#suspect fowl play

[primojade]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐈𝐔𝐕𝐀𝐓. ( fortune favours the bold )

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈.𝐈𝐈 : 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐈

" fear not death for the hour of your doom is set and none may escape it. " - volunga saga, c.5

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒' 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!

All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to! 

It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!

…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...

"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | In which you somehow find yourself tangled in the start of a web of conspiracies and confusion as the threat of the crumple paper of fate led you to a strange path with two equally strange men.

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 | Cursing, possibly ooc Kaveh and Alhaitham, spoilers for Sumeru Archon Quest, let me know if I missed anything <3

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | This is a lot harder to write because I established a new plot lmao. And because of Kaveh and Alhaitham it was so hard to write them sjakahs. Also, this was supposed to be posted on Friday last night but I was so tired after a whole day doing god-knows-what outside so I wasn’t able to finish the chapter :( Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

masterlist | route 1: argumentum ad hominem | (alternate route) route 1.1: magister dixit

Apparently, today was simply not your day.

Even before you get the chance to leave the blasted scene you found yourself in, you got stuck in the House of Daena together with two potential suspects of book robbery, one is known for being an academia lunatic and one for being a perfectionist architect. Not that you knew that they would do it, of all people, but at this point, you just did not want to give a damn.

Anyway, flashback almost a week prior after your arrival in Teyvat and before all this crazy fiasco happened, it's not everyday that your rationality won over your desire to earn and farm primogems, you know. It's also a near impossible feat to abandon the quest that could potentially help you advance your AR and even more so in pretending that Cyno is not outside, talking to Tighnari over something you wisely choose not to listen to–lest you might incur more suspicions from the both of them.

Which, in fact, is the last thing you wanted to do.

So, ignoring the questline and the angry red mark of the Paimon Menu, you closed the tab and let yourself fall on the soft bed once again with a dejected sigh. You repeatedly told yourself that this decision was the best course of action and you will have no regrets in this route. Still, you didn’t know how many hours had passed since then–all you somehow perceived is falling asleep, being lulled by the hushed whispers of the people outside and the quiet stillness of the Avidya Forest you grew accustomed to in the past months from behind the screen of your device. 

All dreams would soon end. Your hippocampus reminded you, and you agreed. No matter how much this bittersweet reality you found yourself in looks so believable, you couldn’t be far from your own reality…right? 

There has to be a way to go back.

That aside, the past four days you spent in Tighnari’s care was far from not being nerve-wrecking, if you were being honest. The fennec therianthrope seems to like hovering around you a lot, fussing like a distressed mother when you do something that he thought would strain your body and passionately lecturing you about the pros of staying in bed while you rest as if you were a poorly disciplined child.

While you admit that he was a great caregiver and it was endearing seeing a former 2D character worries about you despite literally knowing nothing about you, Tighnari’s inevitable tendencies to get lost in his lectures and fussing made your resolve to go back home hardening even more. 

Though when the sixth day had passed, you were finally allowed a bit more freedom to roam around. During that time, Tighnari had introduced you to Collei, his student and a trainee forest ranger, and it takes you a lot—and really, a lot—not to bawl your eyes out when you see the green-haired girl. You remember when you used to see Collei in the Genshin manga, she was still so small back then! And now, she is all grown up, cheerful despite her life experiences…and even kind-hearted enough to offer to take you to a visit in Sumeru City along with the other forest rangers to fetch some supplies to stock before the start of the heavy rainy season.

It was also on the sixth day when you found a crumpled paper with the word ᛚᚨᛖᚡᚨᛏᛖᛁᚾᚾ written in all bolds and italics using bright green ink in the folds of your clothes. Although you were weirded out and freaked out why, how and who slipped it there, you decided you did not give a damn about it.

Well, that was until you found another crumpled piece of paper under your pillow when you decided to get dinner with Tighnari and Collei outside. This time, ᚷᛚᛖᛁᛈᚾᛁᚱ was written on it using the same bright green ink. 

It doesn't even looked remotely similar to Teyvat's language, as what you've seen in passing when looking at the forest watcher's books on his study table. You have a vague idea what it means, but it was possible that it was one of their ancient languages, too. Since apparently, Alhaitham himself and any other scholars of his Darshan knows at least twenty languages, according to the lore.

But what the hell does it supposed to mean? It gives you the same level of anxiety when you are taking an exam in Foreign Languages. You started to question every motive, every reason why someone would send you, someone not even from this world, a crumpled paper with Earth's Runic inscriptions. Why would they send this to you? Who sent this to you? Do they even know you? A prank, maybe? What do they get from this? What do they want from you?

In any case, you don't want someone out there continuously bullying you, and you don’t have any lawyer here to sue them (unless you count on Yanfei, but that’s beside the point). So, as a last resort, you asked Tighnari if you could join the forest rangers going to Sumeru City because you planned to find your answers, and the possible prankster, in the House of Daena. Plus, you were really itching for a change in scenery!

So, yes, you won't get defeated by the Crumpled Papers of Fate before you could find a way back home!

"—oh, Collei…did I tell you how much I appreciate your existence? How could I cry in reverie for your benevolent acts? Just say the word, and I would do anything for you, you lovely human being."

Collei, probably used to your strange flare for dramatics, giggled in response and tugged your looped arms together. "I just think you need a change of scenery while recovering, and I know Master Tighnari's lectures could be too much sometimes, even if they come in good faith. Especially when you were recu…recu…um, what does he say again?"

"Recuperating?" You wrinkled your nose and Collei modded cheerfully. You can't really blame her for tripping over words, since most of the Genshin characters, especially those with super rich and scholarly background, used to speak formally and use deep words. The first time a curse slip passed your lips about two days ago, you remember seeing Tighnari's scandalous stare as if you offended his whole vocabulary.

It was also a fun way of teasing him. A small payback for all his lectures about flowers and taking care of yourself.

In any case, he begrudgingly allowed you to come see the Sumeru City along with the other forest rangers. It wasn't a long, arduous trek as you expected it to be, despite not using any Teleport Waypoints, maybe because the journey was an eye-opening one (especially when you saw chests and puzzles that you swore you already gotten before) and your group had tried your best from steering clear of any hilichurl or Eremite camps scattered around the forest.

After dropping you off at the Akademiya grounds, Collei and the other forest rangers told you that they will fetch you later after they're done restocking their supplies, you excitedly went inside, hoping to find some sort of lead or help in solving your crumpled paper predicament. 

Although Katayoun, the librarian, had adamantly asked for your credentials and permits before she let you borrow any books. Apparently, only students are allowed to have access here, but thankfully, Tighnari gave you a letter that he said would be enough for the librarian to let you inside, should you give it to her. 

“—what kind of book do you need, anyhow?” Katayoun finally relented.

“Uh, anything about Teyvat’s ancient language. The one with the alphabet similar to this one, if possible.”

The librarian peered into the two crumpled papers you presented to her, before shaking her head. “Most books about ancient language are strictly available only to students of Haravatat Darshan, and since your permit is from an alumni from Amurta, I apologise if I cannot comply with your request.” 

As she said with no room to complain, you had no choice but to pick other possible books to read that were available for you, stomping and frowning in defeat. But just as you sat on a chair in the farthest corner of the grandest library you ever saw in your life (it was even bigger than the one in-game!!), someone walked towards the seat across yours, waving his hand to you to get your attention.

"Hello! Do you mind if I sit here?" 

You felt as if you had a sudden epiphany, hearing a familiar voice that made your head snapped to him in surprise. You even almost knocked the pile of books you borrowed earlier when your eyes met a pair of sharp, mystic red irises and a tuft of fluffy-looking dirty blond hair. 

You resisted the urge to scream in both panic and excitement as you stiffly shook your head at him. IT'S KAVEH…?!

He coughed to gain your attention. "Ahem, I know it's very unbecoming for a gentleman such as myself but I couldn't help but to…overhear your conversation with our resident lovely librarian earlier. You were looking for books about ancient languages, correct?"

You blinked out of your reverie, slowly nodding at him. "Um, yes. I just need to find some references about…something. Unfortunately, I'm not a scholar from Haravatat to borrow the books I need."

His face lightened up, as if he, too, was hit by epiphany just like you. "Say, Mx…?"

"[Name]..."

"Mx. [Name], did you, perchance, recognise this?" Kaveh fished out something from his pocket and slid it across the table to you. Your eyes widened like saucers when you saw the familiar inscriptions of Runes written into three separate pieces of paper.

"The Crumpled Papers of Fate!" You hissed. "You have it, too?!"

"Yes!" He exclaimed in the same amount of enthusiasm as yours.

"But who the hell sent this?!" 

Kaveh shrugged his shoulders elegantly before resting his elbows on the table and leaning close to you. He playfully beckoned you to inch closer as if he's conspiring something with you. "That's what I want to know as well. All I realised is that the Crumpled Paper of Fate is some sort of code that gives us symbolism over something."

Your brows raised in curiosity. "Symbolism?" 

"It looks like you got two pieces. Though somehow, I got three." He tapped his gloveless finger on the table, the corner of his mouth turning downwards. "One in my pocket, the other was clipped together with my roommate's book in our living room, and the last was stuck in the door of my room. I even accidentally smack my head—"

"—which proves my point that your eyes are made of marbles if you didn't notice the door in your face."

Both you and Kaveh almost jumped from your seats when a deep voice spoke from behind you. Your jaw dropped when you caught sight of the Akademiya's Grand Scribe pulling the chair on your right side before getting himself comfortable on it, placing the books he held on his hands on the table with a soft thud.

WHAT IS ALHAITHAM DOING HERE THIS TIME?!

You were near hyperventilating near two handsome—and former 2D—dudes that was now glaring at each other. Well, more like Kaveh killing Alhaitham with his glares because the Scribe just leisurely opened his book and crossed his legs, seemingly adamant in ignoring his roommate.

And just like every playable character you met so far, and even the NPCs themselves, these two looked so human and real to someone from a game. The finer details from their designs and splash arts were more highlighted and even the contours in their faces are too detailed to be true.

Your eyes briefly glanced at the scribe's arm, and you inwardly whistled in amusement. Wow, those muscular arms could crush my skull. Lololol.

"Oi, Alhaitham! What in Teyvat are you doing here?" Kaveh asked in irritation, his former cool-ish aura vanishing in the instant.

He ignored Kaveh, his light turquoise eyes, highlighted with orange pupils, looked at you for a second and your breath hitched at its intensity. "...I overheard you two talking about the ancient scriptures and codes from the crumpled papers."

Your brows furrowed. "Huh…do you guys have something for eavesdropping or something?" 

He ignored you, too, and fished out three very familiar pieces of paper and slid it together with yours and Kaveh's. "....I suppose this is the reason why you want to borrow books of ancient languages, no? I will give you a hint. All of our papers are written in Runic inscriptions."

"Yeah, yeah, you the great scribe of the Akademiya from the Haravatat Darshan surely knows what it means." Kaveh said, sarcasm lacing his tone like a venom.

You grew more curious. "Where did you find yours?"

"Does it matter?"

You tried again. "And what does the Runic mean?" 

"Kaveh's Crumpled Paper of Fate means Ship, Blind, Light—which is rather suspicious, especially given that Kaveh found one of his papers in my book." Alhaitham said in a matter-of-fact tone, tapping his said book, that made Kaveh rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

"As a matter of fact, the only suspicious thing about that book," the architect scoffed. "...is that it's being held by a drama queen."

The last thing I remember, Kaveh's Vision is Dendro, not Pyro. Lol.

Alhaitham gave an unimpressed, humourless stare at his roommate's spiteful words and you tried suppressing your laughter, remembering Alhaitham's Oscar-like performance in the Archon Quest.

"Anyhow, back to the topic before someone rudely interrupted me. Mine was translated to Eye, Knowledge and Ravens." 

"But what does mine—"

You suddenly halted when a loud thump echoed across the library, and then there's screaming. Before you knew it, several Matra of the Akademiya flooded across the room, startling everyone who was inside.

"A book robbery took place in the library's restricted section. Everyone that stayed in the House of Daena between six in the morning until now, we are expecting your cooperation."

So, that's what happened to your supposedly peaceful morning. You were suddenly caught in the apparent book robbery in the restricted section, and you heard the General Mahamatra was going to interrogate every single person that the Matra caught.

This is not freaking good.

The prospect of meeting Cyno should be wonderful, right? BUT NO. You were on the receiving end of his job right now. And it's not even close to thrilling at all knowing the side of Cyno working that you honestly, do not wish to know.

Well, at least Kaveh and Alhaitham were with you right now. Though with the way they were bickering nonstop, you suddenly wished you could tell them to shut up.

"Theory number ten," Alhaitham muttered to himself; he was sitting so comfortably beside you as if they weren't on your way to the interrogation room. 

"You seriously reached theory ten with your nonsense?" Kaveh bited.

The scribe fished out a notebook from who-knows-where, looking for something. You tried to peek a little, but his muscular arms were in the way and it's embarrassing to inch closer when they didn't even bother introducing themselves to you. "It's possible that whoever sent this has the connection with the three of us—or at least, knows us to some extent. Perhaps wanting to measure our intelligence? For what?"

"Isn't that already obvious?" His roommate impatiently said. "[Name] got their Crumpled Paper of Fate in their own home, we got ours in your dorm, which by the way, only the two of us have access to. Whoever did this surely knew us pretty well."

"This is the reason why you didn't pass in anything other than your courses in Kshahrewar." Alhaitham said. "You always assume things."

"Excuse me, I'm not assuming. I am concluding!" He defended, apparently offended.

"Then don't jump into conclusions even if that's the only workout you do."

"Why you—"

As much as their banter was so amusing to watch, there are more pressing matters you had to know. "But that's impossible. I don't know anyone in this place aside from the Forest Rangers in the Avidya Forest, you know. It's nearly impossible that Tighnari and Collei would do this just to prank us. Though, I always had someone with me, so it's not possible that someone I don't know snuck into my room either…"

"You seem like you always have a witness with you?" Kaveh turned to you.

Alhaitham paused for a second. He blinked slowly, before a subtle smirk slowly pulled from the corner of his lips. "That's it."

"Huh?"

He stood up from his seat. "A witness." He vaguely replied before he went through the door faster than you could blink.

You and Kaveh stared at the door.

Then you two realised what Alhaitham just did.

"Oi, he just ran off without us!" Kaveh exclaimed in anger before tugging your hand to follow his roommate outside. "[Name], let's go before the Matra catches us!"

What in the world did you got yourself into?

Route 1.2.1: Stop Kaveh from escaping. You had a feeling that escaping isn't a good thing, especially since Cyno would probably hunt you down later. What's there to fear when you're innocent, no?

TAGLIST (open! Send a dm or ask to be added :3) | @xinii , @maehemthemisfit , @abvolat , @crazypriestess , @ghostsaysno , @kittence , @unabashedlyminiaturetyrant , @xiyanin , @toasterinabathtub , @sketcheeee , @fuoon , @luvwukong , @salty-salty , @rosebatsc , @inky8 , @thegeekact , @almighty-raiden-shogunate , @isuckat-avery-thing , @perhapsabitgirlypop , @2cuteforyourlies , @stxrgxzxr , @elsoleil , @tsukkinoyya , @mkaella , @celi-alika , @tiffthescales , @blurr3db3rry , @messyserver , @shadowmist0706 , @chin-chii , @observation-subject-753 , @clovers-anxiety , @shizunxie , @lleoll , @shoujishu , @uwu-panic , @forgotten-blues , @chaneylovesfangirling , @enma-reblogs , @cookielovingalien , @iruiji , @samarill , @definitionofsad , @spynerr , @bigcandlesmolbrain , @universal-rose , @feverish-dove , @inlovewithwaffles , @louise-rosita-leroux , @chocogi , @jar-03 , @swaggyb0ke ... (if ur username is bolded, it means i cant tagged u :(( maybe its in ur settings? Also lmk if i missed anyone cause im such an idiot sometimes shsh)

Route 1.2.2: Go with Kaveh to chase Alhaitham. If he escaped, you two would escape along with him! He's the grand scribe and Kaveh is an influential architect, they could get away with this mess with you…right?

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #gender neutral reader #tighnari #cyno #kaveh #alhaitham #genshin self aware au #twilight-theatre #jaded moments—!

[heartfullofleeches]

What If I said yes to the hero's marriage proposal, would he bridal carry me, the dark lord, to the place where he is loved as the hero?

"Will you marry me, great lord?"

You shrug. "I mean you just killed all of my allies or something, but most were dead already so why not."

The hero happily slips their ring on your finger and scoops you up in their arms, heading outside to take you away to their home village. Upon arriving, the residents obviously aren't pleased, but the hero quickly shuts down their aggression towards you with a dagger to the throat of the first person that comes near you.

You move into their home; them bringing you your every need. The villagers eventually warm up to you, even bring you gifts to prepare the upcoming wedding. Your future spouse always takes the first bite of any food items, suspecting fowl play with certain characters; the individual in question knocking it from their hand conforming their theory. Despite their betrayal, they were still the hero of legends.

They never force your affection, but some nights they work their way into your bed, clasping your ringed hand with a warm smile.

"Thank you for giving me a chance, my dearest treasure. By the gods will, I will go everything in my power as your spouse to make you happy."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere hero #yandere blurb

[jaygabler]

Review: Guthrie Theater’s “Christmas Carol” constrains its characters

I suspected my mom would have one question about this year’s production of A Christmas Carol at the Guthrie Theater: Does the turkey trot?

Fifteen years ago, the Fezziwigs’ onstage party was so riotous, a roasted fowl was produced and “the darn turkey causes an uproar by hopping off the table,” my mom wrote in a 2008 review for the Twin Cities Daily Planet. “It runs around the stage several times and exits stage left.”

Director Gary Gisselman’s Christmas Carol was chockablock with physical humor and treated Scrooge’s journey broadly, playing to the peanut gallery (as the headline on that 2008 review put it). The Guthrie added some discipline in 2010, commissioning a new script from Crispin Whittell for a rendition that, with various edits over the course of its decade-long run, came increasingly to focus on the spirit of the story and its social conscience.

The current Christmas Carol was adapted from Charles Dickens’s 1843 novel by Lavina Jadhwani, in a script that debuted in 2021 with artistic director Joseph Haj at the helm. This year, Addie Gorlin-Han directs the show, though Haj retains a “based on the original direction” credit.

This was my first year seeing the Guthrie’s post-lockdown Carol, and it was moving just to browse the program: the cast is full of familiar names, taking regular Twin Cities theatergoers on their own journeys of memory — not only to previous Guthrie productions, but also to the stages of Penumbra, Mixed Blood, and even Theatre de la Jeune Lune.

While I’m not particularly nostalgic for the era when Fezziwigs’ prank turkey was followed by a scene where a prop dog ran amok on the streets of London (“chasing an unfortunate soul out the same exit where the turkey disappeared,” noted Mom), the current Carol left me thirsty for just a bit of the character humor that this material lends itself to.

read more

#minneapolis #minnesota #theater #a christmas carol

[thefictionaledition]

Cock-a-toodle oo!

Gravy plot thickens

Farm destroyed: Police suspect fowl play

A grave-y situation: Police are working around the cluck

Pie in the sky! And in the trees and all over the ground too

Eggs-plosion! Chicken farm obliterated in peck-uliar circumstances

#chicken run: dawn of the nugget #trailer

[babyblueetbaemonster]

Tired of Jokir defeating her assassins Elenwen concocts a devious plan and has one of her agents charm a chicken to antagonize them in Riverwood and "accidentally" die at their hands, causing the townsfolk to kill Jokir for her

Authorities suspect fowl play

"Well, well, well. Isn't it the funny mer Ancano. I got some news for you… PACK YOUR THINGS AND GO TO WINTERHOLD!"

#when you realize the embassy funny mer is more brilliant than you #and you get mad and send him somewhere far away #ask and i shall answer #tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #Thalmor #thalmor embassy #elenwen #ancano #ondolemar #rulindil #and jokir in the wanted post? #elenwen probably will be surprised that I never kill a chicken in game #I didn't hit the first chicken I saw in Riverwood #oh no am I even a real gamer? #ask

[randomaphunicorn]

Below the cut is my theory about Nina

There is some weirdness around Nina.

Ideatic memory- Nina is somehow able to remember every single customer by their orders even if they’ve just been to her shop once. This is comparatively the least strange thing about Nina, it’s a little odd, but not wholly out of the realm of human ability.

Miracle resistance- During the ball, Nina is the only one shown to be unaffected by Aziraphale’s miracle. She instead calls out all the weirdness of the situation and even directly points out Aziraphale and Crowley as the cause of it all.

Creation abilities- Messages from her ex partner appear to show up physically in the world around her. While this might just be a creative way to show the audience what is being said, the last time with the whiteboard feels far too solid. Nina had already wiped of the whiteboard completely before checking her phone. If the chalk messages were only in her mind, then there would be no reason for her to erase them. Yet she does.

Then… there’s the Metatron. Why does he make a point to get a coffee _from her_ before going to Aziraphale? I think he might’ve been checking in. He knows what she is, and was trying to make sure she doesn’t.

What is she then? Well, that’s easy. She’s God.

God hasn’t been present the entire season. Where is she?

In Nina. We know that a being can seal their memories because of Gabriel. And we know that their presence can be hidden with a strong enough miracle thanks to Aziraphale and Crowley.

But why would she be on Earth? I suspect fowl play. The Metatron has been shown to overstate how much power he has in the past. Everyone assumes he speaks for God, but what if he was saying what he wanted instead of what she tells him to say. How long has she even been gone for that matter?

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens nina #good omens theory #good omens thoughts #my partner and I thought this up together #good omens s2 #good omens season two

[elzifelzi]

Ok.

For real this time

The last time

His name is Danny (D) Fenton

He got caught up in an explosion made by Vlad/The Fentons ghost portal.

And for the last year

He's been the one and Only Phantom.

The accident gave him powers but it also hospitalized his mom and killed his Dad.

D suspected fowl play and assumed that Vlad knew more about the accident than he was letting on so he vowed to bring Vlad to justice by any means necessary.

Aside from some asthetic differences Ds universe is very similar to Dans only main difference being how they got their powers.

D kinda takes on the role of spiderpunk but also not really

Just wanted to have fun with this one tbh.

#danny phantom #going ghost #go ghost again #danny fenton #redesign #dp fanart #ghost boy #dannyverse #danny phantom au #phantomverse #D fenton #D Phantom

[goosecoven]

why did the goose get arrested??

it was suspected of FOWL play

[mr-craig]

An unknown person has given me two tickets to a stage adaptation of Chicken Run.

I suspect fowl play.

#jokes #puns #foul play #Chicken Run

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Penelope Whelk Species: Siren Occupation: Unemployed  Age: 25 Years Old Played By: Immo Face Claim: Fivel Stewart

"What are these? Candy Hearts? They’re not even in the shape of hearts. Oh sure, I’ll try one, I’m sure they’ll be as good as the real thing…"

Parthenope, who would later become known as Penelope, was named for one of the all time greats in the Siren world. It was a family name (although it was unlikely they could actually claim descendance from the original), given to the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter, for generation after generation. The one who would someday lead the flock. No pressure. Their flock was wild and windswept, living on a small island (or rather, rock formation) on the edge of Canada. They hunted for their meals, both spearing unsuspecting fish out of the oceans, and predating on even less suspecting sailors who were ensnared by their siren song. 

Parthenope was still young. She followed her mothers and aunts in action and spirit, but if she was someday going to lead, she needed to start thinking for herself. It was just… hard to have an original thought when everyone around you lead the exact same life you did. 

Not that they were totally isolated, mind you. There were plenty of selkie pods that dropped by to the island to share the stories of their split lives. Even more exciting were the visits from the undead. They brought stories of their old lives, which were every bit as rich as their lives now, and they shared what life was like on land. It took time for Parthenope to start hearing, and believing what they said, that humans were every bit as interesting and dynamic as sirens were.

Still prey, of course, but their thoughts and opinions mattered. Parthenope was almost excited to have had such a novel thought, a new way that she might be able to lead others to think some day. Of course, her mother was still in charge, but it was good to prepare.

Parthenope was out on a hunt one day when the crash she’d created with her crooning voice resulted in one of the sailors having more injuries than she’d expected. Instead of carefully killing to bring their hearts back as delicacies, she’d let her bloodlust take over. Everyone understood sometimes these things happened, she’d catch another ship later.

Except when she came to, there was a survivor, who looked right in her eyes and called her a monster. Words hurt, you know? It hit Penelope deep. Deeper than she was willing to admit. But it had nothing to do with her deciding to take a gap year, as the humans called it, and go try out being in human civilisation. It would be good for her. Good for the flock! Try being something a little… less upsetting to people.

She swapped her name to the more human Penelope Whelk, and arrived at Wicked’s Rest. Apparently, it was one of the few places humans were as weird as every other species. The only place she stood a hope of trying to blend in. So far, it was working, ish! If only she could convince the rest of the flock that candy hearts were worth it…

Character Facts:

Personality: Eager, optimistic, naive, tempestuous, community-oriented

Penelope has standard siren abilities, and her plumage in siren form resembles a puffin, orange around the mouth and short wings included. It’d be pretty funny if it didn’t come with razor sharp teeth.

Penelope has a basic understanding of human society and behaviour. Hush, she’s doing her best.

While familiar with zombies, vampires and especially selkies, Penelope knows very little about other playable species. She’s reasonably knowledgeable about oceanic species in the bestiary.

While she’s been careful not to draw too much attention to the quality of her voice, she loves singing at any open mic nights around town? And if she “accidentally” enthralls someone into buying her a drink or a meal? No harm, no fowl. 

Having grown up in such a relatively isolated space, Pen is fascinated by any cultural differences to her own. Which… is almost everyone. Even other siren flocks tend to be pretty culturally different to each other. 

Equally, having grown up in such an isolated community, Pen has almost no experience in making friends. Just lots of enthusiasm.

#retired

[melishade]

I have a question

What would happen in aot humans found energon and reverse engineering then advanced their technology to combat titan before Optimus came to aot world?

Hm. It's an interesting thought. (And sorry it took so long to answer. I've been busy.)

The thing with energon is that the Survey Corps are not actively looking for it. They don't even know what it is. So how do they even come across it.

Enter Ilse Langnar

See when Ilse's squad gets attacked, leaving her the only survivor. She runs away and stumbles across a small pocket of energon. She notices the way that the titans avoid the energon. She tries to take it with her bare hand, but it burns her. But she knows that if she doesn't take it, she will die. So she tears off her cloak, picks up a small piece and wraps it in the cloth before tying it to her person. She continues running to the wall, noting the way that the titans continuously avoided her. And instead of dying by the talking titan in the OVA, she makes it to the Wall alive.

The Survey Corps are stunned to see her alive. How did she manage to survive in titan territory for weeks?! Ilse gives her notebook and even shows the energon that she found, explaining that this rock saved her life. Erwin immediately allows for another excursion to a) try and find this rock, and b) to capture more titans per Hanji's request. If energon is posing as a deterrent or even a weakness to titans, this is a major game change.

Erwin still suspect fowl play from the government, so he keeps this resource among the Survey Corps only. But through the sample that Ilse had taken, Hanji finds out that the energon is highly flammable and explosive. Meaning that it could be used as a weapon. Once Ilse guides them to where she found the first batch, Hanji immediately tries to create new weapons. During a titan experiment, Hanji uses a flare gun that has energon embedded in it and shoots it at the titan's face. They think the titan will be fine, but the titan ends up dying on the spot. And while Hanji is devastated at the fact they killed on of the titans they were bonding with, they just killed a titan. Without hitting the nape. Once Hanji gets over it, they tell Mobilit to:

The energon is a literal game changer! And now they cannot keep it underwraps from the government because there were some MPs who saw the commotion! The crown of course wants to get rid of it to keep control of the people, but Pixis and Zackley make a joint decision to leak it to the public, immediately gaining their support. The government has to work behind the shadows to smear the Survey Corps name. They even send spies to figure out what the Survey Corps is making.

But with this resource, mortality rates in the Survey Corps have decreased substantially. They’ve managed to secure a path to Shinganshina and make plans to seal the hole in the gate. They’ve even managed to kill titans from long distance with flare guns.

Of course there’s still the matter of where this substance even came from. Because it’s not a common resource or element for humans. It’s clearly not organic. So what the hell is it?

They get their answer when Optimus arrives in Trost a few years later. He kills the titans with weapons that mirror the energon flare guns. His eyes glow the same hue as those rocks. And Optimus says that he’s from another world. He has the answers to the humans’ burning questions and the hope to permanently bring an end to this conflict.

Although Optimus is going to have an internal panic attack when he realizes the humans have been tampering with energon.

Hanji: Oh yes! The blue fire crystal has blown up in my face multiple times!

Optimus: *external panic*

Meanwhile Ilse actually thanks Optimus because his resource saved her life.

#attack on prime #transformers prime #tfp #attack on titan #snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #send me asks #asks #ao3 #hanji zoe #snk ilse #erwin smith #tfp optimus #optimus prime #fanfic #transformers #maccadam #macadam #ilse langnar #survey corps

[st-danger]

How many seagulls would you have to find in your room before you suspect that someone is putting them there)

Tough to say because I have one (1) brain cell.

If I walked into my bedroom and found a number of seagulls above zero, I would be surprised as I live nowhere near water, but I am easily amused and would probably be charmed.

1-5 seagulls would be a shock, 5-10 would be alarming, and anything over 10 I believe would qualify as catastrophic.

But I don't know if there's a number I would recognize as...fowl play. I would probably be too focused on the fact that there are gulls in a place I wouldn't expect to even register that it would be a prank. My dumb ass would look for a seagull shaped hole in the wall.

#im an idiot #st-speaks

[fowlblue]

2, 7, 22, 24 and A, G, H for the usual suspects? (ily)

Ily too, friend- I hope you’re having a lovely day!

Let’s see…

2: How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Tim:

- I imagine Tim doesn’t really laugh much? He finds things funny and gets amused, he’ll chuckle on occasion, but outright laughter is just not really common to see, he’s not emotive in that way. He’ll smile if he likes the joke, though!

Jon:

- Very- Jon has an easy sense of humor and will also laugh at situations that do not warrant it (such as when an enemy takes a punch to the face). As I recall his laugh was described as ‘like a box of crickets’ which is?? So fun?? I imagine he bangs the table a lot when he does it, too.

Valentine:

- Valentine, like Tim, isn’t much of a laughing man- he’s easily amused and will snicker meanly, or chuckle at some stupid humor, but isn’t the type for deep, boisterous laughter.

7: What triggers nostalgia for them- do they feel that way often? Do they enjoy it?

Tim:

- Tim can get nostalgic, I’d imagine, but not very much- his early years he’s not particularly fond of, and many periods of his life have become cloudy and less clear as he’s aged and suffered memory issues from both lingering effects of the mesmer and damage from the Fowl Star. The strongest thing that summons nostalgia for him is spending time alone with Foxy, but sometimes it’s a rather melancholy feeling and he prefers not to sit in it. The life he wants is what’s ahead, not what’s behind him.

Jon:

- Jon gets nostalgic pretty often- he misses ‘the old days’, and things that remind him of his childhood or college years will often make him stop and think for a minute. Baseball (he played, back in school) is one such topic- another is driving through small, rural towns like the one he grew up in. He usually will let that feeling roll over him for a minute, and then shove it away. He’s got work- he can’t sit and daydream.

Valentine:

- Valentine doesn’t feel nostalgia too often, but when he does, he likes to sit in it for a while. Growing up on the northeastern coast of the US, many ‘beachy’ things remind him of his family- he’s particularly fond of saltwater taffy and likes to keep some on his desk to snack on.

22: How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

Tim:

- Tim gets jealous rarely, but when he gets jealous it’s not hard to spot if you know what to look for. He’ll become clipped, snippy and visibly irritated with whatever he feels threatened by, but rarely moves to do anything about it unless he feels outright disrespected (usually when someone won’t take a hint from Angeline and leave her alone- he knows she can fight her own battles but goes to support her anyways)

Jon:

- Jon can get nasty when he’s jealous- aggressive, overbearing, and loud. Deep-seated self-esteem issues and history with someone who deliberately stokes such feelings for the sake of his own amusement (see below) means that Jon does not take the feeling well. When he’s aware of his overreaction he’ll try to reign it in, but it’s usually well after the damage is done.

Valentine:

- Valentine, if he is to have a positive trait, is not a jealous individual. Partially, it stems from his ego- he doesn’t feel like he has anything to be jealous of. The rest is simply that he’s an unattached, shallow man and doesn’t really care enough about people (or most things) to become protective over them.

24: Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

Tim:

- Tim is comfortable speaking about sex- but solely to his partners, and that’s about it. It’s not that he’s prudish, but it’s not really the kind of conversation he expects in the social circles he frequents, and he’s liable to become flustered about it.

Jon:

- Jon talks about sex about as much as needed to hurriedly arrange himself a partner for the night, but that’s about it- usually that’s all that’s needed, and he doesn’t really like talking about it much. He finds it awkward and uncomfortable. That will not stop him from making incredibly raunchy jokes on-air, however.

Valentine:

- Yes, and to just about anyone (within reason). Valentine does not care a wink about the ‘taboo’ of talking about sex and will discuss it when questioned in interviews, or if it somehow comes up in conversation. Sometimes he’ll go into detail just to watch whoever he’s talking to squirm a bit.

A: Why are you excited about this character?

Tim:

- Tim has a wide and varied form of interpretation in the Fowldom, and I think that’s part of what makes him so interesting! Nobody sees him the same way (and admittedly he’s not the most popular) so I feel like I have a lot of freedom with his character while still fitting within the realm of canon. Also I just think he’s so funny?? Man used to be a crime boss and now he collects celebrity sneakers. He stole several mummies once. He canonically loves Tim Burton’s Batman… I love him.

Jon:

- God I could go on for hours but it’s like… Jon is also basically a blank slate, we don’t know much about him and I feel like because of that he didn’t really have much of a headcanoned character in the fandom?? Until now, lol- I love the Jon I have made in my head and I love that occasionally I get to share that all with you. He’s glittery he’s mean he’s oh-so-dramatic and I LOVE HIM.

Valentine:

- He’s my wicked little bastard man how could I NOT love him. Valentine is comprised of almost all of my favorite villain tropes: he’s sugar-sweet-until-sinister, he’s a rock-and-roll man, he’s an Evil Ex… Valentine can be presented in both a comedic and deadly serious light, which I think makes him a lot of fun.

G: What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Tim:

- Hmm… I really love his character so I can’t think of much, but I don’t like how in every visual depiction so far he’s lacking his facial scars. When they remember to put Cudgeon’s, but not Fowl Senior’s, it leaves a little bit of a sour taste in my mouth.

Jon:

- I think that since Jon is clearly a sort of ‘genre villain’ (he’s the stereotypical bad/mob-affiliated businessman, and while he’s well-handled he’s not much more than that in canon), I don’t really have many issues with his character? He was handled well in TEC. I only wish he could have been a reoccuring villain like Opal, but I’m not ashamed to admit that’s pure self-indulgence.

Valentine:

- I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s hard to get across the particular kind of cruel and violent that Valentine is- I don’t want people to think of him as some bloodthirsty killer or anything. He just completely lacks any qualms when it comes to hurting people that are in his way. But that’s hard to pin down in particular because he definitely enjoys his moments of revenge, it just doesn’t spread beyond that, if that makes sense?

#i think I may have missed one and if I did forgive me lol I just wanted to go ahead and share #sorry this has taken a bit!! I’ve been very busy lol- I’ll try to get to the others tomorrow or the day after loll #asks #oc: valentine

[mariana-oconnor]

The Blue Carbuncle pt 3

Goose Chase Intensifies!

the proprietor a horsy-looking man

Not to be confused with 'horsy men', who - as Sherlock informed us in a previous story - are quite different.

One thing I appreciate about Watson's critical view of literally everyone's appearance, is that you cannot know if a person is a villain or an innocent bystander just by reading the descriptions of them. Everyone is treated alike by his pen, even though this was a time at which people believed that "criminal features" were a thing. I suspect if I knew more about that particular "science" I'd be able to spot the criminals more easily, but I'm glad I can't.

"Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the bare slabs of marble. "Let you have five hundred to-morrow morning."

That's a lot of geese. That's an awful lot of geese. Five hundred geese? I can't even imagine five hundred geese. Maybe if I pictured them all on a plane,* but even then.

Five hundred geese. He sells five hundred geese a day? I mean, if he's sold out for the night and he's getting five hundred in the morning. You wouldn't think a dead geese would keep very long in an time before refrigeration. I get that we're between Christmas and New Year and people are buying their new year's goose and we're in London and a lot of people live in London (over 6 million), but still. BUT STILL. How does he have room for 500 geese in his shop? Does he just pile them up on the floor?

That's a lot of geese.

I suppose I did ask for more geese. Although these are only mentioned and not seen.

*I suspect no one will get this joke, but I'm going to make it anyway.

"It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese which you supplied to the Alpha."

Oh how I wish ACD had chosen a different name for the pub.

"Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don't know why you should be so warm over such a trifle."

Don't make trife out of geese, Sherlock. That wouldn't be nice at all.

"Warm! You'd be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. When I pay good money for a good article there should be an end of the business; but it's 'Where are the geese?' and 'Who did you sell the geese to?' and 'What will you take for the geese?' One would think they were the only geese in the world, to hear the fuss that is made over them."

I love this man. He is wonderful. he's just trying to do his gd job and he's an unwilling participant in the biggest goose chase of all time!

He also deserves some of the reward for his trouble. Although, if he's selling 500 geese a day or a week or whatever, he's got to be making decent profit off that you'd think.

"If you won't tell us the bet is off, that is all. But I'm always ready to back my opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the bird I ate is country bred." "Well, then, you've lost your fiver, for it's town bred," snapped the salesman. "It's nothing of the kind." "I say it is." "I don't believe it."

The classic 'please settle the wager between my friend and I ploy. Excellent. And we're once again at the point of 'Your goose is in another castle'. I was hoping there were more steps to the chase.

We kind of need the Benny Hill theme playing in the background.

Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off he stopped under a lamppost and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which was peculiar to him.

Aw, he's having fun.

"Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road," whispered Holmes. "Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this fellow."

Noooooo, I wanted you to have to run across town again to go and visit Mrs Oakshott. Bah!

The man hesitated for an instant. "My name is John Robinson," he answered with a sidelong glance. "No, no; the real name," said Holmes sweetly. "It is always awkward doing business with an alias." A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. "Well then," said he, "my real name is James Ryder."

Seriously? It was that easy? You give up your name that easily? Spine made of silly string. You are not cut out for a life of crime, Mr James Ryder. You fold like cheap paper. You do not deserve the goose.

"Pray step into the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you everything which you would wish to know." The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether he is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped into the cab...

What is this? So the maid is the brains of the operation, I guess. But then you were stupid enough to lose track of the goose you fed a priceless stolen jewel to. I guess we couldn't have expected much from you in the first place.

"Pray take the basket-chair."

I know its not. I know they weren't even invented at the time. But I'm imagining one of those hanging egg basket chairs, and Mr Ryder just gently swinging to and fro as Sherlock pulls on his slippers, both he and his fate hanging in the balance.

"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in which you were interested—white, with a black bar across the tail." Ryder quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he cried, "can you tell me where it went to?"

I actually feel sorry for this guy. He's kind of pitiful. Clearly he does not have the common sense or brains to be good at crime. He's sitting here not putting two and two together that Holmes knows he's looking for a specific goose and Holmes knows his name and his job. I really feel like it must be the maid who is behind all this and putting pressure on him to find the lost goose or else, because otherwise I cannot see how he's managed this far without giving himself away.

"It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it," said he in a crackling voice.

Yep, she's definitely the one behind it all. There's no way this guy came up with the thing.

You made some small job in my lady's room—you and your confederate Cusack—and you managed that he should be the man sent for.

I don't care what the conclusion to the story is. Maybe she made him think it was his idea, but it was definitely her.

"There was a little shed in the yard, and behind this I drove one of the birds—a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying its bill open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach."

That's certainly an image... what the actual?

"Send him to jail now, and you make him a jail-bird for life."

I suppose some things never change. I mean, I'm not sure I agree that he'll never commit a crime again. But I can't deny Holmes' point here.

"If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief feature."

Holmes really is enjoying himself in this one. The joke earlier (that I didn't quote) about how the goose 'laid a blue egg', this joke about another investigation involving a bird (I assume their dinner). He's really feeling the spirit of the season.

This is probably one of my favourite stories, thanks to the utter slapstick of it all. A wild goose chase all over London, the mix up of the mistaken geese. The fake bet. It's just a fun story. A Christmas pantomime, which I can't imagine isn't intentional, as I believe Mother Goose - which involves a bet, a goose that lays golden eggs, and the owner of said goose trying to get her back, is one of the oldest pantomimes.

I still think the maid was behind it all, though. I think she manipulated him into taking it and was planning to blackmail him over it or seduce him into giving it to her or something like that. I know that's not in the text, but it just makes more sense to me than the idea that Ryder, who couldn't keep up a lie for more than two seconds under the slightest questioning, carried all of that out under no influence but his own. Holmes even calls her Ryder's "confederate" and yet doesn't follow it up.

...

And one last time, just for fun.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Blue Carbuncle #long post

[thefictionaledition]

Cock-a-toodle oo! Flying rooster missing from circus

Gravy plot thickens

Farm destroyed: Police suspect fowl play

A grave-y situation: Police are working around the cluck

Pie in the sky! And in the trees and all over the ground too

Eggs-plosion! Chicken farm obliterated in peck-uliar circumstances

#chicken run: dawn of the nugget

[blessyourhondahurley]

No Harm, No Fowl (Yet)

Dean comes to Cas's garden with a surprise.

Suptober prompt: Red Flufftober prompt: "I hate you" – "I love you too" Fictober prompt: "You’re looking, but you don’t see." Inktober prompt: Fowl

(Read on AO3)

This fic is a continuation of Keep Me Fed All Year although it also makes sense as a standalone...

Dean finds him in the garden. Of course he does. Why did I bother looking anywhere else? he wonders. He's keyed up, jittery with excitement over what he's about to do, but he stops anyway, stands outside the low fence that surrounds Cas's flowerbeds, and looks.

He surveys the flowers, hundred and hundreds of assorted blooms that crowd every inch of the available space with a riotous splash of colors. He checks over the little fence that he and Cas built together, noting its continued sturdiness with approval. But most of all he watches his husband, follows his movements as he tends to his plants, ogles the way his biceps bulge his sleeves when he carries a tray of seedlings.

He only intends to pause for a moment, to enjoy the view and collect his thoughts, but he loses track of time. He might have stood there all day, except that eventually Cas looks up and sees him. The smile that splits his angel's handsome face in that moment washes out the floral rainbow in Dean's sight. Flaming red dulls to maroon. Sunny yellow fades to beige. Natural splendor whomst? Dean thinks besottedly. Don't know her. Only one beauty worth admiring around these parts...

“Dean!” Cas calls, standing up off his kneeler. “I didn't hear you get back. How were your errands?”

“Good, good,” Dean replies. The jittering anticipation is back, and he struggles to keep his tone light. “Dropped off the books at the library, picked up your order at the yarn store, checked the PO box...”

“Anything good in the box?” Cas asks, because he knows that Dean uses that box to order all sorts of useful and unusual things off the internet. His weekly trip to the post office has become something of a mini holiday between the two of them. Some weeks he comes back from town with a new bronze knife or an obscure book of lore, some weeks it's a box of fancy liquor-filled chocolates or a bottle of high-grade lube. This week there was only one package to pick up – deceptively small, metaphorically huge. Dean keeps his mouth shut, though, just smiles and nods.

Cas cocks his head and furrows his brow at Dean's unexpected silence. “Are you going to tell me what you got?” he prompts.

“Try and figure it out,” is Dean's reply. He assumes parade rest position and smiles serenely.

“Figure it...?” Cas repeats, squinting. Dean hums and waits.

“Did... Is it something I already knew you'd ordered?”

Dean shakes his head no.

“Is it for us to use together?”

An emphatic yes.

“Intimately?”

Tough call, Dean thinks, answering with a waggling, equivocal yes but not like that kind of head movement.

Cas stops asking questions and stares hard at him for a full minute. If Dean wasn't absolutely sure that Cas's remaining “10% angel” doesn't allow for direct mind reading any more, he'd throw a flag for cheating. Still, it's uncanny how focused and direct and on target the next question is.

“Is that a new t-shirt?”

“Brand new,” Dean purrs.

“Come closer, I can't read it.”

Dean files this piece of information away for later discussion. He's suspected for a while now that Cas needs glasses. He allows himself one fleeting fantasy  –  a vigorous round of “stern librarian and naughty patron” with his newly bespectacled hubby. Then he mentally tables the issue and steps forward.

Cas reads his shirt and gives him a nonplussed look. “I don't get it,” he states, voice flat.

“You're looking, but you don't see,” Dean says, throwing a little sass into his tone.

His husband gives a huff, already exasperated with this game. “It says 'FOWL PLAY' in big fancy letters. So it's both cryptic and badly spelled.”

“Nope, the spelling is correct.” Dean can see the burgeoning annoyance in his husband's features. It's time to make the big reveal before the fun turns into frustration. “Do you give up?” he asks with a soft smile.

“Ugh, you know I hate to give up, but yes. What's the deal with 'Fowl Play'?”

“It's the name of our farm.”

“Our...?”

“Farm, Cas. The farm we're buying, where you're gonna be able to raise chickens and keep bees and grow flowers. You can even plant a vegetable garden and I promise I'll eat what you grow.”

“Dean, what?”

“It's about seven miles from here. Good land. A little over five acres. There's a farmhouse, three bed  two bath, and a barn, and there's already a nice big chicken coop with a covered yard. I put the word out in town a while back that I was looking, and the owners of this place got in touch with me a couple weeks ago. They're good people. They're heading down to Florida to retire, and they want their place to pass to someone who will love it like they have. They're ready to sell, and if you like it, we're ready to buy.”

Cas is speechless, one hand against his mouth in shock.

“We've both been wanting to get out of the Bunker and into a place that's a little more... Us. This place is perfect, baby. Think of it as an early anniversary present.”

His still-bemused husband laughs at that. “I hate you. An entire farm as an anniversary present? I'll never be able to top that.”

“I love you too, sunshine,” Dean replies fondly. “But technically, really, it's only a farmette. And besides, this gift is for both of us. So do you like the name? I figure, we need a catchy name if you're gonna sell your honey and eggs and stuff at the farmer's market like you always talk about. And Fowl Play's pretty cute, right, cuz of the chickens? I had a shirt made for you, too. I even thought of a motto!" He turns around to show Cas the back of the shirt. "'They lay, we play'. Huh?”

“We can workshop it,” Cas replies tartly, but Dean knows it'll stick.

Hot damn, he thinks. We're gonna buy ourselves a farm.

Concludes Continued here...

#suptober22 #flufftober2022 #fictober22 #destiel #supernatural #day 16