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nulfaga · 4 months

Note

sending you 4 or 8 as you prefer for the prompts :) & i would say lavinia <3 if you’re looking for character suggestions but if you have someone specific in mind….

4: "Hey, it's fashion."

Falcar’s golden magelight makes the guildhall basement a little more inviting, but the smell of mouse droppings persists—so too the stale, still air. No wonder the Guild keeps wine down here, thinks Lavinia. A few feet above is a beautiful Nibenese spring day, humid and fragrant, and down here the cold is rattling her bones. He’d put a muffling charm on the room, Falcar, which had made her uneasy; then he’d made her cast one too and watched her technique, the old goat, which was comfortingly, irritatingly familiar.

All told, she’s confused.

“If you’re here to kill me, wizard,” says Lavinia flatly, “I want you to know it wasn’t me who filched your reagents.”

Falcar smiles. “Wasn’t aware I was missing any.”

“The root pulp and bog-caps, bog-lanterns. . . you’re drawing me out.”

“Bog beacons. I’m not trying to kill you, daft conjurer. I’d be cleverer about it than this.”

“Should hope so.”

“Could I please come out, now?” says an unknown voice, with no source. Before the first thought could put itself together in her head, Lavinia has warded herself and Falcar, and her fingers have sparked with leashed lightning, her hand drawn back to throw—

“Lavinia,” says Falcar in that paralyzing tone he reserves for guild disputes. As if hexed, her hand goes limp. To the empty spot beside him he snaps: “I told you to wait for my word.”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” says the young man—he is, as far as she can tell, a young man—and drops his spell. The air wavers and he appears in full effect, a weird creature, lithe and pale, with hair the color of nightshade petals and wrapped in the most outlandishly rich robes imaginable. “I thought I was dealing with a mage, not a nervous dreugh.”

She chokes on her fury—considers throwing the spell anyway, thinks marginally better of it—instead she gasps, “Bite me you fucking peacock popinjay cunt.”

The young man freezes for an instant, open-mouthed, then bursts into laughter.

His laugh is supernaturally pleasant; rich and rebounding, like that of a nymph. “Pop—popinjay?” he says, placing a hand on the front of his robes, shaking with glee. “It’s fashion, thank you very much. Bespoke, even.”

Lavinia, at a loss, stands there and watches him.

“Let’s try this again,” says the young man, a little breathlessly. “P. Copperhart Darkworth of Wayrest at your service, but just Copperhart will do. I apologize for my outburst, and for appearing unannounced, and I thank you for not incinerating me.”

“Lavinia Marciana Caridenius,” she says tersely, ignoring his outstretched hand.

“A pleasure.”

Falcar seats himself in one of the damp basement chairs and motions for Lavinia and the interloper to do the same. “You know I met with the Council a few days ago, conjurer.”

“Yes,” says Lavinia.

“And you know that an official end has been called to the Simulacrum.”

“Yes, wizard.”

“Well. . .Jagar Tharn, during his reign, compromised the Battlespire. Left it open for the Daedra.”

Lavinia grits her teeth. “What do I want with the Battlespire? I’m a University mage, not a Legion suck-up.”

“Listen,” says Falcar, and follows it with nothing. He puts his head in his hands, the grey hair spills between his fingers. Then, sitting upright, he continues: “The Mages’ Council and the Elder Council deliberated together. It was decided that someone must go to the Battlespire and determine whether there are any surviving battlemages, and whether the facility can be retaken in Tharn’s absence. The guildmasters each put forward a handful of names. You, conjurer, and you, master Darkworth, are brilliant, resourceful casters. . .”

“But young and dispensable, if the worst comes to pass,” says Copperhart coolly.

“And who the hell are you, anyway?” Lavinia presses him. “You’re not even Mages’ Guild. Why are you involved?”

He lowers his glasses, peculiar little spectacles with red lenses and jeweled rims, and peers at her over them. “My family is in town, so to speak, for the celebrations. The Darkworths are known to His Imperial Majesty and the Elder Council, so the matter reached my ears by and by. I was asked to step in.”

Both brilliant casters?—it dawns on her. Arkay’s eyes. “You want us to go to the Battlespire together.”

Falcar looks miserable. “So the two Councils have decided.”

“Lavinia Marciana Caridenius,” says Copperhart slowly, as if reciting a poem. “That is a mouthful. What do your friends call you? Liv? Nia? Vinnie?”

She stiffens with outrage when she hears ‘Vinnie’: a mistake. Copperhart perks up like a wolf smelling blood.

“Vinnie!” he declares.

Lavinia catches Falcar’s eye. He knows her. He’s always tut-tutting about her temper, he knows she’ll throttle this purple bastard if he carries on like this, assignment or no assignment, But all she manages is to groan, “Falcar.”

“Take a little time to think. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow,” says Falcar, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Master Darkworth will accompany you into the Imperial City at the end of the week. Until then, not a word about this to anyone, please.”

He rises from his chair in his usual way, pushing himself up from the armrests to spare his knees. Copperhart follows suit and excuses himself from the room with a bow. Lavinia goes to the stairs.

“Conjurer,” comes Falcar’s voice.

She turns around, fuming and a little giddy.

Falcar folds his arms and glances aside.

“What?”

“I. . .I was against this whole undertaking,” he says quietly.

Lavinia closes her eyes. All she wants now is to nap in the afternoon sun. To take the carriage to Gold Leaf, maybe. . . “I should see my family.” She holds Falcar’s gaze. He seems exhausted; he has dark circles. There is a tremor in his hands. “This is a lot to ask, wizard.”

“I know.” Falcar sighs. “Take very good care of yourself.”

“I thought I was dispensable,” she says, petulantly.

He glares at her, the Guildmaster’s glare that stops unruly apprentices in their tracks and withers wizards of lesser authority. “Think again.”

#thank you jay <33 #lavinia #p. copperhart darkworth #my writing #tes #slowly expanding the gemileverse to include every single tes game. we've conquered the mainline now we subsume the spinoffs #actually the battlespire thing is an idea i'm tossing around but i'm not committing to it. it's funnier if the stakes are way lower like #an important guild member gets involved in a scandal and they have to go save his bacon w/o leaking the sensitive info #on the other hand. battlespire!#anyways thank you for letting me write about them <33 #(this is 3e 399 for context. theyre both in their early 20s here and neither can act like it lol)

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animatronicabundance-archived · 8 months

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What deadly sin are you?

Tagged by: stole it from @behindslaughter

Tagging: the next criminal -

Wrath

You feel as though the World has wronged you. Maybe it has. Maybe it hasn't. That distinction isn't important. You take on any task with furious righteousness, and avenging angel, glorious in its destruction. But you do not care who gets burned. Or maybe you do, deep down, when you lie awake at night trying to calm your ire so you can finally sleep. A Little voice pops up in your head. "maybe I hurt more than I help?". No. You shove it down, a new wave of fumes engulfing you at the thought. No, this must be justified. Because if it isn't, you have no idea of who you even are anymore..

Pride

You cling desperately to the illusion that you are better than everyone else. Smarter, prettier, more desirable. You are those things, you tell yourself. You HAVE to be. Because if you aren't better than everyone else, how can you ever be their equal? I am good enough, I am good enough, I AM good enough. Am I good enough? If I cannot prove my right to exist, my right to be here, do I even belong here at all?

Pride

#all fun and games: dash games #To anyone surprised sweet Lavinia got wrath- gestures to the spooky shadow hare-#Mike also getting pride like Ra's William is sending both me and Mike rn though I skdfj #Not surprised Liz ended up with it though #Atleast one of them will admit they take after their father in some ways

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lemonade-juley · 1 year

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Hmm, I think I'm gonna make it that Lavinia has a crush on Scarlett... Don't know if I'm gonna pull the trigger on the pairing itself yet (considering what I've heard it'd play into my reluctance of wanting to mess with canon relationships too much, that and my opinions of Scarlett may change or I may find a better pairing for Lavinia as I get through the story), but! I think Lavinia having a crush has pretty big anger potential especially with all the Crescent stuff.

#btw i have both the bow and very good rep with scarlett so no issues on that front #lemon rambles #oc: lavinia❤️#pokemon desolation #pokemon desolation spoilers #< just in case i don't think this is terribly spoilerly but still

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pulchrasilva · 2 months

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Me engaging with fandom: no real interest in shipping, far more interest in all my ideas being consistent with the themes of the story

Me engaging with Literature™️: literary analysis is boring i wanna spend my time imagining turnus and aeneas making out

#this is maybe a little bit of an exaggeration #given that my earlier Thoughts on lavinia definitely count as both analysing and fandom-ifying #but. i dont post my thoughts on the aeneid bc what if theyre silly or unorginal :(#but yeah tbf fandom and analysing are not always polar opposites #not me debating myself in the tags of my own post to defend myself from the accusation i made against myself as a joke lmai

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mydearlybeloathed · 10 months

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THAT HEROES OF OLYMPUS IMAGINE WAS SO GOOD FR like nil it reminded me of the eternals BUT PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE MAKE A PT2

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the eight get together for first time since Y/N's funeral, and it's a cause for some serious looks into their future.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: allusions to leo x fem!reader, heroes of olympus x fem!reader

𝐚/𝐧: omg you're so right it is like the eternals AND THANKS SM 🥰

Christmas Eve hadn’t ever been so crowded, and honestly, Sally was a bit overwhelmed. Nevertheless, she'd never wish it any other way; her son was happy, and his wife was happy, so she was happy.

Besides, she wasn't stuck to the kitchen all alone. Estella and Paul were right at her side, and so were her grandchildren, Margot and Zoe.

Well, Margot and Zoe were fighting more than helping, spreading puffs of flour into the air with every punch and chokehold they threw out.

Sally let out a breath to calm herself as she very nearly dropped the tray of casserole due to their chase around the kitchen. Paul, who had gained a sense for Sally's temper, looked up form across the room and noticed the furrow of her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Girls," he snapped, snatching the rolling pin from Zoe and grabbing Margot by the back of her hoodie. "Please, take it outside."

Zoe, ever the oldest, nodded and dragged her sister out into the front yard. Hopefully, thought Paul, there wouldn't be a Christmas trip to the ER.

Further into the house, away from the stress of the kitchen, laughter rang throughout the house.

In the living room, sat around the hearth, were the eight Heroes of Olympus.

Hazel sat on the edge of the couch, every once in a while looking toward the kitchen she'd been thrown out of. Sally insisted she didn't need any more help, but Hazel couldn't help but feel the need to.

Annabeth and Percy sat on the rug, criss crossed and side by side as they thanked Hestia no arguments had yet to break out. It seemed things were finally getting back to how they used to be; that is, good.

On the couch, right next to Hazel, was Frank. There was a polite enough distance between them, but every once in while they'd lock eyes and smile. The conversation between them wasn't what they'd like it to be, but slowly, they felt the ice slowly begin to melt. Both were hoping for a second chance, but neither knew how to ask for it.

"You're still doing quests, right?" Hazel asked him.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Not really quests. A search party, more like. Searching for more demigods."

Her head tilted as she turned to face him. "How are you finding them?"

"Luck, mostly," he said. "It's just me and Lavinia right now. We're following monster patterns for the most part, as well as just going to Olympus and asking... well, asking for a roster."

Hazel laughed behind her hand. "A roster? For all the people they've, erm, been with?"

Nodding, Frank chuckled too. "It's effective."

On the other end sat Y/N and Leo, the latter completely captured by whatever the son of Hephestus said. His hands were quick as he worked with several gears and pieces of metal, not realizing as his friend got closer to his shoulder to watch what he was doing.

When he was done, he held up a tiny model dragon, which he handed to her before going on about all that had happened since last they talked, which had been some months ago, upon her crashing her own funeral.

Y/N grinned down at the dragon, setting it on her knee as she propped her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head there, eyes finding Leo's profile again as she hung on every word he said.

"What happened to Calypso," she asked in a moment of pause. She'd been wondering that for some time, even before her "death." She'd been on good terms with everyone during their decade of disagreement and had spoken to Leo every few years or so, and eventually, Calypso stopped showing up to their lunch get-togethers.

Y/N never had the nerve to bring her up, mostly because she didn't want to come off... the wrong type of way about it.

Leo blinked, not expecting that, and shifted to face her. "Oh. Uhm, we didn't work out." His lopsided grin turned melancholy. "Took me three years to figure that out."

"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. He'd been so happy with Calypso, and as much as that was hard to swallow, she wasn't about to put an end to that.

"Eh," Leo shrugged, noticing how her face had fallen. "It's fine. We're good now. Better as friends, I think."

The pair fell silent at that particular choice of words, an echo of a past they'd rather not bring up in their heads.

It hadn't been so long ago, to them at least, when they were sixteen, and better as friends had put some kind of impassable bridge between the close friends.

For some reason, they both reflected, sharing a brief glance, that bridge wasn't so impassable anymore.

On the soft armchair across from them were Piper and Shel. Piper had her legs thrown over Shel's, her upper body leaned against the side of the chair as she talked with Jason, who lay on his back on the floor. To her surprise, Shel and Jason got along really well.

"So you can fly?" Shel asked, a brow raised as she looked between her girlfriend and the son of Jupiter.

Jason sat up and nodded. "Yep."

Shel scoffed. "I don't believe you."

Piper and Jason shared a look, mischief in their eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she answered, shaking her head. "Just cause you're a demigod or whatever doesn't mean the laws of gravity don't apply to you."

"Well, they do still." Jason shifted so he was sitting right in front of Shel. "It doesn't work like that, really. I just bend the wind to lift me up."

"There's no way you're a fuckin' airbender, dude."

"There is a way, and I'll prove it--"

"Mom!"

Annabeth's eyes shut as she sighed to keep her patience. Meanwhile, Percy nudged her and wondered aloud. "How come they never call for me when they're angry?"

Ignoring her husband, Annabeth looked up as her daughters ran one after the other into the living room. Margot shoved Zoe aside to get there first, sending her older sister spiraling into the wall.

Zoe jumped back up with a grunt, just in time to catch her mother's stern glare and shape up real quick.

Margot pointed at her sister and shouted, "Zoe punched me! For real punched me. In the eye!"

"Was it aggravated?"

"Percy."

He raised his hands in defense. "It's a valid question."

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose, though a little grin was fighting its way onto her lips. "Zoe, do not deck your sister in the face."

"Ha!"

"Margot," Annabeth warned. "Do not do anything garnering a deck in the face."

The sisters glared at each other before they said in unison, "Yes, Ma'am" and ran back outside, this time with their Aunt Stella marching after them, slouching and frustrated at being sent to be their babysitter by her mother.

Annabeth sighed and leaned into her husband's side, feeling his laughter in his chest before she heard it. He rubbed at her shoulders. "We haven't decided whose genetics trumped the others yet."

"It's obvious," Y/N said, looking up from the little toy dragon in her lap.

The parents shared a look before Annabeth asked, "Really?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah. Margot may look just like Sally, but she's all Annie's sass and smarts. And Zoe's a tiny little Percy, except maybe a bit more self-aware."

Percy scoffed, nearly offended, as Annabeth chuckled. Y/N leaned back, reclining into the soft couch, and let her exhaustion get the better of her as she confessed, "I can't wait till I have kids someday."

An instant later, her cheeks were rosy as she sat straight up, glaring at Hazel's little snicker. "I mean, not mine, obviously."

Leo's brows quirked as he turned to face her entirely on the couch. "Why obviously?"

She realized then she'd actually never told anyone. "Oh, uhm," she stammered. "I... uh, I learned a while back I can't. Something in my DNA. I dunno..."

Suddenly, her little slip up wasn't so funny. Piper shifted so she was sitting up, beside Shel on the armchair. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Y/N was quick to shake my hands in dismissal, a tiny grin on her face. "No, don't be. I have other options, if I ever get a life and move out of the Big House."

Annabeth tilted her head at that, her hand still in Percy's. "But you love being a counselor?"

"I do! Don't get me wrong," she said, starting to laugh a little awkwardly now that everyone was looking at her. "I just... I wish I hadn't clung to Camp like I had, you know? I shoulda gone to New Rome and gone to college with you guys instead of settling for never getting passed tenth grade."

Now it was Frank that turned to face her. "Y/N, you know it's not too late, right? NRU has GED programs."

Percy nodded. "And then you can apply. I'm sure Reyna and Jason would give you a recommendation or something."

"Definitely," said Jason.

Though the prospect of it was exciting, she ducked her chin and sank deeper into the cushions. "But... guys. I'm bordering on twenty-five..."

Before anyone could say anything else, reassure her it wasn't too late, the man beside her blurted, "I'll do it with you."

Everyone's heads darted in Leo's direction. Leo was smart. Insanely smart. But he'd made it clear school just wasn't for him. He was well enough off, and had a good job working at a garage not too far from the Waystation. He had no need to go back to school.

"What?" Y/N voiced the thought whirling around the room.

He just shrugged. "I've been thinking about it for a while, to be honest."

"You're not just saying that?" Y/N asked. "Cause I-I don't need you to do that for me, Leo. I know how difficult it was for you."

"I'm serious," he insisted. "Fixing motorcycles and cars is fun and all, but there's only so many oil changes a man can do before he has an existential crisis."

He wanted to be an engineer. He'd always wanted to be engineer, really, but it always felt so far away. He'd felt alone, but Y/N was there, and she also wanted more out of life. She too had regrets, probably some regrets they shared, and he wasn't just letting that go.

So he shrugged again, offering her his signature smirk, and raised his fist up to her. "What'dya say? Back to school?"

Y/N probably stared at his fist long enough to make it weird, before her eyes snapped up to meet his, and a smile spread from cheek to cheek. "Okay."

She fist bumped him, letting out a loud laugh as Piper whooped and started a round of applause that soon had the living room nearly too loud to handle.

It was still going on when Sally and Paul entered the room, the mother ripping an oven mitt off her hand and crossing her arms whilst her husband snickered under his breath. He cast her a look and wondered, "Did we miss something?"

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stedefxckingbonnet · 7 months

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PLEASE WRITE BEING IZZY'S LOVER (gn) AND IZZY ACTUALLY SURVIVED BECAUSE IDK THEY EITHER MISSED OR THE LOVER MANAGED TO SAVE HIM OR ANYTHING I JUST NEED TO SAVE THIS MAN 😭🙏

I GOT YOU!!! Here's my little fix-it fic, all! Writing this made me feel a bit better because my god I finally brought myself to watching the finale even after knowing all that happened already and wow I was not okay. But perhaps this fic is me turning poison into positivity in my own way? Yeah. Yeah! I'll leave it at that :) This one is a bit shorter but, it's short and sweet, I thinl!

I didn't really want to recount the battle itself, just more-so the aftermath, so please keep that in mind whilst reading in case it feels like I dove in a bit too suddenly and quickly!

Keep the requests coming, all! I love you all so, so dearly.

Love,

Lavinia

My Favorite | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: light angst (but there's fluff GALORE and it ends happily, i swear!), some strong language, brief mentions of being shot, tending to an injury/mentions of injury (non-graphic descriptions)

Word Count: 1481

In your periphery, you couldn't help but notice Izzy suddenly hunched over, clutching his stomach. Everyone else managed to continue charging forward with their weapons, but you had other plans, and knew that both you and Izzy would be better for it. You rushed over to him without any hesitation, slinging his arm around you gently as you ushered him back to the ship as quickly as you could. His breathing staggered and the sound of it motivated you to move even faster.

You managed to rush him back to your quarters; in case the rest of the crew came stumbling onto The Revenge again, you would be able to focus on the most important mission of your life—helping Izzy Hands survive.

"I'm alright, love," Izzy breathed out, looking up at you as you cleaned the wound and prepared to bandage it.

"Clearly, you aren't," you laughed sadly, fighting back tears as you worked.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he sighed as he spotted you scrambling all over the place, very clearly in a panic about all of this. You so badly wanted to stop right there and scold him. You didn't have to do this? Was he fucking kidding? Of course you had to do this, you wanted to do this. You wanted him to be okay, needed him to be. You wanted to take away the harm brought upon him. You wanted to see him live another day and many, many more. You craved to see him go on to send you another one of his not-so-discreet-anymore smiles that got you through the toughest of times. You don't have to do this? How could he be so foolish? He was by far the most intelligent aboard the ship and yet, he still managed to say such a silly thing.

"Did you hear me?"

"Oh, I heard you," you almost seethed. "And once again, I will be ignoring your request."

"You manage to go and do that so much and yet, you're still my favorite," he weakly shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling and laughed under his breath.

You stopped in your tracks, for just a moment. You figured you could—Izzy was all patched up and all that was left to do was sit with him and make sure the bleeding stops and give him food, water, anything else he needed, and you were beyond happy to do so. You needed to be sure he was okay. But what he had just admitted to you earned quite a bit of a shock from you, a shock you couldn't quite process running all around the room. "I'm your favorite?"

He laughed once again, coughing immediately after and reaching to clutch his abdomen once again. You immediately sat down beside him, not realizing you had started to gently touch his cheek. "Isn't that fucking obvious? Everyone else sure as hell knows it."

You couldn't help but laugh yourself. "I guess? I don't know. You're my favorite too, you know."

"Oh, don't bother lying just because I'm injured," Izzy teased, reaching out to flick you in the arm.

"I'm not lying!" you threw your hands up in a playful surrender. "I mean it, Izzy. You know I do. And I don't want anything happening to you. I don't know what I'd do if you..." and with that, the tears began to spill out. Izzy knew there was no use trying to sit up, but he was able to extend his arm around you.

"I signed up for this," he shrugged.

"As long as I'm around, you are not dying any fucking time soon. Okay? You got that?"

Izzy's lips formed a smirk. "I love it when you get feisty."

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you giggled. Though suddenly, your expression hardened, and even Izzy noticed you were about to say something of the serious vein. "You really scared me back there, Iz."

Izzy could only sigh—he knew that none of the words he could muster would be enough to relieve you just yet, or even at all. And what was he supposed to say, anyway? That he was sorry he let himself get shot? Sorry that he didn't immediately seek help? Sorry that you had to see that? That he was so fucking exhausted of the life he's made for himself after all?

You made your way over to the foot of the bed, carefully sitting and stroking his leg. "I'm sorry," you suddenly lamented.

"Why are you sorry?"

"You just really scared me. I didn't want to lose you but I don't want you feeling bad about it either because it wasn't your fault you got hurt," you sighed, averting your eyes from his gaze.

Izzy slowly sat up, rubbing your upper back before gently wrapping his arm around you and resting his head upon your shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. I promise."

"I know," you exhaled. "I just...I could have lost you, and that thought absolutely haunts me every time we raid or duel or see another ship at all, or even just roam about the Republic of Pirates, but I know this is your life and what you're used to and I would never yank you away from—"

"I don't want any of it anymore," Izzy suddenly admitted. "I'm tired. So fucking tired. And I don't even know how many wounds my body can take anymore."

You laughed sadly, craning your head over to look at him once again. Even after the years of suffering and pain that remained on his face at times, he was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. And, he was healing as of late—you could see that, everyone could see that. "Well, what are you saying? And no, it isn't obvious—"

"I want to live," Izzy assured you. "But not this life. A different one."

"What would that look like to you?"

"I don't know," he whispered, almost ashamed of this answer.

"It's okay not to know. I'm up for anything as long as you are right there beside me," you reassured him as you planted a gentle kiss upon his forehead.

"Really? You'll stay with me?" Izzy asked in disbelief.

"I love you, Izzy. You. Not because you're Blackbeard's first mate, not because you're a pirate. Because you're you. You're Israel Hands. You are clever and caring and proud and you have so much else to offer this world, away from the sea. Beyond all this."

Izzy lifted his arms up from his sides, wincing as he did so, his hands flying back to his abdomen. You smiled softly as you ever so carefully wrapped your arms around him, making sure not to squeeze so tight. One of your hands made its way up to the back of his head as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. You suddenly heard him whimpering and it brought tears to your own eyes. At last, he spoke. "Fuck you."

You couldn't help but giggle as you sat back up once again.

"I love you," Izzy spoke sincerely, hoping with every part of him that this came across. By now, your face was in his hands, and he looked at you in such a way that truly did confirm his tenderness, his endless adoration that he reserved for you and only you.

You knew exactly the response he was searching for. He knew that you had love for him already—you were never exactly subtle about it. And he never exactly minded it. "I know that, Iz. I promise you."

"Suppose we should say goodbye to everyone?"

"We will. I just want to be here with you right now."

"I wouldn't mind that."

You lay down beside Izzy, draping your arm over his chest as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. He hums happily as you do, and he instantly settles into the warmth you provide. Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut and even in your dreams, Izzy Hands is there and you are together and you are living without fear and judgment, and the only thing you're stressing about is what to make for breakfast that day even though he'll always mumble, "Anything will do, darling." Perhaps whatever life the two of you should lead will come to you in your dreams and you will eagerly share these ideas once you awaken. In this moment, you were just grateful to get to spend the rest of your life with none other than him, and it almost didn't matter what endeavors you embarked on alongside one another from this moment forward. You finished the ditty Izzy was humming before you succumbed to the sweet dreams he wished upon you, and you looked forward to your dreams that were about to come true in just a few hours.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd season 2 #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #ofmd s2 #fanfic #ofmd izzy hands #fix it fic #fix it au #izzy is alive and well wdym?#fluff #light angst #requests open #keep the requests coming #please request #established relationship

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finelythreadedsky · 2 years

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hm maybe it's that a retelling can either work with the text as it exists in the collective popular imagination (rather than the actual text) or throw the text out the window. those are two different things. you can't discard the text on the basis of the idea we have in our heads of it, you do have to first approach it and engage with it as it actually is and decide that what it actually is is something you want to reject.

#o brother where art thou does the former and the penelopiad does the latter but doing both really falls flat #lavinia does neither btw #mine #retellings

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padfoot-lupin77 · 9 months

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We talk about the whole “dead moms” thing in the Riordanverse but no one brings up the bad dads

[PJO]

1)Percy’s dad literally told him he wished Percy hadn’t been born, the first time they talked

2)Annabeth’s dad was always at work +neglected her +kinda chose his other family over her

3)didn’t Grover’s dad die searching for Pan?

4)Thalia’s dad always ignored her and never answered her prayers until Athena interfered in Titan’s Curse

5)Nico’s father literally told him he wished Nico had died instead because he liked Bianca better (definitely not Hades’s best moment)

6)Rachel’s dad is an a$$hole

[HoO]

7)Jason didn’t meet his dad until he was fighting in Athens, age 16

8)Leo didn’t meet his dad until he was 15 and I’m pretty sure he didn’t see him again after that either

9)Piper’s dad always neglects her and in Lost Hero she said he usually gets distracted after max 30 seconds of talking to her

10)Hazel’s dad only appeared once when she was 13 after having abandoned her and her mom with a curse

11)Frank’s dad gave him a spear and a death mission at 16 first time he saw him and for Riordanverse standards that’s great

12)Reyna’s dad went insane and she had to kill him

[ToA]

13)Meg’s dad was murdered when she was 5 as punishment and then Nero abused the living sh!t out of her

14)Lavinia felt she was a disappointment to her dad for refusing to continue the family tradition/business of dancing

15)Lester talks many times about how Zeus abused and manipulated him

[Magnus Chase]

16)Magnus only meets his dad twice and it’s all supposed to be fine

17)Samirah’s father is a horrible megalomaniac trickster who wanted to control his children and willed her to die in Hammer Of Thor

18)Alex’s dad is an a$$hole

19)Hearthstone’s dad is a monster both literally and metaphorically

20)Blitzen’s dad is dead

21)Mallory’s dad was alcoholic and abusive

22)T.J. died because, due to his father, he couldn’t refuse a challenge and then went another 150 years before meeting Tyr

I haven’t read the Kane Chronicles yet (I’m planning to) but there seems to be a pattern in the rest of his books

Shout out to Silena’s dad. He had a pastry shop. Must have been handsome cause he got with the literal goddess of love. Sent his daughter pastries at camp when she was sad. The only good dad in these books.

#Riordanverse #pjo #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #toa #trials of apollo #magnus chase

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