The Unlovables

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The Unlovables

Everyone loves a hero. As long as they're youthful, hot, charming and conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, all the old, ugly, broke down, difficult-to-love, bastards out there are toiling away in lonesome obscurity trying not to daydream too much about what a relief it would be if someone came along with a soft touch, and a kind word, and the promise that it'll be ok.

Whether canon or fandom branded them as such, whether it's well deserved or not, there's lots of unlovables. They know most beasts never transform for their beauties. They've probably noticed that even in the Disney version Quasimodo ends up alone ffs. Still, props to them for maintaining a shred of optimism about finding love. Even if they'll never admit to being hopeful.

So if you spent prom on the bleachers. If you max-out at a 5 (maybe 6 generously). If you've got a history of first dates and very few seconds; If you can guarantee you'll get the seat to yourself on the train. Chin up, champ. This one's for you

how to play:

Top level with your unlovable characters; State any prefs like gen, shippy or nsfw. Link your permissions pgs. Tell us a bit about what makes your muse a tough sell.

Comment to comfort someone the world finds difficult to love and be the real heroes in this meme.

Comments

[awarriorsheart]

Sweet dreams, witcher, are her thoughts when he does nod off, her own eyes still heavy. Humming, she very gently laces her fingers with his and allows herself to be lulled into a state of semi-consciousness, somewhere between awake and dreaming.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He doesn't sleep for too much longer that time, the noise their surroundings waking up causes him to stir.

He makes a small noise of confusion at finding his fingers tangled with those of the bard. He's not sure he can extricate them without waking her, so he just leaves their fingers twined together.

[awarriorsheart]

Her breathing is slow and steady and she looks peaceful, comfortable. Seeking warmth in that state of unconsciousness, she instinctively rolls closer.

It isn't until a moment too long after that the noises from outside seem to stir her back into consciousness and though she is a little confused, herself, she ultimately tenses a little, as evidenced by her halting breaths and the weight of her hand, instead of quickly moving away. It's almost as if trying to figure out his own state of consciousness.

So maybe she's warm and comfortable, but she no longer has booze as an excuse for oh, well, you're big and warm and I'd like to hold you until you have to actually leave. But don't tell him that.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I can tell you're awake." He rumbles, after a moment of this tension. He doesn't move his hand. "Witcher's hearing and all."

[awarriorsheart]

If he doesn't move his, she doesn't move hers. In fact, she doesn't really move at all.

"I couldn't tell if you were," she admits quietly. "Didnae want to wake you up again."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Think I'm awake for good now." He says, a touch ruefully. "Still in no rush to get up."

[awarriorsheart]

"Neither am I." His tone doesn't go unnoticed. Her own is very quiet, a little hesitant. "Is this alright?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I guess." He says, but it's almost warm when he says it (hard to say with his voice). "Did you do that before you fell asleep or was it an accident?"

[awarriorsheart]

"Depends on what that is." It's unclear whether she's being purposefully obtuse or not, but there's a tiny bit of mirth in her words.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He picks up their joined hands before letting them fall back onto the mattress, still entangled.

"That." He says.

[awarriorsheart]

“Bit of both,” she burrows her face into the pillow as she says it, as if that might mask the warmth spread across her freckled features. “I was nodding off and it felt nice…”

[wolfdogwitcher]

In the light of day, he can see her blush and hear the flutter of her heart and he's not sure what to do with that information.

"Pretty sure I've never woken up to a lady holding my hand before." He rumbles quietly. "Bards are just touchy, huh?"

[awarriorsheart]

She isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are closed, though sleep is long since gone. It’s just easier not to stare.

“It’s got nothing to do with being a bard and everything to do with what this lady wants,” she assures him with a quiet chuckle.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Ah, now that we're not fighting over who can sleep in the bed you want me to call you a lady." He teases, though it has a sense of joking to cover an uncharacteristic nervousness that's come over him again.

[awarriorsheart]

“That’s because I’m a proper lady in the sheets.” It takes about half a second from saying it for her to laugh at her own joke. It’s a hoarse, sleepy sound but rather full of mirth. “You’d have known already if not for all that fighting precisely.”

[wolfdogwitcher]

That's enough to move a witcher's slow blood to blush and he feels his face get hot in spite of all his desire to keep his face impassive, knowing that in full daylight even her human eyes won't be able to miss it.

[awarriorsheart]

Just his luck, that's when she musters up her courage to peek at him. Her own flushed cheeks are flushed, but his blush doesn't go unnoticed. Not in the slightest.

She squeezes his hand.
"You alright, oh fair gentleman?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Yeah." He rasps. "Just not...used to waking up like this, is all." He says, feeling foolish and wrong-footed, not at all how he usually feels. But then again, it's easy to feel sure of himself when he's alone and not halfway-tangled up with a pretty girl in a soft bed.

[awarriorsheart]

"Mm, as long as it's not a bad thing," she muses, squeezing his hand again. This time she tries to offer an assuring smile. "If I'm to be completely fair... I'm not exactly used to it, either."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Pretty thing like you, with that sweet voice and riding on hunts? You oughta have your pick of any man in town." He protests. Though he supposes a lady might not want to chase men as indiscriminately as a man might chase skirts.

[awarriorsheart]

Her features take on a beet red hue at this point and she has to physically resist the urge to cover her face - she turns it slightly into the pillow, but stops herself. "It would seem I tend to take a liking for those who aren't interested. It's all fair."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He makes a noise somewhere between embarrassment and irritation.

"It's not that I'm not interested. I'm not a monk or a eunuch. I'm not blind to the fact that you're pretty, or that you've been real nice to me." He protests. "I just don't see why you'd want to."

[awarriorsheart]

"I could make you a list of reasons," she concedes with a small shrug. At least they're more or less on the same page here. "Or you could accept that sometimes there isn't a whole great logic to it. Maybe I just fancy you for you."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I'd just let you down." He says. "For one thing, I'll be gone soon. You might never see me again. Even if you could get past all the this," Apparently meaning his appearance. "I wouldn't want you to...expect things a witcher can't give you."

[awarriorsheart]

She goes silent for a while, contemplative. It is after a long moment that she stirs to lie on her back, pulling his hand along with hers. She's staring at the ceiling when she speaks again.

"If you want to be realistic, either of us could die rounding a corner tomorrow. Even if we don't, and if rumours are true, then I will expire of old age before you do. The truth is - and I hope you don't take it the wrong way - my expectations are low." She pauses, glancing at him. "I like to live the moment because that's all I really have, you see. 'M not asking anything of you, anyhow. I know once you leave, I might never see you again."

Which is a painful thought, but it's true. She knows that.

"I'm happy enjoying your company in this moment. All of that," mimicking the way he speaks of his own appearance. "- included. It's part of your charm, you silly man."