#Not Excited For Gael Though.

[lordrandreaming]

Fought Darkeater Midir at 3 in the morning and won the second try... Totally didn't remember how to fight him after endless times of solo and co-op sessions

[sakashq]

can we pleaseee get something happy 🥹 perhaps like a dad!pedri fluff? ♥️♥️ love you’re work by the way!

She’s Mine. pedri gonzález x fem!reader

🤍 summary: You and Pedri had a baby girl and you can’t get over how he is as a dad.

🤍 warnings: extremely adorable fluff + baby mara ☹️💕

🤍 wc: 500+

🤍 yap! i love you guys so here’s something happy <3 congrats on being the first request anon !!

🤍 my girls <3 extra special dedication to pedri’s real wife @planetpedri !! &&. @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @iovepoem @joaoflms @halfwayhearted 💕

Three years ago,

It had been a few days since you had given birth to your beautiful baby girl, Mara. As soon as Pedri laid his eyes on her and held him in his arms he said, “She’s mine. She’s all mine” and you couldn’t help but smile. He had been excited for this baby the whole nine months through, helping you through the entirety of the pregnancy. Even though he won’t admit it, you swear he started crying when you revealed it to him.

Months later, Mara began to babble, saying things in her baby language only she could understand. Then her first word came; Papi. Another moment that Pedri refuses to admit made him shed a tear.

Once she started to walk, she followed Pedri everywhere. If he went to the bathroom, she would stand outside the door and wait for him. He wanted to cook? Okay, so did Mara. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, begging mommy to take her to his matches. And you would, wearing a jersey that was a little too big for her with her daddy’s name on the back and pigtails in her hair.

A year later,

Mara had begun speaking in full sentences. It was kind of broken, but she still tried her best. She had grown to be friends with Raphinha’s son, Gael. While the two kids hung out, Pedri and Rapha did too. You would stay and talk to Raphinha’s wife, Taia, and both of your families would sometimes go out together as one.

You remember one night Mara was a year and a half years old and you and Pedri were having a quiet argument while she slept. Your voices began to raise from just above a whisper, waking your baby.

“Mamá, papi, are you okay?” She asked, an innocent tone in her voice. She had inherited Pedri’s big brown eyes, which just added onto the softness of it all. Naive Mara was, not yet having the capability to pick up on things.

“Everything’s okay, nena. Come here,” Pedri answered for the two of you, Mara climbing into bed with the two of you, your small family falling asleep together.

A year after that,

Pedri and you decided it was time for Mara to have a friend at home, thus became the idea of ‘Nilo.’ Nilo was not one specific dog yet, but the two of you decided together that that was going to be its name. You decided to surprise your baby for her second birthday, and excited was an understatement.

“It’s a puppy!” She exclaimed as she chased Nilo around, petting him repeatedly once she reached him.

You caught Pedri smiling at his baby and his new dog. “He’s all yours, nena.”

The four of you would now go on trips together, one being the zoo. Mara was now fully walking and you and Pedri had taught her to hold him on a leash.

She would walk him around and show him the animals, pointing at one and saying, “Look Nilo!”

The ones she couldn’t see at her height she would whine and her papi would pick her up. She would gasp and say, “Mamá! Look!” And point out the color of the animal.

The next year,

There was a home match in Barcelona and Mara hadn’t been to one in a while. This time, you went with Gael and Taia, the children wearing customized jerseys with their own names on them while you and Taia represented your husbands.

At this game in particular, Pedri scored with Rapha’s assist. Although the kids didn’t quite understand it much, they still celebrated their fathers’ goal and assist together.

Instead of his signature celebration, Pedri decided he was going to dedicate his goal to his girls; you and Mara.

[lunarmoonanons]

The Second Quarrel

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

After Jaehaerys proclaims his son will be heir over his granddaughter, Alysanne and he have their second monumental quarrel. Separating YN from her dear friend once again.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

YN skipped around the red keep, having finished her lessons with the septa earlier she was excited to find Daemon or watch him as he practiced his lessons. She wished Gael could come watch him with her, but she was slower with her studies so she had to stay behind. On the way to the training yard, YN had the brilliant idea to visit her father. Deciding that this was a better course of action, YN detoured and hopped her way to her father’s council. Knowing that her mother would be there most likely made her go a little faster. 

As soon as she was within earshot, YN slowed down. Having heard raised voices and seen the guards waver she questioned herself. The eight year old recognized her parents voices and started to make her way toward the room cautiously only to be stopped by the guards who showed a face of concern. 

“Best not to interrupt, little princess.” One of the guards kindly said. Though both guards felt bad when YN looked at them with sadness. “Perhaps you can sit outside and wait for the queen?”

“No. I’ll see mama and daddy later.” YN said sadly. Before she went she placed her ear against the door to listen for a moment. 

“... If your grace truly believes women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me.” YN heard her mother’s angry voice. 

Before anyone could leave, YN turned away and started to find the training yard. She stopped when she heard a slamming door and saw her mother storming her way towards her. The angry look on her mothers face made her nervous and made her want to forget about seeing Daemon. 

“Mama…” YN tried to speak. 

“YN. Get ready. We’re leaving for Dragonstone.” Alysanne told her child as she grabbed YN’s tiny hand in hers. “I’ll tell your septa to pack your things.”

“I wanted to say hello to Daemon…” YN whispered and teared up. 

Alysanne sighed at this and ran her fingers through her daughter's silver hair. “Alright. Say your goodbyes to Daemon. Then come to your rooms immediately afterwards. Do not cry my love. I am not angry with you.” 

YN wiped her eyes and continued her journey to the training yard. She knew Daemon would be there, since he took his training seriously. If he wasn’t learning the history of their house and of Valyria. YN thought he was very gifted and talented. He was one of her best friends after all. After Gael of course. So she tried to think of all the things she wanted to say to him, everything that was going through her mind. She hadn’t seen Daemon since her brother’s funeral. Her mother and father still wanted to keep them apart. YN never understood why, she loved spending time with Daemon. And assumed one day that he would be married to her older sister Gael as they were close in age and in the tradition of their house. 

Eventually, after dragging her feet, YN found her way to the training yard. She smiled at the sight of her other brother Baelon with Daemon and Viserys. Baelon stopped his swordplay with his younger son to smile at his sister. Daemon followed his father’s gaze and instantly beamed when he saw his favorite person. 

“Ah YN. Has mother released you to us?” Baelon asked and knelt to his sister, accepting her kiss on his cheek. 

“I need to speak to Daemon.” YN stated and walked toward Daemon after Baelon nodded to her. 

“I’ve missed you since that day of the funeral. It is terrible that we were reunited under such a sad moment.” Daemon tried to charm. But as usual it went over YN’s head.

“I have so much to say but I don’t know how to say it.” YN said looking down at her hands. 

“You can say everything to me.” Daemon reassured. Then was taken aback by YN reaching forth and hugging him tightly. 

“Mama and papa got in another fight. And now I’m to go away to Dragonstone.” YN whimpered and placed her face on his shoulder. 

“So you'll be gone. Again?” 

“I hate being away. But I’m pulled like a toy between mama and papa. I only have Gael.” YN cried. 

“You have me.” Daemon pulled back and placed his hands on her upper arms looking at her sad face. “We’ll write. We’ll keep in touch. They can’t keep us apart from each other.” 

“You’re one of my best friends. Do you promise to write me? Even if I’m not that smart or interesting?” YN asked. 

“I’ll keep you in check of everything that happens here. You can’t get rid of me.” Daemon tried to kiss her on the cheek, but YN unknowingly pulled away and smiled at him. Before he could say anything else, YN walked away from him not paying attention to his intense gaze on her back. 

After saying goodbye to Viserys and Baelon, YN did as her mother said and made her way to her room. She sighed at the sight of her septa packing her clothes away in cases and did as the septa said. Staying out of the way and grabbing her toy carved clay turtle. YN asked where her mother was, but got her answer when she heard shouting from another room. Slinking away to the other room and regretting it instantly when she saw her beloved parents fighting once again. 

“YOU’LL NOT TAKE MY DAUGHTER FROM ME!” Jaehaerys shouted. 

“Why shouldn’t I?! You place no value in women! No value in your daughters!” Alysanne bit back. 

“YN is my youngest child! My most precious girl! I’ll not allow you to take her!” Her father yelled. 

“So you can force her to marry?! So you can hold her as less than a man?! I know your heart and you care nothing for our girls! You’ve not even asked about Gael!” 

Jaehaerys sighed angrily. “I have my reasons for what I do Alys!” 

“So do I! And YN is coming with me! I dare you to try and take her!”

“Fine! Take her! Separate her from her father and see how quickly she begins to hate you!” 

“You’ll never turn my daughter against me!” 

The argument ended with another slammed door. YN silently used the other door to leave. Silently sitting on her bed in her and Gael’s room. Bowing her head down and crying as quietly as she could. She didn’t want to leave. She hated her parents fighting, especially over her. Blaming herself for the fight and not being brave enough to stop it. She hated leaving Daemon, hated being put above her playmate Gael. 

Gael noticed her favorite sister crying on the bed. Making her way over and sitting next to her. She wrapped her arms around her younger sister and tried comforting her. Gael was not as fast or as witty as others but she could always be there for her sister. The two understood each other better than anyone. 

Humming a song, Gael calmed her sister down. Then hugged her tight.

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #8 | 02.06.24

AHA! It's February (has been for a few days, but I've been a bit busy as per usual) so that means another Lost in Limbo devlog! We have been recovering from our wrap-up, working left and right, and oooh boy aren't things getting interesting. Let's jump into it, shall we?

First of all...

🎉🎊🎊THE DEMO CGS ARE DONE!🎉🎉🎊

Raquel has worked SO HARD to achieve this, and the results are simply amazing. We could never ask for a better artist, and we can't wait for you all to see and experience every CG for yourselves. Sadly, we made a promise of only showing Gael and Amon's, so you'll have to wait a bit more for the others! ; v ;

And next! You thought we were finished with the characters?! NOT BY A LONG SHOT! As you may remember, our demo script went through a few changes, but this secondary character remains! We don't want to talk about them too much, but we also wanted you to have a taste of them, as they'll be the first character you'll meet... 👀💜

Our plan is to finish this sprite and then move on to the character's expressions. We have to figure out the most efficient way to work on them, though!

The dreaded section—but THIS MONTH we come with a wonderful announcement...

✨🎆Airyn has joined the team!✨🎆

And you'll ask, who's Airyn?! Well, she's an amazing person we met during our master degree; we have been developing a friendship for a while now, and as we needed an extra hand with our backgrounds, Airyn offered us her help! She's an incredibly talented concept artist who loves working on backgrounds, and we are so so thankful for her help! We literally couldn't ask for a better professional to join us during our demo journey :')!

You can see some of Airyn's work on her ArtStation, here!

She has already started to work on our unfinished backgrounds, and so far we can offer you this fantastic WIP of one of the places you'll visit in the demo! 💜

But Astro is not far behind! He's getting our last background ready, and so far he's doing an impeccable job! We hope these mysterious places are piquing your curiosity, because we definitely can't wait for you to visit them!

I'm reaching page 100 of our script, having left behind a few things to correct! Only 40~ pages left, which means soon we'll make a second round of editing and correcting. Allie is almost done with their first editing process and that's very exciting! We can't honestly thank her enough for her incredible job 💜(I think I say this a bit too much, but we gotta be thankful on this team!)

The CG's have been programmed and they work so far! Now each character has a CG to be unlocked and seen in full HD, and each in their own gallery, hehe. Next I'll have to play around with the credits because I was having trouble with something last time I tried to get them done—but as always, I'll get it done one way or another!

This month we have worked hard! January has been a good start of the year I think. I hope we can speed things up a bit now that we have Airyn to help us with the backgrounds, and hopefully she'll be a permanent addition to the team if everything goes well! I don't want to jinx it, but I feel I can see the end of the tunnel little by little. Planning stuff, looking up different things, getting busier and busier...Let's see if February, even if short, proves to be a productive month!

Also, we hope you all have been taking care and the start of the year has been nice to you. There's so many amazing things happening in the indie otome community, so make sure to enjoy it all! 💜

[maya-guerrero]

it was intended to be a stress-free, easy going afternoon spent at the beach where Maya and Gael could relax and try to keep their minds off of the elephant in the room. a difficult feat, with her mind buzzing ever since they decided a few weeks ago that they’re ready to start trying for a baby, unable to think of anything else now that they’re completely finished with wedding planning and just waiting for the big day to arrive in a couple of weeks.

Maya knew deep down that taking a pregnancy test last week was premature, but she couldn’t help the bubble of excitement that flooded her at simply the possibility that she could be pregnant. she knew Gael felt the same way, though he did his best to hide that excitement from her. after taking the test and seeing the results, Maya caught on to the look of disappointment that flashed quickly across his features. if she hadn’t already been paying attention to him she may have missed it, but she’s more in tune to her husband’s feelings than she is with her own, most days. she knows he can’t wait for the day she’s pregnant and wants nothing more than to give that to him as soon as possible.

trailing her fingers along her husband’s sun-kissed back as he lays on his stomach, Maya traces his freckles and the ink that spreads across his bicep and down his forearm. he’s been snoozing on an off for the past hour, leaving her to daydream about what their future baby would look like. will they have Gael’s messy curls and bright blue eyes? she secretly hopes so, though she knows he’d fight her on that and say their children have to have her deep brown eyes.

cuddling next to him so her head rests on his back, Maya closes her eyes after pressing a kiss against him, knowing that they’ll eventually have everything they’re currently dreaming of. they just need to be a little patient.

[gael-guerrero]

“Mom. English, por favor.” Gael tells his mother for the third or fourth time with an apologetic glance to his wife while squeezing her hand. The elder Guerrero gets like this when she’s emotional, whether it’s good or bad. Her words bleed from English to Spanglish to full blown Spanish, taking a mile a minute that even if you speak the language it’s hard to follow.

“I don’t understand why you had to do it right then and there. You propose with the ring, you don’t do it all at once. I raised you better than that, mijo!” She shoots her now daughter-in-law a sympathetic glance which elicits an eye roll as a response from her son.

“I didn’t pick Maya up fire man style and carry her to the altar.” He scoffs which prompted a warning glare from his father. Growing up, Gael never understood why his father would side with his mother in every disagreement. Sitting beside his wife today, he had no questions.

“All I am saying is that this was a mutual decision we made together because we love each other. Deeply. So much so we didn’t want to wait for all the planning, the bells and whistles, before we became husband and wife. We’ll do the whole thing soon enough.”

There’s a loving glance passed between his parents as he speaks and Gael knows he’s got them. Even though they still disapprove of the elopement, he can tell they understood and that’s all that matters to him. The tension that hung in the air of his childhood living room dissipates and there are smiles around the room. Maya squeezes his hand and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You’re going to have a ceremony in a Catholic church, si?” His mother questions, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen across the Guerrero’s.

“In Italy.” Maya tells her, the excitement already dancing in her gaze as she speaks. Gael smiles, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple as she continues into the details of ideas they had shared about their wedding plans with his mother before leaning back to get comfortable on the couch, watching his family.

[irish-urn]

✨️ & 💌

For the ask meme! 💜

Greetings lovely human!!!

✨What’s a fic you’ve posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

Ha ha... So, I started writing fic with RobStar from Teen Titans. And two+ years ago I did the DickKory/RobStar week and wrote 6 stories out of 7 (ran out of ideas...) and I was honestly super proud of them and wish that that fandom was more alive than it is...

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

OKAY. I have SOOOOO many WIPs on the go (which, um, y'all probably are aware since I keep whining about it) BUT, I've spent the last week outlining and screaming at my friend about what I've been calling the mustache fic and its sequels. Um. It's a comedic AU of my kick at the darkness series (because I do what I want), where the Gaels decide to do Movemeber during Derek's second year and Casey's first year at Queen's. It leads to... well... a lot of fun, if we're being honest. AND I'M SO EXCITED TO WRITE IT because I think it's gonna be HILARIOUS, I am putting MINIMAL drama in it -- I can't say no drama because this is Derek and Casey and they are very dramatic people -- and I GET TO WRITE THE HOCKEY BROS. I AM SO EXCITED because them and their friendship with Derek and then Casey is SO GLORIOUS and there's honestly something I find very wholesome about male friendships and they're always a blast to write. I don't have any of it written yet because life has kicked my butt a little. BUT. I think it's gonna be the next thing(s) I write, even though I have sooooo many other WIPs to work on... But I am so excited!!

[eliaskahtri]

TIMING: A couple weeks ago LOCATION: Bigfeet’s Adventureland PARTIES: Elias and Gael SUMMARY: Gael makes good on that date he told Elias he’d take him on. And what better place for a guy’s first date than a theme park based on his date’s favorite thing? CONTENT WARNINGS: Vomit mentions (brief) Ever since going on that hike, engaging in arm wrestling with Elias and learning that the man had never gone on a date and wanted to go with him of all people, Gael had put some serious time and energy into looking for what would be considered a great first date. Elias liked hiking, nature, cryptids, nerdy stuff, cats… He could work with almost all of those and he was thankful that he had such a flexible roommate-turned-date.

After much deliberation and a literal coin flip due to indecision, along with reminiscing on his own dates that he had when he was younger, he finally found a place that he thought Elias would love. The two were in Gael’s little ice-blue convertible mini-cooper where Gael insisted that the other man either look studiously at his feet or wear a blindfold to keep the surprise. Small talk, either, ‘we’ll be there soon’ sprinkled into the conversation for good measure and he pulled into a parking spot, a little ways away from where the entrance to the location was though he could already hear the sounds of the roller coasters . “Okay, you can look now.” He said, patting Elias on the shoulder as he unfastened his seatbelt and started to get out of the car. Gael wanted to keep his eye on Elias to gauge his reaction and while he was fairly certain that he made a good call, he still found himself slightly anxious that maybe he didn’t.

Elias had been shocked when Gael said that he would still take him on a date. It all felt surreal as he rode in the car to wherever it was they were headed. He kept his head down, opted not to be blindfolded. He spent most of the time weaving in “are you sure you can’t tell me where we’re going?” Into their conversation as the chemistry professor drove. Finally, he was told he could look up. 

As he looked up, Elias’s jaw dropped as he realized where they were. “Bigfeet’s Adventureland!” He exclaimed, letting out a laugh of excitement and clapping his hands together. He thought back to all the teenagers that were making fun of him on the internet for wanting to come here for a moment, but then shook his head. “You really know how to pick it,” he commented as he looked back to Gael. “That’s worth some good points right there,” he decided with a nudge to the other man before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. He might be a 35-year-old man, but dammit, he was excited. “This is already amazing and we haven’t even gone in yet.” He rambled on, eyes alight with excitement.

As they walked to the admission booth, Elias felt himself getting more and more excited. “I’ve been doing research on the cryptids that are believed to be in this area, and there’s quite a few.” He spoke as he got his wallet out of his pocket to pay for their tickets. “I’ll pay for admission,” he insisted, putting his card down for the worker before Gael could protest or put his own money down. He grinned in Gael’s direction, feeling triumphant. “Apparently if you rub the Bigfeet feet in the front of the park, they give you good luck.” He explained to Gael as they entered the park, stopping at the pair of feet and pointing down at them with a wiggle of his brows. “Do you wish to have good luck?” He spoke, gesturing to the feet as if to tempt the other. 

Even if they decided to turn around and leave, the look on Elias’ face was worth the trip out there to Gael - the elation, the childish enthusiasm, and Gael was pleased that he made a good choice. Elias had been… the past week was decidedly rough for him and the least the professor could do was try to lift his spirits just in case they were still low. “If you’ve already been, I’m sorry,” He laughed, his own mood picking up on Elias’ energy. Gael was still excited himself, though - it had been years since he’d been to an amusement park. He listened to Elias’ ramblings as they approached the gate and he started to get his wallet out but exchanged a glance with the taller man as the latter said he’d pay. “But–” He cut himself off; pick your battles. If Elias wanted to pay even though this was Gael taking him on an old-fashioned date to an amusement park, then they were both old enough to make those calls. Instead, he gave Elias a smirk and he put his wallet back where he could easily access it for a future purchase once they were inside. The expression faltered, however, as the other man pointed to the statue of a pair of very large feet on the inside. His nose crinkled as they seemed to certainly smell real, even if they were fake and that look transferred to Elias when the latter explained that people rub them for good luck. “Absolutely not,” Gael took a step back to solidify his stance before motioning to the statue himself. “BUT if you want to just lemme know - I already have excellent luck.” He said with an air of confidence. “Once you’re done with… those… what do you want to do first?”

“Oh, I haven’t, you really picked well!” He complimented as he turned his attention to the feet in front of him. Elias stared at the feet for a moment, but then he smelled it. “Er, maybe not.” He decided, raising his hands in the air as if surrendering. Something about the smell was offputting. Maybe someone would need all the luck they could get if they decided to rub stinky feet. “I can’t say I already have excellent luck, but maybe… maybe I’m already lucky. At least today.” He winked at Gael, nudging him playfully before walking forward to the park map. There were a lot of things he wanted to do, mostly he wanted to just learn more about the local cryptids. 

“I hope they have the fun carnival-type games.” He mused as he looked over the map, seeing where the alpine coaster was. “I’ll win you a stuffed bear or something.” He spoke with a grin. The idea of winning something at the carnival games sounded like such a money pit, but it was also one the cliches he felt needed to be done as long as he had a chance to do it. “What do I want to do first?” He wondered, looking at all the various attractions. There was the new attraction that I heard about, has cryptids that pop out. Don’t know how you do at potential jump scares.” He frowned, looking over at the coaster. “There’s also that guy!” He suggested, pointing in the alpine coaster’s direction. “I really don’t know much about the place and what it has, all I know is that it’s what childhood me would have dreamed of going to.” 

He was surprised how easy it was to be himself around Gael in the context of a date. It was strange to him, he’d only just moved here and he had already convinced someone to go on a date with him, and he hadn’t made it awkward like he was so used to doing. “I also heard there’s fried cheese on a stick from the caves I went to.” He thought for a moment, not sure if he really wanted to eat something that smelled the way it had. “Don’t know how I feel about that, honestly.” He confessed with a shrug of his shoulder.

Fortunately for Gael, Elias seemed to come to his senses, if only long enough that he wasn’t going to make Gael deal with him smelling like foot the rest of the day and he reciprocated Elias’ nudge with a grin and one of his own. The taller man’s gaze bounced between ideas and indeed, Gael found himself also curious about what all they had at their disposal. “Nothing scares me,” He insisted, his tone purposefully carrying an obnoxiously serious air to it - that wasn’t true, of course, but he certainly wasn’t about to jump out of his skin over some haunted ride. “Sometimes we have to do the things as adults that we never got to do as kids, right?” Gael was reminded of going to Universal Studios with his family a few years ago, all of them adults yet still enjoying everything though the nostalgic lens of childish perception. “Let’s do that ride with the cryptids first!” He suggested before pausing, his brow furrowing as he realized what he said. “The, uh, the one where the cryptids pop out. That is.” He added with a purposefully-awkward stammer. “And mayyyybe we should steer clear of that cheese,” He suggested, motioning with his head for Elias to follow and walk alongside him. “I’ll get you a funnel cake, how’s that?” The last thing either of them needed was to be reminded of Elias’ breakdown a little while ago where he killed an animal, regardless of whether or not it was a giant rat or a coyote.

Elias perhaps spent too long of a moment smiling back at Gael after being nudged in return than was socially acceptable before breaking himself out of the stupor. After all, Gael was kinda attractive. “Nothing, huh?” He questioned with a raise of his brow, an amused smirk on his face as he looked the man up in down in mocking question. He then tapped a finger to his lips, then shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see about that.” He then said flippantly. “Then again, I don’t know how scary you can make a ride for kids, so there may be a point to be made there.” He added on after thinking on it for a moment.

He couldn’t help but laugh and raise his brows as Gael insisted they ride the ‘cryptid one.’ After all, they were all cryptid ones. He then gave the man a fond smile as he corrected himself. “Jumping out cryptids it is!” He then declared, grabbing the professor’s hand and setting off on their journey to wait in line for however long it would take to get to the front of the line. They had come on the weekend, so there would be some downtime that would happen while waiting in line. As soon as they made it to the back of the line, Elias let go of Gael’s hand, realizing what he had done with a blush to his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t… ask.” He let out, rubbing the back of his neck with his head down. 

While Gael wasn’t expecting Elias to take his hand, he certainly didn’t say anything or protest in any way as the taller man led them excitedly to the line for what they lovingly dubbed the ‘Jumping out Cryptids’ ride. It wasn’t until they had reached their spot at the back of the line that Elias seemed to suddenly acknowledge or be brought back to reality on what happened and the man suddenly released his hand. He allowed a pause to stand between them before Gael chuckled, catching the blush on the taller mans’ face, knowing that Elias was trying to avoid eye contact but fortunately Gael was so much shorter that it was easier for him to find his eyes with a raise of his brow. “You don’t have to apologize,” He said, light in his tone and he carefully reached out to gather Elias’ hand in his again. “I don’t know if I told you this, but…” It was his turn to be a little sheepish though he didn’t avoid eye contact or look down submissively, instead keeping his head up and looking at the line before them that winded into a blackened doorway where mechanical whirring could be heard faintly on the outside. “I’m tactile.” He scoffed, holding Elias’ hand loosely in his in case the latter got uncomfortable and wanted to pull away. “My mom always told me that I was too clingy but it’s just… easier for me to learn that way. Always has been.” Gael exhaled softly. “So! You don’t have to apologize for being excited or patting my shoulder or holding my hand.” He glanced up at Elias. “I promise.”

Elias thought for a moment before responding. “You know,” he began, a grinch-like smile spreading across his face as he put his hand onto his shoulder. “It’s touching that you’d say that.” His smile turned into a beaming grin, clearly proud of himself. He let his hand drop, feeling that his pun had made its point. “If you couldn’t tell, I kind of am too.” He confessed, shrugging his shoulders. “Not to everyone, mind you. It’s only with people I consider close.” He looked over to the other, shrugging his shoulder that was closer. “I suppose that means you.”

He scratched at the back of his neck, eyes falling forward as he waited in the line, excitement dwindling a bit as he realized what he was doing. Did the professor even like him like that? Was this pity? All of the thoughts swirled in his mind before he closed his eyes, forcing the thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t think like that, not now. As they reached the front of the line, Elias wiggled his brows. “I’ve heard that there are cryptids specific to Wicked’s Rest, though I don’t know anything about them. Besides the fact that there’s Bigfeet. Makes it sound like it’s a pack of them.” He felt himself rambling again, and he quickly shut his mouth. 

“Is it normal to be nervous?” He then asked after they had gotten into their mine cart. “I mean, not the ride. Is this a pity date?” He finally asked, looking over to Gael with a serious expression. “Because if it is, I don’t want it.” He felt strongly about this. It was something that had been weighing on his mind since he was asked, but he just couldn’t get the words to work. “I mean, I like you. I don’t want it to be on your end that you just felt bad that I’m not well-versed in dates.”

Getting confirmation that Elias was also touchy-feely set a warm feeling in Gael though he puffed out his cheeks and tsk’d at the pun. “Those are supposed to be MY thing,” He teased. “But I’m glad I’m included in your list - I imagine it’s not actually that long.” He remarked mildly - what he got to know about Elias lately included that the taller man wore a mask often when he was out and while there was a lot of genuine expression in it, there was obviously a reason why he obscured his true feelings though Gael still couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was aside from ‘possibly going insane’. Then the two fell silent, Gael glancing around absently at their surroundings as they shuffled through the line - lines made him feel like a zombie sometimes. Or cattle, maybe. He did look over as Elias struck up more small talk about cryptids. “Are there?” He asked, his eyebrows raising with interest. “Wait… so there’s only one of Bigfeet? Then why’s he called that… wait, is it because he’s got two big feet?” He mused, which just led to more questions about what other strange names people might’ve come up with for the local cryptids. He bet they had nothing on the Moth Man. More silence, which Gael realized he didn’t mind - he had multiple ways of enjoying the company of others, including being in close proximity to him though he made sure to give Elias little looks with a smile now and then. However, as they got into the little car fashioned after a minecart for the ride, Elias suddenly turned to him and firstly asked about being nervous. Before the other man could answer, the taller man followed up with the question he’d received multiple times throughout his life: ‘Was this a pity date?’ “...Why would I bring you on a date out of pity?” Gael found himself asking first - over the years, he’d grown either accustomed or tired of the question; he was many things and extended empathy where he could, sympathy for the rest and ‘pity’ wasn’t something he wasted his time with. He didn’t like feeling sorry for someone, he felt sorry with them and wanted to create solutions to perceived problems. “If I didn’t want to bring you, I would’ve just given you pointers on how to date someone else.” He explained, keeping his tone even though he raised his voice as they were tugged along into the open mouth of the ride. “Why, do you think this is a pity date? Do you want to go home?” 

Elias thought for a long moment on why he thought it was out of pity. He had spent a lot of his life having people do things out of pity with him. After all, he was the weird cryptid kid that no one wanted to be around. Suddenly, he was in high school again being made fun of. No, he couldn’t let that part of him win out. Here he was, ruining everything because of a stupid insecurity. He sighed, looking to the strange looking sea monster that popped up. “I supposed because that’s what I’m used to. I apologize for letting my own insecurity ruin things.” He spoke honestly, looking back over to the professor, then over his shoulder at a very real looking cryptid. It was a large clam-looking thing, it’s maw opening as they rode past. “Does that look real to you…” he spoke, voice trailing off when the ride suddenly picked up in speed. 

Elias, still confused, turned his head to look at the thing with an incredulous expression. “Huh.” He let out, trying to get back to what they were talking about. Oh right, that deep hole he’d dug himself into. Right. “Anyway I. Yeah, I understand if you’d rather leave, but. I’m sorry I said anything.” He wanted to bury his head into the earth, he felt so embarrassed. He didn’t want to keep talking, that only seemed to make things worse. Good job, man. You blew it with one of the hot people in this town. He couldn’t help but think to himself. As soon as the ride ended and they exited the car, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed of himself. “I let my own insecurities get the better of me.” He confessed, looking the other in the eyes. “And for that I’m truly sorry.”

He listened to the sounds of people screaming on a ride, the sounds of families laughing with each other as they passed. He should let himself have fun for once. “I’m grateful that you brought me here.” Elias spoke, attempting to lighten the mood with the park once again, unsure if it would land well. He looked around, seeing one of those test your strength game with the comically oversized mallet. “I bet you could hit the bell.” He offered, pointing in the direction of the carnival game. It was a weak attempt at patching things over, but an attempt all the same.

Of course Elias didn’t need to apologize, even if Gael sort of wished they weren’t on some phony jump-scare tugalong ride when the other man decided to bear his soul. The professor did understand Elias’ hesitation - the man hadn’t been there for long, neither of them had, and going by what else Gael had learned about him, it was that he purposefully didn’t put himself out there when it came to intimacy though he also figured that the mask he used came with its own set of problems. Gael didn’t have those problems, he never did; he tried to wear his emotions on his sleeve and he felt genuinely and broadly. It got him into trouble, for sure, but it wasn’t ever something insurmountable. He wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about this, comparing himself to Elias’ struggle, to the struggle a lot of people faced. He was a lot of people’s ‘first’ boyfriend, all the girls who didn’t know what they wanted or what to do and after a while he felt less of a partner and more of a teacher. Maybe he WAS on this date with Elias out of pity, even if he didn’t want to admit it. And he didn’t think that was the case - he gelled well with Elias. The two of them had a lot in common, yet not too much to negatively impact a relationship. Gael glanced around at the fake scares, the superficial fear that didn’t manage to push through his thoughts though some of them DID look more realistic than he initially surmised… and one or two of them smelled, too. He didn’t envy whoever was in their costumes. Soon enough, the ride was over and the duo stepped off to go find another activity. “I bet you can hit that bell.” Gael chimed in after a pause, having looked up at Elias earnestly as the latter apologized again. “I think you’re thinking way too much,” He added, crossing his arms loosely and holding a hand up. “You apologized thrice and mentioned insecurity twice.” He quirked one of his eyebrows before giving Elias a look and taking his hand again, not asking. “The only pity I’ll spare you is if you DON’T manage to hit that bell.” He laughed. “It’s okay to be nervous.” Gael’s expression softened. “And it’s okay to have insecurities. All I can do is help assuage them by assuring you that I’m here with you in this weird amusement park because I like you and I want you to be happy and have fun.” 

Shoving his embarrassment aside, he nodded his head, a soft smile appearing on his face. “Turning off my monkey brain,” he spoke, making a locking motion to his lips. “For as smart as I am, I’m kinda dumb.” He joked, knocking on his skull for emphasis. “It echoes sometimes, you know.” He added with a nod of his head, making his way over to the game. “Well I hope that it’s scaled down because if I recall correctly, you called me a beanpole.” He spoke with a scoff. As they continued to walk, he felt a sort of relief, as if he was allowed to be himself for once. He couldn’t help but mentally chastise himself for it, of course he could be himself around Gael, of all people.

“Uh, you first.” He insisted, gesturing toward the oversized mallet in front of them, the game attendant standing there with a smile on their face, just like they were paid to do. He felt weird, he hadn’t felt this way towards anyone in a while, but he also hadn’t met someone that he clicked so well with before either. And he listened to his cryptid facts? This guy was a catch for sure. He rifled a hand through his hair, letting his nervous energy go to finally allow himself to enjoy the park. Maybe the ride they just went on was cursed now, but it would be okay. “If I lose, at least I don’t go first.” He then added on, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet.

It was a strange feeling, letting himself just be in the moment. But it was a good feeling. He could be just like the excited groups that were walking around the park, he could let himself just feel happy. It was a foreign concept he hadn’t felt in a few years. Perhaps he was still letting the fog of his former life lift from him. But he couldn’t help but think at least it was finally lifting. It was no secret that Elias let himself feel things a bit too deeply. But he was having fun, and dammit, he had moved here to start over. And it was about time he finally did just that.

“You are a beanpole,” Gael couldn’t keep the smile off his face as Elias seemed to loosen up, or at least give that impression. Life was too short to stress about every little thing. He never did that and he had hoped that he didn’t give other people the idea that they couldn’t be themselves or that he was faking doing something just to make them feel better. Not that it was any of his business to say so and he certainly wouldn’t say it aloud but Gael meant the things he said and did; he found it much easier than putting on a mask of his own. At least in most regards. The animal attack and subsequent brain injury weren’t important, not important enough to draw attention to. Gael didn’t consider that a mask - rather, no one seemed to ask and it wasn’t as though he explicitly hid it from others when they did. That wasn’t what today was about, however, as he was led to the Strength game. “Okay, I’ll go first,” He nodded with confidence as his dark eyes glanced up - it wasn’t that big, not compared to the ones back home. Or maybe the ones back home just seemed huge because he was very small back then. The mallet wasn’t that heavy either but he remembered that these machines were strange in their operation sometimes - it was a manner of how you hit the target, where, the amount of weight on it. “Yeah, you have a point there.” Gael shrugged and gave Elias a clever look, moving past the conversation they had as though it wasn’t about anything worth ruminating over - that’s how he worked. If someone wanted to dwell, he’d dwell with them and he couldn’t keep himself from thinking about things sometimes but he also respected a healthy conversation and the ability to move past it. After a pause and some head tilting as he thought about the angles, the perceived weight of the meter and the weight distribution of the mallet, Gael stood at a peculiar angle himself, placed his legs a small distance apart and he brought the hammer down with justice. The little apparatus climbed and gently dinged the silver cowbell at the top - he just realized that this test your strength game was themed after a cow of some sort. In any case, soft as it was, he hit that bell and he rested the mallet on the paddle with a victorious smile, glancing up at Elias. “Physics!”

Admittedly, Elias couldn’t help but be a little won over by the professor’s use of physics to hit the bell. Judging by the age demographic of the people that frequented the park, he was willing to make his own judgement call. “Physics!” He exclaimed in return, taking Gael’s spot at the game and just whacked it as hard as he could. The apparatus went up and hit the bell with ease. “Children’s game!” He exclaimed with a wide smile. “Beanpole my ass.” He spoke with a point of his finger in the other man’s direction. “See? I can do strength things too. Like winning a test your strength game.” He spoke as he put the mallet down for the next person to take their shot with and walked back over to Gael’s side. 

“Do you remember that game where you’d shoot the water at the target to make the object go up and you’d win a prize?” He then asked, feeling fond memories of his own time at amusement parks as a child. He grinned. “I’m gonna try and win you a prize.” Elias vowed, looking around for what they could do next. “I haven’t been on a roller coaster since I was a kid. Hell, I haven’t been to an amusement park since I was a kid.” Elias then said, memories of cotton candy and overly expensive games circling around in his mind. 

It was then that he spotted Bigfeet himself, the costume left a lot to be desired, if he was going to be honest with himself. “That’s horrifying,” Elias whispered to Gael as he leaned into his personal space conspiratorially. “As much as I love cryptids, I hate mascot costumes.” He admitted to the other man with a serious nod of his head. “When my parents took my brother and I to Disney World, I cried at the sight of Pluto.” He thought back to the memory of the terrifying bipedal dog. “Something about it not being on four legs really freaked me out.” He couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the memory. 

Shaking his head out of the memories, he began to scan the park again. “So, what do you want to do next?” He asked, doing his best to ignore how his heart picked up in pace whenever he looked at Gael. He had to get over himself. Or maybe not? No, he couldn’t let himself think about that. After all, he had to live with the guy. If the feelings weren’t mutual, wouldn’t that be awkward for the both of them. Not wanting to seem too excitable, he ran a hand through his hair, biting down on his lip as he awaited Gael’s response.

“Psht, you won that one because you copied my homework, nerd,” Gael stuck his tongue out playfully though he still gave him a congratulatory applause for his success. The duo walked slowly, leisurely, and while Elias suggested thing after thing, each idea entering the slots in Gael’s brain as the latter wanted to view a map to better spend their time even if that was partially antithetical to their date, which was the two of them together going at their own pace. They were there to have fun, not go according to a schedule. Gael was pulled out of those thoughts, glancing from his own memories of water balloon-filling machines and coasters, which he ALSO hadn’t been on in years when Elias leaned into him and pointed out a guy in a mascot costume that hovered over a group of children in what he guessed was supposed to be friendly. He didn’t doubt the man on the inside was but from the outside, he silently agreed with Elias’ sentiments that mascot costumes were freaky. “What to do next, ey?” Gael glanced around mildly though his eyes kept drifting to the roller coaster. It HAD been a long time and he WAS seeking an actual ride after the disappointment of the ‘haunted cart’ ride… “The coaster?” He asked, looking at Elias and jerking his head towards the ride.Elias gave a fake pout to Gael as he was called a nerd. He was one to talk! “Though it takes one to know one, now doesn’t it?” He countered as he walked back over to his date, nudging into him lightly before they kept walking. There was something calming in the chaos of everything around them. He thrived off of the energy of others, from the excitable children running past to the adults that walked around enjoying the other’s company. Something about the summer heat and the people around him all enjoying themselves energized him, as it always had. 

“Coaster it is!” Elias replied, making his way to the line for the coaster. More waiting. While he was usually patient, the nervous energy that raced through him wasn’t helping. He let his weight bounce from foot to foot, wracking his brain for something to say to fill the silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but he enjoyed Gael’s presence. “So what do you do when school is out for the semester?” He asked, genuinely curious to learn more about the professor’s work. After all, it was no joke to be one. He had to really know his stuff. Elias could talk endlessly about his own passions, but he wanted to know more about him.

They went to wait in line for the Alpine Coaster (at least Gael thought that’s what it was called) and while he was again content to stand in the atmosphere of their surroundings, he figured Elias was up in his own head again. He only hoped that this time it wasn’t an assumption that he was just doing this out of pity again - he wondered how many accusations like that would’ve been enough to sour HIS mood. It didn’t happen often, really only impacting his temper those days around and after his… excursions. Brain injury. “Well, fortunately in the summer I don’t teach nearly as many classes,” Gael replied, tapping his chin absently as he looked up at Elias. “But when I’m not there, I’m doing whatever I want!” At this, he did a little… vague… dance sort of movement that involved bopping his shoulders and bending his knees slightly. “... So by that I mean I have time to go out and spend it with friends.” He straightened up and cleared his throat. “I heard that YOU had another job lined up - Dr. Kavanagh asked me about you. Gonna work at the morgue, eh?”

“What classes do you teach, exactly?” Elias wondered with a tilt of his head. “If you teach inorganic chemistry I bow down to you.” Elias held his hands up like he revered the other. “That’s a pretty good line up you got. I thought about teaching, but I just don’t think I’d be able to handle the pressure that you all are under. At least with being a professor, the kids want to be there.” He then frowned at the mention of Dr. Kavanagh. Speaking of pity… “Oh, yeah. The whole interaction was kind of strange, admittedly.” He ran a hand through his hair, thinking back on how he had met the woman. 

“She kept warning me to be weary of the people I worked for, then offered to interview me once she realized what I used to do.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And honestly, I left because of burnout, you know? I’m just trying to live my life for a bit as I figure out plan B. Is working for a bar really that bad?” He frowned, thinking back to Regan. “She’s interesting. And I have medical experience to some degree. I don’t mind working with the dead, I loved the cadaver labs back in college.” He explained further. “I used to be premed before I decided it was a money pit.” 

As they finally neared the front of the line, Elias looked up to the coaster. He hadn’t been on one of those since he was a kid. Hopefully the wooden ones held up. He listened to the elated screams of the riders that zoomed past them, smiling to himself. “I suppose maybe this could be a good fit. Not exactly engineering, but whatever.” He kept his smile, he was having a good time, even if it was spent waiting in lines and nearly making an ass out of himself. “Thanks for taking me here, by the way.” Elias murmured to Gael. “A good place, all things considered. I’m not used to people indulging in my interests the way you have.”

“Oh, just general chemistry - I specialize in physical chemistry though since I also went to school for physics.” Gael replied and gave a small nod. “And yeah, honestly. That’s why I decided to be a professor too… less uh… less to worry about. There’s a BUNCH of rules and stipulations and conditions and that just sounded a little too demanding, even for me.” The shorter man tilted his head slightly, catching Elias’ frown and listened to the taller man as he talked about the interview, Dr. Kavanagh’s warnings about the bar, the reminder about why Elias was where he was… Gael recalled their first conversation about schooling and college and he didn’t ask further at the time because it wasn’t his business once Elias affirmed that he was okay doing his own thing. “Well….” He also glanced up at the old attraction. “I’d just like for you to be happy.” He gave the taller man an earnest expression. “And it’s no problem, amigo,” He murmured back, looking mischievous with a small smile on his face. “Interests, hobbies, passions, these are all the things we’re supposed to nurture about each other and I love hearing about them.” Gael climbed into the other side of the car and leaned back, waiting for the bar to become adjusted according to Elias’ considerably longer legs. “And I mean, just between you and me, I kinda like you too.” He nudged the other man’s side playfully. 

Elias had already been impressed when Gael had told him he was a chemistry professor. He found himself even more impressed that the guy also studied physics. “I commend you,” he spoke with a serious expression and nod of his head. “Physics and chemistry? That’s some serious education.” He thought back to his own college experience, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. 

It meant a lot to Elias when the man had said he just wanted him to be happy. He’d spent so many sleepless nights about how he would be perceived by others, at how it looked for him to be working a nothing job when his education demanded more of him. “Well who knows, maybe the morgue gig will be just the thing for me. I get to do medical work like I originally wanted to do.” He shrugged a shoulder, ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind telling him to act. 

Elias’s smile only grew as the professor spoke of enjoying hearing about other people’s interests. It was one of the things that he liked so much about him, because he was the same way. “I like the way people light up when they talk about their interests.” He agreed with the nod of his head as they climbed into the car. He frowned as he realized how long he was as he sat in the low-seated car. It was almost comical. But then, he was completely thrown off guard by what Gael had just said to him. He turned to look at the man, his eyes comically large. He opened his mouth to reply, but the car took off, zooming to its first ascent. 

Click, click, click! The car went as it climbed to the top of the first peak. The clicks echoed in his mind, his nerves swelled with each click, but then he smiled, turning to look at Gael with a brilliant smile, and then, whoosh went the car as it turned to a rapid descent. His gaze darted forward again, eyes wide as he held onto the bar that kept them in place. The rickety coaster was making him feel a little uneasy, afraid the thing would come apart at any second. He didn’t want to make it known, so he just clenched his teeth and kept his gaze flitted forward, looking up at the next hill that loomed ahead.

“You’re so tall,” Gael teased as they adjusted the bar around the other man’s gangly legs, not wanting him to be uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how comfortable HE was, however, as they were pulled along up around the bend and up the first hill. Was this a bad idea? He didn’t know how much he himself trusted wooden roller coasters, especially in a strange town like this but he pushed the negativity out of his mind. With an exchange of two enthusiastic, if nervous glances, they were over the first hill and the rest of the ride all but flitted in Gael’s mind as the professor clenched the bar with impossibly tight fists, hearing the roar of the old wooden contraption and feeling his stomach seem to float openly in his abdomen with each hill, each jerky turn on the rails and abrupt stop as they were yoinked around. Gael didn’t speak, scream, or even seem to breathe until they were off the ride where he exhaled loudly, blinking in bewilderment as he clutched one of Elias’ arms for support. “Wow! That was… ooh, it’s been a while since I’ve been on one of those,” He admitted, glancing up and giving the taller man a smile before a look crossed his features and he placed his other hand to his stomach. “Aaand I need a trash can.”

Roller coasters weren’t what they used to be, as it turned out. While as a child, Elias used to love the adrenaline rush, there was something about a wooden coaster that was rather rickety. He started feeling dizzy by the time the ride was over, and man was he glad when it ended. As he got out, he had to stare at something that wasn’t in motion for a minute before he started to feel like himself again. 

He couldn’t help but laugh after they had walked away from the ride, only to have Gael grab his arm, to which Elias turned to look at him. “Dizzy, huh?” He guessed, seeing as how he had just dealt with it himself. “I don’t think we’re built for those rides like we used to be as kids.” He decided aloud, shaking his head. He then frowned as the professor proclaimed his need for a trash can, and quickly whipped his head around to find one. Once he spotted one thankfully not too far away, he guided the poor guy toward the trash can and patted him on the back. “Let it out, buddy.” He commented before taking a step behind him, not wanting to get in the splash zone, as it were.

Elias thought for a long moment about something they could do to perhaps calm down. After the disaster that was the cryptid ride and now the roller coaster, he couldn’t help but feel like this was starting to turn out like a total failure. Still, he had been having fun after his own blunder. “You want to sit down?” He asked with a sympathetic expression, head tilted to one side. There was a bench beside the trash can, and a ferris wheel not too far off. “There’s a ferris wheel too, if you want something to do.” He suggested. 

It was a good thing Gael wasn’t too proud to show weakness as Elias led him to a nearby trash can otherwise he’d feel foolish right about now. “You’re telling me,” He forced a laugh between heaves. “Sorry, sometimes I forget how old I am.” Heaving a few exhales and pulling out a small pack of tissues to clean up his face, he leaned away from the trash can and his brown eyes danced on the bench that was near them before he turned to find the ferris wheel, the giant machine that seemed to be the centerpiece of any ‘first date’. “Ooh, yeah!” Gael said enthusiastically, placing a hand on his stomach as though trying to finish settling it as he kept his eyes on the attraction. Moving a little slower than before they got onto the wooden coaster though with his usual enthusiasm, he took Elias’ hand and looked sideways at him as he tugged the taller man along to the ride, which had a much shorter line thankfully. “Have you been on a ferris wheel before?” He asked curiously, looking up at Elias. “This is the biggest one I think I’ll have been on but I know for a fact that it won’t screw my stomach up.” He laughed, trying to push past his own embarrassment for how foolish he must’ve looked as he bent over a trash can after riding what was probably considered a ‘mediocre’ roller coaster at best.

Elias frowned as Gael let out whatever was left in his stomach, he wanted to console him, but at the same time he didn’t want to get too close. After a few moments, the professor was attempting to act like his normal self, to which he was a bit grateful. Then, he was taken by the hand and found himself in line for the ferris wheel. It was strange, holding someone’s hand. It was intimate experience that he hadn’t had much of, but he found that with Gael, it was easy to overcome the awkwardness. So, he found himself squeezing back into the hand hold. 

“Oh, once or twice,” he responded with a nod of his head. “I grew up in San Diego, so I’ve seen a few.” He explained with a shrug of his shoulder. “Are you going to be alright?” He then asked, worry melting over his face at the mention of Gael’s stomach. “I mean, if you want to leave I totally understand.” He tried to reason, afraid that the man was pushing himself too hard for Elias’s sake.

After a brief moment of waiting, they were getting into the ride and taking off into the air. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood. He found that when he opened his mouth when he liked someone, nonsense spewed out. So he was silent for a moment, noticing that their hands were still clasped together. He stared out the side, looking as the people on the ground got smaller the higher up they went. There was something peaceful about it. “Despite the hiccups, I’ve enjoyed the day.” He then spoke, turning to look at Gael.

“Nah, it’ll be fine,” Gael encouraged, already feeling better though now he also felt hunger gnawing on his empty stomach. The two stood in the short line and soon enough they were both in the two-person car. Notably, he didn’t let go of Elias’ hand this time, feeling his warmth, feeling their palms against each other. The two were silent as they ascended, Gael himself feeling decidedly more at peace on the slow, much steadier ride. He took this opportunity to look out again over the town and for a moment, he felt very similarly to how he had the day that Monty took him on the trail with the view. Everyone looked small, but the town itself seemed massive. Granted, he couldn’t see as much as then but the feeling that fluttered through his extremities… He inhaled deeply as the creases that tugged on the corners of his eyes in a smile formed his face. Then Elias spoke up and Gael slowly looked over at the taller man, keeping the smile on his angled jaw. “I’m so glad,” He replied softly and for a moment, he seemed to hesitate on something that lingered in the frontal lobe of his brain. His eyes danced on Elias’ face and he inhaled as though about to say something but he nothing came out. Instead, he lifted their hands, turned them so that Elias’ was facing him and he glanced down at it before lowering his head and kissing the back. “Thank you for coming with me today,” He said quietly.

As the kiss was pressed to the back of his hand, his brain short-circuited. He was suddenly so nervous and over the moon at the same time. He wanted to do something, say something, but the words didn’t work. Instead, his face lit up into a soft, almost private smile. “I would absolutely do it again. Maybe somewhere different next time, less wild rides.” He spoke, voice quiet, but had a delighted tone to it. 

Suddenly, they were at the highest point of the ferris wheel, and he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he simply leaned back into the seat and let out a sigh. Then, he decided to be bold. He leaned in forward and pressed his lips to Gael’s. It was brief, and before he could realize what he had done, he had pulled away. Feeling his awkwardness rise up from the depths, he felt an overwhelming need to say something else. Anything else.

“Maybe something more intimate, like dinner.” It was a bold move, and it reminded him back to the last time he had been on a date. Her name was Sarah. It was back when he had first started his job back when he was in his early twenties. They had worked in the same space and they had worked, until they hadn’t. But he didn’t want to think about her right now. It felt like butterflies, allowing himself to be this close to someone again.  Another soft smile was exchanged with the taller man, more walls that weren’t erected with Gael managing to lower themselves. He was no stranger to making his emotions known and even when he was in this one-on-one situation, which he was sure was nerve-wracking to people with higher levels of anxiety, he was comfortable. Being around Elias was comfortable, a selfish little piece that he knew Elias had shown him that he wanted to keep for himself - he had one with Monty, he had one with Elias and he felt very thankful for these pieces of others he was given to fawn over. To fawn over them, priceless treasures in his mind.

While he was content with the kiss on Elias’ hand, a small display of intimacy he wasn’t sure and didn’t ask for permission for, Gael wasn’t expecting the other man’s lips to brush against his in a brief but still lovely and surprising kiss. He blinked at the kiss but he didn’t flinch away or even react until Elias pulled away, feeling his head following the sensation slightly before he went back to looking ahead; he wasn’t embarrassed at all but he was sure Elias might’ve been reeling inside with his spontaneity so he instead didn’t gawk, squeezing the taller man’s hand gently with affirmation.

“We can do dinner next time,” Gael breathed, looking out over the view again and trying to settle down the new little butterflies that fluttered in his heart.

[ironheartedfae]

Timing: Early August Location: Wicked's Rest State Park Feat: @lithium-argon-wo-l-f & @ironheartedfae Warnings: The Ren Starterpack: Mentions of ( child abuse tw, child neglect tw) Summary: Ren and Gael have a little picnic and talk about Ren's past.

Beyond the last rows of houses, past the outskirts. Out far past where the trails ended, where the only human structures were fire watch stations and the occasional radio tower jutting high above the canopy. Beauty could be found at every turn. Nature in all its splendor. A perfect place to pick flowers, far enough that no humans would cross their paths, and no nosy cu-sith would come sniffing around. Hopefully. Ren didn't know what she might do if the creature tried to hurt Gael. The thought alone gripped her by the heart and shook like a mangy dog gnawing on a bone. 

At the same time, somehow she couldn't imagine the beast doing something so… beastly. It was calm when Emilio found her at the dump. It wasn't even that aggressive the first time they met. She was mostly just…protective. Ren didn't understand why, but she knew what it looked like. 

The walk out had been mostly quiet. Not awkwardly or anything like that. Each of them pointing out various flora and fauna along their hike. Mostly her, but not just. Every once in a while Ren would get so excited she'd grab tight onto the man's hand and rush him over to see some bug she happened to spy. Or to quiet enough that they could listen to a bird call, one she'd spend ages debating with herself which specific species it might be. 

Ren found herself lost in the journey. Found that she hadn't even thought of the reasons for coming out this far. Only thinking of the bright warm sunlight, of the way getting to walk alongside Gael through the overgrown woods made her feel like she was a kid. A real kid. For the first time. Arriving at the flower filled valley was a treat, not an end. The picnic they'd packed was another. Ren had practically dove into the tall grass after a particularly fat cricket as Gael set up the big blanket. She was far more exuberant than she'd ever been. And she didn't want any of it to stop. 

"Look! Gryllus campestris! This is the biggest one I have ever seen!" 

—

Each conversation was progress, each exchange, each gentle affirmation and long-winded explanation Gael had with the girl who was fae and yet more human than she wanted to admit. More human than she was raised to believe. He’d never met Darya but as they took their leisurely walk, his cardio having improved since he started going on hikes and she would touch him with excitement or a childish enthusiasm when she pointed out a plant she was fond of or an insect she told him the scientific name of, he came to a more cemented conclusion that he didn’t like her, not at all. He tried not to think about it though; it wasn’t healthy for either of them to compare what they were doing to what would’ve happened if it was Darya instead of him. Instead, Gael held onto each time she took his hand to show him anything, each time she cast him a bright-eyed look with her emerald eyes, seeing youth radiating from her. Now and then, with increasing frequency, he would forget that this was the same girl that he met in the soft rains that day, wide-eyed, afraid, not talking or moving too much out of the very recognized fear that she would be punished for what, he still couldn’t figure out; he lacked the capacity to understand why someone would abuse a child. They hadn’t seen the dog yet. Gael figured it wouldn’t be that difficult to see as it was the size of a cow but he wasn’t questioning not having seen it as he himself was caught in the moments they spent dappled by the sun through the trees, hearing the breeze rustling the leaves and their curly hair, absently whistling in response to a bird he heard that he was sure she’d know the name of if she could find it. The flower field, as they got to it, was expansive and colored with so many colors he wasn’t sure if he could list them all. It was unusual but no one was about to catch him complaining. As Ren’s attention was captured by another insect, Gael set up the blanket carefully, picking a particularly grassy patch where the flowers were more sparse and once it was spread to his satisfaction, he had just set down the large picnic basket he’d packed for them (with her suggestions and input, of course) when she called to him and he turned his head to regard her. “Really? Here, lemme see.” He knelt near her and craned his neck to get a good look at the thing, which looked to be a cricket of some sort. “You weren’t kidding! That’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen, too!” He remarked, taken aback by how large the specimen was.

—

Dazzled as she was by the spectacle all around her, Ren was far too absorbed in her activities to care that she was smiling like a fool. That she was acting like the person she always feared she couldn’t be. If the young fae had realized, she might have shied away. Might have tried her best to reconstruct those walls because everything outside of them was so foreign. So unknown. There was danger in lending your heart to another, but Ren was trying her best to ignore it. Hope was the word of the day. Belief in the man she’d come to know, and the day she wanted to give him. 

So much stress had been passing through their house. Ren knew not all of it was from her, but it was hard to shake that notion. A day out in the woods, picking flowers for their experiment, having a picnic while they talked about matters too heavy to type out online… maybe it was what they both needed. 

“She must be very good at her job.” The red head nodded, holding the cricket carefully in the palm of her hands. She eyed it this way and that, making a perfect mental note before gently letting the critter go. “This place is good for the bugs, I think. Lots of nutrients for everyone.” A softer smile graced the nymph’s lips. If she was meant to have a biome or something of the sort, this would be it. Hell, they could probably find a few actual praying mantises amongst the grass and flowers if they tried. Ren could show off how they legitimately listened to her command. But for the time being, she left them all to their own devices. 

Scooting back until she was on the blanket, Ren picked a sandwich from the basket. One of the ones she’d made. With cucumbers and salami and just a little bit of cheese. Even though it was red meat, it was still one of her favorites. And having a slice or two every once in a while couldn’t be that bad, could it? It wasn’t like her stomach was the pinnacle of perfection any day. Ren began nibbling at the corners. Systematically removing the crusts first, so the better tasting part of the sandwich would come last. “I am glad we are…” A few seconds into speaking she realized a bit too much food was in her mouth. That wasn’t exactly one of the manners she was taught, but it did make it harder all the same, so she swallowed before continuing. “I am glad we could do this today. It is so lovely out. Not even too hot, or too cold. Right in the middle for both of us.” 

— 

The cricket was in her hands and a smile was on her face, bright, shining more than he’d ever seen her and Gael had to keep himself from letting his gaze linger too long on her lest she think there was something wrong with her. Nothing was wrong with her. She’d protest if he said that, he was sure she would. All the discussion they had about how she was a monster, how she was raised to hate the thing that she was, not being given anything and having to lastingly earn the things that she shouldn’t have had to. Color was returning to her dappled skin, her hair was growing out a little bit. Her cheeks seemed less hollow, her expression replacing emotionally distant with curious. It wasn’t perfect, of course it wasn’t - she still spent most of her time in her room and had a tendency to sneak out when she thought Gael couldn’t hear her, which he wouldn’t have if he wasn’t given a few perks in exchange for the injury. She still bore the marks of her abuse, and that was something he would need to navigate. He had faith in her, however, just as he had faith that he himself would be able to help - or at least be better than Darya. Give Ren something she needed, which was to smile and chase bugs in the grass. Gael adjusted himself on the blanket as she did, close to her but not too close, and waited until she picked out one of the sandwiches she’d made as he observed before he pulled one of his own out. She could keep her cucumbers and salami, he was a ham-and-cheese person all day though he did spare himself a pulled pork sandwich that was nicely nestled at the bottom. He snapped to her attention when she started speaking through her mouthful of food, which was difficult to parse but at least she had stopped to swallow. He wasn’t about to get onto her for it. “I’m really glad we could, too.” Gael smiled through his own bite of sandwich. “The sun feels good, the breeze feels good, the air smells pleasant.” He looked over at her, his expression soft. “This is how it’s supposed to be. This is what happiness feels like.” Even if they weren’t going to take any of the flowers home for the science project he had told her about, this was still very healthy for her. It was healthy for him, too, when he thought about it - it had been a while since he was out in nature and he didn’t feel like he was losing his mind. He reached into the basket and pulled out one of two thermoses, unscrewing the lid and pouring some apple juice into it. “Here, try this.” Gael said, offering the lid-turned-cup to the girl. “If you don’t like it, I have water for you.”

—

Something about warm sunlight on a cool enough day was magical. Finding a spot amongst the flowers with such a lovely view was magical. Bright blue skies (like Gael's favorite color) blanketing over sprawling green fields (dotted of course with Ren's) were magical too. But these were the world's mundane magic. The kind that was anomalous only in that most people did not make time to seek them out. Normal people worried about their jobs. About traffic. What they were going to have to grab from the grocery store for dinner each night. Who liked what clothes, holidays, coffee, that sort of thing. Ren had never those luxuries, nor those burdens.She didn't have much of anything.

But now she had this. 

Soft eyes gazed upon her and she didn't feel the need to hide away. Not anymore. Ren didn't feel like her disguise was slipping and every flaw would be noticed if she made the wrong move. Gael had seen her at what she assumed to be her worst. At that moment he welcomed her closer. Reminded her of her humanity. Her personhood. Hugged her close and let her cry. If she could do that in front of him, what was a smile? What was a laugh? What was learning and experiencing joy? 

Ren tried the emotions on like normal girls tried on clothes. Finding that they could exist for something more than utility. More than her mission. That there could be in betweens. Her latest letter back to Darya had been sitting on the small desk for almost two days now. Her reports had slowed since the vodnik attack. Ren found herself extrapolating on older files rather than drumming up new targets. She could always find another detail she managed to overlook, find some new context to it. She didn't always have the time to chase new leads. Not while learning to interact with the world around her, not while getting to know the people that inhabited it. 

A fuzzy warmth filled Ren's chest to bursting. Gael went on about happiness and how life was supposed to be, and she couldn't agree more. Even when that very thought drew out a nasty kick of guilt. A small pain that wilted her into the sandwich. Into the thermos with the strange liquid inside. Ren took the moment of examination to sit in her feelings. To try and not let it show. They were having such a good time, she didn't want to stop that now. Not yet. They had plenty of things to speak on, but first. The picnic. 

Ren sipped, and promptly sipped again mere moments after the sweet juice had finished coating her tongue. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in wonder and delight as this nectar danced across her senses. The moment of doubt and dissociation was gone in a gulp. The young nymph's attention shot back up at the professor with a wildly shocked look. "It is so good! D-Does everyone know of this?"

—

He thought she might like it. He didn’t know how much though and for a moment the thought occurred to Gael that she’d probably never been given things to eat or drink that were ‘fun’; why give the kid juice as a treat or something tasty to drink while she was training vigorously? He assumed there were no exciting days for her to explore at her leisure, no instance in which she enthusiastically showed Darya a big cricket she found and was met with a smile and a level of humility that she’d also never seen one that size. She wasn’t encouraged to express herself, her interests. Everything seemed to be streamlined; if her skills could be utilized and deployed in the context of her job, then they were allowed to stay but not as things she enjoyed Gael was being presumptuous. He found himself frustrated internally at his inability to just focus on today. So in response to her sudden buzzing, he couldn’t help but laugh, both at the reaction and in an attempt to dismiss the comparisons, the negative thoughts, the idea that he needed to be better than anyone else. He just needed to be there with her. For her. “A lot of people do, yeah! It’s called ‘apple juice’ and it uses, well, juice from apples.” That wasn’t entirely accurate but he didn’t want to ruin the good feelings. “It’s a popular drink, welcome to the club!” Quirking one of his thick eyebrows, he held the thermos up to indicate that the juice was in that one before carefully setting it into the basket securely so it wouldn’t get knocked over. “You can have as much as you want, it’s for you. I just ask that you don’t drink it all at once.” He suggested; she might’ve had a mismatched mental age to accompany her body’s age, and even then he was thinking in human terms and not fae terms but he knew that she understood a simple form of ‘moderation’, even if the word itself was unnecessarily long. He didn’t want to baby her. Contrary to how people tended to treat the young adults around Wicked’s Rest, Gael was cognizant of her human age and wanted to respect her ability to make her own choices; he could ask that she not drink it but she could make her own decisions. It was an interesting line that changed with every 19-20-something year old he encountered. He made mistakes, of course he did but it was all he could do to try to fix those mistakes so they didn’t happen again. He first met Ren as she fiercely stabbed a vodnik to death; she was childlike but she wasn’t a child. The professor thought maybe he still got those two mixed up, try as he might not to. Opening up the other thermos, Gael poured himself some water from it and was content to sip it while she enjoyed the juice. Leaning back, feeling the rays of the sun on his curly-haired head, he wondered briefly how he should broach the topic of feelings. While she was on the high of apple juice, another small wonder that she’d never been given? Should he wait until she calmed down a little bit? This was new territory for him, admittedly. So instead of saying anything at first, he simply took another sip of water and looked around their peaceful environment. “You’re right, it’s the perfect day.”

—

A perfect day for trying new things. For opening up and allowing herself to at least pretend to be just a normal kid for once. Ren was cautious. She always was. It’s hard to say if it was just a fact of her nature, or (like many other facets of her personality) grafted into her. A foundation built, brick by brick. Not of clay or terracotta, but of extensive labors, hard won lessons, and (debatable) truths about the world around her. Each carefully laid by one who sought to make her into something perfect. Or at least their vision of it. 

Ren would be strong. Stronger than the warden children from the compound. Ren would be fast. Ren would be able to sense out the fae and move among them undetected. Welcomed even. Ren would send out field reports back to the compound, let them decide her actions and then she would just as dutifully carry them out. Ren would have no trouble killing her own kind. 

Except she did. 

Wardens believed the fae to all be monsters. If they didn’t, their jobs would have far too much nuance to keep on how they’d been trained for centuries. Maybe Darya truly thought she was starting with a blank slate. Maybe she just assumed there would be nothing on the canvas she painted into a soldier. Beneath the layers of blood stained strokes, there was a person. One with not one, but two mother wounds. The family she’d been told left her, and the one she was learning did not love her in the way they could have. Only in the presence of something real did the facsimile lose its luster.

What Darya had shown Ren was not love. It was a shadow on a wall. Scaring away thoughts of rebellion. It was the monster and the hero. It was all just stories that she was told were caring. She inferred that it was love, because she had to. Because that’s what kids want. That’s what they all need. Every time the older woman came in and Ren did everything in her power to earn those few moments of contact, she was searching for it. A brief shoulder touch, a rustling on her head, a pleasant nod… she was chasing love. 

Begging for it. 

Here, among the wildflowers, sun shining like a warm blanket… Ren didn’t need to plead for something she’d never really had. Gael gave so freely, so openly. She felt almost guilty at earning it as quickly as she had. Felt a lot of things she couldn’t really explain. Like the very sudden inclination that she wanted to let herself be closer. After finishing her sandwich and delicious juice, she scooted over. Tentatively, the redhead leaned, allowing her head to come to rest on Gael’s shoulder. 

“Should– Should we start?” She didn't want to. A great big part of her wanted to just leave the day as lovely as it could be. But this had been the whole reason for it. Ren knew what this all was. A soothing balm on something that they both knew was going to be rough and ragged. 

— He’d gotten to know her well enough to know that if there was something she wanted to do, a way she wanted to engage, she’d make it known to him one way or another. Such was the case here when Gael remained where he was and she made the conscious choice to scoot closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. And he made the conscious choice to turn his head slightly, brushing his jaw against her skull, feeling her soft curly hair on his chin, the motion not unlike a dog wanting to rest its head on someone’s leg. Lowering his head, his cheek against her for a brief moment, Gael inhaled deeply and calmly through his nose, breathing steadily, keeping his expression mild, soft, half-lidded. “Yeah, maybe for a few minutes.” He suggested. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s start slow.” He began with a light shrug of the shoulder that she wasn’t leaning against. “Tell me about how you’re feeling right now and we’ll go from there, okay?” He asked, glancing down at her earnestly. “And if there’s something you don’t want to say, then you can say no and I’ll respect that.” Gael wanted to make sure that this wasn’t an interrogation, something he could learn about her that he’d subsequently hold over her head. He wasn’t going to guilt her, coerce her into saying anything she didn’t want to. This was a delicate process but the fact that she was willing to come out here to even talk in general, the way she was acting during the trip so far, how she now leaned against him with the timid gentleness of a child wanting to know if it was okay for them to touch, all these things told him that even if she weren’t to talk about anything, she’d already come so far from where she started months ago and he was proud of her.

—

A short breath caught briefly in her chest before a long exhale pushed it along. Ren leaned into the comforting touch. Closed her eyes and felt the weight shift from her neck to his shoulder. Felt the roughness of his stubble at odds with the softness of his smile. Darya would never. She could never. Iron skin or sheltered heart. The effect was the same. Distance. Always arm’s length or more. 

“Okay.” Such a simple word. Breathed out like a sigh. A rush of water breaking through a dam of poorly placed leaves, built up over time as the canopy withered through the seasons. Ren made no move to change her position. Here was good. Here was safe. The girl had never felt so seen as when she was with Gael, never felt so secure. It was why secrets had to be shared. The past laid out, so they could both come to understand one another even better. 

“Right now is–” Butterflies and wasps. Coziness and dread, somehow all wrapped up in one. Ren’s head was spinning and her heart was a great iron anchor. The moment was everything she could have ever hoped for. Things she didn’t know she wanted right up until they were given. She felt wanted. That never happened before. Useful, sure. But not wanted. ��Now is good, I think. But perhaps stained. By what came before.” A flash of pink dashed across dry lips. Another sigh. Deliberation on where to go, what was the best thing to say next? Was there even a best in this scenario? Probably not. 

“I do not remember my family.” Ren remembered most things with near picture perfect clarity. Even so, things that far back were lost to a yet to develop brain and a flurry of activity. “I only remember Darya. The compound. When I was very little it was just us.” The nymph fidgeted, making use of her fingers by weaving together a few long strands of grass she plucked absentmindedly. “That was my whole world. She cared for me. But she also trained me. As I grew older, it became more of the second, less of the first. I–” The strand of grass split off under the tension of Ren’s fingers. Breaking apart from the rest of the knotted wheat. “–I thought it was because I had to earn it. Being cared for. That I had done something wrong.”

Ren examined the plant. The structure of it. Where it broke off and left the rest behind. She was silent for a few moments, contemplative. Careful about what she wanted to say next. “That was when I started to think that it was bad just to be what I was. She was teaching me to fight monsters. Monsters who were like me. She did not call me one, but she–” A breath, uneasy and far too heavy, blew away the plants from her hands. “–she did not have to.” 

—   

She didn’t flinch from him. Rather, this time Gael felt her soft, light weight press against his as she leaned into him again and he allowed himself to lean back. An exchange of body heat, a physical connection, a repeat of that day on the bed. Her heartbeat was much calmer now, her face free from tears; he didn’t feel desperation in her body language. How far she’d come. And yet, the ghosts of her past still haunted her, stuck to her like a chill you couldn’t shake. A disease that took such a beautiful thing and forced it to look in the mirror to view itself with horror because who could love a thing like that? Nothing Ren said about Darya could’ve surprised Gael anymore, the initial rage that bubbled inside him with learning the bulk of the woman’s deplorable actions as he sat on his laptop, reading the things she did through the conduit that was his conversation with Ren having since simmered down to a residual irritation that lined his esophagus, gnawing at the soft tissue as he learned a new thing to hate her for. He couldn’t presume to truly know Darya and as such, he didn’t feel right casting unbiased judgment but from one human to another, he wished the earth would spontaneously open its maw where she stood and plunge her into the deepest, furthest pits of Hell. …But that coping mechanism was just as unhealthy, Gael knew that too. You couldn’t heal the wounds from the past by pretending they didn’t exist, by the cause suddenly being removed forever. As Ren spoke to him about more of those fragments, bearing the wounds to him, he was given something he felt she spared few others - the opportunity to simply talk about it, start treating those wounds until they could turn into scars that she would carry with her but no longer were they open, neglected as she was. This day was important, these conversations and words she told him were important. “She means a lot to you.” Gael offered quietly, keeping his head facing forward. “She raised you and trained you. Taught you everything you know.” He inhaled deeply. “And she kept you at a distance. Never comforted you when you needed it. Made you feel like a stranger in your own skin.” He knew how that felt nowadays and he hadn’t forgotten that he said he’d talk to her about that while they were there… and how he couldn’t predict how that conversation would turn about. It caused his stomach to twist itself into knots the way he was sure hers did when he suggested she just… express herself. How could he be so selfish and hypocritical? That was for down the line, however. “It’s okay to feel conflicted about her.” Because that was true. There was a reason why the heavily abused and neglected clung so desperately to their beliefs, the idea that whoever was abusing them was the only light in their world of darkness. It was a terrible conditioning effect, implemented from an age that was never right because it itself was never right. “It’s also okay to think that she’s not all bad while realizing that there are some things she did that are bad.” Good, bad, simple terminology to describe an evil in one of the purest forms - the corruption between a parent and a child. The acid that simmered in Gael’s esophagus churned at the thought.

—

Open honesty was once again rewarded with patient understanding. Ren didn’t smile, not exactly. This wasn’t the time for that, but… she did allow her cheek to squish in closer. Looped a small arm around his. Trying out another new gesture as she listened. As she tried her best to commit these things to actual understanding. If only it was as easy as just remembering the words.

Knowing something and feeling it were not the same thing. 

If knowledge was a stream, each current a different branch of study, knowing would be standing along the shore. Pulling fish from the depths to feed oneself, but staying dry all the while. Feeling however, was an immersive dive. Flowing down the river. Cool waters cradling and lifting your body while the waves lapped around you. It was wind dancing along wet skin. A weightlessness with applied pressure. All surrounding, all consuming. Blotting out the world around you as your head dipped below the surface. 

Feeling was like floating, feeling too much was like drowning. 

Ren wished she could just crush away the feelings that threatened to pull her under. Conflicted, confused, and careful. A few tentative breaths cooled the rush of heat always swelled when she tried to feel. How often had the only emotion to surface been anger? The fires of rage, fueling her like a furnace. Everything else was simply too much to process. An overwhelming tide where it all mixed into one force that just made her cry. Ren hated crying. She hated being mad, too. But at least there was something you could do with anger. You could direct it outward, could expend the energy by throwing herself into fights far too big for her to handle on her own. She, a defiant David against every Goliath that dared cross her path. 

Not everything could be solved that way though. More, in fact, couldn’t be. “I do not think I knew comfort was even a thing I wanted, until here.” Ren squeezed tighter, inhaled the subtle scent of cedar and leather. Something she hadn’t even realized had become so synonymous with home. “I was alone. I lived in a cabin. On the compound but away from everyone else. Darya said it was for my safety. I would be left to my own training, and she would come to observe when she dropped off supplies. Was not so different when first arrived in Wicked’s Rest. Still get supplies. Only now I do not see her.” The nymph’s mouth dried, a pang of guilt at the fact that she realized how relieved that made her. She’d been so excited, she’d always been so excited to see her mother. Distance drew them apart. And yet– “She sent call. Day I ran away. Checked in. She sounded… concerned. Sounded proud. I had been angry at her and not sent reports, and she was worried I think. And I–” She quieted. Slumped slightly. Kept her breath steady. “–It was same day as the cu-sith. Too much filled my head at once. Could not think properly. Went to where I thought it would be clear. Only made things worse.” Ren licked her lips again, her eyes fixated on the edge of the blanket. Frayed strings, just like her mind. “I–I do not want to be bad daughter. But I was mad that she showed she could be good mother. I was mad at how much I still need her. Mad at how much I want her to care about me. At how much I would still do to get this. Mad at everything.” 

— Her cheek against him, an arm wrapped around his own and further words in an attempt to express herself, each one acting as a small task of its own that she tried now that she had the space and ability to do so. Gael reciprocated by brushing her head with his jaw again lightly, gently, like a cat marking a human with the glands under their chin only with the touch of a finger on highly-fragile glass. The man thought carefully on each of the words that Ren said, every sentence that felt like it was cracking off just a little more of the shell that surrounded the small, beating heart of the girl. Wounded, tired even at her young age, pumping survival and primal instinct through her but not ever supplied with what she needed: joy, happiness, love. And as she spoke, as she said these sentences, Gael wanted to scoop her up in his arms and stop the conversation where it was, embracing her, apologizing for making her discuss this when he knew how difficult it was, wanting to give her more juice and to turn her loose in the field once more so she could find that hidden happiness again. But they both knew this was something that needed to be addressed, the splinter that kept the wound from healing properly. And Gael admired her strength, even if she didn’t see it. “You’re not a bad daughter.” He affirmed first. “It’s understandable that you were mad.” The more Gael thought about it, the more he wondered if Darya was concerned for her or was she more concerned at the fact that her little super soldier who went out into the world and gathered information for her was no longer making contact. He paused for a moment, taking the opportunity to scoot a little closer to her this time. “I think there might be part of her that cares for you.” He explained slowly, looking at the grass that swayed slightly under the touch of the wind that shifted through their curly hair. “But she waited until you were grown and gone before telling you that.” 

It was a difficult thing to say and Gael didn’t want to straight up call it abuse, even if it obviously was; telling her daughter that ‘her kind’ were monsters, that fae were inherently dangerous and needed to be killed, that she should hate what she was. Then of course when Ren found independence, people she could talk to and relationships that would actually give her the things she needed, Darya calls and wonders if she’s okay and that she was worried. The thought tensed a small part of him up despite knowing better and he released the energy by popping his neck, tilting his head away from the girl. “Just because she wasn’t a good mother until it was on her terms doesn’t mean you’re a bad daughter, Ren.” Gael repeated, the idea that she held herself to this impossible standard that was forced on her making the acidic feeling in his esophagus rise. “You’ve killed but you’re not a murderer. You’re a fae but you’re not a monster.” He bit his tongue now to keep himself from going overboard with his own emotions, wanting to get back onto his passionate soapbox about how Darya wasn’t worth Ren’s affections or craving for approval, how Ren was so much better than anything Darya could’ve offered her after 20 years of abuse and neglect, how Ren had friends and people who cared deeply about her over the course of a few months than Darya had her entire life. 

He breathed deeply, feeling himself simmering down from his flash of anger, the temperamental creature that rose inside him on occasion, the sleepwalker beneath the surface that ruined things. He didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want Ren to leave again. “If she asked… would you return to her?” Gael asked softly.

—

A long drawn moment of quiet contemplation consumed the girl. Each idea Gael proposed was tucked away, neatly and carefully. Revered tomes of wisdom to be reviewed over and over until she could call them true. Ren swallowed hard, when he reminded her that he didn't see her as a murderer, a monster. The two statements and how they contradicted one another in her brain had driven them to this conversation, hadn't they? If she wasn't a murderer, it was because she only killed monsters. But if she wasn't a monster, then neither were the people she killed. 

Ren had realized more and more since she got to Wicked's Rest how much choice she had in everything. Why hadn't she stopped at the first? Why didn't she question more when they looked back at her with betrayal and fear. Weakness. She thought they were cowards, weak cowards begging for their own pitiful lives, but no. They were probably just people. Terrified and confused as to where the hellion came from and why she was trying to kill them with such fury. 

"It is not just… it is not so simple as this." Ren looked towards the horizon. Beyond the tree line as best she could guess was the direction of the compound. "I killed them." Tiny arms loosened as she sat up straight. Tucking her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on folded arms. Somehow the sweet contact seemed too much. She didn't want to sour it, not with this. "I did that. Nothing changes this. Not even if I was told to do so. Darya was not here. She did not make me hold the knife. She only gave me ideas. I should have made my own." You're a kid. That's what Emilio kept saying. Was she? Most days Ren felt like she was just a hollow vessel for other people's intentions. 

"Not all of them were bad. Certainly not, not if I also am– not a monster just for what I was born as. Maybe–" Ren paused again. Wetting her lips and talking a breath. "Maybe I am– because of what I have done. How do you fix something like this? What if the ones I have hurt… what if they had people they cared about, people who cared about them… what if they had their own Gaels or Noras or Vans or anything like this. I must have hurt those people too, and I did not even hold knife to them." It had been eating away at her, the more close bonds she made, the more she realized she'd be upset if something happened to these people, the more Ren realized she had done just about the worst thing someone could.  Multiple times. And had felt no remorse until someone dared show her what kindness was. 

In a way, she wished she could go back. At least she didn't wake up in the middle of the night panting and sweating, seeing ghosts of the faces she couldn't force herself to forget. "No." Defiant. Small. Weakly, she responded to his question. "...Yes." Taken back about as soon as it'd been unleashed. "Maybe. I do not know." Each was a lie, each was the truth. Her stomach hurt but not from intricate rules that bound every fae, at least not fully. Ren let her head droop further. Till she was looking down at the blanket where a line of ants had begun to make their way towards some of the apple juice that had been splashed in her earlier excitement. 

Could she ever just stay in a state like that? Happy, content. Or was it always doomed to be more like this. Moments of precious pretend, then bitter harsh truths. Go back, go back, go back. To where, to when? Was there ever a time when things were just okay? When they would have stayed that way if nothing changed? No, she supposed. Life didn't work out that way. 

"It is not like I can just stop, if I do not send reports, she will not send supplies."

—

Gael adjusted his position when she pulled away from him - they were getting to the meat of the issue. A root cause, one of the bigger wounds he wanted so badly to address and help start to heal. But even he wasn’t sure how to fix it. It was a problem and not a small one at that. Gael didn’t want to admit that he might not’ve been the most well-equipped to tackle this problem, the one where she’d killed several people. He had already snapped at Emilio for his description and defense of hunters, and what was Ren’s upbringing if not “a hunter of fae”? He wracked his brain for answers, an explanation that would soften the blow or words of affirmation that might make her feel better but she brought up some valid points. If they were all like Ren, creatures who could doll themselves up to appear human, pursue relationships the way Ren had been, had thoughts and feelings and emotions… a capacity for love… How many people did Gael know that weren’t human? ‘Supernatural’ as Emilio had called nonhumans. How many people did Gael know as people, not aware of what was under the glamour, the trick of the light? What they kept inside, their true natures as beasts with human skin– No, that wasn’t the right train of thought. That was a dangerous place, one he didn’t want to go to. No, they were still people. And Ren had killed a bunch of them. That was true. Gael couldn’t contest that. It had happened and she was now coming to the realization that it wasn’t the right thing to do. And yet… “She wasn’t there in person.” He said aloud after a lengthy moment of silence. “But she was still there with you.” He looked earnestly at the girl, making sure his expression remained gentle, as full of understanding as he could manage despite not knowing exactly how she could’ve felt. “You did those things because no one taught you any better.” His expression managed to soften more, his brow twitching. “My grandfather had a saying. ‘Violence is not the fault of the weapon, but of the person who wields it’.” He licked his lower lip and changed the way he was sitting slightly, pulling his legs in a little so he could rest an elbow on one. Gael tapped on his chin in thought. “You were the weapon. Darya is the person wielding you.” He considered. “I… can’t give you a clinical answer on how to fix what’s been done.” He admitted. “But you’re still very young, both for a fae and a human. You have so much life to live, so many things to learn, so many choices for you to make.” He craned his head, searching for her gaze that was on the ground now. “I don’t know what supplies she sends you as collateral for your reports. But if you let me, I’ll provide you with anything you want or need. Books, food, a new knife, a plant for your room.” He inhaled deeply. “Whatever you want, however you feel is right now. And I’m here with you right now. The past may be broken but that doesn’t mean your life and how you want to live it going forward is.”

—

The quiet stretch was a long bout of self imposed agony. Things Ren wouldn't recognize as anxiety but would whisper things her way. Telling illogical things that were proven so false so quickly. Gael, clever professor. Fountain of warmth. A hearth made man. He assured the nymph the decisions still lay on the hands of the one who taught her. Professed her a weapon in those instances, not fully at fault. 

Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it didn't fully pull the sting away from those bright green eyes, catching sight of the man as he stooped to meet her gaze. Maybe it didn't fix things, but it was a start. It was a step towards okay. Nextdoor to normal. 

Slowly, slowly, she nodded. Pressed her lips together and mimicked something of a sad smile. If Ren had been more accustomed to the normal life she might have lived, more adjusted to living and enjoying company, she might have proposed a toast. 

Raise a cup of apple juice high for the concept of time. Time enough for justice. For healing. For the world to spin on its axis and Ren to learn how to exist within it. How to live with herself and what she had done. Time enough to form bonds with people like Gael who so clearly wanted to help soothe the wounded parts of her heart and soul. 

Ren let her forehead drop a little forward. Just enough that the very crown of her head met his. A gentle bump, and an affirmation that if nothing else, she was willing to try. And so, so thankful for the hand of guidance he offered. 

Ren pulled back slightly, but not of fear or anxiety this time. Just enough to get a better look. Enough that she could compose herself and throw an idea out, as her mind was always looking for solutions rather than just letting her feel her feelings. Emotions were a puzzle she was keen on solving. Even when she couldn't. Even when she shouldn't. 

 "There are… still dangers out there. Things people do not see coming. If I can protect them from those… if I can stop danger from happening, maybe this is penance? Maybe it is only fair…" 

—

Her eyes met his, to his quiet relief and she dropped her head before it made contact with his. A small smile made its way onto Gael’s face as he closed his eyes briefly, taking the small motion as a nonverbal indicator that she was at least receptive to the things he said. Happy that he didn’t push too hard, he wanted to tell her how proud he was of their conversation, the good things that she’s done. He’d be sure when the situation presented itself. For now, though, he was satisfied with the small, gentle head bump and he kept his dark eyes on her as she pulled back, the same small smile on his angled face. And Gael’s expression lightened with a gentle enthusiasm at her suggestion, accompanying it with a nod. “I think that’s a great start. Protect people from the objectively bad ones. Like what you did with me. “Though I hate to break it to you, little fern. Unfortunately, life isn’t fair and it probably won’t ever be.” Gael explained, softening his gaze once more. “But that willingness to move forward and more importantly, letting you be kind to yourself are great steps to take.” He reached over for more of the apple juice, pouring some for her and offering the cup to her again. “The rest will come with time and patience.” He winked. “Little pleasures. Feeling happy. Rain comes but the sun always follows.”

[coastalwind]

what’s your favourite book?

i'll say 3 cause i can't just choose one, in no particular order:

Small Country by Gael Faye, it's not very long but it had me crying from the first page. It's a mix of historical fiction and autobiography, highly recommend

2. The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector, this is a very personal choice, I was in a very weird space emotionally when I first read it and I saw a lot of myself in the protagonist. The movie adaptation is coming back to theaters this month and I'm super excited about it :) (I also recommed The Passion According to GH and Água Viva by the same author, though those are harder to read)

3. The Metamorphosis by Kafka, don't really need to say much about it, I read it right after I read The Hour of the Star and yeah, lots of feelings (love this cover and version of the book btw)

ask me my favorite whatever :)

[a-song-for-ages]

https://pin.it/3hiGBrk

"The colours of our house suits you," her cousin had said - and strange were her words, for the colours of both their houses were not the ones she currently wore, a velvety turquoise, not so bright as the colours maidens oft wore, but subtle, the colour toned down with the silver she wore.

"Our house?" She asked, tilting her head to the side as she took herself in, assessing everything with mild curiosity - yes, she quite liked the colour, as she liked the pale lilacs she oft wore and the mints and yellows her mother had gotten her. Though, from all the coloured dresses she had, the ones that were so far from her own family colours were the ones she loved the most - not the purple, or the greens, or the blacks or reds. But the blues of the skies, and yes, well, mint was a shade of green, but she preferred a mic of the two - which the current fabric of the dress that she wore, was. It did not help that the fabric, though thick, somehow shone in the light, not rippling in it, but more so playing with the shadows of where the light struck.

"You are a Velaryon now," she had said. "If not by blood, then by marriage." She shrugged, and Naerys had looked to her cousin through the mirror.

"Hmm," was all she said, sounding much like her older, ill-tempered brother. "I suppose all Targaryens do have a semblance of the sea in them..."

"It must be that our blood sings for Valyria," her cousin smiled, a genuine smile, and Naerys had looked down, smiling.

"Mayhaps," she said, her words a quiet thing.

"And, truthfully speaking," her cousin said, "the dress suits you." She got up and stood beside her, "It brings out your hair," and she gathered her hair and brought it over her shoulder, loose waves falling down, covering one part of her neck, leaving the other exposed.

Naerys aughed. "You compliment yourself, cousin, for our features are so finely alike, not many would hope to tell us apart, were it not for our eyes, among other things." The girls did share some features... their hair, their nose, their build and their grace.

Rhaena's eyes glistened with excitement. "Shall I get one too, then? So that we may further confuse my father."

"If you would like so," she smiled, her cousin's happiness warming her almost instantly. "Though I believe your father would not."

"My father hardly takes a liking to most things nowadays," she shrugged, before smiling blindingly at her cousin, and pulling another dress her way. The colour was near-white, and the material was made of silk, a thing that quickly caught her eye.

"Now this," Rhaena had said, "comes in a lilac, too. Should you like we match in that, as well?"

And Naerys found it difficult in her to tell Rhaena no, so she only nodded and smiled, her eyes lighting up in contentment as Rhaena droned on about the dresses and accessories that the new ship had brought - mostly for herself and her sister, but she was willing to share with Naerys, because while she had her sisters, Rhaena saw no harm in having one more.

Rhaena and Gael/Naerys/what's-her-name are gonna have the best sister-ship ever like. Literally friends that you count as your siblings I'm crying.

[curse-bearing-hips]

Brokenness is a form of art

Chapter Two

I wanna love you but I don’t know how

Summary: Like countless others, Delphine suffered at the hands of Hybern during the attack on Velaris. Two years later, she continues to rebuild her life and fight her demons. Reluctantly befriending the High Lady may just help her connect with her unknown, winged savior.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k

____________________________________________

It took two years to rebuild and to heal.

Velaris recovered before Delphine did, the building repairs happening at top speed with everyone chipping in. Even with the war against Hybern, the Night Court fae did their best to restore their city for their soldiers - their family, friends, lovers - to return to.

Delphine had been confined to the healing house for two weeks after the attack. The poison - bloodbane - had wreaked havoc on her system and her body struggled to get back to normal. The wound left two wicked-looking scars behind in its wake; entry and exit wounds that were jagged and angry, raised flesh that she often ran her fingers across as though the touch would erase them. 

After being discharged, Delphine spent another few months at home, hiding from the world and the horrors she’d seen it capable of. Her dreams were filled with the screams of her fellow citizens. Sometimes, she’d awaken in the middle of the night to the searing pain of the blade piercing her flesh, only to find the ghost of the laceration stinging at the memory. 

Eight months after the attack, Yara had stomped in and forced Delphine to re-open the shop. 

But Delphine didn’t want a rebuilt shop, didn’t want the specter of the attack lingering over her head all day, every day. And so, she’d put in a bid for a broken building at the other end of the Rainbow, won it, and started anew. Things still felt wrong, but she needed to press forward. Yara was right; hiding at home wasn’t helping her heal.

The new cafe was cute; mint-green exterior walls with a friendly-looking patio out front where customers could lounge during the warmer months. The inside was cozier, with inviting wood paneling and several bookshelves for customers to avail themselves of. Delphine liked the addition of the books, something the first shop had desperately needed but lacked the space for. This shop had much more space for cushy sofas and armchairs for curling up in by the stone fireplace. Yara had also been adamant about serving coffee, much to Delphine’s chagrin.

Overall, Delphine was proud of the new shop. A new beginning. A way to honor the past, but move towards the future. 

Her first customers were, of course, her parents and brother. 

Gael and Nerina had always been an interesting couple, in Delphine’s opinion. She often referred to them as the sun and the moon. Her father, Gael, was golden-blonde and freckled from years spent traveling. He was a scholar, with tenure at the university, teaching history to generations of bored students. In his younger years, Gael had traveled as far as he could, trying to experience everything. His travels had led him to the Illryian mountains, where he instantly and deeply fell in love with a shrewd female hanging laundry to dry. 

Nerina had been a little more reticent of Gael. Up until then, she’d only interacted with Illyrian males, who were notably hostile and possessive (she’d had her wings clipped by the village lord when she’d come of age). Gael had been friendly - excited and curious and most certainly not able to survive a week in an Illyrian village, not unlike an abandoned puppy who didn’t understand the dangers of the world. She’d reluctantly housed him in the inn her family owned and taught him of Illyrian customs. Within the month, he’d asked her to accompany him back to Velaris and Nerina never looked back, intrigued by the strange and kind male. Six centuries and two children later, that overly-friendly high fae was the light of her life. 

“Oh, dearest, this is lovely!” Nerina crushed her daughter into a hug upon entering the shop for the first time, the day before the official re-opening. Delphine blushed, awkwardly mumbling her thanks at the praise. Her mother had always been overly affectionate - a trait she learned from her husband. Gael always laughed about how standoffish she’d been when courting and how tactile she became once in Velaris. Illyrians, by nature, were unapproachable, but Nerina took every chance she got to touch her family, providing them with what she lacked in her own childhood.

“Bookshelves!” Gael exclaimed, inspecting the built-in shelves that lined two of the walls. He turned to his daughter with a grin, “I’ll have to get you some copies of my latest book.”

“No one wants to read A Boring History of Prythian, Dad.” Varro sauntered around the shop with his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes at their father as he surveyed the area.

“Montesere: The Continent's Jewel, son.” Gael countered, crossing his arms, but his smile belied his false sensitivity. 

“Boys.” Nerina implored, finally freeing Delphine of her embrace. Delphine followed her brother’s exploration of the cafe as he walked behind the counter, inspecting every inch of the bar. He wasn’t always very conscious of his wings in cramped spaces and Delphine wasn’t about to risk any broken teacups. 

“Does it pass inspection?” Delphine asked flatly, crossing her arms. Varro’s blue eyes met her own and he shot her a winning grin. A smile she’d seen him use on countless females down at Rita’s. He continued his perusal, opening a jar of coffee grounds and sniffing experimentally before scrunching his nose in distaste. 

“Coffee? Gross, who drinks that?” He protested, setting the jar back in the wrong place. Delphine heaved a great put-upon sigh at the action.

“Everybody,” She said staunchly, arching an eyebrow as she watched him, “Yara demanded it and she’s right.” 

“Like she needs to drink coffee.” He muttered at the mention of the high-energy female. Varro persisted in his investigation, touching everything in his wake. 

“Can you not make a mess before I’ve even opened?” 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Varro was as annoying as he’d been the day he was born, but gods, did she love him. Delphine had only been ten when he was born - young enough to grow up together, but old enough to remember what it was like to sleep through the night without an infant crying. Luckily, that hadn’t lasted long, but Delphine remembered how devastating it was that her little brother got to fly and she couldn’t. Varro learning to fly had been hilarious though. Their mother hadn’t flown in centuries, having been clipped at a young age, and Gael and Delphine didn’t have wings. Nerina had downright refused to send her son to a war camp to train and so he’d had to learn at home in Velaris with his flightless family. It had been many months of them all crying in various degrees of frustration and helplessness before Varro finally figured it out. Delphine was sure his technique was bad, but all that mattered is that he could stay aloft. 

As an Illyrian in Velaris, Varro attracted a decent amount of attention. As a handsome Illyrian in Velaris, he attracted a lot of attention. 

Varro was tall - much taller than Delphine and their parents. Naturally broad-shouldered, Varro worked to keep his physique in shape even if he wasn’t a true Illyrian warrior. He shared the same dark brown hair as their mother and wore it a bit shaggy, curling around his ears. Varro had the same bright blue eyes as Delphine and a penchant for freckles in the summertime. He shared Gael’s friendliness and sociable demeanor. Overall, a great catch and very popular at Rita’s, unless the General was there to catch the majority of flirty glances. 

“Delphine? Are you listening?” Nerina’s voice brought Delphine out of the deep concentration she aimed at her brother, making sure he didn’t mess things up too much. Apparently, Nerina had been speaking the whole time.

“What?” She asked, turning to her mother, who gave her a disapproving frown. 

“I asked if you two would go with us to the painting class this evening.”

The response was immediate. And not positive.

“Absolutely not!

“Mom!”

The siblings sounded four hundred years younger as they bleated their refusals to their mother. Nerina pursed her lips, crossing her arms and straightening her wings, a stance that clearly read do not argue, but her children kept simultaneously whining at her request. Gael came to stand beside his wife, pointedly looking at his son and daughter. 

“I am requesting one evening. Can’t you spare that for your parents?” Delphine groaned and looked over at Varro, who looked, if possible, less enthused at the idea. 

“I’m leaving for Summer Court tomorrow, Mother.” He said, leaning his hands on the counter, as if that explained everything. Nerina merely arched a brow at her son.

“Rita’s will be here when you get back.”

Delphine snorted a laugh at the accuracy or their mother’s assumption. Varro often traveled for work - he managed trade deals between Night and the other courts - and typically spent the night before out drinking and galivanting. Nerina knew her son too well. 

At Delphine’s sound, Nerina rounded on her daughter, who at least had the decency to look scared.

“You don’t even have an excuse.” Delphine cringed at her mother, refusing to acknowledge the truth. “You’re both coming with us to spend time as a family.”

“You act like we never see each other.” Varro couldn’t let a battle go, even when they were so thoroughly defeated. Delphine glared at him, willing him to stand down for once in his life. Nerina had four hundred years-worth of guilt she could pin on her children and Delphine wasn’t willing to break open that dam. 

“We’ll be there, Mother,” Delphine finally acquiesced, sending a stern look at Varro before turning back to her mother, “Just don’t expect any masterpieces from us.”

______________________________________________________________

Delphine couldn’t paint. She had not one lick of artistic ability inside of her and no desire to force herself to learn. Sure, she had centuries of life left (hopefully) and perhaps the fancy to learn to paint would hit her eventually, but it hadn’t yet. And so sitting in a studio for two hours with other people who could paint made Delphine feel silly. 

Lucky, misery loved company and Varro was not so artistically-inclined either. Gael was a talented painter and had tried very hard to teach his children, but they’d been both unwilling and not natural artists. Even Nerina had above-average talent and flourished with landscapes in particular. 

The group painting session was small that night, just Delphine, her family, a couple on a first date, and the High Lady. Delphine had never really interacted with the High Lady before - she’d gotten out of family painting night over a dozen times and avoided the studio as best she could. Feyre was just as warm and friendly as gossip said and Delphine felt a pang of envy at the thought of being her friend. Yara was Delphine’s only other friend and she was seeing someone, so their time was limited. With the shop re-opening, Delphine was happy she’d get to see her more, but still craved more than just work-time socializing. Other than Yara, Delphine only had Varro. 

Feyre glided around the circle of painters, giving the vaguest instructions Delphine had ever heard,

“Paint whatever you’d like,” The High Lady said with a smile, taking the time to look each of her students in the eye.

I’d like to not paint, Delphine thought sourly, twirling a paintbrush between her fingers.

A blank canvas can be a masterpiece itself.

Delphine nearly toppled off of the stool at the sound of the High Lady’s voice in her head. Varro looked over at her, snorting a poorly-concealed laugh at his sister’s expense. She felt her mother’s glare directed at both of them, with a sharply uttered children, imploring them to behave. It was a well-known secret the High Lord was a daemati, but Delphine hadn’t heard that his mate was as well. 

“What are you painting?” Repositioning herself on her stool, Delphine leaned over to her brother, peeking at the beginnings of Varro’s work. 

“The females I’m missing out on by being here.” He muttered petulantly, roughly dipping his brush into some brown paint. Delphine tilted her head, looking at the progress and noting the salacious positioning of his elementary stick figures. There were four of them - three females and one male, judging by Varro’s addition of certain anatomy. He certainly had a high opinion of himself. 

Delphine felt Feyre’s presence behind them, studying Delphine’s blank canvas and then Varro’s obscene artwork. She met the High Lady’s eyes and saw the suppressed laughter in her smile.

“Very well done,” Feyre praised Varro, “I love fantasy.”

Delphine’s unladylike yell of “HA!” earned her an angrier glare from her mother. She knew at that point that Nerina was never asking her children to go anywhere anymore. The tips of Varro’s barely-pointed ears burned red with embarrassment as he muttered under his breath.

“You own the tea shop two doors down from here, don’t you?” Delphine started, surprised that Feyre had still lingered behind her and turned towards the lady.

“Um, yes.”

“Your previous shop was destroyed in the attack.” 

Delphine blinked, shocked that the High Lady would know so much about her. She knew Rhysand and Feyre were very friendly with their people and that they sought to know as many of their people as they could. Delphine hadn’t expected to be someone that her High Lady would desire to know about. 

“It was a pink building,” Feyre continued and Delphine was struck speechless as the tips of Feyre’s ears turned pink in embarrassment, “I may have leaned a little too heavily on a wall that day.”

“It’s fine,” Delphine said quickly, shaking her head for emphasis, “It was already pretty demolished by the time you got there.” The two held eye contact for a moment before Feyre bowed her head and continued over to the couple beside Varro. 

Delphine stared at her canvas again, desperately attempting to think of anything to paint. She didn’t want Feyre to think she didn’t care or wasn’t trying. She just didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t her thing. She knew Feyre opened this studio and started these classes for people to learn to heal from the trauma of the attack and the war. Delphine had seen the paintings lining the walls, some happy, some triumphant, but some were nightmares. Delphine recognized the images of war, of destruction and death and despair. She didn’t want to dig into that, didn’t want to re-open the wound she’d been trying so hard to close, to ignore. Her own nightmares were hard enough to handle - giving them form on canvas wouldn’t make them go away. 

She clenched her eyes shut and tried to not think for a moment. What could she paint that she didn’t have to think about?

Dipping her brush into some paint, Delphine began to mindlessly swirl patterns on the canvas. Her head quieted, focusing on the rhythmic movement of her arm and wrist as she applied color. This wasn’t so bad, she concluded, eyes glazing over in her peace. She might have gone as far as to say she was calm. Quiet for the first time in two years. 

At the end of two hours, Delphine placed her work on the drying rack beside Feyre. Her High Lady looked at the canvas, eyes lighting up at the painting. Delphine flushed, it wasn’t the best in the room, but she was oddly proud of it and desperately wanted Feyre’s approval.

“I did my best.” Delphine said quietly, feeling childish with her eyes firmly fixated on the floor. She felt a hand on her arm and looked up at Feyre, whose eyes blazed with something Delphine couldn’t place. Feyre’s eyes flickered to the canvas - was that recognition? - and then back to Delphine. 

“I know you did. And it’s beautiful.”

______________________________________________________________

That night, Delphine laid in bed, utterly stricken. 

She knew she was having a nightmare, but couldn’t pull herself out of it. 

It took a while to even understand that she was in a nightmare and not reality. After two years of the same specter haunting her dreams, Delphine eventually learned how to recognize when it was happening. Not to say that that prevented the nightmare from occurring altogether, but it made it fractionally easier to bear, knowing that this was not real life and that she was not still stuck in this moment. Knowing that, eventually, it would pass. 

Velaris was in chaos, amidst the attack by Hybern. The sky was dark with the haze of black magic and the air thrummed from the beating wings of wicked beasts as they descended upon innocent fae. Buildings were crumbling, people were screaming, and the metallic tang of blood coated her throat. Delphine was dying. Again. She could feel the cold dagger piercing her side and the gasp of shock that left her rattled her ribs. Yara’s scream was a distant, distorted noise. 

Over and over, Delphine died. At first, it was every night following the attack. She’d suffer the searing slash of the blade and the cold fingers of death would crawl through her veins. After she’d begun renovations on the new café, her daily exhaustion kept any dreams at bay for a while; a mercy for the time being. For the last two months as the renovations finished, the nightmare was back every other night. She died again and again and again. 

It never got any easier. 

The only thing she could do was let it happen - not that she could stop the creature from stabbing her - because she knew she’d eventually drift off into nothingness.

Her dreams always ended with a strange sense of calm. As life faded from her, ebbing away like the tide from the shoreline, she’d sense a warm presence. Was that Death coming to claim her at last? As her eyes closed, the most beautiful blue light would pulse gently, a comforting rhythm, as she slipped beneath death’s shadow.

_________________________________________________________

Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to a tag list!

<3 Jenn

[ofmythsandfablesaa]

Gwynne O’Briain

BACKGROUND ON GWYNNE’S FAERIE TYPE

Prevalent in ancient Celtic mythology is the Tuatha dè Danann (pronounced Too-a Day Dah-nuhn), which means People of the Goddess Danu, and they are believed to be her children. They are believed to have magically materialized from a cloud of mist from across the northern sea. They are a subcategory of Trooping Faes.

The Tuatha dè Danann were immortal and known for their magical abilities, as well as their power, charm, elegance, and cleverness. They were believed to have ruled Ireland four thousand years ago.

They’re described as beautiful and graceful, often have pale or golden skin, and some believe they have Greek origins.

They withdrew to the Otherworld underground beneath the Sidhe (pronounced shee) mounds when they were invaded and overpowered by the Milesians. Scholars believe the Milesians were most likely the first Gaels in Ireland and ancestors of the modern Irish.

It is thought they continue to practice their magic in the Otherworld. Their courts, towns, culture, and festivities have all been preserved. Humans might venture too far into this Otherworld if they found the secret entrance.

SYNOPSIS

( In collaboration with the magnificent @wonderhevrts ❤️ )

Gwynne, youngest daughter of Rian and Aurina O’Briain ( the monarchs of Braiwyth, a kingdom within the Otherworld ) and youngest sister to Elsie ( their father’s successor ), is a handful. A bright light within the kingdom, always smiling and kind and the life of every single feast and party, but finding herself rebelling outside of her parents’ orders to stay within their kingdom’s walls. Though she is often reprimanded for it, the young princess cannot help but want to explore more of what her world, and other worlds, have to offer.

One evening, under the cover of darkness, Gwynne slips out of her home and finds herself going through the portal leading to the human realm. It is here that she falls in love with human life and the bustle of it all, and decides to stay. Here, she discreetly learns about human behavior, how they communicate, how they get to and from places, what they indulge themselves in and so on. Gwynne is excited about this new way of life and wants to partake in it, that is, until her sister finds her a week later and is insisting she come home. 

After pleading with her to stay, Elsie then goes to meet with their father. She convinces him that they both wish to stay to study the humans and better understand them instead of fearing them and though he was a bit reluctant, he conceded. It’s now been a few years since then, and Gwynne and Elsie are enjoying what the human world has to offer them.

VERSES

Hello Humans! - Main Verse ( 1000+ years old ; time could vary within how long she’s in the human realm, usually between 2-5 years )

Gwynne lives in her own apartment, enjoying her time in the human world and continuoiusly learning their ways. Oh, and she has an O.nlyF.ans account to earn money. 

Rebellious Princess - Otherworld Verse

Gwynne is still at home in Braiwyth, wreaking havoc within the kingdom and making up her own kinds of fun, much to her parents and sister’s dismay.

Archfey - W.itcher Verse ( I’m taking inspo from a fanon page mixed with my own ideas since I don’t like all that the fanon page states )

Gwynne is an Archfey ( Seelie ) living among humans and other supernaturals in The Continent. Archfey are highly powerful creatures that even surpass higher vampires and rival the likes of Gaunter O’Dimm ( W.itcher 3 character - please read about him if you’re unfamiliar with him ). She lives within a community of Archfeys, having settled there over thousands of years prior, and is recognized by the ruler of Toussaint and regarded with respect and have become trading partners. The people of Toussaint don’t bother them, and vice versa. Gwynne lives in her large cottage near the banks of a river in a forest that separates Toussaint and their domain ( name of said domain remains unknown atm ). 

--- ABILITIES INCLUDE ( not including the blessings magic in the fanon page ):

Flight: With the use of wings that are normally hidden beneath her skin when among humans, she is able to fly anywhere with advanced speed.

Curse Magic: If an Archfey is taught to and inclined they can use magic relating to curses.

Illusionary Magic: An Archfey can perform the most common tricks or the most powerful illusionary spells. They can perform vanishing acts, pull dozens of scarfs out of their mouths, or even create conjuring spells from various bizarre spells.

Nature Magic: An Archfey can use magic to cast spells that draw upon the physical forces of the natural world. They can create/control elemental creatures, cast spells and harness natures magical energies.

Polymorphy: An Archfey can change their shape, size, color, density, texture, cellular composition, and/or atomic composition to mimic qualities, impersonate entities, amplify abilities, and/or traverse environments.

Transmutation Magic: An Archfey can utilize a form of magic based on and/or take control of transmutation of living or non-living things, ranging from simple changes and modifications to more complex and powerful transformations, allowing for harnessing their magical energies and/or mystical control the aspects of a verity of forms.

Wish Granting: An Archfey has the ability to make wishes, whether their own or those of other individuals, come true.

ABILITIES ( pertaining to her main and otherworld verses )

Glamour --- Giving off an illusion to fend off enemies, such as changing appearance or creating things to appear. 

Flying --- Traveling by flight, using the air around her

Telepathy --- Being able to communicate via the mind

Teleportation --- Being able to travel anywhere, including other realms and universes

Language --- They are able to speak any language just by hearing it once. 

Magic --- Casting spells and brewing special potions 

Elemental Magic --- Using the elements around them when casting magic

Dark Magic --- Magic that is forbidden and yet she of course found out how to use it

Please note that the magic Gwynne and her sister Elsie conjure are incredibly powerful. They are high fae beings, having elder blood in their veins that enhance their powers infinitely more than other fae. If they really wanted to, they could snap someone in half, whether human or supernatural, without blinking or exerting much effort in their magic wielding. As friendly and loving and fun as they can be, they are not to be trifled with.

[lunarmoonanons]

The Rogue Prince and The Precious Princess

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Daemon plays with the Small Dragon princess, aiming his sights on her for the future. 

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

The Keep was finally lively again. Due to the success of Maegelle reconciling her parents, the court welcomed back the good Queen and her two sweet daughters. Now at age 6, YN could run about the Keep with her favorite playmate, Daemon. The 9 year old boy had always enjoyed playing with YN, even if she was 3 years his junior; the two would be seen playing tag, or skipping around the yards, or even sneaking around the gardens when they could sneak out of Alysanne’s sight for a moment. Now the two were running around the Keep chasing the other around, much to the delight of the nobles and guards whom they dodged. 

“You can’t catch me, Daemon!” YN giggled and swerved around a guard who smiled at the little princess. 

“Just you wait!” Daemon teased, he was slowing himself down purposefully to lengthen the game. When YN turned a corner he sped up and slid across the floor to get her. 

But when he turned the corner, YN was not in sight. Tentatively, he stepped forward and looked around for her. Ears perked when he heard giggling behind a pillar. YN was hiding from him. Catching a peek of her dress behind one, Daemon swerved around the pillar to jump out at YN. When YN peeked her head out to see Daemon, she was confused when his image did not appear. Suddenly, two hands reached out behind her and tickled her sides, sending YYN into a fury of laughter. 

“Caught You!” Daemon laughed, pleased with himself as he sent YN into unstoppable laughter. 

“Let.. HAHA…Let me…. HAHAHA… Let me GO! HAHAHAHA!” YN laughed hysterically and squirmed in his hold. When he finally let her go, YN remained smiling at the silver haired boy. “So, what should we play now?”

“Hmmm. Hide n Seek?” Daemon offered, taking long dramatic steps to circle around YN who copied his goose steps. 

“Nah, I keep getting lost and Mommy gets sad when ‘m lost.” YN responded, twirling her silver hair. 

“How about hops?” Daemon asked, smiling at the game where they’d bounce around the castle and keep it up till they saw the King or Queen. 

“My legs are too tired. Let’s play a new game!” YN suggested, excited at her new idea. 

“What about Marriage?” Daemon asked, thinking of the game he heard some of the court ladies’ daughters who played the same game with their perspective beaus. 

“What’s that game?” YN asked, tilting her head dramatically to let her hair dangle. 

“We pretend to be married and call each other husband and wife. And we have to stay together the entire time.” Daemon said hoping YN would agree. His father always said that he might marry YN, so in his mind they were just practicing. 

“Wouldn’t you play this game with Gael? She’s around your age. Daddy says ‘m too small to ever marry.” YN asked him, now suddenly wanting to find Gael and include her in their games. 

“I don’t want her. She’s too simple for me. I wanna play with someone who can keep up!” Daemon whined and held out his hand. “Please? Just for today?”

“Mkay.” YN relented and grabbed his hand, not noticing how tight he began to grip his small hand. 

“Perfect! Now let’s go to the throne room, wife!” Daemon smirked at his triumph. 

“Yes yes, hubband.” YN giggled and skipped alongside him. 

“Husband.”

“S’what I said.” 

The two young ones skipped around the keep, smiling at the people and calling each other their new titles. No one seemed to raise an eyebrow at it, since so many like Prince Baelon assumed the two would be wed one day as was custom in the Targaryen line. YN was giggling and enjoying the fake title she had now, but not as much as Daemon enjoyed it. This was more fun than practicing his Valyrian or reading histories. Though not as fun as swordplay, or flying with his father on his father’s dragon, he did enjoy his time with YN. He, like others, loved the little princess the minute she graced the Keep with her bright smile. The two were playmates when she began to walk around as his father designed it. The queen did want him to play with Gael, but Daemon found her to be too boring and dull, but YN was fun. She indulged his games and could keep up with the prince. Daemon had missed her when the queen took her away to Dragonstone, he had asked his father as to why YN was going away but Baelon could give no satisfying answer to the boy. 

Once the two had made it to the throne room, YN let go of Daemon’s hand and ran up to the throne. Much to Daemon’s dismay. 

“YN…” Daemon whined. “Your supposed to keep hold of my hand, wife.”

“Come to the chair with me!” YN smiled and waved him over. When he found his way over, YN grabbed his hand again and brought him up to the throne. “Daddy lets me sit on the chair with him sometimes.”

“It’s called a throne.”

“Drone.”

“Throne.”

“That’s what I said.” YN waved off his comment. 

YN pulled Daemon up the steps so that the two may directly sit on the throne. Daemon hissed at the slight pain the swords gave him when he sat on the Iron throne. The two managed to both sit the throne at the same time. YN kicked her feet around, while Daemon gaped at how long the room looked from this throne. He smiled at YN who returned it with her own bright and wide smile. With a boldness, like Alyssa before him, Daemon lifted YN’s tiny hand to his mouth and placed a kiss sweetly on it. 

“You and I will be married one day. And I’d be the kindest husband to you. I’d take you for a ride on my dragon every day, and we’d-”

“And you’d what? Daemon.” A loud voice interrupted them. Jaehaerys entered the throne room with a slight scowl on his face. 

“Daddy!” YN jumped off the throne and ran to her father, laughing when he lifted her up to his arms. “We were playing a new game! And we ran around the keep together! I escaped my tutor and tried to find you but I couldn’t so I found Daemon and we played chase. And-”

“Hush. Hush YN. I can’t understand you when you speak so fast.” Jaehaerys chuckled at his daughter’s ramblings. Several other lords had made their way into the room, intending to speak to the king and smiling at the sweet sight of Jaehaerys holding his daughter. “Now. What game were you playing?”

“Nothing… just a silly game called marriage.” Daemon mumbled and hopped down from the throne. 

“Hmm. And what makes you think you’d wed YN?” Jaehaerys contained his anger at the thought of someone taking YN away from him. “I do not think you are worthy enough to marry her. No one is.”

“Your majesty… do you not intend to wed her off eventually?” A lord asked, confused that Jaehaerys aimed to keep YN unwed her whole life. 

“I cannot deny that I have never wished to see YN wed. I am happy with her company and do not in the least want a separation.” Jaehaerys gave YN a tight hug and then turned his gaze to Daemon who did not waver in his glance. “And you must get back to your studies. Perhaps then you will be worthy for her. But I doubt it.”

With that, Jaehaerys dismissed the boy who’s face was red with anger and pride. Daemon collected himself as best a child could and made his way back to his rooms so that he could finish his studies. He would be worthy of YN. He’d show the old King that he’d be a strong man and a worthy match for the most precious princess.

@missglaskin

[ravenstargames]

Hi hi!! DO you do HCs for the LIs? :) If yes could you please make one where the MC is also an artist themselves besides being an art historian; and how the LIs would react to finding that out? :) Thank you, have a nice day! ♡

Yes I do! 💜 You can send any HC scenario to the ask box and I'll do my best to answer asap! Some of them are easier than others, hehe.

Fun fact: Our default MC, River, sometimes draws and paints in their free time, but they do it from an analytical perspective as an art historian, with the objective of studying something rather than as an artistic way of expression, so they wouldn't call themselves an artist. Their mom is, though! 💜

✦ The LIs / ROs finding out the MC is an artist!

✦ Amon: He would act a bit silly when finding out. "You are a master of the arts and you kept it from me?! How cruel of you! What other skills have you that I don't know of?!"

Honestly, he would buy the MCs art and use it to decorate his office, and would often want to commission a piece from them if they felt comfortable doing so. Lover and patron in the same package!

✦ Raeya: She would be expecting it and it would be an 'I knew it' moment for her when she confirms her suspicions. Raeya is very good at analyzing people and would often find traces of the MC's artistic whereabouts on them. Charcoal on their fingers, a droplet of oil painting on their clothes, the smell of clay lingering on their hair, a callus on the finger they hold the pencil with... She would also find watching the MC work to be very relaxing.

✦ Gael: Gael would be ecstatic. He is very fond of sculpting and apart from composing music it is one of his favorite hobbies. It is rare to see him so carefreely excited about something—he would ask a lot of questions, would beg to see the MCs art piece and would want to talk about art in general with the MC. This is for him another sign that the MC is his soulmate.

✦ Envy: They would probably find out by walking on the MC working on a piece. Like the silent ghost he is, they would just stand there watching them, as there's a unique glow about the MC while they focus that draws Envy in. They would prepare some snacks and drinks and bring them to the MC to remind them to rest...and to find an excuse to ask them about what they are doing.

✦ Ara: Becomes the MC's biggest fan and supporter instantly. She would ask the MC to teach her if they were up to it and would make sure they have a spot on her garden to paint or draw outside if they want to! She would often paint something and ask the MC for advice after finding out they are an artist.

✦ Xal: He's a crafty one so he would love to help the MC with supplies by, well, crafting them himself. Whether is it a canvas, paint or tools, he'd make sure the MC always has a bit of everything at hand. He would be too shy to suggest it, but he would intentionally place the MC's things close to his workspace so they can work together.

✦ Father Pride: Just a bit like Raeya, Pride would be expecting it. He would want to know about the MCs inspirations when it comes to creating and would be very interested in watching their process and know about how they perceive the world around them. More than being interested in the act of doing art, he's curious about the intention and thought behind it.

[blushingdread]

When Mylah asked to be in the front line Gael, Gael hadn't even entertained the idea of saying no.

"I want to try a new application of my magic." She said shyly, like she was embarrassed of her diligence with her magic. A slightly blush and smile making her look almost angelic.

She was the smartest in their party and he was completely smitten with her, a frankly horrible combination for his ability to say no to her but it had never backfired before.

As soon as the yes left his mouth Mylah smiled at him like he hung the stars in the sky, immediately wrapping him in a hug and running off to consult her notebook.

The day they went to confront the Bandit King the sun was high and beating down on all of their backs, as they walked into an arena with a skull throne in the middle. A man sat tall on the bones, surrounded in a crescent of his men with the weapons out and ready.

It was going to be a long day.

The Bandit's were among the worst kind of extortionist skum. Forcing the villages they frequented to pay them to not ransack them, and destroying the ones that can't comply. There presence was consistently in each of the villages affected, at least ten men at each, lying that they were there to keep the peace. It made Gael so disgusted, seeing people's lives ruined, seeing mother's going hungry to afford their child's food, all because some assholes decided they should be able to take what they want.

Mylah marched up, stopping only about five sword lengths away from the throne. "Surrender or else." She said, and her words were more confident that he had ever heard them.

"Or else what, sweetheart?" The Bandit King asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll make you wish you were dead." It was cold, clinical even. Like she was explaining the weather, not threatening a man.

The Bandit King laughed. His full body shook with the weight of it, eyes crinkling up with tears, as the man attempted to catch his breath.

It was the most condescending sound Gael had ever heard in his life.

Once the Bandit King finally stopped laughing, he leaned back languidly on his throne of bones.

"How about this, doll face?" Gael wanted to gag. "If you can defeat me in a battle my men will retreat." The King purred after Mylah in a way that made Gael shiver in disgust, but Mylah herself seemed unaffected. If anything, her stance only got more confident and assured.

"So be it." Mylah responded, and if Gael wasn't imagining it, a hint of excitement in her voice.

The Bandit King unsheathed his sword, and sprinted at Mylah, who simply raised her hand magic shining brightly from her palm.

The first thing that happened was the King's eyes fused shut. Gael couldn't see it clearly, but the way man flailed, screamed, and began clawing at his eyes was a good indication.

His mouth sealing shut was more noticeable.

The King closed his mouth and suddenly there was a layer of skin between his two lips, keeping it from opening again. Gael watched in horror as the King attempted to open his mouth and the layer of skin between his lips only got thicker and thicker till it was indistinguishable from the rest of his face.

The King tried to scream.

It went dead half way though.

Gael knew with sickening certainty that the man's throat was fused together. Leaving him incapable of making noise.

A silence washed over everyone present, or maybe Gael lost the ability to hear anything but the man's screams. He couldn't tell the difference, the idea of looking away didn't even cross his mind. The other spectators seemed distant and hazy. Like they didn't exist, and the only real thing in the world was the Bandit King and his flesh binding him still.

As the leader of an adventuring party, that roams the lands fighting monsters and evil men alike, Gael had never understood how someone could be scared still. Scared into freezing, giving up on all of their options, refusing to move. Run away, fight, it doesn't matter. He never could understand how someone just couldn't move.

Until now.

Not a hint of shock touched his mind as the King's hands fused to his face. The thought of what would happen if he was on a horse briefly crossed his mind and he immediately dismissed it. There is no need to think about that.

"Well," Mylah said, coldly with a bit of the sweetness Gael always heard from her. "Since you can't move, or speak," She giggled at that, and Gael was finally struck with the fact that he barely knew her. "Kick your legs to surrender and I'll reverse the process!" Mylah's smile was bright and competitive. Like when she figured out a puzzle, Gael had no clue how she did this without flinching once.

The Bandit King kicked his legs wildly, and that was the end of that conflict. The disbandment was a quick and silent affair, and no one breathed too loudly where Mylah could hear for the next week.

---

"You guys are such babies." Mylah said, rocking back and forth on her heels. "That wasn't even the coolest idea I had. Next time I was gonna keep growing their teeth and other stuff."

Gael looked a bit queasy as she spoke.

"Maybe you should stick to the back..." Gael said, avoiding her eyes. "We should only bring out the big guns if someone is really a problem

Mylah rolled her eyes and nodded in false agreement, and watched as Gael scurried off to who knows where like he's been doing for the last week or so.

"Babies." She muttered under her breath.

This is what she gets for adventuring with a group of people who have never seen a proper undead before.

The rest of your party is always making sure that you, the healer, stay in the back. Not because they don’t want you to get hurt, but because they all still remember the last time you took the front line and nobody wants a repeat of that.