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berrybore · 1 day ago

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I 100% agree that canon Sally made choices against Percy’s best interest at times but I don’t necessarily think Gabe was one of them.

Let me explain, we do know that Sally knew about Poseidon and camp, there’s a very really possibility that she also knew about the prophecy to an extent. As in, she must have known her son would be in a crazy amount of danger just for being born. We know from the text that Poseidon waited until the last moment he could before claiming Percy, until his powers essentially revealed to the whole camp who he was. That’s how dangerous it was for him to be found out.

I really don’t think Percy should have been raised at camp, that fact that he had a well-meaning, loving mother is one of the biggest things that set him apart from Luke.

I do think she should have sent him to camp earlier than she did but not years earlier like maybe you were suggesting. I also agree that it was an inherently selfish decision to keep him close. She certainly didn’t do him any favors by sending him away to boarding school after boarding school where he was always the new kid, always harassed, and even physically punished by the teachers in one of them (staff of Hermes).

She was in an impossible situation and she made choices purely out of survival not stability or safety cause they had neither. But this way he wouldn’t be outright killed. But Percy is a child and he needs both, so he grows up with low self esteem, neglected, abused emotionally and physically, and without a single friend in the world with how often he changes schools. He can’t talk to his mother either because she’s a little in denial and when Percy asks hard questions she gets emotional, and he feels guilty when he upsets his mom so he stops asking altogether.

(I do believe that she went into the relationship with Gabe with her eyes open and maybe that made it harder for her to admit to herself that she was stuck, that the man she was sure she could face down near damn swallowed her whole, because she chose this, of course in her mind she was still in control but I digress. )

I think as soon as Grover and Chiron were in the picture she should have told him. Instead she told Grover not to do anything. There was a fury at the school, he was found out and attacked, why was he still there for an entire semester after the incident?

We know they didn’t tell her about the fury because we know she didn’t know. Chiron mishandled that big time because it was at that point that it became evident that whatever scent Gabe was hiding wasn’t working. Him following her wishes to the point of keeping Percy at school after an attack from a kindly one without even informing his mother of what happened is actually crazy. Hades found him and sent him a fury to his school. Right under chirons nose. Percy was serving detention with her late into the night sometimes. They should have called Sally and taken Percy to camp together. Instead he was gaslit by everyone to the point of questioning his sanity. Ran away form Grover when they met the fates and Grover still refused to say a word. Didn’t say anything to his mom because why would he at this point, who would even believe him?. Not to mention the very traumatic introduction to the demigod life by watching his mother die right in front of him.

I just think about all the individual choices that Sally, Grover, and Chiron made that led to that night on half blood hill and I think how much it didn’t need to happen.

All three of them failed him.

Sally Jackson choice safety over stability in terms of how she'd take care of her child. Both her and Percy faced years abuse by the hands of one man. Does this make her a good mother who was in over her head or an unprepared one making an impulsive decision?

You found the one hot take even I haven’t dared say aloud yet, because I think it may just be my most unpopular opinion in this fandom. One thing everyone in this fandom seems to agree on is the “universal truth” that Sally Jackson is the best mother in the history of fictional mothers. So, here’s my hot take:

Sally Jackson is not that perfect mother the fandom pretends she is.

Sally during the series? Presented as a loving and good mother. But to get to that point? Pre-series Sally is not written as a good mom; she’s written as a plot-device with the things the author needs to happen in mind and not the motivation of a good mother who prioritizes her child’s happiness and safety in mind.

And I’ll back that claim up with three ways in which Sally has failed Percy as a mother. Not just once, but repeatedly, for years.

But before we get into that, I’d like to switch what you said first. Sally Jackson chose stability over safety. Sally chose the stability of keeping her child at her side over said child’s safety. She made an inherently selfish decision that was not with her child’s best interest and overall safety in mind.

Now, the first - and most obvious one - is Smelly Gabe.

And before I can elaborate on that, I need to clarify one very important thing here, before anyone goes “don’t blame the victim!” on me: Sally Jackson is not a victim; she’s a fictional character. Fictional characters can be written as victims, but they are not autonomous people who make their own choices; their choices are very deliberately made by their author for them. And I want to look at the choices that went into writing her this way, writing her story this way.

Real abuse victims get stuck in abusive relationships for a variety of reasons and they don’t get out of them for equally various reasons. Most of the time, it’s something like “he was so sweet and kind at first, but by the time he showed his real face, it was too late” (and, as a note to that; Percy describes Gabe as having been nice to them for a total of thirty seconds before showing his real face. Now while that is, of course, and exaggeration, it still goes to say that Gabe was pretty much upfront about what kind of person he was).

I’ve never heard one start with “he was the most disgusting, grossest man I could possibly find”. Sally Jackson chose this man. Not just in the way one picks a partner. She went out there and chose the stinkiest, grossest man.

It was a deliberate choice on Riordan’s part to have Sally choose an abusive relationship over sending her son away for his own safety. And this decision did not keep Percy safe; Percy Jackson was abused in his own home, by a horribly stinking man, for six years of his life. That’s not keeping your child safe.

The choice was not made to keep Percy safe; the choice was made to keep Percy with Sally. It was inherently selfishly motivated; she didn’t want to send him away, she wanted to keep him with her.

Sally loves Percy, she loves him dearly and fiercely, I’m not arguing that. But that love led to her not wanting to let go of him. And sometimes, parenting means making tough choices, sometimes loving someone means you have to make a tough decision.

In this case, the “tough decision” is presented as Sally bravely putting up with six years of abuse at Gabe’s hand. That’s the narrative chosen by the author.

But the actual “tough decision” would have been to send Percy to Camp Half-Blood, where he would have been safe. That’s the tough choice a mother would have had to make to keep her child safe.

That’s the tough choice the parents of most of the year-rounders have made. Mister Beauregard sent his daughter all the way from Paris to New York to give her this safety. The distance alone guaranteeing he wouldn’t see her for years potentially - because flying between New York and Paris is not necessarily easily affordable for everyone. Sally’s option was to send Percy to a camp that’s literally one and a half hours away. She could have still seen him, he could have easily visited her.

But her solution was to mask Percy’s scent by marrying a stinking, gross, abusive man.

Let me just stretch once more: Sally’s choice did not keep Percy safe. Sally’s choice made their home unsafe. It brought the danger and pain into their home. It may have moderately protected Percy from monsters - until The Lightning Thief kicked in - but it did not keep Percy actually safe, because it put him into a different kind of danger and through a different kind of pain.

For six years. And, this is where the “not a real person but a fictional character” thing comes up again, because this isn’t a woman where one choice leads to a date with a man which leads to a relationship which leads to abuse that she doesn’t know how to get out of anymore. She is a fictional character whose journey was set out to end with her being in an abusive relationship.

And we also don’t know why she didn’t get out of it. She’s not a real person, we don’t know if she was so scared of Gabe that she didn’t know how to leave, if her lack of a support system is what led to her not leaving him, or if it was the motivation of not giving up Percy. The real, actual reason is that Riordan wanted to keep her in there and keep Percy out of the loop until he was twelve and The Lightning Thief could happen. Because she was able of getting rid of him as soon as the truth unravelled and Percy met camp.

And I’d like to use the way she did that to drive back home just how bad Gabe was, just how bad the situation Sally and Percy were in for six years, really was.

She murders him. She flat-out murders him. Both, her and Percy, together. This twelve-year old child who we meet and get to know as kind and not... not a murder-child, is ready to kill a man. That’s how badly Gabe abused them; both of these kind people chose murder to get rid of him.

And it’s just something I’ve never gotten over. Riordan really made the decision that his protagonist’s mom would rather get them both into an abusive home than give Percy up to camp. That was his decision; there could have been other ways. One thing that would have made this seem less like a deliberate choice would have, for example, been Sally not knowing about camp.

If she was a desperate mother, who saw no other options? That’d have made the situation different too. But we know Sally knew about camp. She knew there was a place she could send her son where he would be safe from the monsters, but she decided against that, she decided that she wanted to keep him close, at any costs - and the cost was six years of abuse.

I do not think that this decision should be framed as a heroic sacrifice, because the fact that she knew of an actually safe solution and decided against it was inherently selfish. She did not put up with six years of abuse for selfless reasons because there was “no other way”; there was, she knew that, but the author didn’t want her to take that.

Sometimes, the sacrifice is letting go of your child. And, as mentioned before, she wouldn’t have let go of him for good - camp is in the same bloody city as she is living. Literally one and a half hours away from her.

Now on to the other two ways in which I think Sally Jackson failed Percy.

For one, the lies about his father. Now, real people who are left by their partner with a baby, they can pick whatever to tell their kids whenever. But, again, this is a fictional character and the author makes the decision for her. And this, again, was a decision made solely based on the end result; Riordan needed Percy to not be in the know by the time The Lightning Thief came around, even though from a character-perspective, telling Percy the truth earlier would have been the logical and right decision.

If your kid is a demigod who is attracting real actual monsters with his scent alone? Percy started really attracting monsters when he was six years old and for the next six years, Sally didn’t disclose the truth to him; not about monsters, not about his father, not about the fact that Percy may have powers.

Percy attracted so many monsters that it led to Sally getting married to Gabe. That’s how badly he attracted monsters. Which also implies that Percy must have seen monsters. We get to see in The Lightning Thief just how much Percy thinks he’s going crazy with the things he sees. And that’s been going on for six years too - six years and in those, his scent only got stronger.

This, again, isn’t just one decision she made. This is a decision she made every single day over and over again. The decision not to tell Percy about his father, the powers, the simple reassurance that he’s not going insane, that monsters are real. This was Percy’s reality and it would obviously only become more and more of an issue the older Percy got, but every single day, she chose not to tell him, to let him believe not just a lie but also steadily that he was going crazy.

And it’d have gone a long way if he had just known. Even with Gabe in their life, even if she hadn’t made the choice to send him to camp at age six, it’d have helped him so much to know the truth and be prepared for this life.

Because this wasn’t just an issue of “the guy left me, I don’t want to talk about it with my kid”, this was inherently about, once more, Percy’s safety. Knowing what to watch out for, knowing the thing you should watch out for is actually real, are huge factors in Percy’s safety. Having him as well-prepared as possible.

She knew his father was Poseidon. It’s not even that she had sex with some dude, not knowing who he was. She knew he was Poseidon. She knew what Percy’s parentage was, she must have observed the slow development of Percy’s powers over the years.

But again, she chose to leave him in the dark about it. He could have been well-prepared by age twelve. Read up everything on Poseidon, experimented with potential powers he may have, understanding why the fishes in the aquarium are talking to him and that he is not actually hearing voices, learning.

But that’s not useful for the author; Riordan wants an unprepared Percy who can be used to introduce this world to the reader.

The choice to not tell Percy the truth about his father and about being a demigod was made deliberately and, again, not in Percy’s best interest. And in this case, there really is no other interpretation left aside from “the author needs it to happen this way” - with Gabe, there is the legitimate argument that she may have been at one point just an abused woman stuck in a relationship with no out because we don’t know enough to know what her motivation and situation were exactly - but there is... no benefit at all in lying to Percy about this, no reason for it.

The moment he first started being in actual life-threatening danger because monsters came after him, it became a pressing matter to tell him what monsters are, that they are real and why they are after him and to prepare him for it.

Which brings me to the third instance.

She never prepared him - even just in a mortal manner. Even if we let the first two - the marriage to Gabe and the lies about his father - stand as they are, Sally could have done something very simple to prepare Percy for his life and to help keeping him safe.

Self-defense classes. Judo. Martial arts. Sword-fighting classes. Whatever.

Many parents teach their kids these kind of things from a young age. Parents whose kids aren’t in constant danger of being attacked by monsters. One of your first parental instincts should be to teach your kid to be safe; to protect themselves. Give him the means to fight back.

So, that’s it. That’s the three very vital and important instances in which I think Sally failed Percy as a mother; not just once, but repeatedly, for years.

Instead of sending him to a safe place where he could learn about his heritage and learn control of his powers as well as learning how to fight the monsters after his life, she chose to marry an abusive, smelly man whose scent would mask Percy’s. Probably. Hopefully. But it didn’t really, not all the time. As shown by The Lightning Thief and monsters coming after Percy. And Percy starts to think he’s crazy, because at no point did she tell him about the monsters, and at no point does he really know how to fight for his life, because at no point did she put the means to defend himself into his hands.

No. No, I do not think that those are the decisions a good mother would make. Those are decisions the author made because he knew the starting point of his story and he knew where Percy’s character needed to be for that.

The thing that’s glossed over are the choices Riordan implicitly made Sally make. To get to this point for Percy, at age 12, he had to make Sally repeatedly act against Percy’s best interests and deliberately not tell Percy the truth or teach him way to stay safe. So he masks those choices by putting on a framework that’s meant to make you only look at her suffering and the outcome, not the choices that led to it. That was Riordan’s choice and he framed it in a way that the fandom ate up and celebrates, when... neither Sally, nor Riordan, had do to that. There was another option on the table and, if Riordan had sat down and thought hard, I’m pretty sure there would have been more options.

The bottom line, what Sally’s parenting comes down to in the end, is that she and Percy got stuck with an abusive man for six years, because she didn’t want to send him to an actual safe place, she spent six years essentially gaslighting Percy about the things he hears/sees by not telling him the monsters are actually real and she repeatedly left him in unnecessary danger by not giving him the means to defend himself in any way whatsoever. And those are not signs of good parenting, not in my book.

But it’s just so much easier to ignore all of that and pretend that blue candy and trips to Montauk are the end all be all and that Sally’s fierce love for her son is the most defining trait of parenting. I know that. Most of the time, I’m right there with you - I love fanon!Sally, I love to pretend she’s the best mom ever and never did anything wrong, because I know the decisions are inherently made by Riordan and are a by-product; I know he wants her to be a good mother, I know throughout the series, he writes her as a good and loving mother.

But if I have to be honest and if I look at the whole text, including the implications of their past, canon!Sally isn’t that good of a mother.

#I also think a part of it is Percy absolutely refusing to blame her for anything cause she’s all he has #and he doesn’t want to unpack some of the damage that she caused #because then he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that his mom made choices that knowingly hurt him regardless of the situation #this could have been a great arc about kids idolizing their parents and coming to terms with the fact that their human too #but ahh that implies that riordan is capable of complex storylines #sally jackson #Percy Jackson #tlt #pjo

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wardenparker · 1 day ago

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The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Fluff, sweetness, flirting, crushes, reader's meddling bestie. Summary: Waking up beside your soulmate the morning after your wedding, you reflect on the meetings that brought you here. Notes: Welcome to a new story, friends! We're using date stamps as we tell this story, as scenes may appear out of chronological order. Enjoy!

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Normally waking up is hard for Javi. Too used to having his own schedule, late nights and lazy mornings. Things have changed over the past few years, the loss of his family fortune and business. Not that he minded no longer being the face of an arms dealer family, even if he wasn’t the one selling the weapons. That was his now incarcerated cousin, Lucas’s doing.

No, now waking up meant an alarm instead of the fragrant smell coffee being brought by a servant, he had to get up and make it himself if he wants.

This morning, this morning his eyes are open before the sun even thinks about peeking over the horizon. The early morning lighting up gradually as he watches your face, so peaceful in sleep. His soulmate. His wife.

Sunrise isn't normally your wakeup call. The mornings are always an early start for you because you like to get as much out of your day as you possibly can. It's been so many years of it now that you even wake up early on the weekends – but not today.

A rare morning of sleeping in means that the bright sun streaming through the windows penetrates your sleep to warm your dreams and drift you closer to reality. Although really, the thing that wakes you is the shifting of the mattress. The last time you shared a bed with anyone before last night was...a year ago? More?

But when you open your eyes, knowing it's your soulmate next to you is so exhilarating.

“Good morning.” Javi’s smile is bright, radiant like the sun as he reaches out and caresses your cheek. “How did you sleep? I think I only slept for two hours but it was the best two hours of my life.”

"Good morning." Like a magnet, you slide towards him on the mattress to tuck yourself into his side. "It's a whole new day. What did you want to do with it?" Neither of you have to work, so it's just...going to be beautiful all on its own.

“I should treat you today, no?” He asks with a grin. “It is technically our honeymoon?” The ring on your finger is just barely ten hours old, the excitement of that fact still humming through his system and coming off as nervous energy.

"We've got a whole weekend to do whatever we want." Honeymoon. It's your honeymoon. The last twenty-four hours have been a complete whirlwind. This time yesterday you were already at work. "I feel silly asking but...what do you like to do for fun?"

“Watching movies.” Javi admits shamelessly, although he no longer has the movie theatre he once did. “What is your favorite movie?”

"Oh gosh, that's such a hard question." Shamelessly happy that you can do so, you lay a kiss on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Your soulmate is so fucking handsome. How did you get so lucky?

"Maybe..." You laugh at how ridiculously hard it is to choose. "I think I have more like a top three. And they rotate depending on what kind of mood I'm in. But one of the top three is always The Princess Bride."

“That is a good one.” He grins, happy that you seem to light up and have a hard time choosing. “I always liked Wesley.” He admits shamelessly and winks at you. “As you wish.”

"Hush." Even though you nudge him a little, your warm cheeks have nothing to do with the morning sun. It's all mixed in with the dreamy expression on your face as you talk with him. Your husband. Your soulmate. "What's your favourite movie?"

“You must promise not to laugh.” He tells you seriously, although there is humor twinkling in the depths of his dark eyes as he gazes into your hauntingly beautiful ones. “Paddington 2.” He admits, his tone flat and honest.

“Why would I laugh? That’s such a sweet movie!” Daring to reach up to brush a curl out of his eyes, you end up smiling all over again. “I…actually really love watching kids’ movies. They’re great for comfort and cheering me up when I don’t feel too good.”

“They teach us lessons we could all use.” He agrees, capturing your hand and kissing the back of it. “We can watch them together. Snuggled up.”

“That sounds perfect.” Practically everything he suggests sounds perfect, and it’s not just the gorgeous purr of his accent. “It can be a sweet way of unwinding at night.”

“You would not mind?” He asks, brows raised and a hopefully look on his face. “I wish I had my old movie theatre, but we can turn the second bedroom into a viewing room?”

"You..." Confusion makes your eyebrows draw in. "Used to have your own movie theater?"

He tilts his head. “Of course.” He nods. “I will have to build one again. It will not be as big as the one in Spain, but the house will be much smaller too.” He sighs softly, feeling a little bit like a failure for not being able to give you the things he once had. Before he ever knew you carried his marks. “But maybe one day, no?”

"If it will make you happy, then we will absolutely do that." There are plenty of things that you don't know about each other yet, but you have every confidence that you'll be able to settle into things together well. You're soulmates, after all. You're meant to be together. "I just...I've never known anyone who had their own movie theater before. That sounds so fancy."

“It was a large house.” He admits, frowning slightly. He loved the house, hated the bad memories of some of the things that happened there. Although it was never all bad. “You know, Nic Cage came to my birthday party there?” He asks. “It’s how we met.”

"Is it really?" He had told you that they were friends -- hell, the Cages had come to your wedding last night -- but it was still something that you were wrapping your head around.

“Yes.” He chuckles. “I paid him one million dollars to come to my birthday, and somehow, we became friends.”

Your eyes widen, catching on a breath of disbelief. "So that's how you get a movie star to come to your birthday? Color me impressed."

He hums. “Back then, yes.” He admits, leaning in and kissing your shoulder gently. “Now, they are starting to want to come on their own. Not because I pay them.” He doesn’t have the money to do that anymore.

"You're an amazing writer. I'm sure you're just at the start of something really grand." The two movies he has had made so far have both been fantastic. You went home and watched them back-to-back after the first time he told you he was a screenwriter. "I consider myself very lucky that I'll get to be beside you during all of it."

“Really?” His eyes widen, as if he had never really considered that you would be happy to have him as your soulmate. “You want to be beside me?”

It almost makes you laugh, but the wonder on his face is so genuinely sweet that it sort of comes out as a sound of disbelief. "Of course," you promise him, and take his hand to hold both his and your left hands in his view. The hands bearing your brand new wedding rings. "That's what this means."

“Married.” The word is whispered, almost reverently, as if he is still in disbelief that it was ever possible. For him, it had started to look that way. He had loved Gabriella and had been determined to be a good partner no matter if they had not shared marks, but she had left him. He had floundered slightly, bemoaning love and at the encouragement of Nic to start working on his next screen play, he had stumbled upon the soulmate he had always yearned for.

******

Tuesday, February 14, 2023 Valentine's Day

The slowest pay of the week for the museum seems punctuated with particularly melancholy moments today. There was a private tour this morning with a proposal, and the squealing bride-and-groom-to-be had been allowed to take photos together on the grand staircase before regular visitors began arriving for the day. Their family and friends had been hiding in the house, waiting for the moment, all ready to burst out and shout with joy after the question was asked and answered. It had left you with a migraine.

Another lover had popped their question to her beloved out in the gardens while you were trying to get some fresh air on your short morning break. You'd fled back to the breakroom and hung your head in your hands for the rest of your fifteen minutes of quiet.

Now, in the middle of the afternoon, there are so many couples on dates strolling through the halls of Hazelwood House that it felt like an intentional taunt. Being fresh off a breakup at Valentine's Day is no one's idea of a good time. So you just pace your area, walking through the three rooms of the house museum that are under your care for this hour, and hope that the floor just opens up to swallow you whole.

Which is how you accidentally walked straight into a guest.

"Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry, that was entirely my fault."

Javi Gutierrez manages to keep himself from stumbling but immediately reaches out to steady you. “No, no, I was wandering around.” He shakes his head, ready to take the blame himself as his eyes meet yours and he swears that his heart skips a beat. He straightens slightly, still holding your arms. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, as if you had been injured by the minor collision.

"I'm totally fine." Shaken, sure, but only because of your own clumsiness and the fact that you just had to bump into the hottest guy you've ever seen in your entire life. "I—I'm sorry." Come on, get it together. "I was distracted." Lie, for fuck's sake. "I just noticed a little detail in the flooring that I had never seen before."

“The floor?” Javi frowns as he looks down at the intricate tiles beneath both of your feet. “What about the floor?” He asks curiously, wondering if it is something special.

"Well..." It's nerdy. It's so nerdy. But there actually is something special about the mosaic tile in this particular room of the house. "The billiard room is covered in mosaic, but I've never paid much attention to the grain of the marble before." An utter lie, you stare at it every day. "Do you see the swirls of blue and gray here? It's the same marble as the fireplace."

Instead of looking at you like you are crazy, Javi squats down and brushes his fingers over the glazed tiles, staring at the colorful patterns for a long moment, memorizing them. Then he lifts his head to stare at the fireplace. “So they tiled the mosaic with marble instead of regular tiles?” He asks, trying to follow.

"It looks like it." He gets excited easily, this incredibly handsome man, and it relaxes you a little. Guests who get excited about little details are one of the things you love most about working in a museum. "Now I'm thinking about taking a photo of the different colors and comparing them to the other fireplaces in the house."

“Can you backtrack through the house?” He looks around worried for a moment and then back at you. “The guides won’t get mad?”

"You're only a few rooms in, I can walk you back to the first fireplace if you'd like?" That would be the breakfast room, which is an easy stroll backward from where you are now and you point it out to him on the map that is printed on the packet of information in his hand. It seems he opted not to download the audio tour as so many do.

He tilts his head, contemplating it seriously. “Then we should do it, no?” He asks. “See if it matches? It should, or no? Maybe it depends on the style of the room?”

"Let's find out, if you're curious. We can check the three fireplaces in this section of the house and you can compare the pictures you take here to the others as you keep moving through the house." You would walk with him, guide him yourself, because it's just so nice to stumble upon someone nice and not on a date today...but abandoning your area of the house would get you in a hell of a lot of trouble.

“Okay.” He smiles at you and wonders if you are waiting for your partner to arrive. It’s Valentine’s Day after all and he had thought to distract himself with work. “The house is very, um, nice.” He says as you start to steer him back towards the other rooms. Small talk can be awkward and he’s not as good as it as he would like at times. Nervous about making a negative impression.

"The whole place is gorgeous." The grounds are a popular tourist attraction, with plenty of weddings and other parties happening on the grounds in addition to the mansion being a museum. "Have you ever visited Hazelwood Park before?"

“This is my first time.” Javi confesses. “I have heard of it, but woke up this morning and decided today was the day.” He had honestly figured there wouldn’t be a lot of couples here. He had been wrong.

"Well, welcome." Back in the breakfast room, you turn to face the soft green marble fireplace. "This does look like the same green of the turtle in the mosaic," you admit. The shades are remarkably similar.

“So they matched the edging of this floor to the fireplace.” The entire floor isn’t a mosaic, but the banding around the edges is. “This fireplace is larger.” He tilts his head. “Perhaps they did not have enough of the leftovers to use, hm?”

"If they only used the pieces that were considered scrap during the carving of the fireplaces, then it would make sense that they wouldn’t have any large pieces." The thin tile line around the otherwise parquet flooring has always charmed you unexpectedly. You had never seen anything like it before.

“It is a good way to use up all the materials.” He agrees. “Because I’m assuming the marble was imported?” It’s nothing he’s ever considered before but your enthusiasm for the details excites him.

"Oh yes, absolutely." In fact, you had had to memorize where all of it came from as part of your knowledge test to be a full-fledged docent. "This particular stone comes from Italy."

“You know a lot about this.” He smiles. “Is the house a favorite place to visit for you?”

"Oh!" You break out into a nervous laugh and realize that this entire time, the nametag and lapel pin that you wear on your cardigan marking you as an employee haven't been visible. "No, I--I work here. I've been here about a year now."

“Oh…oh I am sorry.” He bites his lip as he tries to hide the embarrassed grin. “I didn’t realize. I thought you were just an enthusiast.”

"Being an enthusiast is sort of how I got the job," you admit. Shrugging your shoulders, you straighten out your cardigan again and do up one button to make sure both pins stay visible. "It turns out that I really love it. Beyond just thinking the place is beautiful."

“That explains your comment about this section of the house.” He chuckles, wiping his hands on his pants and shoving them in his pockets. “I had assumed you were waiting on someone. Now I know that’s it’s other tour groups.

"Have to stay in my section." A light, awkward laugh travels between you but even that little sound from him sounds angelic. "But if you like these first few rooms, then you'll love the rest of the house."

“Which is your favorite room?” He asks, looking down at his map.

"Today?" You laugh a little, emboldened by the way he seems to smile with his whole face. Like he really doesn't mind talking to you. Like he might even enjoy it. "I love them all, but I think the library might be the best part of the whole house."

“Do you like to read?” He asks, charmed by your laugh and the way you seem to light up at the question. As if you aren’t normally asked a personal question. “The library was always where I was chided, but then it was also where I could escape into different worlds when I couldn’t do other things.”

"That's the beauty of books." Something you believe unabashedly. Stories are an escape -- whether that is books or movies or plays, or whatever else. "Being able to run away into a different world is powerful. It's freeing." Warmth creeps up your neck and into your cheeks and you nearly feel embarrassed for getting so excited about it except that he's still smiling. "The library in this house? I would curl up in front of that fireplace with a stack of books beside me on the chaise lounge and one of those little table all covered in the blue China from the butler's pantry and a whole plate of scones. I would just stay there all day and night."

“That sounds perfect.” He hums. “With the fire built up?”

“Oh, of course.” The scenario has played out in your head a thousand times, and one day you might just have to go antiquing for your own chaise so you can fulfill it. Of course…you’ll also need a home legitimate enough to have a fireplace. Not your shitty little studio apartment.

“Storm beating against the windows?” It would be a miracle in California, but he could imagine it in the setting of his latest screenplay. “Or snow?”

"Oh, it's been years since I saw a good snowstorm. I used to hate them, but I sort of miss it."

“I have not ever lived somewhere where there was snow.” He admits with a small shrug. “It is beautiful in pictures but I do not think it would be fun to have every day.”

"Oh, it's definitely not." Not even a little, and your immediate answer elicits laughs from both of you. "My favorite was when I was going to college in Boston and the college dug out our sidewalks for us. All the beauty of snow with none of the work."

“That is probably the best way to have the snow.” He admits with a laugh.

"Well..." Realizing you've probably monopolized enough of this extremely handsome, extremely charming man's time, you offer him a smile and try to smother the butterflies accumulating in the pit of your stomach. He has the most beautiful, soulful eyes you've ever seen. "Enjoy the rest of the museum. Take an extra look at the library when you pass through the south wing and you'll see what I mean about it being comfy."

He’s entirely disappointed to realize that he’s being dismissed. Enjoying the way you banter with him, he wishes he could ask you to give him the tour of the entire house so he could continue talking. Feeling more at ease with you than he has with anyone ever. “Thank you.” He hums softly. “I hope you have a wonderful day, full of beauty.”

"You too." You flounder for a few seconds, but you know you'll get in trouble if your supervisor sees you on the surveillance cameras talking to the same guest for too long, so you gently extract yourself to stroll as casually as possible back into the corner of the great hall that is included in your area of the house right now.

Javi watches you walk off and he sighs before he looks down at the map and pulls out his phone to take pictures of the rooms. Your attention to detail will have to be included in the film.

******

Saturday, December 23, 2023

It's the Christmas season the next time you see him, when the house is all done up in twinkling lights and wreaths with trimmed trees in almost every room. Bowls of chestnuts and pine cones and cherries replace the usual decorative hazelnuts and oranges. Pine boughs and poinsettias instead of big, beautiful flower arrangements. It's a nice change of pace, honestly, and on the weekends guests can buy tickets to the after-hours light display on the grounds. Out in the garden there are even refreshments and music plays from the trees that drip with even more lights.

Javier tucks into his light jacket. It’s not completely necessary, but it helps the spirit of the season. The lights are beautiful and he’s heard that the decorations are truly a sight to see.

The music outside just reminds you of the years that you worked in retail -- repetitive and sickly sweet Christmas songs pouring through speakers, but you dole out cups of cocoa and coffee at one of the refreshment tables outside with good enough spirits. There's bits of broken cookie to sneak every now and then, and the little gingerbread men are tasty morsels when you and the other docent working at the table can grab them.

“You were right about the library.” He hadn’t been looking for you. At least that’s what he tells himself, although he lights up for some reason when he recognizes you. “It’s perfect for a cozy day reading.”

"You..." It takes all you've got not to grab your friend's hand beside you, as the specter of the random guest you've had a crush on for almost a year materializes in front of you. "You remembered?" The full sentence is 'You remembered me?' but you don't say that.

He grins bashfully as he steps up to the table and looks down at the cookies and paper cups, trying to keep from staring at how pretty you are. Javi’s been around gorgeous women, but there’s something about the naked honest in your eyes that makes him feel almost feverish. “Of course I did.” He chuckles. “I went back through to find you that day, but you must have already gone home.”

“We move around the house every hour. To keep on our toes and so we don’t stare at the same set of walls the whole day.” Did he get even more attractive since last time? That would be so unfair. Criminally unfair, actually. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Enough to come back, even.”

“I had to see it during Christmas.” It also got him out of the tiny cottage he lives in. Around other people. Hopefully to distract from the loneliness of the holiday. “I don’t know if this might not be the best look for this place. Although I see it with candles lit all around.”

“It’s perfect in spring,” you tell him all too quickly, and end up flustering yourself so you have to tear your eyes away from his to look down at the grounds gather your damn wits back. “I mean…in early spring is when all the orange and hazelnut trees blossom. That’s how the property got its name. Hazelwood Park.”

“Is that so? I will have to check it out.” He looks suitably impressed and then motions to the table. “So, um, how much for a cookie and a cup of coffee?” He asks, not sure what else to say, but wanting to continue the conversation.

"Oh, they're free for guests. Help yourself." Your coworker offers helpfully, seeing you fluster and thoroughly enjoying the level of teasing that is going to happen after work tonight. "Why don't you take your break while we have a lull?" She suggests, practically batting her eyelashes with glee over the suggestion.

"Thanks, Moira," you hum with a tone that suggests you're going to kill her later. Then again? She has a point. These days that there are special events at work can be long. You've been on your feet for hours.

Javi is disappointed, sure that you will disappear on him since you have a chance to get off your feet and possibly get something to eat or drink yourself. “Oh, um, okay.” He takes a cup of be coffee and a cookie. “Thanks.”

"Make sure to show him your bench!" Moira suggests, far too loudly and excitedly to not be obvious, as she thrusts a cup of cocoa and a gingerbread man into your hands.

“Your bench?” He could kiss your friend for giving him something to grasp on to in order to keep the conversation going. “What is your bench?”

"It's...it's over on the west side of the property." You gesture to the left of were you're both standing and try to suppress the giddy and awkward shivers running up and down your spine. "Do you...would you want to walk?"

“Are you sure you want to?” He asks seriously, happy about spending time with you but it’s your break. “You don’t want to rest?”

"Benches are made for resting." Now that the chance has presented itself, you would actually be pretty bummed to miss out on the chance to chat with him again. And, in all honesty, you're pretty sure it's not your break at all. Moira just threw you out of the nest like a mama bird.

“Okay.” He agree to that easily and shifts to move the cookie into the same hand as his coffee to offer you his arm. “Lead the way.”

The chivalrous gesture damn near makes your knees buckle, and you follow suit. Shifting your snack into one hand lets you take his arm to lead him toward the ocean. "It's just...where I like to come sit." Of course it is. You groan at yourself internally. What else would you do at a bench but sit? "I take my lunch out here sometimes and things like that."

“So it’s your special place.” He likes the sound of that. Showing him something that you might not show every guest.

"I suppose you could say that." It's only a touch chilly tonight and the breeze coming off the ocean is welcoming. "It's a nice place to sit and think. To just watch the ocean and...dream."

“Hopefully the dreams are nice ones.” He offers, wondering what you might dream about. “Having a quiet place to think is always a good thing. I used to sit out at the cliffs and dream, plot, plan.”

"Cliffs?" Hazelwood Park is more or less on a cliffside, and you motion out toward the ocean again. "Like this one?"

“A little larger than this one.” He smiles as he thinks back to jumping off the cliff with Nic. “Mallorca has cliffs that go hundreds of meters in the air.” He tells you. “Some so steep you would be terrified to slip off the edge.”

“Mallorca?” Spanish. Damn. They really do make hotter men in Europe. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. You…traded one beautiful place to live for another?”

He shrugs slightly. “Hard to write movies anywhere else but Hollywood, no?”

“Hard, but not impossible.”

So there it is. Even the screenwriters in Hollywood are sexy. Maybe you should be grateful to live so close by, then? Southern California does have some fun things that back home didn’t. Rather than fawn over him — that’s never been your style — you just smile. “So you like libraries and you’re a writer. Stories run through your veins.”

“I would live in them if I could.” He admits wistfully. The little bench is drawing closer and he can see from the view from this point why you would like it. It’s a stunning place to look out over the water. The wind just a touch brisk as it ruffles his hair. The smell of the saltwater taking over.

“Me too.” And for reasons you can’t quite discern, you just keep talking. “That’s why I like history so much. It’s all just stories. Especially in big houses like this. Somebody’s whole life — their whole story — is wrapped up in that house.”

“And do you sometimes pretend you are the lady of the house?” He asks, imagining you in the skirts from that time.

"It would be sort of a shame to dream about the place and not dream the grand, elegant things. Wouldn't it?" When you reach the bench together, he seems to set you down first, letting you settle, and then sits beside you. "I think it's romantic. Curtis Hollingsworth built the place as a birthday gift for his wife. They were outgrowing their home because they were pregnant again, and he'd made millions helping to turn Santa Barbara into a spa town." The soft smile on your face is whimsical, but you can't help it. "Apparently, she loved oranges and hazelnuts. Which is why the trees are everywhere."

“He brought those to her.” He looks out over the water and takes a sip of the rich coffee. At least they had served a strong brew instead of something heartbreakingly weak. “To build a house for someone you love is a perfect way to show it.” He frowns slightly, remembering that he has a building site that was halted before the foundation was ever poured.

“It’s certainly a grand gesture.” Something in his tone and manner makes you hesitate, but you don’t know this man nearly well enough to ask a single personal question so you try to just press past it. “Of course, grand gestures aren’t the only way of showing love. Not by any means. But they do make wonderful stories.”

“Sometimes it’s just listening.” He agrees, thinking about how things between him and Gabriella had turned after moving to L.A. two years ago. She had been uninterested in the future he envisions and started working towards. Stopped talking to him about anything that wasn’t part of her own interests. He had tried to course correct, but it had ultimately not meant to be.

“I couldn’t agree more.” This time you do chance to look at him — sharp jaw and soft cheeks outlined against the night sky like a fully grown cherub, golden brown curls neatly and artfully tousled and waving in the breeze. He looks like a Romantic painting. “Lots of people talk about communication but not enough realize listening is included in that.”

His eyes find yours again, seeing the softness and understanding swimming in their depths and he feels like bearing his soul to you. “Is it probably the most important part.” He admits. “The world would be better if people understood that.”

“Again…” you swallow hard, feeling your mouth has run dry and chest fairly ripped open with the feeling of familiarity. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The silence falls between you. It’s not unpleasant, it’s almost hesitant. As if both of you are afraid of disturbing the uncluttered beauty of the moment as the waves crash against the coast at the wind batters playfully against your cheeks. Javi breaks off a piece of the cookie and dips it onto the coffee.

“You chose a beautiful night to come visit.” It’s clear and typically warm despite the ocean breeze, and even in the end of December, Southern California is a beautiful place to be. He could have gone to any of a thousand places but he chose to come here, and a small voice in the back of your head wonders — hopes — that maybe you had a part in making this place happy for him.

“I was compelled to come back.” He admits softly, looking over at you for a moment before breaking off the gaze to look out at the sea again.

“The house is like that.” When he looks away, you do too. “It draws people in.”

It’s not the house, but it would sound crazy to say that he wanted to see you again. Instead he hums. “I don’t think it’s just the house.”

“Well…” If you wanted to take that to heart, you feel like you could. It wouldn’t be difficult to give yourself that little bit of hope. But despite being easy, it would probably be very foolish. “I hope it helps you miss home a little less to sit on these cliffs, instead.”

“I think it does.” He takes the bite of the cookie and groans happily. “These are good.”

“Gingerbread is highly underrated,” you agree, and take a bite of your own after dipping it into your cup of cocoa. “I get why they’re seasonal but I wish I could find them so easily all year long.”

“Yes.” He agrees. “They would be good anytime.”

“What’s your favourite kind of cookie?” The question is innocuous enough, but you find yourself curious anyway. Curious to know about anything he feels like telling you.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder innocently. “A good chocolate chip cookie is always a comfort.” He admits. “Sometimes the simple things are the best.” He twists his head and looks over to you. “What is yours?”

“Have you ever heard of a hermit cookie?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, and grinning in amusement when he looks confused. “It’s a soft, spice cookie. Like gingerbread. Sometimes with raisins and nuts in it. They’re a bit old fashioned, but wonderful with coffee.”

“They sound like I should try some.” He would try anything you recommend right now, a fact that should scare him but it doesn’t. “How old are the cookies?” He asks, thinking about his screenplay.

“They’re from the 1880s or 90s, I think?” It does not escape your amusement or notice that this is the same time that the house you work in was built. “I don’t know if they’ve ever been popular outside of New England, but we do love them there.”

He hums and takes note of that. Deciding he will research it. “Hermit cookies.” He repeats. “Are there recipes for this? Online?”

"Probably." His entire attention has now focused in on this just because you said it was your favorite cookie and that makes you smile in a way you can't quite explain.

“Then I will have to look it up.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his coffee. “I like researching things. It is very interesting. Like your marble mosaic tiles.”

"You researched the tiles?" It's the sort of thing that you would only think of you or your coworkers doing, but hearing that he has enjoyed his time in the house -- and possibly with you -- so much warms your heart.

“It was interesting to learn how they chose the marbles.” He nods. “I never imagined a trip to Europe to pick out building materials.”

"It's a heck of a reason for a vacation," you agree, laughing slightly at the opulence of it all.

“Yes. And trips would take months.” He chuckles.

"I can't even imagine." To take a vacation at all would be a miracle. But one that was months long? It sounds positively absurd to your ear.

“Do you think they ever got bored?” He asks curiously. “Or tired of being away from home?”

"I have to imagine that they did." It's a question you've thought on more than you want to admit, but the stories in your head are always about everyday things. Wondering what the mundane things were like. "If I had a home like this I can't imagine ever wanting to be away from it. But I suppose the right person can make anything worthwhile."

“Were they soulmates?” He asks softly, having avoided the personal backgrounds of the homeowners when taking the tour. He had tried to keep his own characters in mind.

“They were. And when they left the house to their daughter, she married her soulmate here. And then her daughter married her soulmate here, as well. The house has a history of lifelong loves.”

“That is nice.” His tone is wistful. “I don’t know if I will ever meet my soulmate.” Javi confides, normally keeping that information to himself but he blurts it out. “I worry about it sometimes.”

“I don’t know a single person who hasn’t worried about it at some point.” Even your sister, who said she didn’t mind not marrying her soulmate as long as the woman she found was a loving partner, had been thoroughly overjoyed when she had found her now wife on Mate Marks. Everyone thinks about it — worries about it — even if they don’t want to admit it. “I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.” You offer him a smile, knowing you’ve gone over your fifteen minutes for your break and not wanting to be caught flirting with a guest on company time. “Whoever you do find is going to be very lucky to have you.”

He smiles again. “Have you found yours?” He figures you probably have, you are beautiful and captivating.

"Not yet." Even though you'd rather not, you stand from the bench. "I don't know if I ever will. Only time will tell."

“I know you have to go back to work.” Javi leaps off the bench and shuffles, wishing he could ask you to stay. “Thank you for showing me this place.” He bites his lip. “Uh, can I walk you back?”

The warmth rushes back to your cheeks, and you practically squirm with delight. "Thank you. I'd like that."

He offers his arm again, taking your empty hot cocoa cup from you to hold with his own trash. “Imagine the parties they used to hold here.” He breathes out as the two of you turn back towards the house.

"We're setting up an exhibit with some of the gowns. It's meant to open in about six weeks." You light up with that fact, excited to see all the swishing gowns and glimmering jewels for yourself. "Descendents of the family donated a large collection of clothing, shoes, and jewelry to the museum this part year."

“Wow.” He chuckles, thinking about the parties he would throw when he was pretending to be an olive oil exporter. He’s much happier being a screen writer, even if he can’t afford those parties and bought friends anymore. “That was generous of them.”

"They say the most spectacular pieces are still privately owned by the family, but the things I've seen so far have been absolutely gorgeous." If you're a little dreamy-eyed at the prospect, he doesn't seem to mind.

“It sounds like you would have loved to live during that time.” He smiles, knowing that he will have to insist the movie be filmed here.

"I'm probably overly romanticizing it," you admit. But the tent is in view already and you hate the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that wonders if he'll ever come back again. "I hope—" Biting back what you really hope, you go for a polite encouragement instead, "That the things you've found in your research have given you plenty to think about. And maybe romanticized it for you, too."

“It has.” Even if you have no interest in him, you’ve given him a focal point for his movie. “Thank you. This is a magical place.”

"Then I hope you'll come back again." At least in that you can be honest. There is nothing you would like more than to see him again.

“Really?” He’s surprised by your comment. Unless you are just being polite.

"Really." You promise him, but at the edge of the refreshments tent, you have to let his arm go.

He’s disappointed by the loss of your fingers on his jacket. “Well. I hope the rest of your night is magical.” He offers, bowing slightly and smiling at you.

"I can all but guarantee it now." One more smile. One more lingering, dopey smile, and you know you have to tear yourself away. "Have a good night..." Oh no. Have you really gone and sat and flirted with this man for your whole break and not even learned his name?

He nods and turns away, sure that it would be rude to try to extend the conversation. He will just have to go home and write about this, working it into the plot of his movie somehow.

******

Monday, June 10, 2024

The email went out before opening time, when only your bosses were up in the offices and the docent core hadn’t gotten to work yet. You’d nearly crashed your car in excitement while CarPlay read the email out to you on the highway.

A movie. An actual Hollywood movie is coming to film at the museum!

The second you clocked in and sprinted to the break room to put your things away, you almost clobbered Moira with squealed, giddy glee.

“Did you hear?? Did you see Leslie’s email?!”

“Oh my god, yesssss.” She lights up and nods quickly. “It’s a movie by that guy who did the Nic Cage movie a couple of years ago.” She informs you. “The one that won an Oscar and restarted that man’s career?” After a long slump of bad movies, the older actor had exploded back on the scene, apparently full of new life and motivation for his trade.

“I can’t wait until we find out more!” Being able to hug your friend and squeal together is such a rush. The two of you have become joined-at-the-hip work friends to the point where the friendship has bled into everyday life. “A name, a plot, any of the stars?”

“Actors.” She sighs dreamily. “Imagine if your soulmate or mine, is an actor who comes to film?” She loves the glitz and glam of Hollywood and always secretly imagined being an actress herself, although she’s realistic enough to understand that it would be impossible to have happen.

“Maybe yours will be.” You laugh, hugging her again before you have to break away to pull your radio headset out of your bag. There is still work to do today, desire the excitement. “You’ll have to make sure you always wear your hair up so your tattoo is visible.” The little raven behind her ear would be a hell of a lot easier to show off than the tarot card on her though, anyway. Moira’s tattoos are gorgeous and just unique enough that you would bet there was no duplicate in the works besides her soulmate.

“Oh I’m planning on it.” She licks her lips and waggles her brows suggestively. “What about you? Yours aren’t so visible.” She knows how much you secretly want to meet your soulmate and be with them. It was a drunken girl’s night confession but she had never teased you over it.

“There’s no reason to go around showing everyone my marks.” You shrug a little and busy yourself with plugging into a walkie-talkie and adjusting your headset in your ear. “A lot of people have ankle scars, don’t they? And I can’t exactly show off my butterfly.” Exposing that much skin is definitely against dress code.

“Is it your scar or his?” You had never mentioned that, just that you had a scar.

“It’s theirs.” However your soulmate is, you’ve tried very hard not to make assumptions about them. The person you hope for might not be the person you get, and that wouldn’t be fair to them. “I was nine when it appeared, so my best guess has always been they fell out of a tree or play sports.”

“And the tattoo is yours?” She knows, she’s just chatting because it’s better than actually getting ready to work right now.

“Twenty-first birthday.” You nod, knowing that she knows but that Moira likes a slower start to her day than you usually do. “I did the opposite of most people. I got the tattoo and then went out to get drunk.”

“Which is a very valid and smart thing to do.” She praises. “That way you don’t bleed too much and it’s a nice way to numb the pain after.” Her own walkie comes out to begrudgingly clip to her waist. “But this movie, it has to be a period piece, right? No way a modern millionaire would live in a house like this.”

“It has to be. There’s no point in renting out a historical house museum for four entire months unless you’re going to use it all.” Not that you know too much about the filming process, but it just makes logical sense. “And besides, they’re here in spring and summer, which is usually our busy season. So I’m sure Leslie charged them a fortune. But HBO can afford it, I guess.”

“What if they let us be extras?” Her eyes widen at the sudden thought. “Oh god, we could wear our work!” She giggles happily at the thought.

“I assume there will have to be extras somehow.” Truthfully, you’d let your Hollywood dreams die out a long time ago. Moira’s were much more present. It would be amazing to see her to be able to fulfill them with even just a morsel like being an extra. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

“When it gets closer you will be just as excited as I am.” She predicts with a knowing grin.

“I’m plenty excited,” you promise, happily hugging her to your side as the two of you head out into the house together. “I just think you belong in front of a camera much more than I do.”

“You’ll change your mind.” She teases. “When you see what gorgeous actors and actresses they bring, you will be begging to flirt with them. On and off camera.”

“Maybe.” Her confidence is catching, and you laugh again at the thought of it. Hollywood has come knocking on your door and it’s already making work a hell of a lot more fun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #Javi Gutierrez x f!reader #Javi G #TUWOMT #the unbearable weight of massive talent #soulmate au

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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I suddenly have a thought what if aeon! Reader is interested in amphoreus👀? when aeon!reader hear about this planet/world aeon! Reader want to visit this planet. But in human form, because you know aeon's form is so huge than a planet and so the people won't feel intimidated by reader.

Maybe aglaea feel something strong or devine is appear in amphoreus because of her golden treads.so, she inform the crysos heir about this, thinking of stronger enemy is appear but its just aeon!reader who want to know about this planet (aeon! Reader is just forget to hide their aura).

They are exploring the amphoreus, and heard about the titans and crysos heir. After hearing the story about the crysos heir, I have 2 diferent thought , here is my thought:

1. if aeon of fate! Reader have a kind heart, they will feel bad that they can't give the crysos heir a good fate, maybe they just hoping they can give it to the crysos heir but, giving the crysos heir a fate full of happy thing without the sad thing happened, will broke the balance that hooh try to maintain(because you know, story of life without bad things happen is not exist 😢). So aeon of fate! Reader don't have a choice but to give them that fate.

2. If aeon of fate! Reader don't have a heart or don't care at all, they just ignore it and thinking its just their responsibility to create fate for living beings just as Hooh told them to do, the type of someone like "oh,you have a problem? Its okay, as long as its not my problem" And maybe they will leave faster after that, to continue doing their task making fate for other living beings.

Maybe the crysos heir meet aeon!reader in their human form and have a talk with them

Thats all, I hope you understand what I'm saying because I'm not expert at english 😅

Oh, this is such an interesting concept! The idea of an Aeon of Fate visiting Amphoreus in human form, unintentionally making Aglaea and the Chrysos Heir wary, is such a fun setup. It’s got mystery, divine intrigue, and a little bit of bittersweetness, depending on how Aeon!Reader reacts to the heir’s fate.

I love both of your ideas for how Aeon!Reader could respond. If they have a kind heart, it makes sense that they'd feel guilty about not being able to give the Chrysos Heir a happier fate. Even if they want to help, they know that fate must remain balanced. Maybe they linger longer than they should, watching over the heir, quietly hoping things will turn out okay despite the hardships. That quiet struggle—knowing they could change things but shouldn’t—is so compelling.

On the other hand, if Aeon!Reader is more detached, I can totally see them treating it as just another duty. They visit, observe, and leave without getting emotionally involved. Maybe they even find the heir’s suffering interesting in a purely analytical way—like, “Ah, yes, this is how mortal struggles shape history.” It would make their brief interaction with the heir feel almost eerie, like meeting a god who could change everything but chooses not to.

Either way, I love the idea of the Chrysos Heir meeting Aeon!Reader in their human form, completely unaware of who they really are. Maybe they talk about fate, suffering, or the weight of expectations, and Aeon!Reader—whether kind or indifferent—gives them a cryptic yet meaningful response before disappearing. Imagine the heir realizing much later who they actually spoke to!

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #aglaea #aglaea hsr #aglaea honkai star rail #hsr aglaea #amphoreus #chrysos heirs

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monstersholygrail · 12 hours ago

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dray the crisis is hitting again can I get yandere mad scientist and their also mad scientist reader who loves experimenting with them? Thank u!!

Omgeee my first yandere ask, thank you sm!! Hope you like it, it kinda went all over the place (much like the couple lol)

Ever since Yandere!Mad Scientist was a boy the twisted darkness of scientific exploration spoke to the depths of his soul. He carried it with him throughout his childhood and the so-called deranged experiments he would conduct on the neighborhood animals.

When you, the new neighbor’s child, cried over the loss of your cat, Yandere!Mad Scientist felt something shift inside of him for the first time in his few years on this earth. He wondered briefly if this is what his parents meant when referring to emotion. He wanted… more of this strange sensation. He also wanted to use his gifts for someone else for a change. Another first your presence has given him.

He knew you would appreciate the gift that resulted from his experiment, and appreciate him, even when no one else ever has. Something in him told him you would understand. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, no, he believed in cold hard facts and science. But perhaps in this one exception… it was your soul calling out for him. It had to be. Who was he not to answer?

The moment you throw open the gift box in your family’s living room to reveal your cat’s moving head on a mechanical body and your joyous squeals mingle with your parents horrified screams, he knew. The way you marveled at his accomplishment as you hugged your cat close before your parents tore it away from you in terror.

He knew you were meant to be his. And someday when he wasn’t so little and you weren’t under the control of your parents, you would be. By the possessive look you flash him as your parents usher him out and threaten to call the cops, he knows you have the same idea.

As you both continued to age, Yandere!Mad Scientist’s experiments only got more complex and dangerous. Though now you were right there by his side, driving his theories down even darker avenues. Your creative mind just as twisted as his, if not more so. Your genius unparalleled.

Of course, a series of strategic maneuvers had to be set in place every time you both snuck away to meet up given your parents had permanently banned you from seeing ‘the freak kid next door.’ They still hadn’t gotten over the little cat incident. The fact that you kept the cat alive to this day probably not helping them move on either.

But nothing could keep you away from each other. He was yours and you were most definitely his. With your work together you two would take control of the world and destroy anyone who tried to get in the others path. They were all of inferior minds to you two, they had no right to deny you what rightfully belonged to you and him.

No one would be able to touch you or keep you from him again. It was only a matter of time.

When you and Yandere!Mad Scientist got to college it was the real first taste of freedom either of you had ever had. He thought that this was it. You two would never be separated from now on. He’d be in an off campus apartment with you after school and during school you two would have all the same classes.

But then you have to go and betray him, doing the worst thing imaginable. Choosing a different major than him. While he had gone the expected path— the correct one— of a Science Major. You had chosen… Psychology. It was possibly the first time in his entire life that Yandere!Mad Scientist had been furious at you. You wouldn’t believe how tempted he was to handcuff you to him so you’d be forced to always remain by his side

He was actually searching online for a good sturdy pair the night you came to him asking for help with a project, the first you two had spoken in days following the fight you had about it. And that’s when he learns of your true motivations, the reason behind your desire to be a… Psych major of all things.

You see, you had started working on a memory control device that would surely help your plans for world domination. Of course, he immediately agreed to working on this with you. You two had never worked separately since you met and he wasn’t about to start now. Only he was allowed to know the inner workings of your mind, to understand the way your genius wove its clever webs. He was the only one who ever understood you and that would remain true for as long as he had a say about it.

Together, the work on your project progressed rapidly. The two of you working on it day and night. It was a little tricky, given you two only shared a few classes together where you’d pass flirtatious notes filled with complex algorithms. But he made do.

Though as you learned more from your classes and began applying them to the device, something started feeling… off about it all. More algorithms were attempted that he doesn’t remember running, beakers he doesn’t recall turning on were left running till they overflowed, and days seemed to pass him by where it felt like he had done absolutely nothing despite your excited rambling on the progression of the project.

One night, as you two are cleaning up from that night’s experiments, he comes across one of his many notebooks. Buried deep under a dozen others just like it. But this one has a book mark with an arrow pointing down saying ‘Read me.’ On the marked page lays a whole series of numbers and formulas he’s never even seen before in his one handwriting. With a sticky note at the top reading ‘Forget Something?’

He reads through what appears to be his work over and over again. No, this can’t be real. He never did any of this, it’s impossible. But as he watches the formulas grow more successful with each equation, realization dawns on him. It is possible. He just lost his memory of it. He looks up, eyes instantly catching onto your form across the room just as you look back up at him.

That playful smirk and mischievous glimmer in your eye that he loves so much. It’s as clear as day. As is what you’ve been doing to him. His lips curl into a mirroring expression and you just laugh, returning your gaze to your work.

Ah, so that’s how you want to play it, huh? That’s more than fine by him. He can play it right back to ya. To show you that his brain is all yours for fucking around with, so long as you’re his to do the same.

The next time you come to, the pair of you are sitting in an unfamiliar lecture hall. The teacher droning on about a topic you can’t really hear. Still half-asleep with your head resting on your arms.

“Wakey wakey, darling,” he murmurs in your ear, hand petting your head affectionately. You look too cute all groggy and disoriented as you slowly wake up from the device’s effects. He understands why you used it so much on him. Seeing you like this was absolutely irresistible.

You groan, eyes scrunching up tight. Your head feeling like it weighs about a metric ton and your eyes begging to remain closed forever. You open them anyway, lashes fluttering as you try and focus in on your surroundings. The lecture hall is completely unfamiliar to you. And given the stone walls, you’re in a completely different department.

“W-where am I?” You ask, voice slightly slurred from misuse.

He is having too much fun watching you. It’s wild seeing the device be used and the impacts it has on its users. He briefly wonders if you’ll forget all about this feeling just as he had. He cups your chin with a surprising tenderness, slowly bringing your attention back on him.

“Don’t you remember, dear? You decided to transfer into the Science department. Now, we’ll be together in all our classes. Just like you wanted,” he rumbles, his voice like a hypnotic lullaby as his thumb soothingly caresses your jaw.

It takes a moment for you to break through the comforting haze of his touch so his words can register. Your brows furrow deeply, having no memory of leaving your previous major. The words begin to repeat in your head, echoing and pounding against your skull.

Remember.

He can the moment clarity begins to dawn on you. Your eyes losing that dazed effect to them. He practically watches as you put the pieces together, realizing what must’ve happened just like he did. Though he has to give you props for how fast you realized. Your genius only made him fall harder for you, want even more of you.

But when you burst out into a fit of quiet giggles, your eyes lighting up with pride, he can feel the strings you have wrapped around his heart grow impossibly tighter. It was that pride in your work, pride in the success of the device, and even pride in him for managing to get one on you.

Your laughter is infectious and soon he’s laughing right along with you in the lecture hall, leaning in close and marveling at what you two can do when you put your minds to it.

He looks into your eyes, his hand sliding to cup your cheek and holding you like you’re the most the precious thing in the world to him. And just like back when you were kids, with one look he knows what you’re thinking.

That there is nothing better than experimenting with each other. In every way possible.

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thetireddoktor · 1 day ago

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Cotl AU: Webs of Fate

Below is the beginning of my Lore for my Au: Webs of fate

How the Bishops Earn Their Crowns

The Crowns are not given freely. They are not inherited, or are they simply bestowed by divine right. To earn a Crown, one must suffer, not just any suffering, but a loss that reflects the opposite of the power they are destined to wield. Only through enduring the very thing they are meant to counterbalance can they be deemed worthy.

Each Bishop's ascension follows the same cruel cycle:

They live, unaware of what they will become.

They face great loss—the negative reflection of their future power.

In the depths of that suffering, the Crown appears to them.

If they accept it, they are forever changed, marked as a Bishop/God.

The Bishops and Their Trials

Shamura, Crown of Peace → Loss through War

Watched their home burn. Their people slaughtered.

The Webs of Fate, reduced to ash by their own mother.

Only after war took everything did the Crown of Peace appear.

Their irony: They wear the Crown of Peace, yet they have become War itself.

Kallamar, Crown of Healing → Loss through Pestilence

Watched disease consume his people, helpless to stop it.

Every healer, every cure—failed.

Only after the sickness had claimed everything did the Crown of Healing appear.

His irony: Now he can heal, but he could never save the ones he loved.

Leshy, Crown of Order → Loss through Chaos

Lived in a world of wild, untamed destruction.

No structure. No control. Anarchy devoured all.

Only after his world collapsed under chaos did the Crown of Order appear.

His irony: He now enforces Order, but he was born from Ruin.

Heket, Crown of Harvest → Loss through Famine

Watched crops wither, animals die, people starve.

No matter how hard she fought, there was never enough.

Only after hunger had taken everything did the Crown of Harvest appear.

Her irony: She creates abundance, yet she knows what it means to starve.

Narinder, Crown of Death → Loss through Life (or Immortality?)

He watched the cycle of life continue endlessly, trapping him.

Or he saw others die while he remained, unable to follow.

Only after he lost his connection to death did the Crown of Death appear.

His irony: He rules over death, yet he is cursed to never die.

Before Narinder's imprisonment

The crowns had different eyes based on their uncorrupted powers. All eyes are inspired based on symbols based on their ability.

Shamura's was the first to become corrupted, their 'Peace' hardly lasting more than a few centuries, turning from a Sun to a Crescent moon, much like the one in Cotl. "The rising sun after peace, dawn shining over a new day.

When the corruption takes hold, it twists into the shape of a crescent, a harbinger of change. It signifies that the sun has set on peace, ushering in the cold, unrelenting night of war." The "Corruption" is Shamura's trauma, from their loss. Shamura, though they had lost their way, works to keep their Siblings from falling from grace like they had, being the Wise elder sibling they needed, encouraged them to expand outside their comfort zones. Some tried to expand their power more than others. I guess this is the uhm.. Most I've gotten so far. I hope yall enjoyed reading. Next up, Shamura's Origin's.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl shamura #cotl kallamar #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl narinder #AU: Webs of Fate

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hitmanflam · 3 days ago

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Hello everyone!! 🧡💙 I'm thrilled to announce that I'll be hosting this year's Enkaze Week !

#EnkazeWeek2025 will begin from February 8th - February 14th, (ending Valentines Day!), continue reading for more info !!💙🧡

The prompts <3 :

Feb 8th - Reunion / Rainfall / Realisation, Feb 9th - Nostalgia / Late Nights / Bittersweet, Feb 10th - Domestic Life / Summer Time / Scars, Feb 11th - Royal & Escort / Florist & Tattooist / Hidden Identity, Feb 12th - Awkward / Dependency / The Mortal and The Immortal, Feb 13th - Long Distance / Fated / Recovery or Sickday, Feb 14th - 'I hate how much we click' Valentines Day Free Day

You're completely free to participate however you'd like, from art, writing, or just a simple something about them like expanding upon a headcannon!

All forms are welcome and I'd really love to see you join in to celebrate these two with me this week :>

If you do end up making something for them, please use the tag #EnkazeWeek2025 !!

You can also quote this post or @ me, I'll be reposting whichever I can see, I'll also be posting this prompt list over at Twitter / X and Bluesky so feel free to refer to me there aswell !

Note that this is only a GUIDE! Do not feel restricted to solely these prompts or dates provided, these are to give you ideas,, you can also post and join anytime even if the week is over :)

Happy Enkaze posting! Hope to see you participate 🧡💙

💙 - Flower language Blue roses signify longing, desire for the unobtainable and unrequited love and it represents the beauty of nature that is out of reach or a relationship that isn't fully realised,, the pursuit of the extraordinary 🧡 - Continued Daffodils symbolize unrequited love as well but with a catch, they also indicate rebirth, change, new beginnings and potential,, a single daffodil represents misfortune but a bunch of daffodils symbolise joy and happiness

#EnkazeWeek2025 #enkaze #ina11 #inazuma eleven #kazemaru ichirouta #inazumaeleven #イナズマイレブン #endou mamoru #inazuma 11 #my art #円風

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lifenconcepts · 18 hours ago

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HEY, Angel !!

Would you care as to describe your experience? I think not enough hear on just how varied and interesting we are, and it would be great to scroll through reblogs of a single post and be able to find those with similar experiences/feelings.

feel free to write whatever but if you would like some prompts:

Have you noticed the world seem more beautiful/peaceful since you’ve found yourself?

How do you feel about gender? Or having a name? Or attraction as a whole? Is it tied to more mortal instincts, or do you still have some essence of it?

How do you feel like you physically look? Do you have any preferences in form? Would you change the way you are perceived if you could - and into what?

How does your day get affected due to your mystical self?

Do you incorporate this sense of self in your hobbies / behaviours?

What does being an Angel or being of divine/holy nature mean to you? Do you consider yourself born here, a newly created angel, or one which has been around for a long time? Do you have any thoughts as to why you were assigned human at birth?

How much sense of “human”ness do you feel, and do you see yourself as equal to humans, something more, or like a watcher of life around you?

Do you feel like you have some higher purpose and reasoning of being here? A meaning of life, if you will call it that.

Do you have any religious connotations tied to your identity?

How did you come to realise who you were, and what signs did you exhibit prior to knowing this?

Do you have any other ‘uncommon’ bits of self apart from being a being of light, in a way? (Therian, otherkin, interests in specific things, neurodivergencies?) YOU DONT HAVE TO ANSWER THIS IF YOU DONT WANT TO!!

What’s your favourite thing about the bodily experience of being on earth? Is there any sensation you really like? (Taste, smell, touch, feeling, etc)

Would you prefer to be in another dimension? Do your senses feel dulled?

What’s your stance on mortality and topics tied to that? Do you believe in reincarnation/past lives/fate/destiny/divine intervention/guardian angels/ghosts/heaven & hell/god/meaning of life?

Would you enjoy if others treated you as some highly being and brought you offerings/treated you like a god/submit to you/worked for you?

What’s your stance on the community?

How do you interpret existence - how does it all seem to feel and what do you take away from it, like.. what do you live for? Do you have a sense of some ideal where the more you experience the higher you will achieve? Do you crave something out of life?

Do you have a ‘gut instinct/feeling’ and has it ever been scarily accurate to the point there could be no other possible explanation other than something holy?

Do you believe you are blessed and/or protected by some invisible force?

Where do you believe angels also show themselves? Are they in those stray rays of light of headlights, do they exist in the bite marks of a wounded animal’s form, is it within the ripples of the water, in the breath of the tree that takes in the wine, in the chill upon a high mountain - or is divinity everywhere?

Do you fear people don’t understand you well enough? Don’t understand us? Have you ever felt like doing something about it?

do you feel bored from these questions already - did you enjoy it- would you like more? Did I give you satisfaction? I find joy through writing, it makes me personally feel incredibly divine, and there’s a calling to know more about other individuals in this mystical and extensive world.. we need to stick together - as a whole. Love eachother. Treat yourselves well, too. Do more of what makes you feel fulfilled and happy. There’s so much complexities to life, but we just gotta handle it all with our own minds - but treat your heart and soul with so much kindness and care.. please- take care of yourself. Find whatever works for you and live forever, my friend. My eternal, immortal friend..

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 2 days ago

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Part III

Word count: +3900

Warnings: angst, very slight mentions of past SA, frostbites and some chuchu-muchu😉 (this chapter isn't so bad that it would need any extra warnings, but let me know if you find something that needs to added)

Part II | Part IV

The ceremony and the party afterwards went smoothly, without any remarkable events. Although, after what I had just witnessed, it was my last worry.

Emotions in Kallias' eyes as he watched her walk behind me with the veil in hands, were like a bucket of cold water, shattering any however small hopes I had.

What would be my position at this place? In this Court? How was I supposed to live here? As what? Forgotten wife? Unwanted burden? Obstacle that at some point would need to vanish quietly?

The future full of uncertainties left me feeling hollow. I wanted to cry actually. I should have listened to my father and run away while I could. Life in exile in Autumn Court would be much better than this. The fact that despite everything, Kallias was trying — pretending — made it even worse.

When I arrived at the altar, he gently took my hand and tried to smile happily. As we stood there, listening the priestess, he held me closely, trying to comfort me. After we said our vows and priestess blessed the union, it was time for a kiss and he tried to do it properly. Above all the expectations of the gathered. During the dinner and the following party, he tried converse with me, asking about my childhood, hobbies and even opinions. He went so far as pretending the interest while trying to get to know me.

Every his try was more and more painful. It was like standing in front of a magical mirror that was showing me — torturing me — with imagines of what could have been. How my married life could have looked like, if he didn't have feelings for someone else. It would be much easier, if he just simply despised me from the very beginning than giving me fake hopes. If he drew clear line on the start, I could be sure about my role, I would know how to behave. And most importantly, my heart would stay behind the walls, protected. Where there is no hope, love cannot flourish. Falling in love with Kallias would do me no good — I understood that. Yet if he kept acting this way...

It would be so easy to fall in love with him. On top of being handsome, he really seemed to be a kind person, attentive, intelligent, calm and soft-hearted. Growing up in estate where only so few young males resided and all hated me or completely ignored me, couldn't prepare me for this. I didn't want to end up as all the naive females in novels I read — falling for wrong male just to be handed own broken heart on tray.

Oh, Mother, why had you woven this fate for me? Did I offend you so much by being born?

At some point, the need to shake him got so strong that I had to clench my fingers into chair's armrest. I wanted to tell him to stop pretending when his true feelings were so clear, but I couldn't. Instead I was spiralling and anxiously observing every small change, every slip in his expression.

As we were sitting at the table, conversing, his eyes often wandered to the place where Viviane was seated next to the blond female in elegant red dress who for sure wasn't from this Court. The two of them seemed to have a good time, talking lively and laughing.

Every time he did it, I peaked at Viviane, expecting her to meet his gaze with the similar mixture of emotions. I didn't know why, but I needed that one last push that would completely shatter my hopes. I even prayed for it.

As if sensing it, she always looked up at me, smiling brightly, contently even, at both of us. I watched her closely, analysing her expression to the smallest details, yet I couldn't find any evidence of longing, pain or suppressed feelings, not even in depths of her beautiful eyes. The only tracks of love I found, was love of a good friend, sibling at the best. Instead of being relieved or satisfied, it saddened me and suddenly I felt sorry for him. Was she so blind that she hadn't noticed it yet? Or she just didn't want to acknowledge his feelings?

Last time it happened shortly before we were expected to leave the party and head to the chambers, the tiny lines formed around his lips. His disappointment hurt me more than I cared to admit. Out of sympathy, I gently touched his forearm. He slightly jerked, his eyes wide as he turned to me. For several heartbeats, he stared at me, shocked. Then his expression darkened, an icy mask slid down with loud click. He shook off my hand and moved away from me as far as he could while sitting on his chair. After that he stopped trying to talk with me and ignored me for the rest of the time we spent at party.

Before any emotions got the better of me, I cut them off. Maybe it was better this way.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that High Lord stood up, giving a speech, not until Kallias next to me stood up, too. He was looking down at some unspecified place on the table with a hand ready for me to grab on it. I did what was expected of me. We both did.

My attention shifted to my father. He looked sad, yet he smiled at me. My chest tightened painfully and I blinked away the tears. All of sudden, I had a very strange feeling that this was the last time I could see him. It was so suffocating. And Morena's expression didn't help it. Out of the corner of the eye I noticed her wide grin, the gleam in her eyes made me feel sick. The need to not let him go and to keep him here with me only grew. I felt nauseous, cold sweat rolling down my spine.

"Everything fine?" Kallias asked under his breath. Only then did I notice that I was quite trembling and squeezing his hand so tightly that my knuckles were white. However, I wasn't able to answer. I couldn't even as much as move, all my muscles locked. "You will be able to say goodbye to your family tomorrow before they leave. No need to worry."

The softness of his deep voice and the reassurance took away some of the weight pressing down on my chest and my lungs filled with air. I slowly turned to him. His expression was alert, but beneath it was hidden understanding.

"Thank you," I whispered.

With the final congratulation, High Lord sent us off. As soon as the door closed behind us, Kallias took off down the corridor, leaving me in care of Millie.

"I will show you to your chambers, milady," she bowed and led me in the same direction Kallias went while pointing out rooms we passed to help me navigate around later. "It was High Lord's wish for you to be close to his son, so we prepared the closest suitable premises for you. I hope you will find them comfortable to live in. Unfortunately, no one informed us about your likes and dislikes, so if you find something missing or wish to change anything, just let me know. I will take care of your needs from now on."

"Thank you, Millie. I'm sure you did great job. I'll certainly like it," corners of my mouth curled in a small, polite smile. Because of what she saw before the ceremony I wasn't sure how to behave around her. She must have thought something was wrong with me. With her own smile she tilted her head to the side, looking me over with curiosity. I got nervous. "Is.. something wrong?"

"No, milady," she fully grinned. "I was just thinking that you are different from the other aristocrats and especially, from the young ladies."

"Is it a bad thing?" I frowned, my palms sweating.

"Oh, it's a great thing, milady. You are more like his Highness and his family. It isn't my place to say this, but I think you will get along pretty well with young master."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, pleasantly surprised by Millie's boldness. "I hope so." Being it a different situation, her words would have made me happy. Right now the only thing I knew for sure was, that love was out of question as Kallias' heart already belonged to someone else. Maybe.. maybe someday we could become friends, though. I stored the idea in the back of my mind for the later, focussing on the present.

Climbing the flight of stairs, we got to the highest floor, dimly lit with faelights. Hallways here were wider with a sets of windows on one side. Intrigued, I stopped by one, looking out into the night.

From up here I could see back gardens and castle grounds and also a small part of the city on the other side of gorge. The view was, however, blocked by the wall. When I focussed, I could see seemingly never ending mountain range surrounding the castle and the city, with white dusted peaks that glittered in the moonlight. On one of the closest peaks that was rather a smaller one, I noticed a faint flicker of light.

"Millie? Is there anything up there?"

She stepped closer to see where I was pointing. "It could be the temple, but it's hard to say when it's so dark outside. It should be easier to see it during the day. I'm sure young master will eventually take you there, milady, as it's a place of great importance."

I nodded and followed her. There was only one set of doors in this hallway. Millie opened them and holding them for me, she waited. "These are your chambers, milady."

"And Kallias'?" I looked around in confusion. Didn't she mention that his chambers should be nearby?

"Well, his doors are located in different hallway, but as you will see, you won't need it, milady."

I hesitantly took last few steps and entered the most beautiful sitting room I'd seen in my life. Soft tiny faelights hanging from ceiling in chains like some icicles created play of light and shadow on the snow-white walls, flames roared in the big hearth, sending pleasant waves of warmth into the room. The set of comfortable looking sofas and armchairs occupied most of this space, several half filled wooden bookcases and chests decorated otherwise empty walls. Wooden floor, thick carpet, candles, blankets and pillows added to the overall welcoming comfort of this room.

My curiosity pulled me to the enormous windows that led to the balcony and the fascinating view. In awe I pushed a light lacy curtain aside to take a better look. An entire city on the other side of the gorge laid there like on my palm. I could see as far as to the flickering lights of the first gate and if it wasn't night, certainly even far beyond it.

The city was bigger than I originally thought, scrambling up and down gentle slopes, closed in between jagged peaks. The streets of the city were flooded with warm soft light, white snow making it shine even brighter, the dark windows of houses in sharp contrast with that beauty. My gaze followed those bright narrow veins that connected with each other, creating wide arteries, to the very heart of the town where they opened into a large space with probably the highest spruce tree I'd ever seen in its centre. The square shone with colours. Even from afar I could see long tables with food and people laughing and dancing. It was just as Viviane told me - everyone was out, celebrating. I was so taken by that fairytale like scenery that I didn't notice that Millie left and returned after several minutes.

"Your bath is ready," she said, kind smile lifting corners of her mouth.

"I didn't know there could be something so beautiful as this place. I always thought that the capital is cold, inhospitable city," I confessed.

"Now now," she snorted in amusement. "Wait until you see it decorated for Solstice, milady."

That piqued my interest. The Solstice was the biggest and most important celebration in Winter Court and it was only about a month from now. Even such almost deserted places as my home got excessively decorated with ribbons and glittery decorations, smell of all sorts of cakes, foods and mulled wine filling the air and mixing with smell of pine needles and freshly fallen snow. While I heard that all celebrations were over in just few days in other courts, in Winter it lasted for an entire month. Everyone seemed to be a bit kinder and generous during that time. Maybe that's why I loved it so much.

"There's going to be big celebration. Young master and his friends every year visit the market in the city. This year, they will take you with them too, milady. I'm sure you will like it," Millie continued as I followed her through the bedroom with enormous bed and hearth to the luxurious looking bathroom. Everything was so cosy.

Bathtub full of steaming water immediately drew my attention. It was big enough for at least three persons, dominating to the space. Set of soft towels waited on its edge, several lit floating candles and pink rose petals inviting one to dip in. Air was filled with smell of floral essential oils, soaps and shampoos, steam making it a bit foggy.

Stress, that was building in me ever since morning, finally took its toll and all of sudden I felt too tired to even think, my body so heavy. I couldn't wait to warm up my limbs in the bath and to head to that comfortable bed I saw moments ago. With a knowing smile, Millie helped me to undress and with a sigh I stretched out in the warm water. I was slightly dozing off while Millie took all the pins from my hair, helped me wash and then massaged my shoulders. Unable to even keep my eyes open, I made a mental note to thank her later for her care. After the bath I accepted the soft bathrobe without giving it much thoughts. It didn't even seem strange to me that there was no nightgown prepared.

"Now, everything is ready. Young master is already waiting for you in bedroom, milady," Millie said cunningly and disappeared in a secret servants' passageway before her words got registered by my sleepy mind.

In a second I was wide awake. Kallias was here? Why? And then the realisation hit me and my stomach churned. It couldn't be for real. It just couldn't...

I started to shake wildly and fell to my knees. Unable to keep it together, I wrapped arms around my chest, holding firmly. All the unpleasant memories of my stepbrother touching me floated to the surface and I sobbed. How could I forget? It was an unbreakable tradition and yet I.. I thought it just simply wouldn't happen. There was no way out of this. Whether I wanted or no, it had to happen. Short for air I doubled over, pressing forehead to marble floor. Its cool surface grounded me down and slowly I calmed down enough to think straight. If I couldn't get out of this situation, I had to come up with a way to survive it.

Kallias! That was it. Kallias wasn't Zima. He was kind - everyone said so about him so far. He would treat me with kindness. If.. if he saw that I wasn't ready, he wouldn't push me into things, right?

However crazy it was, I gripped on the belief that Kallias wouldn't treat me badly and held onto it, pushing every bad memory to the back of my mind where I slammed and locked the imaginary door behind it. In my mind I was repeating his name like some mantra, listing every small way in which he treated me kindly. Everything that was different about him. I hadn't thought that there would be a time when his pretence during wedding and party could come so handy, but here I was.

Still trembling I managed to crawl over to the washbasin and dragged myself up. From there it was only a small step to the door that separated me from the bedroom and my ordeal. Taking a deep breath I opened it with a soft click.

Kallias stood with bowed head in front of the hearth clad in the same looking bathrobe, his back to me. Both of his hands were rested on the mantel, clenched into fists, skin on his knuckles so tight that I almost could see bones beneath. His back was painfully straight, shoulders tense. If I wasn't mistaken, he was nervous.

He didn't seem to notice me as his eyes were hypnotising the dancing flames that roared wildly, yet the room was cool almost cold.

Instinctively I checked the windows, tugging the bathrobe closer. All were closed and locked from inside. A lump rose in my throat.

"Ka..llias..?"

He jerked. "Sorry," he mumbled and the room warmed up again. He turn his head in my direction, though he avoided looking at me. "I.."

He sighed. "Sorry," he repeated, this time properly facing me. His eyes darted over me swiftly and then landed on the bed. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath.

It's Kallias. Kallias. He is kind. He is different.

I desperately held on my mantra as my bottom lip quivered.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, staying like that for awhile.

"Are you cold?" His voice was once again soft, caring. "Come closer and warm up. Your father mentioned that you easily get cold. It's quite rare for someone from the Winter Court, isn't it?"

"Yes." When did he make time to talk with my father? I managed to walk over the room without stumbling, but I was so nervous and scared that I was short for breath, heaving as if I had run a round around the castle before stopping next to him. His brows furrowed, his lips twisted in compassion. "I think I took that after my mother."

"Ah, the lady from Autumn Court, right? I can imagine that the weather here was harsh for someone with fire in veins."

I expected to hear scornfulness in his voice when he spoke about my mother, just as I heard it in voices of everyone except my father, but there was nothing. He said it calmly, casually, almost sorrowfully, as if it was the most natural thing. I was so surprised that I only nodded.

"Then I will have to make sure you are always warm," he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

The uncomfortable silence settled between us. I didn't dare to look at him even though I would give anything to know what he was thinking at, how he felt. Despite being so close to the fire, cold sweat rolled down my spine, my imagination running wild and in absolutely wrong direction.

It's Kallias. He's kind. He won't-

His hand hesitantly touched mine and when I didn't pull away, he entwined his long fingers with mine. His frosty pale skin was soft to touch and cool. Though it didn't cause me pain like-..

It's Kallias. He's different.

I pushed any other thoughts away. It was already hard enough as I could hardly even as much as breathe.

I heard him swallow hard before his other hand reached up, taking my chin between thumb and forefinger. He was so tender when he tilted my face towards him. The way he touched me - it was definitely different. There was nothing violent about it, nothing rough or demanding, yet I played my mantra on repeat.

He leaned closer and..

Stopped.

He was waiting for me, I realized.

Heart hammering in my chest, I risked a glance at him. His crushing blue eyes were already on me, searching. His striking beauty took the last bits of air from my lungs. He looked somehow sad, torment in depths of his eyes. However, the second our gazes collided, he transformed his expression into unreadable mask, locking away anything he felt. If he really loved Viviane so much, this couldn't be anything but unpleasant duty to him. He didn't want to do this — that much was clearly written all over his face just a moment ago — yet he was trying to turn it into a pleasant experience for me.

He gave me last few seconds to prepare before he carefully pressed his lips to mine. His eyes shut closed, brows furrowed - was he imagining that he was holding her? He stilled for few heartbeats and then slightly opened his mouth, tip of his tongue lightly touched my bottom lip before he delivered another kiss. This reminded me of the wedding ceremony. Back then he did exactly the same thing.

He wasn't in hurry, his soft lips lazily dancing over mine, every stroke deeper than the previous one. His fingers moved from my chin to my cheek, cupping it, thumb drawing small circles on my skin. It was.. actually quite pleasant, soothing. However, I needed to keep my eyes open, because the second I closed them, flashes of those events twisted the reality into something else. My mantra wasn't working as efficiently here as I hoped, but seeing his face made it little better.

Kallias changed the angle, tugging me closer by the waist, adjusting his position, his body now flush against mine. That was when the things started to change. Temperature in the room again dropped so slightly and shiver ran down my spine. His other hand, now cold like ice, moved to my neck, his touch still light and tender, yet the pain marked the trace of his fingers, until they slipped into my hair. His lips grazed over my jaw and down the column of my neck to my shoulder, leaving small kisses on his way, every one of them followed by explosions of sharp pain. When he reached the collarbone, the pain was so insufferable that I cried out.

Kallias immediately stopped, his eyes shooting up to my face.

"Wha-"

When he noticed red and purple marks on my skin, his eyes widened in shock and he released me, backing away.

"That's nothing," I covered the worst of them with bathrobe, quickly wiping tears away.

"Nothing?" he whispered "How..? Why..? You are covered in frostbites." Kallias was short for words. He looked down at his hands in disbelieve. "Have I done that?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Only moments ago, he was so kind and attentive, even though he didn't want to do this. Another male in his position wouldn't give a shit. I couldn't possibly tell him that his powers were responsible for that, nor I couldn't lie to him.

Shaking his head, he was retreating, his skin paler than freshly fallen snow. He ran hand through his hair and then dragged it down his face. He was shaken.

"I-.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. I'm so sorry."

He pivoted and hurried to the tall mirror in the corner of the room. It took just a light touch from him and the glass melted away, opening an entrance to a narrow corridor covered in ice and snow. Gust of cold wind brought several snowflakes into the room and I had to turn away, protecting my face. Prince of Winter rushed down that corridor, unaffected by cold. He didn't look back even when I called after him, eager to somehow explain the situation. Before I reached the mirror, glass was back on its place and Kallias was gone.

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