#I think this is the happiest i ever drawn Hunter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mandalorewhore · 4 years ago

Text

Mirroring

PART THREE OF MOMENTS IN-BETWEEN!!

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2.6k AO3 link

Content: light angst, themes of anxiety, fluff, bonding, found family, subtle dinmera :), din learns how to communicate with kids

Summary: Soft moments between Din and Grogu that the audience does not get to see In-between episodes, scenes, and seasons.

A/N: this one is lighter/sillier than previous chapters, also there will be multiple Sorgan chaps owo

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The kid won’t stop following Din.

He doesn’t get it at first. If he’s being honest, he unconsciously expected to put the child down and come back to the child sitting right where he left it. The realization is slightly embarrassing. Of course, a baby isn’t going to sit nicely without supervision... even an odd baby with strange powers and the highest bounty Din has ever seen.

The child isn’t dumb or animalistic; Din knows that his physical growth relative to mental growth must be far slower than other species, especially since the kid has toddler-like mannerisms yet possesses enough strength to lift a full-grown Mudhorn with his mind.

Din tries to not think about that, it’s too confusing to consider while he juggles running for his life. The child's powers don’t lend him self-sufficiency, the kid still needs help with feeding, bathroom breaks, and keeping clean. Din is struck over and over again with the realization that this child will rely on him for, well, everything.

Even after choosing to lose everything for the kid, the reality of his situation is overwhelming enough to cause him some anxiety. The child will continually look to him for nourishment, entertainment, and probably affection. Definitely affection. He’s already seeking that comfort with the way he looks at Din, face so full of trust that it is almost uncomfortable to witness. The kid mirrors the bounty hunter’s actions, playing with the switches on the Crest console and attempting to follow him wherever he goes.

He stubbornly waddles in Din’s shadow even after they landed on Sorgan, making his way through the lush woods on tiny limbs. Din learns to slow his pace once the kid falls a little too far behind.

This planet is lovely. It is such a shame that they can’t stay. Warm, late-summer light breaks through the forest canopy to speckle the forest floor as if the lightbox antics from the night before have manifested in reality. The kid is just as distracted by the real thing, chasing the sunbeams and occasionally wandering to the side of the beaten path in a manner that makes Din nervous. He feels like he could blink and the baby will be lost in the underbrush. Once they get back to the ship Din will sit him down and have a chat about that habit. Hopefully, the little one will understand well enough to stick closer to him on their next excursion.

He pauses in the shadowy path, smiling when a small bump at his ankle tells him the kid is keeping pace. He looks down and meets the baby’s dark eyes, the emotion within them is feverishly excited. The child babbles and points into the trees, swirling his hands around with an animated flair to gesture at everything and nothing. Din guesses he is trying to describe the woods.

The bounty hunter crouches down and listens attentively to the kids ranting, his large dark eyes so emotive that the language barrier is all but eliminated. Both the baby and Mandalorian nod and look around with exaggerated motions, the child's excited attitude rubbing off on him. Din doesn’t want to interrupt the moment but he knows they need to keep going if they want to make it back to the ship before dark. They’re still being hunted.

The bounty hunter straightens with a heavy breath, settling his hands on his hips. “Come on little one. It will be dark soon.” The baby clutches Din’s calf and keens, a high whining sound that plucks the man’s heartstrings. The poor child is having so much fun here. For the millionth time, Din wishes that they could stay on Sorgan. If the baby weren’t under his care then he would just take down the shock trooper and claim the planet for his hideout… Unfortunately, that would bring too much heat onto the pair.

Din tries again to convince the baby, raising his voice an octave to sound more excited, hopefully, it will catch the kid’s attention. “I’ll give you a treat when we’re back. How’s that sound, huh?”

It works, he thinks. The baby perks his ears up and lets out a curious coo, backing up from Din’s legs and looking down the path. Din smiles again then starts up his pace again, a little faster now that the sunshine has taken on a deeper hue.

They make good time, traveling several miles before dusk falls and the forest lays in shadow. It is a bit eerie now, bird song and animal calls have all but disappeared with the daylight. The only sound now is the rustling of leaves, insect buzzing, and an occasional breeze howling through the trees. Din flicks on his night vision setting and walks faster, forgetting in his haste that he needs to make sure that the child is keeping up.

Seconds later, a twig snaps and Din whips around, the sound is just too loud and heavy for the kid to make. There’s nothing behind him, no movement in the woods, no footprints or body-heat register, and the path is clear. Everything is fine- Wait.

The path is completely clear.

The kid is nowhere to be seen.

Panic floods Din’s body, intense, choking pressure crushing his limbs and chest with enough force to rip the air out of his lungs. The sensation is akin to being sucked into space, although Din would take that fate over the current fear that overwhelms him. Hunter’s instincts take over as his body moves automatically to search the trees, prowling the space around him while his mind watches numbly from afar. It’s odd, he feels like a specter observing from behind the veil, unable to control his actions. The trees blur together, choking panic becoming harder to ignore with every second that passes in his search.

He finds his voice. “Kid!” It comes out all wrong and hollow as if it were the cry of a stranger instead of Din’s voice. “Kid, where are you!?”

He ducks down to the forest floor, laying on his stomach and looking through the thick overgrowth at the child's eye level. Din hopes that the lower perspective will help him figure out where to look next, searching desperately for any eye-catching areas that may have drawn the kid. Unfortunately, nothing is out of the ordinary. Not even a suspicious twig.

Din sighs shakily and rises to his knees, about to give up and start grid searching when something catches his eye causing him to flatten once more. There was a flash of body heat on his current visor setting, the reddish-orange mark alarmingly vibrant against the darkness that surrounds him. Whatever produces the heat is only a few feet away, snuffling around a felled tree for its next meal. The fuzzy form is too big to be the kid, and if it eats meat then it may pose danger to a child the size of Din’s foundling.

Din doesn’t think before he launches himself at the creature.

It shrieks as he lands heavily by its side, his hands shooting out to snatch the animal, a rodent, and flip it over, praying that its species is inclined to being herbivores. His answer comes in the half-eaten bark that tumbles from the rodent's mouth as it lets out a shriek, its wide mouth lined with round teeth and eyes dilated in fear. Din lets the creature go, his stomach tight with fear for the child and guilt for scaring the creature. It skitters away to its den, unharmed.

The Mandalorian deflates, leaning forward until the forehead of his helmet rests on the forest floor. There is an empty place shredding inside of him, a place that was quickly woven by having the child at his side. It falls apart just as quickly.

Din should’ve found him by now, a baby that young can’t hide so well as to lose a seasoned hunter. He'll go back to the settlement and scout out potential kidnappers, running the Guilds database program and comparing faces until he recognizes the culprit. Before that, he should scan the area again, just in case. Maybe the baby crawled down a den with one of those rodents. Din screws his face up in despair, turning to settle his temple onto the dirt before opening his eyes and-

There, in the hollow of the felled trunk, are two staring black pupils twinkling at him from the dark. A giggle bubbles up from the kid’s mouth, soft white bark spraying in every direction as he laughs.

Din is fucking furious.

------------------------------------------

Children's laughter fills the air like a symphony, fitting perfectly against the background noise of bird song, tittering parents, and working krill farmers. Din’s foundling runs on short legs to keep up with the human children, jumping as best he can to swat at hovering butterflies that tease the excited crowd. He fits in perfectly here, the happiest Din has seen in the short time they’ve been together. He should leave him here once the Guild calms down in a few months.

Din flinches from inside his hut, the thought hurts too much to consider.

That will be months from now anyway, he doesn’t need to think about it. The only thing he should be concerned about is scouting the woods with Dune later, searching for the raiders that plague this community. For now, he can peacefully sit in his temporary lodging and observe life on Sorgan. It is a gentle one and, try as he might bury it, Din appreciates gentle things.

“Ow! Hey, he hit me!” One of the village’s children stands clutching his arm, glaring at his female friend who glumly scrapes the ground with a shoeless foot.

“I did not! It was the new kid.” The accused girl shoots back, pointing fervently at the little, green foundling who is standing agape in the crowd. “He did it!”

Din straightens at her accusation, annoyance rising from his chest to heat his cheeks. Does she think she’ll get away with the lie? He thinks hotly.

His kid- the kid is too short to even reach any of their shoulders, let alone hit them. How dare she accuse the baby. Adjusting his helmet, Din stalks out of the hut and approaches the children, ready to defend the child against all offending claims but the other adults reach the group first. He recognizes Omera and freezes when she shoots him a sharp look, her eyes speaking wordlessly. Don't make this worse.

“What happened here?” She asks in a firm, clear tone, pulling the three children closer to her and crouching to their eye level. The baby is transfixed, his mouth still hanging open as he twists his ears curiously at the woman. “Use your words and take turns please.”

The hurt child, named Kaigo if Din remembers correctly, huffs loud enough for Din to hear from where he stands 20 feet away. Kaigo raises his chin and looks down his nose at Omera before answering her. “Winta wanted to catch the butterfly first but I’m taller than her and gooder at catching bugs, so she hit me. The baby is too short to even hit me!”

Din nods. Damn right he's too short. And the kid doesn’t hit.

“Better, not gooder,” Omera gently corrects Kaigo, brushing away a strand of hair while tersely turning to Winta, her daughter. “Winta, is this true? I’ve taught you about using your words before actions.” Winta seems to be fascinated by the dirt ground, kicking her foot and refusing to meet her mother’s gaze.

Omera tries again, “Winta, look at me please.”

“Fine! I did hit him. But everyone is obsessed with the new baby and Mandalorian, and I wanted to catch a butterfly so that everyone will like me again!” The little girl chokes up at the end of her confession, falling into Omeras lap with her arms wrapped around her mother. The baby makes a distressed sound and places his little hands on Winta’s knee.

Din takes this as his cue to join them, long strides leading him across the clearing in mere seconds. The baby runs up and hugs his ankle when he spots the Mandalorian while Kaigo retreats to his friend group with wide eyes locked on the warrior. A hush falls over the children in his presence, as the setting sun behind Din lays his shadow over their huddled group. Everyone seemingly holds their breath. The loudest sound is Omera’s soothing hand patting Winta’s back.

Din leans into one leg feeling awkward, he doesn’t know how to address the little ones firmly without scaring them. After a few tense moments, he clears his throat and turns to Winta.

“I like you Winta. You have been very kind to the child.” The words come out halting and none too graceful but he means it, Winta and Omera have gone out of their way to welcome the bounty hunter and child, bringing him food and playing with the baby with open arms. Omera lends him a gracious smile when he speaks, a lovely sight that sends warmth throughout Din’s chest. Her daughter peeks from her hiding spot in Omera’s elbow, teary eyes stubborn and flashing in the sun.

“You don’t mean it.” She shoots back, harshly drawing her eyebrows together on her young face before burrowing into her hiding spot once more. The widow sighs and stops her soothing pats, stretching her arms above her head wearily. Din’s eyes catch on the curve of her neck then dart away, busying himself with picking up the baby who has started up a babble at his feet.

“Mando is nice, Winta. He’s helping us get rid of the raiders which he wouldn’t do if he disliked you. Come on,” she pulls the little girl upright and turns her reluctant body to face Din. “He’s helping us, sweetheart.”

One of the young boys interjects, from the gaggle of children. “Yeah! He’s a good guy!”

Din nods at the boy then tries copying Omera’s earlier actions by crouching to the height of the girl, extending one glove to Winta while the other keeps the baby held against his cuirass. “I promise. Shake on it. Bounty hunter shakes are very serious.”

Petulant eyes meet his own through the visor and he sucks in a startled breath, taken aback by the perceptive look. Most people tend to miss his eyes, always just slightly off enough to leave Din feeling unseen. The physical barrier of beskar leans into an emotional one as well. He’s noticing now that the children don’t miss his eyes as often.

Winta slowly reaches out and grips his finger, shaking up and down so seriously that Din wants to laugh. He holds it back knowing it would only hurt her feelings more, instead, he says, “there. your very first guild contract.”

Omera laughs softly and stands, picking Winta up off her lap and spinning her onto her back, child limbs wrapping around her slim figure like a spider. “Winta is not allowed to hunt bounties, sorry.”

“Shame. She is very skilled. Especially when it comes to catching butterflies.” He tilts his helmet knowingly at the little girl, who grins proudly back at him before remembering that she is supposed to be upset. Din smiles at her stubbornness, holding the foundling out to her to try and appease the attitude. Winta smiles and hesitantly holds the baby’s hand while he babbles and wriggles his ears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, frowning slightly in a way that seems self-directed. “I shouldn’t have lied. I like you. And I’m sorry Kaigo!” She shouts the last part to her friend. The baby laughs and starts flapping his arms, looking between his friend and the butterflies that still flutter just above the villagers. Winta squeals in delight and takes him in her spindly arms, hugging him tightly as he continues to imitate the colorful creatures.

It’s so silly that even Din laughs.

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thecoleopterawithana · 5 years ago

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When he wanted to, John could be an avid reader, and he decided to read every book in the house. In the afternoons we sat by the pool and read quietly. John became obsessed by two books Tony King had given him as gifts, Hunter Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Nigel Nicholson’s Portrait of a Marriage, which Tony said would remind John of his marriage to Yoko. John loved the Thompson book, a seamy study of a drug-involved journalist investigating the underbelly of America, and became obsessed with the notion of starring in a film version of the book. On the other hand Portrait of a Marriage really disturbed him. The book was an account of the fifty-year marriage of Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicholson, both of whom were bisexual and continually unfaithful to each other, yet were able to evolve a relationship of great depth and longevity despite the incompleteness of their marriage. John was very distressed by the theme of sexual incompatibility in the midst of great emotional attraction and the fact that no matter how hard one tries, a marriage may always remain incomplete.

In May Pang’s Loving John (1983).

[My profound gratitude goes to @eppysboys, who’s going through this insightful book and took the time to bring this gem to my attention.]

Regarding Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas:

It was later adapted into a film of the same title in 1998 by Terry Gilliam, starring Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro who portrayed Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo, respectively.

The novel lacks a clear narrative and frequently delves into the surreal, never quite distinguishing between what is real and what is only imagined by the characters. The basic synopsis revolves around journalist Raoul Duke (Hunter S. Thompson) and his attorney, Dr. Gonzo (Oscar Zeta Acosta), as they arrive in Las Vegas in 1971 to report on the Mint 400 motorcycle race for an unnamed magazine. However, this job is repeatedly obstructed by their constant use of a variety of recreational drugs, including LSD, ether, cocaine, alcohol, mescaline, and cannabis. This leads to a series of bizarre hallucinogenic experiences, during which they destroy hotel rooms, wreck cars, and have visions of anthropomorphic desert animals, all the while ruminating on the decline of both the "American Dream" and the '60s counterculture in a city of greed.

The preface quotes Samuel Johnson: "He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man." The quotation alludes to the protagonists' profuse drug use in escaping the coarse realities of American life; passages detail the failed counterculture, people who thought drug use was the answer to society's problems. The contradiction of "solace in excess" is thematically similar to The Great Gatsby. Thompson posits that his own drug use (unlike Timothy Leary's mind-expansion experimentation drug use) is intended to render him a mess; that he is the poster boy of a generation of "cripples and seekers..."; their erratic behaviour depicts the restless failure his generation feels. Throughout Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the protagonists go out of their way to degrade, abuse, and destroy symbols of American consumerism and excess, while Las Vegas symbolizes the coarse ugliness of mainstream American culture. [Source]

I've seen through junkies, I been through it all / I've seen religion from Jesus to Paul / Don't let them fool you with dope and cocaine / No one can harm you, feel yer own pain

LADD: What happened to the in-quotes “revolution”?

JOHN: Not the physical revolution, but the whole game that was going on? [pause] I think, in one way, all of us were under a slight illusion that we might… Maybe it wasn’t an illusion, and maybe had we pushed harder, we would’ve gotten what we wanted, but I’m not sure we – anybody really knew what we wanted. We knew we didn’t like what was happening, but nobody knew quite what – what it was that we wanted. ‘Cause we’d never had it.

— Interview w/ Jim Ladd. (October 10th, 1974)

[John talking about waking up from the dream that was the idealism of the 60s as a metaphor for waking up from the dream of his own life]

About Portrait of a Marriage:

Vita Sackville-West, novelist, poet, and biographer, is best known as the friend of Virginia Woolf, who transformed her into an androgynous time-traveler in Orlando. The story of Sackville-West's marriage to Harold Nicolson is one of intrigue and bewilderment. In Portrait of a Marriage, their son Nigel combines his mother's memoir with his own explanations and what he learned from their many letters. Even during her various love affairs with women, Vita maintained a loving marriage with Harold. Portrait of a Marriage presents an often misunderstood but always fascinating couple. [Source]

The classic story of the relationship between Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson, and a unique portrait of the Bloomsbury Group. The marriage was that between the two writers, Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson and the portrait is drawn partly by Vita herself in an autobiography which she left behind at her death in 1962 and partly by her son, Nigel. It was one of the happiest and strangest marriages there has ever been. Both Vita and Harold were always in love with other people and each gave the other full liberty 'without enquiry or reproach', knowing that their love for each other would be unaffected and even strengthened by the crises which it survived. This account of their love story is now a modern classic. [Source]

Even though I have not read this book, I can’t help but wonder if the assessment that the marriage was “incomplete” in the absence of sex and/or monogamy was perhaps not a feeling expressed by the participants, but rather a projection of John’s own anxieties.

John was very distressed by the theme of sexual incompatibility in the midst of great emotional attraction and the fact that no matter how hard one tries, a marriage may always remain incomplete.

The phrasing of the issue is so on point, that despite May’s developed emotional intelligence, these ideas appear to me as having been expressed by John himself (whose indulging in deep introspecting often made him quite apt at identifying his feelings).

It’s just handy to fuck your best friend. That’s what it is. And once I resolved the fact that it was a woman as well, it’s all right. We go through the trauma of life and death every day so it’s not so much of a worry about what sex we are anymore.

— John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: Yoko Ono and her sixteen-track voice. (March 18th, 1971)

It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [...] It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

— John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

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bobasheebaby · 4 years ago

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At Last- Following Her Heart Wedding

Pairing: Athena x Perceval

Word count: 5,613

Warnings: tear jerking fluff, drama, 🍋

Summary: Athena and Percy finally have their wedding.

A/N: I know. I know, about time, don’t worry any gaps in the story will be filled in with time. After this we shall be moving forward to babies in a new series that features them married and expanding their family since my muse is showing that more clearly than the lead up.

A/N2: Leo’s ceremony borrowed from PB, my own twist added. Vows are completely mine.

A/N3: prompt is from the Grey’s Anatomy prompt list requested by @loveellamae 12 “You were like coming up for fresh air. It’s like I was drowning and you saved me.” — Derek Shepard Percy prompt will be bolded.

A/N4: the beautiful commissioned artwork at the end was done by the insanely talented @somewillwinthank you so much for the gorgeous pictures that capture my couple so perfectly. (Pictures definitely helped me finish this too.)

A/N5: a HUGE thank you to @loveellamae for prereading and to @sirbeepsalot for prereading, being my cheerleader along the way and being the best damn beta reader ever! Love you boos!

A/N6: Written as part of @choicesmaychallenge hosted by @kinda-iconic for day 16 Sunset.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I only own Percy, Alex and Bailey, the rest I’m borrowing from PB.

Athena turned to face Percy as the first streak of color kissed the sky. Purples, pinks, and oranges painted the sky, the brilliant colors reflecting across the ocean as they joined hands.

She beamed at him, her caramel eyes sparkling in the light of the tiki torches that lined the silk runner marking her aisle. He looked at her with such love and devotion that tears pricked at her eyes. This is it.

Everything she’d been through, conquered, and endured led her to this very moment. From the second she stepped onto the private plane her future was uncertain. There had been a chance that she would become a queen and rule beside a kind and benevolent king. There had been a time when she believed they were in love and that she belonged by his side. She had thought she’d lost her only chance at true happiness the night he called another woman’s name.

It was now clear to her that each and every step had her here, to him.

Every moment of pain dissipated as she stared into his twinkling hazel eyes. Nothing else mattered. She was where she belonged. Every tear she shed in hurt or anger was worth it in the end.

It no longer mattered that the importance of his title had been thrust upon them as they planned their special day. Everything was as it was meant to be. She was finally following her heart and marrying the man who saw her for her and not what she could be by his side.

She lightly squeezed his hand as she turned toward Leo, a groomsman turned officiant at the last minute. It was a change that might leave any other bride reeling; for her, it felt fitting. Nothing had gone according to plan since she stepped on Cordonian soil. A wedding officiated by a friend seemed more intimate and felt right.

This is going to be fun. Her eyes leveled with Leo’s sea green. Far from perfect, yet perfectly us. She stifled a laugh when he winked as he started to address the crowd.

“I know I don’t spend as much time in Cordonia as I used to, but for an occasion like this, I was happy to return home. Today, I’m here to help celebrate the wedding of Athena Morgan, and my close friend Perceval Hunter, the man who’s lucky enough to wed her. Originally I was meant to be in the wedding, but shit happens and I was more than happy to step in for my lifelong friend. Someone had to marry them, might as well be me.

Enough about me, let’s get to the marrying part, shall we?

There are many different wedding traditions around the world … some that involve more leaping over fire pits than others. But at its heart, every wedding is about one thing: the love between a couple and the bond they have chosen to share.

Here in Cordonia, we like to think of marriage as a promise. The promise that you will renew your love and commitment to one another every day that you are together.

Just as planting a seed is not enough for it to grow into an apple tree, speaking your vows is not enough for a marriage to truly flourish. But if you nurture and cherish one another, your relationship will always grow stronger.”

Percy gently squeezed Athena’s hand as they both nodded, turning to face one another.

“Good. Now, I believe you wanted to recite your own vows.”

Percy’s thumb brushed across Athena’s knuckles as she started to speak. “Percy, meeting you was purely by chance, but the stars truly aligned the day that brought you into my life.” She glanced down at their joined hands.

“When I met you, I was questioning every decision I ever made since coming to Cordonia. What I had thought was a sure thing had unraveled. I had been ready to leave but something kept me here. I know now that it was you.”

She smiled as he mouthed ‘I love you’ while giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“That night on the train you claimed my heart. You were the piece of me that had always been missing; finding you has made me happier than I could ever put into words.

Each day with you is a new adventure I will never forget. I vow to cherish every moment we share over the years and to love you more each and every day.

I’m so thankful you came into my life and that I get to call you my husband.”

“That was beautiful.” Leo smiled, nodding to Perceval.

“Athena, when we met I felt a spark that I never thought I’d ever feel. You called yourself broken, but I have only ever seen you as strong and courageous.

I’ve always called you my Doll, and I led you to believe that it was because you were broken that night, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I saw a woman who carried a strength within her, a woman who deserved to be cherished. I have never been as drawn to someone as I am to you.

You make me the happiest I’ve ever been, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have your heart. I promise to only make you cry tears of joy. I will strive every day to make you feel as cherished and loved as you deserve.

No matter what the future brings, I can’t wait to experience it with you by my side.”

“Thank you both. Now, would the ringbearer please come forward.”

Chance yipped as he stood from his resting place by Percy’s feet. He took the few steps forward to Leo before carefully dropping the tulle bag into his outstretched hand.

“Thanks buddy.” Leo said, patting Chance’s head.

Chance gave a happy bark before he trotted back to Percy’s feet, where he plopped down, resting his head on the sun warmed sand.

Athena softly laughed at Chance as she delicately plucked the warm vintage band from Leo’s palm. Chance quickly becoming attached to Percy was one of the many reasons she found it so easy to let down her guard and let him into her heart. She couldn’t help but wonder, if Maxwell had not begged her to take in the abandoned corgi would she have still followed the same path? Was she always meant to be standing here in front of the man that swept her off her feet and helped piece her shattered heart back together?

“Perceval Hunter, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and in times of trial, till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Athena Morgan, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you vow to love him, comfort him, and cherish him, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and in times of trial, till death do you part?”

“I do.”

Athena carefully slipped the vintage golden band onto Percy’s finger, the deep etchings and five small diamonds glinting in the light of the flickering flame as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.

Percy held her hand in his left as he slowly slipped the diamond band onto her finger. The seven diamonds creating a gentle, sparkling curve in the waning light. The band wasn’t a perfect match to his mother’s ring, but would compliment it well enough. While she felt honored that he loved her enough to give her his mother’s ring the rings were mere symbols of their love. The old and new would blend perfectly no matter what, maybe she’d pass them both down one day.

Athena glanced at her hand adorned with the rose gold ring, her smile stretched as she imagined her heirloom teardrop ring sitting in front of it. She once again locked eyes with Percy, her husband, unshed tears shined back at her matching her own.

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom of Cordonia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May this blessed union be sealed with a kiss!”

She tenderly cupped his bearded cheek the world around them melted away. The man who really saw her now finally hers in every sense of the word, and she was his.

Her head tilted up, her lips meeting his in a soft, love-filled kiss that echoed every word they spoke to each other and every unspoken word held in their hearts. They pulled apart, her hand slipping into his as the sounds of cheering filtered into her reverie from their guests mixing with the roar of the waves meeting the shore.

They made their way down the aisle in the sand, Chance happily trotting behind them. It was impossible to miss the one solemn face amongst the happy crowd of friends and loved ones. She felt a small twinge at the pain etched in his face. She looked up at Percy, unwilling to allow her happiness to be dampened. One glimpse of Percy’s smiling face and all pain instantly melted away; she was exactly where she belonged.

Athena’s eyes crinkled as she beamed at the photographer taking pictures of her and Percy in multiple poses; Chance sat firmly at their feet.

The photographer looked down at his digital screen. “Could we get a few shots without the dog?”

Athena laughed. “You’d have better luck rubbing sandpaper on a tiger's ass than getting Chance to leave Percy’s side willingly.” She instantly thought of the first night they’d spent together. They’d fallen asleep talking as they waited for Chance to fall asleep. Percy’s patience and understanding when dealing with the corgi was merely one of a million reasons he captured her heart.

The photographer sighed. “Okay, then. Can we have the groomsmen and bridesmaids?”

Athena’s eyes grew wide and her smile dropped a bit as Maxwell came towards them with the grey top hat he promised he’d only wear during the reception settled on his head. “Maxwell! Top hat!”

Maxwell looked at her sheepishly as he pulled the top hat off. He slowly moved to place it on a chair. “Can’t I just take one picture with it?” He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Please little blossom?”

Athena let out a sigh. “One picture …”

“Yay—”

“At the end.”

Maxwell made a show of slumping his shoulders in defeat as he laid the hat on the seat. “Okay fine,” he agreed as he joined the group, a smile once again present on his face.

The photographer snapped away, pictures of the entire wedding party, the groomsmen with the bridesmaids, groomsmen, bridesmaids, a few of just Athena staring off at the water. With the last of the natural light waning, he called the maid of honor and best man forward.

Alex smirked as he slipped his arm around Bailey. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Red.”

Bailey forcibly rolled her eyes. “I’m not the only redhead here, you know.”

“Only one I’m interested in, besides she looks a little … preoccupied.” He replied, his eyes falling on Olivia, who was thoroughly engrossed with her phone.

“I already told you I’m seeing someone.”

“Are they here? Would love to meet the lucky guy or gal that caught your eye.”

Bailey swallowed. How was she supposed to answer that? They were both there, but not with her. Drake couldn’t date her publicly and, since the trip to Applewood, Liam had taken her out less and less. She hadn’t been to a public event with him since the Homecoming Ball.

She understood -- or that’s what she kept telling him. Maybe it was herself she was telling. He had just made a public admission of his love for her cousin, who was now married to another man. Liam had to tread carefully for all three of them. A relationship held within palace walls was becoming tiresome, but she still cared deeply for both. She could endure.

She gave a soft, hopefully not too forced smile. “No, he couldn’t make it.” The lie twisted in her gut, but she couldn’t tell him the truth.

Alex hummed in response and she noticed his hold on her waist loosened. “His loss.”

She just nodded, fearful she might backtrack and admit the truth.

“Just one dance.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t have to stand by on the sidelines just because her boyfriend was too busy.”

The words felt like a gut punch. He wasn’t too busy, they just weren’t official. Was that the word? He told her every day he loved her -- they both did -- yet they all came to the wedding as ‘singles’.

Maybe she could dance with Liam, but she knew they’d both feel guilty about Drake the entire time. Drake didn’t dance, or maybe he did since college, but even so their minds would remain elsewhere.

Her other options were Leo, who seemed to be having an argument with his wife on the phone, and Maxwell. Maxwell was sweet, but she knew she’d never be able to keep up with him on the dance floor.

Her sage green eyes met his olive green. She gulped, the look in his eyes could nearly rival the one Perceval had when he looked at Athena. “Okay, one dance.”

Percy led Athena to the portable dance floor that was laid out on the soft sand as the opening notes began to play.

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

They gracefully glided around the floor in perfect step. Her caramel eyes sparkled with love as she looked up at him. “This is all like a dream. To think that you talking to me that night would save me.” She shook her head. “Thank you for really seeing me.”

“I should be thanking you. You saved me.” He twirled her out pulling her closer once she returned to his arms.

Oh yeah yeah

At last

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

She looked up at him with questioning eyes. “How did I save you?”

“I was a bachelor partly by choice. Most of the women I dated had a different idea of what it meant to be noble. It was all status to them. You were like coming up for fresh air. By the time I met you, I’d resolved to never getting married. You get me in ways that no one else did. It’s like I was drowning and you saved me.”

I found a dream, that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Why don’t we just say we saved each other?”

He smiled. “I like that.”

He playfully dipped her, both laughing and smiling as he pulled her back into his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She tilted her head up, giving him a tender kiss.

Oh yeah yeah

You smiled, you smiled

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine ...

At Last

Athena blushed as they pulled apart as she suddenly remembered all eyes were on them.

The sound of silverware clinking against crystal filtered through the air, drowning out the soft sound of the waves kissing the shoreline a few yards down the sand. Athena’s cheeks tinged pink as she looked to her husband, her stomach flipped at the thought. A year ago she would have never thought she would be across the ocean and married to a man who made her feel like she was walking on air.

As much as she loved kissing him, doing so on command felt strange. She smiled as Percy tucked a stray curl behind her ear. He rested his palm on her cheek as he leaned down, planting a chaste kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes staring into hers.

“I love you too.” Her fingertips brushed across his bearded cheek. “Everyone is watching.”

“Let them.” He replied giving her another peck on the lips before reluctantly pulling apart.

“Okay you two lovebirds.” Alex chuckled, sending Percy a wink. “Save it for the wedding night.” He raised his champagne flute. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

Athena bit back a giggle; she was sure Tabitha was fuming somewhere in the crowd at Alex’s impromptu toast.

“I’ve known Perceval for a long time, since the day I met him back in boarding school he has always been the kind of guy you could count on. He was always down to Earth and hated the title he was born to, even if it got us both out of trouble with the dean.

The one quality he always said he wanted in the person whom he married was someone who could see past all the etiquette and titles and see who he really is. You don’t need to spend much time with Perceval and Athena to see that she does in fact see him for who he is, regardless of title.

Athena, I have spent more than half of my life being friends with Perceval, and I have never seen him as happy as he is with you. I wish you both a long and happy union full of love and joy. To the bride and groom.”

Athena lifted her champagne flute as the sentiments were echoed across the sand.

“I guess it’s me.” Bailey giggled as she stood, brushing down her knee length skirt. She turned to face the newlywed couple, smiling at her cousin with tears in her eyes.

“Athena, you are my cousin and best friend; more than that, you are my sister. You have always been happy, but, when Uncle Nick and Aunt Pat died, I noticed your eyes didn’t shine as brightly until you met Perceval.

Perceval, you are the kind of man I always pictured Athena marrying; you are kind and caring and you love my cousin completely. I know that with you by her side that her smile will never falter.

While Uncle Nick and Aunt Pat can’t be here today I know in my heart that they would be proud of the woman you’ve become and welcome Perceval to our family with open arms.

So welcome Perceval. I wish you and Athena all the love and happiness in the world. To a long and blessed union.”

Damnit Bailey. I told you not to make me cry. Athena thought blinking back tears welling at her cousin's words. She took a second small sip of the dry champagne before setting the flute back onto the table.

“You okay?”

She looked to Percy as his hand covered hers. “I’m fine, you worry too much.”

Athena looked up as Tabitha tapped her shoulder. “It’s time for the cake cutting.” Tabitha said, smiling sweetly.

Athena looked back at her barely touched meal. Between speaking with guests and the million excited butterflies swarming in her stomach, she’d barely been able to enjoy the menu Percy had planned. She turned back to Tabitha, taking Percy’s outstretched hand. “Okay.” I’ll just eat later when things calm down a bit.

Athena and Percy stood in front of their three tier buttercream frosted cake. The adorning fresh roses almost seemed to sparkle under the twinkling fairy lights. She glanced up at him as the cake knife glided through the cake.

Everything still felt so surreal; the entire day was like she was floating on a cloud. All the tears she spilled during the planning of their wedding no longer mattered. Their day was here, and it was everything she dreamed of.

She picked up a bite of cake turning to Percy, her husband. Her cheeks hurt from grinning so widely all day. She held the sweet confection to his lips.

“Smash it in his face!”

She shook her head at Alex’s request.

Nothing could dampen this day. It was utterly perfect; they were finally husband and wife. Even if the heavens opened up and rained down on them she knew she would still look up at him with a smile on her face and love in her heart, laughing at the surprise shower.

She carefully took the delicate bite from his fingers, her eyes closing as the flavors exploded on her tongue. It was as delicious as the day she’d picked it.

“You have a little cake right here.” He said pointing to the corner of her lip.

“Can you get it for me?”

She gently sighed as his arms slipped around her waist and kissed her.

Her heart soared as she envisioned their life together. Their home would be filled with so much joy and laughter.

“Could today get anymore perfect?”

“I have a few ideas …”

“Oh?”

He nodded, his eyes sparkling brightly.

“I’m listening …”

Bailey’s arms hung loosely around Alex’s neck as they swayed on the dance floor. She should have known that Alex would pick a slow song, he didn’t believe she was really dating someone and it wasn’t like she could confess the truth.

The truth. What was the truth? She was with Liam and Drake, or that’s what they said in private. Outside the palace she couldn’t hold hands or kiss either one of them. Liam had taken to avoiding the topic of him dating and his search for a queen, instead pushing reporters to the coming nuptials of Duke Perceval and Athena.

Bailey hadn't missed the way his jaw tensed every time he brought up the wedding, yet he did it time and time again. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would use as a buffer now that the wedding was over. Would he ever introduce her as his girlfriend and potential queen? She glanced up at Alex. Is that what she still wanted?

All this time, had she been subconsciously pulling away from them? Why else hadn’t she voiced her concerns to Liam and Drake?

Bailey quickly looked away, trying to force the unbidden thoughts away. She loved Drake and Liam, she was just being stupid. She shouldn’t be questioning their feelings for her; they loved her too, right?

She sucked in a breath as she met Liam’s eye. She couldn’t miss the hurt etched on his face even from so far away. Her stomach knotted because she didn’t want to hurt either one of them; she just didn’t like being hidden.

How the hell had Drake handled it for so many damn years? No wonder Athena fell for Perceval. He was available and showered her with affection no matter where they were. He always made her feel loved and cherished . She wanted that, not to be a secret in the night.

She shifted her arms, unconsciously moving closer to Alex. Her heart hammered in her chest as he tightened his hold on her hips. She knew she should pull away, tell him to put more space between them.

Instead, her body leaned in closer, the heat of his body soaking into hers. What was she doing? Tell him it was a mistake, step back.

She tilted her head up, her lips slightly parted to speak. Her head felt cloudy and she lost the ability to speak or even breathe as he leaned down. She needed to step back, push him away, something, anything to stop him but she couldn’t. It was as if her body was frozen, but not in fear. Did she actually want this? Did she want to kiss him? She couldn't want this, she shouldn’t be letting him get so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips.

Turn your head!! Stop this. Time seemed to slow. Or was he just giving her a chance to stop him?

Why wasn’t she stopping him?

Her breath hitched as his lips inched closer to hers. What was she doing? She was taken -- she already gave her heart away. Push him away, this is your last chance!

His lips were soft and warm as they met hers, and her arms instinctively pulled him closer. It was as though her brain short circuited as all thoughts of telling him this was a mistake ceased. All thoughts left her mind, leaving only the way his palms went flat on her back as he pulled her closer.

Her body was flush to his as they stood still in the center of the temporary dance floor. When had they stopped dancing?

She gasped as his lips pressed harder to hers, their lips moving together in tandem. Her body tingled, every nerve ending alive. What was even happening?

She pressed herself closer to him, acting purely on instinct. His grasp tightened and his tongue swiped against her lip. God, what was she doing? Did she want this more than she thought?

She pulled back, leaving them both stunned. “I … I …” she stuttered stepping backward. Tears stung at her eyes. She wanted it, but she shouldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fell to his sides as he watched her retreat with wide eyes. “It —”

She shook her head, “I shouldn’t have,” she said as she turned and ran towards the crashing waves.

Alex stood stunned. He could still feel her lips against his. She kissed me back. He wasn’t even sure why he leaned in in the first place. He had every intention of respecting her, it was just a dance between friends. He hadn’t expected her to move closer to him; he hadn't planned on kissing her. It was as if they were drawn to each other much like a moth to a flame.

The moment he leaned in he had been sure she would push him away but she didn’t. Did she want it too? He was pulled from his thoughts as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up into whiskey colored eyes that flickered as though they were on fire.

“What the hell -- she told you she had a boyfriend and to back off!” Drake growled through gritted teeth. Anger coursed through him and it took everything in him to not deck the piece of shit in the face.

Alex shook the shock from his face. “Maybe instead of getting in my face you should be more concerned with the reason a guy would claim to be too busy to escort someone as great as her to her own cousin’s wedding.”

“She said that?” Drake felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck. Is that how she feels? Confusion filled his mind. Things had been complicated from the beginning but he thought they were all as happy as they could be given that they remained hidden. Sure, it was hard to pretend she was only a friend, but it’s what they needed to do.

“Yeah,” Alex gave him a cocky grin, “maybe instead of being pissed at me you should go tell off the piece of shit that made her go stag.”

Drake saw red; this asshole had no fucking room to talk. He continuously made unwanted advances towards Bailey and now he wanted to make him and Liam out to be the bad guys?

The pulsing pounding of the blood rushing in his ears was all he could hear as he clenched his fist.

He pulled his fist back, intent on showing Alex what happened when he walked around like a smug arrogant bastard who could have whomever he wanted.

He stepped forward, the anger leaving him as his fist collided with Alex’s jaw.

“Drake! What the hell?!”

Drake shook his head as Liam’s surprised shout reached his ears. “This piece of shit kissed Bailey.”

“What do you care? It’s not like you’re her boyfriend.” Alex's eyes sparkled as he made the simple connection. “I mean, how messed up would that be? Dating her but no one knows.”

Drake stared slack jawed. Did this fucker figure it out? Would this cocky bastard expose them all?

“Besides, it’s not like she didn’t kiss me back.”

Drake and Liam shared a stunned look as both men felt their stomachs sink.

“She what?” Liam questioned trying to make sense of what was unfolding. He’d been surprised when he saw Bailey dancing with Alex, so to hear he kissed her and she returned it had him reeling.

“She kissed me back. Guess that boyfriend of hers can’t keep her satisfied, which is not surprising since he couldn’t be bothered to join her for her cousin’s wedding.”

“Do you want me to hit you again?”

“Sure, maybe it’ll actually hurt this time.”

Drake drew his arm back ready to land another blow, intent of wiping the smirk from Alex’s smug face.

“Drake, stop!”

Bailey’s voice froze him in place.

“What are you doing?” Her heart pounded in her chest. She’d gone to the shore to clear her mind only to be pulled from her mixed up thoughts by the sounds of shouting.

She pulled away because she was scared. Scared of how much she wanted it and how far she’d let it go. Scared of what her jumbled feelings meant for her Drake and Liam. Did they even have a chance anymore? Did they ever truly have a chance when they had to remain hidden?

Drake turned, the hurt in his eyes enough to punch all the air from her lungs. “You kissed him back?”

Shit! She needed to talk to them, to explain all she was feeling, the hurt of being hidden and the confusion that led to her kissing back Alex. That’s gonna be an awkward conversation. As much as she knew they needed to speak, she knew it couldn’t be there with everyone watching. Double shit! The realization that one bad decision had derailed Athena’s wedding weighing heavy on her shoulders.

Thena is gonna be so pissed! Her eyes scanned the guests looking for her cousin. “Where is Thena?”

“Athena and Perceval ducked out before shit hit the fan.”

Percy and Athena stumbled into their room locked in a heated kiss. She wildly clawed at his jacket, pulling the garment down his arms, the linen fabric landing in a heap before the door clicked close.

Since the moment she said ‘I do,’ she felt an intense pull to be claimed by him. Every cell in her body screamed for him to show her, tell her, make her his.

Her fingers threaded in his obsidian locks and she let out a breathy sigh, her head tilting back as he trailed kisses along the slender slope of her neck.

She stumbled backwards, her hands fell to his chest, her fingers frantically undoing his buttons. She was desperate with need. She needed to feel every inch of him pressed against her.

She moaned, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he peppered kisses across her collarbone and down her chest.

Desire prickled across her skin. “Percy,” she gasped, “I need you ...”

He looked up, the hunger in his eyes mirroring her own nearly taking her breath away. “The bed …”

She shook her head. “Too far.” The few steps to the bed felt like miles; if she waited any longer her desire would surely consume her alive. “Need you now.” Her hands dropped to his belt, fingers nimbly working it free.

He let out a feral growl, his hand gliding over the curve of her hip. His fingers caught the smooth fabric, hiking it over her hipbone as he spun her. Her back pressed into the wall as she shoved his pants down his thighs, his hardened length springing free.

She never felt such overwhelming desire before. She was positive she wouldn’t survive if she waited much longer.

To be skin to skin, his body against hers. Every movement took too long. Each second moving forward at a tortuously slow pace.

His hand ghosted her hip as he gripped the back of her thighs lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, breath catching in her throat as he rubbed against her clothed core.

Please.

Her hands rested on his shoulders as he bunched her dress around her waist. She whimpered as he pushed her white lace thong to the side.

So close, yet still so far. Each passing second only made her desire grow. How much longer could she wait?

Her head fell back with a gasped yes as he slowly inched into her.

She finally felt complete, giving herself over to him entirely.

She clutched to his back as he thrust into her. Her walls squeezing around his length.

Her fingers curved into his back. It felt so good. Did it always feel this good? Was it possible they somehow were more connected?

Her mind swirled, overwhelmed by feelings. Every stroke broughther closer to the edge.

Her back arched and legs shook as she came with a soundless scream, her pulsing walls bringing him to completion.

He brushed her hair back as she looked at him with a dazed expression. “I love you.”

She smiled dreamily. “Love you too.”

He slowly lowered her to her feet, his arms holding her steady. His lips brushed across her sweaty hairline as he kissed her forehead. “Better?”

She nodded, “yes … bath and then round two.”

“Or … round two in the bath.”

“I like the way you think.”

Feedback fuels me, feel free to scream I can take it.

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dragonastra · 4 years ago

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1-100 on the DnD questions, for Deah >:3

Wow you're sure as hell fishing to kill me huh xD

I'll answer these under a read more cuz FUCK. I'll also try to keep it spoiler free -- I may mention stuff that hasn't come up in game but it would be stuff that might not ever come up explicitly anyway. Everything else has either been said or can be gleaned.

If your character wasn’t an adventurer, what livelihood would they lead Probably what she had been doing -- being a pirate

Who in the party would your character trust the most with their life Probably Maddie and/or Gael. Maddie is a divine soul sorcerer and probably the one Deah is closest to. Gael is our barbarian/paladin who is probably the emotional backbone of the group? He is very earnest and genuine, and also hits like a brick house.

What are your character’s core moral beliefs? [Brushes off notes I made like a year ago] Promises must be kept, and debts one day fulfilled. Clean up the messes you made. Family is more important than self. Survival means not letting the past define you. (Not all morals but those are her ideals)

What relationship does your character have with their parents and siblings? She has a twin brother, whom she would die for. Their relationship used to be solid, but theyve currently broken apart somewhat due to lies and building tension, and the brother needing to go his own way. She is still very broken up about it. Her parents are both dead, and she has not spoken of much closeness there, but describes them as "they tried their best." Her pirate captain was basically a surrogate father for her teenage years and onward until their separation, and she... misses him.

Does your character have any biases for or against certain races? Not really. She probably doesnt trust ratfolk based on where she grew up, but beyond that? If you're good, you're good.

What is your character’s opinion on nobility? On authority? (: fuck em. She is... shall we say... less inclined to help rich people.

Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc. She's grown out her undercut so she has an asymmetrical style, one side of her head buzzed. She is still wearing her bright red pirate coat, but now wears a dark brown vest with purple accents underneath, as well as a long black sleeve to cover magical scars she received when she accepted a warlock pact with the hunter god. Also covering her scars is a gauntlet made by Maddie, so that they can't be detected by Detect Good and Evil and such.

What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most? Sometimes she still thinks about that nap she had on the beach at a random island they had stopped at to restock on food.

What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship? As i mentioned, she has a pact with the hunter god, Erastil. She does not worship him. In fact, she rather doesnt like gods much. She doesnt really understand other worshippers, but if they're not hurting anyone with it she doesn't really care. Their worship doesnt affect her.

If your character had time to pick up any artisan’s tools, game set, instrument, etc., what would it be? Let's get this binch some navigator's tools finally!

Describe your character’s current relationship with the player character sitting to your right. We are entirely online so we don't really have table seating. Based on the order of our nicknames in discord though, that would be... Haru, our new kitsune Oracle who joined us to fill a gap while some other players went on hiatus. Deah is uncertain about him, and she is generally pretty wary about strangers in her party, but he is useful. Their relationship is not deep by any means tbh.

What is your character’s current goal, summed up in one sentence? Stop the lord of the sea, and stop Aleksander.

Does your character ever want to “settle down” with a spouse, children, house, etc.? ;) you'll have to ask her

Has your character ever been in love? Before the campaign, certainly not. She's hella ace, and doesn't open up easily, so she's got some confusing feelings right now for Maddie ;)

What battle in the campaign has been most memorable to your character The battle against Tokt, since this was the battle that she was able to help save a person from being possessed by a demon -- something she figured out beforehand and convinced her team about.

If your character wasn’t whatever class they are, what would they be instead? I mean... probably a fighter???? Or maybe a full warlock, if she was desperate enough.

What is your character’s favorite season? Probably the fall? Sailing is usually good during that time, plus the harvest is coming in on land, so there's a lot of fresh food.

What would your character’s Zodiac sign be, following stereotypical astrology? She would be an Aries based on her birthday! Our homebrew world just uses "Season Day" as time markers, with 90 days each season. She was born on Spring 12, which would translate to the first week of April.

Where in the world does your character most want to visit? She's been all over as an adventurer and a sailor. The place she'd like to visit the most is one she doesn't know about -- somewhere important to her old captain.

What is the biggest mistake your character has ever made? Deah would maybe even say joining the pirates. It was the happiest she'd ever been, but it led her brother to a path he regrets and feels pain over, and she feels a... bit guilty about that.

Does your character have any noticeable scars? If so, what are their stories? The only scars she has are from her pact to Erastil. She hides them, though. She's not ashamed of them, but she likes to keep them to herself... she's private like that.

What animal best represents your character? I always liken her to a hawk, especially a sea hawk. In some ways she’s like a cobra or a porcupine too -- kind of hard to get close to!

If your character could go back in time and change one thing about their life, what would it be? 😬

Which other player character does your character find themselves having the most in common with? I don't know about most in common, really, but she gets along easiest with Ro, our halfling. Their banter is 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻. Honestly though? She probably has the most in common with Mercy, our tiefling fighter/paladin.

Does your character regret any particular choice the party has made? She probably regrets the party not staying behind in a certain town after a powerful enemy escaped. They thought the immediate threat had been dealt with and that another team from their guild could keep watch over the town, but then that team got surprised by an undead and two of them died. She feels at least partially responsible for that.

What would your character say their best trait would be? Her ability to perceive and track things. She has the observant feat plus the invocation that lets her see through even magical darkness!

What is your character’s greatest fear? Deep, irrational? Being abandoned.

What is currently motivating your character to stay with the party? No where else to go, really. Like, sure, she likes at least most of them and they've been through a lot!!! And she DOES you know, feel like this is a stable job, and she does feel good helping people. But... she really does have no where else to go. :(

What are your character’s hobbies and interests outside of their class? She does enjoy reading, though she's a little slow. Her favorite books are detective/mystery novels! She also sometimes likes to practice magic tricks (like... sleight of hand stuff). And technically this isnt outside of her class, but she really does enjoy training. Let's her burn off steam.

What would most people think when they first see your character? Pretty little waif, but that resting bitch face looks like she will cut me of I even say hello (this is by design).

What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?) [Googles five man band] probably Lancer. Initially she wanted to be the Leader type but with the group dynamics and her own insecurities and issues, that isnt really truly possible for her. But she still tries to lead...

What is your character the most insecure about? :)

What person does your character admire most? Her old ship captain. Her DEAD ship captain :(

What does your character admire and dislike the most about the player character sitting to your left? She admires maddie's strength and kindness (and to a degree, innocence). Maddie's cooking skills. Maddie's family. She dislikes how nervous/anxious and possibly depressed Maddie can get :c

Why is your character’s lowest stat their lowest (the in-character reason, not “because there’s no reason for a wizard to have 16 strength, duh”)? Her lowest stat is strength, and her second lowest is constitution. This is because she grew up poor, and was at times starving and definitely malnourished. Once she was om the pirate ship, she was regularly fed though.

What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music? I've been saying if she was in modern time, her favorite band would be Florence and the Machine. There's just something about the Florence sound that speaks to her. She'd definitely be into that kind of music, plus some heavier stuff leaning more towards metal or symphonic metal...

What stereotypical role would your character play in a high school AU/if they attended a normal high school? (Nerd, jock, bully, goth, etc.) She's got the soul of a goth but the hobbies of a jock (in our team's college AU she's totally on the fencing and sailing teams). When I've drawn her in modern day she is usually wearing athleisure (capris leggings, loose tank top, sports bra, e.g.) but also it's mostly dark colors. She's Joth.

What treasure/item/artifact that your character has collected during the adventure is the most important to them? Toby :) just kidding, the pseudodragon isn't an item!!! Specifically collected during the adventure, probably her force blade. Her brother had found it, but had given it to her, near the beginning of the adventure.

Is there any particular weapon, item, etc. that your character longs to find? She's not really looking out for items, no.

Where does your character feel the most at home? On the beach, on the ship. Specific locations to call home, she does finally feel like she has a stable place to call home in the patty's estate.

Does your character care about how they’re perceived by others? How do they change themselves to fit in with other people? She's worn disguises and fake names before, but that's mostly to protect herself during her pirate years. She doesn't care a whole lot, but she does want to appear somewhat intimidating so that unsavoury people won't approach her LMAO. But she also wants to be seen as nice by children and poor folk, so she does soften a bit when they're around.

What does your character think is the true meaning of life? Happiness. Safety. Survival. Family/community.

What is your character’s scent? (Bonus points for a description that sounds like it could be from a bad [or awesome] fanfic.) She's always got a slight scent of salt on her, reminding you just a bit of the sea. For herself, she prefers to just smell... clean, so there's a fresher floral scent lingering...

Does your character think more with their heart or their brain? She tries to think more with her brain but sometimes the bottled up emotions get to be a bit much.

What is your character’s most recent or frequent nightmare? BEING. ABANDONED.

What opinion does your character have on [CERTAIN ESTABLISHED GROUPS/AUTHORITIES IN THE GAME WORLD]? (Dragonmarked Houses, royal crown, etc.) She hates (most) rich people and used to be a pirate, so you can kind of figure it out.

How did your character spend their childhood? Where did they grow up/who were their childhood friends? :(

What aspect of your character’s future are they most curious about? (If they could know one thing about the future, what would it be?) I dunno man she is just taking things one step at a time.

What colors are associated with your character? Red is her primary color. She also uses blacks/dark grays and a light purple as an accent. She's using more brown now tho to represent her connection to the hunter god.

Who in the party would your character prioritize rescuing, in dire circumstances? Maddie always. Then Ro. Then Gael. Haru would probably be up there because he is squishy and also mostly blind.

Is your character the most swayed by ethos, pathos, or logos? A mix of pathos and logos is most effective on Deah. Logos probably most of all, but there are pathos buttons that hold away above all that... if you know which buttons to press.

If your character was granted a single use of Wish, what would they use it for? Currently? To bring back her pirate captain. She knows its selfish but...

What is your character’s favorite spell? If they don’t use spells: what is their favorite personal weapon/combat maneuver/skill/etc.? Her favorite spell is stab with rapier.

How does your character feel about keeping secrets from the rest of the party? She keeps secrets pretty regularly! Basically if the party needs to know, then the secret should be shared. But if it doesnt really affect the group or something important, and the person doesnt want to share, then go ahead and keep the secret.

What type of creature in the world is your character the most intrigued by? Dragons probably, at this point. Definitely an influence by me the player, haha, but it's buoyed by an early meeting with a particular dragon that sparked her interest.

When they were a child, what did your character want to be, or think they were going to be, when they grew up? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ she didnt have life plans as a kid. She just wanted her and her brother to live.

The player character to your left admits that they’re passionately in love with your character. How would your character respond? That's already happened LMAO. Deah didnt know how to react so her brain blur screened and she ran away from the situation for a bit.

If somebody (an NPC, someone from their backstory, etc.) your character trusts/loves asked your character to do something against the party’s best interest, who would they side with? If it only involved herself, Deah would probably go do it. But if it was a huge net loss for the group, she wouldn't, if that makes sense? It's hard to make sweeping statements like that.

Does your character value their own best interest more than the party’s? She values her own interest for sure, but she would prioritize the party's if one meant dunking on the other. She knows what it's like to sail with a tight knit crew; sometimes you sacrifice to make the group as a whole better/happier.

What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group? Oh gosh, uh.... I mean, if they decide to help her enemies (not likely to happen, there are a couple shared ones). If they don't let her do something she REALLY wants... I can't really think of anything specific.

How does your character imagine the way they will die? Tragically.

What is your character’s greatest achievement? Taming her pseudodragon ;w;

Is your character willing to risk the well-being of others in order to achieve their goal? Hmm... not to a certain degree. Eh, probably not. She only really wants to risk herself, not others. Risking others doesn't give them the choice.

What is your character’s opinion on killing others? She does it all the time!! But if they're defenseless or not fighting back, she won't.

What is your character’s favorite food? Beverage? She really loves fresh baked bread!! As for beverage, uh.... I guess she'd like water with like, something fruity mixed in???

How generous is your character? Especially to those they don’t know? To the poor and to kids? Very. Also, recently, she gave all of the money she got from a quest to a townsperson to help them rebuild their city a bit (secretly of course. Not even her team knows she did that, though maybe some of them suspect hahaha)

What is your character the most envious about, regarding anyone in the party? Once again... probably most envious of Maddie!! She comes up a lot doesn't she ;P

The player character to your left and the player character to your right are both telling your character two different versions of the truth. Who does your character believe? Maddie vs Haru? Shed probably lean towards Maddie :p

What is your character’s sexuality/relationship with sex? I've described Deah as Panromantic Asexual. She is rather sex averse and has difficulty pinpointing romantic feelings as well, being rather prickly at times.

What is your character’s biggest pet peeve? When people try to dig into something she doesn't want to share at the moment.

Describe how your character feels about the party’s current situation/objective/etc. The current objective/situation involves her backstory, so you'll see soon ;)

Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret? Maddie of course! She trusts Gael, but not with secrets. Similarly, she trusts Mercy to hold an oath to the best of her ability, but not if a secret comes up -- same with Rudi. Ro does what she wants LMAO and she isnt telling Haru anything personal atm.

If your character knew that they were going to die in a month, how would they spend the rest of their life? I dont want to think about that question and neither does Deah

What makes your character feel safe? Having her weapons. Having her pact/her pact scars.

If your character had the chance to rename the party/give the party a name, no questions asked, what would it be? Nah, she likes Fortune's Blades

What memory does your character want to forget the most? Cal leaving. It's probably her most painful memory.

If your character had to multiclass into a class they currently aren’t the next time they level up, what would it be and what reason would they have for doing so? She's already multi classed and her reasons for becoming a warlock are kind of muddied. She explained them initially but maaaaybe wasn't 100% truthful. If she had to pick a third, probably uh.... fighter?????

What television/book/video game/etc. character would your character be best friends with? (Or: what media character is your character the most influenced by/similar to?) I would HOPE she would be friends with Elizabeth Swan (: but idk lol

What unusual talents does your character possess? Sharp senses and magic tricks.

How does your character feel about receiving/giving orders? Are they more of a leader, or a follower? It's rather situational. She tries to be a leader type, but she also realizes she's not at the top of the leader chain (and, with her party, at times different people take the head, so it's almost more consult-y like).

What does your character’s name represent to them? (Or: why as a player did you choose your character’s name?) The player of Cal, her brother, chose his name first from a generator. I like to construct my names sometimes from different name elements, so I made hers to match the sound of her twin's (that is, make it sound like it came from the same language). Her name is constructed of "Feld-" (field) and "-Deah" (dye) so her first name translates roughly to "field of dye." Her original last name is Shearwater, which is a real life sea bird but also follows the traditional elven naming convention (their dad was an elf). She never felt much of an attachment to her last name. She recently changed her last name to Blackheart, which was the moniker of her captain.

Is your character more of an introvert, or an extrovert? Introvert for sure

How far is your character willing to go to pursue the “greater good”? Do they believe in a greater good at all? She would go as far as she needs to, but would never force others to make that same decision.

What does your character want to be remembered by? At one point she thought she would eventually be a famous pirate captain. But mostly I think she just wants to be remembered by those who love her and by those she helped...

What would be your character’s major in college? Fuck, uh... I had discussed this before.... I think I made her pre-law??? Math major???

Does your character consider themselves a hero, villain, or something else? Something else. She doesn't really care about that, she's just Being.

What major arcana tarot card best represents your character? I believe last it was discussed I had picked the Chariot for her.

Where does your character see themselves in 20 years? If not dead from adventuring, then settled somewhere nice, hopefully...

What is your character’s relationship with magic? Are they scared of it, wish to know more about it, indifferent to it? For a long time she was the Sokka of the group, the only non-magic user. Then she got her pact. She's still kind of awkward about it, and at times really doesn't like magic, but she sees it as a tool. A means to an end.

Who is your character’s biggest rival? Rival?????? I guess Morrigan tbh??? Cuz a rival isn't an enemy, and she had a thing going with Morrigan (her player is on hiatus tho). In some ways she rivals Mercy too. A dance of similarities and differences.

What is your character’s guiltiest pleasure? Fine, beautiful dresses. She doesn't own any, because it's a waste of money, but.... she wants them. Secretly.

What does your character hope for the afterlife? Peace and rest.

Who in the party does your character trust the least? Haru, currently, simply by virtue of being new.

What is your character’s biggest flaw? BIGGEST flaw???? Uhhhmmm..... Her secrecy probably. Her tendency to run away from really big, painful problems, to bottle up her emotions around that until everything just gets worse.

How did your character learn the languages that they speak? Common, prucrician and Elvish she learned just growing up. Deep, she just... mysteriously knows. Doesn't know why she can speak it. Draconic she learned at first from Rudi, and then from a dragonborn NPC to finish her lessons during a timeskip.

What is your character’s favorite school of magic/type of weaponry? Rapier

What is most important to your character: health, wealth, or happiness? Why must she choose? Wealth, because that brings health and happiness in her eyes. (Because money buys food and when you have food.....)

What advice would your character give to a younger version of themselves? I know it's hard, but open up more. You don't have to keep it to yourself to protect others. Your brother can be your friend as well... you don't have to just keep holding yourself back for your friends and family.

Are there any social or political issues your character feels strongly about? She doesn't feel super strongly about politics, having been a pirate. She feels strongly about protecting children and poor though, as I've mentioned.

What, currently, is your character the most curious about? The afterlife. Erastil, but specifically just that one god. Her ship captain.

#dnd #dicefunctional #deah shearwater

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kenkamishiro · 5 years ago

Text

Ishida’s Q&A comments from YJ compilation, Part 8

Once again Ishida continuing to give answers that don’t actually answer the questions at all lol.

For anyone who doesn’t know about the relevant Questions to Ishida contest, please read here. You can start from Part 1 here.

The recent set of zakki:re and interview translations take a lot of time and effort, so if you enjoyed it please reblog or leave a like. Thank you!

2016

No. 1

Still 1 month left of this year! What’s something you still have left to do for 2015?

The storyboard.

Good luck.

No. 2

Sensei, please share with us a piece of news that was important to you in 2015!

I forget.

I wasn’t feeling so great in 2015.

No. 3

December 17 is Airplane Day! Now then, please share with us a memory you have that is related to airplanes!

I like the window seats.

Probably that time on the plane to head to the New Years party, when the staff was forced to stop because of me...

[T/N: Referring to his New Year’s party escapades in the volume 6 omake.]

No. 4-5

December 24 is Christmas Eve! Now then, please share with us a present that you want now as an adult!

I don’t need one since I’m an adult.

Even adults want presents too, you know!

No. 6-7

When you think of New Year’s Day...you think of New Year’s money!! Please share with us one way you spent the money you received from New Year’s when you were a child!

On games.

I was jealous of other people’s families since I didn’t have a lot of relatives.

No. 8

Sensei, please tell us your philosophy when it comes to food!

I think of meals as work.

I consider meals as work when I’m eating alone. When I go with people I eat whatever I like.

No. 9

January 28 is the birthday of the late Komatsu Sakyou! Now then, please share with us one of your favourite sci-fi works!

Gantz.

It’s not Star Wars...

No. 10

Please share with us one aspect or behaviour of the opposite sex that you unconsciously care about!

Their face.

How they use social media.

No. 11

Please share with us a Twitter account that you’re most interested in now!

Inagawa Junji-san’s for his ghost story tweets.

I find that accounts of artists are helpful for studying.

No. 12

Please share with us one of your favourite genres/videos that you end up watching on video streaming sites.

I got Netflix so I could watch Terrace House.

I still use it.

No. 13

If you were to ever film a Taiga drama who would you pick as the main character?

Siebold.

But why?

[T/N: A Taiga drama is a type of long-running TV drama period piece, often produced by NHK.]

No. 14

Graduation season is in full bloom! Now then, please share with us one of your favourite graduation songs!

“Lion” by Amano Tsuki.

Uh-huh, yup.

[T/N: "Lion” was one of the songs included in Ishida’s Spotify playlist.]

No. 15

Sensei, if you could decide the design of the 10,000 yen bill, who would it be a portrait of?

A cat.

A cat...?

No. 16

Today is Weekly Manga Day! Please tell us your number one favourite manga that is released weekly!!

I’m curious about what Ooima Yoshitoki-san will draw for her next manga.

Just how much do you care?

No. 17

Sensei, please share with us one thing that makes you go, “Man, I wanna go see this,” now?

Commentary on demonstration boards for shogi.

I went to one! Man, was it interesting.

No. 18

The final day of March is...Orchestra Day! Now then Sensei, please share with us a memory you have that’s related to musical instruments!

I bought a piano recently, and I’ve been playing it almost every day.

And I still play it.

No. 19

Entrance ceremony season has arrived! Now then, please tell us about a schoolteacher who’s left the biggest impression on you!

Some student hacked the school server and the teacher intercepted the culprit.

That’s the kind of school I attended.

No. 20

New dramas are starting one after another! Now then, please share with us a series that’s left the biggest impression on you among all the dramas that you’ve seen recently!

Right now I’m currently watching Mad Men.

I watched all of Mad Men. I can’t believe what happened at the end of “Meditations”...

[T/N: Not entirely sure what Ishida meant by that last line, but I think “Meditations” refers to the last episode of the second season, titled “Meditations in an Emergency”.]

No. 21

Sensei, please share with us one game that’s popular in your circle!

The staff and I often play Mafia a lot together.

Recently we’ve been playing table RPGs.

No. 22-23

Today is the day in which the elephant was first introduced to Japan! Now then, please share with us a person/thing/culture from overseas that you would like to come to Japan!

David Downton-san.

I don’t think that.

No. 24

It’s that time of year where it’s getting warmer even at night! Now then, please share with us something about hanging out at night that you still remember!

That time I went drinking at a bar in the outskirts of Tokyo with Takahashi Kunimitsu-kun.

I don’t want to go there again.

[T/N: Referring to that time in April 2016 where Ishida and Takahashi were at a bar and a middle-aged woman started hitting on Takahashi for 3 hours lol.]

No. 25

May 19 is Boxing Day! Now then Sensei, please share with us what you thought was the best match ever!

I like the match with David Haye.

Clearly it’s Darth Maul vs. Obi-Wan.

No. 26

Please share with us a story about a debacle that you or someone else caused at a drinking party!

The first time I met Nakayama Atsushi-sensei, I made so much of a fool of myself.

I was so piss-drunk that I fell asleep in the bathroom I think.

No. 27

When you think of June you think of June Bride! Now then Sensei, please share with us a story that you remember that has to do with weddings!

I drew the welcome board for my friend’s wedding.

That time I left early since I didn’t want to be late for my senpai’s wedding, but the flight ended up being delayed by over an hour...

No. 28

Sensei, please share with us one of your favourite literary works for children!

Ringing Bell by Yanase Takashi.

Stormy Night.

[T/N: Ringing Bell (Chirin no Suzu) was referenced in :re by Kaneki during Arima’s death scene. You can read about it here. Stormy Night also seems to have influenced :re.]

No. 29

June 16 is Wagashi Day! Now then Sensei, please share with us a confectionary that you like!

It’s not available in Fukuoka, but sweet mochi cake.

I want some now.

[T/N: Wagashi is traditional Japanese confectionaries.]

No. 30

June 23 is Olympics Day! Now then Sensei, please share with us a competition from the Olympics that you still remember to this day!

Uchimura Kouhei’s horizontal bar performance at the London Olympics.

I don’t really watch TV much, so questions like these are tough for me to answer.

No. 31

Please share with us your slogan for the latter half of 2016!

I won’t be late. I wasn’t able to keep that promise for the first half of the year.

Good luck with that.

No. 32

Sensei, please secretly tell us about one shop that you think is the King of Restaurants!

The Chinese restaurant by my previous workplace.

The stir-fried oyster with lettuce was perfection.

No. 33

Summer has arrived! Now then Sensei, what do you think of as “summer food”?

The spicy Mexican crispy noodle salad from Family Mart.

Ah that, that was so good. But I don’t see them sold anywhere now...

No. 34

If you could see exactly one historical event or incident live in person, what would you want to see?

I want to see Tezuka Osamu-sensei’s workplace.

The Perry Expedition.

[T/N: Tezuka is the “father of manga”, having drawn iconic manga like Astro Boy, Black Jack, and the currently airing anime Dororo.]

No. 35

When you think of summer, you think of the ocean! If you could raise just one sea creature as a pet what would you choose?

An octopus.

So I can eat it.

No. 36

Sensei, please share with us the most nerve-wracking moment you’ve ever experienced in your life!

That time when I had to address a speech to over a hundred people for the launch of the anime.

Finishing the manuscript before the deadline of the final chapter.

No. 37-38

Sensei, please share with us a word or phrase that’s been stuck in your head recently!

“Pandas exploding in the wild.”

It’s from group_inou.

No. 39

Sensei, please share with us a small luxury that you use in your everyday life!

On days I stay up all night I buy carbonated drinks.

Feels kinda pathetic huh.

No. 40

The disbanding of idol groups nationwide is hot news, but please tell us about an experience that you’re still reluctant to part ways with.

A little while ago, I bought a copy of Jump every week for several months.

It was so I could read Hunter x Hunter.

[T/N: Question is most likely talking about the disbanding of the top male idol group SMAP which was announced around this time of the year.]

No. 41

Sensei, what item makes you think, “whoever invented this is a genius”?

The PC.

Amazon.

No. 42

What was the most interesting reception you’ve received up until now that has made you the happiest?

I got a shikishi from the staff to commemorate 100 chapters of being serialized. Though no one from that time is left anymore...

I also got a shikishi from the current staff. I was happy.

No. 43

Sensei, please share with us a moment that’s made you feel the generation gap the most!

Encountering people who were born in the 2000′s.

Sha-Mail.

No. 44

It’s Reader Autumn! Please tell us what you consider as your bible!

Recently it’s “Speak Aloud and Rhyme”.

Now it’s “Drawing the Morphological Human Body with Boxes and Cylinders”.

No. 45

Sensei, please tell us about a manga/anime/novel that you’d like to see as a movie!

I’m looking forward to “Satoshi: A Move for Tomorrow” being released this fall.

I missed the chance to watch it.

No. 46

Sensei, what were you most enthusiastic about playing with when you were in school?

Smash Bros.

Games that are updated periodically.

No. 47

Sensei, please tell us about something that you’ve used for many years and have been unable to throw away!!

I throw things away when I need to.

My Cintiq 22HD (DTK-2000/K1) LCD tablet. The size and responsiveness of it matches it better than the latest model.

No. 48

Sensei, when was the moment you felt you became independent?

If I’m living.

What? Probably when I got my pay cheque.

No. 49

November 2 is Family Culture Day! Sensei, please tell us about a rule that’s only found in your household!

Playing no more than 1 hour of games a day.

That’s proper.

No. 50

Sensei, please share with us any furniture/interior work that you want to replace right now!

The bookshelf.

Same.

No. 51

Sensei, please share with us the first CD you’ve ever bought!

Morishita Reika’s “Your Wind is Blowing” (most likely).

Most likely, yeah.

No. 52

This year has had various movies become blockbuster hits, but in your opinion what work do you consider as a hit?

It’s actually a drama, but Game of Thrones.

I recommend it.

previous || next

#Tokyo Ghoul #zakki:re #Ishida Sui #Ishida Q&A #Translations #my translations #these series of questions were especially enjoyable #also lol the last one #the timing for it couldn't be worse huh

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stusbunker · 5 years ago

Text

Known: Off Key

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Demon!Reader, MoC!Dean x Female OC, Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Crowley

Series Masterlist

*^*^*^*^*^*

November 26, 2014

Crowley’s Earth Operations, Throne Room

There were things he had seen that would make a sane man rip his eyes out. But staring at the bruised and chained form of his mother was not something he wished to unsee. Crowley was the King of Hell, Master of the Crossroads and owner of the First Blade. He was the most powerful demon in existence. This shouldn’t be a problem, however powerful she was, she remained his prisoner. The undying resentment he felt towards her was only paralleled by a little boy’s need for his mother to love him.

His time with Dean must have kept him soft. He had been off the blood for months; this was just a momentary relapse. Crowley couldn’t be having, sentiments, about his whore witch mother. Could he?

November 30, 2014

The Bunker

The weeks since both CC and Dean had been purged of their demonic sides had fostered an indelicate dance. She remained in the Bunker despite the devastation she felt in the aftermath. Guilt, fear and grief bristled her already brusque demeanor. Once Castiel left with Hannah, the outward animosity dropped to a low simmer. She hadn’t divulged her spirit walk or that the knowledge of her origins had left her vulnerable to both Heaven and Hell outside of their heavily warded safehouse. It wasn’t their burden to bear. All the while, CC hadn’t felt the same, with either Winchester, as her stay lengthened; safety was enough for her to attempt to remain on their good sides.

Dean was unapologetic about the whole thing; CC shouldn’t have been possessed and somehow, their efforts had remedied the situation. He found himself speeding back to Kansas after the old case of Bobby’s, not realizing he was rushing home because he had somebody there waiting. He felt oddly rejuvenated after ending the shifter and he couldn’t wait to give CC all the twisted details of that mess of a family. Just the thought of her grinning had his foot leaning heavier.

That reunion was over and settled, but Dean had yet to earn much enthusiasm beyond a half-hearted greeting from CC. Strategically, Sam left them alone, unless they were heading out for a case. He knew they had to work through things, and nothing suggested they were done with each other; he gave them a respectable distance. They were just too damn stubborn for their own good.

“You know we really could have used you on this one,” Dean strongly suggested while he pealed his coat off, frustration reigniting on his bruised face.

“I don’t know why I need to say this again, but I am not hunting with you. It’s too dangerous.”

“Yeah, well, we lost a damn powerful witch and a lot of people died in the process.”

CC didn’t rise to the challenge, leaving the brothers quietly. She came back to the Library with the first aid kit, looking over Dean’s face as Sam settled down with his laptop across the table. “You guys made it out, that’s what matters.”

“Real nice, Chloe,” Sam muttered.

Dean pushed her hand away from his face to glare up at her. “What other people don’t matter? Are you just giving up on ever doing your job? On who you are, on what your family taught you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” CC warned. “Can I finish?”

Dean didn’t answer, but sat still as she patched him up, leaving him with a bag of peas and a cold beer to judge in her absence.

Later that night, Dean was drawn down the hallway by the soft sound of singing. He knew Sam sometimes left music on, but it was too gentle and haunting to be a recording. The closer he got Dean realized it was more of a chant, the words lifting slightly before falling back to the beginning of the recitation. It was Chloe in a melancholy drone to the night air; words he would never grasp, but a feeling that struck him like a forgotten chord in the harmony.

CC sang out to those that went before her, those that couldn’t be saved. The regret and fear raced through her until tears burned in her eyes. She prayed for bravery and for guidance, to be wholly herself again, and to be the granddaughter and hunter she once was. As the air cleared and her voice ached from her efforts her unseen audience became clear. She wasn’t sure how she could sense him now, but there was no doubt that Dean was resting against her bedroom door.

“You can come in now, Dean. If you want.” She packed away her incense and bowl set, as Dean entered like a kid late to finals.

“Everything alright?” She gave him a look to not ask stupid questions. He watched as she dropped her eyes, darting to nowhere in particular for as long as she could; everywhere but back at him. “Hey, about how I snapped on you about Rowena? It’s just, I know you. You’re happiest when you’re giving it your all. This, hiding gig, it doesn’t suit you.”

Dean dropped onto her bed, casually throwing his hands behind his head as if he were waiting for her psychoanalysis and not a rebuttal. She leaned against the desk, one leg bent as she peered over at him, the Mark of Cain peeking out from his rolled-up sleeve. “Who ever said we’re allowed what makes us happy? That’s not a hunter’s lot. I don’t have to tell you, of all people, that one.”

Dean rolled to his side, patting the bed at her. She huffed and rolled her eyes but dropped onto the blanket and crawled into him all the same, burrowing face first into his broad chest.

“You think we could ever be happy?”

“In general, or you mean, like as an ‘us’?” Dean spoke into her hair, the thick strands soft against his lips.

“At all.”

“I don’t know. But I hate to see you stop fighting.”

“Yeah, sometimes it feels like the fight was taken from me. Like I was robbed. I don’t know how to be me and this other thing all together.”

“For what it’s worth? I’m sorry for what happened when she, when I–.”

“This isn’t about her, Dean. This is about figuring out whatever I am now.”

“You can still be you, Cease, trust me. You’ve always been remarkable, now you know where some of that comes from.”

CC thudded his chest with her head, laughing. “Man, you are laying it on thick tonight. Itching that bad, huh?” She leaned back to see his appraising smirk and eyebrow waggle. The light shifted, and he was that very breakable man again. Chloe knew she could hurt him in an instant and it terrified her. If it wasn’t for the Mark on his arm, he might have already been a casualty of her unhindered wrath. She didn’t want to let go, but holding on felt like chaining him to her, where all the consequences were unknown.

“Hey, if it’s just this tonight and this is all you need. I’ll be good.”

“But?”

“But I wouldn’t say no to less clothing.”

The next morning

Dean woke up with a sour taste in his mouth, CC’s legs thrown over his. Slowly he eased out from behind her with a quick peck on the tip of her shoulder. If she was awake, she didn’t let on; allowing him to leave guilt-free. He dragged his pants and boxers back on, not bothering with his belt. He fisted his shirts in one hand and his boots in the other, closing her door with a gentle click. He showered and found Sam, and his judging face cocked in Dean’s general direction, at the breakfast table.

“Did you at least convince her to ride along on the next case?”

“Pffft, no. Have you met her? I couldn’t convince her to do anything, ever.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“Okay, well maybe, I nudged her a certain direction.” Dean gave a considering pout before turning back to pour himself some coffee.

Sam pursed his lips. “If that’s what you’re calling it; I don’t wanna know.”

“Oh, you wanna, but I aint telling.”

“You done? Cuz I might have a line on something.”

Dean inhaled. “Whatcha got?”

Sam launched into the grizzly details of mutilated bodies while Dean tried to listen. Once his post-coital strut wore off, he felt a little sheepish about the whole thing. It was the first night they had spent together since he’d been cured. Nothing about it left him feeling any better about CC or whatever they had between them.

Hell

You had been coughing for what felt like a year. The chemicals in the air choked your lungs and burned your eyes; everywhere you looked was a sooty amber haze. Once you thought you were going to retch from its potency; it thickened filling your nose and throat until all you could do was swallow the poison down. Time quickly no longer held any meaning for something like you. You who had escaped Hell and lived among hunters, abandoned your post and killed your own kind. Despite having served the King while Earth-side; the rules remained the same. Deserters and mutineers earned their punishments.

You had to pay for what you’d done. The longer you clung to your memories of freedom, the deeper the ache of separation seeped.

December 2, 2014

The Bunker

Chloe had been sidestepping this long enough. Watching Dean going crossed eyed over research was not something that could keep her wandering thoughts at bay. She sauntered around the library table and let her hands roam his tense shoulders. He didn’t respond more than a slight grunt. He felt foreign in her hands, breadth and depth at odds with what her body knew to be true of his abilities. Slowly she saw him fall inch by inch into the sedation of her ministration. With the heat of her mouth on his ear, CC beckoned Dean into his room, hands pulling, while lips teased along his jaw. He hadn’t expected such a reception. When he finally had caught up, she threw him for another loop.

“Listen, there are some things we need to get straight, before we continue what we’re doing here.”

Dean leaned back, holding CC’s thick waist in his strong hands as he squinted at her sudden change of mood. “Okay, if this is gonna be a side of the bed thing, I’m flexible as along as I can get to my gun.” Dean nodded as CC bit both of her lips in mild amusement. “Not that kind of straightening, got it.”

As her warm hands rested on his chest she fiddled with the buttons on his thermal, trying to decide where to start. “Okay, well, how about we decide when it started and what we want from there?”

“Uh, okay, but I am not much for the semantics and anniversaries. We’ve had some fun and kicked some ass. Don’t really need more than that. Do you?”

“What’s important to me is you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” While still pressing Dean against the door, CC reached up and tied her hair in a black silky ball at the top of her head. “So, when did you first realize I was possessed?”

Dean took her hands in his, dropping them to her side and rocking her upright, so he could stand up. Hunters’ instincts keeping him on guard, even if his knuckles were locked in hers. “I knew for certain when I cleaned your room and it was caked in sulfur, after the dead vessels at Magnus’s. Right after I got the First Blade.”

CC scooted back, breaking contact to pace in a subtle arc and fiddle with her knife handle. “Okay, I don’t remember that, at all. I’m pretty sure that I was already out of control by then.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. “I mean, there was that case that you lost time. North Carolina?”

“Oh, yeah, thought I lost my truck. You were a lifesaver. Okay, that’s longer.” Dean had squared his shoulders, he watched her now with a keyed-up disbelief, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for CC to unleash it all.

“How far back was it really?” Dean closed his eyes, unable to face her answer, knowing that hearing it would be painful enough.

“I’m not sure, she didn’t make a fuss or pack me away at first. I think, Santa Fe? Maybe earlier,” CC admitted, cupping the back of her neck and staring at her feet. Some hunter she was, letting a fucking demon joyride through her life for months. Though they had grown together, in hindsight it was still embarrassing, especially the parts she couldn’t tell him. Of when she watched them together and envied their spark, or the parts she would never tell anyone, when the demon inside Dean scared even the one that was inside of her.

“How much of this–” Dean broke off, with a disgruntled sigh. “How much of it was her?”

CC reached up to touch him now, his voice had cracked, and his jaw struggled against the bitterness. How could someone seem so far away while she could feel his body heat against her skin? He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t lean into the softness of her palm, like before. She watched him try and keep himself together and the space inside her ribs doubled, the walls falling away to more emptiness. “Enough.”

He turned away to clear his tears then, pinching his lips to try and center himself. The Mark’s rage began to build in his temples, failing against all the unwanted emotion and the truth he had to face. CC’s hand fell to her chest, she cradled it over her tender heart, trying, in vain, to stop the damage from spreading. Dean didn’t know how he felt, there was guilt, his old poor-weather friend, but this burden of loss was unexpected, and a new regret too damning to acknowledge. He wanted to pull Chloe to him, to let her dumb the ache.

The two of them together, felt wrong now, incomplete and lopsided. Dean wasn’t sure if she, the demon that had known him, was their missing piece or if they each had simply lost parts of themselves along the way.

A gentle knock on the door broke the moment, CC’s face tightening and Dean’s falling into a familiar lazy grin.

“Guys? It’s Jody.” Sam held his phone to his chest, tone even, but he missed nothing as they buried their feelings and put their game faces back on.

*^*

Next Chapter: Two Halves, Three Hearts

#known series #moc!dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #demon!reader #dean x female vessel oc #dean x cc

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ramblinganthropologist · 5 years ago

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Writober 2019 - 5 (Fantasy)

Summary: lathbora viran - the longing for something you’ll never truly know. Cahel didn’t understand it before, but now in the dark of the night he feels it all too strongly. They talk about not knowing you need something until it’s gone, but what happens when you never had it in the first place?

---

“Quiet... I can see him.”

Nobody even breathed as they sat, waiting. A brook nearby bubbled and wind whipped softly through the trees as a large buck stopped to drink. It raised its massive head, large horns glinting in the light filtering through the trees. It was the first time it had stopped at all in nearly two days.

Slowly, an arrow slipped out of a quiver and notched into a waiting bow. Sinew stretched silently as its owner drew back, waiting. When the beast raised its head once more, the arrow release with a quiet hissing noise. It hit its mark, and the deer dropped like a stone, dead before it hit the ground. It was a clean kill.

“Perfect.”

Tamlen rose from his spot, bow still in his quiver. “You did it again, Cahel.”

Cahel was beaming as he stuck his head out of his hiding spot, the light catching the blue lines inked across his face for Mythal. “Wasn't about to let that one go, it'll feed us for ages! Besides, Ilen could use those horns for something.”

He put his bow back into his quiver and headed towards his prey. “Come on, help me get this thing ready so we can take it back to the clan.”

“And here I thought you told me whoever shoots it dresses it.” Tamlen was still smiling as he followed behind. “You're lucky you're cute, vhenan.”

And as he strode ahead to make it to the buck first, he lightly slapped Cahel's armored behind. That earned him a squeak and a blush as the successful hunter sped after his lover's laughter. This was why nobody let them on hunts together sometimes.

Luckily, nobody had seen them go off this time.

It didn't take them too long to get the deer ready for transport – after all, they were both skilled hunters who knew what they were doing. They soon had it all packed up and ready to go, with the antlers sticking out of Cahel's pack. What little they had left behind was their offering to both Andruil and the beasts of the forest. After all, they had to content with both: it was only right that they gave them a cut of their spoils.

“You couldn't have shot a smaller deer, could you?” Tamlen was already rubbing at a sore shoulder as they walked through the forest, following their mental path home. “Creators, this thing is heavy.”

Cahel chuckled at the display, forging ahead just a few more feet. “You know what they say about sons of Mythal, we don't go easy on anything.”

“I should've remembered that from bed last night, silly me.” He reached out to nudge his partner forward. “You're going to get it tonight.”

That's if he could keep up with that sore shoulder of his; Cahel knew plenty of ways to get the upper hand anyway, both in bed and in the ring. By the end of it, Tamlen would be begging for mercy either way. He was gorgeous when he begged, so that only made things even more fun. Now he had something else to look forward to, and he whistled an old tune under his breath as he walked.

After about an hour, they found their clan's statue of Fen'Harel, the one that they had once drawn on as children. Beyond that, just within eyesight, lay the aravels of clan Sabrae. Most of their fellow hunters were out, but other elves still milled about the camp doing their work. This made them pick up the pace as they closed the final stretch.

It was here they broke off, Tamlen to go deliver the meat, and Cahel to hand off some specific articles he had collected. He made a beeline for the aravel all the way in the back, the one that always set his teeth to twitching. Their Keeper's aravel was soaked in magic, and even though he wasn't a mage he could feel it. Damn thing practically dripped with it.

“You better not be doing anything stupid in there, ada, or Cherche will kill you.”

A head stuck its way out from the back, also with red hair and blue tattoos. Keeper Cahel Mahariel was starting to show signs of aging just from the extra white in his hair and how his steps were beginning to slow. Though at the moment, there was none of that. Magic always breathed life back into him.

“It's just some basic enchantments, da'len, nothing to get your sister in here on me.” He chuckled regardless. “Ooh, did you bring me a present from your hunt?”

Cahel the elder still had the voice of a child some days. His son shook his head as he dug into his pack. The deer liver and berries his father had requested a few days earlier were deposited on the small bench outside the aravel. What the man planned to do with them, he had no idea. It wasn't like he was a mage after all.

“Came off a huge buck, so I hope that does something extra.”

The older Cahel beamed as he came out from inside his aravel to collect them. On solid feet, the younger of the pair had finally outgrown his father. With similar tattoos and faces, they could have almost been twins. Of course, the clan's keeper had white in his hair, and his son wasn't all that fond of undercuts. Without those, and the fact one of them was able to keep a damn shirt on, some people might have had trouble telling them apart.

Ah, family was weird like that.

“I knew you could do it, da'len.” Elder Cahel reached out to ruffle his son's hair, getting a squawk from the young man in the process. “Oh, come on. You're never too old to be messed with by your father. Lighten up a little, you'll go gray before your time?”

The younger Cahel fixed his hair, but he smirked. “Oh, like you?”

“That came from your sister.” The keeper's cheeks still turned red as he bent to collect his packages. That was a point for his son. “Maybe you should go see her. She's been giving the young hunters a tough time again. They could probably use a friendly face.”

Knowing Cherche, she was probably trying to get them to become immune to low levels of poison; perish the thought. Cahel nodded as he left his father's aravel, walking through the busy camp to find his older sister. All the while, he had a spring to his step. It was a great day, they had food, and he had his evening pretty much planned out. Who could want more than that?

“Cahel-”

He could practically hear her vo-

“Wake up, Cahel.”

His eyes snapped open, showing the dark cloth ceiling of a human tent stretched above his head. Cahel slowly came to consciousness as he sat up, hair falling into his face. His mind was a fog as he glanced around.

Yep, definitely in a tent.

“What?”

Cherche's head was in front of him – she was looking into the tent. “It's your turn on watch.”

“Oh...” He shook his head, frowning. “Guess I forgot. Sorry about that.”

Cahel gathered his things quietly and crawled out of the tent. Outside it was quiet, with the only sound coming from the crackling campfire. There were a few other tents, containing the rest of his party. Right then, they were somewhere south in Ferelden, close to the remains of what had been Ostagar before the Blight had settled in. Just thinking about it made his body ache as he took his spot by the fire, dog in tow.

Just another night as a Grey Warden on watch.

“Wonder how Marethari is handling the clan going north...” He shook his head, frowning. It had been months since he had spoken with the keeper. For all he knew, they could have all died. “No... they're probably ok.”

It hurt, not knowing. He was already dealing with Tamlen's... disappearance. It hurt too much to call it anything else. Any other mishaps and his heart just might break it two. Of course, he may never find out with the Blight. He could die tomorrow and never know wiser.

And here he thought the Blight was supposed to bring people together.

“You should've seen the dream I had, boy.” He reached down, petting Tamlen the mabari's large head. “It had everyone in it. And I had vallaslin for once.”

He didn't have that while awake – Marethari had never let him take the hunt before his departure. He ha begged her for months, but her answer was always no or to deflect. Now he resented that she had; it was hard, being away from the clan without it.

“I saw my dad too... or at least I think it was him. Not that I know him or anything.” His shoulders sagged as emotions slowly crested, then crashed over him. Sure, he dreamed of home sometimes... but never like this. “Shit...”

Cahel was glad for the solitude of the night as tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. That brief moment in his dreams had been some of the happiest he had had in months. Now, in the dark of the night, he felt its absence more strongly than ever. The tears continued to roll down his cheeks as he stared into the fire, willing the night to hide them. In the morning, he might be red eyed, but nobody would be the wiser.

Whatever that dream had been, it was too much for him then. Whatever god had planted it in his brain had some explaining to do the next time he found time to pray. But that was then, and for the moment he was lost to tears and the aching pain in his chest.

So... this was lathbora viran, huh? Maybe the ancients had been on to something.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #writober2019 #Cahel Mahariel

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just-another-busy-fangirl-writes · 6 years ago

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December 22, 2017 - Holiday Edition

I am reposting old fic rec lists. Unfortunately some of the blogs/stories have been removed, but I am still going to list them for historical reference.

Feel free to tag me in ANY fics you post, and see previous weeks’ fic recs HERE

Hopefully this list helps those of you (us) who want to get away from our families for at least an hour or two over the holidays. There’s quite a bit of fluff on this list, so hopefully these awesome fics put a smile on your faces! There were a million more holiday stories that I’ve read the past few weeks, but I tried my best to spread the love to as many authors as I could. Make sure you check out everyone who’s tagging Kari (@thing-you-do-with-that-thing) and Ida’s (@like-a-bag-of-potatoes) 12 Days of Christmas Challenge, cause a lot of writers are doing that!

Happiest of Holidays to all of you beautiful people!

SMUT

Santa Baby by @impala-dreamer Dean may not be the Christmassy type, but he sure will try for Y/N…

Let’s Stay Home Tonight by @impalaimagining You’ve done enough Christmassy crap by yourself, and all you want is your husband to come home. When his flight is delayed and you have a little more time to yourself, you decide to make his wait worth your while.

Sparkling by @kittenofdoomage Fighting a Krampus was not how you wanted to spend Christmas, but at least you’ve met your soulmate. Even if he is a little… tied up.

Home for the Holidays by @luci-in-trenchcoats After his flight home is cancelled, Jensen decides to spend Christmas with his co star and long time crush…

Santa Baby by @queen-of-deans-booty You’ve been waiting all year for this to happen. You got your favorite sexy Santa lingerie and you just know Dean is going to love it on you.

The Bell Still Rings by @sp-oops Set after 11x09 (and ignores the rest of the season). Just weeks after the Cage fiasco, Jody Mills gets TFW & co to Sioux Falls for some much-needed time off. Sam’s hurting, but man, is he happy to see you. So happy that you’re starting to think your longtime crush on him may not be as one-sided as you thought. Here’s hoping for some strategically-placed mistletoe.

We Love Anyway by @sp-oops Set after 12x08. So you busted Sam and Dean out of federal lockdown and then skipped town. But now that the holiday weekend is here, and you’re lonely for them. Lonely for Dean. When Donna calls to invite everybody to her Christmas Eve wedding, you head north in a heartbeat. But when you get there, immersed in all the lights and splendor, it’s soon obvious that you’re not the only one pining for someone you didn’t think you could have. Will you have the guts to make a move?

The Cozy Christmas In by @whispersandwhiskerburn You and Dean are snowed in.

FLUFF

First Christmas by @atc74 Rob and his new wife prepare for their first Christmas together.

Christmas Traditions by @crispychrissy It’s the Holiday Season and you’re stuck in the bunker with a broken leg. Dean and Sam plan some activities for you after learning about your family’s holiday traditions.

Anything for You by @d-s-winchester Your ex will be at the Christmas party your office is hosting. Instead of you going alone, Matt offers to pose as your boyfriend.

It’s Cold Outside by @docharleythegeekqueen Christmas music helps set the mood as Dean and Cas spend the evening with their girlfriend and son.

One Horse Open Sleigh by @docharleythegeekqueen A Christmas date you’re hoping is leading to a proposal goes in a completely different direction.

All You Want for Christmas by @evansrogerskitten Jack is excited about his first Christmas as you teach him the holiday traditions. The special day also brings a surprise for you as well.

What You Always Asked For by @imagineteamfreewill The reader is one of Santa’s elves that travels to a new town each year to make sure even the poorest of children can have a good Christmas. When the boys find a case that links her with a string of recent murders, however, she has to team up with them to help save the children she’s been tasked with watching over.

All I See by @impalaimagining Jared and reader have been together for a while and decide to spend this Christmas alone in a cabin in Colorado.

What’s Your Hurry by @impalaimagining You and Jensen host a Christmas party, and before too many guests arrive, Genevieve asked you about your future.

Little Drummer Boy by @jpadjackles Louden Swain decide to host a small Christmas live stream for their fans. Rob invites a special guest to sing a song with him, and everyone can see the chemistry between them.

Mistletoe Surprise by @just-another-winchester Dean plans a little surprise for you to show you how he really feels about you.

Cancelled Plans by @katymacsupernatural Driving through a huge storm, you get Dean to pull over at the next hotel where you are snowed in.

Crackling Embers by @katymacsupernatural Jared surprises the reader with a trip to a winter wonderland.

Cabin Fever by @luci-in-trenchcoats The reader and the boys take a break from hunting for the holidays to head up to an out of the way cabin to meet up with some friends and have an old fashioned Christmas together…

Meeting the Parents by @luci-in-trenchcoats You invite your boyfriend, Jensen, to spend Christmas with you where he meets your family for the first time…

A Very Supernatural Hanukkah by @saxxxology When Sam finds out you don’t celebrate Christmas, he makes it his goal to make your next Hanukkah the best one you’ll ever have.

The Christmas Con by @whispersandwhiskerburn Dean explains to you why Christmas isn’t for hunters.

The Gift Box by @whispersandwhiskerburn Dean has to stay back during a hunt and stare at his Christmas present from Y/N the whole time.

Mistletoe Trap by @whispersandwhiskerburn Why is there mistletoe everywhere?

Beware the Office Christmas Party by @winchesterprincessbride It’s that one event of the year that you truly dread: The yearly Sandover Christmas party. Last year was a disaster, and you are determined to avoid it at all costs. But your BFF Kate is forcing you to go, and the only saving grace is the chance you might run into your office crush.

The Elf on The Shelf Can Kiss My Ass by @winchesterprincessbride Your daughter convinces you to get an Elf on the Shelf.

You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out, Dean! by @winchesterprincessbride You introduce Sam and Dean to a Christmas movie that’s old to you but new to them.

ANGST

I’ll Be Home for Christmas by @impala-dreamer Problems on set and two thousand miles of snow and ice between them means Jensen may not make it home for Christmas this year…

Pre-Christmas Catastrophe by @jpadjackles Y/N is out finishing her Christmas shopping on one particularly snowy day. It’s smooth sailing until she’s coming home when her car slips on black ice. Luckily for her, she’s got an ambulance officer as a fiance who just so happens to be working that night.

It’s a Terrible Tree by @whispersandwhiskerburn Sam Wesson is getting a bit tired of his job, but Y/N is the best part of his day. Can he get their place ready for Christmas dinner with her mother?

SERIES

The Emporium of Christmas Enchantments by @almaasi (on AO3) Every night when the clock strikes twelve, all the toys in the toymaker’s workshop come to life. Dean is a little wooden soldier, so easily distracted by the pretty dolls. However, in the nights leading up to Christmas, he feels drawn to a very different kind of toy: Castiel, a kindhearted cowboy displayed on the other side of the store. Dean and Castiel spend all their time together, spreading joy and festive cheer throughout their miniature community. But once the Christmas rush comes around, will fate allow them to stay together? (Perhaps… with a little sprinkling of Christmas magic, even the wishes of simple toys can come true.)

Celebrate Me Home by @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit A Dean Winchester Holiday//Daddy//Bookstore!AU - After having a traumatic experience back home, the reader climbs into her car and begins driving with no place to go. She ends up in a small town in Vermont where she finds more than she bargained for.

12 Days of Dean and Donna: A Christmas Story by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Christmas has become just another day for Dean, not worth celebrating. Donna, on the other hand, loves Christmas. Can she instill him with the Holiday Spirit by Christmas Day?

Another 12 Days of Dean and Donna: Christmas at the Bunker by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Dean invites Donna to spend Christmas at the Bunker.

A Winmills Christmas by @ilostmyshoe-79 Follow Sam and Jody through the holiday season.

12 Years of Christmas by @sis-tafics Dean and you go back further than your first night together. Actually, Dean’s had his own little secret for years. Told from Dean’s POV

#laura's fic recommendations

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theolddarkmachine · 7 years ago

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12 Days of ODM: Day 6

Dedicated to: @bluuesparrow

Prompt: Gajevy It Happened One Night AU

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995151

“You seem to be lost,” Gajeel said casually, his tone as flippant as he could make it as he led her carefully towards his inevitable victory.

“Lost?”

“I mean, I never thought I’d ever see a McGarden at a bus station.” All of the color drained from her face as her eyes widened, staring at the journalist as her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Checkmate.

BLUE MY DEAR! I gotta thank you for such a great prompt, and also tell you that it was too good lol So, before you go any further, please note that that one time I was beating myself up over needing to split a prompt into another part, that was yours. It was either decide to release it in two parts to do it justice, or rush everything and make it bad. So I bit the bullet and decided to split it. So I’m so sorry if the ending of this isn’t satisfying. IT ISN’T MEANT TO BE. Once holidays are done and we get another update in on the multi-chaps, part two is coming. I hope that isn’t too much of a letdown, and I hope you enjoy part one! Merry Christmas!

*****************************

Gajeel’s lungs started to burn with the breath he’d been holding in an attempt to focus on anything else beside the inevitable loss of his job, and the dingy surrounding of the bus depot. He’d been sitting in the station for longer than he cared to admit, mind set on the measly $100 left in his bank account and the ultimatum from his editor to either “get out of this writing rut of his” or “find his ass another job.”

The first option, was easier said than done.

The second option, wasn’t an option at all.

Gajeel had worked too hard to get to his position as chief news writer at Fiore Times to just “find another job.”

So, he did what any sensible, nearly broke and nearly fired journalist would do and headed down to the depot to think. Some of his best stories had come from the downtrodden and lost drawn to the place of escape. Hidden deep beneath the cracked exteriors of the hopeless was often times a treasure trove just waiting for Gajeel to write about.

Except, apparently right now when he needed it, as the only other person there was the unamused, spotted teenager selling tickets.

The breath left his mouth in an angry huff as it finally escaped, the sound of it not even enough to make the ticket seller look up from his phone as he popped his gum. He had been there for the better part of an hour, only successful in making himself more annoyed the longer he sat there and heard the sharp pops of the teen’s bubbles.

“Could ya stop—“ he started to say, voice slightly angrier than necessary in the situation before it was cut off by the chime of the bell above the door. A petite woman stood in the doorway, her chest heaving and the slick sheen of sweat across her forehead shining under the fluorescent lights of the bus station.

She looked… tired.

He watched as her eyes lit up as she looked at the expanse of empty chairs before her, a small chirp of happiness escaping her as she dropped into the seat nearest to the door. Delicate hands fluttered over the strands of blue hair that had been whipped free of the headband holding the rest back from her face as she tried vainly to contain it again. The yellow of her blouse was bright in the otherwise drab room, its coloring playing up the azure highlights of her hair as if she was a slice of the sunlit sky.

From where he sat, he watched the way her breathing steadied as she collected herself. Just from the few moments she had been in the bus station, her grand entrance ignored only by the the ticket seller, Gajeel could tell she was not the kind of girl that made a habit of frequenting public transport. Hazel eyes settled on him from across the room as the woman finally registered that she wasn’t the only one there. Her delicate brow pulled upwards to her hairline as she appraised him.

The recognition hit him like a freight train as he held the gaze. He had seen her before. Would know the curious coloring of molten honey and periwinkle anywhere. In fact, one of the last stories he’d actually been able to write had been about the very hotel empire she would one day inherit.

Levy McGarden.

Heiress to the Magnolia Hotel dynasty that made her one of the wealthiest women in the country. Wealthy enough to be able to travel in other ways aside from a dingy bus. Interesting.

Now there may be a story, he thought to himself as he stood up from his seat and made his way towards her. Levy’s eyes narrowed as she watched him make his way over, walking with over exaggerated confidence before dropping himself into the seat just to the left of her. The air about her was expectant as she waited for him to say something as she steeled herself for whatever it was he might say. When he didn’t say anything, her gaze hardened to a glare. Time stretched between them as she waited, only making her grow more visibly irritated with each passing second. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the grin that threatened to crack his lips wide.

“Can I help you?” She asked finally, her voice bell like as she broke the silence first. For added effect, Gajeel looked around before he turned his attention fully towards her, pressing as hand to his chest.

“Me?” He asked innocently.

“You are the only you I could be speaking to,” Levy deadpanned as she crossed her arms over her own chest. Her mouth turned downward in a scowl as she shifted so she was pressed into the opposite side of her seat.

“Nope. I was actually wondering if I could help you out.” He watched as she processed his words, her stare filled with nothing but distrust as she waited for him to elaborate, while he waited for her to prompt him to answer. Another sigh danced between them.

“What do you mean, help me?” Levy’s eyebrow arched dangerously.

“You seem to be lost,” Gajeel said casually, his tone as flippant as he could make it as he led her carefully towards his inevitable victory.

“Lost?”

“Now, I imagine there’s a story here,” he continued, not allowing her the opportunity to find a retort. “So I was thinking we could strike a deal. I assume you don’t quite know how to work the bus system, so I’ll help you get to where you’re going, and you give a struggling journalist the story that led you here.”

Silence filled the lobby as they held each others gazes. His, lit by the confidence of having the advantage. Hers, colored by disbelieving disdain.

“And if I refuse?” She finally asked, voice hardened by

“Well something tells me if you’re here, you don’t want to be found. And I know just about everyone that would be looking for you.” It was a slight bluff. Gajeel didn’t actually have any contact for her father. The man was insistent on keep his number out of the hands of the media. But he did know a couple people who could eventually get the information to him. Her glare could cut diamonds as it bore into him, her scowl deepening as she considered her options.

“Fine.”

The single word was a curt thing, made entirely of cut glass that sought to tear his skin. It seemed that Levy had claws hidden behind the demure mask she was known for wearing.

“Excellent,” Gajeel said with a smile as sharp as her tone. “All we need now is this destination of yours and some tickets.”

Another voice answered him, the spotted teen’s voice bored as he finally tore his gaze from his phone to look at the duo in the lobby.

“You guys know that the last bus for the day left like, an hour ago right?”

It was with that disinterested tone that the small victory he had felt was swept from him. Gajeel rolled his eyes upwards, not bothering to even look at the short woman beside him as she groaned loudly at the news.

Of course it had.

***

He only wants you for the fortune you’ll inherit.

Her father’s words continued to echo in her mind, spurring her first from the hotel that they were at and then to the bus station just on the outskirts of the small town. Levy had known he wouldn’t approve of her and Erik’s engagement. He hadn’t even approved of their dating, constantly telling her that her then boyfriend was nothing but a fortune hunter that couldn’t be trusted. If she didn’t love Erik so much, she might have stayed with him anyway if only because her father disapproved so vehemently.

But she did love him, a fact that had been made all too apparent when he’d dropped down to one knee one sunny afternoon and finally asked her to marry him. It was the happiest moment of her life, even if it was overshadowed by the fact he had to head back to the city later that evening and she had to go with her father down south for business. Then her father decided to remind her just how against the union he was.

He only wants you for the fortune you’ll inherit.

I’ll prove you wrong, father. I’ll get to him one way or another, and I’ll do it without your money and you’ll see.

You are a foolish girl.

I’ll prove you wrong.

Levy’s plan consisted of three very simple steps: get to the bus station, ride a bus to the city, find her fiancé. It should have been a breeze, the hardest part being choosing between which bus to take, yet something went wrong.

That something wrong being a no good, rotten journalist with a nose for a story and the ability to ruin all of her plans.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Levy asked from where she was now perched atop a short wooden fence. Her eyes were hawklike as she watched the stranger— Gajeel, she reminded herself— standing on the side of the road with his arm held out and his thumb up. It had been almost two hours since they’d left the station after learning that there wouldn’t be another bus until the next afternoon, spurring the journalist to proclaim he knew how they could get going. From where she sat, it seemed he lied.

“Yes, Shrimp,” he huffed, not bothering to turn back and look at her as he continued to stare out at the road. She could only imagine that he was willing some sort of vehicle to materialize before them, if only to protect his ego that took another hit with each passing car. It might have been funny if it didn’t mean another lost opportunity for her to finally get started on her journey to Erik. In the distance, Levy could see the inky silhouette of a truck driving towards them. Silently she made a wager with herself over whether or not the vehicle would stop for the man. If the past 16 cars were any indication, it wouldn’t.

“It’s hitch hiking. You probably don’t know anything about it, being a princess and all."

Honestly, Gajeel was an insufferable man. Armed with an angry scowl and a worn leather jacket, he reminded her of an angry old man trapped in the body of a 25-year-old. She knew the journalist’s name. In fact, she’d loved reading his articles for how in-depth and articulate he was. The love for his craft had come through in the words, carrying the research he’d done and shaping it into stories that were award winning. Levy had made it a point to buy each paper that had a piece of his as the headline, up until that headline had been about an investigation into how her father had come into his fortune.

It was one thing for her to question her father’s ways, it was another entirely for someone else to do it.

“Heiress, actually,” she muttered as she watched the truck barrel by, the wind from its speed blowing Gajeel’s wild hair around his shoulders. The sound of his cursing was drowned out by the roar of the vehicle as it continued down the road and away from them.

“From the looks of it, you don’t quite know anything about it either.”

Her words earned her a loud grunt and a cold glare as Gajeel spun on his heel to face her.

“Then why don’t ya give it a try, Short Stack.” Levy shouldn’t have found herself smiling at the overtly annoyed edge in her companion’s voice. It was unfair to laugh at the man’s misfortune, especially since he was helping her get to Erik. Granted, he was only helping because he wanted something, but it wasn’t like it had been the first time someone had come into her life for the sake of gaining something.

The left corner of her mouth betrayed her as it pulled upwards.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Hopping down lightly, she made her way towards where he stood watching her with a weary expression.

“Go sit down,” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll get us a ride.”

The next 15 minutes were the longest of Levy’s life as she waited for the next car that would come by, and hopefully stop. She wasn’t a very prideful person, but there was something about the wild haired man and his untamed eyes that made her want nothing more than to beat him at this small game they were playing. Gajeel’s stare was almost as hot as the sun above as it bore into her back, neither of them saying anything as they both waited in thick silence. A bead of sweat dripped from her hairline and rolled lazily down her neck as she stared into the horizon, looking for any sign of life.

She was close to caving and breaking the quiet when she’d finally seen the distinct shadow of another truck coming over the hill. Perfect.

Slowly, Levy ran both her hands through her hair, gathering the blue strands into the clutch of her left so that it exposed the long line of her neck to the road. Once it was all gathered, she used her free hand to pull down the shoulder of her blouse so that the expanse of her skin was bared. Leaning her weight to one side so that her hip jutted out just so, she waited until she could hear the roar of the motor before she added the final touch.

With a barely there smile, she leant her head back just slightly as she began to fan at her skin.

Gajeel snorted behind her as she assumed her position, the sound filled with disbelief at her audacity for thinking that was all it would take. He clearly didn’t know the power of a little bit of skin. Almost as if to prove her point, the sound of the truck’s engine grew impossibly loud as it drew close before it began to fade into a gentle purr as it rolled up next to her.

“You lookin’ for a ride, doll?” A thickly accented voice asked through the open window. Her smile was genuine as she dropped her hair and stood straight, imagining the look that must have been etched across Gajeel’s face as he watched the exchange.

Levy- 1, Gajeel- 0, she thought to herself wickedly as she walked towards the truck.

“Me and my friend her were hoping we could hitch a ride with you to the next town,” Levy said, aware that her voice was smug and loud enough for the journalist to hear. “Or at least as close as you can get us.”

The man, who was pleasant enough, agreed to take them to the next town over, with the only stipulation being that the pair ride in the bed of the truck. Levy had not seen an issue with the arrangement, and Gajeel didn’t get a say. Within just a few minutes of the man stopping, they found themselves sat amongst leftover hay and gardening tools with the air whipping through their hair.

“No thank you?” She asked once their ride had picked up speed. Her gaze was trained on Gajeel as he kept his own locked onto the landscape around them. A very small part of her purred in contentment over the displeased pout that had turned his features downward.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look at her as he spoke. If she hadn’t been waiting to hear his response, she might have missed the words entirely as they were whipped away with the wind.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be helping me.” Levy kept her voice light and teasing as she attempted to goad a response out of him, if only so she could revel in her victory for just a few minutes more. Gajeel may have agreed to help her, and she may have agreed to give him a story, but she never agreed to make it easy. That can be his story, she thought to herself as she watched his onyx hair fly around his shoulders, Levy McGarden is a sore winner.

“Very funny, Shrimp.” His voice said it was anything but.

“I’m serious,” she continued as she tied her hair up to keep it out of her face. “Maybe I don’t need you after all. Can keep my story all to myself.”

The garnet of his eyes flashed as quick as a sword stroke from the scenery towards her in a barely perceptible glance. It was such a fast movement, she almost didn’t see the worry that softened them from the hard rubies they’d been that entire afternoon to silk sheets.

“It was just beginner’s luck,” he grumbled.

“Maybe.” It was her turn to shrug as she leant further back into the wall of the truck bed. “But I’m sure I still could have managed. Contrary to what you may have heard, I’m pretty self-sufficient.”

Waiting for a biting response that didn’t come, she pressed further in search of some answers of her own.

“What I want to know is why you’re so adamant about helping me.”

Gajeel’s sigh was heavy as he finally turned his full attention on her, its intensity sending a shiver dancing down her spine.

“Do I need a reason to want a good story?”

It was Levy’s turn to pause as she leveled him with her own gaze, ignoring the way her skin was erupting with a long line of goosebumps. She should drop the subject now and just play the hand she’d been dealt. There was nothing but danger in trying to untangle the twisted reasoning for the journalist’s help, especially with the way her heart had started to rattle her ribcage. Levy should be throwing up guards of her own.

Instead, she opted to lower her defenses. It’s for the sake of getting what I want, she told herself, ignoring a small voice in the back of her mind that suggested ulterior motives to her thoughts.

“I’ve read your work, Gajeel, I know you have a never-ending supply of good stories.” She allowed her voice to grow soft as she spoke as if she was trying to coax a wild animal closer. “Compared to some of them, mine is hardly worthy of all this work.”

The minutes felt like hours as she waited for a reply that she wasn’t even sure would come as he carefully scrutinized her. His gaze could level fields as he attempted to read the very thoughts in her head, making his decision on whether he could trust her with the truth of his intentions. She almost gave up waiting when she saw the line of his tensed shoulders slacken.

“Recently, writing has been,” he paused again, as he searched for the right word. “Difficult.” Gajeel’s studded brows pulled together as he spoke, almost as if the realization was coming to him as he revealed it to her.

“I haven’t had any inspiration in awhile and it seems I have found the end of my editor’s patience.”

Whatever Levy had thought he would say, that wasn’t it. She’d been ready to hear that he was a headline hungry journalist, ready to pick her life apart for recognition. Would have been ready to accept that he was just opportunistic. Even would have suspected he was just a sadist who happened to make her his next victim. Levy had absolutely not expected for him to have an actual, human reasoning.

Gajeel turned his attention back to the fields the whizzed by them as if he could no longer speak as he looked at her. She didn’t miss the way his hand fisted over his knee as he continued, trying to settle back into an air of indifference to cover up the piece of himself he’d just given her.

“If I don’t find my next story, I get to kiss my job goodbye.” His voice was filled with so much more than the careful nonchalance he tried to exude as he shrugged. She also didn’t miss the way his lips twitched downward, or how a distant sadness darkened the red of his eyes.

Levy didn’t feel bad for him. At least, that’s what she told herself as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her gaze flickered from the flat expanse of land that whizzed by in a blur of various shades of green to find his face. For the first time, she allowed herself to really see him. She noticed the way his jaw was set as if he was constantly waiting to hear bad news, and the severe crimson of his eyes that seemed to see everything as he looked out around them, only missing the way she stared at him now. There was no denying that he was handsome. Handsome in the same way a jungle cat was: nice to look at, but ready to tear any that came too close to shreds.

No, Levy couldn’t feel bad for someone that was so hard and abrasive, knowing all too well that that behavior was what most likely got him into the spot his was in now. Yet, the sadness in his eyes as he’d spoken of losing his job had been something she had known on an intimate level. She understood loss, and loneliness, her own demons crying out as they recognized their brethren in the ruby of his stare.

She swallowed down the small stutter of her heart as his gaze met hers before she could tear it away. The land around them stretched on forever in a darkening sea of shadows as the sun set, the truck driving them to the first stop on their journey.

Once she was certain he’d averted his own stare, Levy let her gaze flicker back towards his face and ignored the way her insides filled with fire.

It was going to be a long ride.

***

#gajevy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #HITCH HIKER AU YALL #i seriously beat myself up for this one for liek two weeks #THERE'S JUST SO MUCH I WANNA PUT INTO IT OKAY #IM SORRY #IM SO SORRY #12 days of odm

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xephinatheeleven · 7 years ago

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I Will Physically Fight You

Word Count: 2,060

Summary: Virgil Should have taken Patton seriously. (No actual fighting, only fluff)

Warnings: None! (Except maybe laughing)

Pairings: Platonic Only!

———-

“I will physically fight you!”

Virgil should have paid more attention to the words, but he hadn’t thought much of what Patton had said multiple times throughout the filming of the most recent video. Anxiety had been more concerned with how accepting the others had tried to be, and Morality had only been doing his best to convey that he shouldn’t be putting himself down so much. He wasn’t completely sure he believed them yet, but he was coming to a better understanding with the traits.

The other three had already synced out, and Virgil was the last to return to the mindscape. Much like any other time they were called to the real world, they would reappear in the commons. Most times they would discuss further the topic that they had just gone over with Thomas, so naturally that was what the darker facet was expecting when he got back.

When he synced into the mind palace he only caught a glimpse of Roman and Logan before a force knocked him to the ground, somewhere between an intentional tackle and an aggressive hug. When the force lifted, he looked up from where he lay on the floor to see Patton standing before him.

Confusion was the only thing Anxiety felt as propped himself up on his hands, “Wha- why?”

There was a glimmer in the eccentric trait’s eyes that only appeared when his paternal side took over, but it was also glazed with a slight sense of humor. “I told you that if you kept putting yourself down, I was going to physically fight you.”

Realization sank in, when the moral side made a promise, he kept it. Without thinking, Virgil scrabbled backwards on all fours, he still sat on the floor, but the creative and logical traits now stood between him and the determined fatherly one. Logan and Roman looked down at him in surprise; it was unlike him to act so rash in these types of situations. When it came to the two in question he had no trouble talking back, or getting into arguments with them, but he would never lay a finger on any of the other three.

Both of them turned their heads back to face Morality as he spoke, “Move aside.” There was laughter behind his tone, but he still wore the expression of a concerned parent, which was enough to make any of the traits wary.

“No! Don’t!” Virgil moved a little bit further away, letting his eyes flit between the ones in front of him, and the side that was threatening him.

Roman looked down at him helplessly, “Sorry Virg, but creativity verses paternal instinct…paternal instinct is going to win.” Slowly he stepped to his left, leaving only Logan between him and Patton. He knew Roman’s words were true, but he also knew that the egotistical trait would never hurt Morality or anyone else on purpose.

Logic glanced down at the side dressed in black and purple, a hint of amusement behind his eyes, “Logic verses paternal instinct, I hate to say it but the advantage falls heavily on Patton.” With that he stepped to his right, a glance passed between Roman and Logan before the moral side took another step forward.

In a moment of fear he looked at the three of them, “Paternal instinct verses fight or flight…” He trailed off for a moment. Glancing up at the trait who stood before him, he let his voice rise into the air again. “Paternal instinct wins…and of fight and flight…I chose flight!” As he said the words he jumped up and shouldered past Patton, rushing up the stairs. Virgil could hear the sound of laughter coming from Logan and Roman, but he was more focused on the footsteps that followed him to the second floor. He managed to get to his room before Morality caught up; he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Don’t you dare come back in here! I am not going to be responsible for you getting hurt because you came back into my room!”

There was knocking at the door for a while and voices rose indistinctly from beyond his door, but they all seemed to be light-hearted. Sitting on his bed, and leaning against the headboard, Virgil allowed himself to think over the events of the past few minutes and without warning, he began laughing. The whole thing was petty and hilarious, of all of them, Patton was the least likely to hurt anyone, and yet, they all respected him enough to be fearful in the moments such as the one they were in. For once, Anxiety let himself fall whim to the sense of joy that he felt, something he was unaccustomed to, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

A while later he poked his head out of the door, to make sure the coast was clear before heading down to the kitchen to grab some water. No one was within sight and he couldn’t hear any voices; he guessed after the filming everyone had retired to their rooms for the night. Slowly he made his way through the corridor and down the stairs. He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water before turning to head back to his room; he jumped back in surprise as he saw Patton standing in the entrance to the kitchen. How had he gotten there without Virgil noticing?

The moral side took a step forward and the darker trait dropped the glass, it fell to the floor, and miraculously didn’t shatter, but water spilled everywhere. Another step and the youngest trait sprang forward, jumping over the counter and darting around the dining table heading back towards the stairs. Somehow Morality managed to block his path, and Virgil was vaguely aware of the other two approaching the top of the steps, probably drawn by the sound of the cup hitting the ground.

With no escape, Anxiety did the only thing he could think of, he synced back into the real world. Thomas who was sitting on the couch with his laptop looked up at him in confusion as he appeared in his normal spot, but before he had a chance to say anything Patton showed up as well, the other two following closely behind. Morality lunged forward, and Virgil attempted to scrabble up the steps behind him, but both stopped when their host’s voice rose up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on?!” The eldest and youngest traits stayed locked in a state of hunter and prey, Roman was laughing too hard to respond, so that left only Logan.

The logical side managed to speak around the giggles that he was trying to suppress, “A-As far as I know, Patton threatened to physically fight Virgil if he kept putting himself down, and when he came back to the mindscape with the rest of us, Morality tackle-hugged him.”

He was unable to continue as he gave into the laughter as well, and Roman picked up where he left off, “Then Virgil tried to use us as a shield…but we all decided that paternal instinct over-powered our traits and Anxiety ran up to his room.” He took a deep breath, trying to hold back the hilarity that was trying to take over the regal trait. “We headed to bed ourselves, but the next thing Logan and I know, we hear the sound of something falling to the floor down stairs. We see Virgil jump over the counter to get around Patton-” Once again, he lost it and couldn’t explain .

Logan did his best to continue, “We were blocking the stairs, and to get away from Patton, Virgil synced into the real world. Morality followed with a laugh and we knew we couldn’t- couldn’t miss what was going to happen next, so we joined them.”

Thomas looked at them blankly, as if he were trying to take in what he had just heard, but Virgil’s focus was still trained on the fatherly trait, and it was a good thing it was, because Patton jumped for him. Anxiety hurdled the railing of the stairs and ran for the couch adjacent to the one on which their host was sitting, but he wasn’t fast enough. Morality caught his leg, and the two of them fell to the floor with a thud. For a moment there was a scared silence, Logan, Roman, and Thomas sat in fear that the two had been hurt. Patton looked over to see if Virgil was all right, and he did the same for Morality. Noticing that the oldest trait was okay, he couldn’t help himself; he broke into a fit of laughter, something the others were not used to seeing. Knowing he hadn’t hurt Anxiety, the moral side also fell into giggles, and their joy was contagious because it wasn’t long before the others started chuckling as well. It must have been a sight, Virgil and Patton splayed on the floor after a mock fight, both laughing too hard to speak, Morality still clinging to the leg that had brought his downfall.

Putting his hands over his face he could feel the tears that came to his eyes from the hilariousness of the situation. After a few moments of indulging in the emotion he so rarely felt, Morality stood, offering him a hand. Helping him up, Anxiety brushed the tears from his eyes, more than likely smearing his eye shadow in the process, but he didn’t care. Looking around he registered the looks that each of them had, Logan was failing miserably to keep his composure, Roman wasn’t even trying, and neither was Patton. Thomas while seeming a bit confused, laughed along with them, and Virgil himself, probably looked happier than any of the others had ever seen him.

They said great minds think alike, but apparently so did a mind and its facet, because in the same moment, Morality and Thomas drew the other three into a group hug. Anxiety normally would have pulled away, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the embrace. When they did let go of one another, mostly from Logic saying he couldn’t breathe, they looked around fondly, grins passing between them.

Their host’s voice made them all turn to him, he sounded almost teary with elation, “I’m glad to see all of you getting along…even if it did require one of you being tackled.” He flashed a smile at Virgil, “This has to be the happiest I’ve ever seen any of you!”

They all smiled and the youngest trait knew he had to say something, “Well, I am now certain that Patton is a Hufflepuff.”

His words were received with giggles, and Thomas was the one to respond, “And why is that?”

Looking over to the side in question he spoke, “Because, no one else would be determined enough to stalk me all night because they wanted to ‘fight’ me for putting myself down.” Patton squealed in appreciation at the words, “I guess we were right, paternal instinct does overpower all creativity, logic, and especially fight or flight.”

Once again they all fell whim to the laughter that consumed them, but it was more than that. Virgil felt something he had never had in the past, a familial sense of joy. At that same moment he couldn’t understand why he had doubted it, they may all have their differences, and they may not always see eye-to-eye, but they were a family. For the first time, the dark trait actually felt like he belonged, like he was a part of the team…like he had a family. Without a doubt he knew that now.

Not having the heart to send them back to the mind palace after a moment of such unity, Thomas allowed them to stay in the real world for the night, talking and of course laughing with one another. There were no insults or negativity towards anyone else, Logan didn’t even reprimand them about needing adequate rest, Roman didn’t complain about his beauty sleep, and knowing that he was going to be up for the remainder of the night, Thomas cancelled any plans he had for the next day. Together for the first time as not only family, but as friends they sat in conversation for hours, ignoring the clock, and leaving behind the problems of the past.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years ago

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Hello! I really love BYCNL and was wondering if you had any advice about how to approach writing fanfiction about real people. I’ve been writing fic for a while now but have always been too intimidated to try RPF. I just don’t want to come across as disrespectful or anything, but I’d still like to write them relatively true to character. (1/2)

Wow, this is a fascinating question!! Firstly, thank you so much! It can definitely be intimidating writing about real people (even fictional versions), so your kind words are so appreciated. 💜 Secondly, here are just a few tips I can think of:

1) Don’t be afraid to try! If you’ve ever read, watched, or listened to anything that is historical fiction, then you’ve already enjoyed fictional portrayals of real people. Humanity has always drawn upon truth when creating art (all the way back to cave paintings of hunters and animals), so I’ve never felt there was anything inherently harmful or disrespectful about writing fanfiction involving actual people.

2) Figure out who they are! Everyone has core characteristics that make them who they are as a person. You certainly don’t need to know (or stick to) all the actual details of someone’s life, but if you’re going to write someone convincingly, you have to have a handle on what drives them. This goes deeper than surface characteristics like hobbies or favorite colors. Instead, ask yourself: What do they most want to accomplish in life (fame, love, peace, fortune, freedom)? What are their greatest fears? What do they consider their own triumphs and failures? When do they feel happiest? While these core characteristics can change in response to life experiences - love, addiction, injury, betrayal, etc. - they are unlikely to ever disappear completely.

3) People are complicated! No one is all good or all evil. Don’t be afraid to depict someone as imperfect. Flaws do not make a character (or person) bad, but rather multifaceted and human! Even the most horrible actions often come from a place of misunderstanding, frustration, or desperation rather than malevolence. Flaws are often connected to someone’s worst fears (ex. being forgotten, misunderstood, unloved, restrained, or powerless).

4) Seek out inspiration! Anytime I find myself losing my sense of who a character is, I dive into source material. Watch interviews and concerts on YouTube. Read newspaper and magazine articles. Browse through photographs (I have a Pinterest board with like 800 photos of Queen!). This will help you visualize how someone moves, speaks, and generally experiences life.

I hope this helps a tiny bit! 💜

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justanartsysideblog · 7 years ago

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Shame

*flings a response to this at @feynites and somersaults away* Enjoy some more Fen’Sulahn AU!

---

It is a difficult thing, living with dishonor. More-so when all those who witness it never die.

Senwe has lived with the title of ‘daughter of a traitor’ since she was 80 years old. Papae, at least, died in battle, and did not have to witness the event, or live with the shame.

Mamae lives with it. She and Senwe walk down the streets of Adahlan and know that if it were not for Lady Fen’Sulahn’s unending compassion they would have had their marks stripped from them and sent to one of the labor camps upon the border...or worse yet, suffered the same fate of her Memae before Elgar’nan.

But Fen’Sulahn fought for them; for Senwe and her mother, who had been a loyal subject for centuries. Lady Fen’Sulahn had stopped her father’s Peacekeepers at the gates of Adahlan and made them turn back, stood up to the Lord Elgar’nan in Arlathan and incurred his rage for them, so that they could remain within her territories.

Senwe will never forget that.

She hears the whispers sometimes, from the other dyers and weavers when she goes to visit her mother. That the reason The Lady Fen’Sulahn saved her is because she is one of the rare few that knows how to create Adahlan’s famous red dye.

Senwe knows better. She knows how kind and just and compassionate Lady Fen’Sulahn is. It is why she trained so hard to become one of her warriors. To be granted a hound by the Lady herself and to gain her favor.

The happiest day in her life was the one in which Lady Fen’Sulahn gave her Femen. An honor. One she had worked so hard for. To know she had proven herself and had been noticed. Not for being the daughter of a traitor…but someone worthy of Fen’Sulahn and her hounds.

It is all she has ever wanted, to have Fen’Sulahn’s eyes fall upon her with interest and admiration and…and more, if she is honest with herself. But she knows she does not look like those that Lady Fen’Sulahn prefers, and her gifts have never been in the realm of shifting features.

But if she just…if she just works harder and shows herself to be a worthy companion, perhaps—

And then the construct appears. Broken, ruined, hollow of all things. It follows Lady Fen’Sulahn around like a lost puppy after its mother, until Sympathy manages to tear the thing away from her side. Her Lady is kind, and pities it despite its inability to feel, and does not strike it down.

And for all its offenses, somehow, somehow it seems as though the Lady Fen’Sulahn likes its company. It is because it was crafted for her, Senwe knows. By Ghilan’nain or Dirthamen or perhaps even June, though the last seems the most unlikely. And it keeps its secrets—lies to their Lady about its origins.

It is a spy, undoubtedly. Meant to evoke feelings of pity, to make Fen’Sulahn let her guard down because it is only an unfeeling and ignorant construct, and then it will strike.

Senwe will not allow it to happen. She will not allow her Lady to be put in danger by this…this…thing.

She is not the only one who is unkind to the construct, not the only one who is disconcerted by the hollow air around it, or the uncertainties of its background. She is not even the most vocal, but somehow..somehow she feels as if she hates it the most.

One night, she sees the construct sitting beside the banks of the Valan. The river is large, separating the city in half; its waters can run deep and wide, and Senwe knows that it becomes rough and unforgiving, once it leaves the boundaries of the city itself.

It would not be difficult, she thinks, to push the construct in. It likely cannot swim. She could pull it out to one of the deeper areas, and leave it there. Or she could hold it down beneath the shallow waters near the riverbed.

It is to protect her Lady. The construct is dangerous.

Hemen wines beside her, and the construct looks up, and a large mass on its other side shifts; what Senwe had mistaken for a boulder is Haurshos himself. His eyes glow a bit in the dim light, and it feels as if he knows what she had planned to do. As if he can sense it. But only Hemen has ever known her so well. Surely…

The element of surprise is gone, regardless. And Haurshos has likely been ordered by his Lady to protect the construct. Senwe knows she would not get more than three feet with a blade drawn before Haurshos snapped her body in half.

It is not fair.

She has done so much, worked so hard. She has pulled herself out of the shame her memae made her suffer all by herself. While her mamae locked herself away in the dye vaults, and spent half a century with her head down and her heart closed. Distant and uncaring about the whispers, refusing to better herself, content to remain an object of derision.

Senwe will not do the same.

She will make them all see, make Fen’Sulahn see, that she is worthy. That she is needed. That she is not the next in a legacy of traitors.

The Lady Andruil organizes a hunt. A hunt large enough that Fen’Sulahn calls on nearly half of her hounds. She stands proud and tall and beautiful, and Senwe looks down at her feet, so that she is not caught staring. Impulse had seen it once, and had only recently stopped teasing her over the matter.

And then her Lady calls for her. Her. To join the hunt with the others, despite her age. The youngest in Adahlan aside from Eloen, who is still a baby at 50.

This is her chance to prove herself once and for all. She will take the hunt; she will outdo Andruil’s hunters, and her Lady will finally notice her. The construct is not allowed outside of the city, and even Senwe knows how badly things would go if Andruil were to discover it. So there is nothing to deter her, or dampen her mood, as the party sets out for the eluvian to meet with Andruil’s hunting party.

It is her fault.

She had been faring well with the smaller prey, before the last day when they had finally tracked down the large beast that Ghilan’nain had crafted for the occasion. She had seen an opening, seen a chance to claim glory for herself in front of her Lady.

She should have remembered that Andruil was there as well…and that Andruil does not allow another to claim her kill without consequences.

The arrow was meant for her.

But Hemen took it instead; an arrow with a poison that would have killed her in minutes leaves Hemen in agony for hours, as they trek back to Adahlan in the hopes of saving him. Fen’Sulahn and Cymael the kennelmaster had done their best to stop the poison’s path to Hemen’s heart, but Cymael claimed that Sympathy could do more, and would be needed if they were to save him.

She knows the look in Sympathy’s eyes, the way his shoulders sag when he looks Hemen over, and she begins to sob as the hounds around her begin to whine and whimper, feeding off her own despair. No no no, this is Hemen, he cannot die. He is her dearest friend, he is…he is…

This is her fault.

She does not remember much of the night. She curls up on the bed beside her hound and weeps, and falls asleep with tears still leaking from her eyes, too exhausted to keep them open.

It is the construct that saves him, in the end.

When she awakens to Hemen licking her face clean, she throws her arms around him and cries all over again, before she turns to see Cymael sitting at the table near the door, grinding bitter smelling herbs in a mortar. “What…?” She manages, before coughing, and then swallowing to wet her dry throat. “What happened?” She does not let go of Hemen, as he tries to wriggle off his own bed and onto hers.

“Sympathy left a few hours ago,” Cymael replies, not looking up from his work. “He said that Hemen needs to eat the antidote once more, to fully purge the poison,” he shakes his head as he continues grinding, “it’s a miracle that the construct recognized the poison.”

Senwe pauses. “The…construct did this?” That can’t be right. Why would it help, even if it were able to?

“Sympathy made the antidote, but the construct Kel was the one who pointed out the poison used,” Cymael explains.

Senwe’s fingers tremble, as she buries them in Hemen’s fur, and she’s overcome with more shame than she’s ever felt in her entire life. More than when she’d been called ‘the traitor’s daughter’, or when one of Elgar’nan’s followers had poured acid into one of her mother’s dye vats and she’d refused to say a thing when Sympathy had asked what could have stripped the skin from her arms.

It was never the construct’s fault that Senwe has gone unnoticed. It has always been her own. She has not behaved in a manner worthy of Fen’Sulahn. Hemen nearly died because of it.

The construct—her, her name is Kel.

I will need to apologize, she thinks, as she presses her face into Hemen’s neck, and her hound gives an encouraging woof. She will never like Kel, she thinks. But she can…she can at least behave in a manner that does Fen’Sulahn proud.

Her name is Kel, she reminds herself. Kel.

#fen'sulahn au #senwe is a giant emotional mess with a self imposed chip on her shoulder #but she's getting there #she's slowly realizing that her own jealousy is the fuel for all of this #eventually she becomes one of Kel's staunchest defenders for her right to be a person #but she also totally sees Kel as a rival for Fen'Sulahn's affection #and will do anything outside of denying her personhood to one-up her on that front #kel #fen'sulahn #olwyn #senwe #sympathy

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bobasheebaby · 6 years ago

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Blast From The Past- Following Her Heart Chapter 2

Pairing: Athena x Perceval, Bailey (OC), Liam, Drake

Word count: 1,310

Warnings: angst, fluff

Summary: Back in New York, Athena introduces Percy to her cousin. Someone from Drake’s past shows up.

A/N: @mrsnazario1223 co-wrote this chapter with me. Love you girl!

It struck Athena as odd that there was still royal engagement tour, even if there was no engagement or even prospects for marriage. But events had been planned, so on they went. She was actually excited to go back to New York, she would get to see her fiery older cousin Bailey. She loved Bailey and missed her dearly, but mostly she couldn’t wait to introduce Bailey to the man who stole her heart, Duke Perceval Hunter of Winchester Cordonia. She had told Bailey all about him and she couldn’t wait for her to finally meet him. Maybe it was quick to introduce him to her only remaining family, but she had always been close to Bailey and wanted her to meet the guy who had stolen her from a king.

She waited in the hotel lobby nervously waiting for her cousin to show up, it had been months since she’d seen her cousin and she missed her dearly, that coupled with introducing Percy to her made her stomach twist in knots. Bailey could be a little protective of her being seven years older than Athena, she had become more like an older sister than cousin. The truth was Bailey’s acceptance meant the world to Athena, she didn’t know what she’d do if her only remaining family hated the man she loved. Percy noticed her nerves and squeezed their joined hands trying to remind her he was there for her. Athena softly smiled, he always knew how to read her and how to calm her down and make her feel better. She looked up him offered a small thankful smile, she got so lucky with hiim.

Athena turned back to look at the door in time to see a ginger headed woman walk in the door, her smile grew as she saw her cousin come towards her.

“Thena!” Bailey exclaimed has she embraced her younger, yet taller cousin.

She pulled back and took in Perceval, silently appraising him. He was tall, she’d guess at least 6’, dark hair, Hazel eyes, salt and pepper beard. He was dressed differently than she’d expect of a Duke, wearing dark jeans, grey henley, with a black leather jacket, but Athena told her he preferred comfort. He was older, but she knew that. He seemed nice enough, but she’d have to check him out, she trusted her cousin’s judgment, but she’d always been protective, vetting any guy her younger cousin dated.

“You must be Duke Perceval,” Bailey stated, extending her hand to shake his.

“Just Perceval is fine.” He replied, shaking her hand, he always hated the formal title, but also hoped to make a good impression with the redhead. If he ever wanted to make Athena his wife, he knew having her approval would make things easier. From what he heard about her she didn’t hold things back, if she didn’t like you, you knew.

Bailey joined Athena and Perceval for dinner, over the course of the meal she got a feel for the man who stole her cousins heart. She could tell he had her best interests at heart, and Athena looked genuinely happy, the happiest she’s seen her since she lost her parents while she was in college. Bailey could see why Athena fell so fast for Perceval, he truly was perfect for her. Leaving them, Bailey felt confident that he wouldn’t hurt Athena and would continue to make her happy.

*****

Liam had to get away as he found the nearest bar. He ordered the strongest drink on the menu as he sidled up at the bar. He leaned over, holding his head in his hands as he mulled over everything that had just happened, everything he could have done differently. He pulled out the large 4ct ring that had been burning a hole in his pocket. A tear rolled down his cheek as he thought how he had planned to propose to the woman of his dreams just the night before. He thought throwing away his image would be enough to win her heart. Sadly he was mistaken.

*****

Bailey stopped in at her favorite bar after meeting the man that stole he cousins heart when she saw him sitting there alone. She would’ve recognized him anywhere, considering all of the pictures her cousin had sent her. Bailey wanted to meet the man that had pushed Athena into the arms of another man. As she approached him she could see he was playing with a diamond ring in between his fingers, the ring that he most likely intended to give Athena. She tapped him on the should, getting his attention.

“Liam?” She asked. “I’m Bailey, Athena’s cousin.” She continued, offering a soft smile.

“Oh, so your Athena’s cousin?” Liam asked, right away he could see the family resemblance, a spark that the two of them shared.

“That’s me, mind if I join you?” She asked gesturing to the empty seat next to him.

As the night drew on Bailey could understand by the way he spoke that it was never Liam’s intention for things to go the way they had. She could see that he was honestly trying to protect her cousin, although maybe not in the best of ways. She found him endearing and she couldn’t help but smile.

As Liam got to know Bailey and hearing about how she and Athena would get into trouble as kids he smiled for the first time since Athena broke his heart. Liam felt comfortable with Bailey around. There was something about her that seemed to bring a smile to his face even on the darkest of days, something that lit a fire inside him. It could’ve been her fiery personality or the fact that she was outspoken, both being qualities that are never found in a noble woman, but he felt himself being drawn to her.

Liam watched out of the corner of his eye, Drake walking up to his table, no doubt that he was there in an attempt to cheer him up, it was all he was trying to do since Athena broke his heart.

“Bailey?!” Drake exclaimed in shock. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Drake this is Bailey, Athena’s cousin.” Liam said as he introduced them.

“You’re Athena’s cousin?” Drake asked surprised that his past was walking back into his life.

Sensing that the two had history Liam couldn’t help but ask. “Do you two know each other?”

“Yeah, we met when I escaped Cordonia,.” Drake chuckled before continuing “so you’re Athena’s cousin!”

Bailey nodded, she could feel the butterflies she felt back in college return, which she found puzzling because she felt a similar chemistry with Liam.

“We met when I was at Hartfeld, she was a junior, I was a freshman rushing for a stupid Fraternity, I was streaking in the quad and I literally ran into her.” Drake explained, scoffing at the fact that he ever rushed, the feelings he ignored until Leo came to get him came flooding back.

The three of them laughed as Drake and Bailey shared stories of when they hung out in college.

Liam watched Bailey as her face lit up when she spoke, she spoke with such enthusiasm that he felt a flutter in his stomach. In that moment it seemed as if time froze. He didn’t have any kingly duties to worry about nor did the hole in his chest seen quite as big. It was just the three of them, the man who had his heart and the woman that was coming increasingly close to stealing it. He wanted to see her again, but how?

“Bailey, I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but I’d really like to see you again. Will you join me for the UN dinner coming up?” Liam asked hopefully, he felt like he might be able to move on.

A/N: What do you think of Athena's cousin Bailey my new OC? Do you want to see more of her?

Following Her Heart Masterlist

Masterlist

Tags: @walkerismychoice @mrsnazario1223 @ladynonsense @madaraism @hhiggs @butindeed @boneandfur @drakewalkerwhipped @mfackenthal @pens-girl-87 @nobodyfromnowhere45 @drakelover78 @awesomeevaneposts @kawairinrin @indiacater @laniquelove @mlmseangayle @omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts @imafictosexual @jyruesser85 @trr-fangirl @itsalliepg @theroyalweisme @diamond-dreamland @crookedslimecreatorpasta @umccall71 @lizeboredom @speedyoperarascalparty @xxrainbowprincessxx @lolablackwrites @imma-winchester-addict @hopefulmoonobject @moodygrip @alicars @mrsdrakewalkerblog

#angst #following her heart #choices the royal romance #trr au #drake walker #king liam #perceval hunter #percy x athena #bailey morgan #athena morgan #new oc #smidge of fluff #mc x oc

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arrowsbane · 8 years ago

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never judge a book

Fair warning. You may hate me after this. Or you might hate me for making you like this possibility. I know @the-all-seer does. <3 Love you darling~

Okay, so Beauty and the Beast was never my favourite fairy tale growing up. In all honesty, it was always tied between Rumpelstiltskin and the Pied Piper… but I went to school with a girl who I swear to god, is very likely to name her second daughter Belle, or failing that, her first son Adam. Like, she’s crazy scary in love with the tale. So I have had a lot of time to muse the story over, and have heard the OST far too many times to be considered healthy.

And you know what? Something that always bugged me is how pop!culture loves villains. Cough. Loki. Cough. Dracula. Cough. Freddy Krueger. Cough. The Joker. Cough. ect…

(and man, do not get me started on Loki, because I watched those movies in detail, with a psychology textbook on hand, in order to analyse that jotun boy and let me tell you: brain. washed. idiot. child. with. daddy. issues.)

So, I could totally see Belle and Gaston actually working.

No, don’t talk. Shut up and listen.

Think on this:

1. B&B was originally written as a tale to help young women cope with the idea of leaving home to get married (or so I have heard through the grapevine).

2. Also, Adam has been under that curse for a fucking long time and so is probably like three hundred years old. So don’t start with me on the age gap.

3. And finally? The curse stipulated that Adam must learn to ‘love, and be loved in return’. As in, to be able to accept that he was loved by somebody. It never said it had to be romantic love.

And yes, I’m sure his servants-turned-family quite possibly loved him, I mean, Mrs. Potts. That lady is amazing and probably loved him like a son – even if they all had a shit ton of reasons to hold a grudge. But there is no way on earth that Adam would have accepted their love. Um, Guilt. Suspicion. Brattyness. Rage. The sneaking feeling that they only stuck around because a) cursed and b) he used to pay them. Payment kinda became irrelevant during the curse, but wow talk about a shit ton of backpay, am I right?

Moving on now…

Maurice is getting older, and Belle… Belle’s not getting any younger. He wants grandchildren one day, wants his daughter to be happy, and well, marriage seems to make most women happy, right?

Unfortunately for him, Belle was born and raised in Paris – city of love and light and art. Belle wants more than to just get married and have kids and die of old age in a tiny provincial town in the middle of nowhere. Belle wants adventure and romance.

Now, Gaston. Gaston is 1000% convinced that he’s in love with her, and refuses to marry any other girl (much to the chagrin of his groupies), and so that pretty much means that as the village’s golden boy, they’re pretty much on his side for this matter and constantly saying stuff to Maurice about him.

“Such a nice young man,” one woman comments.

“He’s going to make a wonderful father,” coos an elderly grandmother.

“Excellent hunter, that Gaston,” praises the butcher, holding up six plump pheasants by their tail-feathers in one meaty fist.

So yeah, Maurice caves. He caves so hard. Because he wants what is best for his daughter… and well… Gaston is the best. Belle is not happy about this. But she’s a good girl, and quite frankly, she has absolutely no survival skills, and really loves her dad, so she does as she’s told.

So Gaston gets the girl, and they sign on the dotted line before the whole village – and this guy is the happiest fucking man on the planet.

Until they shut the door to their new home, and Belle whirls on him with all the viciousness of a wild boar. This tiny little woman, who can’t weight more than a hundred and twenty pounds, has him pinned to the wall with her eyes, is practically spitting lightning.

She tells him how it’s going to go. He might have her as a wife, but that’s in name only. They will not be sharing a bed. Or else.

And yeah, that threat sounds feeble, but Gaston’s mind goes dangerous places – he’s terrified that she’ll make sure to be seen smiling and flirting with every man in the village, and then some, and the last thing he wants is for his wife to run off with a band of gypsies. Because something worse than not have getting married to her – is the concept of getting married (an oh look, he did) and then having her leave him.

He’s not happy about this, but well… she looks scary. And serious.

And so… they just exist. And they fight. Over stupid shit.

And then he goes off to the pub and drinks himself silly with his mates, and she cries her eyes out at the dinner table with a place set for one.

There’s no fire in their hearth.

Their home is an empty façade.

And this fucking sucks.

And then one day, Gaston is in the next village over, passing through after chasing a flock of geese (bang, bang, hello dinner) and he sees this bookshop. So, y’know, he tries.

But, well… Belle is rather unimpressed at being presented with a cookbook. Like, excuse you, asshole.

He tried okay. But in all honesty, Gaston doesn’t really understand the point of books.

He says as much.

She throws the book at his head.

“What the hell woman? What kind of books do you read then?” He squawks, rather upset at having his ‘thoughtful gift’ literally thrown back in his face.

Belle sighs. He’s an idiot.

That evening, he’s sat by the fire (it’s too cold now to leave it unlit, autumn is creeping to a close), polishing and cleaning his gun. It’s his pride and joy, and a very important tool that requires proper care.

Belle cautiously settles in a nearby chair, book in hand.

“Nobody ever read you stories when you were little, did they?” She asks. It’s a thought that’s been circling in her head all day – he grew up with a father and two older brothers, mother dead from a wasting sickness – there’s no way he had somebody reading to him before bed.

“No,” he agrees, eyes unfocused from the memories, “they didn’t.”

Then Belle opens the book, and begins to read.

It’s an old story – there’s a Princess and a Dragon, and a Knight in shining armour. There’s a castle on a hill, and a kingdom that will need a King.

And… after a while, Gaston’s steady rhythm of wiping oil up and down the barrel of the gun begins to slow as he’s drawn in. Belle’s voice is steady and warm, and the heat from the fire is making him sleepy.

By the time Belle reaches the last page, the gun is set on the hearth, and they are both yawning.

And then it’s over, and time for bed.

And tentatively, Gaston asks, “Can… can you read another one tomorrow?”

Belle beams.

And that’s just what they do.

It’s ridiculous, because at first Gaston doesn’t understand what’s happening in the books, and he’s always interrupting her – to the point where Belle starts smacking his shoulder (at this point, he’s tucked into the couch with her) in order to shush him.

And then it graduates to them arguing over the plotlines and who should get the girl at the dinner table – and sometimes the breakfast table if they don’t agree to disagree the night before.

So they get along. Quite happily actually.

And they start to get to know each other.

They even sleep in the same bed – although they silently agree that sex is still off the table. For now.

Gaston loves to listen to her read, loves the way she just lights up when she talks about books, and Belle learns that his pride in shooting isn’t just a ‘let’s kill shit’ deal. It’s hard work, and he’s spent years learning. And he’s proud to be able to provide for a family.

And they fall in love.

Gaston fell in lust with Belle on a Sunday – her first Sunday there, when everybody was at church, but he falls in love with her on a Thursday. And like, he doesn’t know when he started to hear people say “oh she’s a funny one, she’s nothing like the rest of us that Belle,” and think ‘you’re only half right,’.

Belle doesn’t know when she fell in love, but it’s late on Monday afternoon when she figures it out. And it frightens her, because she’s learnt to love him, and their life together.

Sometimes she dreams about tiny children with brown hair and blue eyes, with his smile and her laughter. It scares her, because she still wants more. Still wants adventure. But at the same time, she’s happy where she is, doesn’t want to leave the home and life that they’ve built together.

It starts to twist her thoughts and dreams far more than she’d like.

And then comes the tale of two star-crossed lovers from fair Verona, on one balmy late summer’s evening.

(Oh wow. Bad idea. Abort abort abort.

The engines have stalled, and this ship may go crashing into an iceberg.)

It’s straight up the worst fight they’ve had in, well, ever…

Belle is a romantic, completely in love with the story.

And Gaston? He’s a realist – doesn’t understand what is wrong with Juliet’s parents wanting the best match possible, or see what the deal is about Paris. She’s too young to be making decisions for herself.

Why couldn’t Juliet be happy with Paris – Belle’s happy with him, right?

Right?

Belle doesn’t answer. She is. But she doesn’t want to admit it – it feels like it’d be admitting defeat.

They fight.

Oh god, do they fight.

The neighbours pretend they don’t notice, but good lord, the gossip in the morning is delightfully scandalous.

Belle goes back to her father’s house for a week.

And then he goes missing, and she goes chasing after him.

There’s a castle full of animated inanimate objects and a beast, and her father is in chains…

She trades herself without a thought – because she’s ruined her marriage, right?

Maurice tearfully flees back to the village, only to find that nobody believes him. They think he’s insane with grief because Belle is missing and there are tear tracks dried on his cheeks.

Gaston rages, grieves, panics, worries… but it doesn’t change the fact that Belle is gone.

Time passes. Things happen. Gaston sits alone in an empty home. Empty chairs are tucked into an empty table. There’s a hole in his life where the sun used to be.

Autumn fades into winter, winter melts into spring.

Eventually, in a castle hidden from the world, the spell breaks, just in time for the last petal to flutter from its bearer.

The household cheers in victory, Adam is overjoyed – thinks that he’s found his one true love.

He spins Belle around and around in his arms, and drops to one knee.

“Marry me,” He asks.

And the Belle goes very, very still.

Her hand slips out of his, and she steps backwards.

“No.”

It’s like time has frozen once more, and there is a shocked and horrified feeling in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him. “I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

And then the final blow.

“I’m married,” she reminds him. She’s sworn before God to be faithful to one man, and one man only.

Even if he probably hates her now. Even if he might think she’s dead.

“You have a whole world to explore, to see.” She tells him, once she’s packed up her things – nothing and no one can sway her, it’s time to go home. “There’s more to it that one little castle.”

Belle knows now, that there is way more to her simple provincial life than she’d ever expected there to be. That the best adventures are the ones you take with somebody else. And that marriage, is one of the grandest adventures of all.

And that is okay.

Adam… Adam learns what heartbreak feels like, but she’s very good at explaining things, and so he does what she says. He goes out into the wide world and he learns. He tries the food, and talks to people – visits Notre Dame and speaks with philosophers and scholars, dances with ladies from all over.

Belle makes her way home, letting herself into a home she hasn’t seen in many, many months.

“I’m, home,” she says to nobody.

And sets about tidying up – because apparently Gaston fails at cleaning.

She washes the dishes and sweeps the floor. She fluffs up pillows and lights the fire.

And then when he walks through the door, she smiles at him.

“Hi,” she says.

…

Gaston listens intently to her story, the whole time cradling her in his arms and barely daring to believe that she’s home safe. She tells him of a library bigger than half the villages, and of talking teapots, of singing clocks and a little tiny cup with a chip on his shoulder and the biggest smile in the world.

He listens, and he is so freaking proud of her.

She saved so many lives – and she did it all by just being herself. She did it by loving people for who they were, regardless of their shape.

She changed a beast into a man – and actually, he’s not the least bit surprised, because it wouldn’t be the first time now, would it.

Their first child is born in the spring, just after the first thaw – he’s got blue eyes (although they could change, all babies have blue eyes) and black hair.

He’s perfect.

Gaston says that they should name him Adam, and Belle cries tears of joy.

The first story they ever read to him is the story of a man trapped in the form of a Beast, and of the girl whose heart was big enough to love everybody.

Because you should never judge a book by its cover.

The End.

#beauty and the beast #gaston #belle #it could happen #haters gonnna hate #au #very very au #um... I had a dream?#fairy tale #fairy tale redeux #mine

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