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sidemenxyn · 7 months

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Fellas podcast

Calfreezy x Y/n (afab) (reader grew up with Ethan and reader is apart of the sidemen)

Tw: mentions of drinking, language, mentions of inappropriate drugs (weed), you all being a bunch of hooligans, mentions of harassment,

Y/n is normal text, Chip is bold, Calfreezy is italic and Proddy is bold and italic

–—–

“Welcome back to the fellas podcast, hope you are comfy and ready to listen to some juicy gossip. as today me and Chip will be talking my one and only girlfriend!” Calfreezy presents.

You smiled and waved towards the many cameras in front of you “hey, guys!” Chip firstly asked “would you like a beverage? Y/n?” You smiled “eh, yeah please.” Cal asked “do you want a Stella or some gin?” You asked “you have gin? If so then yes please.” He nodded and started pouring you a drink.

Chip spoke “Y/n can you do a little introduction on yourself, for those who may not know you.” You smiled “of course, I’m Y/n, you may know me from either the sidemen or being with Cal. I’m a YouTuber and streamer.” The boys nodded. Chip announced “todays podcast we decided to shake things up a little. As we have asked some fans on your instagram account what they’d like to know about you and us.” You nodded.

Cal was handed the phone and quickly scrolled for a question. He read “ok, how did Y/n become a sidewoman?” You answered “so I grew up with Ethan, his mum and my mum also grew up together. I supported him into doing YouTube and then I met all the boys and they thought I’d be a good person to add to the group. So yeah! Grew up with behz.” Chip asked “does both mothers stay in contact?” You nodded “yeah, I mean they support each other through every step in their lives. That’s why I truly believe that if you find the right friend they can grow old with you.” The two boys nodded.

It was now Chip’s turn, he asked “this is for Y/n, what’s it like going on a lads holiday?.” You smiled already thinking about the memories “it’s amazing, sometimes I even forget I’m the only girl if it’s a sidemen holiday or just a ‘lads holiday’. Like most girls probably wouldn’t even think of being the only girl. But because I grew up with you all I’m able to say ‘fuck it’ and go on a lads holiday.” Cal chirped in “yeah, even before we dated it was as if you were ‘one of the lads’ like sometimes me and Harry would be doing drinking challenges or shot together and by the end of the night we’d all be shit faced.” You gasped “oh I have a story! From a lads holiday.” Everyone chuckled at the way you seemed to be so happy to tell your story.

“Right, so this was in Mykonos back in like 2019. So we were all out clubbing as usual, this night I wore my first like nice dress. Cause you know me I’m not the one to wear dresses casually or anything. So anyways, I was dancing and I could feel someone behind me right? So I moved out the way thinking they wanted to pass by, but the placed a hand on my hip.” “What?!” “No way” “yeah! So I looked around and saw Ethan and Tobi at the bar, so I headed over there. And the guy followed me. Cause he stood next to me by the bar. Ethan saw I was a bit annoyed and taken back so he asked ‘you alright?’ And I tilted my head towards the guy and mouthed ‘creep’. So you know Ethan he became protective.” “Oh god!” “As he should” “so he asked like ‘are you with her’ to see what he’d say and of course he said ‘yeah, she’s my girl’.” “Ew what the fuck!” “Nah that’s actually vile!”

“Yeah! Anyways, so cause you all know I don’t take shit from no one so I said ‘no I’m not, I don’t even fucking know you.’ Then he got a bit angry and Ethan said ‘mate she’s with me so if your bothering her, leave her alone’ and then I felt his hand on my waist again so I shoved his hand off and told him ‘get the fuck off of me’ and then out of no wear he slapped me in the face!” “Fuck off, he didn’t?” “Shit really?” You nodded “yeah, so you know what I did?” “What?” “Are we gonna have a girl boss moment?” You smirked and nodded “yeah, I fucking punched him in the face then kicked him in the crouch.” The boys mouths dropped to the floor, shocked by your reply. You continued “yeah, then he tried slapping my me but Ethan managed to stop it and Tobi pulled me away.” The boys were gobsmacked. “Mad right?” “Yeah!” “What happened after that?” “Me and Tobi went back to the hotel cause I don’t know why that guys hand was so heavy but it made my nose bleed. So we went back cause Tobi didn’t want to stay long as it was quite far into the night, well early morning. So we chilled at the hotel.”

After your story, Cal picked up the phone again “right! This person wants to know how Y/n and myself got together.” You smiled “Cal do you wanna tell your side?” He nodded “well, right, so basically as you know I’m close friends with Ethan so that meant I’m also close friends with Y/n. Like she came withe the package sorta deal. But we got along really well, and after moving out of the second house me and Bog offered her to move in with Harry, Lux and I. And obviously she said yes and then I grew feeling for her, in 2018 we went on our first date and then things escalated and now we are dating.” You smiled and said “yeah, so when I moved in a had down the same thing, the longer I stayed the more I grew closer to Cal and grew more feelings. Before we were even dating I’d say like a few months before dating we’d do the like kissing on the forehead and a hug. Like yeah I’d hug all the boys but these were the hugs like you’d do with your partner. We’d also like do what we’d loosely call ‘dates’ where if Harry and Lux were out I’d make him wear face masks and we’d cuddle and watch a movie type of thing.” Chip said “so what did all the boys think of it all?” You answered “honestly I’m pretty sure Harry and Lux had placed bets on who’s ask out who and what month we’d end up dating.” Chip and the boys were laughing. Cal mentioned “pretty sure Harry won too! Like only for the asking who out though.” You laughed.

Proddy asked “are you two living together now still?” You nodded and Cal spoke “yeah, it’s still Y/n, Harry and myself.” You giggled “Harry is like our non-biological child. He’s always pointing out that he’s a third wheel constantly, but he’ll deny moving out so.. yeah.” You all had a laugh.

Chip read “Do Y/n and Cal have any plans about having babies and if so how many?” You smiled “yes, just not yet.” Cal nodded “yeah, we’ve agreed either two or three. Depends on how Y/n feels.” Chip awed at the small comment. Proddy asked “what gender do you wish the children would be?” Cal spoke first “I honestly wouldn’t mind as long as they have a close bond and look out for each other. Also if I have a girl I want them to be like Y/n when their older, like they’re able to defend for themselves if needed. Like I’d like them to have someone there for them but like..” “like if they need to they can fight back or speak their mind.” “Yeah exactly.” “Yeah, I’d personally would like to to be boy, girl then boy. But I too honestly couldn’t care for gender like I grew up with what? Four brothers. That’s how I learnt to fend for myself. Bro the amount of batery I’ve been through.” You all laugh “like it was play fighting obviously but the constant need to know what I was doing. Like Eli the middle brother, constantly knocking on my door just wanting to chill or like Jack my youngest brother. He constantly wanted to go out in my car and get maccies.” “I can vouch for Y/n, her household is never quiet. Like bro when we’d go visit, or even for the holidays. Cause we were dating especially from Jack Y/n would just always got the ‘YouTube couple, omg I ship!’.” You were laughing constantly at the memories, Cal was the best with your brothers it was as if they’d known him their whole lives.

Chip had the phone in his hand and asked “when do you think Cal and Y/n will get married?” You smirked “soon I hope!” Cal smiled “yeah soon, waiting for the perfect time.” Chip said “who’s your best men and bridesmaids gonna be?” The boys looked at your first “well, obviously Faith I grew up with her she’ll probably be my maid of honour. Then it will be Talia, Y/f/n, Y/f/n and Freya.” The boys listened as you said everyone’s names then Cal spoke “I’ll, have Chip, Harry, uh Ethan, Lux.”

You asked “can I pick a question??” The boys nodded and Chip handed the phone over to you. As you scrolled one caught your eye “any drama from when you’d used to go to school? Like drama you were involved in?” you and the boys got excited to explain your stories. Chip spoke “Y/n you look like you’ve got a bunch.” You laughed “I very much do, me and Faith were the ones who knew everyone’s drama!” You added “ok what do you want to know?” Proddy asked “everything!” “I’ve heard some of them and they are wild!!” “Oh lord we are in for a good one!” You clears your throat “ok, firstly I want to say I won’t be using their real names, I’ll use fruit as their names” you chuckled “ok, so let’s say? Strawberry right, strawberry was the same age as me and we were 15 when this happened it was the thing of the year. Well she got pregnant but didn’t know who the dad was!” “No way?!?” “Omg!!”. You added “also this girl orange, well orange and I had a fight! Like full of fist fight!” “Who won?” “Me, not being full of myself but she did not stand a chance!” “Was that when you were professionally boxing?” “You did boxing?” “Yeah, I still do! Grew up on the sport.” “Trust me you don’t want to mess with her!” Chip asked “what happened after?” “Well, she tried going for another round, like this time I just knew she would try ragging on my hair cause she did it last time. So I just put her in a head lock.” “A proper head lock?” “Nah just one so she could get me as much cause I knew I’d probably get kicked out if I did do a proper head lock.”

You listen to the rest of the stories the boys told you and the listeners. After a while it was the end of the podcast, you sign off “thank you for listen to our stories and gossip, if you enjoyed make sure to follow and share. Have a good day!”

Later that day, Cal was on his computer as you laid in your shears bed. Huddled up on the bed wearing his hoodie and your favourite type of joggers aka Callum’s joggers.

You turned over facing him as he sat at his desk, you asked “how long will you be?” He turned to you “just finishing this bit and I’m done.” You smiled as he finished up whatever he seemed to be doing on the computer. Once he turn off his computer screen, he crawled into bed with you and pulled you into him. He turned the tv on as you snuggled into your loving boyfriend. Cal asked “what we watching love?” You hummed “maybe we could watch the new Brassic?” He smiled “yeah, I enjoyed that.” You commented “yeah, honestly the boys remind me of brassic besides the crime and weed.” “Yeah I get you like the personalities.” “Yeah!” So that was the plan. You two cuddled together and watched Brassic all night long. Later after you were done watching the show you both went to sleep holding each other closely.

–—–

If you’d like to see more you can follow or heart my posts if you’d like! If you’d like me to crest something you’d like me to write then ask away! I’m more than happy to make stories you guys ask me! So if you’d like ask and hopefully I can get it up quick for you guys to read! Have a good day/night! 🫶

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symeona · 1 year

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hi, i love the classics talk :D even tho i know nothing about it tbh.. but i saw the ask about hera and ares and i just can't not ask about apollo, i don't know much about him but always liked him the best. Also have you read books by stephen fry?

Okokok lemme take a slow breath in cause I love that you like Apollo okok

So, Apollo was born on Delos.

Delos is one of the three islands that belong to the municipality of Mykonos, currently. I was born and raised on Mykonos. I grew up inside a museum filled with the history of Apollo and Artemis so BE STILL MY HEART

I will now branch off and talk about Paean, not Apollo.

Pronounced like pe from Pepsi and Anne the name, pe-Anne.

There are slight differences but, basically Apollo is the name of the God for the northern parts of Greece. For the south, the islands and Crete, his name is Paean. And he's closely tied with medicine and prophecy (put down your red balls)

What's interesting is that Paean was definitely worshipped in the Mycenean times. In fact, legend has it that the priests that worshipped Paean on Crete were carried by him (he transformed into a big dolphin) to Delphi and that's when the oracle religion was formed.

Paean was not only associated with medicine but with disease as well, and his arrows were said to cause plagues. In the Odyssey, Homer describes Egypt as this very culturally advanced place. Where people are educated and every second person there works miracles with medicine. And then calls them "Paean's people". (So the next time I see a blond Apollo I WILL commit murder)

I think looking into Paean will be very interesting to you, I don't have specific sources because I grew up around these stories. I know them by heart, but everything I have is in Greek. It's easy to find things on him though, now that you know Paean is Apollo.

Another interesting thing about him is that Leto, his mom, was worshipped in Asia Minor. She is a deity with Lydian ties, and is associated with prophecy, omens and protection songs. In fact, that's where the origin of him being the god of music comes from.

People would sing these songs to either purify themselves or thank him for protecting them from evil or disease. (Later the Romans fucked that up and started singing those same songs when they won battles But that's The freaking Romans™ for you)

There's also ties to Shiva and Rudra, buuut I have to look that one up again, cause I don't remember what I've read. I only know I wasn't surprised since much if the story of prehistoric Greece is just "many people migrated from West and Central Asia and then stayed there, got high and had a time"

And with that I'll skip taking about ancient Greece for another half year hxjdndh I got it out of my system thank you

#apollo #ask

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billionaireclubmiami1 · 10 months

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shoptrendthingss · 2 years

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The Complete Guide to Patmos island

Little in size and extraordinary mykonos villas as a late spring location, Patmos is one of the most lovely of the Dodecanese islands.

Prepped and flawless, all white, similar to any veritable jewel of the Aegean ocean, with a mystagogical, refined air yet additionally a modern cosmopolitan emanation, Patmos or in any case 'the island of the Apocalypse,' since there, as per Christian custom, the darling pupil of Christ, the evangelist holy person John, heard the voice of God, stands apart for its strict legacy.

Similarly exceptional, be that as it may, are the overly complex cobblestone roads, the cobbled squares, the customary chateaus, the translucent sea shores, and the great food, which make Patmos a top vacationer location.

Here is a thorough manual for the island of Patmos to capitalize on your visit in this enchanted objective.

The historical backdrop of Patmos Island

As indicated by Greek folklore, Patmos was under the security of the goddess Artemis, which is the reason Artemis and Apollo were adored there.

Albeit broad archeological unearthings have not been done, it is sure that at the site of the Patmos religious community of Saint John, there was an old Greek sanctuary of Patmia Artemis, as confirmed by pertinent engravings and the enduring segments.

In Kasteli, there are archeological hints of a city from the fourth century BC. While there are signs that there were old settlements in different pieces of the island.

Because of its rough development and the infertility of its landscape, Patmos was utilized as a position of exile by both the Romans and the Byzantines. It was likewise utilized as an asylum and base for Arab privateers who took advantage of its various protected narrows.

Patmos obtained its ongoing brilliance from when the Evangelist John the scholar was banished from Ephesus during the realm of Domitian. Segregated in the Cave of the Apocalypse as it is known today, John composed the roused book of the Apocalypse.

14-Day Family Trip to Athens, Nafplio, Mani, and Kythira Every one of the customs encompassing the darling supporter of Christ affirm that Christianity won right off the bat on the island, as proven by hints of early Christian sanctuaries and items.

The foundation of the cloister of Saint John the Theologian denoted the introduction of a social otherworldly strict focus, which is a perspective for the whole Christian world. After the fourth campaign, Patmos came to the Venetians in 1207.

Starting from the groundwork of the cloister, the island has seen consistent success. From the sixteenth century onwards, extreme scholarly and financial movement spread external the cloister palace, where a flourishing local area created.

Commanders, shippers, and experts constructed their chateaus and chose the submerged island of Patmos, filling it with products from the East and west.

The extraordinary financial development was joined by a relating scholarly development and incredible development in human expression, painting, handiworks, and writing.

Like such countless spots in Greece, particularly the Greek islands, the most gorgeous season and best opportunity to visit Patmos is throughout the late spring. Without a doubt, the island is best investigated under brilliant daylight and high temperatures.

Between the long periods of late May and early October, there are warm waters for swimming and splendid sun for tanning, while all eating and amusement foundations are open, and the island's vacationer framework is at full power.

Obviously, the pinnacle season a long time of July and August are the most active for the island of Patmos and, subsequently, can be overpowering for the people who need to stay away from the traveler groups and need to encounter a unique, valid side of this supernatural objective.

Thusly, contingent upon your inclination, late-spring might be the most appropriate season to go to Patmos on the off chance that travelers aren't exactly your thing.

How might I arrive at Patmos from Athens and other Greek islands? greek felines Katho Menden shutterstock compressedGreek island tasteful - credits: _Katho_Menden/Shutterstock.com

In contrast to the adjoining islands of Samos, Leros, Kos, and Kalymnos, Patmos doesn't have an air terminal, so you can't travel to the island.

On the positive side, the island is consistently adjusted by ships over time, particularly in the late spring. As a matter of fact, Patmos port is associated by a ship line with the Greek islands of Agathonissi, Mykonos, Paros, Samos, Syros, Leros, Naxos, Arkoi, Lipsi, Symi, and Rhodes.

Thus, you can arrive at the little island of Patmos from this multitude of districts notwithstanding Athens, which makes it ideal for being a piece of a Greek island-bouncing experience.

Patmos Town or Chora is totally not the same as anything you are utilized to on the Greek islands and the Aegean. It is situated in the south-focal piece of Patmos a ways off of 4 km. from the port of Skala and is the second biggest settlement on the island.

Chora is, truth be told, the island's capital with 541 extremely durable inhabitants and has been proclaimed an UNESCO World Heritage Site starting around 1999. Worked around the Castle safeguards the Holy Monastery of St John the Theologian, which adds to its appeal.

The reasons that constrained the priests to construct such areas of strength for an are clear as the Monastery was established and thrived in truly challenging times. Privateers and different champions of the Aegean ocean looked at its profound and not just fortunes.

Around the mass of the Monastery, the Country of Patmos gradually created throughout the years. There are old great chateaus yet in addition more modest whitewashed houses. Yet, they all have similar normal attributes. Their structural components are as one with the sacrosanct space they are contiguous.

These days, the greater part of the places of the Chora have been reestablished concerning custom. The trademark highlight in the design of the customary houses in Patmos is the high corbel walls that are combined and give the picture of stronghold.

Among the limited and twisting rear entryways of Chora, the notable cobblestone of 1794 sticks out, which associates it to the island's port and was the primary street before.

The attractions of Chora likewise incorporate the place of Emmanuel Xanthos, the Folklore Museum housed in a customary house, and the seventeenth century chateau Semantiri.

The Town of Patmos has safeguarded its conventional person, having a special environment of quietness and serenity. It is thought of as by a larger number of people - not without reason - to be the most lovely town on the Aegean.

Skala Port Patmos skala en.wikipedia.orgSkala port - credits: en.wikipedia.org

Skala is the fundamental port and the focal point of Patmos. Every single public help and the majority of the island's shops are situated here.

From that point, guests can begin their voyages through every one of the areas, attractions, and wonderful sea shores of the island of Patmos.

Notwithstanding the fundamental port, you will track down a delightful ocean side, the new present day Marina, and the vast majority of the bistros, eateries, bars, and bars of the island, all concentrated inside relatively close to one another. You will likewise track down the parts of two neighborhood banks.

Pano and Kato Kampos patmos greece pixabayPatmos, Greece - credits: pixabay.com

Kampos is one of the four significant settlements of Patmos. Pano Kampos is a capital town that reaches out on low slopes. While Kato Kampos is the settlement that creates around the ocean side of Kampos.

Kampos is the intersection for a few areas of Patmos. From the focal square of Kampos, each street prompts the ocean side of similar name and a few of the island's best sea shores.

Simultaneously, Kampos grandstands a less touristically created side of Patmos, which is very untainted and doesn't have anything to begrudge from the cosmopolitan piece of the island.

Grikos Grikos is the fourth biggest settlement of Patmos. A wonderful fishing town has quickly formed into a traveler settlement. The progressions that happen a large number of years in Groikos are noteworthy.

Grikos has a little marina for boats, lavish lodgings, a decent ocean side, shops around the ocean, and is extremely near the lovely area of Petra.

The sea shores of Patmos island

Petra is a coordinated ocean side with white stones and perfectly clear waters. It is situated close to the tight piece of land that joins the "rock of Kalikatsou" to the central area.

Aside from its sheer excellence guests of Petra ocean side will have the potential chance to appreciate water sports and bars loaded with delightful nearby dishes.

Agriolivado Agriolivado is a sandy ocean side with tamarisk trees, ocean side bar bars, and water sports. It is found only 4 kilometers upper east of Skala ocean side and neglects the islet of Agia Thekla, which can visited by line.

Agios Theologos

Offering a more natural scene, Agios Theologos is a disorderly ocean side that you will track down in the cove of Skala.

It merits visiting this odd ocean side since it is close to the bars and bistros of the area, so it is particularly advantageous assuming that you're visiting Patmos with your loved ones.

Vagia Votsoloti The ocean side of Vagia Votsoloti is mykonos villas found soon after Kampos and is one of the calmest on the island. Thich conceal, completely clear blue waters, and a little bistro at the highest point of its brook make it a wonderful objective for a laid-back vibe.

#mykonos villas

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mykonosconcierge · 5 years

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#mykonos bodyguards #mykonos close protection #bodyguards mykonos #protection services mykonos #personal bodyguard mykonos #mykonos security services #vip services mykonos #mykonos bodyguard

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta

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dclsbaby · 3 years

Text

mykonos-crossed lovers (part i) 🦋

🎶 playlist for part i

prologue

part ii

part iii

part iv

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: angst?

Author’s Note: hi everyone, thank you so so much for the responses to the prologue! I am so overwhelmed and did not expect to receive so much kindness it makes me wanna cry hahaha 🥺 thank you a thousand times over! and if this is your first time getting to know the fic, I highly suggest you read the prologue before diving into part 1! This chapter is sort of a filler chapter (I know it has 2.6k words lol), it shows how (y/n) have been doing since the break up & how the trip came about, I hope it’ll make sense once you read it 🤍 thanks for reading x

Gif:

It’s been months since you last spoke to him. Him. The thought of him still hurts. The idea of him existing without you, hurts. As much as you try to fight it, you still remember him like the back of your hand. You could draw on paper the contours of his face by memory, by instinct, like remembering your way home. He was a love you have never experienced before. Something about his magnetism seemed impossible to resist.

You and Dominic broke up nearly half a year ago. Your hopes of an amicable breakup were destroyed by him. His confusion, his anger, his frustration made it impossible for you two to stay friends. He couldn’t even begin to imagine being just a friend to you when his entire heart belongs to you. He called you selfish for leaving, he called you stubborn for having your mind made up without letting him put up a fight when he was ready to battle anyone, even you, to save your relationship.

The first few months were difficult, but the first few weeks were excruciating. You barely ate, as the numbing in the pit of your stomach constantly made you nauseous that your body couldn’t digest anything you ate. You couldn’t bring yourself to shower and get dressed, and spent days laying in bed, wallowing in sadness. Overtime, you just learn to live with the pain.

Since then, you’ve had good days, and slowly but surely stopped faking smiles and replaced them with genuine ones. But your bad days felt like hell, with your mind often teasing you with memories of him that you’ve suppressed enough to compartmentalise, then it comes back to you all at once, and consumes your entire soul. The pain is suffocating, like being crush by tidal waves, leaving you no time to run for shore, the waters dragging you, pulling you in many directions. All you could do was be still, stay paralysed, and pray that it goes away. That’s what remembering him felt like.

Then on other days, you often wonder how you were able to manage all this, with the pain still fresh whenever you think about it, but I guess we’re all guilty of pushing our feelings to the side and pretending that everything’s alright, when it’s the opposite. You’re still alive, despite it all. But you want to live, not just survive.

The truth is, you did not leave because you fell out of love. In fact, you were too in love—it’s a crime. He was your entire life. Days were spent waiting for him to come home from training and matches. Missing him during away games. Your entire happiness depended on him, and that terrified you. You weren’t happy with yourself either, and expected more out of your life. The burden of having a prosperous career, a stable income, a life for yourself that you loved, becoming too heavy to bear. You had all these dreams and goals set for yourself that you never got to actualise so you could be by his side. Your love for him was insurmountable, that you couldn’t accommodate anything for yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you will always put him first. It was natural. Even though he never asked for all your attention, you couldn't simply choose between yourself or him, because you would always choose him. Over and over.

So you did what you had to do, break your own heart, and his, to love yourself.

Since your breakup, you finally moved out of your friend’s place and got yourself a nice two-bedroom flat at the city centre with a stunning view of the city. You landed yourself a job as a junior editor for British Vogue that demands commuting to London several days a week. As you thrive in difficult situations, the breakup forced you to submerge yourself in work, mainly to avoid the pain, but it propelled you to get to where you are.

Trying to get over someone who is in the public eye was a different battle. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he’s there. You see him on billboards, TV screens, his face painted on murals, quickly becoming a tourist site. Occasionally, you would watch his games out of habit, and listen to the prideful Evertonian crowd chant his name. You witnessed his first England senior team debut, and tuned in to England v. Wales on the TV for old time’s sake. You watched him score his first senior England goal behind a screen. Your eyes welled at sight of him living his dream, poaching the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the game, making his country and family proud. You feel the rush of adrenaline he felt as he ran to his teammates and celebrated. You can’t help but share this sense of pride, as you’ve watched firsthand how hard he has worked to get to where he is.

But on days where he isn’t on your mind, you do not want to be reminded of him. It’s difficult to cope when you encounter pieces of him that takes you back to the worst day of your life, and his.

Like last night, for instance. You had been scrolling on your social media when it was brought to your attention that a magazine had published an issue with your ex on the front cover, spotted on a night out with a blonde you don’t personally know but you could’ve sworn you’ve seen before. Perhaps another one of those so-called “influencers”, you thought to yourself. You know that you have no right to feel jealous or upset, as you broke up with him and this was bound to happen, but selfishly, a part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t find anyone else, or at least not before you did. You’re frustrated at yourself for letting him have this effect on you even months after your break up.

Succumbing to your bad habits, you give in to your impulses and pop open a bottle of red wine to calm your growing anxiety. Two glasses of wine, a takeout, and a season of Gossip Girl later, you find yourself slightly drunk, nerves calmed, and a little drowsy so you quickly change into your satin pyjamas and tuck yourself in bed.

You decide to turn on the TV for some background noise and quickly close your eyes. By some twist of fate, you hear a painfully familiar voice giving his thoughts at the end of a game he’s won. The sheer volume of his voice on the TV causes a sharp pain in your chest as you scramble to reach for your remote in the dark, with your eyes half opened. and change it to anything but a sports channel. That’s it, you thought to yourself. I need to get the fuck away.

Still drunk and not entirely aware of what you’re doing, you reach for your laptop on the nightstand. The brightness made your eyes squint a little bit, but you managed to type out a link and open a travel booking site, and scroll through different pictures of tropical islands you’re longing to get to. Anywhere but here, you thought. You selected options that you thought looked the blue-est, the most expensive, a party town, and had the most five star restaurants.

By the end of it you have booked a return flight to Mykonos for 5 people where you will be staying at a grand, luxurious 5-bedroom villa located at the party central of the island. You couldn’t be bothered to check how much it cost you. All sense of ration gets thrown out the window when you mix heartbreak with alcohol. When you told your friends of what you had just done, it was safe to say that they were surprised but absolutely ecstatic that you have booked a much needed getaway with the girls. With a three-day notice, you all quickly scramble through your closet and go on an online shopping spree to pick out your outfits for the holiday.

***

Days later, you find yourself landing on Mykonos island on a sunny afternoon.

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to pull all this off within days,” your friend says as you all walk through the pebbled entry way of your villa, and open the door. “Holy fucking shit,” another friend says in awe of the sight. The villa was filled with white interior, bright lights, wooden tables that give off beach vibes, and an infinity pool where you could swim as you watch the sunset, with a view of the blue sea. With 5 bedrooms to choose from, your friends collectively decided that you should take the master that had direct access to the pool, which you happily accepted but it wouldn’t matter anyway, as you’ll all probably stay in one room.

Once you’ve unpacked, you pull out your white cardigan and make your way out the terrace to catch a view of the sunset and have a moment by yourself. You take a deep breath of the fresh air with a hint of sea breeze as you try to take in the stunning view of the island. You are filled with gratitude as you bear witness to something so beautiful as you watch the sun sink into the blue Aegean Sea. Despite the peacefulness exuded by the view, your heart can’t help but feel Dom. You remember when he had brought up wanting to spend this exact summer in Mykonos with you, but life had other plans.

***flashback***

Dom was laying in bed with his laptop screen on his chest, an arm to support his head as he scrolled through the travel booking site. He had been looking through different options, but he has his mind set on a lovely town in Greece, Dubai’s overrated after all, he thought.

“Me, you, blue skies, tanned skin, bike rides around town, what do you think love?” asked Dom. “Where’s this?” you ask, moving closer to him as he shows you his laptop screen. “Mykonos. It’s not too far away, I’ll have enough time to rest before pre-season starts,” he replies. “That sounds like a plan,” you smile at him. “But we’ll book it closer to the summer, yeah? In case anything comes up,” you said as you plant a kiss on his cheek. He nods as he bookmarks the site and drifts off to sleep with you shortly after.

Unbeknownst to you, later that night he quietly opened his laptop and quickly booked the trip for you two as a surprise. Anything that will come in the way will just have to be compromised. He was adamant to make sure he gives you the best summer of your life, it is what you deserve after all, he thought.

***

You had forgotten about your conversation with Dom until you stood on the island. Your thoughts were interrupted by your friend’s footsteps. “Hey, you okay babe? You’ve been out here for a while,” she asks with concerned eyes. “I’m alright,” you said. “Or I will be,” you add, giving your friend a forced smile. Your friend wraps her arm around your shoulders as you two make it back inside to have an early and quiet night with the girls, exhausted from all the travel.

***

The next day you woke up a little late, with only several hours to tan before having to get ready for your dinner reservation at one of Mykonos’s famous restaurants that looks over the sea. A little frustrated at yourself for sleeping in, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, put on some light makeup, and change into your swimwear.

You join your friends who are sprawled on the sunbeds. “So, where is this place again?” you asked your friend who booked the dinner. “A restaurant by the sea located at party central babe. Everybody, I mean everybody goes here. They’ve got the best food and music,” she replies. “Think of Mamma Mia 1,” another friend chimes in. Your eyes widen at the imagery. “Better have some great alcohol too, I’m desperate for some,” you laugh. “That’s my girl,” your friend says.

***

By the late afternoon you and the girls are getting ready for dinner. Makeup bags and its contents sprawled on the floor, you had to tiptoe around makeup products and brushes, careful not to step on them. After long deliberation, you decided to dress up in co-ord that hugs your figure and fits you like a glove, paired with your favourite heels, settling for an elegant yet fun look. You decide to keep your hair down and put on some natural makeup to balance out the bold colour. After about 30 minutes of taking pictures of each other and some group photos, you finally made it out the door.

The location was spectacular. The ambience was complemented with bright lights to lighten the dim Mykonos sky that has turned a shade of dark blue, almost purple. The food was divine, a little overpriced for your liking, but it was worth it. The restaurant turns into a nightclub close to midnight, and you and your girls were eager to start your first round of drinks. Fruity drinks were passed around, made with fruits freshly picked from the gardens. Watermelon margarita was your drink of choice, partly sweet, partly sour, and just enough tequila as your first drink of the trip.

The restaurant was packed, you could’ve sworn you had seen a star of a Spanish series you’ve just finished watching on Netflix. The guests were well dressed, many had bravely eccentric taste, mixing patterns and sparkly jewellery, paired with funky footwear to add some flair. In Mykonos, you will not encounter the same judgment as you would walking down the streets back home.

Your friends stood up to dance the second the alcohol kicked in. You took your time, savouring your drink, wanting the night to last. You smile at the sight of your happy friends, so full of life, not giving a single care in the world. As you’re sitting there, observing people, you suddenly feel your chest get heavy. It’s hard to put into words what this feeling is like, but it pushes you to shut down in social settings, overwhelmed by strangers and loud music that makes your ears ring. It is a feeling of unexplained anxiety, where you need a second to correct your breathing, and calm yourself down. Not now, you thought, not here. You often feel these random bouts of emptiness since you left Dom. You try to push the discomfort away, and think of anything else but him. You stood up and walked to the edge of the restaurant by the white border wall to get some fresh air, and take in the view of calm waves under the night sky to collect some peace of mind.

You place your elbows on top of the border, and rest your head on the palms of your hands. A bystander would think that you’re a scene from a movie, a damsel in distress, longing for her love interest. But this was no movie, no fairytale, no knight in shining armour to protect you, no lover to sweep you off your feet.

Or so you thought.

Your focus on the sounds of splashing waves was interrupted by familiar footsteps, getting louder and louder as it creeps its way closer to you. The scent of the sea began to mix with an all too familiar scent of tobacco vanilla. Only one person came to mind. It can’t be, you thought.

“(Y/N)?,” his voice breaks.

It’s him.

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #mclfic

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heliolicious · 3 years

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napoleone della rosa's diary - from cristoforo della rosa's point of view

chapter 1: childhood

i don't have memories of my brother's first years. i am the youngest sibling of three brothers, and i was too young to know what was going on. i, cristoforo della rosa, only have my older brother's stories about it.

i don't think we need to introduce our family, unless you've been living under a rock since the early 1900s, but we're the sons of augusto della rosa and olympia diamandis, the oldest sons of their respective families, two of the richest in italy and in greece respectively. we've been living in naples, until we spent around five years back in mykonos, where my older brothers were born.

i was only a two - almost three - year old, when my older brothers, twins, napoleone and michelangelo, got into elementary school, in greece. oh, but it was no real school, we had a private teacher and private lessons. we were a happy family, it couldn't be any better. until the catastrophe. "this child, mr. and mrs. della rosa, is too smart to be real. his memory is impeccable, and he solved math problems i would expect from a middle schooler. not a six year old. your son is very special and i think such a talent should get recognition."

these were the teacher's words, based on what my brother, napoleone, told me. we can't doubt on the accuracy of them, since the child the teacher was talking about, was him. that, was how his life started getting more and more like a nightmare, even if on the spot, it looked like a dream to him. and with that, i started getting more and more sad. napoleone and i had a special bond. he always cared about me the most, as if he was trying to protect me by the rest of the family, even if i was too little to understand it, yet.

but all the studying our parents started to force him into was driving his time away from me. and i had no clue he was being forced. no more sleeping next to me when a storm was outside, no more playing with my toys, no more reading bedtime stories to me, no more cuddling. and michelangelo, however, was getting more and more upset about the attention his twin was getting. at the point that, one day, in santorini, he tried to exploit the presence a high cliff to kill napoleone by letting him fall. needless to say, it backfired immensely.

nobody hurt my brother without receiving a payback, apart from one person. but we'll get to this in another chapter. michelangelo's death was my brother's first homicide. nobody was around, so he cried out for "an accident" that had occured. i was too little to remember it, so i simply didn't ask anything about michelangelo's fate, he just suddenly disappeared from our lives, that's just as much as i remember. until napoleone himself confessed it to me, just a couple days ago.

i can't even say it stung, because i almost had no relationship whatsoever with michelangelo, plus it's been a ridiculous amount of years since then. in all honesty.

napoleone, anyways, seemed to have grown too quickly. i have his youth's diary in my hands. this poor item went through a lot. got stabbed with a dagger, pages got ripped and burnt. but we'll get to that in a couple chapters more. at the age of six, that's when the diary starts. after michelangelo's death. in the first page, napoleone claims the soul of his late twin is haunting him, and that he needs somewhere to save his considerations and life in.

however, it continues in the years to come. describing the horror i hadn't been aware of for so many years. this is where the proper story begins. from his diary.

"july 26th, 1982. (=napoleone's age: 8 / cristoforo's age: 5)

the things to say are everytime less. everyday is the same. waking up, eating, studying. having lunch, sleeping, studying. having dinner, taking a shower, going to bed. i miss the times when i could cut some time off my days to stay with my little brother. cristoforo is growing up, and i don't remember the last time i held him. around three years ago, maybe? either way, this hell used to happen just during school time, but it is summer now. they decided i'm old enough to start studying in summer, too. i'm just an 8 year old. it's a full year of no playing with anyone. i have no friends. no one to share my playful side with. i'm starting to think it's disappearing. i only have delphine, my nanny, next to me. she loves me, she treats me like a son. i wish i could call her mom. she feels like a mom, more than my real mother actually does. i feel so miserable. why did they have to find out my intelligence was out of the ordinary? why me? i wish i was ignorant. i wish i was a donkey."

"april 7th, 1985. (=napoleone's age: 11 / cristoforo's age: 8)

there goes another forgotten birthday. nobody cares about me in this house, if not for my brains. the only one who got me a present was delphine. she noticed i hold a diary, and she thought that giving me crayons would have been sweet. i appreciate it. maybe i could...

let's see how these work

oh my god this is so cool

the strongest emotion of the day so far... crayons

sad.

either way, delphine says i am the sun, that the sun lives in me. i don't know what to say, i don't really know much about her subject. she used to be a priestess, you know? she's from phocis, where delphi is. her name itself says it. i don't really know what she means by that, but at least i've got crayons. haha."

#la rosa bianca🦉#writings🦉#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part five #vento aureo #golden wind #white rose #muse: napoleone💎#napoleone della rosa #muse: cristoforo♣️#cristoforo della rosa

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uncloseted · 2 years

Note

Sorry if this is offensive but are greek people homophobic? (more than average)

I guess it depends on what you consider "average". Civil unions for same-sex couples are legal in Greece, which means that same-sex couples are eligible for many, but not all, of the legal protections and rights available to married opposite-sex couples. Discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity is illegal, and all anti-LGBT discrimination is explicitly banned. In 2017, transgender people were granted the right to have their gender identity legally recognized and to change their legal sex without having to undergo surgery. In February 2018, a county court in Greece granted a non-binary person the right to a gender-neutral name. In May 2018, the Greek Parliament passed a law granting same-sex couples the right to foster children. Adoptions are not allowed for same sex couples, but LGBT individuals can adopt children.

In terms of the social climate, A 2020 study found that "71% of the respondents believe that homosexuality should be accepted in the Greek society, and 90% of the respondents believe that 'the homosexual people should have equal rights as everyone else'. Same-sex marriage is favored by 56% of the respondents, while adoption by same-sex couples is supported by 40%."

A different study found that 64% of Greek people "total agree with the statement that 'Gay, lesbian and bisexual people should have the same rights as heterosexual people.'" That percentage is higher for Greece than it is for Slovenia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Lithuania, Estonia, Poland, Latvia, Hungary, Croatia, Bulgaria, Romania, and Slovakia, but lower than in most of Western and Northern Europe (Sweden, Netherlands, Spain, UK, Denmark, Germany, France, Belgium, Ireland, Finland, Portugal). Like in a lot of places, if you're in more urban areas such as Athens (or on islands such as Mykonos or Lesbos), being LGBT is more accepted than if you're in more rural areas.

Overall, Greece is 18th of 49 countries on the Rainbow Europe rankings, which take into account both legal protections and social climate for LGBT people. This puts them right below Austria and Germany. So I would say that they're less homophobic and transphobic than average, but that there's still a long way to go before they're totally LGBT friendly.

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chicken-fifi · 4 years

Text

KEY: Smut🌶️, Fluff 🥰, Angst 🥺, Violent 🔪, Ships 🚢, Suggestive 😏

Xiumin Marshmallow 🥰 Domestic Things 🥰

Suho ~None~

Lay Come Back to Bed 🥰

Baekhyun Chanyeol v. Baekhyun 🥰 When I Come Back 🥰🥺 Our Future 🥰 No Life for a Baby 🥺

Chen (Plantonic only) Spoil 🥰

Chanyeol Baby Fever 🥰 Chanyeol v. Baekhyun 🥰 One I’ve Been Missing - Secret Santa Gift 🥺🥰 I’m Not Done Yet 🌶️

D.O Mykonos 🥰

Kai Chanyeol v. Baekhyun 🥰

Sehun Bell Peppers 🥰

Reactions

Comforting EXO (Ot12) Falling for a Fan Teaching their g/f to Dance Using Fruit In Bed - NSFW You’re a Dog Groomer You Have a Personal Protection Dog Their Celebrity Crush Has a Crush on Them

Headcanons:

Baekhyun Headcanon - He’s Your Bodyguard Chanyeol Headcanon - You Struggle to Show Affection

Moodboards

EXO-L Secret Santa 2021 - D.O, Kai, Sehun

#exo masterlist #xiumin #suho #lay #baekhyun #chen #chanyeol #do #kai #sehun #exo ot12

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jlalafics · 4 years

Text

“Stand by Me”-an Everlark one-shot

This prompt was requested by @all-consuming and my prereader @keelaree.

I’m sure that this wasn��t what you expected, but I was vey inspired by a subplot in a K-drama that I watched recently and just went with it.

Prompt request: “You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting very suspicious”

Trigger warnings: child abuse, kidnapping, reference to suicide

Summary: Peeta Mellark returns home to find himself mysteriously drawn to his little sister’s best friend. Mature themes.

~~~~~

“When the night has come

And the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we see

No I won't be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me…”

—Ben E. King “Stand By Me

~~~~~~

“Move faster!”

He clutches her hand tightly as they run out of the forest.

It’s well after midnight, too late for children their age to be out and about. Katniss’ two braids have become unraveled and her flowered nightgown is dirty and torn at its bottom. He isn’t any better with torn jeans and his ankles burning, each step agony.

But he presses on, he needs to make sure she is safe.

“Peeta, I’m scared,” Katniss tells him in her tiny voice. Everything about her is tiny. Except for her eyes. They are big pools of silver surrounded by dark lashes; each lash wet with tears. “I want to go home.”

“That’s where I’m taking you,” he grumbles. “We just have to get out of here.”

They walk and walk and walk…Peeta feels himself beginning to cramp up. Katniss is starting to falter. What did he expect from a child of five?

He looks up at the sky—a full moon. It feels like forever since he’s seen the sky.

Tears gather in his eyes. What if his family has given up on him?

By some miracle, they find themselves on the main street of the town next to their own. There are people everywhere and Peeta tightens his hold on Katniss’ small hand.

“Stay close to me,” he tells her.

Katniss squeezes his hand. “I won’t let go.”

A group of people stumble out of a bar as its jukebox plays ‘Only You’ by the Platters, and Katniss presses herself to him, seeing a man fall to the ground and vomit on the concrete. Protectively, Peeta puts an arm around her as they move away from the rush of people.

It is nearly sunrise when Peeta reaches her house; no one is probably even aware that Katniss has been gone.

“Go right to bed,” he tells her sternly. “And, don’t go walking out of your house in the middle of the night again!”

Her gaze is solemn. “I promise, Peeta.” She holds out her little finger. “Pinkie swear?”

He indulges her and hooks their pinkies together, a tired smile of relief gracing his lips. “Go now.”

“Thank you for protecting me,” Katniss tells him, her cheeks perked by her sunny smile. “I’m going to marry you.”

“That’s stupid,” he responds. “You’re only five!”

However, even at the tender age of nine, Peeta is flattered at her declaration.

This little wisp of a girl is so sure that her heart belongs to him.

“When you’re older, you’ll find someone else to love and marry,” he says to appease her.

“I will be older, but I will still love and marry you!” she declares, chin up defiantly.

Peeta nods. “Okay, when we are older.”

++++++

Peeta opens his eyes as the train cart jolts. He looks around, finding his entire compartment empty. His back aches; exhausted from the plane ride back to the States followed by the four-hour train ride back to his hometown.

It’s been years since he’s been home. His family would usually visit his boarding school in England for the holiday. Eventually after school was over, his wanderlust took him away to the different sides of the world.

He chases for peace of mind—but it never comes.

Nightmares plague him even in the most beautiful of places. He found himself crouched and shaking on the balcony of his hotel in Mykonos before finally deciding to come home.

Peeta decides to walk home; the Mellark Home is just a scant ten minutes away from the train station. He wants to get back into the rhythm of small-town life before he’s bombarded by his family. They are wonderful people, loving and supportive, but he often feels as if they walk on eggshells around him.

Everyone but his little sister, sunny girl that she is.

As he reaches the block where his home is, Peeta feels like he’s going back in time. Everything has remained the same; the street sign still has a sticker that Rye, his older brother, placed as a dare by one of the Hawthorne boys.

The large trailer that Haymitch Abernathy and his wife Effie use for camping trips is still parked in front of their house.

His home looms over him, a perfect two-story colonial with flower boxes at its windows and a white picket fence. His mother is an avid gardener and it shows in the perfect flower beds at the front of the house. He recognizes his sister’s namesake immediately, right by the door, and finds his mouth perking into a semblance of a smile.

A flash of white suddenly catches his peripheral vision.

Looking to the building next door, Peeta suddenly freezes.

Dark hair and grey eyes catch him. She is wearing a thin, white nightgown and the morning light catches the outline of a feminine figure. Her tanned legs hang from the porch fence she has perched herself on and her hands reach into a bucket sitting next to her.

She pulls her hands out—her fingers, delicate and graceful—before she touches them together to make a circle. Her rose-colored lips rise and she exhales as bubble forms and flies out into the air.

Her gaze follows the bubble and a grin forms on her mouth as she watches it fly off—

“Peeta!”

Prim is running towards him, golden hair flying with her, and he catches her easily in his arms.

“You’re home!” she cries happily and Peeta smiles fondly at her. “Did you walk from the train station?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Peeta replies, his voice raspy. “The town is nice and quiet at this time.”

“It’s always quiet around here,” Prim explains, taking his hand and leading him up the stone pathway. “Mom and Dad aren’t awake yet, but they’ll be so happy you’re back…Rye and Cashmere are coming for dinner…you’ll get to meet Baby Sarah…”

He listens dutifully but can’t help but look next door.

She is staring at him, still as tiny as ever, her hands clasped together.

He is awestruck by her innocence and happy to know that there is no darkness reflected in those lovely grey eyes.

There is only hope.

Her mouth rises in a small smile.

Before Peeta knows it, she is gone, disappearing into her home but leaving him with an unknowing ache inside.

++++++

Dinner is a happy affair.

His parents are thrilled that he is home. His mother is still the picture of elegance, her blonde hair in a perfect chignon and her smile is brings such youth to her face that it’s almost hard to believe that she is the mother of three grown children. His father, ruthless businessman that the newspapers report him to be, is actually a kind, caring person whose greatest treasure is his family.

They did everything under the sky to make sure that he was alright and Peeta is grateful; he loves them for it, but he can’t help but feel like he’s missing that part in his mind that makes him able to convey it. Prim and Rye are boisterous and loud, unable to not pull him into their arms for hugs. Upon his arrival, Rye cried just seeing his baby brother on their couch.

They’re at the tail end of dinner when there’s a knock on the front door.

Katniss enters their dining room and Peeta immediately stands up at the sight of her. Her hair is down, raven waves framing her pretty face, and she wears a simple green dress that makes her look like a woodland pixie.

Everyone stares at his motion; his parents amused while his siblings look to him curiously.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he sits back down, his eyes darting up just to see the wisp of a smile on her mouth.

“Katniss!” Prim rushes over, giving her a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Rue and I made pies,” she explains shyly. “I know how much you like peach, so I brought it over.”

His mother, gracious hostess she is, goes to Katniss to take the pie pan from her.

“Thank you, Katniss! Go ahead and have a seat, sweetheart.”

His father grabs a spare chair, putting it between himself and Prim. He stands, so used to doing it during events at boarding school, as she sits and doesn’t hesitate to help push her seat for her. He almost grins seeing that her feet are just a little bit off the ground before sitting down.

Katniss looks to him. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” he tells her quietly, his throat tight at the sight of her.

He learns that they moved into the house next door when she was ten after her father passed away. Also, that Katniss’ mother remarried three years ago, and Katniss has a stepsister, Rue, who is eight years old. By the way she talks about the young girl, it’s obvious they are close.

“I’m taking her to that carnival that just opened this weekend,” she tells his family as they eat dessert.

“I want to go!” Prim cries out excitedly. She is nineteen, but there is still that youthful excitement in her eyes. “May I please tag along?”

“Of course, Prim,” Katniss tells her. She looks around, before her eyes go to him. “All of you are invited.”

His parents decline, but Rye and Cashmere agreed, and his parents offer to babysit Sarah, his cherub looking niece, so they can have an actual date night.

“How about you, Peeta?” His father asks.

He nods immediately, his eyes going to the girl next to him. “Sounds like fun.”

++++++

As Peeta gets ready for bed, there’s a knock on his door and he is surprised to find his parents on the other side. He widens the door and they enter, his father sitting at the chair next to his desk and his mother at the end of his bed.

“We just wanted to check on you,” his father starts. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been home—almost fourteen years, actually.”

“I know,” Peeta replies and looks around. “Looks like you never changed the place. If I open my bedside drawer, am I going to find those mini chocolates I used to carry around?”

“You always did have a sweet tooth,” his mother says with a smile. “How are you, Peeta?”

“Some days are hard,” he admits. “But I can’t keep running anymore.”

“We’ve missed you,” his father tells him, his voice on the verge of weeping.

His father’s voice had only sounded like that once before; the day that Peeta woke up in a hospital bed screaming bloody murder, begging them to get that woman away from him.

“No matter what, she’s going to be part of me,” Peeta explains. “Part of my nightmares.”

His mother hurriedly brushes away her tears. “Oh sweetheart, we failed to protect you—”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You are our son,” his father intones. “We will always worry about you and want to take care of you.”

Peeta nods; his chest filling with that familiar heaviness that comes with the night.

“I’m tired,” he tells them, suddenly listless.

Both stand, his mother kissing his forehead and his father patting his shoulder before bidding him goodnight.

Sleep does not come.

++++++

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Prim tells him as they walked into the entryway of the carnival. “It’s been ages, really.”

“I’m happy that I’m back,” Peeta replies. “Why does this place look so familiar?”

“It’s part of the old camping grounds, remember?” Prim skips down the path towards the carousel. “Look! There’s Katniss!” She jogs ahead to go greet her friend, just he sees an image in his mind of two children running out of the camping grounds to escape a madwoman.

Peeta makes his way his over, his eyes on Katniss, her hair in a long braid. She is wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with white sneakers on her tiny feet. Next to her is a young girl, mocha-skinned with wide almond eyes.

“Hello,” Katniss greets him with a friendly smile. “I’m glad you came.”

His mouth raises slightly. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Katniss puts a hand to the young girl’s shoulder. “Rue, this is Peeta. He’s Prim’s older brother.”

The girl stares up at him shyly. “Hello, Peeta. It’s nice to meet you.”

Kneeling before the girl, he holds out his hand. “Hello, Rue. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His eyes go quickly to Katniss, who flushes as their eyes met.

Rue shakes his hand and then turns to her sister. “He’s cute.”

“Rue!” Katniss takes the young girl’s hand, avoiding his eyes.

“Well, he is!” Rue insists.

It was starting to get crowded; Prim had disappeared, and his eyes search anxiously for her.

“She went to get food,” Katniss informs him, seeing his concern. “Your sister has an ever-stretching stomach, skinny thing she is.” Her eyes go down to her own figure. “I look like I’ve obviously had too many desserts.”

Peeta looks her over quickly; she is definitely curvy, her waist small and her hips full—a true Botticelli, which he finds overwhelmingly appealing.

“You look perfect,” he finds himself saying. His hand suddenly reaches for hers and Katniss starts. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

They head towards the concession stands in search of Prim; Katniss in the middle, her hands held by both Rue and Peeta.

“You’re only saying that because you’re Prim’s brother,” Katniss says, her gaze avoiding his.

“I shouldn’t be saying that because I’m Prim’s brother.”

++++++

“You have to be quiet!” he demands under his breath. “You’ll make her angry.”

Her wrists and ankles hurt, and Katniss is getting tired of sitting up against the wall of the smelly, dusty house. Why did the lady never clean?

Her eyes wander to the teddy bear, sitting in the corner of the room, caked with dirt and its eye missing. Did that mean that there were other children here?

“I want to go home!” she wails.

“Please Katniss…if you’re quiet, I’ll give you something to eat,” Peeta tells her. She quiets immediately and he offers her a smile. Though his hands are bound, he manages to reach into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a wrapped piece of chocolate. “Here you go.”

She unwraps it quickly before stuffing it into her mouth. “Thank you, Peeta.”

Katniss fails to notice that his own stomach grumbles with hunger.

++++++

Katniss sits up in bed, breathing heavily, as the remnants of the dream swim in her mind.

What was that?

She looks to her wrists and ankles—no marks.

It wasn’t real…the lady with the dark eyes and long, black hair…not real…

Laying back, she tries to close her eyes, but the faint taste of chocolate lingers in her mouth.

++++++

The night is humid and Peeta struggles to keep his body cool underneath the dress shirt he wears.

“Peeta, you should’ve borrowed something from Rye,” Prim tells him good-naturedly as they walk towards the stage. Around them, groups are setting up their picnic blankets for the summer concert that is an annual event in their town. “I’m taking you shopping tomorrow.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he assures her amusedly. “Am I cramping your style?”

“Of course not!” She entwines their arms. “You’re my very international older brother who my friends are dying to meet.” Her other hand shoots up. “There they are!”

His eyes go to the group of six; the two dark-haired men are obviously the Hawthorne brothers, beside them are two blondes, one tall and statuesque while the other is about Prim’s height with soft waves on her shoulders.

Then there is Katniss; tiny but breathtaking, in a blue knee-length dress.

“Hey guys!” Prim greets the group. “This is my brother Peeta, he just got back home a week ago.” She turns to the Hawthornes. “You know Gale and Vick.”

He shakes their hands and Gale gives him a friendly smile. “It’s been awhile, Peeta.”

Briefly, he remembers that he was in the same grade as Gale before he left. Were they friends before?

“Too long,” Peeta replies before shaking Vick’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Prim told us that you just left Mykonos before heading back,” Vick says in admiration. “You have to tell us all about it and all your other trips!”

“Yes, it can get a little stifling here,” the tall blonde adds, her deep blue eyes set on him. “Madge Undersee.”

“Nice to meet you,” he replies with an easy smile. Then, he goes to the shorter blonde. “Nice to meet you—”

“Delly Cartwright.” She is much more soft-spoken than Madge, her eyes less predatory than Madge’s as well. “Please make yourself comfortable.” She waves her hand to the array of food on their blanket. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“This looks great,” he tells her as he settles down next to Katniss and Prim who are chatting. “Do you cook all of this?”

“I own a café in town with my grandmother,” Delly explains. “I didn’t make the pie, though.” She smiles brightly at the dark-haired sprite next to him. “That was Katniss’ doing.”

Peeta turns to Katniss and she beams at him.

Finally, he can breathe again, the sight of her calming him. “What flavor is it this time?”

“Chocolate.”

She can’t quite meet his eyes after that.

++++++

The concert is a selection of popular 50’s songs covered by a popular local band.

Prim knows Thresh, one of the singers; he is the reason they scored such a great spot by the stage. As the night progresses, Peeta feels himself relax around the group. He tells them about the places he’s visited and finds himself realizing how fond he had been of cobbled stone streets in the small sector of Paris that he lived in for six months.

“What did you do there?” Madge asks. She has moved closer to him while he subtly scoots closer to his sister and Katniss.

“Walked along the Seine…sat at cafes and people-watched…got lost in the Louvre…pretended I was an artist and attempted to sketch…” Madge and Vick look wistful, losing themselves in the romanticism of it all. Delly is amused when he mentioned people watching; she seems to be an intuitive one, someone who would, like himself, find interest in human behavior.

“We all can’t wander around the world,” Gale remarks, his tone slightly envious.

During his time with Prim’s friends, he notices how the older Hawthorne gazes at Katniss longingly. However, Katniss seems focused on Prim, and sometimes, on him.

“True,” he agrees. “Boarding school was great when I was child. I needed the structure but, as I got older, it seemed that I needed to see what was beyond. I was lucky that my parents understood, but they wanted me to find some sort of work. So, I didn’t exactly ask them to help me get around, so I worked where I could.”

“What did you do?” Katniss suddenly asks.

Peeta turns to Katniss, giving her his full attention.

“I did what you do. I baked.” Her mouth widens in surprise and it thrills him to see how her eyes light up at his words. “In Paris, I worked at a boulangerie and baked the whole night. In Amsterdam, I learned how to make stroopwafels and in Spain, it was churros.”

“Then, how the fuck do you have abs?” Madge demands to know, and the group laughs. “Seriously, I can’t eat a piece of cake without my ass jiggling!”

“It’s the Mellark metabolism,” Katniss suggests. “I mean, look at Prim! She can eat and eat and look at her!”

“But the Mellark metabolism doesn’t seem work in my favor when it comes to alcohol,” Prim tells them, her eyes hazy. “I need some water.” She tries to get up but fails spectacularly. “Just give me a second…”

Katniss stands. “I’ll go grab some bottles.”

“Let me help,” he offers. Katniss doesn’t say a word, only nodding to the group before heading to the concession stands towards the back of their field. She is silent as they walk through the congested space, and he finds himself taking her hand once again. “The pie was really good.”

Katniss doesn’t pull away, though her eyes remain ahead. “Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“You should do it professionally,” he says.

Katniss finally turns to him.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking that I’d like to learn other baking techniques.” She smiles softly. “It’s a bit of a dream of mine to open a bakery here.”

“Oh yeah?” She nods bashfully. “I think you’d be great at it.”

“I don’t have much experience with other baked goods, so that might be an issue,” Katniss says as they reach the concession stand. “Seven waters, please.”

Peeta goes to his back pocket, pulling out a ten and handing it to the cashier.

“How about going to culinary school?” he suggests.

The cashier has been nice enough to given carriers for the bottles. Katniss insists on taking one, so he grabs the other, not letting go of her hand. As they move towards the stage, he finds his senses heightened as the crowd closes in.

He lets go of her hand, winding his arm around her shoulders instead and pulling her to his side.

“To answer your question; school requires money, which I don’t have,” Katniss replies as they move closer to the group.

“I can give it to you,” he offers suddenly.

Katniss stops just short of Prim and the others, her eyes curious. The group watches their exchange in apt interest.

“Why would you do that?”

Peeta shrugs. “Because…”

Because I want to take care of you.

He didn’t know where the errant thought came from.

However, his mind travels to a dusty room…a young girl with two dark braids…and his last piece of chocolate…

“Do you want to dance?” Katniss abruptly offers.

“What?”

She takes the carrier from his grasp and puts it on the ground along with hers, before holding out her hand.

“I don’t know how,” he admits anxiously.

“I’ll teach you.” Katniss reaches for his arm to wrap it around her waist before taking his other hand in hers. “There.” She smiles encouragingly. “All you have to do is move.”

“Only you can make all this world seem right

Only you can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do…”

Katniss is a tiny one, her head just hitting his chest. He longs for her to rest it against him so that he can wrap his arms around her…protect her.

From what, he doesn’t know.

All Peeta knows is that this is where she was meant to be—in his arms, safe and sound.

His eyes spare a glance at the group’s reactions; Prim watches them through her buzzed eyes, a grin on her beer-laced lips, Delly with a gentle understanding, Vick with amusement at Katniss’ impromptu suggestion, Madge with envy, and Gale with resentment.

What they think means nothing to him, especially when Katniss rests her head against him.

“When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do

You're my dream come true, my one and only you…”

++++++

She tells him to call her Mother.

Katniss lays on his lap, exhaustion taking over as it gets closer to sunrise, and his nth day in this dilapidated room. Peeled yellow wallpaper hangs down the stained walls. There id no furniture, but there are cobwebs…so many cobwebs.

“Wake her up,” the woman commands. “We’re going soon.”

She smiles at him, revealing perfect white teeth. The woman is beautiful; creamy white skin and perfectly made up with her lined eyes and ruby red lips.

The look in her eyes, however, is unhinged.

“Is Father coming soon?” he asks.

She often speaks of “Father” who is supposed to be coming home from a business trip. Father who expected nothing but beautiful, obedient children.

Silent children who never spoke if they heard people walk by the house.

The woman’s eyes blaze, and she makes a grab for his chin, squeezing it between her index finger and thumb painfully.

“He’s not coming!” She screams at him. “Are you a fool? He did not want me! He made me kill my baby!”

Peeta whimpers as she reaches behind with her free hand to reveal a rope.

She places it to Katniss’ neck, and he prays that Katniss doesn’t wake—her cries would only agitate the woman.

“Such a pretty girl with such lovely hair,” the woman whispers. “Do you think her family would miss her? Would they cry for her? Would they mourn her?” She touches Katniss’ braid so softly before reaching into the pocket of her coat to take out a pair of scissors. “Or do you think that they would just forget her? Like I was forgotten…”

“DON’T! PLEASE!” he sobs. “I promise we won’t say anything! I will be quiet forever! No one will ever know! I promise! Please mother! PLEASE!”

Please God…someone…anyone…please keep Katniss from waking…keep her safe…

“Don’t cry.” The woman’s voice is suddenly gentle, and her hand reaches to touch his head tenderly. He looks up, eyes full of tears and snot dripping from his nose. Her gaze is resigned and sad, the hand holding the rope against Katniss pulling back. “There now. You’re a good boy, Peeta. You stayed with me till the end.”

She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he can see her tears against the dust of the floor.

Peeta stares at the ground, his eyes focusing on her red heels as she stands to walk out of the room—rope in her grasp.

“Goodbye Peeta.”

His eyes shoot up.

“Don’t go! Please don’t do this! Don’t leave us…MOTHER!”

++++++

Peeta rushed out to the back porch, breaths heaving as his whole body shakes.

He walks down to the grass of his backyard, vomiting his dinner all over his mother’s green grass before falling to his knees, sobbing hysterically and lost in the dazed memory of the woman’s final goodbye.

There is the bang of the back door and Peeta suddenly feels his father’s strong arms encircling him.

He rocks Peeta against him. “You’re home now. You’re safe…”

Peeta’s mother joins them, the scent of freesias solidifying her warm presence and his breathing begins to level.

“Go ahead and cry, love,” she urges “Get it out…”

They sit there in that vomit-wet grass until his legs feel strong enough to stand. Prim is at the open doorway, her blue eyes damp as their parents walk him up the steps.

His eyes suddenly drift to the porch next door.

Her grey eyes are deep with worry.

His dream-laden mind calls out to her:

Please Katniss…please stay asleep…

++++++

“Who really likes to go hiking?” Madge asks as they stand outside of the archway that leads them into the park.

“I don’t mind,” Delly says as she puts her backpack on.

“It’s good for you,” Gale cajoles Madge. “Separates the weak from the strong.”

“I’m self-admittedly weak,” Madge retorts.

“You’re so fit,” Katniss tells her admirably. She stands next to Peeta and Prim in a pair of leggings and a green hunting jacket. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re too sweet, Katniss.” Madge puts an arm around her shoulders as they all walk underneath the archway and towards the trail. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

“Hey!” Vick calls out to her. “What about me?”

Madge goes to him, batting her lashes. “You’re my favorite boy.”

Peeta and Prim follow behind, his sister’s concerned gaze on him.

He finally turns to her. “I’m alright, Prim.”

“Are you?”

“These things happen,” Peeta assures her. “I’m having them much less than I used to.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better at all,” his sister retorts. “How do I know that you’re not going to up and leave again?”

“Because no matter where I go, whatever this is will always be in me,” he tells her bluntly. “At least here, I’m not alone.”

Prim bites her lip and he knows that she wants to say something.

Instead, she nods and Peeta draws her into a hug.

“Go on and join your friends,” he tells her. “I prefer a slower walk.”

She squeezes his hand before heading to their group.

“I prefer a slower walk, too.”

Katniss is at his side.

Peeta takes her hand, lacing their fingers together.

She stares up at him, chest rising rapidly, and cheeks pink.

“There’s no crowd for me to get lost in.”

“I know.”

++++++

“Do you want to tell me what last week was about?”

Peeta turns to the woman curled up next to him on the bench. “We’re going to get right to it?”

“Yes,” Katniss replies bluntly. “I remember you when we were children—”

He looks to her in surprise. “You do?”

“You used to come into our class to pick up Prim,” she explains. “And, you always looked larger than life to me.”

He brushes his finger against her cheek affectionately. “I think everyone is larger than life to you, little.”

“Maybe it’s because your family is so rich and you live in this beautiful house,” she explains. “And, I lived in low-income housing where there were no backyards or flowers or even working locks on our doors.”

It explains how Katniss had found herself trapped with him. Did the woman take her from her bed? Or somehow persuade Katniss to come with her?

“That night, you looked so small,” Katniss tells him, her voice soft. “Will you tell me what happened?”

“I have nightmares,” he tells her and she seems to recoil into herself. “A long time ago, something very bad happened to me.”

“What?” Katniss inches closer, her hand reaching to touch his wrist. He hisses instinctively. “Did I hurt you?” She pulls back the sleeve of his shirt and gasps. “Peeta, what is this?”

The scars from the cable ties are nothing but an inch of pink skin, but against his tanned skin, they stand out starkly. Katniss traces her finger along the scar, and he forces himself to breathe, to quell the feeling of sickness down as the memories rise to the surface.

“An accident,” he forces out.

“Is this why you left?” Peeta nods. “It must have been a bad accident if no one in your family will talk about it.”

“Do you remember anything about me—beside what you’ve told me?” he asks nervously.

“Not really.” Katniss gives him a smile. “Should I?”

“No, not really.” Peeta is relieved at her words. Standing up, he offers his hand and Katniss takes it willingly, almost eagerly. “We better go find everyone.”

He hates to leave their bench with its little wooden thatch roof.

“You ready?”

Gathering her backpack, Katniss stands to join him. “Ye—AHH!”

She turns, falling against him, and gasping as if something is choking the life out of her.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” His eyes go to where she sat, and he finds a web along at the corner of the thatch. He quickly swipes it away before turning to the cowering girl, rocking back and forth on the ground. “You’re afraid of spiders.”

It isn’t a question.

She is afraid of spiders because of him.

++++++

It has been quiet too long.

There had been only one sound—a chair dropping. He remembers seeing the small wooden stool as the woman brought him into the house. Guiding Katniss off his lap, Peeta rolls onto his belly. The cable ties keep him from getting to his feet or pushing himself up, so he decides to slither into the other room.

Peeta knows what he was likely to find, and he doesn’t want to see. Slithering towards the room, he breathes a sigh of relief seeing the scissors on the floor, next to the woman’s shoes.

“Don’t look up…” He can hear the creaks of the beam. “Don’t look up—”

“Peeta, what are you doing?” Katniss cries out.

“Don’t look in here!” he screams; he knows he sounds mean, but he can’t let her see.

So close…Peeta stretches with all might, taking the scissors with his pinky finger—

“Peeta, what’s in there?” Peeta looks over his shoulder to see Katniss twisting to look through the open doorway.

“A SPIDER!” He pushes back, trying not to think about the dangling feet above him. “Just don’t look, Katniss!”

“I hate spiders!” she wails, bursting into sobs as he makes his way back towards the room on his belly. “I want to go home…”

“We’re going home.” He takes the scissors in his grasp, using it to free his bloodied ankles before cutting her wrist binds free. “Help cut these ties Katniss.”

Katniss frees him easily and he goes to work on the cable ties on her ankles.

Carefully, he stands, slightly dizzy from having been in the same position for God knows how long.

“Take my hand,” Peeta tells the young girl. “We need to get out of here.”

++++++

“Is something going between you and my brother?” Prim asks as they walk into the auditorium.

Katniss turns to her best friend uneasily. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Because you two hold hands,” her best friend replies with a sly grin. “Not like I’m against you two getting together. I love you both like crazy.”

“He worries about me getting lost in crowds,” Katniss reasons. “I’m so short and all.”

“Peeta is just trying to be chivalrous,” Prim tells her. “You’re part of the family. Not surprised that he’d want to protect you.”

Her chest warms at the thought.

As much as Katniss tries to deny it, she is very much attracted to Peeta. She loses herself often in his ocean eyes and the need to hold him…protect him overwhelms her senses.

It is so not like her to act like this around a boy.

However, that treacherous voice inside tells her that Peeta is not a boy, but a man—and maybe that’s what she needs.

“Here are our seats,” Prim calls out, pulling her away from thoughts of how Peeta’s hair always looks so soft to touch. “I can’t believe Madge is in a fashion show.”

It is a local show for a department store two towns away. Madge has invited them as well as Delly to come check it out.

“I can,” Katniss replies as they sit down. “She has legs for days!”

The show begins promptly five minutes later, just as Delly slips into her seat. “What did I miss?”

“Madge hasn’t come out,” Prim tells her. “So far, so good. What do you think Katniss?”

Katniss isn’t listening, her eyes on the model heading down the runway.

Long dark hair…red lips…trench coast…strutting towards her.

She was coming to take her back!

Her face grows cold and she can hear the sound of blood rushing down her head.

Then, everything fades to black.

++++++

Mommy says that Daddy is too sick to come home.

Katniss went to bed angry. She would see Daddy; it had been so many days since they’ve played outside at the park. Her favorite is when Daddy pushes her on the swings, and she just pumps her legs to go higher as the sun shines in her face and the wind plays with her…

She would go see Daddy in the big building and help him get better.

Walking past Mommy’s bedroom, she looks in and finds her in deep sleep. It is easy to get out of the house. Sometimes the lock doesn’t work, and they would put a chair against the knob.

Tonight, Mommy forgot to do that.

Outside it is quiet, but the moon is bright and big. She looks around trying to remember which way to the hospital.

“What are you doing out?”

Katniss turns to see a beautiful woman with long black hair and dark eyes like her. She wears red lipstick like her Mommy used to when her and Daddy went on dates. Her long coat even looked like the one her Mommy wore during those dates!

“I’m going to the hospital to visit my Daddy,” she tells the lady. “What’s your name?”

The woman doesn’t tell her. “I’m going to the hospital, too. Would you like to come?”

She holds her hand out to Katniss and the light of the moon shows scars against her wrist.

Katniss is happy. Maybe it won’t take all night to see Daddy!

So, she takes the woman’s hand.

When they arrive at the broken house and her eyes go to the boy sitting in the corner, Katniss knows that she will be in so much trouble with Mommy.

++++++

Peeta rushes down the long corridor, his family hurrying behind him. He had been with his parents at Rye and Cashmere’s house when they got the phone call from a sobbing Prim telling them that Katniss was in the hospital.

Rye volunteered to drive him along with their parents to the hospital, fearing that Peeta was not in the right state of mind to get himself there in one piece. The whole time, his anxious mind goes from one scenario to another and he could feel his scars begins to itch and burn.

His brother stopped him from breaking skin, one hand on the wheel and the other on his hand.

“She will be alright,” Rye assured him, sadness in his blue eyes.

Now they were all looking for the right hallway, making another turn and relieved to see Prim leaning against the wall.

“Prim!” he calls out and his sister run straight into his arms.

“It was horrible! One minute she was sitting there and the next she was sinking to the floor…” Prim pulls away, her face streaked with tears. “They think she went into some sort of shock.”

“What are they doing for her?” Peeta asks. “Should we call her parents?”

“They’re already with her,” Prim informs them before looking to him. “She’s asking for you. It was the first thing she said as soon as she opened her eyes.”

Peeta is already opening the door.

In the room, a woman with golden hair and man with Rue’s dark eyes sit by the bed. Their eyes widen as he bursts into the room.

However, his eyes are focused on the woman sitting up in the bed, face grey and her eyes haunted.

“Peeta…” Katniss turns to him, anguish in her gaze. “I remember.”

He immediately goes to her, moving the siderail then wrapping his arms around her waist.

His head falls to her chest, feeling her heartbeat steady and strong, and her hand goes to his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“Don’t be.” Katniss caresses his locks tenderly. “I wasn’t afraid…because you were with me.”

++++++

“How long were you there?” she asks when they are finally alone.

His parents and Rye have taken Katniss’ parents as well as Prim out to lunch. Katniss’ doctor assures them that she is not in any imminent danger, but they are running some customary tests before releasing her.

“A few days. At least, I think. I lost count at some point, and I never really wanted to ask my parents about what was on the official police reports.” He takes her hand sandwiching it between his own. “I don’t even know her name or anything about her. I don’t want to.”

Katniss nods in agreement.

“I understand.” Their eyes meet. “What I don’t understand is—how could I forget all of this?”

“You were five.” He caresses her face gently, trying to remove the distress off it. “You were in that house for a few hours. A child could easily mistake what happened as a dream.”

“Or a nightmare,” Katniss replies quietly. “For you, it was.” She whimpers suddenly, her eyes growing wet. “The spider—”

“It was her,” he admits quietly. “I couldn’t let you see. You told me about your Dad; how he was sick in the hospital and I knew he was probably going to die. I couldn’t let what she did be your first experience with death. You wouldn’t have understood. At least with your father, his death would be mourned and eventually the pain would be healed. You would have never healed if you saw her.”

“But you saw her.”

“Only for a little bit,” Peeta says as he closes his eyes. “I could still hear the creak of the beams…feel the brush of air as her feet dangled—” He breathes out shakily. “For years, nightmares plagued me of that day. I couldn’t function; I couldn’t focus in fear that she would somehow come back. I knew she was dead, but when I closed my eyes, she was still standing before me.”

“Oh Peeta…” She looks so desperately sad for him. “You were only a boy and you took it all on yourself.”

“I wanted to keep you innocent.” Peeta’s thumb moves along her cheek, swiping away an escaped tear. “You reminded me that there was hope and good out there. I focused on you and you alone, promising myself that you would get out of there—even if I didn’t.”

“Don’t say that,” she cries. “I would have stayed with you. No one would’ve taken care of me the way you did.”

“I’m always going to protect you.” He reaches for her and Katniss falls into his arms. She belongs there. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to find you again.”

“You’re mine now,” she says against his chest. “You told me that I had to get older to find someone to love and marry.”

Peeta chuckles. “And, you told me that you would get older, but you would still love me and marry me.”

He knows that her promise stands true, strong and resilient.

Like them.

++++++

Time passes.

Katniss is released from the hospital and she returns home. Peeta remains at his parents, planning on eventually finding his own place in town. The fact that Katniss lives next door is the contributing factor for him choosing to stay in his childhood bedroom.

Eventually, he and Katniss gather their family together and tell them about their time with the woman; how the woman lured him away by asking him to help her with her luggage and offered him a drink which he had foolishly accepted. How he awoke to find himself bound. How she insisted that he and Katniss refer to her as Mother.

Their own mothers wept at the admission.

Katniss explains how she discovered a way out of her childhood home; how the woman told her that she would take her to see her father in the hospital. She described her first memory of Peeta, how he had offered her his last piece of food—he didn’t tell her until then that it had been days since he ate.

They feel horrible when Prim gets physically sick when they tell them of that dark day.

How the woman yelled over being heart broken and killing her baby, how she placed the rope against a sleeping Katniss, how Peeta begged her…promised to keep silent…

“I kept that promise until now,” he tells their families. “But, I can’t anymore. Not if I want to move forward…if we want to move forward.”

His eyes go to Katniss, beautiful and pure, her grey eyes shining at him.

He continues, explaining how something had broken the woman. How, in those last minutes, she was kind and gentle to Peeta. How she had thanked him for being there till the end.

Prim runs out of the room at that point; Katniss follows to make sure she is alright as she retches in the downstairs bathroom.

When they return, Prim is pale and her eyes blood-shot, but she asks them to continue.

Katniss talks about waking up to see Peeta crawling on his belly into the other room—and how he had told her to not look. How there was a spider in the room and how she cried in fear—the arachnophobia still exists, though she knows now that she associates spiders with the woman.

Peeta tells them of crawling into the room to get the scissors, how he told himself to not look up at the woman—Rye had wept at his words. He speaks of cutting them out of their bounds—cable ties still bring him to a state of panic—and how he instructed Katniss to close her eyes tightly as they walked out of the house.

“He brought me home,” she tells her parents. Rue had been left with a sitter. She is still too young to understand. In time, Katniss and Peeta will sit her down and tell her their story. “I don’t know how I managed to remember my address, but I did.”

“I went to the police station,” Peeta continues. “I barely made it passed the entrance before fainting.”

The story of the Mellark kidnapping had been kept under wraps by high-powered lawyers threatening to sue anyone who leaked the story.

Peeta recovered but suffered from PTSD and anxiety, barely able to make through school. Eventually seeing how it had put such a strain on his family, he asked to leave—as far away as possible.

“We never wanted you to leave,” his mother tells him. “Your father and I argued over whether it was the best thing, but your psychiatrist agreed that maybe you needed time away—a more structured environment where there were no abrupt changes to your daily life.”

“It was for the best,” Peeta insists before looking to his parents. “I want to tell you how grateful I am to have you as my parents. You never pushed me to just get better, and you were patient when I was hard to love. You let me go even though I know it was the hardest thing in the world and you let me find my way back home.”

“We love you,” his father tells him gruffly. “We wouldn’t change a thing about you—not a single hair on your head—and we’ve felt that way since the day you were born to now.”

When it is over, emotionally drained, they all stand to leave.

Katniss’ mother Iris goes to him.

“Thank you for saving Katniss.” Her eyes are filled with tears. “From her father and I, we are eternally grateful.”

“No need to be thank me,” Peeta replies. “Katniss, in so many ways, saved me.”

+++++++

Six months later, Peeta moves into his own place.

It is a modest apartment above a pizza parlor in the main part of their town. His mother overzealously decorates his one bedroom, one bathroom abode with calming blues and greens. His father shows up a week after he moves in with two flatscreen televisions for his bedroom and living room while Rye, who is a technician, sets-up his internet for the new laptop that he gives Peeta as a housewarming gift.

Prim often comes to visit with their friends. Fridays eventually become ‘Dinners at Peeta’s house’ nights and the group invades his home; Delly takes over his kitchen while Katniss brings over whatever dessert she is experimenting with.

And at the end, once the food is eaten and the dishes washed, one person remains—Katniss.

They watch television in his living room and then eventually on his bed until they fall asleep.

Peeta still experiences nightmares at times. However, it is better when he wakes from them with Katniss in his arms.

She never pushes him, and he does the same. They know eventually they will talk about whatever they are going through. It is not in their nature to not share with each other; they know too much about one another already.

++++++

It takes them three times to actually kiss.

The first as they sit on his porch one month after her hospital release. It is raining and they sit out watching, enjoying the sound and the smell of wet grass. Katniss looks spectacularly beautiful, her grey eyes peaceful, and though it is cool, he can feel the low fire in his belly at the sight of her.

Their eyes meet and he pulls her close.

As he closes his eyes, the woman’s face flashes in his mind and he abruptly pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” he pants out.

Katniss is, of course, hurt. She stands up and walks back into his house to collect her things to go home.

However, when the night comes, he finds himself awakened by Katniss slipping into his bed.

Her head goes to his chest and her hand to his heart. “I understand.”

They are still plagued by those irrational fears, Katniss still goes numb at spiders or cobwebs and sometimes the woman’s face pops up to remind them that there are horrors in life.

Katniss always reminds him that there is hope.

He covers her hand with his. “Thank you.”

++++++

The second time comes a month after he’s moved into his apartment.

He wakes up to Katniss thrashing in bed, sheets tangling in her struggle.

“Spider…go away! Cobwebs…cobwebs…too many…”

“Katniss—” She shoots up, scratching at the air and sobbing. “—what happened?”

“Peeta…” Her head falls against him and gathers her close, pulling her onto his lap. “I was trapped! She was the spider and you were on other side of the web—I couldn’t get to you! There were too many cobwebs.” Katniss meets his eyes, her own glittering with tears. “She killed you Peeta. She killed you and I couldn’t do anything but watch…”

“It was just a dream,” he reassures her, rocking her in his arms. “It isn’t real.”

“Sometimes I don’t know what is real and not real,” she whispers against him tiredly.

“We are real.” Katniss lifts her head to meet his eyes and he smiles tenderly at her. “You and me. We’re always going to be. I can’t offer anything else to you, Katniss, broken man that I am, except my promise to love you forever.”

Her hand reaches to cup his cheek.

“I love you, too.” The faint heat returns and Peeta feels the needy burn to kiss her. Katniss presses herself against him and he knows she feels it too—this hunger beginning to grow. “Please Peeta.”

The fire flares.

“Not now,” he tells her tightly…reluctantly. “Not after you’ve had this nightmare.”

Katniss understands, breathing out. “Then just stay here.”

Always.

++++++

A year later, they go to Paris.

They rent the small apartment that he used to live in. Peeta takes her to the boulangerie where he used to work so the owners, Monsieur Latier and his wife Wiress, can coo over his ‘petite amie’ and then teach her how to properly make baguettes and croissants to her heart’s content.

He begins to draw again; small sketches in a journal that he plans to give Katniss after their trip is over. His favorite drawings are of Katniss…smiling as she watches the sunset out of their window…walking the cobbled streets in her dark green hunting jacket…staring at him with those dark, hungry as she lays in their bed without a stitch on…

Their last night in Paris, Peeta presents her with the journal, complete with daily writings of his thoughts, photographs, recipes from Monsieur and Madame Latier, sketches of her. She wept seeing all the work that had gone into it.

“I want to make great memories with you,” he simply tells her.

They makes themselves a simple dinner, a bottle of red wine accompanying it. Then, they watch the sunset from their open window, Katniss perches between his legs and her head rests back on his chest. He weaves his arms around her, pulling her close, and she hums her contentment.

“This feels like home,” she says happily.

Peeta presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You are home.”

There is a sudden shift in the air, and he finds Katniss facing him, her fingers reaching to cradle his chin and his breath catches at the sensation. Her gaze goes to his lips and the hunger returns, desperate and calling out to her.

“Please Katniss,” he finds himself saying.

She smiles and leans forward, pressing her mouth to his.

Fire.

After as they lay together, sated after another kind of joining, Peeta gazes down at the Katniss, peppering kisses against her chin, savoring her taste, and thanking God for every moment they have now and whatever is beyond that.

“Marry me,” he whispers.

“Yes,” she replies, smiling up at him. “Even though I asked you first.”

And for the rest of the night, they are no words and there are no nightmares.

++++++

Now, there is another dark-haired girl with two long braids, and another blond boy. The girl’s eyes are his deep blues, while the boy, still learning to walk, has inherited his mother’s lovely greys.

Peeta watches them play in the backyard of the bakery that had once been a pipe dream of Katniss’. He bought the property below his old apartment as an anniversary present—enthusiasm in her thank you led to the conception of their daughter in its kitchen.

They are moderately wealthy, business is steady, and they are happy most of the time. Some days they struggle with nightmares or terrors, but in the end, they hold onto one another and it makes them stronger.

His wife joins him on the steps of their porch.

Immediately, his hand reaches for hers.

Peeta takes a deep breath and closes his eyes without fear, enjoying the sweet scent of Katniss and the sound of their children playing.

FIN.

#Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #prompt request #rated M #tw: child abuse #tw:kidnapping #tw:mentions of suicide

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therealvagabird · 4 years

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Sapphire Trio

Three OCs inspired by my time playing Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey. I don’t really have plans for this trio, but I wanted to get them down in writing. While not fanfic OCs, I imagine they inhabit a pseudo-romanticized version of Ancient Greece as depicted in that game.

They are all of them fans of murder and pretty ladies, and you can read about them under the cut.

Phoebe the Owl

Appearance: Tall and powerful woman with tanned olive skin and rich brown hair. Her features are very beautiful and refined, though her physique is that of an Olympic champion. Despite her intensive agility training, Phoebe has a broad figure and a natural disposition to putting on bulk, making her size an intimidating diversion to her actual speed and stealthiness.

Phoebe wears arm and leg-guards of dark patinated bronze, an off-white chiton, a dark brown embroidered chlamys with hood, and several sashes of deep blue fabric for fasteners. She also has many tool-pouches about her harness and carries with her two daggers and a xiphos. For supplemental weapons she has a sheaf of throwing knifes, as well as more exotic items like her rare custom poisons.

Bio: Phoebe was born at sea, near to the island of Ithaka, to a pair of traders. She spent her earliest years on the water or in port, leading a tough but adventurous life, and enjoying much affection from her parents. However around the age of ten tragedy struck when the ship her family was on wrecked on the north coast of the Gulf of Corinth. Phoebe was taken in by a passing patrol of soldiers returning to Attika and placed in the care of an adoptive family in Athens.

From then on Phoebe grew up within a simple military family in the city of Athens, receiving a basic girl’s education and being raised to be a good public servant – as her new parents determined early on she would not be a good candidate for an arranged marriage. However, through the processing of her trauma and remaining adventurous spirit, Phoebe began taking to the streets as an urchin. Her hobbies included eavesdropping, petty theft, and other pastimes of the city’s vagrant youth. She became quite adept, learning many skills through practice or second-hand observation, but she grew stifled by the inequalities and rigor of lawful Athenian life. Taking her leave from the city, Phoebe once again boarded a passing ship, and embraced the life of an itinerant mercenary.

Now, as an adult, she has continued along that path. Her travels about the Mediterranean have made her many friends and enemies, and she has become renowned as the Owl for her perceived wisdom, guile, and proficiency as an assassin. Despite her bulky figure and brusque attitude, Phoebe possesses a sharp tongue and deceptive sneakiness – though even with her bloody line of work, she’s known to be a compassionate soul. Phoebe despises inequality and injustice, and many times has taken contracts out of personal conviction besides simple pay. She met her longtime traveling companions, Eva and Laodice, aboard a pirate ship under the legendary captain Sofia the Gorgon, who acted as a notable mentor to the trio early in their careers.

Evaechme / Eva the She-Wolf

Appearance: Eva is a slender woman with a figure that evokes Artemis herself. Her skin is a rich tan from her long treks beneath the open sky, and her hair is a sun-bleached platinum, long and tied back in many braids in a style favored by huntresses and sailors. She has a missing left eye, and one eye of a blue-green hue like that of the sea, completing her naturalistic appearance.

Preferring light garments of hide, Eva’s outfit is a layered collection of soft leathers, totemic charms, and pelts taken from her many hunts. She prefers comfortable attire that provides protection from the elements but maximum flexibility for climbing, running, and stalking. Her weaponry includes a sabre, a javelin she may also use as a walking stick, and a large bow of olive wood and antler.

Bio: Born on the island of Mykonos to simple farmers, Evaechme always longed for something more in life. Though she did not hate her family, she despised being trapped in her place of birth, and stowed away on a ship to nearby Delos in search of adventure. She found it when, after being arrested by the Delian port authority, she was taken in by a priestess of Artemis. The priestess was sympathetic of Eva’s plight, and offered her a position as one of the Huntresses – military servants to the Cult of Artemis. Eva accepted and was sent on another ship with her new sisters to Brauron in Attika to train. Evaechme swore a vow of celibacy and was inducted into the ways of hunting, survival, and the mysteries of Artemis. However this too in time became dull to her, and to the anger of many of her sisters Eva left on a pirate ship bound for Lesbos some years later and started a new life as a mercenary.

Evaechme is defined by her utter inability to ever be satisfied, and the fact that she is a culmination of all her life experiences. She offers many insights and derives much comfort from various rituals and hobbies she picked up as a peasant, as a Huntress, and as a pirate, but she holds no strong conviction to any one cause. Though a very spiritual and superstitious soul, she never neglects to pursue what she wants, or break from social norms. She is also prone to biting off more than she can chew in search of a challenge, and her initial compulsion to team up with Phoebe and Laodice came from her realizing the value of having trusted allies.

Eva is quite fond of animals and has at various points in her life had pet cats, dogs, raptors and other birds, wolves, and wildcats.

Laodice the Aetos / the Bronze Eagle

Appearance: Laodice is a large and fearsome woman whose figure speaks to the very lineage of Herakles. Her features are strong and androgynous in their hard angles, and her scarred skin is a rich olive, though not so dark as her companions’. Black hair is kept in a somewhat military hairstyle, with the front and top cropped into short curls, while the excess on the sides and back is braided into a “circlet and tail” design.

Referred to on occasion as the Colossus of Amazonia, Loadice’s pride is a set of armor made of modified pieces looted from many opponents, rivaling the ancient skill of Mycenae in its design. The armor, of polished bronze, features a cuirass and armored tassets, along with shin-guards and vambraces. Providing additional armor are two light but solid bronze slab-pauldrons reinforced with leather, bronze torcs acting as rerebraces, and a Corinthian helmet featuring a slight pointed bronze crest and two wing-like plume crests. Beneath, she wears simple garments of thick cloth and leather to provide padding and comfort. Her main weapon is a large maul with a flanged bronze head – the ridges allowing oil-soaked linens or rope to be affixed around the mace and ignited for intimidating and deadly effect.

Bio: Born in Macedon to unknown parentage, Laodice was raised as a mercenary from a very young age by a rough band of travelling warriors. Laodice’s pseudo-father was a northerner who nonetheless claimed to be descended from all manner of mythical heroes and was as quick to violence as he was to laughter. Though far from an ideal childhood, it nonetheless served to mold Laodice into an Amazonian terror to rival any man. She became renowned for her great strength, being called Man-Maiden and The Aetos – the Bronze Eagle of Zeus. Laodice’s life was typical for that of a mercenary from then on, and though far from a pinnacle of refinement, Laodice enjoyed defying other’s expectations of her, going out of her way to try and train her mind to be as notable as her physique. As with those men she was raised under, Laodice’s main hobbies include fighting and drinking, and she is a staunch believer in the power of the gods, holding particular reverence for Athena and Persephone.

Laodice’s major break came during her service under Sofia the Gorgon, where she managed to accrue a wealth of experience, notoriety, and gold. Towards the end of this phase in her life was when she obtained her Colossus Panoply and Hammer of Storms – her impressive armor and bludgeon which she intends to turn into items of legend through her use of them alone. Loadice is the anvil which any enemies struggle to break, leaving themselves tired and distracted for the three-way assault of the Owl, the Wolf, and the Eagle.

#ancient greece #classical greece #OC #my OC #sapphic

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raywritesthings · 4 years

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Torch Song

My Writing Fandom: Arrow, DCU Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Circe, Thea Queen, Felicity Smoak, John Diggle, Barry Allen, John Constantine, Mari McCabe Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: When Circe decides to put Team Arrow in its place for daring to stop a sorcerer like Damien Darhk, Laurel must reveal something long-hidden about herself to restore Oliver to his rightful form.

None of them had seen it coming. Of course, none of them were all that knowledgeable about magic-users they hadn’t personally met, so it was hard to prepare for a sorceress out of mythology.

Laurel wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t an assumed name on the part of the self-styled supposed Circe. But that didn’t matter much when her powers were the same as in the book and she’d chosen to demonstrate them on Oliver.

“Think you’re clever enough to defeat a sorcerer? Try fighting your way out of this.” The unknown woman had cackled before zapping their teammate with a jet of light. They’d all watched in horror as Oliver had shrunk, the bow falling to the ground and arrows spilling from the quiver as a pig tripped over the shafts, oinking and squealing with distress.

Thea had screamed and launched herself at Circe, who had disappeared in a blinding flash before the smaller archer could make contact. Laurel had been more concerned with stopping the newly transformed Oliver from running blindly down the alley.

“Ollie? Ollie, if you’re in there, just calm down,” she’d tried. It had been impossible to know if he could understand the words, but he slowed to a stop in front of her long enough for John to heave him up into his arms.

They’d brought him back to the base and immediately began calling around to their friends to see if anyone might know some way to undo the damage. Laurel was currently on the phone with Vixen, though it wasn’t sounding promising.

“My speciality is connecting with the spirit of an animal, not literally changing into the animal. Much less changing another person. And the research I’ve done into magic so far hasn’t extended to the Mediterranean. I’m sorry, Laurel, I wish I could help.”

“That’s okay. I had to try.”

The elevator dinged just as she hung up, and Laurel was shocked to see Felicity stride into the room, the first time since she’d quit the team a few weeks prior.

“Where is he? I have got to see this. Oh!” Felicity drew up short upon spotting the pig who was currently penned in via strategically placed chairs and very unhappy about it. “This is such a Spirited Away moment right now. I can’t even tell if it’s him.” She spun around to face them. “So what did he do to get cursed by a witch?”

“Nothing,” Thea replies with a hand on her hip. “That lady showed up and cursed him out of nowhere. How do you even know about it?”

“I called her,” said John. “We need Constantine’s number, so I thought she could get it off Oliver’s phone.”

“We don’t need his phone,” Laurel countered. “He gave me his number on a card when he was here.”

Felicity’s eyebrows raised in interest. “And did you call him?”

“Haven’t needed to. Until now.” Laurel went for her purse, digging around in it until she located the card. She smoothed out the corners and dialed the number, waiting as it rang.

“Hello?”

“John? It’s Laurel Lance. We met last fall.”

“Laurel, love! Not that I’m not happy to hear a birdsong right now, but I’m headed into a tricky bit of work. Can we make this quick?”

“Okay.” She drew in a breath and said in one go, “Oliver’s been turned into a pig by a woman who claims to be Circe for being able to beat Darhk.”

Constantine let out a low whistle. “Circe, eh? She’s impulsive like that.”

“Then she’s real?” Laurel asked in bewilderment. It was hard to imagine that a character from a story — one of the few novels Oliver had ever read in school, ironically enough — could be a real, breathing person. And still alive, no less.

“Yeah, but listen, she’s in it for the ego, really. You lot stopped Darhk, and she must have felt a bit threatened, right? Wants you to ‘know your place’,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

That seemed to fit with the woman’s behavior.

“You’re going to have to appeal to her sense of vanity,” he continued.

“How do we do that?”

“There’s a club she frequents. I’ll send you the address. Take Oliver there and beg her to change him back. She’s the only one who can, stuff like that. She may want something from you in return, though make sure of what it is before you agree to it. That ought to satisfy her.”

“Okay,” she replied. Laurel knew it would have been a lot to expect him to drop everything and come help — assuming her could even break the curse — but she was not enthusiastic about going back to the sorceress who had done this to Oliver.

“Good luck, love. And give Oliver a scratch behind the ears for me.”

“Goodbye, John,” she said, ignoring the request before hanging up. “He says we have to ask Circe to undo it.”

“Why would she?” John asked.

Laurel sighed. “Apparently, it will prove to her that she’s more powerful than us and calm her down.” Her phone buzzed with a text. The Amphitheatre. “Constantine just sent me the address of the club she frequents. It’s on Mykonos, so we’re going to have to take some days off.” She could always call in a couple personal days. She hadn’t used any yet this year and was unlikely to later.

“How are we going to transport Oliver?” Thea asked, and they all frowned. None of them were exactly familiar with the procedure of getting a farm animal cleared for travel.

“Barry could just run us,” Felicity pointed out. He’d want to help out.”

Laurel grimaced. She’d been hoping to avoid involving Team Flash. They made light of things at the best of times, which was good, but would Oliver see it as making fun of him? She could tell he valued that role of mentor to Barry and didn’t want him to feel embarrassed around the other hero after this. But it was the quickest way to get him back.

Felicity was already calling besides. “Barry, we could really use your help right now. It’s about Oliver.”

Fast enough, the Flash was in their base. “What’s going on, guys? And uhh, what’s with the pig?”

“Oliver’s the pig,” Felicity explained, and Laurel couldn’t help noting she seemed happy to say so. She rubbed her temples; now was a bad time for the two of them to be on the rocks.

Barry whirled back around to gape at the enclosure of chairs. “What happened to him?”

Oliver made a sort of squealing noise, and Laurel couldn’t tell if that was meant to be in answer or if he was simply agitated by Barry’s fast movements. There was little way of knowing just how cognizant of everything he was, though she could only hope for his sake that it wasn’t all that much.

“This witch named Circe cursed him, and we gotta go talk to her,” Thea added. “Laurel’s got the address.”

To his credit, Barry took all this information in stride with only a few more shocked looks here and there. “Okay. How many people are going?”

All of them raised their hands, even Felicity. “I mean, I can’t pass up meeting the actual Circe,” she defended.

“Digg, you first, then Oliver?” At John’s nod, Barry and he were gone in the blink of an eye. With another zip of electricity, Oliver disappeared from the makeshift pig pen. When Barry next returned, he paused with his hands on his knees.

“I think he’s heavier as the pig,” he wheezed.

“Well, I should be much lighter,” Felicity remarked, walking up to him. Barry scooped her up, and they were gone.

“Have you ever traveled via speedster?” Laurel asked Thea in the ensuing silence, unable to help a bit of nerves.

“Once. It was disorienting, but awesome.” That was all Thea got to say before she, too was whisked away.

Laurel replaced her mask over her eyes and shook out her wrists, trying to feel ready.

The next thing she knew, there were arms at her back and under her knees as everything blurred together. Laurel squeezed her eyes shut until she felt herself placed back on her feet.

They stood outside what counted as the stage door to the Amphitheater. John struggled to hold Oliver in order to keep him from running off again while Thea patted the pig’s head in an effort to try and calm him.

“Thanks, Barry,” Laurel said. “You don’t have to stay if you need to get back.”

“You’re sure?” When she nodded, he returned it. “Alright, call if you need me.” With that, he was off.

Felicity looked around from where she’d been peeking through the stage door. “Wait, did Barry just go? How do we get back?”

“A plane? He’s got a whole city to protect by himself,” Laurel pointed out. “And I’m not sure putting him up against Circe is going to make it look like we’re begging.” She might be more likely to see a metahuman as a threat, and then who knew what she’d turn the rest of them into?

Laurel joined Felicity at the stage door, easing it open more. “We can do this, Felicity. The whole team.” It would probably do Oliver some good to know Felicity had come all this way with them. He’d been struggling to stay positive since the breakup, but maybe this predicament he’d been put in would draw the two exes back together. Laurel could only hope for that much for him.

She held the door open for the others, then followed them through the backstage area, following the sounds of singing.

“Circe’s back in town!”

Thunderous applause sounded from out in the house, and they heard the sorceress speak. “Thank you! Oh, my adoring public!”

Thea glanced back at her with a disgusted look Laurel felt herself. Before she could respond in kind, they heard their quarry exit the stage for the side of the wings they were waiting at the edge of. Circe’s eyebrows raised as she stopped short at the sight of them. “Well, that was fast.”

“We want him back,” John answered plainly.

“Please,” Laurel stressed. “We didn’t mean any offense to the magical... world? by stopping Darhk. He came to our city and was hurting our people. We did what we had to, and it was very difficult. We wouldn’t want to fight anyone with that skill, or better, under ordinary circumstances.”

Circe appraised her, though her eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with Felicity. “I don’t remember you.”

“I don’t do any fighting,” Felicity said quickly. “Just here for moral support and to, um, see you! Wow, you’re really… real.”

“None of us can do magic, so you’re the only one who can help us,” Thea continued in the wake of the awkward pause their friend’s rambling had caused. “So will you?”

Circe hummed in thought. “No, I don’t think I will. Not with just that.”

Laurel opened her mouth, ready with another appeal, hands already clasped together, when the woman held up a hand.

“Convince me why I should bother restoring him. What do you stand to lose, here? What place does he hold in your heart? I want to be moved to tears. I want — a performance.” The sorceress gestured up on stage.

“We have to sing about Ol— uh, Green Arrow?” Thea asked skeptically.

“Oh don’t worry. The microphone’s enchanted. It will take your thoughts and feelings and put them to the right music. I’ll even allow you to decide amongst yourselves whose solo debut this will be.”

“Like a magic karaoke? Weird.” Thea shrugged and made to step forward. John, however, shook his head since his arms were too full of pig to reach out. He motioned them all to retreat into a sort of huddle, Oliver’s hooves jutting out into the middle of it while he squirmed around.

“Thea can’t be the one who does it. If this magic is about pulling the truth out of her, she might let slip that Oliver’s her brother, and we don’t know who these people all talk to,” he pointed out in undertone. “It could get back to Ruve, and that makes her anti-vigilante task force's job that much easier.”

Thea grimaced but seemed to acknowledge the point. As one, their group looked to Felicity. She backed up a step.

“Oh no. No way.”

“But Felicity—”

“I have terrible stage fright. And besides! I don’t really have the best feelings about Oliver, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You can’t want him to stay a pig forever,” John said.

“No, but I also can’t really think of anything flattering enough to make a sorceress change him back. I mean, I’m more likely to get up there and sing ‘I Will Survive’ at this point.”

“Felicity, come on.”

As John and Felicity continued to argue, Laurel watched Oliver’s anxious eyes, still blue despite the transformation. He seemed to sense the tense atmosphere, even if he couldn’t know they were fighting over his very fate. How could they be this close and not be ready and able to get him back? He would do it for any one of them, she knew that in her bones. No matter what it cost him. She couldn’t worry about what it might cost her.

“Why don’t you do it?”

“I’m the only one strong enough to hold him.”

“Well give him a tranq dart or have her make a cage or something, I am not—”

“I’ll do it.” Laurel felt just as surprised as the others looked to hear the words come out of her mouth. But she couldn’t exactly take them back. “We need Oliver, and he needs to have this spell broken.”

Thea bit her lip and looked about to say something, so Laurel pulled away from their group and stepped back towards Circe. “I’ll sing.”

A wide smile broke out on the sorceress’ face. “Excellent. Of course, we want you in something a little more suited to the stage.” She snapped her fingers, and Laurel felt a sort of strange rush energy as her jacket, undershirt and pants were suddenly replaced by a strapless floor-length evening gown in all black. Her fingerless gloves remained, though the fishnet pattern extended to her upper arms.

“I’ve left the mask,” Circe said before she had even finished bringing a hand to her face to check it was still securely in place.

“Where exactly are my real clothes?”

“It’s an illusion, my dear. It will lift once you’ve upheld your end of the bargain.”

Right, she still had to sing. Laurel exchanged brief, worried glances with John and Thea, the latter of whom still looked like she was holding back from saying something. Something Laurel had a feeling Thea had been suspecting for some time. It didn’t matter; her suspicions were about to be confirmed one way or the other.

Circe’s hand pressed against her back as she guided Laurel out of the wings with her. Right away, a spotlight hit them and she resisted the impulse to shield her eyes as she was guided towards center stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Circe said, her voice somehow magically amplified. “A special songbird all the way from the West Coast of the United States. The mysterious, melodious Black Canary!”

A smattering of applause rose from the audience. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. At least no one seemed to question the mask.

As soon as she stepped up to the mic, Laurel felt a powerful wave of something wash over her as an unseen orchestra — perhaps no one was playing, perhaps it was all magic — started up with a swell of mournful notes. Laurel didn’t know how she knew when to come in. It was as Circe had said. She just did.

“He doesn’t say the things he should. He acts the way he thinks he should.” She closed her eyes, feeling herself being pulled into the music, for lack of a better word. Into the truth of this song. “But all the same… I’ll play this game his way.

As long as he needs me.” Laurel could feel a slight shake to her voice as she sang. “Oh yes, he does need me. In spite of what you see, I’m sure that he needs me.”

It was everything she had ever felt these last few years. The weariness, the doubt, the bone-deep certainty that, nevertheless, she had to continue on.

Laurel teared up when the word finally came falling off her lips. “The love I feel inside. The love I have to hide. The hell—” She nearly felt choked. “—I’ve got my pride! As long as he needs me!”

She didn’t dare look at the others. It was easier facing the audience, backlit by the spotlight on her and making them indistinct. There was going to be no coming back from this when it was all said and done. The team would all know her secret, even if Oliver didn’t. And how long could that feasibly last?

She was the Black Canary, but she was singing her swan song.

---

Oliver didn’t know what had happened to him. One minute they’d been patrolling the streets when a woman in a green dress had appeared out of nowhere, declaring him an upstart for daring to defeat a sorcerer like Damien Darhk, and the next minute — well, the woman in green was still there, but the streets were gone. Instead, he found himself on hands and knees in the wings of some sort of theater as an orchestra played under a woman’s singing.

He felt John’s hands pull him up and he was crushed in an embrace for a moment. “Good to have you back, man.”

Someone reached for his hand, and as he squeezed back automatically he could tell it was Thea’s. Over John’s shoulder, he saw Felicity watching him for a moment before looking down. When had she joined them?

“What just happened?” He asked. Some time had clearly passed. But what had he been doing? What had his team done to get him back?

“Shh!” The very sorceress who had cursed him hissed at them, eyes never quite leaving the stage. And the more he paid attention, the more it occurred to him — was that Laurel’s voice?

Oliver felt drawn towards the edge of the wings, mouth falling open as he took in the sight of Laurel in her mask and a beautiful dress, standing before a sea of strangers.

“I miss him so much, when he is gone,” she sang, a delicate sweetness in her voice that was at odds with the tortured look on her face. “But when he’s near me, I carry on… The love I feel inside. The love I have to hide. The hell—” He saw her struggling. “I’ve got my pride! As long as he needs me!”

“What is happening?” He demanded in a low tone. Who was making her do this? And why?

“Payment for reversing my little spell on you,” the sorceress answered just as softly. “I asked them to demonstrate just why they wanted you back. Needed you, even,” she added, her eyes sparkling.

Oliver’s head whipped back to look at the others. John’s gaze, the little he could make of it from behind his friend’s helmet, was lowered and somber. Felicity’s head shook side-to-side sadly, though the tips of her ears had turned very pink. Tears leaked from under Thea’s domino mask as her lips pressed tight together.

His fists clenched as he turned back to the woman who had started all of this. “You undid the spell. She can stop now.”

But the sorceress extended an arm across his path before he could march out onto the stage. “I undid it so you could listen,” she explained as though he were a child. Then she let out a dreamy sigh. “After all, it’d be a shame to waste such a torch song.”

Laurel’s torch song. Laurel had been carrying a torch all these years… for him? His breath caught and a lump rose in his throat.

“If you are lonely, then you will know,” Laurel’s voice came out soft, then slowly grew. “When someone needs you, you love them so…” She carried the note through, her head raising with defiance in the set of her jaw. Strong to the end. “I won’t betray his trust, though people say I must. I’ve got to be. True. Just…” the music faded out for a breath, and it was into that silence that she declared, “As long as He! Needs! Me!”

The music rose, flooding his ears. Laurel held the note until she couldn’t, until her legs — which he could only guess had been trembling for some time — gave out from under her, and she landed on her knees.

Oliver rushed forward without thought, distantly hearing a door slam behind him somewhere. He reached Laurel’s side and pulled her up, her eyes widening at the sight of him. “Ollie?”

There was so much, too much that he wanted to ask, but all that came out as he looked into her eyes was, “I’m sorry.” How could he have been so blind?

“Thank you, thank you all!” The sorceress declared, standing near the floor lights. She snapped her fingers, and Laurel was suddenly wearing her Black Canary suit again.

This seemed to jolt her, for she ripped out of his hold and bolted off the stage. Oliver hurried to follow, just catching up with Thea and John on their way out.

“Laurel!” His sister was calling.

“Felicity already left, now this,” John muttered under his breath. He cast a look Oliver’s way as he drew up beside the other man. “What are we gonna do, Oliver?”

He didn’t have an answer. His mind was still racing. Felicity had shown up when he’d fallen prey to a curse, but she was leaving now. Laurel had confessed to feelings he hadn’t thought she possibly still held and now seemed terrified to be in the same room as him. What had he done?

Felicity was nowhere to be seen when he exited out into a back alley where Thea stood, one arm around Laurel and their heads bent close together.

“Where exactly are we?” He asked.

“On an island off of Greece. Long story. Look, we gotta figure out which way Felicity went.”

Scarcely had John finished speaking, when a trail of lightning announced Barry’s arrival.

“Hey, you’re you again!”

“You’re here,” Oliver replied, thrown by the sudden appearance.

“Oh, well Felicity called for the ride back, so I figured I’d double back here to get the rest of you. Glad they broke your pig curse.”

“Pig curse?”

“Never mind, Oliver. Barry, you gotta get him back to the base to catch Felicity,” John said, adding in an undertone, “Thea and I’ll talk to Laurel.”

Oliver looked up in alarm. “Wait—”

But his surroundings were whisked away as he felt himself carried over land and sea, only for it all to come crashing back into solid, jarring shape. A crackle of electricity and Barry was gone again, leaving Oliver to notice Felicity waiting at the elevator.

“I—” He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Was she upset? And why? Oliver couldn’t begin to wonder when Laurel’s stricken look and voice were the only thoughts in his head. “I’m sorry if this has made things more difficult,” he decided on lamely.

“We broke up and realized we couldn’t work on a team together, Oliver. Things can’t get more difficult,” she stated bluntly. “I thought there was something wrong with me. After all, Laurel could still work with you, right?” She laughed, but it wasn’t a funny one. “Now we both know why.”

“I didn’t know.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t known.

“Of course you didn’t. No one in their right mind would ever want someone to know they still had feelings for them after they broke their heart. Just… just try to be empathetic with her, alright? I would want to die if I were in Laurel’s shoes right now.”

He swallowed heavily. Was that really how Laurel would feel?

The elevator doors opened, and Felicity stepped inside. “For the record, you weren’t a very cute pig.” Then they closed, and Oliver could only watch the lights signify that it rose up to the ground floor and let her out.

He slowly wandered back towards the conference table and sat, resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. It didn’t seem as though the others were coming back for a while. Probably consoling Laurel. Something in him ached.

Why had he been forced back here to try and rehash something that had already fallen apart? Felicity had walked out on him twice now, had he really needed a third time? He just felt hollow when it came to the end of his engagement. There was nothing left to feel. Not when his oldest friendship might be on the line half a world away, depending on how badly Laurel’s secret being exposed affected her.

Laurel… Laurel had always been there when he needed her. Because he needed her, he realized now with bitter irony. He had asked her all those years ago at Tommy’s grave, and she had never disappointed him. No matter how many times he’d disappointed her in return. He didn’t know how it could be that she could love such a man like him. A man of the island.

Beneath the shock, beneath the sudden rush of regret, there was a quiet awe beginning to grow. Laurel loved him. Him, Oliver Queen. She had seen the man he was plain as day, had fought him, been hurt by him and called him out on all his lies and hypocrisies. Yet she loved him still.

A strange sound left him, a stifled sob. His shoulders shook, and Oliver found himself crying in a way he rarely let happen. He could count the times on one hand since he’d gotten back, perhaps even since the island. Usually they were times of extreme grief, but that wasn’t what this was. There was a sense of loss, yes, but only of time. Time was something he could make up for.

He was wiping his cheeks dry when John at last appeared in the base, Barry presumably going back for their remaining teammates. “You alright, man?”

“Fine.” Oliver stood. “How’s Laurel?”

“Calmer. Look, you might wanna just take a walk round the block for a bit till Thea can get her home.”

“I need to talk to her.” No more putting it off, no more running away.

“You were supposed to be talking to Felicity,” his friend reminded him.

“John, I let her go.” It was what she had asked of him last month, and he knew that it had truly been the right call. Maybe he’d known it for a while, but it had taken tonight for it to finally sink in.

With another whoosh of electricity and wind, Thea stood in the base. “What are you still doing here?”

“Says he needs to talk to Laurel.”

“She doesn’t want a scene,” Thea said with a severe look that came straight from their mother.

“It’s not going to be a scene,” he insisted. “But I can’t just ignore what happened.”

Barry zipped into being with Laurel in his arms. He set her down on the floor and looked around. “Okay, all back. Everything okay? Is there anything…?”

“Go home and rest, Barry. And thank you,” Oliver told him. His friend nodded, but Oliver reached out and clasped his shoulder before he could depart. “Not a word to the others,” he added in a low voice.

Barry’s head bobbed up and down quickly a couple times. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then he was gone.

Laurel was gone, too, disappearing back into the changing stalls. Oliver headed that way as well.

“I think we should talk,” he called out.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“Exactly.”

He could hear things being thrown around, could picture her kicking her boots off out of some potent mix of anger and shame. Oliver sighed.

“Laurel, please?”

There was silence.

“Give me a minute,” was her request. Oliver nodded to himself and went back to the main area, passing John on his way to change as well.

Thea stood by the conference table looking worried. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay and the realizations he’d had about himself and his feelings — but this was something Laurel needed to hear first. She was owed that.

Laurel slowly made her way towards them in her civilian clothes, hands flexing with nerves.

“Go ahead and change,” Oliver asked his sister, before indicating the side room with a tilt of his head. Laurel nodded and followed him.

“If we are actually talking about what happened, I just want to make clear that it doesn’t change anything,” Laurel said right away the moment they were alone. “My feelings are just that. They’re not some declaration of intent.”

He knew what was on her mind; Tommy, and the way things had ended between the three of them. He could appreciate the irony of their roles being flipped now, and the irony, too, that they always seemed to end up back here.

“I understand,” he said out loud. “If you don’t want to address it, we don’t have to.”

“Okay,” Laurel said with clear relief.

“I was thinking we could address my feelings.”

She fixed him with a look, and he only very narrowly kept a straight face. Slowly, he began walking towards her, closing the gap between them.

“I feel grateful for what you did to help me. I feel angry and sad that you were forced to reveal something about yourself you’d kept secret. And—” he drew up to her at last, watching Laurel watch him with an intensity in her gaze. “—I feel lucky, selfishly lucky, to know how you feel about me.”

“Ollie…” She stared up at him in disbelief.

He nodded. “It’s still gonna take me some time to heal from what happened with Felicity. I know I shouldn’t rush that. But Felicity and I, we began because I had thought I’d lost my chance with the first woman I ever loved. I had no idea that wasn’t true.”

“What are you saying?” She asked, barely above a whisper. He thought of the way she had poured herself out in that song and how her voice had been a very force. He wanted to give her that strength back.

“I’m saying that you are a part of me, and I will always need you. And if you can just give me some time…”

She reached out and touched his cheek. “Whatever you need.”

Oliver placed his hand over hers, then turned his face into it, ghosting his lips over her palm. He heard her suck in a breath, and he lowered their hands before pulling her gently into a hug.

Laurel rested there in his arms, head tucked under his chin, and he never wanted her to leave. All the reasons he had ever left ran through his head, and they all sounded pointless now.

��We’ll figure this out. I promise,” he murmured, and her arms shifted up his back a little. Then they slowly drew apart.

Laurel was smiling now, softly, and his heart felt full the way it had as he’d listened to her sing.

“You know, I never realized you had such a good voice,” he remarked, and grinned when Laurel ducked her head with a breathy laugh.

“I think it may have been the magic.”

“I don’t buy it.”

A throat clearing softly had them both looking up. Thea stood at the edge of the archway. “Is it okay?”

“It’s gonna be,” he said while Laurel nodded.

She walked over to join Thea. “Let’s call it a night.”

Thea seemed to take some assurance from whatever she saw in Laurel’s expression, for she relaxed and actually smiled in his direction. “Sure. Night, Ollie.”

“Goodnight,” he told them both.

Laurel exchanged a last, long look with him, and they left the base. With John having departed on his own it seemed, Oliver was left alone to change and to get ready for sleep. Yet it hardly felt as lonely as the other nights since he had moved down here.

He had people in his life who loved him. Friends, family, and Laurel. Always Laurel, who was both of the former categories in her own way and yet so much more.

She was home, and he was finally on his way back there.

#lauriver #laurel lance #oliver queen #laurel x oliver #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte

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