Dancing Through Life

Wren || Veela || Power Mimicry || Generally Amazing

[veelawren]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

Given what he already told her about the Hobgoblin fans, Hestia didn’t find it surprising to hear him say there was some truth in the things written, even if it wasn’t all truth. “Oh, I guess it’s like the Prophet and their war coverage.” There was some truths in that, just not always the full truth. Something she knew quite well given that she’d actually been at a few of the things covered. Things she tried not to think of. Especially not during conversations with people. Hestia didn’t see what could be funny about terrifying fans but maybe that was because she’d never encountered any. Despite his largely exposed life no one had caught on that he had a place he slipped away to and a friend who wasn’t involved in all that rock star business. Thank goodness for that too. Hestia did not want that sort of attention. It was weird enough when her friends found out she was friends with him. Connor and Regulus were the only ones who knew he came over, two people she felt confident wouldn’t be spreading that around. Wren had apparently not shied away from that sort of attention but perhaps it was good he had friends who were true and also knew about all of that.  Hestia was just glad to know he had other true friends and it wasn’t just her. Stanley needed all the true friends he could get. Even if she was the only one who still called him Stanley. She felt a little guilty that she’d been so stubborn and hadn’t stopped. Was she a good friend if she had continued to call him Stanley despite his insistence that Stanley was gone? It was only the fact that he’d signed his letters Stanley that made her feel like maybe it hadn’t all been selfish on her part to do it. She hoped anyway. Wren’s question surprised her. Here she was wondering if he wasn’t the better friend for calling him Stubby and being part of that world and he was wondering if it was better to call him Stanley. Or so his question made it seem to her. “I think maybe just call him what you normally do for now. Normally I’d say you should ask but it feels like things might be a little overwhelming now given how many things he has to make decisions on. He seemed a little lost.” Lost came out sadly because it hurt to know how lost he must feel. She felt helpless to do anything for that. All the things that needed decisions were things that he himself had to make. It didn’t matter what she or his other friends thought he should do. Or his parents. Or even some dumb contracts and lawyers. Stanley doing what other people thought had gotten him in this mess. Or deeper into it. Hestia knew his problems happened before Stubby Boardman or the Hobgoblins. She just didn’t know who or what caused them. Only that they’d gotten significantly worse the more popular the Hobgoblins got. “It’s good that he’s got mates like you and Rich who know about insane fans and all that other stuff. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to know that he has you,” she added with a smile.

Wren’s brows furrowed together when Hestia mentioned the war. He knew enough to know that she meant the wizards’ war, but it wasn’t something he’d ever paid that much attention to since he’d been under the impression it didn’t affect the Veela. Turned out he’d been wrong about that one. Another secret his aunt was keeping from everyone. Only frankly Wren had enjoyed not thinking the war would affect them a lot more than he liked knowing if those Death Eater people won they would be coming for the Veela with whatever shit was making them disappear already. But he couldn’t say anything about what the wizards’ newspaper was saying about it. So he just nodded and said, “I guess so.” Seemed like her assessment was probably accurate enough. And as for other things Wren didn’t know—what was he supposed to call Stubby now? 

He nodded at her answer, glad he hadn’t been way off base in wondering if going back to Stanley would be the best choice right then. Because Stubby seemed lost, and it struck Wren that was exactly how Thorn had described him a while back. It had pissed Wren off, at the time. Now he wasn’t so sure if Thorn had been wrong. But he also wasn’t lost the same way as Stubby was, lost to the point he’d nearly died twice now, all pale and hollowed-out. Wren couldn’t quite hide his surprise when Hestia said she was glad Stubby had him. Mates like you. Normally Wren would say everyone he spent time with was lucky. He still thought that, actually, he was a damn treat. But a friend? Maybe Stubby hadn’t had Wren as a friend the entire time they’d known each other, but Wren was doing his best to be one now. Maybe that counted. “I’m not sure how much he wants me here,” He admitted quietly. “I mean…we were never that close. Not like you two,” he added, because the fact she still called him Stanley and whatever nickname Stubby called her seemed to imply a closeness. “But I hope I can help a bit.” 

[veelawren]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

When he spoke in that quiet voice saying he too had been scared for Stanley, Hestia believed him. In fact she liked him a lot better for it. Because it felt honest and not fake like his smirk had felt. She smiled when it seemed like he accepted her apology. “I don’t know much about his fans,” Hestia admitted. “I went to some of their first concerts and everyone really loved them, but they weren’t scary. By the time summer came around again they were rockstars. Everything was different. I guess their fans too.  I just thought Witch Weekly was exaggerating all that. They always seem very….outlandish.” That felt like a good word for the sorts of thing Witch Weekly sometimes published. Hestia had read all the articles about the Hobgoblins at first, when they were still more or less about their music. Gradually even other magazines stopped writing only about the music. There was always some mention of partying, bad behavior, or rumors about who they were dating. Hestia stopped looking for articles because it made her uncomfortable to read rumors and salacious gossip about her friend. Now she wondered if she’d kept reading would she have realized sooner how bad things were. Poor Stanley. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with fans at the beach house. And he had two friends who knew about those scary fans and tried to protect him from them. Even better was the fact that it was someone he’d known for so long. She couldn’t help smiling hearing someone else call him Stanley. “So you knew him from before too! I didn’t realize he was still friends with people from school. I think that’s great. Do you find it weird having to call him Stubby to other people?” Hestia had always thought Stanley Bishop was a perfectly wonderful name. After all it was the name of her best mate. While Stubby Boardman was someone who threw parties Hestia wasn’t cool enough to go to. Sometimes it felt like calling him Stanley was the only way to remind him that they were friends. Especially when he acted like everyone wanted something from him, her included.

Wren quirked an eyebrow when she said she didn’t know much about his fans. That wasn’t surprising after the hospital, but it was still weird given how close she seemed to Stubby. Apparently she and Stubby didn’t talk about that stuff. Which actually, now Wren thought about it, maybe wasn’t that weird. Stubby was like Wren and Rich that way; they didn’t talk about things. It wasn’t clear yet if Stubby wanted to change that, at least with him or Rich. “They’re full of it, but there’s usually a bit of truth somewhere in there.” As there was in most lies. “And they’re dead on about some of the fans. Absolute psychos. It’s kinda funny sometimes, when they’re not terrifying.” Wren usually found it funny regardless, but in hindsight…well, some of that stuff was pretty messed up. Again there was that uncomfortable feeling Wren didn’t want to label guilt but probably was. And it stayed there when she kept talking all excited about Wren knowing Stubby from school. Was he still friends with Wren? Had they even really been friends at school? Wren didn’t think so. He just hoped maybe he could be a friend to Stubby—or Stanley?—now. Fortunately that wasn’t what she asked about. Instead it was Stubby’s name, which she clearly didn’t realize Wren had forgotten before today. Her question sort of confused him though. Did she think he’d been calling Stubby Stanley when other people weren’t around? “Er—I sorta call him Stubby all the time. I think I called him Stanley the first time I saw him after he left school, ran into him at an afterparty or something, but he said he wanted to be called Stubby. And he seemed pretty into it, so I just sorta went with it…” Wren gave a half shrug. It had been easy not to question it, easy to go along with it when Stubby Boardman became larger than life—at least in wizard terms. Now he wondered if that had been the right or wrong choice. “I’ve never heard anyone call him Stanley since school, at least until today,” he added. It had surprised him when she did. “Should we start calling him that again, do you think?” Maybe that was a question for Stubby, but this friend thing was complicated, especially with Stubby who seemed awfully fragile. Normally Wren didn’t worry about screwing things up—because he only did things he knew he was good at—and picking someone up from rehab who may or may not be open to becoming real friends was way outside his comfort zone. 

[veelawren]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

There was still something about this bloke that Hestia didn’t particularly like. Which felt unfair because as far as she could tell he was a good friend to Stanley. Even more so because it wasn’t based on anything the bloke had said or done. It was based entirely on appearances, Hestia felt terrible for judging people on things like that. There was just something fake about his charm. He was probably a nice bloke but the smirking and the charm put Hestia off. She preferred it when people acting real. Then again she didn’t know that he wasn’t acting real. Hestia tried not to think too much on it and instead quit judging the bloke. Especially because she was certain that the whole judging strangers thing was a bad side effect from the Order. It made her paranoid and apparently critical of these two strangers since she’d been judging them from the moment she heard they were there for Stanley. At least it seemed like it was probably a side effect. “Oh, sorry, Wren,” she said, ignoring his interesting bloke statement. Hestia didn’t want to know what made him interesting because she was certain it wasn’t something that she would find interesting. Again with the judging. Hestia found it easy to smile when he said there were no hard feelings. That was nice of him. She felt bad for judging him. Though she was surprised at his question. “Yes. After all I did threaten you both. I didn’t even know you. Or your intentions. I’m not usually like that. I like to give people the benefit of a doubt, and you two did show up for Stubby. I shouldn’t have expected the worst like that. I’m just so scared for him,” she admitted. She’d known Stanley had issues. Problems that could lead to terrible things. But the thought that he might die from potions never crossed her mind. Hestia felt terrible for not seeing just how bad things were sooner. Or for not realizing just how dreadful the Bishops were. Hestia didn’t ask what his idea of harsh was because if it was worse than that she’d rather not know. Instead she settled on something nicer. “How did you and Stubby meet? Are you a musician?” Maybe this bloke was in a band too. That would explain why he seemed upset she recognized one of them and not both of them.

Wren tried not to look as skeptical as he felt when she said she’d threatened them. Maybe she had threatened them, but Wren hadn’t felt threatened by anything she’d said. If anything she should be sorry for not recognizing Wren since she was apparently close enough friends with Stubby to call him Stanley without getting corrected the way Wren remembered getting corrected back when Stubby first became a thing. He hadn’t cared enough to remember Stubby’s old name after he’d finally gotten used to calling him Stubby, though. Which he felt uncomfortable about now. Was this guilt? Wren wasn’t a fan. Nor was he a fan of the fact he had, in fact, been scared for Stubby. Wren didn’t know what to say to that. Being real was hard enough with Ebony and Rich. He wasn’t sure how real he wanted to be with some stranger. But then the circumstances in which they’d met were very much real. “Yeah…me too,” he finally said in a quiet voice. “Anyways, it’s fine. I thought you might be some psycho fan at first, there’s so many of those it’d be dumb not to be suspicious,” he added with a shrug. Which was why Wren was not apologizing for wondering about her the same way she was apologizing for wondering about him and Rich. It just didn’t feel necessary, especially when they’d both done the same thing. Maybe she was nicer than he was. Wren still wasn’t sure where he was supposed to fall between real and not a jerk and nice. It felt like there was an awful lot of gray area in the middle of all that. Much easier to talk about himself, so it was a relief when she asked. “Nah, we went to school together. Stubbs—or Stanley then, I suppose—was two years ahead of me, but we ended up hanging around a lot of the same people.” Because Wren had just been that charming and popular. Never mind that their crowd tended to be leeches, which had maybe bonded Wren and Stubby more than he’d realized at the time given how much he’d enjoyed being admired. It was only recently he’d noticed Stubby actually liked that Wren took some of the attention off him. Was probably the main reason he hung out with Wren. While Wren had enjoyed basking in the attention Stubby didn’t want. “Guess you could say we reconnected after I graduated.” Reconnected didn’t feel like quite the right word, given they hadn’t ever really connected to begin with, but it was close enough—and Wren was without anything else to call it—that he was able to say it out loud. 

[veelawren]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

Hestia was not at all nervous about being in a strange bloke’s flat. If either of the blokes she didn’t know tried something she felt confident in her ability to defend herself. Instead she looked around the living room while Stanley went to get clothes with the one who looked familiar, Rich. There were very few photos, unlike Hestia’s flat. They all seemed to have some combination of the same three people. No family, at least not parents. There was also a lot of art, so much that some of the paintings were leaning against the wall instead of hung up. Was this bloke a painter? The brushes she could see on the kitchen counter suggested as much. And also that he used his kitchen possibly even less than Hestia did. They were interesting paintings, she didn’t really understand what the subject of most of them were. If the largest one hanging up was an indication she was probably happier not knowing. “OH.” He was naked. Hestia felt slightly embarrassed, cheeks turning a darker shade of their natural pink tint, and turned away only to realize that one of the blokes hadn’t gone with Stubby. “I hope there’s no hard feelings about my harsh words at the hospital,” she said moving towards him. “I was just worried for him. And you clearly were too, which is wonderful because he obviously needs friends that are worried for him right now. He said your name was Wrenny? That’s an interesting name.” While they were, seemingly, good friends of Stanley’s that didn’t mean they would be friends of hers. But Hestia was a friendly person so she couldn’t help trying to at least make things less awkward between them.

That had gone surprisingly well, in Wren’s opinion. Awkward as hell, which was a feeling Wren still was not used to despite having felt it a lot more often recently than he ever had in his life, but at least Stubby had left with them. Which was mostly Rich and that bird’s doing. That part—Wren standing back while other people did the heavy lifting—was not a new feeling. What was new was the fact that he’d sort of wished he could do more. That he hoped his just being there had helped, if nothing else. But of course it did! Wren was a Treat. Right. It was a relief to get out of that hospital and someplace more familiar, thought it was also weird that Rich’s flat was a place Wren considered familiar. That he recognized the kid in the photos as Rich’s kid brother, that Rich had actually let Wren give the kid a haircut. He recognized the bloke in the paintings as well, but Wren tried not to look at those. It was weird seeing a bloke he recognized naked on someone else’s wall. That didn’t stop him from snickering at the bird’s obvious surprise at the painting. Wren wasn’t surprised that wasn’t the sort of thing she was used to seeing. What did surprise him was what she said next. That Stubby needed friends. Did that mean they actually were friends? The fact that Stubby had gone with them suggested as much. There was certainly nothing about today that you couldn’t call real, either. Painfully real, frankly. And yet it felt like a much better use of a day than hanging around with Arnet would have been. The name Wrenny pulled him from those thoughts, and thank Merlin for it because really Wren was doing too much deep thinking lately. Even if he’d decided maybe that wasn’t a horrible thing, it felt like there should be some sort of daily limit and he’d passed that today before he and Rich even got to the hospital. Much easier to focus on the nickname. He wrinkled his nose. Wrenny was fine, he supposed, from Rich and Stubby. Maybe if Thorn or Ebony decided to call him Wrenny he wouldn’t mind that either. But he certainly didn’t want people to know him as that. “Wren,” he said, and then he smirked a charming Veela smirk. “And I’m an interesting bloke.” Yep, this was nicer than thinking about how they were at Rich’s flat because no one had even brought Stubby a change of clothes and they couldn’t get any from his flat in case Stubby’s shitty father showed up to do who knows what. “Anyways, no hard feelings,” he added, smirk softening a touch. But Wren didn’t want to let that sit there too long, so he quirked an eyebrow at her and added, “Was that really your idea of harsh?”

[veelawren]

vilarich​:

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

You’re all…. All what? Nice? Hestia hadn’t been very nice to either of them so probably not that. But for the life of her she couldn’t come up with anything to fit there. Maybe he hadn’t been able to either and that’s why he trailed off. Occasionally Hestia had thoughts she lost mid-way. Maybe that happened to him. Seemed reasonable. The fan thing, however, did not. Were his fans really like that? She knew the very few times she’d been to any of his shows, back in the early days of the Hobgoblins, they’d been enthusiastic but she hadn’t realized they were rude. Rude seemed a much nicer thing to say about strangers than crazy. Though if they would really sneak into a hospital she could understand the sentiment she supposed. “I don’t understand why anyone would do that,” she replied honestly. It did explain the bodyguards. She had thought they were there because Stanely had gotten tired of being grabbed at, which seemed terrible enough on it’s own. Sneaking into places, she really thought that was Witch Weekly nonsense. This bloke clearly thought it wasn’t. Hestia didn’t know if that was from experience or not. “Hmm, I guess that makes sense. Though it’s very rude. I hope he hasn’t been cornered on his own anywhere.” Poor Stanley. This rock star business was even more bizarre and terrible the more she heard about it. It made her wonder what other stuff Witch Weekly had gotten right about his fans if they really were the sort of sneak into places. And she was left wondering if she’d gotten something wrong about these two blokes.

“Oh goodness, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? How terrifically rude of me. I’m Hestia Jones. Friend, not fan.” She smiled over at the two blokes she still wasn’t certain if she trusted them to have Stanley’s best interest in mind or not. “Wait, that sounds rude. I do like his music. The Hobgoblin stuff as well. But we were friends before,” she added quickly. Hestia would never want to suggest she wasn’t a fan of Stanley’s music. He had always been talented, way before Stubby Boardman and the Hobgoblins.

Rich had shrunk back, carefully so it went unnoticed, when it seemed like this bird might know who he was. Hopefully she didn’t remember where she’d seen him before, he didn’t want to deal with having to be the Minister’s son right now. But he’d followed the conversation, even smirking when Wren said she was all before trailing off. He had a few ideas what Wren might have been thinking of. Watched with amused confusion when it seemed as if the pair of them were having two separate conversations. He didn’t understand how she hadn’t caught on that Wren was accusing her of being a psycho fan but she apparently hadn’t. And then there was that threat again. Did she think she sounded intimidating? She looked like the sort of person who cried if they stepped on a snail. Her name though was interesting. Only because he thought it almost rang a bell, more like brushed lightly against it. “Jones?” She nodded as she answered with a cheery yes. Why did that sound familiar? Hmm… “Never heard of you,” Rich settled on, deciding he must have heard it somewhere else. It wasn’t an odd name. She, or a family member, probably worked at the Ministry or something. She didn’t seem too upset hearing that Stubby hadn’t mentioned her. Or surprised at all. Maybe they’d gone to school together. Wren went there too but this bird did not seem the type that either Stubby or Wren would know. At least if she was some lying crazy it’d be easy to leave her sleeping in a chair without making a scene. Which was feeling like a real possibility.

Was this bird for real? Did she really not know how crazy Stubby’s fans were? Or was she just one of the crazies pretending not to know? That seemed like a lot from one of those crazies. Wren was starting to get a headache; this was a lot more thinking than he was used to. And her explanation of who she was didn’t help all that much either. A friend, not family. Or a fan. Or kind of a fan? That was confusing. As was that addition. The Hobgoblin stuff as well. The words made Wren remember that night he’d brought Ebony to the party, the first time he and Rich had talked for real. It was also the first night Wren had decided to try to be a real friend to Stubby, helping Rich get the other bloke out of the club before he could fuck himself up more. Clearly he’d found other ways. But at least it handn’t been with Rich and Wren. But they’d gone back to Rich’s place, and Stubby had played a song that was different from the stuff he played with the Hobgoblins. Was that what this bird meant? If it was, then she really must be a real friend and not a psycho. He glanced over at Rich, an unspoken question in his gaze when the other seemed to recognize the bird’s last name, but that was something he’d follow up on later. If the name meant something to Rich it didn’t ring any bells for Wren. And apparently Rich had never heard of her, so whatever reason he’d had for repeating her last name was something else. “Me either,” Wren said after Rich, not bothering to return the introduction because really it was her fault for not knowing who he was. “How do you know him, anyways?” A friend from before, she’d said. Wren supposed, in a way, he was sort of Stubby’s friend from before. Stubby had always been popular at Beauxbatons, charming and talented in a way that Wren had always thought screamed of some kind of Veela intervention. He and Wren had gotten on well there, too, for the same reasons they did after Stubby got famous. Only his name hadn’t been Stubby then, had it? Something with an S. Similar enough to Stubby that Wren was drawing blank now. Shit. He wondered if this bird knew. But he kept the fact he’d gone to school with Stubby to himself for now. Wren was inclined to believe she wasn’t a crazy after the other music comment, but if she tried to claim she knew Stubby from Beauxbatons—well, actually, Wren probably wouldn’t have remembered her from Beauxbatons. He knew all the people in his own year, even the very unmemorable ones, but outside of that….yeah, so much for that being a clue. Still, maybe her answer would give them some extra proof she wasn’t a psycho.

[veelawren]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

vilarich​:

Rich was annoyed when the bird walked towards them. He honestly did not feel like entertaining some ridiculous flirting. Yes they were attractive, it was only natural for a bird to want to flirt. Even boring, dull, little brown things like this one. The sort the Minister would probably be happy if he or Timmy ever brought something like her home. The fact that it was never going to happen, for either of them, was enough to help him with his smile. It started off well enough, he supposed. Being told he didn’t look like a bodyguard was a compliment…right? Only it devolved quickly. It took Rich a bit to catch on to the fact that she was threatening them, wasn’t she? He felt a bit like he’d been scolded by someone’s mum. But there did seem to be something in that. Wren seemed to think so too. Rich couldn’t help leaning over and asking Wren, “Are we supposed to frightened of the knitter?” What was she going to do, knit them an ugly sweater? As to who the knitter was, Rich differed in thinking from Wren on this one. He couldn’t help wondering if Stubby had a sister, one so dull he’d just forgotten to mention her. Except he’d met both of Stubby’s parents and this bird didn’t look like either. Or like Stubby in any way. Weird. He was surprised when Wren spoke up but Rich leaned back and let the other speak. Equally surprised when Wren decided to try intimidating the bird back. This was one way to pass the time waiting for Stubby he supposed.

Hestia had really hoped the unpleasantness was out of the way. Clearly not. Because she doubted the younger one was speaking to her out of pleasantness, no matter how his voice sounded. “No, actually I said he looked familiar. I’ve never seen you either,” she told him not offended at all by his implications that he’d never met her. Of course he hadn’t, she’d said that already hadn’t she? Hestia was sure she had. At least she’d meant to. She thought. It was hard to know for sure now. Just like it was hard to know what these two might be up to. She found the thought that Stanley was hanging out with blokes who could be unpleasant a disappointment. Clearly he wasn’t associating with the best of people, but Hestia had hoped there might be some that weren’t. Maybe there still was, just not these two. Maybe? Though he did make a good point about the autographs. “I agree it would be terrible for someone to try and get autographs from him at the hospital. You don’t think they would really do that, do you? I mean surely St Mungo’s wouldn’t allow it. I should hope anyway.” Perhaps she should have asked Simon or Lucy. Only then she’d have had to explain why she wanted to know and her lies always started out well enough but devolved quickly into a mess that was evident she didn’t know what she was doing. — Oh wait, he meant her wanting Stanley’s autograph? That actually made more sense. Right so that was probably why he threatened her. “Oh wait, you think I’m a fan? No. And of course I have Stubby’s best interests in mind. Why in Helga’s garden would I have been concerned about your intentions if mine weren’t good? That makes no sense. Please think about that.” She supposed she only had herself to blame for this unpleasantness. After all she’d started it. Should she apologize? Was she sorry? Hestia found she wasn’t. She would be if she found out she’d mis judged them. But right now she had no idea if she had. Only that Stubby seemed to have lot of not good friends and she was worried these two might be like that. Especially since they looked more like they belonged at a party than a hospital. Which was’t fair to judge someone on their looks. ….Shoot. “I apologize if I’m wrong about your intentions and am unfairly judging you. But it’s not like he— Well he never seemed to have party friends that were people who could be counted on.” Hestia almost said it wasn’t as if he was ending up at either of their flats after having too much but that felt like revealing something Stanley might not want revealed. “However, if I’m not wrong, well like I stand by what I said.” That was something. This intimidation business was rather nasty. Certainly not something she wanted to do again.

This time Wren actually was offended when she clarified that she recognized Rich and not him. Rich! Sure Rich was the replacement Minister’s son, but Wren was Wren! Wizards, couldn’t count on them to know who was really important. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought that Ebony would not approve if he said what he’d just thought out loud. Which did not help Wren’s irritation, it just added another pang of something uncomfortably close to guilt or remorse and it was all frustratingly unpleasant. “I guess that’s not surprising, seeing as you’re all…” Yellow, was the word that came to mind, but he just let the words trail off. Really what he’d said was only an insult if you valued being at the best parties or keeping track of who was at the best parties. Which clearly she didn’t, but she should! This was why he didn’t try! Except the fact that he and Rich—and this girl, maybe, if she wasn’t a psycho fan—were the only people here for Stubby right now made it hard to regret trying too much. Which was also annoying. Especially with the fun added knowledge that Stubby might not even want them to be here trying. 

Before Wren could get too far down that rabbit hole, though, the bird was speaking again, like she actually thought the thing about the autographs was some hypothetical and not about her. Was she daft? She seemed it, given her surprise at what crazy fans would do. “Are you kidding? Those fans are crazy, this wouldn’t be the first time one sneaked into a place she didn’t belong.” Once again Wren’s confusion was genuine; did she really not think that, or was she just playing dumb here? Maybe she really did think that, because it was sort of hard to doubt her surprise when she finally caught onto what Wren had been getting at. About time. Except there she went insulting him again! Why would she be checking up on them if she was a crazy fan? “Uh, maybe to get rid of us so you can corner Stubby?” He pointed out. Only the fact she seemed that confused about that as an option had Wren wondering if she wasn’t a crazy fan. But then who the hell was she? Wren was pretty sure Stubby didn’t have any other family. Some distant cousin, maybe?

The apology took Wren by surprise. There wasn’t really much that Wren could say about the Stubby not having party friends he could count on thing. That had pretty much been true, up until recently. But the point was now they were here for good reasons. And apparently so was she. Except she was also back to threatening them, which really felt like being threatened by a puppy. “...Okay,” Wren said, not at all sure what to do with all that. Or any of this. This whole thing was weird enough without some random knitting bird here accusing them of shit. “Who are you, anyways?”

[veelawren]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

vilarich​:

Rich tried not to laugh at what Wren said. He very nearly made a joke about the ugly hats driving people to drink to forget them before he realized that wasn’t in the best taste. Something he normally only thought about around Beck. Around others he tended to say whatever terrible things came to mind. Or he had. Lately he’d been thinking before speaking more. “I think you might have nailed it,” he said instead. A volunteer definitely seemed more likely than this bird knowing anyone in rehab. Rich was grateful that Wren was here. Not because he had someone to gossip about the disapproving bird. Moral support or something like it. Sure he could have gotten Davey — a relatively new development but he was certain Davey would have come — or maybe even Timmy but Wren was the right choice. They were the closest thing to friends Stubby had. If Stubby let them maybe they could actually be his friends. Rich hoped Stubby let them. Opening himself up to the chance of rejection wasn’t something Rich was used to. It had started with Timmy and now it seemed to be snowballing into everyone he knew. Or everyone he liked anyway. There were plenty he knew that he rejected so their approval was not wanting nor needed. Even though it had gone well up to now, it was still an uncomfortable feeling. This chance that he might get rejected. Stubby had done so once already. Somehow it felt like it might sting more coming from a sober Stubby than it had coming from a desperate for potions Stubby. Rich didn’t like it at all. “I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky she’s not furiously trying to make us ugly hats right now,” he said, trying to not dwell on the possibility of rejection.

Hestia had a feeling they were talking about her. It felt paranoid. Sort of like when she worried she was being followed as she walked through the market. Or that the bloke she’d passed on the way to her building was actually watching her. But, like both of those things, it also felt probable. There was a good chance she was followed when she went out or that her building was being watched. Just like there was a good chance they were talking about her. Funnily enough, just like when she thought she was being watched, it gave her courage. Only instead of continuing on her day pretending like she wasn’t bothered, today it was courage to get up and talk to the pair of them. “Pardon me,” she started politely. Manners mattered. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re here for Stubby. Are you mates? It’s just you don’t really look like bodyguards. His are always very strong looking and you two…well I’m assuming you’re friends of his.” From the looks of them party friends but Hestia didn’t say that. “I just wanted to say that I think it’s very nice of you to come and see him. Assuming that’s all you’ve come for. After all it would be rather terrible to pick someone up from rehab just to take him out to party. Absolutely horrid actually. Obviously, I don’t know either one of you, though you look vaguely familiar,” she told the older one. “Anyway, my point is if you don’t have the best of intentions towards Stubby you should go now. If something else were to happen to him and I found out you were involved in any way… well I can be positively unpleasant if I need to be. Something you’ll be smart to avoid finding out,” she finished sounding almost as stern as Professor McGonagall. “Good day!” With that she turned and went back to her seat. Hestia felt better for having warned them. She didn’t enjoy trying to intimidate people — this was the first time she’d ever attempted it and no, she did not enjoy it at all. But if it made them think before doing something that could put Stanley in harm’s way it was worth it.

Wren snickered at Rich’s comments about the bird. “Lucky Stubby’s on his way out,” he added with a smirk that he quickly schooled off his face as the bird got up and…oh, she was coming toward them. Okay. This felt normal, actually. Of course this random bird wanted to talk to the pair of them. Wren flashed his most charming smile, and it was only years of practice that kept that smile in place when she mentioned Stubby. So that’s what she was here for. Wren was instantly suspicious. And then confused when she started talking about Stubby’s bodyguards. Should he have been offended by her saying they didn’t look like bodyguards? Maybe he should have been, but frankly Wren’s ego was big enough that it would take more than some random bird suggesting he didn’t look tough to offend him. Especially considering ‘tough’ or ‘could be a bodyguard’ were never descriptions he’d tried for. And most of Stubby’s bodyguards were sorely lacking in fashion sense. Frankly Wren would be more offended if she did think he was a bodyguard. Wren was far too polished for that sort of physical labor. His brows pulled together as she went on, basically implying that they were here to take Stubby to a party. From rehab. Seriously? And who the hell was she? Just because she didn’t look like a typical Stubby Boardman fan didn’t mean that was out of the question. Anyways if she was a fan she was one of the crazies anyways, waiting out here for him and trying to scare his actual friends off. Or the closest thing Stubby had to actual friends, probably. Unless he’d been hiding one somewhere, but if he was it was doubtful it was some bird who liked to knit and wore uglier sweaters than Ebony did. Well—equally ugly, Ebony owned some remarkably ugly sweaters. And was she threatening them now? Were they supposed to be scared of that? Of this small bird who’d been knitting just minutes earlier?

If she was trying to either intimidate or offend him, she’d failed miserably. It was with pure confusion that Wren turned to look over at Rich as the bird stormed away as quickly as she’d come up to them. “Did she just…?” Yeah, it was clear from Rich’s face that had just happened. “Ugh,” Wren sighed, thoroughly put out that now this was something they had to deal with. Obviously they couldn’t just wait until Stubby got out to find out if this was some crazy fan. That wouldn’t be good for him. And so making sure something like that didn’t happen seemed like a friends thing. The friend things was turning out to be bloody uncomfortable a lot of the time. But Wren didn’t do things halfway, so—time to be a good friend, he supposed. Which apparently meant dealing with Stubby’s psycho fans. 

Wren didn’t get up like the bird did—as if he could be bothered with that—and instead addressed her from where he sat, bringing a leg up to rest that foot on his other knee and leaning back comfortably, as if there was no place he’d rather be than the uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room. “It’s funny you think we look familiar, ‘cause I’m certain we’ve never seen you before,” he said, his voice practicedly friendly though the implication, of course, was that she was a nobody. A nobody who didn’t know Stubby because Wren had sure never seen her with him. Probably a psycho fan who’d somehow figured out when Stubby was getting out. “But speaking of things that would be shitty to do to someone just out of rehab, I don’t think Stubby’s gonna be looking to sign autographs on his way out the door. So if you don’t have the best of intentions maybe you should go. We can be pretty unpleasant ourselves,” he said easily, though his pleasant tone and comfortable posture didn’t change. Wren wasn’t really used to intimidating people, and besides, his words were true enough. The last thing this bird was gonna want was to try to get to Stubby through two Veela. A lift of Wren’s hands and she’d be napping in her chair.

[veelawren]

vilarich​:

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

Hestia wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not. She worried it was the latter. After all, Stanley’s dad had told her that he didn’t want to see her. Which meant she really shouldn’t be here waiting for him to be released. She was nervous. Nervous that he would be upset at her for coming. Nervous that his parents would show up at any moment, surely they were on their way, and have her kicked out before she could see him. Too nervous to even manage the knitting she’d brought along to help her nerves. After mangling so many stitches in a row she wasn’t sure she’d be able to undo it she’d finally sat the knitting back into her cheery yellow bag. Only now she had nothing to do but try not to stare at the only other two people in the waiting room. Hestia didn’t recognize either of them. But she had a sinking feeling they were there for Stanley. Sinking because they didn’t look reputable at all. Sure their clothes were clearly expensive and both of them were attractive. However, looks and nice clothes didn’t make good people. Hestia felt a little bad about judging someone she didn’t even know. There was just something about them. Or maybe that was just because she’d overheard them telling the receptionist that they were there for Stanley. Maybe not everyone around him was awful. Except this was his second time in this part of St Mungo’s and that seemed to indicate that everyone around really was awful. Hestia debated saying something to them. While also trying to look as if she wasn’t staring at them.

Rich worried that Stubby wouldn’t want to see him but he had also worried there wouldn’t be anyone to pick Stubby up from the hospital. All his bandmates had gone and quit, according to all the gossip everywhere. He was pretty sure that Stubby’s parents would just send a bodyguard around to get him. But at the same time he knew that if this was him, the Minister might not send anyone just to be a dick. The Minister and Stubby’s father had a lot in common, all the bad stuff. Not to mention Stubby’s dad was probably the reason he was back in this place instead of getting better. He’d been around enough to know that Stubby’s manager father didn’t just let suppliers close to Stubby, he was one of ‘em. If Stubby had any chance of not dying, which was looking closer and closer to actually happening, he’d need to be away from his dad. Thankfully Wren was up to coming along to try and convince Stubby to come with them. No Veela magic, just an offer Stubby could accept or not. Even if Rich was worried enough that using magic on Stubby was tempting. He was surprised to see someone else there waiting. Some bird who looked way too young to be knitting like an old lady and way too clean cut to be waiting on someone getting out of rehab. She didn’t look like a groupie so she had to be waiting on someone else. Stubby did not hang out with birds who knitted and wore fuzzy yellow sweaters that looked like she’d probably knitted it. Not to mention the way this bird was looking disapprovingly at him and Wren, she’d hate Stubby. Getting antsy he leaned over to Wren, “Do you think she’s waiting on the boyfriend she drove to drugs by being so dull or a sibling who just couldn’t hack it?”

For someone who was used to feeling like he belonged anywhere he decided to go, Wren felt decidedly out of place on the stiff chair in the St. Mungo’s waiting room. And there were a lot of reasons that went beyond the fact he and Rich were easily the best-dressed, best-looking people in the stark white waiting room; that was pretty much standard everywhere Wren went, after all. First was the fact that Wren was here with Rich, doing something that felt—well, heavy. And it was. Stubby had almost died. From the same sort of potions he got from people like Wren and Rich. Granted Wren had never been one for pushing the potions. And he’d done his best to help Rich keep the shit away from Stubby once Rich clued Wren in that he’d been doing that. But there was an uncomfortable, nagging guilt at the fact that he hadn’t thought to do that for so long. Would it even have helped? Stubby’s family seemed pretty shit. Wren hadn’t paid that close of attention—paying attention to things was a new thing for him, and it was already exhausting—but Rich had clued him into some of it after the first time Stubby wound up here. And here he was after not even a full day out on his own. And then there was the very new, very uncomfortable thought that Stubby might not even want Wren here. They weren’t really friends, were they? Wren had gotten closer with Rich, had some real conversations with him, but Stubby was still too busy drowning himself in potions to do that. And yet still Wren felt that strange sense that, as with Rich, maybe Stubby was more of a friend that he’d originally thought. All three of them had been out at those clubs in search of something. All three of them with everyone’s eyes on them. Or maybe it was just that it seemed like Stubby needed a friend, and for better or for worse he and Rich were Stubby’s best options. Because there was no one else here for Stubby, not even his parents, and Wren doubted they’d show up. Whoever the bird was who kept looking at them definitely wasn’t here for Stubby. Wren’s lips curled into a slight grin at Rich’s comment, more glad that Rich was breaking the weird tension of just sitting there waiting for Stubby than anything else. Wren glanced at the bird again. Something about the ugly sweater reminded Wren a little of Ebony, and it made him answer a bit more nicely than he might have otherwise. “Maybe she’s a volunteer,” he said in a low voice. “Here to read books and give ugly hats to drug addicts. Is that a thing?”

[veelawren]

That's the best part The outside is new. But now it reflects, what's already in you. Couldn't change that if I wanted to And I...do not.

[veelawren]

veelaebony​:

Ebony giggled at his comment about being a natural. Somehow it wasn’t surprising when Wren decided to take her game and make it way more complicated. Before she could say anything he was off and all she could do was watch. A few times she’d walked in someone’s shadow but people were too unpredictable and she usually avoided it. Still it was somewhat of a surprise when Wren wasn’t successful. That didn’t stop him. Ebony watched in amazement the quick exchange. It was like Wren never worried about anything. Only now she knew that wasn’t true. It was odd to know something so personal about another. Especially when that other was Wren. Or maybe it was just that they were sharing a space that had only been hers up till now. Ebony carefully made her way to the burst of color that was Wren. “People are way too unpredictable to use,”  she told him despite him already learning that for himself. “You really don’t care who sees you use it, do you?” She was still amazed at that. Ebony hardly ever used her power on purpose and never so openly like Wren had just done. “Maybe we can help each other with our powers? I don’t use mine enough and you said you didn’t work on yours either. Now that we know what we know it might be good to get better.” She wasn’t sure if she could be heard in the shadows, she’d never tried to be, but just in case she decided not to mention the revolution by name. Safer that way.

It was easy to spot Ebony, a bright burst of color against a backdrop of gray, and while her method of joining him was slower, it was far more graceful. “Gee thanks,” Wren said wryly at the advice she offered him too late, before he added, “Show off,” and flashed a grin. Her question took him by surprise, but then he remembered what she’d said about her parents not liking her power. Her parents really sounded like shit people, to the point it was surprising Ebony turned out to be quite the opposite. Or maybe that was because they were such shit people. “Nope. And you shouldn’t either,” he told her. “I mean, obviously around humans I’d care,” he added. Wren was flippant but he wasn’t stupid. “And I can see the advantage of not letting people you see. Bet you can do a lot of sneaking this way, huh?” Wren wondered if that would be helpful for the revolution. It maybe shouldn’t have been a surprise to hear Ebony thinking along the same lines. Wren grinned. He was nervous at the thought of actually trying to get better with his power, but the idea of doing it with Ebony didn’t sound quite as bad. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

[veelawren]

bertienotbotts​:

veelaebony​:

As she’d realized earlier at his house it was harder to not notice the softer aspects of Wren when he looked like he did right now. From his no gel hair to his causal attire everything seemed softer about him. Which made his soft voice that much harder to pretend not to notice. Maybe talking about her terrible parents wasn’t all bad.  While Ebony would have liked not constantly pointing. out to Wren  how much of a loser she was at least she wasn’t feeling odd about how soft he was. Especially in her super secret private space. Except he was giving her a soft smile and Ebony found it really hard to concentrate on anything else. Instead she rambled about her power. And he laughed. Only it wasn’t at her and Ebony couldn’t help noticing  how nice his laugh and the way his eyes seemed to light up was. Way nicer like this than all the times she’d seen him laughing with Arnet and Veela like him. She laughed when he asked if they could try it, surprised by how he seemed to think her silly game would be fun. “Yeah. You just pick the direction you wanna go and follow the shadows. It sounds easy but it can get a little tricky. That’s what makes it fun.” Ebony went first finding a shadow that was connected to theirs and stepping into it, careful not to let any part of her touch outside the shadow. “Like that.” 

When Wren followed Ebony into the shadows, and even now standing here with her, it didn’t occur to him that he’d actually stepped into her own private sanctuary. Likewise, he didn’t think too hard on the fact she’d shared her private game with him. Just like her power, it wasn’t something that struck Wren as something she ought to be embarrassed about – so he simply assumed she wasn’t. His smile grew when Ebony agreed they could try the game out, watching as she demonstrated how it worked. It was hard to tell a new shadow from the one they were in with the way the colors were muted outside the pair of them, but Wren could just make out the outline of the shadow Ebony stepped into. Carefully Wren followed her, smiling when he stopped next to her without leaving the shadows. “Am I a natural or what?” He asked her with a cheeky grin before looking around to find a new shadow. He walked to the edge of the one they were in and spotted the shadow of a figure walking. He grinned at Ebony. “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. I wait for the bloke to get close, step into his shadow, and then pop out into that one over there before he moves too far away.” Wren figured he’d have a window of a couple seconds. He didn’t wait for Ebony’s approval because the bloke had about reached them.Instead he stepped out, only for the man to shift in a way that left Wren outside the shadow. All at once color returned to the world and he smacked into the bloke. “Whoops! Sorry ‘bout that!” Wren gave the startled bloke an irreverent two-fingered salute and then slid back into the shadows, finding the pulse of Ebony’s magic easier this time now he knew what he was looking for. He popped back into the shadow he’d been shooting for and looked for Ebony, laughing all the while. 

[veelawren]

veelaebony​:

She smiled softly at him appreciative of his comment. But his addition surprised her and her smile grew. Wren would defend her to her parents? No one had ever defended her to them before. Maybe one of her school friends might have but she knew better than to bring humans to her house for their own safety. “Thank you,” she told him softly, clearly touched by that. Ebony even liked that he was willing to stay here instead of forcing her out there. Even if them both being in here was weird. “You might be surprised at how little they notice me,” she told him matter of factly before wishing she hadn’t. Ebony sometimes wondered if the reason her power was to fade into the shadows was because of them ignoring her. Which didn’t make sense, she knew, but it had still felt like that. Thankfully she had something else to think and talk about instead of her parents neglect. “You really think so?” Ebony was surprised. “It’s pretty convenient. There’s almost always some kind of shadow. Though you have to make sure the shadows connect if you want to stay invisible. I used to make a game of it, seeing how far I could get without leaving the shadows.” She’d never told anyone that. Wasn’t sure why she told Wren except maybe because he had said it was kinda cool.

Wren wasn’t sure what to do with that soft smile and thanks from Ebony. It left him feeling slightly off balance, or maybe that was just from being in the shadows. Only Wren didn’t really think it was; Ebony had a knack for making him feel off-kilter. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, ‘course,” Wren shrugged, trying his best to be casual, but his voice was softer too. He frowned at the next thing she said. Even before they were friends, Wren noticed Ebony. She stood out among the Veela, for what some thought were bad reasons, but Wren always just thought she marched to the beat of her own drum. Now he knew her better, he understood there was more to it than that. “That’s their loss then, isn’t it?” He said with a soft smile. He was surprised by her surprise when he said her magic was cool, listening with interest when she explained how it worked. As flashy as Wren’s own power was, it was also frustrating in that it always did something different depending on who was around. It occurred to him that maybe now he was spending more time with Ebony, he might be able to actually practice his own magic more. He laughed when she explained her game to him, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah? Can we try it?”

[veelawren]

veelaebony​:

Ebony saw what he meant. Like this Wren practically glowed against the backdrop of the rest of the world. He’d probably love that if he saw himself in a mirror. Being in here alone she’d never noticed that her side of things were brighter and more vibrant. “Guess not,” she told him sheepishly wondering how she hadn’t ever noticed before given all the times she hid like this. She chuckled softly at his words about an audience. Except Wren always had an audience. But his comment about them being friends is what had her smiling. They were friends. Maybe  sharing this with him wasn’t so bad. But she did worry that somehow her abomination status would rub off on him. “You’ve met my parents, they are idiots,” Ebony told him. Which made her feel even more idiotic than them for wanting their approval and love. “They’re very good at the Veela compliment.” The insult wrapped up in language that made it seem almost a compliment was something they were really good at. “I’m sure whatever they said would be glowing praise for your efforts.” Which he really deserved because her hair was very amazing. But they’d still find a way to be awful to her. “So does this mean we’re going back?” As weird as it was to be here with Wren she wasn’t sure she was ready to go back.

Wren frowned at Ebony’s point about her parents likelihood of making some sort of backhanded compliment that praised his own hair styling while also putting Ebony down. That did sound like the Veela thing to do. It also usually wasn’t the kind of thing Wren paid attention to, because he was always on the positive end of things. “Well anything bad they’d try to say about you would be wrong,” he told her quietly. “And it’s not like I’d just stand there and let them insult you,” he added. Wren was still new to the friends thing, but that couldn’t possibly be something a friend would do. Wren certainly wouldn’t. And putting down Ebony’s parents would be fun. Merlin knew they deserved it. But instead of just saying yes to her question, Wren paused. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I mean, they’re going to see your hair eventually, but if you want to wait we can just hang out here a bit.” Wren looked around, taking a moment to actually appreciate how different everything looked like this. “It’s kinda cool in here.”

[veelawren]

veelaebony​:

Ebony jumped when Wren joined her in the shadows. She knew about Wren’s power but she couldn’t have imagined him actually using it to use hers. “Wren?” What was he doing here? But his question caught up to her. She flushed in embarrassment. “Well they like you,” she said lamely. Ebony went to fiddle with her hair before remembering how nice it looked and stopping herself. “I’m sorry. I just… I really love my hair. I’m not ready for them to be awful about it. And they will. They’ll find some way to belittle me. I hate when they do that especially…especially in front of someone.” In front of Wren. Ebony blushed harder.

“I just panicked. This is sort of a reflex when I panic still. Besides you like being superior to people why would you want to be here in the dark?” Why was he here? Ebony had never shared this space with anyone before and it felt more intimate than Wren being in her room or her in his. Maybe intimate was the wrong word because it made her blush even more. She was going to be a tomato if she kept this up.

Ebony hid from her parents because she liked her hair? Oh. Because she thought they’d belittle her hair. In front of him. Wren frowned. There was a lot wrong with that, but the one part that felt strangest was the part that shouldn’t be weird at all. Of course everyone should care what Wren thought, but it was still odd to think that Ebony did. Usually it was amusing to see her blush, but usually it was from Wren’s teasing. He didn’t like this quite so much. Nor did he like being asked why he’d followed her. Wren looked around at her question. 

“It’s not all dark,” he pointed out, because if anything she seemed extra bright and vibrant against the muted backdrop. “And being superior isn’t fun without an audience.” That was true, though there was more to it, and for some reason Wren felt compelled to add, “And...we’re friends.” This was what friends did, right? Only Ebony had abandoned him just then, so maybe not. “Anyways, if your parents are as in the know as they claim to be they’ll know it’s the same as me and Thorn’s, and they’d be idiots to say anything negative about that. Especially with me there. I’d like to see them try, actually,” Wren added with a grin. Just because Thorn and Briar pointed out Wren had to be careful about speaking out against the games, didn’t mean he couldn’t put a couple of old prats in their place for trying to say something about his styling decisions.

[veelawren]

veelaebony​:

For the first time in her entire life Ebony felt pretty. Maybe even beautiful. Her hair at least was beautiful. Hints of purple shimmering throughout as it moved. But her mind wasn’t on her hair. It was on rebellion and a death forest she’d never heard of. She wondered if her parents knew about the forest. Surely not, cause it seemed to her like the perfect spot to toss in a baby no one wanted. But maybe she was her mother’s punishment. A woman like Primrose might have found that a just punishment. No regard to what it would bel ike for the child. Or maybe it was a joint punishment. Her mum had to raise her while she had to be raised by her mum. Not to mention her dad. Ebony didn’t want to know what the forest was like. But she also didn’t want things to stay the same. They were awful. Thorn and Briar were giving them a chance to make it better. A chance they were taking.

Ebony looked over at Wren. He looked far more handsome like this. Not just the no gel in his hair and not trying so hard in general but the fact that he seemed lost in thought about everything they’d just found out. She definitely preferred it when Wren thought. Despite the heavy information sitting between them and the attention walking with Wren was getting her she nearly smiled. Spotting her parents coming up, thankfully not noticing her yet, kept her from smiling. Instead she panicked. Ebony didn’t want to see their reaction to her new hair or her walking with Wren. She didn’t think it’d be good. Maybe they could avoid her parents. Another look told her they were sure to see her soon. “Oh no,” she whispered, panicking. Without thinking Ebony did what she normally did when she panicked and faded into the shadows. Everything around her muted as if they were the ones fading into the shadows with only Ebony remaining in color. It was a familiar sensation. One that felt calming.

Maybe today didn’t have to be all heavy thoughts of rebellion and death forests after all -- because there were Ebony’s parents walking toward them. The thought of running into them walking with Ebony in the middle of the Ruelle was even better than just seeing them at her house. Wren glanced over to flash her a grin -- surely this would be even more fun for her than for him -- only to see a look of panic on her face. Oh. Wren’s grin fell in an instant, replaced by concern before she faded away, disappearing into the shadows before his eyes.

Wren blinked. “What the--?” Did she really just leave him here? He glanced in the direction her parents were coming from; they hadn’t spotted Wren yet. He frowned at the shadows coming off the storefront they were in front of. Then he reached out with his magic. The first thing he sensed was Ebony’s heartbeat, faster than normal. Then he sensed her magic and focused in on it until he could feel a familiar tingling in his fingertips. He cast another glance at her parents, just as they were surely about to spot him, and then stepped toward the shadows where Ebony had disappeared.

The world around him turned gray and muted, except for Ebony who came into view all at once in vivid color. “What the hell, E?” Wren said as soon as he saw her. “You were just gonna leave me there?”

[veelawren]

Wren was still floored by everything Thorn and Briar had told them. There was a rebellion brewing. With the Veela and the Vila. And Thorn of all people was in charge of it. And apparently there was a death forest that was a very real risk if they got caught saying or doing things they shouldn’t. Wren couldn’t help the small part of him that wanted to go back to about two weeks earlier when nothing like this was on his mind. But there was a greater part of him that didn’t want to go back to that, to turning a blind eye people to like Arnet who hurt people for fun. Wren was ashamed he’d been that way for so long. It was a wonder Ebony even bothered to speak to him. 

He glanced over at her as they walked through the Ruelle, back to her parents’ house, neither of them saying much. For Wren’s part, his mind was spinning, and he was afraid to say much of anything while they were out in the open. Wren was so deep in thought he barely even noticed the strange looks they were getting. Wren still in his faded sweatshirt and jeans, no gel in his hair, carrying a shopping back with some hair products he’d insisted Ebony take with her. No excuse not to use them. Not to mention the Veela who was walking alongside him. While Wren was looking less put together than normal, Ebony was the opposite with her freshly styled-by-Wren hair. At least if you ignored the bloody bunny sweatshirt. They were an odd pair to say the least. Wren was looking forward to showing up at her parents’ house again. He was definitely hoping to get a look at their faces when she showed up with her purple hair, smooth and shiny as any Veela’s. Better, even, because Wren had done it.

[veelawren]

veelarebel‌:

Once both the young Veela in front of him had spoken up and agreed to accept the risks Thorn’s smile grew even brighter. He loved this part. The fact that it was his cousin felt extra special, though he was still very aware of what could happen to him if things didn’t go to plan. “I’m in charge on this side of things,” he told Wren, slightly surprised that he hadn’t caught on to that yet. While Briar’s input was important, she was going to be who their people looked to for peace once all of this was over. It was why he didn’t share the role of leading the rebellion with her despite sharing everything else. This way he hoped nothing would compromise their view of her as the one to give them peace. “There’s a Vila who is heading up their side of things. It’s not just Veela. This is for all of us. A united people just like we should have been all along. We’re stronger and safer together.” Given that Wren was a friend of a Vila, something he’d heard his mum ranting over plenty, he doubted this would be a problem for him. Ebony certainly didn’t seem to think it was. Thorn waited and let the fact that he was a rebellion leader sink in for Wren before he said anything else.

Thorn’s words took Wren too much by surprise for him to notice the smile that Briar was struggling to bite back. Thorn wasn’t just part of the rebellion. Thorn was leading it. “Wait. You?” Wren’s brows knit together as he regarded his cousin. Thorn. Thorn, who he’d spent his whole life hearing he should be more like. Thorn, who was always going around acting all perfect and trying to make Wren more like him, insisting they were the same. Had Thorn meant….? “...Oh,” he finally breathed, nodding slowly even as his mind reeled with this new information. And there was still more coming. 

Wren’s eyes widened when Thorn mentioned that there were Vila involved; this was so much bigger than he’d thought even just a moment ago, and before that he’d thought nothing was being done at all. The Vila were involved. Which meant this was huge. And it also meant this didn’t have to jeopardize the second real friendship he’d made over the last couple weeks. If anything, this had to mean good news for Rich, and for Davey. “Does that mean you’ll be able to help Davey? I mean, even if your mum says no -- if things change then….the Games go away, right? What else changes?”