julietvelhankar

[julietvelhankar]

prospero-olvino​:

Annoyance and guilt shocked through their body, but they ignored both feelings, and instead latched on to her anger, that was easier. Their eyebrows fell a little heavier over their eyes, and they swallowed when she jabbed at them rather obviously. She wanted an argument, and while Prop knew it was better to just walk away… they also couldn’t. They were never one to make the right decision when it was needed, rather picking the first thing that came to mind. In this case: fight, not flight. If anything, Prop ddi believe they could win this argument if necessary. Even if engaging in such would lead to burning the bridge between them even further.

They knew they could’ve easily apologised for running away, but she wasn’t supposed to call them out on that. They gritted their teeth together. “Running away? I simply decided we shouldn’t be friends anymore, I’m sorry if your heartbreak is something that you still haven’t gotten over after all these years, but that’s not my problem,” they bit back. 

.

She grew rigid at their words, her fists balled up at her sides. Heartbreak? Was that what it had been? There had been shock, certainly. And a tightness in her chest that had taken months to go away. But heartbreak sounded feeble, a term used to describe an emotion for those ruled by sentimentality, and hearing Prop attach it to her only further incited her anger. 

Juliet closed whatever distance had been between them, grabbing Prop’s collar and pulling them down so they were eye level. She didn’t know how much they could see, but she hoped it was enough to discern the contempt in her eyes. “Maybe not. But you know what your problem is?” she bit out, unconcerned by the passerbys that shot them curious looks. “You’re a coward.”

[julietvelhankar]

prospero-olvino​:

Prop might not have recognised her right away by her looks, they would always see people a little vaguely, no matter how close they were, but her voice send down a tremor of recognition through their body.

Fuck.

Just like all those years before, Prop felt like walking away. They weren’t sure at first if the feeling that lingered was annoyance or guilt, they went for annoyance, that was much easier to deal with. She had gotten too close, or they had gotten too close… or something.

They made a face when she began with what could’ve been the actual directions, only to turn it into something Italian that sounded very much as if she was telling them to walk off a bridge. Their face grew hot and while aware of how they had been responsible for cutting Juliet off, they felt called out.

”Very mature,” they noted, face pulling into a snarl. “Could’ve also completely ignored me and walked along. Or do you really think this is the time and place to start an argument?”

.

She felt her hands to start to shake and clenched her fists at her sides to keep them steady. It had been years since she’d last seen Prospero, her memory of them having softened and blurred at the edges over time. But it was still the same gruff features on the same face, and she tried to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest, choosing instead to grab onto a more familiar feeling — anger. 

“And why wouldn’t it be the time and place to start an argument?” she shot back. “Scared that people will hear you lose?” A small laugh escaped her lips, humorless and brittle enough that she was surprised it hadn’t splintered in her throat. “Are you going to run away again? That’s what you’re good at, if I remember correctly.” 

[julietvelhankar]

Queen Sugar S2E16: Dream Variations | dir. Kat Candler

[julietvelhankar]

levi-carstairs​:

Juliet was a spitfire if there ever was one, and Levi did not know whether to roll his eyes in exasperation or look up at her in sheer admiration when she effectively pinned him to the ground - a feat of skill more than strength, though she had plenty to spare for both. The fact that Juliet resorted to physical violence and actual threads to express any amount of affection towards him was so painfully familiar that he couldn’t help the grin that blossomed on his face, despite the fact his arms ached slightly from the position she kept them in. 

“Will you truly be able to act on that threat, given how much you love me?” Levi shot back tauntingly. He used words like love and devotion so liberally that some thought him shallow for it, even if he meant each avowal and declaration every single time. “Honestly Midge, saying I miss you by bruising my wrists and kneeling on my abs…I thought you’ve outgrown all that.” 

As a sociable creature, Levi considered himself to a countless number of friends, but at the end of the day, there were only a sure handful that he’d go to impossible lengths for. The fact that Juliet hated to hear it spoken out loud only made Levi repeat it that more often, perhaps in the hope that she’d one day accept the fact that he loved her, fully and unconditionally. 

He felt a pang in his chest when she laid her head right above his beating heart, stroking her hair absentmindedly in response. “I’m very comfortable lying here, so don’t expect me to try and get up anytime soon.” 

.

She glared in response to his question, pressing her lips together into a thin line as she held back her knee-jerk reaction to any mention of love, which was outright denial. It would have been a waste of breath, anyway — it wasn’t a secret that Levi was one of the few people that had managed to firmly take root in her heart, despite her early efforts to scare him away. She would maybe even go as far as to call him something akin to family, if the idea didn’t automatically make her recoil. Family had never held a positive connotation for her. 

She thought that it would be more accurate to call him home. 

Juliet held back a small smile when she felt him stroking her hair, opting instead to move so she was hovering over him again, her face directly above his. “Is that a challenge?” she shot back, the glint of mischief in her eyes signaling trouble. Really, he should have known better by now. She lowered her head until her lips were only a hair’s breadth away from his, smirking as she spoke. “Still comfortable?” 

[julietvelhankar]

parasympathic​:

No, she told him, and there wasn’t much room for misinterpretation there. A quiet nod of his head, prepared to go back into his own office and do his best just to focus on his own work for the rest of the day. If he’d wanted some answer to all that vitriol Juliet Velhankar reserved just for him then he’d gotten it, a blunt statement of his sins against her and no real defense to offer. He hadn’t known he was her first friend, he hadn’t known he’d mattered that much to her, or to anyone he’d grown up with. Every time he’d learned otherwise it always felt just as jarring, because it never quite felt like him.

It was the same now, but he still stopped when she demanded more, something that read closer to exhaustion when he answered her. “I don’t know what else you want me to say.” 

This was where he always struggled, trying to understand emotion when rational explanations weren’t enough. “We were children. I barely remember being that young.” He wanted to leave it at that, some easy excuse that didn’t require more elaboration. Children could be cruel and fickle when they wanted to be, and maybe he’d been no exception, but it hadn’t mattered to her then and he didn’t expect it to matter to her now. Clearly it didn’t matter who he’d become, if he was sorry, because the damage was done and he didn’t have the first idea what to do with the thought that he’d been the cause of it. 

He looked away from her, gaze sliding briefly across the decor she’d chosen for herself, some proof of whoever she’d become now, a person he didn’t know any better than she knew him. They’d still been left strangers, and it was easy to tell himself that a shared childhood didn’t mean he owed her anything more than the few words he’d already offered. Harder was the guilt that settled unwelcome in his stomach when the only answers he had for her weren’t ones he wanted to share with anyone. 

He let his gaze focus back on her in the next moment, everything she felt played out just as obviously in her expression as it had in the match she’d tossed at a half built desk. Struggling briefly to find some middle ground. “Look… dropping you was never my choice. But I’m still sorry for it.” 

✦

It should have been enough. 

There was something in his tone, something in his expression that told her he was struggling to find the right words, maybe struggling to find the right feelings for the entire situation. And that struggle meant his apology was genuine, because only with the truth did people feel lost. Often others thought the truth was black and white, but she’d found it to be the opposite. It was lies that were easy. The truth was always more complicated, always more intricate than just a single shade on the color wheel, shifting with the angle of the light that shone upon it. 

Monty was exhausted because he was trying, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. She doubted it was as simple as the fickleness of children, simply because she didn’t think he’d ever truly been a child. Even in the haze of her memories, she remembered his eyes, devoid of childhood innocence. Back then, she hadn’t known the right words to describe it. Only that she recognized it because she saw it reflected in her own eyes. 

She found herself opening her mouth — maybe because it still wasn’t enough, or maybe because she knew there was more, and Juliet had never been one to settle. “If it wasn’t your choice then whose choice was it?” she asked, her gaze unrelenting. But there was a softness in her voice that hadn’t been there before, as if she was asking him to prove her wrong. Because she was a scientist, and at the end of the day, she knew that theories could be proven wrong, no matter how much time had passed. There might have even been a part of her that wanted to be proven wrong, the same part that still believed he was better than the rest. 

[julietvelhankar]

She should have ignored them. She should have held her head high and kept marching along the Asphodel streets. 

After all, hadn’t they done the same to her, five years ago? 

But Juliet could only stand there as Prospero asked for directions, their voice too familiar — a voice that had once set flight to butterflies in her chest. But then, in the same breath, set fire to their wings. As she studied her former friend’s face, the lines and curves she had once committed to memory, the mouth she would have done anything just to watch it form a smile, Juliet could feel the stirring of their corpses at the pit of her stomach, asking for vengeance. 

“You’ll want to take a right at the next intersection, take a long flight of stairs until you see a gate that reads, Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate, then take a ferry across the River,” she answered, in a mockingly sweet tone, ignoring their first question altogether. “I’m sure you can find your way from there.” 

Location: random street in Asphodel @asphodelstarter

“Okay google,” Prospero said, blinking against the heavy sunlight that was shining in from above. They heard the little blinky sound that suggested their phone was listening and continued. “Open google maps.” Even squinting their eyes, they would not be able to see if Google Maps had actually been opened, but so far, it hadn’t failed yet. They waited a few seconds, then - not even looking down - asked for directions to a shop called Tiny Trinkets. They bit their lip as they continued to wait, but not happened. “Okay google…” The blinky sound didn’t come. “Okay google, how much battery do I have left?” Of course, no answer. 

Sighing they turned to the first person they heard nearby and held out their phone. “Can I ask you two questions? First, does my phone appear to be error’ing or is it just shut off? If either, do you maybe know the way to Tiny Trinkets? I took a wrong turn and I have no idea where to go next,” they admitted. 

[julietvelhankar]

oleanderxsol​:

While Charlie pulled mild amusement from the hurricane Juliet usually brought with her everywhere she went, upending the peacefulness of the day for any paths she crossed, there was still the reality that she had the potential to be a threat if she put her mind to it. And she’d seldom tried to find solid ground instead of the line she teetered on between playful banter and wicked infiltrator. 

“Thank you for the flattery,” he commented dryly, giving her a light smile because as much as she irked the people of his House and probably irked the people of her own house, he’d still found amusement in her. Still found their playful games to be both tiresome and exhilarating at times. 

“You should know by now that I’m not one to initiate affection,” he deflects her jokes, any sign that there was some sort of…seduction going on. She was a temptress and Charlie wasn’t always one to give in to womanly charms, but he had been known to indulge on occasion. 

“What brings you home?” he asked a more serious question of her. “Business?” 

✧

Often times, she marveled at Charlie’s seemingly endless tolerance for her — she knew all too well that her comments and actions towards him tiptoed (and sometimes crossed) the line of propriety. Yet he never reacted with anything less than grace and subtle amusement, meeting her boldness with politeness. Really, it should have been enough for anyone else to give up, especially because it had been years. But this was Juliet, and it only made her more determined. 

She strode up to him, closing the distance between them and only leaving a hair’s breadth of space, her eyes holding a challenge, daring him to back away. “I came back after hearing about the break in,” she lied. It was only after her return that she’d heard, though he didn’t need to know that. News spread quickly throughout the gifted community, after all. “I just came back to check if you’re off your game.” 

The smirk that formed on her lips was the only warning before her arm reached back and plucked out the hair accessory that held her locks in a bun, a stick in the shape of sword (she did enjoy her medieval weaponry) and aimed for the base of his throat. 

[julietvelhankar]

I worshipped the myth I made of you, but I’m off my knees / now.

Traci Brimhall, from “Dear Eros,” Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod (via facinaoris)

@parasympathic

[julietvelhankar]

nitasamsaradavid​:

The Voodoo seemed to be reliable when it came to two things: European men who thought they were hot shit and women who actually were. The balance of the two made it just tolerable enough to be worth coming back to, and tonight Nita was nursing her usual beer, idly watching the current game of pool.

One of the few benefits of her quickly garnered reputation was that most of the men like the one stumbling after savvy brunette knew not to even bother with her. It left her with the best of both worlds: watching an asshole be humiliated and not having to lift a finger to do it. 

“I’m not big on greetings at all,” she shrugged, looking over the scene with a slightly raised brow, a sign that she was either impressed or judgmental. Perhaps both. “Though this,” she started, gesturing to brief show of violence, “Might actually spark my interest in a conversation.” Looking back at the woman in question, she left it up to her if she was feeling social after her last disappointing human interaction.

☆

A smirk started to form on her lips and she opened her mouth to retort, but a string of swears from the man on the ground interrupted her, and she turned to level him with a glare that sent him scurrying off as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his feet. Good choice. 

Juliet turned her full attention to the other woman then, studying her with some interest. She was unfamiliar, though it was expected — there seemed to be an influx of new residents in Asphodel since she’d last been in town, and she’d long stopped caring to keep track. This one, however, seemed to be of a different breed than the ones she’d met, who had either been nauseatingly slick or completely clueless. 

“Really,” she intoned, the look in the other brunette’s eyes not quite sitting well. She traded her cue stick for the drink she’d been nursing, taking a sip and shooting her an unimpressed look over the rim of the glass. “And is sparking your interest for a conversation something I should be aiming to do?” she asked with mock casualness, tilting her head to the side. “You must be hot shit around here, then.” 

[julietvelhankar]

closed starter for @nitasamsaradavid​

“Sweetheart, it’s how we greet each other in France.”

The placid expression on her face was her only response to the man, who had unsuccessfully tried to pull her in for an unwelcome kiss. Clearly, he was properly inebriated — if the dark whiskey stain on the front of his shirt wasn’t evidence enough, then the way he staggered back when she pushed him away lightly was.

But it wasn’t an excuse, and Juliet Velhankar had never been the forgiving type, because in the next moment, two whacks sounded through the Voodoo: her pool cue hitting his stomach and the back of his knees in rapid succession, one to offset his balance and the other to knock him forward, so that he toppled to the ground, his knees breaking his fall.

“I prefer to be greeted by a kneel,” she smirked, turning to a dark haired woman that stood a few feet away. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

[julietvelhankar]

secrets ☆ arcana ☆ tea ☆ hh

[julietvelhankar]

parasympathic​:

Monty half expected her not to answer him, when it was possibly the most effective way to both frustrate and annoy him. Simply keeping from him something he wanted to know. But she obliged easily, sitting herself on the floor before an answer came, and it wasn’t the one he expected. Farther back then he’d thought, nothing to do with Isabel, or Asphodel, or anyone else but him, and there was always something jarring about hearing he’d left any kind of mark when those years were as hazy to him as they were unwelcome.

“Oh.“ It was a pathetically weak response, that single word dropping from his lips in the absence of anything else. Studying the woman in front of him, gaze on the ground and clenched fists at her side. 

But what else could he possibly say? Explaining himself felt like excuses, justifications for the child he used to be, and if he thought he’d never really had a choice in anything he did, it still felt like weakness. Like he should’ve been able to fight back, rebel, run away, anything except conform quietly to every expectation of him. He thought that was absolutely why his parents hadn’t wanted him around her, because she’d been far too capable of all of those things.

Regardless, he didn’t even think that was what she was looking for. He didn’t know if she was looking for anything at all from him now, except maybe to turn her own pain into a knife against him. It was successful at least, but he did his best to swallow his regret. “I’m sorry for disappointing you,” he told her, the words quiet and honest, even if he thought they were worth about as much as the burned out match on the ground. “Did you still want my help with your desk?” 

✦

“No.”

A single syllable, yet it still felt brittle in her throat. It acted not only as an answer for his last question, but also the statements that preceded. She stood up to her full height, which still was more than a head shorter than him, but better than sitting on the floor like child listening to stories told by adults. 

Or a worshipper looking up to their god. 

Because that was it, wasn’t it? She had stood him up on a pedestal — infallible Monty, discerning Monty, the one person who could see past prejudices ingrained in them since birth, prejudices that caused people to value each other on the basis of tier rather than character and intelligence. The same people who tittered behind their hands as she walked by, disguising their laughter as coughs and pitying looks. But no, Montgomery had been different. He’d noticed her. He’d played with her. She’d wanted to be just like him. Smart and poised. Perceptive. Independent. 

But Monty wasn’t a god, and sometimes she wondered if she’d even known him as a person at all. Or was he simply a wall for her to glue her hopes upon? Because as suddenly as their friendship had started, it ended, and she was left with no answers, a gaping hole in the middle of her chest that she filled with resentment, because it was the closest thing to worship. 

“No.” This time her voice was stronger. “You don’t get to just say sorry and leave it at that,” she continued, though she herself was unsure what exactly she wanted to hear from him. But she knew what she didn’t want, and it was to simply go back to building a desk and ignoring the elephant in the room, because she had already opened the topic, opened the hole in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how much more resentment she could shove into it before she simply sank into the ground from her own rage. 

And maybe it was more than just Monty. Maybe it was the sum of her grief, a childhood spent wanting and never receiving, until the want grew sour and turned into venom. Montgomery Lacroix was only a small part of that, but she found that she couldn’t stop, even as his injustice registered. 

[julietvelhankar]

filiumsol​:

It was probably the best Riley had slept in a week, something comforting about being back at home, and more importantly, under his father’s roof. As childish as it sounded and as little as he planned on admitting it, there was still a part of him that believed it was the safest place on the planet. Not even the news of a break-in could erase that thought, some certain and stubborn belief that if Charlie had been present it would’ve gone much different.

So he was dead asleep when an intruder climbed into his room, not even the brief warning enough to wake him before something landed on top of him.

“Motherfucker.” The startled curse escaped him in a burst, kicking at his blankets as he flailed ungracefully to get out from under whatever weight was currently pinning him down. At some point his hand missing the edge of the mattress, his upper half following and leaving him lying in a clumsy heap, half on and half off the bed.

Heart thudding wildly in his chest as he swiftly blinked away whatever remnants of sleep were still alive after that, left staring up at an all too familiar face.

“Sweet baby beast Jesus, Juliet. You almost gave me a fucking heart attack.”

♚

Sweet baby beast Jesus? That was a new one. She instantly decided that she liked it.

Juliet simply stared down at him in amusement, not at all inclined to help the man get into a less precarious position. “A heart attack?” she repeated, thoughtful. “And here I always thought you would go down for something more exciting.” 

But she couldn’t help the wide grin that settled on her lips, reaching to pinch Riley’s cheeks, as if he was still the lanky teenager that she had endlessly teased instead of a grown man that could now easily tower over her. “Little Sol,” she cooed, continuing to stretch his cheeks every which way, glad they were still somewhat elastic for her to squish around. “I still remember the days when I would sneak you drinks behind Levi’s back.” Drinks that were pure liquor and no juice — and not exactly sneaky, at least not once the giggling began. A nostalgic sigh. 

Finally letting go of his cheeks, she leaned back, if only to give herself some room to punch his arm. “You didn’t even tell me you were coming back, asshole.”

[julietvelhankar]

emilianopavone​:

Juliet finally offered a riddle which was either genius or completely lazy, but Emiliano chose to give her the benefit of the doubt, entertaining it as if it were as deserving of his time as she was. “Ah, the age old question,” he mused, tapping his forefinger against the steering wheel as he chose a place to start.

“Let’s see, I suppose you could mean the obvious: why in the world have I let some fantastically mysterious but obviously dangerous stranger into my car?” He shot her a look that was rife with fake judgement, clearly unconcerned by her presence, but perfectly happy to tease her about it. “Or it could be on your behalf: why should you let some fantastically mysterious but obviously dangerous stranger drive you home?” Emil suspected she might protest the self-description, but he felt perfectly confident presenting himself as such.

“Or maybe it’s something far bigger, that great existential question of why? Why are we here and the like,” he continued, ticking off the list of possibilities in a casual, meandering path towards an answer. “Luckily, they all have the same answer, so it saves me the trouble of narrowing it down.” Slowing down at a red stoplight, it gave him a chance to give her his answer directly. “Why not?” 

✦

Well, shit. 

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was vexed or impressed — the odd mixture of feelings she was coming to associate with the man sitting beside her. She hadn’t expected him to give the exact answer she had in mind, and for a moment she wondered if he was a telepath. But no, she’d spent the majority of her life around those that held the ability to play tricks with the mind, and he didn’t seem to be one of them. 

Still, she was always one to give credit where it was due, and awarded him with one of her rare, full smiles, an acknowledgement of his answer. “Maybe because we are two fantastically mysterious but obviously dangerous strangers,” she easily shot back, echoing words, always eager to complete a perfect circle. 

She shifted in the next moment to glance at her phone screen, which buzzed with a text that her bike was finished from repairs. “I hope you remember your answer,” she murmured, turning towards him again and leaning in so that her lips almost brushed his cheek. “I have something better in mind than you taking me home.” There was a pause in which any normal person would find themselves slightly uncomfortable, but she had always been shameless in her ease with, well, anything. Instead, she studied the curl of his lashes, the specks in his irises, the lines in his face that wouldn’t have been visible at any other proximity. For scientific purposes. 

And then she shrugged and sat back in her seat, gesturing for him to turn at the light, where the repair shop was located. 

[julietvelhankar]

man some of the seven deadly sins aren’t even that bad. sorry I’m angry n wanna fuck? Sorry I ate a lot? shut up

[julietvelhankar]

ulysses-goode​:

Confusion was the least of what they felt in that moment. Perhaps they were misreading the situation. She had none of the symptoms it would seem that came with having a heart attack. None of the additional physical ones that was. They had already grabbed hold of their flashlight in their pocket, but had yet to come close enough to examine her when she flung out of the grip the older lady had on her and sprung into their arms. Most odd.

Then she gave them a look that clearly showed she wasn’t actually having a heart attack, but instead tried her best to get out of the situation she was in. They kept from smiling amused, and instead nodded severely. Technically, they weren’t okay with this tactic of boy cried wolf, but saying that right now would only drag out an already absurd situation. “I’ll make sure she’s okay, Mrs. Hart,” Uly assured the lady with a charming smile and turned the individual back to them. “Could we have some privacy, as well, Mrs. Hart?”

The lady looked shocked for a moment, but as Uly forced Juliet to sit down, and kneeled down in front of her, she turned to leave. They wait till she was out of view before they sat down as well. “If you really want to fake something like that, I suggest some research,” they said, their voice was slightly serious. “But I think faking a less dangerous emergency next time is more obtainable. And will give me less of an adrenaline rush,” Uly added. Their heart was racing, their brain already having made plans for what to do to keep her alive.

✦

She watched the older woman leave with no small amount of relief, grateful that the surgeon was willing to play along. After crossing paths with more than enough doctors in her time at the labs and hospitals, Juliet knew that surgeons were often the most rigid in their ethics and mannerisms. 

But whatever gratitude she felt towards Ulysses quickly dissipated as they started to lecture her, and it took more restraint than she’d like to admit to keep herself from rolling her eyes — although she was no longer a teenager, her disdain for authority figures had stayed. And while Dr. Goode was not exactly an authority figure to her, their serious tone summoned her more rebellious tendencies. 

“Mm,” she hummed, crossing her legs, head tilting slightly as she turned to face them, contemplative. “But faking a heart attack is preferable to committing murder, don’t you think?” It was a joke, though nothing in her tone suggested as much as she waited for the surgeon’s reaction. 

[julietvelhankar]

Anger is supposed to be liberating, so goes the mythology, but her anger has not freed her in any way that she can see. It’s only made her emptier, flowing out of her like this.

Margaret Atwood, from Bluebeard’s Egg. (via xshayarsha)