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The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

Fairies and farts

*Gwyn’s POV*

I looked over at Andy as he snored softly, passed out in Plug’s passenger side. I had yet to reveal to him that I had named my car ‘Plug’ because Prius’ looked like buttplugs to me. I thought Andy was straight, and I didn’t want to tap into some kind of weird insecurity, making him feel like he was being driven around in a giant, black buttplug whenever he was in my car. *chuckle* …because he totally was.

I started thinking about the fanfiction story I had been working on until just a few days ago. It was a habit, I would always start thinking about ideas for it on the drive to work- if they were good, sometimes I’d save them as notes on my phone when I got there. But now… to say that things had changed was a motherfucking understatement!

Fuck… Now, Andy wasn’t just someone I had seen on my computer and phone, someone I had seen onstage. I was fucking driving him to the clinic in Plug! In the middle of the fucking night, no less. Andy had complex body image issues that came out randomly as both borderline narcissism and self-loathing, was irritable when he was hungry, loved to hear himself talk, had trouble sitting still, was a dirty bastard in bed at times, could be really spontaneous or impulsive, was incredibly well-spoken, loved animals, and was also really compassionate. Not to mention polyamorous, apparently, though I supposed that didn’t really matter when it came to fanfiction.

Though my stories weren’t incredibly popular, I definitely didn’t want anyone figuring out that they were written by the girl from Andy’s Twitter… And if Andy didn’t discard me, if he made it to announcing things with me publicly- I sure as fuck didn’t want the world to know that I wrote smutty fanfiction. Ugh.

Thankfully, I hadn’t gotten far along in the story. I thought about my characters:

Andrew, the Night Forest Fae, a Second Officer. He helped keep watch over the Soul of the Forest at night. His lover, Juliet, had been killed in the last attack made in attempt to steal the Soul of the Forest, made by a group of trolls, several years ago. He had been emotionally distant from his friends and family, in mourning, ever since. I was worried at having killed Juliet in a story, but I just couldn’t stand writing stories that didn’t acknowledge that she existed, and I fucking hated stories that made her out to be some kind of bitch. I’d have to ask Andy about it when he read it, I guess… I had envisioned Andrew the Night Fae with a sort of W & D look, but in a loincloth. Now that I knew just how bad that frontpoop situation would be in one of those, I might have to go back, edit, and make any descriptions more kilt-like. I grinned…or not. Thus far, in the story, Fae Andrew was apparently not nearly as horny as real Andy was. Note to self: I would have to plan on more smut.

Eliza, the Night Forest Fae. She had committed a crime that had not been disclosed to Andy by the Council, and that she would not divulge, and been sent to Andy’s tribe, the Wild Ones (I was embarrassed for the name now, knowing he wanted to read the fucking story), in exile. Eliza had to work extra shifts on guard, low in the ranks, as punishment. Andy was put in charge of her training, and also told to keep a very close eye on her. I hadn’t actually decided what her damned crime was yet, I had yet to figure out anything clever enough- I figured it had better be something either really fucking ingenious, or a tragic crime of passion that broke her heart or some shit. So far, she was mostly just a secretive, plus-sized woman that was not a stranger to the use of expletives in conversation. I found myself incapable of writing about chicks that are average or slender, as I just couldn’t identify.

Christian, the Dawn Forest Fae. I had written him like I think a lot of BVB fans thought of him- friendly, empathetic, and liked to party. He was worried about Andrew brooding over Juliet’s death. He was one of the few people that called Andrew, ‘Andy.’ They didn’t get to spend a lot of time together, though, because of their different breeds.

I had ultimately decided to go with the Forest Fae as having four breeds, like dogs and cats. Maybe it was the veterinarian in me. They were the same species, but when they matured, they just naturally became either a Day, Dusk, Night, or Dawn Fae.

Ashley was a Dusk Forest Fae who was the Second Officer for his shift. He didn’t like that Andrew was still sulking over Juliet’s death, he thought it was affecting his concentration. Andrew, in turn, thought it was none of Ashley’s business. I had drawn my inspiration from them butting heads for a while after Wretched and Divine came out, but that was yet another thing that had me worried. I had heard Andy and Ashley were cool now, but I was going to find out whether that was actually the case shortly. And I hadn’t gotten anywhere near writing the part where they made peace yet. Shit…

Jinxx was a Dusk Forest Fae I had barely mentioned thus far, he came on shift with Ashley. He was a quiet guy that had come from another tribe originally a year or so ago, looking to find more meaning in his life. He had offered to help guard the Soul of the Forest. Though initially wary, after a while, the Council had accepted his offer, placing him low in the ranks.

I hadn’t introduced Jake yet, but I had envisioned him as First Officer of the Day Forest Fae. Though, in theory, at this point I would be able to ask him which of the four he felt like he belonged in, there was not a fucking chance in Hell. Maybe I’d just ask him what time of day he liked the best?

My train of thought was broken by the distinct sound of Andy farting. Holy shit! The mighty Andy Biersack had just farted in his sleep! I mean, everyone farts, this is fact. But I couldn’t believe that it had occurred in my car, in the middle of the night, with my ferret in the back seat, while I was considering just how incredibly offensive Andy would find my fanfiction! I burst into hysterical laughter, I had to make an effort to keep my hands steady on the wheel and my eyes on the road.


QOTD: so, if you were a Forest Fae in Gwyn’s fanfiction, what do you think you would be: Day, Dusk, Night, or Dawn?

me? um, i cannot really envision myself as a fairy, dudes. an ogre, a troll, a ghast, sure. but a fairy- not so much. but i will refrain from being a dick and answer the question, i guess. totally Night all the way, i am naturally nocturnal. i’d work emergency med for the hours except for the whole thing where i’d have to, you know, work emergency med.


*NOTE* The author of this story no longer has access to her account due to site malfunction.
SmuttyPariah SmuttyPariah

Ok, cool. I don't mind plodding plots at all, but as a frustrated English teacher, I can totally understand the grammar and structure stuff.

Merelan Merelan


oh, i'm not changing it significantly in that regard. i mean more a stylistic change to make it easier to read: breaking up paragraphs, improving grammar and tense consistency, stuff like that. i've become a much better writer and i want my stuff to reflect that. if you're nervous about the changed, you can check out the newest version on my wattpad account. my user name is anathemadvm, just plain anathema was taken. i'm still likely to further revise the very beginning a little, but nothing is plot related, i like the plot as much as i ever did. i just want it to be easier to read, that's all.

anathema anathema

Actually, the beginning of LoJ fits the story perfectly, IMHO. You establish Gywn as a likeable, but clearly flawed character from the door. It's much different from most other fanfic, which want to get to the Bride(s) ASAP.

Merelan Merelan


oh my goodness! i don't think even i have read it that many times, though i could be wrong! i've certainly only read it through once in one sitting! i promise that the edited version is higher quality, but i don't dare tinker with it here until i have the whole thing ready to go. right now i've edited through chapter 50, though i might need to ahve another look at the very beginning, because it's so plodding.

anathema anathema