#she's down so bad for the pretty elf man it's sickening

[howdygravytrain]

gravy used to complain about her height until the day she met aymeric de borel UwU

[onbeinganangel]

warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich

not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)

damned if you do it and damned if you don’t

(draco/harry, 1.8k)

Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.

He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.

A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”

Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”

Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.

It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”

It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”

It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”

But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.

Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.

Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.

Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”

He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.

Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.

“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.

And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.

“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.

It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“

Draco tries to move towards the voice.

“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.

“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”

“Harry.” His Harry.

“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.

“I won’t let you.”

Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”

And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.

“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.

Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.

“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.

And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.

He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.

“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.

“But—“

“I know, darling. Me too.”

Darling? Harry… too?

“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.

Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”

[thefandomcassandra]

11 (Alt.): Infection

It was my fucking birthright. It was my goddamn fucking home too. How dare you snatch it away like that?! My fucking sister! My sister and the man I thought loved me. Fucking took everything from me and didn't give a godsdamn.

It

was

my

fucking

gods-given

right.

But there Jolene is, sitting pretty topside as fucking Meemaw of the fucking Crick, while I freeze my godsdamned tits off in the Hells.

In Caïna no less.

(I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry Jolene. I didn't mean for this to happen. Please, take care of them for me. I didn't mean for you to do this alone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.)

Spit in my face while I'm down, huh? Kick me in the fucking ribs while I'm busy dealing with the fallout, yeah?

Ain't that just how it goes? Everything Marabelle has, Jolene wants, and Jolene always gets what she fucking wants.

Bitch. Bitch. Bitch!

Fucking liar! Thief! Traitor! You should be trapped here! Not fucking me!

(No. No. No one should be here, in the coldest parts of the Hells. Not you. Not you, Jolene, and not him neither. You didn't take nothing that wasn't mine in the first place and you know it. Don't feel guilty. Please just live your life. Don't linger. Keep them safe.)

If Jolene wants what Marabelle has, then maybe I'll fucking give it to her. You can fucking well have this.

Coz the one thing I've always been better at than you was mushrooms. And now that's all I am.

Mushrooms and hate.

You want it so bad, little sis? You want everything I've ever had? Then you can fucking have it. Take it all. Every last little bit.

(It's sickening, how easy it is for the anger to fester. Bubble and brew into something horrible. How much of this is me and how much of this is Hellish influence? I was always angry, so I guess it tracks. You were the better of the two of us and I should've realized sooner. You were always the better leader anyway. Much more level-headed.)

And time is fucky here. I've got time to spare. Let's see what nasty things I can cook up while I wait? What all I can dredge up from the sludge to make you suffer, yeah? And when all's said and done, I want you to beg, on your fucking knees, that I take it back. I want you to lick my fucking feet and apoligize for ever being fucking born. Then I'll consider putting you out of your fucking misery.

Only then will I entertain the idea of putting you in the dirt to nourish my children. Only then will I court the thought of ending your godsdamned life.

(If you see me again, it's not gonna be me. It's not gonna be your big sister, who wanted you to be the best you could. It's gonna be this monster of fungus and hate and you're gonna hafta put a bullet in my head and I'm so sorry to force your hand like that. Y'all don't deserve that. Not you, not him, not anyone. But I'm not gonna be me anymore and I can't control that. Please, Jolene, just kill me. Help me by killing me. Jolene, I'm begging you to please just end my life. It'll be better for everyone if you do.)

Hope you like my gift. My preview. Coz that fucking hero thought he did me in but he didn't finish the fucking job. And with Asmodeus dead and gone, I'm home fucking free. So you and every other goddamn fucking elf in the Crick is gonna get a taste of my anger.

But especially you.

I'm gonna personally make sure your lungs are swamped with it.

Fucking teach you to take from me.

It was my goddamn right.

And I'm in the fucking right.

So have fun playing house while you can, lil sis. Coz I'm coming home and I'm bringing hell to your fucking doorstep. Set the table for three: you, me, and the Grim fucking Reaper.

(I'm sorry Jolene. I'm sorry Jolene. I'm sorry Jolene.)

[icedfairy]

I've been reading too many isekai and thus something formed in my brain.  Use or discard it as you desire

-----

"What is your wish?"

What a strange question.  I tried to make sense of it, but my brain was hazy.

"What stats would you like?"

Statistics.  It always came down to statistics didn't it?  

Top tenth percentile in basic math.  20th in the class.

"So that is your wish.  Very well."

I gasped as I sat up.  Where was I?  This wasn't my room.  It was some dank cave.  My ears folded back as I smelled the sickening smell of blood and shit.

Wait, ears?

I reached up to feel my head.  I had fuzzy cat ears.  What the hell?

Was this one of those isekai things?  If so I wanted to talk with the management!  Thinking that would summon them, right?

"These bitches are pretty dense aren't they?"

I leapt to my feet, tail bristling.  Three men sat on a pile of corpses.  One even looked like an oni.  They leered at me.

Was this hell?

3rd place for class representative.  30th in the marathon.

A whimper next to me made me look over.  There was a woman standing there.  An elf woman!  I mean she had to be an elf right?  All the natury clothes and pointy ears.

The man with the staff blinked a few times.  "Level ones.  Fighter and sage.  Level 1 pugilism, level 1 white magic, level 1 nature magic, level 1 endurance.  Elf has special skill eidetic memory.  Cat doesn't have anything."

I'd had about enough of this.  "Who the hell are you?  And why am I here?"

The other human laughed.  "You died and got reincarnated here of course.  Not that it matters.  Since you're gonna die again soon to give us your exp and skills."

So it was an isekai.  But it seemed I wasn't the only one here from Earth.  And my journey was about to end just as it started.

The oni stood up.  "Well you don't have any good skills, so maybe we can try something else.  You ain't half bad looking.  Maybe if you beg us enough you can become our slaves."

"Like hell."

12th place in the regional karate tournament.

I stepped forwards and punched the oni straight in the solar plexus.  He wasn't wearing armor there, so he deserved to be hit right?

The bastard didn't even flinch.  "Hahahaha!  You think your shitty level one ass can hurt me?"

Pain rang through my head.  I was on the ground again.  I hadn't even seen him move.

.1% of an accident getting through the new quality control.

I forced myself to my knees as he towered over me  "I'm level 30!  I have 428 strength.  1892 hit points.  You've got what, 42 hp?"

"43," the man with a staff said.  "Well 5 now."

One in a billion chance I would be the one to eat the affected meat.

A soothing feeling rushed through me and I saw the elf woman was next to me.  "The best I can do," she said quietly.

15% chance of survival.

The oni cracked his knuckles.  "Don't waste all your MP.  You're gonna need some for yourself."

45 million in savings, a maximum settlement of 5 million a person.

It was bullshit.

35 people ill,

I wasn't going to just take this!

3 dead.

I stood up again.  My body felt hot.  An invigorating flame.  The opposite of the sickening fever that had killed me.

The oni snorted.  "What, you wanna break your hand again?  Well maybe I can get you to 1 hp exactly.  Come on bitch.  Show me what your 15 strength can do!"

15 strength?  43 hp?

"My life isn't a set of numbers!" I screamed as I stepped forwards, swinging.

My fist slammed into the oni's throat.  His windpipe crunched as I smashed it.  The massive man toppled to the ground.

"Your hit points can't fix that can they!"

The other two men hopped up.  "How!  That's impossible?  A death skill?"

"No."  The staff wielding man pointed at me.  "It's... Forbidden Skill!  Limit Break!"

Skill?  Fuck that it didn't matter.  I rushed forwards.

The staff man screamed "Fire blast!"  The heat sent me staggering back.

"Cure," yelled the elf, removing my wounds, but I couldn't move forwards.

Then an axe flew out of the darkness slamming into the mage's back.  The flames stopped as he fell to the ground.  The last man shrieked and turned to face the newcomer.

A mountain of plate armor wearing a demon mask walked out of the darkness.  "Well, well.  Isn't this interesting.  One second newbies.  Let me finish off my bounty."

"Wait, I surrender!" The last thug said.  Sure he did.

The armored figure seemed to be similarly skeptical.  "Bounty didn't say anything about needing you alive."  There was the rustling of a chain, and the man yanked the axe back before throwing it again.

There was a splatter of blood.  And that ended my first encounter in the world I'd fallen into after my death.

Purgatory : The world where all humans are reincarnated when they die.  It's a fairly normal fantasy world, if bloody.  As younger humans have passed, certain modern innovations have appeared, but they're slow to disseminate due to the older races holding on to a lot of political power.

MC : Kairi Sanada

Age at death : 17

As someone surrounded by a culture that was obsessed with statuses and rankings, she developed a disdain for numbers.  When she died as the result of an e coli outbreak caused by cost saving practices, he disdain became hatred.  This crystalized into her ability, Limit Break.  A power that lets her ignore the numerical rules the world is formed on.  Naturally this leads to trouble.

Elf : Yikiko Watanabe

Age at death : 84

She passed from alzheimers, causing her to ask for a power that would prevent her from forgetting anything else.  As an elf, her age is fairly young now.  So she slips back and forth between her young persona and her archaic habits.

One of the things that hits me as I read a lot of isekai nonsense (or don't read it because a lot of it is shit that becomes boring 4 chapters in even if the manga is good) is their obsession with stat numbers.  I personally gloss over it, but I understand why.  Big blocks of numbers are an anchor that makes it easy for people to worldbuild with you.  See Harry Potter houses for another example.  Still the idea of existence as a set of numbers, ranks, and adventurer grades (which the stories usually then proceed to work around)

So I thought it'd be interesting to make a series pureluy about "Fuck the numbers.  I am not a number, I am a human being!"

[selkie-elf]

Ring

Read the whole fic in AO3

This is the third chapter in my Taaktiz selkie fic “Song Of The Sea”. Find the warnings in AO3

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I understand. You already know who I am, I introduced myself yesterday, didn’t I ?” Kravitz asked, letting his fur fall all the way down. Before he could even notice Taako’s raising blush, he quickly settled the head of the seal on his lap. It might have been a while, but he remembered well how land creatures reacted to nudity.

“Yeah yeah I know your name and you know mine, but like… what are you? Are you like fairy folk or something. Why… why did you came here? Are you here to drown me?” Taako gulped down the lump in his throat and faced Kravitz again. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. Fear? Comfort? This was just too absurd. Kravitz giggled a bit, seemingly amused by Taako’s blushed face.

“ If I wanted you to drown, I had a perfect chance yesterday. Your mother never told you about selkies?” Kravitz asked, settling his hands on to his lap. Taako’s ear flinched at the word, but his expression didn’t change. “Not really. Me and momma didn’t really get along to be honest” Taako sighed. Kravitz noticed how the elves tail started to draw slow circles around. “But it seems you are familiar with the story?” “ My brother-in-law told me a bit. Beautiful people who can turn into seals,right?” Taako said and threw a fishbone to the waters below. Kravitz almost jumped after it, before realizing that he would only make himself look like a fool.

“Yeah. That’s like the basics” Kravitz said, nudging himself a bit closer to Taako, when he noticed that the elf had taken another fish from the basket and started to gut it.

“ So, what does mister “in reality I’m a greedy seal who likes to hang around near dangerous fishing nets” does on my deck? Are here just to beg for free fish?” Taako raised an eyebrow and threw a fish to Kravitz. Even in his human form the selkie still catched the fish with his mouth. Taako let out a small laugh when the man grabbed the fish like puppy would grab a ball his owner had just thrown at him. He took a gently bite of the raw fish. It seemed that even in his human form, his teeth were still the same sharp teeths of his other form.

“ I should ask that question from you. Like I’m pretty sure that you didn’t just call me to offer me free fish, though I’m not complaining” Kravitz smiled and took another bite. Taako could hear the sickening crunch of small bones as Kravitz continued with his meal. “And what do you mean by that? I think you can drop the “oh I’m a magical creature, wow at my presence”-act. I’d just like some answers” Taako groaned, feeling the blood drip down his hands. “ You cried seven tears in to sea. You called me and… it’s my duty to answer a call” there was a sense of hesitation in Kravitz’s voice. “And then you almost drowned and of course I had to help you but I know that wasn’t the only thing I need to do” “ So, you are here to help? With what?” Taako asked. Kravitz’s shoulders tensed up a bit. “ Well. I don’t know…” “ That’s okay. I don’t mind you hanging out near our deck, but please be careful. Sazed has nets all around, it would be a shame to find you one one day, all tangled up and drowned” Taako said calmly, concentrating on the fish.

Kravitz felt lost. Taako just sat quietly splashing his toes in the water, not even looking at him. An awkward silence rain over the two men as they just stared at the black water below them.

“So you have a husband?” Kravitz broke the silence. “Yeah. For a while now” Taako answered. “Was he the one that came look for you last night?” “Yeah. That’s Sazed”

“ Are you happy?”

Taako’s hands stopped. Kravitz gathered his fur around his hands, ready to jump to the sea. The knife in Taako’s hand looked sharp, making the scar on his back ache with a bad memory.

“I think. I’m not sure. I… we at least were happy” Taako dropped the knife by his side. The wedding ring on his finger was stained. He had not bothered to take it off for so long. Taako knew that if he took it off, he would see the beautiful carving of their wedding day and Sazed’s name inside the ring.

***

Their wedding had been nice and small. Not that many people had even been invited. Magnus with his wife, Barry, and even a rare sight, a Taako’s relative, Aunt Orchid with her two children had arrived to the wedding. The children had trouble staying in their seats while aunt Orchid had just watched the ceremony, not once putting out her pipe. In the end, most of the seats had been taken by Sazed’s friends. But Taako hadn’t mind it. It was still positive attention. And that surely was what he had needed. Sazed’s friends had cheered and clapped as the newlyweds had read the vows to each other in front of the priest. Sazed had looked handsome in his black suit, and for once in his life he had combed his hair. Taako had felt beautiful in his white dress, with a crown made of lupines on his hair. A much wanted change for the black skirt he had worn for the last couple of months.

“I do”, Taako had said. And he had not lied. That moment, Taako had truly believed that he would love Sazed forever. And when Sazed had leaned closer to kiss him, Taako had truly felt loved. They had made a promise to each other to stand by their side. Taako loved him. Taako loved him so much. He had already helped him through so much, and when Sazed had dropped to the his knee and promised to buy him a house on top of the hill, he had no other option than to say yes. He didn’t want to say anything else than “Yes”

Magnus had cried through the ceremony, sobbing uncontrollably with Julia patting him on the back. Taako was happy to see a small smile on Barry’s face when he had wiped away the corner of his eyes as he silently clapped. The children had been more interested in the table full of goodies that was waiting for the wedding guests.

Food had been, of course, Taako’s own cooking, and amazing as ever. Magnus and Julia had asked if Taako would be willing to do catering to their wedding as well and Taako had happily accepted offer.

Aunt Orchid had proceeded to complain about their choice of priest. A dirty, hippie looking fella with mud under his fingernails in her opinion was not a fitting choice for such a ceremony. Even when Taako had tried to explain that mister Highchurch was their friend and he much rather had his marriage blessed by a friend than a stranger Orchid had just turned her nose up and muttered something how she was not surprised that others of their family had not shown up. Taako really had wanted to shout something mean about hoping that none of them had shown up, but Sazed had asked him to dance.

While they had danced their wedding waltz, Barry had disappeared somewhere. Taako didn’t even realize it at first. His head was already spinning so much from the dancing and the alcohol, that one guest missing had hardly even passed his thoughts. Only when the others had joined the dance floor, giving Taako a good moment to rest his feet for a moment, had he noticed his brother in law missing. Magnus was too busy being spun in the air by Julia and Merle was in middle of a conversation with Orchid, which neither of them really seemed to enjoy. Taako looked around for awhile, before seeing the similar silhouette sitting in the shore.

“What the fuck are you doing now Barold?” Taako whispered to himself before starting to walk towards him. Taako knew that Barry wasn’t the biggest fan of big social gatherings, maybe he had just needed a breather? A small voice in Taako’s head however suggested a much worse scenario.

“How’s it going? Wanna go dancing?” Taako smiled. He would have sat next to Barry but he had not wanted his beautiful dress to get dirty.

“Oh Taako. Sorry. I just needed some time. I’ll be back soon”, Barry muttered. Taako sighed and patted Barry on the back.

“If you want to go to take a nap, there is a bed in the guestroom. You’ve drank quite a lot Barold” he said. Barry’s shoulders quietly trembled under his hands and his hand was holding his necklace close to his heart.

“ Do… do you think if I had proposed she would have said yes?” Barry whimpered, staring at his feet, avoiding Taako as much as he could.

“I’m sure she would have carried you down the aisle immediately”, Taako answered. He tried to keep his voice nice and even. This was his day. Last two ceremonies that he had attended had been in honor of his sister. They had been ceremonies to cry about her. This was supposed to be his day. His day to be happy.

“ She would have looked beautiful”, Barry sighed. Taako nodded. Yeah sure they had had plans. A double wedding. Both Taako and her throwing their bouquets at the same time. They would have celebrated and been so loud that their happiness could be heard all the way from mainland. They would have so happy.

So what? Plans had changed. Taako still wanted to be happy.

“Okay Barry. You know what? Sit here as long as you want. Come back when you are not making me sad anymore” Taako said dismissively and started to walk away, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.

“Taako, I didn’t mean…”

“Well then what the hell was your objective!? I’ve spent last half a year wallowing in my sorrow. Yes she is fucking gone and you were to much of a coward to ask her to marry you. That’s not my fault! Fucking let me be happy!” Taako’s hand fisted on his wedding dress as he tried to calm his breath.

“ Do you really think Lup would had wanted us to cry about her death on my wedding day? This is my fucking day. Don’t ruin it for me!”

***

“Taako?”

Taako flinched under the sudden touch. His fingers were still wrapped around the wedding ring, tear flowing slowly from his eyes.

“Oh my gods, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I- I shouldn’t have asked! It’s just that usually when people call for selkies, they... “ Kravitz started to ramble, clumsily wiping Taako’s face with the back of his hand. Taako’s hands grabbed the selkie’s wrist gently. A small smile crept on to Taako’s face as he placed one Kravitz’s hands on his own cheek.

“It’s okay. It’s just..it’s been awhile since I have thought about that day” Taako sniffed. “I’m sorry Taako, I didn’t want you to feel bad” Kravitz whispered, leaning just an inch closer. “ It’s okay. But going back to your original question...I’m not sure. I can tell you the day I fell in love with him. I could tell you how much I did love him. It’s much more harder to pinpoint the day that I...didn’t anymore.” Now Taako found Kravitz’s hands gently combing his hair. It was something that Sazed had done a lot after Lup’s death. A familiar feeling of comfort and safeness.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked carefully, when the elves breaths had started to become steadier again. The elves grip on his wrist had started to ease, before he finally dropped his hands by his sides. “ Taako. I want you to know that… I’m here to help. I don’t know how to, yet...but I’ll be here” Kravitz’s voice was calm and gentle. Sincere. Taako wanted to believe him. “Okay” Taako sniffed, leaning his head to Kravitz’s bare chest. He could hear Kravitz’s pulse starting to raise, as the selkie’s hands wrapped around his back. “I’ll have to go soon. Is it okay if I visit in the evening?” Kravitz asked, drawing slow circles on Taako’s back. “No, Sazed will be home. He is leaving tomorrow morning. He wants us to spent the evening together” Taako muttered. Kravitz nodded lifting Taako’s chin up with his thumb and index finger. “ Would the night be okay then?” he asked. Taako smiled, bit unsure “ I think that I can make up a lie to excuse myself for a nightly walk. I’ll bring the storm lantern. If Sazed wants to come with me, I won’t bring the lantern ” Taako explained, nudging himself from Kravitz’s embrace. “I’ll keep that in mind” Kravitz said, gathering his fur around his body again. “But you’ll come back, promise? I still want to know more about mister sharp teeth” Taako asked, reaching for the knife again. He knew that any minute, Sazed could come back home, and he still had a lot to do. Kravitz nodded, almost bowing his head to Taako. “I promise”

Kravitz pulled the hood of his fur over his head. Taako watched in awe as the seals eyes, that had been empty just a second ago, were now filled with the golden glimmer. And in a loud splash, he was gone.

[matazz]

entries

diary entries of roy endoza

here’s some journal entries of roy endoza that i wrote for the duration of the campaign. for the most part, i kinda wrote these in my twitter drafts just to write down roy’s thoughts. sometimes to remember events that happened, and sometimes just to vent out roy’s feelings to myself. i ended up saving these on a document for safe keeping and i’m glad i wrote these.

‪entry 47‬

‪i miss milo so much. his laugh, his eyes, his smile. i would do anything to have that back.‬ ‪i know its my fault he’s gone. its only been a few months, but i’ll fix that; all of it. no matter how long it takes, no matter what happens. i’ll find some way to do it.‬ ‪entry 53‬ ‪i’ve retrieved a letter from a dream telling me to visit latham and retrieve a key. i’m curious, so i’ll check it eventually. it was definitely odd.‬ ‪entry 55‬ ‪i met a young boy. his name is fox. he’s some sort of shapeshifter. he’s quiet, but his presence is nice company. he also received a similar letter to mine. i have a feeling we’ll be travelling for a while.‬ ‪entry 62‬ ‪we retrieved the key & met some other ppl with letters too. we’re heading to a trinket store back in origin now. i dont wish for them to know of my life so i’ve found a way to steer them as far from possible to finding out about myself. i’ll probably visit ma too.‬ ‪entry 63‬ ‪an elf woman named leera attacked us after i told her i wasnt going to give her this key. i dont like her. she seemed very cocky.‬ ‪entry 65‬ ‪delilah is kind.. i feel like i’m able to trust her. i asked her a question about my goals, vaguely, and it turns out that ayce asked a similar question. based on the message in his later i get the feeling he’s undead.‬ ‪entry 66‬ ‪i told ayce the biggest con in all of history.. but i confirmed he’s undead. i have more hope in my goals now that i know its possible. he hugged me bc he thinks we’re similar. i dont usually allow people to do that but i’m sad for him. i wish i could ask more about him. ‬‪entry 69‬ ‪i’m getting closer to ayce, unexpectedly, but good for me. i need his information.‬ ‪he talks to me a lot about his life; i think he’s become dependent on me which is easy for me. its hard for him to see i’m using him when i lie to his face.‬ ‪entry 72‬ ‪we’re travelling to copper coast now for another key. if it werent for ayce, i wouldnt see any other reason for me to come. fox is still around, but i feel like he's doing his own thing. the other two arent big presences for me to care about.‬ ‪entry 73‬ ‪atlas is a werewolf? i didnt think those were real. this group keeps getting stranger. first a shapeshifter, second an actual living zombie, third a werewolf.‬ ‪ive continued my lie to the rest of them. they all seem to have believed me, strangely enough‬ ‪entry 74‬ ‪copper coast was very pleasant. i wish to come back someday.‬ ‪entry 88‬ ‪this trip to clandesteine has been a disaster.. what the honest fuck‬ just happened ‪entry 90‬ ‪fox told everybody about himself, finally. i feel this huge sense of pride?? i’m very proud of him. i dont understand why i feel so attached to him but i adore him so much‬ ‪entry 92‬ ‪((incoherent scribbles, kinda like “vsdjfsasifwnqkosdkv”)) i think i accidentally implied to ayce that i love him romantically and i think he loves me too... i’m freaking out and i dont know how to react... i think he thinks i’m cool and romantic but i didnt mean to be. ‪entry 93‬ in all honesty, i just wanted to tell him he needs to be more cautious of me. a part of me wishes he could figure it out himself so i dont have to tell him. ‪seriously! i dont know how i did that! i do love and adore him too but i feel like shit.. i dont deserve him, especially considering who i am. on the other hand, i hope he never finds out the truth about me.‬ ‪entry 94‬ ‪oh my god. atlas killed a man and ayce and fox proceeded to tell the guards. i feel sick. i’m currently at home but if they say my name at witness testimony i’m royally fucked. i dont know. i might just run for it and live in myr’s peak. maybe no one will find me.‬ ‪entry 95‬ ‪the group managed to get bailed out using ty’s name. benefits of being friends with rich people?‬ ‪fox found my poster though, so he saved my name during eyewitness testimony. i told him the truth. its been the first time i told someone how i really felt. he wants me to tell ayce but hes the last person i can tell. ‪entry 97‬ ‪we’re in lunarden! it feels nostalgic to be back.

i want to go back to every place i miss. i took ayce to that me and nori used to go to back in high school. i think shes currently performing in solardome? i miss her‬ entry 97.2 ‪i came up with a few different ways to complete my goal. i have a few more probing questions, but i will have to ask later. i think i’m getting closer to the answers‬ entry ‪97.3‬ ((scribbled out)) ‪i havent had sex in a while. i’ve wondered this before but realized it was an inappropriate question to ask. i wonder if ayce’s dick works? it probably doesnt. this is so sad. i dont know how i’m going to fuck him if thats true.. yikes‬ ‪entry 98‬ ‪i’m planning to get completely smashed once we get to solardome. i feel like i deserve it.. ive been pretty stressed and havent got laid. i’m crying remembering that ayce might not even be an option.‬ ‪entry 98.2 ((lost)) ‪i love ayce so much, and its confusing. am i just sexually frustrated? am i just lonely? am i just sad? i feel guilty because it tears me apart. im confused because i love milo still, too. i know i should tell him the truth, its whats right but i know he’ll hate me. i dont know what to do. (extra note inbetween the pages, torn out: to mom. i love you venhfrhdy mcuh. thank you fir everhything. yes. roy.) entry 98.3 what happens if i succeed? i hope ayce doesnt kill me. entry 100 ‪good morning. ayce & i are officially dating. were in solardome atm; i dont remember much of last night but i remember thinking he‘s beautiful. is it wrong to fall for him?‬ ‪entry 101‬ ‪good evening. i saw ms winters. she was undead, just like ayce. she died a year ago. her soul was lost though. i killed what remained of her undead corpse. i assume she was trying to remain in this world.. i’m scared that this will happen to him too. maybe ill have to do the same to him. entry 101.2 i hope ayce's soul is able to sustain in his body for longer. i cant afford to lose him. entry 101.3 ‪the blackness on my fingers has risen up more than it has before. its almost hard to write with my hands anymore. i assume its bc the gods know what i'm doing & are against it, so they're trying to give me more recoil than usual. but the last time i killed an undead corpse was in my house 6 months ago, and i promise that the last time i will use it is when i bring milo back. (torn note inbetween the pages: hi ayce. its unrealistic you'll ever find this but there's some things i want to say. back when we first met, i lied to you as a reflex when you asked me why i'm dealing with necromancy. to be honest, i could kind of gather you were undead, but i still lied anyway. my story is personal, its hard for me to be honest. i know i'm an idiot, and i'm sorry i used you. to be truthful, i still am a horrible person and for the entirety of our relationship i've already known that i was using you and i've felt so guilty about that. my feelings are complicated, but i've never lied when i said i loved you, and i still do; but i still want to bring milo back. i made a mistake and i want to fix that. the truth is that i still love him too. i know you deserve better. i'm sorry about lying to you. roy) entry 102 a dragon made us experience our dreams and nightmares. jade's scared of blindness and bugs. a valid fear, in a way. and she was dreaming of doing shows. i think it was supposed to display a feeling of happiness and joy, but it was just spooky since we all experienced her dreams with no sound. i never realized how scary it was to be deaf until i experienced it. atlas' was morbid. people were dying and there was so much gore. then there were people saying they owned him. i knew he was a bad person but it was scary to see all of that again. he dreamt of a workshop with a girl and a young boy. it seemed sweet, with a tinge of nostalgia. i would have never expected him to have dreams. he just seems like a horrible person with no sympathy to me, but i guess he has feelings. i still think he should go to jail, but i feel like he'll just try to kill me if i say anything instead. fox's was sad. we got thrown into a void

of empty space where we were surrounded only by dopplegangers and a vaguely humanoid figure. he seemed so lonely and upset. he's scared of being forgotten by us and that made me so sad. i adore him, and he's grown a lot since we first met. i gave him a hug when we went into his dream sequence. i hope he knows i will never forget him. his dream was sweet. he just wants to save people and hang out with us still. i think he'll go far, and i would love to be there for him still when all of this is over.c (the rest of the pages with entry 102 are torn out) when i saw milo in the old house again just being his happy lovely self i felt miserable and happy at the same time. i love him so much, and i knew i missed him already but seeing him again just made me feel so much love for him all over again. it just makes me miss him more. it's hard not to cry thinking about what i've done to him. i wish he could come back. ayce's was hard to watch. i witnessed myrkul force ayce to choose between killing me and quri. ayce cried as he couldn't make up his mind, and then i watched as i fell into a void. i felt sick and i wanted to puke. i thought ayce found out about me. i thought he knew that i was using him for necromancy, but when i asked him about it, he told me that he thought i killed him with quri. i... personally don't have any reason to ever kill him so that was a bit sickening to think of. i dont ever want to kill anyone. i dont even have anyone i hate enough to want to murder. the only person i hate enough to want to kill is me. i know based on what i said before i guess it might have seemed that bad; but haha... i would never ever want to do that. putting people down at hospital was rough. god, putting ms winters down was rough and she was already dead. i love him, but it's probably better if we end the relationship and just stay as friends? he's already witnessed me still loving milo, and he thinks i murdered him... i'll try to clear up his misunderstanding, but it'll be hard to without giving more of myself away. this relationship has so many problems. entry 103 a new discovery. the world isn't flat? the god's are using their powers to “lock off” the rest of the world. apparently sanctuary is only a small part of the world. that was a really weird discovery to find out? it's kind of hard to believe, but at the same time, not. apparently they keys we've been collecting hold the respective power of the gods, and they're used to “open” the gateway. i have no idea what that means. apparently beshaba wants to use our keys to do exactly that. and also they can kill the god's? entry 112 when we came back to lunarden we discovered that delilah and allen were kidnapped by atlas’ syndicate. i knew atlas was trouble. i hate having to associate with him. we’re going to save them yet it makes me nervous. entry 114 i feel like i almost died in there. we saved the others and no one was hurt though. we’re going to trip back to lunarden and then travel through the travel gates back to origin to try avoid people. allen mentioned something about strange readings. i have a feeling i know what it is. i’m going to ask lathandar questions. entry 115 nvm we encountered leera. this group genuinely scares me. I’m travelling with people who are down with murder. i should seperate. she uncovered my posters to them and i want to die. she also mentioned the last key at a ball. i need to bounce. lathandar also confirmed my suspicions last night. entry 116 fox left before i could. i feel bad. like maybe it was my fault. i miss him. we have to continue though. entry 117 its so hard to find a bag of holding. i just want to have this spirit stone around without having it in the open. entry 118 we’re in origin now and delilah let me rent out her bag of holding. an absolute kind soul. we bought tickets to the ball. so expensive. i wish i didnt do that. entry 123 i’ve done so much in preperation of whats to come. Soon. i hope it works. i’m going to travel to solardome and investigate those readings. entry 124 suspicions

confirmed. miss winters is alive. she captured my biological father. a strange way to meet him. i cant see him as my father. i told her about the key, and we’re going to rearrange our circle. we’ll still use the spirit stones, just as a backup. i’m scared. i’m terrified. i dont know if it will work and i dont know what will happen if it does. i know the gods will be mad but i’ll deal with the consequences when it happens. i’m sure i won’t be a champion anymore. we’re doing this on friday evening, which means i’m no longer attending the gala. they don’t need my assistance anyway.

[setepenre-set]

@elf-kid2 asked for Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue chapter 4 for the DVD commentary meme!

Megamind stops breathing, pressing himself back into the corner of the couch automatically, thinking for a horrible, sickening half-second that Minion was right after all, that this is a trick, all a trick; Roxanne only asked him here tonight so that Metro Man—her boyfriend; he should have known it was too good to be true, what Roxanne said about her and Metro Man not really being together, should have know that this was a trap, but—

But then he looks over at Roxanne who looks—aghast, actually, at hearing Metro Man’s voice. And then her expression morphs into something furious as she glares at the apartment door.

This is the moment where Megamind begins to allow himself to trust Roxanne.

“Are you serious right now, Wayne?” Roxanne says loudly. “What are you doing here; go away!”

Megamind stays perfectly still, trying to breathe silently, wishing his heart wasn’t beating so loud, and watches Roxanne’s face.

Wow, she’s—really mad; Megamind’s glad she’s not looking at him like that, no matter how gorgeous she is with her eyes snapping and her chin up and her lips and cheeks flushed with anger.

I’ve always loved the concept of “you’re beautiful when you’re angry” as a line, but not the way it’s almost always used in things, with the male love interest being deliberately irritating/insulting to the female main character and then saying “you’re beautiful when you’re angry” in a way that mocks and dismisses her--ignores the force and power of her anger by telling her that she’s ‘pretty’. 

It is the force and power of Roxanne’s anger that Megamind finds beautiful.

Roxanne watches Megamind’s face. His expression is one wide-eyed shock, now, but that’s much better than the wide-eyed terror that she saw on his face when he first heard Wayne’s voice, much better than the expression that followed the terror: for a moment, he’d looked—betrayed and disappointed and not surprised at all.

And Roxanne knows exactly what he must have been thinking, knows he must have assumed the worst when Metro Man showed up to their date.

(it catches Roxanne off guard, how much she wants for Megamind to trust her, how much that split-second expression of unsurprised disappointment on his face actually hurts.)

She’s beginning to understand that she really cares about Megamind, that she really cares what he thinks about her and feels about her.

(also, this is. not a date. obviously. obviously not a date.)

ahahahaha yep. there she goes again, thinking about it like a date and only catching herself afterwards.

“But—but I’m here to pick you up for the party,” Wayne says from the other side of the door and this is it, this is the last goddamn straw.

“I am not going to your mother’s party with you, Wayne,” Roxanne says. “I am not going anywhere with you. I’ll tell you where you can go, though—”

“But you said that you would!”

“Wh—no I did not!” Roxanne says. “I hung up on you when you asked! It doesn’t get much more ‘no’ than that!”

“But you didn’t say no,” Wayne says, voice sulky. “I just figured you were mad.”

Wayne wanted the answer to be “yes”, so he went ahead and assumed it was “yes”.

“Mad does not even begin to cover it!” Roxanne says, “You had just told me that you weren’t coming with me to my step-sister’s wedding because you didn’t feel like it; oh my god, Wayne, fuck entirely off! ‘Dating’ you was the worst mistake of my life; seven years of sexual dissatisfaction and this is what I get?”

Roxanne hears Megamind make a choking noise beside her on the couch.

“Roxy!” Wayne says, sounding scandalized. “Your neighbors are listening!”

Wayne is very attached to his Metro Man image of perfection, and to what he sees as the standards of “good behavior”. 

“‘Dating’ you was the worst mistake of my life!” Roxanne shouts at full volume, “Seven years of sexual dissatisfaction!”

Megamind makes another choking noise, this one more like smothered laughter. When she looks over at him, he has his free hand over his mouth, but his eyes are dancing with amusement.

Roxanne is really enjoying making Megamind laugh.

“Roxy! Roxy, let me inside; let’s—talk about this—privately—”

“Seven years!” Roxanne shouts, “seven very. long. years!”

Megamind snickers silently.

“Roxy—”

“You never made me come even once!” Roxanne shouts, watching Megamind’s face, wanting to see if she can keep him laughing.

It works; his eyes go wide, his face blushes behind his hand, and his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. Roxanne grins in spite of the fact that she’s still pretty angry.

(it is, of course, true that Wayne has never made her come, although it’s not true in the way her neighbors will be thinking if they really are listening. Oooh, Roxanne hopes they are; she wants Wayne to squirm.)

Roxanne winks at Megamind, her heartbeat picking up—this is—this is fun, the two of them sharing a secret joke like this.

She winks at him; she is such a flirt and she isn’t even flirting consciously.

“I’m coming around to the balcony,” Wayne says and Roxanne feels her eyes go round with horror, Megamind’s face mirroring the expression.

“What—no!” Roxanne shouts, “Wayne, do not come around to the balcony—”

But he doesn’t answer, and—shitshitshit—Roxanne jumps up from the couch, pulling Megamind to his feet, trying to shove him towards the stairs—

“Bedroom; hide in the bedroom—” Roxanne hisses as Megamind pulls her hand in the other direction.

“No, no, watch!” Megamind says in a frantic undertone.

And Roxanne’s about to snap watch what? when Megamind snatches the wristwatch up from the coffee table and straps it on his wrist and—yeah, that’s probably a better plan—

Roxanne forgot about the disguise watch. She is so into this “pretending to date Megamind” thing--that she kind of isn’t very focused on the fact that he’s supposed to be someone else.

“Megamind,” Wayne says, and Roxanne looks over to her balcony door to see him standing in one of his stupider Heroic Poses.

Roxanne’s critical sarcasm when she’s annoyed is so enjoyable.

Beside Roxanne, Megamind—freezes.

There are several seconds of silent stillness.

And that’s—odd; Megamind tends to respond quickly to actual threats. Roxanne looks over at him in confusion, sees the carefully neutral way he’s holding himself, sees the way he’s watching her—why is he—?

“Should have known you were behind this!” Wayne declares.

heh, Wayne is basically playing this scene alone so far--Roxanne never cooperates and takes her damsel cues, and now Megamind’s not taking his villain cues either.

And Megamind still doesn’t respond right away, doesn’t taunt Wayne about how Roxanne actually invited him, doesn’t gloat or make insinuations, and Roxanne realizes abruptly that—

He’s trying to give her a chance to respond first, to decide which way to play this.

Megamind is starting to think of this as separate and different from any of their damsel/villain interactions. Roxanne yelling at Wayne and making Megamind laugh and winking at him--all that has started to make him see that this is...really very different, and it’s only the damsel/villain thing that he feels he needs to take the lead in. Now that he feels he’s allowed to give Roxanne a choice, he definitely wants to, definitely wants to do this right, to do what she wants.

She realizes it a moment too late, though; Megamind pulls her in front of himself, one arm around her waist and the de-gun, suddenly, in his other hand, pressed to her temple.

When she doesn’t indicate what she wants, he assumes that he should definitely deflect any and all blame from her. So he pretends he’s kidnapping her.

“It looks like Miss Ritchi’s best efforts to break your heart for your own good were all in vain,” Megamind says with an evil laugh that sounds only slightly forced. “You’ve fallen right into my trap!”

Not a bad line, considering he’s improvising all this completely.

Metro Man looks around the apartment suspiciously, searching for the alleged trap—the entirely nonexistent alleged trap, but what Metro Man doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Quite literally won’t hurt him in this case, ha ha ha, ohhh Megamind is so fucked and this is going to be painful—

I was quite pleased at that turn of phrase: What Metro Man doesn’t know won’t hurt him--quite literally won’t hurt him in this case.

(worth it, he thinks, remembering Roxanne’s fingers laced with his, remembering her hand on his wrist, remembers her telling him to stay. definitely entirely worth it.)

He is so very in love with her.

“My trap which—should be springing at any moment,” Megamind says, letting some of his nerves creep into his voice; if he plays this right, Metro Man should just assume that the ‘trap’ had malfunctioned…

Ah, yes, there’s that smug heroic smirk; the idiot’s bought it.

This is really quite a clever move on Megamind’s part--it means that he won’t have to come up with a reason for why there’s no real evil plot. Fake a malfunction!

“Sorry, Megamind,” Metro Man says, “looks like the spring is out of your step.”

(banter! trap should be springing--spring out of your step)

“Nonsense! Hope springs eternal!” Megamind declares, a little distracted by the memory of Roxanne’s hand on his wrist, by the reality of her in his arms now.

Shit, that doesn’t sound evil at all, hope springing eternal.

“Evil! Evil hope!” Megamind says, “Springs eternal! It just. Pops right up out of the ground. Like. Daffodils. Fuck!”

Poor, stressed-out, flustered Megamind, trying so hard to be convincingly evil, and failing at it even more obviously than usual.

To his consternation, Roxanne makes a smothered noise of amusement.

“Daffodils of—of evil! And—and pain! And—springtime allergy season! Stop laughing, Miss Ritchi!”

He’s so cute! And trying so hard! And not convincingly evil at all!

Roxanne chokes down her laughter—daffodils of evil; oh Megamind—and leans her weight back against him.

“It’s okay,” she says, tipping her head back and sideways to look at him, “it’s okay, Megamind; you can stop now.”

All she mostly sees is the line of his jaw; for a very confusing moment, she has the oddest urge to press her lips to it, and then he turns his head to look at her and—wow, he is really close. And. Yes. Very—very close.

Megamind got flustered about holding her, and now we get to see Roxanne getting flustered over that, too.

Then he lets go of her and steps away, sliding the de-gun back into the holster on his thigh.

He immediately does as she wishes. This whole fake dating thing for Megamind is really quite--he thinks of it a bit like knight errantry, actually: Roxanne is the maiden with a problem who he’s being allowed to serve. He’s such a romantic.

Wayne’s eyes dart between the two of them in obvious confusion.

“…are you going to come quietly?” he asks, the manly boom of his voice somewhat spoiled by the note of perplexity.

“Oh, fuck off, Wayne; he’s not going anywhere with you, either,” Roxanne says crossly.

Wayne is trying to keep this scene Dramatic and Heroic, and Roxanne brings it down to earth hard with “oh, fuck off, Wayne.”

Wayne and Megamind both shoot her looks of surprise—Megamind actually looks more shocked than Wayne, which is saying something.

“But—but he was kidnapping you!” Wayne says.

“No,” Roxanne says, “he wasn’t. He—unlike you, might I add—was actually invited here tonight.”

“Invited,” Wayne repeats.

“Yeah,” Roxanne says, “invited.”

“You invited him,” Wayne says.

“Yeah,” Roxanne says flatly, “I did.”

“Have you been feeling confused, lately, Roxy?” Wayne asks, looking at Megamind suspiciously. “Maybe you have a headache—or there’s a funny noise—or you drank something that tasted weird—or something?”

Wayne is not having an easy time accepting that they really aren’t going to play his game any more. And--although he is a huge jerk at this point in the story--he is actually concerned for Roxanne.

Megamind clearly catches the insinuation right away; his eyes narrow and his mouth goes flat.

“Oh fuck you,” he snaps, crossing his arms in front of his body, “I don’t do things like that.”

To Megamind, this is basically the worst possible thing that someone could imply about him. His response isn’t anything like villainous banter, it’s just angry and deeply offended.

“I invited him,” Roxanne says loudly, “because he is going to do me a favor, Wayne. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Wayne scoffs. Roxanne has to suppress the urge to throw something at him.

“You were the one who gave me the idea, actually, Wayne,” Roxanne says with poisonous sweetness. She raises her eyebrows, “Didn’t you suggest I take someone else to my stepsister’s wedding?”

Roxanne is mad about him implying that about Megamind, too. She’s letting Wayne know that he’s very much been replaced by Megamind.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Wayne bursts into laughter. Out of the corner of her gaze, Roxanne sees Megamind flush dully, sees him lift his chin like he’s forcing himself not to drop his eyes in shame and Roxanne’s anger flares again, bright and incandescent, because this is not fucking funny.

Wayne must notice the way she’s glaring at him, because he stops laughing.

“You—aw, come on, Roxy, be real!” he says, “you can’t take him to meet your family. I mean—look at him.”

Roxanne does, makes a point of looking Megamind up and down (his face is turned away from hers; he doesn’t meet her eyes).

“I don’t see anything wrong with him,” Roxanne says.

She means this. 

Megamind turns his head sharply, looking at her, a lavender blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, an expression of utter shock on his face, his eyes round and his lips parted.

This is, quite possibly, the best compliment that Megamind has ever been given. She doesn’t see anything wrong with him. To Megamind, who feels that he’s nothing but wrong, this is--terribly shocking and extremely meaningful. The fact that it’s Roxanne saying it makes it even more shocking and so much more meaningful.

(He looks like he’s just been slapped across the mouth, or kissed when he wasn’t expecting it)

The fact that his reaction to being kissed looks a bit like a reaction to being struck--to be so unused to being treated affectionately that it almost hurts when someone does treat you with affection. And Roxanne’s subconscious is already very interested in what Megamind would look like after he’s been kissed.

“Roxy,” Wayne says, and Roxanne forces herself to look away from Megamind, “he’s a supervillain. You can’t take a supervillain home with you.”

And, okay, maybe that’s a fair point; Roxanne knows that her mother would flip if Roxanne brought Megamind, the supervillain who has kidnapped her for years, to Laura’s wedding—which is why the disguise watch is necessary!

It is very interesting to note that the only thing stopping Roxanne from pretending to date actual Megamind is the thought of her mother’s reaction. Roxanne doesn’t feel like it’s that implausible of an idea, and doesn't see anything wrong with the idea in and of itself. 

She opens her mouth to tell Wayne that, and then a thought occurs—

—Megamind probably uses the disguise watch, doesn’t he, for—supervillainy things. And maybe that should make Roxanne want to tell Wayne about the watch, but—

(that split-second look of resigned disappointment on Megamind’s face when he thought she led him into a trap—Roxanne never wants him to look at her like that again)

And really, like Wayne needs any more advantages against Megamind. Please. Wayne has invulnerability, eye lasers, superspeed, and he can fly. Roxanne can let Megamind keep a secret holographic watch.

“Lucky for you, Wayne,” Roxanne says, “you don’t need to worry about my family. Megamind and I will manage this just fine. Thanks.”

Roxanne is proving again that Megamind can trust her.

Megamind is still staring at her, looking shocked.

“…are you doing this because you want me to say I’ll come to the wedding with you?” Wayne asks.

Megamind’s expression goes shuttered at that, like he might actually believe that, like he—

“No,” Roxanne says forcefully. “I am not doing this to get you to do anything, Wayne. Because this is not about you at all. Shockingly, Wayne, not everything is about you.”

A fact that Wayne really needs to realize.

“So that’s it, then,” Wayne says, “Megamind is—what, your new fake boyfriend?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Roxanne says, swearing to herself that after this is over with, she is going to go on a real, actual, not-fake date like a reasonable and totally non-crazy adult person who is in no way going to die alone and get eaten by her nonexistent cats.

Just—she just has to get through this wedding.

Again, Roxanne hasn’t really had very fun experiences with dating. Her swearing to herself that she’ll go on a real date after this is about feeling like she needs to appear “normal” rather than anything that will actually make her happy.

“And you’re really not coming to the party tonight,” Wayne says, as if this is some sort of terrible betrayal on her part.

“No, Wayne,” Roxanne says, “I’m not.”

Wayne clears his throat and nods stiffly, clenching his jaw—the clear image of a Strong Man Stoic in the Face of Rampant Female Treachery.

I do so love that description; Roxanne is so wonderfully caustic.

And then he shifts his stance to Metro Man’s Stupid Heroic Pose Number Three.

“Well,” he says, “I hate to crash your party, Roxy—but I’m going to have to take your boyfriend here in all the same.”

Megamind twitches slightly at that, hearing Metro Man say your boyfriend to Roxanne about him in that mocking tone.

(as if the very idea is ridiculous, and it is ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean he wants it thrown in his face)

Megamind might still feel like that idea is ridiculous, but we’ve already seen that Roxanne definitely doesn’t.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Roxanne snaps. “Stop being such an asshole; he isn’t doing anything wrong!”

“He’s a supervillain, Roxy,” Metro Man points out in a virtuous tone. “It’s my duty to take him to prison. Of course,” he adds, “I probably wouldn’t have time to capture him if we were busy going to the party.”

“You—hypocrite!” Megamind gasps, actually shocked, pointing an accusing finger.

Megamind is so--oddly innocent. He knows Wayne is a jerk, but Metro Man is supposed to be a hero--heroes aren’t supposed to blackmail people!

“Extreme hypocrite,” Roxanne says, “double hypocrite. Blackmail, Wayne? That’s what you’re going with?”

“All right, then!” Metro Man says, advancing into the room, “I’ll just arrest him!”

“It’ll be fine,” Megamind says quickly to Roxanne, as she opens her mouth to argue.

(Metro Man looks annoyed; Megamind doesn’t think he would hurt her, but most of his assumptions about that have been based on an erroneous view of Metro Man and Roxanne’s relationship, which—yeah, not worth the risk.)

“It is not fine,” Roxanne says stubbornly. “I asked you for a favor and now you’re getting arrested. It’s not fair.”

(of course, of course she’s not worried about him—personally, specifically. but it’s—nice, anyway, that she’s concerned about unfairness even when he’s the one being affected by it.)

She is, in fact, worried about him specifically and personally.

“You can just—owe me twice,” Megamind says lightly, “I’ll be fine. It’s me—in and out before you know it!”

Roxanne shakes her head, lips pressed together, unsmiling.

“Oh, come on,” Metro Man whines, “you guys are making me feel like the bad guy!”

“Yeah, and it sucks, doesn’t it,” Megamind mutters under his breath.

Roxanne gives him an odd look.

Megamind and Roxanne are both aware, and discuss, quite early on in this story, that he doesn’t actually want to be a supervillain, that he feels constrained by circumstances to do it--much like Roxanne feels constrained by circumstances to appear “normal”. Both of them eventually freeing themselves from these constraints is an important part of the story.

“I just need a date to the party!” Metro Man says. “I can’t go by myself; they’re expecting a date; there’ll be questions if I show up by myself! Man, I hate questions!”

Roxanne looks over at him, then glances at Megamind again.

“Fine,” she says, voice tight. “You—fine. I’ll go get dressed.”

Metro Man gives a relieved whoop.

Wayne is really very like a spoiled child. Not actually evil, just--terribly selfish.

“You—you don’t have to—” Megamind says, honestly feeling a little bit dizzy at—she’s going to—do this, even though she doesn’t want to? Just to—just so—just for him? Nobody ever worries about—

“Stay here,” Roxanne says to him, and turns to go upstairs.

Megamind nods, bewildered, and stays.

Roxanne! Is rescuing him!!! Roxanne is rescuing him! And Megamind very much views it as a rescue, and is so shocked and grateful.

Roxanne slams her bedroom door and yanks open her closet, shoving clothing aside. She pulls down a black dress and tosses it on her bed, then gets out a pair of heels: the nicest of the outfits she tried earlier on when she was attempting to decide what to wear to her not-a-date with Megamind.

She wishes she had worn it for him; he’s definitely more worthy of it than stupid Wayne and his mother’s stupid party.

Roxanne dresses rapidly, then quickly applies makeup: dark eyeshadow, darker eyeliner, and crimson lipstick.

Megamind and Roxanne both have a tendency to become Dramatic in defiance. Angry and stuck doing something they don’t want to do, they both dress up in some shocking clothing, apply some makeup, and prepare to go into battle.

“So,” Metro Man says, in the awkward silence that follows Roxanne’s departure up the stairs, “you and Roxy, huh?”

“She doesn’t like to be called that,” Megamind says, folding his arms protectively across his chest.

Metro Man blinks.

“She never told me that,” he says defensively.

Megamind shrugs.

“Well, she told me,” he says. “I asked. Did you ask? Maybe you have to ask.”

(He’s not really sure why that causes Metro Man to flush with annoyance; for once that wasn’t really the reaction Megamind was going for.)

Megamind has very effectively drawn Wayne’s attention to how much of an ass he is--and he hasn’t even had to insult Wayne to do it. He did it simply by demonstrating what decent and thoughtful behavior actually looks like.

“Maybe she just doesn’t want you to call her that,” Metro Man says.

Megamind glares at him.

Like I said, Wayne is kind of like a spoiled kid.

Metro Man sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Listen, little buddy,” he says, failing to notice when this makes Megamind glare at him even harder, “I gotta warn you—Roxy’s mother is kiiiiinda a lot to handle. I met her once, for lunch, and—whew, questions; talk about questions. Like. I was sweating by the end of it.”

“Is this you trying to scare me off?” Megamind asks, narrowing his eyes. “If you wanted to go with Roxanne to this wedding yourself, then you should have agreed in the first place.”

(this is mine, he doesn’t say; you can’t have it)

“Whoa, buddy!” Metro Man says, holding up his hands, “No; that’s a big no. Better you than me, as far as this wedding gig goes. I just didn’t feel right letting you walk into this thing blind, you know? Nemesis to nemesis, it’s gonna be rough.”

“Thanks,” Megamind says sarcastically.

(he honestly can’t tell if Metro Man is messing with him or not; best to assume this is some elaborate form of mockery.)

Wayne wasn’t messing with him; he actually really was trying to warn Megamind. And to be friendly, kind of. Wayne sort of sees the nemesis thing as a game, because it’s never occurred to him that it’s much more dangerous to Megamind than to him.

Metro Man frowns and opens his mouth, but luckily at that moment, Roxanne comes down the stairs and Megamind is saved from having to continue the conversation.

(Evil heaven help him, but she is beautiful. Somehow it always seems to catch him off-guard, how very beautiful she is.)

Roxanne stalks towards Megamind, ignoring Wayne entirely.

(Megamind is looking at her; she can’t read his expression, can’t tell if he’s impressed with the dress or not)

He’s impressed with her.

“You sure you want to wear that lipstick?” Wayne asks. “It’s a little bright, don’t you think?”

And here you have the extreme contrast of how Wayne thinks of Roxanne, and how Megamind, who loves her, thinks of her. Wayne looks at Roxanne and thinks her lipstick is too bright. All Megamind sees is how beautiful she is.

Distantly, Roxanne notes that she is extremely angry, the kind of angry that makes her reckless and stupid and that this is probably Not a Good Thing. 

Again, this is definitely a trait that she and Megamind share, the way that strong emotion makes them reckless.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do until she’s already doing it: she stops in front of Megamind, reaches out to put one hand on his chest and one on the side of his face, and then leans forward to kiss him.

It says a lot that what she automatically goes for here, when she’s not thinking, is kissing Megamind.

Sanity intervenes at the last moment; Roxanne turns her head slightly so that her lips catch his cheek and just the corner of his mouth.

The contact lasts less than a second, but the jolt of sensation that goes through her is like electricity, like grabbing hold of a live wire, a shock that steals her breath, makes her heart seem to stop for a moment in her chest before slamming against her ribcage.

Ohhhh she cares about him so much; she is so very attracted to him.

Roxanne pulls away, looks at Megamind—fuck, he really does look like that after he’s been kissed when he wasn’t expecting it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart,” she tells him.

The ‘sweetheart’ is partially intended as a fuck you to Wayne, but it’s also partially automatic, since her mind is a little scrambled from that kiss, still.

“—ah?” Megamind says blankly.

“Tomorrow,” she says, “remember? Meet me here at ten?”

Megamind blinks at her, looking dazed.

“…tomorrow,” he says, “I—yes, tomorrow; ten; I will—I will see you tomorrow, Roxanne.”

Megamind is so shocked--she kissed him!--that it’s hard for him to string words together.

Roxanne steps away and sweeps out of the apartment, not waiting for Wayne to catch up. He does, of course, but it’s—the point still stands.

Dramatic Evil Queen Exit.

“Why did you do that?” Wayne asks, when they’re in the back of his limousine, pulling away from the curb of her apartment.

“Do what?” Roxanne says, opening her compact and looking at her own reflection.

“You kissed him,” Wayne says.

(fuck. she did, didn’t she. she definitely kissed Megamind oh god)

Internally panicking!

“Practice,” Roxanne says, uncapping her lipstick and rolling it up. “I am supposed to be ‘dating’ him, Wayne.”

But she quickly and cleverly covers with an excuse!

“You never did that when we were fake-dating,” Wayne says.

“Yeah, well,” Roxanne snaps, not really wanting to examine why she feels so defensive, “I like him a lot more than I like you.”

She does, of course. As she told Megamind, earlier. Also stop asking questions Wayne, Roxanne doesn’t want to discuss her perfectly sound and reasonable reasons for kissing the supervillain, okay?! 

(Wayne doesn’t say anything after that, and Roxanne is too busy pointedly ignoring him and re-applying her lipstick to notice the thoughtful glance that he gives her.)

Even Wayne the Oblivious is starting to wonder about Roxanne and Megamind.

[enbysaurus-wrex]

All-American Boy chapter 3

Chapter 3

Take a chance, take your shoes off, dance in the rain.

-Panic! at the Disco, I Have Friends in Holy Spaces

Cas:

Cas squinted his eyes at his roommate. “What’s larking?” he asked, head tilted slightly and eyebrows knit together.

Dean barked out a laugh, bending over to clutch his stomach. “LARPING,” he clarified. “It stands for live action role playing. It’s not a Shakespearean bird, you loon.”

“Larks are real birds, Dean,” Cas said, smirk forming on his lips. “What does live action role playing intail?”

“Uh, basically it’s like an RPG in real life. You run around with foam swords or beanbags for magic and just… role play. It’s fun,” Dean said with a casual smile.

“Who’s all gonna be there?” Cas asked. It wasn’t as if he were shy or anything. It just took him a while to warm up to new people and crowds freaked him out a little bit.

“Uh, Charlie, of course,” Dean said, scratching the stubble forming on his chin as he tried to remember who all was coming. “And Gilda, probably. Kevin and Channing, Garth, and a few others. Not too many people but we need the numbers in order to be a university recognized club, you know.”

Cas nodded. “Yeah. Sounds fun. Will I have to buy anything or will stuff be provided?”

Dean shook his head. “No, we’ve got a few extra supplies for newcomers but if you come to more than two games you have to purchase your own and pay the five dollar club fee.”

“Sounds reasonable. What class are you?” Cas asked, curious. He’d played several RPGs before so he was familiar with how they worked… mostly. It wasn’t as if he’d played D&D or WOW. Just stuff like Dragon Age and Skyrim.

“I’m a warrior so I’m DPS. But you have your orcs who are the tanks, mages can be DPS or healers depending. You also have rogues which can specialize in archery or short range weapons like daggers or whatnot,” he explained and Cas nodded again. He figured it would be something like that.

“Great,” Dean said, opening his wardrobe and pulling out a foam longsword.

Cas chuckled. “Where did you get that? Narnia?” he asked, not able to hide his amusement.

“Nah,” Dean said with a shrug. “Just kinda a closeted nerd.”

“Well, in my opinion, closets are for clothes. You should always be open about who you are. Why hide it?” He recognized the hypocrisy in what he was saying of course. If only he could just practice what he preached. But it was easier said than done. Especially with his upbringing.

“Well, the game’s tonight at sundown,” Dean said, pulling some costume chainmail from the closet as well. “What do you usually play as? You’re a mage in Dragon Age, right?”

“Elf mage. But I don’t have a costume. Or ears…” Cas said with a frown.

“And they haven’t put up any of those Halloween Express stores yet… We could always try Goodwill. I’m sure you could turn some ugly dress into a mage’s robes. And Charlie actually has Hogwarts robes you could wear inside-out to hide the school insignia,” Dean said, looking him up and down. “They might be a little short and maybe a little tight in the arms, but I’m sure they’ll fit. They’re kinda loose on her.”

“Not all mages wear robes you know? Dorian in Dragon Age kinda just wears a tunic with leather and gauntlets underneath.”

Dean nodded. “And thigh highs,” he said with a chuckle. “And a wicked-ass curly mustache.”

“They aren’t thigh highs,” Cas corrected. “Probably just knee highs with leather pants.”

“And he forgot a sleeve, because he’s an ‘edgy Tevinter,’” Dean said, still chuckling.

Cas snorted. “I thought he was just doing that to be sexy,” he said and Dean barked out another laugh.

“Yeah, well, you can be whatever kind of mage you want. I, myself, go for the knight in shining armor look,” Dean said with a wink.

Cas tried not to read too much into it. He knew they were just playing around. He wasn’t ready to get his heart broken again.

Half an hour and one city bus later, Cas and Dean were walking through Goodwill, looking through the dresses in the women’s section.

“You’ll probably need a large or an XL since most women aren’t as… built as you are,” Dean said, looking through the appropriate sizes.

Cas nodded. “Most women also aren’t six foot,” he said, knowing he’d probably fit an XL better and going straight to that section. He tried not to think too hard about the fact Dean called him built. It was just an observation. Nothing more.

“What about this?” Dean asked, holding up a white tunic style dress with cut-out sleeves.

Cas observed the dress, picturing wearing black jeans and boots with it. It would be a bit like what Dorian wore. Enough to make it work anyway.

“That could work if I put a belt around the waist and chest…” Cas mused.

“And Charlie has black arm-warmers you could wear as gauntlets. It’s not perfect but…”

“It’ll do,” Cas said, grabbing the garment and making his way towards the dressing rooms.

In front of the mirror, Cas stripped off his tee shirt and slipped on the dress. Other than his collar bones showing, it seemed to work pretty well. Maybe he could wear a scarf with it to make it more ‘magie.’ Afterall, he wasn’t supposed to be Dorian. He was just Dorian inspired. He could even draw on a goatee using eyeliner to set him apart from the character.

Back at Birchwood, Dean and Cas went to Charlie’s room to bum the arm warmers and some eyeliner off of her. She was so excited Cas was joining them tonight, she gladly gave over the supplies, telling him he could keep them for future cosplays if he’d like.

“Are you sure?” Cas asked, looking down at the black pencil and bit of fabric in his hands.

Charlie nodded. “Oh yeah. I have way too many sticks of eyeliner because my parents always give me makeup as stocking stuffers. And I’ve only worn the arm warmers once. They’re a little too emo for my tastes,” she said, cringing slightly.

Dean laughed. “I always seem to get car accessories in my stocking,” he said, shaking his head. “I have this huge collection of air fresheners and no car to put them in.”

Cas smiled fondly, remembering Christmases past. “I would always get more candy than one person could eat and my dad would end up stealing most of it even though I hid it under my bed.”

“Parents…” Charlie said, shaking her head and Cas tried not to be saddened by the memories.

“Parents,” he said in agreement.

After eating breakfast for dinner at Westwood (and yes, it was just as packed as Dean said it would be) the three of them made their way out to the Quad.

“Dean!” a small-framed blonde girl shouted and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He picked her up and spun her around.

“Missed you kiddo,” he said into her hair before setting her down.

“Jo,” he said, addressing the girl. “This is Cas, my roommate. Cas, this is Jo. She’s Bobby’s daughter and a freshman in Honors College. She has an on-campus job so she got to come up a week earlier, but unfortunately has been just too busy to stop by and see me.” He ruffled her hair and she slapped away his hand.

“Bobby who owns the auto shop?” Cas asked.

Jo nodded. “Yup. That’s my daddy. Grew up around cars my whole life but what I really want to do is teach. Well… and coach. I’m on the volleyball team here.”

Cas’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You’re in Honors College, have a job, and are in a sport? That’s a lot.”

Jo shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I tested out of a lot of the required classes and have a couple of semesters of college credit under my belt so I’m only taking twelve credit hours.”

“Tell him what you wanna teach,” Dean said, sounding rather proud of her.

“Physics,” Jo answered, a bit shyly. “I’ve always been drawn to the sciences, you know?”

Dean put his arm around her, pulling the girl to his side. He kissed her on the top of the head.

Cas felt like he was going to be sick. It didn’t come as a surprise that Dean had a girlfriend. He just wasn’t prepared for how bad it would feel. It had only been a week but he was falling for the man. Hard.

Dean:

Dean couldn’t be more proud of Jo. He kissed the top of her head and smiled down at her, her eyes shining back up at him. He knew the girl had a crush on him and that she had since they were children. They had always been really close and were open with their affections. But for all the heart eyes she made at him, he had only ever thought of her as a sister. It’s not as if he’d never told her that either. He figured she was just holding out until the day he changed his mind. Which was never ever going to happen. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t find her attractive. She was very cute. It was just that it would be so… weird. They’d known each other since daycare.

“Hey, Dean,” Max said, approaching with a small wave, his twin sister Alicia right behind him.

Max on the other hand… He’d met the dark skinned boy in freshman biology and had been harboring a crush ever since.

“Hey!” Dean said, letting go of Jo to hug each of the twins. “How are your moms?”

“Oh, you know. They’re cops so they never get a day off together but are disgustingly hopelessly in love,” Max said as he fake gagged. “It’s sickening.”

Max and Alicia were adopted, their parents dying in a car crash when they were very young. Sheriffs Jody and Donna had taken them in when they were in grade school.

“Hey!” Alicia said, suddenly remembering something. “Max and I are going to a drag show tomorrow. Wanna come?”

“Is it a Prism thing?”

Max nodded. “Yep.” He turned to Charlie. “Didn’t see you at the first meeting, Charles.”

“Been busy with RA stuff,” Charlie told him.

“And gaming,” Max said with a laugh.

“And gaming,” Charlie repeated sheepishly.

“Oh, love the outfit,” Max said, finally noticing Cas.

His friend suddenly looked shy. “Thanks. We, uh, got it at Goodwill actually.”

“Nice,” Max said with a nod. “Hey, Dean, come meet the rest of the gang.” He ushered them towards where Gilda, Kevin, Channing, and Garth were chatting with two brunette girls. As soon as Charlie approached, Gilda was immediately at her side. “Guys, this is Annie and Krissy.”

“Alex,” the one brunette corrected.

“They’re both freshman in the prospect teaching program,” Jo said.

“Prospect?” Cas asked, doing that cute head-tilt thing he always did.

Jo nodded. “Yeah, they don’t accept you into the teacher’s college until your junior year. You have to take a test and everything.”

“But you can take the test sooner than that since you have so many credits built up?” Dean asked, putting his arm around her again.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask my counselor,” Jo admitted.

Dean nodded. “Maybe you can get your program counselor early,” he suggested. Freshman had a different guidance counselor their first year as a ‘general counselor’ and after that they got a counselor in their majors.

“Enough yacking!” Charlie said with command. “As your queen, I demand no talk of the outside world once one’s feet step into Moondoor.”

“Moondoor?” Cas asked, looking adorably confused.

“The Quad,” Dean whispered with a chuckle. “It’s what we call the kingdom the game takes place in.”

Cas nodded, suddenly looking serious.

“Now then,” Charlie said, clapping her hand behind her back and walking in a royal fashion. “I want each of you to split up into two teams. You will have fifteen minutes to strategize before the game begins.”

Cas stood back while the group formed into two teams.

“Wanna be on my team, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Sure,” the dark-haired man nodded. “Who else is on our team.”

“Team Badass is you, me, Max, Jo, and Krissy,” Dean said with a smirk. “And Team Loser over there is Garth, Alex, Kevin, Channing, and Gilda.”

“Charlie isn't playing?” Cas asked, a look of confusion on his face.

Dean shook his head, chuckling softly. “Nah, she is. She just floats around to wherever she's needed. Keeps things interesting,” he said with a smirk.

“Alright good people of Moondoor,” Charlie said, approaching the front of the group once again. “What be your team names?”

“Team Badass!” Dean shouted, earning a ripple of laughter from both teams.

“Acceptable,” Charlie said. “And your team?” she asked the second group.

“Team Ass-Kickers!” Garth shouted, putting out his palm to be high fived by Kevin.

Charlie chuckled and shook her head. She instructed each team to go over their teams plan of attack. After fifteen minutes she addressed the whole group again.

She cleared her throat several times and everyone stopped talking. “Let the game commence!” she shouted and Dean let off a battle-cry.

Cas:

LARPing turned out to be complete and utter chaos with people attacking one another with foam weapons, firing fake arrows, and throwing bean bags from a pouch around their waists and shouting spells like “incinerate!” and “immobilize!” at one another. In the end, Team Badass won.

Cas was so tired, he fell asleep that night the minute his head hit the pillow. The next morning he was sore, but a good sore, the kind of ache he felt after an extra long run.

He ate breakfast with Dean and Garth (nobody else was awake) and spent the late morning into the afternoon watching Stranger Things on Netflix with them.

The entire LARPing team met for dinner at seven at the Student Center. Cas had never belonged to a group before. It felt nice.

After dinner, he was invited to go with them to see a drag show but he politely declined. He had no issues with drag or even transgender people. He just wasn’t ready to go to an event like that.

On Sunday he went out to the Quad to read his chapters while Dean and Jo were at the recplex lifting weights. Soccer practice stared that week and Dean wanted to make sure he was at least in some sort of shape before the season began.

Every day that week, at five pm sharp, Cas went to the soccer field to watch Dean practice. Sometimes Jo, Charlie, or Garth would join him, but on Thursday he was alone watching the brilliant man he was falling more and more for each and every day wipe the field with the rest of his teammates. It was no wonder the guy was there on an athletic scholarship.

As a midfielder, it suddenly became obvious how Dean stayed in shape despite his, admittedly, horrible eating habits. He glided across the pitch like it was made of ice. Cas knew nothing about sports but he knew he was one impressive specimen, that was for sure.

After practice, they would always grab a bite to eat. Sometimes they were alone, other times, one of their friends joined. Oftentimes, it was Jo. Cas tried not to get jealous every time the two of them casually touched. He knew going into this that Dean probably didn’t go for men, and even if he did, clearly he and Jo were devoted to one another and Cas did not intend to be a homewrecker.

Dean:

It was after practice on Friday night and Dean was beat, even after the amazing waffles he’d just had at Westwood. If he was being honest with himself, the carbs were probably making him even more sleepy. Thank goodness Cas just wanted a simple night in playing video games. Dean could be down with that. Maybe Charlie or Garth would join them later.

After kicking off his cleats, he bent over to peel of his socks and shin guards and threw them in the corner of the room where his laundry bin was.

Cas wrinkled his nose as he put the game into his XBox 360. He’d been playing Dragon Age Inquisition on PS4 and this was the first time he’d booted the 360 up since he’d been rooming with Dean.

“You should have brought some of those car air fresheners with you, hang them by your stinky laundry.”

Dean chuckled and went over to retrieve his shin guards. “You’re no spring rose after a jog,” he told Cas before throwing the rancid object at him.

Cas ducked to avoid it. “Watch it,” he said, pointing a finger at him with false seriousness. “I will tell Charlie on you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Dean asked, lifting up the other shin guard as if he was going to throw it.

“Do you want to watch me play Mass Effect or not?” Cas asked, sitting down on his banana chair and raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Cas in his own gaming chair. He was more of a PC gamer himself and was glad Cas had brought along a television and a couple of consoles. Not knowing where to put them, the tv was sitting stacked on top of the mini fridge/microwave combo Dean rented and the consoles were stacked on top of the empty plastic milk crates Dean had packed his stuff in. It wasn’t pretty but it worked.

“Okay, what’s this game about?” Dean asked as the start menu loaded.

Cas pressed start and began creating his character.

“Uh, it’s a decision making sci-fi RPG. It has a bit of a Star Trek influence and is story based. There are more lines of dialogue than your average tv show. So, the gameplay is kinda… lacking, but it got a lot better by games two and three. Your decisions carry over from game to game as well as the friendships and romantic relationships.”

“Romantic relationships?”

“Yeah, you can sleep with members of your crew.”

“How very Kirk of you,” Dean observed with a chuckle.

Cas nodded as he focused on getting his character just right. “Yeah, they actually had a limited edition Mass Effect Cards Against Humanity pack. One of the cards was ‘fuckable aliens.’”

Dean snorted. “So, like blue chicks or something?”

“There are those,” Cas said as he chose his characters background and class. “But there’s also a few other human and alien options. More so in games two and three.”

“So, who can you fuck this game?”

“Well, since there’s no gay romance option in ME1 or I usually go for Liara - your typical hot blue alien chick - and then kind just roll the dice in Two,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’m pretty much just holding out for Kaiden in Three. Sometimes I’ll go for Cortez but-”

“Wait,” Dean said, swallowing hard. “You’re gay?”

“Um... “ Cas looked nervous. “My Commander Shepard is for sure.”

“No,” Dean shook his head, standing up quickly. “Are you?”

Cas looked down at his controller. He was still in character creation mode. “You went to a drag show. You’re friends with Charlie and Max… I didn’t think you’d have an issue with-”

Dean shook his head. No, if Cas were gay that would change everything. “It’s a yes or no question, Cas.”

Dean wasn’t sure why he was freaking out so much about this. Hell, he identified as bisexual so it wasn’t a homophobic response. But, nonetheless, the knowledge that Cas might be into him made him uneasy. Maybe it was because he was still so fixated on Max?

“You’re not forcing me out of the closet, Dean,” Cas said, looking up at him with fire in his eyes. “I don’t get what your issue is but-”

“Hey,” Dean said, kneeling down and putting his hand on the other man’s shoulder before he decided to smite him or something. “I’m just… going through my own shit. It has nothing to do with you.”

“So you don’t have an issue if I’m-”

“Not at all!” Dean said, squeezing his shoulder and looking him dead in the eyes. Those deep blue beautiful eyes. “I… It just came as a surprise, that’s all. I’m totally cool with it.” He shot him a charming smile. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay…” Cas said tentatively before turning back to the tv.

To be continued...

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13196649/chapters/30569769

[ellenembee]

The Revelation of All Things - 50. In which she gets by with a little help (from her friends)

Read the full fic on AO3.

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Bull and Varric watched from their regular table as the Inquisitor emerged from Josephine's office into the main hall. Bull raised his hand to get her attention, but she didn't look his way at all. Instead, she walked quickly to her own door and disappeared through it, her posture stiff and her face emotionless. If he were anyone else, he probably wouldn't have noticed a thing. But he wasn't anyone else.

"Hmmmmm..."

Varric nodded. "Yeah. Wonder what's up?"

Figures that the dwarf would notice, too.

"Don't know. But here comes someone who does."

Unlike the Inquisitor, Leliana made a beeline for the table where he and Varric were enjoying their evening meal.

"Bull. Just who I was looking for. Come with me."

"Uh, sure thing, Red."

Leliana barely glanced at him as she passed by. Bull and Varric shared a mutual look of surprise, but Bull quickly got up and followed the spymaster up to her rookery. When they reached the top, Bull stood patiently as she sent her agents out. Finally, she crossed her arms and let out a small huff.

"I need your assistance," she said quietly, mindful of the center opening into the library below.

"Sure. What's up?" he replied in a similar low tone.

"I'm not sure, yet. Josephine has been trying to reinstate her family's ability to trade in Orlais, but someone has killed her couriers and destroyed the paperwork. I have uncovered a few leads, but the more I find, the more worried I become that someone will make an attempt on Josie's life. I don't want to worry her prematurely, but I would be immensely grateful for another set of eyes and ears on the ground here in Skyhold. And if you see or hear of anything useful from your Ben-Hassrath contacts, let me know."

"Absolutely. Are we talking a noble with a grudge or professional assassins?"

"Everything points to assassins. I'm not sure if they've been hired by someone else or if they themselves have a grudge against the Montilyet family."

"Hmmmm... I'll send out feelers within the network. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can track this down."

Leliana nodded. "Thank you, Bull. Your help is appreciated."

Bull chuckled. "Hey, that's what you pay me for, right? I'll be honest, though. This wasn't the conversation I expected."

"Oh? How so?"

"Varric and I saw the Inquisitor leave your little tea party. She didn't look so happy. I mean, to us. No one else would have noticed, but..."

"Ahhh... yes. Well, that's something else entirely. We have been receiving some... unpleasant messages from various citizens about the impropriety of the rumored affair between our Inquisitor and her Commander. The whispered talk in the back rooms and dark hallways all over Thedas is worse. She did not take it well."

"What are they saying?"

"Here. You can read them yourself if you like."

Leliana handed him a small stack of parchment. As he quickly skimmed the notes, he found himself cursing under his breath. The vitriol directed at the Commander in particular for "sullying himself" with a "knife-eared upstart" sickened him. Some even went so far as to compare him to Andraste's betrayer and husband, Maferath, and warned that the Commander would betray their Herald of Andraste soon enough. Many more, however, were directly degrading to the Inquisitor's status as an elf and a mage.

"These people insane," he muttered under his breath.

Leliana laughed. "Quite possibly. The conspiracy theories and ravings of sick people never cease to amaze me. It's one reason I have always strived to remain in the shadows. And the reality of an organization this large is that we could very well be torn apart from within, so it is best to keep them around as a reminder of what we hope to avoid."

"Anyone who knows her - anyone who knows the Commander for that matter - would never say such shitty things."

"Which is why it is important that she continue to travel around Thedas closing rifts and uniting people against Corypheus. In the end, we do not need these crazy townsfolk to believe in us. We need the average person and the powerful to recognize and join with us. Before our alliance with Orlais, we would occasionally receive a scathing note from this or that noble, but since the Empress offered her support, those messages have largely turned into whispers behind closed doors. The rich and powerful know where their bread is buttered, and right now, it is with us."

"I guess." Bull narrowed his one good eye. "In that spirit, perhaps you wouldn't object to a possible alliance with the Qunari, then?"

Usually, Leliana was too good at the Game to let her emotions show. His offer, however, clearly took her by surprise.

"I... I don't know. What kind of alliance?"

Bull shrugged. "Don't know, yet. There've been flutters among the Ben-Hassrath about it. I know they'll require a show of good faith. I just didn't think it'd be something you'd entertain. But maybe you wouldn't object if I brought it up with the boss?"

"I... don't suppose there's any harm in at least hearing what they have to say. I've never heard of the Qunari allying with anyone before."

Bull gave her a smug grin. "That's because they never have. Corypheus is bad news. They know that as well as anyone."

"Corypheus is a threat to their hope of ever conquering Tevinter."

Bull laughed. In truth, he wasn't sure of the motivation behind such an offer, but he wasn't in a position to question it.

"Well, yes. That's part of it."

"Run it by the Inquisitor. If she approves, we'll talk more about it."

Bull nodded and turned to leave, but Leliana's voice stopped him.

"Will you let the other companions know that the Inquisitor and Commander will be out for the next few days on Inquisition business?"

Bull threw Leliana a lewd look over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. She smirked at him in return.

By the time he reached the great hall, Dorian had joined Varric at the table. Bull sat down at his plate and started eating again. The other two just stared at him until Varric loudly and deliberately cleared his throat.

"Well?"

"The Inquisitor is going to be gone for the next few days on Inquisition business."

The dwarf gave him a shrewd look. "On 'business'? Without her companions?"

"Yup." Bull paused, reveling in the reveal. "And with the Commander."

Dorian let out a low whistle. "Well, well, well. Who would've thought he'd work up the nerve? I wonder where they're going." He started to stand. "Perhaps I should go give the Commander some pointers..."

Bull put his hand on the mage's shoulder and gently pushed him back down into his chair. "She and the Commander are reviewing the work of a blacksmith near Honnleath. They'll be taking a few soldiers with them. I wouldn't call it a romantic trip, Dorian."

The mage tinged red at the contact but said nothing. Since their last trip together, tensions between himself and the Tevinter mage were now at critical levels, but Dorian had yet to make a move. Either it would end in mayhem or in the bedroom. Bull would prefer the latter - not least because the former might upset their Inquisitor. Regardless, he decided to leave the teasing for later. They had more important matters to deal with tonight. Dorian brushed Bull's hand off his shoulder and made a petulant face.

"Spoilsport. I could have gotten at least four or five blushes out of the Commander before he threw me out of his office."

Varric snickered but then turned almost immediately back to Bull with a more serious expression. "What else?"

"She's been getting some hate mail. Pretty awful stuff. Some of it about her and the Commander... Rumors and such. I'm sure you can relate. Not everyone loves your fiction as much as Cassandra."

"Well. Shit. I certainly can. My editor usually keeps most of it out of my sight, though. It takes some time to get desensitized to things like that. I'm surprised Leliana even showed her the letters."

"I don't think she saw them. Just heard about them. But it's something she'll need to get used to as a public figure. Sheltering her from these things won't help her."

He firmly believed it, but it didn't make it any easier to take. Bull sometimes wished the Inquisitor had a thicker skin. Then again, she wouldn't be her if she did.

The three of them fell into a solemn silence, each chewing through their dinners slowly, wrapped up in their own thoughts. After a few minutes, Hawke approached, plate in hand, and looked them over. Her bow-shaped lips contorted in displeasure. Bull just shrugged at her as Dorian let out a deep sigh and took a long drink from his wine.

"I'd ask if someone died, but in our line of work, the answer is far too likely to be yes," she joked as she sat down next to Varric and then frowned at the complete lack of response. "Alright. I'll bite. What's up? I don't think I've ever seen the three of you this quiet. Either you're planning something really big - in which case, I want in - or something really depressing just happened - and I should probably know about it whether I want to or not."

Varric filled her in on the conversation. There was a bit of a lull before Varric took a sarcastic poke at Hawke.

"You've never had to deal with people who hated you before, have you?"

"Oh, no! Not at all. A Circle full of hostile mages and templars, Qunari, Carta, Coterie, various and sundry evil doers whose plots and schemes I've ruined, Chantry Mothers, a decimated city full of angry people..." She paused, but when no one spoke, she continued airily, "Plenty of people said nasty things about me, but I never believe any of it. Deep down, I'm sure they all really adore me. Cullen did. If I can turn a stodgy templar like him, I must be some kind of badass hero or something. Still glad that man finally came to his senses in the end. He's a good sort, even if he does have a stick up his ass most of the time." She leaned back and looked at them all in turn. "But if you're all so concerned for your lovely Inquisitor, why aren't you upstairs cheering her up?"

After a long pause, Dorian stood suddenly. "Excellent question, my dear." He picked up his bottle of wine and a couple of glasses off the table then looked around expectantly. "Well?"

Bull shrugged. Just because she needed to learn how to deal with it didn't mean she needed to do it alone.

"I'm in. You two coming?"

Hawke held up her hands. "I wouldn't want to intrude on family bonding time."

"You've got a shit ton of experience with this sort of thing, though," Bull reminded her.

Hawke seemed to waver as she considered Bull's point. Varric finally got up and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Come on. If we don't cheer her up, she'll be stewing on this all night. Grab another bottle or three, Sparkler. If we're gonna do this, we should do it up right."

Dorian gave a little cheer and pulled another few bottles off a nearby table. They finagled their way past the guards and took the stairs up to the Inquisitor's quarters. After a short but heated debate on whether they should knock, Bull pounded his fist on the door. They heard nothing until a small voice called out from the other side.

"Who's there?"

"Everyone, apparently," Dorian said jovially. "But more specifically, it's me, Varric, Bull, and Hawke. You looked a little down earlier, so we've come to cheer you up... with wine!"

The lock clicked, and the Inquisitor's tired face appeared. She smiled at them weakly, and it was apparent to all that she'd shed a few tears at least. Bull felt a little twinge of regret that they hadn't thought to come up sooner. What the woman needed was a distraction. If the Commander couldn't provide that tonight, then it was up to them.

"Well, as long as you have wine..."

She backed away and waved her hand for them to ascend the stairs into her quarters. As soon as they crested the stairs, Hawke gave a long, low whistle and threw herself down on the couch in front of the fire.

"Fancy digs, Inquisitor! Must be pretty lonely up here on your own, though."

The Inquisitor motioned for everyone to sit. Varric sat on the couch with Hawke, and Dorian lounged on the rug in front of the fire. Bull took a spot toward the back against the wall next to the fire place. The Inquisitor sat on the floor in front of the couch. From his spot, Bull could see everyone's face except Dorian's.

"It took some getting used to - the being alone. Those first few weeks in Haven, I thought I might go stir crazy in that tiny cabin by myself. But I've adjusted fairly well. We're often out in the field anyway. The large windows and tall ceilings here help, too."

Bull considered her words. He knew a little about the Dalish, but he hadn't really stopped to consider how the different customs might affect her.

"You were never alone in your clan?" he queried.

"Not really, no. Not like you mean. I... kept to myself more often than the others, but even then, we all slept near each other. Having a big space like this to myself is quite out of the ordinary. Half my clan could fit in here. It does have its upsides, though. I've even developed a taste for shemlen beds."

Dorian made a face as he handed each of them a glass of wine. "I can't imagine sleeping on the ground all the time. And around a whole group of people? It's bad enough when we're traveling around the back hills of Ferelden and Orlais. Give me a fluffy bed with plush velvet pillows, a full wine cellar and possibly a nice bubble bath."

Varric chuckled. "Yes, Dorian. We're all aware of your idea of the 'bare necessities.'" Dorian merely gave Varric a disdainful look, so the dwarf continued, "I don't mind sleeping on the ground. Maker knows I had to do enough of it while wandering around Sundermount with Hawke."

"Hey! I never made you come along. You were there of your own free will... unlike here, I understand. Something about being conscripted - detained and questioned about a certain dashing warrior's whereabouts?"

Varric shook his head. "The things I do for you..."

Hawke looked around at them with a smug look. "See? Unmitigated adoration."

Bull watched a small smile play at the corners of the Inquisitor's mouth as the two friends bantered back and forth. But she had yet to truly smile, and the glass of wine Dorian provided earlier sat untouched on the floor.

"I'm not sure how you do it, Hawke... stay so positive in the face of such darkness."

"My dearest Inquisitor, never mistake sarcasm and arrogance for positivity. I've got the former in large supply, but positivity? That's a hard commodity to come by. I have to admit, I'm impressed by your fortitude. Running the Inquisition - an organization this large - with so much responsibility... I'm not sure how you manage to stay sane."

The Inquisitor finally gave them a real, albeit small, smile. "It is a bit terrifying, isn't it? But I've made good friends here. My advisors and companions have been the real driving force behind the success of the Inquisition. And, of course, people like you and Stroud - strong warriors sacrificing themselves once again for the greater good. The Inquisition couldn't succeed without you - without all of you."

Hawke blinked once and then broke into a wide grin. "That was quite amazing what you did there. We came up here to cheer you up, and suddenly you're giving us a pep talk. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were buttering us up for some awful battle in the desert wastelands of Orlais... ... oh, wait..."

She winked at the Inquisitor, and Bull laughed. Hawke was certainly a larger than life personality, but in retrospect, he found himself glad that the job of Inquisitor hadn't fallen in her lap. Their Inquisitor might be quiet sometimes. She might have moments of doubt and introspection. But she had an inherent kindness held up by an iron will. She never pushed her advantage unless absolutely necessary. It wasn't his style, per se, but people like him and Hawke didn't need to be in charge of organizations like this one.

And your fellow followers of the Qun would probably exile you for even thinking like that.

He should be figuring out weaknesses and finding ways to exploit the kingdoms of Ferelden and Orlais. He shouldn't care about who was in charge of the Inquisition as long as that person eliminated the threat - Corypheus. The Qun allowed no personal thoughts, only honor and duty to the exclusion of all else. He was supposed to be working to help these lost people comprehend "the way." Perhaps he'd been a spy among the unenlightened for too long. He'd begun to think like them, and even more troubling, he wasn't nearly as upset about it as he should be.

"Don't let her fool you, Snowflake," Varric warned. "She's just using that sarcasm to cover up her glaring insecurities. Hawke's not as invincible as she seems. You should have seen her after Fenris left-"

"Maker's balls, Varric! That was a special circumstance and has long since been resolved, as you well know. A minor blip in the heroic history of Marian Hawke."

Varric's eyes positively twinkled. "How is Fenris, by the way? Still as broodingly handsome and gratingly rude as ever, I expect."

"As if I'd be with anyone who wasn't at least as pretty as me... Fenris is fine, thank you. It's only taken... what? A month or two for you to ask?"

"Well, I never know what to expect. You're on, then you're off, then you're on-"

Hawke leaned back on the couch, crossed her arms in front of her, and gave them all an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "One time. One time he ran away from our relationship-"

"-for three years-" Varric inserted.

"-because he'd been hurt! And anyway, you're just jealous."

Varric let out a sarcastic laugh. "Me? Jealous of that depressing elf?"

Bull heard the note of bitterness in Varric's tone and filed it away for later while he watched the Inquisitor's expression go from mildly amused and slightly uncomfortable to rapt attention in a split second. No one else seemed to notice, not even the typically observant dwarf... although Varric clearly had some issues to work through where Marian Hawke was concerned. Dorian turned his head to look back at Bull with a devilish grin on his face.

"This is quite entertaining," he murmured with a quirk of his perfectly manicured brow.

And Varric wasn't through, yet. "You're kidding, right? If you're still together, where is Fenris now?"

"He's got his own things to take care of. Besides, you know he would die to protect me. I'd rather not give him the opportunity."

"He's just ok with that? The Fenris I know would be livid that you left him behind."

Hawke raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the others. "Oh, hello everyone! Don't mind us! Same conversation, different day. Here I thought we'd cheer up the Inquisitor, maybe eat some fancy treats from snooty nobles... instead you get an earful about my love life. At least you do look a little cheered up. Glad to know my relationship foibles are entertaining. Got any chocolates?"

The Inquisitor smiled. "No chocolates, but I do have cookies."

She got up to retrieve a large, ornate tin from her desk and passed it around. There was a brief, awkward lull as everyone chewed on Orlesian caramel cookies. Finally the Inquisitor spoke.

"I don't mean to pry, but... you're with an elf?"

Hawke gave her a confused look. "Yes, Fenris is an elf. He was a slave in Tevinter for a long time. I helped free him from his master, Danarius."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I've only read bits and pieces of the Tale of the-"

"Don't bother," Hawke interrupted with a wave of her hand. "That book is not even close to an accurate depiction of what happened. But Varric likes to take 'artistic liberties' with the truth. Be careful or you, too, might end up a celebrity on the run."

Varric rolled his eyes. "You're so dramatic, Hawke. You know I just want you to be happy..."

Hawke reached over and pulled him into a bear hug. "Oh, there's my trusty dwarf!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Varric grumbled, but he was grinning ear to ear. Bull chuckled to himself at their complex relationship. Except for the deeply buried undertone of sexual tension, they reminded him strongly of a Qunari relationship. For the Qunari, sex and relationships existed in completely separate spheres.

Bull reflected briefly on Dorian. Even if their game of cat and mouse ended with casual sex at some point, the idea of sleeping with someone he knew - someone he worked with on a regular basis - was decidedly un-Qunari. And as with his shifting thoughts, that didn't bother him as much as it should. On a superficial level, he understood that he should probably analyze those thoughts a bit harder, but he couldn't seem to summon the strength for it. So, he shook his head as if to clear the thoughts away and focused on the Inquisitor once more.

"Do you ever find that being with him makes things... harder for you? Do you feel like you have fewer opportunities?"

Hawke furrowed her brow. "I don't quite follow..."

"I mean... do people treat you differently because he's there? Because he's... not human."

Hawke smiled and slowly nodded her head in understanding. "Ahhh... I see what you're asking. Do I feel slighted or that I've missed out on opportunities from bigoted, idiotic people because I'm with an elf?"

The Inquisitor blushed. "I... sorry. You don't have to answer."

"No. I'm happy to let you know that I've never cared what others thought of my relationship with Fenris-" she shot a glare at Varric "-or what 'opportunities' I might miss. I love him. He's far more valuable to me than a few lost jobs or whispered insults. And the advantage of being a warrior is no one insults you to your face unless they're looking for a fight. It's a part of life." She paused and then added with a small smile, "If I know Cullen at all - which I do - he doesn't care, either. He doesn't do anything by halves. If he said he's in, he's all in. Educating some backward ass hats on how to treat his woman won't bother him a bit."

The Inquisitor's face flushed deep red, and she looked down at her hands. "Um... yes. Thank you. I appreciate your candor. Still... it's hard knowing I could potentially harm him by simply existing and being with him. I'm not used to shem- human culture, but the disparagement of elves seems universal."

Dorian gave her a sheepish half smile. "I wish I could argue, but as you've just heard, my own country actively keeps elves as slaves. The best I can offer is that there are many in Tevinter who would like to see that change."

"And there are people like you, Snowflake," Varric added softly, "making that change happen... even if it is gradual. What you did in Orlais - Briala being named the first elven nobility - that will have consequences far and wide. You are actively making the world a better place for elves with every move you make. If... when you defeat Corypheus, you'll secure your place as another elven hero of Thedas... I'll make sure of that."

Varric grinned, and the Inquisitor laughed. "I knew you were writing all this down!"

"I'll at least have a cameo appearance, right?" Hawke queried. "Don't write me as too tragic should the worst befall me in this siege."

Varric laughed at Hawke's long-suffering tone and the hand she'd thrown against her forehead with dramatic flourish. Then he shuddered.

"Don't jinx it, Hawke!"

Bull let his mind drift as the conversation turned to more mundane topics. They spoke a little about the siege and then more about some odd happenings around Skyhold involving a barrel full of daggers and some missing cheese. Then the Inquisitor asked for a story, and Hawke and Varric took some time to argue about which story to tell. Eventually they settled on the Kirkwall Rebellions because the Inquisitor needed to know how "badass" her Commander really was. And indeed, if even a portion of the story were true, Bull had to credit the Commander with his bravery in the face of a mad woman. Varric had settled into full storyteller mode, his voice undulating with the emotion of the story, and Bull relaxed into the stone wall as he watched the others watch Varric.

"Meredith ordered the templars to kill Hawke, but Cullen refused and demanded the Knight-Commander step down. When he took his stand, he had no way of knowing whether his fellow templars would back him up. They very well could have followed Meredith's orders to kill all of us. But he stepped right between Hawke and Meredith, raised his sword against his Knight-Commander and shouted, 'You'll have to go through me!' It was chaos for a while after that, but the Commander fought with us valiantly."

Bull chuckled slightly at the proud but shy look on the Inquisitor's face as she listened to Varric and Hawke sing his praises. If Cullen were here, he'd be blushing wildly and arguing that his stand had come far too late - that he should have seen through Meredith sooner. But this was Varric and Hawke's show for the Inquisitor, and they were going to play it up as much as possible.

"Meredith was reduced to a toxic statue, and Cullen, now leading the templars, let us go in peace. He spent most of his time working with one of our other companions, Aveline, to rebuild Kirkwall until the Seeker tapped him a few years later to join her little start-up organization. Something about an Inquisition..."

The Inquisitor laughed. "And you told her you didn't have any idea how to find the Champion. So they made me Inquisitor instead."

Hawke shook her head. "You're the one with the glowy mark that closes rifts. I just defended a city against a Qunari invasion and took out a mad Knight-Commander."

"Among other things," Varric mumbled.

The Inquisitor laughed again and looked around her, resting her eyes on each of them in turn. Bull suddenly felt naked under her gaze, as if he had no defenses. He averted his eye, unsure of why he was reacting that way.

"Thank you all so much. This has been a lovely evening... just the distraction I needed, as you all seemed to already know. I'm not sure what I did to deserve such friends."

"Besides saving our asses on a regular basis?"

The Inquisitor grinned at Varric's question. "Yes, besides that."

"I'll write up a list," he promised.

They all laughed and then stood to go. Bull was the last to wish her a goodnight. As he was about to walk out her door, though, a small hand on his arm stopped him.

"Thank you again, Bull. Also, I'll be back in a few days if there's anything you'd like to discuss."

Bull was stunned. He literally couldn't think of anything to say except, "Uh... what?"

"You just seem like you have something on your mind. If you'd like to talk about it, I'm happy to listen."

Bull wracked his brain for any way she could have possibly talked with Leliana before he'd come up the stairs. Perhaps a note? But why would the spymaster have sent a note about that?

"Uh, sure boss. Just have a question for you. Nothing special."

"OK. I'll come find you when I get back."

"Sounds good. I'll... uh... let you get to sleep now. Safe travels."

"Thank you. Good night."

Bull walked out and waved nonchalantly as she closed and locked the door behind him. Inside, however, he was reeling from her pointed comment. Was he that easy to read? He'd never been before. Varric had mentioned something about her uncanny ability to sense when someone was hiding something, but he wasn't really hiding anything. He couldn't hide what he didn't know.

But he did suspect the Qunari were up to something. Perhaps that's what she'd picked up on. That meant that he had a tell, though. A Ben-Hassrath couldn't afford tells, especially ones the leader of the Inquisition could suss out. The Iron Bull frowned and knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight as he sifted through anything and everything that might have given him away.

[silith-sunstorm]

Troubles with Hunting

Screaming and hollering. That’s all Silith heard during the flight into Stormheim. She found it highly amusing and laughed at the Hunter the entire way. Though soon, the two landed and could start on their mission.

“Where to now?” Jaeger asked, calm and collected as though he hadn’t been screaming about falling to his death just a few moments before.

Silith looked and gestured out toward Hrydshal, their destination. “We can search through town on our way to the cave up above. Or… we can just go straight to it. Either way, we have to go through to get there,” she said as she started digging through her enchanted hip satchel. With it being enchanted, she could bring anything with her. Including two grappling guns. One was handed off to Jaeg and the other was quickly utilized to get up on top of the high wooden wall.

Upon seeing the Hunter land beside her, she offered a small nod and placed both grappling guns back in that bag. Quietly, they both landed on the ground inside the Vrykul town and searched. They didn’t have any issues but they also didn’t find what they were searching for. A tower in the back of the village was their next destination.

They climbed up and up the ramps inside until they reached the top. From there, they could see a path that would lead up to the cave. But first, they had to bridge the gap. Again, the grappling guns were retrieved and utilized. Over to the path to start the hike up. More uses of the gun was needed along the way but soon, they reached the top. The grappling guns were left behind and they continued on towards the cave. A few felskorn Vrykul remained - easily snuck by.

The cave was almost empty. A few demons were scattered inside. “Huh. Doesn’t look like too much. Is the necklace coin thingy in there? Looks like easy pickings if it is,” Jaeger said as he peered in with his good eye, eyebrow raised. He scanned the area, looking for any potential major threats.

“I don’t know. But we should look.” Silith drew her daggers and moved further into the cave. Her blades cut into a nearby imp, easily dispatching of the tiny demon. Jaeger wasn’t far behind her, disrupting the imps casting and causing them to seemingly implode before they could even attack.

They soon reached the back, all the imps in their way dead. There stood the statue with the coins still hanging around its neck. Jaeger quirked a brow and looked to Sil, "Well, I think we can say it was pretty easy... Should we celebrate with some jerky or is it too soon?"

“Oh, you want some jerky? We can take a bit of a jerky break.” Sil grinned and dug around in her bag to find the jerky. After finding the little baggie, she pulled out two pieces - one for her and one for her artifact-hunting partner. “It’s lynx jerky.” She watched as Jaeger took his piece, taking a bite out of her own before speaking up again. “So we need to take it off together, right?”

“I suppose? Unless you want me to climb up there by myself.” Jaeger eyed the statue as he sniffed the jerky and soon took a bite out of it. As he chewed, he pondered the situation and sized up how tall the statue was.

“Well, that woman… Nykis or whatever… She said it has to be taken off by two people. So we should take it off together.” Her eyes watched as the man nibbled at the jerky. “How’s it taste?” She asked and as she was about to take another bite, a felfire bolt whizzed past her and hit the wall. Her attention shot to the source, staring at the imps and felguard that blocked their exit.

Jaeger blinks as the bolt flies past them, "Well, I can't say it's horribly bad. A little too salty for my taste, truthfully," he says, turning and drawing his sword as he spoke. He took up a pose for throwing a Javelin. "Watch this," he said with a grin, before taking a few steps and tossing his sword, a faint green wire following it, toward the group of demons, who promptly sidestepped it. Jaeger then gave a shrug, and held up the other end of the green wire in his hand, gave it a tug, and it suddenly went shooting off towards the demons. Flying across the cave, he braces himself properly as he drop kicked an imp, sending them both flying past the other demons towards the mouth of the cave.

Sil grins and shrugs a shoulder. "That was kind of... hot." She laughs and twirls her daggers in her hands before sprinting off toward a demon he missed, blades easily cutting through one or two.  It didn't take long for them to take care of the small group of demons that had come in behind them. "As for the jerky..." She says with a huff. "It's not that salty." She smirks and snickers quietly to herself.

A hoof then lands behind them, standing right by the statue with the artifact. A large Man’ari Eredar blocked their goal, skin a deep crimson, fel-scarred and honestly, quite ugly. "... Well fuck." Sil cursed just a moment before the fel-corrupted Draenei shot a felfire bolt right for her gut. She flies back some, quickly using a veil of shadow to put the flames out.

"To each thei-" Jaeger stopped, looking at the Man’ari in front of them and feeling something bubbling deep in him. He watched as Sil got blown away with the fel fire, but quickly turned back to corrupted Draenei and launched at them, swinging his sword down vertically towards their shoulder. The Draenei's eyes widen as her shoulder was aimed for. "How DARE you try to mar my precious flesh!" Not only did she hurl more felfire at him and knock him back next to Sil but soon, a few small imps pour out of a portal, running at the two of them.

"Bad guys here!" They cackled and one managed to pounce onto Sil, its clawed little hands clinging to her face. One nail went into an eye, causing Sil to cry out in agony. "Fuck! Dammit imp!" She pulls a dagger from her leggings and sticks it into the demon, sending it back to where it came from. Meanwhile, the Man’ari was readying another bolt of felfire.

Another imp jumped on top of Jaeger and began scratching away at his face, laughing maniacally in it's squeaky voice, it ripped off his eyepatch and saw what was underneath, and a had to take a moment to comment about it, "Wow, you things really are ugly!" It's dumb voice cackled. Jaeger just retorted by punching it in the jaw, with a  satisfying crack as mail fist meant flesh and bone. The Imp let out a squeal as it fell off of him. Jaeger looked up to see the Manari readying another deadly bolt, and acted on instinct as he scooped up an imp, threw himself forward, and tossed it right in the way of the bolt.

The bolt was launched just a moment before Jaeg threw the imp in front of it. Sil watched with one eye as the felfire sent the imp back to the Nether. "No! My pets!" Now the Man’ari was angry. Sil finally managed to pull herself up to her feet, flesh and leather singed and an annoyed look on her face. "Why do I have a feeling this is going to be difficult..?" Soon enough, she drops the hand from her head, letting the now empty socket bleed out.

It was a little too late for Jaeger, and he was already starting to reach blood rage levels of anger. His fel-imbued chest plate hissing as it tries not to disintegrate from the even stronger fel blast. He leans over and picks up the imp whose jaw he shattered, his fist tightly clenching it's small, frail body. He let out a war scream to rival an Orc's war scream as he once more lunged at the Man’ari, swinging the still breathing imp as a living club at the Man’ari's head.

Sil reached out to try to grab him, to stop him. Her depth perception was shot and she only grabbed at thin air. "Jaeger!" She calls out, readying herself to try to jump in. Which really wasn't a good idea.

The Man’ari formed her own blade, imbued with fel energy, to cut down the imp that the hunter was attacking her with. The blade ripped the imp from Jaeger's hand, slicing through his gauntlet and across his palm. "Pathetic whelp!" She snarls, swinging her blade mercilessly at the man. As the blade roared around for another attack on him, he ducked down into a crouch, pulling the knife from his belt before springing forward out of the crouched position and stabbing the Manari in her thigh. When Sil found a spot to jump in and try to stab her daggers at the corrupted Draenei, their opponent just struck at her as well. She managed to get a few slashes into the Elf’s body - side and leg.

Stabbed by the man, she let out a roar of pain as she kneed Jaeger in the face, a sickening crunch coming from his nose as he fell backwards on to his back, blood streaming down over his lips.

“Jaeger! We need help! It’s good you got her but that won’t stop her!” Silith called out as she saw the wound in the Man’ari’s leg, starting to fumble around for her shadowgem.

The Man’ari pulled the knife out of her thigh and inspected it, looking at the blade covered in her tainted blood. She looked over at Sil and flung the knife at her, striking her in the thigh. Crying out, the Elven woman clutched at her leg. All she could do was watch, and poorly at that. She would miss more often than not if she tried to fight, ribs were likely broken, stomach was burned, and a knife covered in tainted blood was embedded in her leg.

"Call your help. I'll make them suffer."

The Man’ari looked down at Jaeger, who was on his belly crawling towards his blade. She knelt down and grabbed him by his hair, "And I'm not through with you yet, worm." She stared him in the eye, "I haven't been wounded in thousands of year, and you think I'm going to let you walk away with it?" She began slamming his head down over and over, a pool of blood forming under him. After at least must be ten slams, she lets go of his head, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, and throwing him against the cave wall in a bloody slump.

Just as Sil found her gem, her remaining eye widened. “Jaeger!” She shouted and quickly spoke into the communicator. “Hey! Shades! We kind of need help over here, a red Draenei likely just killed Jaeger and took one of my eyes!"

With Jaeger dealt with and Sil incapacitated, the corrupted Draenei turned and summoned forth a Jailer. “Bind them.” She commanded and the demon obeyed. Jaeger was bound to the cave wall with fel chains whereas Sil was put into a physical cage.

“They’ll be here…” She said, turning her gaze towards Jaeger’s body. It was almost as if she was telling him - telling him that he’ll survive.