Happy Ratmas, Tristen!

[✨ zozo.]

yo eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris

hello tristen darling! merry christmas! hopefully you haven't figured out prior to this that i'm your secret santa - but if you have, i guess i need to work on my evasion skills! well now you know, i have made you a bunch of goodies that i hope you enjoy and (fingers crossed) meet your fabulous tastes <3

thank you for being such a wonderful friend to me. through our ups and downs we still remain the best of friends and i am so lucky to have someone like you in my life. i swear that we are telepathic from the amount of times we think alike or say something at the exact same time - must be that twin telepathy! it's crazy to think that someone so many thousands of miles away who is normally sleeping (or should be sleeping) when i'm awake - and vice versa - could be such a close friend, and know me a lot better than most people i know offline. even if we go a few days or weeks without talking, when we pick off from where we left off it's like i had just talked to you yesterday. i really, really, really treasure that and hope with all my heart that we stay friends for a long, long time.

thank you for our hilarious, wild and endlessly long skype conversations that stretch into the early hours of the mornings and for keeping me company via. facebook messenger whilst i'm on my long bus journies to university talking about our characters, our ships, out plots, college, friends, life, and other things. thank you so much for always asking about how my life is going outside of the internet and for still remembering little tid-bits, names, and bits of information i've mentioned months ago. it means the absolute world that you show that you care both on and offline, and you never fail to put a smile on my face. thank you for taking the time to plan ships, plots, characters, families, friendships and helping me out with other writing things when i am lost for muse. i wouldn't be the writer i am today without your help, and it's because of you that i have so many treasured characters close to my heart. you are always so excited and thrilled to write with me and it is such an honour to be able to experience all different aspects of writing with a friend like you (even if i tease you mercilessly for taking ages to reply).

you are such a talented writer, fierce friend and wonderful soul, and i wish you all the happiness and good vibes from the christmas season and throughout the year. hopefully this package of gifts make you laugh, make you smile, and make you inspired, because you always do the same for me c:

to start off with, here are a handful of icons of your favourite characters since i know you love those character/fc icons!

 

next are some 'get out of jail free' cards you can use all year long for when i or anyone else is giving you a hard time on skype (we all love you though <3)

here are some aesthetics i made for our ships and your characters. see if you can guess what's what (hopefully i captured their essence well???)

and finally, since i'm always bugging you about writing brently/perdita, i went ahead and started the thread myself. here's a post for you (take as much time as you need to reply! i promise i won't complain c;) - i will post it up in d4 as well so it's a proper thread and you're not spoiled before this goes live.

BRENTLY GRAY

DISTRICT FOUR

He spends the afternoon patching up his best friend's face, dabbing at cuts with alcohol-soaked rags and making jokes for her to laugh at to replace the grimaces of pain that vibrated through her skull. Cursing the one that put them there and applauding Aine's stories of small victories and the looks on their enemies faces, a lingering fury began to nestle in the pit of his stomach. Aine doesn't need a hero. She's her own saviour and lets everyone know it. But there's a love forged from late night adventures and tobacco smoke and the burden of being unwanted between them, a family compromised of two souls born from the ashes of cigarettes and sand. A sister she is and a sister she will always be, side-by-side against the world until his last dying breath.

"Ow!" Aine protests from underneath his hands as his anger unleashed a litle too quickly against her already bruised skin. "Shit, sorry" Brently hisses back, retracting his hand. A warrior in all of her wind-swept hair and worn-down boots, Aine smiles back to break the tension. "So," she asks, "how do I look?"

She has a fire beneath her eyes and her soul is forged from thunder and the stormy seas. Purple blotches stain her face like water-colour art as if she had painted them there herself, sand-coloured skin tarnished with blue and black and violet. Traces of smoke linger in the stitches of her jacket and specks of blood lie far and wide across her head. She is beautiful, but not in the way everyone else wants her to be. Everyone else but Brently Gray.

"Never better" he mutters to her amusement. "Get the cameras out everyone, District Four's Next Top Model is here and ready to be photographed!"

As Aine throws her head back and bursts into fits of giggles the fury in his body reaches his chest. He smiles, a mask made for himself more than Aine. Pain shrouded in joy is a disguise he knows all too well and can taste it in her laughter, and by the time his best friend leaves he's already made up his mind. He'll make her pay. He'll make that nasty little bitch wish she had never laid eyes on the two of them. Her and her bitch-ass little whiny no-good ass-kissing tattle-tale rat pack.

He doesn't know what he's doing as he saunters up to the Leto household and hammers on the door, barking "Calypso! CALYPSO!" with every few knocks. Blonde hair shines in the afternoon light and his skin burns from the sun and the anger boiling beneath the surface. "CALYPSO!" he yells again, to no avail. "CALYPSO YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

For a tattletale, she's quick to put her tail between her legs and run for cover. Or she's not home - but there's the faint trace of footsteps lingering behind the door and he'll be damned if he leaves without revenge on Calyspo Leto, Peacekeeper Father or not. His knuckles are raw and stinging against the wooden barricade but it's nothing compared to the state this girl and her gang of followers have left on the body of the one person on earth he still cares for.

"CALYPS-"

The door opens mid-pound and Brentley's heart skips a beat, greeted by a stranger with sad, sad eyes.

"-Oh."

merry christmas lovely, and a happy new year to you and your fam. love ya loads <3