhere if I was with Felix." For reasons you try very hard not to think about in this moment, Oliver's words sting.

"Oh," it almost gets caught in your throat; your traitorous heart sinks in your chest for just a moment. Except Oliver gives you a squeeze, holds you tight as he seems to realise his mistake.

"Of course you're a given," it almost salvages the moment, and of course you feel as though you have to act like it does, but there's something tight and unfamiliar balling up in your chest. "Felix loves you," Oliver sounds almost wistful, words coming out more like a faint breath, but perhaps it's this strange new feeling in your chest that makes him harder to read in this moment.

"He loves you too, Ollie," you tell him, forcing yourself to inject some levity into the moment. This time it's you who moves, who turns your face to Oliver, forehead against his as you muster up the warmest smile you can manage, pressing against him, making a show of overwhelming affection, "we both do," of course, your tone says, obviously.

And Oliver actually giggles at that, so it must work. In the next moment he's pulled you into his lap. It's so easy for you to readjust, to fit in his arms, in his space, against him, like it's where you were always meant to be.

"Is that you talkin' or Felix talkin'?" Oliver asks finally when you've got your arms settled around his neck, "I don't mind, I'd just like to know."

"What 'd you mean?" You ask, curious about the wording and it's implications. Oliver visibly hesitates, though he seems more embarrassed for whatever was about to come out of his mouth than anything else.

"Speakin' with Venetia made me realise how little I actually know about you," Oliver says carefully. Almost immediately your expression sours, and a long, exasperated sigh is pulled from you, "she's a deeply confusing woman, isn't she?" He adds almost like an afterthought, and you barked a quiet laugh.

"That is a very kind way of putting it," you offered diplomatically after a beat, before letting go of Oliver and leaning yourself back against the arm of the sofa, considering your next words carefully. His hands come to rest on your stomach, but you're surprised when he does up two of the buttons of Felix's shirt, providing you with a little more modesty. Then, his hands come to rest on your stomach and thighs, warm and unmoving.

"You're a deeply confusing individual yourself," Oliver pushes softly, "when I think about you too much, I realise there's not much to think about, least nothin' you've told me," and you hum noncommittally, looking up at the ceiling. The next words that escape you are from a script you'd thought was long buried.

"Yeah but that's kind of the point; I'm not really meant to matter, or be looked at, or thought about -" the words seem to shock even you, eyes going wide as you look to Oliver. The intensity of his stare has your heart hammering against your ribs as you try to back pedal, "sorry- that's not- I mean- sorry, that's really not, anymore that is -" you didn't even believe that anymore, right? Your place in the world as impressed upon you by your own parents for the first ten years of your life. Surely having spent more time by now with Felix and the Cattons than you ever had with them was enough to rewrite a good deal of the cruel way in which you'd been hardwired.

Oliver reaches out, caressing your cheek with that confident smile he only ever seemed to wear when the sun couldn't see him. He tells you that you matter, with absolute sincerity. Then, expression lightening to something fond, even teasing, he warns you not to let Felix catch you talking like that, that his love for you was the kind that would have him throwing a parade just to prove that self-doubt wrong. It was a nice mental image, if only for a moment. You, Oliver, Felix, not necessarily a parade for you per say, but a mess of colour and joy and music in the city, together and happy and -

"I don't know if you'd want that," Oliver's grin is fading, and finally you sit back up, let yourself be wrapped up in him as he continues to trail his fingers across the edge of your face, down your throat, across your collar, "but then again Venetia thinks you don't even know how."

"How what?" Voice barely more than a whisper, you know he can feel how quick your heart's beating, his hand flat and warm on your sternum.

"How to want for yourself, 'least not anything outside of Felix," he keeps his gaze trained on his hand, heel of his palm pressing firmer just over your heart, "which is why I asked; you said you loved me, is that you or Felix talking when you say that?" And finally he looks at you. That tight, sharp feeling in your chest spikes when he meets your gaze. He looks so earnest, so open, so ready for either answer.

But you stand, leaving both yourself, and Oliver's lap cold, but hoping your smile is warm enough compensation. Except you can hear in his voice that he believes Venetia; she'd confirmed what he'd suspected, it's what he left unsaid the night you'd slept with each other. The only thing you wanted was so easily met; to be wanted, and seemingly content with nothing more outside of Felix. A contented sycophant, easy to please and happy to be used; you knew the world was happy with this being your place in it.

And the more you think about it, the more you think Oliver is too.

"Of course it's Felix," you tell him what you're almost certain he wants to hear. No need to scare him off with the expectations of your own feelings on his shoulders. Oliver watches you for a long moment, simply observing as you smile wider, and hope that it comes across as adoring, "which means of course I do love you too, that's a given, Ollie." The sharp discomfort is scraping at your ribs, more painful with each word, hollowing out your chest moment by moment, so you bid him good night, unable to bare the conversation for much longer.

"Just one favour, by the way, if you could," you add by the door. He makes a noise of intrigue, but you can't even bring yourself to look at him. It'll be another just person looking at a placeholder while they're waiting for Felix to be ready to love them back. Usually you don't mind. Usually it's enough and you can still enjoy their company and have your fun. But they aren't Oliver Quick, "just... please refrain from properly fooling around with Venetia? I know I sound like a hypocrite but," you take a deep breath, smiling wide enough that you don't even have to see Oliver, "it kind of goes back well beyond just you."

The next morning, stopping into the study before you head down to breakfast, you intend to collect the book you'd finally found those red flowers in. Top of your pile, you'd left it open on the very page. But you find that someone has turned the page. Scabious, in full bloom, mocking you, surely.

The botany book lay like a bitter seductress on your desk, left open, pages spread and staring up at you; purple fucking pincushions.

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rebuke-me · 1 year

Note

pretend this is an emoji that relates to the eah au.

oh my god,,, a crown emoji. or a shoe emoji. what a surprise. its almost like u like ever after high. (/s)

OKAY SO.

i'm gonna give the vaguest crash course but i'll elaborate more under the cut for those interested

jeremy is a kid of cinderella, jake's a charming kid. brooke is also a charming kid, but like. in the "her and jake are more cousins than siblings" way but tbh genetics? murky in eah. chloe is a beauty & the beast kid. jenna is the kid of the boy who cried wolf, christine is a wonderland kid (probably alice), michael's pied piper, and rich is a goldilocks kid

it's deere bc of course it is

ALRIGHT MOTHERS AND FUCKERS OF THE JURY

so it's deere endgame bc im a whore for it. jeremy's a cinderella kid, but he'd be a rebel because he really doesn't. want that? he thinks he'll be put with brooke, the female charming kid, because he's a dude. he also doesn't want the bad parts of the story- mostly for his sister, esther, who would have to be his "evil" and "ugly" stepsister. so he doesn't sign the storybook of legends.

jake is a charming kid. he's been prepared for his whole life to be a prince for chloe's story, but he doesn't really like that idea. he doesn't see himself as very beastly, but the expectations of him being an arrogant asshole kind of drag him down. he has a sort of secret relationship with jeremy, and he ends up signing the book because it shows him jeremy as his destiny.

chloe is the kid of beauty and the beast. she spends her whole life thinking she's beauty, all prim and proper. except it goes to her head- she's one of the most important stories, everyone thinks so. she ends up being the beast in her story rather than the beauty, because she has to learn a lesson about egotism and humility.

brooke expects to not have a "real" destiny because she's a female charming. she is kind of chloe's shadow for their entire lives because she doesn't have a story set for her. (she ends up supposed to be the beauty/princess in chloe's story, because i like toxicity. she doesn't like chloe though, and she doesn't want to sign the book either.)

rich is a goldilocks kid. he is kind of the black sheep, because he chopped all his "golden blonde" hair off. bc my rich is always and forever trans. he's easily susceptible to peer pressure, even if he says he isn't, and is focused on everything being 'just right.' him and brooke are close because they both feel kind of shit about their stories and their friends.

christine is alice. she's close enough to wonderland to be a little bit. eccentric. she's always curious, always looking for new adventures. she is just so very good and i adore her, i don't have much to say about her in this au oddly she just appears and says fun things then leaves and we love her for it

michael is a pied piper kid. he's not a rebel by choice, he doesn't MIND his story, but he doesn't really like kids. he's fine with it but like. he's a rebel because jeremy is, mostly, and because he doesn't like the idea of like. yk. being forced into one box.

and finally, jenna is the kid of the boy who cried wolf. she's eternally stuck in a place where everyone believes her, but her words never come true. the exact opposite always happens. she still gossips, though, because its the one time people pay attention to her. she is a rebel because she doesn't wanna get eaten lmao

#be more chill #bmc #ever after high #eah #bmc ever after high au

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reviilo · 2 years

Text

that's the continuation of this post

idk exactly how many parts it will be, i have all the script defined until the end of moa. i think writing here maybe help me to actually write the fanfic too

after everything, will decides to keep the secret and he notices that drew also didn't said anything (despite how upset will knew she was)

in december (before jason, piper and leo arrive at chb), will gets permission to spend a week with his mom at his grandparents' house (and here's what i thought for will's family dynamics)

before dinner, will and his grandma go to the market to buy some ingredients

will separates from her for two minutes, comes back and sees his grandma catching a child's attention, saying that "he's not dressed up enough" and "he's too thin"

would have been fun if it was anyone other than nico di angelo

nico tries to argue, but he obviously doesn't stand a chance against a worried indian grandmother

only the situation gets more serious when will's grandma says she's taking nico to spend the night with them, and doesn't accept opposition

"ammamma, you can't force someone to go somewhere, that's kidnap-" will gets The Look from her and gives up "so nico is coming with us"

when will blurts out nico's name, he realizes he won't be able to hide the truth from his grandma, so he said that nico's another demigod, which makes the lady even more impassive to leave nico alone (again, read this)

in the end, will's grandma wraps nico's entire neck and head with a scarf and drags him with them

when they arrive at his grandparents' place and his grandma explains the situation to his grandpa and naomi, she asks will to guide nico to the bathroom and borrow clean clothes while she finishes the food

when they're alone, nico stares at him silently and will feels like he's being watched by a macabre demon child from a horror movie (inspired by this)

nico finally opens his mouth and asks how much will and drew told chb about bob and hazel, looking like he's about to have a breakdown

will just says he didn't say anything and notices how nico gets visibly more relaxed

will leaves him in the bathroom and it doesn't take long for dinner to be ready and everyone to gather at the table

when nico comes back, he's wearing one of will's sweatpants, a loose, faded master yoda shirt, and his hair smells like will's favorite linseed shampoo

will definitely doesn't think about how the sight of nico with his family makes him feel warm with joy in his chest, and how different nico was from when he showed up riding a hellhound in manhattan and was so cool to challenge chronos in his face— will don't think about none of that

dinner follows as usual: naomi talking about her tours, his grandpa talking about some neighborhood football or basketball game, and will making brief comments

(he preferred not to talk about the demigod world during such peaceful moments)

will saw nico choke on his food and thought maybe the underworld didn't have great varieties of hot peppers, so he passed a big glass of water to the poor white boy

nico seemed determined not to participate in the conversation; will's grandma, on the other hand, had the opposite goal, and asked him a lot of simple and not very intimate questions most of the time

nico, however, only really started talking when will's grandma commented something about her history classes

it was the most will ever see of nico's excitement, the way he straightened his spine and didn't look away as he discussed whatever historical fact of the time was that will didn't pay enough attention to know

by the end of dinner, will had learned three things about nico: he loved history, he was terrible at putting up with spicy food, and he gestured a lot when he was excited

that night, will slept on the couch (not that he cared; it was closer to the kitchen) and nico took his room

will spent soms good thirty minutes trying to assimilate the strangeness of everything that happened that day, but when his eyes were closing, he could only think about how it was the first time a cute boy that his grandma loved slept in his bed while wearing his clothes

part 1 | part 2 | will's backstory

#hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo #percy jackson & the olympians #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #naomi solace #ocs #this is me trying to erase solangelo's canon ableism :)#oh also desi will solace #i love all the jokes with nico being a white boy #thanks for that hazel queen #will's super simp #and fucking gay #his grandma would totally kick her grandson out of his room

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Horror Villains And: Period Sex

oh that is the perfect gif I totally forgot all about it but oh boy. thanks billy for your service to this blog.

Warnings: Obviously, menstruation, blood, and smut. I’m dealing with a particularly uncomfortable period (for me at least) and just want some e m p a t h y about it.

~~~

Who LOVES it:

Freddy Krueger: ABSO-MOTHER FUCKING-LUTELY. It’s a struggle to keep his hands off you (on a normal day) during your period. He can smell it.

Kieran Wilcox: yes please mommy, he’s waiting.

Luda Mae Hewitt: This is her secret kink.

Michael Myers: B l o o d p l a y? Any kind of bloodplay, Michael is into it. If you weren’t already bleeding, he would probably make you bleed, with his (Actual) knife.

Mickey Altieri: Bring it. Jesus christ, Mickey thinks its so hot. Getting his cock or his fingers coated in your slick and your blood (Seeing the string consistency between his fingers), seeing you in a total mess from your period and being fucked to oblivion? Oh yes.

Midnight Man: He just likes it. I dunno. I don’t have a logical reason, extension or explanation of my vibes here but I am getting them from him.

Patrick Bateman: Oh my god it is his favourite kind of sex. Yes yes yes. Please please please. He marks your cycle in his calendar, with special notes about flow and mood. Soon enough he’s figured out your whole period every week and knows exactly when the iron is hot enough to strike. Any w h e r e, any t i m e .

Both Pennywise’: Ooooh, watch their eyes glow and their hair get more luscious when you tell them. Their teeth get sharper and the whites of their eyes get whiter- they’re horny as fuck now. Be a good sport and give them a lil taste, won’t you? A smell at least? That, or have them trailing you like lost puppies for the rest of the week, and curling up to/around you as tightly as possible when you’re sleeping.

The Clown / Jeffrey Hawk / Kenneth Chase: Where else could he possibly go on this post, honestly.

The Man (Hush): Yep. He’s favourite time of month.

Who is like ‘a b s o l u t e l y n o t’:

Jerry Dandridge: Do I really need to comment? I mean, he can control himself being around you on your period, but you cannot let that blood smell hit the open air. Your controlled, classy vampire bf will disappear in an instant and will be replaced with… well, Evil.

Yeah no thanks:

Debbie Loomis: She’s not vehemently against it, but still… nah? Thanks for the offer tho. And it won’t happen when she’s on her period either, c e r t a I n l y not. Don’t even touch her when she’s on her period, jesus christ.

Jennifer Check: Yeah she just got a new manicure. Over her dead body will you stain her new French tips with your coochie blood. And if she puts her mouth down there, it might excited t o o much if you get what I mean and you will become a real snack.

Is indifferent towards it:

Bo Sinclair: You’re sure into him durin’ this time o’ month, aren’t you? Eh… whatever. Hop on. He’s happy to help his partner, especially if its in such a gratifying way! I mean he won’t buy you any fucking pads but he will do this and there’s Bo as a boyfriend for you.

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: I mean sure? Blood doesn’t scare him and it is, in fact, a turn on for him of course so sure. Plus, you’re less likely to get pregnant at this time, which is great! Doesn’t see what the big deal is, here. (Although, weirdly, I see past Chucky from Curse to be very much in the next category)

Inkubus: It’s not even a big d e a l, man, its cool. He likes all kinds of sex. Go wild.

Jason Voorhees: Jason is basically ace in the way he conducts himself on a general basis but if it tuned out that he was interested in sex and/or was willing to do it with you, then some blood leaking out of your private parts because of some natural causes is not going to change his mind. Is this not normal??

Jedidiah Sawyer: ???Alright??? He wears a mask made of skin, your natural bodily functions are not going to scare him away. Besides, the knowledge that it could lessen menstrual pain for you is a nice bonus. He’s gotta take care of his family.

Roman Bridger: It’s really not a big deal to him. We’ll just put down a darker sheet, or some plastic. You both need this sometimes (Him for emotional support when he’s stressed, and you of course cuz you’re on your damn period) and a bit of blood is certainly not a deal breaker. Besides, he finds the easy thrusting to be nice and comfortable. Preferred sometimes, actually. Just some nice, lazy, relieving sex with your director boyfriend.

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: A little bit a’ blood aint gonna turn me off, sugar. Don’t you worry bout that.

The Djinn: See Inkubus. Except, our dear Wishmaster is so much more of a tease about this.

Is enthusiastic when they learn that orgasms lessen period pain:

Bubba Sawyer: He doesn’t care about exposure to blood, obviously, and he doesn’t see it as gross at all but he was still concerned about whether that was safe during your… monthly thing… but once he found out that it could help you with cramps he got on board immediately! ^^

Lester Sinclair: Oh boy, well okay then, let’s give this a go then!!

Mayor Buckman: He knows the drill; Boone gets terrible cramps. Don’t worry, he’s got you.

Pamela Voorhees: Oh of course she’ll help you out when you’re hurting ^^

Stuart Lloyd: Well… don’t get him wrong, for sure there is the part where it helps you in a seriously uncomfortable time… but then there is also the fact that he is a lil bit of a secret freak and menstrual care is a good excuse for him. (So he also belongs in the first category ^^)

The Deathslinger / Caleb Quinn: Blood doesn’t bother him, and if it’ll give you a hand with yer monthly problem then you just need to ask him. You’ll be on the bench in the saloon with your thighs spread without a second thought, like asking for a glass of water. (Except of course Caleb’s a lot more hands on about the whole thing of course (; ) He’s happy to help.

The Huntress / Anna: Oh!! Really?? It’ll help? Okay, then, sunflower. Remove your pants. Let’s go !!

Vincent Sinclair: He’s just very supportive and helpful through all areas of your period. He doesn’t understand, but he can still be sympathetic and help the way you say would be good ^^

Is curious and will try:

Billy Loomis: Is really curious and excited to try it. I mean, he likes blood? He likes sex? And this is both those things?? Fun lubricant, yay.

Chop Top Sawyer: And when I say that he’ll try and I REALLY MEAN IT, MAN. Like, go big or go home. He’s going to eat you out at this time and he’ll end up really enjoying it. Buckle up babes, you’ve awoken something buried pretty damn s h a l l o w l y inside him.

Granny Boone: Similar to Chop Top except with him, you had to tell him you were on your period and all so it would be different and all, while with Boone she was the one sniffing it out and *cough* hunting you approaching you about trying it.

Jill Roberts: For the same reasons as Billy. Plus, she wants to be able to say ‘well I did it for you- you have to do it for me.’

Leslie Vernon: I mean, he’ll give anything a shot once. What’s the harm?

Piper Shaw: Same as Jill.

Stu Macher: Super enthusiastic to try!! XDD Just, like, dyed lube- right?

Is c a u t i o u s:

Carrie White: … periods have always been difficult for her… But she’s willing to give it a try as long as you’re willing to return the favour! ^^

Thomas Hewitt: Tell him, if whatever he does hurts you. He is very serious about this. He wants you to feel better, but he doesn’t really know this works and does not want you hurting in his vein attempt at making you feel better. So, please. Tell him how you’re feeling. He’ll get really good at making your cramps and discomfort go away.

They may take some convincing:

Drayton Sawyer: I mean, he’s of course not afraid of some blood but… uh… Well, I mean, he doesn’t really have a big, or even moderate sex drive in the first place so any sex of any kind takes some warming up to. Maybe if the stars aline and you catch him on a good day. Otherwise, he tells you to just suck it up.

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 3 years

Note

Companion react to Nora trying to hide a stab wound on her chest from them. She refuses medical help even though the wound could be fatal. She tries to runaway from them when confronted about whether she did this to herself or she got it in battle. When she is caught she says she did it because she wants to have another pain stronger than the pain of failing and losing her family. This is a sad one 😭😭😭. Keep up the good work!!!!! This is the best blog I��ve read!!!

Oh, my goodness, thank you so much!!! You have no idea how much that means to me to hear 🥺💖💖💖

And yes, this was a very sad idea, and I hope that I did alright with the companions' reactions! 😊 I think I kind of made myself sad while writing, though.... 😢

Thank you for the ask, and I hope you enjoy! 💙💛

Warning: Heavy discussion of self-harm ahead.

Cait - Feels as if she has been slapped when she learns the truth behind the wound. She feels as if she might throw up as she just gapes at it. Finally she asks her why she kept it a secret. F!Sole explains that she was afraid, and Cait just shakes her head. She grabs F!Sole's shoulders in her hands tightly, just staring into her eyes. After a painfully long moment, she tells her that she has felt the same way in life. She pulls up her shirt and shows a place on her stomach. Cait explains that she had been young and stupid and the guilt of her parents' murder was particularly fresh. She explains that she almost died and would have actually if Tommy would not have patched her up and insisted that she keep going. Cait explains that death is not worth it and the pain from the wound will never take away or even truly overshadow the emotional pain of F!Sole losing her family. After giving F!Sole a long and careful hug, she practically drags her to the nearest doctor.

Piper - Piper just walks toward her slowly as if she was approaching an injured animal, and she gently takes her Blue's hand away from the wound. Piper just gazes at it, feeling her own chest hurt, but for an entirely different reason. Piper, tears glinting in her pretty greens, looks up into F!Sole's eyes, her heart broken for her best friend. She shakes her head, telling F!Sole that F!Sole has been through enough pain as it is. She does not need to add to it. Also, she tells her that if they don't treat it, then she might die, and that would hurt Piper more than anything. F!Sole ends up breaking down into tears, and Piper just holds her for a while, almost crying herself. Eventually Piper leads her to the nearest doctor, her hand in hers the entire time as Piper tries to give her strength from sheer force of will.

Curie - Gasps and places her hands over her mouth as her eyes well up with tears. She carefully reaches out to F!Sole, hugging her as gently as she can. Curie barely manages to tell her how dangerous this sort of thing is before breaking down into tears. In the midst of sobs, she tells F!Sole that she has to let her treat it and that F!Sole needs to try to move on. Curie asks her to try to talk to her from then on, and F!Sole is shaking a little as Curie barely pulls away, wiping at her eyes with her hands as she tries to more closely inspect the wound. In the midst of a constant flow of tears, she explains that she owes everything to F!Sole, and she should focus on the positive in life. She ends up gently hugging F!Sole and just standing there for a long time with her until she softly asks her to come with her so she can help her with the wound.

MacCready - Is borderline panicking when he sees it and finds out. He does not even know what to say besides why. She explains, and he is still just totally baffled. He finally tells her that to do that is not a good decision and she could die from the wound if she waits much longer to treat it. He explains that she has a son to keep going for. He tells her that the kid adores her. He has seen firsthand how boys love their mothers and he says that all he can see in the kid is pure adoration. After a long moment, he finally awkwardly offers her a hug, and she quickly takes him up on it. They stay in that position for a while before he finally asks her if she wants to go get medical attention for her wound. When she agrees, he thinks he might just melt from relief.

Deacon - Is remarkably quiet and lost as to what to say. He stares for a good, long while, searching for something productive to say about the entire thing as his silver tongue fails him considerably. He stammers for a little while before finally telling her that she is so lucky. She has a son to call her own and so many people all around that care about her. He says that even though her kid now is a synth, the boy loves her like any real child would. He tells her that he understands how it feels to lose a lover, and says that everybody handles it differently. He then explains that she needs to try to find a more positive outlet or a distraction for it that does not come in the form of self-harm. She hugs him after a moment, and he carefully and very uncomfortably hugs her back before quickly suggesting that they go visit Doctor Carrington.

Codsworth - Is terribly distraught and does not even truly know what to do. The first statement that he makes is that she needs to seek medical attention. She refuses at first, and he softly tells her that it could kill her and he needs her. He explains that she is the last family he has, and he cannot lose her. She is too important to him, and he tells her that hurting herself is not going to help anything. He asks her if it makes her feel any better and she says that it actually hurts quite a bit. He tells her that is the reason that she should not do it anymore. He explains that he never wants to see her in pain, and she very much needs to find medical attention for the injury. She finally agrees to it, knowing how much this is hurting him and starting to understand that this leads down no productive road. He is very thankful that she listens to him.

Hancock - Takes her wrists in his hands, gently pulling her own hands away from her chest so he can look at the wound. He feels his stomach fall to the floor and he clenches his teeth, trying to hold back the intense pain from seeing her like this. He never wants to see her hurt and it injures him even more to know that she did this to herself. He tells her that there are healthier ways to try to overcome the pain of losing her family. He asks her if she would rather do chems. At this point, he is willing to offer anything even if it is a bad idea. He just does not think he would be able to bear her hurting herself again. He tells her that she can come to him to talk, and that he will do anything she wants him to. He just begs her to try anything but please don't hurt herself anymore. He ends up hugging her for a long while, and carefully asks her if she wants to go and get her injury looked at now. When she agrees, he leads her away to find a doctor.

Danse - Is just staring, feeling his heart stop and a sick feeling set in the pit of his stomach. He immediately blames himself for her current state, believing that he must not have been there for her properly. He tells her how sorry he is and how he cannot believe that he neglected her needs like this. She tries to redirect the blame to herself, but he will have none of it. He one hundred percent blames himself for the entire thing. She ends up seeing how much it affects him, and she feels so awful about it that she definitely will not try it again. When he finally guides her away to find a doctor, she easily goes with him, not fighting at all as she starts trying to comfort him.

Preston - Is terribly sad when he sees it and understands the truth. He explains that he somewhat understands what she is going through. However, he also tells her that she cannot just hurt herself. He somewhat thickly says that hurting herself won't change anything and this pain won't distract her from the pain of losing her family. He explains that this wound could kill her if she is not careful and he tells her that she has a literal army of people that adore her and practically idolize her and she cannot just let them all down. He finally wraps her in a careful hug, and she soaks his coat with her tears. He finally tells her that they need to go get some medical help for her wound.

Valentine - Just shakes his head, feeling more heartbroken than he ever has. He knows that if he possessed the ability to cry, the tears would be streaming down his face right now. He just pulls her close to him, stroking her hair and quietly telling her that this is not the way. He explains that no pain is greater than losing family, and she should not even try to find a hurt worse than that. He tells her how so many people he has seen have resorted to this sort of thing and have died. He says that she has so much love around her and so many people are so lucky to still have people that care and that they care about. She ends up breaking down into tears, and he just lets her cry against him for a long time. After a while, he finally guides her away to find a medic.

X6-88 - Wordlessly takes her arm firmly, leaving no room for discussion as the fear and uncertainty ripples through him while he drags her to the nearest doctor. She is fighting him, and he finally stops after a long time of pulling her along. She explains everything, and he is quiet for a long moment before clenching his jaw tightly and telling her that it is prudent to avoid injuring oneself because oftentimes a wound this severe cannot be healed so easily. He tells her that losing her family is doubtlessly causing great pain, but she needs to consider those around her and how they would feel if they lost her to this injury and her own darkness. She ends up crying and she grabs him in an embrace. He freezes in her grasp and after a painstakingly long time, he pats her on the back very stiffly. They then continue on their way to a doctor.

Dogmeat - Is with her when she does it. He lays his ears back and whimpers the entire time. His mind is racing. Why is she hurting herself? He cannot stand to see her in pain, and he suffers tenfold the pain that she is experiencing as he sees her, helpless to stop it. As she collapses on the ground, tears rolling down her face from the pain, he lays in her lap, sniffing her wound carefully and aiming to lick it before she guides his nose away. He then just sadly rests his chin on her chest where she has not just hurt herself. A low whine stays in his throat as he looks at her. She looks down at him after a while, and he reaches up, licking her chin as he gazes up at her. His heart is truly and deeply sad. He loves her and he does not understand why she'd ever want to hurt herself. Does she not think that she is as special as he knows she is? After a long moment, she pats him, wordlessly asking him to get off of her. He complies and he then follows her as she finds a doctor nearby.

Strong - Is confused about why tiny human would hurt herself. Even after she explains it a little more, he does not understand. Why would someone hurt themselves? That's what enemies do. He tells her this, and he also says that she should not hurt herself because it makes her weak. He says that getting hits from enemies and living through pain is true strength. She tries to hug him after that, finding herself quite inspired by his simple yet deep philosophy, and he shrugs her off. He then tells her she needs to get a bandage or something to keep her hurt place from bleeding anymore.

If any of you feel the urge to hurt yourself, please do not. Please remember each of the companions and what they would say and how they would feel. Think of how people around you will feel. Remember that you are valuable, and no physical pain will ever override an emotional pain. You have to work through emotional pain, and reach out to people who love you and want to help you. Always remember that things will eventually get better. 💖

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phoebehalliwell · 2 years

Text

Four Dancing Princesses

a secret santa gift from @missbrunettebarbie for @lady-adventuress

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away there lived a wise old queen and her four granddaughters, the Princesses Prudence, Piper, Phoebe and Paige. No one in the kingdom would consider these four sisters unlucky: they were young, healthy and everything they wanted was offered to them on a silver platter.

But they had one great sorrow: their mother had died shortly after her youngest daughter's birth. The adventurous Princess Patricia had drowned in a lake that was whispered to be cursed, leaving behind a mother whose heart hardened to stone, a husband who felt like he had no place in the suffocating castle, a lover who would forever mourn her and children that would barely remember her.

Distraught by the loss of her only child, the queen decided her granddaughters had to be sheltered and protected from the world. She kept them in the palace, a gilded cage that turned from paradise to prison once the girls grew up.

"Grandmother had crossed a line. She had no right to send Andy away!".

Princess Prudence, most commonly referred as Prue, was pacing back and forth through the room, ranting about the unfairness of the world. If some of the courtiers would have seen her now, they would have hardly believed it was the Crown Princess-always poised, calm and collected- who was having a nervous breakdown. But Prue had learned a long time ago not to show her emotions in front of anyone but her sisters.

“I still can’t believe she actually thinks Andy is...incompetent. We grew up with him. He's always been with us, he’s practically our brother. I don’t understand why she thinks we are not safe with him anymore. No one had tried to kidnap or assassinate us since Andy became Captain of the Guard.”

It was rare that Phoebe and Prue ever agreed on something. The two sisters were too alike in personality, both too stubborn to ever get along. But they were united by a strong sense of justice that had been pricked when the Queen had sent Andy Tradeau-their childhood friend- away.

Unlike her younger sister, Prue knew exactly why their grandmother no longer wanted him near them. It wasn’t because of his inability to protect the girls from outside threats, but because, as they all grew older, he himself had become a threat for them. At least in Grandmother’s eyes. Phoebe and the others may think of him as a brother, but Prue never did. For her Andy had always been something else. Something more.

A month ago, she had kissed him in the garden, with only the moon and the stars as their witnesses. It had been a kiss worthy of fairy tales, if Prue had ever believed in them. Both of them had been quiet, as words had no place on that summer night. The next day, they would be princess and knight again, kept apart by their duties, but bathed in the light of the moon, where nobody could find them, they had been lovers.

Except someone must have found out and told the queen, who had been none too pleased at the idea of her eldest granddaughter making a “bad match”, like her daughter had. Privately, Prue doubted anyone would ever be good enough in her grandmother’s eyes, as she wanted her granddaughters for herself, kept ‘safe’ in a glasshouse that would soon run out of air and suffocate them all.

Piper, the second eldest who was also starting to dream of love and passion, shared a look with Prue, understanding what the younger two couldn’t yet comprehend. While Phoebe and Paige weren’t exactly children anymore, they had yet to feel the desire for freedom that burned in the oldest two. To see oneself grow old and yet nothing else change was indeed a curse crueler they could have imagined.

“I wish there was a way to live the lives we want without upsetting grandmother.”

“That’s not possible, and you know it, Piper. Grandmother doesn’t want us to live any kind of life.”

The scratching comment was delivered by Paige, who as the youngest sister had always idolized Phoebe and followed in her rebellious footsteps, taking Phoebe's contempt for their sheltered life to new heights. While she was legally thought to be the daughter of Princess Patricia and her husband, it was an open secret that Paige was the by-product of her mother's extramarital affair with one of her advisors. Despite the fact that nobody had ever said something to her face and her (half-) sisters' love, she had always felt as the odd one out. The princess who wasn't supposed to be a princess.

Piper didn't answer as she had learned a long time ago it was better to keep silent in these kinds of arguments. It hadn't taken her long to realize they only fought with each other because this was the only thing they could do. They had no control over their own lives except when it came to their little spats.

And they all knew why Paige was always angry this time of the year. Tomorrow would be her birthday and as always the day of her birth only reminded her of all the secrets and treachery that had led to it. And with each passing year locked into the castle, it also brought forward despair at the realization that her life will be wasted inside these palace walls.

"Grandmother can't keep Andy away forever without dismissing him from his position. And she can't do that without a reason, unless she wants to look capricious or even paranoid. Eventually he will come back and all you have to do, Prue, is wait."

Prue nodded, knowing that Piper was right. Nonetheless it didn't make it any easier to swallow her complaints and sit idly, when it felt like her entire life was made of moments of waiting for a miracle that would not come.

If there was one thing Prue took solace from, it was taking care of her sisters. It wasn't always like this, of course: on most days, they annoyed and exasperated her. But she was still the eldest and since their mother's death she had taken it upon herself to make sure they would know as much love as she could give.

So on Paige’s eighteen birthday, Prue is the one that does what their mother would have done if she was alive. She gave her sister the gift she should have gotten a long time ago.

“When each one of us was born, mother ordered another copy of this story to be made. They are all the same, only the covers differ. I got mine when I learned how to read, just like Piper did the next year. Mother said it’s her favourite fairytale and wants us to enjoy it just like she did. I’ve given Phoebe’s when she learned how to read, but by the time you were old enough for yours...I, well, I forgot all about it. I am truly sorry.”

Paige took the book feeling strangely reverent, like she was touching a part of the mother she had never known instead of a dusty old book.

“Twelve Dancing Princesses” she read the title out loud with a frown.

Oddly enough, she would have never guessed this had been her mother’s favourite fairytale. Paige herself had always found the story disconcerting: the twelve sisters escaping to a magic world to do nothing but dance with twelve unknown princes only to be caught by a soldier had been interesting, but the ending was what baffled her; the soldier’s trespassing meant the magical realm will forever be closed to the sisters and they had to choose between staying or leaving with him. In the end it had been the eldest sister who had chosen to leave as she had fallen in love with him, and her sisters had soon followed.

It was not exactly the happy end Paige had expected -why did the princesses have to choose between the two worlds they lived in? She had never understood, as to her it had seemed cruel and unnecessary. As such she had promptly forgotten the tale. She couldn’t understand why her mother had loved it enough to make a copy for each daughter. Maybe she had had a passion for dancing...but she hadn’t heard anyone mentioning it.

“And you all have a copy with this exact story?”

All three sisters nodded and showed them their own books. Sure enough they were identical: word for word, illustration for illustration. The only difference was the cover, as Prue had said. Each one showed one dancing princess, but not the same as the other’s. Prue’s was dancing under the midnight sky, surrounded by flowers that could only be gladioli. Piper’s was dancing at sunset, in a field of sunflowers. Phoebe’s princess was dancing in an oleander garden, bathed in the light of day. And hers….her ballerina looked to be dancing at sunrise, between rows of fireweeds. She also noticed each book had the name of its owner written in golden letters. To someone who didn't know better, it would have looked like it was naming the princess on the cover.

“How strange,” Paige couldn’t help but whisper.

Piper smiled at her youngest sister’s confusion. She knew exactly how she felt, and unlike Paige she had gotten her book from mother herself. But even then, Princess Patricia had refused to answer her daughter’s questions, telling her she would find out for herself when the time was right.

“I used to think so too, but now I find it nice. It’s like mom wanted us to always have a part of her.”

Paige frowned, studying the covers carefully.

“Why do you think she chose different flowers for the cover?”

“I always thought she got her inspiration from the mosaic in our room.”

Piper pointed out to the floor of their immense bedroom. Sure enough, in the middle was a mosaic Paige had grown used to see. But until now she had never noticed that it depicted four different flowers: a gladiolus, a sunflower, an oleander and a fireweed. A strange bouquet, but as they have lived with it their entire lives, they hadn’t noticed it until now.

“You know, I always loved this thing. I’ve read that it’s as old as the castle itself, but there is no mention of who designed and created it. I am surprised since it must have taken a lot of time and work for no one to claim it.”

The others were surprised by the note of melancholy in Prue’s voice:

“I remember Mom telling me about it once. I think she said that this room was supposed to be a study, not a bedroom. And that Queen Melinda herself ordered the mosaic made to represent the flowers that grew on this land before the castle was built. I think….I think there was some legend about Queen Melinda enchanting it.”

Phoebe’s eyes shone at the word ‘enchanted’. She had long been passionate about anything that had to do with magic and as such she had adored the legendary Witch Queen that had founded their dynasty.

“If Melinda enchanted it, what do you think it can do?”

“Nothing, Phoebe. It’s just a story, Queen Melinda wasn’t a witch and the mosaic is certainly not magical.”

Phoebe narrowed her eyes at Prue’s words, not liking her condescending tone. She forcefully took her book from Paige’s hand and went to the tile that depicted the great pink oleander. It was even more beautiful than the one on the cover, but definitely the same, as she counted the number of petals and anthers. Paige and Piper soon joined her, comparing their own book illustrations to the fireweed and the sunflower on the floor.

“They are identical.” Piper declared, almost mesmerized. “I wonder what it’s supposed to mean.”

Prue lost her calm and advanced towards her childish sisters.

“It means nothing Piper, except that Mom liked...”

She stopped when she reached the gladiolus tile and realized with dread that it had started glowing. As did the other tiles her sisters were standing upon.

“Wow. I told you magic is real.”

“Not now, Phoebe.”

Prue couldn’t focus on her sister as she felt the very ground under her feet moving. The walls of their room seem to melt into the flower, leaving everything to be bathed in a blinding golden light. All four sisters closed their eyes to shield themselves and when they opened them they were no longer in their bedroom. In fact, they were in a place none of them recognized. A pavilion that looked to be made entirely of diamonds and marble, surrounded by twelve statues of handsome men. Music was coming from nowhere and the air smelled sweeter and fresher than any other they had breathed. A great lake began where the pavilion finished, looking like it was as infinite as the ocean itself, the pale blue of its waters blending with the azure of the sky in the distant horizon.

And most worryingly, there were flowers everywhere: gladioli, sunflowers, oleander blossoms and fireweeds, to be exact.

“Are we dreaming?”

Prue wished she could answer Piper’s question with a decisive ‘yes’, but it didn’t feel like a dream at all. On the contrary, it felt like they were finally awake after years of slumber. As if it read her thoughts, the music picked up the tempo and four of the twelve statues came to life. They each bowed in front of one of the girl’s, Piper’s going as far as to kiss her hand, making the second eldest sister blush madly. None of them needed words to know what was happening; they were invited to dance. But neither of them could summon the will to move, as they were too baffled by the unexpected turn of events. Finally, it was Phoebe who spoke, her voice equal parts disbelief and excitement.

“Oh my God, I think we are in the fairytale.”

Prue grimaced but didn’t contradict her. Instead, in a show of recklessness that the self-poised princess rarely displayed, she took her prince’s hand and let him (it?) lead her in a waltz.

It was the cue the others were waiting for, as they too accepted their respective partner’s invitation for a night of dancing, laughing and freedom they could have never dreamed of.

Captain Andy Tradeau had not missed the royal palace, with its strict rules and its gossiping inhabitants, but he had missed his duties and maybe even more, he had missed Prue. It was useless to lie to himself and say it was because he had grown-up alongside her and her sisters. What he and Prue shared was unique, special, something only they could fully understand.

But he couldn’t think about that. As said as it was, the chances of a future together were slim, very slim. Instead, Andy did what he knew best: he focused on his work.

The palace was one of the safest places in the kingdom, but the Queen’s paranoia meant that he had to always be on his guard. And he had to admit it wasn’t really paranoia when strange occurrences seemed to have plagued the royal family for generations. Andy had resolved to always expect the unexpected. However, the latest gossip shocked even him.

Every night the princess went to bed only for the servants to find them the next morning even more tired than before, their shoes worn and their nightgowns dirty with leaves and petals. Nobody knew why and the princesses didn’t seem inclined to talk.

Queen Penelope had apparently argued with them and ordered them to be locked in their room unless they told her where they left every night. When that had failed, she had offered a handsome reward to anyone who could find out and stop her granddaughters from endangering themselves.

The news was worrisome for Andy. He resolved to talk to Prue about it, sure that she would put his mind at ease. After all, Andy knew that no matter how stubborn the girls could be, they were reasonable people. Or at least that was what he had thought, until he confronted Prue.

She hadn’t been cold towards him, but she hadn’t been warm either. When she had told him that what she and her sisters did at night was none of his concern, Andy had snapped, worry and anger making him irrational:

“Damn it, Prue, why can’t you understand I am concerned for you. It’s my duty to protect you and your sisters and…”

‘And I love you’, ‘And the thought of you coming to harm is unbearable’, ‘And I want nothing more than to be with you every second of the day’ were all things he wanted to say but couldn’t. And maybe Prue saw all that, there was no other explanation for the flash of hurt in her eyes. She left him with his conflicted emotions. He didn’t know what to do with the new feelings that had arisen between them lately. Prue, Piper, Phoebe and Paige have always been his friends, but now every time he thought about Prue, something in his chest ached with unknown desire.

But his feelings were not important right now, the princesses’ safety was. Andy swore to himself to find out what was happening, one way or another.

It had been more than a fortnight since Prue and her sisters had discovered the magical world literally hidden beneath their feet. The first night they danced and explored. As far as she could tell the garden seemed to be infinite and the pavilion was its center, the place where all the magic happened.

Phoebe had soon discovered that it was the flowers that granted them their every wish and had resolved to use them as de facto magic wands. Prue didn’t like to admit it, but it was a good idea.

All the freedoms they were denied during the day, they could enjoy for themselves during the night. No more asking for things, here they could take what they wanted. In this place, they felt like actual princesses for maybe the first time in their lives.

The Garden provided for everything, food, music, books. Even people when they were feeling lonely. The ‘princes’ they have been given the first night looked like crayon sketches compared to the masterpiece of lords and ladies the girls had learned to wish for, who could walk, talk and seemed to have a mind of their own.

They even had names, as Prue had discovered when Piper kept talking about a certain ‘Mark’, the Garden had conjured for her and her only. Prue was starting to worry that her sister’s attachment to what was frankly a ghost might be detrimental in the long run, but it’s not like she could forbid Piper anything. After all, they were coming here to escape rules and interdictions.

The one request the Garden has not been able to grant was when Prue had asked to talk to her mother. Prue had been disappointed, the foolish hope she had nurtured inside since she was a little girl was gone now that it looked like even literal magic could not bring her mother back. It seemed like the magic could conjure anything and anyone as long as it was not real.

Which was why when Andy walked in the pavilion, Prue knew instantly that he was real. Shock and worry fought in her heart, closely mirroring the emotions on his face as he looked around the strange world he had accidentally stumbled into.

Then his eyes met hers and Prue could see just the tiniest hint of relief and joy there.

“Prue!”

He breathed her name like a prayer and it filled her with warmth. Warmth that she refused to acknowledge. Because if Andy was here then their sanctuary had been discovered. She steeled herself against the affection that was starting to bloom in her heart. She had to drive him away.

“What are you doing here? How have you found us? Have you entered our bedchamber without permission?”

She saw the relief melt into anger and she couldn’t help but be glad for it. Anger was a feeling she was comfortable with, one that she could easily manage even in Andy, the man who made her feel anything but comfortable when she was near him.

“I’ve come to help you and this is how you react? God, I thought we were friends.”

“As you can see I am perfectly fine, as are my sisters. Your help is not needed.”

She had hoped the cold words would deflate him, but instead he looked more furious with every passing second.

“Fine? You disappeared into the freaking floor, Pruedence!”

“So you did spy on us. How dare you? You had no right…”

“As the captain of your guard, I have every right!”

“But not as a friend!”

She didn’t realize yelled the last sentence till she saw her sisters approach them, all three of them baffled at the sight of Andy being there.

“I don’t think we can be called friends anymore. Or maybe we never were because God knows neither of us acted like a friend should.”

It was Piper, always the peacemaker, who broke the heavy silence that followed the hurtful-and maybe true?-statement by calling Andy’s name. However Andy had no eyes nor ears for her. He looked exactly like Prue felt: devastated, hopeless, heartbroken.

“Then if we are not friends. And you can leave.”

For a second, Prue hoped he would stay, but he turned away without another word. She told herself it was better this way.

The next day, Prue only saw Andy briefly. He inclined his head in a cold greeting and Prue responds in kind. She did not know how to deal with this new Andy, but she supposes she deserved it. Guilt had nipped at her the whole night and her sisters had not hesitated to give it a voice. Three voices, in fact.

To her surprise, it was Piper’s which was the loudest:

“You and Andy had hurt each other last night, Prue. And I know it might feel good to ignore him and stew in your resentment for now, but we both know it’ll only hurt you in the long run.”

Prue disliked that her sister was making sense. She figured she had to talk to him, but not right now. She needed at least one more night for herself, pretending she had no care in the world.

However her escape posed its own troubles as they arrived back to what they had christened simply as The Garden. The grass was yellow, instead of vivid green like before, the flowers were wilting one by one, and even the marble of the pavilion had cracks in it. The music was more and more subdued, the statues looked cold and uninviting and the previously serene sky was hidden by storm clouds. The air itself smelled stale.

The sisters took all in, disappointed and devastated, not knowing what to do or say. Finally it was Phoebe who spoke first, her voice unusually subdued:

“It’s just like in the story. After the soldier followed the princess in their magical land, the magic started to disappear and they were not allowed there anymore.”

“Pheebs, are you saying this is Andy’s fault?”

The third sister simply shrugged. It was the only explanation she could come up with. Paige pointed out:

“But we haven’t been banned from the Garden yet. It doesn’t make sense.”

“The princesses have to choose between closing the portal and staying here forever or going home and never coming back. The eldest sister is the one who leaves with the soldier and convinces the others to do the same.”

It was Paige who voiced aloud the thought that was plaguing all of them:

“So we need to choose between staying here forever and never coming back? This doesn’t seem fair.”

It wasn’t fair, it was downright cruel. For the first time since their mother had died, Prue felt like crying. The Garden, magical or not, has been their sanctuary. As sad as it was, Prue felt like her home was taken away from her. While her sisters bickered and argued what to do, Prue knew she couldn’t stand there.

It was cowardly, but she didn’t want to think about leaving yet. Without meaning to, she drifted away from her sisters, walking alongside the perimeter of the lake. After her mother’s death, bodies of water held no fascination for Prue, so she had stayed clear of it until now. Oddly enough, at this moment, dipping her toes in the cold water felt like the closest thing to getting her mother back.

The water was too cold, a sign that even this was affected by The Garden’s slow but inevitable destruction, unless they sealed the door between the two realms. And on what side should they be when that would happen? Prue didn’t know.

Something was shining in the sun, not far away from her. Whatever the object was, it looked to be buried in the sand, but was reflecting the sun’s light the way glass wood. When she went to take it out she saw that it was indeed a glass bottle, with a message inside. The kind that one would expect to find in the waters of the sea, coming from a shipwrecked crew. Since she doubted any ship had ever sailed on this lake, Prue wondered who the message was from. The paper was old and dusty and deciphering the somewhat messy handwriting was not easy. But when she did, she felt like crying:

My dearest daughters,

If you are reading this then you have discovered my secret hiding place like I hope you would. This magical world has served me well for almost a year now, and I hope it will bring you just as much joy. You may wonder what this place is. In truth, I do not know myself, except that it has served as a sanctuary for many women in our family when they wanted to escape their royal life for a while.

If you are wondering why I am writing this letter, I am not sure myself. Perhaps it is to make sure you know there is nothing wrong with wanting to escape your own life for a little while. Or maybe because I want to make sure you will know when to come back. I’ve spent more than a year here, and today I realized it is enough. I have to come back to my responsibilities and to you my dears. I have a life waiting for me as you no doubt have too.

Still, I hope you will spend your days here however you like and when you come back, please come and tell your old mother -I hope I haven’t gone gray in my old age-how it was.

With love,

Patricia

Prue was overtaken by emotion. She had never read a letter from her mother before, none of them had. In a way it was like talking to her again. It was the goodbye they have never gotten to have.

And the motivation she needed to make a decision. The right decision. Her mother was right, they could not stay here forever. Maybe it wasn’t fair that she got to have a year and leave on her own terms, while they were forced by circumstances to make such a choice. But it was what it was and they had to make due with it.

When she showed the letter to her sisters, she was surprised to see they agreed with her. It was rare for all four of them to share the same opinion. But in Paige’s words: they could not taint their mother’s memory with cowardice.

Still Prue couldn’t help but feel a melancholic stab in the heart when they finally left. She touched the pocket where she had put the letter. She had no plans to part with it anytime soon. She could see the words if she closed her eyes, repeating themselves over and over in her mind. Asking her to take action.

She was absorbed enough by the thought that Piper's hand on her shoulder startled her. Her sister's keen eyes were searching for something in her face, but Prue couldn't figure out what.

"Do you plan to make amends with Andy now?"

Prue was half ashamed to realize that she had barely spared a thought for Andy despite the fact that all their problems could be traced to him. She consoled herself that she had other tasks to occupy her thoughts.

"Perhaps. But later. Now I have someone else to talk to."

At Piper's questioning gaze, Prue felt herself smile like a cat that ate the canary.

"Actually all of us have an important talk ahead of us. I think it's time we remind grandmother that we are not just princesses that can be kept hostage to her whims. We are her granddaughters and neither her nor us should have ever forgotten that."

#charmed #charmed secret santa 2021

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winryofresembool · 2 years

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 42

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: A road trip to Chicago, pt 3/3

A/N: And we're back! This is a relatively fillery (and short) chapter but well, sometimes those are necessary too. We're heading towards the 'bigger' stuff soon, though! (Or that is at least what I hope xD)

Hope you guys enjoy, and remember that feedback is the only way for me to know that someone is still reading this! So please let me know what you think. (I hate saying this every time but it means a lot to me)

Words: 1629

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

“So, what you’re telling us is that you’ve been crushing on each other pretty much ever since you met and finally decided to do something about it during the holidays?” Piper repeated what she had gotten out of Leo and Calypso’s story while the friend group was waiting for Percy at the restaurant.

“I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight,” Calypso denied. “I was quite prejudiced towards Leo when we first met, but hey, he let his dog break my beloved desk! What would you do in that situation?”

“Probably the same thing you did,” Annabeth admitted.

“You could have cut me some slack there,” Leo objected. “Festus is a big, excited dog and he doesn’t know the limits of his strength.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know I love Festus these days. But if someone had obeyed the rules, there wouldn’t have been any incidents in the first place,” Calypso reminded him.

“But I very kindly fixed the desk, the nice person that I am,” Leo pointed out. That caused the others to burst into laughter.

Calypso cleared her throat. “Either way, at some point we realized that hey, maybe my flatmate isn’t quite so bad after all. We noticed we have more in common than what we had first thought, and somehow, I genuinely ended up enjoying spending time with him. Don’t ask me how he did it, but he did.” Then she lowered her voice slightly. “And here’s a secret: on special occasions, he is capable of telling decent jokes.”

“That’s a huge compliment from Cal of all people,” Leo told the others with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah, I’m a little worried that I’m making his ego grow too big.” She ruffled his hair fondly. “I’m trying to be careful, though.”

Leo snorted. “Just so you know, she doesn’t actually talk like this when we’re alone. She just wants you to think that she’s all cold but that ain’t the truth.”

“I’m still not nearly as sappy as he is, no matter what he claims,” Calypso teased

“Alright, I’m not taking part in that debate,” Piper intervened. “But one thing I want to know is who initiated your relationship? For some reason I just can’t picture Leo asking Cal out. Maybe the other way around, though.”

“Actually, I was the one who initiated it,” Leo noted.

Calypso cocked her eyebrow. “But I told you I liked you first! After the Halloween party, remember?”

“Yeah, but that same morning you told me you didn’t want a relationship.You had totally valid reasons for that, yes! But I made it clear I wouldn’t have minded more.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Calypso finally complied, continuing the story: “After that talk it was a bit of a cat and mouse game until the holidays, which was when it kind of just reached the point that we needed to do something about it. Otherwise we would have exploded. So, we had a few bigger arguments – not like our everyday bickering - and eventually Leo’s moms got so done with us that they told us to deal with it. I know, very romantic. It was a good thing they did that, though, because it finally forced us to talk through the things that we had been avoiding. I finally admitted to myself that I was fighting a losing battle and decided to go for it.”

“And then she kissed me. It was a pretty good kiss, even if I say so myself,” Leo grinned, getting amused reactions from his friends.

“Aww, Calypso, he looks like it was the best thing that has ever happened to him,” Piper chuckled.

“I told you, he is sappy like that,” she replied, playfully squishing his cheeks.

“Well, I’m just happy that you guys managed to sort it out. You’re happy now, right?” Piper wanted to know.

Calypso exchanged looks with Leo and nodded. “Yep. Happy.”

…

Maybe 15 minutes after the group of five had arrived at the Italian restaurant, Percy joined them.

“I know it wasn’t exactly what you wanted but the second place is a great achievement,” Calypso addressed him once he had greeted everyone and gotten seated next to Annabeth. “Sorry we left a bit early, we had a bit of a situation going on at the arena.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say but we found them smooching in the car when they thought we wouldn’t be seeing.” Piper rolled her eyes.

“Wait, what? You two?” Percy asked Leo and Calypso, looking more surprised than any of their other friends had looked so far that day after hearing the news.

“Yep,” Leo confirmed.

“Woah, way to go man!” Percy high fived Leo. “That’s great news.” The best part to Leo was that he really did seem happy for them.

“Thanks. I hardly believe it myself,” he admitted. “Uh, hope it isn’t too weird to you? You know, with your past?”

“Nah, it isn’t.” Percy shook his head, a smile on his face. “I’m with Annabeth now and wouldn’t want to have it any other way. I don’t mean any offense to you, Calypso, I just mean maybe things were meant to go this way.” He reached for Annabeth’s hand, giving her what Leo could only describe as a grossly sugary look. But then he realized that he could probably say the same about himself when he looked at Calypso.

“Don’t worry, I get what you mean,” Calypso replied, not having any bitterness in her voice.

“Jason, I hope we weren’t this full of syrup when we were together. It’s kind of gross, if you ask me,” Piper sighed at her ex boyfriend.

“You two were about the grossest couple I’ve ever seen,” Leo pointed out. “Sometimes I doubted you even noticed me leaving the room when you got a little enthusiastic.”

The others laughed at his comment while Piper glared at him.

“Ewww, Leo, that’s not true! We didn’t do that.”

“You did, though,” he claimed.

That debate might have lasted longer, but Leo’s focus went to Calypso who was showing something to Percy from her phone. Leo also glanced at it and saw a picture of the strange men from the swimming arena on some company’s website.

“This might be a weird question, but do these men say anything to you? I mean, do you know who they are?” she asked.

Percy looked at the screen for a moment, frowning a bit before answering. “Yeah. I think they are sponsoring Luke Castellan and Ethan Nakamura but I haven’t really paid that much attention to them. I just know that I’ve seen them at our competitions sometimes.”

“Is it normal for the sponsors to be watching your competitions?” Calypso asked.

Percy considered his answer for a moment. “I mean, it’s not that strange. They do want to know what kind of people are showing off their logos. But mine are not there as often as these guys are, I can say that.”

“I see,” Calypso said, putting her phone away.

Leo wasn’t sure if Percy’s answer was good news or not. Sure, it did prove that the men had an actual reason to be in the audience but Calypso still seemed a bit concerned. Ethan Nakamura had cheated in that day’s competition and if these people were happy to team up with someone like him, what else were they willing to do? Did they have something against Percy and if so, why?

Calypso seemed to have a similar track of thoughts: “I’m only asking because I happen to know these people. They are working with my dad so he knows them pretty well… They used to visit the mansion sometimes when I was still stuck there. I can’t help but wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Percy questioned.

“This is going to sound really paranoid,” Calypso started slowly, “but I wonder if my father has some connection to this whole situation. Could there be a possibility that these people are teaming up with your rivals because they know you had – and still have – a connection to me?”

“But… I never met your father? Did you ever mention me to him back when we used to chat a lot?”

“No, not even once,” Calypso said. “But somehow, even so… he’s a mastermind at getting the information he wants. Maybe he forced our maid to tell him about my trip with you, or something like that.”

“That’s really messed up. What kind of person would do that?” Percy narrowed his eyes.

Calypso sighed. “I thought we had already established that he is not exactly a normal person. But what I’m really trying to say is: be careful. If those people know who you are and if they know about your connection to me, who knows what they might be planning.”

“Alright. I will keep that in my mind.”

“Well, this just got cheerful,” Leo broke the silence that had fallen among the friends after Percy’s words. “Babe, remember that we are all on your side. If something was to happen, we’d be prepared. But now I need to confess something: all this worrying is making me pretty hungry. So how about we order?” He pushed the menus in front of everyone before turning to Percy. “Hey, world championships, man? That’s pretty awesome. It’s not exactly every day you get to do something like that.”

A grin returned on Percy’s face. “Oh, yeah. You’re absolutely right there. Do you think they have blue drinks to celebrate that?”

“Hope they do,” Annabeth said and started reading through the menu. Everyone followed her example and focused on their meals, leaving the topic of Calypso’s father behind. Leo could sense from her downcast eyes, though, that it was still bothering her even as they left the restaurant a couple of hours later.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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takahero · 3 years

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in honour of finishing inkspell, here are some basta observations I picked up along the way. also, inkspell spoilers warning! i also have MANY MANY thoughts so i’d love to hear what you guys think to some of the questions raised

“He hadn’t changed: the same thin face, the same way of narrowing his eyes, and there was an amulet dangling around his neck to ward off the bad luck that Basta thought lurked under every ladder, behind every bush.” — pg.138

“Basta’s left hand was bandaged, Elinor noticed when he took his fingers away from her mouth.” — pg.139

“‘I’d have been here much sooner, believe you me, but they put me in jail for a while on account of something that happened years ago. No sooner was Capricorn gone than all the people who’d been too scared to open their mouths suddenly felt very brave.’” — pg.140 (see they never tell us WHY he was in prison, do they? the possibilities are endless. we know he committed atrocious things, like arson, but imagine if he got put in jail for something completely different…LOL)

“‘You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve told him there’s nothing to be ashamed of in going to jail, particularly when your prisons here are so much more comfortable than our dungeons at home.’” — pg.140 (OHHHTMGOD MEME IDEA)

“Basta flung his arm so roughly round Orpheus’ neck that his glasses slipped down his nose.” — pg.141

“‘Hold your tongue, Basta!’ Mortola interrupted him abruptly. ‘You’ve always liked the sound of your own voice.’” — pg.141

“‘Well, Silvertongue, I’m sorry it’s taken some time,’ he said in his soft, cat-like voice.” — pg.180

“‘My son always said revenge was a dish best eaten cold,’ observed Mortola.” — pg.181 (question. did basta find out about mortola’s true identity between inkheart & inkspell? do u think he realised it when mortola cried when capricorn died?)

“Basta passed a finger over his throat and winked at him.” — pg.186 (wink 2 LMAO)

“Basta bent down and picked up a rusty helmet lying at his feet. ‘What do you expect me to say?’ he growled, throwing the helmet back into the grass with a gloomy expression, and giving it a kick that sent it clattering against the wall. ‘Of course it’s our castle. Didn’t you see the figure of the goat on the wall there? Even the carved devils are still standing, though they wear ivy crowns now — and look, there’s one of the eyes that Slasher liked to paint on the stones.’” — pg.190

“‘So Basta was right after all. He’s dead, here and in the other world too.’” — pg.191 (interesting….so Basta knew Mortola’s plan wouldn’t work? he just wanted a ride home?)

“‘I’d really like to know what happened!’ he muttered. ‘I always said Capricorn wasn’t here, but what about the others?…What are we going to do if they’re all gone?’ Basta sounded like a boy afraid of the dark. ‘Do you want us to live in a cave like brownies until the wolves find us? Have you forgotten the wolves? And the Night-Mares, the fire-elves, all the other creatures crawling around the place…I for one haven’t forgotten them, but you would come back to this accursed spot where there are ghosts lurking behind every tree!’ He reached for the amulet dangling around his neck, but Mortola did not deign to look at him.

“‘Oh, be quiet!’ she said, so sharply that Basta flinched.” — pg.192

“‘You’re going to leave them here?’ That was Basta’s voice.” — pg.193 (at first I was like oh so he has a heart….but then he was mean to resa straight after this 🙄)

“‘Sorry, but he must have overlooked me, shut up in that cage as I was,’ purred Basta in his catlike voice.” — pg.377

“‘Wasn’t it Mortola who had you put in the cage to be fed to the Shadow?’ Basta just shrugged his shoulders and flung back his silver-grey cloak. Of course, he had his knife. A brand new one, it seemed, finer than any he’d ever had in the other world, and undoubtedly just as sharp.

“‘Yes, not very nice of her,’ he said as his fingers caressed the handle of the knife. ‘But she’s really sorry.’” — pg.377 (okay so it SOUNDS like he threatened/made some kind of bargain with his knife, but I strongly doubt that considering how afraid he seems of her?? i know he’s technically working for the adderhead but even by the end of the book, it seems he is far closer to mortola than adderhead. what is their relationship? or does he sincerely think she’s sorry/has deluded himself into believing such? UGH SO MANY QUESTIONS)

“Basta had always liked describing his own and other people’s abominable deeds in detail.” — pg.378

“‘But we’re not going to shoot you.’ Basta came a little closer to Fenoglio, his face as intent as that of a stalking cat.” — pg.378 …. living for all the cat references tbh

“‘He wants you to crawl on your belly to him, that’s what our noble lord and master likes. But never mind, he pays well!’” — pg.378 (yes basta all abt getting that bread LMAOOOO)

“He slowly drew the knife from his belt. Its blade was long and slightly curved.” — pg.379

“‘Hey Basta, I know you like the sound of your own voice.’” — pg.379 (AHAHAHAHA HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE CALLED OUT BASTA ON THIS NOW? IVE LOST TRACK)

“With a regretful sigh, Basta put the knife back in his belt. ‘Yes, very well, you’re right,’ he said in surly tones. ‘I need to take my time with this sort of thing. Questioning people is an art, a real art.’” — pg.380 (LMAOOOOOOO HE IS SUCH A DRAMA QUEEN)

“Basta. The same thin face, the same twisted smile. Only the clothes were different. Basta was no longer wearing his white shirt and black suit with the flower in his buttonhole. No, Basta now wore the Adderhead’s silvery grey, and he had a sword at his side. With a knife in his belt too, of course. But he was holding a dead chicken in his left hand.” — pg. 455

“‘Yes, they are!’ purred Basta. ‘The little witch, and the fire-eater into the bargain. It was well worth the wait. Even though I’ll probably never get that damned flour out of my lungs again.’” — pg.455 (ok….so who’s gonna draw basta sitting amongst the flour AAHHAHA)

“‘Servant? Who’s a servant here? Just listen to him. As bold as if he’d never felt my knife! Have you forgotten how you screamed when it cut your face?’” — pg.457 … don’t call basta a servant…..noted

“‘Oh, don’t look so disbelieving, little witch, I still can’t read and I don’t intend to learn, but there are enough fools around the place who can, even in this world.’” —pg. 457 (i wonder how much capricorn influenced basta’s views on reading. because capricorn said that he learnt how to read from a maid, right? so basta certainly wouldn’t have trash-talked reading in front of him. and even after living in OUR world for nine years, I’m still surprised that he never attempted to learn, given how dependent we are on it. anyway my headcanon is that he secretly wants to, but doesn’t want to give others the satisfaction of knowing they have something he doesn’t. also nobody he knows would be willing to teach him (unless he threatened them) bc of his obviously violent and short-tempered nature…and learning requires so much patience. still, though, would love a fic of basta being taught how to read in secret and having some kind of positive interaction)

“‘You’re even more talkative than you used to be, Basta.’ Dustfinger’s voice sounded as if he found this tedious.” — pg.458 HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH IM DYING. honestly the animosity between them was just. A+++

“Basta was in an even worse state. He was sitting close to Mortola, his face so red and swollen that Meggie almost failed to recognise him. But he had escaped death once again. Perhaps the good-luck charms he always wore worked after all.” — pg.526

“The sunlight falling into the room made Basta’s face look like a boiled lobster.” — pg.575

“Basta put his hand to the amulet hanging around his neck. It was not a rabbit’s paw, as he had worn in Capricorn’s service, but something that looked suspiciously like a human finger-bone.” — pg.581 (THIS STILL IRKS ME SO MUCH)

“The Piper straightened his back, as ready to attack as the viper on his master’s coat of arms…He was a good head taller than Basta.” — pg.582 WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING HES NOT TALL LMFAO

“The two men were standing so close that the blade of Basta’s knife wouldn’t have fitted between them.” — pg.582 HAHAHAJAHAAJAHAHHAAHAHAHAH PKESJENE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH … IMAGINE BASTA SQUARING UP W HIS NOSE JUST SMACK BANG IN THE MIDDLE OF PIPER’S CHEST OR SOMETHING

“The Piper struck Basta in the face so hard that his head hit the door frame. Blood ran down his burned cheek in a trail of red. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. ‘Take care to avoid dark corridors, Piper!’ he whispered. ‘You don’t have a nose any more, but one can always find something else to cut off.’” — pg.582-583 THIS SCENE WAS SIMPLY……CHEF’S KISS

are you serious is he dead??? WHAT. okay I knew dustfinger’s love for farid would be the end of him and basta being the instrument to rip that away from him was totally heartrending. i WISH it had been more climactic? like dustfinger unleashing his fury and fighting basta, blind with anger and grief. THE DIALOGUE POTENTIAL BETWEEN THEM AS THEY FINALLY TALK ONE-ON-ONE, and then some revisiting of the scene where dustfinger has the opportunity to kill basta but AGAIN withholds because killing is not in his nature….THEN MO IN SHINING ARMOUR SWOOPS IN TO DO THE JOB

now, off to inkdeath!

#inkspell #inkspell spoilers #basta #inkheart trilogy #BASTAAAAAA

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solace-seekers · 3 years

Note

wait omg i would be so interested in your mortal!nico and demigod!will au ideas 👀

omg i’m so happy someone wants to learn about this cause i have dedicated way too much of my life to this

i have written out a few small scenes for this and i will probably focus and start posting it after my Will tartarus fic is done, so this is just gonna be a bunch of bullet points that will evenetailly make their way into a fic hopefully

also adding a read more cause this is long !

okay so Will is still a child of Apollo born to Naomi in Texas

i think i had a specific town that he came from at one point but i didn’t write it down but it’s a small town, everyone knows everyone type of beat

when he was 7 he took the 1800 mile trip to camp half blood with a young satyr and a dagger that he barely knew how to use

i haven’t decided what makes him leave or if naomi dies yet but he does become a year round camper

when he gets to camp he’s in the hermes cabin

he heals a major wound on clarisse at 7 but still isn’t claimed

chiron sees this 7 year olds major power for good and deicides that Will is a special case that needs to be educated and can be used in the mortal world. so he deicdes to send Will to a mortal school

in first grade we meet nico and most of the gang that goes to the mortal school that Will was transferred to

nico Will percy annabeth grover leo and piper are in the same class/grade, jason reyna and frank are in the same grade but a different class, hazels a grade below, and thalia and bianca are in 4th grade

Will talks about his ~month journey to get to NY from texas and then gets seated next to Nico and Percy

Will gets there in the middle of the year, not sure of an exact time yet

if you can’t tell that’s the part i’ve written out almost fully

second grade happens and the main difference is Will has a necklace with a weird symboled bead on it that he doesn’t talk about

third grade there’s another bead yada yada you get the pattern

Will spends two years in the hermes cabin sleeping on the floor between bunks before he’s claimed and moved to the Apollo cabin

while the Apollo cabin is crowded, he gets his own bunk for the first time and it takes him a month to get used to it and occasionally he’ll still sleep on the floor cause the bunk feels weird

personality wise, at school Will is pretty quiet and cautious, kinda terrified that he’ll let a secret slip and also terrified of having to use the dagger in his backpack because one of his classmates turns out to be a monster

he actually gets to be a bit more confident as nothing bad happens and you see Nico and him start a kinda friendship

but then the battle of labyrinth happens

i’m pretty sure the battle takes place in summer?? i’m not entirely sure tho but we’re gonna act like it does

so Will returns to school obviously haunted from the battle, he’s more cautious and skittish and all the progress of friendship he seemed to have made is lost

he has an extra bracelet on his wrist, with a singular bead. this is based off my headcannon that the apollo cabin wears a wrist bracelet with a bead for every sibling they personally knew and lost. Lee’s bead is the first bead on Wills

this is a good time to mention that Will just completely disappears during the summers as far as his mortal peers are concerned

also, everyone mentioned by name earlier that are mortals can see through the mist because they were demigods in a past life

and why all the same battle events and war things will happen is because basically the books happen but everyone has a slightly different name

so yes, perry johansen is the savior of camp half blood in this au

also Will does play a part in quests normally in this au cause i said so and they’re actually smart enough to send a medic with quests so when will gets older (by demigod standards so like 10 or 11 or something like that, haven’t decided yet) he’ll randomly miss school and returns with random scrapes and shit cause he doesn’t let people “waste” medical stuff on him

the year after the labyrinth obviously the battle of manhattan happens the next year

this completely destroys Will

he returns to school a week or so late with obvious bruises and scars and cuts and wraps and while his necklace has increased in its usual one bead fashion, his wrist bracelet has a bunch more beads

(michael was not the only kin of apollo to die)

Will overall becomes much more of a weird figure at school, he talks to no one, he responds to his last name roll call too alert for a high school, he still disappears randomly with no warning, his eyes are haunted, his number of scars grows and no one can make sense of him

yet he still gets practically perfect grades

Nico basically is interested by Will and even as Will shuts everyone out he continues to watch from the side and try to subtly be his friend

this has been happening since they first met in first grade

i don’t know where this scene will go, but during elementary or middle school they have one of those field days and everyone gets a popsicle as they hang out outside

Will has a red one, but he doesn’t eat it. nico watches as Will stares panicked at the red juice running down his fingers until the popsicle melts off the stick

also, in addition to being more closed off, Will cares less what teachers think of him

because he’s fought in literal wars, he doesn’t really care for authority anymore, not when he’s held his siblings in his hands, watching the blood drain from their skull wilhelm the light fades out their eyes

so he’s called out on an emergency quest or something during math class on the fourth floor (if you’ve seen my himbo Will posts you might know where this is going)

so Will, who doesn’t give a fuck starts packing up his shit and then goes to leave the class (he got notified on his illegal phone)

the teacher is outraged and says that he’s not allowed to take a step out of the door or he’ll get an f for the class for the entire year

so Will smiles, says ‘good luck with that’ and fucking runs and jumps out the window

everyone’s shocked and runs to the window (nico included)

they see Will hit the ground and roll, before getting up and sprinting towards the road. a strawberry van with an open door appears and they see a hand reach out to help Will in before shutting the door, never slowing or stopping, just hoping that Will makes it there in time

everyone is rightfully freaked the fuck out but the teacher doesn’t damage his grade and he makes no comment on it when he returns, in fact, nico seems to be the only one to remember the event

one day Wills ride (argus) doesn’t appear so Will just starts attempting to walk home but Nico offers him a ride

Will knows he should say no but he went on a quest the day before and he’s tired so he agrees

they get ambushed halfway to camp by monsters. Will fights them off and Nico has a realization about why Will has certain quirks

Will explains demigodness to Nico after finding out he can see through the mist

they become friends from there where Will is incorporated with their friend group

this happens before the war with gaea

then Wills fighting in yet another war

and when he comes back with more wrist beads he finally explains the bracelet to Nico

overall Nicos friend group works to kinda create a safety space for Will at school because at this point he’s So Done

and this is about as far as i’ve thought it out, i’m still deciding on how i wanna finish it but i hope you liked it!

#long post #hoo #pjo #pjo/hoo #will solace #not hades (game)#nico di angelo #sorry this is a lot #thebigqueer asks

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deithe · 3 years

Text

the bones (2,847 words) (1/1)

(an introspective on jason grace. kind of?)

read here on ao3 or read below the cut!

jason falls in love with the human equivalent of a forest fire

(his mother fell in love with the sky itself)

jason grace grew up being told that his destiny was very, very simple.

his first and most important mission, handed down to him from lady juno and mother lupa, was that jason was destined to save rome. that his destiny lay with new rome and camp jupiter, a new romulus to lead the pack to greatness. he would spill so much blood in new rome’s name that the little tiber would overflow and the gods would crown him with a golden laurel made from monster ichor.

he would be everything everyone else needed.

a spear for the senate, a shield for new rome, a standard to replace the one that had been lost, a sword for the gods to wield, and another pack member for lupa. he would be the perfect soldier, a demigod fashioned by two god-mothers for the simple act of being a weapon.

his second duty was that jason was to be nothing like his father.

his father, evil, unpredictable, selfish and cruel, was to be jason’s antithesis. lady juno stressed this, as did the senate, as did his praetors (though praetor saville jason eventually killed in battle, so jason doesn’t take her words to heart anymore). jason was never, ever to be like his father. all sons of jupiter before him were either driven insane or were killed, and jason’s great destiny could not afford for him to do either of those things.

‘hubris’ lady juno once told him, while going through his latin lessons in the damp cold of the den (or wolf house, as she called it), ‘is the thing that kills sons of jupiter’.

so jason was to never be prideful, but at the same time, never to believe he was inferior. he was to be subservient but never meek, he was to be a capable fighter but never violent. he was to be kind but not a pushover. open but not flirtatious.

he was to be perfect. he could not afford anything else.

then he, in the span of a few months, murdered his prateor after finding out she was a traitor, watched his friend be assaulted by a family legacy of prophetic visions which turned him into a paranoid asshole, watched his other friend assume a leadership role, one which he tried to refuse, and fought an army, killed a titan and toppled kronos’ black throne.

he also became praetor and then was promptly kidnapped by lady juno, leaving said other friend with all the responsibility.

then any and all plans the gods had for him were ruined by a daughter of aphrodite with eyes like the earth and a son of hephaestus with a smile like war.

how could jason be the perfect soldier when his loyalties no longer lay with new rome? he loved his home, he loved his siblings-in-arms, he loved the legion-

he loved leo and piper more than the breath in his lungs, than the sky and earth and more than his destiny. he loved them enough to try and find whatever scraps of himself he had. to create something they could love too.

(heracles killed himself after accidentally killing his family. love killed him in the end)

and so, jason failed in his first mission. he could no longer put new rome above them, above camp half-blood.

jason doesn’t think becoming his father is an option for him, however. his father is prideful and arrogant and his father's likeness, he will eventually learn, belongs only to his prodigal sister.

and so, jason grace finds his last name, a family he never knew, friends he could die for and an empty cabin that seemed less lonely with leo or piper in it.

then they went on a quest, leo built a ship and they all set sail to stop gaia from rising.

then jason lost leo, then jason lost everything, then jason lost himself and then lost piper-

and, in the middle of winter, leo valdez came crashing down on a metal dragon with eyes like a nuclear explosion and teeth made for tearing meat from bone, or tearing jason’s heart from his chest.

and then jason found himself again in the space between the junction between leo valdez's fourth and fifth ribs.

leo valdez is a lot of things. he’s a son of hephaestus and a complete asshole. he’s the first child of hephaestus to be born with the ability to create and control fire in over 400 years. he’s a 5’4ft guy who wears platformed boots to make himself seem taller. he’s so powerful that he obliterated gaia. he’s a genius. he thinks spraying axe bodyspray on himself is the same as a shower. he overworks himself even when he doesn’t have to. he can fight gods and go toe-to-toe with any big three kid and hold his own. he likes to survive on a diet of mango monster energy and takis. he's obnoxious. he's thoughtful. he makes mean-spirited jokes at other people's expense. he's the best person jason's ever met

he’s-

currently late for their date.

It’s not that jason minds, per se, but leo has a nasty habit of getting so completely lost in his work that he can plan a date for the next day, and jason won’t see him for at least three days. it’s one of the downsides of being the trophy boyfriend of a genius.

jason sighs and rocks back on his heels, eyes darting up to the grey, overcast sky. he can almost hear leo in his head, asking if he could pretty please make it less goddamn cold? and his pout when jason refuses to change the weather for him.

it's not that jason won't. it's just that he can't. it makes aeolus snappy.

sometimes he still does it. manipulates the air currents just enough to warm the air around them and leo smiles, a real one, small and soft. like it wasn't meant to be seen. a secret thing, just for jason.

jason doesn't see leo smile like that often.

it's mid-february in new york and jason is kicking around central park in the grey mid-day light. it's quiet, this part of the park, with barely anyone passing jason as he leans against a tree, wet dew dripping into his unstyled hair. it's cold, but not cold enough for a freeze or snow. just the right amount of cold to turn your hands numb and purple from cold

which. if you've never seen leo 'was raised in texas and has fire powers' valdez in new york snow, jason fully believes you've never lived.

he spends another 30 minutes splitting his time from staring into space and wandering around the meeting spot they've arranged. it's peaceful here. jason can even hear some birds twittering and chirping in the trees above. the cold even stops bothering him. jason likes being alone sometimes.

it reminds him of the lupercal and lupa. long days and nights in the loneliness of the redwood forest. just him and the wolves and the stars.

though now jason has sturdy boots and a wool jacket, so not exactly the same.

he's in the middle of trying to coax a timid sparrow onto the hand, crouched on the balls of his feet when he feels a presence beside him. he goes stiff when he realises and then, like all the tension has been zapped out of him, goes relaxed again.

"that," leo whispers, also crouched beside jason, "is one fat fucking bird"

jason represses a grin, "don't say that. he's probably barely eaten all winter," and leo snorts, moving closer to jason so their shoulders brush. the bird regards leo with some caution but his black, beady eyes seem to acknowledge that jason would keep him safe.

"he looks better fed than me, jace. do you care more about this bird than your own poor boyfriend?" leo says, faux-sadness in his voice, "how cruel, jason grace. how cruel".

jason turns in time to see leo shake his head, black curls wild around his face as they shudder like leaves in the wind. his eyes are dark brown, watching the bird watch leo. a staring contest.

leo says his name like no one else does. like it's a name. like it's good. like it's something familiar and warm. he does not say 'jason' and imagine a great hero or a wolf-boy with no past. he does not say 'grace' like a joke, like grasp for power, like it carries too much weight for his tongue to bare.

he says it like it belongs to jason. he says it like it's important. not too fast, but not too slow.

leo turns his head to find jason staring at him.

"jason" he calls, lips quirking up at the edge, pulling out the 'o' like toffee, "i know i'm pretty irresistible but please, keep your longing stares for the bedroom"

jason shoves up against leo's shoulder, blush bursting across his already red-cold face.

he pushes just slightly too hard and leo goes spilling across the wet grass, yelping in surprise.

"jason!" he yells, looking up at jason half shocked and half in amusement. "what the fuck, dude!"

jason can't help himself.

leo is wearing jason's hoodie, the black one mrs.blofis picked out for jason which leo claimed as his own even before they started dating. his new denim, fur-lined jacket (from the hide of the nemean lion they killed last year) is just slightly too big and he's wearing black jeans. he looks like the college freshman he is. he looks mortal.

he looks human. he has leaves in his hair and his cheeks are flushed from the cold, teeth showing through the toothy smile he's giving and-

it's uncanny, sometimes, how well they can pass for normal. you almost can't tell leo's died and come back to life. you almost can't tell he's more powerful than any living mortal.

almost.

jason falls on top of leo in the wet grass, which causes leo to yelp, again, and knee jason in the stomach.

jason groans "dude, what the hades was that for?" and he rolls of leo, onto the wet grass beside him, arms protectively covering his bruised stomach.

"you fell directly on top of me, you big lug," and leo sits up, picking a leaf out of his curls absentmindedly, "if you haven't noticed, you're like a bean-pole with muscle mass. that shit hurts!"

jason pouts up at leo, who manages to look both unimpressed and fond. he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to jason, who accepts and leo hauls him into a sitting position in front of him

"hi, leo" jason says finally, "you're late"

"i'm not late, loser, you're just a nerd and get places earlier than normal people. its super weird," leo tells him, matter-of-factly, scooting closer to him as they sit on the ground. "you should really get it checked. might be terminal nerdiness. the glasses are just the first sign"

jason raises an eyebrow, curviving over said glasses. "i didn't know it could be terminal. oh well, guess i'll just wither away and die from being punctual. what an injust life i lead. how the sorrows never end"

leo pouts, eyes sparking with enough warmth to keep out the cold for decades to come, "don't be so down about it, I hear being a nerd has perks,"

jason moves closer, so his knees are half-pulled up to his chest and he's balancing his weight on his hand. leo fits perfectly in the bracket of his arms.

"oh? do tell?" he asks, and leo is close enough that jason can see the faint freckles on his cheeks. they're fading from how far away leo has been from the sun, but jason loves them anyways.

"yup," leo says, popping the p and smiling like the cat who got the cream. "do you know that all nerds get super hot and funny and sexy boyfriends? as compensation for being such nerds, of course"

jason pulls back his head a bit, just as leo laces his arms around his shoulders, "really?" and his voice is soft, but the smile won't disappear from his lips, "wow, didn't know that. guess I'm lucky that you're such a huge nerd or-"

leo kisses him like coming home. and in a way it is.

jason has known many homes. he's known the small apartment with his mother that smelt like spilt wine and smoke and mold. he's known the lupercal and the redwood forests around it. he's known the barracks at camp jupiter and the feeling of purpose in his chest. he's known cabin 1 and cabin 9 and bunker 9 and on the back of festus and on the argo. he's known the feeling of reyna laughing as he tells her wild stories and of the fifth cohort raising him on their shields. he's known lying in leo's private room with piper and leo, listening to low music and feeling safe with just them.

but the one person who jason has felt like home since they met was leo. his high ground through the tsunami. his parachute during a plane crash. the one point of home. like the north-star.

jason smiles into the kiss, his free hand tangling itself in the rough fabric of leo's dark blue denim jacket. it's soft and chaste, more a press of warm lips than anything. it's comforting. it's familiar. it's everything he wants.

leo pulls back a bit, just far enough to speak but still close enough that his breath brushes up against jason's cold face. "hi," he says, brushing his nose against his, "missed you, bro".

jason snorts, "i missed you too, leo, how's MIT treating you?"

"like i'm it's bitch is how it's treating me," leo tells him, slumping slightly into jason, forehead against jason's. "can we not talk about college? i think if we talk about college I might start crying and then our date will be ruined"

jason pulls back a bit to look at leo. he does look more tired than usual, eye-bags darker and lips bitten from nervousness. he frowns, using his free hand to cup his face. "are you okay? we can just go back to your dorm if you're too tired-"

"ugh, no way" leo groans, "fuck that. i just wanna spend time with you, okay? i wanna be mushy and all that gay shit. i want bad food and to kiss you again and again and do more than kissing-"

jason rolls his eyes.

"-and then go back to mrs.blofis apartment and watch really bad movies you like for some reason and then i'll go to sleep beside you and it'll be gay and shit"

"gay and shit?"

"gay and shit, you better believe it grace. but first-"

and leo untangles himself from jason and stands up, brushing the dirt from his knees leaving jason frowning on the floor.

he offers out his hand, brown skin calloused from work, long, thin fingers curled slightly as the palm faced upwards.

"c'mon, super, treat your louis lane to some greasy new york food before he decides batman has better pay"

jason is so, so lucky he got leo valdez. that the fates decides to make sure that his destiny crosses leo's. that he convinced leo valdez to let down his walls, to stay, that jason wouldn't leave him like the others, or hurt him or betray him.

that jason was in it for as long as leo wanted him to be. that jason only wanted leo to say his name, wanted to give it to leo because leo's the only one who's mouth jason trusts with it. that jason wanted to give leo his past. wanted to show him and tell him where he got each scar.

he trusts leo with this. he trusts leo's hands to not burn it all to ash. because he knows that if leo wanted to, he could. he could burn jason alive with a thought. turn him to ash and glass with a flick of his hand.

jason has fallen in love with a nuclear bomb, with a supernova of a boy and jason doesn't care if it kills him, because he has spent so long pretending to be what everyone else needed, that now he was going to be who he wanted to be. even if it got him killed. even if it burned him alive.

jason grace has fallen in love with the human version of a forest fire. he should be afraid of it, of leo. he is not. he never will be.

beryl grace fell in love with the sky itself. wanted all the stars in heaven and didn't care what happened to her. as long as she knew she had the stars attention. as long as she knew the sky loved her back.

as long as he knew the fire loved him back.

he takes his hand.

#my writing #jason grace #fanfic #hoo #toa has no power over me i do as i please #leo valdez #valgrace

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starrysupercell · 3 years

Text

Brawlers' Pets Headcanon Dump!! (Some are canon but I just go into detail)

I've left out most of the ones I've covered in depth already, which include the Townsfolk Trio (1, 2, 3, 4,), Buzz and Surge, (1, 2) The Coworkers (not mine originally, but I’m on board!!) and Mortis.

Shelly: Used to have a pet chicken when she was younger that she saved from being slaughtered. The bird followed her around everywhere and lived a full happy life. Lived to an old chicken age ❤

Currently, she has Kit, a lil tiny kitten. She spoils her greatly. Superb pet owner! She trusts only a few people to watch her cat, which includes Primo, Piper, Edgar and Lou. ...I can see Colt being mildly allergic to cats tbh, so he's off the table... (He will either still pet and fawn over Kit and deal with the slight repercussions, or he's one of those folks who refuse to admit that cats are cute in their own way. Can't decide yet!)

Also since Princess Shelly has that Frog gun, she'll probably get a pet frog soon too!

~☆~

Lou: One secret Sugar Glider named Cane that he lets roam around in the Snowtel against Mr. P's wishes. He's a good pet owner, but sometimes he loses track of the cutie because of the free range he allows her. Shenanigans arise when P feels something shifty is going on. Gale has his back if he's in the know, however. He will say "No, I haven't seen anything strange, Mr. P." to his boss' face while seeing the Sugar Glider descending to Lou from the second floor into his hands.

Once, Lou had to hide Cane inside his machinery for a couple of minutes while P was around. It felt 😵 absolutely awful. Ever since then, he's taken to being more mindful of her. It IS irresponsible to have Cane roaming around in a large place without supervision.

~☆~

Gale: Pet snake named Twister. He's a decent owner, and would be better if he weren't so overworked. He does make time for him as best as he can. Luckily, if push comes to shove, he's found that if he mentions his lament to see his pet snake around/to fellow pet snake owner Byron, there will either be a personal offer for extra caretaking or Mr. P will be sent a notice encouraging more leeway for his employee.

~☆~

Mike: a Canary named Canary. The funny/odd thing about Mike is that he CLAIMS to be a grumpy fellow, but there's no supporting evidence of that anywhere! Birds take time and patience to train (personal experience), and Canary is so attached to him, so why u lying, Mike??

Anyway, he does not let anyone handle Canary at all. I think I said before that he would trust Jacky with her, but I changed my mind. There's just no convincing him! He's also a top notch owner because birds don't like loud noises and that's why he keeps Canary under his hard hat.

~☆~

Belle: a horse named Elodie. The one we see in the GA animation! Elodie is dependable, fierce and used to the fast paced lifestyle Belle puts her through. Elodie gets regular coat brushes, healthy diet, exercise (+ extra when she's brought for a heist).

If anyone else tries to ride her, Elodie will simply not budge... Not unless Belle outright hands her reins to somebody else. A tough horse for a wild gal. (Oh, I've technically covered her, but it's okay.)

~☆~

Emz: Pet *inhales* OPOSSUM. You can't change my mind 💜💜 Her name is Molly. She found her when Uncle Frank made her take out the trash (because she will learn to do basic household chores) And she came across a lil baby possum trying to climb up a tree nearby. "EW." She said, but it was fuzzy and cute and the ears looked too big for its head.... anyway it took a while to be able to catch the skittish creature. She brought her inside and the rest is history. (She forgot to put the trash in the can. Frank was disappointed, but Ash was way way worse.)

~☆~

Jessie: Pam and (mostly) Nani said no to a real pet, but ever-crafty Jessie came up with Scrappy! The other Turrets in her Skins are all different robots too with different names and personalities, as I've covered before!

I also like to think that when she's older and lives with Penny (or a different partner/on her own, depending on your preference, but Watter Canon under this roof 😤), she gets a real dog. Border Collie, perhaps. And Penny would probably get a noisy Parrot. Of course, that's wayyy into the future... post Starr Park~

~☆~

Stu- Frilled-neck Lizard! Since Edgar has a Tarantula, someone needed a lizard. And like. This is just so fitting tbh. I can't explain it. He found the lizard as he was just rolling along one day and picked it up and took him home.

I don't know what's going through Stu's head but he probably named the boy something like Rocket Blast Extravaganza. He takes really great care of him and presses his face against the glass tank to stare at him adoringly. He looked up how to take care of reptiles properly. He Will get another one soon.

~☆~

As a recap for the Fantasy AU!

Wizard Byron’s Owl/Familiar is named Eglantine, and Barley’s Unicorn Steer is named Hana. (Y’all will look at them because I love their names, I put effort.)

~☆~

...Loan Shark Byron has one or two sharks bc he’s crazy.

#Brawl Stars #Too Many Brawlers #Headcanons #Pets #Surge's pet is still Max btw /j #I hope that's all the pet posts I've made!!!

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troddensodden · 3 years

Text

what i immediately think of you based on your favorite fallout 4 companion:

or maybe a better title would have been what i think based on the companion you relate to the most? im not sure that just doesnt have a good ring to it

anyway

- cait: you come across as a violent, or generally brash person, but are good at heart. your violence or harsh tendencies likely have a reason behind them. you probably had something in your past where people who you trusted ended up betraying you, or someone you idolized turned out to be someone completely different. and this had an impact on you, causing you to protect yourself in the easiest way you know—pushing people away. because if you don't have anyone important to you, then you can't go through the same thing again. (or you just like her accent. valid.) just remember, even if some people have hurt you, not everyone will. there are people who care. just let them in. don't be afraid to be vulnerable, that shows that you're truly strong.

- codsworth: you're a pretty sentimental person and struggle to leave the past behind. which, while sweet, may get in your way sometimes. but generally you are a nice person. you like to help people out, but the main source of pleasure you gain from that is the satisfaction of knowing you helped someone, rather than the happiness of just knowing that person was helped. your sentimentality likely originates from some sort of loss, whether big or small. remember, you have people in your corner. you can rely on them.

- curie: either you're into science or philosophy, or you like accents. but most likely you're a pretty sweet person. you like to help people, but it probably ends up being self-sacrificial quite often even if you don't realize it. take care of yourself!! you're important too, the satisfaction of helping other people wont be enough to help you in the long run, and you need to acknowledge that. you probably help people and use that as a scapegoat for someone you weren't able to help well enough, whether that person is you or someone else, and end up overlooking your own needs. prioritize yourself first, allow yourself to be the most important person in your life.

- paladin danse: either you like the military, or you only played the brotherhood storyline so you could have him. also, you probably have some deep-rooted insecurity based in everyone seeing you as different and judging you for it, but you don't do anything to counter it and end up avoiding people as a whole because of it. you may think of other people as too much effort, or too confusing, or generally just not worth it when there are more important things to be done. you look up to those stronger than you, and look down on those weaker than you, and use that to shape yourself. you end up leaving the real you behind, so that maybe other people will think you're just as strong as the people you admire. but you don't have to be strong all the time. its okay.

- deacon: you're secretive. not because you necessarily have anything to hide, but to protect yourself. you may have opened up to someone in the past and then lost them, or been betrayed, and now find it difficult to be honest about yourself. opening up about yourself to anyone is a sign of great trust, and something that doesn't happen often, so you have a hard time doing it at all, but especially after being hurt because of it. you keep your heart close to your chest, and hide it behind humor and lies, because at least you don't have to be honest when you're cracking jokes. a lot of these jokes are probably pretty self-deprecating, a way of venting your struggle without having to truly bare yourself to anybody. but you don't have to lie to keep people around. people will love you just as much if you're true to yourself.

- dogmeat: you're a bit of a lone wolf. whether it's for a serious reason or just a dislike for people, you find it much simpler to be by yourself. you may have trouble trusting people, or even just issues working with people because of conflict. but as much as it may seem easier to just avoid people as a whole, you cant do that forever. if you let people in, and you trust them, they'll trust you too. it will help you out in the long run. (or hey! maybe you just like dogs. thats valid.)

- hancock: you're a very accepting person. you let people open up to you, make yourself a safe space for anyone who might need it. but you don't open yourself up to others, out of fear that maybe they'll see your flaws and leave you. as accepting as you are, you struggle to accept parts of yourself, and assume others wont be able to either. you struggle to think you're good enough, and so instead you make yourself a blank slate in a way, for people to interpret however they want. you disregard yourself, your personality, your past, and try to start anew without actually resolving any of your history. which may work fine for a while, but eventually it will stack up. it never left, you just tucked it away. you need to confront your past before working on the future. accept yourself and others will too.

- maccready: you're also quite a sentimental person, but in another way. you can't leave the past behind, because it changed you. you want things to go back to the way they were, so you can maybe change the way things went, change the things you did, but you can't. furthermore, you find the world immensely unfair, and it is. and as much as you may wish things were different, they arent, and theres nothing you can do now to fix it. whether you want to forget or not, the memories stick with you, and continuously remind you what you "could have done," even if you couldn't truly have changed the outcome. forgive yourself. its okay to remember, but it's not okay to dwell on the past and keep hurting yourself over it. the past happened, but the future is still being built. live your life.

- nick valentine: you're a very giving person, and enjoy helping people. however, you can hold a grudge. whether you or someone important to you was wronged, you won't forget about it until it has been resolved. depending on the severity, a well-done apology can satiate you, but if they did something serious, you won't rest until they get what you think they deserve. not necessarily in a violent sense, but in a general manner. you recognize that the world is corrupt and unfair, and see it as your role to try to bring about some fairness in the world, but sometimes end up stretching yourself too thin. be careful. it's good to care so much about others, but be sure to care for yourself too.

- piper: you likely had to grow up too fast, because of something that happened in your past. because of that, you struggle to truly let loose. you refuse to rely on other people and insist on being self-sufficient, but you also insist on trying to take care of others too, which builds up a lot of stress that you never really learned how to relieve. so instead of taking care of your stress, you absorb yourself in work. additionally, you're very headstrong, and while being persistent is a good thing, it comes back to bite you once in a while. so make sure to be cautious. you need to protect yourself, but you don't need to always be on guard. relax, let loose. you're still young and have life ahead of you.

- preston: you've been at the lowest point in your life and back up again. this low point, though, changed you. the way you thought, the way you acted, the way you cared for people. it changed you, positively and negatively. you've seen and experienced a lot of struggle, and that made you stronger, but it also made you afraid. not afraid of getting hurt, but afraid of not being able to protect those you care about from the strife that you've seen cause the downfall of so many people. you see it as your role to protect people, as something that brings you purpose. you've probably felt that way for a long time though. someone you admired may have gotten hurt and you weren't able to protect them, and you try to make up for it by protecting everyone else. but it's not your responsibility to protect everyone. it's not your fault if you can't. protect yourself first, and find self-worth outside of your work. focus out the present, and everything else will fall into place. its okay to take a break.

- strong: you prioritize yourself over others, to the point where you may end up disregarding other peoples thoughts or feelings because you think yours are more "important." because of this, you are generally a bit judgmental and only think something is worthwhile if it will benefit you. this may originate from some sort of neglect or similar treatment in the past, where you were forces to be self-sufficient. but it is important to be able to prioritize yourself while still being kind to other people. you look down on people who you think are weak, because you were forced to be strong enough to protect yourself. but you should allow yourself to listen to other people, because they'll care about you if you care too. relationships are valuable and important, even if you have only a few of them. be more open to other people, it won't hurt you.

- x6-88: similarly, you may feel a sense of superiority over some people. however, this is likely because you were frequently admired and praised for not showing vulnerability, whether in a physical or emotional sense. you may tend to repress your emotions, out of convenience or fear of having them used against you, which ends up affecting you negatively in the long run for a variety of reasons. for one, emotions will build up, causing stress and general struggle. but also, refusing to open up can harm interpersonal relationships, causing issues with trust, honesty, and more. you may feel relationships aren't worth it, but having people in your corner in a way that's mutually beneficial is very important. vulnerability is a sign of strength, but you were likely taught the opposite, and it's hard to shake something so deeply ingrained. it's a process, but it's worth it. allow yourself to be vulnerable, allow yourself to be protected. you won't disappoint people, it's alright.

#also disclaimer #i wrote this at like midnight so if its messy or inaccurate theres my excuse #another disclaimer i havent ever used some of these companions this is all just based on what i know about them #and for others i was just projecting a lot so sorry if its inaccurate #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout companions

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docholligay · 3 years

Text

Divided by Four: Eighteen

Basic training would begin in three weeks, and she had been bouncing about in anticipation, but for the time being, Lena Oxton, who was kicking around what she thought her callsign might be, was still a civilian pilot, walking around the tiny little plane she shared with at five other people and afforded with her hours collecting glasses and washing up Saturdays and weeknights at the pub.

It helped that the other five were also Oxtons, and so Lena was expected to pay a fair share if not necessarily an equal one.

It was not an impressive plane, she supposed, as she crouched by the landing gear, tightening a bolt, but she loved it nonetheless. It was only a little Cessna that wanted a bit of a new paint job and had nothing to recommend itself in the field of agility, but any blemishes against it were removed the moment she got it in the air. On the ground, she might have dreamed about owning something more along the lines of a Piper, or a Cirrus, depending on the direction she wanted to go, but Lena found that once she was in the air, her favorite plane was the plane she was currently flying.

Which didn’t make her any less enthusiastic for the sort of planes she would fly in the RAF.

Her mother had been a squadron leader during the crisis, and her dad was a decorated pilot, and she had the Oxton name behind her, which would either give the instructors confidence in her or make them twice as hard on her.

Well, they could be twice as hard on her if they wanted. She was twice as good, and she knew it. She was born under a lucky star, and had the near-misses to prove it.

“So you think you’ll get into fast-jet school?” Her dad walked around the side of the plane, running a hand across the tail to check it as he did so.

“Oh, so you doubt me now?” Lena laughed and sprung to her feet, tossing the wrench from one hand to the other. “If I don’t, it’s you who taught me to fly, so doesn’t say much for you.”

Bert chuckled. “No, I’d suppose it doesn’t. MIght be a bit too short, eh?”

“‘Ave you know I am the exact minimum ‘eight required, I am.” She held herself straight. “Checked just this morning.”

Bert studied the edge of the window and smile. ‘Be sure you stand up straight.”

Lena looked at him for a moment. “Dad,” she waited for him to look at her, “Do you not want me to go?”

He looked at her for a long moment, scratched the back of his head, and put his hands on hips. “Lena--”

“Because I’m going any’ow. I love you, but I am going.”

Lena and her dad had been--well, it wasn’t fair to say on their own in a family like the Oxtons, but without a mum certainly--since Lena was six years old, and mum had died. She was an only child, and he hadn’t even thought of dating until Lena herself started two years ago. It was, of course, difficult in bits, but all lives were difficult in some way, and Lena knew of no one else as close to any parent as she was. They’d spent years taking care of each other and confiding in each other, and though she never would have said so, there was a part of her that wasn’t anxious to leave, either. Her father had promised to take care of her, when her mum has died. To keep her safe. He’d dragged himself up from his own grief, and done it, and because they had learned love could be lost so easily, they rarely took the other for granted.

So nothing was all bad, really.

“I want you to go,” he sighed, and chuckled, ”Just wait till it’s you ‘alf past forty--”

Lena scoffed. “I’m never going to be forty--”

“Lena, please don’t say that.” She looked at his face, darkly serious, “Dangerous work, and I know that, know it better than most, but I lie awake nights quite enough without ‘aving your morbid premonitions about your own demise, love. Lost your mum, lost me sister, so could you please, as a personal favor, resolve to outlive your old dad?”

“I was only ‘aving a go,” Lena tossed the wrench into the box, “Been talking to Parvati, ‘aven’t you? Can’t keep anything a bloody secret in this family, can I? You know, me entire bloody life I’ve been told, “She put her hands on her hips and tossed her head, “Lena, you fly like someone aiming to be no one’s nan,” and that’s all right, innit, but if I make a bloody joke about it--”

Bert shoved a clumsily wrapped box at her. “Happy birthday love. Please shut up and tell me you’ll be careful. Lie to me, if you must, though I’d prefer it to be the truth.”

“I’ll be careful, Dad.” She smiled as she took the package, “Almost forgot it was me birthday.”

“Ruddy terrible liar, you are.” He sat down on a metal box at the edge of the hangar. “Just ‘ave to keep ‘oping your skill is as good as you seem to think it is.”

“One day,” she nodded at him a finger under the paper, ready to open it, “I will be the best pilot in the world. Going to work for Overwatch, I am, you just watch.”

“That’s as may be, love, and I wish you all the luck, but it don’t change me concerns whether you’re wearing a roundel or a...whatever they’d call it. I suppose it’s a roundel of a sort, as well, innit? Well, you understand me.”

Lena started to open the package. “I understand you’re a nervous old wo--Dad.”

What she held in her hand was not, as a rule, very impressive. A small pair of aviators, rose gold on the frames, a few stray scratches across the lenses. You might have found them in a bin at any charity shop, a few pounds for the pair of them.

“You won’t want to use them for flying, of course, too beat up for that safely, not made for the sort of acrobatics you get up besides, but I thought you should ‘ave them.” He chuckled, “What good are they doing me?”

Lena turned them over in her hand. For as long as she could remember, this pair of sunglasses had sat on the one of the shelves in her house, next to a photo of her mother and father in their flight suits from the crisis. Lena looked back to him.

“You sure?”

“Didn’t want to give you ‘er jacket, as you should ‘ave your own, right? Course anything of ‘ers you want is yours, far as I’m concerned, so you can ‘ave it as well, but--”he smiled sadly, ‘She would be so proud of you. You’re a brilliant pilot, Lena, really you are. You are the best daughter we could ‘ave ‘oped for. ‘Appy birthday, love.”

She sat down next to him, still looking at the glasses. “I’ll outlive you, promise.”

He shook his head. “Don’t think about it in the air. Makes you a poor pilot, given what we do. Can’t think about who’s waiting for you on the ground. You know that.” He chuckled. ‘I should know that.” He grinned and slapped her knee, “I do ‘ave presents for you beyond some of your mum’s old rubbish. Eighteen! Properly an adult. Be wanting a place of your own soon, I’m sure.”

She saw her reflection in the glasses. Eighteen years felt like so many. Forty would be twenty two more. What was a year, here and there, whatever her father said about it?

“Not if don’t you want me to go.” She smiled. “Moving’s a chore, only coming ‘ome every so often any’ow. If you’ll ‘ave me.”

“As long as you’d like.”

When she was older, sometimes Lena would wonder what might have happened if she’d gotten married while her father was alive. If they simply would have swapped bedrooms and kept on with the easy rhythm of their domestic arrangement. The older she got, the more pleasant it sounded to her. But of course, they would never know, because Lena kept her promise, though Bert never got to know that. Life has a dark sense of humor that way.

She remembered that promise, in the shifting static of time. How it had been her birthday, but her father’s wish. How, at the time, eighteen had seemed like so many years.

So many.

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friendlyneighborhoodpsyop · 3 years

Text

Quotes about Kaz Brekker:

Every act of violence was deliberate, and every favor came with enough strings attached to stage a puppy show.

The boy called Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason any more than he needed permission.

He was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges.

“Who’d deny a poor cripple his cane?” “If the cripple is you, then any man with sense.”

“I’m a business man,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“I’m not here for a taste. You want a war, I’ll make sure you eat your fill.”

The boy he’d been talking to had been cocky, reckless, easily amused, but not frightening—not really. Now the monster was here, dead-eyed and unafraid. Kaz Brekker was gone, and Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, Brekker.” “I will,” said Kaz, “if there’s any justice in the world. And we all know how likely that is.”

“Well I’m the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel.”

Inej was always trying to wring little bits of decency from him. “When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“Greed is your god, Kaz.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.” “And what god do you serve, then?” “Whichever will grant me good fortune.”

“What’s the difference wagering at the Crow Club and speculating on the floor of the Exchange?” “One is theft and the other is commerce.” “When a man loses his money, he may have trouble telling them apart.”

“You’re a blackmailer—“. “I broker information.” “A con artist—“. “I create opportunity.” “A bawd and a murderer—“. “I don’t run whores, and I kill for a cause.”

“You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those that take the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach—the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate thing.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” “Each more grotesque than the last.” Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone—a single brush of bare skin caused your flesh to whither and die. “Pick one. They’re all true enough.”

Kaz was not a giddy boy smiling and making plans for a future with her. He was a dangerous player who was always working an angle.

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”

Brick by brick. It was a promise that let him sleep at night, the drove him everyday, that kept Jordie’s ghost at bay.

Kaz’s servant, greed, luring them South like a piper with a flute in hand.

“Being angry at Kaz for being ruthless is like being angry at a stove for being hot. You know what he is.”

“I wouldn’t trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces.”

Matthias knew monsters, and one glance at Kaz had told him this was a creature who had spent too long in the dark—he’d brought something back with him when he’d crawled into the light.

“The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.” “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

“I don’t want to die.” “I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you.”

“You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

Matthias suspected that Brekker would drag the girl back from hell himself if he had to.

He’d gifted her her first blade, the one she called Sankt Petyr—not as pretty as wild geraniums, but more practical.

“Kaz told me...he said it was my choice, that he wouldn’t be the one to mark me again.”

Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to your for two days.

He needed to know she believed in him.

“What to do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

Kaz would always remember that moment, when he’d seen greed take hold of his brother, an invisible hand guiding him forward, the lever at work.

There could be no judgement from a boy known as Dirtyhands.

“Let’s say the mark is a tourist walking through the barrel. He’s heard it’s a good place to get rolled, so he keeps patting his wallet, making sure it’s there, congratulating himself on just how alert and cautious he’s being. No fool he. Of course every time he pats his back pocket or front of his coat, what’s he doing? He’s telling every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub.”

It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.

He’d heard there were sharks in these waters but they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.

He’d imagined his death a thousand ways, but never sleeping through it.

It was as if once Kaz had seen her, he’d understood how to keep seeing her.

“If it were a trick, I’d promise you safety. I’d offer you happiness. I don’t know if that exists in the barrel, but you’ll find none of it with me.” Better terrible truths than kind lies.

He knew he was being reckless, selfish, but wasn’t that why they called him Dirtyhands? No job too risky. No deed too low. Dirtyhands would see the rough work done.

A good magician wasn’t much different than a proper thief.

She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

“Some people see a magic trick and say, ‘Impossible!’ They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good nights sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for the skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind”

“You love trickery.” “I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.”

“Do you know the secret to gambling, Helvar? Cheat.”

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not been healed wrong. There was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in the world. She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

You’ve cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

He needed to tell her...what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her.

“Saints, Kaz, you actually look happy.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. But there was no mistaking it. Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

“I can hear the change in Kaz’s breathing whenever he looks at you.” “You...you can?” “It catches every time, like he’s never seen you before.”

“How will you have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

“I’m not big on bluffing, am I, Inej?” “Not as a rule.” “And why is that?” “Because he’d rather cheat.”

Inej wanted Kaz to become someone else, a better person, a gentler thief. But that boy had no place here. That boy ended up starving in an alley. He ended up dead. That boy couldn’t get her back. I’m going to get my money, and I’m going to get my girl.

“A proper thief is like a proper poison. He leaves no trace.”

There were no good men in Ketterdam, Kaz said. The climate didn’t agree with them.

“If you don’t care about money, Nina dear, call it by it’s other names.” “Kruge? Scrub? Kaz’s one true love?” “Freedom, security, retribution.”

“It’s pragmatic. If I were cruel, I’d give him a eulogy instead of a conversation.”

“You haven’t been alive long enough to rack up your share of sin.” “I’m a quick study.”

Patience, he reminded himself. He’d practiced it early and often. Patience would bring all his enemies to their knees in time.

“You’ve got the devil’s own blood in you, boy.”

Kaz was going to have to find a new language of suffering to teach that smug merch son of a bitch.

“I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together—knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”

“My mother is Ketterdam. She birthed me in the harbor. My father is profit. I honor him daily.”

Desperate for some sign that he might open himself to her, that they could be more than two creatures united by their distrust of the world.

They could continue on with their armor intact. She would have her ship and he would have his city.

Sure, a lock was like a woman. It was also like a man and anyone or anything else—if you wanted to understand it, you had to take it apart and see how it worked. If you wanted to master it, you had to learn it so well you could put it back together.

He always liked returning to a home or business he’d had cause to visit before. It wasn’t just the familiarity. It was as if by returning, he laid claim to a place. We know each other’s secrets, the house seemed to say. Welcome back.

“When people see a cripple walking down the street, leaning on his cane, what do they feel? They feel pity. Now, what do they think when they see me coming?” “They think they’d better cross the street.”

“We can endure a lot of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”

“I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges, Rollins.”

It was as if Kaz had a secret map of Ketterdam that showed the city’s forgotten spaces.

“I’ve taken knives, bullets, and too many punches to count, all for a little piece of this town. This is the city I bled for. And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it’s that you can always bleed a little more.”

Was Johannus Rietveld meant to be his Jakob Hertzoon? Or had it been some way of resurrecting the family he’d lost? Did it even matter?

“I wreak all the havoc I can until my luck runs out, use our haul to build an empire.” “And after that?” “Who knows? Maybe I’ll burn it to the ground.”

Tell her to get out, a voice inside him demanded. Beg her to stay.

Kaz thought he knew the language of pain intimately, but this ache was new. It hurt to stand here like this, so close to the circle of her arms.

“These things don’t wash away with prayer, Wraith. There is no peace waiting for me, no forgiveness, not in this life, not in the next.”

Two of the deadliest people the barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both keeling over.

A black glass boy of deadly edges.

A bit of entertainment, the dramatic end of Kaz Brekker, the humbling of Dirtyhands. But this was no cheap comedy. It was a bloody rite, and Per Haskell had let the congregation gather, never realizing the real performance had yet to begin. Kaz stood upon his pulpit, wounded, bruised, and ready to preach.

“You have two minutes to get out of my house, old man. This city’s price is blood, and I’m happy to pay with yours.”

“What is wrong with him,” Nina grumbled. “Same thing that’s always wrong with him. He’s Kaz Brekker.”

“Rich men want to believe they deserve every penny they’ve got, so they forget what they owe to chance. Smart men are always looking for loopholes. They want an opportunity to game the system. The toughest mark is an honest man. Thankfully, they’re always in short supply.”

“Well, Brekker, it’s obvious you only deal in half truths and outright lies, so you’re clearly the man for the job.”

“What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie?” “Who’s Jordie?” “Someone I trusted. Someone I didn’t want to lose.”

He put his gloves back on and didn’t take them off. He became twice as ruthless, fought twice as hard. He stopped worrying about seeming normal, let people see a glimmer of the madness within him and let them guess at the rest.

The rage inside him burned on and he learned to despise people who complained, who begged, who claimed they’d suffered. Let me teach you what pain looks like, he would say, and then he’d paint a picture with his fists.

That was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.

“I will kill you, Brekker. I will kill everything you love.” “The trick is not to love anything.”

“Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”

She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It’s a smile he thought he might die to earn again.

“He doesn’t say goodbye. He just lets go.”

“Ketterdam is made of monsters. I just happen to have the longest teeth.”

#soc #kaz brekker #quotes

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ot5ismyhome · 3 years

Text

10. Healing

I'm so sorry for posting very late. I had exams. Lol It's still going on now but I wanted to post something. Hope you like this chapter.

To read the story from beginning click here.

*****

As therapy progressed Wanda started regaining control of her life. One day, she decided to go back to her office. At the entrance, she was met by Davis who nodded his head sympathetically at her. She was hoping not to run into anyone else she knew. She didn’t want any more sympathetic nods. Fortunately, she didn’t see anyone. She got in the elevator and was about to press the button for her floor when a woman with loads of files in her hand rushed in. Seeing Wanda, she gave a grin. To be polite, Wanda returned her smile. Daisy recognised Wanda as soon as she saw, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to make her relive that night.

“Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before” Daisy said trying to keep it casual.

“No. I just... took a break. I’m Wanda, and you?”

“Daisy Johnson of your secret hacking division.”

Wanda raised her eyebrow at the funny introduction by the other woman.

Daisy laughed, “I’m intern at Comms”

“Great. How do you like it here?”

“Boring. So many rules and protocols.” After a pause, Daisy added, “Which department are you from?”

“I’m Mr. Rogers’ assistant.” Wanda smiled.

“When will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut, Daisy?” she spoke to herself. “Well. Then, I have a reason to come to the top floor” she winked at Wanda. Wanda was taken back and didn’t know how to react. The lift opened and Daisy got out, “See you later.”

The elevator continued to Steve’s floor. Wanda got out and made her way to her office. It looked different but it felt familiar. The office has been cleaned and some things have been moved. She checked the shelves and all her things were still there. As she settled into her office, she felt a wave of familiarity wash over her. She was in a known surrounding. Small steps at a time she said to herself.

On her way to the conference room, she bumped into the new Head of Communication, Billy Koenig. They made some small talk and went on their ways. Things have changed around her Wanda thought.

By afternoon, Howard came to visit her. Seeing him after a long time made her lose it. It reminded of the time when everything wasn’t messed up. She started trembling and crying. She was able to let everything out. The familiar presence by her side was warm welcome. He held her and consoled her till her tears subsided. When Wanda calmed down bit Howard had offered to take her home then but she declined.

“Then come over to my lab.”

“That sounds fine.”

They both went down to his lab. They talked the rest of the day. Wanda felt better at the end of the day.

…..

Five months later

“I can’t come to the movies tonight. You guys go on. Maybe we can hang out some other time” said Carol. She was Steve’s chief advisor on Foreign Relations.

“Date night?” asked Piper.

“Yeah. I planned something sweet for my wife. I don’t want to postpone it”

“That’s cool. Other’s on board?” asked Daisy.

“Yeah,” said Davis. “And Carol, when is your wife due?”

“Two months from now”

“Decided on the name?” asked Piper.

“Yeah. Monica” Carol beamed.

“That’s cute,” said Wanda.

“What about you Piper? When are you planning to pop the big question? When are you planning on expanding the family?” Daisy teased.

“Guys. Guys, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I like how things are going with Becca. I’m not thinking much into the future right now.”

“What about you, Daisy? Met any new person.” asked Wanda.

Daisy laughed. “I don’t have much luck in the dating front. You know, one time …” Daisy started narrating a funny story. The group laughed and joked till they had to get back to work.

One months later

It was the last therapy session for Wanda. Andrew was satisfied with her improvement throughout the session. He asked her to keep in touch if any need arises contact him for any problem. Wanda thanked him and got up from the sofa.

“What plans do you have for today?”

“I’m moving into a new house.”

“Glad to hear that. Good luck, Wanda.”

“Thanks, Andrew.”

As usual Andrew walked Wanda to the entrance before preparing for his next client. Wanda walked to her car and started it. She drove to her old apartment but paused at the entrance. She hadn’t gone back there for a long time. She didn’t want to go back. She feared it would open the closed wounds. She stood at the corner of the road, staring at the building. Steve’s car caught her eyes. She reminded herself that he was there for her and she doesn’t have to go through this alone.

Wanda climbed the familiar stairs and reached her old apartment. She went in to see Steve already packing everything. Seeing her he gave a small smile. She joined him.

“You don’t have to pack by yourself. You could have waited till I came back.”

“Who said I did by myself? The others are also here.”

Hearing the conversation, Natasha peeped out of her bedroom and gave a smile. Wanda smiled back. She went into the kitchen and saw Tony and Howard working together. She was surprised as she stood in the doorway and looked at the father-son duo. Sensing her presence both turned towards her. She gave a small smile and went back to the living room and joined Steve.

“Sorry guys. I��m late” they heard a voice by the door. They turned to see Coulson standing there with a smile.

“Hey, Coulson” Wanda greeted him. “It’s been long. How’s work going on?”

“It’s classified,” he replied with a smile. He joined the others to help them pack.

All the stuff in every room was packed except Pietro’s, Wanda opened the door and stepped in. She let out the breath she was accidently holding. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see it was Steve. He was there to assure her that she doesn’t have to mourn alone. He was there to share her grief. Together they started packing his stuff. After they were done, the movers loaded it into the truck. The house felt different without the things. She went back to Pietro’s room to look at it one last time. Even though she stood alone she could feel her brother’s warm presence. She embraced herself and took one final look at the room. She walked out of the room and joined the others. They set out for the new place.

It was a cosy condo in the outskirts of Brooklyn near Steve’s place. Steve had suggested it to her when she asked him. She liked the place when she saw it first. When she took the tour of the place, she fell in love with it. It was fully furnished. The house looked elegant but not too extravagant for Wanda’s taste. They reached the new place and waited for the movers. After unloading the boxes, Natasha went out to pick up Bucky who was planning to join them for dinner. On the way back, they bought some take outs and drinks. The dinner was filled with quirky conversations and crappy jokes.

“I have an announcement. I’m going to Wakanda next month” Howard announced with pride.

“For how long?” Wanda asked.

“For about six months.”

“You know, Howard. You have to run these things by your employer first.”

“I forgot you were here. I thought you and Bucky were doing laundry” Howard snorted.

Steve and Bucky became red. The others burst out laughing.

Wanda thought about the first time they had hung out together. Everything was very different now. She thought they were just normal group of friends. Now she knew most of the group were vampires. Coulson is the Director of S.T.A.K.E. And she was ‘I’ now. But she knew she will be alright. As long as she had her friends by her side.

…..

Two months later

It was a bright sunny day and the sun’s rays danced on the graveyard grass. The tomb stones shone in the light. The leaves rustled in the mild summer breeze. Wanda walked to the empty grave with flowers in her hand. Thompson accompanied her. They laid the flowers on the empty grave. Thompson walked away for some time to give her alone time with her brother. After she had talked, they sat near the grave and recollected the memories of Pietro as a token of celebrating his life. By afternoon, they decided to leave.

“I will wait in the car,” Wanda said, slightly gripping his shoulders for support.

Thompson nodded.

After visiting Pietro's grave both of them drove to a nearby café. They ordered a coffee each and settled in an empty table.

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you before. I was-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I understand. We both were not in a good place. No bad feelings” Wanda reassured him.

Thompson gave a weak smile.

“How’s work?”

Thompson opened his mouth to talk but Wanda intervened again.

“Oh wait!” she said “It’s classified” she said mimicking Coulson.

Both of them chuckled. “That wasn’t a very good impression of Coulson but I will let it pass” he laughed.

“We should do this often. Meet and catch up with each other” Thompson offered.

“That would be nice,” Wanda smiled.

*****

Chapter 11

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