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ladynestaarcheron · 3 years

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Fears All the Way Down - Chapter Six

ao3 - masterpost

Hey, babes! Here are our canon fixes for the week:

1. When Nesta was six, she met with a man who declared more or less immediately that she would forever be hopeless at playing an instrument or singing, but that she had a good ear for music. Bull.

2. Nesta is apparently so desperate for a friend that she gives the House life, but never really hangs out with the priestesses. Um. Okay? Sounds fake, but okay.

3. Both Gwyn and Emerie have never left their homes in Sangravah and Illyria, respectively, except for when the IC brings them to the library. Not exactly a fix, but something we will start to explore.

Enjoy!

---

Since Nesta's accomplished virtually nothing in her life, she expects her ideas of "new things" to try to be easy to come up with. But after an hour of brainstorming in bed that Thursday evening, she only has two things scribbled in the notebook Thalia gave her: Wear yellow and Learn to play the trumpet.

"Don't suppose you have a trumpet in here?" Nesta says to the House.

The House only pulls the curtains shut in answer.

"Bedtime," she agrees, shutting the notebook and placing it on her bedside table. "I think this one-per-day rule is a bit much, don't you? Especially considering these self-defense lessons. Do you think other girls will come?" Nesta doesn't always wait for an answer when talking to the House. It tends to interject as it pleases, generally by opening doors or magicking a cup of tea in front of her. "I think that Emerie girl would like to. From Illyria, I told you about her...oh, thank you," she adds, for the House has placed the novel Nesta started last night by her pillow. "Shall I read aloud, then?"

She does, until she falls asleep.

The next morning, she draws looks from the hood-less girls and slight double-takes from the veiled priestesses; no doubt courtesy of the bright yellow dress the House had pulled out of her wardrobe this morning. She ignores them, not stopping until she reaches Clotho's office. When she knocks, Thalia's voice calls for her to enter.

"Well!" Thalia says, smiling.

"I'm never wearing this color again. It washes me out." Ruins the detox and more regulated eating she's had this past month.

"I think you look lovely," she insists, and Clotho nods. "But that's certainly your prerogative. Is that the worst consequence?"

"Yes, yes," Nesta says impatiently, waving a hand. "It won't kill me to try new things. Lesson learned."

Thalia looks over at Clotho. Perhaps she can tell what the priestess looks like under her hood, or perhaps she talks to her mind-to-mind like Feyre and Rhysand do, but Nesta almost thinks they exchange a glance of some sort. Amused, perhaps?

"Can either of us help you with anything, Nesta?" Thalia asks pleasantly, and gestures for her to sit down.

"Maybe," Nesta says taking a seat. Her cheeks color slightly as she does; why is she bashful about this all of a sudden? Around Thalia and Clotho? "I...well, I've started some self-defense, you know."

"We know." They both did, had both asked her how it was going. "You're still enjoying it, aren't you?"

"I...I am-it's good for me." Enjoy is a strong word.

"You said it helps keep you focused," Thalia says. "Centered."

"Yes. It...makes me feel good." She doesn't normally struggle with her words so much, does she? Does she sound like an idiot to the two of them, or just to her own ears? No, Clotho and Thalia would never say that about her. Never even think it. It's only her who's like this, trapped in her own wretched mind, slave to something dark and horrible and become just as vile-

But no, that isn't true. It's not just her who feels that way. And that's why she's here.

"It makes me feel more in control," Nesta says finally. "Of my life and my body."

Thalia leans back, satisfied. Clotho doesn't move. Nesta wonders if they know, if they can guess at what just went on in her mind. Either way, they both wait for her to continue.

"And I thought," she says, pausing to draw breath, "that maybe some other girls might be interested. With...Cassian."

At this, Clotho does cock her head.

"We meet in the mornings. Not on Tuesdays and not over the weekend," she adds, just so they aren't sitting in silence.

After a few moments that feel ridiculously long, Thalia says, "I think that's a wonderful idea, Nesta."

For a brief, strange moment, something happens. Nesta breathes in as Thalia finishes her sentence-not in relief or any emotion in particular, just to breathe-and as she does so, something inside of her shifts. Un-constricts.

But it's gone just as soon as it arrives, and before Nesta has time to dwell upon it, one of Clotho's notes appears. For a select group of girls, perhaps.

"Yes, I think we have the same few in mind...Of course, Nesta, you're welcome to share this with all of the students, but just between Clotho and myself, I think we'll privately encourage four or five...yes, thank you for bringing this up to us, Nesta," Thalia says, finishing with another warm smile.

Don't go just yet, Nesta, please, Clotho writes as Thalia takes her leave. I wanted to ask you how you were doing.

"I'm well. Thank you."

I'm glad to hear these self-defense lessons have something to do with that...our own lectures and exercises too, I hope?

Nesta raises her head slightly as her cheeks tinge pink. "I-yes. I think so." Clotho waits, unmoving, until Nesta sighs and says, "I do like the lectures."

Wonderful. Which ones?

Nesta answers honestly, "All of them." It's...it's quite something, to learn things. Things she never knew, never imagined, from females who are so passionate about them. "And...I like the jewelery. I like working with my hands."

I'm so very happy to hear you're finding yourself here, Nesta, Clotho's pen writes out. Have you given any thought to a more permanent assignment?

"I...thought you were supposed to."

With your input, of course. We would never want you to do something you were uncomfortable with.

But Gwyn's not comfortable with Merrill, is she? "I don't know. There's not really anything wrong with any of the priestesses, I suppose." It's only when Clotho begins lightly shaking with amusement that Nesta realizes she probably shouldn't have said that. "That is...I like them." She does. Enough.

Well, I'm happy to hear that, too.

Nesta rises, rather abrupt. "I've got to sort books," she says, and doesn't wait for a proper goodbye before leaving.

---

The amount Nesta has improved after only a few short weeks of being in the library floors Cassian. Her weight gain, voluntarily asking him for self-defense lessons, her performance in said lessons, and she still manages to find time to ask if other girls can join. Not even touching upon the fact that she's said she doesn't feel so dependent on alcohol anymore.

It shows incredible strength of character, and it makes Cassian's heart swell so much that he almost doesn't care when he meets an unfamiliar, tipsy young male he realizes must be one of the rebels in Windhaven, glaring at him.

Almost.

"What are you doing outside of your camp, boy?" Boy, he says, because he is one. He's not yet participated in the Rite.

"Visiting family," the boy slurs. "Sir," he adds, mocking.

"Go home," he orders, trying to imitate Nesta when she's at her coldest.

Perhaps it works, because the boy blanches before sneering and turning away.

He has to tell Rhys they're getting more brazen. Normally Cassian wouldn't care at all what any of them say to him-or at least, say he doesn't care-but if these pricks are bringing Nesta into it, all bets are off. He's going to follow up on whoever that was and make sure he doesn't come back to this camp until this situation is under control. Until the threat on the throne, on Nesta's life, is vanquished.

Shaking himself, he pushes into Emerie's shop. "Good morning."

She looks up. "You're back. Hello," she adds.

He gives her a smile. "Who was that?"

Emerie does not return his expression. "My baby cousin, Bellius," she says, bitter. "But never mind him." Just like that, Emerie phases out of her ire and into a cool, detached expression. Just like Nesta, he thinks. Perhaps that was why they liked each other-if they liked each other. "What can I help you with?"

"Perhaps you can help me," he says. "Nesta-Lady Nesta-you met here a few weeks ago?"

"Yes," she says, careful. "I remember."

"Well," he says, unsure of how to introduce the subject. "She's...started taking some self-defense lessons. For exercise. With me."

Emerie looks unconvinced. "For exercise?"

"And she thought you might be interested in joining. And that you have some friends who might be interested, too."

Emerie's face doesn't betray anything. She studies him, and it's been about ten seconds before she says, "Did she?"

"Yes," he says, feeling only slightly like perhaps the two of them training together might not be good for him.

"Hm," she says. After another minute of her own quiet deliberation, she says, slowly, "I will attend one of these lessons...and then I will...consult with my friends."

"All right," Cassian says, thankful that it's over. "Someone will be along to pick you up Monday morning."

He doesn't dawdle too long in saying goodbye. He has a lot to cover before Monday-figure out the best way to introduce self-defense to very traumatized, potentially, females, and now he'll have Emerie, and Nesta. What kind of dynamic will that create?

But he's been a soldier his whole life. Surely he can handle a few young females.

Hopefully.

---

Nesta has taken to carrying around her notebook wherever she goes, just in case she gets an idea of some new thing she can try. A girl named Deridre approaches her and asks her what self-defense is like, and if it's at all like the meditative yoga they do with the priestess Agata, so she writes that down. She goes to one of Daphne's lectures for the first time and learns about resuscitation and scrawls the name of a method to stop choking that seems simple enough to learn. Gwyn sees her writing and says, "You know, your finger nails are shaped so nicely. How come you never paint them?" so she adds that to her list, too.

She finds, actually, that it's quite nice to carry the book around. It's nice to have an excuse to write with such a fine pen. It's been years since she has.

Her sisters visit her over the weekend at her invitation and they are thrilled by her new things.

"I could teach you to paint," Feyre suggests.

Nesta wants to reply that the idea is to attempt things that do not make her want to pitch herself off the veranda, but instead she says, "You already tried that."

"Right," she says, deflating.

"But," she says, oddly disturbed by this response, and grasping for something to say, "maybe we can...sculpt. Or something. One day."

Feyre brightens at this. "Whenever you have time," she says, happily.

"How's self-defense going, Nesta?" Elain asks, would-be casual.

Nesta rolls her eyes. "You've heard we're inviting other girls?"

"Oh, Nesta, I just think it's such a grand idea-"

"Everyone's really excited about it, honestly, they've been trying for something like this for so long-"

"And with the Illyrian girls, Cassian said-"

"We know it's not exactly a unit, but still so impressive-"

"And we hear you're doing really well!"

"Yes! Really well! Maybe I could join you one day, too," Feyre says, hopeful.

"I'd watch. Or, or maybe even try some!"

Nesta takes a sip of water. She forgets how much noise these two make, honestly. "I don't think it's as exciting as you've imagined," she says. "Sure, you can come one day. Maybe not while the other girls...I'm a bit nervous," she confesses, suddenly. "Clotho and Thalia wouldn't let if they thought it was a bad idea, but I don't know..." She looks out onto the rainy city. The House keeps the interior warm for her, but sometimes she thinks she can still feel the cold in her bones anyway. "I mean, I'm the only one who ever leaves the library, and it could go really wrong. Obviously, no one's going to force herself to do this, and they can just no, but-uh," she finishes on a stammer, as she turns back to look at her sisters.

For there are shining silver tears in Elain's eyes, and Feyre's face looks cracked.

What has she said? What horrible thing has she done?

"No, no," Feyre says hurriedly, reading her expression.

"Sorry, Nesta," Elain says, bringing her hands to wipe her eyes. "It's just...it's just so nice to see you like this...about something."

"Oh," Nesta says, eventually.

Her sisters leave in the evening, but the likeness of their faces in her mind do not. Their expressions, their...love.

Is she really so different now, she wonders all weekend. Is she so much better? She doesn't feel particularly much of anything.

If this is better, then what had she been before?

Monday morning rolls around quickly, and she is decked in the uniform the House has supplied her and finished with a light breakfast, waiting at the arena on the roof before the sun has even fully risen.

"Nervous too?" Cassian says from behind her as he neatly lands in.

"I suppose," she says, not turning around.

"How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes."

He chuckles. "Maybe more nervous than I am. Well...shall we begin?"

"No one's here yet."

"So? We can start just the two of us." He shrugs out of his jacket. "Would put us at ease, at least, don't you think?"

Us, he says. Like they are the same. They get nervous by the same things and the same things calm them down and they do it all together.

"Yes," she says, clearly needing it.

The movements come easier than on Thursday. Each time she gets better, and it is, she will admit, a rare sort of feeling. To know that she is improving at something. To feel it in her blood and bones.

Cassian's instructions leave no room for worrying in her mind. When she slips out of his holds, breaks out of his grip, all she can think of are his body and hers, anticipation of his next move and victory when she gets it right, or disgruntlement when she is wrong. They move through the steps in sync, almost like the ballet she used to study, and she is so consumed with it that she does not notice until they are done that they have an audience.

Not a particularly big one. Gwyn, Deirdre, and Azriel has brought Emerie, but an audience nonetheless.

"All right," Cassian says. "So what Nesta and I just did is called the Grunge Hook." He launches through into an explanation of what it means and Nesta blinks as she realizes he must have known they all had arrived. Seen them, heard them.

Her cheeks go cold. She can never notice anything else when he's there. Certainly not as they were; touching, talking...

"So Emerie and Nesta, and, ah, Miss..."

"Gwyn," Gwyn says at the same time Deirdre says, "Deirdre."

"Right," Cassian says. "Well, you two pair up."

Emerie walks over to Nesta and they are ready faster than the other two. Nesta tenses. They have not yet been outside-perhaps this was a mistake-what will Gwyn think of her now? She won't sit next to her for lectures anymore, won't come help her put books away-

But it is only a moment, and then Gwyn turns to Cassian and says, "I guess we should have dressed differently."

"You can wear whatever you're comfortable with," he says. "And you don't have to do anything you don't want to, either."

So Deirdre keeps her hood secured on, but Gwyn shrugs her robe off entirely to reveal simple, like-colored dress. Perhaps she'd like leggings and a skirt like Nesta's, she thinks. If she decides to continue...if other girls decide to join...

Emerie's, surprisingly, not as good at the movements as Nesta is. Surprisingly because Nesta doesn't really think of herself as good at this, just better than before, and because, well, Emerie's Illyrian, and all the Illyrians Nesta knows...

"It's your wings," Azriel says, approaching. "They throw you off balance."

She droops. "So I can't. Because I'm clipped."

Nesta flinches-it's such an ugly word. But what to say?

Azriel answers before she can, his shadows clearing from his face. "Of course not," he says, patient. "Just hold yourself this way," and he shows her how to maneuver her wings.

Emerie seems as though her emotions sway easier than Nesta's, as she appears cheered up by this. "Let's try again," she says to Nesta.

And they do, but it is not like before, with Cassian. It is not as in sync, and she is not as focused. Over on the other side, under Cassian's watch, Gwyn and Deirdre are doing even worse.

When the hour is done, Deirdre hurries back down faster than she has moved throughout the whole lesson, and Gwyn shoots Nesta a small smile, and nods her head once at Azriel, before saying, "Good to see you again," and leaving. Emerie says, "Thanks for thinking of me," and perhaps sounds a bit more genuine, but she turns to ask Azriel to take her back right after, and then she is gone too.

"Brilliant," Nesta says aloud, miserable.

Cassian looks over at her, surprised. "What?"

"Are you kidding me? That was horrible."

Cassian laughs. "Are you kidding me? That was great!"

"Enough," she snaps, skin burning. "I don't need-"

"Woah," he says, raising his hands. "Woah. Seriously, Nesta, what's wrong?"

She clenches her hands into fists. "Stop mocking me."

"I'm not!" he protests, and his stupid eyes are wide and innocent and his stupid voice is confused and concerned when he says, "Come on, why are you upset?" so she has no choice but to answer.

"They hated it and they were bad."

Cassian laughs again. A real laugh this time, with his head tilting back, and the sound echoing in the mountains. Her heart lurches. She ignores it.

"They did not hate it," he says, eyes twinkling. "And they were not bad. They're novices. Not everyone's a born natural like you, with a perfectly paired partner in me," he teases, winking, almost as though good-natured.

"They couldn't get away fast enough." Deirdre didn't even take off her hood. So much for helping other females.

Cassian's grin falters. Shit. Had she said that out loud?

He moves closer to her. "Do you know how many clipped Illyrian females have agreed to come to anything remotely similar to this?"

"You know I don't," she snaps, but he doesn't rise to her bait.

"None," he says, calm. "Emerie is the first. Do you know how long Deirdre's been in here?"

"No," she says. Longer than Gwyn, but not more than that.

"Since before Amarantha took over."

Nesta winces. Over fifty years, at least, then.

"And she came...you convinced her to come."

"I didn't," she says. "Thalia-"

"She told me," he interrupts. "She told me you told her what it was like and she wanted to try it."

Nesta stills at this. "Well...what does it matter if she just tries it once?"

He laughs-again! Why does he laugh so often? "Aren't you doing that? Trying things once? Oh, no, I don't mean it in a bad way, Nes, don't look like that. I'm just saying...okay. So it's not for everyone. Maybe she tries it once and never does it again. But it's still worth a whole fucking lot that she tried. And that's because of you. And how do you know she's not going to try again, anyway? Because she left when the hour was up?"

Nesta reddens slightly.

"Fuck," he says, and this time it doesn't amuse her, his easy swearing. "I-shit. Nesta. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings."

She startles. "I-what?"

"I just mean..." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Look. You did a good thing. Whether or not they continue, you did a good thing. And I think they will, for the record. Emerie might not want to come every day, you know, she might not have time...but I think Gwyn liked it enough."

Nesta feels something inside of her flutter. "She did?"

Cassian nods. "Definitely." He looks at her for another moment, then shakes his head.

"What?" she asks, dreading the answer.

"Nothing," he says. "I just don't understand how you can't possibly be so proud of yourself. Especially today." He shrugs slightly, completely oblivious to what is happening inside of her. That feeling from Clotho's office. What is that?

But it is gone as soon as it arrives, just like last time. He says, "See you tomorrow, Nesta," and leaves. And then she does too.

---

Cassian, Nesta learns over the course of the next few weeks, is right.

Not about her, obviously. But about the females still being interested.

Gwyn's excited about it. "I didn't realize you were so good," she gushes.

Nesta huffs in amusement. "Hardly."

"Well, better than the rest of us!"

"Just a bit more practice," she says. And there is something about the lessons with Cassian...though they don't do as much together, though, anymore. Not with the others there now. She almost wishes that she had not invited everyone for each of the lessons...maybe one morning with him just to herself.

But that's-that's just absurd. He's hardly hers.

Deirdre finds her that Monday, too, and thanks her for convincing her to go. Nesta privately wonders what on earth it was she had said that worked, because the conversation barely stands out in her mind, but she tells Deirdre she's glad to hear she enjoyed it, anyway.

"I think Roslin and Ananke would like it too," she says. "Thalia told them it would be good for them, but they were too nervous. I'll try and convince them...I didn't realize how much fun it would be," she adds with a gentle laugh.

Fun?

"Oh," Nesta says. "Oh...well, good. I mean, good to hear. I hope they...join too."

And Cassian is right about Emerie as well. She does not come on Tuesday, but she does on Wednesday, and tells Nesta she thinks she can keep coming twice a week.

"And your friends?" she asks.

"They're interested," she tells her. "But I think I have to work a little harder at convincing them."

Nesta nods, not wanting to ask what they might have stopping them from coming. Whatever happened to Emerie's wings-whoever had clipped her-perhaps those females have someone like that in their lives.

It is on the second Wednesday that Emerie arrives that Nesta asks her if she'd like to stay a while longer. She'd already asked Azriel the day before if he could possibly take her back after lunch, and he'd agreed.

There was something odd about talking to Azriel, she noticed. Something about those shadows. Something about the way they-looked?-at her. Something...

But Emerie agrees, if a bit shyly, and she asks Gwyn if she'd like to take lunch with the two of them instead of in the priestesses' dining hall, and Nesta has her new thing for the day: hosting people for a meal.

They ogle everything openly, jaws dropping as the House pulls out chairs for them and food appears as Nesta requests it.

"Thank you," she says.

"You're...talking to the House?" Gwyn asks.

"Yes."

"Oh. Thank you," she adds.

"Thank you," Emerie says quickly.

The House likes them too. Nesta can tell. There's a bit more effort being made here today, she thinks, as she notes a fancy bouquet in the middle of the table and finer china than she normally uses. Nesta smiles to herself.

Nesta searches for something she can say, a safe topic that has nothing to do with self-defense, but Gwyn beats her to it. "So, how do you two know each other?" she asks.

"Nesta came to Illyria to scare some rebels who are trying to kill her," Emerie answers casually.

Gwyn jerks her head towards Nesta. "Really?"

"Not quite how I would have phrased it," Nesta says. "But true enough, I suppose."

"Why are they trying to kill you?" Gwyn says, eyes wide.

Wonderful. What a fantastic luncheon this is.

"They don't like me very much."

"They're scared of her," Emerie says. "And they want to overthrow the High Lord and High Lady." She turns to Nesta. "What do you think of that?"

Nesta raises an eyebrow as she cuts into her food. "Of killing my sister and Rhysand? Well, I've certainly thought of it myself, at times."

They both laugh. Nesta blinks. Then she smiles slightly.

"I have to assume I'm against them," she says. "But to be honest, I don't really understand any of the politics here. I'm...not very well-informed."

"Oh, neither am I," Gwyn says, shaking her head. "It's terrible. I mean, I've lived in this court all my life, and I'm so pitifully ignorant. It's ridiculous. I don't know the first thing about Illyria, like. Or even Velaris, really. And I have no excuse. I live in a library, for gods' sakes."

"I don't know of any books I'd recommend for you to learn about Illyria," Emerie says, thoughtful. "Not unless you read Illyrian, that is."

"See, I didn't even know there was an Illyrian until you just said that. Pathetic."

"Can you recommend other books?" Nesta says, latching on the chance to steer the conversation away from the history of the Night Court and into perhaps the only topic she might be able to contribute to.

"Oh, of course," Emerie says, pausing to swallow. "What do you like?"

"Romance," Nesta says, as Gwyn says, "Adventure."

"Ooh, The Knight Society. That's both. You can read that together."

Gwyn grins at Nesta. "Book club," she says. "What's it about?"

Emerie launches into a description of the book-the series, actually-and eventually, Nesta finds herself not looking for things to say, but rather just...talking. Not forced. Not desperate. Just a part of the conversation. Easy, flowing...fun, almost.

Funny, at least. Emerie is clutching her sides laughing as she describes the worst romance novel she ever read and Gwyn giggles, her hands covering her mouth, but Nesta says thoughtfully, "That's not such a horrible idea, though."

"You think-"

"No, no, the premise is atrocious, yes," she says. "But that exact scene...that has potential."

"Potential, right," Emerie says, laughing still.

"No, I mean it," she says, but she lets it go, lets the conversation drift naturally.

She is disappointed when Azriel comes to take Emerie back, but picked up by the fact that they all are. Emerie promises to make time to stay for lunch again, either Monday or Wednesday of next week.

"This was so lovely," Gwyn says to her, wistful, as they walk down to the library together. "So much nicer than in the dining hall.

"Really?" Nesta says before she can stop herself. "Well...I eat lunch every day. You can join...if you'd like."

Gwyn brightens. "I would!"

So after two weeks of lessons with other girls (Roslin and Ananke have joined, and Lorelei and Ilana, too, though the later doesn't participate so much as watch), and more random assignments from Clotho, and new things for Thalia, Nesta finally finds herself with a few hours of quiet after Friday evening's lecture has been canceled.

"Shall we read?" she says to the House.

Lights flicker in answer. Too many for the usual yes or no. This means Nesta has to follow.

"All right," she says, standing. "To the veranda?" she asks. But it's too cold out, so she hopes not.

Instead, the House leads her to a room she hasn't been in since her first stay, upon first exploration. She has had no need.

"Oh," she says at the door, softly.

The knob turns slightly, not fully opening. The House giving her the final decision.

But she doesn't want to hurt its feelings, so she opens the door.

The music room-a conservatory, it can be called-just by the sheer size of it-is grander than she remembers. She had opened the door and not even stepped inside, that first time. Just stood there, frozen, before snapping the door shut and hurrying away.

She takes a slow step in, but almost as though she is being walked by some other being, she takes another, and then another, and before she knows it, she is seated at the piano.

Ballroom grand. Enormous. Sleek and glossy and it would sound just perfect, she knows.

Lights flicker from behind. She turns and lets out a little laugh.

"Thanks," she says, shaking her head at the spotlight, "but I don't think I'm going to be learning the trumpet this evening."

The lights stop, as if the House is acquiescing.

The lights above her now flicker briefly. So will you play the piano, then?

Nesta inhales and exhales deeply. Slowly. Again. And again. The same way Cassian has her do after lessons.

There's really...there's really nothing stopping her. There's no reason not to. If she were to pick up her notebook and write down the reasons why she can't play right now, there wouldn't be any.

So why can't she do it?

She doesn't have an answer. So with another deep breath, Nesta closes her eyes and gently presses her thumb to middle C.

The sound is soft, and then that feeling, from with Thalia and Clotho, and Cassian, hits her again. But as she hits the second note, it does not fade away. It stays this time. So she plays.

#nessian #nessian fic #acosf fic #acotar fic #nesta archeron #whatever the hell am i supposed to tag this asssssss????????#anyway. i'm thrilled to be sharing this!!#cannot WAIT for next chapter also #because nesta had to go on a journey to get to her journey #because she was in such a bad place!!#but here she's like...she's been getting better but not good #and now she can start getting good you know??#so exciting #hope y'all enjoy<3 #oh and btw i don't about you but i'm turning 22 next friday when i post chapter seven #so in case you were looking for a sign to share what you think...this is it #😌#lol #but kind of for real

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nirikeehan · 2 years

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WIP Wednesday

I'm 2 hours out from Wednesday here but whatever. I've been picking at this prompt for Bad Things Happen Bingo for weeks... maybe one day soon I'll finish it. Featuring Thalia, a grumpy Blackwall, and a lot of dramatic irony.

I like thinking of all the times Blackwall could have told the truth and didn't. Because I'm a masochist.

---

“How many caves are there in this region?” Thalia wondered as she and Blackwall descended into yet another ravine. The closest opening gaped at them like a hungry mouth.

“Too bloody many,” Blackwall muttered.

She shot him a playful look. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it in the last stinking hole we had to excavate.”

Thalia halted in front of the cave, studying Blackwall with growing unease. He had been distant lately, his silences punctured only by this terse surliness. At first she had blamed the abysmal weather, but then they had taken care of the undead problem in Crestwood’s old sunken village. The clouds had cleared, giving way to light sun showers and a breathtaking view of the valley. The grass itself sparkled with the water drops, and the air smelled fresh. It had lifted her spirits, but not his.

Honestly, this had been ongoing since their meeting with Hawke and her Grey Warden friend Stroud, in a cave not unlike this one. It had spooked her, the revelation that all Grey Wardens were hearing some sort of false Calling. It lurks like a wolf in the shadows around a campfire, Stroud had described it.

How terrible it must be, to have that in your head all the time. Blackwall had never said a word. Initially, Thalia had marveled at his restraint and poise, but now she wondered if the whispers in his head were affecting him more than he let on.

“If you’re feeling unwell, you can go back to camp, you know,” she said softly.

“I’m not unwell,” he snapped. “And you’re like to fall and break your neck if you go on alone.”

She didn’t like his implication. Did he think she would be useless on her own? “I could catch up with Varric and Dorian,” she retorted, sounding more defensive than she intended. They’d all set out together, but with the sheer amount of ground to cover, she’d made the decision to divide the group in two.

Uh oh, Varric had said. Haven’t you ever read any adventure novel ever written? When Thalia blinked in confusion, Dorian piped up, Our dear wordsmith is right. It’s never a good idea to split the party.

She had done it still, and was beginning to regret it. At least Dorian and Varric broke up the monotony of Blackwall’s brooding.

Her companion scoffed. “With a wyvern and a dragon roaming around? Please. We’ll be finding your pretty little bones scattered about the valley for months.”

Thalia gaped, stung. When he talked like this, lip curled nastily, he felt like an entirely different person.

Noticing her reaction, Blackwall’s expression softened. His hand twitched at his side, and for a moment she thought he might reach out to her. She imagined him taking her gently by the arm and confiding in her about whatever was the matter.

Instead, he clenched his jaw and looked away. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Thalia took a steadying breath. “Fine.”

---

Tagging:

@monocytogenes | If you see this and wanna do it, I tag you!

#wip wednesday #blackwall #thalia trevelyan #blackwall x trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #fics

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tams-writeblr · 3 years

Text

The Cost of Knowing - General Questions

During the last month I read the book The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris, a black writer and long time participant of NaNoWriMo. @readerbookclub published their questions for members of their club who've read the book on July 1st and I'm gonna do my best to answer them as good as I can. I wanted to point out, that this is the first novel I've read in English since my school days and while my English is good enough to understand everything, it was still an unusual feeling having a book that's not in my mother tongue before me. Now on to the questions:

1. What did you think of the book? What were the things you enjoyed and the things you didn’t enjoy?

In my opinion it was a very good book. I honestly enjoyed reading it and while I mostly did read the book during my lunch breaks at work, I sometimes really struggled to put it away. While it typically wouldn't be the book I would choose for myself (it's MC is very far away from my own living reality and as stated above, I usually don't read books in English and it hasn't been translated (yet)) I am glad I was pointed to read this amazing story. It gave me insights of the truth of so many people and fears that I as a white woman never have to worry about. I really enjoyed how the book portrayed Alex' struggle with what it meant to be a man, how the somewhat old-fashioned views of his father would conflict with Alex fragile and anxious personality. I also related a lot to Alex when it came to going into crowds since I myself had a very grave anxiety of crowds when I was a teen and early twen.

2. What are your thoughts on the plot? What were the things you liked and the things you didn’t like?

The plot is rather compact going only on for a few days with necessary flashbacks. At first I was surprised by Alex "curse" to see the future 'cause the blurb made me think touching this photo would cause a one time event of a vision while instead he always had those visions while touching something. I can't imagine how horrible that must feel... Overall I like everything about the plot, the only thing that I would have liked is to know a little more about Isaiah's point of view. I know the book is written from Alex' perspective and this kind of limitation comes with a first person narrator. This is the reason nower days I prefer reading books in third person as it gives you the insight on all important characters. I personally would have loved to know if Isaiah believed everything that Alex said about his future or if he felt that he might be lying maybe even knew from his own ability. I actually thought his ability was more interesting than Alex' and would have loved to know more about it! The other thing that I didn't like was Alex' whole dealing with his "curse". That was getting on my nerves through out the book. It is very clear that he really loves Thalia so why doesn't he trust her enough to tell her about it. I know he was afraid because of the Shaun-incident but he was a freaking scared kid when all that happened. Imp it would have been a shit move from Thalia to blame him for what happened when he really took the time to explain everything to her (that what he sees is definite etc.). She would probably have understood his fear of loosing Isaiah too and that whole unnecessary fight before the concert could have been avoided.

3. What scene did you find most emotional in this book?

Surely the one around the shooting on the concert. I was holding my breath during that scene since secretly I still hoped Isaiah's future could still be adverted, I really don't wanted him to die... I was almost sure it would happen at the concert and I seriously wasn't ready to read him die. The scene of his death itself wasn't so emotional since it kind of happened out of nowhere (what surely makes it even more unbearable for Alex).

4. If there’s one character you could meet, who would they be and why?

Oh I would love to meet Thalia, she seems like a great girl and reminds me a lot on myself when I was her age, always changing hair colors and the way she dresses. I think we'd get along well.

5. Were the characters convincing? Or did they come across as unrealistic?

Hm, that's kind of though. Some reactions weren't realistic imo. Like Thalia's before the concert when she found out about the "curse". I don't think that beetle as a proof for Alex' skills would be enough for me personally. And I don't think I would instantly jump on conclusions that he also knew that her brother would die. For me it didn't get clear if she really believed him 'cause it's never mentioned again that she ask him about the curse, why it's gone etc. but of course that could be off screen (what would be dumb...). So in total the characters came across as realistic but with unrealistic touches.

6. Would you recommend this book to a friend? Why or why not?

Already have =) Gave the book to my fried yesterday. I really think it's a great story and made me wonder about the issues poc are still facing in today's society. I also had a really intense conversation with a friend of mine how's from Ivory Coast and his experiences with the police and I was shocked that it's just the same here in Germany as it is in the US. He also had a cop sitting on his neck, luckily only for two minutes but he still feared for his live. I would everyone recommend to read this book since it really opens your eyes about the injustice that poc are still living with.

7. Would you consider re-reading it in the future?

I don't re-read book much tbh. But I'd consider it if it ever gets translated. And I would love to see a movie! The soundtrack would be amazing! (I created a playlist with the artists that are mentioned in the book and it's my power playlist now xD)

Thank you @readerbookclub for the great questions and this wonderful (for me) first reading recommendation. I'm looking forward on discussing the book with you guys and I hope we are talking soon!

#readerbookclub #readerbookclub asks #booklr #book discussion #the cost of knowing #brittney morris #long post

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thecrenellations · 3 years

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Return of the Thief Notes, Part Three: The Book of Pheris, Volume 2, Chapters 6-14 and “Alyta’s Missing Earring”

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part One | Part Two | TaT)

Contents: Elephants, guesses about gods and dead men, villain team up, the unexpected, AAAAAAH, elaboration on the word cloud above (which is one big Gen, medium Pheris, medium love, and scattered other names), and more quantitative analysis! I love this book.

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Chapter 6

285. unkingly moment, last night with her at home

MISMATCHED STOCKINGS (I have a thing about this.)

Wedges of ribbons?

285. cute

286. a pitneen? A drunk bird?

Wait. Gift of animals??? Did he steal the thunderbolts wearing it?

A canary no longer

287. Hilarion and Ion, wow

Throw a cup of wine on me

288. War pants! War pants!

What’s Attolia wearing?

Sophos! (the whistling!)

288. Ok fine it’s gonna be sad ... I say as if I didn’t just experience the trial (the last lighthearted moment)

Pepper!

Be careful Pheris

Also Relius went to Dite and Juridius, right? (I was convinced Dite would show up)

Sinerine!

290. SOCKS! Yay <3 magus

I was resigned to not much magus but he is HERE!

He’s … so much nicer than he was to the kids in the Thief, lol

A CART!

Lamb, falling in same paragraph. Worried.

Gen :( Gen you ran all over the palace and leapt in the water last night. You are so stupid.

292. Yay Sophos I love you

Math buddies!

294. I’M SAD.

They have had this convo before

I love them

It’s because I can that I think I should

295. Do not overreach. Eddis is right

Danger in self indulgence?

I love her! “I was outside chasing your brother with a stick”

296. My heart. You have to trust yourself. I don’t know if I can. Then you have to trust us.

Tactical Irene!

Thanks I’m gonna hold on to it: “The Call of life is a s powerful as the call of death, and it is no weakness to answer to it”

297. Oh no. My children. Tell each other things like that!

Great time to be childish, Gen.

Yeah honestly. It’s bothered her FOREVER

299. Pull it together, kids!

Thx Helen

Inkpots … :( :( :(

Chapter 7

302. See … that Continent occupation isn’t good either!

303. Unfortunately that is NOT an alternative. Bc volcano.

305. This is stressful.

Chloe, interesting

306. Elephants

Oh my god it’s better than I ever could have imagined (there was like 10 years of lead up to the elephants, and I thoroughly enjoyed them)

I love him

Gen wtf

Yes drink up those guards (“We could keep [an elephant] in the guard’s bathhouse! There’s plenty of room.” “And the guards will bathe ...?” “In the palace reservoir.” “Our drinking water.”)

#6 Gen about elephants

308. This is gonna be a disaster

Hilarion with an eyeglass

Fuck Pheris is making this up.

Gen I love you

Oh my god

Honestly idk if Gen is having fun but I AM

They’re. They’re such a power couple.

Also Bu-seneth is so rude to Attolia

309. so vague about battle, but I’m sure it’s horrible

310. hero talk. Chills.

311. all the woman comparisons for Gen (“Would [a world with no war and no heroes be a bad thing?” “That’s a woman’s question”)

Wow. Interesting. Anonymity

312. Don’t listen to them Gen!

Bad tempered cooks

313. lol. Good looks.

Gen. the hand joke. Why

Well that was … a scene (I don’t know my Henry V)

Reassuring to have a glove. Which one?

314. No. Bad. This is what I was afraid of. (Nahuseresh baiting Gen with Kamet)

Ok Pheris

315. That cannot be true. (it was not!)

Gen. No. No.

316. Wow. That worked out well. So far.

They called him annux. If Kamet is really dead…

319. Yeah Attolia is RIGHT

Yeah I can’t actually either!

Irene knows. In his story!

320. Glove resolved very fast

Interesting reversal (Gen and his dad)

Maddening!

Chapter 8

322. who’s charging off in a haze of glory now

Philologos wounded

Wait, the attendants follow him in to battle...

Cleon RIP

Temenus <3

No. Stenides

If they ever returned.

His brother died in an explosion

Gen’s tears

This is sad.

323. lion lamb :(

325. At least they have each other

Morality is an illusion. Like safety?

326. that’s what Costis was mapping, right? (nope)

How many has Gen killed now

328. Who. Pol? Ambiades? (The cairn man question remains)

Oh no

Oh no. you can fall from a horse

HILARION!

Is Fordad a spy?

I am just not accepting this yet

WAIT THE MEDES TOOK HIM! (I thought the Attolians had taken Gen, or Gen’s body, at first.)

330. wow things only Pheris can do

GDI Erondites

WOW THIS IS A VILLAIN TEAM UP

332. You gave it to him dude (Nahuseresh asking “Why does he still have this?” about Gen’s hook)

I love Gen. I wonder if he’s afraid.

This is bad.

Whose treason, whose betrayal?

333. Yeah! Kamet said so (“Tell me again that you are king.” “Annux, if you prefer.”)

334. Oh god.

Get your stories straight bastards

Rolled in a rug!

336. Oh gen

Oh god

Yeah this is …

Be careful what you ask for

338. What did he sign as, though, Attolis? Eugenides?

Nomenus wtf

What does mwt have against facial hair (Fordad, Nahuseresh)

Costis please come (idk how I thought he was going to help, but I was in Costis Denial and expected him to show up at any moment)

Everyone must be going through a lot

A face like an open grave

Gen.

Gen I love you

YES

Is he … invulnerable now?

Gen what.

Is he possessed? Is he already a god?

341. Yeah same. (“I think he meant that I should not fear him, either. I did, though ... I still followed him”)

This isn’t being self indulgent or overreaching, is it?

342. RIP Ion Nomenus

“My work”

Oh Nomenus

Does he just exist for the morally gray and loyal angst feelings? It works (...)

344. What did he DO

Yes! Swearing Gen!

345. love all caps Gen

Those names

Aaah

346. Ooof.

Chapter 9

347. moon promises

Yeah

Noooo Philologos :(

Legarus … :(

349. Gen what what

Sparks

Costis? Stenides? STENIDES?

Wow ok he killed Bu-seneth

350. god

See I said Nahuseresh shouldn’t have said that

Also is Gen a bastard

351. WHAT (“Because your council had just voted to kill him”)

Oh Helen

Oh Irene

Does he invite him in?

This is reassuring to the reader (“He can bear his god a little while without losing himself”)

Aaaaah Galen

354. Gen that’s a lot. A lot.

Don’t kill everyone.

So so so x7 of doom

Bye Yorn

I hope he wins too

Go away Nahuseresh

Omg

another fall

Interregnum

Ok it was Lader (when you don’t know who the man at the cairn was, keep on guessing!)

Yeah the circumstances thing is back

Oh god

Oh no

Chapter 10

361. how long has it been?

362. three days

I love them (Elephants! My excellent queen!)

You promised to trust him

364. Oh no. Oh no. (Relius)

370. These Helen convos…

371. Sad. :(

372. Emtis and Lader

Yeah.

Omg

374. Wow

Steal by elephant?

377. Don’t forget about Dite!

378. He’s gonna kill him?

379. Is Dite dead too?

Oh Sejanus

Oh I see

He’s got a mercy taste too

380. Switching!

Lying in moonlight. Hm.

381. Yesss

Nooooo

383. I’m nervous

Gods blessing on your road

Wow. <3

They would have fallen… (if Pheris had gone through with his plan, that’s how they both would have died)

Did not expect Sejanus feelings in Rott.

Chapter 11

386. He’s gonna know. But the trust.

Ion knows.

390. Gen…

Pheris is Lyopidus?

I’m scared

393. I kind of love Ion

More Sejanus, bring it on

I’m nervous

Hmmm… who could it be

395. MoW :( <3 I will not be ok if he dies too

Gen knows the way bc Costis (nope)

Oh my god these two (“I lied” “I know”)

Chapter 12

398. Oh no.

This is not

Her Thief

Irene. “only sleeping” this is what Eddis said to her

But mist… water???

Face touch

402. not living or dead. King

Yes. But no.

403. crying at everything and the MoW next to him

There he went

It was the Eddisians. He fought with them.

404. yeah that’s a lot to deal with, Pheris

405. what a mystery man (Sejanus)

Lol mysterious exit averted

Excuse me that was a difference

406. :(

Am I king

407. Helen is once again right. She’s also always right

MOIRA was Melisande???!??!? (who even knows)

409. ?? Irene?

Same as for Dite. Man loves his brothers. (nephews. you know what I mean.)

Nice.

AAH yup. Add it to the list (“How neatly you tie them together” ... the list of is ways Gen and Irene are becoming more like each other)

410. speaking of which where is Costis!

Hm… what god was that

I love their reactions

411. SPLENDID.

Oh Irene. It’s true <3

It’s so true (“When the king gives his heart he gives it completely”)

Now I’m crying again, at them

412. Gen, she has a point.

Amazing. I … I don’t think she meant to ask like THAT

Jesus, Gen.

You do not know a wagon from a wheelbarrow

413. Irene!

She’d better get home safe.

Gen!

Omg

414. I have another bad feeling, about Gen

415. High king or queen though?

Magus <3

Chapter 13

416. “of course”

That’s ominous

417. No! Sejanus!

A gut wound yikes

418. sadness

419. lol “ill will”

We’re in Roa. My heart’s pounding.

422. I love Gen.

YESSS

Yes I love them.

Sheep.

Kamet!!!

?!?

Costis. Mattresses exist.

424. Oh no.

426. roof dream

Good roof dream

Good job Helen

428. TWINS. Everyone was RIGHT

Reyatimi

Oh shit. The sky.

Oh dear. :( aaah

430. Climbing the rigging!

“it’s just that you have so many least favorite things”

431. I love them (Gen and Irene)

432. I love them (Gen and Helen)

433. RIGHT! I was thinking

I can’t <3 (they’re naming the baby after the MoW, and it’s perfect, and she’s not gonna tell us, huh)

OH MY GOD!!! (baby thief!)

WOW!

434. AAAAAAH (Hector! @threetoadswaltz finished reading before me and knew that I would explode about this and I DID, I threw my arms in the air! HECTOR!)

PERFECTION!

435. AAAAAAAAH (this was when it became clear they were going to dance on the roof)

Yes she was (as surefooted as the king)

Is this the first time she’s Irene

Yes.

I’m filled with happiness

Celia and Lavia again … lol.

Lol Chloe

THALIA

CRENELATED wall

HE’S ALIVE

Kamet is a sweetheart

The gods!!!

The gods!

Aracthus

Mystery goddess?

Ula?

Moira! Yes!

(I was very happy. The page itself:)

Alyta’s Missing Earring

Wait. Was it Alyta.

Glad we got a bi god (with all due respect to Immakuk and Ennikar, whose bi-ness and godliness is perhaps more up to the reader)

Got very bi very fast

Also. He’s Gen.

Interesting difference in story

Kathodicia!

Are we literally getting ALL the answers? (No. But so many more than I expected!)

Gen’s grandfather sucks

An urn huh

Omg. Heiro’s earrings?

Oh my gosh.

Same, Gen. Same.

Obvs Phresine knows.

Is Phresine a goddess?

Same, Gen. Same.

She got to tell a story! She is so happy!

I think he’s a little scared

Moleskin

Yeah peace huh

This series is socially sanctioned silliness

1000 Eugenides. Wow.

They did melt though

Little thief.

<3 <3 <3

He’s a character in a story

A big question

Tamarisk? Takima? (We are not getting all the answers.)

That’s it! Thank you for reading - it feels very self-indulgent to type up all of these, but I will honestly take most chances to relive the intense and wonderful experience of reading this book for the first time, which often means looking back at my own notes and sometimes means sharing them with people. Also, I really love reading liveblogs/real-time book thoughts, so here is one from awhile ago ... all at once.

Anyway, check out this word cloud from all of the notes (made with this site):

It’s ... mostly just character names, with a variety of words that express my enthusiasm and feeling (love, lol, wow, yes, excuse me...). Gen is the biggest because I said his name 115 times! Here are some totals for the other characters who came up a lot:

115 - Gen (and 10 Eugenides)

42 - Pheris

26 - Costis

18 - Irene (and 6 Attolia)

16 - Helen (and 8 Eddis)

10 - Sophos (and 4 Sounis)

12 - the magus

11- Kamet

11 - Teleus

10 - Relius

9 - Ion

6 - MoW

6 - Moira

5 - Sejanus

These don’t fully represent how much I had to say about them, because I didn’t always refer to people by name or title ... which kind of explains why Costis’s total is ridiculously high compared to how much he is in the book - I likely have more notes about other characters, but I didn’t need to bring up their names because they were already present in the scenes I was taking notes on (for example, I think I talked about Relius more than Teleus, the magus, or Kamet, but many of those just referred to him as he, because it was obvious to me who I meant). But also I was just looking for Costis! Anyway. My use of names and titles for the monarchs also really illustrates how much this book reshaped the way I think of these characters’ relationship to them, Gen’s and Irene’s especially.

It’s representative of my feelings about this series that I wrote “I love them” about so many combinations of characters. Who, exactly? And how many times? Well...

5 - Gen and Irene

4 - Gen and Helen

2 - Gen and Pheris

1 - Gen, Irene, Helen, and Sophos

1 - Helen and Sophos

1 - Costis and Kamet

1 - unknown combo of Gen, Pheris, and Relius on p.166, I love them all and can’t remember. Kamet’s map was there, too, and I do love Kamet, so maybe he was in there too.

no matter what the numbers say, I love them all endlessly, and I love this book.

be blessed in your endeavors, yes I will take any questions about these notebook screams, etc.

#annotating this caused me to look back at so many scenes i will never be over #aaah #return of the thief #the queen's thief #mwt #return of the thief spoilers #rott spoilers #something i #hey #threetoadswaltz #i tagged you because i mentioned you but reading this is not Required #you know it all anyway. ... this time ;)#it was just your exploding comment

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phykios · 3 years

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honesty and promise me, part 2 [read on ao3] [co-written with @darkmagyk]

Goth isn’t really Annabeth’s scene—hasn’t been since she was twelve, hiding in her room and blasting Evanescence or Avril Lavigne so she didn’t have to spend quality time with her brothers, or even talk to her stepmother at all—but Percy had insisted. She could almost picture his pathetic, baby seal-eyed face as he wheedled and whined at her over text, until she eventually (not at all reluctantly) gave in.

She’s only known him for a few weeks. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly her willpower had crumbled.

Thalia, for whatever reason, had decidedly not been game, even when presented with a large, post-bartending hangover coffee as an opening salvo. “This is a bad idea,” she had said, glaring at the sun so intensely that, were it not for her thick, black sunglasses, she probably would have vaporized it.

“We don’t have to go.”

“No, the show will be great. Pluto’s Daughter is great,” she said between sips of her too-bitter-to-be-real black coffee. “You and Percy, is a bad idea.”

“Protective of your baby cousin?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow, her eyebrow ring awkwardly bumping up against her hair, sorely in need of a shave. She was thinking of getting a second ring. Her mother had once told her that they were the epitome of trash—but Thalia had two, and they looked so badass.

She scoffed. “He’s not the baby.”

“Then there’s no problem.”

Thalia narrowed her eyes, really considering Annabeth. Annabeth’s own eyes had been described more often than not as storm clouds, dark and heavy. If hers were storm clouds, then Thalia’s were lightning, electric blue, piercing, beautiful, and dangerous, with a temper to match. “Before you started seeing him,” she said, “I’d have said that you’d eat him alive.”

Annabeth smirked. “I have done no eating yet.”

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, now I’m going to be honest with you. He’s going to eat you alive—and your self-esteem is never going to be able to recover. Honestly, I shouldn’t even let you two within ten feet of each other.”

She scoffed, taking a long drink of her own coffee, black but with just enough sugar to make it bearable.

As if a ballerina would ever intimidate her. A fucking ballerina.

The conversation hadn’t exactly ended the way either of them wanted, but Annabeth was still going to keep fucking Percy for the time being, and Thalia was going to let herself be dragged to the damn concert.

The night of, the bar has a line, but Thalia alternately sweet-talks and intimidates the bouncer, and he lets them in. Having tended bar for any place that would take her and not put her on the payroll, Annabeth assumes that she just has dirt on everyone in the service industry in New York City, so they skip a lot of cover charges, and get a lot of free drinks.

It's fucking crowded inside, too, packed to the brim with sweaty bodies and heavy boots. Just another day in paradise.

Thalia glances at her phone. “They’re at the bar, up front?”

“They?”

Thalia doesn’t hear her, apparently, just wraps her mesh covered hand over Annabeth’s wrist and pulls her through the crush of people. Annabeth has her eyes peeled for Percy’s typical blue hoodie or orange muscle tees, thinking that they would stand out like a sore thumb in this place, but she can’t see a goddamned thing.

Now, punks aren’t exactly known for their radical use of color, but this was another thing entirely, a sea of black and lace and leather. Looking for his black hair is a waste of her time. “So many bad bottle jobs,” she murmurs.

Thalia pauses for a second, frowning at her. “What?”

“Everyone here has decided that they just had to dye their hair black. How original.”

She is silent for a moment, squinting, then looks away. “I see them, come on.”

Her blunt nails dig into Annabeth’s arm as she yanks her even harder.

There, at the end of the bar, a tall guy stands, dressed to the nines—the nines of this particular scene, anyway.

He looks kind of familiar: curly black hair in a sharp undercut that Annabeth definitely admires, extremely tight, black skinny jeans that leave nothing to the imagination and really went out of style with My Chemical Romance, a t-shirt with a skull on it (because goths, obviously), and a leather jacket, covered in patches. She spots the Italian flag, several for Pluto’s Daughter and a handful of other bands, a pride flag, a couple of music notes, and one that says, “Not gay as in happy, queer as in fuck you.”

“Annabeth,” says Thalia, “you remember Nico.”

Annabeth blinks. The last time she’d met Nico, he’d been wearing a three-piece suit that had cost as much as her rent. Now the hand she shakes has black fingernails and a skull ring, leading up to a face with eyes lined heavier than either Thalia’s or Annabeth’s, with a septum ring and a line of studs up one ear. “Hey.”

“Where’s our prima ballerina?” Thalia asks as Nico offers her a glass of something brown.

Thalia likes—and cannot often afford—expensive booze, which means that Nico must be paying. Unwilling to be caught in another embarrassing little social snafu, Annabeth tries really hard to remember what it is that he does. Hadn’t he sold his soul to some law firm or other?

“He went to consign himself to a slow and agonizing death,” says Nico.

“What?” Annabeth asks, glancing between the cousins.

Thalia rolls her eyes. “He means Percy went out for a smoke. Nico doesn’t approve.”

“It’s bad for you! This is not a controversial topic,” he says. “I don’t like that he does it, I don’t like that he got you to start, and I’m not going to like it when I go to both of your funerals. But I am going to tell you I told you so.” Then, seemingly as if to undermine his point, he throws back the rest of his own drink, holding up the empty glass to the bartender. “Another,” he calls, “Godfather, if you please.”

If drinks were on Nico tonight, maybe Annabeth could use the cover of the goth crowd to order a glass of red wine instead. It would certainly be a nice change of pace from the shit-ass beer she sucks down on the regular.

“There he is!” Thalia calls, bursting into applause. “The hell took you so long? Wardrobe malfunction?”

“Yeah,” she hears Percy’s voice. “Someone stole my best pair of tights.”

Turning, Annabeth is suddenly very glad she hadn’t yet ordered a drink, because then she would have dropped it, spilling it all over not only the dirty bar floor, but also her second favorite pair of boots.

It’s definitely Percy, but she never would have spotted him. Having gone to a dozen or so shows with her and Thalia so far, he had always dressed pretty consistently in baggy jeans and whatever stupid dance pun t-shirt Annabeth hadn’t pilfered already to wear to breakfast: very normal, and just a little bit out of place for the goth/punk scene.

Tonight, he is not dressed like that.

She can’t focus on everything all at once, so she starts with his too tight t-shirt, with the logo for Pluto’s Daughter splashed across it, like the artist had taken paint and hurled it at the fabric from a mile away. Ripped and sleeveless, she can see every single ridge and line of his biceps, his forearms, his shoulders, even a bit of his decolletage. His pants are black, per the unspoken dress code, and baggy, but he has belts wrapped up and down his legs, emphasizing the size of his muscular thighs and calves. And that isn’t even the worst part. Neither are the studs in his ears, or the black liner around his eyes.

The worst part is the blue lipstick painting his mouth, making his eyes pop, making his troublemaker smile look that much more depraved.

The worst part is how that blue lipstick will almost certainly be all over her thighs by the end of the night.

Thalia’s advice was never going to win out, but now it has no chance.

Despite being dressed up like the goth ballet prince of her dreams, the hero of an angsty, middle school novel Annabeth might have dreamed up instead of paying attention in class but had been too embarrassed to ever write it down, he smiles at her, cheery and bright as ever, kissing her so deeply her mouth must turn blue. In the corner of her eye, she sees Thalia and Nico exchange a capital-L look, one that Percy can’t see, because all of his attention is focused on her. She doesn’t know what that means, but she’s too far gone to ask.

Percy moves away, still close, still oriented around her, but she has to clasp her own hands together to keep herself from reaching out and pulling him back to her, biting her tongue, rubbing the ring along the inside of her teeth to keep from letting the word “please” escape her lips.

She doesn’t think she’s ever been so instantly taken with any guy—ever. Not even the almost one night stand her sophomore year was college, nineteen and fresh-faced and totally unprepared for the heartbreak that would follow. Last time, Luke had suggested wine to help her get over her mystery man, so that’s what she orders now, taking too big sips and ignoring the slight concern in Percy’s too pretty eyes.

It’s all packaging, she thinks, packaging designed to make the product more desirable. Basic marketing and design. She knows him, and she knows what he can do with his teeth and his tongue and his hand and his dick. She recognizes it, sees it coming, so she won’t be affected by it.

“I didn’t know you were coming, Nico,” she says, wrangling her thoughts together. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Never miss a show,” he says.

“Flew back from London just for it,” Thalia says, bumping him with her shoulder.

“I flew back because my business trip was over,” he corrects. “…But I did take the redeye so I’d be here on time.”

Percy beams at that, so hard she can actually feel it. “Anyone else joining us I should know about?” Annabeth asks.

It’s so weird to look at them all together—all dark hair, strong jaws, cheekbones carved from stone, sexy and just a little bit intimidating. “Any other cousins, maybe?”

Nico glances at Percy, suddenly apprehensive. “Actually, Percy,” he says, “I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“Perseus Jackson!” A whirlwind of blue-green silk assaults her senses as a woman sweeps over to them, headed straight for Percy, almost knocking Annabeth out of the way, wrapping him up in a hug and ignoring everyone else. “How’s my darling little brother?”

Percy awkwardly pats her on the back, shooting a grimace at the rest of them. “Uh, hey, Kym. I… didn’t know you’d be here.”

“It was a last minute thing, I had a free night for once in my life and was casting about for something to do, you know how much I hate not working, and I thought I’d come by and support our dear Hazel.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Since when have you been into goth rock?”

It’s not an unwarranted question. She looks wildly out of place here, in her sleek, silk dress and the scent of Dolce and Gabbana’s Light Blue coming off her like waves, in sharp contrast to the sea of ripped jeans and sewed up shirts that surround them.

Kym, again, ignores him. “Mojito, Perseus? I know it’s your favorite.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows shoot up past her hairline. Percy? Percy half-a-cider-no-thank-you-I-don’t-care-for-any-more Jackson likes to drink mojitos? “Ah—” He grimaces, trying to extract himself from her grip, “no, thank you—"

“Oh, you’re no fun anymore.”

“I just don’t like to—”

“Well it’s not like this place will have any rum worth drinking anyway,” she sniffs.

Thalia rolls her eyes.

“Here, take a selfie with me.” Her phone is already raised, thumb poised for action.

“Kym, come on—”

But she pulls Percy close, shoving his head against hers, mouth already pouting. Thalia sighs, turning back to the bar.

After a moment of refusal, Percy sighs too, giving into his fate, and mustering his best vogue for the camera. They make an odd pair, her with her perfect Instaglam and him with his blue lipstick and smudged liner, but with the two of them pressed together like this, it’s easy to tell that this Kym is another cousin. Same eyes, same brow, same inky black hair, she looks exactly like Percy, only whiter.

Satisfied with her selfie, it’s only then that she notices Annabeth staring at her. “And you are?”

Percy sighs, rubbing his eye. “Kym, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, this is my sister Kymopoleia.”

Kym does not reach out her hand. “And what do you do?”

Thalia, from nowhere, slings an arm over Annabeth’s shoulder, whisky in hand. “Nothing that would interest you, leech.”

“I’m an architect,” Annabeth offers.

“My friend studies at Bartlett, in London. Did you go there?” Kym asks.

“No,” Annabeth says, biting back an automatic retort about Bartlett’s global ranking in Forbes. Ninth in the world, not even top five.

Kym curls her lip a little, like she knew what Annabeth would have said anyway. “What have you designed? Anything I would know?”

“She designs community gardens and stages for festivals.” Thalia says.

“Oh, so not a real architect, then.”

“The Man doesn’t have to approve of something to make it real. No, her name isn’t on file in some state office. She’s an anarchist architect.” Thalia says. Annabeth bits back a line of her own retorts.

Kym sniffs again. “Thrilling.” Then she turns back to Percy, writing her off entirely. “Perseus, it was lovely to see you again—will you be coming to Santorini this year?”

“Depends on my rehearsal schedule.” The words sound very rehearsed. He’s said this exact phrase a lot.

“Well get that sorted out! You know how mother likes her itineraries.”

He nods, beleaguered. “As soon as I can, promise.”

“See that you do.” Then with a final kiss on Percy’s cheek, off she flounces, disappearing into the dirty, grungy crowd, leaving silence in her wake like the wreckage after a storm.

“Okay,” says Annabeth.

Percy sighs, turning to the bar to order his own drink.

“Sorry about that,” says Nico. “If I had known she was coming, I swear I would have told you.”

“You can’t just go around saying the word ‘cousin,’ Annabeth,” says Thalia, returning to her own space. “It’s like Beetlejuice. Say it three times and you summon one of Percy’s douchey relatives.”

“They’re your relatives, too.”

Thalia scoffs. “Barely.”

“Oh yeah?” asks Percy. “How’s Hercules?”

“Hopefully dead.”

“At least he doesn’t show up out of the blue in wildly incongruous places,” Nico points out.

Percy takes a pull of his drink, and Annabeth does not watch his neck as he swallows. “Yeah, what was up with that? Since when has Kym been into goth rock?”

“That’s what I said!”

“She’s planning something,” Thalia mutters, glaring angrily into her drink. “I don’t know what it is, but she’s planning something.”

“So, I’m guessing this isn’t usually her scene?” Annabeth asks.

“Art is her scene,” Thalia replies, gesturing widely, nearly smacking someone in the shoulder. “The whole of the New York art world.”

Looking back around to the half-lit bar full of badly dressed goths, she thinks maybe calling this the “art world” might be a little bit generous.

“She’s kind of like an art world barometer,” says Percy. “Wherever she goes, the critics follow—like little baby ducklings.”

“Too bad she’s a fucking snob about it.” Thalia tosses back the rest of her drink, slamming the glass down on the wood, signaling for another with a toss of her head.

“Shame she has such good taste,” Nico muses.

“She has such good taste!” Despite her bravado, Thalia is absolutely a tiny bit of a lightweight, the whisky already going to her head, slurring her speech just a little. “Whole fucking family’s so goddammed good at art.”

“Not the whole family,” says Percy, shaking his head. “Kym can’t make art, she just appreciates it, like Jason. And Triton can’t do either.”

Annabeth has never seen Thalia so much as draw a picture or pick a song at karaoke, but she had been left out of Percy’s little list. In all Annabeth’s years of knowing Thalia, she never even thought that it had bothered her. “I mean,” she says, “if you like art, you could—”

As one, Nico and Percy both shake their heads. Insistently. Violently.

Staring at her empty glass, Thalia doesn’t notice. Nico replaces hers with his half-finished one, and Thalia drinks without missing a beat. “What about you?” she turns to Annabeth, blue eyes wide. That’s another thing that the cousins all have in common; their eyes are a variety of colors, but they’re all the same wide, almond shape, made more pronounced with heavy, grungy liner. “Got any artistic cousins?”

“No,” she says, wondering how little she can get away with saying. “I only have one, and he’s not.”

Everyone stares at her.

She capitulates, just a little. “His partner is an artist,” she offers. “Alex is a sculptor.”

Percy looks at her, half-smile on his face. “What does your cousin do if he isn’t an artist?”

His question makes it sound like there are only two types of people in the world to him: artists and non-artists. Given that Annabeth had been sketching buildings since the time she had the dexterity to hold a crayon, it might be true. “He’s in med school,” she says, “fourth year, at Harvard.”

“Ew.” He wrinkles his nose.

“Okay, smartass,” she says, “you talk to your podiatrist like that?”

“You still fucking that med student?” Thalia asks Nico.

“Dating him, actually.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Dinner,” Nico says. “Sometimes lunch. This is going to shock you, but you can actually spend time with the people you sleep with, and even develop feelings for them.”

They glare at each other for a long moment, then, as one, turn and glare at Percy.

“No,” he says, “I am not getting in between this.”

Nico, somehow, glares even harder. “Come on, you’re—”

“I’m not talking about this,” Percy says, his face a hard mask, lips set firmly in a frown.

For the first time ever, it occurs to Annabeth that this ballet dancer could be scary if he wanted to be.

That is… so not a problem.

The cousins continue glaring at each other, the family telepathy practically brimming with unspoken pasts. A part of her really, really wants to hear where it’s going. She wants to know what Percy’s feelings are on romance, just to make sure that they are on the same page. Casual sex, fun nights, the occasional concert—that’s where they are now. If the arrangement is going to change, she’s going to need to know about it.

Then, the lights flicker, dimming. A roar takes over the crowd, and when Annabeth can see again, Pluto’s Daughter is onstage.

There’s no introduction, no greeting, the band diving right into their first number, an intense, high-octane whirlwind of drums and bass and screaming. Percy screams right alongside them, hands raised and jumping, Nico and Thalia close behind, every unintelligible lyric learned by heart. Even Annabeth can’t help but get swept up in it, her typical aloofness melting away into the crowd.

It really is a great show.

“That was amazing!” Annabeth is almost breathless at the end of it. Her throat feels raw, like sandpaper, her cheeks aching from smiling.

Percy hands her one of those little plastic cups of water, knocking his own back like a shot, wiping his mouth with his knuckles. “Aren’t they awesome?”

“I had no idea you were such a fan,” she says. “Your Spotify Wrapped must be a mess.”

“I like all music,” he replies, glib. “Even rap and country.”

“Oh, how well-rounded of you.”

“But Pluto’s Daughter is special,” he says. “You know the drummer is my cousin?”

“Very funny.”

“No, really,” says Percy. “Hazel is Nico’s half-sister.”

She blinks at him. “You have too many cousins.”

He just laughs, throwing his head back. “Tell that to our parents.”

Whatever else he might have said gets lost as a small bundle of leather and fishnet emerges from the crowd, launching herself at Percy. “You came!” cries the drummer for Pluto’s Daughter--Hazel. “Oh, I’m so happy you came!”

In stark, stark opposition to how he had been Kym, Percy swings his little cousin around in a big hug. He probably has close to a foot on her, even in her black platform boots, their broad smiles so uncharacteristic in such a dour crowd. Annabeth hadn’t been able to get a good look at her up on stage, but now she’s flush with adrenaline, her dark skin glistening with equal parts sweat and glitter, baby hairs escape from the artful crown of bantu knots, septum ring shining in the dim light of the bar.

“Of course I came,” says Percy, somehow still hugging her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Ms. Hazel Levesque!” Thalia crows, well and truly wasted. “There’s my gal!” And she rushes over to join them, almost bowling them both over.

A truly affectionate Thalia is rare, like a four-leaf clover or snow on Christmas. It does happen on occasion, if she’s gotten enough sleep or enough to drink, but the moment is usually fleeting, meant to be treasured, kept close to the heart. Annabeth can count the number of times Thalia has been sweet to her on one hand--never cruel, or mean, but just… brusque. Sarcastic. And yeah, sometimes mean, but never in a demeaning way. Just in a Thalia way. It’s one of the many, many things she loves about her.

The only downside to affectionate Thalia right now is that it leaves her alone with Nico.

She doesn’t not like Nico, she just doesn’t really know him. He’s swaying a little, not dangerously so, just vibing to the noise and the booze he’s already had.

“Hey,” he says, lurching over to her. “Got a question for you.”

“Okay?”

“I was. Working on those permits. For your show.” He waves a hand. “Whatever. You know that stage set up for that show in the West Village last winter?"

The first time she had met Nico, Annabeth and Thalia had been helping out one of her friends with their outdoor theater, and had needed a little legal assistance with getting the venue all squared away, as they were technically trespassing on some private property. It was nice to flex her creative muscles, though. She didn’t always get the chance these days.

She nods. “Yeah?”

"Your New York State architect license was on the paperwork."

Annabeth's blood runs cold.

Swallowing away her anxiety, she takes another sip of her water, hoping he’s too buzzed to notice. "What, was I supposed to try and impress Kym with my license?"

Nico snorts. "God, no.” Taking another sip of his drink, he goes to hug his sister, and Annabeth quietly berates herself for not taking care of that sooner.

Yes, her license is still on file with the state, because it’s so much more convenient to leave it like that, rather than let it lapse and reapply every time she has to do something bigger than a birdbath in a tiny community garden, and being registered still means she has access to the network and can apply for certain grants and it always looks good on her portfolio and she didn’t think the two worlds would ever collide, especially not in a place where Thalia, of all people, would ever find out--

“So,” says Percy, sidling back over to her. “Working on anything good?”

She blinks, the spiral of her thoughts coming to a screeching halt. “Huh?”

“Any cool projects on the docket?”

Projects. Right. “Sorta in between projects right now,” she says, tapping her fingers against the bar. “I finished up that community garden a couple months ago, now I’m just… waiting for the next thing coming along.”

He nods. “I feel that. The precarity’s a bitch, isn’t it.”

“Totally. Almost makes you want to work a 9 to 5 just for job security, right?”

“Absolutely not,” he says. “Wouldn’t give up ballet for the world. I could never work in an office; sitting for so long might actually kill me.”

It might--even now he can’t help but move, shifting around on heel to toe and back again. Everything about him is about movement. Even an office where everyone was on their feet, like hers had been, wouldn’t have been enough for Percy Jackson, she thinks.

“What about you?” he asks. “How would you fair in an office?”

“Been there, done that,” she says, before she can even think it through.

“Really?” She sees him scan her. Normally when he does that, he’s thinking of her without her clothes on, but now, she’s pretty sure he’s thinking of the ink that runs up and down her legs, and how that might all look forced into some sort of pencil skirt.

"Once upon a time,” she says.

“Was that before or after you decided to become an anarchist architect?”

Long after she decided to become an architect, but before anything about an anarchist crossed her mind, though her freshman Poli Sci professor, or maybe that sophomore philosophy TA, would probably argue that she isn’t actually an anarchist now. “Before,” she says. “I once tried to be very very different.” Tried and failed, oh so very spectacularly.

“How so?”

She looks at him for a moment. There are layers of mystery that need to be upheld. But she can’t spill her life’s story to Percy after only a few weeks of knowing him, no matter how easy and disarming he may be. She isn’t that girl anymore, and she doesn’t want people to know she ever was. Especially not these people: Thalia, Percy, Nico, even Hazel, who she hasn’t properly met. She can see, standing here, how very genuine and clear they are about themselves. They probably have actual skeletons in their closets, real, agonizing pasts, so much worse than her own.

She doesn’t want them to know she had an honest to god debutante ball. Murder would be vastly preferable. But still, Percy’s eyes are so bright, even in the dark light. His smile is so non-judgmental.

“I used to dream about adding to the skyline,” she says, eventually, “designing something so cool and so fresh that even after I died, everyone would look up and they would know my name.” For a second she thinks he might actually understand. And then she remembers Kym, and his utter distaste for his own sister, whose friend had only managed to get into Bartlett. “But I realized that kind of ego wasn't going to do me any good. And office work wasn’t going to take me anywhere I wanted to go.”

That bruise to her ego still stings, on occasion. That, and the loss of the only thing she’d ever wanted as much as something permanent. They were separate dreams, really, but two years ago, in that little Upper East Side café, they had seemed like one and the same. Failing so spectacularly in one had felt like she might as well throw in the towel about the other.

Percy in blue lipstick, eye liner, and a very tight shirt makes her think it might have been the right choice.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Assuming she never got another call. Though after that award she and Leo got earlier this year…

No, she reminds herself. She shouldn’t dream big anymore. She wasn’t going to get there, and she had to be ok with that.

He smiles, lopsided, sympathetic. “I know what you mean. Like, after so many amazing dancers, you have to be crazy to think that you can add something to the canon, something that’s never been done before. But here we are.”

“Here we are indeed.” She clinks her glass against his, and they drink.

He finishes with a long gasp, licking his lips.

“Wanna go be somewhere else?” she asks.

“Damn right I do,” he says, grabbing her hand, lacing her fingers together with his.

An hour or so and a few orgasms each later, they lie side by side on Percy’s bed, soft and sweaty.

“So your sister is kind of… intense,” Annabeth says.

Percy snorts so hard, Annabeth can feel it vibrating into her. “Yeah. That’s a word for it.”

“What was it like, growing up with her?”

“Oh, I didn’t grow up with her. I grew up here with my mom; she grew up in Athens with our father.”

“In Athens? Cool.” She’d done a study abroad in Rome, but she’d never made it out to Athens like she had wanted. Too much Pantheon, not enough Parthenon. “Have you ever been?”

He screws up his face, thinking cutely. “A few times. They’re not… great memories, exactly. In retrospect, it’s nice that my dad wanted me to feel included, but bringing his mistress’ kid on the annual family vacation to Santorini probably wasn’t his brightest idea.”

Annabeth’s eyes shoot up to her hairline. “Wow.”

“Kym was actually always pretty cool about it,” he continues, thoughtfully. “She likes to pretend she’s this ice queen alpha bitch type, but she’s got a secret soft spot. And my dad’s wife eventually came around--she even sends me a birthday card each year. My half-brother, though.” Percy blows out a breath. “He’s always been a douchebag.”

Dropping a kiss to his bare shoulder, she squeezes him. There’s a story there, but she knows better than anyone about not wanting to talk about bad family relationships. Percy likes Kym, though, and that makes her safe territory. “Tell me more about Kym. You said she was some kind of art collector or something?”

“No, she’s not a collector.” Percy bites his lip, considering. “It’s kind of hard to explain. I guess you could say that she’s, like… a professional socialite?”

Annabeth sits up, squinting down at Percy. “Are you trying to tell me that your sister is a courtesan?”

He sputters, completely taken by surprise, choking on his inhale. After thirty seconds, Annabeth is afraid she’s going to have to try CPR, before Percy starts to calm down. “No,” he wheezes, coughing. “No, she’s not a courtesan.”

“So, what does a ‘professional socialite’ even do?”

“You know, she… socializes.” Percy waves a hand in front of him. “She goes to parties, meets people, facilitates meetings--she socializes.”

Annabeth frowns. “What does that even mean?”

“I literally don’t know how else to explain it to you.”

“What, is she a spy?”

He opens his mouth to argue, then pauses. “Not… technically.”

“Not technically?”

“Think more corporate, less political.”

Okay, now she’s even more confused. “Huh?”

Percy sighs. “My dad runs this big shipping company that does business all over the Mediterranean. Pretty much the whole family works for him in some way: Triton is some kind of assistant executive, and Kym and my step-mom do, you know, outreach or fundraising or whatever.”

She’s silent for a moment, collecting the information presented to her. “Is this some kind of mob thing?”

He grimaces. “Maybe we should change the subject.”

“Is your dad a mob boss, Percy?” Objectively, she knows that the mob is a terrible organization responsible for many different types of atrocities, but honestly, the idea is kind of exciting, Annabeth hooking up with the secret lovechild of a mob boss. It’s romantic and sexy in a film noir kind of way.

“No, he just--does some light smuggling. I think.”

“How does one engage in ‘light’ smuggling?”

“Okay, so his business is totally legitimate, but he may also smuggle art on the side. Or oil. Or both. I don’t know and I’ve been told never to ask.”

And she thought her family was weird. She tells him as much. “That’s wild.”

“Honestly? That’s not even the wildest thing about my family.”

She flops back down on the bed, already exhausted. “Percy, I don’t know how many more revelations about your mob family I can take.”

“They’re not part of the mob!” He laughs. “But,” he smirks, looming over her with a familiar desire, “I can neither confirm nor deny that I had to swear a blood oath to the family when I turned eighteen.”

Rolling her eyes, she still easily submits to the heady feeling of his lips on hers, tilting her head back as he travels down her neck. “Okay, I did not sign up for any Don Corleone bullshit.”

“But you’d make such a great mob wife. Though we would have to kill the rest of my immediate family.”

Annabeth giggles, only partly at the ticklish feeling of his lips between her breasts. “I’d help you kill your douchey half-brother any day.”

He glances up at her from her belly button, long lashes fluttering. “That is legitimately one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Full disclosure, Thalia has already called dibs.”

“That’s fair.” Then she pushes his head down further. “Now get to work, Godfather.”

#IT'S ALIVE #my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #honesty and promise me #darkmagyk #we took a detour to 15th century europe but we're back babeyyy

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self-ships-ahoy · 3 years

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Demeter, Apollo, and Thalia with medic?

Greek Mythology Self Ship Asks

Thank you so much...T^T

Demeter: What’s your favorite season, and how do you like to spend that season together?

Oh I never thought about that before? Well, my favorite season is Fall, cuz A: the weather, B: the aesthetic/feel, and C: ....my birthday. XD Personally that’s when I find walks around town to be the most pleasant, the air cool and crisp, the colors of the leaves decorating the sky and the ground. Lots of nice seasonal foods come out that time of year too, and I love buying them to share with him. Oh, and the harvest festival, that’s a must. -u-

I think his favorite season might be either Winter or Fall. Winters really remind him of home, when it snows. He comes of as a guy who can really tolerate the cold too, so you can find him enjoying himself in the snow. Sometimes a fresh snowfall can really bring out the child in him, and he’s invited me to make realistic-looking snowmen with him a few times. I accepted once, and I helped him do a snow-autopsy to solve a snow-homicide. Got some police tape and everything. I....don’t know where we got it from. Actually, I hate the cold. Fortunately, he takes great pleasure in nurturing me so I stay comfy. He’s given me his lab coat many times (even if I’m already wearing one-- sometimes it’s not enough), and he’ll sometimes envelop me in it while he’s still wearing it (thanks @sketchyships XD). He makes a mean hot chocolate too!. But the best part is the cuddles.

Apollo: What do you like best about your f/o(s)? What does your f/o(s) like best about you?

What do I like best about Medic......I like his spirit. I like that unbridled passion he gets for science (though sometimes misplaced XD), the confidence he has in himself (though often too high XD).... Okay, honestly, I also like the checks and balances of his attributes and flaws, which mostly seem to come from the same traits. That’s very realistic, that a trait may be both a positive and negative, depending on how it’s expressed. I like his infectious laugh that cures sadness - no joke, it has healing properties. I like his subtle hints of kindness he shows to his team, like he actually calls them his friends!

And...I love, love how considerate and respectful he treats me. I love how he cherishes me. That passion he has for his trade? He has that for me. Do you know how that feels? To be treated like I’m this man’s world? To be listened to, and supported, and fully accepted in all my neurodivergent ways? To see him actually treat my requests and opinions like they matter, and even adjust his behavior to make me feel more comfortable? Coming from him, it’s like...like I’m a queen or something! I feel like his queen!

What he likes best about me? Well, going off that one imagine that I sourced, he likes my support and understanding. That I don’t treat him like he’s “nuts or crazy��. I embrace his eccentricities (within reason X3), and I’m sure he’s flattered by how enamored I seem to be with his whole being. Cuz guess what. He’s captivated by the entire concept of my existence. How could a woman so kind, so cute and quirky, so complimenting to his own personality, so filled with purity and beauty, possibly exist? How could he be so lucky as to find her by chance? And I’ll tell you this. After all the trials we’ve been through, from our jobs to our mental handicaps, and seeing how I haven’t abandoned him, he’s been convinced I’m The One for a very long time.

Also, my hugs and kisses are A+. -u-

Thalia: Discuss any fluff ideas you have for your ship. What kind of affectionate or sweet scenarios do you like best for this ship?

M’kay. He’s an acts of service man. I’m a words of affirmation woman. But I love when we get physically affectionate. Let me tell you this now, do not listen to stereotypes, this German man can be very affectionate and sweet. You’ve seen how openly expressive he can be! You know that’s gotta extend to things like cuddles and kisses. The way we laugh together when we get secretly cute away from the cameras. >w< I really didn’t think a relationship with him would be this cute at first, but it totally can be.

It’s been pretty much unanimously decided by the x reader blogs that he is a great dancer and that he will frequently pull me into a dance right in the lab. His responses to physical affection varies by blog, though, so I might just say it depends on his mood. Some days he just doesn’t want to be touched, but other days he can’t pull himself away from me. Cuddle days. -u- Sometimes, he’ll just be so caught up in how he’s feeling, I can hear him quietly giggling to himself. I won’t out him for it though, it’s nice to hear. X3 Also, he has caught me staring at him, so yeah we both have our things.

#this is good amazing stuff here i gotta archive it #learned a lot about my own ship here XD #so i'll reblog it tomorrow just so people see it #i love you by thunder #self ship #self ship meme #💗 Remote Surgery

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the-shadow-of-atlantis · 4 years

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Cinderella AU Part 9

Summary: Cinderella AU for annabella and Kaldur.

A/N I’m gonna try to see if I can finish this by the end of the week. Emma belongs to @lizartgurl

Tagging: @lizartgurl @thespacebuns @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @speedypan @gobydana

Read Earlier Parts Here

David was the first one to recover a face of fake worry crossed his face.

“Mister Al Ghul I am so terribly sorry. I was being rudely distracted by some ratty teens. I have reason to believe your step granddaughter has something to do with it.”

Annabella narrowed her eyes at David, that was a low blow. Yes it was common knowledge Ras did not think too highly of her but still. Ras however did not seem to think much of the comment David had made.

“It’s alright it can be washed out Mister…”

“Kane, David Kane owner of Durham Shipping.”

Ras raised an eyebrow. “Strange I do not recall seeing your name on the guest list. And yes I do check the guest list when I decide to come to these things, I like to know who my family is associating with. Now I would have remembered if I seen you on there I remember your predecessor he was a brilliant man and his company was one I could respect. It’s a shame what you have turned it into, so if my granddaughter was trying to get you out by whatever means then you honestly cannot blame her for a mistake you made in coming here."

"Did he just…" Annabella heard Emma mumbled beside her.

"Stand up for you?" Donna finished.

Annabella wasn’t really sure what to respond the interaction was making her head spin. David's face fell as what Ras had said finally fell into place.

“I suggest you leave now before drastic measures are taken. As for everyone else continue with the party. Annabella…”

Annabella blinked and looked at him standing a little straighter.

“Help me get this out.” Ras said gesturing to the coffee stain.

Before Annabella could protest he had grabbed her arm and lead her towards the kitchen. She was in a slight daze as she still tried to process what was going on before they slipped completely towards the kitchen she caught Thalia looking at her with alarm.

“I must say you impressed me tonight. You had a good turn out, the speech was perfectly timed.”

“Why are you here?” Annabella finally asked wringing out the rag she soaked.

“I came for support.”

“Yeah, try again.” Annabella said staring him down causing Ras to raise an eyebrow.

“Very well, I came to see your dedication to this. I see now that this cause is very dear to you and I am willing to help out. I am after all a humanitarian.”

Annabella let out a snort making Ras look at her puzzled.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. You may dress up your words to sound pretty but we both know what you really mean. So no I will not take your offer, you know why? Because I know you only want to fund this if it means I’m being kept away from my fathers business. I know you want to groom Damian to take over when he’s old enough. And maybe he will who knows but that’s for him to decide not you.” Annabella tossed the rag she was holding at Ras. “Now you may be old but we both know you are far from helpless.”

And with that Annabella walked out of the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” Emma said immediately walking up to her.

“Yeah Ras is just being an ass.”

“Language.” Emma scolded making Annabellla stick out her tongue.

“I just hope Kaldur was able to get back okay.” Annabella whispered as she glanced at the giant clock that was in the ballroom.

~~~~

Kaldur panted as he slammed the back door behind him he looked down and noticed his uniform was back on.

“Here put this on.” Lagann said tossing Kaldur a dirty apron.

Kaldur quickly caught it and tied it around his waist. Lagann took him to the kitchen where Garth was cleaning the dishes. Kaldur immediately stood next to him and began helping him out.

"Unbelievable!" Kaldur heard David suddenly shout from the entrance. "Where is Kaldur?!"

Kaldur walked out drying off his hands trying to seem confused as to what was going on.

"Yes?"

"I need you to take these stains out of my clothes as soon as possible." David grumbled as he took off his coat jacket.

"What happened?" Kaldur asked now definitely feeling confused.

"Ugh those damn Wayne kids is what happened. If I thought taking on you was a heavy burden I have no idea how Bruce Wayne has managed to keep track of that awful horde of children."

“Tim isn’t that bad.” Micheal mumbled making David turn to face his son slowly.

“Go what in the car.” David said through gritted teeth making Michael bow his head and slowly walk out.

David sighed and turned to face Kaldur. “Close the diner. Get home. And get to work on that stain.”

When David left the diner Kaldurs friends began bursting into laughter.

“Oh my god I thought that twitter thread was joking.” Garth said.

“What twitter thread?” Kaldur asked.

“Oh someone had been posting about the things happening at the gala.” Gathering shrugged.

“We think its one or all of the Wayne kids that manage it.” Tula continued.

“Any ways they tweeted about David crashing into a coffee table along with Ras Al Ghul.” Lagann finished.

“Ras Al Ghul?” Kaldur asked a faint memory of an old gossip show talking about how Ras seemed to be a bit cold towards Annabella came to mind. “Did anyone get in trouble.”

“I know your step dad got called out but other than that i haven’t seen anything recent.” Garth shrugged.

Kladur nodded and wondered if maybe he should try to start getting in contact with Annabella and make sure she was okay.

“I better start locking up.” Kaldur decided, he was definitely going to have a long day tomorrow he doubted David would get over this humiliation overnight.

“Be careful Kaldur.” Tula said as Kaldur locked the door.

Kaldur nodded as he hugged her goodnight and made his way home.

He sighed as he laid down in bed his head trying to process the night. Had he really gone to the gala? Or did he somehow slip and hit his head when he went to take out the trash? But then he remembered the kiss, his one second of courage, yeah there's no way that kiss was fake. Kaldur smiled up at the ceiling as he remembered how quick Annabella was to help him get out.

Kaldur let out another sigh as he closed his eyes. If he really wanted to be with her he was going to have to do something about it. He smiled as his head started to imagine a world where he was free, maybe that wouldn't be so far fetched.

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#oc x kaldur #kaldur imagine #cinderella au

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dyde21 · 5 years

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Marching On 2: The Auditions

I’m happy with how well received this story has been! The engagement definitely makes me want to keep pumping out chapters for this AU, even if they take a while. These chapters are pretty long. Fair warning, this one is kinda heavy on drum line, but I also used it to explain some stuff for later on. I hope it’s all understandable! More after the story!

ALSO ON AO3 HERE

XxXxXxXxX

Pausing outside the door, Percy was starting to feel a little nervous. Today was the day of tryouts and he was going in with barely any practice in snare drumming. A week ago he couldn’t have cared less about it, but now he was actually feeling nervous.

He was pretty sure that it wasn’t because he was invested in band. His opinion of it had moved from lame to “pretty okay”. The first week had been fine overall. They went over the basics of how the year long class worked, how much money they needed to provide and what fundraisers were available throughout the year to help out. They had even had their first lesson on music theory, which confused him quite a bit but Piper was helping him out so he could at least read music now. Plus he found it a little easier to study than the normal junk he had to for school. Music was rewarding when you learned it at least, you could make a cool sound or melody.

No, he was mostly nervous that he was going to make a fool of himself. He had seen the options for drumline, and he was pretty sure the snare was the coolest to him. But also usually the most popular according to Piper so that meant he was going to have to pull off something.

“Nervous?”

Piper said suddenly, making him jump. He hadn’t noticed her approaching. She just laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. If you have two talents, it’s getting in to trouble, and pulling through sketchy situations by some miracle.” She teased. Percy glared slightly, but couldn’t exactly argue with her. It was pretty accurate.

Removing her arm, she just shifted and leaned against the wall next to him. “I’m honestly surprised you’re willingly here. I figured you would have ran away after class ended. You staying after school for band? Who would have thought.” She said, a hint of teasing in her tone, but she looked sideways at him showing a genuine interest.

Percy shrugged. “I told you guys, I’m going to try it out at least. Besides, my mom has been really happy that I’ve been going and I kinda owe her for not signing me up for military school or something. It’s nice seeing her smile.” He confessed, looking off to the side away from his friend, already knowing her reaction.

Piper just let out a soft coo at him. “There’s hope for you yet.” She teased, pulling off his beanie to mess with his hair, before pulling it over her own head and heading into the band room.

Percy followed her, trying to fix his horrible case of beanie-hair from wearing it all day.

“What are you doing here anyway, are you trying out for drumline?”

Piper laughed at him. “Please. I’m actually trying out for color guard this year. Tryouts are today as well.”

She turned to see his dumbfounded expression and rolled her eyes. “Flags.”

“Oh!” Percy announced, finally understanding. “Why is called color guard? Are you like supposed to protect the band with those poles?” He asked, earning a sign from Piper who just ignored his stupid question.

All the chairs that normally filled the band room had been stacked neatly along the walls, freeing up most of the room. There were large drums on harnesses lined up in a semi-circle and a smattering of students gathered around. Annabeth caught their eye and made her way over. “You showed up, I’m impressed. Piper said you might bail.”

Percy shot a glare at his friend who just stuck her tongue out. “You have to admit there was like a fifty percent chance.”

“Maybe.”

Annabeth let out a laugh and smiled at him. “Well you’re here, and that’s all that matters. Based off your playing, I’m sure you can get a spot.”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope so.”

The blonde turned to Piper. “So you’re trying for color guard this year?”

Setting her bag next to where Percy had stowed his, Piper turned around. “Yeah, I think I am. Marching is fun, but seeing Hazel and Silena having so much fun last year made me want to try it out.”

Annabeth grinned. “That’s awesome. I know you’ll do amazingly. Just listen to Hylla and I’m sure you won’t have much issue getting on the line.”

Piper nodded. “Hylla is teaching it again? Awesome. She seemed cool.” Looking over at Percy who was clearly out of place in the conversation but didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. “Sorry. Reyna’s older sister. She graduated a while ago. She runs colorguard here now. Strict, but a beautiful dancer and she’s the reason our colorguard always gets great scores.

Percy nodded. “I see. Stricter than Reyna?” He said, pausing at the thought. Reyna already put on a tough act, he couldn’t imagine what her older sister would be like if she was even more serious. He had a feeling she wouldn’t like him much.

Both girls laughed at his expression, so he clearly wasn’t hiding it well.

“Don’t worry. Drumline has its own instructor. Honestly you’ll probably get along with her well. Or hate her. Either or.” Annabeth offered with a shrug while Percy didn’t exactly feel much more reassured.

“What’s he like?” Percy asked, suddenly worried he was going to have to deal with a hardass for drumline. Which probably wouldn’t end well, and end up with him quitting if he was honest with himself. He really did have a problem with authority.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “She’s… probably not what you’re imagining.”

Just then the doors on the other side of the band room flew open and a woman with a short pixie cut walked in, a bag and drumsticks in one hand while the other was filled with a starbucks cup. Her foot was raised from where she pulled open the door with her foot.

“‘Sup Nerds.”

She said, smirking from behind her sunglasses.

Every preconceived notion had just shattered to pieces, meanwhile Annabeth just ran over and over and once the woman set down her bag and sticks, she pulled Annabeth into a tight hug.

“Thalia!” Annabeth said, grinning ear to ear.

Piper dragged Percy by the hand over to her.

“Hey Thalia.”

Piper said, giving her a quick hug too. Thalia just grinned at her and return the hug. “Long time no see.”

Meanwhile Percy was staring at her. “Thalia? Grace?”

“‘Sup?” She said, shifting her eyes towards him.

Annabeth was still all giddy while she motioned to Percy. “This is Percy. New this year, trying out for drumline.” She explained, but this was still the happiest Percy had seen Annabeth. Ever Piper seemed thrilled to see her.

Thalia removed her sunglasses, hanging them on the front of her shirt. “Wait. Jackson?” A grin crept across her face as messed his hair up. “Hey cuz, it’s been years.”

Both of the other girls stared between them surprised.

“You know each other?”

Percy just smiled and shared a brief hug with her. “Kinda. When I was really little I used to go to some family reunions on my dad’s side. Our dads are brothers but I haven’t seen her in years.”

Thalia nodded. “You were like 5 the last time I saw you. You got big.”

Percy shifted his gaze towards Annabeth. “How do you know her? You seem like you two have a history.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thalia was a senior when I was a freshman. She was center snare here, then went off and was center snare at Olympus University for four years. She’s the reason I joined band in the first place. I owe her a lot.”

The older woman just grinned and threw her arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. “I missed you a lot too. We don’t see each other nearly enough anymore. College was busy. But when Hedge quit, Chiron called me. Asked if I would be willing to coach you guys. Figured my music degree could be useful for something after all.” She said with a laugh.

“Ms. Grace! It’s good to see you again.” Chiron’s voice cut in. “Do you have a minute?”

Thalia nodded, rubbing Annabeth’s shoulder once before she walked past them to go talk to Chiron.

Jason wandered over not to long after looking after Thalia.

“It’s gonna be weird having my sister coach me.” He offered, but his grin showed he didn’t mind much.

“We’re cousins?” Percy asked Jason, surprised.

“We are?” Jason countered.

“You are.” Annabeth offered.

Percy frowned, rubbing his neck. “I don’t remember seeing you at the reunions.”

The blonde thought for a moment. “Probably because I was with my mom. My parent’s divorced shortly after I was born. Dad got Thalia, Mom got me.” He offered, a hint of sadness in his tone that Percy felt bad inducing. “Still, we’re family now I guess. Can I borrow money?” He teased, earning a laugh from Jason.

“Maybe if I had any.” He countered.

Another tall woman entered the room, a bag over her shoulder with various long objects sticking out of it.

“Hylla!” Piper said, moving over to talk to her.

The woman offered her a patient smile, staring to chat with her. Percy realized that must be the color guard instructor.

Jason nudged Percy’s arm. “Come on, I’ll show you the snares a little before we start. Just so you can see what they’re like. It’s not like a set.”

As they moved towards the drums, they saw that guy from the other day, Tyler enter the room too. Ashe was already at his side and they both had cups of coffee. Percy had a sneaking suspicion that Ashe had dragged him in here today a lot like Piper did.

Jason was standing next to the line of five snare drums. They were much longer than normal snare drums, and had metal harnesses attached to them. “Here.” He offered, lifting one up. Stepping forward, Percy ducked his head slightly as the harness slipped over it, resting on his shoulders. He shifted, trying to get used to the sudden increase of weight in front of him, and the metal harness that wasn’t quite cushioned enough to be comfortable. Apparently he looked as uncomfortable as he felt because Jason let out a slight laugh before he effortless slipped one on himself. “You’ll get used to it. It’s really awkward at first, especially once we start marching. The weight hanging out front isn’t really comfortable ever though.”

Percy nodded, fidgeting with the harness again. He could already tell his shoulders would be sore after a while in this.

“Here.” Jason said, grabbing a sweater and draping it over the top of the snare, pulling it pretty flat. He hit the top of snare and it was a much more muffled sound.

“I’m pretty sure Thalia would kill us if we started playing normally before it was time. It’s loud.” To prove a point, he hit a single accented note on his snare and the entire room turned to look at him. Even Percy flinched slightly at the sudden noise that he knew was coming.

Thalia shot him a glare and he raised his hands.

“Just proving a point. Promise.”

She did the two fingers “I’m watching you” gesture, though she was smiling as she turned back to Chiron.

Jason just laughed and moved a sweater over his own drum, before tapping it and show how much more muted it was.

“You can see why we usually practice outdoors.”

Percy nodded, noticing the bag hanging from the side of the snare.

“Sticks.” Jason answered following his gaze. “We tend to include stick tricks into the show, and flips don’t always go right. Sometimes you drop a stick and the last thing you want to do is be stuck without one and having to play with one stick. They will give you points for playing it off well, but it’s still not the best option so always have some spares on you.”

“Makes sense.” Was Percy’s reply.

“First things first. Snare drum sticks.” He held out a set to Percy.

Percy’s eyes widened slightly. “The hell?” Earning a laugh from Jason, and Piper who had made her way over.

The drumstick was about twice the size of a normal drumstick and way heavier.

“These are what we use for marching snares. It definitely takes a while to get used to, but use need the weight to get the sound right.” Jason explained mechanically, and Percy had a feeling he had said it a few times before.

Tentatively Percy played a few muted notes, everything about it feeling wrong. It strained his wrists in a way he wasn’t used to and the snare was super bouncy, even through the sweater.

“One last thing, do you know how to hold sticks traditional?” He asked, flipping his left stick around and holding it underhanded.

Percy stared at the stick, then at him. “Like… jazz right?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, Jazz players tend to use it too. But that’s how snare drummers drum in drumline.

Awkwardly, Percy flipped the stick around and tried hitting the snare a few times. Jason had a tightlipped smile, as he was clearly trying not to laugh at Percy.

“This is stupid.” Percy mumbled, unable to get his left hand to behave as well as he needed it to.

Jason laughed. “You get used to it.” He said, patting him on the shoulder. He looked off to the side, and saw another student standing around a snare, looking awkward. Jason nodded at him before moving off to help the other guy. Percy continued to flail a bit, feeling his left elbow bouncing up and down as he tried to drum right. “Shit.” He muttered again, as the stick slipped out of his hands and clattered.

He tried to bend down to get it, but the harness was awkward and restricting his movement.

“Here, I got it.” Piper said, handing him back his stick. “How’s it feel?”

Percy shifted slightly. “Heavy. And awkward. Drumming like this is so unnatural.” He complained.

Piper laughed. “It does look pretty bad. But when you see good snare drummers do it? In sync? It’s actually super badass.” She offered. Piper rolled her eyes when she saw his doubtful look. “You’ll see in a bit, I’m sure. Trust me.”

Nodding, Percy went back to trying to find a motion that seemed even relatively natural to him.

“All right boy scouts, let’s do this.” Thalia’s voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs and muted drumming. Everyone looked over, seeing Thalia standing with a hand on her hip grinning at the group of hopefuls.

“Color guard with me. We’re going to hold our auditions in the gym. Let’s move.” Hylla called out, giving a nod to Thalia before they ushered the group of girls out of the room. Piper had given Percy a pat on the back on her way out, wishing him luck.

“So who here is new to drumline? I heard from Chiron we have a bunch of new people and a tight schedule.”

Percy raised his hand, and glanced around. Maybe a third of the people were also raising their hands. Tyler was standing next to a weird set of four drums next to two other guys Percy didn’t recognize.

“That’s a lot of you. But that means I have a bunch of raw talent to beat into shape.” Thalia offered. “We’re going to break up auditions into each set. Feel free to try out for different drums if you want. I may call on people if we need more filled.”

She paused, looking around. “Let’s just get the snares over with.”

Everyone looked nervous who was new and Percy felt his pulse race a bit. It seemed Thalia didn’t like wasting time.

“So snare drums are the flashiest of the group. They have the most stick tricks, they drum in unison often, and if we actually get good there’s a lot of fun you can do with drumming on other people’s drums as well. But for now you just need to worry about hitting it in time. Percy, come here.” She ordered, surprising him.

He walked over, anxiety starting to spike. Thalia ripped off the hoodie that was still draped over it and tossed it across the room. “These are loud. Get used to it.” She held out her hand for his sticks and he offered them to her, before holding onto the harness awkwardly.

With a sharp hit, she did a loud note hitting the drum. Percy flinched again, much to his annoyance.

“It’s much worse indoors, but if you’re marching with it you need to get used to not hearing much aside from the drums while you’re playing.”

She grabbed Percy’s drum, shifting him so he was parallel to the group and stood in front of him, taking up a proper stance on the other side of his drum. “Stay still.” She ordered him, smirking.

“Playing isn’t just about hitting the right note at the right time. I’ll go over the details later, but it’s all about putting on a show. When the attention is supposed to be on you, make sure they never look away.”

Percy glanced over at the students watching with intensity. Annabeth was in the back of the room, giving him a patient encouraging smile.

Another sharp hit had Percy’s head snap back to Thalia who was grinning.

“Now watch.” Another sharp hit, before she hit her stick three times, and she started counting down.

“Jason, pay attention. I need you up here next.” She said, right before she started playing. Percy’s jaw dropped at it as he watched it close up. Her playing was mesmerizing. Switching seemlessly between fast and slow notes, some notes were sharp while others buzzed a little on the drum. Then she started adding in stick tricks, spinning them and tossing them effortlessly as she played. The entire time her sharp blue eyes were staring directly at him, a very intentional smirk never faltering.

She finished with one last little flair of notes, before she thrust her hands down at her sides. Percy noted she was breathing slightly heavier but her eyes were still piercing into him. Intimidated hardly covered how he felt.

“Holy shit.” He muttered.

The room broke into applause as he looked over to Annabeth was just beaming at him with a smug look. He could hear her thoughts practically.

Told you it was cool.

“Jason, come on. Let’s show them what it’s like when it’s synced up.”

Jason walked over with his drum, pulling out a set of sticks. “You’re kidding me right? That was like an entire solo. People can’t memorize that instantly.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “Some center snare you are.” She teased. “You still remember last year’s show right? Start of the closer. I think I remember it enough from helping you. Here, Percy give me that snare real quick.”

He quickly pulled it over his head, handing it to her. “Why didn’t you ask for it first.”

Thalia laughed and winked at him. “Cause I heard you don’t know how cool drumline is yet, and stubborn asses like you need to be shown first hand.”

Percy was just quiet and as he went back to the group. As much as her cocky attitude pissed him off, she was completely right. Her show had completely enthralled him. He couldn’t even fairly call that lame if he wanted to.

Thalia put on her drum and Jason came back with a sheet of music. “I still have it, thankfully.” He grabbed a music stand and put it on it, tapping out a few notes.

Thalia leaned in, muttering to herself as she watched it and tapped out some parts as well.

“Okay, we’ll go to the quad fill here. You got it?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, I messed around with it to stay practiced over the summer. You good?”

Thalia scoffed at him. “You do know I played center snare for 4 years in college right? That stuff is harder than what you do here. I’ll be fine.” She said. “Here.”

She counted off, and soon they were playing in harmony.

Percy had to admit he was impressed. He had never seen two people move in sync so well before. Their sticks were flying up and down, clacking on the rim of the drum, before buzzing perfectly in sync. It was still hard to wrap his head around the precision.

Eventually they stopped and another small round of applause happened.

“You were dragging.” Thalia said to Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes. “You were rushing. You hit the paradiddles and sped through them. I had to speed up to catch up.”

Thalia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk back to your teacher. I have way more experience than you, kid.” She said, making him squirm for a moment. “Besides, those are separate things. Me rushing the paradiddles had nothing to do with you dragging the low buzzes. Don’t blame your screw ups on mine.” She said, sticking out her tongue and smirking at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Thalia laughed before turning back to the group. “My idiot brother aside, we have five snare drums so let’s have… Percy, Leo, Jason can stay, Clarrise and Bianca.” They all made their way up and Thalia handed Percy back the snare. It took a minute for some harnesses to be adjusted. From what Percy could tell, Jason and Clarisse both played snares last year so they were probably guaranteed a spot on the line. The rest of them were up for the same spots, along with a few others sitting down.

Once they were lined up, Thalia moved to the front of them holding out her sticks in the awkward traditional grip.

“Okay everyone, hold your sticks like this.” She said, looking at each of their hands before she moved over to Percy first. “Here, shift the stick up and keep your middle finger loose and bounce it here…” She moved his fingers around a bit, until they were in something that looked more like what she did but felt even more uncomfortable.

All the new people had their grips corrected as Thalia stepped back.

“Okay, we’re going to start simple. Jason will count off a tempo, then were going to do 8 4 2 1, then back up. So Eight hits with the right hand, then left, then 4 right, then left hand etc. We’ll do one of each hand twice then go back up. It’s really important to pay attention to your sticking patterns. It makes a very big difference for both practical and showy reasons.” She turned to her brother. “Okay, Jason. Take it slow to start. Like 80 bpm at eighth notes. Here, watch.”

She said, grabbing Jason’s sticks and doing the pattern on her drum after counting it off.

They all watched closely, except for clarisse who seemed exceedingly bored. Then again, if she had already marched snare he doubted this was even noteworthy.

“The most important thing is don’t stop if you screw up. I don’t care if you have to stop, take a deep breath, and join back in. Do that, it’s fine. Collect yourself then get back right back on track. This is a test of how well you handle pressure as much as it is how well you can keep a rhythm. “I can fix bad playing, I can’t fix a weak will.” She said.

“Enough rambling now though. Jason, count it.”

Jason stood up straight, before counting off a leisurely pace. Percy took a deep breath and prepared.

It was slow enough, especially after his drumming experience so the first eight hits weren’t bad. They switched the left hand and what was a relatively uniform sound ended up being a disaster. Ever Thalia winced at the sound, but a smile was creeping on her face. “Keep going!” She called out over the drums. “4 now!” The sound was anything but smooth, but Percy pushed on. His left hand was starting to hurt a bit and he couldn’t get a comfortable grip but the pattern wasn’t screwing him up. At least until they got the single notes. He forgot they were supposed to repeat the single notes and fumbled. Pausing, he felt things starting to crash and burn.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Annabeth’s. She made a dramatic motion with her hands of breathing in and out. Percy paused a beat or two, glancing at Jason’s sticks to see him switch. Hopping back in, he hadn’t missed too many notes and Thalia was looking at him with an approving grin.

Eventually they ended and Thalia was laughing.

The new people shared some nervous looks, and Thalia raised her hand in apology as he tried to regain her composure. “You guys did fine. But watching you all try to drum with your left hand, your elbows were waving everywhere like chickens. I never get tired of seeing that.”

She said, wiping a tear from her eye.

Clarisse was snickering too while Jason rolled with his eyes with a slight smile.

“Everyone I teach has to do that their first time. It’s initiation. For now though, everyone can go back to the regular grip. If you march snare you WILL have to learn traditional grip. But I’m more worried about rhythm and pattern right now. “We’ll try it again, and you can stick normally. Except Jason and Clarisse. Don’t get lazy. Accent the switches properly and softer on the off beats.” She said, with a pointed look at the two veterans.

Jason counted it off again, and the sound was much better this time. Even Thalia seemed impressed.

Percy had been hyper aware of the single note switches so he managed to avoid screwing them up, and being able to stick how he was used to took a lot of the pressure off as well.

“Good.” Thalia said when they finished. “Looks like you all have rhythm at least.”

For the next little while, Thalia ran them through another few basic exercises. On one of them, she even had them stand on one foot then switch to test their balance for marching, which Percy was not graceful at in the least. Then she had them sit down and let a few other students come up to try out the snare.

Once everyone who wanted to try the snare went she smiled. “Good job. Now the quads. Frank, if you will?”

A large man walked over wearing that weird set of drums Percy noticed before. It had four large drums in a half circle with two tiny drums on the inside near the harness.

“These are quads. The most melodic of the drums in a sense. The most like a set, but they’re heavy and kind of awkward. A little less flashy, but they have their own kind of presence on the field. Frank, do you remember any of the show last year?”

Frank nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

A wry smile crept across Thalia’s face. “Ma’am? You’re polite. I like that. You got the spot. Sit down.” She said, before laughing. “I’m kidding. Just play what you remember for a bit.”

Frank nodded and counted off a tempo. Percy had to admit, quads were impressive. His hands moved around a lot more than they did with snare. While snare looked super technical, this was different. He was balancing moving to different drums with a smooth tempo. It looked intimidating in its own way.” He finished and looked to Thalia who seemed impressed. “Damn, nice job. You probably won’t have any issue in college if you continue playing. That was solid drumming.”

“Now who wants to give it a try?”

The room looked at each other, everyone nervous after that performance.

Percy considered raising his hand for it, it reminded him of set a bit.

“You, come up.” Thalia said pointing somewhere behind Percy.

Looking around, he saw Tyler had his hand up. He seemed a little pale, but he had his hand raised.

Thalia grinned at him. “Don’t worry. Quads are a beast in their own right. Messing up is fine, like I said. Just don’t give up.”

Thalia helped him get settled in the harness, adjusting it to a good height before he stood a little awkwardly next to Frank. Frank gave him a friendly smile, showing him a good place to hold out his arms.

“We’ll start with the same exercise. Except every time you change numbers, move to the next drum. Frank, show him.”

Frank nodded before playing the same one Percy had started with, but each time he reduced the number of hits he jumped to the next on in the circle before going back up.

Tyler was watching Frank with a deadly focus, his own hands mirroring Frank’s as Frank played. Percy could see Thalia staring at Tyler’s hands too.

“Ready?” She said as Frank counted it off.

Tyler started off pretty smooth, but when he was switching to the double hits, his stick hit in between the drums and you could see the panic set in. He tried to get back on track, but didn’t manage to until they were almost back on the eights.

The room clapped for him, but Percy was close enough to see how tight Tyler was gripping his sticks out of frustration. “Okay, not bad. Next let-”

“Can we try again?” Tyler blurted out, before his eyes widened. “Sorry.”

Thalia just looked at him for a moment, a grin creeping on her face. “Of course. I like that. One more time, Frank.”

Frank was also grinning. “Yeah.” He counted it off and Percy saw Tyler silently counting with him. He was focusing sharply again and this time he made it through without much issue. Thalia was smirking as they finished. “Much better. Nice focus, kid. Next is..”

Thalia ran him through some more exercises before letting a few other people try. Percy had even hopped up there, but he found he didn’t like quads nearly as much as he thought he might. The drums were low, and the weight was super annoying as it kept pulling him forward. The multiple drums were fun, but it didn’t really have the same vibe as doing a fill on a set.

Eventually everyone who wanted a chance went and she moved over to the last line of drums.

“These are the bass drums. We have five, some lines have more, some less. This drum is both the most simple, and the hardest. Each drum makes up a part of a group.” She hit the smallest drum, which had a relatively light tom-sounding hit. Then she moved towards the biggest one which had a loud resounding dull hit to it, hitting each one in between.

“Bass drums have cool fills, but their parts are split between each drum. So excellent rhythm is a must and dedication. You can do cool drum fills on basses, and when a full bass line is in sync, it’s wicked. Seeing five people play the same part split between them is incredible, if not a little under appreciated. But if you screw up it sounds muddy.” She explained.

“Beckendorf, you were fifth right?”

A large man stood up and made his way over to the biggest bass drum. Percy was genuinely impressed as the man hoisted it over his shoulders and put on the harness. There was no way he could see around it, the top of it went a good foot past his head.

“For this one, we’ll get some people to try it out because it’s a team effort.”

She gathered some students, including a set of twins who all tried it out. Their exercises were similar, switching between hitting the large sides of the drums, then having them try and go up and down the line one at a time on rhythm. Percy didn’t try out for that one, because he didn’t feel confident enough about his teamwork to try and tackle that challenge. A flashy snare fit him much better.

A little while later they all wrapped up and everyone was looking nervous.

“Great job everyone, honestly. I know how scary auditions can be, and the fact you got up here and flailed around is half the battle. The school has a limited number of spots, and I’m going to chat with Chiron a little more before announcing tomorrow. If you don’t get a post, there are plenty of positions open in pit that will need to be filled, and I’m talking to Chiron to see if we can get a Cymbal line going as well. For now though, thank you all for coming and I look forward to working with those of you who make it.” She finished, offering a salute.

Everyone stood up and started murmuring. Around the middle of the bass drum auditions color guard had made their way back in to watch them and Piper made her way to Percy after it was over.

“How’d it go?” She asked, studying his face for any signs.

Percy shrugged. “I think pretty well. The fact I’ve drummed before definitely helped. Marching seems like it’s going to suck though, those things are heavy and moving around a lot doesn’t sound fun.”

Piper nodded. “It definitely takes some getting used to, but I can help you practice with that. Think you’ll get a spot?”

Percy pulled his beanie back on. “I dunno. That’s up to Thalia. I’m sure Jason will though.” He said, earning a punch in the arm from Piper.

Annabeth made her way over to Percy. “Good job today. You recovered nicely.” She offered

Percy blushed slightly. “Uh… yeah. I meant to say thank you. You helped for sure.”

Meanwhile Piper was looking between the two of them with a growing grin.

Annabeth smiled down at the floor before pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well I hope you make it. I wanna talk to Thalia before she leaves so I’m gonna go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Percy nodded as Annabeth patted Piper on the shoulder and made her way over to Thalia.

Piper gave him the biggest grin.

“She helped you, eh?”

“Shut up McLean. She just reminded me to breathe.”

“Weird, I thought she took your breath away.” She countered, laughing at Percy’s groan as she started walking out of the room.

“How’d your auditions go?”

Piper grinned. “I nailed them. It helped I had practiced with Silena over the summer. I think I made it.”

Percy pulled her into a side hug. “That’s awesome! I’m proud of you.”

“When we both make it, we’ll go get pizza to celebrate. My treat. Deal?”

Grinning, Percy nodded. “I don’t think I’ll ever say no to that.”

As they piled into the car, Percy sighed looking out at the darkening sky.

“That was… honestly a lot of fun. More fun than I’ve had in awhile. Thank you Piper, for real. I really hope I can make it.”

Piper just gave him the warmest smile. “I’m proud of you. I know you’ll make it. Otherwise, I can take out whoever else made it and get you a spot.”

Percy laughed as they drove away. It felt like things were finally starting to click in place a little more.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for sticking through the chapter! I know it was a long one and kinda dense. I hope it was enjoyable though. And if it wasn’t obvious, I freaking love Thalia. She’s so badass. I hope you enjoyed her too! Thank you for all the engagement with this story, it really does motivate me, even if my time is starting to get limited due to being broke. xD Hopefully I wont have too long of a delay before the next chapter! Just need to plan a little more for it out.

If you want to help me write and paint more please consider checking out either my art commissions HERE or even just buying me a coffee on my Ko-Fi HERE

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the-idea-master · 7 years

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Dark! Thalia

So I see a lot of posts talking about the potential of Dark! Percy or Leo etc. Yet I've never really seen one on Dark! Thalia. To me she's probably one of the most likely to have reasons to go dark or turn against the gods. Let's assess her history here. *We know that growing up wasn't easy for her. Her mom was an alcoholic and a popular tv star. *Some things we can assume do to the previous information. Alcoholism often has severe mood swings as a side effect so Thalia has probably seen some pretty scary and ugly sides to her mother that the public doesn't see. For a little kid it must be pretty terrifying. *If her mom was a celebrity there had to be some pressure that went along with that. To be a good kid so her mom's image wasn't damaged. *Going back to Alcoholism it's gotta be tough as a child to slowly comprehend and realize that your mother is drinking herself to death and slowly wasting away. *Part of Thalia must have understood and come to two conclusions about this. One: Her mom wasn't necessarily able to handle the pressures of the media and despite the crap Thalia went through because of her mom she still loved her and would most likely developed a certain bitterness towards the media and most and prying people. Two: She would also realize that it would be easier on her mom if her Dad was there. She'd grow bitter towards him because to her, if he stuck around maybe none of this would have happened. *Later her father actually comes back which must seem like a miracle to her. Imagine the hope that would bubble up in her little chest. Things were going to be fixed and she and her mom could be happy. *Now imagine her finding out that he wasn't going to stick around and then finding out her mom is pregnant. Not only that but coming to the conclusion that her father, who for a split second was her hero, had now only made things worse. *Imagine Thalia being so grown up at such a young age. Imagine her trying to keep her mother from drinking because she's pregnant. Or trying to help with things like making dinner and cleaning the house. *Then Jason is born. And she's sitting there holding this small innocent child. A kid whose done nothing wrong and she reflects on all of the crap she's dealt with and decides that won't happen to him, it can't. *Thalia doing everything in her power to give him a better childhood than she had. He becomes her world. Thalia is his world and for a bit he's the source of her only happiness. Thalia would end up losing her own childhood to raise him. *Now picture this. Picture Thalia scouring around for Jason complete panic kicking in because "how could I lose him?" "This is my fault!" Only to realize that her mother is oddly calm about this. Being told that Jason was gone for good and suddenly her world just collapses. *There's no reason for her to stay anymore. Because honestly she's contemplated running away before. But she stays a bit longer because she'll feel guilty. Because her mom needs her. But she eventually can't take it anymore so she runs away. *She then meets Luke. A boy who understands everything she's going through. And for once she can be herself and do as she pleases without having to worry about anyone. She gets a bit of that childlike freedom back. *She finds Annabeth and every instinct n her being is screaming to protect her. Because Annabeth looks like Jason, she's as small and innocent as he is, and damn it "I failed Jason but I'm not failing her." *Thalia finally has a family she wants. A family she loves. Only it doesn't last. *That night on the hill she's not letting anyone touch the people she cares about because she failed once with her brother and it will not happen again. Not ever. *Imagine the fear and sadness because she knows there's no way out of this. But there's cult there too because this is her fault isn't it? She's the daughter of the king of the gods. The monsters are after her. Not them. *She dies. When she wakes its an entirely different world. *The little girl she protected for so long is now nearly her age. She missed Annabeth's childhood. She missed getting to see Annabeth grow up but now Annabeth has Percy. Annabeth doesn't need Thalia anymore and it's heartbreaking. *What's worse is then she discovers the boy who helped take care of her is evil. It doesn't make sense at first but then comes the guilt. If she'd been alive maybe this wouldn't have happened. *Not only that but her first mission and Luke tries to hurt Annabeth. But a part of her doesn't believe it. Not until she sees it. *What we have to understand is that right now at this point she's also understanding that the prophecy is about her. Not Percy. Not anymore at the moment. *The bitterness at the world inside of her had to have been so much. So strong. Later she would find out the only reason Luke wanted her to live was so he could be a part of his evil plan. *Fast forward to the moment she has to fight him on mount Tam. The real moment she realized Luke isn't the same person anymore. The pain of coming to terms with that would hurt so much. Yet she'd also realize that to an extent he's right, the gods caused it all, but she can't side with him because it isn't right. *She then becomes the lieutenant of Artemis and has to prepare for a war. *When the final battle comes around the people she cares about most are constantly on the verge of dying. What's more is that throughout this entire series Zeus does not show his appreciation for the sacrifices she's made. And when he does it's an after thought. In the titans curse one of her biggest struggles as a character is the idea of whether or not her father even cares about her. *Later she, Percy, Grover, and Annabeth are racing to the throne room. A statue of Hera falls and it's supposed to be for Annabeth but without hesitation she once again saved Annabeth. Saved the girl she promised to protect and in the process gets injured. *Everything is like an endless spiral for her. Nothing ever really looks up. Luke dies and she learns that he was himself in the final moments. *Whats worse however is that she wasn't there to see it. All she remembers is him trying to kill her. That's her last memory of him. His evilness not his kindness. *The war is over and everyone gets their happy ending but she goes back on the hunt again. *A new war comes up and she is left leading the hunters as the sort of clean up party. Trying to keep things in check while the gods lose their minds. It isn't all that fair. *A brief moment of happiness comes when she is reunited with Jason but he's so big. So grown up and just like with Annabeth she's missed him grow into a handsome young man. He won't need her that much anymore. *Without hesitating she is going to help him in his quest. Only to find out the reason all of this happened was because of Hera. Who has already taken enough. Yet Thalia's supposed to just let her baby brother go on a quest and save the world when she's just now gotten him back. A quest where he could very well die and she couldn't protect him. *Then to make things worse she has to continue playing clean up and wrangling monsters while everyone prepares for war. Only for all of her friends to go on a quest and risk death with no way to necessarily contact them. Imagine all of this boiling up. It would be so tiring. So exhausting that you can't help but wonder how she hasn't snapped yet? Percy and Leo and the others both got the love of at least one parent. She got the love of none. She raised her brother. She died for her fiends only to come back into a world she didn't know. If anyone has a right to snap it's her. Then again all of the demigods have their reasons and it's amazing they've held out so long. Anyways, I figured since no ones done one of these for Thalia I might as well. Thanks for reading,

#thalia grace #jason grace #percy jackson #annabeth chase #leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang #piper mclean #dark!percy #dark!thalia #dark!pjo #headcanon #pjo #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #theseven #rick riordan

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andromedahawking · 6 years

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NaNoWriMo Day 6

10K!!!

Tatie sipped her drink. “Then again, college professor money isn’t really anything to make a fuss about anyway. So I guess he does make a lot of money off it compared to the average.”

“That’s pretty nice. I’ve really only got the money for the bottom two floors of my landlady’s house.”

“You rent someone’s house? That’s interesting.”

“Well, I guess, but it’s not really that uncommon. It’s nice, and my landlady rents it to me at a really unbeatable rate. I wouldn’t be able to get anything like it anywhere else in this area.”

“That’s true,” Tatie laughed. “This place strikes me as a ‘rich people in the valley’ kind of area.”

“It is,” Maria nodded. “Which goes really well with my whole aesthetic of hating people who remind me of my low status.”

“Oh, then you must love me.”

“Oh yeah, totally. I’m jealous just looking at you. You have the pretty face, the nice hair, the good clothes, what’s not to love?”

Tatie giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Stop, you’ll make me blush. And look who’s talking! You’re way prettier than I am.”

“Oh, my god, don’t you get started,” Maria said. “You’re prettier than me, you’re not allowed to tell me I'm the pretty one around here.”

“Factually incorrect,” Tatie said with a smirk.

“Okay, we’re obviously gonna disagree on this one,” Maria said. “I stand by my findings, though.”

“Alright, then. And I stand by mine.”

Their food came, and they spent a few minutes in silence as they ate.

Tatie spoke first. “Hey, I’m curious—what about your parents? I told you about mine, what’re yours like?”

Maria let out a quiet hiss between her teeth. “My parents are… interesting people. To say the least.”

Tatie’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooo, I’m sensing a story behind that. Wanna share, or does that require a little more time getting to know each other first?”

“Nah, I’ll share with you now. It’s good to get it out of the way,” Maria said. “It’s a fun one, though, so we’ll be needing refills on our drinks.”

Tatie’s smirk became a grin. “Now I’m really interested.”

“You’ll enjoy this.

“My parents are a couple of typical New Jersey folks, born and raised. Mom’s name is Theresa, Dad is Richard. Surname of Prince.”

“I thought your last name is Taylor.”

“It is,” Maria nodded. “That’s my legal last name.”

“So, what, was your mother’s maiden name Taylor?”

“Nah, her maiden name is Youngston. I had my name changed when I was 15.”

“Oh…” Tatie’s face wasn’t quite as bright now. “So there was, um… ah, fuck, what’s the English term—bad blood! Bad blood?”

“Yeah, there was a lot of bad blood between us,” Maria sighed. “Because they really fucked up my life from the get-go. You know the whole thing that happened in the 60s about designer babies, the ‘tailor-made’ shit?”

“Yeah, I remember reading about that in school.”

Maria pointed to herself. “Congrats, you’re looking at one of ‘em.”

“What? You were genetically modified?”

Maria let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that’s a—that’s the blunt way to put it.”

“Oh—sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Nah, don’t worry too hard about it, I’ve got better things to be mad at anyway. But yeah, Mommy and Daddy decided that, rather than concieve their first child naturally, they’d rather have me grown in a lab and fuck with my genes so I’d be better than the riff-raff. That’s why I’ve got the hair, the eyes, and the fucking perfect skin. They also gave me all those super boosts to the immune system everybody was raving about.”

“Oh, Jesus, they really went the whole nine yards, huh?”

“Yup. Wanna know why?”

“Do I?”

“They did it to make a statement. To say science is good or some freshman English level BS.”

“Oh my god.” Tatie looked down at her drink, then downed the rest of the glass in one gulp. “Yeah, I see what you mean now. This calls for at least another round.”

“Yeah, especially since that’s only the foundation for all of the stuff that comes up after it,” Maria said. “It gets worse.

“Since I was the tailor-made baby, I was given the expectation of being a good example on every level. I had to be some sort of golden girl because of something they decided for me, which is bullshit upon bullshit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. I’m guessing things didn’t quite go so smoothly on that?”

“That’s being polite. I grew up with it, but by the time I was about 11, I started wising up to what was really going on with things, and, being a precocious pre-teen, I started acting up as well. And my parents got mad. Like, really mad about it.”

“Oh god, this doesn’t end well, does it?”

“No, it does not. Remind me at some point that I need to talk about how my little sister fits into it.

“So, since I was fucking up the perfect image these guys were working so hard to create, they got angry, and I started to suffer the consequences for my actions. Y’know, for all the stuff they would say about being caring, loving parents and never wanting to hurt their kids, they did an awful lot of it. Never anything physical, although Dad came awfully close a couple of times near the end. So I decided I wanted out, and I spent ages 13 through 15 working up a case to bring to court, and I actually managed it.”

“Yikes. That’s pretty scary.”

“Yeah. I moved out, changed my last name, used all my savings to pay for my last two years of high school while I got a job, and I got lucky with finding my landlady, so I had a good place to stay.”

“What about your sister? How did she deal with things?”

“Oh, man, she got the short end of the stick, which is saying a lot. If I was the golden girl who was expected to make the family look progressive or some shit, Thalia was the extra. They managed to get some bonus points with her despite her all-natural conception, since she was born blind, but she turned out to be just as troublesome as me. Worse, even. ‘Cause I only acted out by ruining my image, but she went further and actually went out of her way to piss other people off. For a blind kid, she apparently knows how to pick a fight.”

“Damn. I imagine she never really came out the winner in those.”

“Nope. Multiple bloody noses and awful bruises. And boy howdy, I could feel Dad’s shouting through the floorboards in my room upstairs.”

“Yikes. Richard does not sound like a very nice guy at all.”

“Oh man, what I wouldn’t give for an opportunity to tape his mouth shut and give him the shouting of a lifetime one of these years. I have enough repressed rage to power my house for a month.”

“Man, this makes my life sound positively idyllic,” Tatie said. “The worst I had to deal with was a few mental illness problems caused by my own unrealistic expectations.”

“Well, I can’t judge you for that, unfortunately, ‘cause I know mental illness is a fucking beast that doesn’t really care who you are or how good your life is.”

“Yeah, that much is true. I’ve spent the last five years of my life on medications for anxiety and depression and it’s honestly a bit of a fucking nightmare sometimes.”

“I could probably use something similar, myself,” Maria said. “I haven’t had the spare cash to afford mental treatments.”

“Yeah, from where I sitting, I think you could also benefit from some professional help,” Tatie giggled. “As well as some better living conditions than paycheck to paycheck.”

“Well, I can’t really complain about the pay part. Everybody goes through that phase when they leave the nest. I wouldn’t mind a little extra spare change every so often though, give me the chance to come out here more. That would be nice.”

“Maybe next time we get together I should just invite you to my place. That way we don’t have to worry about picking up a check when we’re finished.”

“I wouldn’t mind that so much. What would we do at your place?”

“Oh, we could do a lot of things. We could watch movies, cook, maybe bake something, get drunk, all the good stuff that girls normally do together, y’know?”

“I like the sound of that. I like the sound of that.”

“Of course, the real question is, would we get anything done for the project in the process? Because, after all, part of this is to get to know you as a groupmate, not just as an unfairly attractive friend.”

“Okay, first of all, sweetie, like I said, the attractive one at this booth is you, not me, and second of all, you make a fair point.” Maria took a big sip of her drink. “I think we could get a lot done for the project if we put our minds to it. The big roadblock would be focusing, and I think given our previous experiences dealing with idiots in group projects, we would be too afraid of dealing with that shit again to let ourselves slide. Especially since we’ve got people like Hannah and Adrien on our asses this time.”

“Very true,” Tatie nodded. “I don’t know much about Adrien, but I can vouch for Hannah’s track record. She’s very strict about keeping projects moving. It gets nasty if you don’t stay on her good side.”

“Ah. Excellent. We’re five for five on people in this group who will tear out the throats of the slackers.”

“Oh, I enjoy being a part of that group. You get to see the fear in their eyes.”

“The best of things. Those fuckers earn it.”

“Damn right they do. I see no reason to show mercy.”

#NaNoWriMo #My work #My OCs

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xaphrin · 7 years

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Tall Tales

The bookshop she often visited was a nameless, decrepit storefront tucked down a hidden street, not far from the harbor. It was nestled between two grandiose buildings - merchant buildings and services - that almost seemed to pretend as if the bookshop wasn’t there. While they were both shining and new, with polished stone facades and perfectly poured glass windows, the bookshop was a strange, little building that leaned dangerously to the left, using one of the shinier buildings to hold itself up, like a drunkard being forced out of fancy gentleman’s club. The windows had darkened with age and the dirt of decades, light barely seeping in or out, and there was a ratty tabby that hissed when people who weren’t familiar customers inched too close to the front door.

Honestly, it didn’t seem like the kind of place she would frequent, but the bookstore had been there for years, and its owner was able to get her nearly every book she ever wanted - no questions asked.

“Ah, Miss.”

[more under the cut]

Obi was standing outside, leaving leftover scraps for the tabby, and he perked his head up as she approached. His face was charming - even handsome, and his voice was a rough, low rumble that seemed to speak of travels and stories that were best told during the late hours of the night. Shirayuki longed to hear what kind of tales he wove - she imagined all kinds of fanciful adventures with pirates and kings and rogues. Although, it was more likely that he was just a humble merchant, but still… something about him told her that wasn’t possible.

He dusted off his hands on his pants, a smile tugging at his lips. “I see you’re back again. This would be the third time this month, if I’m not mistaken.”

Shirayuki smiled softly, and clasped her hands in front of her, her basket knocking gently against the top of her thigh. “I… I have a new list. For the next time you leave. ”

He cocked an eyebrow, his smile widening into a teasing grin. “Miss… you’re going to bankrupt yourself if you keep buying books. I’ll have to employ you just to work off your debt.”

Shirayuki’s heart skipped at the thought of being around him more than just a few hours a week. To be trapped in the closed, tight corners of the store, no where to move around him… her cheeks flushed and she tried to let her mind pull back to the present. It wouldn’t do her any good to fantasize about him. She shifted and reached into her bag. “I made the biscuits you liked last time. The ones with orange and spice.”

He laughed, the sound easy in the afternoon air. “Are you trying to bribe me with food?”

“No. Absolutely not.” She was, but he didn’t need to know that. “I am just trying to be nice. You’ve done a lot for me.”

“But always for a price. And last week you brought me sweetbread, Miss.” Obi grinned and pushed open the door with the toe of his boot his head tilting to motion her inside. “I am beginning to think you are either trying to fatten me up to make a stew out of me, or you are trying to bribe me.”

Shirayuki pulled the tea towel from the top of her basket, showing him the biscuits underneath, still warm enough that the icing was melting just a little. Obi reached into the basket to sneak one out, shoving it into his mouth before motioning her into the shop again. Shirayuki smiled, feeling as if she’s won an argument and stepped over the threshold.

Inside was in even more disarray than the outside, books were stacked every which-way, orders haphazardly posted to a board behind his desk, and a cooling cup of coffee was perched on top of a ledger. Shirayuki vaguely wondered what kind of person he was to let something so expensive and rare cool, but she didn’t dwell too long on the thought. Obi moved to open one of the curtains to let a little light in, and then gestured to a set of table and chairs tucked in the back of the shop. It had always been his first rule - not to discuss business before a drink. Sometimes it was tea, sometimes it was something stronger.

“So… how has his Highness been? I imagine he’s keeping you busy - running around, curing illnesses, helping the castle stay healthy and happy.” There was a bite to his voice, like a dog that didn’t trust a stranger, but knew better than to snap its teeth. He flashed her a half-smile, trying to remain light-hearted. “You must be happy about keeping busy at the very least.”

“I’m happy to be busy, but… I rarely see him.” Shirayuki walked to a small cabinet that held a few nondescript bottles of liquor and a few dessert plates. She noticed they were newer than his last set, a ring of gold decorating the outside. “He’s been courting a noble’s daughter and we… don’t get along.”

“A noble’s daughter?” His tone was incredulous and he peeked around a bookshelf to look at her, a strange shadow in his eyes. “And a nasty one at that? Hm…” There was a slow, heavy pause, as if he was sifting through the information in his mind. “ Well, I imagine it’s his brother pushing him into a relationship for the good of the crown. I’m sure it’s not what you want, but…”

He didn’t finish that sentence, and Shirayuki wished he would. She wanted some kind of clarity on what was happening around her. Up until now, Zen had been her best friend and confidant, and she had gone to him for everything… but now he was closed off from her, putting up a wall she didn’t understand and couldn’t break through. And every time she did manage a few scant moments with him, Thalia would make a scene about how he was unfaithful and Shirayuki was a commoner - not to be trusted. Zen always protested and became angry, but it was briefly, until Izana whispered something in his ear and Zen would simply… concede. The anger in his would quell, and his fervor would be replaced with pained silence.

“Mm. I… I suppose you’re right.”

His expression softened and he returned to rifling through the bookshelves. “And His Majesty may yet come around, and allow you to be friends again or get rid of this noble’s daughter. He usually has an ulterior motive. Once it’s met, things will return to their status quo.”

“I… I suppose.” Shirayuki felt like her thoughts were running at a sprint through her mind at his words. She had never learned how or why Obi knew Zen or Izana, and she never questioned it. The only time she had asked, Obi gave her a vague smile that offered only more riddles than answers, and changed the subject so easily that she had forgotten. But there were times like these when Obi said something that made her wonder exactly what their relationship was.

She set two plates on the table and brought over a crystal decanter filled with brandy. Obi’s shop was a hodge-podge of things that were broken and worn, or repaired to the point of being ineffective and useless, but his shop also contained small nice objects - like crystal decanter, gold-edged plates, and a painting from a famous artists who on the other side of the world. He was a mystery that she didn’t know how to solve.

Obi pulled a book down from a bookshelf tucked in the corner and set it on the table in front of her. It was a worn, hand-drawn edition of plant life from an island nation nearly a month’s travel south of Clarines. It detailed plants and different species and genera, their useful properties, and what animals might eat them. It was amazing. The book was written in a language she didn’t know or understand, but that was fine, she could figure something out. After all, she did know a man with a plethora of books at his disposal.

Eyes wide, she looked up into his face to see him smiling down at her.

“I found it when I left on my last journey… I know you can’t read it, but I thought…” He paused and Shirayuki could have sworn his ears turned just a bit pink. But, maybe it was just the light. “...I thought you might like it.”

“Oh…” Her heart fluttered, and she thought back to the vague flash of a fantasy of being pressed between the bookshelves - her chest brushing against his as he leaned over her, mouth opening just a little to…

“How much do I owe you?” She forced out the question just a little too loud, trying to stave off the way she was gasping and the flush to her cheeks. Her limbs were trembling and she had to readjust her skirts just to feel like she had some kind of control over her live, even if it was for just a minute.

Obi smiled, and that certainly did not help her at all.

“Just your company and that basket of biscuits.” He sat down in the chair across from her, reaching for the brandy. His eyes met hers under the dark fringe of his eyelashes, and that half-cocked smile appeared again, like he was a rogue with a secret he didn’t want to utter. “I think that’s enough... for now.”

What… what did that mean?

“Brandy?”

Shirayuki just swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “Y-yes.”

#obiyuki #obiyukibingo #bookstore au

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sparemyocs · 7 years

Text

Loyalty (Pt 1)

The campfire was pleasant on the group's faces amidst the miserable boggy surroundings. Dorian hung onto Hanhari's side, muttering about why they'd possibly need to come back into the shorter man's hair. Cassandra and the Iron Bull were less vocal, but truthfully they were wondering exactly the same thing.

“You know boss, most people aren't nearly so... relaxed, with their shoes filled with mud and their everything else soaked.”

“I'm used to it. ...My birth clan stuck almost entirely to the swamps in the northern Free Marches. Admittedly, this place is a lot colder.”

“It's freezing and wet amatus. When can we leave?”

“I'm sure we'll be out of here by tomorrow. At least there aren't as many corpses this time.”

“Oh yes! Highlight of the day there's no doubt.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes at the man's whining, turning her attention to the Inquisitor. “You speak of your family little. I would not think that reminders of them would soothe you.”

“It's... Well no, it's not complicated at all. ...Do you really want to know, Cassandra?”

“...A little. You mentioned you had a brother once.”

“A younger one, yes. The rest of my family has... passed, as well. I still love them all dearly however. Nuan i'tel 'ma'lethal, y'gira banal'halam i'em.”

“I'm sorry. Losing my brother alone was very hard on me. I can't begin to imagine what it must have been like to lose so many you care for. We do not need to speak on this further.”

“You know Cassandra, you remind me a little of him at times.”

“Do I?”

“It's little things really. I don't think you'd actually like him at all. Too rude. Downright crass honestly.”

The Iron Bull chuckled, “Oh yeah? Now I'm curious. Think you could give us an example?”

“No, I couldn't. It was hard enough hearing some of what came out of isa'ma'lines mouth.”

“It couldn't have been that terrible amatus. I'm still rather curious myself. It isn't as though you've never sworn before.”

“He got very creative.”

“Well that just makes it fun!”

Cassandra groaned in disapproval. “Moving on.”

“He liked the same sort of books you do, and he was very brave. Softhearted, though only if he thought you deserved it. And tough as nails...”

The Iron Bull quickly noticed the way the elf's eyes glazed over, “Hey, happy thoughts boss. Nobody will be able to tell if you're crying in this weather.”

That seemed to snap him out of it, making him giggle. “If I had a tarp to throw over us I would have already. Luckily the tents should be dry fairly soon.”

“Indeed, at which time we climb inside them and get them wet all over again!”

“Got any good stories about your little brother while there's time boss?”

“Hm... The first one I can think of is embarrassing.”

“Off to a great start.” Bull smiled as he teased.

“Second one goes against the 'happy thoughts' rule The Iron Bull established.”

“Not that one then, it's dreary enough out here without making you of all people upset.” Dorian pushed some of the wet hair that'd gotten stuck to Hanhari's forehead back and out of the way.

“Third.... It's not so much a story as something I remember very well.”

“We could start with that then, if you wish Inquisitor.”

“He hated our names. Harihan thought they were our father's awful idea of a joke.”

Dorian sat up a bit. “Hold on. His name was Harihan? As in 'Han-hari' and 'Hari-han'? Maker, I'm afraid I'm taking his side in this debate.”

“Uh, ditto. What would your parents have done if they'd had a third kid?”

“Something with an 'H'. Our father's name was Halvern. ...Could have been something with a 'Vh' too I guess.”

“Let me guess, your mother's name started with a 'Vh', making them one of those couples.”

“...Vhiryali, yes.”

“Amatus, you were raised by some of the most annoying people I know of. Harmless, mind you. But obnoxious.”

“Indeed, I have heard of far more... interesting naming schemes.”

“...Whenever he got irritated about it, I'd make him feel better by reminding him that I have a classically feminine name. He'd grumble, but it always worked. He liked to claim that it was the reason that the clan always expected more of me while he could get away with doing whatever he wanted.”

“Of course being the first born had nothing to do with it,” Cassandra pointed out.

“Well, our father didn't make him be our Second. He was training to be our war master instead at his own request. He thought he'd be better in that position I guess. Not that I really had a problem with that. I wanted to be our First.”

“Second?”

“More or less the same thing as a First, just further down the chain of succession.”

Cassandra nodded, satisfied. “Why did you wish to be a First then?”

“I wanted to be a Keeper. Usually for the knowledge, the honor, and to protect 'ma'lethal.”

“Still don't speak Elvhen boss.”

“My clan.”

“What about when it wasn't for those reasons?” Cassandra tilted her head somewhat as she prodded.

“I was being a brat and wanted to do a better job than my father was doing. Nulaman sil'te'panen ar'emem'i ish... He never held it against me however.”

“Probably just recognized you were being a child amatus.”

“Indeed, many desire to outdo their parents and not always with due cause.”

“Hey, what about that other story? The first one you mentioned.” The Iron Bull poked at the fire with a stick he'd found, causing both the mages to pour some energy into it to keep it going in defiance of the constant dribble.

“The embarrassing one? Figures you'd want to know my dirty laundry, the Iron Bull.”

“Oh so it's embarrassing for you, not your brother hmm? How intriguing.”

“Hush, 'ma'lath. I'm sure you have your share of embarrassing tales.”

“Of course not! I'm far too poised for such nonsense.”

“Mmhmm. Vin avise. Well... As a premise, I was sixteen and in the midst of my first da'nerash. I was hopeless, head over heels, puppy eyed, whatever other sayings there are for the matter.”

“That's adorable amatus.”

“It'd also been three years since it'd started and I hadn't done a thing. Other than occasionally making a fool of myself that is. I learned later that she'd known the entire time.”

“Oh wow boss, that's kinda...”

“Pathetic I know. My brother was absolutely sick of it. So he decided to try and play matchmaker.”

“This is going to be rich.” The Iron Bull leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his hands.

“He was not nice about it. She was a warrior for our clan, so his first plan involved tricking me into one of the hunters traps and getting her to save me. Thing is, she wasn't in camp when he got the first half of the plan done so I was left hanging, upside down of course, for three hours.”

“Yikes. Why didn't you do anything about it? Like, you've got fire right? You still could do the burning stuff thing back then couldn't you?”

“Oh, right. He'd also taken my knife and dosed me with Magebane.”

“Your brother was an ass,” Bull grunted, but didn't hide his small smirk.

Hanhari smiled, “Definitely, but he meant well. He was also thirteen at the time. Thirteen year olds aren't good at making thoughtful decisions.”

“So three hours go by... Did she rescue you?” Dorian was trying to hold back a smile at the image of his poor amatus dangling upside down from some tree in the middle of nowhere at the behest of a younger sibling. All the more reason to appreciate being an only child.

“Yes, she did. She let me rest my head in her lap while I got feeling back in my legs and everything. I was even too out of it to be embarrassed at the time. I babbled my thanks like an idiot and she just nodded and laughed.”

“I take it this is not the last thing your brother did?” Cassandra smirked, leaning forward as she listened.

“Oh no. Next thing he did was get the two of us lost together.”

“Romantic or dangerous?” Dorian scowled slightly.

“Mostly the latter. She was near frantic the whole time and while I helped keep her from doing anything too drastic and even calmed her down outright sometimes, I didn't know where the clan was either. The territory and terrain weren't familiar enough for me use the tricks I did know, and I'm no hunter.”

“Was it a hunter who found you then?”

“An apprentice hunter named Sadahn, yes. I was not happy. He'd been trying to woo her lately; which is probably what spurred my brother into action in the first place now that I think about it.”

“Did she like him?” Cassandra's eyes had widened.

“She did. Thalia was overjoyed to see him. ...I sulked all the way back to camp.”

“Third wheel, boss?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Ouch. That's a pretty spectacular backfire right there. Was she pretty?”

“Ir'ina'lan'ehn. She had soft blue-green eyes, round lips, long red hair-”

“Oh nice.”

“Ha. She was nearly as inansha as Dorian is.”

“You've always had good taste then I see.”

“For people who're completely out of my league? Certainly.”

“Ugh. Keep going.”

“My brother was getting worried that my chance was escaping, so he demanded I just be straight with it. He got me flowers for her and basically said 'get going.' ...It played out all very stereotypically.”

“Oh dear, I hear the sad part roaring up.”

“I found her kissing Sadahn, naturally. I scarcely remember dropping the flowers but I was out of there as quickly as I could be. Neither of them ever said anything so I don't think they noticed. Harihan was more than happy to keep me company while I bawled my eyes out.” Hanhari smiled softly, “It was for the best though, especially for Sadahn. They really were a fantastic pair.”

“What makes you say that?” Cassandra had perked up again from the brief sad mood as Hanhari continued.

“Well... About two years later, Sadahn ended up almost dying. Fell from a seaside cliff. The healers managed to save him but... He was never the same. He had a shake that made it impossible to wield a bow, poor balance, alhash'av. Isa'danam'sil frustrated him endlessly. She bonded with him after the fact, when so many would have left him for no longer being able to serve the clan. Swore to 'unite again the mind and body'. 'I've always admired Thalia for that decency, not to mention the fact that it's terribly romantic.”

“Head trauma is messy shit. Glad to hear the guy had somebody to look out for him.”

“As am I. He really was a good man...”

“Did your brother ever try anything like that again?” Cassandra pushed forward, not wanting the Inquisitor to dwell on anything painful for too long.

“Sort of. But I'm not sure if I want to get into it right now.”

Cassandra nodded, “It is getting late I suppose. I appreciate your willingness to share what you have at least.”

“Da'rahn. I appreciate being listened to.”

“Well if you still want to talk amatus,” Dorian stood, pulling the elf up with him, “I'd be happy to listen to you whisper sweet nothings into my ear that I can't understand.”

Hanhari chuckled softly, “I'll keep that in mind.”

Nuan i'tel 'ma'lethal, y'gira banal'halam i'em – [I] ache without my family, but [they] have continuation/immortality/without end with me

isa'na'lines – brother's 'ma'lethal – my family / clan Nulaman sil'te'panen ar'emem'i ish - [I] Regret thoughtless fights I had with him 'ma'lath – my love Vin avise – Yes tongue of fire da'nerash – crush (small/little like) Ir'ina'lan'ehn – Gorgeous / Beautiful inansha – pretty / easy on the eyes (literally: happy eyes) alhash'av – disobedient / wild tongue Isa'danam'sil – His broken mind Da'rahn – No problem (literally: Little thing)

#loyalty #loyalty part 1 #hanhari #dorian pavus #cassandra #iron bull #pavellan #Inquisitor Lavellan #hanhari background stuff #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #fanfiction #no idea when the rest of this will actually be ready #credit to project elvhen

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daihell · 7 years

Text

Home Chapter 4

It’s been a long time since the former Inquisitor has been to Ostwick. It may have been his home, but he has very few fond memories of the place. He never thought he would have to return there, but it looks like he’ll have to one last time. At least Dorian will be at his side. He’ll need the support when he is forced to face his family and his past. AO3

Dorian hated the sea. Just looking at it left him feeling ill and now he somehow had to survive two days out on it. He boarded the ship with minimal grumbling for Elden’s sake and even managed to stay above deck for most of the day, talking to other passengers and just enjoying themselves. This whole thing made Dorian realize they hadn’t traveled with one another in so long and he was surprised how much he had missed this.

Well, everything but the queasiness of course. After losing his lunch over the side he felt it prudent to retire to their room early. Of course Elden insisted on accompanying him. It was a long miserable night and after spending most of it curled around a bucket the novelty of the trip had worn off and he didn’t exactly feel up to moving.

It must have been around noon now and he was still lying face down on the bed, blanket pulled up tightly around himself and he had no intention of getting up anytime soon. He felt like groaning at every sway of the ship and found himself continually checking to make sure the bucket was still on the floor within reach just in case. He couldn’t even bring himself to raise his head when he heard the door open. Not that it could have been anyone other than Elden.

“What are you doing back here so soon?” Dorian asked, voice partially muffled in the pillow.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Elden said unconvincingly.

“You were in to check on me less than an hour ago,” Dorian pointed out. While he appreciated everything Elden had done to make him comfortable, there wasn’t really anything else to be done except to wait it out. There was no need for Elden to continue hovering, watching Dorian sleep, when he could be doing literally anything else. “You should be above deck, I’m sure there’s a lovely view of the wretched waves or something.”

“I don’t really want to be alone right now,” Elden said and the utter exhaustion in his voice made Dorian finally roll over to look at him. He was so worn down, looking defeated and no doubt making himself sick with worry and Dorian wished he could do more to ease his concerns.

“Then at least go join that lovely elderly couple for a game of cards, or something,” Dorian said. “You shouldn’t have to spend the entire voyage locked away in a room that smells of vomit.”

Elden shook his head, looking so dejected, and Dorian sighed. He moved over, making room on the bed so Elden could climb in beside him.

“Very well,” Dorian said, wrapping his arms around him as Elden curled tightly against him. “But you are blocking my path to the bucket. Don’t blame me when I vomit on you.”

Elden made a noncommittal sound and honestly that worried Dorian more than anything. Normally he would at least humor Dorian. He rather wished he wasn’t spending the voyage so far incapacitated so he could look after Elden better, instead of the other way around as it was working out to be. At least they would be docking tomorrow and hopefully he would be more useful with solid ground under his feet.

Dorian was in an out of sleep for the rest of the day and into the night, but every time he came to, Elden was still there, still holding him tightly. Dorian did his best to comfort him when he could, kissing his forehead and telling him it would all be fine. Thankfully he only had to scramble over Elden once in the middle of the night to reach the bucket. He pushed the bucket away and stayed there, draped across Elden, wondering how there was even anything left in his stomach.

He felt Elden brush his fingers through his hair, his left forearm rubbing gentle circles on his back, and Dorian just melted into the soothing touch. Draped over Elden’s chest like this, he felt warm and wrapped up in his comforting embrace. Eventually he was able to drift off to sleep again.

Thankfully, once morning came, Dorian felt rested and well enough to risk moving. Perhaps the sea was calmer or something. Their small room was growing stifling and he needed to get some fresh air, even if it meant having to look out across the sea so they headed up to the deck, arm in arm so Elden could steady him. It was also a handy excuse to remain close and maintain some sort of contact. Even when they leaned against the railing, Elden held onto his arm and leaned against him gently. Thankfully not enough to throw him off balance.

“How are you doing?” Elden asked, interrupting the comfortable silence and glancing over at him.

“Fine, fine,” Dorian said, waving a hand as if to brush away his concern. “I am determined not to spend the entire trip bedridden, seasickness or no, even if you have to cart me around.”

That earned him a chuckle at least. Honestly, he was just glad Elden seemed to be feeling better as well. He seemed lighter, like he had come to some sort of peace with his current situation. Either that or he was just too exhausted to worry any longer. Both were possible for Elden. Either way, they still had time to prepare. Today they could relax, stay at an expensive inn with a soft bed that didn’t rock endlessly and perhaps actually enjoy themselves. They could worry about everything else tomorrow.

“I should probably tell you more about my family before we get there,” Elden said after a moment as they stared out across the horizon.

“It can wait,” Dorian said, giving his hand a squeeze, not wanting to ruin things after how poorly Elden had been feeling the day before.

“It’s fine, I’m all right,” Elden insisted. He was silent a moment longer, perhaps contemplating where to begin. “My father’s side of the family is from Starkhaven. You probably could have guessed that though.”

“You have inherited a bit of an accent,” Dorian said, chuckling.

“That’s about all I got from him I’m afraid. Politics have always been his priority and I could never keep up. He can talk himself out of anything, calm even the angriest of customers. I always admired him for that. My oldest sister, Cicilia; she was good at that sort of thing too. Father spent most of his time training her. He didn’t see much point in spending time with the rest of us.”

“I see,” Dorian said, unable to keep his disapproval out of his voice. “And where is your sister now?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t kept in touch with her. She’s nine years older than me so we were never really close. I imagine she’s traveling, dealing with the various branches of father’s company. Since my mother is from Ferelden, we have a lot of contacts there.”

“I’ve been curious about that, actually,” Dorian said. “How exactly did your parents meet?”

“Their marriage was an alliance of sorts, actually.” Elden said. “My mother’s side of the family are in trades as well. They’d barely met before that, but they seem happy enough together. She’s– well, she’s very Ferelden. She kept dogs and enjoys hunting and is very enthusiastic about the Grand Tourney. My brother Matheus– he’s five years older than I am. He was her favorite. When Dez and I showed talent with the sword, mother was pleased, but always wished we was more like him. I think he joined the military, but I don’t know.”

“I’m guessing the two of you weren’t close either?”

“Yeah,” Elden said quietly, staring down into the sea as it swirled against the boat. It seemed like there was more to that story, but he didn’t seem ready to elaborate, so Dorian held his tongue. After a moment he continued. “Then there’s Thalia, she’s two years older than me, and Dez of course.”

“I know Dez visited recently, but how is Thalia doing?” Dorian asked, hoping to push things in a happier direction. He was just glad Elden still had some family he was close to.

“She’s doing well,” he said. “She’s still helping her fellow mages adjust after the changes Leliana is making.”

“Perhaps we should visit her at some point,” Dorian said. “For this trip, though, at least it sounds like you’ll only have to deal with your parents, but I am starting to wish we’d dragged Dez along with us.” He always liked Dez. She was a bit serious, true, but it was obvious she cared for Elden. And he always enjoyed seeing them interact. For twins they were quite different.

Elden laughed at that. “I’m pretty sure there’d be some sort of fight if that happened. She’s never gotten along with mother.”

“All the more reason to have her around,” Dorian said, nudging him gently. “It’ll definitely keep things interesting at least.”

“That’s true.”

“So what’s the plan beyond parents and the Chantry? Any old haunts you’d care to take me to?”

“I’m afraid Ostwick isn’t the most interesting of places,” Elden said with a smile. “Especially not after Orlais or any number of cities we’ve visited.”

“No, but you did grow up here,” Dorian pointed out. “That makes things different. I seem to recall dragging you all around Minrathos not too long ago, this is your chance for revenge.”

“It’s a shame the Grand Tourney isn’t held this time of year. That would have been fun. I’m sure we can find something to do though.”

#dorian pavus #pavelyan #dorian x inquisitor #elden trevelyan #inquisitor #trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #home #cal writes stuff #in which elden's siblings finally get names #seriously it took me so long to decide #also Dorian is seasick and I did my best not to make it gross #hopefully I succeeded

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