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billiewena · 3 years

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for the 100k fic celebration, here a portion of the “what if 10x05 had a sastiel agenda?” AKA lil shit sam/jealous dean destiel fic I first shared a while back! been having a lot of fun basically rewriting and expanding on the entire musical episode with new songs (and lots of cute kristen & siobhan moments because OF COURSE they’re still a couple.) it was really encouraging to see the positive response to it back then and it's been taking forever because of work/other writing but I’m so excited to have this one be the first full-length fics I ever post.

It starts with costumed teenagers locked in a tight embrace with absolutely no room for Jesus.

“What are they doing?”

Marie glances over her shoulder for only a brief second.

“Kids these days call it hugging,” she says slowly. Geez, it would’ve been less insulting for her to just outright say Wow, you’re old.

Except it’s not just any of the show’s stars hugging over there. One of them is the “Dean” who’d been mid-rehearsal when they arrived and looked more like Bieber than him with the blonde wig. And the other? Well, he would recognize that Columbo coat anywhere.

“Is that in the show?” he asks, pointing their way.

Marie quickly shakes her head at the accusation. “Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in a real life.”

He nods and lower his hand. Got it. That’s all it was. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about—

“No, my play explores the nature of Sastiel.”

“The — wait, what?” he says, confused at once.

“Sastiel?” Marie pauses, giving him a second to figure it out. He doesn’t. “You know, the relationship between Sam and Castiel?”

Dean blinks.

“Sam and…C-Cas?”

“I know, I know. Edlund’s series never finished. I’m lucky I got these drafts. Ugh, it’s Midnight Sun all over again. But the love story is all in the subtext,” she says with confidence. “Can you believe there are people who still think Destiel is endgame? After everything that happened after the angels fell? After Gadreel? Please.”

He silently sounds out the word. Des-tiel? Wait…

“Ever since Cas came back from the dead and took on Sam’s pain, I knew. I just knew. Every one of their arcs had been parallel to each other’s from their fall from grace to the trials. And now with Dean gone, all they have…is each other.”

Marie sighs. “Besides, you can’t spell subtext without S-E-X.”

He coughs and nearly chokes on an asteroid-sized lump in his throat.

“I…uh. Yeah, th-that’s not…you know, I think I’ve seen enough,” Dean says with a forced smile. “Thank you for your, ah, time. I’ll, uh, we’ll follow up if we have questions about the missing persons case. I—alright.”

And with that he purses his lips, turns on his heel and walks away — nearly tripping over one of the stage chords as he does. Why are there are so many of them anyways? This is just some all-girls school production, not the goddamn West End.

He finds Sam in his natural nerd habitat (the tech booth) sifting through all the bins of A/V supplies.

“Yeah, not to interrupt the blast from the past here but it’s time for us to go,” he says, patting the door.

His brother shoots him an annoyed look but packs up and follows him out all the same. Not that Dean bothers to wait for him; no, he makes a beeline for the car as soon as he leaves the booth.

“Hey, what’s with the rush?” Sam calls after him as he runs to catch up with him at the school entrance.

“No rush,” he says shortly. “Just wanted to see what you found out before you got too lost in the nerd sauce over there.”

He doesn’t need to look back to know he’s on the receiving end of a Classic Sam Bitchface right now and continues to stomp his way through the parking lot.

“Well, no EMF, no hex bags. None of their props are remotely hinky. Talked to Maeve and all those extras in the auditorium.” Sam finally catches up and walks side-by-side with him now. “You have any more luck?”

“Nah. Ms. Chandler's office is just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's probably just face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch. I did get to hear all about the director’s, ah, creative vision though,” Dean says, teeth gritted. “Apparently we go into space, I become a woman, and there’s even ninjas and robots!”

“Robots. Huh. Well, that’d definitely be a new one.”

“There’s no robots in Supernatural—”

“I-I know that,” Sam says in exasperation. “I just mean it’s, y’know, innovative. And Dean we’ve fought weirder. Remember the teddy bear? The fairies? The ballet shoes?”

“Well, you just wait until you hear about what she in store for you, Lover Boy,” he says.

And that makes Sam do an instant double-take.

“Uh, Lover Boy?”

“Yeah, your number one fan back there —” he says, gesturing back towards the school, “— was telling me all about the play’s, uh, love story between you and Cas. You got something you’ve been meaning to tell me or what?”

“The love story? Wait, what do you mean me and Cas?”

Dean scoffs, already in utter disbelief of the words he was about to say. “Like you and Cas, together. Together together? Romance of the ages the way she made it sound. Apparently it’s all in her play!”

To his surprise though, Sam just… laughs. “Well, I mean hey, that’s an improvement from the ones who wrote about me and you.”

“You got that right,” he agrees with a shudder. Meeting one Becky the Stalker was bad enough. Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she had an audience made it even worse. “She even had a portmanteau for you, dude. Like you’re some celebrities in a grocery store tabloid. Sass-tiel.”

“Sass-tiel?” He seems to seriously consider it but shrugs. “I don’t know. What about… Samstiel? CasSam? Cam? Mmm, maybe not that…”

Dean groans. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”

“Of course it’s not my issue,” Sam says. He stays pensive for a few more seconds until chuckling again to himself this time, as if he’s the only one in on a private joke. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Cas is great but…”

“Not your type?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. No, it’s definitely more than that and he’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amused expression.

Dean turns and stares him down. “What?”

“I dunno,” he says, his smirk fully visible now. “I just think it’s funny they’re pairing me up with Cas when the one with the ‘profound bond’ with him is right there.”

“Oh, haha. You’re hilarious,” Dean retorts at once.

“Hey man, I’m not the one who stayed in Purgatory for a year to find him.”

His glare takes on a murderous edge.

“Okay. You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up! Forever!”

Sam holds up his hands in either what’s either a show of innocence or surrender.

“Alright, alright. Well, other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all I got nothing.”

“So…what?” Dean says. “This-this all... This whole musical thing, everything, it's... it's all a coincidence? There is no case?”

“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case here,” he says sincerely this time.

“Come on. This has classic Trickster vibes all over it.” He almost wants to turn around and start yelling, Come on out Gabriel you bastard!

“Trickster’s dead, man. And he wasn’t just a trickster, he was an archangel. And they’re all gone too.”

“Could be a lower-rank angel?” Dean tries. “I mean, Zachariah pulled off an entire apocalypse world. And that place where we were both corporate drones. Before you know it, this’ll get all Buffy and it’ll be me and you singin’ and dancin’—“

“Dean…I think it’s just fans. Look, as long as they’re not putting another love spell on one of us I couldn’t really care less what they’re doing,” Sam says with some bitterness, clearly not looking back at that particular memory with any fondness. “Just writing some songs? I mean, it’s innocent enough.”

“Oh yeah, so innocent,” he scoffs. “They’re singing about our dead parents, your demon blood bender, the apocalypse, all of it! This is just…it’s make-believe for them! But it’s our lives!”

Sam runs a tired hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t get it either man. I wasn’t exactly thinking about the books’ entertainment value while Chuck was describing my sex life in vivid detail—“

“Don’t remind me,” he says, holding up a hand in disgust.

“—but I dunno. There’s obviously something about it they connected to, right? Something they related to, something that moved them, inspired them? And I guess…I mean, what’s wrong with that?”

There is so, so much wrong with that.

“I don’t know what story they’re reading and what Sam and Dean they’re ‘connecting’ to here. But it sure as hell ain’t us. I mean…they even made me blonde, dude.”

“It’s a high school play, what can you expect?” Sam laughs. “It was probably the closest wig they could find at Party City.”

Dean ignores him, muttering aloud as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

“The hair…the singing…the robots… the love story…”

“You really were bothered by that, weren’t you?” Sam gives his brother a curious look.

“SUPERNATURAL ISN’T A ROMANCE!” Dean snaps. “Look, these girls obviously don’t know what they’re talking about—“

“I dunno, Dean,” Sam said in a clearly taunting voice now. “Maybe you’re just jealous of what me and Cas have.”

He flushes. “W-what? I-I’m not—“

“We could give you two a name too, y’know? So you don’t feel left out? What about…Dee-stiel? CasDean?”

And he refuses to entertain this conversation any longer.

“Shut your face! Get in the car!”

Thankfully Sam notices the shift in tone and obliges at once.

Dean, meanwhile, takes a moment outside the car to glance around — almost as if checking to see if anyone overheard that comment. Not that it mattered. Who could overhear? No one even knew they were THE Sam and THE Dean. Who cared? He certainly didn’t care. He didn’t care at all...

(to be continued)

#if you were one of the people who offered to beta read back in march know I WILL be reaching out to because I need it lol #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #fanfic #spn 10x05 #also this is a given but if you did want to be tagged when this is posted hmu!#been having so much fun with this especially with writing the new songs #also tbh the musical itself is the closet I will get to writing a sam & cas fic so that's been fun too lol #ESPECIALLY because then I can immediately add dean's reaction to it which is typically 'time to walk straight off the stage'#it's also fun to write a s10 fic since I'm a 'dean's been in love since s8 at least' truther #anyways new to this and my untreated adhd means I make a gazillion typos/take forever to work on things/get distracted by new ideas but #literally every positive comment on that first post is the reason why I'm still workin' at it

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thevalleyisjolly · 3 years

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Thinking about alternate character classes lately, and I’m always thinking about A Crown of Candy at any given point in time, so without further ado, for your consideration:

Wizard!Theo, except that he’s the only wizard ever with a positive Strength modifier because that would be hilarious. Wizard!Theo, who learned more from Lazuli than anyone knew, whose magic isn’t loud or flashy but spell notes hidden in a false prayer book, a soft glow on the tips of his paws and a muttered breath as one of the princesses falls from the top of the staircase again only to land on their feet, as softly as a feather. In this world, he’s officially the royal tutor, because there are things that Caramelinda doesn’t know, but she does know what Lazuli taught him and she knows where his loyalties lie and she knows that one day, one day the spark she can see in Ruby’s eyes will need a teacher but will more importantly need a protector. And to the princesses, to the rest of the court, to the world, he’s a slightly gullible, rather awkward tutor who stands on ceremony far too much, and they laugh at him and his silly little sprinkle pet and isn’t he a bit of a large goon? Even Amethar forgets, every now and then, what he’s seen Theo do on a battlefield, to a battlefield, because as awkward as his social skills may be, Theo is committed to the part and he plays it well. In any lifetime, in any world, Theo loves his people and he’ll do what he has to for them.

Bonus subclass: School of Abjuration obviously, this squishy gummy bear has one mission, and that’s to protect people.

Rogue!Lapin, because obviously. Rogue!Lapin, who never summoned the Sugar Plum Fairy, who smiled and charmed and lied his way from the street to the service of a minor but respectable lord, and from there up and up the social strata until he is chamberlain to House Jawbreaker. Duke Jawbreaker doesn’t bother much with him, but Spearia Mentha takes one look at Lapin, standing too straight and tall, the accent of the common mountain folk still seeping out at his edges, his eyes sharp and clever even when bowing and murmuring obedience, and she thinks “Hmm.” And when her sweet baby has to go to Castle Candy as hostage, a safe and willing hostage, but a hostage nonetheless, she writes to dear sister Caramelinda and asks would it be alright if she sent someone from her own household, just to keep an eye on the boy, for her peace of mind as a mother? Liam arrives at Castle Candy, sans pig, plus one very stuffy guardian, and Lapin Cadbury looks up at the towering spires and parapets of the castle, and a small, rare smile flashes across his face for just a second.

Bonus subclass: Mastermind is really the only way to go, isn’t it?

Sorcerer!Amethar, but listen, alright, my kingdom for Sorceror!Amethar who grows up with magic as rage flowing through his veins, whose wrath manifests not as bursts of concentrated battle fury, but in wild surges of strange and powerful magic. There is magic in the blood and bones of House Rocks, an old and willful magic. His sisters protected him, as much as they could, but still, there are whispers, more so once the young prince becomes the grieving king with the eyes of the world on him. People mutter about the witch king of Candia, they say that he’s levelled armies with his sorcery, that he’s bewitched the Emperor Gustavo into friendship, that he’s dangerous and brings only death and destruction. And it hurts, it does, not because he cares what other people think, but because they aren’t all wrong. Look at him, the Unfallen, alive when so many have died. It hurts that he has so much power singing in his blood, and he’s the one who’s powerless, who can’t be the protector, who must be the protected. Why him? Why not strong Rococoa, or brilliant Lazuli, or kind Citrina, or cunning Sapphria? Why is he alive and not them, when he is the wildcard, the dangerous one, the last person who should be king?

Bonus subclass: I mean, it’s gotta be Wild Magic, no doubt about it.

Druid!Cumulous is another story that writes itself. Druid!Cumulous still swears the same vows of dedication and protection to Candia’s magic, Candia’s secrets, and so Candia itself rises to acknowledge that. It isn’t the red glow of the Hungry One that surrounds him when he fights, but the bright pink of the frosting sprites, the warm chocolate of the fudge brownies, the brilliant lemon-yellow of the river dragon’s scales, the slightest tint of sugar plum purple. All spirits are fickle and unpredictable and dangerous, but they can recognize faith and they can appreciate service and they can reward what is freely given. The Sugar Plum Fairy considers this one for a while. She has no little pet bunny in this world, no servant to demand wishes from. But fairies are jealous, too jealous. Hearts and minds and souls, of course they should be hers, wholly hers, why wouldn’t they be, and for all the vastness of her realm, all her secrets and all her magic, there is something more to Candia than what is just in her. So she lets this one be, and lays her trap for another prize, a bigger prize…

Bonus subclass: You could honestly make a good argument for Circle of the Shepherd or Circle of the Land, although Circle of the Moon is pretty great for more combat-focused war guys druids.

Warlock!Saccharina’s life is still a tragedy, because magic was only the most obvious thing that the nuns tried to beat out of her. Warlock!Saccharina is not born with lightning in her fingers and a storm in her heart, but she is born with a strength and a will that the nuns despise. In this world, Saccharina looks in the window, in the mirror, and she still sees a blue woman, a kind woman with a kind face, reaching out to her, comforting her when the nuns mistreat her, telling her wondrous stories and magical secrets. In this world, the Rocks sisters, held in a false afterlife, stage a jailbreak. Rococoa raises herself back to the living, cold with vengeance against the man who murdered her. Citrina hitches up her skirts and hikes off to Vegetania, prepared to visit as many dreams and instigate as many supernatural miracles as she needs in order to reform the Church. Sapphria laughs and winks and goes off to do something mysterious and terribly complex and probably very clever. And Lazuli? Lazuli goes to find her eldest niece, and to help her do something about the frankly terrible situation she’s in. She is no spirit of the dead that a small exorcism by a provincial abbess can banish, but something new, something more. And when Saccharina finally drowns the monastery, a grim smile on her face, it is with eyes and fingers that glow a brilliant, sharp blue.

Bonus subclass: Either Great Old One or Celestial, depending on how Lazuli fights her way back to the waking world. Reaching out to the mortal world from the afterlife? Probably Celestial. Something strange and mysterious that’s never happened before in all of creation, and isn’t entirely comprehensible even to her? Great Old One.

Barbarian!Jet grows up with so much rage inside her, but a rage for others, a fire for others. It’s a rage that goes bone-deep, born of so much love and fear, because Jet Rocks may be sheltered and immature and naive, but one thing she does know, one of the earliest things she knows, is that the world is dangerous for people like Ruby, people like Pops, the world does not like people like Ruby and Pops, and as young as she is, she’s already heard how people whisper and seen how they point at Pops when his back is turned. And if they found out about Ruby- It’s a different rage that drives Barbarian!Jet, not a mindless battle frenzy, but love sharpened to the keenest focus, to protect, to guard. In this world, and in every world, Jet Rocks loves her sister above all else, and will do anything to make sure she is safe. Her parents worry, of course. Caramelinda looks into her daughter’s eyes, sees hard steel and the heart of sacrifice, and she weeps when she looks into the mirror and sees the same, this is not the life she wanted for her. Amethar understands. He knows. He knew the minute his daughters were placed into his arms for the first time, and the instinct to protect something so precious, precious beyond measure. He just didn’t want his daughter to understand as well, not so soon, not so young.

Bonus subclass: Path of the Ancestral Guardian, I think, because Jet’s rage is rooted in and for her family. Also, imagine the confusion and the angst the first time Jet summons past ancestors to fight with her in battle, and none of them include her aunts because they’re too busy raising hell elsewhere.

Bard!Ruby tumbles out of the cradle with a cheerful tongue and a clever mind, and Amethar has to stop himself from calling after Sapphria, because Ruby is so much like her, so nimble on her feet, so clever with her words. But it’s Caramelinda that sees it first, how Ruby’s leaps and cartwheels hang just a little too long in the air, how Jet brightens and sharpens too fast after just a word from her. And it’s Theo, of course it’s Theo, who catches Ruby and Jet trying to rob the cookie jar with a spectral, definitely magic, definitely arcane hand floating in the air, where did she even learn that, he doesn’t have that spell, this is bad, this is very, very bad. Ruby’s more careful after that, after Mom’s lecture about how dangerous it is, and Pops just standing there, looking stern, nodding along to everything that Mom’s saying, not saying a word to the contrary. Her magic is just for Jet now, her and Jet and nobody else, and she does a very good job of pretending she doesn’t know anything else, pretending like she doesn’t feel the thrum inside of her, pretending like something isn’t singing in her blood with every leap and twirl and handstand.

Bonus subclass: College of Valour? It gets that combat flavouring without being as specific as College of Swords, but I’m open to suggestions.

Warlock!Liam, and he is so young, so lonely, roaming the forests around Castle Manylicks, when he finds her or maybe she finds him. Just a sweet little fairy who knows where to find the best seeds, the ones that have a little bit of magic in them, and here’s a lonely little boy who’s so interested in what she can show him! And then of course, this isn’t just any lonely little boy, this is the son of Duke Jawbreaker, someone royal, someone important. I’ll be your friend, she says, coy and sweet, a nice friend, not like your brothers. I know lots of things, secret things, magic things, that I can show you. Come with me, do you want to see something really neat? Her magic is almost golden, almost Bulbian, with the slightest whiff of something rich and sticky and sweet and purple, and Liam’s only glad that he has a friend now, someone who’s nice to him, who’s interested in the same things, who remembers his name and doesn’t pick on him because he likes seeds more than swords. Lonely children don’t need to be threatened or coerced, lonely children don’t need deals with the devil. Lonely children just need a kind voice and warm approval and someone to show them affection, and the Sugar Plum Fairy knows just how to work with that.

Bonus subclass: Gonna diverge from Lapin here and go with Archfey as the warlock/patron relationship, because Liam isn’t in a position where he has to pretend that his powers come from the Bulb, so the SPF can lean into her feyness more.

#dimension 20 #a crown of candy #long post #i realize this is a much more magic-heavy party so all the intrigue and secrets are cranked up to 1000 in this AU #a crown of candy spoilers

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emsartwork · 4 years

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Sorry if you’ve already answered this but J was wondering if you could talk more the girls childhood/growing up? Love what you’re doing btw, absolutely adore how you’ve basically recreated the Winx world! 💗

Thank you!!! and sure thing! long post ahead

BLOOM: she never really had any problems family wise, Vanessa and Mike told her she was adopted at like…. Age 7 or so (in a positive affirming way obvi) and even if any kids teased her about it she never doubted her parent’s love for her. Even with Daphne’s spell helping her blend in with earth life, Bloom still had a nagging sense she didn’t “fit”, and got lost in fantasy books and art whenever possible. Growing up she deals with some body image issues that probably stem from the whole wrong fit feeling. Bloom grew up an artistic and quiet kid, Mitzi and Selina were her best friends from childhood, and because they both had really strong personalities, Bloom often repressed her own feelings in order to play peace maker. Up until high school, where Mitzi, who was always the leader, slowly started to turn into a bully in order to gain the approval/fear of her peers, targeting Selina specifically. Bloom was more of a follower at the time and just didn’t want to loose her friends so she didn’t stand up to Mitzi but tried to treat Selina as if nothing had changed, which was not cool with Selina and she not-so-subtly started to reject Bloom as a friend. Bloom, for her part, did get her shit together and stand up to Mitzi, loosing her only other friend right before her senior year of highschool (she was still technically friends with Andy but they had also just broken up and everything was awkward lmao). Bloom regrets not standing up to Mitzi sooner, and wants to rekindle her friendship with Selina (and Mitzi if she’s willing to tone down the bitchiness).

STELLA: So Stella’s childhood is a little more complicated. Stella is the first SoLuna heir in Solarian history, and a very loud minority protested her very existence. Stella also had to stay close to the Second Sun of Solaria as a child, so she had a very solitary and confined early childhood in a wing of the Solarian castle. When she did figure out how to sneak out she was only 10 or so, and spent most of the time just wandering around the capital city. She didn’t have any problems in the city, but an off duty guard recognized her and took her back to the palace. Stella was then sent to an elite boarding school under a false name (Sasha), she formed close friends with Nova and Varanda, but the trio was the target of the rest of the school’s bullies (for various reasons). Junior high was peak nerd Stella, but she “princess Diary-ed” herself when starting high school and started placing all of her value in her appearance and status as a sex object. Her parents’ marriage was also starting to crumble and Stella felt like she had lost their love. Because Stella craves validation and affection, this lead to a couple bad relationships because the only way she could get people to “love her” in her brain was through physical intimacy, even if it didn’t really fill the void she felt. Nova and Varanda were her rocks during this period and Stella was able to learn to love herself first with their help. Stella was insanely nervous to leave her friends and go to Alfea, and tried to force friendships with other people originally, (this mostly lead to people thinking she was annoying and getting multiple censures from Griselda), and her first genuine connection on Magix was with “Prince Sky” (Brandon). Nova and Varanda were VERY worried when Stella first told them about “Prince Sky”(Brandon) and how fast they had gotten into a relationship and they may have stalked/threatened him on a visit to Stella but they eventually came around and started to like him. Stella being expelled was only kind of an accident, Varanda texted Stella in the middle of a Chemancy class her application to Alfea for the next year had been accepted and Stella got SUPER excited and blew up the classroom. She probably could have stayed in school but her response to Fraragona and Griselda’s “now what do you have to say for yourself young lady” was *giddy laughter* and “ i only wish the explosion had been big enough to send me forward to next year!!!!!” and griselda was like “either she goes or I go” and Stella was like “ya gurl i gone” of course her time back on Solaria didn’t go exactly as planned as her parents were just fighting every time they tried to do something together making her people pleasing/self blaming tendencies worse.

FLORA: ahhh my baby So Flora does remember her father, not a lot and she feel guilty she doesn’t remember more, but she was only 7 when he died. Alyssa remarried when Flora was 13, and eventually she adjusted to having a younger sister who she loves very much now. Due to Rhodos’s nature preservation needing a lot of room for study Flora and Miele grew up pretty far away from any town and didn’t have a lot of friends. This is primarily why Flora and Miele are so close despite their age difference, and why Flora took her role as protector so intensely; she was the only one there (I mean besides the parents obviously). Flora did well in school though she was quiet and reserved, which made making friends even harder than living in the middle of nowhere. She figured out the best way to make people like her was to give them what they wanted, and this snowballed into Flora becoming kind of doormat not comfortable with voicing her true feelings and faking a lot what people expected from her. Flora has a lot of repressed…… everything (Bloom mostly just has a lot of repressed anger she’s good with other emotions lmao) she has trouble identifying what she’s feeling and for the most part is content to leave her feelings buried as long as the surface remains calm. The Winx do help her start to access her feeling more, and encourage her whenever she does voice an opinion. Helia is a perfect match for her in the sense that his quiet nature leaves Flora to express herself without trying to mold herself into whatever she thinks he wants (of course on the flip side this also means Flora and Helia have issues with communication and repression but that’s another topic).

AISHA: hoo boy another complicated one. Aisha was raised in a strict environment, this mostly stems from her parents and their more…. anxious natures, but royalty on Andros is not as free as some of the other planets. Aisha’s world consisted of lessons and adults and rules and she had very little control over her own life. Aisha met Anne in a rare moment of freedom in the tidal gardens where Anne’s father worked. Anne was biding her time waiting for her dad to get off work so they could grab some dinner and was dancing. Aisha just watched her for a while before Anne noticed her and asked her if she wanted to play. The two formed a fast friendship, and Aisha finally started to feel like she had some sort of influence in her own life as she snuck out of lessons to play with Anne every evening she could(obviously their favorite thing to do was dance lol) Unfortunately Anne and her father disappeared one night. Aisha lost her only friend, the only social outlet she had, her one source of freedom, and couldn’t even figure out what had happened. Feeling so out of control lead to a pretty bad anxiety disorder for most of her teens, primarily triggered by the dark or being trapped in some way. She also has issues trusting others and letting people help her. Aisha started to act out, trying to exert any kind of control and relieve some of her anxiety. Her risk taking behavior got pretty bad, but she had started to tone it down after she met and bonded with Piff(royal business trip to Magix she skipped out on). Of course when the pixies went missing she wasn’t going to let her friendship vanish again and tracked them down with a not so healthy single minded determination.

TECNA: born to higher class parents, Tecna had greatness thrust upon her from an early age. She received extra training and education basically from birth, which she was fine with for the most part. Tecna grew up being able to handle academic pressure very well and met all of her teacher’s and parent’s expectations. She and Riven had a brief collision as preteens in a school before Riven got expelled. Tecna’s one issue was that of her emotional intelligence, Zenith doesn’t really place an emphasis on that, so she was able to advance through high school very predictably until she attended a non-Zenith based workshop for magic. She found herself socially ostracized and very very confused. Of course Tecna had never met a subject she couldn’t master and emotions wouldn’t be an exception right??? Wrong. Zenith’s information about the brain and the chemicals produced was of no help, her teachers and parents didn’t understand why Tecna suddenly had this new interest in such an illogical subject, and worst of all, Tecna realized she didn’t understand her own brain chemicals. Tecna had a mini existential crisis, realized she had no idea what she even wanted to do with her life or why it mattered and applied to the Alfea Fairy program because “FAIRY MAGIC EMOTION MAGIC HELP” also it would offer her strong emotional experiences(transformations basically require it), the opportunity to work closely in groups, and personally obverse her dorm-mates emotional states. She got way more than she bargained for but doesn’t regret it a bit.

MUSA: my angst child T-T so basically, the first half of her childhood is p good, her parents work really hard and don’t always have enough money but the family unit is pretty stable. At around 12, Musa’s mom gets sick. Nobody is too worried at first, but she never seems to get better and she takes a big turn for the worse when Musa is about 16, Matlin is finally diagnosed with Core Failure Syndrome. CFS is similar to Core Fatigue, but while Core Fatigue can be remedied fairly easily with rest and magic, CFS is virtually incurable unless it’s caught really early. The causes are still unknown, and the symptoms (fatigue, nausea, cognition issues, and muscle weakness) can be prolonged but mild until it’s too late. In the later stages (extreme fatigue, numbness in the extremities, chest pain, joint pain, memory/focus issues, inability to keep food down) all you can do is try to make the afflicted comfortable. Ho-boe is understandably distraught, and tries to freelance write for music but goes into a pretty bad depressive state. Musa has a few odd jobs here and there, and thats mostly what’s keeping them afloat among heavy medical debt. Musa latches on to her mother for emotional support as Ho-boe is super dissociated. When Matlin does pass as Musa turns 18, Ho-boe finally breaks, and violently destroys every last reminder of Matlin because he can’t deal with the pain. Musa, who has suddenly had her one emotional anchor cut off, is super freaked out and scared by this and it really damages their relationship going forward. Musa becomes incredibly anxious, and can’t really process her mother's death because her father won’t talk about it with her and is still shut off emotionally. Moving to Magix only worsened it as Musa rebelled and went after music with a desperate passion. Applying to Alfea was a way for Musa to get out of the house, and she and her father weren’t on speaking terms when she did leave for the college. Musa had planned on learning more magic to further her career as a musician, special effects infusing magic into a song rubbing shoulders with rich and well connected people who could possibly get her connected to the big shots in music….. The winx situations had her change some of her long term plans a little, but her connection with the group + her separation anxiety and fierce loyalty didn’t really leave any other choice lol

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natsubeatsrock · 3 years

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The Rewrite of Fairy Tail: Part 25 (Ultear)

Was Last Ages a good idea?

Part of me wants to say that the answer is yes considering Opening 16 having my favorite visuals of any Fairy Tail opening. The clock twitch at the start is one of my personal favorite aspects of the opening and it wouldn't be there if Last Ages didn't happen.

Of course, pedantic issues like that aren't enough to blind me to the weight of what I'm advocating. Ultear is one of my favorite characters in the series. I wouldn't suggest essentially writing out one of my favorites if it didn't need to happen.

But that's just it. Did it need to happen? (Don’t worry, we’ll get to talk about Ultear as a character.)

A good place to start is its place in the Grand Magic Games arc. The reason it needed to happen, as the story goes, is that multiple people need to be saved from situations and the difference of one minute, while also remembering what happened in the alternate minute, was enough to save the lives of multiple people. Most notably, Lucy was able to avoid being killed and Gray wasn't impaled by multiple dragons. It's framed as a sacrifice that caused other people to live.

At the risk of sounding callous, I'm not sure this was really all that much of a concern. For all the people who did get affected by the spell Last Ages, there is one important person who wasn't: Natsu. As sad as it might be to consider our favorite characters dying it wasn't like their actions stopped the Eclipse Gate even after Last Ages. Lucy knew how to stop the Gate, but she didn't destroy it. Neither did Gray, Juvia, Lyon, Meredy, Baccus, Romeo, Macao, Wakaba, Cobra, Gajeel, Wendy, Laxus, or anyone else whose name isn't Natsu Dragneel. It would have been tragic, but the result would have been similar. (An interesting "what if" scenario I may or may not consider.)

And consider the scale of the event in the arc. The entire world was set back by one minute. It's described as innocuous enough that it was barely noticed by most people. Of course, this is juxtaposed with how important it meant to the actual people at the moment. However, consider what that means for the majority of people in the universe. Ultear could have done nothing and it would have as much of an effect for the people within the series universe.

This is, of course, not to say that Ultear's sacrifice didn't matter past Grand Magic Games. This is to say that the idea that this sacrifice changed a lot isn't as true as Mashima would have us believe and that there might not have been much of a need to have Ultear get basically written out of the series.

After using Last Ages, Ultear becomes a part of the time stream, showing up at times when it gets messed up. (At least, that's the explanation I'm going with.) She makes two as her younger self in this form. We obviously need to talk about (read: you're going to read my interpretation of) these moments. But, I want to start with the second moment first and you'll see why.

The second meeting was Ultear's appearance during Wendy and Chelia's fight with DiMaria. Now, there are issues with their interaction in regards to the Third Origin, but that's for other reasons. This wouldn't necessarily be impossible if Last Ages didn't happen. After all, she's doing this in conjunction with the rest of Crime Sorciere. The only reason this comes off as shocking is exactly what she went through Last Ages. As long as they show up and Ultear remains a member, there's no reason for she shouldn't be in the fight. Heck, we may have gotten interactions between her and Gray.

And, with that totally non-bitter transition (I'm actually okay with that), let's talk about the meeting between Gray and Ultear during the Sun Village arc. This is part of a trend wherein Ultear, either implicitly or explicitly, serves as a reminder for the fact that you shouldn't sacrifice your life to save other people, even if you love them. Her sacrifice reminds Gray that he ought to continue living on for other people.

But, and I again recognize this does sound callous, that's stupid.

I mean, it's exactly the kind of message he ought to keep with him, especially in those moments. But, I'm not sure that this is a point that ought to be beating in the ground as much as it was, especially to the point it was in the way it was. In Gray's specific context, it makes symbolic sense that he is saved by her. But, shouldn't Gray already know that from as far back after Galuna Island?

It could be argued that Gray needs to have these lessons reinforced multiple times through his journey as they clearly haven’t sunken in. To a degree, I understand that as a realistic portrayal of depression. But, what happened to “I will seal your darkness away”? Isn’t it possible to have him remember that instead of Ultear sacrificing herself?

And that gets to another thing. What does this mean for Ultear's character? Much of the reason that she's willing to do this at all is that she believes that she is a terrible person at heart and can't make up for what she's done over the years. Therefore, she wants to use her life force to help other people's lives.

I don't think that is in and of itself a terrible motivation for an action like this from a reformed villain who thinks the way Ultear seemed to. I don't even think that she's entirely wrong to think so, considering she wanted to kill present Rogue to stop future Rogue. I could even understand our hypothetical character going through with his or her choice and going on to save a large number of lives, as Last Ages does.

However, this is a Mashima villain. He's stated in the past that he likes to make villains that are more than just evil. While we can talk about how he did with that goal, this feels like something uncharacteristic of his villains.

And even if he wasn't open about his penchant to redeem villains, we'd absolutely know something is up. Jellal was in a similar spot during Nirvana - ashamed of his existence and ready to die - but he ended up being a better (not sure good is the right word) person. Meredy was convinced to become good and even was part of the reason Ultear started to want to change. Flare changes during the Grand Magic Games arc into Sun Village arc. Sabertooth becomes a good guild (not that they should have been evil anyway). A lot of Alvarez Empire arc involves Brandish's struggle of doing good and/or evil and Irene realizes she actually loved Erza before stabbing herself. Oracion Seis joins Jellal in Crime Sorciere (under duress).

In a sense, Last Ages is Mashima's way of saying, "This one's staying evil. They can't change." In another series with another writer, that wouldn't be annoying. With Fairy Tail, this is clearly purposeful. My job isn't necessarily to speculate as to why, but I can't think why that would make sense to him except that it makes the parallel to Ur for Gray. In a world where she doesn't come back to relevancy in the final arc, I might be to accept that as fine. Considering she did come back and that the continued relevance of Crime Sorciere past the Grand Magic Games, it’s not as if I can’t do things with her character if she were to stay alive.

Therefore, I'm actually going against canon in this regard. In the rewrite, Ultear wants to go through with the spell Last Ages but is prevented from doing so. (I’m debating who stops her.) With this, Ultear continues to be an active character during the series. What the circumstances are surrounding her not going through with it and what she does now that she's a part of the series are topics worth talking about. However, I'd like to save those for another time.

For now, though, I feel that it's worth mentioning is that not every villain has to be saved or redeemed. I'm not here to argue that every villain is equally deserving of a second chance, even though I absolutely believe such to be true on some level. Some villains will and should stay evil until the end. But if Jellal is going to struggle to do the right thing, I think Ultear should try to as well.

#fairy tail #the rewrite of fairy tail #ultear milkovich #part 25 #fun fact #this was one of the eariler drafts #i wrote this close to the same time #i wrote the piece on lisanna #that was around the time i realized #i really am going to be rewriting this series huh?#also i'm here before halloween #like i said i would #out of series follow-up to come

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basementsushi · 3 years

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Cinderella - movie reviews

Movie: Cinderella (1950)

Would I recommend: Yes - it’s another classic that’s still quite enjoyable today!

Had seen before: Yes (but couldn’t remember it)

Main movie, prequel, sequel, or midquel: Main movie

Theater or straight to video: Theater

Keep reading below for fun facts, my thoughts, and origin details (contains spoilers)!

Also further below are my reviews for the sequels!

Thoughts:

Why do all the mice and birds have clothes? BIRDS DO NOT NEED SHOES

Cinderella’s rant at the clock tower truly shows the universal hatred of being woken up by a clock in the morning

Cinderella certainly has more attitude than I remembered! It’s wonderful

I can’t help wondering why the prince’s baby portrait shows him as a blonde, and from a toddler on he has black hair

What’s going on with the fever dream bubbles? What was in that tea…

I love how much the mice care about Cinderella, they truly do everything they can to help her prepare for the ball

There’s a lot more humor in the movie than I remembered - a lot of it is a bit subtle, I think some may have just gone over my head when I was little

I love the prince’s attitude (hiding a yawn while meeting some of the ladies, and rolling his eyes at the step-sisters)

The king is a bit creepy, he’s so obsessed with having grandkids, to the point that he says some of the ladies must have potential to be great mothers (before correcting himself to say wives)!

It’s wonderful that Cinderella is so appealing to the prince because she’s not fawning over him or his position - he first notices her because she’s admiring the palace beauty instead of trying to gain his attention, and becomes more fascinating with her later when he realizes she’s interested in him (she doesn’t even know he’s the prince at the time!)

While spending time with the prince why does Cinderella splash her GLOVED hand in the fountain?

The poor grand duke.. He may be my favorite character, he’s so sweet and trying so hard. I feel so bad when he’s so panicked about telling the king Cinderella has disappeared (though of course he’d be panicked, the king threatened to kill him if anything went wrong!)

Another reason to love the grand duke - he is literally the only character who acknowledges the very real concern that the slipper may fit many women!

I have noticed that Cinderella wears a black choker both with her ball gown and with her wedding gown. I don’t know what to do with this knowledge.

Fun facts:

Cinderella’s prince is the one known as “Prince Charming”

While the Brothers Grimm wrote a tale about “Cinderella”, the Disney movie draws inspiration from Cendrillon (Cinderella, or The Little Glass Slipper), a tale by Charles Perrault, first published anonymously in 1697 in Paris (over a century before the Brothers Grimm tale, which differs in many ways) - for my research I read both versions, and highly recommend you do the same! The movie stays mostly true to Perrault’s tale, though personally I prefer the Grimm version.

Cinderella was originally going to be a short, but the ideas were too complicated to fit, so instead they made it into a movie

Origin: (Cendrillon, or The Little Glass Slipper, Charles Perrault tale) In this tale a gentleman, who had an incredibly sweet and good daughter from his first wife, married again, this time a haughty woman with much pride. She showed these traits almost immediately after the wedding. The step-mother disliked the man's daughter, especially since her goodness made her own daughters pale in comparison, so she made the girl clean and do the most horrible of tasks and sleep on a horrible straw bed, while her daughters had only the finest of things. The girl dared not tell her father, for he was completely under the influence of her stepmother.

Her step-sisters began to call her names, among them Cinderella, because she would sit among the cinders and ashes.

It then was that the king's son announced a ball, and that many young ladies were invited. The step-sisters were quite excited to attend, and spent much time planning their appearance, and Cinderella, in her goodness, helped them prepare. On the day of the ball Cinderella saw them off, then began to cry. Her godmother, who was a fairy, saw her crying and came to see what was wrong. When Cinderella told her she too wished to attend the ball she said that she would make it so.

She had Cinderella bring her a pumpkin, six mice, a rat, and six lizards, which she transformed into a fine, gold-gilded coach, fine horses, a coachman, and footmen. When Cinderella asked her about a dress she touched her with her wand, transforming her rags into cloth of gold and silver, covered in many jewels. Her godmother warned her before she left to leave before midnight, when everything would transform back into what it was before.

When Cinderella arrived all were stunned by her beauty, and admired her grace when they saw her dance. A fine meal was served, and Cinderella surprised her sister's by sitting near them and giving them some of the fine fruit the prince had given her (they did not know it was her). Shortly before midnight she returned home, and when her step-sisters returned home they told tales of a beautiful and kind princess who had been in attendance.

The following evening she attended again, dressed even more magnificently. She was having such a wonderful time she nearly forgot to leave before midnight, and had to hurriedly flee as the clock began to strike twelve. In her hurry she left a glass slipper behind, which the prince found. By the time she returned home she was once again in her dirty clothes, with the exception of her single glass slipper.

A few days later the prince announced that he would marry whomever could fit into the slipper. Many tried, including the step-sisters, but no matter how hard they tried none fit. Cinderella, watching all this amused, said they should see if it fit her. The gentleman whom the prince had set agreed she should try, as the prince had given him orders to let everyone try.

The slipper fit her perfectly, and her step-sisters were astonished, even more so when she pulled the matching flipper from her pocket. At that moment Cinderella's godmother came in and touched her wand to Cinderella, dressing her in things more fine than she had ever worn before. Her step-sisters, now recognizing her, threw themselves at her feet begging forgiveness. She raised them up and embraced them, forgiving them completely.

Cinderella was taken to the prince, and after a few days they were married. Cinderella, in all her goodness, gave her sisters homes in the palace as well, and that same day matched them with lords in the court.

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Movie: Cinderella II: Dreams Come True (2002)

Would I recommend: Yes*. You can definitely feel the ideas/influence from when this was going to be a TV show, it feels closer to three separate episodes rather than one overarching movie plot. *Overall it’s not as good as the first movie, but if you enjoyed the first and want some silly stories about events that take place after this may be a fun watch.

Had seen before: No

Main movie, prequel, sequel, or midquel: Sequel

Theater or straight to video: Straight to video

Keep reading below for fun facts and my thoughts (contains spoilers)!

Thoughts:

Cinderella is still rocking a choker with all of her gowns

Ball gowns are Cinderella’s Clark Kent glasses - with a gown on everyone immediately recognizes her, with no fancy gown she blends and no one recognizes her as the princess

I like that Cinderella questions many of the customs at the palace - that she shouldn’t make her own breakfast, that people can’t just choose where they sit at dinner, or wondering about essentially same colored napkins - it’s quite relatable

WHY DOES PART OF THE PLOT INVOLVE JAC BECOMING A HUMAN

There are color changing strings of lights at the Spring Festival - historical accuracy be darned

The fairy godmother needs the get “bippity boppity boo” embroidered on her sleeves or something, it’s her only spell and she still manages to forget it half the time

Well the movie has mice romance sub-plot, now all it needs is the kitchen sink… [edit from later in the movie: LUCIFER AND POM POM? That’s it, they’ve covered every possible love sub-plot]

Quite a 180 from the first movie, I actually am liking Anastasia (one of the step-sisters), and the other begins to seem better as well

Fun facts:

This was originally going to be a TV series, but it got cancelled, and the ideas adapted into a movie instead

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Movie: Cinderella III: A Twist in Time (2007)

Would I recommend: Yes - it’s certainly a fun sequel to the original, I’m finding myself debating whether I like it or the original better, and honestly, I think this one might be winning!

Had seen before: No

Main movie, prequel, sequel, or midquel: Sequel

Theater or straight to video: Straight to video

Keep reading below for my thoughts (contains spoilers)!

Thoughts:

I’m not 100% sure, it’s pretty subtle, but I think from the opening song this movie takes place a year after the first one

Lady Tremaine is so much more evil in this one! It shows in her use of magic too, hers is green, while the fairy godmother’s and Anastasia’s are white/blue

I love how much more independent and clever Cinderella is in this one - she’s taking control of her life, a true fighter!

SHE WEARS A SIZE 4.5? What is she, a fae?

Aww, Anastasia reminds the king so much of his wife (who I can tell through inference as passed away)

It’s amazing how some genuine kindness and care changes Anastasia’s personality and outlook, I sympathize with her so much in this movie - it really shows how much she just wants to be loved and appreciate for who she is

Good prince, questioning the weird animal interactions

OMG the prince is dramatic as heck, when told he was forbidden to take another step down the stairs he just yeeted himself out the window instead

#cinderella #movie #movie review #charles perrault #brothers grimm #sequel

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meldelen · 4 years

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Olvidado Rey Gudú - A review

“En ocasiones, cuando se embriagaba, Sikrosio decía cosas extrañas. Señalaba al Norte, y murmuraba: «De la Selva, llega el misterio». Indicaba después hacia el Este: «De la Estepa, la destrucción, el fuego, la muerte...». Luego, volvíase hacia el Sur: «Del otro lado de las Lisias, el sueño, lo imposible..., y la mentira». Por fin, con voz donde latía una misteriosa tristeza, señalaba a Occidente: «Y de más allá de las tundras, el olvido».”

Here goes, finally, my re-reading of this classic of Spanish fantasy. How, don’t you recognize it? Not even the author? Shame. Olvidado Rey Gudú is the masterpiece - and more than that, the life-lasting work - of an author who was the third woman to occupy the RAE, winner of the Cervantes Prize, member of the Hispanic Society and nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature. She has a thousand more awards, which are explained for one reason only: her prose is perfect. Difficult, but perfect. And she provides a combination that until now I have only seen in someone like Tolkien: merging fantasy, that genre so reviled by high literature, with a perfect literary technique.

Yes, I don't understand why some people compare her to George R.R. Martin - or even hinting that she should have learned from him (!?!?). It's the other way around. The only person with whom this author can be compared is with Tolkien himself, and it is not a trivial comparison, because the old English Professor and father of the genre was equally exquisite, refined with his prose; and like him, Matute makes her words sing, and also her words hurt, sometimes making you reread a paragraph again so you can try to figure out where that wound came from.

Now, if what you are expecting is a pleasant, fast paced book, full of swearwords, tits and dragons, then this is not Olvidado Rey Gudú. This book, which took her a lifetime to write, her life work, tells of the rise and fall of the fictional Olar dynasty, in the imagined kingdom of Olar. It is a considerable thick book, but until beyond the middle of the book, it reads very fast and very well - if you are in the habit of reading! Because nowadays it seems that books have to be easy to swallow, like a liquefied porridge...

Kingdom of Olar, location of the events.

Thousands of characters pass through your eyes, each one more endearing than the previous one, although caution, Olvidado Rey Gudú does not provide a happy ending, nor does it have a happy beginning or development. Only the title is a song to melancholy. The book is melancholic. A child of war, with her childhood shattered, Matute suffered in the flesh of a writer and in inspiration the trauma of the Spanish Civil War, which had her Muse dead rather than alive for most of her life - and still she managed to write what she wrote! Thus, you do not have before you a story that tries to convince you, but the author writes for herself, how she wants and what she wants, without bothering to be logical, without fear of being misunderstood, because it is not easy to understand what you are reading.

Several topics you cross with this book: memory, oblivion, loss, hatred, cruelty, ill-fated love. Most of her characters - particularly the males - are absolutely hateful, and most of her characters - particularly the females - behave incomprehensibly. There are magical and strange events that the author will not bother to explain to you, because explanations are superfluous; and it is here where the book becomes difficult to digest. There is no purpose, it is not intended to show you anything. Lean out and read, and don't ask for more.

Each character is unforgettable in their own way, but Queen Ardid manages to out-stand, probably her favorite character, the orphan girl who grew up among vineyards accompanied by a goblin (Trasgo) and a sorcerer (Hechicero), and wise as she was, devised the perfect plan to take revenge on her father’s murderer; marry him and become the queen of his kingdom. However, her wisdom played a trick on her by deciding to extirpate - magically, it is understood - the heart of her only son, Prince Gudú: incapable of love by such a spell, it will take years for Ardid to discover that she has created a monster. But she will find out, and she will regret it.

Press note with the last edition, including illustrations and new notes.

Around this monster that is Gudú a mesh of characters is articulated, and which, to a greater or lesser extent, will be victims of his monstrosities. To highlight, the Princess Tontina and her magical innocence, his cousin, Predilecto, with more shape of a king than Gudú himself precisely for his ability to love; Ondina, fairy of the waters, who in trying to love and understand humans will forge her own annihilation - just like the goblin himself - and many other characters who suffer the terrible decision of Ardid, without even knowing why or how.

The ending is devastating, because no character survives the monstrosity, except Gudú, who is punished, without understanding why, to contemplate the collapse of his kingdom in oblivion, that kingdom that cost him a whole life to build and lacks purpose when everyone who filled it is gone. Thus, the author constructs a tribute to the melancholy of loss and how the lack of love, or the inability to love, is the greatest of the mutilations.

Olvidado Rey Gudú is a lyrical, symbolic, literary tale that more often than not doesn’t pretend to relate concrete events, but build allegories - even the author's intention is seen when she grants her characters names as curious as they are symbolic, and she laughs at herself through Ardid and Gudú.

That is why it is so difficult for many people to read this book, so they call it boring and hard to go through, and that is why, I am afraid, it has never been translated into English or popularized, not even in Spain; which seems to me a terrible crime, considering the literary height of its author. But since I don't want to be a pushy snob either, I have to admit that the book itself becomes difficult to follow more or less at the height in which the characters of Tontina and Predilecto, who grant us the most beautiful love story, disappear.

Quote from the book. Illustration: Àngel Lluís Sànchez.

In short, a masterpiece, difficult, strange, hard to read, but a masterpiece after all. We have had the privilege of meeting a Spanish Tolkien, and we have not recognized her, because we are not up to such a narrative. Hopefully one day we will be.

As for the rest, I recommend it to fantasy lovers who are not afraid to face a challenge. In the end, the journey pays off, albeit a painful journey, with no reward in the end; a personal testament of the same author and the time she had to live.

#olvidado rey gudú #books #ana maría matute #reviews #my reviews

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pri-the-writer · 5 years

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Fairies and Fowls

Here’s a peak at my piece for the Fowl Mood zine, which you can find at @artemis-fowl-zine

“I’m sorry, you want us to do what exactly?” Holly asked, much to Foaly’s apparent dismay. On the hard light screen he was projected onto, the centaur rolled his eyes and sighed before he spoke again.

“For the last time, play Dungeons and Dragons with me! It’s not that hard to understand, Holly,” Foaly explained again. Holly smirked a tad, sitting back in her special chair- Artemis had customized it to her proportions and height, so that she matched their eye level when seated, or a “toddler’s chair mixed with a salon chair” as Artemis liked to call it- then said, “No, I know, it’s just a little funny to me, is all.”

“Yes, I didn’t take you of all people to be a fan of role-playing games.” Artemis chimed in, smirking as well. On his screen, Foaly rolled his eyes before saying, “I didn’t, at first. But then my nephew got into them and then he got me into them and- look, do you want to play or not?”

The two humans and fairy, all seated around a table in one of the Fowl Manor’s parlor rooms, exchanged a look at each other to consider it. Eventually, they shrugged in unison and Holly said, “Sure, I guess it can’t hurt.”

“Excellent! Now let me explain the rules,” Foaly said, before going off on a tangent about the rules and guidelines for the game that even puzzled Artemis somewhat, before asking, “Got it?”

They all nodded, two lying and another stretching the truth. Nevertheless, Foaly continued on, unfazed. For this impromptu game, Foaly had Holly bring in several items, including a hard light table, television screen, and tablets for the three of them that would hold the info for their characters. “Now, I have here several options for characters, but I’m going to start with the ones I think you’ll like best. Artemis, I was thinking you could be a rogue, for obvious reasons, but they require a certain amount of dexterity you lack. So then I thought, what about a bard?” Foaly suggested, prompting a smirk from Butler and a snicker from Holly.

“A bard? As in someone who sings and performs? Why exactly does that fit me?” Artemis asked, confused. Foaly huffed, then explained, “Bards sometimes sing, yes, but they also can read poetry or play instruments alone. They also have a spell called Vicious Mockery where you can do damage with words alone.”

“... That does appeal to me.” Artemis admitted.

“Now, Holly, I thought you might be a good fit for a ranger or druid. A ranger is a rogue who works on the edges of nature, protecting people from harm while using the forces of nature to their benefit. A druid is someone who communes with nature and casts spells with the will of the forest.” Foaly explained. Holly considered for a moment, then said, “I think the ranger one sounds interesting. Kinda similar to what I do with LEP and all.”

“Right! And Butler, you seemed a good fit for a paladin, a Holy warrior dedicated to a sacred oath.” Foaly explained. Butler raised an eyebrow and asked simply, “A Holy warrior?”

“Focus on the dedicated to an oath part. That seems like you, doesn’t it? Plus, there’s a sort of romantic air to paladins.” Foaly added quickly. Butler hummed quietly, then nodded. On his screen, Foaly clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Excellent! Now, I’ve already made your character sheets for you, so that will be all set.”

He sent the character sheets to the trio’s tablets, revealing Artemis was a human bard, Holly was an elven ranger, and Butler was a goliath paladin. After typing some commands into his computer, the hard light table came to life, creating a miniature landscape for the adventurers to roam in. It seemed Foaly had already made little versions of their characters for the board as well, evident from the three individuals on the board who looked like them.

One was a human male, dressed in a fine shirt and pants, along with a black velvet vest adorned with silver buttons. He carried nothing else save a book, which was- according to Artemis’s character sheet- a book of poems. Another was a female elf, dressed in hunting clothes and a long cloak draped around her shoulders. She carried a bow and quiver of arrows with her, along with twin daggers. The final character was a gargantuan Goliath male, dressed in fine armor and wielding a sword and a shield bearing the symbol of the Fowl family.

“Foaly, I love you but you are such a nerd,” Holly said with a chuckle as she looked over everything. Foaly snorted and said, “If being passionate and prepared makes me a nerd, then d’arvit I’m a nerd.”

“Alright, alright. So how do we start?” Holly asked with a grin.

Foaly nodded, satisfied, and said, “Easy. I give you a quest. You three are adventurers and for whatever reason you choose, are out searching for a noble quest. Soon enough in your journey you find a small village and seek out the local tavern to try and find some news of a possible job. As you enter the tavern, which is called Haven’s Rest, you notice that it is surprisingly empty. Normally taverns at least have one or two patrons milling about, so to see it completely empty like this is a bit odd.

“Nevertheless, you head in and see there is a notice board pinned to the right wall of the tavern. At the counter, there is the sole person inside besides you three, a pretty blonde half-elf wiping down the bar. What do you do?” Foaly asked the three of them, looking up from his tablet expectantly. Artemis thought it over for a moment, then said, “I suppose I’ll check the notice board.”

“I’ll join him.” Butler added. Holly shrugged a bit and said, “I guess while they’re looking at that I’ll get us some drinks? Or at least ask the barmaid what’s going on in town.”

“Alright, Artemis, Butler, you two head over to the notice board. You see some normal things like an advertisement to help thatch a roof, a sheepherding job out in the meadows, and a job offer to work at the general store, but the sign that catches your eyes first reads Help! Mayor kidnapped by a dragon! 10,000 gold to anyone who can rescue him. Holly, you walk up to the bar and startle the woman standing behind it, who quickly composes herself and says-” Foaly cleared his voice, then said in a bad impression of a feminine voice, “Oh, hello! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Wasn’t really expecting customers today- what can I get you?”

After struggling not to die laughing at Foaly’s voice for the woman, Holly replied, “I- I was hoping to get a few mugs of whatever’s good for my friends and I.”

“The woman smiles sadly at you before saying, I’m so sorry, we don’t really have anything except this awful old ale. That terrible dragon smashed the rest of our supplies last week.” Foaly narrated to Holly.

“A dragon? Like the one that stole your mayor?” Holly asked, earning a glare from Foaly.

“Holly, you don’t know about that yet. Only Artemis and Butler have read the poster.” Foaly corrected her. Artemis smirked a bit, and then said, “Oh barmaid, this dragon you speak of- is it the same one that kidnapped your mayor?”

Foaly huffed and rolled his eyes, then said in his female impression, “Yes, it is. The fearsome beast flew into town last week, wreaked havoc and ate the cattle. Our brave mayor tried to make her leave, but she just snatched him up and flew off to his cave. We haven’t anyone strong or brave enough to go after them, so we put up notices and sent word to the capital. Oh, I fear the dear man is already dead!”

“Where is the dragon’s cave?” Butler inquired simply.

“Why, it’s at the peak of the mountains just north of here. You folk wouldn’t happen to want to go there, would you? I’d advise you to take an army if you do. The beast is quite terrible and monstrous.”

“I tell her we can handle it, then leave.” Butler told Foaly, who laughed at the human and replied, “Alright then. Do you two follow him?”

“I think I would like to get some information on the dragon. How large is she? Does she breathe fire? Do they know of any weaknesses she may have?” Artemis listed off. Holly shrugged and said, “I think I’ll head out with Butler.”

“Alright then, Holly and Butler head outside of the bar and Artemis, you join them after getting some information from the barkeep. What do you all do now?” Foaly asked with a grin, obviously pleased with this turn of events.

“I suppose the best thing to do would be to purchase any supplies we might need for the trip. Is there a store in town?” Butler asked Foaly, ever focused on the mission at hand. Foaly nodded in response and answered, “Yes, there is. Across from the tavern is the general store, inside you find all manners of goods and supplies to aid you. Two elves run the store, a younger one who seems a tad nervous and an older one who seems very serious. He looks up at you from his place behind the counter and says, Welcome to Kelp’s General Store, how may I help you?” Foaly said this in an impression of Trouble- no matter how bad it was, Holly could recognize it- and Holly bust out laughing at the silly voice. Oh, Trouble would kill Foaly if he heard this. Butler merely rolled his eyes with a smirk before he said, “We need supplies for a trip up the mountain.” “We’re going to kill the dragon and save the mayor.” Holly added after her laughter died down. Foaly replied with his Trouble impression, “Really? Well then, you can have a discount. We need that damn thing dead.” Foaly pinched his nose, switching to a nasal voice, “Yeah! It ate Mommy’s cow!” Then he barked in Trouble’s voice, “Oh shut it, Grub.” “Holy Frond, this is hilarious.” Holly chuckled, grinning at the centaur.

#artemis fowl #eoin colfer #artemis fowl zine #a fowl mood #zine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #fic #dnd #Dungeons and Dragons #fairies and fowls #holly short #domovoi butler #foaly #trouble kelp #grub kelp

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thewhiterabbit42 · 5 years

Text

What Lies Beneath

Pairing: Gabriel x reader, some Sam x reader and Dean x reader, some Debriel if you squint

Summary: The reader tries to move on after Gabriel’s death. Is she losing her mind, or is there more going on than there seems?

Written for: @gone-to-fight-the-fairies

Drunk drabble request: Gabriel, yellow, succulent plant

Word Count: 3409

Warnings/Tags: canon divergent, swearing, some sexual situations but no smut

A/N: Admittedly, this started as a drunk drabble, and after I hit about 1k the idea just stuck with me and I finished it sober. I really love what was started and hope I get to play around more with this in the future.

You don’t know why they remind you of him. If there’s any plant Gabriel’s been tied to, it’s lilies, but that’s not what caught your eye when you went looking for something in honor of the archangel.

“Yellow succulents?” Sam’s the only one to say a word as you add them to the arrangement in the middle of the underground garden devoted mostly to spell ingredients. He makes a face as if impressed. “Fitting.”

They are. They’re hardy little suckers that can endure conditions in which most living things would shrivel up and die. Perhaps its that resilience that made you go with them. Perhaps it’s the fact the warm color reminds you of how he was before Asmodeus got his hands on him. The same you saw start to bloom again in the last few days leading up to his sacrifice.

Now, he’s just another spot in an ever growing memorial as you try to keep his, and so many others’, memories alive.

A little morbid, don’t you think? The thought slides across your consciousness, unbidden.

You mentally bat at it, sending it back from where it came as you reassure yourself that there’s nothing wrong with a tribute for someone who saved the lives of everyone living under this roof.

***

It irritates you, the way no one remembers. You remind yourself they didn’t know him, not really, but it eats away at you the more times they pass your display without so much as a glance. You’re not certain anyone’s even noticed there is a memorial, let alone a central spot for him in it.

Ingrates.

The word echoes beneath your breath, drawing Dean’s attention from where he’s clipping a few sprigs of lavender.

“Did you say something?” The dent between his brows suggests he’s heard what you said, and you don’t blame him for the odd look he shoots your way. Who under the age of sixty even uses that word?

“Nobody cares,” you tell him, carefully adjusting some of the stones surrounding the plants. “It’s like none of them remember what it cost to get them here.”

Dean pauses what he’s doing, staring down at the soft purple in his hand. He takes a moment to consider his words. You’re not sure if it’s a call for appreciation or concern, because he’s usually not this thoughtful when it comes to your conversations.

You can practically hear Gabriel’s voice in your ear. Don’t look the gift of an active-brain-cell-using Winchester in the mouth.

You almost smile, until Dean speaks, and an inexplicable absence wells up within you.

“They remember,” your friend assures. “Maybe not every minute of every day, but they know it wasn’t just Sam and I who got them here.”

It helps in that it softens the brunt of your anger, but you're not certain you prefer the sadness that pools in its wake.

***

You miss him. His presence. The way it could fill the room with life in a way that your mind still can’t grasp. It was something you could only understand through your senses, and without him, they lay dull and dormant, as if he was the reason they were ever alive in the first place.

You try to keep a box around it, try to bury it so deep even you don’t know it exists. Except there’s only so much you can pack away before the container swells too much and bursts.

It floods you with an ache that resonates keenly with your loneliness. The sentiment itself isn’t new, but the amount of it is, and you’re beginning to realize the death of your friend is simply the frosting to a cake that has been crumbling for years.

There’s a heady layer of surprise that winds through it, one that makes you wish you had taken Rowena up on her offer to temporarily hollow you out so that you’d feel nothing, at the risk of feeling everything once the spell had worn off.

You let out a small growl, drawing both Sam and Dean’s gazes from across the table.

“Don’t,” you warn, eyes riveted to the book in your hand. “Not a damn word. Got it?”

Dean exchanges a look with his brother and it takes them a moment of silent debate to figure out which one of them, if either, you’re even talking to.

“Uh, sure thing, kid,” Dean finally says, but you don't notice, too busy desperately trying to cram your emotions so far beneath the surface you won’t be able to find them for at least another century.

***

Sam Winchester is many things. A good friend, usually being at the top of that list, which is why you mistake his offer for a movie night alone as nothing more than a helpful distraction. The arm around your shoulder? Simply comfort. He knows how much touch grounds you, how just feeling someone’s body next to yours can drag you back out of the rabbit holes you tumble down.

Except this isn’t one you can just be plucked out of, and the tongue in your ear does not belong to someone who’s just concerned.

At first you melt against him. It’s the first non-friendly contact you’ve had in ages, and a whole new perspective emerges as those large hands of his start taking possession over you.

Something else quickly stirs beneath your body’s natural and wholly starved reaction, causing you to jolt straight up on the couch.

“Oh god,” your eyes are wide, panic blossoming through your system. “Gabriel!”

“Gabriel?” Sam echoes, his eyes narrowing intently on you.

Shit. Definitely not the time to be shouting other people’s names, let alone his.

Sam stares at you, and it’s clear by the silence that follows he’s trying to choose his words carefully. “Y/n, Gabriel’s dead.”

You scrub a hand over your face. Just say something that will make him drop it.

“I loved him,” you blurt out completely to your horror.

Your mouth drops open, and there's a tense moment neither of you know what to say.

Awk-ward.

Your cheeks hit nuclear fusion, embarrassment quickly merging with your anger and spiking to unprecedented levels.

“God damnit, f--” you suck in a breath, cutting yourself off. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s ok,” Sam assures, his hand rubbing soothingly along your spine. “I know he meant a lot to you. I just - I guess I didn’t know how much.”

You drop your face into your hands, lips paling in a tight seal against your teeth as you use every ounce of self-restraint not to scream.

“No wonder you’ve been…” He trails off, and you’re too busy fighting against the riptide of fury coursing through you to read between the lines. “If you need time, I can wait.”

“How chivalrous.” It’s a knee-jerk reaction, and you almost don’t recognize the voice that comes out of your mouth, though it’s undeniably yours.

“Excuse me?” From his tone, it might have been kinder -- and less confusing -- if you had simply slapped him or run off.

The night’s still young an oh-so-helpful voice in the back of your head tells you.

“I’m sorry.” You bolt off the couch before you can say or do anything else that will make a complete idiot of yourself.

Back in the solitude of your room, you spend the rest of the night hoping some freak wormhole will open up and swallow you into another dimension.

It doesn’t.

***

It’s been a good hunt. Casualties are at a minimum, and the case itself is challenging enough to leave a thrill in your veins, but not so much that you’re wrecked and ready to sleep for a week.

You hit up the closest place that serves alcohol, which happens to be a dive bar in the center of town. It’s just you and Dean, for once. You’re not certain if Sam’s backed off after your strange encounter, or if Dean’s sensed the tension and tried to intervene by giving you both some space.

The concept is clearly reserved for his brother, however.

He's practically been on top of you this entire time, which is irritating on several levels these days. You wish he'd just grow a pair and tell you what's on his mind. Instead, he insists on hovering, and the longer you’re around him, the more you feel like crawling out of your skin.

You hit your tipping point once you’re someplace past tipsy when you’re attempt to get some air results in him practically escorting you to through the back exit like you were some prisoner. He’s got his hand on your back the entire time, and for some inexplicable reason, you’re suddenly wading through every memory you can, trying to sort out if he’s ever been this handsy with you before.

The answer is not usually, but then again, it’s rarely ever just you and him.

You know what they say. When the cat's away...

You know exactly where that train of thought is headed, and it’s nowhere good.

“Come off it,” you mutter, trying to manually shift the gears of your brain in a different direction.

You feel Dean’s hand stiffen through your jacket. “What?”

Nice one.

You bite back your internal irritation, channeling it toward Dean who’s giving you a nice, long side-eye.

“Whatever’s on your mind, just spit it out.”

You expect him to brush it off, to play the tough guy, maybe scoff before finally admitting he’s worried about you. The reaction itself doesn’t matter, because by the end of it, he’ll have forgotten you said anything strange and you’ll both be back on normal ground.

Except he doesn’t do any of that. The moment you call him out he freezes, reminding you of a cornered animal with the way his entire body goes rigid, as if he's unsure what this situation calls for.

It does not bode well for your theory that sometimes, a Winchester gets emotional on you and things just get weird for a night or two.

You don’t hear what Dean says beyond your name. You don’t need to. It’s all there in the sudden heated, green glow that has your mouth going dry. There’s nothing but the feel of brick at your back, and a silent chorus of not again that’s almost as frantic as your rapidly rising pulse.

By the time his lips even make it near yours, you’re on the verge of having an anxiety attack.

He tastes like whiskey and warmth, a note of loneliness running beneath it all. You can’t get past the contrast of soft and hard within his kiss, the way his hands fist at the sides your shirt, waiting for your permission to proceed any further, and there’s a heady moment where the world begins to ink around the edges in a way that should make you question it.

The moment it returns in a dizzying rush, everything’s changed. Your hands are in his hair, your tongue exploring his with as much ardor as his mouth remains locked with yours.

You pull back so fast you nearly knock yourself out against the wall. “Did you just kiss him back?!”

Dean blinks, stare hazy and so very, very confused. “What?”

Don’t ruin this.

“Oh my god, you did,” you gasp.

Dean’s eyes become startlingly clear as he gives you a long, measured look. “I thought you said that witch didn’t catch you with any hexes?”

“I - she didn’t, but…”

He sighs, hand running across his mouth as if trying to wipe the crazy off before he catches it. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

He steps away, scratching at the back of his head. “Maybe we should just call it a night.”

“Yeah, that,” you eagerly agree, shoving off the wall and practically running back to the Impala.

This is why we can’t have nice things. The snark floats across your mind in wholly unhelpful ways.

“Don't. Even," you hiss without regard to whether or not you’ve actually made it out of earshot.

Dean thankfully takes his time catching up and doesn’t say a word when he climbs into the car beside you. You don’t question the direction he’s driving, just grateful to be moving. You’re too caught up in your inner dialogue, and it isn’t until you’re at the city limits that you realize you’ve been headed in the opposite direction of the motel this entire time.

“Where are we going?”

You glance over, noting the way he refuses to take his eyes off the road.

“Sam's right. Something's wrong with you.”

The indignance that winds through your surprise grabs hold of your mouth before you can stop it.

“So what? Your plan was to try and bone my brains out in hope they went back in the right way?”

You're not like this. Your anger doesn't normally drip with sarcasm and bitterness that sours your tongue. But it is you saying these things, increasingly so over the last several weeks, and it’s a wonder your friends haven’t called you on it before now.

Dean licks his lips, the way he does when he’s not certain about the fight he’s about to pick.

You have a feeling you know what’s coming, and you brace yourself for the inevitable.

“I know about your feelings for him.”

Oh for shit’s sake.

You inhale. Deeply. Because out of all the conclusions he or Sam could come to, it really is this one.

It’s a wonder they haven’t ended the world well before now.

“Gabriel,” he continues, as if there’s any other divine asshole you could have randomly professed your love for.

Noted.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Hard.

You remind yourself Dean means well. You can see the worry seeping through the hard lines in his features. He only wants to help.

Apparently by sticking his tongue in your mouth.

You turn away from him, fingers pressing into the side of your temple.

Pretty sure that one’s actually on you.

“It’s ok if you did,” he tells you. “I’m not trying to rush you.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean.” You manage to soften your tone, keeping it neutral. You’re not actually pissed at him.

Dr. Dean’s miracle cure…

You push even harder into the side of your head, willing the comments to stop.

“Maybe not,” Dean concedes. “But I know you, and something definitely isn’t right.”

… think it can only be taken orally?

You want to laugh, cry, and shriek all at the same time, and you clench your jaw down painfully tight. Maybe, just maybe, if you’re lucky you’ll find a way to break it and remove the possibility of saying anything ever again.

There’s a very large part of you that isn’t impressed with that course of action.

The ride back to Kansas is long, with nothing but the occasional roar of the engine to fill the the car.

You wish it could be as silent inside your head.

***

You can’t keep doing this.

Sam and Dean are worried. Really worried. They’ve taken you off active hunting, relegating you to the bunker. You’re not allowed to wield anything other than a lore book and a spatula, and it’s driving you as insane as they think you are.

You need to tell them, before they resort to locking you in your room, or worse, trying to exorcise you in the dungeon.

That’s a little dramatic, even for them the part of you that’s currently more rational chimes in.

So is putting you on lockdown for talking to yourself.

To be fair, you do sound a feather short of a wand.

You groan, all but ready to commit yourself. You knew that Harry Potter marathon had been a terrible idea, and for the last three days it’s been nonstop puns and references.

Then again, it’s certainly better than that entire month of dad jokes.

“It’s not just being stuck here,” you insist to your empty room, and it’s more than having your closest friends question your mental state. There are things you miss just as much as the actual reason you seem like you’re unravelling, so much so you might really be losing touch with reality.

Quit being a drama queen. That’s my job.

For once, you can’t argue.

You roll off your mattress, moving toward the large bureau across the room. It’s early, at least it is for you, but without much else to do, bed might not be such a bad thing. You open your drawers, searching for one of Sam or Dean’s old T-shirts you’d commandeered, when you feel a prickle of hesitation run down your spine.

Is it really so terrible having me in here?

Your eyes glance up to the mirror in front of you, a little taken aback.

You thought Gabriel would know the answer by now.

Some days the answer is a hell freaking yes, but others, like now, when the alternative makes your chest tighten and your lungs turn to stone, you can see past your need for space and privacy.

“Nah,” you tell him, smiling briefly at your reflection before returning to your task. “You’re not so bad. I just, y’know, miss having time to myself.”

Soon, sweetheart, that familiar timbre rumbles soothingly through the back of your mind. As soon as Ro figures out how to rebuild my vessel, I’ll be out of your hair. Or out from beneath it, as the case may be.

The thought lessens the tangled snarl of frustration stuck somewhere between your chest and stomach, and there’s a mutual sense of relief as your shared tension begins to unwind.

You know, it’s no picnic on my end, either.

“Yeah. Must be a real travesty being alive with someone who doesn’t mind sharing,” you drawl.

Apparently, possession didn’t have to be an all or nothing relationship, but angels and demons often went that route because it was the easiest.

Given how crazy you seem and feel, you can see why

I’m beginning to think the whole look but don’t touch mode isn’t much better he laments.

Is he for real?

Six months. Six angel damned months of nothing, save those two wrecks of a night with Sam and Dean. You had no idea how dependent you’d become on using physical pleasure to let off steam until your extra passenger hopped on board.

Dear God did you just need to put something between your legs. A hand. Fingers. Something battery operated. Sam. Dean. Any one of those. All of the above.

Easy there, ya little hot tamale. Just because I don’t have eyes, doesn’t mean I can’t make imagery out of all the brain cells firing in this noodle of yours.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, doing your best to clear your mind before you both end up in any more situations that break the awkward scale.

You finally find something to sleep in, and muscle memory has you undoing the front of your pants without even thinking. Before they’ve hit the floor, Gabriel’s faded into the background, giving you privacy to change.

By the time he reemerges, you’ve already buried yourself beneath the sheets, well on your way to falling asleep.

You know, there’s just one thing I’m looking forward to more than being back in my own vessel.

“I’ll bite,” you murmur, sensing there’s a punchline coming. “What’s that?”

Getting to see the look on Thing One and Two’s faces when they find out I got inside you before either of them.

You’re not sure if it’s really that amusing, or if some of Gabriel’s sentiments are trickling into yours, but your laugh is one of the few genuine sounds of mirth to make an appearance since you’ve been placed under house arrest.

“You and me both, feathers,” you snicker, settling further into your pillow.

I also can’t wait to see the look on their faces when I thank you properly.

The thought skitters across your awareness, but you’re no longer awake enough to receive it. You just know that something’s there.

“Hmmm?”

Nothing, sweetheart. Gabriel’s presence fills you completely, wrapping you snugly from head to toe better than any blanket ever could. Get some rest.

It’s hard not to with him there. You’ve never felt so safe and warm, and as you drift away, you almost don’t want to think about what it will be like when it comes time for him to leave.

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#gabriel x reader #dean x reader #sam x reader #gabriel #sam winchester #dean winchester #drunk drabble #rabbit writes

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devillainsarchive · 5 years

Photo

My official canon divergence starts with the end of D2 and will cover all of Book 4 and D3 and beyond.

Please read. I will eventually put all of this in smaller head canons.

If this post is too long for you here is my shortened version - x

Pre Book 4

Book 1 is mostly canon on this blog. It should be noted that Carlos and Uma, and her crew and the pirates used to hang out or at least were acquaintances. He has an unspoken beef with Harry Hook. They also taught him to swim and sword fight. Carlos’ symbol the cross bones is a partial reference to his pirate history. Carlos’ mother is very awful but has a vice like grip over him. Carlos deeply loves his mother, and knows his mother does not love him but that never stops him from trying to earn her love. He is also protective over her because of this. He hates himself for his feelings like this.

D1 is also largely canon. Book 2 is also canon. Book 3 is canon, except his and Jane’s friendship are not as rushed (and later relationship starts building immediately after D1. D2 is mostly canon with the caveat that he and Mal have talked prior about the truth gummy and his mom hence why his mom’s voice appears in Ways to be Wicked. Carlos barely does any actual fighting with the pirates as they are his friends and he is torn. He likes being able to to the smoke bombs because it acknowledges his accuracy, and his desire to not actually fight.

After D2 Jane and Carlos do become official. They are not without their issues, not listening to each other is a main one. They often speak over each other, and don’t listen to each other’s ramblings. Their is alot of trust issues between them. They are both nervous about everything, and second guessing everything. But they are trying, and they are a cute couple.

Dude cannot talk still. The spell wore off shortly after D2, when he took his first poop really. He is however good at tracking, because he’s a dog. He helps in that matter, but that alone.

Book 4

Due to rules at Auradon prep, even though Carlos should have graduated early, he does graduate with the rest of the Core 4, he just is not allowed to walk across the stage. He is a junior in title alone. He graduates with the rest. Dude stays at Auradon prep, and does not graduate. Dude stays to help the next mascot. Dude also officially gets adopted by Gil when the time comes in D3.

Carlos does not participate in the senior things, and it kind of crushes him. He doesn’t even know if the school will let him graduate and it eats him up. Even if the school does, he will be away from his friends which doesn’t help either. Jane figures out a way to fix it by having him help plan the scavenger hunt. But that’s alot on him.

D3 and VK DAY

VK Day is not a thing. It does not happen. It was brought up and Carlos shot it down. He does have a place on the Isle for kids though, but some of their parents are bad. The location is a secret, and the place is run in part by Diego, and in part by a few of the other older kids who Carlos trusts. Carlos is not a fan of the applications, and pushes for if they are going to be a thing then kids need to be coming over at least monthly. To help prepare he proposes for a place to be built in Auradon for kids both Auradon raised, and not to find solace and help if they want it.

Carlos hates being on the isle, he hates going back. His mother is not okay for various reasons. He does not like it there. He never truly will. He cares about the kids and those in situations similar to his, but going back to the Isle is panic inducing for him.

Jane’s Birthday and Relationship

Carlos helps Jane plan her birthday, and even has some surprises for her. Like a cake and gift. However because of things going on he misses her party due to the fact that he has to go back to the Isle again. That begins the strain on their relationship. She thinks he forgot. And the cake he made is slowly being eaten by people which doesn’t help. Jane does not find out about the cake, because the new VKs hide their evidence of eating it.

Carlos does try to give Jane her gift, a way of saying sorry now for missing the party. It is a bow made out of scrap metal that Carlos made. Because of nerves between both of them, its not really well received. Carlos says that he’s not sure about them anymore things have been building after all over months.

When Jane meets Harry and Gil, she does not intentionally flirt back. But Carlos sees it, and gives her a look. They never officially say they are broken up. They remain friends for sure. But they both realize they are not going to be each other’s happily ever after. And they are okay with that, because at least they are friends.

Fight Scene

Carlos Recognizes the fighting style as Chad’s because he is in control of the armor. Carlos does not know how to voice this to the others, but he does have an advantage that they now don’t. He and Chad are a pretty equal match.

Carlos is much more open to accepting Harry and Gil. The icebreaker is not needed so much because he did in fact use to be friends with them on the Isle. He and Harry still don’t speak about their beef. But their lack of speaking about it, allows them to move on from it.

The Barrier and Aftermath

Carlos does not want the barrier down forever. Yes people deserve second chances. Some people however do not. He spend years atoning for his mother’s wrongs because she couldn’t. So in the aftermath of the barrier coming down, he sees Diego, which excites and confuses him because he loves his cousin. His cousin is coming to warn him about his mother.

Carlos tries to bring this to Ben and Mal but its a happy time. People are happy. The VKs are happy. Celia and Facilier are happy. The kids with good parents are happy, and Carlos can only thinking about the parents who aren’t good. A different solution has to be made or he will live the rest of his life in fear because his mother will find him. He wont get to go to Camelot University (Oxford and Cambridge Auradon Equivalent) and join their ROAR team like planned, he got a full scholarship.

So as soon as the celebrations end, he talks to Chad who he has gotten really close to. Chad suggest some thing, and Carlos goes with it. He asks for a meeting with Ben, some select adults in Auradon, and the VKs. He is terrified. None of them realize what is going on. His meeting begins with him saying that they need an alternative. Some villains are still bad. Some need to go to an actual prison. People object. Carlos for the first time then shows people who aren’t Mal, Evie, and Jay, his scars. He talks about the years of abuse his mother put on him. Things are going well until the air changes.

Cruella enters, and Carlos’ demeanor changes completely. Where he wants was confident he is no longer. Normally she speaks, but she doesn’t, and Carlos knows its going to be bad. She takes him out, but not before Fairy Godmother stops it. She freezes Cruella, and agrees they need an alternative for the not so good parents. There will always be bad people who are just bad.

College and Afterwords

Carlos visits his mother, even if it goes nowhere. Diego stays on the Isle, but Carlos is much more comfortable being there now. He also gets to see his cousin. Diego’s band becomes quite a hit in Auradon, they got alot better than when they were on the Isle. A true rock band. He goes to Camelot University, and plays ROAR there.

He has two focuses, veterinary medicine which covers science, but he also takes extra chemistry classes, because while at school he gets used to Animals. With help, he gets a service dog, Laurie, then a second dog Frieda both from the Dalmatian Plantation. His second focus is engineering.

He lives with the Charmings. They support him as if he was their own son. He and Chad have really bonded, and become close friends.

Eventually he gets access to Cruella’s money that was put in a trust, he gets access to her estate as well. He also gets all her cars out of the museum, if he steals them one at a time, no one tries to stop him. They have his name on them after all. Everyone in college knows that if they need help with cars or things need fixing he is the one to go to.

He feels pretty fulfilled. A life where he could not hope, leads to a life where he can.

#d3 spoilers #tw: d3 spoilers #this also leaves mal and carlos a thing dani :D #headcanon: he got her brain too #CANON DIVERGENCE #descendants 3 spoilers #tw: descendants 3 spoilers

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devillain · 5 years

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My official canon divergence starts with the end of D2 and will cover all of Book 4 and D3 and beyond.

Please read. I will eventually put all of this in smaller head canons. Additionally, most of this can change depending on who I am writing with, I made it flexible on purpose.

If this post is too long for you here is my shortened version - x

Pre Book 4

Dude cannot talk still. The spell wore off shortly after D2, when he took his first poop really. He is however good at tracking, because he’s a dog. He helps in that matter, but that alone.

Book 4

D3 and VK DAY

Jane’s Birthday and Relationship

Fight Scene

The Barrier and Aftermath

College and Afterwords

He lives with the Charmings. They support him as if he was their own son. He and Chad have really bonded, and become close friends.

He feels pretty fulfilled. A life where he could not hope, leads to a life where he can.

#headcanon: a smart little boy #canon divergence #tw: abuse #tw: child abuse

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hweianime · 6 years

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I would call this one: The Fairy Odd Curse

Ok OMG, I want a crack fic where it’s Voldemort who dies and wakes up to like a messed up fairy tale world. And like he’s the prince to Harry’s princess. So his hell is pretty much having to save Harry over and bloody over again. Sometimes he gets magic sometimes he doesn’t.

It’s great because he’s fucking Voldemort so obviously he didn’t read a lot of fairy tales as a kid and therefore has to stumble through most of them blindly. (BTW THIS COULD BE A SNARRY TOO *hint hint*)

Once upon a time, there were two souls connected by fate. An unfortunate connection really. One that could only end with the death of the other. But as a rather barmy old wizard once said, death is just the next great adventure.

Lord Voldemort wakes up in a field. It’s a very nice field all things considered. Soft green grass, daisies, the smell of fresh mildew. The Dark Lord blinks. Huh.

There was a lot of places he was sure he would go, but he was fairly positive heaven was not one of them.

He lifts himself up from where he had been lying and he realizes with a start that these were not the clothes he had been wearing in his death. They were certainly not the sort of clothes he would have wished to wear in the afterlife either, or any life really. Poofy sleeves, and gauche colors lines with gold. He looked like one of those outdated cartoon pictures of a prince.

Tentatively he mapped out his face with his hands, his normal skin colored healthy looking hands. He sighs a little in relief. Fuck, if there was one thing he had really regretted as Voldemort, it was that extra step that made him lose his nose in the process. And also his looks but he wasn’t that vain. It was just... nose.

Voldemort stares quietly at the rolling green hills, his body come to think of it, isn’t the only thing that’s reverted back to its prime. His mind too feels… clearer. Sharper.

Sane.

“Your highness!”

….What?

So the first story is Harry Potter and the Seven Weasleys. Lucius is the wicked stepmother and yes, Harry is fucking Snow White. Skin as white as snow, hair as black as coal and eyes as green as a killing curse.

“No.” Voldemort backed away from the sleeping young man. He looked at the hopeful and worried expressions of seven redheads with freckled faces. “No.” He repeated firmly. Some of the tiny Weasleys began sobbing. As if he cared about these blood traitors’ piddly arse feelings.

“Oy, you gotta your highness.” The youngest boy scowls, “Only true love’s kiss can save Harry now.”

“NO.”

He totally ends up kissing Harry. It’s super reluctant. As is the feelings that tingled in his chest when he does so. Harry opens his eyes and smiles, clearly doesn’t recognize who Voldemort/Riddle is. Voldemort gets kissed by Harry, he doesn’t know why he allows it. He brings Harry back to his kingdom but the moment he steps into the castle grounds the world shifts again and he ends up in another fairytale universe. Rinse and repeat.

EXAMPLES

- The Little Mermaid. Harry’s the little mermaid, Barty Crouch is the evil octopus one since like Polyjuice and such similarities, Flounder is Ron, Sebastian is Hermione cause Sebastian fucking has common sense. Dumbledore would be King Triton.

Prince Tom grits his teeth as this so-called Hariel fails to even understand the simple concept of a fork. He lives under the sea, not under a rock, the idea of spearing something down in a hunt should be something the younger man should be familiar enough with. How in Merlin would they be able to eat otherwise?

Even worse, he’s mute for some reason. Fuck. How does this story end again, for the life of the prince he just could not remember.

- Beauty and the beast- self-explanatory right? All of the talking furniture are Death Eaters. Though omg Lucius would be the candlestick and Severus would be Cogsworth and they all are pretty scared of him because Voldemort can do crucio and other spells. Voldemort at that time was pissed because he realized this cycle was probably not going to end anytime soon. LOCKHART IS GASTON.

“Aren’t you supposed to be interested in the library?” The Beast hisses grumpily. He hates this story. He hates it all the more because apparently, the world has seen fit to give him his previous snake-like appearance rather than go classic. His nose is gone again. Fuck, he hates everything.

Harry stares at the man incredulously, “Your brooms can fly.” He says slowly like Beast was the idiot. If The Beast wasn’t so fearful of the consequences, he would kill Potter right then and there. “Why would I immerse myself in books when I could bloody fly?!”

- Alice in Wonderland, with Tom being Alice, Walburga Black as the Queen of Hearts, Harry being the Mad Hatter or the White Rabbit. I don’t know I don’t remember how this movie went. But I know Tom would be infuriated.

- Peter Pan, but this time Harry is Peter, Ginny is Tinkerbell and Tom is Wendy. Wendy’s brothers can be Lucius and Malfoy I guess, I don’t know, maybe Tom just ditches the brothers. Snape is Captain Hook.

“Want to check out the mermaids?” Potter Pan asks with a friendly smile.

Tom shudders. “No.” He answers firmly. “No more mermaids for at least five more lifetimes.”

Potter Pan quirks a confused but bemused grin, “You’re strange. I like that.”

“Oh.. joy.”

- Mary Poppins where Harry is Harry Pottins. Tom would be the single father of Lucius and Snape. Tom tries to avoid Harry this time but ends up being sucked in to their misadventures despite himself. He also gets insanely annoyed at Sirius the chimney sweep for some reason.

- Enchanted. The prince is Lucius, Harry’s romantic but cynical best friend is Narcissa. Tom’s just grumpy at this point but fairly resigned. Doesn’t even care that he’s a muggle in this one.

- Harry is Rapunzel (Harunzel) and Dumbledore is Mother Gothel and it’s the Tangled version where the horse is Draco Malfoy and the chameleon is Ron. It’s the most Harry-esque character so far so Tom feels a little more heartened.

And then one day, as he makes his way again to save Harry from a tower for what felt like the hundredth time, Harry pops his head out of the open window, looks at him confusedly and says, “Riddle? What the fuck. Is this hell? It feels like hell.” And Tom almost cries because finally Harry has died and he’s no longer alone in this cruel and unusual torture.

+ Hercules

“Huh,” Tomcules mused as he looked at the monster he had defeated in a single hit. “I think I’m warming up to this one.”

“You would.” Megarry rolled his eyes before muttering under his breath, “At least everyone here is wearing a dress, not just me.”

+ Pocahontas

“You look…”

“What?” Harrihontas demanded, “Come on, say it, I know I certainly feel racist just looking at me.”

Captain Tom Smith shook his head, “Not that, it’s just,” He hesitated, “I forgot how well suited tanned skin looks on you.”

Harrihontas blinks, green eyes, it’s always green eyes, bright as the killing curse, light up in surprise. “Oh, thanks.”

They shuffle a bit, a little awkward before Hermione the hummingbird chirps impatiently. The green-eyed native of this unknown land claps his hands and grins as he grabs Tom’s arm, pulling him somewhere, “Well, I say we know each other well enough, now why don’t I show you the colors of the wind?”

+ The Nightmare before Christmas

“Okay, THIS, THIS RIGHT HERE IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ONE EVER,” Harry screamed.

“Calm the fuck down Potter,” Tom tells him calmly as he watches the citizens of Halloween town sing the Halloween song. He’s not going to admit it out loud, lest Harry murder him or stuff someone else’s eyeballs into his empty sockets, but this world was rather fascinating. Plus, he was the best dressed he’s been in a long while. “You’ll tear out those pretty stitches of yours.”

+ Mulan

Where Tom is Chang, Harry is essentially Mulan except obviously the whole crossdressing thing isn’t happening. But, let’s be honest, everything would’ve pretty much happened regardless if Mulan got found out about her gender in the movie so whatever.

“Now this is fun!” Huran whooped as he kicked a hun off the tower.

Tang grunted as he sliced open another enemy, this was admittedly incredibly therapeutic. If only Dumbledore wasn’t the emperor though.

+ Aladdin is Tom, Jasmine is Harry, Hedwig is the fucking tiger, Snape is Jafar, Fudge is the Sultan and the twins are the Genies of the lamp. Because seeing Tom interact with the twins would probs be gold.

THEN THERE ARE MARVEL MOVIES WHICH ARE TECHNICALLY DISNEY

+ Iron Man

“How the fuck is this Disney?!” Tommy Riddle snarled as Harry stuck his hand into the hole in his chest.

Harry shuddered, the unforgiving metal and wires around his limb were warm, “Maybe they bought out another film company? You know, one about... uh... I’m sorry, am I doing this right?”

The billionaire waved his hand irritatedly, “You’re doing fine Potts, I, the man who just spent a decent time being tortured by terrorists, am not.” Tom slung his arm over his face. Harry would say he’s being dramatic again but he is sticking his fist into the guy’s chest so. “I cannot believe I’m missing those out of the blue musical numbers right now.”

“I did like the magic carpet ride.” Harry mused thoughtfully. Tom just groaned.

“I just, can’t we have one where we’re wizards again? One. Just one. I’ve given up on being a dark lord, hell, I think muggles are fairly alright now! Just let me be a wizard again.”

Harry pats the older man sympathetically, with the hand not in his chest, of course, that would’ve been weird otherwise. “Hey,” He says reassuringly, “We were in the Chinese army, I was once apparently a mermaid and you had a mansion filled with people we knew in the form of talking furniture. I’m sure we’ll eventually be wizards again.”

“Let’s bloody hope so.”

+ Stephan Strange

“Hey, you’re going to learn magic again.” Harry tries.

“THIS WASN’T WHAT I HAD IN MIND.” Dr. Riddle snarls as his hands shook harder than an earth tremor with a 9.5 magnitude. “FUCK. MY HANDS.”

So by then, Tom’s already like, half in love with Harry because of his previous princesses selves’ bravery and loyalty and surprising cunning but having the real Harry by his side is what eventually really seals the deal with him.

And so they do more Disney and even not so Disney adventures where sometimes they’ll play along or go out of their way to screw the whole movie over (mainly Tom who likes when Harry complains about ruining what little childhood he had left) until they both realise they’re stupidly in love with each other, confess it, kiss and break the curse. Cuz like, true love, bitch.

“We’re free, we’re finally free,” Tom says bewilderedly. They’re in the Forbidden Forest, he knows this. It haunts his dreams as well as his nightmares enough times. But that doesn’t matter as he watches Harry throw his head back and laugh freely, none of that tinkling bell sounds either, a proper young man’s laugh. Low and throaty and gorgeous.

The former Dark Lord, hero, prince, ogre, prince again and a hundred times more plus a billionaire playboy philanthropist and even the Sorcerer Supreme, felt himself smiling. His smile widens as Harry catches his expression and returns it toothily.

“It’s about bloody goddamn time,” Harry agrees, “What now Tom? Or is it Voldemort again?”

Tom waved off the last bit, “Just Tom, I think I’ve had enough fancy names to last a lifetime or thirty.” If anything, the younger man’s expression brightened at that, pleased at the answer.

“Okay Tom, what’s next for us?”

“Oh Harry, you idiot. Don’t you read fairytales?” The former Boy Who Lived, damsel in distress, princess, secretary, doctor and more, opened his mouth in protest. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing came out as Tom Marvolo Riddle leans in and kisses Harry James Potter. It’s not too steamy, not too chaste, something just right. A kiss fit for a princess you could say.

“Now,” Tom smiled against the kiss, “We have our happily ever after.”

Harry laughed delightedly again.

Once upon a time, there were two souls connected by fate. Separated by death. And resurrected by love. This is their story.

#abandoned plot #Tomarry #Harrymort #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #voldemort #harry potter slash fiction #slash #slash fic #fairy tales #snarry #snape #tom marvolo riddle #fic #lol #gayyyy

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underimagines · 6 years

Text

take me out (and we’ll karaoke)

3k One-Shot: Underswap!Mettaton/Reader for Audrey

Summary: You and Happstablook go out for karaoke.

read it on ao3 | tip-jar | commission me

God this place was nice.

“I know~!” Happstablook trilled, giggling at the awestruck look on your face. “Isn’t it just the most darling little café? I was doing some research on where a good place would be to take you—and a friend of mine happened to mention that this place had recently opened up a week or so ago.”

They twirled beneath the fairy lights strung up across the ceiling. “And I remembered how much you loved karaoke!”

“Ohmygod!” You lifted your balled-up fists. “Is this place a karaoke bar??”

You’d never have guessed it yourself.

The exterior of the place looked modern enough, but the inside was what caught you off-guard. It was a smooth mixture of boho and indie aesthetics. Fairy lights and potted plants hung from various points on the ceiling and walls. The smell of spices and potpourri wafted through the air.

With the small number of chairs, decorative lamps, and tables scattered around the lobby, it helped the place feel well-lived in, but not too cluttered. The lights gave it a touch of enchantment.

It was really freaking nice, was what you were saying. Nicer than anywhere you’d been in a while.

“I really hope you didn’t, like, break your wallet getting us a reservation here.” You couldn’t help but mumble, nibbling on your fingertips anxiously. “If you did, I’m going to drop dead, right here and now.”

Happstablook just rolled their big, half-lidded eyes and slid their tiny hand-nub into yours, tugging you along. “Come on, darling! If you think this is nice, just wait till you see what I got for us~.”

They practically sang the last part. It made your chest tighten and stomach flutter.

The woman at the front desk was dressed casually immaculate, with a nametag that read ‘Emma.’ A pair of thick-rimmed glasses were perched on her nose, framed by a constellation of freckles across her pale skin. She flashed you a smile of big, perfect teeth, and you immediately felt a little uncomfortable.

“Hi! Welcome to Rewind, how can I help you?”

Rewind, that was the name! You’d had trouble trying to figure out exactly what the sign outside had read—it’d been spelled “RE<<IND.”

Well, now you had confirmation that this place wasn’t just trying to be indie—it was indie.

“Hi, there, darling!” Happsta cooed back, floating up to meet her gaze across the mahogany desk. “We have a reservation—should be under ‘Blook and Company.’”

Emma nodded understandingly and moved to flip open the big black folder that sat off to her side. After scanning through it a bit, she tapped a finger somewhere in the list and gave you both another giant grin. “Found ya! Room 38-C, your allotted time slot is three hours in total and we’ll be delivering your requested meal around 6 pm. And since it’s 4 pm now…”

She glanced at her watch. “You’ll have your room until 7! Dinner is served in the main lobby area.”

“Perfect.” Happsta chirped, turning to meet your somewhat confused gaze. They gave you a little wiggle of excitement. “Thank you!”

“No problem!” Emma responded in just as friendly a tone. Just as you turned to walk away, she called out again. “Oh, wait, your key!”

“Oh!” Happstablook blew a raspberry at the air, rolling their eyes again. “Of course, we wouldn’t want to get ourselves locked in! Thank you darling.”

They took the key and turned to hold it up for you to see. It was just your average little, silver key. But the way Happsta was holding it up was like it was the key to the entire city.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, we should get going. This date won’t go on itself!”

Their excitement was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile as you followed them through the common room, to the elevator. “Why did they give you a key?”

“The rooms lock automatically from the inside,” They explained, pressing the button for your floor. “It’s for security reasons—only someone with the key would be able to get in from the outside.”

“Oh.” You nodded. The elevator music wafted between you, filling the small gap of silence, before you spoke again. “Did she say they were going to deliver dinner to us?”

They made a noise of affirmation. “I told you it was going to be a special place! Oh, darling, I know you’ll just love it!”

“Damn and I thought it was fancy before.” A nervous laugh bubbled in the back of your throat. “Be serious with me, how much is all this gonna cost?”

“I’m not telling!” They teased. “If I did, you’d just make a big deal out of it.”

“Of course, I would.” You agreed without hesitation. “This is the fanciest place I’ve been to in months. I’m serious! And you went out of your way to set up all of this, just for me!”

They tilted their head back in forth in a so-so manner. “Well you’re half right, darling. What sort of gentle-ghost would I be if I didn’t treat my beautiful girlfriend to the very best that life has to offer? …Buuut. I didn’t do it just for you.”

You glanced at them in confusion, but they turned away, biting their lip and wiggling with joy as the elevator continued its descent. “Are you really doing this for dramatic effect?”

“Shh!” Finally, the elevator stopped with a ding. “Like I said, I didn’t do it just for you…”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, playing into their little game.

As the doors opened to reveal the long, plush carpeted hallway, they turned to you and smiled mischievously. “I did it for the both of us.”

“Yeah, yeah, you showboat.” They stuck out their tongue, a gesture which you returned playfully. “Shouldn’t you be sweeping me off my feet by now?”

“Oh, I’ll be a doing a lot more than that,” Happsta chirped, taking your hand again. “Follow me!”

Just looking at the lavish room made you feel like you were losing money by the second.

“Isn’t this precious?” Happsta crooned, twirling into the center of the room. Peach walls framed the redwood floor. Several bright red armchairs were scattered around in a semi-circle, punctuated by a round table in the middle that looked like it was the same mahogany as the front desk. A bowl of potted flowers hung over the top of it from a hook on the ceiling.

You walked in, practically on your toes, scared to settle in. There were candles lining the high shelves. The scent of lavender filled your nose, chasing away your anxiety with each deep breath you took. “It’s gorgeous. Are those autographed photos?”

Sure enough, a line of black twine was strung across one end of the room, decorated with pictures held up with clothing pins.

A familiar face caught your eye as you stepped up to inspect them. “Is that Napstaton?”

There was no mistaking it. You’d recognize that grinning face anywhere.

He had his arm slung around a man who looked to be in his 40s or so. With one hand, he angled the camera down at them both. With the other, he shot a peace sign.

“Ey yo Tony where’s that fresh pepperoni! Thanks for the VIP tour, dawg, this is gonna be the hottest new hangout on the block before you know it!! – Sincerely, Napstaton”

Happstablook read it aloud over your shoulder, mimicking their cousin’s Californian accent.

“I can’t believe he actually wrote that,” They hummed, shaking their head.

“I can.” There was something utterly ridiculous about what he’d written and how he’d signed off. “He’s such a goof.”

“Yes, but he’s a goof with good taste.” Happsta met your gaze and glanced away. “Sometimes.”

“I should have known.” You smiled, putting the photo back in place. “When you mention pulling strings, it always leads back to Napstaton.”

They looked insulted. “Well, it wasn’t all him, you know! Undyne had some say in it, too.”

“I can only imagine what Undyne had to say.” You scanned the rest of the photos. Most of them were of big name local celebrities, or small-time international ones. There was one of Papyrus mixed in, and you were almost certainly sure that he’d snuck it in himself.

“She made some good points.” Happsta huffed, tiny cheeks puffing out. They always looked so cute when they got sour. “Besides, darling, I don’t see you complaining!”

You shrugged lightly and turned back to face them. “I’m not, this place is great. It always surprises me how much influence Napstaton has over such a broad empire of…stuff.”

“Mm, you’re right!” They sighed, nodding with a semi-defeated look. “The boy is as flashy as he is talented, I’ll give him that. But, changing the topic! I didn’t get us this karaoke room just so we could gawk at pictures of my cousin, you know~.”

Happsta wiggle-floated all the way over the flat-screen that hung on the wall. They grabbed two of the four microphones and handed you one, reaching for the remote. A list of various songs popped up, and they hummed thoughtfully as they scrolled through them.

“Anything in particular catch your eye?” They spoke in a half-aware tone.

“Not really, I’m good with anything!” You paused. “Except country.”

Your partner laughed. “I happen to think I’d look quite dashing in a ten gallon!”

You snickered, leaning into one of the chairs. “Don’t go giving Napstaton any more cowboy-related ideas! God, remember that time he tried to go bronc riding at that monster truck thing?”

They shivered. “Oh, darling, please don’t remind me. It took forever for Doctor Undyne to reattach his arm.”

“Does he still have the boots?”

“Yes.”

“Does he still wear the boots?”

“…Yes.”

You shook your head. Poor Undyne. The mental image it gave you was enough to make you want to curl into a tiny ball and disappear. “Oof. But anyway, yeah, I’m not a great singer so it’s not like the genre will do much to change that.”

“Must you insult yourself, daring?” Happsta glanced at you disapprovingly. “I, for one, think you have a lovely singing voice.”

“We’re dating, you’re supposed to say that.”

“Be that as it may, I’m telling the truth!” They looked a little annoyed.

“I know that, Happsta. If there’s one thing you are, it’s honest with your opinions.”

That perked them up a little. “Why, thank you, darling~!”

“That does not change the fact that I think I have a singing voice that could make dogs howl.”

“Oh!” Their cheeks puffed up again, pink ectoplasm flushing red over the extended skin. Happsta narrowed their eyes at you, before their lips quirked up in a playful smile. “Prove it.”

You blinked. “What?”

“If you really think you’re no good,” Your boo turned slowly to face the television, lifting the microphone to their lips. They glanced at you from the corner of their eye. “Then you’ve gotta prove it to me.”

“…Are you trying to use reverse-psychology on me?”

“Is it working?”

Your serious expression finally cracked, and you let the smile you’d been holding back slip out. “Yes.”

“Then yes!” They nudged the other microphone in your direction, beaming. “Come on darling, I didn’t get this room just to sing all by myself, though I did get it to sing.”

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the microphone off the table and moved to stand beside them. “Alright, you little poltergeist, let’s do this.”

With a bounce and wiggle, Happsta clicked on a playlist that read “BLOOK RESERV.”

“Did you get them to set up a playlist for us?”

“Shh!” They reached out, pressing a nub hand against your lips. “Shhh.”

You tried to speak again, but they placed their hand back over your mouth. “Shhh.”

Open. Pat. “Shh-shhh-shh.”

Open. Pat. “Shhhhhh.”

They pulled away when you shot them a Look. “Just trust me!”

“Fine.” You smiled. “But this had better be good!”

You were absolutely eating all of your words, with extra hot Shame Sauce.

Happstablook looked more than pleased with the reaction they were getting from you, which was a mixture of giddiness, playful dramatics, and a smile so wide that it hurt your cheeks.

They’d picked all of your favorite songs.

The entire playlist looked like it’d been copied and pasted from the music library of your phone—knowing Happsta, it might have been.

Though you’d started off quiet and awkward, by the end of the first song you were twirling and dancing and waving your hands around like Napstaton did on stage.

Happstablook let loose too, flipping their little tuft of ecto-hair and wiggling their hips like they were in a dance competition with a Moldsmal.

“And I,” You crooned, leaning towards them dramatically. They echoed your pose, until the sides of your heads were touching, and your voices layered over one another harmoniously. “Had! The time of my li-i-ife, and I owe it all to you…!”

On cue with the beat, you both pulled out your best disco moves. You dragged a finger from your hip to pointing above your head, while Happsta did the best version of a hustle that they could manage. Neither of you were on rhythm with the song itself, but you didn’t really care. You just smiled and laughed and made silly faces.

They were right, you were having a great time.

And then, right in the middle of your rendition of a funky chicken, someone knocked on the door.

Very much like the chicken you were mimicking, you made a loud, ridiculous squawking sound and tumbled back. Happsta caught you just before you had the chance to slam into the circular table.

“Oof, careful darling! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had two left feet—but what would I know? I have no feet!”

They chuckled brightly, and the person knocked again.

“Oh, right.” Happsta cleared their throat dramatically. “Yes?”

“It’s Emma!”

You scrambled to open the door. Sure enough, Emma stood in the hallway, beaming and wiggling her perfectly painted nails in an excited wave. “Heya! I’m just here to remind you that dinner is in 5 in the common room, and you should leave your keys at the front desk. You can come get them again after you’ve finished eating.”

It was said in a robotic, rehearsed way. Though her smile said, “customer service” her eyes screamed “when is my shift over.”

Between the pity you felt and the shock of her falsely positive tone, all you could manage was a silent nod.

“Thank you, darling!” Happsta swayed up to take their place next to you, offering Emma a genuine smile. That drew the sunshine back to her face, and her eyes softened considerably. “We’ll give you a visit soon.”

She nodded briefly and turned, calling over her shoulder. “Alright, see you guys then!”

As the door clicked closed, you sighed in relief. “Man, she looked beat.”

“I imagine she is.” Happstablook made a sound of affirmation. “While these sorts of establishments are lush on the outside, it’s usually the employees who suffer the most at the end of the day.”

“Oh…”

They turned, shock swallowing the sadness that had flashed in their eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling! I didn’t mean to say something so depressing. I’m certain she loves her job—it must just be a lot to handle.”

“No, I know what you mean.” You offered him a tense smile. “That just reminds me of how hard reception work is. I had a job like that once and you’re right, it was exhausting.”

“Mm.” They briefly glanced towards the carpet, before turning to offer you a much more relaxed grin. “But let’s not spoil the night with stuff like that. We’ve still got dinner to look forward to, and then another hour of fun before we can turn in for the evening!”

You nodded back, pushing the flashbacks of desk work from the forefront of your mind. “Yeah, you’re right.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled. “Speaking of dinner…”

Happsta giggled. “I suppose we should head that way.”

After you put everything back in place and stepped into the hallway, Happsta furrowed their brows. “Here, let me turn in the key.”

“Are you sure?” It was a bit of a surprise, but nothing that seemed exceptionally worrisome.

“Yes, I have a question that I’d like to ask the young lady at the front desk, anyway.” They gave you a smile and a wink, wiggling the key in one hand. “I’ll be right back, darling, so you just wait for me here, okay?”

“Uh…okay, sure.” Without much else to do, you did.

And true to their word, it only took them a few minutes to return back to your side.

“What was that about?”

“Hm?” Their smile was positively impish. “Oh, it’s nothing big. Let’s just say that our lovely receptionist friend will be finding a hefty tip on her desk.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest like a flower. “Happsta, that’s so sweet!”

They blushed, swishing from side to side. “It’s nothing. I just figured that, well, since you had a point. And she’s had such excellent customer service, that it wouldn’t hurt, especially since we had such a lovely evening.”

“Well,” You gave them a big, happy smile. “It’s not over yet! We’ve still got dinner to look forward to.”

“And more singing!”

You giggled. “And singing. How many songs did you put in that playlist anyway?”

Their lips turned up in a way that you could only compare to a cat emoji. “You’ll just have to find out.”

Leaning against the wall, you took a moment to stretch. “Thanks again, Happsta. I’ve had a really good time tonight.”

They grinned, “Who knows, maybe this could be ‘our place’ someday?”

You rolled your eyes again as they slipped their tiny hand into yours but smiled anyway.

‘Our place.’ You liked the sound of that.

Another Underswap commission for another lovely returning customer! Thank you to Audrey, for being such a darling and giving me another chance to write for you; it's always a pleasure~! (PS: The song I’m referencing in the title is “Karaoke” by Smallpools, you should check it out!)

- Mod Mellow

#commission #underswap #mettaton #happstablook #x reader #mettaton x reader #fanfic #fic #mod's fanfics #mod mellow #long post #fluff #cute #thank you again darling!#queued post

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marril96 · 6 years

Text

Unconditionally

Characters: Rowena, reader, Sam, Dean

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Reader gets a sleeping curse cast on her and Rowena is the only one who can wake her up. The problem is, she isn't sure she can.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

Read on AO3.

It had been a relatively easy case. The witch had been powerful, but she'd had nothing on Rowena. While the Winchester brothers couldn't handle her on their own and had been forced to call on the redhead for help, Rowena had taken her out with ease. A single word of Latin, and the wicked witch was gone for good.

Had this been any other case, you, Rowena, Sam, and Dean would have celebrated the easy victory.

But, just as all things in life, nothing is ever that easy.

Instead of screaming in her last moments of life, which was what villains usually did, the witch had uttered a curse.

Directly in your face.

And just as she had vanished in flames of Rowena's fury, your eyes closed and you collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Having no other choice, the Winchesters had taken you to their bunker and had placed you on a bed in one of the numerous spare rooms. All the way there, Rowena hadn't left your side. She cradled your limp form on the backseat of the Impala, your head on her lap, one of her hands caressing your cheek while the other rubbed up and down your arm. She could barely part with you for the few minutes it took Sam to carry you inside, and had instantly taken a seat on the bed beside you and grabbed hold of your hand.

The witch blinked back the tears that burned at her eyes. You looked relaxed, at peace, as if you were asleep. But she knew better. This was much more dangerous than a single sleeping spell — there was a reason it was called a curse.

Rowena swallowed, sharp ache tugging at her fast-beating heart. Not you, too. She'd already lost Oskar and Fergus. Losing you would shatter her. She was the one who'd had her fate sealed. She was the one who murdered and destroyed for centuries without a shred of remorse. She was the one who took your affections for granted for months before she finally allowed herself to admit that she was just as fond of you as you were of her.

If anyone deserved to be cursed, it was her.

It's not fair.

You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Rowena. Ever since you'd found out that Sam had been the one fated to kill her, you'd grown more protective of her. It had been unbearable at times, but Rowena knew you had no ill intentions. All you wanted was to keep her safe, to keep her alive and well. The same things she wanted for you. And when Sam had called, requiring assistance on a case involving a deadly witch, there was no way in hell you were going to let her go on her own.

You didn't trust Sam.

You didn't trust fate.

"What's wrong with her?" Sam asked, startling Rowena.

She took a quick breath, regaining her composure, and straightened out her voice before replying. "She's cursed."

"Aren't curses broken when a witch who cast them dies?" Dean said. He was standing by the door, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, like a plaid-clad bodyguard guarding the entrance to an illegal nightclub.

"Usually. But not this one," Rowena said. She met Dean's gaze, and then lowered her eyes back to your face. "This one's different."

"How so?"

"It's a sleeping curse. We have twenty four hours to break it. And if we don't…"

You will die.

The implication had been clear.

The brothers exchanged a look, at a loss of what to say. Rowena's lower lip trembled. Her hand tightened around yours, as if squeezing it would somehow make you wake up. But it wasn't that easy; it never was when it came to curses.

When it came to her.

She should have known this wouldn't end well. You were too good for a flawed, petty, evil creature like her. Why you stuck around for over three years, even after she had all but dismissed you for months, was a mystery.

What was it that you'd seen in her? It wasn't kindness or selflessness or any other good attribute. For a long time Rowena doubted she was capable of anything remotely good. She cared about you and treated you well, yes, but it was far from what you deserved.

Why had you put up with her for so long?"

"Okay," Sam said, having gathered some of his thoughts. "So how do we break it?"

"You can't. No one can. Well, no one except for one person, but…"

But she can't do it because she is a coward.

"But what? We find them and we make them break it. We've done it before," Dean said.

"It's not that easy. You can't force it. It has to be genuine." Rowena sighed. Her heart burned with guilt, like razor-sharp blades drugging into it and tearing it into pieces. Running her thumb over the back of your hand, she whispered, "A kiss."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"The curse can only be broken by a kiss."

"That's it?" Dean frowned, disbelief sprawled across his handsome face. He shot her a look. "Go on, then! Kiss her."

"Not just any kind of kiss. A true love's kiss," she explained.

"What, like in fairy tales?"

"Exactly. Where do you think they got the idea?"

"Why can't you kiss her? Y/N loves you," Sam said.

Rowena fought back another onslaught of tears. "I know she does, but… The love has to be mutual, otherwise it won't work."

"And you don't love her?" Dean asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Of course I do!" Rowena said defensively, offended at the insinuation. She loved you more than she loved anything in centuries. It was one of the few things in her old, miserable life that she was absolutely certain of.

Even still, she had her doubts. You showered her with love every single day. You spent every waking moment with your hand on her, letting her know that you were there, that you would protect her no matter what. Every time a nightmare or a flashback shattered her into pieces, you were there to pick her up and make her whole again.

All she did in return was melt into your touches and reciprocate words of love. What if that wasn't enough? What if her feelings weren't enough?

"I just…"

"You're scared," Sam said.

Rowena nodded, tearing up. The younger Winchesters features twisted into a look of compassion. He walked over to stand behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. Rowena twitched, but instantly eased under the comfort of his touch. The two of them weren't the best of friends. She wasn't sure their relationship could even be defined as friendship — yet, anyway. There was no telling what the future — one where he hopefully doesn't kill her — holds. For now, there was only an understanding between them. A deep, profound one, born out of their shared trauma at the hands of the devil. She allowed herself to be vulnerable around him, allowed herself to feel, to let it out. And, despite their interactions being rather short, Sam had learned to recognize her emotions — the few she'd allowed him to see.

He'd learned to recognize her fear.

"What-what if she loves me more than I love her? What if my feelings aren't enough?"

The mere thought sent Rowena's heart into overdrive. It beat furiously, as if she had just run a marathon, and cold chills of doubt slithered over the back of her neck and cascaded down her spine. You had done so much for her, and she had repaid you with so little. For a long while, she couldn't even tell you she loved you. You were the one who initiated most of the affection. For the majority of time, all she had to do was react.

"You'll never know unless you try," Sam said, his voice matching the kindness of his face.

Try.

Easier said than done.

"What if I fail?"

How was she supposed to live with letting yet another person she loved down? Sam and Dean may have believed that she could be redeemed, but their conviction meant nothing if she couldn't prove it.

She had sworn to herself, to you, that she would try. She would do her best to be good rather than bad — or, at the very least, something in-between. But what if her attempts were in vain? What if, no matter what she did, she remained the same selfish, evil witch who taught herself to hate rather than love, who ruined and destroyed and shattered everything she set her sights on? What if the picture of herself she'd spent centuries painting could never be changed?

"What makes you think you're going to fail? Rowena, I've seen the way you look at her. That's not the look of someone who doesn't love."

Was she really that obvious?

"Maybe it's the look of someone who doesn't love enough."

"It's not."

The conviction in Sam's voice was almost overwhelming. He believed in the strength of her feelings more than she believed in it herself.

"You love her. I don't see how that wouldn't be enough."

Rowena swallowed, eyes trailing over your still features. There were moments when she would wake up and spend minutes looking at you. Not moving, not making a sound, just looking at the tranquility of your face. You trusted her so much that you were willing to sleep with her. Most people barely trusted her enough to turn their backs on her. You, on the other hand, were comfortable being around her at your most vulnerable. Even back when you'd just met her, when she was a cold, heartless witch who'd only agreed to tutor you because she was attracted to your power, you never feared her.

Instead, you treated her with kindness. A day hadn't gone by without you sending a nice word her way, always accompanied with a smile. Rowena knew you'd had a crush on her before you'd even realized it for yourself. And, as your feelings grew with every passing day, it had taken her even longer to acknowledge that she wasn't as incapable of love as she thought she was.

"I rarely ever tell her," Rowena said after a few silent moments. Guilt dripped from her every word, and she had to take a deep breath to compose herself and stop her voice from breaking.

"You show her, don't you?" Sam inquired.

She did. She kissed you, held you, wiped your tears when you were sad. She listened to you when you talked, and made sure to give you as much attention as you were giving her. She responded to every love confession you'd make.

But she'd barely say it first.

"Not nearly enough."

"She knows," Sam said. "You've been together for — what? Three years?" She nodded. Sam smiled. "She wouldn't have stuck around that long if she didn't know."

"Look, we don't always express our feelings the usual way," Dean suddenly said, prompting Rowena to shift her gaze to him. "Some of us just aren't good with words. It's the actions that count. Ever hit her?"

"What? No!" Rowena exclaimed, scowling venomously at the hunter.

"Lie to her? Manipulate her?"

"No!"

"Abuse her?"

"Of course not!" How dare he even suggest that? Rowena was far from the perfect girlfriend, but she would never — had never — purposely cause you pain. "I treat this girl like a queen. I have never harmed her. And I don't appreciate your insinuations!"

"See? That right there is proof you love her." A smirk tugged at the corner of Dean's lips. "A couple weeks back I asked Y/N something similar about you."

Rowena narrowed her eyes.

Dean shrugged defensively. "Hey, I wasn't exactly your biggest fan."

Fair enough.

She allowed it.

"Anyway, she was pissed," he continued. "Reacted worse than you just did. It's not the reaction of someone who's underloved. She knows she's not. I know it, Sam knows it. You can think what you want, but the fact remains, you love that girl as much as she loves you."

Did she?

Rowena pondered on it for a moment.

She did. She loved you more than anything in the world, more than life itself. Even before she let herself admit it, she felt it. She'd been feeling it for a long time. She was bad at showing it, and even worse at expressing it, but it was there every second of every day, roiling in her heart every time her eyes would meet yours, every time your lips would widen into a smile and your arms would wrap around her. It was there now, tearing her apart with guilt for letting this happen, for not having been fast enough to prevent it.

For doubting herself when you most needed her.

"And right now, she needs you," Dean said, voicing her thoughts aloud. "You don't think you show you love her enough? Show it to her now. Kiss her. Break the curse. Prove her and yourself that you feel the same."

His words echoed in Rowena's head. Proof. If she kissed you and you rose back into life, it would be proof enough that the love you shared was mutual, equal. What better way to show it than by saving a loved one from certain death?

Still, an inkling for a doubt itched at Rowena's soul. What if it wasn't enough? What if all she manages to prove is that she doesn't love you the same way after all, and can do nothing but watch as you wither away, no cure in sights?

Sensing her doubts, Sam said, "Y/N would want you to try. Say it doesn't work. It's still an effort. She'd appreciate it. I know she would."

Rowena knew it, too. You never demanded anything from her, never expected the impossible. All you wanted was that she stay with you. That she stay amongst the living. Sometimes to the point of being overbearing. You'd made it clear many times before, whenever you'd get into one of your overprotective modes, that all that mattered to you was that she was safe. She could hate you for it; you didn't care.

Your devotion knew no bounds.

And neither did Rowena's.

Her tearful gaze met Sam's. His lips turned downward, in sync with the compassionate expression on his face, and his grip on her shoulder tightened. "But it will work."

His words rang true. They had to be true. There was too much conviction in them not to be. He believed in her. Dean believed in her. Had you been conscious, you, too, would believe in her — there was no doubt about that.

"Just try," Sam said. "For her."

Try.

Yes. She had to try. She owed you that much, after everything you'd done for her. Rowena would never forget the sleepless nights you'd spent holding her, after been woken up by her screams and kicks as Lucifer torture replayed in her mind, over and over again, driving her insane even while she was asleep. She would never forget your arms around her and your comforting words when she would flash back to those horrible moments in the middle of the day. Sometimes even in the middle of the street. You'd never been embarrassed, never rushed to hide her from the intruding glances of strangers out of shame. They didn't matter to you. Their judgment and gossips didn't matter to you. All that mattered was her.

And all that mattered to Rowena was you.

If you could dedicate months of your life to taking care of her, she could wake you up with a kiss. It was the least she could do.

Giving a small nod, Rowena inched closer to you. Sam's hand lifted from her shoulder. He stood up and joined his brother by the door, giving her privacy. A small smile of gratitude played at Rowena's lips, then it vanished as her eyes fell on you once again.

This would work. It had to work.

I love you, she thought.

And then she leaned down and pressed her lips to yours.

Her thoughts remained focused on words of love, summoning the emotions she had, for a long time, wanted to keep as far away from her as possible, locked behind a wall distant of coldness. Now, all she wanted was to feel. To love you the way you deserved to be loved, just like you loved her.

Love wasn't weakness; it never was, Rowena realized as her heart fluttered with warmth, soon followed by the rest of her body, the love she felt for you flooding through her veins like blood, needful, comforting. It was strength. It hurt and brought forth guilt and regret, but at the same time, it gave her an identity. It made her a person, just like everyone else. A person who could love as well as hate, who could cry as well as laugh and protect as well as destroy. It gave her life a purpose — to be better, to redeem herself, or at the very least try her hardest to.

It gave her you.

She wasn't going to let you slip away from her. Not now that she was so close to a new life, so close to happiness. She was going to be a better person, for herself, for her lost family, for you, and you would be there to see it happen. You would be there to hold her hand, show her the light when she stumbled, and compliment every step of progress she'd made.

She needed you in her life.

For a few moments nothing happened. Rowena's heart sank, hopes dwindling with each passing second.

Suddenly, your eyes fluttered open. Rowena's mouth went agape and a gasp escaped it. Her breath stilted, caught in her throat. She choked back a sob, relief overflowing her like a warm summer breeze caressing every inch of her, a gentle comfort to her tense body.

It had been enough.

Her kiss, her feelings, they had been enough.

Sam and Dean were right — her love was equal to yours.

"What happened?" you asked, rising up into a sitting position and rubbing your eyes with your free hand.

Rowena's fingers squeezed your other one tighter, as if looking for proof that this was real, that she wouldn't wake up anytime soon and find herself beside your sleeping body, powerless to do anything but watch you wilt away. You were here to stay. She wasn't going to lose you; not in the next twenty four hours, and not anytime after that, for as long as she has a say in it.

"You're awake," Rowena whispered, more to herself than to you. She did it — she'd broken the curse. After everything you'd done for her, she'd finally found a way to give at least some of it back. She'd proven you that she loved you the same way, had proven herself that she was capable of it. Just as Dean had said.

She'd be lying if she said a part of her wasn't beaming up with pride.

Heart jumping in joy, Rowena threw her arms around you, enveloping you in a hug. You gasped, startled, but were quick to reciprocate. She melted into the warmth of your embrace. Her hold on you was tight, growing stronger with every breath she took. Usually, it was you who held onto her, with Rowena acting nonchalant, as if it was nothing.

It was everything.

You were everything.

"You're awake," Rowena repeated. Tears spilled down her cheeks, finally free. She had neither strength nor wish to hold them back anymore. Her girl was back, and it was all because of her. Because of her love. You were safe now; safe and awake, far away from death. Nothing else mattered. "You're awake."

"Yeah, I am," you said, voice giving away your rising confusion. You looked around and frowned at your surroundings, head still clouded by a mist of cursed drowsiness. "Where am I?"

"The bunker," Dean said.

"What happened?"

"You were cursed," Sam explained.

"I was?"

"Yeah. Sleeping curse," Dean said.

"Rowena broke it," Sam said.

"She did? You did, sweetheart?" you asked, speaking to her once again.

"Yes," Rowena replied. Her voice cracked and a sob escaped her mouth before she could swallow it back.

"Rowena, what's wrong? Are you crying?" You gently pushed her away from you and frowned at her tear-streaked expression. Confusion on your face morphed into concern. "Why are you crying? Are you okay?" You looked her over, eyes scanning every exposed piece of her skin like a microscope. "Are you hurt?"

Rowena almost chuckled. You'd come so close to death, and you still worried about her. "I thought I'd lose you," she rasped through tears.

"That's never gonna happen."

"It almost did."

Had the brothers not been there to restore her confidence, she may never have gathered the necessary courage to kiss you.

Rowena broke down into sobs at the thought. Your hands instantly reached for her cheeks, cupping them with utmost tenderness.

"Hey, hey," you soothed. "It's okay. I'm here. You're never gonna lose me." You threw a sideways glance at Sam, then quickly averted your eyes back to meet Rowena's. "And I'm never gonna lose you." A small smile formed on your lips. "Thank you for waking me up."

You didn't need to thank her. You being amongst the living was all the gratitude she could ever ask for.

"You're welcome, dear."

She tried to smile, but all she managed to do was to release another sob.

"What's wrong, honey?" you asked. She lowered her gaze, avoiding your eyes. One of your hands trailed down to her chin and tilted her head up to face you. "Tell me."

Would you hate her if you were to find out the truth?

Rowena mentally scoffed. Of course you wouldn't! It was a ridiculous thought. You could never hate her; she'd given you plenty of reasons in the past and you'd always stuck by her, not even considering any ill feelings, let alone actually feeling them. Still…

How do you tell the person you love the most that you doubted the strength of your feelings for them?

"Um…" Rowena glanced back at Sam and Dean, red-rimmed eyes pleading. This was an intimate conversation. She'd already bared enough of her vulnerability to them.

"We'll give you guys some privacy," Sam said, instantly taking the hint.

Rowena sighed in relief and gave them a grateful smile. Once the brothers had vacated the room and closed the door behind them, she turned back to you. You were looking at her, eagerly awaiting her explanation. Rowena swallowed. She moved her hand forwards, but stopped it an inch away from yours. Fear boiled inside her, hot and aching, like lava burning at her insides. Burning her alive just like Lucifer had all those months ago. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes fell to her hands. Her fingers curled around the sheets, clutching them until her knuckles turned white, as if she would lose her balance and fall over if she were to let go.

"You were under a sleeping curse."

"Yeah, I know."

Rowena shock her head, a new batch of tears burning at the corners of her eyes. "You don't understand. This curse… It's different from others."

"How so?" you asked with a frown. Rowena's eyes found yours once again. Your gaze burned into hers, intense, firm, letting her know that she had your full attention.

"Killing the witch who cast it doesn't break it."

"What does?"

"A kiss."

You blinked, confusion joining the curiosity on your face. "A kiss?"

"True love's kiss," Rowena clarified.

"Like in Once Upon a Time?"

She chuckled. "Yes, exactly like that."

"You woke me up with a true love's kiss!" you beamed after a few moments of silence that had befallen the two of you. Your lips were wide with a smile, bright and cheerful. Loving. Trusting.

Rowena's heart broke at the sight. She'd almost let you die because of her doubts, and here you were, rejoicing at being woken up with a kiss. How could she not think you loved her more than she loved you? Even now that she knew the truth, that both of you loved the other equally, a shadow of a doubt clouded the back of Rowena's mind. Why couldn't she show it the way you did? Why couldn't she let herself be happy?

"That's so awesome!" you said. "I feel like a princess." Your smile faded when you noticed the somber look on her face. "What? Is there more? Don't tell me there was a sacrifice or something."

"No! No, there was no sacrifice," Rowena said, and you let out a breath of relief.

"What is it, then? Why are you sad?" You took hold of her hand, fingers threading through hers in a gentle knot. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

She knew she could. That was the problem — she could tell you anything. Do anything. Be anything. You loved her no matter what, without a single droplet of doubt. You were never afraid to show it.

Unlike her, whose entire body was trembling with fear.

"I didn't think I could do it," she admitted reluctantly.

"Wake me up?"

Rowena nodded.

"But you love me."

"I do, but… I didn't think it would be enough."

You narrowed your eyes, confused. "What do you mean?"

Rowena sighed, then took a deep breath. "The curse can only be broken if both sides feel the same way."

"Equal love?"

"Yes."

"What's the problem, then?" Your eyes widened. "Did you think I don't—"

"No!" Rowena cut you off, horrified by the mere thought. She squeezed your hand tighter. "No, darling. I could never… I know you love me."

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"I wasn't sure I felt the same way," Rowena admitted. A tear slid down her face, then another, and another, drenching her face. Her red cheeks burned even redder.

"That's ridiculous!" you said without even giving it a thought. "I know you love me."

"The feelings have to be equal in strength. The kiss doesn't work if one side loves the other less."

Comprehension dawned on your face like a sharp slap. "You thought I love you more than you love me?"

Rowena nodded, choking back a sob. "You're always so good to me, and I never give back. I barely even tell you I love you," she whimpered.

"That's not true." Your free hand cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away a tear. "Okay, you're not big on telling. So what? You're awesome at showing! Remember how you took care of me when when I had the flu a couple months ago? You were like a mom!"

You smiled at the memory.

"You're always there when I need you. You listen when I talk. You taught me how to use my magic. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be more human than witch."

You ran your fingers over her cheek in a light caress. Rowena leaned into the touch, basking in your warmth and safety.

"I know you love me like I love you. You don't have to tell me all the time. It's not a competition, okay?"

"Okay," Rowena said through tears, voice barely above a whisper.

"Just… be yourself. That's all I ask."

It had been centuries since Rowena loved. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like. You'd done so much for her, and she wanted nothing but do right by you. As it turned out, that was exactly what she'd been doing. She didn't have to force her feelings; they were already there, hidden in the touch for her hand and the smile she flashed you every morning. You were right — she didn't have to say anything when she showered you with love with every single move she made. Actions spoke louder than words. A kiss and a hug were just as powerful as a confession.

"I will," Rowena said. "I promise."

You grinned. "That's my girl."

Your lips met in a short, sweet kiss, then Rowena pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on your shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Y/N."

For the first time in forever, she said it with utmost confidence, all doubts gone from her mind as if they had never existed. She loved you, just like you loved her. Truly. Madly. Deeply. Strongly. Equally.

Unconditionally.

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @darktweet @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @royalrowena @supwhorecorp @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @laeshhh @dropsofpetrichor @fromflametofire @xfireandsin @liddell-alien

#rowena #rowena x reader #rowena macleod #sam winchester #dean winchester #rowena macleod x reader #samwena #rowean #samwitch #spn #supernatural #fanfic #fanfics #fic #fics #fanfiction #my fics #unconditionally

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icefrozendeadlyqueen · 4 years

Text

Deadly Sisters: (y/n)’s Prologue.

Title: Deadly Sisters

Family: Reader comes from a family involve in the unknown. The world normal people have no clue about. They can theorize, but they can never be completely sure. Their family prefers to work on their own, "better work alone than with a crowd, right?".

Summary: Two killers rely on each others... What could possibly go wrong???

Ships: (y/n) x Ubbe, (y/n) x Sigurd, Ashla x Hvitserk. Reader insert words use

Favorite Coffee: (f/c) Your name: (y/n) Last name: (l/n) (Your tagged id)

Warning: There are huge topics in here. I’m sorry if it offends anyone, but I couldn’t stop once I started writing.

Story: On going. It's text/scenes. I hope you enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My name is (y/n) (L/n), I am a hacker Hitman.

I thought life was simple in most terms speaking my simple is other's dismay or death. It all depends on my mood. I have a set of skills well learned throughout my life; it's a family legacy to know how to align with people at a level is certainly scary. I am always learning everything I can get my hands on from truth, rumors, lies and overall the darkest information known to men. Example, people's lives are a new chapter of a story, why did Gregory kill his wife? huh.

The cops said his wife was cheating on him. The first cop to come at the cries of the neighbors threw up in the scene of the crime. Revolting. It's all he manage to muster to the news. His family wants to believe he was posses by the devil. Only reasonable explanation for a gentleman that burn his wife and kids alive, right? Her family believes he was paranoid. They demand him to be given the highest type of punishment, Capital Punishment. The neighbors can't believe what has occur. Its such an atrocious act. They retell that night like a replying nightmare every time they close their eyes. "I woke up to the screams of Tiffany. She was a nice gal used to bring me pie whenever she had some extra". "In all my 80 years of living in this neighborhood something like this has never happen. They had family issues as any couple would". "Gregory and Tiffany were an exceptional matrimony. They would come to my families Saturday cooks out! Tiffany would bring her famous pie! Gregory bring some of the whiskey I like. We have a good time. My kids like their kids. We didn't notice anything wrong". His colleague detail how good he was at his job. He took a good length of time to manage his work to perfection. It became Gregory's signature. Her colleague say she was diligent. She never once made a mistake. Those people that envy her believed she was a witch how could she had a response for everything. Always being right neither wrong on anything. What a load of bullshit

A conservative small town what could possible go wrong with such a murder? it's the center of the epicenter.

Whats hot in news right now? I will let you know in more than one occasion. Hypothetically speaking a woman by the tag name Veronica_Ink join my chatroom long ago. I have always explained to them the chat rules here in the dark web.

(Private Message between (your tagged Id) & Veronica_Ink)

Veronica_Ink: "I have joined through a secure server on my husband's computer".

(Your tagged Id): "I don't particularly give a shit how you join. I am telling you not to come here looking for trouble, ma'am. I am fed up of saving damsels in distress".

Veronica_Ink: "My dad is a rapist, and I sleep with a pistol under my pillow".

(Your tagged Id): "Okay. You have experience to be here at least. It took an escalating turn"

Veronica_Ink: "It's alright. I had gone as far as too change my name and any trace of that from my present. Now, I have beautiful children and a treasure of a husband".

(Your tagged Id): "Cute then why are you here?"

Veronica_Ink: "Not all fairy tales are true...."

(Your tagged Id): "Enough said". I didn't ask what she meant in any way or form I don't care. It's how this new century works. The less you care the less probability of getting caught. A rule the (L/n) family has lived by for centuries, and we have manage to avoid detection. It's a sweet taste in your mouth like drinking the nectar of gods, A.K.A. (F/c), knowing that we haven't gotten caught yet. It's the best part of a thrill being known like any other millennial

Veronica_Ink: "We are the picture perfect couple since middle school. We grew up in a small town high school sweethearts, you know?".

(Your tagged id): "I have never understood the necessity of high school sweethearts".

Veronica_Ink: "It's like finding your other half for high school".

(Your tagged id): "I get that part, but I don't see the point. The expectations of happy ever after until is not possible".

Veronica_Ink: "It's picture perfect".

(Your tagged id): "Outside until people decide to look close enough".

We agreed it was just going to be a quick chat or did I just agreed to that? We never talk about it to be precise so I just don't understand the tugging I feel re-reading this none existence conversations lost in deep thoughts. I have single handle all of my problems without relying on my family much. We take on jobs that we have no emotional attachment what so ever... I guess I didn't comprehend why would that be. I have never taken a job with another family member for actual good reasons.

Jobs. Tasks. It's all the same in terms, isn't it? I am already 10 steps to close to this.

Veronica_Ink: "You don't like high school sweethearts, do you?"

(Your tagged id): "It seems all fake to me for some it works. I have no problem with it, but I have never understood the term high school sweethearts. The concept itself seems to be playing with fate, and fate is laughing at it".

Veronica_Ink: "Ahhhhh. You had a high school sweetheart?"

(Your tagged id): "No, I have never stay in a high school long enough. It was particularly entertaining".

Veronica_Ink: "Awh.. that's awful"

(Your tagged id): "It really isn't. You are probably thinking of an orphan or movng a lot type of deal. I am neither".

Veronica_Ink: "Yeah... you don't seem like the person to give a shit either. It was nice to talk to you, (y/n). I have to go attend to some things."

(Your tagged id): "Yeah, don't mention it. Have a good day Tiff".

Veronica_Ink: "Tomorrow same time?"

(Your tagged id): "Same place".

Who knew I would have gotten a friend from this illegal dump? Hell would laugh at my stupitity. I got attached. She knew before I knew. Well know... I did some bringing up to the light. I have uncover her life not like somthing can be hidden from me. There is nothing in this world that I can't crack with enough practice and hard work as long as you don't get caught. I don't need to be recognize on anything what's the point of doing something if people acknowledge it.

Just fucking do it and let the repercussions come later. I have many completely sign for me as we speak. My father always said, "Time will only tell, pop. We either keep doing things right protecting the family or we fail all together screwing the family". He has a point that there is no in between. I look at it the way anyone would have I don't regret my choices or the fact I am obviously blinded by emotions at this point. What the fuck was I thinking??

That's right I wasnt fucking thinking. I keep hearing my father's advice through out all my bad decisions a reminder that I am making a shitty hole for myself. I may as well make it even more big than it should be. I call myself a hitman, but I am here trying to solve marital problems? Jesus Christ. I am trying to blame somebody where there is nobody to blame. I am trying to find an excuse where there is none. I always will be a step ahead of everyone unless I let my heart lead.

(Your tagged id): "How are the kids?"

Veronica_Ink: "They are doing amazing! Little josh won fourth place on his spelling bee tornament, "Mom, I'll work hard to get #1 next year", he is the most cutest thing. Gregory offer to help him train up, and I almost forgot about last night beating. I have to thank you with helping jessica yesterday, you know? her paper got an A+. The university loved it. I don't know how you do it all the thoughts she wanted to express you had it on paper".

(Your tagged id): "Don't mention it, Tiffany. I am glad I could help even in the slightest. What about little jimmy? Is he better from the flu?"

Veronica_Ink: "We just got home from his check up. Gregory bought him a baseball bat, so they can plan on that trip. Jimmy wants to become a baseball player".

(Your tagged id): "The kid has a bright imagination... isn't this his 17th switch so far? How much energy does he has... you wouldn't fucking believe he has an illness damn".

Veronica_Ink: "haahahahah. Actually his 26th so far, "Mommy! I love them all! Fire fighter, super hero and baseball player! I want to be all", he said that on our way back and Gregory told him the sky is the limit.

(Your tagged id): "I pity his babysitter".

Veronica_Ink: "That's me”.

(Your tagged id): "I digress".

Veronica_Ink: "Ah come on! He is the cutest!".

(Your tagged id): "You can't decided which of your children is the cutest. On that note, who's the favorite?".

Veronica_Ink: "You know is getting late.. I should be going."

(Your tagged id): "I rest my case".

Veronica_Ink: "hahahahahaha. All jokes aside little lady. How are you today? You don't particularly like pen names, but I can't seem to resist"

(Your tagged id): "I ignored them. I am doing pretty good and you? I have had a pretty good week. Thank you for asking Tiff".

Veronica_Ink: "Doing as well as a viking burning boat. Jessica got into USCF, little jimmy says he will become a baseball player, and lil josh says he'll be the next spelling bee champion".

(Your tagged id): "So an honorable death? Well, this took a turn. It's UCF btw. I am guessing excitement took a turn".

Veronica_Ink: "Yeah, I started watching this discovering channel with Jessica.. you know mother and daughter quality time?! I am so happy! She ask me to watch it with her. I thought she would ask her best friend and not her boring mother."

(Your tagged id): "That's sweet you two are spending time together. I have to take a big dump on that 'boring mother' do I have to remind you that you are in a dark web chatroom. I don't think thats boring".

Veronica_Ink: "I can't really bragged about it though. That's like one of your main rules of the page or did you forgot? You say you'll ban people or ruin their life".

(Your tagged id): "Touché. Let me think... brag about your life? You won a hot dog competition in middle school? You punch that slutty math teacher in high school that's in prison now? I am going on a limb here but your life is not boring. It might not be celebrity worthy, but that doesnt matter".

Veronica_Ink: "Good point. My daughter is showing interest in my life! I feel so happy right now. Don't you think punching a teacher was a little too much?"

(Your tagged id): "It depends on what happen. Normally teachers are respecting human beings that deserve the world offer to them. Ashley was a racist little shit".

Veronica_Ink: "Look, (y/n) not everyone name Ashley is a bully or a racist or a pedophile. It was just a huge coincidence. My sister's name is Ashley".

(Your tagged id): "And? Lets not even get on the topic of your sister... she isn't a good example to begin with.

Veronica_Ink: "Touché. On good terms, what can I bragged about? Jessica is my star. I want her to look up to me. I want her to think I am like a super mom?".

(Your tagged id): "She already thinks that. Jessica knows you put a lot of work on feeding her, so she can get all her vitamins and minerals. She bought you flowers last friday after you stood by her when that douch broke her heart. She may not see much of your cool right now because she is a teenager that's basically their definition. Don't over think it much, Tiff. You are an amazing mother. You are doing just fine".

Veronica_Ink: "You are probably right. I am going to go right now. I want to give them all my undying attention".

(Your tagged id): "Good night, Tiffany".

Veronica_Ink: "Good night, (y/n)".

I have a weak point on some extent. I'll accept it. Other than my sister nobody has broken through my hard core firewall. I guess the first instict to change is to fight it or just be crazy for a little bit. I am friends with Tiffany. This is just incredible. This is a healthy friendship, right? You care for something. It's natural right? It's an excuse isn't it? I guess. I am not sure anymore. Ashla would have laugh at my weakness. She would have put a bullet on Tiffany and walk away. I wish I could just let go, but I care too much to walk away. I love her to much to let go.. is that what friendships are? You care for another person more than yourself. I thought families fall into that category...

I have never let anyone in. Tiffany knowing my real name makes her a target, but there is no way she'll become one right? No. I am just being paranoid. Yeah.. that's it. Paranoia.

Veronica_Ink: "It was a weird old man. I lost little josh at the amusement park, and he said an old man guide him to a van. He bought him an ice cream and told him to stay inside. I am terrified and scared about it. He said a woman came before the smelly old man could hurt him. She took his hand, knew his name and even play some games with him. He said the woman got him that teddy bear he wanted, but I told him I didn't had enough change for".

(Your tagged id): "Huh why are you telling me all of this?"

Veronica_Ink: "It was you, wasn't it? Don't deny it, (y/n). Josh secretly told me the woman knew my name. He told the police the description of the man. I was relieved when the cops found the old man, and it wasn't one of josh made up stories. He was brutally murder, (y/n). Execution style. The police told Gregory and I that there was a woman, but there is no camera that caught the woman's face. We could only see little josh talking to someone.. we recognize it was a woman because of the voice... just please. Thank you".

(Your tagged id): "Execution style? Sheez. Veronica. I don't do Execution Style. I am a hacker for fuck sake how would I know how to kill people?"

Veronica_Ink: "You said so yourself. Anything can be accomplish with enough anger built up".

(Your tagged id): "When the heck did I said that?"

Veronica_Ink: "The day before the amusement park. We talk. You said to watch my kids because there was news reports of kids disappearing and found dead a week later".

(Your tagged id): "Me and my big mouth."

Veronica_Ink: "I know it was you. I want to believe it was you".

(Your tagged id): "It wasn't me. I had been at home all day. I was working on a job"

Veronica_Ink: "Computer related? I know you can't do remote jobs.. Hmm.. Well.."

(Your tagged id): "Do you have any prove anyways?"

Veronica_Ink: "No.. I had a feeling. Josh had a bubble gum package and a chocolate bar in his jetted pocket. The only person I know that loves coffee more than life is you plus you are the only person that knows josh favorite bubble gum. He is a hard kid to follow strangers. He knows better than to do that, but he told me that the woman was my friend. No, his exact words were "My Guardian angel"".

(Your tagged id): "Can you just accept your kid is safe? He is away from harm. You are all a big family again, right? Be happy idk"

Veronica_Ink: "Thank you, (y/n)".

(Your tagged id): "It was my sister, okay?".

Veronica_Ink: "The deemed one?"

(Your tagged id): "We are all deemed, but yes"

Nah, bitch. It was me. Fuck. You see my point. I am attached to a level that can become deadly. I knew that old faggot wouldn't resist a lost kid. I knew that. I had to do some extra remote work to make up for it, but it was worth it. It was. It is worth it. Why wouldn't it be? Tiffany is save and the jumping troll thats her kid is doing good. I got attach to her and her kids.. I am a fool.

Execution Style seem the fair go to for all his fucking crimes. He had all the kids outfits. The ones he hurt. I got emotionally involve so what? like its a fucking crime. I couldn't live with myself if I let it happen. I couldn't live with my conscience. I feel... fuck.. so predictable right? (y/n) stares at her diary letting go of another sigh. (y/n)'s eyes scroll through the images in her computer of an old chat conversation with vivid notes she wrote daily to keep up with her changing or Tiffany growing into her. (y/n) lips tremble in little weeps tears that she doesnt bother to clean, "It's done sweet, Dove. I have avenge you... it has been a long time old friend". (y/n) words leave a sore taste in her lips though a sweet feeling inside her even if its been old to come. The words don't make her feel any better nothing seem to do fix the broken shell of a woman she was anymore, "I have a flight to catc-". The words lost within a train of tears coming furiously from her eyes as her heart opens accepting what she was pushing back all this years.

Yeah I can't believe that either. Dear old friend. You can rest in peace now, okay? The bitch is dead along with your ex-husband.

#reader insert #emotional #friendship #vikings #prologue

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an-aura-about-you · 7 years

Text

novaiiiiiiume

replied to your post

“I wanna write stuff while I’m working on the house. Give me the...”

LOHENTUTU

PLEASE

GHOSTIES MEETING THE SQUAD

If that’s ok

Wow, this took longer than I meant to for a number of reasons, but I couldn’t resist doing this! Although I took it in a bit of a different direction. What can I say? Plot bunny latches on, you don’t let plot bunny go.

The three sit around the ancient, ornate spirit board on the floor of Autor’s recreation of Drosselmeyer’s study. It’s a gorgeous little antique, nothing like the mass-produced spirit boards available at the toy store nowadays. The heavy wooden board pivots and unfolds over its storage compartment. Within are a couple of planchettes with fine crystal windows to magnify the beautifully inked letters, numbers, and words. Holding it feels the way old books smell, which isn’t too unusual since it’s spent most of its life in a library.

“Of all the things for my family to have and me not know about it,” Autor grouses as he places the planchette on the board.

Erina teasingly smiles and says, “Accept that your reputation as the weird occult kid is fully warranted.”

Autor harrumphs. Erina shrugs.

Fakir crosses his arms and goes, “This seems pointless. Whatever’s haunting me has done it the most at my house.”

“It’s not my fault I’m allergic to your pet duck,” Autor says.

“Besides, whatever it is followed you to class,” Erina points out. “You said you heard it call out to you. It’s looking for you specifically.”

Fakir looks to his... well, friends might be strong. Work associates isn’t quite accurate, either. Humans he can somewhat rely on that aren’t in a story. He and Erina are agreeable enough company, so she’ll come along no matter what. However, he needs Autor to cooperate since he’s the one who owns the spirit board and knows how it works. No other options left, Fakir unfolds his arms and places his fingers on the planchette. The others follow suit and proceed to open the board.

“Is anyone here?” Fakir asks.

The planchette stays still between the three.

“Has someone been trying to contact me?” Fakir asks, undaunted.

Autor sneezes, and the planchette twitches.

“That doesn’t count,” Erina says.

“I wasn’t trying to make it move,” Autor grumbles through his handkerchief.

The planchette twitches again.

“Have you been trying to contact me?” Fakir presses.

The planchette practically jumps out of their hands, leaping to YES.

“Now you’re just teasing him,” Autor says, glaring at Erina.

“Oh, great way to cover up your acting,” Erina quips.

Fakir shushes them. “Neither of you are in on it. I’m not even in on it! That’s the whole point.”

“Then one of us should ask a question,” Erina says, indicating herself and Autor.

“Who are you, spirit?” Autor asks, getting them back on track.

The planchette slips down to the letters T and U only to repeat them.

Erina rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding? We’re playing fairy tale games? This is the worst Halloween party I’ve ever been to.”

“Now, now, what if it’s a demon pretending to be Princess Tutu?” Autor sarcastically suggests.

Something in Autor’s voice prickles Fakir. It carries just a bit more of Drosselmeyer’s sadistic glee than he’s comfortable with. That’s the last thing any of them need in this place. Fortunately, his question comes with a relatively simple answer.

“We ask a question only Tutu or someone close to her would know the answer to,” Fakir suggests.

Autor and Erina stare at Fakir like he’s grown two extra noses.

“Well, that should be really simple for anyone who’s read The Prince and the Raven to answer, which is almost everyone!” Autor protests.

But Fakir shushes him again. “Not unless they know the ending.”

“A trick question, then?” Erina asks. “Fakir, no one knows the ending. Drosselmeyer died before it was finished.”

Fakir sighs in exasperation and goes, “Look, however skeptical all three of us are, both of you trusted me far enough to actually sit with me around a spirit board. Trust me on this question.”

“Fine,” Autor grumbles.

“All right,” Erina agrees, resigned.

Fakir takes a breath to calm himself, closes his eyes a moment, and asks, “Tutu, where did the Prince hold you in his heart? Which shard did you manifest in?”

The planchette smoothly glides about to spell the answer:

Fakir nods, satisfied with this answer.

“Seriously?” Erina asks.

He shrugs and confirms, “It’s the right answer.”

“And you’re absolutely certain about this?” Autor presses.

“I could ask her another question, but I don’t know if that’s necessary,” he says. “Depending on what she wants, that is.”

“What do you want, Tutu?” Erina asks, directed to the spirit board this time.

“The Knight?” Autor wonders. “Why do you want him?”

“Wait,” Fakir says. “That might be it. Tutu and Lohengrin looking for each other in the hereafter. The voice I heard in class was too deep to be Tutu, but the noises I’ve heard at home sound like pointework.”

“So, what, you just run the personals for the dead now?” Erina jabs.

“You’re right here in the news room with me,” Fakir responds.

Autor holds back a snicker, but he sobers up enough to go, “So what’s the problem? They have you as a connection. Shouldn’t they be able to meet now?”

The planchette moves again to answer:

Erina sits back a bit and goes, “Wow. That’s kind of cruel.”

“Yeah,” Autor agrees. “Isn’t that always the thought, that you’d be reunited with your dead loved ones in the afterlife?”

“Maybe they couldn’t since Lohengrin died but Tutu vanished,” Fakir speculates.

The planchette moves again:

The three let the word sink in, the reality of what they might have to do weighing them down inside. All Lohengrin and Tutu want is a night of reunion, but at the cost of two of their three consciousnesses for the duration? And if they don’t, the two are going to keep haunting Fakir.

“We could’ve had a normal Halloween party,” Erina half-laments. “We could’ve watched some scary movies and sneak beer out of the fridge like normal teenagers. But instead we’re gonna get possessed by ghosts.”

“Now hold on, we haven’t agreed to anything yet,” Autor says. “And I for one am not giving up my body to some random spirit that might be Lohengrin or Tutu unless I’m absolutely sure it’s not going to cause any harm.”

Fakir takes a deep breath and goes, “I can make sure nothing bad happens. But if I do that, I can’t be one of the vessels.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Erina protests. “You’re not taking that kind of risk!”

“Erina,” Fakir says, voice as serious as she’s ever heard him get. “It’s not without risk for me, but the risk is lower for all of us if we follow this plan.”

Erina harrumphs, but it doesn’t have the same weight to it, and asks, “And what is your plan?”

“I’m going to write a story.”

Erina downright glares at him, but Autor jolts back and asks, “Are you kidding me?!”

“No.”

Autor runs his hand over his face. “You’re a Spinner?! You?!”

“You’re asking questions in the right tone, but you’re asking the wrong questions!” Erina shouts at Autor. “What is a Spinner and how is writing a story of all things supposed to protect us in case this turns into The Exorcist?!”

“I’ll explain everything later, but we should do this now if we can,” Fakir says.

“No, you won’t explain everything later because we shouldn’t explain it to her!” Autor yells, pointing accusingly at Erina.

“No! If I’m involved in it, I need to know at some point! You have no right to keep it from me!” Erina yells back.

“Would you two please be quiet?” Fakir hisses. “Look, if it doesn’t work, then the worst case scenario is I’m writing a story that will do nothing and both of you will be fine. You have nothing to lose.”

“Except our consciousnesses,” Autor says.

“For a night. That’s all. Whatever needs to be done, we’ll get it done tonight.”

“Hmph. Can we at least read the story in the morning?” Erina asks. “I might as well find out what happens to my body while someone else uses it.”

“Yes, I’ll agree to this if we can read the story tomorrow,” Autor agrees.

“Fine,” Fakir says, going along with the compromise.

“Fine,” Erina agrees.

“Fine,” Autor agrees.

And with that, the three close the board.

Lohengrin gasps a deep breath and feels at his chest for his mortal injury. He shakes and laughs, the glasses on his face blocking his hands from wiping away his tears. He takes them off, looks at the blurry room, and puts them back on.

“Lohengrin?”

He recognizes the voice even though he shouldn’t. “Tutu? Tutu, is that you?”

Tutu tucks her long hair behind her ears and nods. “I think so.”

Lohengrin crosses the short distance and grabs her hands with his, their fingers clumsily knitting together. Their foreheads touch, and they both laugh in breathless disbelief.

“It has been eons,” he tells her.

“I didn’t imagine Heaven to be a place to wait,” she responds.

“It’s been eons if it’s been a moment,” Lohengrin says, squeezing their joined hands. “I can’t count all of my days in what should be paradise spent thinking on when you would come, even if my heart was glad that you were with the Prince.”

She ducks her head down with a sniffle. “He’s finally whole and at peace. He’s with his Princess. And... and I’ve missed you more than I’ve known!”

Tutu takes her hands back and embraces Lohengrin as tight as her body allows, glad when he does the same and rests a hand on the back of her head.

“Has the time finally come?” Lohengrin asks her. “Can you join us?”

“I think so. I hope so. I believe the time has come now that the Prince’s heart is whole and not in danger of shattering again.”

He kisses her forehead and says, “You’ve done what I couldn’t, Tutu. And once you are there, Heaven will finally be complete.”

Tutu looks up and asks, “Will you stay with me until the dawn, Lohengrin?”

“Of course, of course,” he assures her, rubbing his thumbs along her tears’ trails. “We can cross it together.”

Of the three, Autor’s the first to wake up in the late morning.

He rubs the drowsiness from his eyes and tries to stretch out of his uncomfortable sit-sleep position only to find he’s holding hands with Erina. She’s in a state similar to his own pre-waking moments, the only difference being her head leaning against his shoulder. He opens his hand to let go of hers, but their fingers remain loosely knitted. He gently sets to work undoing her fingers, checking the both of them over for anything amiss. They seem no worse from the night, no strange marks or unusually mussed clothes.

Fakir sleeps slumped over the desk, some pages of parchment by his elbow.

The story.

Autor swallows, hands already trembling in anticipation. A story written by a Spinner in this very study. And he’s part of it, however small of a part he played. He quietly steps over and looks at the page on top, carefully taking it from the pile. He steadies himself with a breath, bracing himself to read.

“...eventually the Princess nodded off to sleep, her head resting on the Knight’s shoulder. She trusted in his promise that they would make the final journey together. Her time to guide others had come to an end, and the Knight would take his turn to guide her to the Heaven she’s dreamed of for so long.”

Did they just fall asleep while Fakir wrote his story? That’s all this seems to be, and yet the words plant an ache in Autor’s heart.

“Autor?”

He looks to Erina when she calls, possibly the first time either of them have used their proper names since this started. She gets to her feet with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head, and joins him by the desk.

“Is this the story?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he answers, passing her the page in his hand.

Erina takes it and quietly reads, making a soft little sigh when she reaches the end. She places the page back with the others, careful not to disturb Fakir.

“Should we wake him?” she asks.

Autor shrugs and goes, “Maybe we should just let him sleep.”

Erina nods. “Well, that was a Halloween party I won’t forget anytime soon.”

“Yeah...”

“Let’s just watch scary movies at the next one.”

#Princess Tutu: I might need my notes for this...#novaiiiiiiume #it's NOT in my Variations/Adaptations universe for once!#which means this is the first time Autor and Erina meet in this telling #look you didn't say which squad!#but man Fakir is kind of lonely #spirit board #I got it going really good and then realized what I was writing wouldn't work #that turned into 'FUCK!' *flips a coffee table*#okay it's 1:22 in the morning for me and I'm actually satisfied with this so here we go #except I probably actually will just put this in a queue because yeah

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