god and monsters

future king and current sixth year. for political reasons please refer to me only as olivier.

[dalenamaximoff]

● ● quarter

[dalenamaximoff]

she pulls away as suddenly as the words were out of his mouth. being such a public figure, though her name was known simply because she was dating someone known, there were constantly suitors, eyeing her, wanting to be titled as the man who ruined a royal relationship. never did she let things get to that point, that much was obvious, never one to lead someone on, never one to provide false never, not even one to allow flirting be confused with anything else. dalena pulls away because she does not want him to think, for a single, mind-numbing second, that there was more to their relationship than formalities.

“too? you love me, too?” she tries to work through the confusion, one word at a time. he could have loved her as a sister; but that was not realistic. too. her literary side knew what that meant, no matter how much she tried to deny, seek excuses, it meant one thing. he loved her the way his brother did. she’s angry because she feels trapped, like he had forced her into a corner, one that she had no escape from, not when she did not love him the way she knows he wants her to. she truly loved so few people in this world; charles would constantly have to vie for the number one spot from her father, from esme, from sebastian, “i love you olivier. just not like that. i’m sorry”

[ojcharming]

a part of him truly wishes he had kept the guise of twenty questions. eased her into the confession. allow her to lower her guard so to receive a more practical answer. instead she pulls away and he finds himself reeling in his increasing anger. she had every right to react the way that she was, but the hurt did not subside.

not like that. the words should hurt less though they don’t. these words strike an unfamiliar cord for him. she looks truly livid, he thinks, and with the last few ounces of courage he had in him, he kisses her. he lets go of her hands then, raises his own to her cheeks, gives her a look and crushed his lips against hers. there is an urgency to his kiss, his frail teenaged mind excusing his behaviour as maybe making out for a while will help him figure things out.

[valtersened]

Ella, you have more kindness in your little finger than most people possess in their whole body.

[alxarose]

“What was that face you just made?” She teased right back, her eyes crinkling at the corners from her eye smile. The Crown Prince was such a constant figure in her life that she considered him as one of her big brother figures growing up. “The best thing about being here is being away from the paparazzi and not needing the royal guards.” She smiled back; they both knew they could never escape that particular aspect of their lives. “You’re right, I suppose princess is better than how you called me with my whole name or worse…Lex-Lex.” 

[ojcharming]

he raises a hand to his chin, touching his face with his fingers, feigning a look of hurt. “what’s wrong with my face? cut me some slack, i know i’m no jason alfred but i don’t think i’m too bad” olivier laughs, his own eyes crinkling at how amused he felt saying that sentence. “i do miss the royal guards sometimes. they used to sneak me food when my parents weren’t looking” the crown prince’s health was of the utmost importance to everyone at the castle, olivier working around the issue by guilting guards into bringing him fast food when no one was looking. "lex-lex? there are people that call you lex-lex?!”

[summersalexis-blog]

at least it was just one eye. (` mumbles to herself, fumbling with the books on her arms ) do you want me to be like your eye or something? because i would totally ask for a compensation for my services. ( ` grins, freeing a hand and touching at the taller male’s eyebrow ) i didn’t poke you really, did i?

[ojcharming]

( ; takes books out of her arms, cradling them against his chest in an effort to help her ) what if it was two eyes? you almost blinded me and you want compensation? ( ; his hand raises to his eyebrow too, just to be sure his joke was only a joke ) i think i’m fine. but how about this: i’ll give you one of my brothers for compensation ( ; grins ) 

[dalenamaximoff]

● ● quarter

[dalenamaximoff]

(...)

“do i–do i love you?” if it was even possible, her confusion steeps, climbing with every second the question rests in her mind. she did love him. of course, the answer was absolutely obvious. dalena loved everyone in her life, different degrees separating them, but love nonetheless. even if eloise avoided her like the plague, even if jason liked to flirt/tease, even if cinderella fussed over her meals, even if the king liked to ruffle her heal, she loved each and every charming like they were her own family. maybe one day they will be. “of course i do! you’re family, olivier”

[ojcharming]

“i love you” he says, decidedly done with avoiding the conversation. twenty questions was too much of a discussion to have; he had one question. one single question that would either make or break him. regardless of the outcome, he would have his answer and this would help him move on. olivier repeats himself, “i love you. dalena petra maximoff. i love you, too.”

[dalenamaximoff]

● ● quarter

[dalenamaximoff]

what. did he–did he really just ask that? eyelashes flutter, heavy, confused, worried, why would olivier know, why would he care. perhaps it had to do with the family lineage. but no, dalena was far more interested in more than just a last name, she couldnt care less, if asked. she liked, loved, adored charles for more than that. had his mother asked about her? his father? sister? jason? what could possibly be behind this strange line of questioning.

swallowing again, this time the fear dissolving, replaced with worry and shock, she nods sheepishly. almost shyly, her eyes avert his stare again, focused on a strange crease in his hoodie, one she didn’t know could appear on cotton, “of course i do. jas is my–” she pauses, thinking, does he even deserve to know this. she rarely spoke of charles in a way that was not teasing, prefering to bully him, extremely private in their relationship, never allowing anyone to look at them from the outside in. the media seemed to enjoy dissecting them and she vowed to never give them something to talk about. “–he is my forever,–” though, this was not the media and olivier was a future brother in law, not a journalist “–my everything. he is, he is the prince charming to my cinderella”

[ojcharming]

it should have been expected, he realises, when the words he dreads were finally out in the open. the prince can barely believe that it still hurts. that after all this time, after countless years, he still cares. he wishes he didnt. eyes turn to look at their hands, still together, through the darkness. running a thumb over her skin, he smiles. this could have been them; in a different life, a different time. “prince charming to your cinderella” the laugh was not meant to sound so insulting but he knows that he did. a scoff more than a laugh. “that’s cheap. next question: do you love me?”

[ojcharming]

summersalexis​:

( ` makes a face, accepting the books gratefully and standing up ) if i wanted to i won’t be using books, you know. ( ` she moves her eyebrows in what she assumes is a suggestive way before laughing ) i’m sorry, did i happen to poke you or something?

( ; mirrors the face she makes with one of his own, hoping it at least looked half as adorable as hers did ) yeah. i’ve lost sight in one of my eyes now because of you. are you going to make it up to me? this eye was pretty important.

[dalenamaximoff]

● ● quarter

[dalenamaximoff]

olivier had always been so predictable, she thinks, sifting through years of memories, of interactions, both public and not, silent and not, trying to search for any inkling that this would have ever happened. her own boyfriend, charles, less than half an hour different from the eldest, never treated her as such, never made her feel as if she was a play thing, or man handled her, larger, burly, fingers wrapping around her petite wrist. dalena had never felt more scared, worried for her safety, than she did now. even as a child of quicksilver, she was not scared of things, but tonight, in his grasp, did she finally understand.

she gasps, quietly, trapped between his arm and his hold, awkward gaze averting the one that seems to read her every move, boring into her features, studying her, almost, if she could even call it that. she swallows hard, nervous, “o-okay? what, um, what game do you want to play?” she tries to pull her hand from his, politely, just in case he decides that this wasn’t what she wanted and tried to hurt her. he wouldn’t dare, she tries to argue internally, not her, not dalena.

[ojcharming]

it was to be expected. he would be surprised if she didn’t try to pull herself from this massive change in personality. olivier was gentle. he was polite. he was not someone who pulled girls along nor create a barrier before them. he sighs, softening his pose, though his arms and hands remain where they were. he can still only think of what his mother would say; his father, too, if he found out. he hoped they didn’t. he wasn’t olivier. he was oj, orange juice charming, at the end of his line. he was oj looking for a way out.

“twenty questions.” he offers to her question. he only had one question. a question that, against his better wishes, remained in his mind for over two years. but simply asking someone if they love you (more than their twin) was difficult so he begins with: “do you love charles?”

[ojcharming]

"your mum asked me to pass a message onto you." she held a hand up to stop him from interrupting her as she tried to remember. "okay wait, I knew I should've written this down somewhere."

the smile that pulls his lips is hard to resist. he lowers the hand that is held to his face with a smile. “liliana, you had one job” olivier jokes, reaching to ruffle her hair before taking her into a one-armed hug. “do you remember what it was about?”

[deerprinceluhan]

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[infinitblaq]

[ojcharming]

( ` sight obscured by the tower of books she's holding, she hears first than feel the books tumbling out of her grasp when she walks into something solid, knees buckling backwards until she's falling on her butt ) i'm sorry! ( ` calls out blindly )

(’ tries to catch her when she falls but finds himself grasping at nothing but air ) are you okay! (’ olivier bends to begin to gather what books he can, handing them to her when he has five in his grasp ) alex! watch where you’re going. you could take someone’s eye out with these books (’ laughs )

[ojcharming]

If people from Poland are called Poles, why aren't people from Holland called Holes?

“i’m not really sure,” nonchalant at the very serious question, olivier pauses to place a contemplative expression on his face. “it makes me wonder something though. why don’t they call half french, half greek people little freeks?”

[cxcharming]

Charles likes to believe he was a patient person. Understanding of those around him and concerned for the greater good. Olivier didn’t seem to believe the same, spitting out words to his brother like they meant nothing. Charles spoke French for no one, no benefit, other than his own and cannot help but feel offended that Olivier felt the need to say so. “Twenty two minutes” He repeats, his second can of beer now empty, crushed to a folded mess between fingers and thrown carelessly to the grass below them. Someone was sure to find a pile of alcohol tomorrow morning and blame the guards; someone was sure to be fired for the indiscretion. “Twenty two minutes means more than you even know. Look at us, Ollie, we’re fucking arguing over twenty two minutes. That’s how I know there’s a difference. You think we’re equal when we’re not. If you and I are equal, than kill me. Shot me right between the eyes. You can live your stupid life thinking that we’re all the same and we live in this wonderful world where everyone looks at me, or at Jason, or god forbid, at Eloise, the same way they look at you. That we all get the same, wonderful treatment. That no one looks at us and wonders how we’re going to compare to Crown Prince Olivier James Charming. That’s your lie. Don’t include us in that” Rarely did he look to defend his siblings, normally defending Olivier in arguments with their parents, but he was sick and tired of the charade.  

[ojcharming]

olivier knows there is no one on this earth that knows him better than charles. they did more than grow up together. they learned together, fought together, became adults together. while they ended up in completely different life paths, olivier as king and charles as a soccer star, he still thinks that they are the one and the same. he can’t understand why his twin seems to think so different. “if you don’t fucking stop bringing jason or eloise into this conversation i will push you off this ledge right now and cry bloody murder” there was a sense of hatred to his words. poison he had built up over time. “the world doesn’t look at them the way they look at us because they aren’t us charles. have you seen eloise? do you even talk to her? she’s nothing like us. she’s kind, with more courage than you or i combined. what about jason? do you even know what his favorite color is?” living by the idea that they were in this together, olivier would never admit to the differences between charles and himself. he’d much rather focus his attention on closing the bridge between his younger siblings and the twins. they were younger and he always felt he had to protect them; in turn feeling as if he failed them when he couldnt. “don’t you fucking dare include them in your lies. you and i, we can fight about this as much as you want but not them. this isn’t their battle. you know that.” 

[alxarose]

She laughed with him, obviously comfortable around him already. “Aren’t we all trying to do that?” It was hard to revert back to a sense of normalcy when you’re sense of normal was so vastly different from everyone else’s. “As for me, I’ve just been trying to get my student life sorted out, you know? It’s refreshing to be busy with something that doesn’t require our royal signatures or appearances.” She grinned. “And who are you calling princess, Mr. Cool-is-my-middle-name?” 

[ojcharming]

“some of us better than others” he winks, nudging her with his elbow. growing up together with an eternity of awkward birthdays between them, olivier was more than comfortable to joke around the youngest rose. he makes an unprincely face at the talk of royal apperances. “that’s one thing that i don’t miss about home. speeches and talks and the suffacating crowds! i could easily get used to this life.” he smiles, hoping that she realises he was only half serious. “why, i’m looking at you miss” 

[eloisecharming-blog]

See, he wasn’t even listening, look at that. Eloise blinks for longer than she should, eyes shut tight as she forces herself to get out of her head, smiling up at him, pristine pearly whites, when she opens them again. “I have many secret talents. You must’ve known that I have over twelve years of triangle under my belt” Address the elephant, do it, it’s obvious anyway. “Are you–did you have somewhere else to be?” 

[ojcharming]

a wayward stare meets her sentence. “eloise, are you okay? are you sick?” perhaps his worry was not well placed but she was correct, he had somewhere else to be. where exactly, he was not sure. but he knew he was late for something. “sort of. do you want to talk and walk?” olivier always hated being so unnecessarily rude to his youngest sibling. 

[dalenamaximoff]

● ● quarter

[dalenamaximoff]

it takes a bit of prodding but when she eventually pries herself from charles, she realises that fifteen minutes had past. eyes gloss over to her right, to the made up, un-slept, missing body of a bed that was supposed to belong to her boyfriends roommate, to his twin. too sleepy to look for her own jacket, one that she had shed when she arrived, she pulls on one of charles’ soccer sweaters instead, takes her phone and leaves the dorm room. 

careful steps lead her to the front, worried eyes search for the future king. he sits to the right, just like he had told her, hoodie over his eyes, head turned down. he looked nothing like the person she knew, the ruler or the brother or even the classmate that she had gotten well acquainted with over the past three years. “you look like a murderer” she jokes upon approach. she stays for a moment, shifting unsure weight between her feet, finally pulling herself to ask: “so what did you want to see me about that was so important it couldn’t wait until morning?” 

[ojcharming]

decidedly distracted by the fluorescent of his phone, the crown prince looks up at the sound of her voice. he laughs at her comment for a second before pushing himself off his seat and taking her hand in his. “come on.” he didn’t mean to sound so gruff, nor did olivier know he could sound so threatening, as he pulls her to a secluded part of the dorm building.

if only his mother could see him now. she would be so disappointed in her eldest; not only because of the way he was acting but because who he was acting in this way to. dalena was adored by his entire family which, as much as he denies, made their relationship so much harder. “listen dalena.” he says, pushing her against the wall, one hand interlacing into hers, the other raised beside her ear so he could lean against the bricks. “lets play a game?”