Tumgik
#inspired by a brief conversation in a discord server
hipstercabbage · 7 months
Text
hey transformers community
Tumblr media
can you find it in your heart to forgive and forget this
943 notes · View notes
Text
The video features custom community emojis by @azuzeldraws
We're ready for you to join The Creative Lounge Discord Community!
Community rules & guidelines are below the cut for anyone who'd like to preview them before joining.
Members must be at least 18 years old.
The Creative Lounge Community Invite
The Creative Lounge is a Discord community of creators and lovers of different genres, crafts, and talents that, together, foster a positive creative environment.
A good portion of this community is dedicated to content creators who work with different mediums. That's by design. We inspire one another and often collaborate. I hope The Lounge makes it easier to do both!
There's also room in here to play. I'm arranging the ability to stream art and video games in here, as well as host virtual tabletop games (these adventures are fantastic fodder for art, animation, stories, and audio works)!
Art and storytelling have been part of the human experience since our beginnings. They withstand disease, war, natural and unnatural catastrophes, and most impressively, time. Be proud of what you contribute.
Community Rules & Guidelines:
Rule #1: Be Aware. This is a shared space. You must be at least 18 years old to join this server. Individuals from all places and all walks of life congregate here. The sharing of personal information (name, location, etc.) is discouraged. Don't share personal images of anyone under the age of 18.
Rule #2: Be Respectful. Any disputes between members ought to be resolved privately. Disruptive behavior is not tolerated! No racism, sexism, hate speech, trolling, abuse, spam, picking fights, harassment, etc. Direct and indirect threats towards any other person are strictly prohibited and will incur an instant ban. Avoid discussing sensitive topics (examples: religion, politics). Try to keep the conversation relevant to the channel you are in. This is a multi-fandom, multi-shipping community. Hate directed at fandoms, characters, or ships is not allowed. While age gap ships are welcome, teacher/student ships are not (if characters are portrayed as teacher and student in canon material, do not share fanworks of those ships here). Don't steal content or ideas. Do not repost or share anything found here without the permission of that content's creator. When sharing content by others, they must be credited in your post. When sharing links to your content, ensure that it is thoroughly tagged in your post. Any NSFW content should be shared in the gated channels. No underage (less than 18 years old) or incestuous NSFW content (in ANY form, regardless of how brief it may be) is allowed in this server. Use tags and spoilers (if applicable) for “trigger warning” kind of content. Examples of warning tags: -Graphic depictions of violence -Character death -Rape/non-con/dub-con (A/B/O works are considered dub-con) Other things such as phobias, body horror, blood, etc, should also be tagged. If you would tag it on AO3 or a social media post, tag it here. If unsure, ask a mod for help!
Rule #3: Be Creative. This space was made so that content creators may meet and interact with each other and with fans of transformative works. It is encouraged (but not mandatory) to participate in Lounge events and challenges. Use this space to discuss your content and ideas, share tips, ask questions, etc.
Rule #4: Be Kind. This is meant to be a community. Remember to encourage and support one another. Visible support such as reblogging/retweeting, commenting, giving kudos, etc., ought to be considered part of being a Lounger. Do not simply use this server (or myself) as your marketing platform. Self-promotion is not only encouraged, but expected. However, when you promote your work, stick around to throw some support and encouragement at others.
52 notes · View notes
whatacaitastrophe · 3 months
Text
Is It Over Now - Chapter 11
Previous Chapter
Chapter Song Inspiration: "I Wanna Be Yours" - Artic Monkeys
Chapter Warnings: Oral Sex, MxF sex, blood drinking, brief mention of past suicide attempt
Spotify Playlist: Here
Chapter Notes: if you have read this fic, liked it, reblogged it, or left comments THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. keep the comments coming bc i love hearing your feedback (and like tinkerbell, i need applause to live). also, if you feel so called to support me in other ways, here is a link to all my other socials, including my twitch channel, "all my homies hate mystra" merch i created (lol), and a donation link <3
also!! i have a discord server!! it was made to coincide with the twitch channel, but i need more friends to talk about bg3 with so pls come hang. link is above!
Chapter 11: Breathing in Your Dust
Fallon is furious. With Gale, yes, but even more so with herself. 
First, she’s angry that she let Gale have even one dance with her at the ball, on what was supposed to be her night with Astarion. She should have asked him to explain right there in the library, to the both of them and then sent him on his way. Second, now that she knows where Gale has been, what he’s been doing ( who he’s been doing), she’s angry with herself for wasting two years of her life on that man. One year loving him so unconditionally, only for it to be thrown back in her face: and one year mourning their relationship and what could have been. She almost killed herself because of someone she meant so little to in the end. 
More than any of that, she’s angry with herself for not hearing Astarion out. If she’d just given him a chance to explain, Fallon’s conversation with Gale would have been far shorter and then she and Astarion could have gone back to their evening. He withheld the entire truth from her, but the vampire’s intentions were good. She should have listened. Lastly, she’s angry with herself for kicking Astarion out of the suite. His comment stung, but Fallon knows her choice to speak to Gale alone (or even give him a chance at all) hurt Astarion just as much as his insinuation that she is a whore. 
But even when Astarion was protecting his own heart by flinging precise insults in her direction, he’d told Fallon he would come back. He’d been willing to give her a night to cool off, and instead of walking away, she kicked him out. 
Now she could only pray to gods she didn’t believe in that when she finds Astarion (if she finds him), he’ll let her apologize. 
Fallon is a blur of chiffon as she flies down the stairs of The Elfsong living quarters towards the tavern. Maybe Devlon has seen Astarion, and maybe Astarion deigned to tell the barkeep where to find him, should anyone ask. Maybe—
Maybe Astarion is sitting at the bar with a sullen look on his face, nursing a goblet of wine with a half empty bottle to his left. Fallon stops in her tracks and stares for a moment in shock. Astarion came back. Even after the horrible things she said, the horrible things he said… he’s here. 
He’s here, and Fallon is now more certain than ever that she does not deserve this man. 
The sound of her heartbeat, or the scent of her must have revealed her presence to Astarion, because after a moment his body goes rigid as he stares into his goblet. When he looks up, his eyes immediately go to Fallon, she sees something there that Fallon isn’t sure she’s ever seen before. 
Hope. 
They may not have a mind connection through the tadpoles to speak to one another anymore but this time, without Gale there to cloud Astarion’s perception of the situation, it doesn’t matter. When Fallon stares back at him with an apologetic expression and a slight nod of her head, Astarion understands:
Fallon only needed to speak to Gale so she could send the wizard on his way. 
Astarion shoots to his feet so quickly he almost knocks his barstool over, and in less than five paces, he’s standing in front of Fallon. Fallon opens her mouth to apologize to him verbally, but before she can say anything, Astarion’s mouth is pressed against her own in a deeply passionate kiss. Fallon throws her arms around his neck and kisses him back, trying to convey how sorry she is in the way she moves her mouth against his. 
Somewhere in the tavern, somebody whistles, but Fallon barely hears it. The world dissolves around her and the only person she’s even remotely aware of is Astarion, and the way he grabs the backs of her thighs, bunching the skirts of her gown to pick her up and carry her out of the dining room. Fallon breathlessly pulls her lips away from his and looks at the man she’d fallen in love with as easily as breathing. “Astarion, I’m so sorry. I was horrible and cruel and you didn’t deserve any of it—“
Astarion stops walking halfway up the stairs and smirks at her. “Fallon, as much as I adore hearing you admit you were wrong, I’m a little busy at the moment making sure I don’t drop you.” He presses his mouth to hers again and continues climbing the stairs to the second floor. 
“You can put me down, you know.” she mutters against his lips and he laughs softly.  
“Now why would I do a thing like that when carrying you all the way back to our room is purely for the sake of letting everyone in this whole bloody place know that you are mine .” Fallon groans into his mouth as he kisses her again and they keep moving. Fallon has no idea how he’s even able to concentrate enough to get them back to the suit safely, never mind that he’s also doing it with his eyes mostly closed. Regardless of the how, it’s incredibly hot, and Fallon can already feel the heat pooling at the apex of her thighs when Astarion claims her as his, so she’s not really in a position to ask questions. 
Once outside their suite, Astarion presses Fallon’s back against the wall and holds her there. He releases her mouth from his and turns his attention to her neck. “Whilst we’re muttering apologies,” he presses a singular kiss on her neck. “I’m sorry for what I insinuated about you and the wizard earlier. You didn’t deserve that, either.” 
“I’m more than certain you will find a way to make it up to me.” Fallon hums. A soft moan leaves her mouth when she feels Astarion’s teeth scraping against her skin. 
“Likewise, darling.” he nips at her neck teasingly and returns his attention to her mouth. Astarion opens the door with one hand easily once they start moving again, and he kicks the door shut with his foot once they’re inside. That’s as far into the room as the two of them make it before Fallon feels her back against the wall again. 
Now that they are out of the public eye, all politeness (if one could even call kissing her passionately and carrying her through The Elfsong Tavern back to their bedroom “polite”) is thrown to the wind. 
“I have been thinking about all the places in this suite I want to have you,” he groans into her mouth and biting down on her lip and tugs, then soothes the spot with his tongue. “To taste you. To make you mine ,” he growls the last word. “For days. ” 
Fallon whimpers and shifts in his hold as she tries to press their bodies even closer together. “Just days?” she manages to tease. Astarion bites down on her bottom lip a little harder. 
“Weeks, really, but especially after our little tete-a-tete on the couch a few nights ago,” Astarion gently releases Fallon from his grip, not letting go until her feet are steady on the floor. Once they are, he pushes her roughly back against the wall and pins her there with his arms on either side of her. 
He leans down and presses a kiss just beneath her ear. “I’ve been thinking about the way you moaned my name and I wasn’t even trying that hard. It got me thinking… what kind of sounds will you make for me, how loudly will you scream my name, when I actually put in effort?” 
His words send a shiver down Fallon’s spine and her knees wobble. Astarion grabs her hips to keep her steady and laughs against her skin, pressing another kiss beneath her ear. “Easy, darling, there will be plenty of opportunity for you to get on your knees for me this evening.”
Fallon would have moaned if she could remember how to speak, or even how to breathe. It’s been a long time since dirty talk did it for her this well . When the time comes and Astarion finally gives any other erogenous zone of her body attention, making her come is hardly going to be a difficult task, for she’s already halfway there on his words alone. 
Her body has transitioned from wanting Astarion to needing him, and Fallon whimpers again. “Astarion, please.” 
Astarion pulls away just enough to look at her, and he releases one of her hips, raising his hand and tucking his fingers under her chin, forcing Fallon to look at him. “Please what, darling?” he smirks, eyes hazy with lust for her. 
“Touch me, bite me, fuck me, I don’t care but for the love of the gods please do something .” The tone she’d been aiming for was demanding but instead it comes out desperate, and Astarion grins. 
“That’s my good girl.” He praises, kissing her deeply once more. Astarion’s hands are quick, and Fallon’s mind is so focused on the fact that he’s cupping her breasts and his fingers are toying with the edges of the fabric at her cleavage that she barely has a chance to realize what is happening before the sound of fabric ripping fills the room and air is hitting her bare skin. This man ripped open her gorgeous gown, that he paid for no less, without a second thought. 
“The dress…” she mutters as they kiss. 
“I’ll buy you another one.” Astarion declares, not at all bothered by the destruction he just caused. He pushes the fabric off of her shoulders and the shredded gown falls to the floor at their feet. Fallon is almost completely naked before him, with only a thin piece of lingerie covering her bottom half, and he steps back to look at her. “Gods, you’re beautiful.” he admires her breathlessly. It’s the first time Fallon has really had the chance to look at him, and she's incredibly pleased at the sight of Astarion’s stiff cock straining against his trousers. 
Slowly, painfully so, Astarion takes a step towards her and sinks onto his knees before her. Fallon’s heart rate increases with anticipation, eyes unable to look away from Astarion’s as he slowly runs his hands over her legs. He taps the inside of her left knee, willing her to spread her legs for him, and he moves closer to her. Fallon does as she’s told, and and shudders as his hands continue their journey across her skin. 
“If you could not rip those, I’m quite fond of them.” Fallon requests teasingly when Astarion’s hands reach her skimpy lingerie. Astarion kisses the inside of their thigh, and looks back to her mischievously. “I’ll buy you another pair.” he declares and the sound of tearing fabric once again fills the room, and the pile on the floor at her feet grows. 
Fallon opens her mouth to say something to him, but her words are overpowered by the breathy gasp that spills out of her the moment Astarion’s thumb passes over her swollen clit. Her hips lift away from the wall as she chases the feeling, and Astarion has the audacity to laugh. “Patience, darling.”
“You laugh now, but we’ll see how you like it when you’re desperate for me to touch you.” Fallon quips. 
Astarion kisses her inner thigh and spreads her legs further apart. “Is that a threat, darling, or a promise?”
“Yes.” 
His laugh vibrates against her thigh as his mouth inches its way up her body. Once Astarion’s face is directly in front of her sex, his tongue lazily flicks across her clit, teasing her again and Fallon whines. 
“Astarion, please .” She begs through gritted teeth. 
Astarion looks up at her through his eyelashes, the grin on his face is near feral. “Good girl, Fallon.” He grabs her leg, throwing it over his shoulder, and he braces her hips against the wall. Fallon cries out loudly when she finally feels his practiced tongue against her clit, licking her with such precision that only someone with over two hundred years of cunniligus experience could achieve. 
His fingers replace his tongue on her clit and his tongue moves inside of her and Fallon and her hips arch away from the wall again, desperate to feel Astarion deeper inside of her. She wants more, more, more, and it doesn’t even occur to her that she’s begging him for more audibly until she feels his amused laughter vibrating through her body. She’s desperate for him, for his touch, and Astarion delivers, lavishing her sex with attention until her legs start to shake. Fallon aimlessly grasps at the wall, trying to find something to hold on to, and she ends up just clawing at the wallpaper instead.
“Astarion, I— I need— I’m going to— please .” She tries to find the words to tell him how close she is, but the way he’s devouring her is so delicious that her IQ is rapidly dropping. The vampire doesn’t need to be told twice, and his tongue returns to her clit, lapping at it hungrily and he slides two fingers inside of her. The man between her legs has barely pumped his fingers in and out of her three times before the simmering volcano that is Fallon erupts, and she comes loudly, moaning her lover’s name. She’s dizzy from it, and quite honestly it’s a miracle Fallon didn’t collapse on the floor from the way her body shook. 
When Astarion finally releases his hold on her, he sits back on his knees and looks up at Fallon proudly. His face shines with her slick, and he even has the audacity to lick his lips like Fallon is the best meal he’s ever had. It’s a gesture that has Fallon ready for him again in seconds. 
“You,” she pants. “Have far too many clothes on.” Fallon holds out her hand to Astarion, an offer to help him up, yes, but she also needs him near her again. She needs her body against his. She needs his skin against her skin. As soon as he’s on his feet, Fallon is tugging at the doublet he’s wearing, clumsily unfastening the buttons in her haste to remove the offending clothing from Astarion’s body. His mouth finds hers again and they work together to rid him of his clothes, and Fallon smirks against his lips when she hears him sigh with relief as his cock springs free of its confines. 
Immediately, Fallon wants to touch him— to feel the heavy weight of his cock in her hand, to make him writhe with pleasure in the way he’d done to her. She wants to taste his cock on her tongue as much as she needs to breathe. 
Astarion, it seems, has other plans. Fallon squeaks when she is hoisted into the air once more, wrapping her legs around Astarion’s middle and holding on tightly. She can feel his hard length just beneath her backside now and wonders how easy it would be to just…shift her body so she sank down on his cock naturally. 
When they stop again, it's in their bedroom. He stops right at the foot of the bed, and sets Fallon down once more. She reaches for his cock again, desperate to play, and Astarion tuts at her. “Not yet, darling. You’re going to come for me again first,” he instructs assertively. “Turn around.” Another jolt of electricity goes directly to her core as she does what she’s told and leans forward, bracing herself against the bed. Astarion fully invades her space once more, and she can feel the broad head of his cock teasing her entrance, and Fallon shudders with anticipation. “Astarion, please. Stop toying with me and fuck me. ” 
That’s all her lover needs to hear, and he doesn’t wait a moment longer before pressing himself inside of her. They moan in tandem as Astarion pushes himself inside of her. The way he fills her is like Astarion is the missing piece that goes in the very center of the puzzle that is Fallon, and she’s finally found it after thinking the piece was gone and giving up on the puzzle all together. Astarion grabs her hips to steady the both of them before he finally begins moving inside of her. Astarion is clearly also beyond the point of teasing, for once he begins moving it’s hard, quick, and for several minutes, the only sounds in the room are from their mutual pleasure. 
“You are…so fucking perfect.” He praises her, releasing one of her hips to reach forward and take a hold of her hair, using it as leverage to pull Fallon’s torso towards him. Her back is almost flush against his chest and the new angle Astarion is hitting inside of her makes sends a delicious shiver through Fallon’s body. He’s already dangerously close to pulling another orgasm from her, and she feels his teeth against the spot on her neck where it meets her shoulder, scraping her skin slightly, silently asking for permission. She nods her head furiously and whimpers, “Do it.” There’s no use in denying anymore that Astarion’s bite turns her on, not when she used to deny it to hide the fact that she was attracted to him at all. After all, he’s already buried deep inside her so that ship had said anyway. 
Astarion groans appreciatively, and within seconds of the sharp pain hitting Fallon as Astarion’s teeth break her skin, she shatters a second time. He fucks her through it, and the rhythm of his hips gradually slows and his hands move to cup her breasts, kneading them and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers while he enjoys her neck. To her surprise, Fallon does not have to tell Astarion when she’s ready for him to pull away, for he does so on his own, removing his cock from inside of her in the process. She turns around to look at her lover and she tilts her head curiously. 
“As delicious as you are, darling, I’m not done ruining you sexually yet. You being conscious whilst that occurs is extremely important.” He leans in to lick away the slow trickle of blood dripping down her neck, and Fallon smirks. 
“Good, because I’m not done ruining you sexually yet, either.” Fallon kisses him and slips her hand between their bodies and wraps her warm hand around his wet cock, stroking him slowly. Astarion’s hips stutter at her touch. “It’s not a competition, darling.” Astarion hums against her lips and Fallon shakes her head. 
“It is now,” She replies playfully, quickly kissing him one more time. Fallon lets go of his cock and steps away from Astarion. “Get on the bed. Please.” 
Astarion’s eyes flicker with lust and he smirks as he realizes she’s not actually taking control of the situation at all. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He croons and does as she requested.
Fallon wants Astarion to be in control, to make her wait or tell her no if she doesn’t ask for permission first. She wants him to tease her and tell her what to do and make her beg for it and praise her for doing as he says– because Fallon needs that as much as she wants to make sure Astarion always feels in control of his autonomy. If the day ever comes and he asks her to take control Fallon will happily oblige, but if that day never arrives she’ll also be perfectly satisfied. 
Fallon waits until Astarion is fully settled on the mattress and she takes a moment to truly look at him. His body is an absolute crime, every inch and angle more beautiful than the last and it’s entirely unfair. It’s also the first time Fallon gets a good look at Astarion’s cock. Fallon could have guessed, having already felt it in her hand and inside of her, but it’s as beautiful and perfect as the rest of him, and she wouldn’t be embarrassed to admit that her mouth waters when she sees it. 
Her eyes travel back up his body and the way he’s looking at her, with his arms folded and his hands resting under his head…it’s the hottest thing Fallon has ever seen. “Come here, darling.” Astarion beckons, and Fallon forces herself to take her time. To make a show of it. She crawls up the bed and settles herself on her knees at his waist. She leans forwards to press a sensual kiss to his lips and Astarion’s arms move out from under his head and he grabs her by the waist to pull Fallon into his lap. She lets him, but when the man beneath her tries to position her entrance above his cock, she shakes her head. “Not yet. I want to taste you first,” She tugs on his bottom lip with hers. “Can I do that for you? Please?” 
Astarion pauses and pulls back far enough to look at Fallon. There’s a surprised look on his face. “I– I can’t remember the last time someone did that for me,” Astarion stares at Fallon in stunned silence a moment longer, then kisses her deeply once and looks at her again. “I know this will sound very cliche considering you just asked to suck my cock but…I just need you to know how desperately and utterly in love with you I am.”
A wide smile blooms on Fallon’s face at the words. Hearing Astarion tell her that he loves her…it’s better and sweeter coming from his mouth than it’s ever been from anybody else, and her heart might burst. “Good, because I am desperately and utterly in love with you, too,” she confirms and kisses him again. “Now let me show you.” 
She kisses her way down his body from his neck to his hips, slowly, hoping that it properly conveys just how much she adores this man. When she comes face to face with his leaking cock, Fallon wraps a hand around the base and gives his shaft a tentative swipe with her tongue. Astarion twitches in her hand in response, and Fallon’s tongue runs over him again from base to tip, wrapping her mouth around him upon reaching his head. She can taste the now dry remnants of herself on his cock and a thrill goes through her body as she thinks about the way he was deep inside of her just minutes ago, and how he soon will be again. Fallon has no intention of letting Astarion climax in her mouth; not because it doesn’t appeal to her (it absolutely does), but because she wants, no, needs to feel him inside of her again before the night is over. 
Astarion stifles a moan as she moves her mouth along his cock and his hand finds its way into her hair again. His grip is deliciously tight, and when she feels him begin to tentatively begin controlling the movements of her head himself, Fallon moans with approval, fully returning control to him as he fucks her mouth. He’s hesitant at first, whether it’s because he’s afraid hurting her, he’s afraid of coming too soon, or something else entirely, Fallon doesn’t know, but once Astarion finds his confidence, he fucks her mouth in the same way he’d fucked her from behind: rough, hard, and Fallon is more than prepared when she feels Astarion push her head down, down, down onto his cock. Astarion moans and his hips stutter. “Fuu- Fallon , your mouth is incredible , darling. I wish you could see how good you look, choking on my cock, love.” 
He releases his hold on her head and Fallon’s mouth slides off his length as she gasps for air, replacing her mouth with her hand while she breathes. She’s ready to go back in, but Astarion grabs her forearm and pulls her back towards him. He kisses her feverishly, and flips Fallon onto her back so fast she barely has time to realize what’s happening before it’s done. Astarion quickly positions himself between her legs and, this time, there is no teasing, no pause after he fills her again. Just immediate, desperate thrusts as he fucks her. Astarion buries his face in her neck, and she feels the sting of his tongue as he licks the spot on her neck where he bit her earlier. She threads one hand through his white curls, and the other goes to his back, lovingly tracing the scars Astarion’s former master left on his body. Perhaps when they get to Asha, the coven may know of a way to rid Astarion of the damage. 
Their collective moans and the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room as they move together and she wraps her legs around his middle, pushing him deeper inside of her. Fallon can feel herself teetering close to the edge of her third orgasm of the night. “Astarion– I’m so close .” she  moans in warning. “I want– I want to go with you. Please .” 
Astarion nods and lifts his head from her neck and presses his forehead to hers. His hips are pistons now, and the rhythm is nigh on erratic. “Say it again, darling. Tell me you love me.” He whispers, and it’s like a prayer. 
“I love you, Astarion.” Fallon whispers back and lifts her mouth to kiss him passionately. Within seconds, Fallon stars burst in her vision and she feels herself clenching and pulsing around Astarion’s cock as she climaxes, with him close behind her. When Astarion finally lets go, it’s the most beautiful sound Fallon has ever heard; she didn’t think it was possible for someone to sound pretty when they came, but somehow Astarion manages it. She will forever be in awe of this man and hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him. 
The world comes back into focus and their bodies and minds slow down. Astarion does not remove himself from her immediately– for a moment they just lay there, exchanging slow, easy kisses while they catch their breath. When Astarion does finally pull out, it’s only to reposition himself on his side next to Fallon, pulling her close and wrapping their legs back together intimately. He reaches up to her face and brushes a few stray pieces of her hair out of the way. “You’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever known.” He confesses and kisses the tip of her nose. Fallon smiles at him dreamily, and before she can stop herself, she’s yawning. Astarion chuckles softly, rolling into his back and taking Fallon with him so her head is on his chest. Fallon traces lazy circles on his skin and looks up at him. “I really am sorry– about earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Astarion looks down at her with a blank stare on his face, like he can’t quite remember what exactly it is she’s apologizing for. When the recognition finally hits, he scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. “As you can see, it’s already forgotten, my love. I think we can call it even.” He takes her hand from his chest and kisses the palm of her hand, then her fingertips. “Not that I want to talk about the wizard right now, but I am deeply curious about what he had to say for himself.”
Fallon yawns again, wiggling her body to be as close to Astarion as possible, nevermind that there is no space of his left for her to invade. Her eyelids feel heavy, and she lets them close. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Promise.” She mumbles, as she presses a gentle kiss to his chest and she pulls her hand out of his so she can drape her arm across his chest. “I love you ‘starion.”
The last thing Fallon remembers before drifting off to sleep is the feeling of a kiss being pressed to the top of her head, and Astarion whispers, “I love you too, Fallon.”
Chapter List
32 notes · View notes
rhyewritersstudio · 3 years
Text
Maycury Week 2021!
Tumblr media
It's Brian's birthday, and that means it's time to get ready for Freddie's! We're going to be running Maycury Week here at the Studio this year, since @freddie-mercurial is feeling under the weather and has given her blessing. And as always, we're going to run it during Freddie's birthday week, Aug 30 - Sept 5!
Keep it about Freddie and Brian. That's it! Romantic or platonic, no limits on word count, paintings, graphics and poems are also amazing and nobody's going to complain if none of the prompts work for you. Just join us in celebrating Maycury!
We've gathered four prompts for each day: a dialogue prompt, an AU, a brief scenario, and one Queen song. You may use any of the prompts, all of them, or none of them if you are already inspired!
As in past years, there will be a collection on AO3 as well as a round up of Tumblr posts at the end. Please tag everything "#Maycury Week 2021" so we can find it.
Let's get started! (Am I excited? For my One True Ship? oh HECK YES! - Mod)
Monday August 30
"What do you mean you misplaced the Red Special?”
Pirate AU
Freddie wants to learn guitar. Brian tries to teach him.
It's Late
Tuesday August 31
"Ah, but darling, one can always be a trifle more daring.”
Space Exploration AU
5 times Brian dressed up for Freddie + 1 time Freddie dressed up for Brian
‘39
Wednesday September 1
"Love, did your suitcase just meow?"
Pilot & Flight Attendant AU
Accidental Baby Acquisition
It’s a Hard Life
Thursday September 2
"Where did you even purchase that?”
Hunter vs. Hunted AU
Brian is up in arms about some disturbance in their neighborhood ...again.
Innuendo
Friday September 3
"That’s IT, we’re calling the professionals.”
Monster AU
One or both are stranded in the woods after an accident with their transport
Good Company
Saturday September 4
"Darling, I don’t even want to move.”
Bakery AU
After being stood up by his date, one of them strikes up a conversation with the charming bartender.
My Fairy King
✨Sunday September 5✨
"You may seek in all the world, but no one will ever love you so much as the one who loves you now.”
Mythology AU
One of them wakes from a nightmare and reaches for their partner, only to find said partner isn’t there.
Dreamer's Ball
General rules: Everyone is welcome! But hate is not, so please: Don't Interact With Trolls. If you feed them they just come back for more! Stick to Freddie/Brian (or Freddie&Brian for platonic) as the primary ship, and let's make Freddie's 75th birthday a blast!
(Please bring any questions you may have to our ask box.  Thanks to @a-froger-epic for the banner, discord servers The Clog Factory and Queen and BoRhap Writer's Den for helping us with prompts, and @freddie-mercurial for starting this glorious tradition!)
62 notes · View notes
Note
Hey you've been quiet for awhile, everything okay?
So I had this huge thing typed up then Tumblr deleted it in typical Tumblr fashion. I’m gonna be posting a bit of a brief version of what the OG draft said under the cut.  I wanna be up front about this because I think it’s something that everyone in fandom spaces encounters at some point:
I am absolutely going to preface this by saying that I’m not upset at anyone and no one really caused this except me.  I have some issues I gotta work out so I’m doing my best to work them out.  
I’ve been a bit distant on all social media for two reasons.  I guess you could say I’ve been feeling a bit weird about Star Fox, though more specifically my own contributions to the fandom.  I’ve been feeling a bit disappointed in my SF-related works (fics, theories, headcanons-- although the fics have been the biggest thing lately) and a bit in myself as well.  I started to feel probably around January that my works were starting to get a bit... stale.  Like maybe I was being a bit redundant in my writing, maybe my headcanons weren’t as interesting as other people’s, etc.  I do write mostly for myself and for my own satisfaction-- don’t get me wrong, I didn’t come up with these headcanons and stories for the purposes of getting “attention” or anything like that.  I wrote them because I wanted to.  But I started... slipping into a bad mindset about it.  A toxic mindset.  I started comparing views/comments/likes on my stuff to other people’s works on sites like AO3 and FF.net. And there were times when I’d read these fics that had huge followings and I’d be upset.  And what’s stupid is I’d read them knowing I’d probably get upset because I’d read them and I’d feel like I’d put more effort into my stuff than this other random person put into their stuff.  Talk about yikes, right?
And I don’t like to think of myself as a bad person but what I was doing was very bad.  And very toxic.  And I realized it was turning me into a person that was irritable and judgmental.  
I also started getting worried that I was being too pushy with my ideas in fandom spaces.  I am aware that there are Discord servers out there that I’m not a part of that have talked about my theories and headcanons... and that level of “fame” (I mean is anyone in this fandom really famous LOL) had me worried that maybe people were taking everything I said and like... treating me like a Lore Authority, which I’m definitely not!  I may research stuff but tbh, I’ve gotten stuff wrong before-- it happens.  And that fear kind of made me think that maybe I was being pushy, in a sense.  When people talk about their headcanons regarding a character, sometimes I wanna talk about mine too because they inspire me... I felt like maybe I was being a bad listener.  And I was getting worried that people were looking at my headcanon posts and just assuming that because I’m passionate, I was trying to be that Lore Authority figure that I definitely am not.  I’m so scared of coming across that way because I don’t want to stifle other people’s creativity and make them think that if they’re “around me”, then they have to adopt a certain set of ideas for the series-- I’ve been around people like that, trust me, it’s awful.  That’s why I made that post ehhhh a month or so ago about it being okay if an idea doesn’t vibe with you.  I never want people to feel that they have to agree with me every time.  I like invoking conversation, not dominating it and I got scared I was dominating.
So overall, both of those things kinda left me feeling a bit bad regarding the fandom and I thought it would be best to pull away from social media for a bit.  I’m steadily getting over this funk I’ve been in.  I just need to figure myself out before I engaged with other people because I want to make sure I’m in a healthy mindset.  
So uh here’s the tl;dr for that segment -- I was worried I was being pushy and I was feeling inadequate and maybe boring and I was doing a bad thing by comparing myself to other people.  I feel like just about everyone who creates content goes through this in some way shape or form... so I just wanted to be candid about it.
The second reason I’ve been gone is less depressing and less of me being a dumbass.  I’ve been working on an original novel since mid-February.  The idea literally hit me at 3am one night and I started writing.  It’s... pretty much consumed most of my focus, I won’t lie.  If I write, it’s usually on this novel and I spend probably minimum 3hrs a day on it.  It’s sitting at 70k words atm with two chapters left before the first draft is concluded and editing begins.  And after that?  Probably will start looking for a literary agent!
I... can’t even verbalize how excited I am about this project.  I’ve had lots of characters I’ve created that I’ve felt very attached to but this particular cast feels like it has something special.  They’re near and dear to my heart and so is the story.  I’ve been enjoying the realization that every headcanon I make about these characters is canon because I’m the creator.  Oh the power.
Anyways, I do apologize for being gone but I figured it’d be better that I kind of go quiet than me being in such a bad mindset and engaging with people.  I think a break has been very good for me.  I certainly feel a bit more in-tuned with myself.  I’ll make a triumphant return when I feel like the time is right-- hopefully much wiser than I was before my break.
8 notes · View notes
auntarctica · 5 years
Text
An Open Letter from Your Spardacest Server Admins:
Today it was brought to both our attentions that there was a brief incident in the NSFW channel of the Spardacest discord server, wherein multiple server members were observed engaging in a conversation about the posted art of a non-member. Unfortunately, the dialogue took a detour from excited riffing/bantering and into unsolicited critical commentary about subject and anatomy.
While we did not observe them in the wild, we were subsequently sent screenshots of dialogue on Twitter from people were rightfully upset and concerned about the incident, the trajectory of the conversation, and tenor of the comments made by a handful of Spardacest members.
We created the server expressly because Spardacest shippers faced an unusual amount of vitriol, criticism, abuse and hostility in the open waters of fandom.
Denigrating or dogpiling any creator’s hard-wrought effort is anathema to the entire philosophy the server was minted under, which is one of all-embracing inclusivity.
We all vent and critique and quip and express our preferences. It’s part of bonding with friends, and an intractable part of human nature. However, unless critique is explicitly sought and invited by the originator, such conversations are best left in PMs/DMs. Dissections of third-party works—no matter how mild—are counterproductive and can really shatter the sleeve-worn heart of the hapless creator who stumbles across them—or in this case, other creators who come across it and assume, going forward, that this is the general culture of our collective.
We have over three hundred members, with greatly divergent ships, interests and dynamics, which makes for endless variety in personality interactions. With a server this big, missteps, clashes and misunderstandings are inevitable. We can only deal with these as they arise, but we promise that we are present and receptive to every conversation and our DMs are always open.
We recognize that no one intended to be malicious, even as we recognize that the conversation could easily be construed as cliquish and unfairly critical, particularly in discussing the art of someone outside the server, who neither sought nor was aware of the attention their piece was getting.
What we definitely do not want to be is the “mean girl” server of the fandom. There’s plenty of meanness to go around out there, particularly when it comes to Spardacest shippers. We owe it to ourselves to stick together, to buoy and insulate and inspire each other in a culture of love, excitement and kindness.
We apologize to the affected artist, as well as other artists who were hurt by this lapse in judgement, and we promise to pay special attention to this issue going forward.
Ultimately, we want you to know how much appreciate each and every member of our awesome niche and corner of fandom. We aren’t big, but we're rarified. Non multa, sed multum: that is, "not many, but much".
Love,
Aunt & Sub @subtextually
102 notes · View notes
marriael · 5 years
Text
1 Year Blogiversary
So. Hello people. Since 100 followers is still far away for me this was just me taking a chance to appreciate mutual, let me have this. 
All of these could be started with we've never talked/we haven't talked much so. Ehe. That one’s on me folks.
This is just a big, dumb, sappy post that I wouldn't recommend reading tbh.
Thank you to everyone who follows me, no matter for how long. It must get exhausting to see my dumb ass so often.
@wydyuto You were my first follower! When you first followed me it gave me so much confidence to keep going and making moodboards. Thank you so much! 
@igot7-penta-seo You've been dming me all these posts and I feel bad since I never send anything back. One day I will, I promise! It feels so long ago but I just remember reading all your pentagon stuff when I was getting into them and loving your writing and them even more. 
@mrchoiholic Alright since I’m dumb and don’t know when we became mutuals I’m putting you here. I remember my first interaction with you (technically) was I requested a Hoshi fic and then reblogged it because the title was incredible. Then I was Tea anon for a while, which was a good time. You’ve always given me caring older sister vibes even if you’re my ‘mom’. 
@cxvert-edits Oh my goodness hello! So I deleted my insta app. Since you’re mostly on there and I’m mostly on here we don’t really see each other much :(.It took me far too long to realize but I kind of sounded like an ass in our my last dm’s on here so. Very sorry about that, I didn’t really realize how my words sounded at the time. Honestly you were among my first inspirations for moodboards. 
@ladyluck852 Hey bub! I haven’t seen you around much but I hope you’re doing well. You’ve seen a lot of my blog and I hope you’re here for a lot longer. 
@mixtapejoon It seems like you started @/chulobangtan again so I think you’ll see this. I love reading all your stuff and since it seems like you enjoy writing so much I really hope you get the chance to again. With all the crap that went on with that guy and your school I hope you’re doing better now. 
@peachy-bangchan I feel like I don't talk to or about you enough which is an issue I must remedy immediately. I didn't know how popular you were when you followed me so I didn't properly lose my shit. You've really been here for a long time and never once have you stopped supporting me. Thank you, I appreciate that more than I could ever put into words.
@luvhannie Moodboard queen Anna! You’ve given me so much inspiration for moodboards. Motivation, too. I remember when you said you liked my moodboard, I felt amazing for like a week. 
@queerjunhui I just remember being so intimidated by you (still am lol) because you were friends with so many cool people. I think I sent you an anon once as Emotional anon? Maybe that was a dream or something. I started a conversation with you once and I’m pretty sure that was before we became mutuals, interesting. 
@middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich Your URL will always be a mood lol. A lot of your more recent stuff has been Monsta X and non-kpop related but you still follow all my weird bullshit.
@stray-kids-stuff My first official stay mutual! You’re such a darling and I’m glad I found your blog and that discord. I hope you’re doing at least a little better now. 
@han-jxsungs  I clowned myself as ao3 anon that was fun lmao. OMG I just looked and ROSE HELLO MY DARLING ANGEL. If you didn’t get my last ask, just now it was super sappy and gross. I’m glad you’re back but if it gets too much again, don’t hesitate to leave. 
@gryffindor925 lmao hey Aaykta what’s up. I don’t think you use tumblr because wow you must be tired of all this kpop shit. I forget you follow me most of the time. If you ever thought I was curbing my tags to seem less weird at some point it was because I see her in real life and thought that me freaking out about this stuff was super weird. I actually had a dream last night I found your secret kpop blog. 
@finn-shitposts I honestly didn’t connect this blog and your art one until after you were revealed because I’m dumb. You seriously made the most amazing thing. Pun + Jilix, gah that was seriously amazing, and when I think about it I smile. 
@pikachulein Even though I had several very popular blogs follow me before you were the first one I seriously like, panicked about. I have an official offer for you. Feel free to decline because time zones are crap but french learning buddies? 
@ult-bee So we met in a discord server but I feel like I left it? I honestly couldn’t tell you what server it was though. Sorry, boo. Love you though <3
@dreamsevens You made the cutest Junhao drawing ever. You were such a sweet lil anonnie, too. We haven’t really interacted but I see you, boo. 
@jihan You’re both such lil sweeties! Honestly just a wholesome jihan blog, would recommend. Loved being an anon even if it was just a little while. 
@nerdynerdynerdy Iyoniiiiiiiii! You’re just the sweetest lil babe and I feel like I need to protect you. 
@visualgiggles I don’t know how I didn’t see you before we were platonically shipped, but I didn’t. I’m really glad that happened though, and that I had my brief anon stint. 
@3rachad Clowned the hell out of myself and revealed as CB anon (who I still am because I’m cowardly and dumb). Love the new hair cut bb.
@0hyja Ya seem super cool but also. You called Park Jisung rat boy and I don't know if I can truly forgive you for that  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ jkjkjk. I just feel like you don’t like me. One day I’ll get over that and send some asks or something. 
@nanjaemin I always forget you’re younger than me because you talk exactly the same as the other people on here. You baby. Love you darling, don’t let those give you shit.
@ethereal-lix I so often go to send you ask games and then forget entirely. I will make a better effort to interact with you! 
@soulclub My first aroha mutual! I really like seeing all your edits and thank you for co-creating the idea of Aroha Village! I’m trying to write a kind of tour thing for it but it’s not great so. This is embarrassing but you and Bex kind of meld together. I don’t know what it is but the best reason I have is my terrible memory.
@cherry-seungmin My stay host(?)! Wow going to your blog is such an explosion of happiness and Seungmin I love that. It felt like ages ago we were freaking out about Miroh teasers but it was actually March.
@ultkyu You were my lil stay anon! I feel bad that I haven’t made anything for 99kdh. It might take me a little longer yet but I will do it.
@uwujpgs Heeeeeey Bex. I don’t really know what to say :(. Actually. This is embarrassing but sometimes you and Rae just meld together. I don’t know why and then when I get you mixed up I feel bad. But yeah. Stay safe and know I’m figuratively sending you nice candles.
@jinniesmeow I’ll be honest I thought you didn’t like me at first. It sounds dumb but after I joined skzrequests you didn’t follow me so I was just like ‘:} ok.’ I want to honestly apologize because I was kind of ignoring you in the kakao chat. I don't have a reason/excuse for that. An official question for you as well. Feel free to decline because time zones suck but be my unofficial french teacher?
@staytion-nine Pitchfork anon! I have no idea where the anon name came from. I was pretty surprised when I saw the post about you getting a tumblr. Overall you’re just a little dol and I hope to know you better.
@kimwoojin-s I thought I was going to cry when you followed me istg. I’ll talk in the TGS chat. One day, eventually. Take care of yourself and try not to burn out lovely.
@bbywooyoungie  We have interacted exactly 0 times (i’ll send an ask soon, promise). Scrolling down your blog I now notice we have mutual mutuals. I don’t understand how I didn’t see that before, but ok brain sure. 
@re-biirthday Anyone who organizes an anon event is automatically a sweetheart in my book, so there you are. I really liked that sketch you posted today and I hope you’re doing well sweets. 
@xiaocity I saw you in others ask boxes for a loooooooong time but only followed you recently for some reason. Yeah, you just seem super dope and I’m glad we have something in common. Even if it is finding our bias intimidating lol.
@luvjisungs I’ve only seen you around recently but you are an absolute darling. Thank you so much for helping me out that night, I really needed it.
54 notes · View notes
Text
The Creative Lounge v2.0
While we continue to prepare the community for a full launch, I'll post a little more about what's different in this version.
The Creative Lounge is a Discord community of creators and lovers of different genres, crafts, and talents that, together, foster a positive creative environment.
A good portion of this community is dedicated to content creators who work with different mediums. That's by design. We inspire one another and often collaborate. I hope The Lounge makes it easier to do both!
There's also room in here to play. I'm arranging the ability to stream art and video games in here, as well as host virtual tabletop games (these adventures are fantastic fodder for art, animation, stories, and audio works)!
Art and storytelling have been part of the human experience since our beginnings. They withstand disease, war, natural and unnatural catastrophes, and most impressively, time. Be proud of what you contribute.
There have been some changes to the community rules (beneath the cut). Please review them while you wait for The Creative Lounge to launch!
Tumblr media
Rule #1: Be Aware. This is a shared space. You must be at least 18 years old to join this server. Individuals from all places and all walks of life congregate here. The sharing of personal information (name, location, etc.) is discouraged. Don't share personal images of anyone under the age of 18.
Rule #2: Be Respectful. Any disputes between members ought to be resolved privately. Disruptive behavior is not tolerated! No racism, sexism, hate speech, trolling, abuse, spam, picking fights, harassment, etc. Direct and indirect threats towards any other person are strictly prohibited and will incur an instant ban. Avoid discussing sensitive topics (examples: religion, politics). Try to keep the conversation relevant to the channel you are in. This is a multi-fandom, multi-shipping community. Hate directed at fandoms, characters, or ships is not allowed. While age gap ships are welcome, teacher/student ships are not (if characters are portrayed as teacher and student in canon material, do not share fanworks of those ships here). Don't steal content, or ideas. Do not repost or share anything found here without the permission of that content's creator. When sharing content by others, they must be credited in your post. When sharing links to your content, ensure that it is thoroughly tagged in your post. Any NSFW content should be shared in the gated channels. No underage (less than 18 years old) or incestuous NSFW content (in ANY form, regardless of how brief it may be) is allowed in this server. Use tags and spoilers (if applicable) for “trigger warning” kind of content. Examples of warning tags: -Graphic depictions of violence -Character death -Rape/non-con/dub-con (A/B/O works are considered dub-con) Other things such as phobias, body horror, blood, etc, should also be tagged. If you would tag it on AO3 or a social media post, tag it here. If unsure, ask a mod for help!
Rule #3: Be Creative. This space was made so that content creators may meet and interact with each other and with fans of transformative works. It is encouraged (but not mandatory) to participate in Lounge events and challenges. Use this space to discuss your content and ideas, share tips, ask questions, etc.
Rule #4: Be Kind. This is meant to be a community. Remember to encourage and support one another. Visible support such as reblogging/retweeting, commenting, giving kudos, etc., ought to be considered part of being a Lounger. Do not simply use this server (or myself) as your marketing platform. Self-promotion is not only encouraged, but expected. However, when you promote your work, stick around to throw some support and encouragement at others.
20 notes · View notes
shipmistress9 · 5 years
Text
FTLOAP - 40: If I'm Not Made For You Then Why Does My Heart Tell Me That I Am?
Tumblr media
Fandom: HTTYD
Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.
Rating: Explicit
FF-net  -  AO3 -
Discord-server for discussions and questions
Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;
Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33
Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39
Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings
. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .
AN: This chapter... I'm incredibly curious about the reactions! It contains more scenes that have been planned for nearly a year, some were even already written out since November! And... well, I hope that I'm able to get across what's important for me in this chapter. I'll see...
Also, in November, I posted a small spoiler on Tumblr. I was asked to put a warning for when that spoiler would come into play, so that's what I'm going to do now. THIS is the chapter where that spoiler line comes up.
This week's title comes from the song If You're Not The One by Daniel Bedingfield. Ever since this song first came out, it's been one of my all-time-favourites. But it actually took me a while to discover how well it fits this story, especially at this point. I admit that, in the end, it even inspired an additional scene near the end of this chapter. You'll see what I mean.
. o O o .
“Eret? Do you want to marry me?”
After she’d realised what Snotlout was doing, Astrid had wondered about that insanity for a couple of days now. His behaviour had become more obvious – and more obnoxious – with every time they met, and by now, it was impossible for her to pretend it wasn't happening.
He was flirting with her. There really was no other way to describe it, and even though she'd always thought fondly of him, she now couldn't help but cringe whenever she saw him. A part of her wondered how other women before her had endured and even enjoyed his attention – but she also recognised how different his behaviour toward her was from how he'd acted toward others. He was so sure, overconfident even. He obviously knew about the King's wish of her marrying one of the ducal heirs and seemed to think that advertising himself like this would make her choose him.
But did he really want to marry her? She still couldn't believe it, couldn't even think about it without dismay. How could one of her brothers want to marry her? No matter how long she thought about it, it made no sense, and eventually she acknowledged that thinking on her own wouldn’t get her anywhere.
Meeting Eret had been pure chance but a welcome distraction. It was early in the morning, hours before today's tournament would begin, and she'd wanted to enjoy at least a small sense of freedom by taking a walk over the castle's grounds. Now, they sat near Lake Vola, with Tuff acting as chaperone from a distance, and enjoyed both the peace and the comfort. But she didn’t want to waste such an opportunity.
At her question, Eret, who was lying on a sunny but likely not-entirely-dry patch of grass next to the low stone wall where she sat, cracked one eye open and tilted his head to throw her a funny look.  After a moment, he returned to his former relaxed position though, eyes closed and head resting on his arms behind his head. “You know, Swanja… In your current position, you should be careful with a question like this,” he said, sounding utterly unperturbed. “One might think you just proposed to me.”
Astrid rolled her eyes and made a half-annoyed and half-amused noise. Eret would know better, after all. “Don’t be daft. You know what I mean.”
Sighing, he turned his head to look at her in earnest. “Yes, I know what you mean. But the answer is not as easy as the question.”
Astrid wanted to snort. She'd fully expected Eret would laugh and answer with a resolute ‘No!’. He had to be joking, right? Because it was insane and impossible and… and…
Except that he didn’t look as if he was joking.
He seemed to notice her bafflement, because he sighed once more and made himself comfortable again before he gave her an explanation. “I see that’s not the answer you’ve expected,” he began, strangely quiet. “And I’ll admit I didn’t expect to have this kind of talk today. But it’s better than not talking about it, I guess…” He paused, gazing into the light blue sky overhead as if it was the most interesting piece of art he’d ever seen. “I’m not in love with you, if that’s what you meant,” he eventually went on. “That hasn’t changed.”
Astrid nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. They’d already been through that three years ago, after all. After Thuggory’s constant teasing over the span of one summer about how close they were and what a cute couple they would make, they’d almost believed it themselves. What followed had been a few awkward days of blushing, of averting eyes and stiff conversations – until they’d decided to put their feelings to the test. They’d kissed, the whole program with gazing into each other’s eyes and cradled faces, with lips and tongues. And then, they had decided that was definitely not what was between them.
Thinking back, the thought made her smirk inwardly. Kissing Eret had felt weird, unnatural. Not really unpleasant, if she was honest; just… not right. And now, comparing that kiss back then with how it had felt to kiss–
Stop right there!
“So, you don’t want to marry me?” she asked, mainly to force her thoughts into another direction. She couldn’t think about that, not now. Not ever again.
“I… didn’t say that,” Eret muttered, still refusing to look at her.
He wasn’t making any sense. “What do you want then?” The question came out more aggressive than intended, but Astrid wasn’t in the mood for beating around the bush, not now, not after everything. She was tired, having cried for almost the entire night again, tired of the games, tired of the verbal dancing and indirect responses. By Thor, she was going to get a straight answer out of someone, even if she had to shake it out of them!
“What I want...” Eret scoffed. “Since when does it matter what anyone of us wants?” He sighed again, shaking his head, and Astrid knew all too well how he felt… “If it were about doing what we want, Dagur and I would just… leave. We’d go, and start a simple life somewhere far away.” Now, Eret threw her a wary glance, as if to see how she would react. But even though the words surprised her, Astrid was beyond showing any reactions, especially not emotionally, and after a minute of silence, Eret continued in a softer tone.
“We’ve even talked it through, you know? What we’d do if we had the options… We’d go somewhere remote where people wouldn’t know who we are. We’d approach the local lord, get a land tenancy, settle down. Build a paddock for a couple of horses and a garden, maybe an orchard. I’d earn us some money by breeding and breaking in horses for the locals, and Dagur would distil his own alcohol from the fruits in our garden.” He chuckled weakly. “It would be a simple life, without much luxury to speak of. Calm.”
Astrid swallowed. “That sounds beautiful,” she whispered. Eret's words reminded her of other plans, other ‘what if's’…
Quickly, she again shook those thoughts off and concentrated on Eret and his words again. On how they puzzled her. She’d always thought Eret and Dagur wouldn’t mind becoming the next Grand Dukes.
“Right?” Eret agreed, but then shook his head. “But it’s nothing but idle dreams. We can’t just drop our responsibilities and leave our homelands in such a chaos. We wouldn’t want to do that. Lavo would become Head of House Jag’r, and while he’s a good man, he’s certainly not a good leader. And House Berserker… If Dagur doesn’t inherit his father’s title, Hel herself will show up down in Southshore to collect the bodies.”
Again, Astrid nodded; the precarious situation with the two Grand Dukedoms was well-known to her, after all.
Eret let out a deep breath. “But that’s not what you wanted to hear right?” He slightly shook his head, lips twisted into a grimace. “The thing is… we eventually have to marry one day. If we stayed bachelors forever, we could simply continue like now, spending time together every now and then. But for the sake of sustaining a line of heritage, we can’t inherit if we refuse to ever marry. And once we’re married…” He shrugged, and Astrid remembered the words she’d heard some nights before.
Marriage is a sacred vow, and one does not break it. I won’t turn you into an adulteress.
Astrid felt as if she couldn’t breathe, the memories like a crushing ring around her chest. But luckily, Eret didn’t seem to notice.
“You asked whether I’d even want to marry you,” he went on, suddenly sounding eerily solemn. “And the honest answer would have to be yes. Yes, I’d like to marry you. Not because I love you, and I’m sorry about that. But marrying for love has never been a real option for us, so I’d opt for the second-best choice – marrying my best friend.” He turned to give her a brief smile, but then continued to stare into the distance. “You’re my best option for a good future. I mean… I know that I won’t be the best of husbands. But unlike any other wife Father could pick for me, you at least already know that. You know that I won’t be your ardent lover. You wouldn’t be disappointed or angry. Or at least I hope you wouldn’t be.” He swallowed, and when he continued to speak, finally looking at her after all, he sounded incredibly vulnerable.
“If you were to choose me, Swanja, then I can promise you that I’d be a good and loyal partner to you. We’d live a happy life together. I won’t be your lover, but I'd be your partner, your friend. I’d do my best to hopefully be a good father to our children, and I’m certain I’d treat you better than most of your other suitors. And... and the same goes for Dagur, if you were to choose him.”
It seemed like Eret was waiting for a reaction, but Astrid was unable to speak, stunned. He was serious!
Eventually, he exhaled a deep breath, and pushed himself up on his legs. With his back turned toward her, he said, “I do love you, Swanja, just not like that. And I want you to be happy. If… if you have someone else in mind, someone you want to choose for yourself... then by all means, please do so. Neither Dagur nor I want you to be miserable for our sake. We will all go our way, one way or the other. But know that we are an option, and hopefully not the worst there is. I’d be happy and proud to bring you back to Eastervale as my wife, and I dare say that living at our stud farm would suit you.”
And with these words, he left her.
For she couldn’t say how long, Astrid sat on that low wall, eyes unseeingly cast over the lake's calm surface, as tears ran down her cheeks in never-ending streams. Gods, she was such an idiot, had only thought of her own problems.
But Eret was right… For all her life, she’d been prepared for a loveless political marriage. And yes, if she couldn’t marry the man she loved…
...then her best friend would certainly be a good second choice.
. o O o .
For once, she didn't need to ponder endlessly. In fact, it was more as if she’d known what to do for a long while already without being able to see it. But when she reached the fighting ground a couple of hours later and saw him hustling about among the other squires and, as always, not even once glancing in her direction… it all became crystal clear. He wasn't an option anymore – and maybe never had been. She would have to pick another path, one that, hopefully, would be bearable.
She paused in her steps, pondering for one last moment, and then gestured Tuff to follow her. Instead of directly going toward her usual seat under the pavilion, she headed for the large tent where the men were getting ready for their fights. Many eyes turned toward her when she entered, confusion and anticipation in most of them, and the tent fell completely silent.
"Sir Eret?" she called out as firmly and clearly as she could manage. "May I asked you to keep me company today?"
Eret met her eyes with an unreadable look, but nodded after a seemingly endless heartbeat. “Of course, your Highness.” He took off his heavy gloves and handed them, his helmet, and his sword to his squier before following her. And not even now, he would look at her.
Astrid’s lips twitched, but she quickly turned away, and, with Eret at her side, made her way toward her pavilion.
At first, they sat in heavy silence, but eventually, Eret audibly cleared his throat. “Are you sure about this, Swanja?” he asked in a subdued voice.
He didn’t need to elaborate; the meaning of his words was clear enough to her. Her inviting one or more of her suitors to sit with her during the tournament when they weren’t fighting was something she was allowed to do. Without a doubt, it was considered an honour, but the fact that she had never bestowed it on anyone before made her singling out Eret now even more noticeable. She could practically feel the countless eyes on them, could hear the hushed whispers all around the arena. But she didn’t care for any gossip her action might start. She’d never cared about the rumours they’d caused by acting like a couple. At least this time the rumours would be true.
She swallowed, and, unable to meet Eret’s eyes, instead gazed down at her hands in her lap. “You were right,” she whispered. “Marrying for love has never been a real option for either of us. So I’m going to pick the option with the best prospect of happiness and follow the path everyone apparently wants me to take anyway.” Now, she looked up after all and threw him a tentative smile. At least, she wouldn’t have to pretend with Eret. They weren’t in love and never would be. But they would give each other comfort and that had to be enough.
He returned her smile and, as if to prove her thoughts right, reached for her gloved hand and squeezed it. It made her smile turn a shade brighter. Yes, they didn’t love each other. But friendship was a good basis for marriage too, right?.
They watched the first rounds of the melee without saying anything more. Five times, ten men entered the arena and fought until nine had either been knocked prone, unconscious, or had a wound sufficient to spatter the grass with blood. Snot’s turn was in the second round, and he won without any difficulties, sending his opponents sprawling or bashing their faces in so that their noses bled freely onto the grass. There was something to his boasting after all, Astrid reminded herself as he blew her a kiss across the arena before he left it. Growing up in Westhill had turned him into a better fighter than most.
Then it was Eret’s and Dagur’s turn to fight, and it wasn’t until she saw the other eight fighters all ganging up on them that she realised what her open act of favouring Eret had done. Now he had a target on his back, and more than once she gasped or froze when one fighter launched at him. People died in these tournaments! What if someone managed to injure, maybe even kill him, just to get him out of the way? It would be her fault, and hers alone.
She watched the fight with more attention than she had before – and also with a fair bit of anxiety. But her worries were unfounded... for now at least. With Dagur and Eret fighting back to back, the other men had no chance and when it was only the two of them left, they shared a look, a handshake, and then Dagur went to his knee, placing his weapon to Eret’s feet.
The sight made her throat tighten even further. To everyone else watching, it would look like Dagur forfeiting to the Princess’s favourite, probably in hopes of gaining her good will for the future. But Astrid knew it was more than that. So much more… It wasn’t just Dagur giving the victory of this melee to his friend. It was him freely giving up his lover, giving in to the inevitable without struggling and without hard feelings. He knew that he’d lost, and what he’d lost, on the altar of the Kingdom’s Hel-spawned politics. If Astrid would have had any tears left, she’d have cried.
When Eret returned to her after being cleaned up and his armour having been removed, he seemed weaker and more beaten than the fight alone would explain. This time, it was she who placed her hand on his lower arm, in an attempt to comfort him but also to apologise. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled weakly.
She was relieved when Eret placed his hand over hers and asked, “For what?”
“For everything. For making you a target and… and for…” She didn’t dare to phrase the rest, to mention Dagur. Her pavilion offered a certain amount of privacy so that she didn’t expect anyone to overhear their low conversation, but that wasn’t the point anyway. She didn’t want to hurt Eret further.
He hissed out a low and unamused laugh, almost a pained groan, but gave her a reassuring smile nonetheless. “Don’t worry,” he replied. “We always knew it couldn’t last. And as for the target… You don’t need to worry about that either. It’s not that much different than before. They always knew me, Dag, and Snot where your most likely choices, so not that much changed now. Besides, as much as they want to see me defeated… well, let’s just say that my status still offers a certain amount of protection. They wouldn’t dare to attack one of us for real, simply out of fear of repercussions.”
Astrid nodded, but only felt slightly eased by his words. There had been too many accidents already. “I hope you’re right,” she sighed. “And… and I hope this wasn’t the wrong decision – for both our sakes.”
He squeezed her hand once more and scooted a little closer to her. It was weird in a way how easy it was to just continue their usual comfortable closeness under these strangest of circumstances. But then, that was part of why she’d made this decision. She knew Eret, knew that they got along. There’d never been any real shyness or awkwardness between them, and she was relieved that that hadn’t changed.
“We’ll see,” he eventually replied. “But at least we know that Daniel will be pleased.”
There was a certain bitterness in Eret’s voice at these words, one that made her frown in confusion. “What makes you think that?” So far, she hadn’t spent much time thinking about Daniel, not beyond the burning pain she felt over his betrayal.
Eret snorted, and made a vague waving gesture between the two of them. “Well, this is what he wanted, what he’d planned for all along.”
“He… what?”
Now, Eret grimaced, but also noticeably put in an effort to stay calm as he explained. “Oh, he didn’t tell me anything, in case you were wondering,” he scoffed with the same bitter tone as before. “But after that announcement on your birthday and realising that he knew about all this… it started to make sense, you know? A while ago, he became strangely gloomy from one day to the other, and there were so many things he said before he left, things that made me wonder what was on his mind. It all started a few days after Dagur’s accolade. The day we first went to meet Cami, remember?”
Astrid sucked in a breath at those words, but instantly shut her mind down. No, no, no. She didn’t want to remember that day, couldn’t bear it. The first night they’d talk more openly, the first time he’d touched her…
Her hands were trembling, but if Eret noticed, he didn’t react. He just went on with his explanation, suppressed anger tinting his voice, and she was grateful for the distraction.
“Daniel was supposed to come with us, but was forced to cancel his appointment when he received a note. I don’t know what it was about, but it was then when he changed. Late that night, we met him in the corridors. He wouldn’t tell us what bothered him, only that we would learn about it soon enough, that it was better if we didn’t know right away… and that he ‘very much counts on my loyalty for all this to end well’. I didn’t know what he meant back then, but now… And there were other comments, too. Like how he asked me to keep an eye on you until he comes back from Westhill. Or how he blatantly asked us whether we could imagine getting married anytime soon when we all went to the tavern that last night.” He swallowed thickly. “All those small things came back to me lately, but they only started to make sense when… when I talked to Hiccup the other day. Apparently, Daniel told him that he was hoping for us to marry. That we would be good for each other.”
At the mention of his name, Astrid’s mind turned numb out of sheer reflex, but there was still a small functioning part that registered what Eret was telling her. That Daniel apparently hadn’t been happy about this plan and that he’d hoped for her to find comfort and solace with Eret, her best friend. A sob tore itself from her body, making her shiver and tremble, and this time, Eret noticed. His hand around hers tightened, offering her comfort from amidst his own pain and sending a wave of gratitude through her hurting soul.
They didn’t speak much more until the tournament was over, but the companionable silence was proof enough to her. Living with Eret would be effortless. It would be good. Not what either of them truly wanted but better than the alternatives
Daniel had been right, she realised with a grimace. She and Eret were good for each other, the best option they had to ever live a somewhat happy life. Even with how betrayed she felt, she still couldn’t shake off a budding sense of gratefulness that her brother had at least planned this far. And he couldn’t have known better, after all. Daniel didn’t know about the feelings Eret and Dagur had for each other, didn’t know about her and… and… him. He didn’t know how much pain this solution brought to so many people he cared about. But he was right in that it still was the best solution they had.
When the tournament was over, she accompanied Eret back to the tent. She’d meant to directly move on to her own rooms, to get ready for tonight’s dinner. She expected it to be an awkward meal, with the older man congratulating them and the younger all suffering. Idly, she wondered how Snot would behave now, but quickly decided that she didn’t care.
Especially not when someone else stepped into their path all of a sudden.
Nervously biting her lip, she met Dagur’s gaze, expecting to see hurt and pain or maybe anger in his eyes. He, too, had been hurt by this development after all. But he, who always wore his heart on his sleeve, now wouldn’t let his feelings show. He made a hesitant step toward her, even had a small smile on his face, and pulled her into one of his usual bear hugs once Eret had let go of her arm.
Overwhelmed, she clutched at his back, and couldn’t keep herself from sobbing into his tunic. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered against his shoulder. “So, so, sorr–”
“Shh, shh, it’s all right, little sis,” he interrupted her in an equally low voice. “I wasn’t expecting anything else. And I won’t embarrass either of us by asking you to make him happy, but… But I’m asking you to both be happy, okay? As happy as you can be.”
She sobbed again and for a heartbeat clung even tighter to him before they let go of each other. She took a step away when Dagur turned to Eret next, giving them a bit of privacy, when she noticed another figure standing a few steps behind Dagur.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t move. He only looked at her with those incredibly green eyes of his, really looked at her for the first time in days. It made her freeze, with only a fleeting thought about how Dagur and Eret hopefully would be too occupied with each other to pay them any attention. She held his gaze and tried to convey what she felt. Not her pain, but an apology. The apology for, finally and ultimately, betraying their bond and turning down every plan they might have had. She expected to receive some form of pained accusation in return, but none of that happened.
Instead, he just stood there, a weak smile around his lips that wouldn’t reach his eyes, and nodded.
. o O o .
That night, Astrid stayed awake for a long time, but in opposition to past nights, she didn’t cry. She felt too empty for that. Her eyes were fixed on the wooden figurine in her hands, the one that resembled Markor and that he had given her.
“It’s not much, I suppose. But it’s something… personal? Something to remember me by when I can’t be here with you anymore.”
His words rang clear and true through her mind, but for once the pain didn’t hit her as hard as she’d expected. ‘...when I can’t be here with you anymore...’ He’d only meant the months of separation, but now, it felt so much more relevant. Without her help, her hand wandered to her chest, the other caressing over the smooth wood. No matter how much she wished it would be otherwise, she could still feel his warmth in her chest; even though the blazing inferno had simmered down like a glowing coal. A reminder of the former fire that would never extinguish.
“I will always love you, Hiccup,” she whispered into the darkness of the night. It was a last confession before she stowed the wooden figurine away into her treasure coffer. “Goodbye, my love.”
Then she went to bed, determined to move on. From now on, she wouldn’t let herself be in pain all the time anymore. Her mind and soul were so frail and thin by now; more pain would eventually break her apart. So she clung to the only solace left to her. She would be Eret’s bride now, and… and it was good that way. The only path she could take.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep – even as the small part deep inside her was still screaming. And she couldn’t make it stop.
. o O o .
Hiccup hadn’t expected for the pain to be this unrelenting. He’d expected that it would take time, time before he could even consider getting over her. He had expected that seeing her at Eret’s side, her arm wound through his and their obvious closeness, wouldn’t exactly help either. But the reality was so much worse. No matter how many days had passed or how often he’d seen them together since her open preference during that tournament, it was still like sharp pokes to an open wound. Over and over he told himself that it was good, that it was better this way, the best he could hope for for her. And it was! He knew that it was the truth. In Eret’s presence, she was less tense, at least a little more at ease.
But it hurt!
Because he remembered the time, not too long ago, when all he’d wanted was to be the one to make her happy one day, and the constant reminder of how that would never happen felt like getting stabbed over and over and over again.
Every time he felt her presence or spotted her amidst the crowd, all he wanted was to tear out his heart in the hopes that it would make the pain go away. There was a voice in his head that was constantly screaming at him, “Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is wrong, all of it!”, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t smother it. It was tearing him apart.
The worst were the nights. When he was laid out on the couch in Eret’s rooms, so close to where she was, under the same roof and on the same floor even, and yet unable to ever be with her again, he felt the full weight of their loss. It pressed down on his chest like someone sitting there and keeping him from breathing. More than once, he’d caught himself idly playing with her key, which he still wore around his neck on a simple leather cord. He’d thought about taking it off multiple times already but he’d never found the strength to actually do so. He knew that he should, that holding on to it was only his weakness of not being able to fully let her go. It was him clinging to some elusive hope that only kept cutting and hurting him over and over again. Occasionally, he even caught himself getting up, a half-baked plan to sneak through the corridors and into her rooms in his sleepy mind. If only he could see her, talk to her, hold her one more time. Odin, he would do everything if only it meant they would get another chance.
But there was nothing for him to do.
All he could do was watching her attend one event after the other, with Eret always at her side, and remind himself that this was the only way for her to be happy.
. o O o .
“Ah, good evening, Sir Eret,” Fyrir Mala greeted them as they entered Freya’s Temple a few days later. “Sir Dagur, Lord Hiccup. Welcome. You can go right through to Cami’s rooms; she’s already waiting for you.” She nodded at them all with a friendly smile which they all returned dutifully – even as neither of them truly felt like smiling.
More than anything else, Hiccup felt weird to be here again, even though he probably should have seen it coming. Eret’s and Dagur’s days were numbered, so it wasn't really a surprise that they'd wanted to ‘visit Cami’ as long as they could. And of course, they’d invited him to come along too, just like they’d always done. They didn’t know about his own pain after all.
But right now he dreaded the thought of Cami and interacting with her, of the conversations that would inevitably come up. Of how unexpected it was that they were all still here after all, of the latest developments in Eret's life… and her usual questions after his lady love once Eret and Dagur retreated. Because he didn't feel strong enough to lie, to make up some tale about how they enjoyed the reprieve, no, certainly not. Instead, he felt brittle, as if he'd break apart and crumble at even the slightest nudge. He’d even welcome that over the constant pain.
But of course, he wouldn’t simply fall apart and stop existing. There was no way to escape the inevitable.
“Oh, dear Freya!” Cami exclaimed as soon as they entered her rooms and the door closed behind them. She threw herself around Eret’s and Dagur’s necks, pulling them into a tight hug. “I’ve heard what happened, of course I have. And… I know everyone else would deem congratulations in order–” she pulled Eret a little tighter “–but I’m so sorry! For both of you. How are you feeling?”
Carefully but firmly, Dagur and Eret pried themselves out of her arms. They looked miserable and Hiccup was once more reminded of how he wasn’t the only one in pain. As much as he might want to hate Eret for having everything Hiccup wanted – he just couldn’t. Eret was as much a victim of this entire scheme as he and she were, and he was suffering from it too.
“What do you think how we feel?” Dagur asked, noticeably missing his usual joyfulness. “Even with always knowing that it would eventually come to this, it’s…” he broke off, and turned away from them, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
Hiccup almost expected he’d turn away further when Eret stepped toward him to place his hand on his lover’s shoulder. But instead, Dagur sighed, relaxed, and leaned into the touch, and Hiccup couldn’t help but look away at their moment of intimacy. Yes, they were both suffering just like him.
“I’m sorry,” Cami said again, sounding truly miserable, but Eret cut her off directly.
“It’s all right. Dag’s right, we knew it couldn’t last. All we can do now is make the best of it.”
“I sure hope you do,” Dagur threw back, an odd mixture of sadness, joking, and sincerity in his voice. “If I hear only one complaint from Swanja about you, I’m going to come and rip off your head!”
Eret chuckled, if a little strained. “Hey, I already tried to do her a favour by convincing her father to arrange that ride tomorrow. I mean, it can’t be long with the ball in the evening, and it won’t be a fast ride either with her having to use this horrible side saddle and at least some members of the party not being experienced riders. But I still think it’s better than nothing. Or I hope so, at least.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m holding you on to that promise, just so you know. Making sure she’s happy will be my highest priority from now on.”
Eret’s reply made them share a weak but true smile, and even with how numb and hollow Hiccup felt, he still was grateful for the reminder that they did care about her. She was in good hands. That was all that mattered.
“Anyway,” Eret went on. “Before we leave you alone, I wanted to thank you, Cami. For taking our request for an appointment on such a short notice. It’ll probably be the last time anyway.”
She gave him a comforting smile. “Of course. I’ll always have time for you.” Then she frowned. “But why do you think it’ll be the last? It’s still over six weeks until the wedding.”
“Aye.” Eret shrugged. “But the betrothal will become official in two weeks already, and me coming here after that won’t be regarded with any form of leniency. And then there’s the ball tomorrow night. Even with it just being meant as an entertaining diversion, her choice of partner for the opening dance will still be regarded as her making an unofficial choice.” He shook his head, a despondent expression on his face. “No, this will be the last time we come here. It has to be.”
Again, Hiccup had to avert his gaze – to give them privacy when it now was Dagur’s turn to comfort Eret, but mostly to hide his reaction to Eret’s words. He’d effectively pushed aside every thought of this, but he was right. After tomorrow night, she would be considered betrothed to Eret, no matter how unofficially. The thought gave him a new sting, and he almost laughed in surprise at how his heart could still hurt more.
“I see,” Cami sighed. “Well, then off with you two. If you want, we can talk more later. I hope you can enjoy this night as much as possible.”
They didn’t need another invitation and only seconds later, Hiccup was alone with Cami. And no matter how painful the previous conversation had already been… What came next would be worse.
“So, and what’s up with you?” she asked in a noticeably more cheerful tone. “I get why they are so depressed, but I honestly didn’t expect that from you too, not even out of sympathy.”
With his lips pressed into a thin line, Hiccup ignored her words and walked past her to where wine and glasses were already standing ready for them on the small table. He poured himself a glass and downed it in one. Maybe the alcohol would make enduring this easier. Behind him, Cami said his name, clearly confused, but he kept ignoring her. It was only after he’d nearly emptied his second glass of wine before she more firmly demanded an answer.
“Hiccup, what’s up with you?” Her hand was on his arm, keeping him from turning away as she stepped in front of him. “After our last conversation about how much you and your lady love dreaded the separation, I thought you’d be happy about this postponement.”
Snorting, he turned his head away from her anyway. Right… Oh, how much they’d hope for just any way for them to not have to part. Once again he thought about how the prospect of being separated for weeks and months had felt like the worst that could happen to them. How foolish and naive they’d been. And how much he’d give to return to those times…
“Hiccup?”
This time, Cami sounded worried, and almost despite his own will, he turned to look at her. And even though he’d sworn to himself to lock his pain deep inside him, to never let anyone see… right now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Hiccup, what happened?” she gasped when his mask crumbled away to reveal his pain. She pulled at his arm until he sat down in one of her chairs. “You look… horrible. Gods, did something happen to her? Is she alright? What–”
“She’s fine,” he mumbled, if only to keep her from worrying further. And it was true, wasn’t it? Physically, she was fine...
For a short while, Cami was quiet, watching him closely. “What is it then?” she eventually asked, softly. “You seemed so sure, but… Did you two break up?”
Again, he snorted. “In a way,” he mumbled, remembering the conversations they’d had, at the stables on her birthday and at the armoury on the day after. They had broken up, even as that phrase sounded too weak to describe what happened. Once more, pain flooded his mind and body, and he reached again for the wine, refilling his glass and taking a big gulp. Why couldn’t he turn numb already?
“Why?” Cami probed, and no matter how gentle that one word had been, it still felt like a sting, as if it had torn a hole into his thin layer of protection. From one heartbeat to the other, he wasn’t able to hold back any longer.
“Because she’ll marry someone else!” he burst out, eyes stinging. “Not by choice, but what does that matter? In six weeks, she’ll get married to Eret, and there’s nothing we can do. I lost her.”
There, he’d said it. And now, the desired numbness sat in with full force. He slumped down in his chair, too weak to even hold his head up anymore. For the first time in almost two weeks, tears were welling up in his eyes and he didn’t even try to hold them back. It didn't matter. He’d lost her, forever, and now nothing mattered anymore.
He wasn’t sure how long it took Cami to react again. He was dimly aware of her staring at him with wide eyes and her jaw dropped, but he just didn’t care...
“The Princess,” she eventually whispered, and a tiny sarcastic part of his mind wanted to applaud her. After so many weeks of her trying to pry for any information about his lady love, she now knew. So what? It wasn’t as if things could get worse. “You… are you trying to tell me that this girl you talked about, the one you spent nearly every night with, and who I encouraged you to introduce to sex was the Princess?”
All Hiccup could do was nod weakly, but it seemed to be enough for Cami.
“Are you insane?” she nearly shrieked. “The Princess? H-how… how did that even happen? And what were you thinking? You said you were certain to marry her one day, but… But she’s the Princess, for fuck’s sake. Everyone knew that she would marry for an alliance one day, even she. What in Loki’s name made you believe you could circumvent that?”
Hiccup groaned. Every single one of her words felt like another blow to his battered soul. Yes, they really had been stupid to hope and to dream, hadn’t they? But it had all felt so real…
For a few minutes, Cami went on with her tirade, scolding him, but after a while, it stopped affecting him. He couldn’t take any more, and he also understood that by now, this was more Cami venting out her shock than anything else. Eventually, she stopped, and a heavy silence covered them like a blanket.
“We thought it would work,” he eventually murmured into the silence. “We were so sure… Because… because it had to work…” He could feel that Cami didn’t understand though. And how could she? If he listened to himself now, it barely made any sense to him either. Except… “She and I… we share a bond, one that I can still feel even now when all hope is lost. And we thought… If the Gods bound us like that, doesn’t that mean that we will be together? That it’s our inevitable fate? Isn’t that part of what being soulmates means?” He shook his head, the hopelessness of everything once more crashing down on him.
“Oh, Hiccup…” Cami reached out her hand, hesitated visibly, but then placed it onto his arm after all. “I… I don’t doubt that you thought you’d be soulmates. There are many young couples so madly in love that they feel like that. But… but true soulbonds are rare. So rare that I haven’t even heard of a true one happening in the last thirty years or so. I’m sorry, but… but that wasn’t real.”
Hiccup groaned. He’d known that this would be the most likely reaction to them ever telling anyone. But it still stung to hear her say it. She was wrong, though, he knew that deep in his heart. What he and she shared, that was real. Wasn’t it? “I don’t believe you,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry, Hiccup. But… Let’s think this through. If yours was a true soulbond… then you would have been right. Nothing on Midgard can keep apart what the Gods forged together – not even a King’s decision. So how can you be soulmates when, as you all pointed out, she will marry Eret instead? Her decision falls tomorrow at the ball. Not officially, but binding enough. What made you even believe your bond would be true?”
Almost against his will, his hand wandered to his chest. He could still feel her heartbeat and that spark of her soul deep within him. How could that not be real? But he couldn’t make Cami feel what he felt, so he had to try and put it into words. “I… just know it’s true,” he explained in a whisper. “I can feel her, even now. Right here. And… and I felt her before, too. You remember how she got attacked shortly before Midwinter? I was miles away from her then, asleep at the outer stables. But I still felt her anxiety – her fear and her pain – strong enough to wake me up. There is a bond between us, a connection,” he insisted. Cami still didn’t look convinced though, so he tried to think of what else to tell her. “And we had visions! Well, one vision, but it was the same for both of us. We saw the same thing: our future together in a small house, me coming home after a journey, and she and our son greeting me at the door. That was real!”
In what was probably meant as a comforting gesture, Cami squeezed his arm. “I don’t doubt that you believe that,” she repeated her words from earlier, sighing. “But that doesn’t change the facts, Hiccup. She will marry Eret, as it had always been meant to be. Your bond can’t be real.”
. o O o .
Until deep into the night – with Eret and Dagur still not having returned from the temple – Hiccup kept pondering over Cami’s words.
They made no sense.
He knew, without a doubt, that their bond was real. Vividly, he remembered how her fears had reached him even though he’d had no idea that something had been wrong. He hadn’t made that up. And it was the same with their vision. They both had seen the same future without even knowing each other. That hadn’t been a coincidence. It can’t have been!
No, their bond was real. The longer he thought about it now, staring at the decorated ceiling above him, the clearer it became to him. It wasn’t just a fluke or a pipe dream. It couldn’t be.
But if Cami was right and nothing could ever overcome a true soulbond, what did that mean in return? Did that mean that… that there was still hope after all?
The mere idea made Hiccup’s heart stutter painfully. Had he given up too soon? Should he have fought for her after all? But how? If only he knew what to do. He’d do everything for her, whatever it would take.
The facts remained the same though. He couldn’t think of a solution, no chance, no way for them to be together. And he was running out of time. If there was something he could do then what was it?
So what if Cami had been right after all and he was chasing nothing but a dream. Was it possible that they’d interpreted too much into their feelings? Or maybe it was something else entirely, something he’d thought about before and that Cami hadn’t mentioned. Not even a King’s decision could overrule the Gods’ will, she’d said. But what if the Gods changed their mind? Was it possible that them getting intimate had angered them enough to part them again?
Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. All this pondering wasn’t doing him any good. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about uncountable options already. But he couldn’t think of a way out and he wasn’t optimistic about getting an epiphany anytime soon either. And it would have to come soon, before tomorrow night preferably.
“Please,” he murmured a prayer into the darkness of the empty room. “Please, if it is your wish that we are together then send me a sign. I’d do everything for her, but I need your help. Is there still hope for us? What can I do?”
But it didn’t seem as if the Gods had heard him, or maybe they just didn’t care. There was no sudden lightning strike, no foreign voice speaking in his mind, nothing. For over an hour, he kept pondering and wondering before sleep eventually overcame him.
. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .
He found himself in a forest that he didn’t recognize. Pine, fir, some oak, with light underbrush. Nearby, a mighty tree had fallen in some years past, and there was a cluster of saplings reaching up towards the gap and the light, with blackberry bushes around them. He noticed that he had a heavy basket in hand, filled with the berries, and without thinking, he set off down the well-beaten path behind him. Birds fluttered around in the air above him and he heard squirrels and woodpeckers hard at work.
Then he emerged into a clearing, and the moment Hiccup recognised the small but neat house with a garden of flowers, vegetables, and herbs around it, he knew that he was dreaming. He’d only seen this place once before, and just for a fleeting moment, but it was enough. His heart was beating furiously as his feet led him closer. If this was the same like the last time, then there should be the noise of a barking dog at any moment and then the door would open to…
But this was not a repetition of the vision he’d had some months ago, he realised. There was no barking dog, not even when he reached the still-closed door. He waited, and when nothing happened he lifted his hand to open it himself. It was locked though, so he knocked instead, eager to see her. Maybe indulging in this dream wasn’t a wise idea, but he honestly didn’t care. He only wanted to see her…
But still, the door didn’t open. Instead, he heard a voice in his head, old and gnarled somehow.
I am locked.
With a start, he looked around, but there was nobody. Shaking his head in puzzlement, he knocked again but had no time to even wait for a reaction from inside when the voice spoke again.
Still locked.
Somehow, it sounded amused this time, and finally the words started to make sense, even as nothing else did. But this was a dream, Hiccup reminded himself. Things didn’t need to make sense…
“Can… can you open up for me?” He felt stupid talking to a wooden door, but it also felt weirdly right.
The voice in his mind chuckled. No, I can’t do that.
Hiccup’s shoulders slumped. He had the strong feeling that this was more than just an ordinary dream. The answer to his questions was inside this little house, their future home. But if he couldn’t get inside, then–
But you can open me.
Hiccup blinked and reflexively tried to open the door again. But it wouldn’t budge, only rattled a bit. “No, I can’t. You’re locked.”
Don’t you have a key?
“No, I don’t. Why would–” he broke off when the door’s voice again chuckled in his mind.
I think you do.
Hiccup didn’t understand. How was he supposed to have a key, either to this enchanted door or it’s future counterpart? He had no keys at all, had nothing on him except the clothes he’d fallen asleep in – the basket had vanished at some point without him noticing – and–
With a start, he scrambled for the cord around his neck. For her key.
See? the voice chuckled again, then faded away. He didn’t expect to hear it ever again.
Instead, he looked down at the key in his hand. It was bigger than in reality, sturdier, but it very clearly was the same key. With shaking fingers, he pushed it into the lock and wasn’t even surprised when it fit perfectly. With an audible click, the door unlocked and opened without his doing, revealing the person standing behind it.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she said in her usual slightly nasal voice, her blue eyes beaming and her pink lips stretched into a loving smile.
Hiccup could do nothing but stare. It was her. She was here! Joy bubbled up inside him and a wide grin stretched over his face. It might just be a dream, but still. Looking at her, openly and without having to hide anything, was balm for his soul.
“Come with me,” she said, smiling, and took his hand to lead him around the house and into the garden. It was bigger than he’d realised, with a patch of soft grass beneath an old tree where they made themselves comfortable. The branches and leaves build something like a roof above them, with only small spots of sunlight dotting the ground and dancing when the breeze caught in the tree overhead.
On their way, he took the time to look at their surroundings, her hand in his warm and reassuring. To their left, there was a stream and a little lake and to the right, he spotted the edge of the thick forest he’d come out of. Behind the building and the garden was a steep wall of solid stone that stretched to surround the clearing in a wide arc on nearly all sides except for a narrow opening somewhere in the forest. A caldera?
He shook his head, inwardly laughing at himself. Finally, he had the chance to spend time with her again, or something close to that at least, and he wasted it by looking at the scenery? Quickly, he focused on her again, on her hair, her face, the feeling of her hand in his – and frowned. Clearly, it was her, but at the same time, she was… different. He looked at her more intently, trying to pin down what exactly it was that threw him off. She certainly didn’t look the same as when he’d seen her earlier that day. She was older by some years, more grown up. Her face had lost a bit of its roundness and was more defined, her golden hair a shade or two paler. But that wasn’t what bothered him.
Somehow, she didn’t feel right. Of course, she wasn’t real, was just a product of his dream, but still there seemed to me more. She was too alive for a dream, and she was different. As if it wasn’t his soulmate at all sitting there at his side, but instead someone else.
He pushed the thought aside as something ridiculous. This was a dream. None of this was real and nothing needed to make sense. A part of him tried to convince himself that it would be better to simply wake up. It would be too easy to get lost in this fantasy and the longer he indulged in it the more it would hurt when he woke up again. But even with her not feeling right, being here in this beautiful garden with her to simply enjoy their time… it was too wonderful, and he couldn’t bring himself to even try to wake up.
She didn’t say anything, only watched him with that warm smile of hers that he loved so much as his hand cupped her cheek, his eyes taking in her achingly familiar features. He savoured every moment of the illusion of being so close to her, of feeling her warmth beneath his hand, and of the faint mayweed scent surrounding her. Even if nothing of this was real, it still felt real enough to pretend. For a few minutes, they continued like this, with him marvelling how well their hands fit together and how their soft caressing each other made him shudder, until he invited her into his embrace and she followed without a moment’s hesitation. At that moment, he didn’t care how much this dream might pain him once he woke up. Simply holding her like this was worth everything, and it only strengthened his resolve to keep fighting for her in case he ever got the chance.
“I miss you,” he murmured a good while later. It was hard to tell the passing of time, but he would say that at least an hour had passed with them simply cuddling in the comfortable grass. By now, he lay with his head cushioned in her lap, her hand carding through his hair. It felt good, so peaceful and right. He never wanted to leave again.
“I know,” she replied. “I felt your pain and I heard your plea. That’s why I came to you.”
Hiccup frowned at her odd choice of words. She’d come to him because of his plea? What plea? And how had she come to him, when this was only a dream? It didn’t make sense, unless–
“But don’t give up,” she went on, interrupting his line of thoughts. “You were right right from the beginning. Don’t give in to doubt now.”
With wide eyes, he looked up at her, at her face, beautiful as always yet with an intense, almost divine inner glow... None of this made sense, unless it wasn’t a dream after all. Was this the answer he’d asked for?
He took a deep breath to calm himself. If he was right...
“Is there still hope then?” he asked breathless yet carefully, unsure what he even was allowed to do in her presence.
Smiling, she nodded. “There is always hope.”
Hastily, he scrambled up to his knees to look at her. “Please. I… I need your advice, Oh Fair One. I don’t know what to do.”
She smiled at him, and there was no question to him that this wasn’t Astrid, for all that She wore his love’s form. “Do what comes naturally to you.”
“I... I have been,” he said, pained. “But it isn’t enough!”
“I know it feels that way,” she said, and her eyes seemed to gleam with an inner radiance, blue like the sapphires he’d once seen in a shop held up to sunlight. “Foresight is a painful gift, but We had a purpose in Our selection...”
“My Lady...” Hiccup began, and her head jerked towards him, a wry smile on his beloved’s lips.
“Yes?”
“Please. Please. It hurts so much being parted. All I want is to hold her again. Is there a way?”
She scoffed. “You are strong enough for the work ahead, although I know the path is difficult. Do Our work and know that your reward will be yours.” She motioned to the clearing and the house inside it. “Success–or failure–is entirely in your hands.”
“Then why are you here?” he asked.
“You called,” she said simply. “And in answer to your question... do you want to know? Truly? Foresight is a painful gift, as I said.”
Hiccup didn’t hesitate and knelt. “My Lady, please. You bound my heart to her. Just tell me what I must do to hold her again.”
She patted his head and said softly. “So We did. Well then. Yes, you can hold your beloved in your arms again. Soon. But first, you will end the life of someone dear to her.”
. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .
It was strange, Hiccup thought the next morning, how little it bothered him to prepare Crusher for Eret. Even though he was incredibly grateful Eret had rescued him, it had always pained Hiccup to tend to his father’s former stallion and to hum his mother’s lullaby to calm the beast. But today, it barely affected him at all. His mind was too occupied with that dream. That vision.
You can hold your beloved in your arms again. Soon. But first, you will end the life of someone dear to her.
She’d said that and he’d woken, and in the hours since, the words of the Goddess had continued to echo through his thoughts. There was barely anything else that registered in his mind. Every stroke down Crusher’s silken black fur and every movement to bridle and saddle him was done through pure force of habit, just like it had been with Cassie before. What did those words mean?
Was he supposed to kill someone for her? That… that seemed rather crass and he couldn’t see how that would be good for her in any way. She hated pointless deaths... Besides, he didn’t even know who. Eret maybe, so he couldn’t marry her in his stead? Or her father, in revenge for his decision and to render it useless? Or someone else entirely; Dagur, or Daniel, or someone he couldn’t even think of right now?
His heart was thrumming with hope, with the prospect of how maybe they still had a chance after all. But the circumstances were daunting, to say the least. He’d thought he was ready to do everything for this chance, but this… Could he kill someone, just out of the hope that it would somehow get them back together again? And if he could do it… Who and how and when?
The whirling thoughts in his mind made him dizzy, and he had to sit down for a minute. More out of reflex, he rubbed his twinging leg as he gazed into the distance with unseeing eyes. End the life of someone dear to her… Was this really what he had to do? Or had he just imagined it all, had it been nothing but a dream made up by his desperation? Gods, he couldn’t even trust his own mind anymore!
His hand wandered to his chest, feeling for the key and her warmth beneath. Last night, in that dream or vision or whatever it had been, holding her in his arms had reminded him of just how much he needed her in his life. If there was a chance for them, then he just had to take it.
But did that mean that he could murder Eret if it came down to that?
“Hey. You all right?”
Hiccup jumped when, unexpectedly, Eret’s voice cut into his thoughts. He looked up at his cousin, a spark of panic flaring up inside him. Would he be able to read Hiccup’s thoughts from a moment ago on his face?
“H-hey,” he stammered in greeting. “Yeah, everything’s good. Fine. Uh, Crusher is ready, but if you want you can check him over again. I’m feeling a bit fried – rough night – so I’m not all here right now. I-I hope I made no mistake.” Oh, wouldn’t that be ironic? If he killed Eret by accident simply because he hadn’t correctly taken care of his kit? Or would that even count as an accident, with a small dark voice in the back of his mind demanding him to do it? A shiver ran down Hiccup’s spine, and he averted his face when he felt Eret’s scrutinising look on him.
“Hiccup... what’s wrong?” He paused for a moment before he went on with a low sigh. “Listen… You don’t have to come along today if you don’t feel like it. This is just a joy ride, nothing more. You’ll really be needed as squire at the ball tonight, so you’d better rest until then.”
Hiccup grimaced as Eret’s words brought a new idea to his mind. Could he kill Eret simply by not being around when he needed his help? These thoughts were driving him insane!
“No, I’m good, really,” he muttered and tried to force something like a smile on his face. “But still, you better check that all buckles and straps are where they should be.”
“As if you’d make a mistake when it comes to horses,” Eret snorted. “No, I trust you. Besides, we don’t really have time for that anyway. I’m… well, I slept too long and I fear the rest of the party is already waiting. Let’s get going.”
With a tight smile, Hiccup nodded and was glad when turning to get Cassie provided him with a welcome excuse. Interacting with Eret had never felt this awkward before, and he was certain that his unusual tension hadn’t escaped Eret’s notice.
He had to admit, however, that going for a ride was a wonderful diversion from their other activities lately. Hiccup rarely ever felt as free and relaxed as when on horseback, and even with how anxious he was today, Cassie’s familiar movements beneath him filled him with a certain calmness.
As Eret had predicted, it was nothing but a slow ride through the countryside, hardly a joyous ride; in fact, it was more of a discomforting plodding, which Hiccup knew that she and her brothers all hated from how they’d reacted over the last few months. But it couldn’t be helped, given the number of riders in the party. Most of the hundred and more suitors were riding with them, and their horsemanship left much to be desired, especially as they crowded around her, unable or unwilling to just yet accept that they’d lost. But that was understandable, as they were the survivors of the contests so far, after the injuries during the tournaments and hunts had killed nearly two dozen, with that one boar having accounted for four deaths all on its own, and another two dozen-plus were wounded or maimed. They wouldn’t give up that easily, not now, not after everything.
From his place close behind Eret, he could barely even see her on Markor’s back where she rode at the front of the party next to the King. And their speed wasn’t helped by her having to use that ridiculous side saddle for this official event. He figured she wouldn’t be all too happy right now from that, but hoped that she’d at least find some form of comfort by being allowed to ride again for once.
Trying not to focus too hard on her and trusting in Cassie to stay in her place amidst the group, the slow pace gave Hiccup the chance to further brood over the riddle She had given him – even as the sober thought of the Goddess Herself having appeared in his dreams nearly made him hysterical. It all felt so surreal, impossible, and only left him more confused than before. Yes, he’d asked for help, for a hint at whether and what he could do, but had that vision – if it had been a vision at all – really helped him? He wasn’t so sure about that. She’d been right. Foresight was a painful gift.
For well over an hour, they rode along the shore of Lake Vola while Hiccup’s thoughts still whirled around in circles. He hadn’t paid their surroundings any mind, but from one moment to the other that changed. There was a commotion at the front of their party; a horse whinnied and others snorted, men yelled, and there was abrupt movement among the packed riders, some halting and others urging their steeds on.
Then a sudden shriek of pure agony rent the air, and it was only by dint of long experience that Hiccup kept Cassie from bolting in panic. A number of horses did bolt, sending their riders tumbling out of their saddles or carrying them off, and shouts of surprise and dismay joined the agonized cry of someone in mortal pain.
And from the sound, Hiccup knew, knew who it was...
. o O o .
Right... and I'm back into hiding...
Next Chapter
29 notes · View notes
Note
So. *cracks knuckes* I hear you have an au idea for Gary Green. Could you maybe talk about it a bit more? *crosses fingers* (im terrible im sorry)
 *crackles knuckles* settle down around the fire, I’ll spin a half-formed tale that is slowly growing into a real fic. Inspiration comes from my lovely Discord server and @agentmarymargaretskitz who encourages all my cracky AUs.
So John, Ava, and Gary are out on a mission for the Legends. This is after the whole ‘good and evil’ talk (sidenote: forever bitter that that was not an ONSCREEN conversation but i digress) so the tension between the two is a real ‘will they/won’t they’ mixed with the sexual tension as always. Ava doesn’t want to be here, but somebody needs to be a responsible adult.
Eventually, after *insert bullshit magic yadadada* Gary turns a corner and BAM.
“Gary, what happened?” Ava yells after hearing him yelp.“I - think I ran into a wall,” Gary calls back, rubbing his forehead, touching over his temples because damn, that’s what the pain feels like but - there’s no wall. There’s nothing. It just feels like a migraine.
He goes home that night and the headache has spread to a neck and back ache, as well. Oh well, probably pulled a muscle, it’ll be fine.
For some reason, he eats five eggs (scrambled a little raw) for breakfast and the ache is dull, humming under his skin. His mouth actually waters as Mona passes by his work desk with food for the creatures, he’s - starving.
Nate doesn’t question his eating of an entire can of chicken liver pate, plain, at his desk.
The headache’s back, and it’s worse.
It’s soothed slightly by a rare steak he makes at home, but now it feels like he’s buzzing with energy as he lays drained on the couch.
“I - think I have an iron deficiency,” he murmurs to nobody, as per usual.
There’s a purr from the back of his brain: No.
It’s all he remembers before falling asleep.
For the next three days, he’s basically been eating nothing but protein yet he’s never felt more tired in his life. Nobody says a thing to him.“Sorry Green, got the last 8 O’Clock,” McNeil laughs at him, the treacherous Keriug already filling up his cup. Gary rolls his eyes, but he finds he can’t roll them back forward again as words escape his mouth“You touch my coffee again, I’ll rip your lungs out and feed them to you.”
His eyes suddenly roll forward again and he blinks a few times before giving a high, awkward laugh. at McNeil’s startled expression. 
“You - you know me, not the same without morning coffee!” He takes whatever’s in the communal pot and sits back down at his desk, shaking his head and blinking a few more times. He gets through until lunch until he - suddenly blacks out.
He wakes up again in the afternoon, in the empty bathroom on the -3rd floor that nobody ever uses, covered in blood. That’s enough to make him panic, never mind the three empty pint containers of blood, a fourth in his hand and all over his mouth.
He stumbles out of the stall and washes his face in the sink, and when he looks up his reflection is smirking with coal-black eyes. He rubs his eyes and turns away, that purring voice pressing behind his temple. 
Hello.
“Uh, hi. What - who are you?” he asks, because damn his ingrained politeness.A friend.“I - I don't believe that.”Gary. All I want to do is help you.“...could you - not, do that,” Gary muttered, cleaning the messy stall.It’s taken longer to gain any control over you than normal humans.“...sorry?”Pure souls are hard to break.“I’m - not - a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”Oh, I know. You think about it a lot.“Don’t - don’t read my thoughts!”Too late. You’re tired, let me - drive. Close your eyes, let me-“No! Shut up!” Gary says too loudly out loud as he walks into the break room. He grabs a danish and scurries back out of there to avoid confrontation.
And instead of that, he walks right into John Constantine, looking ruggedly handsome (like always dammit Gary shut up) while he’s got crumbs all over his lips and dark circles under his eyes.“Hey, Squire,” John smirks with a cigarette between his lips even if the building’s nonsmoking. Gary opens his mouth to respond back when that awful migraine, like claws sinking into his frontal lobe, returns and he winces.“Sorry, migraines,” he explains in a rush, heading back to his desk without another look his way.
It’s too much to deal with, he opens the door to Ava’s office, knowing he looks like a wreak and she’s - so annoyed to see him, it’s so obvious, and he tries to explain, Ava, Boss-Lady, I’m - I’m sick, I’m sick, something’s wrong - “something’s wr-”“Gary, just go home,” Ava says curtly, going back to her meeting with the Legends. He lets the door close and heads on the walk home alone, only his feet carry him somewhere else.
When he’s finally back in his apartment, eating through two packages of raw lamb, the voice comes back.They’re mean to you.“I - they’re my friends, I was - I was being annoying.”Friends shouldn’t do that.“You - what do you know about friends? Where - where are you from?”Hell.“Okay. Okay, that’s normal. Why - why are you inside of me? Oh, no, that came out wrong.”Reasons you can’t know, not yet.“...cool. Look - look, don’t bother possessing me. Look at me, I’m worthless. I trip over my own carpet four times a week sober.”I...can help.“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”People deserve it.“I don’t need to hurt them, though.”Humans are dumb, Gary. All of them. You, not so much.
It’s weird, to have this conversation with essentially your own brain as you speak out loud and then have words and voice that aren’t yours come out of your mouth.
Give me a chance to take control. I’ll give you what you want, then you can let me what what I want, the demon says. (Gary’s calling him Joe, because his vocal chords cannot replicate the name that swirled in his brain)
“...you get one day to convince me,” Gary states firmly, and no sooner do those words leave his lips then his vision goes black.
When he wakes up, it’s to everything he’s ever wanted in the world. The A/C’s never on the fritz, the neighbors are quiet, the shower always has hot water, the apartment’s bigger, and there’s - a blonde warlock in his bed that kisses him before Gary has to leave for work.
He has his OWN office at work, his own Keriug, he’s employee of the month and number one agent, all the bells and whistles and everyone is actually glad to see him and greet him, even Ava, even all the Legends. Everything is so goddamn perfect, especially a visit from said blonde warlock in the afternoon, in his lap in his own office, smiling that rare real smile.
And then John Constantine says to him, Gary Green: “I love you.”
Gary sits straight up from where’s he’s been out cold on his couch, gasping for air and he doesn’t know why, he just knows his heart is racing because - 
What’s wrong? It’s what you want.“It’s not,” Gary whispers, lying but not lying, picking up his phone. “I don’t want lies. I don’t want to be lied to.”
It’s 6 o’clock. He’s been MIA an entire day and a half. There’s a single message, from Ava, at two in the afternoon: Gary, why aren’t you at work? You need to call if you can’t come in, remember.
That’s it. Nothing about his well-being, his whereabouts, about him.
Gary throws his phone into the opposite armchair and cries into a stupid throw pillow he got as a stupid giveaway at an office supply store. Not even a housewarming pillow.
There’s a hesitant warmth, just under the degree of burning, under the skin of his aching shoulder, spreading down his back.I want to help.
“How?”Whatever you need.
The knock at the door and the British accented “Gary, love, you awake?” sends Gary scrambling to shove bloody wrappers under the couch, quickly rinsing his face off before answering the door even as the voice hisses Noooot Constantine. “Hush,” Gary whispers harshly before throwing the door open.
John takes in Gary’s red-tinged eyes, dark circles beneath those, the general paleness and exhaustion. “Weren’t around today.”
“Sick,” Gary offers quickly. “Think - I have a bug. I’m fine, don’t - your’e not worried, duh, just - thanks, thank you for - checking in.”
There’s something - wrong, John can’t put a finger on it, but just nods in agreement. There’s too long a pause before the goodbyes, enough time for an embrace or a kiss, but neither offers either option. The door just closes between them afterwards.
I said humans were dumb, Gary.“Not - not all humans.”You aren’t. John Constantine, of all the humans, is the dumbest.“Hey, no, don’t say that stuff.”Yes, because you want to fuck-“Do - NO, that’s not why-”I can read your thoughts. Humans usually don’t break out of those fantasies like what I put you in. Why did you?“...it’s not real.”The warmth wraps around his arm, if that were possible. This is.Gary actually smiled. “...yeah, it is.”
Apparently, it’s easy to get used to possession, so long as your demon stays well-fed. Bloodlust can be avoided as long as there is actual blood to consume. Gary knows this butchery too well by the end of the first two weeks.
We should kill him, the demon tells Gary when McNeil steals the last K-cup again.“No, I said we wouldn’t do that....unless we had a reason.” Truth be told, he’s probably on borrowed time before he finally kills, he knows that. So far, the blood’s working to keep him satisfied.You hate him. That’s a reason. Or the man downstairs for being loud. We can rip his lungs out.“Not gonna happen.”
Ava’s in a very important business meeting with Mr. Heywood, and Gary’s leading the Legends to the waiting room outside her office to wait it out.
“So what’s this about?” Sara asks him.“Boss lady won’t let me say, you know that.”“Mick.”Oh god, Gary thinks before his vision tints into black tones.Before Mick can grab Gary, all he sees are Gary’s eyes visibly turning solid black for a brief moment before he has one hand in Mick’s collar and holding him up against the wall and snarling, “I said to WAIT.”
Then he shifts back and looks terrified for a second, dropping Mick down and offering sheepishly with a laugh, “I - sorry, no coffee. Did I mention I’ve been working out? Gotta run!”
He’s out of there, “What was that?”He was bothering you.“How did I do that?”I did it.
Then Gary’s flicking his hand to the right and McNeil’s chair spins out of control and he falls out of it onto the linoleum, precious coffee spilling everywhere.
Gary smiles despite himself. “We can’t do this a lot.”But we can do it?“...we can do it sometimes.”
For more, stay tuned for the upcoming fic!!!! Whew, I hope you like this NOVELLA that I answered you with!
70 notes · View notes
tpthvegebulevents · 5 years
Text
DISCORD THIRSTY THURSDAY CHALLENGE
Now that we are nearing the new year, a lot of TPTH challenges are making their debut. As we develop and refine the 2019 Vegebul Games before January 1st, it was decided to encourage participation by creating another year long challenge that will contribute in points collection towards the Games!
Introducing the TPTH “Thirsty Thursday” Challenge
Taking place on the TPTH Discord Server, the TT Challenge is meant to provide thirstful art and stories surrounding Bulma and Vegeta’s relationship. Inspired by the Smutfest event, this challenge comes with 11 months worth of prompts (excluding February in respect to the Smutfest) with each month providing new prompts.
Join the TPTH Discord Now!
Objective
The TT Challenge is meant to not only provide incredible art to scratch the smutty itch we all have, but it’s also to help build your points total and earn rewards with each level you obtain! It is your responsibility to keep track of your points via a Google Doc.
Download your Point Template for the Games here!
Overview
As the title suggests, this challenge is for every Thursday, and is open to both Artists and Authors. Prompts will be delivered in the form of a setlist (up to 10 per month) and will be revealed every second Saturday.
Participants and creators can pick and choose which prompt(s) they’d like to work with, or create a combination of prompts (I.E. Prompt Hot Tub combined with Prompt Bubbles results in Hot Tub with Bubbles). No singular prompt can be used twice to avoid point pilfering (excluding combos). 
Censorships need not apply! Work can be SFW or NSFW.
All submissions must be sent to the Thirsty Thursday Channel on Discord!
Join the TPTH Discord Now!
General Rules
This challenge will be hosted on Discord only and it is only open to Members of the Discord (you can join at any time to participate) who have the following roles:
Smutfest
18+ Confirmed
SmutWatchClub
Roles can be obtained by reaching out to the TPTH Staff.
All work must surround Bulma and Vegeta. Additional DBZ Characters are welcomed to make an appearance. No Original Characters are allowed.
The minimum rating cannot go below Mature.
Challengers may submit multiple pieces, but cannot submit for the same singular prompt twice.
Collaborations between competitors are welcomed, but submissions will not count towards your overall point total for the Games.
View the Rules of the 2019 Vegebul Games
Work must be submitted to the Thirsty Thursday Channel every Thursday at your leisure. No conversations outside Captions for each submission is allowed. To share feedback and show love for all the submissions, please direct yourself to our Thirsty Talk Channel!
Posts should have the following:
Titles
Prompt Names
Images (if you’re a fanartist)
Links (to work, for promotion, and to any references)
Brief Descriptions under 100 words.
Viewers are welcomed to provide feedback within the Thirsty Talk Channel, and offer reactions directly to the posts. Any non-captioned conversations will be removed.
Submitting to this challenge will also go towards any Point Totals (as long as they meet the parameters of the Games).
Click here to view the Requirements for Authors and Artists
Read the Full Overview of the TT Challenge
If you have any questions regarding the TT Challenge or the 2019 Vegebul Games, or how to acquire the correct roles to participate, feel free to DM us or respond to this post!
Also, please like and reblog this post to spread the word that new things are happening with TPTH!
12 notes · View notes
prixmiumarchive · 7 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Do you ever wish for a place to talk to other fanfiction writers? Do you get frustrated with the lack of commentary and text in a commentary-and-text-based medium of expression? Do your plot bunnies look like this fellow in the above, not-so-great banner? Do you miss the days when we called them plot bunnies? Has disenchantment with the state of the discussion of transformative works made you long for the days of dial-up, yahoo groups, and tiny fic archives run on GeoCities? Then this Discord server may be the solution for you!
Now, you might have questions. What is Discord? Isn’t it full of hentai? Do I have to install another application on my duct-taped-together computer? Can I do this on mobile? What, exactly, would make this have the potential for being anything better than the oft-abandoned, crickets-chirping concept of tumblr networks from a couple of years ago?
Those answers and more will be below the read-more. This is a living document which can be reblogged but whose content under the read-more may change. You can find this information and any other important updates to it in a static location at http://metamorprose.dreamwidth.org
Contents
Who this server is for.
How is it set up? 
What is Discord? 
What are Roles?
How do I set a Role or Roles for myself? 
What/why Metamorprose?
Rules for Metamorprose.
Punishments on Metamorprose. 
Disclaimers.
Who this server is for.
This server is intended for those who write fanfiction. If you have written 1,000 words or more of fanfiction, then you can assume this includes you, if you want it to. This is an all ages server with a few important exceptions. At present, there are three text-channels that are marked NSFW, meaning you will need to verify that you are of age to view them. Those text-channels are: nsfw-warren, nsfw-celebritiesrpf, and nsfw-musicbands. They are marked that way for these reasons: #nsfw-warren is a place to talk about writing fic that is rated M or E, #nsfw-celebritiesrpf and #nsfw-musicbands are marked that way because they are under increased moderation and discretion because they may deal with real persons who are living.
This server is open to individuals 13+ with the nsfw channels being restricted to those 18+. Any user found to enter an nsfw channel under the age of 18 will be subject to disciplinary action. Your curiosity and maturity is not wroth getting someone else in trouble.
Metamorprose is intended as a place for people who have a current or frequent interest in writing fanfiction. This does not mean that you must be writing at a certain pace or publishing a specific amount. Writer’s Block happens and so does real life. What this does mean is that if you are just a casual fanfiction reader who rarely writes that this might not be the most fun place for you. If you are an avid reader who has a lot of recs, even if you don’t write, you are welcome to join and see what happens. Any specific entry requirements or rules will be implemented and updated on an as-needed basis. For now, it is up to your discretion whether or not you would be a good fit.
How is it set up?
Metamorprose is vaguely rabbit themed in honor of ‘plot bunnies’ and their legacy. You do not have to care about or like rabbits. It was just the first naming scheme that came to mind.
At the time of invitation launch, the following are the text-channels on the Metamorprose Discord server:
#foxden - off-topic and social chat #rabbithole - where you go to role yourself #thewarren - fanfiction writing/process discussion #nsfw-warren - same as above for M/E-rated material #recs - rec fics by others #selfpromo - rec/promote fics by yourself #beta - seek/offer beta services #ficexchanges - yuletide? uh... anything else? promote and discuss here #catnip - PG13 very off-topic thread, stuff you just had to share that isn’t conducive to regular conversation #inspiration - aesthetics, music, etc. you want to share and chat about what it makes you feel or reminds you of #groupwatching - a place to set up sharing your favorite shows and movies and whatever else, through rabb.it or another service (not affiliated with this vague bunny theme) And text-channels for which you must have the appropriate role assigned to enter where you can discuss fanfiction writing and ideas and related topics for a given genre/medium. These subdivisions are based on Archive Of Our Own’s division of the same with some alteration.
#animemanga #booksliterature #cartoonscomicsgn #nsfw-celebritiesrpf #movies #nsfw-musicbands #theatre #tvshows #videogames #webseries These may change an the adminabun (me) is always looking for constructive suggestions on just about any aspect of my life.
What is Discord?
Discord advertises itself as “Free Voice and Text Chat for Gamers.” In addition to self-proclaimed gamers, it is also a place where one might find those who are interested in “memes” as a way of life and anime/manga fans with some overlap with tech-savviness. These are all generalizations, though.
Discord, in my personal experience, is very similar to Skype but with many more options. It is also, at present, ad-free, and to my knowledge plans to stay that way. If you are interested, the Discord team has provided a comparison chart of their features: https://discordapp.com/features
If you do game, do voice chat, or anything else, then it is my understanding that it really is a great application to use for that. For simple, text-based creatures like myself who rarely play games, however, it is a perfectly serviceable place to keep organized chats and PMs, all under one roof.
Another great thing about Discord is that you have several options to use it. You can use it in your browser simply by pressing “Open Discord” on the app’s homepage. You can use it in a desktop program/application, available for download on the app’s homepage. You may also use their mobile app, which to my knowledge is available for both iOS and Android. (I use Android, so if you have iOS issues with it, not my area.)
The application’s website is here: https://discordapp.com/
What are Roles?
A “Role” is a discord feature and term that determines aspects of a user’s status, permissions, and abilities within a server and its individual channels. For the purposes of Metamorprose, you should choose the one or two most-relevant genre/media roles and the posting medium (where you put your fic most-often) for yourself. The genre/media role will determine your username color, and if anyone hates their genre’s color I would be open to putting it to a poll. If you have more than one genre, you will inherit the color of the genre that comes first in the alphabet. AO3/Fanfiction.net/tumblr roles do not impact your name color.
The currently-available self-assignable roles are:
genre/media: - Anime & Manga - Books & Literature - Cartoons & Comics & Graphic Novels - Celebrities & Real People - Movies - Music & Bands - Theatre - TV Shows - Video Games - Web Series
posting medium: - AO3 - Fanfiction.Net - tumblr
How do I set a Role or Roles for myself? 
First, you need to be in the text-channel #rabbithole. I am just learning about bot usage for this venture, but at present I use a bot called Nadeko. She is a bot who sits there on the channel at all times and will, unless she is having server downtime, respond to your commands. The commands you need to know for self-assigning roles are:
you: .lsar
Sending the message ‘.lsar’ will show you a list of self-assignable roles.
you: .iam ROLE
Sending the message ‘.iam ROLE’ will assign the role typed in place of ROLE to you. For example, if I want to assign myself the Anime & Manga role, I type this exactly: ‘.iam Anime & Manga’. Nadeko will message you back when the deed is done. If It doesn’t work immediately, try again in a few minutes.
you: .iamnot ROLE
Sending the message ‘.iamnot ROLE’ will unassign the role typed in place of ROLE to you. For example, let’s say I am finished with my current Anime & Manga fic project or am moving on to another fic for now. I can type exactly this: ‘.iamnot Anime & Manga’ and Nadeko will tell me when she has unassigned the role from me.
Please note that using these roles most effectively is not assigning yourself every single one of the genre/media roles that you sort of like. Having one or two genre/media roles active at once will make it easy for people to see what you are currently interested in writing, are writing, etc. There are plenty of places you can ping-pong from liked-topic to liked-topic at the speed of your fingertips, tumblr included. This server will be the greatest resource to you if you use roles and the genre-specific text-channels judiciously. You can alter your roles as much as you want, within reason, so you are not stuck just because you have an interest shift. (Trust me, I am the queen of multifandom lack of focus.) Just don’t abuse Nadeko. She is a free service who does not belong to me.
What/why Metamorprose? 
I just wanted a name for the server that was kind-of unique and meant something.
“Metamorphose” is a verb meaning to change the form or nature of;  transform.
“Prose” is what most of us write in, striving for the middle ground between purple and beige.
In the age-old fandom tradition, therefore, it is a portmanteau for the process of creative transformative works: metamorprose.
Rules for Metamorprose. 
1. Treat others with courtesy and respect. Do not insult a person, disagree respectfully, and only offer constructive criticism.
2. Do not bait or otherwise goad another user into misbehavior. This will be considered misbehavior as well. If you are having an issue with a user, please come to the adminabun or any assigned mods to deal with it.
3. Do not post NSFW material in non nsfw channels. This does NOT include posting clearly marked M/E-rated fics in fic rec channels.
4. Keep on-topic within reason in the text channels that are not the #foxden. Reasonable and brief rabbit trails are fine, but don't turn them into niche off-topic channels.
5. Use good sense. Use discord's features appropriately. If you don't know how to or if you can do something, Google it first. If you can't figure it out from the first page of Google results, ask someone you trust. The adminabun is willing to take your questions about discord operation, within reason, after you have tried googling it yourself.
6. Non NSFW-channels should be kept at a PG-13 tone. There are no nsfw or profanity filters set up on the non-nsfw channels, so this is based on the honor system and abuse of this WILL get you warned.
7. Theft or plagiarism will merit a warning or an immediate ban, depending on context and severity, at admin/mod discretion. 8. Do not direct people directly to your patreon or ko-fi page. What you do in PMs with friends is up to you but do not otherwise promote monetary gain for yourself on this channel.
9. Do not offer financially-compensated commissions on this channel for fic or for art.
10. More rules may be added and will be announced, but ignorance of a rule is not an excuse to not follow it.
On Dreamwidth: http://metamorprose.dreamwidth.org/334.html
Punishments on Metamorprose. 
Egregious and flagrant violation of any of the above rules or other abusive behavior may be cause for immediate ban. However, the general rule is that 3 warnings result in a softban. This will ban you but will allow you to rejoin the channel again after you’ve had a cool-down. 5 warnings will result in a permanent ban.
Disclaimers. 
This Discord server is not affiliate with any of the following: Archive Of Our Own, the Organization for Transformative Works, Fanfiction.net, tumblr, rabb.it, dreamwidth, yuletide, or any other unnoted, official organization. It is a project by the fan and fanfiction writer whose Discord tag is Prix#9110.
By clicking the following link, you agree to be subject to the aforementioned rules and policies, whether you read them or not: https://discord.gg/z3FHEYQ
3 notes · View notes