Tumgik
#and even when you go through all this rancidity and the love has almost evaporated down to bare bones politeness
topnotchquark · 2 months
Text
Nico saying that Lewis gives his daughters boxes of presents every Christmas just got caught in my mind.
Imagine you were a mixed race boy born in Hertfordshire, different from everyone else around you. Bullied in school, being raised by your father to compete in a sport where money is very much of essence and you and your family do not have a lot of it. And then you meet this other boy who comes from the kind of life you dream to live one day. You're friends and fierce competitors. You find solace in each other. You visit Monaco for the first time with your friend, dreaming up the life you will have when you make it, when you beat out of the mould that the world thought it could capture you in.
And then you two grow through the ranks and you're at the pinnacle of your sport and you have what it takes to win and the world recognises that you can win. And you win. You win with your friend and fiercest competitor by your side fighting with you for those wins, and this fighting ruins something something that was valuable to both of you when you were still innocent and unsullied by life.
But despite everything that went into the doing and undoing of this relationship, you still realise that this person you once called a friend has a life and family beyond your bitter dynamic. He has children, and children need love and affection and good memories. And you're a better man now so you understand that. So you make sure the kids get gifts on Christmas. And you make sure of it every year. Afterall, if you met someone you loved deeply when you were both kids, wouldn't you feel a pang of nostalgia when they had kids. Wouldn't you try to extend the warmth that you couldn't find for your friend to his children. Afterall, whatever happens during childhood basically remains with you forever.
787 notes · View notes
headfulloffantasies · 4 years
Text
Playing with Magic
For @bearholdingashark for the wondertrev gift exchange! Merry Christmas.
Diana and Steve run into Circe. The sorceress has devious plans for Steve.
Ao3 link
“If you ever see my Aunt Circe, run the other way,” Diana said over a candlelit dinner. 
Steve paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Beg pardon?”
Diana waved a hand, “She’s not really my Aunt, but calling her that annoys her, so…”
Steve glanced around the crowded Italian restaurant. No one seemed to have noticed their conversation. He leaned across the table. “But Circe? Like the magician?”
“Sorceress,” Diana nodded, twirling her fork through her pasta. “She has sworn a blood oath against me. I expect that if she knows about you, she may try something devious.”
“Okay,” Steve gulped. Since returning to the land of the living he’d been rolling with the punches almost every day. Diana had lived a full life without him. She tended to drop random tidbits about her experiences into everyday conversations. 
He took another bite of lasagna. “So, sorceress? What does she do?”
Diana grimaced, “She worships the goddess Hecate. There is a prophesy that Hecate will be reborn, and Circe believes I will be Hecate’s vessel. It has been… a source of conflict.” She sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it. Just remember her name. She’s dangerous.”
Steve reached across the table and took Diana’s hand. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”
Diana glanced at her mostly finished plate. “Yes, please.”
Steve got the waiter’s attention and paid for their meal. Diana wrapped herself in a long wool coat and took Steve’s arm. 
He led her out of the romantic lighting of the restaurant and into the chilly wind. Darkness fell early when the sun vanished behind city skyscrapers. Steve pulled Diana closer as they walked down the street. His breath fogged in front of him. 
They turned down a side street, heading uptown to their apartment. They slid around the back of a block of office buildings. The brick walls closed in on both sides, protecting them from the wind. Overhead, the streetlight suddenly went out with a pop. A shiver ran down Steve’s spine. His hand tightened around Diana’s arm. 
“Steve-,” Diana broke off. 
A cackle startled both of them. It echoed up the walls around them, rising into a shrieking wail. Diana shoved Steve behind her, backing him into the rough brick wall. Steve cast eyes around wildly for the source of the laughter. 
“Diana, darling,” an invisible voice purred. It sounded like it had exhaled from the bricks behind Steve. “Who is your little friend?”
“Circe,” Diana hissed. “Show yourself!” She unleashed her lasso from the hidden depths of her coat. It’s glow filled the street, illuminating the figure standing between two buildings. The stranger stepped closer, revealing a tall woman wearing a green sheath of a dress. Gold jewelry dripped from her neck and wrists. Her eyes glittered even in the dark. 
“Diana,” Circe tossed russet curls over her bare shoulder. 
“Aunty,” Diana sneered.
Circe’s face twisted into a snarl. “Your time has come, Amazon.”
Diana didn’t wait for Circe to make the first move. Her lasso lashed out, arching at the sorceress. Circe lazily raised a hand and deflected the blow. The lasso clanged of one of the many bangles on Circe’s wrist. 
Diana charged. Circe laughed, crouching to intercept Diana. Diana crashed into her. The sorceress dissolved into purple smoke. Steve blinked in surprise. She’d vanished! He swiveled, searching desperately for the villain. 
“Next time, darling,” Circe’s voice cackled invisibly.
A shadow fell over them. Steve looked up and ducked. A griffin, with the head of a lion and the wings of an eagle, swooped down between the buildings. Its talons snatched Diana around the waist and lifted her off her feet. 
“Diana!” Steve grabbed for her hand and missed. The griffin flapped its golden wings, knocking Steve down. It rocketed up into the sky, Diana in its clutches. Steve made to chase, but a cloud of noxious purple smoke burst around him. Steve choked on rancid cloves. He threw his hands over his face. 
The smoke intensified from a cloud into a burning light. Steve shouted. The world spun around and around. Everything shot up, growing a hundred times its size. Steve’s bones cracked. His spine rippled. A nauseating shift of his stomach lurched all his organs dizzyingly. He tried to scream, but nothing came out. 
He flopped on the sidewalk, breathless as the violet cloud dissipated. His heart raced. Nothing felt right. He was going to be sick.
A net of acid violet rope fell over him.
Steve tried to yell. A strangled croak warbled from his throat.
The air rippled like a curtain parting and Circe stepped out. She reached out and tied up the ends of the net. “Steve Trevor. You make a lovely little pet.”
Steve struggled. His body felt wrong. He twisted his neck to look down at himself. 
Oh hell no. Feathers. He had sprouted feathers. And wings. 
“What a beautiful little bird,” Circe crooned. “You know, I think I was mesmerized by your eyes. Your feathers are the same shade of blue.”
Steve’s tongue would not cooperate with his mind. He tried to say “You’re a crazy evil witch”, but what came out was “Witch”. 
Circe laughed. “Indeed, my parrot friend.” She scooped up the net, sending Steve tumbling. “Let’s be off. Diana won’t be far behind.” The cloud of purple surrounded Steve again. 
When it vanished, they were no longer in the street. A lavish garden, rolling with green fig trees, lush ferns, and an array of flowers greeted Steve. For a second he blinked in the sudden midday sun. Circe moved, jostling the net again. Steve flailed indignant wings. Circe skipped over to a particularly large mossy rock carved in the shape of a throne. She threw herself down, tossing Steve at her feet. He landed in a heap, hopelessly tangled in the net. 
Steve tried to protest, a squawk tearing from his throat. 
Circe threw back her head and laughed as if he’d made some hilarious joke. “Precious, come here,” she leaned down and waved her hand. The net evaporated. Steve strained his wings, visions of flight and escape running through his mind. He wobbled, uncoordinated. Circe’s hands caught him, pinning his wings to his sides. He cawed and tried to peck her. 
Circe tsked. “Behave little parrot, or I’ll turn you into a pig.” 
“Oink,” Steve managed to snap.
Circe giggled. “I see why Diana likes you.” She leaned back on her throne, petting one hand over Steve’s head. “Do you like my tropical paradise? It’s not real, you know. All illusions. This is really some abandoned theatre I stumbled across. The irony of disguising the stage was too good to pass up.”
Circe stroked one dagger sharp fingernail over Steve’s throat. His feathers ruffled in annoyance. 
“Diana will come find you. She’ll walk right into my trap for you.” Circe lifted Steve to eye level. “Because Diana believes in love,” she spat. “She thinks you pathetic humans are worth her heart. You’re not.” She gave Steve a shake. His brain rattled in his tiny skull. “You’re no better than animals.” 
Circe suddenly let go. Steve freefell into her lap and bounced onto the floor. He flapped and flopped upright.
He turned one glaring eye on Circe. He wanted to tirade against her. Yell, scream, rant. Diana wasn’t wong. Humanity didn’t deserve Wonder Woman, but it wasn’t about deserving. She chose to help those who couldn’t help themselves. That made her better than all of them. She could have abandoned humanity. She almost had, after Steve’s death. Persevering, doing the right thing, made his sacrifice worth something. She’d made him proud. 
Steve’s feathers puffed. If he had his voice, he’d tear Circe a new one. He cocked his head. “Hero.”
Circe stiffened.
“She is, isn’t she?” Circe said so quietly Steve almost missed it. 
The garden all around them was silent. Even the breeze that occasionally ruffled the ferns didn’t whisper in Steve’s ear.
The shimmering blue sky suddenly shattered into pieces of topaz raining down. Diana fell through the opening, landing in the center of the tropical garden. She’d shed her evening gown and wool coat for her armor and diadem. The lasso at her hip glowed in the sunlight.
Circe screeched, leaping to her feet. “You found me at last, princess.”
“Give me Steve Trevor, Aunty.” Diana advanced slowly, a menacing slink in her step.
Circe snapped her fingers. Steve gasped as chains snaked over his body, pinning him in place at the foot of the throne.
“Do you like the improvements I made to your little friend?” Circe laughed. “He already follows your every move, now he can really parrot you. You might not even notice the difference.”
“Change him back,” Diana demanded. 
“Make me,” Circe growled.
The lasso arced overhead. Circe dodged and deflected its spinning lashes. She struck out, a wave of violet fire racing across the ground. Diana leapt, sidestepping the attack. Burning foliage smoked in the space between them.
Steve cawed, anxiety tearing his chest to ribbons. His struggles against the bonds only made them cling tighter. 
Diana snapped the lasso. A glowing blow flashed across Circe’s cheek like the lash of a whip. Circe shouted. She stumbled and fell at the base of her throne. Her razor nails touched the red welt on her face. It had already begun to fade. 
“Give up, Circe,” Diana towered over her. 
“Never,” Circe struggled to her feet. Bolts of violet energy engulfed her hands. Crackles of light lanced from her fingertips. Circe lifted her hands over her head. Diana braced for impact. Circe brought her hands down. A flash brighter than the sun erupted in a thunderclap. 
Steve’s vision swam. When he blinked the negative away Circe was gone. The lush garden faded, leaving a grey stage. Ragged theatre seats lined up at Diana’s back. Where the throne had sat, a shredded curtain hung limp and dusty.
“Distractions and illusions, Aunty. Will we never learn?” Diana muttered. Her shoulders slumped. 
“Diana,” Steve croaked. 
She turned, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Steve,” she dropped to her knees, gently pulling at the chains. He held still as the bonds crumbled in her hands like peanut shells.
“Are you alright?” 
Steve gave her a look that said “I’m a bird, how alright can I be?” Possibly it didn’t convey the same thing with a beak, as Diana sighed in relief. 
“I am glad you are unharmed.”
Unharmed? Steve flapped his wings indignantly. “Bird,” he croaked.
“Yes, I can help,” Diana stood. She unwrapped her lasso from her belt. She leaned down to Steve and hesitated. “This will hurt. Are you sure?”
“Bird,” Steve snapped. 
Diana nodded. She gently wrapped a coil of the lasso around Steve’s middle. She straightened, grasping her end of the glowing coil with both hands. 
The lasso burned.
“Remember who you are,” Diana commanded. 
Fire raced through Steve’s bones. His joints ground against each other. He squeezed his eyes shut as everything spun. His insides heaved and his skull groaned. Then it was over. Steve opened his eyes. His hands splayed over grey floorboards. He tried wiggling his fingers. The ten fingers in his field of view wiggled back. A relieved laugh escaped in a huff. 
Diana dropped to her knees beside him and crushed him in a hug. He circled his arms around her, incredibly aware of the difference between arms and wings.
“No bird jokes,” he said as Diana helped him to his feet.
“Not even one?” She circled an arm around his waist.
“No,” they stepped off the stage and made their way down the aisle between theatre seats.
“Just a little one? One wing joke,” Diana opened the front door.
Steve started at the drifting snowflakes blowing through the empty street. “No.”
“Someone’s feathers are ruffled.”
“Stop.” 
Diana’s fingers laced through Steve’s. They walked hand in hand all the way home.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Steve said as they reached their apartment building. 
“Anytime,” Diana squeezed his hand.
19 notes · View notes