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1000roughdrafts · 4 years

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Family Secrets: Chapter Fourteen

Town That Never Stops Smiling

Summary: Being transported to Teraw leaves you tired and confused, but the path to the truth is a long and needy road.

Warnings: slight angst, slightly OOC Dean

W/C: 3.2k

Masterlist/schedule

The four of you walk in silence through the field and onto a dirt road. Walking towards the bridge, you peer over at the glistening water underneath it. Dean squints at her, shaking his head, "all right. So where we headin'? Motel? Get some grub?"

Allanah giggles, "no. Here, there are no hotels, as they have no need for them. No one is allowed to travel between the regions without a request from the Head of the Region. From there, the Head provides them with a place to stay, whether that be in his or her own quarters, or at a volunteers. On the topic, we need to be careful about how we interact with the people and places here. It's big enough that we won't be noticed right away, but if we stay in one place too long there are going to be issues," Allanah says while you make your way to the start of the bridge.

"Uh, so what happens if we do get caught?" Sam asks in a whisper, looking around at the decaying bridge and trees that surround it.

As sweet as can be, Allanah smiles, "think American TSA meets intense CIA interrogations," she smirks. "In other words, let's just not get caught." Dean frowns which puts her attention onto him, "you're going to struggle with this the most, Dean, I can already feel it. But Y/N, you've felt it deep down, haven't you? A mother's love is not to be taken lightly, even beyond death."

You keep quiet, peaking over at Dean. He holds contempt in his face, trapped behind that stoic expression but easy to see the swirl of emotion in his eyes. He wants to scream out and ask questions, but what could he say? He has children, or at least a past version of him did and he knows nothing of it, but Y/N does?

Luna - June 26, 2068

Teraw - Region 3

Complete darkness goes so well with shattering silence. I have known nothing other than the darkness and cherish the quiet. The only thing I hate about the silence is that it traps me in a world of uncertainty. With nothing to grip onto, I succumb to the thoughts raging in my mind like an ocean under a full moon; but it is a beautiful thing.

Just as I am trapped in my mind I am trapped in my body. No movement in my arms, torso, hands, legs, feet or face. I can not open my eyes, nor can I move my lips. Absolutely nothing works anymore. Well, almost nothing. Miraculously my ears can hear anything from a train passing by to a mouse three stories down.

I am surrounded by so much noise in the day that I look forward to the treacherous words my mind whispers to me as I lay to sleep. I rely on my ears so much these days, as it's the only sense I've got left. There's this single sound I hear more than anything. It has a set pace, just as a metronome would tick along to keep the beat of a song. Beep. Beep. Beep. I don't live like many others, they say I'm lucky to be alive at all.

I hear my family as they trickle in, their footsteps are quick and loud. It breaks my concentration on the ticking. The stepping stops, I hear sniffling, deep breaths and then suddenly, "Luna, it's your mama. Can you hear me?" Yes, I hear you. I want to say it.

"I should start at the beginning," Allanah sighs, slowing her walk to a gentle stroll. "The two of you, Shirley and Bill you used to be called," she laughs lightly. "You enlisted me as a," she motions her hand around, scrunching her face, "guardian of sorts for your five children, quintuplets," she laughs again. "Wren, Ana, Tullie, Aidan and Luna."

You and Dean lock eyes, "Luna?" he says, pointing at you, "the girl that's-"

"Indeed," Allanah lets out a long breath, watching the ground somberly. "It's very sad what has happened to her," she says. "There's evil in this realm that neither of you could predict. It's what sent me back to Earth, locked me out. It wasn't until after I'd ended things with Crowley and found Y/N that I remembered who I truly was and what you created me to be. I needed to do something, anything, to bring the two of you back to this realm to fix what had been broken."

Coming to a stop at the start of the bridge, Allanah looks into her hands, "your children, they," looking back up between you and Dean. "They are very powerful, yet they don't know it. Not anymore, at least."

"What do you mean?" Sam tilts his head.

"Each of them possess qualities and powers of an element specific to Earth. When Bill and Shirley created this realm, you split the children up into regions. This was done to protect them, or so you said. Teraw was specific to Luna, but with you two gone and evil sneaking in, the regions had grown a mind of their own," she lowers her voice, "it's gotten out of control. Ana was born in Inequescent, but with the latest reincarnation, the family Ana was brought into grew tired and she was adopted by a family here in Teraw. What I know to be happening soon is that because of Luna's sickness, Tullie will be requested to come help her. Horrible things are in store for the regions, unless we can stop it.”

"Like what?" Dean asks.

"This evil... it wishes to gain control of the other regions. After that, other dimensions... like Earth."

Tullie - June 6, 2068 Hemort - Region 4

A day off is a luxury when one has specialized skills in the medical profession, at least for those in Hemort. I usually try to wind down and relax on those two short days, or tune into my favorite channel to watch some gushy movies about how everything always works out in the end, and everyone is just so nice. They make me sick, and yet I can't bring myself to watch anything else. In my day to day life, I don't always get to see the happy endings. Moreso, with my line of work, I see death more than any sane person should. And that begs the question; am I really as sane as I believe myself to be?

I admire the house on the screen and the characters who live in it, wondering what it would be like to have a big house with a yard and a cute dog who gets to enjoy it. There's not much of that here, only the Elite live on large plots of land. Instead, I rent this quaint apartment with the ceiling to wall windows I'd dreamt of having since I was young. When the new owner bought the complex, she planted the most beautiful garden and elegant, tall trees on either side of the building, which is better than the concrete nothingness that resided there before.

Pausing the movie, I unravel myself from underneath the blankets to make some tea, although I'd never be able to make it as calming and tasty as my mother had. The storm doesn't help to calm me either, with the trees rattling against the windows and begging to come inside. While waiting for the kettle to boil, I close the blinds and play the movie. I could stand to miss a little of it if it means I don't have to listen to that screaming sound the wind makes.

While adding honey to the mug in preparation, my phone rings. I'm not expecting a call, so I don't scatter to answer it. I pull the kettle and turn down the dial on the stove before going back to the couch to rummage through knitted blankets for my cell.

"Hello," I say, putting the phone between my ear and shoulder as I make my way back to my tea.

"Hi, Tullie," the voice says, calmly and sweetly. I spill boiling water onto my hands at the surprise, and curse myself for not checking the caller ID. How dare he call me at this hour.

"What do you want, Dan?"

After a heartbreaking pause, he speaks out, "this is not a personal call, okay? I don't care how you're doing. I don't want to know what you're doing. I don't even care if you're hiding from the storm in a cup of tea right now, or watching those stupid puke inducing movies, I-" I hear him sigh, "this is about the hospital," he says swiftly.

"Mine or yours?"

"Why would I be calling about yours? Listen, I have my hands tied on a case over here. I could really use your help. No one has a clue on what to do. They put me on this, but," he pauses and his voice shifts down a tone, "I'm really in over my head."

"How does no one there know what to do? Your hospital is the best out of all five districts."

"This case is really strange, Tu-"

"Don't," I sharply cut him off and take the phone in my hand before he can finish my name. "Please, don't call me that. It's Doctor Marion."

There is a silence between us as I make my way back to the couch, gripping my mug with both hands and the phone resting back on my shoulder.

"You know I wouldn't be calling you if I wasn't out of options, but this girl," he sighs. "She's been out for three weeks. There is nothing in her medical history that would help to explain her state. Her parents have no idea what happened, they said they just found her like this."

"Okay, so assuming it's a coma," I say, mostly thinking out loud. Then back to him, I condescend, "are you sure it's not locked-in state? Er, what about psychogenic unresponsiveness?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?" he says in a short, agitated breath. "Look, it's absolutely a coma with no explainable source. We've taken MRI's and Cat Scans and still can not locate the site of her brain that's causing it."

"Were there drugs involved?"

"No, we did blood work after taken her vitals. No drugs in her system, vitamin levels are all normal and we've been monitoring her brain waves while she's been here. It's like she went to sleep one night and just... didn't wake up."

"It sounds like you've done everything I would have, so why are you calling me?"

"Tu - Doctor Marion, I know you-"

"No, you knew me," I softly yell, foolishly pointing a finger in the air as if he were in front of me. Quieter now, I keep a harsh tongue, "I'm not the same person I was then, you played a huge role in that. I changed myself for the better. I never wanted to hear from you again. The last thing I need is to be reminded..." I trail off before the tear in my eye can drop and listen to the actors giggling on the television.

"Reminded of what?" Dan asks, in that same torturous way he'd always comforted me in the past.

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to bed. You'll get an answer tomorrow." Forgetting the tea, I barricade myself in blankets and cry myself to sleep.

As you walk along the bridge, Allanah continues, “for the first long while that I was here, things were fine. The churches were full, as were the pubs and shops. That’s the way many enjoyed it for a great while, but when those who opened their eyes fought back?” She sucks in air through her teeth, “well, let’s just say blood was shed, and tears were shared.”

She moves her hands around and slows her steps, “allow me to take this back in time. They followed a set of standards. A hierarchy of social standings and if one was not near the top, they were not worth a loaf. The weight of one’s standing held in community intervention in threefold. It started with the preparation and bringing about of their first church. Many thought that if one was of fellowship they were among deities.” She laughs softly, “as I, the only guardian of this realm, knew there were no deities, just little old me. It was comical. And per the two of you, I was never allowed to step in or intervene.”

“That’s stupid,” you mutter under your breath, watching your steps along the bridge.

“Blacksmiths, clergymen, doctors and carpenters were just below, and seen as noble. Those however that farmed land, crops and livestock were seen at the bottom. Along with butchers, dairymaids, tailors, barbers, and the like were noted to be Sepulchers. It’s worth noting, that this system was not one that you two brought in place.”

“Sepulchers?” Sam twists his face.

“No one had an inkling as to why, but it was surmised that it was in reference to those folk being just as untitled as the many of the graves placed just outside of this bridge.”

Dean folds his lips down in a nod, looking around at the piles of dirt outside of the river and under the bridge.

“After segregating with an older congregating with an older woman who called herself Minerva, it was she that determined there was power in numbers. There were more of them than there were in the fellowship and just as one might catch a second wind, they found their strength. It started at first with the announcement. The Town Crier, also among the Sepulchers, had begun his course into the Town Whisperer, and could be found in the benighted area, or circumferential. They conspired many gatherings and prepared for battle, if need be so. The churches grew ever suspicious as their totality grew by the day. Minerva conducted the rough fifty to leave their work for another day,” she sighs, “and then another. This war lasted for years, reaching all five regions and the only thing that I could do was try and protect your children, and carry them through their reincarnations. I had made many, many attempts to reach out to the two of you and all had fallen short.”

She focuses on the boards of the bridge and the squeaking they make as you walk over them, “a man by the name of Henry took to ending the war, and was appointed the Head of Teraw for his efforts. This man’s son is now the Head and Luna’s father in this realm. I wasn’t here to place them into the proper families,” she sighs, “and now I worry he’s stirring up trouble.”

Ana - June 6, 2068

Teraw - Region 3

These briefings make me feel less of who I want to be. I understand the importance of putting together the minds of professional colleagues to come to a conclusion on how to move forward with whatever case we happen to be discussing. However, as someone who works in healthcare, forgive me for stating that I find them to be quite menial. It's usually the same act every day; Dan will turn up late, I drum my fingers on the table, Mary doesn't say a damn word and Nathan does most, if not all, of the talking.

I'm mid-yawn through one of Nathan's monologues as a pink-haired woman wearing sweatpants, a tank top and a light cardigan walks in. I can only assume she is lost with the confusion draped on her face, so I stand to redirect her. Nathan, the natural born leader that he is, smiles and holds a hand out to her.

"You must be Doctor Marion. I'm Chief Nathan Scott. Dean speaks very highly of you." Her confusion is overtaken by a smile as she accepts the greeting, "I understand your decision to be here was quite rash, so we'll excuse the lapse in dress code this one time," he jokes.

I mask a chuckle by returning to my seat and shuffling through my papers. He pulls out his pocket watch and just barely inspects it before looking back up at her. With a careless wave of his hands and a slight shrug he says, "Dan should be arriving soon. If you know him like we do, you would know he's late to everything."

She laughs softly, looking at her feet. "Go ahead and take a seat right there, next to Ana." He gestures over to me and smiles. I do not. "She doesn't bite, I promise." I might.

"Enough," Nathan says as if he's heard one too many of Dan's jokes. Then again, we all certainly have. Dan glides across the room, briefcase in tow, and plops into the chair next to Mary. "First of all," Nathan goes on, sitting at the head of the table. He pulls a stack of papers from his own briefcase and shifts to Doctor Marion. "I need you to look over and sign these before we can proceed, for patient privacy and all that."

"I understand," she squeaks out and inches her chair close to the table. She smiles when she's finished and pushes the papers back to Nathan, who inspects them thoroughly before carrying on with his speech.

"Now, miss Luna's case is of high priority and exceptionally confidential." He classically folds his hands together and leans slightly into the table, facing me and the new doctor. "You see, her parents are what makes this town what it is."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"Powerful," I scoff.

Approaching the end of the bridge, Dean grips onto your arm, pulling you to face him. “I want to know what’s going on. Damn it, Y/N, we haven’t talked in... ten months, and - and now we’re in an alternate dimension where apparently our kids live, and...” he flops his hands down at his sides, looking around before taking a step closer to you, holding up a finger, “and you knew about them?”

“No,” you sigh, “I only had a feeling about it, I - I didn’t know for sure. I don’t even know how to explain it, it was just this gut feeling...” you trail off, not really understanding the whole thing yourself.

Dean rolls his eyes, so you push on, “look, Dean, I’m sorry that you got dragged into this, but-” you take a deep breath, forcefully letting it out. He turns his eyebrows down, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what else to tell you,” you breathe. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I never should have left? That I wish none of this was happening in the first place?”

He continues to glare, and you take one small step towards him, your bodies merely inches from each other.

“You never should have left, Y/N,” he scowls. “We were heading here from the beginning, Y/N. The only freaking difference is that we spent ten months apart from each other,” he says, voice crawling back into animosity. “I don’t know if I can trust anything you say to me now.”

You drop your voice to a whisper, “I am sorry, Dean, for everything. I’m sorry that I left, again, but we - I can’t change any of that now, so we just gotta get through this, and when we get back home... if we get back home, we can go our separate ways if that’s what you want.”

After a long pause, his face softens slightly, “no,” he says. Clearing his throat, his eyes move around your face, “no, Y/N. That’s the opposite of what I want. I want you. Even through all the shit we went through, I was happy with you. Why can’t you see that?”

Next Chapter

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Family Secrets<3: @lilulo-12 @vicmc624 @avenging-criminal-bones

Dean Queens <3: @flamencodiva @akshi8278

#dean winchester x you slow burn #dean winchester x you enemies to lovers #dean winchester x angst #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x yn #dean x yn #dean x female reader #supernatural #supernatural fandom #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fan fic #spnfandom #spnfamily #sam winchester #spn fanfic

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desperatelyseekingroleplay · 4 years

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Original m/m Search!

Hello, everyone! My name is Wren, I'm 23 and have been RPing for around 10 years now. I've got a bit more time to kill recently, so I'm interested in finding a new partner or two! I'm in the CST time zone (US) and will usually get to at least one reply a day, sometimes more. Occasionally it may take a few days. It really depends, but I'll always let you know if there's going to be a delay! I'm looking for partners 18+ who are interested in more literate, possibly novella styles. I tend to get too excited about stories and end up writing a lot haha. I also love to chat OOC and gush about our characters, world build, send memes and share music that reminds us of our characters, etc! That's not a must, but it's a plus!

As far as writing goes, I write 3rd person past tense and, again, pretty long replies. Usually between 4--12 paragraphs. Sometimes more, but usually within that range depending on the scene. Most of the time I mirror what I'm given! I only write m/m pairings and all characters must be 18+. Smut isn't usually the main focus of my rps, but I do love to include it. My only kink limits are the more extreme things (toilet anything, beastiality, bloodplay, etc). I'll always let you know if I'm uncomfortable with something! I prefer verse realtionships and don't like to play strictly top or strictly bottom characters. I like a good balanace between my partner and I. If you only play bottoms, we won't be a good match. I’m also down for having multiple characters and couples in one RP. Email only!

When you email me, let me know a little about you and what you're currently interested in rping!

Now onto the fun!

_________

I have a few basic ideas I've been craving recently, so I'm going to list them here. If you're interested in one, let me know and we can start working on a more in depth plot. I'd also love to hear your own ideas and cravings!

- A crime/murder mystery! This could even have horror aspects, possibly. We could do anything from a slasher in a small town to a mysterious serial killer in a large city. I have a couple basic ideas for this genre if you're interested, and I'd love to hear your ideas as well.

- Something cyberpunk would be right up my alley! I've been really craving it lately and have never gotten a chance to write within the genre. We could do something slice-of-life or more of a utopia/dystopia revolution idea.

- I would love to do something similar to The Mummy. Archaeologists, rogues, thieves, mummies, curses! This would be really fun to play out in the 1920's, but I'd be fine with something older or more recent or modern day.

- I've had an idea for a guardian angel/fallen angel/demon type idea for awhile. Let me know if you're interested in this and I can give you a brief rundown of the plot idea! This one would likely have doubling/tripling of characters.

- Space pirates! Or space cowboys. Or space rogues. Basically, space anything! Think Treasure Planet or Guardians of the Galaxy. I'd love something we could really build a huge world/universe around. Intergalactic and interplanetary space travel, maybe aliens, interesting places and possibly lots of action. We could definitely have an overarching plot for this one. Maybe a treasure hunt? A corrupt government? Some kind of space phrophecy? Let me know you're ideas! This one would be great for doubling/tripling, as well!

- I have an idea for a fantasy/fairy tale plot about a boarding school/university for the children of royals and other esteemed people from different kingdoms. Our characters would be rivals who take part in a school-run competition for the same powerful position in a renowned kingdom. This would be a rivals-to-lovers type plot. I have more details, so of you're interested, let me know!

- Speaking of fantasy, I've been wanting to play a mermaid or a fairy recently! Maybe we could include pirates? Other fantasy creatures? I'm down for anything!

- Retellings of Disney stories or other fairy tales!

- I'm open to ideas! I like a lot of genres and am open to learning about more and exploring outside my current boundaries. I'll always let you know if I'm not interested in or comfortable with an idea, so feel free to throw anything you're craving at me!

[email protected]

#Desperately Seeking Roleplay #Writing Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Ad #Roleplay Partner Search #Roleplay Partner Needed #Rp Buddy Search #Rp Partner Needed #Rp Partner Wanted #Rp Partner Ad #Rp Partner Search #Original Roleplay Wanted #Long Term Roleplay Wanted #Seeking Roleplay Partner #submission

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

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Original m/m Search!

When you email me, let me know a little about you and what you're currently interested in rping!

Now onto the fun!

_________

- Speaking of fantasy, I've been wanting to play a mermaid or a fairy recently! Maybe we could include pirates? Other fantasy creatures? I'm down for anything!

- Retellings of Disney stories or other fairy tales!

[email protected]

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #short term #long term #email #submission

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kapisola · 5 years

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♡ [ honestly saw that you were interested in Charles and Wren so yo I am *big thumbs up* ]

@sublunary-supernatural

OOC: Ye! You already know how much I love Charles and I feel like he and Alli would have really cute/funny interactions. He’s a giant grumbly-faced teddy bear and she’s a tiny little flower with her intimidating moments—always a ship aesthetic I can get behind. And HEIGHT DIFFERENCES!!! They’d be so adorable if they work out romantically. Even if they don’t, though, I’m sure they’ll still have their moments.

I can just see Damian wooing the heck out of Wren. He loves pretty ladies, and he’s more open to those who aren’t so easily susceptible to Wrath’s essence. Speaking of which, there would probably be more angst aside from the part where he’d start distancing himself when he notices his presence starting to take a toll on her. At first he might see her as just a distraction to fill the loneliness while he looks for his daughter, and I have no idea how she’d react if she found out he was just stringing her along because he was lonely. QuQ

#sublunary-supernatural #{ Yours Truly } Mun Rosa

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wndybird · 6 years

Photo

laughter pokes its way across misted eyes, dabbling cheeks with flecks of light. this child, the universe clutched in her palms, refusing to shed a thing.

MEET WENDY darling DARWIN.

OOC.

AUTHOR: ren, 20, est, she / they. CONTACT: my discord is ren 🎃✨#6401, pm me if you want my telegram or kik !!

BASIC.

NAME: wendy darwin

EXPLANATION:

wendy’s decision to cling to her true name was deliberate as an act to reclaim her sense of self , and to exercise some control over her life after the exodus took part of that from her. there’s also the added fact that it’s so much easier than trying to go by another name, which seems like a ridiculous amount of trouble to go through.

darwin was chosen out of ease , as well , being two letters off from her true surname and sounding fairly similar. behind the scenes , i chose it since its meaning is “ dear friend ” and i believed that would reference the supposed origin of wendy’s name well.

NICKNAMES: wen, wendybird, bird, little bird. ( i will sometimes call her wendigo, wendini, and wingdings. ) GENDER: cisfemale SEXUALITY: panromantic pansexual

OCCUPATION:

wendy is a full time student at the fable community college , and also works as a cashier at the local bookshop. she may sometimes take up the occasional odd job as a babysitter , a proofreader for other students , or even a tutor if she’s incredibly strapped for cash , but these are small side things that she only turns to when the going gets really tough.

she left her major as undeclared originally , as she wanted to be able to experience various differing courses , but has recently changed it so that she’s majoring in creative writing and minoring in journalism.

AGE: twenty BIRTH DATE: july 7th ZODIAC: cancer sun, sagittarius moon SECRET LANGUAGE: day , week , month , season , way , & personal path CELTIC ZODIAC: oak ( tree ) , wren ( animal ) BIRTHDAY TAROT: temperance , the hierophant

MAGIC:

wendy is not a magic user , though she will always quietly find herself envious of those who are. it’s possible that her curiosity and desire to be closer to the arcane may lead her into trying to practice , but that remains to be seen. otherwise she tries to function on the belief that magic is not just defined by the arcane , but little , every day things. like your headphones not tangling in your pocket , or your schedule lining up perfectly for the day , things of that nature.

PHYSICAL.

FACECLAIM: kristine froseth HEIGHT: 5’ WEIGHT: 126 lbs HAIR COLOR & STYLE: honey brown , long , wavy. usually kept down , sometimes half up , in a bun , braid , or ponytail. will occasionally do cute things like space buns , braided crowns , etc. EYE COLOR: blueee DOMINANT HAND: left DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: freckles , longass eyelashes , a birthmark on her right thigh , generally looking like a baby deer smh SCARS: she has a few very old , very faded scars across her feet and ankles from running about barefoot on neverland , but you probably wouldn’t notice them unless you were looking for them. PIERCINGS: earlobes TATTOOS: none yet

PERSONALITY.

MBTI: esfj KEIRSEY: guardian — provider ENNEAGRAM: type 2w3

ALIGNMENT & MORALS:

her heart is soft , but it is just. her alignment is lawful good , and she tries to operate on a set of clear , concise morals. her involvement with certain individuals may muddle this , at times , but her conscious is painfully loud and she will always be a voice of reason and a champion of what is right. her crux is that she is sometimes prone to bending too easily , as she still clings to her belief that no one can be all bad.

TRAITS:

( + ) optimistic , intelligent , honest , empathetic , brave , adventurous , friendly

( - ) idealistic , stubborn , nosy , susceptible , perfectionist , insecure , anxious

CONNECTIONS.

MOTHER: mary darling ( status: ??? ) FATHER: george darling ( status: ??? ) SIBLINGS: john darling ( status: alive. ) , michael darling ( status: deceased. ) PETS: eventually a dog in place of that abandoned wolf pup , maybe SIGNIFICANT OTHER: it’s complicated.

hello i LOVE to plot please come plot with me !!! i’ll have a legitimate connections page made soon i promise

IN CHARACTER INTERVIEW.

QUESTION TWO:

Was it hard adjusting to life in Fabletown? Do you miss the Homeworld?

Her heart twists until it aches, settling somewhere in her throat, and the soreness she feels there is terrible. She misses the Homeworld like you would not believe, yearns to return back to what she’s known up until recently, but she knows she must make the best of her situation. Wendy is nothing if not hopeful, and this is what keeps her afloat, even on the days when all she can do is sit at home, squinting into the distance, as she recalls her life before the Exodus. She smooths her skirt with trembling hands, the pleated navy fabric rustling silently, and straightens her back. She shouldn’t slouch. She knows better.

“I think the adjustment must have been difficult for everyone, myself included.” Wendy is not one to overlook the trials and tribulations of others, even as she herself struggles with the day-by-day of this new world. “Of course I miss the Homeworld, I miss it like the stars must miss the moon when the sun rises, I—I think it would not have been so hard, coming here, if I’d not felt as though I was leaving so much behind. But I’m sure the same can be said for most anyone in our… situation.” She doesn’t mention the nights that seemed to sprawl on, where she’d not slept for days, instead choosing to cry, or the days when her chest felt so hollow she was almost convinced she’d need to pick apart her ribs in order to find out whether or not she still possessed her heart.

A loose curl brushes her jawline, and she brushes it away, tucking it ever so gently behind her ear. “I’m still adjusting. It’s not been an easy task, by any means, but I believe part of our responsibility now is to remain adaptable. Besides that, it would be unfair to say that the change has been entirely terrible. We’ve been granted new opportunities, the ability to meet new people, there are so many new things to see and do.” It’s easier to treat this like something of an adventure, than to see it as a never-ending eternity. How familiar.

“I suppose, most of all, it’s important to stay hopeful.”

QUESTION THREE:

Where is your favorite place in Fabletown or New York?

The question is no sooner posed, and Wendy is smiling to herself, images of her loft conjured up within her imagination. It is certainly not the house in Bloomsbury, but it is her own, and she has made it as such. The walls are white, and would be considered bland, were they not adorned with pictures and artwork, string lights that cast the den in warm light. The couch is a mess of throw pillows and a particularly soft fleece throw, coffee table crowded with textbooks, notebooks, book-books, and the occasional succulent; everything is somewhat disorganized, but in the most organized way possible. Knick knacks line the shelves in her bedroom, tiny little things she’s picked up here and there, and none of them need a particular meaning in order to belong. Today, the apartment smells like chamomile tea and cinnamon, warm and cozy, safe and secure, like a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“My home, of course.” Her voice is filled with the sort of pride you’d hear a mother speak about her children’s accomplishments with, because truly, the home she has created for herself here in Fabletown is a safe haven, her own little alcove of personal magic. She may not be someone in tune with the arcane, but she can create her own version of magic, whether it be in how she interacts with others, or things she chooses to do for herself. Buying a new candle to soothe her nerves? Certainly. “It’s small, but I’d like to believe it’s welcoming. Filled with love, if you will, and I find that to be rather important.”

QUESTION FOUR:

How do you feel about magic? Do you think it should be banned, regulated, or neither?

Her eyes are aglow with enthusiasm at the mention of magic—such a wondrous little word that is, blanketing her heart in childhood nostalgia and the need to believe—but behind that lies a certain amount of trepidation. She has seen the danger that comes with placing unrestricted power in the hands of those who operate on their own rules, how magic can be used not only for wonder and creation, but for destruction and greed. If you would look hard enough, beneath the many layers of wonder and hesitancy, you would notice something else: the barest flicker of envy. Wendy is not one to become so often plagued by jealousy that she grows into something bitter and mean, but sometimes even she is not free of those resentful pangs. She has only ever been able to taste magic at the grace of another, and though she’s grateful for even a taste, it would be nice to be able to harness it for her own. If only for a day, even.

Her hands are clasped neatly in her lap, one thumb running over the other in time with her breathing. “I believe,” She begins, and then pauses, as though she must regather her thoughts. “I believe magic is an extraordinary thing.” Another pause, as the lush forests of Neverland appear behind her eyelids when she blinks, the tang of magic in the air, the sparkling lagoon, the mermaids—it shifts, and then something is very wrong. Grinning skulls peek through gilled skin, flashing sharp teeth and cavernous eye sockets that consume her like the void. It is enough to startle her back into shaken silence for a few long minutes, the ticking of the clock hanging on the far wall feeling awfully familiar as it tracks her silence.

“And as with all extraordinary things, there is the ever-present risk that someone will come along and ruin it, so to speak. Magic is a gift that some may be far too comfortable taking advantage of, for the wrong reasons.” Her words seem to be spoken with a sense of mourning underlying them, and the downward turn of her lips belies regret. Truly, she believes in the goodness of others, but logically she understands that without rules set in place, it would give too much allowance for evil to run wild. “If we lived in an ideal world, I would find no issue with letting magic flow freely, but in this case regulation is the safest choice.”

QUESTION FIVE:

Who do you think killed Little Red Riding Hood?

Minutes pass in silence as she glances around the room, as if the walls will afford her some secret knowledge, some right answer, as if one were to exist. Wendy has tried not to let her thoughts linger for far too long on what’s happened to Little Red Riding Hood, as if her denial would undo whatever had been done to the woman. Out of sight, out of mind, isn’t something that seems to exist, in this case. Teeth sink into her lower lip, and she chews although she knows better, nipping at glossy skin that will turn sore if she keeps it up.

“I don’t know. It’s not a satisfactory answer, I do know that much, but.. this isn’t something I’ve wanted to devote much time to. I don’t want to think about what happened to her, or worse yet, who could’ve done it—this is a terrible situation.” Violence has been present in her life far too often as of late, and her skin is littered with goosebumps now at the consideration that there may be a possibility that someone she knows could be a cause, or a suspect, at the least. Wendy places that thought within a box, seals it off, and places that into another box, on and on it goes, until the intrusive idea is locked away for the time being. Her eyes are apologetic, soft, tinged with fright. “But I hope justice is served, for her sake.”

PLAYLIST.

coming soon..

#poison:intro #i hope i covered all my bases here fgjfjks #— the storyteller & the story told. | ABOUT. ) +.*

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astrumocs · 1 year

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it’s almost 6am.... do i dare go to sleep..

#wren speaks #ooc #im gonna hate waking up in what i would like to be 4 hours but will probably be at least 6 o+<#i dont even wanna go to sleep!! but i must....

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healingscars · 4 months

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i'm a very serious writer.

<— guy who takes weeks or even months to reply to something.

#《 ooc 》 — wren would like to speak

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wisteriaorchids · 5 months

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NEW MUSES HAVE BEEN ADDED TO THE ROSTER. i put mikey and chouji from tokyo revengers on there cause i wanted to test them out. since chouji is more of a background / minor character, i'll be fleshing him out a bit while writing him! i'm excited because i already have some headcanons and ideas set for him. i'll also be adding shuji hanma to my requested muses, and will be basing him off of a fic i read a while ago because the character study was beautiful. 🫶

#《 ooc 》 — wren would like to speak #《 canon muse. 》ㅤㅤ / manjirou sano #《 canon muse. 》ㅤㅤ / chouji katsuki #《 canon muse. 》ㅤㅤ / shuji hanma

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fatedwol · 1 year

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THIS IS A PERMA STARTER CALL !!

LIKE this post if you are interested in small banter with eirnin forester! liking this only results in getting a small starter from me, albeit introductory or familiar. if you'd like to plot, please like this post instead.

#《 ooc 》 — wren would like to speak #《 starter call 》

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sidewritings · 6 years

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The Medieval AU Mud-fic No One Asked For

Summary: A morning in the life of laybrother Virgil at Fountains Abbey during the high medieval period

Pairings: None

Genres: Historical Fiction

Warnings: Illness, descriptions of monastic life, main characters are sick, pretty OOC

Word Count: 897

Author’s Note: I wrote this for a Medieval Civilization Class. Alternative Title: Early Morning and Ill Tidings

Pre-dawn light barely illuminated the stark white walls of Fountains Abbey on that cold November morning, but lay brother Virgil's brown wool robes kept him warm as he moved quickly and quietly out of the dormitory and down to the nearest exit. He was in charge of fetching water and ale for the infirmary, and, as such, was up shortly after those who worked in the bakery. Brother Virgil stepped outside and moved quickly towards the alehouse, cold dew clinging to the hem of his robes and a chill making him shiver and pick up his pace. He would need to hurry anyway, he reasoned, if he was to be finished with his early tasks before morning prayer.

Brother Virgil reached the exterior of the alehouse and fetched his wheelbarrow, wheeling it over to the door. He entered retrieved one cask of ale and two barrels of water to load up in his wheelbarrow. They would need water for washing and water for making some of their Herbals, and he and his brothers would be making much more of their Herbals than normal. An illness had overtaken several of the lay brothers and a visiting priest, Father Patton. The visiting priest was being cared for in the lay brother’s infirmary.

His thoughts drifted to the visiting clergyman, an odd man for a priest. Brother Virgil had never met anyone so talkative or with such a joyous devotion to God. Even as he lay in the infirmary, barely able to move and shivering with the sweating sickness there was a twinkle in his eyes and he smiled when the chanting of the choir monks echoed in the infirmary. Brother Virgil had spoken with him once, well, mostly listened. Apparently, Father Patton had grown up with Abbot Logan and they had attended school at the same cathedral. The visiting priest spoke fondly of the Abbot as if speaking of an old friend.

The wheelbarrow bumped over a stone, nearly upsetting the cask of ale, and returned Brother Virgil's thoughts to the present. He had tasks to perform, and if the smoke from the bakery ovens and the whiff of baking bread were any indicators, he was falling behind. The chirping of a wren and the trill of a robin started the dawn chorus and also urged Brother Virgil to focus on the task at hand. The young man hastened his steps and this time stayed alert for any stones or other debris in his path. He made it to the door to the infirmary with no further incidents and began unloading his wheelbarrow.

When Brother Virgil entered the infirmary with the cask of ale, Brother Thomas looked over his shoulder from the table where he had already started working on the herbals. The sharp, bitter smells of crushed herbs almost overpowered the heavy thick musk of the incense Abbot Logan had instructed them to burn to cleanse the air of any miasma. They had also been instructed to keep their minds free of sin, lest they fall ill as well. Brother Virgil brought in the first barrel of water and ladled much of it into a cauldron over the fire to warm. He went back outside one last time, nodding to Brother Thomas as he passed him, and brought in the last barrel of water, placing it beside the first next to the hearth.

He had grown quite sweaty from his exertions and proximity to the fire, his robes sticking to him and making him a bit itchy around the shoulders and elbows, but he accepted that as a small penance for running a bit behind. Brother Virgil walked over to the large table where Brother Thomas was hunched over a pile of pungent herbs, chopping them as needed. Brother Virgil noted with concern that Brother Thomas was concerningly pale and shivered despite a sheen of perspiration on his brow. He dropped his knife and his hands trembled right before he fell. Brother Virgil moved quickly and caught him before he hit the floor. Heaving his brother up to lean against his shoulder, Brother Virgil half dragged-half carried the lay brother over to one of the beds and carefully set him down onto it.

Brother Thomas reached out and opened his mouth to protest but Brother Virgil hushed him. It was already time for morning prayer and Brother Thomas was in no condition to join them. With a heavy heart, he turned away from his brother and moved towards the door, going back outside and walking briskly towards the choir. He nodded to his fellow lay brothers who were likewise headed to morning prayer, the chill in the air had lessened considerably through the dew was still visible, showing trails where other brothers had walked before.

Brother Virgil took his place among his brothers, noting the empty places where the sick would normally stand. Other than Brother Thomas, there appeared to be no new absences for which he was immensely grateful. His chanted prayers were a bit more fervent that morning, in the faint hope that his prayers would keep God's wrath from spreading to any more of his fellows. Heaven help them if the illness spread to the choir monks, or worse, the Abbot. If God continued to punish them like this there would be few left to praise him or keep the Abbey running.

#The Medieval AU Mud-fic No One Asked For #Early Morning and Ill Tidings #sidewritten #read the warnings #Sanders Sides Fanfiction

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