#especially Vasco's eyebrows

[canisalbus]

Found myself in the mood to doodle the sillies

.

[lookismfanfics]

Hello! I've discovered your blog and your Lookism works are just- *chef's kiss* 😘 I've been wondering if I could request headcanons for the Lookism Bois (especially my baby Vasco, plus anyone your prefer) on how they would react to a tired s/o.

If this is too much, feel free to ignore this :)

Stay safe and keep yourself hydrated!

-🐮anon

“𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝?”

Thank you for the request! I did my best… hopefully this is okay.

Warnings: Fluff! Mentions of snarkiness (?)

Vasco • Gun •

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

ఌ You aren’t constantly tired… and he knows that.

ఌ So it’s only natural that he’s a little worried; and honestly, you can’t blame him.

ఌ You sit with him against the wall, fighting a literal war with yourself to keep your eyes open.

ఌ This week in general has been crazy tiring.

ఌ And how here you are- hanging out with the leader of the Burn Knuckles while on the verge of falling asleep

ఌ Vasco leans forward on the balls of his feet, staring at you shamelessly with unmasked concern.

ఌ You get the sense that you missed something, glancing at him. Euntee, indeed, is looking at you expectantly.

ఌ You rub your eyes, “Huh? Sorry did you say something?”

ఌ Vasco’s eyebrows draw together tightly. “Mhm. Are you tired?”

ఌ It’s not normal for you to be this out of it. Usually, after school, you and Vasco will sit somewhere- anywhere -to talk about how your days went.

ఌ He’ll tell you about funny things that happened, and you’ll give him your full attention (or as much as you can spare) and laugh with him.

ఌ But not today. Today you’re sleepwalking through this conversation, and he can tell.

ఌ “Yeah, just a little.”

ఌ “Why?”

ఌ You adjust your sitting position, slumping further against the wall. “Homework.”

ఌ “But you’re always better than me about homework…” he says slowly, eyes still dark and glazed with seriousness, while his cheeks flush with childish persona.

ఌ And while you nod and mumble an offhand reply about how this week’s assignments were just a bit more difficult, and how time had slipped from you, Vasco seems less than assured that you’re alright.

ఌ He slides his hand into his pocket.

ఌ “Here. It’ll keep you awake.”

ఌ You try not to smile like an idiot, taking the carton of chocolate milk he’s extended to you.

ఌ He wants to keep you awake… and at the same time, he wants to get you somewhere comfortable so you can sleep.

ఌ He knows for a fact that teenagers need a good nights rest to keep growing. Mentally and physically.

ఌ You puncture the top of the carton with the straw, feeling the weight of Vasco’s stare once again on you.

ఌ “I’ll be fine you know. I’ll just take a nap if I still feel tired.”

ఌ He looks at the ground, cheeks flaring sheepishly. You try not to smile, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

ఌ He turns to you. “I will be your bed. If you want to sleep right now.”

ఌ 😮‍💨😅

ఌ You cough violently, pulling back from the straw shoved in your mouth. Vasco pats your back.

ఌ Him: 👁️〰️👁️

ఌ You look up at him dubiously. He returns your stare, completely serious.

ఌ “Sleep on a rock? I’m… okay…” you laugh, trying to keep your face from heating up too much. It feels hot in your cheeks, although to be honest you aren’t one to blush to often around Vasco.

ఌ It’s the thought that counts.

ఌ Vasco walks you home, giving you a piggy-back into your room.

ఌ He insists that he stays. He “needs to ensure they get a good nights rest.”

ఌ You fall asleep with Vasco looming in the corner of your room. You wake up nuzzled into his chest.

𝐆𝐮𝐧

ఌ Out of all the days for you to fall asleep at random, burned out from exhaustion, and having little-to-no self awareness, it had to be today.

ఌ The day you would be out with Gun, driving around the Korean countryside in his sports car.

ఌ You didn’t want to go before… and now you really didn’t want to go now.

ఌ Yet here you are. Miserably smushed into the corner of the passenger seat.

ఌ You rub your eyes to keep them open- even as the warmth of the sunlight lulls you to sleep.

ఌ Driving the car, paying little attention to you, is Park Gun.

ఌ You yawn, and he shoots you daggers 🗡️

ఌ “If you didn’t wanna come you should’ve said so.”

ఌ This is what he’s like when you’re out and about. If you seem tired- it automatically means you’re disinterested. According to him.

ఌ “Well today’s just a bad day. Can we go home now?” You ask grumpily

ఌ He turns to you, eyes shaded by his sunglasses. You can see just a hint of a smile on his lips.

ఌ “That’s where I’m taking you.”

ఌ And as soon as you’re home, he’s a bit more understanding; albeit he continues to be judgmental about the whole thing.

ఌ It’s straight to bed for you. He stands by the door impatiently, the car keys slung on his finger and his jacket hanging off his shoulder.

ఌ Guilt-tripping. Lovely

ఌ Gun watches quietly as you take off your accessories (jacket, shoes) and accepts the sleepy glare you give him

ఌ It wasn’t completely your fault… but this guy had been dragging you around to all the exotic locations in Korea for “kicks”

ఌ Late nights out plus your pile of schoolwork at home hadn’t been coordinating well at all.

ఌ He gestures towards your bedroom, and all you can do is sigh irritably.

ఌ “Look I’m sorry, okay? It’s not my fault that people get tired.”

ఌ “It doesn’t matter to me. Fact is we were supposed to have a date today.”

ఌ You nod your head tiredly, entering your bedroom. You didn’t even catch his next comment: “My proposal was ruined thanks to me being an ignorant boyfriend. So… my bad.”

ఌ You collapse into your bed, Gun’s quiet but snarky comments ringing in your head

ఌ You fall asleep by yourself. You wake up with lofi playing and a glass of water on the bedside table.

ఌ He also left you a note in sloppy handwriting, that read: 丅ᗩᛕᗴ ᑕᗩᖇᗴ ᗝᖴ Ƴᗝᑌᖇᔕᗴᒪᖴ ᔕᒪᗴᗴᑭƳ ᗩᔕᔕ

[gimyeongbestboy]

Hi could I request a prank for vasco, zack, jake, samuel, gun and goo where their s/o randomly joins them in the shower but with clothes on <3

Joining Lookism boys in the shower

Vasco was in the middle of washing his hair. He had his eyes closed so soap can’t get in his eyes. He has his back facing you, and you took it as a good opportunity to prank him. You lightly scratched his back, slowly moving your hands down. Vasco visibly stiffened and a small shriek left his mouth. You quickly and quietly left the shower before he can see you. When Vasco turned his head, there was no one behind him. He turned pale, thinking the mother ghost from J high had come for him.

Zack Lee was practicing pick up lines while in the shower. “Damn baby, are made of copper and tellurium? Cuz you CuTe.” He had his arms crossed, with his chin up and a sleazy smile. You opened the shower curtains and joined him. You replied, “I’m attracted to you, and according to Newton’s law of gravitation, you’re attracted to me too.” Zack was surprised to see you join him in the showers with your clothes on. He stood in front of you with his legs together with his hands covering his dick. After insulting his pick up line, you left the shower leaving him stunned. “Your pick up line is trash. It won’t even make sense unless the compound formula is seen.”

When you hopped in the shower with Jake Kim, he had his back turned while singing some tune. Sneaking in the shower with your clothes on was very easy. You kissed his back and smacked his ass— hard. Jake was so surprised of your sudden appearance. Like Zack, he also tried to cover his private part. Hugging Jake you told him, “Your ass is so peachy, no wonder you’re always so sweet.” Jake hugged you back and said, “Well, it is the part of my body I’m most proud of.” You guys just stood there hugging each other having a moment— with you soaking wet.

When you joined Samuel Seo in the showers, he was grabbing his soap. He halted his movements, when he heard your footsteps getting closer. Whenever you join him in the showers, he’s no longer surprised because you often do it. This time however, he has his eyebrow raised upon your arrival. You hopped in the showers wearing a full on channel outfit. After seeing you, Samuel just went back to showering.

Park Jong Gun showers way too fast. You tried to join him once, but before you can even do so he’s already done. You were going to open the shower curtains, only for it to be opened for you. He takes one of those 3 minutes military showers.

Kim Joon Goo is a 50-50 type of person. He’s either going to enjoy you suddenly joining him or not. Sometimes he wants alone time in the showers. It’s a weird habit that he has. He wants alone time in the showers, but not when he’s outside the showers. When he’s in the showers, he connects his phone to the speaker and plays music. He has a speaker especially just for his bathroom; that speaker, never leaves the bathroom. Joon Goo likes to pretend he’s in some kind of kdrama every time he’s in the shower. When he gets into a character, he really GETS INTO IT. He creates some kind of scene in his head and do a one man show. He was in the middle of his over dramatic one man show when you suddenly yelled, “CUT.” He didn’t appreciate you inviting yourself in his show. He claims that dress rehearsals are still needed before public showcase.

[wlfbraind]

finally made sort of a reference sheet for slade (with shading because it looked wonky to me without it. sorry)

and his bio is under the cut! I'm still working on/updating it as I go, but here it is so far :-)

Name: Slade Thunderbolt

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Gay

DOB: October 31st

Birthplace: Queens, New York

Height: Five foot eleven

Status: Alive

Occupation: Death metal vocalist and bassist

Nicknames: Stormy (More of a stage name)

Ethnicity: Chilean

Family: Alondra Thunderbolt (Mother), Vasco Thunderbolt (Father), Anya Thunderbolt (Older sister), Valeria Thunderbolt (Younger sister)

Pets: Two cats, Slash and Judith

Looks:

Long, semi-curly black hair that goes to mid-back length

Streak in hair is a poorly dyed platinum blond; has a black strand of hair that falls to the side of his face with an accidental dyed part of blonde at its roots

Below ear sideburns

Brown-yellow eyes; normally wears eyeliner

Eyebrow piercings on either side, gauges and two lobe piercings, two crossing industrial in right ear, and a navel piercing

Has fangs and a split tongue

Beauty marks on face, and misc ones on back/shoulders

Crooked smile, similar to Pickles’s :)

Has two tattoos: Lightning bolt tattoos over his top surgery scars, and a lightning bolt design on his lower back

Nails either painted all black, or in an on/off black and white pattern

Outfits:

Default

V-neck black crop top, studded collar and a studded bracelet to match on either wrist, misc rings, studded belt with a plain silver belt buckle, black jeans tucked into mid-calf height boots with studded buckles (can you tell this dude likes studs)

Formal

Hair tied back into ponytail, fancier looking eyeliner, black blazer with cropped black button up, double whole grommet belt and black pants, small black boots, lobe piercings have small silver hoop earrings, plain silver rings

Casual

Just a black tank top and skull pattern sweatpants.

Personality:

Slade is genuinely good-natured and enjoyable to talk to. Although he’s not the greatest with emotions, he actually tries his best to understand who he’s with. He’s surprisingly observant, and is very sharp-witted and blunt, either for better or for worse. He’s somewhat intimidating at first glance, especially considering that he accidentally glares at people. A lot.

When performing, Slade has more of a cocky and suave persona that can be taken as too obnoxious; it doesn't last for too long, though, as it is draining for both him and whoever he’s interacting with. Sometimes he doesn't know when to put it off, as he thinks only the persona is what people want him for. This can also lead him to pull stunts that spawn from him being too cocky. Apart from this, he is more awkward, quieter, and somewhat poised, but for the most part he still runs on charisma.

History:

Slade grew up having a rocky relationship with both his sisters, and was fairly distant from both of his parents; overall he mostly slipped by unnoticed. He was quiet and mostly drew to pass the time. As he continued, Slade wrote to go along with these drawings. Eventually his writing became lyrics, and throughout middle/highschool, he picked up the guitar. His interest soon turned to bass instead, and he also began practicing vocal growls whenever he could (and very unprofessionally at that, as which somewhat messed up his voice). When going to college, he decided to go the entertainment manager route. There he met Charles, and they went on to have a very close friendship. Unfortunately, after graduating, they drifted and didn't have the time to talk (and unbeknownst to Slade, this was also as Dethklok began to enter Charles’s life).

A while later, Slade had met future bandmates Fabien Stix, Skullcrusher, and Christina “Chris” Fireball. The three of them were early fans of Dethklok when they were newly famed, and had formed a small tribute band (this happened before the ban mentioned in Tributeklok had taken place). The tribute band had its small spurt of slight popularity, but didn’t last too long. Slade wanted to try and make a name for himself, instead of hiding behind his favorite band. He went to make his own band, while using his nickname “Stormy”, with Fabien, Skullcrusher and Chris still staying to back him up as his drummer and guitarists.

However, the way he gained traction with his band was less than desirable for him, as he noticed people bringing Dethklok signs/banners to his concerts. Either they thought it was a low budget Dethklok ripoff, or were still fans from the tribute band. As he noticed this happening more, he began publicly challenging Dethklok to come down to one of his concerts, so the fans would get what they wanted. With the insistence on this, though, he also gained negative traction. Multiple crazed fans threatened and attempted to kill him, thinking that he was a threat to challenge Dethklok.

Dethklok themselves hadn’t heard of Slade until he had appeared on the Dethklok Minute. Instead of accepting or taking note of any of his challenges, they noticed the Dethklok signs in the crowd. They got annoyed, thinking that he was taking a percentage away from their sales, and began angrily complaining to Charles. In realizing that he knew Slade personally in the first place, and wanting to get the band to stop complaining, Charles suggested that he would get Slade to Mordhaus to “discuss business inquiries”.

Tremendously excited when Charles had reached out to him, Slade forced himself to keep this excitement bottled up so that he wouldn't come across as a fan, considering Dethklok’s opinion on them. Instead, when interacting with the band at first, Slade came across as a bit too excessive. Charles took notice of Slade acting off when talking to the band, and tried reasoning him out of it, knowing that he’s normally not like that. Or at least used to not be.

[haledamage]

@queen-scribbles I'm holding onto the ask until I finish the other one ;)

petrichor - the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of dry weather ❤ Nadia/Kurt (pre-relationship but well into the mutual interest phase) featuring Vasco bringing some big brother energy

---

"Oh good! Looks like the rain stopped." Vasco announced with an unnecessary amount of drama as they stepped out from under the tree canopy and into a clearing. There was no way to tell how much of the “rain” that had been soaking them for the last hour was fresh and how much had just taken its time getting to them through the thick foliage. "I guess we don’t have to sleep in the mud tonight after all."

Nadia patted him on the arm in commiseration as she moved past him to scale the stone outcropping they were hoping would be dry enough to camp on for the night. "Sorry to disappoint you, Vasco."

He took her proffered hand and let her help him up the wall. "I’m sure we’ll find some dark grungy cave tomorrow and you can make it up to me."

She chuckled as he surveyed their would-be campsite with a scowl, looking a bit like an angry, tattooed, half-drowned rat. "You really hate being landlocked, don’t you?"

"In some ways, it’s not as bad as I expected." He took his hat off and flipped it over, dumping water onto his boots. "In others, it’s much worse."

He stomped off to get a fire started as she helped the rest of their group up too, except Siora who left with a nod to go hunting. Kurt went last, as he always did, making sure the others didn't fall and wordlessly refusing any help for himself.

Once everyone was up, Nadia took her hat off too and shook the water off the brim. It had made a valiant attempt at keeping her head dry, and while it had succeeded in keeping the rain out of her face, her hair was damp and heavy. She took the hat between her teeth to free up both hands and started disassembling her braid.

“Let me help you with that.” Before she could reply, she felt rough fingers gently push her hands away as Kurt started to unpin the braid from its crown. She stood still and let him work. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped with it - he was surprisingly good at braiding hair, though she’d been sworn to secrecy about that fact - and she trusted him to know what to do.

She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it, a smile growing on her face as she breathed in the scent of the clearing they’d chosen to camp in. Petrichor lingering from the earlier rain, sweetness from nearby wildflowers, woodsmoke from the campfire, worn leather and steel from the man at her back, a whiff of the ocean that told her Vasco lingered somewhere nearby. Teer Fradee was alive around her, joyfully so, and she reveled in it.

“I’ve missed that smile of yours, Green Blood,” Kurt said softly, bringing her out of her reverie. Nadia turned towards him enough to see his face without disrupting what he was doing, and he paused long enough to brush his knuckle over the corner of the smile in question. “Haven’t seen you smile like that since your mother got sick. This place has been good for you.”

Her smile grew even more. “Less the place and more the company, I think.”

“Well, I know you don’t mean me.” He finished unplaiting her hair and ran his fingers through it a few times, both to wring some of the water out of it and as an excuse to avoid her eyes. “You had me then too.”

“Not like I do now.” He’d always been good at keeping her at arm’s length, friendly but not quite friends, especially the last few years. But that had changed since they’d boarded the ship to Teer Fradee, and seemed to change a little more every day.

“Perhaps.” His brow knotted as he considered her words, like he was trying to find a hidden meaning behind them. She couldn’t tell if he liked the implications or not.

“If it helps ease that furrow in your brow, I can’t give you all the credit.” She reached up and swept her thumb over his brow, smoothing away the frown only for it to be replaced by surprise, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s this island. I never in my wildest dreams would have pictured that a place like this existed in the world.” She paused, tapping her chin, and her smile sharpened to a wry grin. “Well, maybe in my really wild dreams. I do have a very active imagination.”

Kurt chuckled, a warm rasp of sound. “You really know how to ruin a moment, Nadia.”

“It was worth it to make you laugh.” Nadia had to fight to keep her footing, unsure if she wanted to shy away from the way he looked at her then or lean closer to bask in it. “I’ve missed your laugh. I thought you’d left it in Sérène.”

“So did I.” His hand finally stilled in her hair but didn’t fall away, resting carefully on the back of her head. “You’ve always been good at bringing it out of me.”

“My dear Kurt, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She meant for it to be playful, but it came out barely above a whisper.

He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Give me time. I can do better.”

A loud groan sounded from nearby as Vasco lowered himself to a log that he’d claimed as a chair. Nadia and Kurt leapt away from each other simultaneously. She met the Naut’s innocent grin with the best glare she could muster, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t let me interrupt. As ye were.”

Kurt mumbled, “I should go see to the tents,” and left, not looking at either of them. If Nadia didn’t know better, she could swear that his ears and the back of his neck were a little red.

“Sorry, Nadi,” Vasco lied. “Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“Yes you did,” she grumbled, pouting childishly as she flopped down on a log of her own. She opened her bag to find her collection of herbs and dried mushrooms, hoping to get something going for dinner and also trying not to let her eyes follow Kurt across camp. She could still feel the echo of that last touch against her cheek.

And she could tell by his smug smirk that Vasco knew it. “Maybe a little. Might want to take that outside the camp next time, if you don’t want an audience. Just say you’re goin�� for a walk. Works every time.”

Nadia struggled to maintain a proper pout as her smile broke through. “Well, I was going to take you to some hot springs tomorrow that Siora told me are nearby, but I don’t think you deserve a hot spring anymore, dear Captain.”

“I beg your forgiveness, Your Excellency,” he teased, dipping into as deep of a bow as he could while sitting down. “Next time I just won’t let ye know I’m watchin’.”

Kurt turned back toward the fire at the sound of Nadia’s laughter, watching her light up with it, smile wide and easy, eyes bright, hair falling in gentle waves down her back. He committed the image to memory along with the warmth that bloomed in his chest from the sight, then turned back to his work.

[trulycertain]

[A little idea for a role-reversal De Sardet/Vasco AU that I'll probably never write more of, but it was fun to play with. About 1k.]

Paz has prepared everything – at least, she thinks she has, and there’s nothing more she can do until Captain Neves says they’re ready for the off – and she’s sitting half-dozing on a crate when she hears the word “Naut” a few feet away, echoing off harbour walls. Said in the sort of posh tones that make her sigh internally, because she knows it’s going to be nothing good. She lifts the brim of her hat to expose an eye, which she half-cracks open.

“Are you scared the big, bad Nauts will hunt you down while you sleep? Bundle you up and ink your face and send you off to sea?” someone says, in the jeering tone that instantly tells her little shit, and also family. Either crew, or a sibling.

“I never said I was frightened,” the little shit’s companion grumbles. “Leave it, Bastien. They’ll hear us.”

The voices are round a corner, in the alley before you reach the port. She settles in, and hopes that her place in a corner by the cargo will mean she isn’t spotted. She’s bound to see them in a moment, anyway, rate they’re walking.

Little shit – Bastien digs in further, clearly smelling victory. “How can I leave it, when you’re going to be trapped on a ship with them for four months? Will you launch yourself into the sea to avoid them?”

Oh. Oh by the tides no. She hopes that they’re about to wander onto another ship, but she’s seen the ledger and she knows that there’s a Bastien D’Arcy boarding the Arrow. And his brother, actually. A brother who’s apparently got no love for Nauts. Fantastic. Might as well drown her with the afternoon tide, get it over with now. She’d have a damn sight more fun. Tír Fradí is one of her favourite crossings – or least favourite, depending on how heavy the stone talisman round her neck and the mark at her jaw feel on any given day – and it’s going to be tainted by being stuck with idiots for passengers.

“I’d do it to avoid you,” his companion sighs, and she bites back a smile despite herself.

“You wound me!” Bastien says, with the sort of stupid extravagance that comes with clutching his chest. It makes him sound like even more of a dainty than he is. “Here I thought you loved me.”

“I’m running off to an island with you,” the other responds, in a dry drawl, like the point’s obvious.

“You’re doing that for the money,” Bastien retorts, with an edge of something less fond in it.

“I thought that was you. I’m just looking after it for you.” Still dry, unperturbed, like he has to put up with this a lot. She’d feel sorry for him if she couldn’t almost sniff the perfume coming off him already, with an accent like that and that tired forbearance that comes from dinner parties.

The nobles finally turn the corner. They both have their hair tied back for practicality and she suspects if she squints that she’d confirm they have the same nose, but there are differences. One’s shorter, darker, and the other’s fairer-haired and leggy - could probably stand taller than her, which isn’t a guarantee with a fair few men. The leggy one’s carrying a sack over his shoulder, and frowning at his brother. They both look like… well, nobles, especially the latter. Fine-boned, in the limbs and the sharp lines of his face. Skin that hasn’t seen the sun overmuch, and a dainty little mole, probably drawn on. Cheekbones you could cut yourself on and eyebrows that look made for a frown. The other’s similarly pale and bony, but longer-faced and less austere – younger, she can tell by the look of it. And the hint of a swagger. The gait rings a bell, faintly; she might have seen him in a tavern somewhere.

Their eyes skate over her and straight past, of course. Port, Nauts; she’s far from the only one hanging about, waiting for the last call to the crew.

The fair one says, “You’re sure you took the second ledger?” She was right; definitely made for slightly annoyed concern, those brows.

The dark one – Bastien, then – snorts. “I’d rather have burned the thing. But yes, I made sure, to stop you looking at me like that.”

The second one hms, in a tone that’s familiar to her from enough tired lieutenants and You’re sure you accounted for every lantern? No. Go round again. But he seems to give up, and there’s the hint of a sigh.

Bastien puts a hand to his brow, and squints in completely the wrong direction. “Where on earth is the damn captain?”

“They said she’d be waiting by the ship,” the other says, long-sufferingly. “Which should be over…” He gestures with a sharp tilt of his head. “There.” At least he got it right.

They pass her, maybe ten feet away, and she hears Bastien say, “Couldn’t she at least come and meet us, in this heat? Send one of her sailors?”

“They’re probably preparing the ship,” the other says. “There was a lot of cargo.”

That there was. She can’t say she remembers it fondly. Seven damn pairs of court shoes alone, and it had turned out those weren’t for being sold.

“Don’t say it like that,” Bastien says.

“Like what?”

“Accusingly.”

She peels herself off the crate and starts walking, then tries to pass them casually, sticking to the shadows. Partly to give Neves a warning before the idiot-noble cannonball hits. It’s an easy trick, and one of the reasons she tends to idle by the warehouses. Neves is usually glad of it, and Paz is just another Naut among many, usually ignored by the dainties because she’s not wearing a captain’s coat and making introductions.

Except, as she’s passing, the taller one spots her. Even in the shadowed alcove by a warehouse, even with her dark third-mate’s coat. And there’s a questioning frown growing between his brows.

She does the only thing she can do: she tips her hat, tips him a half-grin, and keeps going, back to the Arrow. At the pace they’re going, and the fact they’ll have to speak to the harbourmaster, she’ll make it a good two minutes before they do.

[ragingbookdragon]

More Heart-Racing Than Hurricanes

Vasco x De Sardet

Word Count: 2.2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Drinking

Author’s Note: Who else got pissed that we didn’t get a group celebration or anything in the game? Just me? Oh well. Enjoy! -Thorne

           He’d never seen De Sardet intoxicated, not on the Seahorse when they were crossing, nor at the massive party they had when they’d arrived on Teer Fradee. Hell, even when they’d gone to the taverns and ordered a few rounds, the Legate managed to keep up with Kurt, and still retain enough capability to have a sober conversation with Petrus about court politics. De Sardet could apparently hold his liquor with the best of ‘em, and Vasco was determined to see just what the man’s limit was. Question was, how was he going to do it? Luckily enough, Vasco gaining Cabral’s loyalty back was the perfect opportunity to invite everyone out for drinks.

***

           “Cheers!” De Sardet beamed, raising his whiskey glass. “To our very own Captain Vasco! A good man, a damned good sailor, and now more Naut than ever!”

           The said captain couldn’t help the bubbling in his chest as the group raised their tankards and wine glasses, all directing grins and congratulations his way. Especially De Sardet. The twinkle in the Legate’s eyes made Vasco’s heart beat a little faster every time he remembered just how close they’d been getting.

           Vasco pulled his tricorn down a bit to hide the slight embarrassment he felt and smiled at them. “Thank you. All of you.” He glanced at De Sardet and gave him a bashful grin. “Especially you, De Sardet. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your help.”

           The man let out a snort as he set his whiskey glass down. “Sure you could’ve.” He uncorked the alcohol and poured another round for himself and Kurt. “Not as stylishly though.”

           “You just can’t help but pat yourself on the back every chance you get, huh De Sardet?” Vasco teased and the Legate shrugged, looping an arm around Kurt’s shoulders.

           “Well, my dearest Master-At-Arms stopped flattering me the second day he met me, so I have to do it myself.” De Sardet gestured to himself before knocking back the burning liquid. “Someone’s gotta appreciate all this, and none of you are doing it.”

           Aphra huffed a laugh, readjusting her seating so she could place her boots on the table—an action that made Petrus frown.

           “That’s because your head’s already too big, De Sardet. Any bigger and it’s liable to explode,” she ribbed, all of them breaking into laughter when the man placed a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

           “Me? Have a big head? Oh, perish the thought! I’m as humble as humble pie.”

           “More like pretentious pie, Green Blood,” Kurt cracked, chuckling when he pouted.

           De Sardet groaned and leaned over, all but collapsing onto Vasco and whined, “Do you see how our loving friends treat me, Vasco? Like I’m a prickly cactus they don’t want to be around,” he bemoaned and the Naut merely gazed in amusement at him.

           “Well,” Vasco drawled out. “You’ve certainly got the prick part right.”

           At that, De Sardet sat up straight, jaw dropped as pure, unbridled shock spread across his face. The table exploded around them, and even Vasco was practically giggling.

           “I can’t believe that you’ve thrown your lot in with them!” De Sardet exclaimed, the wooden seat beneath him scratching the cobblestone floor as he stood up. “Bartender!” he yelled. “I need a bottle of brandy! My companions have left me a ruined man!”

           De Sardet swiped the bottle from the counter, replacing it just as quickly with a pouchful of clinking, golden coins. “I’m now going to drink my sorrows away. If I don’t make it back to the bar, assume I’ve achieved my plans and lay two tokens upon mine eyes for the ferryman.”

           The bartender rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped him all the same, and when the Legate slunk back into his seat, Petrus said, “All the same, still a remarkable young man, child.” His eyes took on a humorous tone as he quipped, “But you’ve grown into quite the dramatics in that time.”

           Moaning, De Sardet uncorked the bottle and took a swig. “Tonight, is supposed to be the celebration of Vasco’s completion of earning Cabral’s loyalty back.” He sent a rather withering glare at the group, though his voice held no heat. “So why have we decided to turn this into a ‘Let’s see who can tear De Sardet a new one’ competition?”

           They broke into laughter once more and De Sardet passed Vasco the bottle. The Naut reached out to took it, fingers brushing against the Legate’s, and he fought hard to ignore how his heart skipped a beat. But when De Sardet didn’t let go of the bottle, Vasco arched an eyebrow at him.

           “Congratulations Vasco,” De Sardet murmured, eyes narrowing fondly, a twinge of sadness in them as well. “I’m really proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

           Vasco gave him a tight smile, hoping the tension wasn’t on his face. “Thank you De Sardet. It means a lot.”

           He merely winked in return, letting the bottle go to watch the captain take his own swig. After the third, De Sardet reached over and snatched it back.

           “Alright, that’s my bottle. Go get your own to drown your sorrows in,” he griped, nursing the bottle to his chest. Vasco simply huffed and took the bottle of whiskey beside him.

***

           Three hours of nonstop drinking and eventual drunken carousing eventually meant that the group had to leave. Which in their defense, Kurt wouldn’t stop getting into bitchfits with other mercenaries—of course it wasn’t necessarily over Kurt’s ability, there was no question about that, more so it was over his job as a so called, ‘glorified babysitter’. After the fifth knockout, the bartender made them leave.

           Petrus seemed to be the only one who wasn’t absolutely hammered and offered to see both Aphra and Síora off safely to their rooms and Kurt mentioned something about checking in with Manfred. Which left Vasco and De Sardet, who was neither drunk nor seemed to be in any form other than his normal one.

           They took a leisurely pace back towards the residence, a calming quietness between them. Of course, Vasco was irked with himself as he’d not been able to make De Sardet drink enough to see the man buzzed. He really seemed to have no limit when it came to alcohol consumption. Perhaps he’d try the undiluted liquor the Nauts made. Maybe that would actually do something? Maybe it would—

           “Are you constipated or something?”

           The question was so out of the blue that Vasco completely halted in his steps, craning his neck to look up at the Legate next to him who wore a curious expression.

           “I—beg your pardon?” Vasco puzzled and De Sardet nodded at him.

           “Your face.”

           “What about my face?” the Naut muttered, unconsciously brushing against the new tattoos he’d received the day or so before.

           “You’re making the same face that you did when I called your vessel a boat.” He made the said face and De Sardet grinned, waggling a finger at him. “Yeah, that one right there. I was wondering if you were constipated because you look upset.”

           Vasco blinked at him, simply staring for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know where to start on that, De Sardet.”

           “Well, I mean I’d go for a yes or a no on the constipa—”

           “I’m not constipated!” Vasco snapped, feeling flustered when the Legate smirked at him.

           “Oh? So, you’re upset about something then?” He knocked his shoulder against Vasco’s. “Wanna talk about it?”

           They started on their way again, coming down the stairs that led into the main square.

           “It’s not that I’m upset,” Vasco murmured. “It’s just…”

           De Sardet stopped. “It’s just?”

           To hell with it. “Do you ever get drunk, De Sardet? Because I watched you put enough liquor away to make even the most seasoned drinker look like a beginner.”

           The Legate’s face pulled in confusion and he questioned, “Wait. You’re telling me the reason you look upset is because you can’t figure out why I’m not drunk? Really?”

           Vasco’s neck sunk into his shoulder sand he muttered, “Well when you put it that way, it seems foolish.”

           “Hardly,” De Sardet chuckled, making his way up the wooden ramp of the statue to sit against the base. Vasco followed, stopping just in front of him.

           “I won’t say it takes much to get me drunk,” he admitted, making the Naut scoff in disbelief.

           “You’re joking. I watched you down two bottles of straight brandy and whiskey, and then more than a few tankards with Kurt. If that’s not much, I don’t know what is.”

           De Sardet waved him down and Vasco sat next to him, their shoulders brushing together.

           “Honestly, as a magic user, it’s quite hard for me to actually get intoxicated,” he explained, then held up a finger. “Now, if I were to drink undiluted alcohol, that might be another story.”

           His wrist and hand shimmered with a flow of black and silvery magic, and Vasco could feel the pulsing through his own body.

           “Truth be told, I don’t actually allow myself to become intoxicated outside of my own home.”

           “Why not?” Vasco asked, genuinely intrigued.

           De Sardet turned his face to the Naut and replied, “There are threats everywhere, especially at night. Never know when those threats might come at you after a night of drinking.”

           He reclined his head, eyes cast up to the stars. “I choose to be the one who remains sober so that I can stop a problem before it happens.” He tipped his head slightly. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to any of you because I wasn’t of a mind to protect you all.”

           Suddenly Vasco felt a bit foolish and he looked at his hands to avoid looking at De Sardet.

           “Oh,” he simply murmured. “And here I thought that you were just impervious to alcohol.”

           De Sardet chuckled lowly, turning his eyes back to Vasco. “Is that why you kept pushing drinks at me? Hoping that you’d see me in rare form?”

           “Aye,” the Naut admitted and the Legate shrugged.

           “I guess I could’ve let go for the night, but old habits are hard.”

           Vasco turned his head, now facing De Sardet. “What are you like when you’re drunk?”

           “Pfft,” he snorted. “Obnoxious and flirtatious.”

           “Oh ho? So just like when you’re sober?”

           De Sardet cocked a brow, looking rather amused with himself. “I’m going to outright ignore the agreement of being obnoxious in favor of the latter.” He placed his elbow on the base of the statue and leaned forward, enough that they were almost nose to nose.

           “You think I’m flirtatious?” he purred and if there was ever a face of exasperation come alive, it was on Vasco’s face.

           “Me and everyone who’s ever met you.”

           “Ouch,” De Sardet grinned. “And here I thought you liked my flirtations.”

           “I never said I didn’t,” Vasco countered coolly, despite the fluttering in his chest.

           One of the Legate’s finger’s twitched, brushing a piece of stray hair from the Naut’s face. “Something tells me that you like being in the middle of storms, Vasco.”

           “Depends on the type.”

           “Hmm…I’m thinking something much more heart racing than hurricanes.”

           Vasco’s arched a brow, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Oh? And what could possibly be more heart racing than twenty-foot waves crashing into the deck of your ship? Death at every turn, certain with even one misstep? Is there something more exhilarating than that?”

           De Sardet hand shifted, gently, but firmly taking Vasco’s chin in his hand. He smirked when the Naut’s breath caught. His thumb traced along the raised lines along Vasco’s skin.

           “I can think of a few things,” he purred. “Though if we tried them here, we’d get in a great deal of trouble.” Brushing against the bottom of the Naut’s lip, he hinted, “Perhaps we should try them some place where we’ve more privacy?”

           Vasco’s tongue felt so heavy and like he’d swallowed cotton, he swallowed thickly, stuttering, “I—I—”

           Nothing seemed to come out and as tongue-tied as he was, he knew he wouldn’t manage anything either.

           Which is why when De Sardet’s face shifted into a look of seriousness and his hand started to shift, Vasco’s own reached up, catching it in a firm grasp.

           “I’m not saying no,” he blurted out. “I just��” Vasco took a deep breath. “I’m buzzed myself. And if we do this, I don’t want to be—I want to remember the night,” he finally decided and De Sardet nodded.

           “I understand,” he smiled before taking a deep breath. “That being said, I do think it’s high time we both found our way to our respective bedrooms.” De Sardet clambered to his feet, extending a hand to Vasco, who took it. “We do have a long day tomorrow.”

           “God De Sardet,” Vasco started. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to march us halfway across the island.”

           De Sardet chuckled. “Not halfway.”

           “Thank God. I was afraid I’d be hungover—”

           “Just a quarter.”

           “Oh, fuck you.”

           “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Vasco?”

           “You are incorrigible. Incorrigible and terrible.”

           “Thanks!”

[galactic-space-noodle]

So I was tagged by @alaiis33 which is awesome cause I’ve never been tagged in something like this before!

Rules: Answer 17 questions & tag 17 people you want to get to know better

Nickname: I don't really have one but my name has been abbreviated to Charl before

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Height: 5′6″

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Last Thing I Googled: "Julia Gillard misogyny speech” I’d somehow gone without hearing this until a flatmate mentioned it to me. Absolutely iconic. She roasted the leader of the opposition like a portobello mushroom and legend has it he’s still applying aloe vera gel to those burns today.

Song Stuck in my Head: Some Nights by fun. (no idea why honestly)

Following and Followers: Following 353 and followed by 26. I never post anything original so I can’t even comprehend 26 to be honest.

Amount I Sleep: Oh damn what a question. I basically can’t sleep until I’m so exhausted I’m about to pass out, and then I tend to sleep for about 12-20 hours. No shit this was horrendous in school but now I’m at uni I just sleep whenever and do all my lectures online. Still not great but definitely not so bad anymore.

Lucky Numbers: I have a whole ass thing with numbers (especially specific times). First of all the only valid numbers are 1,2,3,5 and then any multiples of 5 (and out of those some are more valid than others). The only exceptions are pi (3.14... which I have memorised to 60 decimals for no discernible reason) and nice round numbers like 314,111,222,1234 etc. you get the vibe. I absolutely vibe at times like 11:11 and 22:22 and will only start a task/change what I’m doing if it’s at a “round” time (half past is best, quarter past/to is second best etc.) I sound like an absolute nutjob but yup that’s it.

Dream Job: Oh damn another loaded question. I’ve always wanted to be a vet but switched my university choice to biology at the last minute because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go into research or vetmed. I really love my course and I’d love to go into research but something about working with animals still calls to me so I might do a postgrad veterinary degree after my masters of bio......

Favorite Songs: It’s too hard to decide, I listen to like 5 songs on repeat for a month and then move on to a new set! In general I listen to a lot of Italian music from my ma (Vasco Rossi especially), lots of older music (Queen absolutely slaps) and a whole lot of indie, emo and rock. Basically it’s all over the place and I really don’t have great taste.

Favorite Instruments: Violin, piano and voice (the three instruments I’m vaguely competent in lol).

Random Fact: I have a connective tissue disorder which means I have some cool ass party tricks going including dislocating my shoulders and wrapping my arms round my head and letting my lazy eye go off on one.

Favorite Authors: J.R.R. Tolkien (a legend), Christopher Paolini (now that I’m older I can see the Inheritance Cycle isn’t great but it holds a special place in my heart), and Primo Levi (If This is a Man/ Se questo è un uomo is the most profound book I’ve ever read and it genuinely changed me as a person).

Favorite Animal Noises: Any noise a cat makes (especially purring), the moos of the cows outside my window at uni, and the screaming of foxes outside at night (it fills me with terror every time but for some reason reminds me of home).

Aesthetic: Baggy button up shirts and corduroy. Walking barefoot on grass and feeling the sunlight on your face. Working to make everything you need for yourself and living free from the rat race of society. Basically just cottagecore I guess. (Not that you’d think that to look at me - eyebrow cuts, shaved sides and constantly changing coloured hair)

So... I don’t really have any mutuals on here but I guess I’ll tag @all-hail-the-kazoo @keyofcsharpminor @loquaciousliterature @liquidisedfish

That’s a far cry form 17 and I don’t know you guys but have fun I guess!

[made-me-deep-blue]

choices secret Santa - give you the world (m!hunter x mc)

To the beautiful @aloehasrose, I’m your secret Santa this year! I hope you love this fic as much as I did writing it as I tried my very best to include as much of the things that you prefered within my comfort zone x

Based on the song ‘Give You The World’ sung by Jessica Karpov from the anime ‘Carole and Tuesday’! Hope you like it <3

Props to @andi-the-cat for hosting this secret Santa! Lots of love baby xoxo

-

Camille liked silent nights.

Something she’d favoured and preferred whilst growing up. A night where it was only just her and nature.

With fate having its own plans, Camille didn’t have much time to take a breather, something that she pretty much enjoyed while she was still ‘trapped’ at the library with her horrendously, dry job. Thank goodness the library had collections of romance novels to keep her company.

The lady stared at her wine glass for a moment, before scoffing and shaking her head, laughing to herself. “Thank goodness this is something I poured out myself. I think I’m going to be staying away from wine, any kind really, from now on.”

“A wise choice, my lady.”

The male voice intruding her seemingly silent night made her choke on her drink. 

Camille didn’t let the anger and annoyance rise so quickly, however. After getting her body back (thank the gods) from the hallucinations and terrible symptoms that the god-damned Cantarella was giving her, she felt like needed to...sink into the feeling of having her emotions and her body, really, in control. 

But that felt way out of her league at the moment. She felt like she couldn’t bring herself to display some good emotions and attitude.

So Camille spun on her heel, shooting King-Regent Hunter Fierro an icy glare from where he was leaning against the doorframe.

“First of all, I’m even surprised dear Vasco didn’t even intervene in your timely visit, Your Regency,” Camille drawled. “Second of all, whatever could you possibly need from my personal sanctuary, Hunter?”

From the way she phrased her words, Hunter immediately raised his hands in silent defence, using one of them to close the door gently behind him. “Pardon the intrusion then, my lady. I just...wanted to check on you. I hope that’s alright with you.”

“Is that your way of flirting with me, Hunter Fierro?”

“H-Hey! I was just being concerned and gravely worried for you, alright? I hope that answer...suffices, Camille,” Hunter looked at the floor sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Camille laughed, a melodious and shimmering sound carrying across the air and into the late night. She waved a dismissive hand in front of her. “I’m just teasing, Hunter. But do be warned, I’m not really in the best mood since you decided to intrude my night alone.”

Camille liked the way the King-Regent acted around her, compared to the very calm and composed, cheeky and flirty demeanour he usually displays whenever he was on his duties at court or during social events where ladies would flock to him like birds. He was always reduced to a puddle of an awkward and dorky mess every time she was around him.

However, given how his twin sister Renza had broken that trust they had formed during their time together, despite not being part of her scheme, Hunter needed to redeem himself as Renza’s twin brother.

Maybe the poison had already eaten too far into her mind and senses that she couldn’t even tell reality and the dream world apart. 

You keep me holding on Bated breath, it's always something

Hunter walked closer, carefully, to be exact. He didn’t want to overwhelm the woman he loved so dearly, especially when she just recovered from the poisoning she didn’t know she had been receiving at all of those social events they were attending the past few weeks. And when it was his sister doing all the dirty work.

“I know with everything going on revolving around my sister and...my House, in general, you still might not trust me,” Hunter’s boots clicked against the polished marble floor. He soon joined Camille at the balcony. “I want to rebuild that trust between us...if you would allow me.”

Camille felt the mood built in the atmosphere, but she couldn’t help tease the King-Regent again. Ah, a true lady of House Rosario, indeed.

“Sure, I’ll consider that proposal, Your Regency,” she mused, with a raised eyebrow. “If you would do the pleasures of having a private dance with me right now. You know, the one that your very lovely, Crown Shield stole from you on the night we first met.”

Baby, you like to play your games Messing with my brain like it's nothing

Hunter then laughed, the manly but yet soothing voice, music to Camille’s ears. “Kayden isn’t usually easily intrigued, mind you. She only pays attention to suspicious people—”

“Oh, so you’re saying that I’m suspicious?” Camille placed a hand on her hip, sipping on her sparkling tonic. “My, my, Your Regency, I might tell dear Kayden tomorrow that I favour her more than the Regent whom she protects, who is also very poor in terms of courtship—”

When you call, I come running right over the edge And I'm falling, mmhmm

As fast as a shooting star, Hunter swept Camille into his powerful and strong arms, tucking his head into the crook of the woman’s neck. Camille felt his fingers lightly pressing into her small of her back, the heat radiating from the pads of his fingers reaching her through the thin fabric of her nightgown, which was doing a fair job of covering her lower half.

“I was going to finish my sentence, Lady Camille,” Hunter murmured into Camille’s skin, causing the woman’s skin to turn pebbled. “And if you’re going to address me by my title again, I’m afraid you won’t have your private dance.”

Camille giggled, unable to keep up with the banter they were having. Her sour mood was getting lighter by the minute, surely improved by the Regent’s presence. She gently pushed Hunter away, hands firm on his chest. “Alright, alright, I’ll cooperate with you.”

She slid her left-hand tentatively up Hunter’s right arm, allowing her hand to rest on his bicep while he brushed his left hand up her back, cupping her left shoulder blade. Camille and Hunter locked eyes while his hand wrapped around hers.

Got me chasing these eight letters, three words, just say it "I'm all in"

“Allow us to start off with a simple box step, shall we?” The question came out softer than intended. Like it was an intimate moment shared between them. 

Camille gladly welcomed that affection Hunter offered.

“Lead the way.”

Don't you know, baby I would give you the world?

With the moon shining gracing her presence onto Cordonia, its silver light seemed to heighten Camille’s beauty, capturing all the intricate features which no ordinary man could ever describe as how Hunter would. The light in her emerald green eyes was like the pearls of the Cordonian seas; he wanted to plunge deep into the depths of those eyes and drown himself into the sea of Rosario green.

But you take it from me

He definitely could not forget the soft, rosy lips that he managed to relish on his very own that night after they had returned to the estate, escaping from The Legacy.

They were now slightly parted before him, their breaths mingling between their close distances.

Hunter hesitated, but looked away, catching Camille’s attention.

“What is it, Hunter?” She asked.

“Are you…” Hunter grumbled to himself, trying to grapple onto the right words. “Can I kiss you?”

Can't you see I would do Oh, everything for you?

Camille’s breath caught in her throat and shyly nodded as her answer. 

I'd steal you the moon, and the sun, the stars, every one If you would just say I'm your girl

Both of them pressed closer together, feeling the heat in their exchanged breaths increase as they met in the centre with a gentle kiss; a promise that neither will break the trust. After they got used to feeling their lips on each other, they kissed with a little more passion, not fervour; a promise to have each other, forever and a day.

I'd give you the world, I'd give you the world, oh-oh

As they pulled apart, Hunter rested his forehead against Camille’s, catching their breaths in this moment. Together. Under the moon and stars. The King-Regent looked into those green eyes again, reflecting Camille’s House’s colour, and admired the light in them. Like a moon up in the sky.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, for whatever that has happened to you, Camille,” Hunter whispered, though Camille thought that she heard his voice crack. “I promise to gain back your trust, no matter what. And then I’ll protect you, with my body and soul, from what fate offers us in her plans. To whatever end.”

Camille squeezed Hunter’s hand, basking in the warmth radiating off his body. “To whatever end?”

“To whatever end, my dearest lady.”

I didn't want no one I was over love, always something

“I’m sorry about losing trust in you though,” Camille said, guilt casting over her eyes. “The poison really ate away into my mind and senses. I couldn’t really distinguish whatever that was real or the hallucinations that I’ve experienced.”

Hunter shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault at all. And as it was mentioned, no one could have known what my sister was up to all this time.”

Baby, you caught me off my guard And held me in your arms Heartbeat pumping

Camille pulled away, looking into Hunter’s brown eyes. Despite it not being in the day, she could see hazel brown under the silver moonlight. “You’re a good person, Hunter. You’re out here as King-Regent, trying to be the best leader out there for the Cordonian people. You may have like an exact carbon copy like you out there scheming for your demise, but what’s important—”

Camille tapped on Hunter’s chest, where his heart lay.

“—is that you are strong, here.”

When you touch me, I melt In your hands like your fire in December, yeah

Hunter laughed, a song to Camille’s ears, as he gathered her in his arms and spun her around in a circle. “Quite a speech, my lady,” he smirked as he pulled apart. “I can’t wait for you to say more of those when you become my Queen.”

“Oh?” Camille raised an impressive brow, a smirk tugging at the end of her lips. She slid her hands up Hunter’s shoulders and cupped the back of his neck. “Bold of you to assume, Lord Fierro. Do you really have whatever it takes to make me your Queen?”

But no matter how close we get You never seem to surrender

Hunter chuckled, a rumble in his chest. “A true lady of House Rosario indeed. Of course, I will do anything in my power as the King-Regent to have you by my side.”

He then positioned themselves back to where they originally were positioned before they were in each other’s arms. “Now, my lady, shall we finish our dance together?”

“Yes, Your—” Camille smiled, feeling looser and better than she was in weeks. “I mean, yes, my lord. We shall.”

Don't you know, baby I would give you the world?  

Their feet carried them across the balcony, back and forth. With Camille and Hunter exchanging elegant moves with little effort. Without care to the world around them, whether it was crashing down and burning or it was the end of the universe, they would forever be together. Right here and now, in each other’s company.

But you take it from me 

Hunter’s eyes did not leave the woman before him, following his moves with quick precision and elegance of a swan. To think that she knew that much whilst being a library scribe before her world seemed to change overnight with a fateful night at the royal masquerade.

He had met Camille’s adoptive older sister, Annalisa, shortly after she awoke from her coma. Indeed, she was also pretty (as do all of the ladies he had come across in his life), but it somehow did not reach the tier of the beauty of how he saw Camille in his eyes.   

Perhaps it did not run in Annalisa’s blood as well.

Can't you see I would do Oh, everything for you?  

“Are you alright, Hunter?” Camille asked. “You’re doing that scary thing where you faze out whilst looking deep into my eyes.”

“Can’t I admire them?” Hunter rebuked, earning a smile from his lady. “Or shall I dance with you blindfolded?”

Camille purposely stepped on Hunter’s boot, causing the Regent to bite his lower lip hard to keep his painful howl of protest in, careful to not draw any unwanted attention to Camille’s chamber. “You’re awfully horrible at flirting, Hunter.”

“Please do know that I am, trying my very best.”

“Visibly so,” Camille chuckled, easily following along as Hunter swept his foot in an arc and brought her low. “You have your dashing looks still, so you do not need to fret.”

I'd steal you the moon, and the sun, the stars, every one If you would just say I'm your girl        

“But my dashing looks are only for you,” Hunter purred, his breaths coming in hot against Camille’s throat as he dipped her. “Why do you think I picked you to dance with that night at the masquerade then?”

Camille turned contemplative. “Maybe...to look for a new prey? Besides, those ladies around you that night were definitely your familiars.”

Hunter grinned smugly as he brought Camille up, pressing her closer into his warm embrace. “How assumptive of you, Lady Rosario.”

I'd give you the world, I'd give you the world, ooh-ooh-ooh  

Hunter held onto the sides of Camille’s waist tight, preparing for a lift. 

From where he stood, seeing Camille’s hair flip as she was raised into the air—    

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh I'm giving you all of my love          

His mouth went dry.

Oh-oh-whoa-oh-oh But boy, it's been long enough, oh Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh     

Camille Rosario was definitely an angel sent from Heaven. It was like she was the embodiment of Aphrodite. Or perhaps even the goddess herself in this human body in his hands.

And when their eyes met in this heat of the moment, Hunter tried his best not to open his hands and drop her onto the ground in awe.

Gods, when did he get so lucky?

Don't you know I would give you the world?

After her feet touched the ground, she spun away from Hunter and then spun right back into his embrace. Next, a twirl, raising up the lady’s arm and conjured her in a spin. Resuming their waltz positioning, they allowed their feet to take them away. To end of their night together.

But you take it from me

Hunter tightened his grip on Camille as he led them, spinning in circles together. That caused the melodious laughter from his dance partner. An angel’s voice.

As he let go and they faced each other, they exchanged a bow and curtsy at the end of their private dance. Hunter then instinctively grabbed ahold of the woman and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

Can't you see I would do Oh, everything for you?

It took everything in Camille to lightly push away Hunter and tapped the tip of his nose playfully before she could let things escalate, ignoring the guttered look in his beautiful eyes.

“No...not today, Hunter,” Camille said. She slowly slid her hand to cup Hunter’s cheek. It felt warm to the touch. Something she needed tonight. “Perhaps...you could hold me tonight?”

She turned away slightly, as if sheepish and guilty of her answer. “...please?” 

The word nearly turned silent on the last vowel, as if from a request turning into a plea, which made Hunter’s heart ache.

I'd steal you the moon, and the sun, the stars, every one If you would just say I'm your girl

Understanding filled Hunter’s eyes. He hooked Camille’s chin with his index finger and tilted it upwards so that he could see her directly, into those lovely, green emeralds he had always admired. From the night they met.

“Yes,” he murmured. He pulled Camille into his well-built, protective arms, allowing her to bask in the warmth of his embrace. 

Hunter took in her scent. A lingering scent of lavender, with a hint of cedarwood, lacing together in perfect harmony. He committed it to memory.

“Anything for you, Camille,” Hunter murmured into Camille’s hair. “Anything.”

I'd give you the world, I'd give you the world, oh-oh, oh-oh

Perhaps not all will be lost, if there were more people like Hunter Fierro, in this gods-damned world.

And everything will be alright.

I'd give you the world

[naut-icallychallenged]

22, 24, 27, 37, 46 for Jules please! ❤❤

22. What kind oftattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such uniquephysical features do they have? Aside from his rather obviousNaut tattoo and his On Ol Menawi mark, Jules has 3 hoops piercedthrough his left ear and one in his right. He also has 3 moles on hisface. One smaller than the other just above his right eyebrow, whilethe third is just off the side of his left eye. He also has a smallscar on his right brow, next to the two moles.Oh and a jagged scar on his left lower ribs.And um doeschest hair count also? It should! Cause that, he has a fairly good covering ofsilvery grey chest hair. :)24. In their own words, howwould your character describe what their lover is like? Vascois strong, beautiful and deadly. What most don't see however is hissweet, shy side that recites poetry and is uncertain, but alwaysincredibly romantic. He's the most amazing man I've hadthe pleasure to meet, who's a wonderful mix of powerful and soft.He's also surprisingly cuddly, but don't tell him I said that. 27.If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the mostlikely reason for it? Starting a bar fight, destroyingproperty and then finishing said fight most likely. He'd only do sowhile either protecting someone's honour or their safety. He has abit of a Hero complex I guess and he gets really pissed off at peoplewho attack other's whether physically or emotionally. So he'd stepin, even when it's none of his business or he doesn't know theperson. But then he'd trash the place AND the people within it. Soyeah. 37. What are some of your character’s petpeeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them?People who chew loudly or with their mouth open for starters.Makes him want to punch them, very hard and also makes him feelslightly nauseous. People who stand or sit too close to him. Hegets very uncomfortable at physical closeness and then irritated. Ifthey breathe too close and he can feel it though, that's a pure ragemoment.Anyone talking over or ignoring him.Someone tellinghim how he feels/should feel or what to do. He seriously hatesthat.Mumblers. Jules says for fucks sake speak properly or notat all!46. What is some random affectionate thing thatyour character always does to their lover?Brushinghis hand over the back of Vasco's neck or occasionally, the small of his back,sometimes even giving a gentle massage. Especially when he justhappens to be passing him. Jules isn't super affectionate themajority of the time, but since they became a couple, he makes it apoint to give his lover some hint of intimacy and a reminder thathe's there and that he does care.~~~~Ahhhhh! Thank you for stopping by Sleepfight!  ❤ These ones were fun and I super appreciate it! I need to get around to asking other people things too. ❤       ps 46 was probably my fav to do. I’ve always had this image of those moments in my head and it was lovely to be able to write it down and share it!

[rycewrites]

lookism rant #1

so... it’s spring break. and i’ve spent the entire break doing what any smart ap student would do: ignoring my five looming ap tests and draining my phone battery by looking at webtoons and instagram. since most of my favorite webtoons are on hiatus, i have resolved to rereading my favorites, and one that i’ve reread the most so far is lookism. as spring break comes to a finish in two days, i decided to get my life back on track and instead of simply rereading the comic, i will rant about my most and least favorite characters starting with the fandom’s all-time favorite character (yes, if you check the wiki for lookism there is a poll and it is fact that he is the majority’s favorite), jay hong/hong jae yeol. (also, note that these are my opinions so if you disagree with them don’t be offended but i would be happy to hear other people’s opinions on the webtoon! please comment who would be on your list because i need to talk to more people who read lookism!)

top favorite characters~

1. jay hong/hong jae yeol:

let’s just list off reasons why everyone loves him: he is well-dressed (even plans out other people’s outfits), generous (gives daniel literally everything he wants), selfless (he fricking took in enu’s pups even though he is scared of dogs), RICH (main reason for kouji’s admiration), strong (manz uses his systema well), and CAN RIDE A MOTORCYCLE (yes, i love a man who can ride a bike). he may not be the most dynamic character, but his static puppy status makes it impossible for me to put him lower on this list. we honestly don’t know that much about his backstory and i am super curious about why his family relationships are so strained (except with his sister, joy). for now, he remains a mystery, but like an attractive mystery. overall, me -> ( ･_･)♡

2. zach lee/lee jin sung:

honestly hated this boi in the beginning because he was a big bully to daniel, but  he has been through some SERIOUS character development. mira was a big part in this but i feel like overall his morals have changed so much even when mira isn’t around. he does still fight often, but now it’s not meaningless violence as he uses his boxing skills to defend his friends (ex: defending johan during the god dogs arc).

i also hated his eyebrows and hair in the beginning of the comic but like that’s personal preference. however, in the last few episodes, his hair looks SO GOOD (reference image above).

he is second on my list of favorite characters because i feel that his development throughout the story has been the most dynamic. he not only changed mentally as he overlooks lookism more (ex: he is not only friends with big daniel but also little daniel) but also physically as he doesn’t simply depend on his inherent talent for boxing but actually goes back and trains again in order to get better (to defend mira >.<)

in the future, i hope to see more development with his relationship with mira and his friends because i hold a lot of high hopes for this boi! ♥‿♥

3. vasco/lee eun tae/tabasco:

BIG CUTIE ENERGY ♥╣[-_-]╠♥! first off, he may not have as much long-term development over the course of the story like zach, but we do see a lot of his development with his own arc and bullying story. he was always a pure boi and his inherent innocence creates a discrepancy with his appearance which makes him more endearing in my opinion. the idea of lookism is very apparent in his character because most people look at him and see him as a gangster or someone very intimidating, but in reality his personality and mindset are very innocent (showing another way that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover). i honestly LOVED the scene in the god dogs arc in which he defended zach and daniel joins in because that friendship is GOLDEN. i love how he always strives to be stronger and more powerful to defeat the evil in the world because it shows that he truly cares about the weaker people and those impacted by lookism. in my opinion, i think that vasco and zach will end up being the most powerful in the story (but that’s my opinion)

4. mira kim/kim mi jin:

pure! cute! sweet! moral! (✿ ♥‿♥)! mira is just an all-around great gal that makes it impossible for me to find flaws with. although she isn’t super major in terms of daniel’s story, she does impact zach significantly and makes him a better person. like she is the sole reason that zach has become a character that i truly admire and like. (although she did think that daniel was the r-word when he tried hitting on her in the beginning of the story. but throughout the story we see that she isn’t really a person to judge people on looks and stuff as we see that she gives jasmine the benefit of the doubt even after the vasco fiasco)

5. yena/eli jang’s (jang hyun’s) daughter:

honestly too cute for words. like the episodes where zach and mira find her are my favorites so i just wanted to include her in my favorite character list. also, she seems to be a character that really impacts other characters (zach and eli really changed for her ಥ_ಥ)

least favorite characters~

park ji ho:

always doing dumb things and making it harder for the people around him. he tries too hard to be a part of the popular group and as zach said, he doesn’t really think of them as friends because he just thinks about what the benefits are for hanging out with daniel and co. i think we all went from being tolerant of jiho in the beginning and then hating him at the end. i especially hated how he kept blaming other people and yet not accepting when people were being friendly. especially during the fake bank account arc, he just brushed off daniel when he asked jiho if he wanted to go to the convenience store then jiho goes running back to daniel and his friends when he realizes his mistake. overall, -123912830/10.

2. james gong:

don’t even know where to start with this punk. very violent for very little reason! i know i stated before that i hate jiho but i still felt kinda bad for him when he realized that james had sold the bank account he made for him. just overall a very intimidating character that hurt zach (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

3. jasmine huh:

needs to get her shit(ake) together. first off, she almost got vasco expelled from the school because of her lies. like big! red! flag! it seems that she really doesn’t care about other people (except james) and is willing to put so many other people at risk to save her own behind. also, i hate how she uses other people. like how she uses mira to make money when mira didn’t do anything wrong ヾ(ﾟдﾟ)ﾉ. i hope she one day realizes that her lies are gonna hurt so many other people and then herself.

4. heemin kim/zeus/creepy dude from the boot camp arc:

sexual assault is a big no in this household. i hate how he thinks that being handsome can defend him of his crimes! also, he broke zach’s arms which made me FLIP OUT. LIKE HOW DO YOU DARE TO HARM MY BOXER BOI. he also attacked mira, an actual angel ლ(ﾟдﾟლ). words can’t describe how much i hate this man but numbers can -> 0/10

5. logan lee/lee tae sung:

big bully energy. he needs to lay his hands off of everyone (especially zoe!). blackmail? big no go in this household. he also dumped his plate of food on mira? BIG NO GO! he needs to get his life together and realize that people don’t hate him because he’s “ugly,” it’s because he has THE WORST PERSONALITY!

6. strong contenders for least favorite: stalker girl, animal cruelty cat mom/hoarder, zoe’s stalker

characters that i need more information about to form stronger opinions about~

vin jin/jin ho bin:

dislike him because he abused enu but also want to know more about him. big bully energy but i feel like he has a deep backstory behind him so i want to know more. why did he quite judo? why does he wear sunglasses? hope he gets over his superiority complex and changes because i feel like he has a lot of potential.

2. eli jang/jang hyun:

so far, very cute and strong is all i have to say about him. also, he is a good dad like that scene where he put out that god dog’s cigarette? MAJOR PROPS TO YOU ELI. i’m very curious about his backstory as well because it seems that he was a contender for gun’s successor but he changed drastically to take care of yena. i also just love a man with good hair sooo…

3. jong gun + joon goo:

i want to know more about these two! like what’s their backstory? why did gun create the 4 big crews? why was goo sent to the juvenile detention center before? (look at vasco’s bullying arc for reference) why did gun leave goo alone with the money collection? overall very mysterious and i want to learn more.

random characters that just deserve appreciation~

crystal choi/choi soo jung:

we stan a strong female character. however, i don’t like how she is immediately prejudiced against handsome men in the beginning of her appearance. i think over time she’ll realize that her prejudice isn’t right and her experience as someone who has to deal with lookism doesn’t justify her immediate judgements. however, we need more female fighters in this story so she is a big yes.

2. duke pyeon:

WE STAN A MAN WHO FOLLOWS HIS DREAMS DESPITE BEING BULLIED AND JUDGED. yes, we stan.

3. daniel park/park hyung suk:

honestly, he’s a great character and all, but i don’t know if he could ever reach favorite character status. i just have a mindset that makes me unable to pick the protagonist as a favorite character because i feel like they are sometimes created specifically to just bring the story together. don’t get me wrong, he’s a great person, defends his friends, and doesn’t fight for no reason, but i feel like there isn’t anything super special about his personality (other than the fact that he has two bodies but like so does crystal). he also looks like kim seokjin in his new body which is a big plus.

4. inu/enu + inu/enu’s pups:

i love dogs

5. mary kim/idk her korean name someone help me:

strong female character? i think yes. honestly such a fav. she doesn’t take sh*t from vin jin and i honestly want to know more about her character and background. *spoiler alert* i read ahead in the korean version and saw that she can beat people up too so like… she’s a bada**.

6. kouji:

as a person interested in computer science, I STAN. i also love a man with good hair. his cocky personality is sometimes off-putting but honestly his confidence is endearing at times. also we both love money!

7. jace park/park bum jae:

during vasco’s bullying story, i was so sad when he left vasco, but i love how he realized that he should’ve been a better friend and has stuck with vasco after all of this time. also love how he listens to vasco and tries to make him happy even when he knows that vasco does some silly things (like planting durian seeds in korea)

8. zoe park/park ha neul:

i love her development! she still fights with herself over whether she should like big daniel or small daniel, which displays her internal conflict with lookism. over time she has stopped judging people solely on their appearance and she is even able to distinguish between daniel and his cousin! (in my opinion, if daniel doesn’t end up with jay he better end up with zoe instead)

9. daniel’s (hyung suk’s) mother:

ICON! WE NEED TO APPRECIATE OUR PARENTS MORE! I AM A BIG STAN! SHE WORKS HARD FOR DANIEL AND IT BREAKS MY HEART WHEN DANIEL DOESN’T REALIZE!

10. song johan:

deserved better. he was just trying to help his mom which makes him so pure! but i feel like he should realize that he has friends (zach and mira) that could help him get through his problems! overall, want to see more of him and i hope he develops even more.

[mint-yooxgi]

[11] - The Forbidden Pool

Wolf AU - Part of the EXO Wolf Series

Genre: Mature, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: EXO OT12 X Reader; Jongdae X Reader

Words: 4,787

A/n: Yay! Here it is, the next part! Personally, I though it would be a little longer, but I'll save the real drama for the next part. Y’all best be prepared for chapter thirteen...*wink wink* I have the next few chapters planned out, so I really hope you enjoy them as much as I will. Feedback is always appreciated, I hope you like it!

Previous ~ Next

The next day passes by fairly quickly, the six that have just been revealed your scent, all pining for your attention. This successfully bothers Jongdae, since every time he’s wanted to spend some alone time with you, one of the others comes and interrupts.

Currently, you’re sitting on the front porch with Mal, discussing plans for a counter attack incase Minwoo and Miranda show up again soon. Vasco sits beside Mal on the porch swing, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as she rests her head on his shoulder. You, on the other hand, pace slightly in front of them, hand holding your chin as you think about what to do.

“I know for sure the next time they come, they won’t be alone,” you say, frown evident on your face.

“Then we should have backup to counter their backup,” Mal comments, eyes closed in content as she rests beside her mate.

“Are you questioning our ability to protect you?” Dylan pokes his head out from the open front door, shooting you a frown.

“No, not at all,” you sigh. “But if he shows up with fifty people under his control, you will be outnumbered no matter what powers you may gain. I will be busy fighting both Minwoo and Miranda again, so I can’t help you all at the same time.”

“You won’t be alone this time,” Jongdae says, walking out of the house and coming to stand beside you on the porch. His hair is still damp from his shower.

“No,” your reply is immediate. “I am not letting Minwoo near any of you again. He is my burden to bear; my enemy to fight.”

“She has a point,” Mal singsongs. “Besides, you’ll all need the backup. I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, and this time the two of you will stay out of it,” you say, turning to narrow your eyes at both Mal and Vasco.

“I promise to keep her in the house this time,” Vasco nods, causing Mal to shoot up from her comfortable position in protest. “No arguments about it.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Mal pouts.

“Normally, yes, but given what happened last time, both Vasco and I would prefer if you stayed out of the battle,” you respond, seeing her frown in understanding as Vasco nods his agreement.

“Okay, that’s all fine and dandy, but who are we going to get as backup?” Dylan asks, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

“I know a few people,” you smirk, turning to look at Jongdae who raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“We’ll have to get the word out as soon as possible then,” Jongdae comments.

“Yeah, I’ll have to gather everybody soon, or at least get in touch with them,” you say, brows furrowing as you think of the best way to contact everybody you need to. “They could actually help with some combat training depending on how early they arrive.”

“Okay, hold up, who and what are you talking about? How many people are we talking? Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to leave?” Dylan voices his concerns, lips pulling down at the corners slightly.

“I could easily transport myself to each of them and tell them where to go,” you answer. “I can protect myself, and with transporting, I wouldn’t be gone for too long.”

“I don’t like it, especially not with everything that has happened in the past few days, and what is still yet to come,” Dylan tells you, voice firm.

“Then I’ll go,” comes Jongdae’s immediate response.

“No,” you counter. “I need you here incase anything goes wrong.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Vasco and I will go,” Mal huffs, tired of listening to the back and forth between all of you. “Just tell us where they all are so we don’t waste time in tracking them all down.”

“Wait, how many people are we talking here?” Dylan inquires.

“Probably about twenty-seven, maybe more, maybe less,” you answer. “It all depends on who shows up and how many they get to in time.”

“So it’s agreed, Vasco and I will gather the troops and bring them back to you,” Mal smirks, already moving to sit up out of her seat and get going.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dylan holds his hand in the air in a stop motion, “hold up, twenty-seven people? Do you really think we’ll need that many?”

“Yes,” you nod once for confirmation. “It’s like I said, we don’t know how many people Minwoo is going to have with him the next time him and Miranda attack. It’s better to have more force than necessary than none at all.”

Dylan sighs, but nods his head in understanding, frown evident on his face.

“Alright, so who are we gathering, and where?” Mal asks, standing up along with Vasco.

Quickly listing off the names, where to find them, and what groups they’re apart of, if any, you send Mal and Vasco mental images of who and what they should look out for. You give them directions, but you know not everyone will probably still be residing in the same place as they last were when you last saw them.

“Here,” you say, quickly hopping down the porch steps and grabbing a small stone from the yard. Muttering a small incantation with your eyes closed, you press the stone firmly held in your fist to your lips. Once done, you let out a long breath and open your eyes, tossing the stone to Vasco who catches it in one of his hands. “Now, if you can’t find one of them, that stone will lead you to them.”

“What do you mean?” Dylan asks, curious to know what you just did.

“Vasco, toss the stone in the air for me please,” you instruct, and he does as told. Immediately, the stone begins to hover in the air. “Now, repeat after me: bring me to… and then say the name of the person or thing you wish to find while picturing them in your mind.”

“Bring me to Mal,” comes Vasco’s immediate reply, and the stone floats over to where she’s standing beside him, gently nudging her shoulder repeatedly, causing her to giggle.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could do that,” Dylan says, amazement shining in his eyes, causing you to smile at him in return. Jongdae lets out a puff of air, shifting his weight to his other foot. You send him a look.

“My father taught it to me,” you reply.

“I thought he was a warrior,” Dylan voices, his confusion clear.

“He is,” you confirm. “He’s also an excellent tracker who knows a few tricks.”

You hear him hum in acknowledgement as you turn to look at Mal and Vasco once more, “please be safe.”

“We will,” she replies, smiling reassuringly at you. “We always are.”

“We should probably get going soon then,” Vasco comments, receiving a nod from you.

“Okay-“

Before Mal can utter another word, a cry from inside the house has all of your heads whipping towards the sound.

“That sounds like-“

“Kyungsoo,” you finish for Dylan, all five of you running into the house and in the direction you heard the cry come from.

The others all come stampeding into the hallway where Kyungsoo lays, hunched over on his side, breathing uneven.

“What happened?” Baekhyun is the first to speak, voicing everyone’s concerns.

“It’s starting,” you reply, kneeling beside Kyungsoo who looks up at you through teary eyes.

“I can’t-“ he wheezes, “I can’t breathe.”

“Shit,” you mutter, raising your hand to his forehead, and feeling him burning up. He closes his eyes at your touch, it seemingly relaxing him slightly. “We need to to get you off the floor.”

He nods slightly in understanding, and just as you’re about to ask one of them to move him, Junmyeon falls to his knees, his whole body tense as tears dot his eyes.

“That did not sound good,” Mal comments, and you send a look to Vasco which he nods at, leading Mal away from everyone to give you all more space, despite her protests.

“Someone needs to carry them to their rooms,” you say, but before anyone can move, Kyungsoo slowly starts to move into an upright position as Junmyeon hunches over on his hands and knees, catching his breath.

“No, I’m fine,” Kyungsoo’s voice comes out strained, and you can see the amount of effort he’s using to keep his breathing steady and attempt to stand on his own two feet once more.

“Don’t strain yourself, you’re going to need to preserve all the strength you can,” you tell him, and he shoots a glance your way from the corner of his eyes. You send him a reassuring smile, along with Junmyeon, who has just managed to catch his breath. “Rooms, now, before more of you start the transition.”

Immediately, Minseok moves over to help Kyungsoo up while Dylan does the same for Junmyeon. They slowly make their way up the stairs, the rest of them following closely behind.

A sharp inhale from Luhan has you turning around to see him bent over and clutching the side of his head in pain, eyes squeezed shut.

You can hear all their thoughts buzzing through their heads, but none are louder than the three currently in pain. Kyungsoo feels as if something is crushing him all over, especially his chest area, causing him to have trouble breathing. Junmyeon is experiencing severe muscle spasms and sharp pains, especially in his arms and legs. Luhan just got hit with a severe migraine, and already his vision is starting to become affected.

“Chanyeol, grab three glasses of water. Tao grab another three. Baekhyun, help Luhan up the stairs,” you instruct, and immediately they all scramble to do as told. “Almost there, come on guys.”

Slowly, they all begin to make their way upstairs once again, finally reaching the top landing. Each of them gets placed in their separate rooms, gently being placed on their beds. Their expressions scream nothing but pain, and it tugs at your heartstrings. You hate seeing people in pain.

You’re just sitting on the edge of Luhan’s bed when another thud sounds from the hallway.

“Jongin’s down,” Baekhyun observes from the open doorway, watching as Jongdae helps Jongin into his own room.

You nod your head in understanding, frown becoming more prominent as Luhan’s face contorts in pain, an involuntary groan leaving his lips. You rest your hand on his forehead, feeling the tension in his mind. 

You begin to relieve some of the inner tension Luhan has in his mind when his hand comes up to gently grip your wrist, attempting to move your hand away.

“Don’t,” his voice comes out small and weak.

“But-“

“I can handle it,” he smiles reassuringly at you before his face is contorting in pain once more.

With a sigh, you reluctantly remove your hand from his head. His thoughts telling you all that he can’t voice. If Jongdae could get through his transition, so can he. He wants to prove that he is also worthy enough to be your mate. 

The corner of your mouth turns up in a smile, heart warming at his determination.

Tao comes into the room a few moments later with a glass of water in hand.

“Sehun’s started now, too,” he says, placing the water onto the bedside table. “He’s in his room.”

“What about Yixing?” You ask.

“What about me?” He questions, coming into the room.

“He seems fine at the moment,” Baekhyun comments.

You only hum in response, turning back to look at Luhan, “keep an eye on him, close the blinds and do your best to make as little noise as possible. If you need me, shout mentally. I’m going to check on the others.”

They nod in response as Luhan lets out another groan, partially due to the pain, but also the fact that you’re leaving him.

I’ll be back soon, don’t worry, you tell him, seeing him nod slightly in response.

Both Baekhyun and Yixing follow you on your way out of the room, leaving Tao in charge of watching over Luhan for now.

Making your way down the hall, you go to check on Jongin first, and then Sehun. Entering his room, you see Jongin curled up in a ball on his bed with Jongdae standing off to the side keeping an eye on him.

Jongin’s thoughts are all over the place, seemingly more lost than anything, but he is experiencing pain all over his body. Not as severe as Kyungsoo, but still bad enough that he can’t move around much.

You move to sit on the bed beside him, brushing his hair out of his face. This seems to relax him slightly, allowing his eyes to flutter shut at your touch. Despite his thoughts being all over the place, one thought is constant. He’ll get through this and prove he’s worthy to be your mate. Your lip twitches upwards at this.

After a few minutes observing his condition, you decide to go check on the next wolf. You instruct Baekhyun to keep on eye on him for now, reassuring Jongin you’ll be back soon as he whines for you as you stand up.

So far, Yixing still seems unaffected.

Moving off to Sehun’s room next, you see Chanyeol already sitting beside the younger wolf, holding his hand in comfort. From the looks of it, Sehun has passed out from the pain, and his breathing is laboured.

“When did he pass out?” You ask, moving beside Chanyeol to get a better gage on Sehun’s condition.

“Not that long ago, maybe two minutes,” Chanyeol replies, hearing you hum in response.

Your brow furrows as Sehun starts wheezing in his unconscious state, your hand immediately coming to rest on his chest. A faint glow begins to emit from your hand and his breathing returns to normal. He lets out a groan as he regains consciousness in the next minute.

“Why did you-“ he coughs, “why did you do that?”

“If I didn’t you could have died,” you reply. “You weren’t getting enough air into your lungs.”

Before he can protest, you’re standing back up, ready to check on the next wolf. You let Chanyeol continue to keep an eye on Sehun as you move on to check on Junmyeon.

While moving to Junmyeon’s room, you can still hear Sehun’s thoughts, cursing himself for being so weak that he needed you to heal him. All he wants to do is prove himself to you, just like the others. Looks like Jongdae’s little speech had a larger impact on them than you thought.

Hey, stop that, your voice sounds in his head. This is different, I wouldn’t have healed you if I didn’t think you could handle it. You would have died, and I don’t think you want to leave me like that, do you?

No, but- he begins to protest.

No buts! Focus on resting and getting better, okay? He’s quiet, mind still turning at the situation. You sigh internally at his stubbornness. For me?

Immediately, he agrees, making you breathe a sigh of relief as you enter Junmyeon’s room.

Dylan is already sitting in a chair beside Junmyeon’s bed when you enter, Junmyeon’s face contorted in pain as another spasm travels through his body. You all look at him in concern.

“It’s not-“ he inhales sharply, “it’s not that bad.”

You simply raise an eyebrow at him, “sure it’s not.”

Moving over beside him, you sit on the edge of the bed, placing your hand on his head. This seems to comfort him like the others, for his eyes close briefly in relief. You can tell he’s having a similar thought process to the other three before him. It really warms your heart that they would want to prove themselves, but you’re also worried for them. You don’t like seeing people in pain, not after everything you’ve lived through, and especially not after everything you’ve suffered through. You never want someone else to have to live through something like that, you’d rather take it all.

“Rest now, you’ll need it,” you say, standing back up and moving towards the door once more.

Dylan agrees to watch over Junmyeon as you go to check on Kyungsoo. Jongdae and Yixing are both still trailing behind you, and you’re surprised Yixing is still unaffected. Well, given the power you’ve predicted he’ll get, you’re not too surprised.

Opening the door to his room, you see Kyungsoo curled up on his bed sleeping while Minseok watches over him.

“How is he?” Your voice seems to pull Minseok out of his thoughts, and he watches you carefully as you check Kyungsoo over.

“He’s in a lot of pain, but he managed to pass out about ten minutes ago,” Minseok explains, you nodding your head in understanding. “He also told me to tell you not to heal him. I think you can figure out why.”

“Yeah, I assumed he would be like the others in not wanting me to heal him,” you sigh, looking at Kyungsoo sleeping, his face contorted in pain.

“I’ll keep on eye on him, don’t worry,” Minseok reassures you.

You send him a smile in thanks as you move to exit the room, both Jongdae and Yixing following you.

“Call if you need anything,” you say while pointing to your head, Minseok nodding his understanding.

Making it out of the room, you see Yixing starting to frown, his thoughts giving away his state of being.

“Go rest, you’ll need it,” you say, watching as he nods his head and begins to make his way to his room.

“Aren’t you going to follow him?” Jongdae quirks a brow.

“He’ll be fine, he just needs to sleep,” you reply, moving down the stairs and back into the living room where both Mal and Vasco are.

Jongdae doesn’t say anything as he follows you into the room, but you can hear the thoughts racing through his mind. 

You okay? You ask him, looking at him in concern.

I will be, soon, comes his reply as he sits on the opposite couch.

“How are they?” Mal breaks the silence surrounding the four of you.

“They’ll live,” you reply, rubbing your eyes. “They’ll be okay, I know it. It’s only for a few days, they can handle it. They’re stronger than they think.”

“Alright,” Mal nods, “well, Vasco and I should get going if we want to find everyone you’ve told us about.”

“Yeah, the sooner, the better,” you agree. “Please be safe.”

“We will,” Vasco hums, helping Mal up from the couch.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” she smiles as you give her a hug goodbye.

You walk with them to the front door, watching as Vasco shifts and lets Mal climb onto his back. You call out a final goodbye as they reach the tree line, and once you no longer can see them, you close the front door with a sigh, locking it behind you.

Making your way back to the living room, you see Jongdae with a slight pout on his face. You quirk a brow at him in amusement.

“Why the long face, wolf boy?” Your voice seems to pull him out of his thoughts as you move to sit beside him on the couch.

“No reason,” he replies vaguely, and you can tell what’s bothering him, but you decide not to push it. He’ll talk to you about it when he’s ready. After all, he doesn’t like it when you point out these things to him, because he already knows them.

Leaning into him, he wraps one of his arms around you, pulling you into his side. You let out a sigh of content, causing him to hum in response as you come to rest your head on him. It feels so good to have you in his arms again, especially after everything that’s happened the past few days. If he could, he’d never let you go again.

Nothing is said between the two of you, allowing for a comfortable silence to settle across the room. You find the events of the past few days catching up to you, and your eyes begin to droop. Before you know it, you’ve fallen asleep.

Jongdae looks down to see you sleeping in his arms, and a soft smile spreads across his features. He brings his one hand up to trace the side of your cheek gently, watching as you bury yourself deeper into his chest subconsciously. His beast positively howls at this. Finally, some alone time with his mate.

The two of you stay like this on the couch for at least an hour and a half. He makes sure not to disturb you while you sleep, instead taking this time to enjoy the company of his mate next to him, without any interruptions. He even takes the time to place gentle kisses onto your forehead as he watches over your sleeping form. His wolf hums in content as he’s filled with love and adoration for you.

Once you wake up, you spend a little bit more time wrapped in Jongdae’s arms. Well, more like he refuses to let you go for a while, but you didn’t mind. Afterwards, you both make some food for yourselves and for the rest of the guys for when they’re hungry. Bringing the extra food upstairs after you’ve finished eating, you decide to check on the rest of them and see how they’re holding up.

Checking in on Yixing reveals him passed out on his bed, face down and gripping his pillow tightly. You don’t sense any major turmoil coming form his mind, only slight discomfort as his body undergoes its change. For that, you’re grateful.

Closing the door behind you after you’ve left some food on the side table for Yixing, you move on to check on Sehun. 

Chanyeol is passed out in the chair beside Sehun’s bed, snoring lightly. You almost laugh at the sight, if not for the whimpers Sehun lets out every now and then in his own sleep. Although, he doesn’t seem to be having anymore breathing problems, so you’re relieved about that. Leaving some food for them as well, you quietly leave the room.

Moving onto the rooms of the others, you find them all pretty much in the same state. All of them, except Dylan and Minseok, have fallen asleep watching over the others whom have all either fallen asleep themselves, or passed out from the pain. You’re just glad they’re getting rest while they can, although every whimper, groan, and whine cause a frown to pull at your face.

Once you’re done checking up on everybody, and leaving them food for when they wake up, you let those who are awake know there’s food downstairs. You decide to call it a night afterwards.

Crawling into bed, you find yourself falling asleep quickly despite the nap you had earlier. You haven’t really been sleeping well the past few days, so it’s finally catching up with you.

The next morning you’re woken up to the sound of three wolves howling in pain, and over the course of the next few days, you do your best to ease their transition. After three whole days, the last transition is complete.

Looking at the six wolves now sitting on the couch in front of you, you smile faintly. Yixing’s transition lasted for a day at most, with only slight discomfort for him. He practically slept through it all. Luhan’s transition lasted about two and a half days, but eventually the migraines ceased. Junmyeon’s muscle spasms lasted exactly two days. Jongin’s transition only a day and a half. Kyungsoo and Sehun’s transitions lasted the full three days. 

You’re just glad it’s over, for now.

“Okay, how are you all feeling now?” You ask.

“I’ve never been better,” Sehun smiles, causing you to mirror his smile once you hear his words.

“I feel fine,” Jongin comments, the others nodding their agreement.

“That’s good to hear,” you say. “Now, we need to talk about your powers.”

“What do you mean?” Junmyeon’s brow furrows in confusion.

“You can’t simply expect to be able to use them at full capacity immediately, can you?” You smirk, turning around to face the back door. “Follow me.”

Leading them outside, you turn to face them as they stand beside each other. You notice the other six moving to watch you from the house, coming to stand on the back porch to see what powers their brothers got.

“Okay, let’s see,” your eyes narrow slightly. “The intense training won’t start until you all have your powers, but I think it’s time to tell you exactly which powers you got.”

You see their expressions perk up at your words, causing your smirk to widen.

“The only one of you who should be aware of what power he has right now is Luhan,” you say, and they all turn to look at him.

“She’s right, you all think very loudly,” he comments, letting out a growl as he turns to look at both Dylan and Minseok on the porch. “Especially you two.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to block them out soon enough,” you reassure him.

“So wait, Luhan did get telepathy?” Yixing asks in amazement, watching as you nod your head in confirmation. “Wow.”

“I was also right about you,” nodding your head, you watch his eyes widen. “Healing.”

“Woah,” Tao breathes.

“What about us?” Sehun asks excitedly.

“Wind,” you reply, nodding in his direction, and watching as a huge smile takes over his features. “Kyungsoo, you got earth. Junmyeon, strength, and finally, Jongin, you got teleportation.”

“That’s amazing,” Jongin gasps, eyes wide as he stares at his hands.

“How this is going to work is you’re all going to have a week to experiment with your new powers, and by the end of that week, you’ll show me what you’ve discovered. That way, you can take things at your own pace to begin, and I can reveal my scent to the remaining five,” you notice five certain wolves on the porch perk up at your words, and Jongdae nodding his agreement. “Once that happens, I’ll be able to train you all without worrying about my scent barrier. Besides, we might have some backup at that time.”

“Makes sense,” Kyungsoo nods his understanding.

“Don’t try anything too extraordinary for the first attempt,” Jongdae calls out to them. “Believe me, it’s not a good idea.”

You giggle, recalling the memory of him trying to impress you with his newfound powers, only to shock himself pretty badly, landing him face first in the mud, twitching slightly.

“Good luck, guys,” Chanyeol shouts, heading back into the house with the others.

“We’ll see you soon,” Baekhyun comments.

Jongdae waits outside on the porch for you, the others too antsy waiting to start their turn of having your scent revealed to them. You only chuckle and shake your head.

“You don’t have to start right at this very moment, you can always wait until after we’re done. It’s going to work the same as last time, and you all know how that went,” sending a knowing look to all of them, especially Jongin and Sehun who blush slightly as you look at them.

“Thank you, (Y/n),” Junmyeon says, sincerely. “This means more to us than you’ll ever know.”

The others nod their agreement, letting out a few ‘thank you’s and ‘yeah’s here and there. You only smile in return.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you say, heading back up to the house. 

The six outside all watch as you make it back to the porch. Once there, you take Jongdae’s hand and step inside. Now, it’s time to face the remaining five.

“Okay, this is going to go exactly like last time. I’m going to go set up first, and I’ll let Jongdae know when I’m ready,” you inform them, watching as they all nod their heads in agreement. “See you soon.”

With a final smile and wave from you, you’re transporting yourself once more to the hidden clearing to set up. Exactly like last time, you set up a sound and wind barrier on the edge of the clearing in order to maintain privacy, and keep your scent from travelling outwards too far.

Letting out a sigh, you move to sit on the rock overlooking the pool of water, watching the waterfall before you.

Jongdae, his head snaps up as soon as he hears your voice inside his head. I’m ready.

[trulycertain]

The WIP Post

After months of being on orig, I’ve been playing with the odd fic idea... and both are for Eurojank RPGs that about five people actually played. Oops?

Idea one: Vampyr AU where Jonathan joins Priwen as a combat medic post-killing Mary - because they seem to have a bunch of information about vampires, and as a passive means of suicide because he hates himself.

Idea two: Greedfall, post-canon De Sardet/Vasco AU. To be more specific, the "there's a bunch of pining and the romance doesn't happen until post-canon when De Sardet is completely done with Tír Fradí and Vasco takes her on holiday with him on a routine cargo run to one of the Naut isles, where he has to go to get confirmation of rank and his commander's tatts" AU.

Er... extracts from both follow. Warnings for barely-there prose while I brush things into shape, and vasriable character voices while I learn.

Probably-unnamed Vampyr AU

“Sir. Someone... asked to join us, sir.”

McCullum looks up from scribbling a report on the events of Tuesday’s dismal patrol. “It’s late for it. You checked them?” They know he’ll do it himself again, it’d be nothing more than damn stupid to invite a leech to warm themselves by your hearth, but it’s good to get them into the habit. Small oversights get you killed.

“Yes, sir.” It’s Perkins, who’s still a little green round the edges but is shaping up well. Even if the hat’s too small for his ears, and he’s panting as if he’s run ahead.

He nods. “They old enough?”

“It’s… a gentleman, sir. Says he’s a doctor.”

And he looks up at doctor, unable to help himself, and brings the pen back to the inkwell. Old Len’s, well, old. Tired, and nothing more than a temporary medic made to throw bandages on wounds, splash it with brandy and hope for the best. It doesn’t mean he’ll take the offer, but it’s something. “Well, then. Show the man in.”

They do it the Priwen way. Perhaps if there were daylight shining through the windows, they’d be a damn sight friendlier.

The stranger’s steps are slow, and his hands are raised, but... even with three swords and five pistols on him, he doesn’t flinch. He’s either calm, or suicidal. (Or he thinks he can destroy the lot of them in a minute, with blood and shadow.) He looks right past the wheel of death around him and watches McCullum levelly, sharp-eyed over the guards’ shoulders. Not that that’d be hard for him. He’s tall, even by McCullum’s reasonable standards; dark, with a frock coat that makes him look like a hearse driver and might have been quite fine, once. And the beard says it’s been a long journey back, but he’s kept the short-back-and-sides that speaks of the front. And that pale, haunted look.

He just raises a brow and says, after a pause so significant you could use it as tar: “Good evening.” And evening is putting it mildly, they’re in the back end of night and about to head into morning. Still, politeness, other than yes-sir no-sir brothers-let-us-eat, is always interesting to find. Especially when a man’s treating this much weaponry like it’s just a faux pas at some tea party.

“You look like it’s been a long night, sir,” McCullum says, keeping his voice airy even while he has his eyes on the three men he could command to shoot, allowing the sarcasm to drop into sir.  He’s tired, and there’s a reason Priwen doesn’t get many midnight visitors in one of the rougher parts of the district. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had the ‘flu.” They wouldn’t have even let a stranger in the door, if they’d thought so. Or if he’d seemed like a leech.

Their visitor says, “Seeing as half the doctors in London still struggle to make a diagnosis, I’d like to see your notes.” It’s testy, and there’s a certain weariness in it that’s familiar from every time McCullum’s had a nurse or a doctor sigh or cluck over him. It makes his people – butcher’s sons and drivers, to a one – fidget, with the urgency of old, know your place instincts.

McCullum’s never had much time for that sort of thing. He raises a brow. “You’d know, then?”

The stranger grimaces, rubbing at his forehead, and for a moment that cut-glass primness cracks. “I’m… sorry, there have been a few too many night shifts.” The stranger looks away, swiftly, and something wistful crosses his face. Then it’s clamped down again, under all that English, officer reserve. “I practised here, and at the front. In fact, that’s why I’m here. To offer my services, if I may.” He hesitates and shifts forwards and just for a moment, he looks like he might offer his hand, too – as if interviewing for a position. That shouldn’t be so comical as it is.

“With Priwen? Why the hell would you do that?”

He’s got an accent that says the Brotherhood, not Priwen. He’s tall, with that straight-backed, confident-toff posture that time overseas has probably only worsened. And he looks like he’s about to drop. McCullum’s seen staff at the Pembroke scurrying home from their rounds, and they’ve looked better.

The hint of a sigh, like this is all some ridiculous game to him, and the doctor raises his hand to his collar. At least twelve hands twitch on blade-hilts and triggers, but McCullum raises a palm and they respect him enough to stop. The doctor looks around, sharp-eyed, and then nods with a prim schoolteacher’s relief that they’ve come to their senses. He unbuttons his collar, and tugs it aside.

So that’s why - and now McCullum has to tug hard on the guards’ respect and pull them back like they’re dogs at a bone. Even the doctor seems startled at the ferocity of their response, though he hides it fast under the tightening of his jaw. Probably angry at themselves for even letting him get this far. He’s angry they didn’t check the obvious, just left it at the eyes and the pulse.

There are two holes just by the throat – not the usual neatness one’d expect, but a little jagged, as if someone – as if the good doctor – fought back with a vengeance.

“It damn near killed me,” the doctor says, quietly. “And my sister...” He chokes on that and looks like he’s had a swift kick, before he recovers himself. McCullum understands that well enough. “Believe me, I have no fondness for whatever did this.” Softer, now: “And I need to understand why. Before more people are...” He swallows, thinks better of what he was probably about to say. “...harmed.”

His eyes are wide and troubled, but the resigned sort of troubled, not the wants-a-fight variety. Like he’s not all here and somewhere in him, he still doesn’t believe this is happening. Few people survive a leech attack, but he’s seen enough of that face in the men coming back from the war, too: ones who believed that God, or their names, or luck would protect them and ended up crawling face-down in the dirt instead. Some of them, their bodies come back, but their souls never do. Same way McCullum has half of him back in a crumbling house in Dublin. But unlike him, the doctor’s out of his depth.

McCullum steps forwards to examine the holes, and they’re deep. Must have hurt like a bastard. Something powerful did this. Definitely not a neonate. Probably… something at the back of his mind mutters ekon, but he refuses to use the nonsense names they try and civilise themselves with. A monster is a monster. It’s damn lucky that the doctor’s walked away.

Damn lucky.

He doesn’t smell the stink of human blood that never quite comes out of their clothes, or see the tinge of red around the eyes that suggests a recent feed, on something with a soul. (They can never stop themselves for long. They all come back to it, in the end. And then the memories stay in their eyes.) The doctor stares him down, obviously uncomfortable but refusing to move. No. Blue, and such an uncannily pale blue that he’d think leech, if he hadn’t seen it on just enough humans before. Bloodshot and bloody exhausted, but not that inhuman, wrong tinge of red.

“Let me check your teeth,” he says.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, and there’s the posh-boy disbelief. It’s better than the absent-eyed shell shock; he’ll take it. “Is that really - ?”

“Teeth.”

They can tuck them away well enough, but most are too lazy to bother. It’s muscle memory, to walk about as they are. And besides, what leech would be stupid enough to walk into a room full of the Guard of Priwen and ask for a job? They’re arrogant, but they like to think they have more class than that. Less brass bollocks, more lurking in the shadows.

Bontemps

"De Sardet?" She looks at him - him, not the memory from months ago. His eyes are concerned. "You were some miles away there." She lies, "I was just thinking... Bontemps. Not a place I've heard of." "No. I doubt you would have." And she'd suspected, but the carefully-casual way he says it, the way he minutely shifts against the wall and the leather creaking of that new commander's coat... She stares at him. "A Naut isle, then?" "Indeed." "Am I allowed to know this?" He snorts. "You know too much already." The shifting turns to a tidal wave. "That brings me to my next point, actually." He takes his hands from the wall and turns to her, truly looks at her, then. "I have a... proposition for you." And the mulish way he says it, the slightest raise of his eyebrows, means he knows how that could sound. He sees her suppressing a smile and half-sighs; when they first met, he wouldn't even have let her have that, and it tells her he's not unamused. She settles for the other way to cheerfully misunderstand him. "I don't think tattoos would suit me as well as they do you, Vasco."

"No, I - " He exhales, and smooths a hand over the wall. She wonders if part of him is still wishing for the creak of wood and the sway of a ship; the way she misses her mother's laughter and Constantin regaling her with some tall tale and proper Serene tea, will always miss them. Out of command and out of a fight, he isn't wearing his gloves, and two curving lines show as his sleeve rides up - swiftly hidden as it pulls down again. He pauses, as if gathering his courage, and then, in an exhale: "You said you hoped you'd be able to sail with me again, once. Did you mean that?" "I meant it." She grins askance at him. "I really did have no complaints about the crossing." And he smiles, swift and contained but with less of that uncertainty now. In the first days they knew each other, he'd seemed... warmed, but reluctantly, wondering why a noble was buttering him up; was asking about the lines on his face and listening to stories of storm crossings and a man caught in a rope, pulled back overboard with broken ribs but surviving, in the nick of time. At least she'd thought so, until she realised somewhere along the way that it was... the closest thing he showed to bashfulness. He'd always been too self-confident for it to be obvious, but she saw it. He inclines his head. "I'm glad to hear it." He swallows. "I'm offering you that opportunity. If there's nowhere else you need or want to go. If you would like it." "To Bontemps?" "To Bontemps. We have room for a few more, and it's not unknown to have an outsider with you." He tilts his head and looks out over the market, and she gets the feeling he's severely understating it when he says, "Unusual, perhaps."

She realises with surprise that this is the thought he's been chewing over, the one he hesitated to tell her. As if she wouldn't like to sail with him, when there's... "There's nothing I'd like more."

He glances sharply over at her, surprised.

That was probably too earnest. The time withdrawing into herself, doing paperwork rather than travelling, taking dinner in her room... She's lost the knack of things. She adds swiftly, "Last time, I learned so many new and interesting curses. And you were quite a sight climbing the rigging."

At the surprised raise of an eyebrow and the way she suspects he'd be flushing if he were a lesser, noble man, she wonders if she's overstepped the mark. It was always enjoyable, to be sarcastic and to let him respond, even if for most of their travels she'd stayed away from anything that might be... misconstrued. She'd been paying him for the crossing, and even once they landed, she'd had the ability to make his life rather difficult. Even with him being assigned to her, she'd had no doubt that he'd walk away - probably quite colourfully, if he felt it necessary - but that was no reason to make him uncomfortable. But somehow, whether it's due to his own dry commentary or the fact he knows her better than most, she forgets to be diplomatic. (He had been. A sight, that is. She remembers the muttering below about He's actually in a good bloody mood, for once. Only a mad bastard like that would be in a good mood in fog. And then she'd gone above, and realised after a few seconds who it was calling down orders; who it was climbing down swift and sure like he was simply in a tree in a garden, calling something bright and inevitably insulting to one of the crew who'd made a comment. He'd hopped down onto the deck to retrieve the coat he'd tossed there - shirt soaked from the fog they'd had to pass through and the sea, hair damp and wild and curving into waves, new ink-lines revealed by the shirtcollar that must extend at least to his collarbones. He'd still been looking to the heckler, grin savage and joyous. She’d realised, then, that she’d never seen him smile before: truly, not the swift insincere thing he offered with pleasantries. The smile had lasted until he'd seen her there - and then it had fallen and he'd assumed the usual wary tired briskness, even through severely smudged kohl. A bow of his head and Your Excellency. I apologise for the delay, but we're back on course. And then he'd walked swiftly past her, orders sharp to the crew again, swiftly buckling the coat and jamming his hat back on his head, probably back to his cabin to find a change of clothes. And she'd abruptly realised she knew absolutely nothing about their captain.) She adds, swiftly and in a much airier tone, "If I were a braver woman, I'd ask you to teach me." He leans back against the low wall, crosses his arms. "If I didn't prefer you alive, I might take you up on that." But there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and she realises what that surprised expression was, when he glanced at her: he's pleased, quietly so, and barely trying to hide it.

Her realisation seems to make his resistance crumble: he grins at her, sharp and swift and lovely like a knife in the sun... And she wonders where that thought came from. Either way, she can't help returning it. He steps forwards, hat throwing shadows onto his face, and looks at her with that strange, surprised, fleeting thing that he always seems to tuck away before she can quite understand it. He steps forwards, his grin falling, hat throwing shadows onto his face, eyes dark and wide. "De Sardet, I..." A noblewoman with skirts entirely too expansive walks past them, and they have to swerve and flatten themselves against the wall and try not to fall over it entirely. It's a new fashion, and one De Sardet has been only too glad to avoid. They watch her go in silent disbelief.

When she looks back to him, his hat is resting in his hands where he's had to swiftly remove it, and he looks like he's gritting his teeth. Then it's gone, and he says, with a captain's brisk professionalism, “It’s three months’ journey. And we could be there for some time. I understand if that changes your mind.”

“Not at all. I… have few plans, to be quite honest with you.”

He nods with a relieved exhale. “Good. We set sail in a week. I would... like to see you there."

[turnsoutnoonewasexaggerating]

Part 12 of The Sam Diaries

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10507836/chapters/27875511

“It’s my hen night tomorrow and we still haven’t finished the guest list.”

“It’s not my fault my father decided to unearth the fact he has six siblings and a huge extended family only last year.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t notice your family was in a feud with another family. Your grandparents didn’t say anything?”

“Nope and same family actually. All the weird comments about my father being a disgrace when I was in school make more sense now though. And that time my brother kissed Abigail Rosewood way worse.”

“Isn’t she one of your newly discovered cousins?”

“Yep.”

“Your brother makes me want to retch.” Eunoia declares, coming into the lounge and throwing herself onto the couch, her feet in Sam’s lap. She pokes him in the stomach with her toe to get him to take his head out of his hands, watching his face for just long enough to see his begrudging smile before going back to her morning make-up routine.

“How are you doing that without a mirror?” Sam says in awe as she succeeds in not poking herself in the eye with the mascara brush.

“Practice.” She replies, round the mouth that she always pulls while putting on make-up, one similar to the face people make when feeding a baby. Sam always gets the urge to put his finger in her mouth, just to see her reaction. The only reason he hasn’t is he’s worried her instinct reaction would be to bite off the end of his finger. She finishes with the mascara, puts it back in the tube and then fixes him with a look.

“At the end of the day, this wedding is for us. Me and you. If you want your crazy recently de-ostracised family there then invite them. And if not, who gives a fuck. This day is for us.”

Sam reluctantly unfolds the guest list and scans it again.

Sam: • Mom • Dad • Sage

• Auntie Sabina • Uncle Joe • Sabella (+1; Grayson) • Sandra • Salem (+1; Hailee)

• Auntie Saffron • Uncle Cameron • Salvador • Sang • Sapphire • Sarah

• Uncle Sasha • Auntie Emery • Saul • Saveria

• Nan • Great-Aunt Scarlett • Granny Rose • Pops

• Dad’s family??

• Winter White • Yasmin Harris • Talon Anderson

Eunoia: • Julia García • Adoración García • Vasco García

• Rosa DeRosales • Bennett Johnson • Corinna Johnson

• Rashawn Jackson • Serenity Thomas • Kacey Jones • Lainey Jones • Iesha Williams • Madyson Davis • Jaden Brown • Nash Miller

• Neil Josten (!!!) • Andrew Minyard (!!!)

• Odin Wilson • Paxton Moore • Qiana Taylor

“You’ve got all your Exy team, the guys from the shop, and uni right?”

“Yup. And you’ve got your three and only friends, two of whom have the strangest names on the planet.” She teases. Sam rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“I keep telling you; it’s Yasmin who’s the strange one.”

“We shall see. At least I have more friends to make up for my disappointing lack of family members.” Eunoia says, with a hint of black humour. Sam reaches over to squeeze her hand.

“You ok?” He asks, looking at her closely. Eunoia’s eyebrows pinch together for a second in thought, then smooth.

“I’m ok.” She smiles at him and they share a moment of calm before she gets off the sofa and heads for her shoes. “You’re not expecting me to remember any of the names of your family members once I’m tipsy right?” She calls over her shoulder.

“If you just call them all ‘S’ they’ll probably just think you’re being chummy.”

“I get that it was your dying great-grandad’s wish and all but he was really far into dementia by that point for God’s sake! Poor man probably didn’t know he was condemning all his future line to suffering ‘S’ names.”

“Great-Aunt Scarlett changed her name when he died. Did I tell you that? No-one can remember what her original name was.”

“She’s definitely always been your Aunt right? You didn’t have a transgender Uncle who reappeared as Aunt Scarlett?”

“I mean at this point…”

The impossible happened about two months before Halloween in that Andrew Minyard, renowned emotionless midget with no interest in anything besides Neil, sweet food, occasionally spite-filled pursuits such as stopping a goal in the stupid stickball game he plays for a living, fast cars, cigarettes, keeping promises- (Well shit Andrew thinks, How long have I had multiple interests for?) well, anyway, Andrew had taken part in a bet with his cousin Nicky.

Even more astounding, breaching not just impossible but feats not even alternate universes could have come up with, Andrew lost the bet. The bet was this; Nicky bet Andrew a favour that, if pressed, Neil would say he most liked hugs from Matt, not Andrew. At the moment that Nicky had suggested this bet over their skype call, Neil had wandered out of their bedroom, stark naked, hair sleep-mussed and expression completely content. Andrew’s eyes had travelled so slowly down Neil’s body from head to foot that Neil had flushed the pretty pink colour that Andrew can admit is one of his favourite things.

“Yeah, um-hmm, sure Nicky. Do you want to speak to Neil?” Andrew hadn’t taken his eyes off Neil while he spoke; honestly he was impressed he’d had enough self-control that he hadn’t launched himself off the couch and started devouring the redhead, which meant he had gotten to see the delightful change in expression from content to horrified as he dived back into their room to grab some clothes.

Andrew had smugly gone to make himself a hot chocolate, only drawn back into their living room when Nicky’s crows of excitement had become loud enough to annoy the cats into coming into the kitchen too. “Andrew you owe me a favour!” His cousin had yelled excitedly when he’d seen Andrew come back into view.

“What?” Andrew deadpanned, unimpressed with what he had been sure was more of Nicky’s usual antics.

“Our bet! Neil prefers Matt’s hugs to yours!” At this Neil had looked startled.

“Hey you just asked whose hugs I like the most! Andrew doesn’t hug me. You’re making it out to be different that it is.” Neil had argued, as Andrew felt dawning horror ruin his appetite for hot chocolate.

“What’s the favour?” He had asked, through gritted teeth, barely resisting the urge to slam the laptop screen down (the only reason he didn’t was it would catch Neil’s fingers, much as he’d go to his grave before admitting that was the reason). Nicky had looked more smug than Andrew had ever seen him, which was an impressive feat after last year’s; ‘Allison your fiancé is cheating on you with a man’-‘no he’s not’-cue Allison ‘walking in on her fiancé and the pool boy’ debacle.

“I get to pick your Halloween outfit.”

Skip forward to present day, the 31st of October, and Andrew had spent the plane ride over to Germany resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to spend an evening dressed in a tutu with rainbow colours painted on his face or something equally ludicrous, but that Nicky hadn’t said anything about not stabbing him for calling in the ‘favour’. Neil was much too amused by the whole thing for Andrew’s taste, though he was less sure about going to Nicky and Erik’s work Halloween party. Though his German remained as impeccable as ever, his only friends outside of Exy were Eunoia and Sam, and even they had a connection to the sport and himself. Luckily he doubted Andrew would be interested in socialising either, and just turning up was always enough for Nicky.

Neil tapped the fingers of his free hand against the balcony impatiently, a cigarette held lightly in the other, as he waited for Nicky to finish dressing Andrew up. It was a testament to how far Andrew had come that he was letting Nicky do this at all, bet or not, and Neil could admit he was curious as to what mortifying or objectifying outfit Nicky had picked out. Neil himself was dressed in the exact same zombie cowboy outfit that he’d worn to Eden’s the first year at Palmetto, something that made Nicky equal parts disgusted and nostalgic, and 100% obsessed with taking at least six selfies with Neil per hour. Considering he usually took five per hour, it wasn’t too much of a burden.

Neil turned when the door to the room opened. Andrew stalked in, his eyes sparking with barely leashed fury and maybe the tiniest hint of defeated amusement, his hands angrily rolling up the sleeves of his outfit that had clearly been made for a slightly taller adult man. Nicky trailed in after him, giggling, with Erik steering him from crashing into the doorframe with a wide grin on his face.

“Do you get it Neil? He’s a pilot because he hates flying!” Neil did indeed get it, but Neil had also lost all motor functions and was only just aware enough to drop his cigarette when it almost burnt out and started dropping hot ash on his wrist, let alone try and reply.

Even though it was just a costume and the trousers would be dragging on the floor if it wasn’t for Andrew’s thick muscular thighs bunching them further up his leg and the sleeves of the jacket were practically bursting at the seams around Andrew’s biceps… What was the point Neil was trying to make again? Neil didn’t even hate the pilot hat, perched atop Andrew’s freshly short-cut hair. In fact, his mouth was so dry Neil wondered if he was living in Arizona again. Where was he? Did it matter?

“Don’t tell me you had a traumatic experience with a pilot.” Andrew mocks when the silence has stretched on for just slightly too long, but the anger in his eyes has dimmed replaced with blooming concern.

It’s a conscious effort to tear his eyes away from Andrew and onto Nicky and Erik, but he thinks if he stares any longer he might be in for a much more embarrassing situation to get himself out of, especially as the muscle he’s put on since that first night at Eden’s has made his trousers tighter in a way that would not help him at all.

“How long do we have until the party?” He manages eventually, hoping his voice sounds less hoarse to them than it does to him.

“About twenty minutes. Erik and I have got to get into our costumes- are you sure you’re alright Neil?” Nicky asks. Neil manages a somewhat convincing nod (though not without some confusion as to what exactly about his outfit Nicky doesn’t already consider a costume) and they leave with a few more light-hearted jabs at Andrew’s expense. Andrew’s in Neil’s space the second they’re out of sight.

“Yes or no?” Neil asks, before Andrew can say anything.

“Yes.” Andrew replies without hesitance and Neil leans forward but stops himself. He doesn’t trust himself to not just grab at everything he can reach.

“Fuck.” Neil wheezes instead and Andrew is getting more confused by the second because this behaviour is indicative of a panic attack but the look in his eye is the same one he gets when Andrew saves an impossible goal on the court of his own volition, or smirks at Neil in bed, or when he says yes to Neil asking to suck his-

Oh.

“You have a thing for a man in uniform Josten?” Andrew tries not to acknowledge the way blood is rushing away from his head at the breathy sound Neil makes in response.

“Men, eh. You, very much so.” Then he says something so filthy in Russian that even Andrew’s tempted to blush.

“That fucking mouth.” He growls and closes the distance between them, liking how he can pull Neil’s hips into his using the gun slings on either side of Neil’s thighs, something he’s fantasized about doing since that first Halloween.

“Guys you ready to go?” Andrew may be able to get rid of his boner through sheer force of will but Neil’s pretty sure he’s a lost cause. Twenty minutes wasn’t long enough to get themselves into any kind of activity Andrew’s current attractiveness is worth, but Neil doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to get through this party without combusting.

He groans into the pillow when Andrew’s hand tugs lightly through his hair to remind him they have to go, and when he finally gets up he’s determinedly not looking at Andrew.

“Neil this is supposed to be a classy party!” Nicky complains when he sees Andrew. Neil raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Like, did you try to eathim?”

Neil sneaks a look at Andrew’s neck. He hadn’t realised he’d left quite that many hickeys but he doesn’t regret a single one. By the smug way Andrew refuses to do up the buttons on his jacket, Neil thinks he feels the same. It had taken a long time for Neil to be allowed to leave any kind of mark on Andrew, and the first few times Neil had been more freaked out by the bruise forming than proud. That was, until Andrew had had a bad day that had him convinced Neil was just as much of a pipedream as he always thought. Neil had prompted him to look in the mirror at the marks on his neck, proof of not only the existence of their relationship but how far Andrew had come with being able to trust Neil. It had helped, and while Andrew was still off for a few days, Neil caught him checking the marks in the mirror with an almost relieved look on his face.

“Will you let me do up the buttons?” Neil asked him finally, when Nicky’s pleading eyes had become too much to ignore.

“Yes.” Andrew said finally, turning to him. Neil buttoned his jacket with careful fingers, including the top button Andrew hadn’t even had done up before their make-out session. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and gulped at how the high neck accentuated the strong line of Andrew’s jaw and the colour was bringing out his eyes that were still slightly darkened with desire and- fuck.

They needed to leave. Now.

Nicky had asked Neil in rusty Spanish if him and Andrew had somehow managed to get into a fight without speaking seeing as Neil had immediately moved to sit in the passenger seat next to Nicky instead of in the back with Andrew. Why Neil had sat in the passenger seat was twofold, but the main reason was because he didn’t think he’d be able to make it all the way to Nicky’s ‘classy’ party without kissing Andrew again if he was sat so close to his not-boyfriend. He had no intention of saying this to Nicky though and instead went with the other reason; Andrew wanted to talk to Erik.

Nicky had gone immediately pale; looking in the back mirror to make sure Andrew wasn’t holding a knife to his husband’s throat. Andrew and Neil might have attended their wedding but, well, Nicky still remembered how Andrew reacted to Aaron’s girlfriends. To his utter shock Erik is grinning, almost shyly, his eyes wet with unshed tears, while Andrew very awkwardly pats him on the shoulder, looking like he wants to be literally anywhere else.

Nicky has to park the car he’s laughing so much, Neil not being much better.

“What, did, you, say, to, him?” Nicky wheezes, before cracking up again when he looks at Andrew’s face. Andrew shrugs.

“Thanks.” Erik’s smile hasn’t dimmed, even though the tears threatening to spill have mostly gone.

“I stand by what I said in that letter.” Erik says, in accented English. Andrew’s fist clenches and then relaxes.

“What letter?” Neil asks, feeling like he’s been left out of the loop, but when he glances to the side Nicky looks just as confused.

Erik’s eyebrows pinch together a little. “I sent Andrew a letter after Nicky told me what happened outside the club. Nicky’s a fighter, but not like that. Andrew saved his life, and therefore my world. Don’t get me wrong- you were still- Nicky how do you say the mean word for penis?” Nicky snorts, collapsing into giggles again.

“Dick?” He suggests, when he’s calmed down a little.

“Yes. A dick but you’re always welcome at our home. Just maybe when you were a teenager you would have been in the furthest away room.”

“Well into being an adult too.” Nicky chimes in, ignoring Andrew’s glare. “Let me guess, you finally thanked Erik for the offer?”

“He thanked me for helping you enough that he got a family.” Erik admonishes quietly. Neil blinked at Andrew, not expecting that was the reason he’d wanted to speak to Erik. Andrew swallowed and looked up at Nicky, who was staring back, misty-eyed and choked up.

“Oh.” Nicky said softly.

“I told your father about Drake to try and get his help in keeping Drake away from Aaron.” Nicky flinches. “He told me it must have been a misunderstanding, but he promised he wouldn’t let Cass foster any more children.” Andrew’s voice is carefully composed and blank as he continues. “I met one of the other children that your father let Drake attack. We talked. She said something that… I didn’t want you to think I hold any of your father’s misdeeds against you.”

“I can’t give you a hug from here.” Nicky says, eventually, tears spilling over.

“Why did you think I arranged this for the car journey?” Andrew deadpans.

“We’re not that far from the party.” Nicky says, determined, throwing the car into gear and driving them to the venue with the recklessness left over from his university days. He practically dives out of the car as soon as he’s put it into park and goes round to Andrew’s door.

Andrew winds down the window, unimpressed. Nicky holds out his hand like he’s passing something to Andrew but his hand is empty. Andrew glances at it and then Nicky’s face before slowly raising his own hand, wondering what the Hell Nicky’s doing. Nicky grabs his hand and squeezes it once, tightly, before letting go.

“Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you both.”

“I don’t like surprises.” Andrew says mulishly, ignoring the way his heart feels full and warm with how Nicky had somehow managed to give him the feeling of a hug without bypassing his personal space.

“Neither do I.” Aaron, from behind Nicky, holding hands with a slightly paler than normal Katelyn, agrees, staring darkly at Nicky.

Neil looks between them both and realises Nicky had invited both the twins without telling either of them the other was coming.

“Well shit.”

[kaytewrites]

the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter five

also on AO3! 

The next day, Tristan is greeted by a messenger in purple. He’s reading over that same droll report, now amended with even more paper, and he almost drops the entire thing onto his lap out of haste to tell the person at the door to enter. It’s around the time Vasco always visits, and he’s been meaning to speak to him -

“Tristan Delzole, sir?”

He shoves his disappointment down, compartmentalizes. He isn’t sure why he’s so disappointed, either, and it only serves to confuse him further. “Yes?”

“He wishes to extend his deepest apologies for not being able to be present for your regular meeting, sir.” Who exactly 'he' is goes unspoken. “He hopes to be back in a week’s time.”

His heart plummets. A full week, bereft of the other man’s company? He doesn’t think he’s been without him that long since he’s awoken. “Of course. I can only imagine what’s drawn him away is of the utmost importance.”

“Very important, sir. Top secret stuff.” The courier nods, pleased. “Do you have a message in return?”

He thinks for a long moment. “’Stay safe.’ And, well, ‘Come back soon.’”

The courier nods again before she bows and disappears from the room. As soon as the door shuts, it feels just a little darker than it was before.

Tristan dismisses it. He can survive a week without the other man. He didn’t even know him until a few months ago, anyway, and that was only as ‘one of Cicero’s friends.’ He can finally focus on helping to rebuild the Registry, too. Cicero will be glad to hear of that.

He swallows down the lump in his throat and gets back to reading.

He leaves his room of his own volition the next day, wandering and searching. He eventually finds Cicero’s office after several bouts of ‘walk, find a chair and sit for ten minutes, walk, repeat’. When he knocks, there’s the sound of paper flying, and then a harried “Come in!”

“Cicero?” Tristan’s voice is hesitant as he pushes the door open with his cane.

“Tristan! Good to see you up and moving!” He’s sitting on the ground, papers strewn all around him on the floor in what must be organized chaos.

“...What are you doing, Cicero?”

“Running a guild, of course. Ages, Tristan, how does the Vaorone even do this. They wanted to name me the Vaorone, too, but I turned it down - I don’t think accepting anything like that is even healthy for me right now, even though I’m practically doing the job anyway. Did you read the report I sent your way?”

Cicero’s always been a nervous talker. Tristan’s mouth curls into a grin, and he steps into the office proper, knocking the door closed behind him with his cane. “Yes, and all seven additions, too.”

“Good! Welcome to the brave new world, Tristan. There’s more paperwork than ever.” He scowls. “I wish I could just turn it all to fey, see if it would fix itself.”

“Come now, Cicero, it can’t be that hard.” His sarcastic tone earns him a glare from the man sitting on the floor.

“Get over here and help me, you ingrate. You had the last few months off, Valencio. There’s plenty of catching up to do.”

He sighs and levers himself down with a little difficulty, looking at the papers with an air of disinterest. “Well, that may have been due to the fact that I nearly sacrificed myself for you, you bastard.” He laughs. “No rest for the weary, huh?”

“Hey, I died, too.” His voice catches on the word ‘died,’ but his smile stays intact. Tristan takes it as a victory. “And no rest indeed. Come on, I don’t even know half these Portieri’s names but I’m expected to organize the rosters-”

A week passes in barely a blink once Tristan becomes reaccustomed to actually working rather than recovering. Without a Vaorone to lead them, the Registry looks to its Valencio for guidance, and it is a job and a half to try and keep what’s left of it standing.

So the week passes, and there’s not a whisper of Vasco. It’s fine. Tristan feels the loss of their time like a mosquito’s bite - his eyes pass to the clock everyday at their regular time, and when the flautist doesn’t appear, he packs away his disappointed and keeps focused. Something’s itching at him about it, though, as if not all is right in the world.

He dismisses the dour thoughts and keeps focused on pulling his guild back together.

They’re three days into week two before Tristan asks Kalden, “Have you seen Vasco?”

Kalden stops where he’s inspecting the scarring on Tristan’s stump, looking at Tristan with open concern. “No, I have not - not for the past week or so. Why do you ask?”

Tristan mumbles a response he can’t remember as soon as he says it, something meaningless. Kalden’s expression morphs to something unplaceable, brow furrowing and lips quirking as though he has a question to ask Tristan in return, but he says nothing. He just returns to his inspection, asking Tristan questions about his health (fine), his appetite (growing), his strength (returning), and his mascherine (usable).

He raises his eyebrow at the last answer, and Tristan shrugs.

Kalden sends him away with a clean bill of health and an appointment to return next week with any changes, and Tristan leaves the office leaning a little heavier on his cane as he walks, feeling unbalanced.

It is a full two weeks before Tristan mentions it to Cicero. They’re in his office, surrounded by paper (fortunately all contained to the desk this time, but surrounded nonetheless).

“Have you seen Vasco recently?” He tries to keep his voice nonchalant, conversational, but there’s more nervousness in his tone than he’d like.

“No. Why? I’m sure he’s doing...” Cicero waves a hand. “Important things.”

Tristan nods, still frowning.

Cicero looks at him strangely, cocking his head. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, I just-” He’s speaking too fast, and he can feel the stutter like a trip in his tongue. He takes a moment to think of his words. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, is all.”

“Mmm.” Cicero’s grin is far too smarmy for Tristan’s tastes. “That’s it? Nothing else?”

Tristan scowls. “What else would there be, Cicero?”

Cicero searches his face for a moment, grin implacable, before it slowly falls. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing. You shouldn’t worry too much, Tristan. He can handle himself.”

“I’m not worried. I’m no mother hen.” He doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend himself, only that he does.

Cicero shakes his head, a beat away from laughing. “Of course, Tristan. Whatever you say."

“I’m serious, Cicero!”

Cicero dissolves into laughter, which dissolves into Tristan smacking the back of his head, which further dissolves into the two of them getting into a petty slap-fight that ends when Cicero concedes defeat under Tristan’s one-handed assault.

Tristan is alone in his room-turned-office - he's been here so long the space has become unofficially-officially his own, especially since his rooms at the Spire are no doubt ruined. He's had the second bed removed, a small chest of drawers placed against the wall, and a proper writing desk installed. 

Currently, he is working on penning a letter; not to anyone in particular, but he finds it easiest to gather his thoughts when he writes them out. Increasingly, his thoughts have been focused on a certain absent Dirge.

He occupies my thoughts incessantly. I'm uncertain as to why - over the past months I have begun to count him among my closest acquaintances, regardless of our turbulent history. He has become a fixed point in my life, our meeting times a cherished space, and I have been bereft of his company for too long. I hope he retur-

“Is that my name? Oh, are you writing a letter to me? I'll cover my eyes - hey!”

Tristan whips around, quill dropped against the page in favor of the cane that leans against the desk. He brandishes it at the figure who's snuck into his rooms, ready to give them a sound thrashing, when he realizes that it's none other than Vasco himself.

“Vasco?”

“Surprise! Also, please stop threatening me with the cane. It's very rude to greet friends with a threatening cane-”

He's interrupted once more by Tristan levering up from his chair and launching himself at Vasco with a hug. He wraps his arms around Tristan in kind not a moment later, tucking his face into the crook of Tristan’s neck in a tight embrace.

“If this is the welcome I'll get whenever I leave…”

“As long as I'm around, it will be,” Tristan says, and means it. Having the man gone had made more of a void in Tristan’s life than he was willing to admit, but now that he’s back?

Vasco’s face twists into something Tristan can't quite name but smooths into an easy smile after a beat. “Well. Can't say I deserve all that after leaving so abruptly, but. Thank you.”

Tristan laughs. “Don't think I've forgotten so quickly, Tessitore. Almost three weeks gone, and not a work besides a messenger on the first day that says you'll be back within the week?”

“I planned to be back within the week,” he grouses, pouting, “but things rarely go according to plan around here.” He waves a hand in the air. “But everything is fixed, all is right in the world, and your favorite airbrand is back.”

“Cicero never left.” His voice is deadpan.

Vasco pulls away, holding both hands over his heart and swooning dramatically. “You wound me, fair Valencio."

That pulls a grin from Tristan. Vasco breaks his pose and leans against him, an arm slung over his shoulders. “What say we have another adventure, hm? I realize it's a little late, of course, but I can protect you. I promise on my honor.” The arm over his shoulders grips him tighter for a moment with the words. 

Tristan laughs and nods his head. Maybe Vasco’ll tell him more about where he went, too. “Lead the way.”

To Tristan’s surprise, a carriage is waiting for them outside Seimora’s Throne.

“Where are we going, Vasco?”

Vasco only grins. This can mean nothing good.

The Tvothes greet him with a wave and a smile. He's glad to see them hale - the last time he'd seen them had been on the way to the Spire. Ricardo looks fit to fall asleep, however, and Alena nudges him to attention with an elbow.

“Good evening, sirs!” Alena grins. “Off to-”

“The place we discussed? Yes, perfect, thank you,” Vasco interrupts, giving Alena a wink and a conspiratorial grin. Why is everyone grinning so much?

Alena nods. “Of course! Hop in, won't be long!”

Tristan looks between the both of them, an eyebrow raised, before being nudged onto the carriage. Vasco settles in next to him, warm against his side in the cooling night, and all of this casual contact after weeks of nothing has Tristan feeling a little off-balance.

“It’s a little ways away, sadly, so if you want to nap along the way, feel free. I can keep myself occupied.”

Tristan nods even though he doesn’t think he’ll sleep.

Five minutes after they set off, he’s already dozing to the gentle rock of the carriage.

[lasselantanariel]

Steam and Shadow: Birds Of A Feather Book 1: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Qeloura, Qaceor Province.

(16, Fearn. Night.)

(In the air over Bronfaire Harbor)

Two days. Takara sighed. It would’ve been faster, but they’d lost a day to bad weather. It would’ve been a fairly pleasant trip if it wasn’t so crowded, but the Crow was an airship built for speed and carrying covert messages, not passengers. She’d had to bribe the two pilot team to take her aboard, and she was Guild for sea’s sake! How Brann had gotten them to fly a private message to him she’d never know. Silver-tongued crafty-

“Nearly there.” The night pilot -Vesna- spoke, breaking the silence for the first time in hours. “We’ll be dropping you at the Qeloura cliff docks, you’re on your own from there. We’ve no business near Hagsfjori, and I won’t risk the Circle’s wrath at our being late for you.”

Takara rolled her eyes behind the woman’s back. “Naturally.” She glanced out the port-side window as they flew lower through the mists, she could make out the lights of the upper docks on the cliffs.

She hadn’t been to Qeloura before, but she suspected Brannigan knew it well. He was quiet about his past, but she’d picked up on small clues over the years. As a rule, they both avoided sharing too much personal information, in their business that sort of thing was unwise at best. She knew he'd lived near Sorrow Watch though, he'd been drinking once, and sang a lovely and slightly depressing song about it. Qasceor had an abundance of those, due to their history. And their love of storytelling. He didn’t speak of his family, or why he left, but she got the impression the two were connected somehow. She could relate to that.

“Oy, Vasco!” Vesna called to her sleeping twin, “Wake up! We need to lower the ropes, so miss Hamasaki here can get out.”

There was a bear-like groan from the rear of the ship, and the bifold partition that separated the cockpit from the tiny living space opened to reveal a tired man with long dark hair, and two bunks behind him. He glanced at Takara as he made his way to the hatch. “Best get your things together, my sister's apparently impatient tonight.”

“Speed is our job darling,” Vesna called, steering the ship closer to the upper dock, “it's what we're paid for.”

Her twin rolled his eyes at Takara, smiling as he cast the mooring ropes through the hatch with practiced ease, snagging them on a cleat, and pulling the ship to. “Thank you for flying Crow Air, watch your step and please come again!”

“Or don’t!” Sang his sister.

Takara snorted as she jumped out, and gave the twins a wave before turning to face the dark town. Her nose wrinkled at the familiar scent of sea air. Not a problem. She wasn’t going to be here long anyway, just passing through. Just ignore it. She heard voices nearby and walked towards them curiously.

----------------

Qeloura, Upper Docks

Suleeta was about to respond when Askari’s stance shifted, the faint glow of the lanterns glinting off something metallic on her back. Suleeta’s gaze caught on the large sniper rifle barely hidden by the other woman’s cloak. Her body tensed once more, she was talking to a mercenary, possibly even an assassin. Whatever this woman wanted Gavin’s relative for, it was not likely to be a friendly chat. She carefully palmed one of the experimental vials off her apron. “Perhaps another time..”

---------------

Gavin froze in the tavern doorway. She was back. He’d been sure he lost his shadow weeks ago, she’d been so ill after that awful tavern in Caorthannba, he thought she’d given up! Now she was talking to Suleeta, were they working together? That’d be his luck, a mad fire-starter and a mercenary both after him. What in the great Stormbringer’s name had his mother gotten him into?! He was about to slip away when he realized something was wrong, although both women wore smiles, their body language was tense. Suleeta was reaching for something…oh no, she wouldn’t. He rushed forward, too late, being thrown back by the explosion “Not again!”

-----------------

Not again! This couldn’t be happening! Takara’s blood froze as the world exploded around her, and she skidded across the ground. Fire. Smoke. Gunpowder. Salt and the sound of waves. Burning. Her head was filled with the sounds of cannons and shouting. So much blood...so many bodies...No! This wasn’t real! She tried to move but her legs wouldn’t respond. Sand everywhere, so hard to run through smoke and sand. She struggled, pushing through the fighting masses to where she’d seen him fall. Not caring which side they were on, only on finding him. The image of her father falling, falling through the smoke, knowing she was too late, and praying her eyes had lied, tears burned in her eyes, so much blood...all her fault...arms grabbed her, pulling her back, pulling her away “No!” She screamed, her sister’s scream echoing in her ears “NO!”

“Calm down!” Her captor shook her slightly, tightening their grip. Her eyes locked hazily onto a dark figure with familiar gray eyes. No he hadn't been there, not then...she blinked. The blood and screaming faded, though the smoke remained. Not real. Her heart raced, as she tried to focus. Not real. The gray eyes remained too, but the face which held them was a stranger to her. “Who are you?”

“Well, there's gratitude. You're welcome for being pulled away from the fire and not allowed to back yourself over the cliff and fall to your death, it was no trouble at all. Especially when you screamed in my ear.”  

Takara reddened, pushing her away. “Thank you, I'm fine now, just...just brought back some bad memories is all.”

“So I gathered.” The tall woman sat back, looking her over thoughtfully, her gray eyes focusing on Takara’s cape. “Where did you get this?” Her hand reached out to touch the sleeve.

“From a friend.” Takara pulled the fabric away, her eyes narrowing.

The woman's eyebrows rose “Indeed. Not many people have friends in the Paswellan navy. Not many officers give away their coats either.”

“I didn't take it off a dead man if that's what you're implying.”

“Actually I was-” her head whipped around at the sound of voices and running. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere. I believe there are about to be a number of people asking questions about a fire, and we'd do well not to be here when they arrive. I don't think either of us wants that kind of attention right now.” She offered her hand.

Full of misgivings, Takara took it, and the two quickly ran into the shadows, in the opposite direction from the shouting.

-----------------

Kaito stared. “By the rivers what is going on?!” Another fire! He watched from the treeline, as figures scrambled around, rushing to put out the flames before they reached the buildings. Most of the activity seemed to be centered around the tavern. It was amazing how quickly a fire sobered people up. Particularly when their drink was directly in the path of that fire. Kaito shook his head, warily skirting the town, not wanting to be involved again. As he did so he noticed several figures moving through the shadows ahead of him, also away from the fire. He watched their progress suspiciously, “Please don’t be headed north, please don’t be...great. Just great.” With a sigh, Kaito continued his journey north. Right behind the running figures. He’d really better get good news in Hagsfjori.

http://lasselantanariel.deviantart.com/gallery/62581434/Steam-and-Shadow