BELLADONNA .

AVATAR MARY of Hiro Mashima’s FAIRY TAIL.

21+, mutuals-only, independent, canon-divergent, heavily headcanon-based, multi-verse, oc-friendly. dark themes will be present.

written by fae, she/her, 30. EST.

rules / character info / verse info and links are all here .

i don't even know what year this is from ft. @aitheros

Her fingernails tapped rhythmically against the wooden surface of the table she sat at, accompanied by Sting Eucliffe. At this point, she'd grown used to his snark. Welcomed it, even. Supposed it was a bad sign if he didn't throw a petty little comment at her. It was their routine. They'd go tit for tat over things that meant nothing, because that was their way of mutually participating in an odd friendship that neither one had felt like admitting existed ─ cultivated by petty little comments thrown back and forth.

Friends. They were friends. Someone of Sting Eucliffe's stature, being friends with an ex-convict? Embarrassing, but technically, that was the idea behind this whole rehabilitation process that Crime Sorciere was going through. And yet, she could see Sting being unbothered by public opinion. If he did care, he'd sure learned how to mask it flawlessly. She supposed he had to, as the face of Sabertooth.

The comment earned him a well-deserved grin ─ without even a trace of malice in the look she gave him.

Which meant nothing, if Sting had learned anything about her in the last year.

"Oh, the feeling is mutual. 'Could be worse, though! You could also be terrible to look at. Luckily for us, at least we're pretty. Good to see I still make your heart skip a beat." A hand came up delicately to toss her hair back ─ only, her hand was met only with the air, having forgotten that her hair was currently up in a pair of buns.

i don't even know what year this is from ft. @coruscatiio

It startled her at first. 

That she was never expecting visitors aside, it was not a familiar knock. Not quite Ur's, and certainly not Solomon's ─ if the too-feminine, muffled voice that had been approaching was anything to go by. The sickening and unfamiliar feeling of her heart falling to her stomach flared within her again. Not a reaction she was used to.

Mary was intentional when she rose from her chair ─ careful not to slide the stiff yet sturdy chair across the old wooden floors of the cabin. There would be no way of knowing who was on the other side, so she thought it best to be quiet as a mouse.

As though by sheer force of will, she managed to get her heartrate somewhat in check as she slowly approached the door. She was not defenseless. Far from it, really. Truthfully, the cause of her anxiety was more the matter of what face she'd soon see, rather than fearing for a potential threat. Who might have been looking, and successfully found her.

"Does a Mary live here?" A feminine voice called from the other side - the same voice which had been cursing its way there, in fact. It was not one she recognized, and certainly didn't technically raise any alarms for her.

As she opened the door and she peeked out, a stranger stood there.

Good. A stranger. Not bad news.

"A Mary might be staying here..." She answered, cautiously, but honestly (to her own surprise).

Whatever questions she may have had were swiftly answered by the lady standing there, thankfully. At least she was to-the-point. A best case scenario, at that moment.

Her look of mild surprise didn't last long when the unmistakable description of Ur was voiced, and she instinctively opened the door wider.

"Oh, Ur? Ur is your sister?" She responded before really thinking about it, but she did glance back at the countertop, where a bowl sat, covered with a towlette. 

The dough still needed to rise, but... She could just bring it over with her, and bake it there─so long as Ur agreed. It could work out, as she'd intended to bake an entire bun for Ur and Solomon anyway.

Oh, right.

&. @astraebled

“Star-boy.”