#feeling proud of a youngster who never lost his way even after he's thrown into the darkness and continue to be proud of his every milestone

[rexonalapis]

People relegating Sige to being 'Wrio and Neuvi's daughter' miss out on the awkwardness and comedy of Wrio trying to get close to what is technically his Matron's kind of an uncle/old friend of family. Who is also old.

fellas is it gay to rizz your mother figure's mother figure? asking for a friend.

[colehasapen]

Eternal - Star Wars (One Shot)

There's a Mandalorian in Anchorhead.

Ben Kenobi hears about it during a trip for supplies into Mos Eisley, slipping unnoticed through the crowds. Its when he passes two settlers that the whispers reach his ears as two women speak to each other in nervously quiet voices, talking about the Mandalorian in black and blue that lingers like a frightening phantom or a bomb primed to explode, asking around about 'the desert hermit', and Ben falters.

There's only one Mandalorian welcomed on Tatooine, employed by Jabba the Hutt and unwilling to share his coin pouch, and Ben knows that Boba would warn him if something changed about the Imperial bounty on his head. Boba was a good lad in need of guidance and advice - hardened by the world and tragedy far too early, and still so young in so many ways, despite his complaints that he wasn’t a child anymore. It hadn’t been easy to win the boy’s trust when he had come to his hut all those years ago, arrogant and angry and intent on collecting the massive bounty on his head himself, but Ben had worn him down - a part of him needing a young soul to guide and nurture to feel some sort of control in his life - and the child had been so desperate for a connection to his father’s culture that even Ben’s poor substitute was enough. Boba would have warned him, had he known, because as angry as he was at the world, the young man held tight to the things he considered as his, and as much as he complained and claimed that he didn’t like Ben, the youngster had yet to actually do anything to get his bounty. In fact, he actively kept other hunters away.

So when he hears the rumours of a Mandalorian bounty hunter that wasn’t Boba poking around looking for him, Ben adjusts the bags in his hands, carefully pulls his hood over his face, and calmly slips off the main market road and into the nearest alley. A simple mind trick has the youth gang gathered in the shadows splitting up and heading home to rethink their life choices, and Ben slides into their place, wedging himself between two dumpsters. It’s hard now, to slip into meditation and expand his senses, knowing that he’ll be met with the yawning Darkness in the Force and the lack of the Light of his fellow Jedi in the galaxy, it’s easy to find himself slipping endlessly without a tether until he doesn’t know who he is anymore, but little Luke Skywalker is a calming beacon of light, a sun among dead stars, and his presence in the Force chases off the clinging Darkness and makes it easier for Ben, as broken as he is, to focus.

Mandalorians are surprisingly easy to find in the Force, if one knows what they’re looking for - an indistinct mass shielded by the beskar they wore - but they’re also as rare to stumble upon as a trained Force Sensitive, hunted and scattered almost as much as the Jedi are. They’re a threat, and the Empire made an example of them. A warning to any others of what would happen should they try to fight back against the Emperor. Anyone who could be outwardly identified as Mando’ade had at least a little beskar on their person, even Satine had weaved it into her headdresses, and it was a connection to their lost culture and home that they guarded jealously, even as the Empire collected any and all of the rare metal it came across, often through violent means.

Even the smallest amount of beskar worked to make a Force signature unidentifiable, and for people like Ben, who had worn and owned beskar, the imprints the alloy left on the galaxy around it is easy to locate.

He finds the headache-inducing Force signature in his hut. A fuzzy, staticy spot in the Force with only the faintest of traces of nostalgic emotions sparking among their mind, and the familiar signature of Ben’s lightsaber reaches out to them, an excited greeting like an old love had finally come home.

 

 

Alpha-17 comes out of the rise of the Empire with his sense of self intact through sheer dumb luck - apparently all those explosions Alpha had powered through came with some sort of perks, beyond the general sense of awe and fear his inability to die inspired among the brats. He stubbornly avoids the same fate his fellow Alpha-classers meet, staying too useful as a trainer for it to be worth putting down or in stasis as he bides his time and plans his escape.

There’s nothing he can do for the younger troopers, and he’s forced to come to terms with the fact quickly when he sees the blankness in the eyes of the men he had trained. It’s a punch to the guts, one he can’t show, when he passes Havoc and Blitz in the hall and they show no familiar recognition to him or each other - they’re silent, blank, and unrecognizable from the cadets Alpha had thrown around during training. It feels like he’s drowning when Cody shows up and there’s no personality, no burning fire, in his blank eyes as the tactical genius and determined field commander is assigned to a glorified desk job to give a natborn whelp the rank he had been so proud of. There’s none of Wolffe’s feral determination to protect, or Bly’s gentle kindness - and both of them disappear quickly, taken away quietly in the night for decommissioning when they break. So many empty faces and cold eyes, and sometimes it feels like Alpha is choking.

He had raised all of them, and it hurts to see them as walking corpses - it hurts more that he can’t help them.

So Alpha bides his time until he sees an opportunity and takes it. Fox is killed on a mission with Lord Vader, and a new Purge Trooper is needed to replace him - who better than the trooper that had trained him? Alpha adds the clever little cadet and broken man he had known to his remembrances as he puts on his new armour - black-painted beskar’gam, because Vader’s personal death squad were the best and thus needed the best - and marches to face his fate.

They’re hunting surviving Mandalorian commandos when Alpha sees his chance to shed the helmet of a clone and strip out of the ugly red pauldron of a purge trooper, to take up a buy’ce and a new identity. To the Empire, Alpha-17 dies on Concordia, one victim of many to fall in the mines, body buried by tonnes of rocks that would be his tomb. But Alpha lives, he survives, and he finally does the one thing he had always dreamed of doing, but never did because he had vod’e to protect and refused to be like Spar and leave them all behind.

He deserts.

His brothers and sisters are as good as dead now - in fact, death would probably be preferable to what had become of them - and Alpha lets himself disappear. He becomes nameless, faceless, but this time it’s a choice - he becomes ‘ Mando ’, a ruthless bounty hunter with a hatred for Imperials. Any stormtrooper he comes across is put down with a quick, efficient, shot through the head because Alpha doesn’t know anymore which are vod’e and which are the poorly trained natborns that replace them. The Empire only makes half-hearted attempts to kill him, at best, because he’s good at what he does and the Guild doesn’t want to lose him.

He uses his new contacts to listen for any possible Jedi sightings, because he knows that his jetii is still alive. The massive bounty on the General’s head isn’t just for show, afterall, and Alpha knows that the smug sheb is too dramatic to just roll over and die when he could continue living just to piss people off.

Alpha’s already lost everything else - his brothers and sisters, his rank, his purpose - he doesn’t want to lose the only man he’d ever loved too.

Their relationship hadn’t been the steadiest - Kenobi had been his superior, a Jedi that he served because he had to, but then Rattatak and Ventress had happened, and a professional respect had turned into something more through their captivity and recovery. After that, Alpha had been promoted and reassigned to Kamino as a trainer, and he had been answering to a different Jedi General instead. They had taken any moment together that they could, because their duties had led them on different paths, and it hadn’t been easy, because Alpha was a cold bastard at the best of times and Obi-Wan’s inability to properly express himself had come between them, but they had always tried to do better by each other - but it was all gone now.

And maybe Alpha wants more. He wants the stability and support Obi-Wan had always offered him after the loss of everything he had ever known, and he wants to offer it in turn - to have a purpose again. But Alpha is a realist, he knows that it’s not likely that he’ll actually find his lover out there in the galaxy if he doesn’t want to be found as much as Alpha wants to find him, so he keeps his goals a little more realistic. He passes his information anonymously onto the fledgling Rebellion, throwing them what he knows on the postings of vod’e , hoping that what little he can do will help, so he keeps his ear to the ground and continues to give the information onto the Rebellion.

It’s the news about Boba working for Jabba the Hutt that has Alpha flying to Tatooine, intent on hunting his brother down. He hadn’t seen Boba since before Geonosis, before everything had gone to shit and Aurra Sing had gotten her claws into the boy. He’d be nineteen now, Alpha knows - an adult, but still young in the way the other clones aren’t, despite being the first, and alone. He knows his little-big brother can take care of himself, that he’s talented and deadly, but he’s also one of the few free clones that exist, and Alpha wants to at least check in on him.

It’s on Tatooine that Alpha first hears the name Ben Kenobi, and hears the legends of the crazy hermit living in the Dune Sea. The native Sand People of the planet call him a mournful god and they leave offerings so that misfortune isn’t brought upon them. The settlers call him either a crazy old man or the wizard of the wastes. There’s only one thing everyone agrees on - don’t anger the man who lives in the desert. More than one story about thugs trying to shake him down for money includes coming back not fully the same, and Alpha recognizes the description of a mind trick when he hears it.

He’s one of the few people who knows Obi-Wan’s connection to the name Ben, the story behind it, and it’s in meeting young Luke Skywalker and his aunt that Alpha knows that he found him.

 

The Force holds no warnings as Ben approaches his hut, just the opposite in fact, as it tugs on his robes like an excited child and urges him forwards, but Ben still palms his blaster as he pushes the door open and steps inside. There’s a man sitting at his table, helmetless, and he looks up when Ben closes the door behind him - in his hands, Ben’s lightsaber sings in greeting for the first time in a long time, since it had gone quiet all those years ago, love and the feeling of home chasing away the silence of blood and tragedy.

His bag slips from numb fingers.

Bottomless brown eyes so dark they’re closer to black meet his gaze. They’re fathomless and deep, drawing him in and drowning him in their depths, holding so many emotions that he feels like he’s choking even as he breathes. The handsome bronze face is older than Ben remembers, with more lines and scars than before, and tight black curls are splashed with gray - he’s a decade older than he was, but his face is still familiar and comforting - frightening too, because it brings back the memories of bodies young and old killed in their home by those they trusted, and makes the thousands of broken bonds in his soul ache with the weight of emptiness.

He stares, hand falling away from the blaster at his hip, and the man stands. The armour is different, but Ben recognizes the pattern painted on the black beskar, now accompanied by splashes of gold stating his desire for vengeance for everyone to see, pauldron missing and a shorter kama swinging around his knees.

“General.” The man states, voice gruff and Concord Dawn accent strong, though it’s so much more hesitant than Ben ever has a memory of hearing. His lover was never hesitant, not even when they had first started their secret little rendezvous; he was always assured, confident, and strong - even when chained and brutalized. “ Cyare. ”

Ben shudders, blinking but unable to tear his gaze away from those dark eyes, and his voice breaks when he speaks. “I haven’t heard that in a long time.”

He tries for humorous, and it falls short, but even then the other man smiles, a sad, quiet little thing that spoke of grief and heartbreak and exhaustion.

He’s real.

He’s here .

“Haven’t said it either.” Alpha-17 flips the lightsaber in his hands, stepping closer and closer still until they’re chest-to-chest and in each other’s space for the first time in years, and Ben shivers. “Thought you were always telling those brats of yours that their weapons were their lives.” The man says gruffly, and with a click the weight of his lightsaber is added to his belt, but even then Ben can’t look away from Alpha’s gaze. The other man doesn’t seem intent on looking away either, and large, warm hands linger on his hips, making heat travel from the touch and circulate through his body.

“Hello Alpha.” Ben whispers, reaching between them to grip the edges of his armour, to press his fingers around them to seek out the warmth of another living being for the first time in a long time. He can’t make his voice louder than a shaky sigh, throat tight and heart pounding in his chest.

Alpha continues to stare like a dying man who had seen the other side and wanted more, leaning into his touch until there was no space left between them. “ Su cuy’gar .” He says, awed, like he couldn’t fully believe it, and his fingers spasm, drawing the former Jedi even closer to him, as if he would vanish if he let go. The armour presses uncomfortably against him, but Ben can’t bring himself to care as Alpha presses their foreheads together, noses touching, and every breath mingling. “You’re here.” Alpha says, “I found you.”

“Yes.” Against all the odds, he had.

“ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum .” His voice is hushed, reverent, and Ben chuckles wetly for lack of what else to do.

“I haven’t heard that for some time either.” He says, instead of what his head is telling him, that he’s undeserving of such sentiment, as he leans into the pressure on his brow and closes his eyes. He can’t cry, not anymore - he has no tears left to shed.

“You’ll hear it for as long as I breathe.” Alpha vows, and Ben shudders again at the truth of that statement that rings in the Force like a bell. “As long as you’ll have me.”

“You’ve become awfully sentimental, my dear.” Ben chokes, and Alpha huffs, breath fanning against his lips.

“After everything - I think we’ve both earned a little sentimentality.” The man murmurs, and Ben laughs wetly. “ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum , cyare .”

Ben doesn’t want to let go.

“Stay?” Ben asks, clinging to his lover just as tightly as Alpha clings to him.

“Of course.” Alpha promises, hands sliding away from his hips to cradle his face instead, thumbs brushing oh so gently under his eyes - hands that could destroy droids without issue and kill without hesitation, but had only ever been soft when they touch him. “I said darasuum , didn’t I, ner cyare ?” Ben’s eyes flutter open, meeting Alpha’s deep gaze once more, seeing the love and truth in those dark pools, and -

Oh .

Wet, burning tears drip from his aching eyes, sliding down sunburnt cheeks and over Alpha’s strong fingers, a dark contrast against his pale skin, and his lover tilts his head, gently capturing his chapped lips in a silent promise.

Darasuum .

[vintagevalentinex]

Wings

This has been a labor of love.  It is the longest story that I have written to date and I have to say I’m quite proud of it.  I have had this Cas/Reader story in my head for such a long time and I’m so happy that I was finally able to get it out.

Please let me know what you think!

Tags under the cut at the bottom! :)

Title: Wings Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~4775 Pairing: (Castiel x Reader) Warnings: Major FLUFF. Brief mention of torture/violence.  Brief angst.

Wing /wɪŋ/ noun: Any of a number of specialized paired appendages that enable some animals to fly, in particular.

You never really took into consideration how important some things were until they were gone, or even became damaged.  You could remember when you were eleven years old when you broke your arm.  You had to wear that stupid pink cast and that sling for nearly a month.  It was difficult getting dressed, bathing, eating, and you had to rely on other people for nearly everything.  Being the precocious, independent youngster that you were, it was difficult having to lean on other people to get things accomplished.  It was then that you realized how some parts of your body are like extensions of yourself (literally).  While by the end of the month you were figuring out how to get things done without the aid of one of your arms, you were certainly grateful to finally get the cast off.  That memory had stuck with you though.  It made you not take anything for granted, and it gave you compassion toward other people who may be going through a rough time.  

Which is why you could understand why Castiel was so upset and self-conscious about his wings.

You remember the first time you saw his wings.  He was a solider of Heaven; fierce and powerful and you watched with awe as he smote demon after demon as you lay incapacitated on the ground.  Your vision went in and out, but you could have sworn you saw a magnificent shadow, shaped in the form of wings, the span of which you had never seen before in any kind of animal.  As you lay bleeding out you saw bursts of light, the shadow of wings continuing to flicker against any wall they faced.  When it was finally over, you thought for a moment that you were going to pass on, but Castiel’s glowing blue eyes kept you awake, always in a trance-like state as he bent down, his gaze softening as he pressed two fingers to your forehead, murmuring something about trying to relax.

When you woke you were greeted by those same beautiful blue eyes, albeit not glowing now.  He was staring at you worriedly, his face showing signs of relief as you finally came to.

“You lost so much blood, (Y/N).”

“I…I’m…sorry?”

He looked at you bewildered, his lips forming into a small, shy smile.  “You are such a fascinating creature.”  With that, you heard the all too familiar flutter of wings as he left, a dopey smile on your face, visions of blue eyes unable to fade out of your mind as you fell back asleep.

It was a long time later when you were gifted with the opportunity of seeing Castiel’s wings again.  You were fighting side by side, something that was happening more frequently while Sam and Dean tried to find a cure for the Mark of Cain.  Castiel would take you on excursions to question rogue angels, trying to figure out where Metatron was hiding.  If there was anyone who knew, it might be him.  The both of you were nearly inseparable during that time.  You had watched him go through everything—losing his grace, being kicked out of the Bunker, learning about his “extracurricular” affair with April (which for some reason really rubbed you the wrong way), watching Dean turn into a demon, and finding the rest of his grace.  You had seen the toll all of these ordeals had done on him.  The once curious, awkward angel was now weary and jaded; the wonderment he once had about the world was gone.

Naturally this broke your heart.  You had longed for the shy smiles the angel seemed to save for only you, and you missed teaching him about the subtleties of human existence.  You wanted to speak up, but you found yourself having a difficult time knowing what to even say to Cas.  Hey buddy, why so glum?  Hey there pal, I’ve noticed you’re not as awkwardly adorable as you used to be.  Yeah…that’s definitely not going to work.

You sighed, your mind shifting back to the fight you were currently in, Castiel by your side as you fought more demons.  You were thrown against a wall, crumbling into yourself as you saw the bright light again that you saw so very long ago.  You shielded your eyes, not wanting your eyeballs to melt out of your face, waiting for the blinding light to die down.  Finally you were away to uncover your face, seeing the faintest shadow of his wings.  You heard a gasp, realizing moments later that you were the person who made this noise, seeing the condition of his wings.  Several feathers were missing and currently falling off, the shadows of them fading into nothingness as they hit the ground.  You bit your lip, your heart sinking at how Castiel’s wings looked now.  He had been through so very much and it must have been tiring on his vessel and his grace.  You wondered if there were things that could not be healed by grace.

The flutter of wings signaled Castiel’s presence in front of you as he bent down.  You could see him staring tenderly at you.  “(Y/N)…I am sorry that you are always getting hurt while I’m around…I wish…I wish I could protect you better.”

You tried to smile, feeling his warm fingers going to your forehead, the pain and aches of the fight quickly dissipating.   “It’s okay, Cas…it’s part of the job.”  You put a hand on his bicep, feeling the muscle through his trenchcoat.  “I…I need to tell you something Cas.”

He looked at you inquisitively, tilting his head as he helped you up.  “What is the matter, (Y/N)?”

You fought to meet his eyes, nervous, hoping he wouldn’t be upset with you.  “Well…one of the first time we fought together…I saw your wings…and they were beautiful, enormous and they looked so powerful.”  You swallowed, trying to not look at his face, knowing there would be sorrow etched into his features.  “I saw them again today…they…they looked quite different.”

Castiel looked at you through his eyelashes, unspeaking, nodding as you continued.  “They were so different today.  Your wings…they looked damaged.”

“I have sacrificed many things for the betterment of humans, (Y/N).”

“I know you have, but at what cost, Cas?  What would I…er…we do without you around?  You are so very important.”

“I am but a soldier of Heaven…”

“You are one of us.  You are special to me, Cas.  And we need to get you better.  Please…please let me help you heal.”

You made it your personal mission to help him heal.

“I do not understand this at all, (Y/N)…”

You laughed as you plopped down on Sam’s bed, the only room in the Bunker that had Netflix.  That was something you’d definitely have to work on.  You continued to giggle as you watch Castiel try and sit on the bed in his trench coat, shoes still on.  You quirked an eyebrow.

“Seriously, Cas?  Shoes?  Your coat?  Both of them off.  Now.”

“I…but why?”

“Because…” you started, “if Sam finds out I let you sit on his bed with your shoes on, he will never let me watch Netflix again!  Now c’mon!”

You could have sworn you saw him roll his eyes as he finally plopped down next to you, smirking a little as you swayed on the bed from the force of him.  You clicked the TV on with the remote, the dim glow of the screen illuminating the room.

“Would you please explain to me again why this is necessary?”

You sighed, scrolling through the movies and shows on the home screen of Netflix, trying to find something you think that Castiel would like.  “It’s very necessary.  You need to heal.  You are so far done that you can’t heal yourself and you can’t even fly anywhere.  The ordeals you have been through have been very taxing on you, Cas…”

“Yes, I understand that, but why is this…” He motioned to the television, “needed?  Can’t I just lie here?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes.  “Technically no.  But it can be rather enjoyable!  All of these different movies on here all tell different stories of the human experience.  Some are sad, some are angry, some are absolutely hilarious.  The point is that you can step outside of yourself and focus on these stories instead of what you have going on.  It’s nice sometimes to be able to put it off for a while sometimes.”

Castiel nodded, smiling the small, shy smile you have started to adore as he stared intently at the screen, his smile growing larger as you click on a documentary about bees.  You slyly glanced at him, smiling at him fondly, his eyes excited as he watched the screen.  What an adorable dork.

You couldn’t see it, but in the shadows of the room, Castiel’s wings twitched, less feathers fell from them as they started to subtly glitter and dance against the shadows.

“Just humor me.”

You sat in the library of the Bunker with Castiel, swinging your legs as you sat in a chair, nursing a mug of hot chocolate.  You pouted up at him, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, taking another sip of your hot chocolate, unbeknownst to you, a bit of whipped cream resting on your upper lip.

Castiel chuckled as watched you.  As he stepped closer he bent down, taking a thumb to gently wipe your upper lip.  “You had something on your face.  (Y/N)…are you well?  You feel so warm?”

He tilted his head as he looked at you.  You pulled away from him harshly, trying to completely not look like a mess as he touched you.  “I’m…I’m fine, Cas.  It’s just the heat from the hot chocolate!”

He seemed to accept that as an answer as he finally took a seat next to you, a mug that was meant for him.  “What am I supposed to do with this, again?”

You beamed.  “You’re supposed to drink it!  It tastes so good!  Chocolate is amazing!”  You giggled as you watched him eye the steaming mug suspiciously.

“When I consume anything, I can only taste the molecules, (Y/N).  As ‘amazing’ as your hot chocolate sounds, I will not be able to taste it.”

You looked at him sheepishly, hanging your head as you realize your mistake.  “Oh, right.  I’m sorry, Cas.  I should have realized.  That was really stupid of me.”  You chewed on your lip; picking at your fingernails as you looked down, feeling terrible.  You just wanted to make him happy and try to cheer him up a little bit.  

Your head snapped up as you heard the scrape of a chair moving closer to yours.  His chair was butted right alongside yours, armrests flush with each other.  Cas picked up your mug from the table, handing it back to you.  “Please don’t apologize, (Y/N).  Maybe it will taste like something.  I should not have said anything until I tried it.”

Smiling, you took your mug, clanking it with Castiel’s as you both took a sip out of your respectful mugs, you smiling, your face scrunching up as you tasted the warm hot chocolate; Castiel’s’ face scrunching up in disgust as he sipped.

“This is still terrible.”

You giggled softly, shifting as you leaned your head on his shoulder, your toes wiggling in your thick woolen socks as you enjoyed the quiet with Castiel.

Just out of your line of sight, Castiel’s wings were unfurled, yet still fairly barren.  Despite this, his wings did not shed a single feather now, yet still hung rather limp.

Of course the heat wasn’t working properly in the Bunker.  That seemed to be right on par with the day you were having.  You stubbed your toe nearly as soon as you stepped out of your bed this morning, you shrunk your favorite t-shirt in the wash, there wasn’t any coffee left, and Dean ate all the damn pop tarts.  You huffed as you nestled yourself down on the couch, cocooning yourself in several blankets, getting comfy.  You turned on the tv, trying to keep warm.  Hopefully the boys would be back soon to fix the damn furnace.

Unbeknownst to you, Castiel had popped into the Bunker to check up on you, find you fast asleep on the couch.  He smiled softly as he watching you for a while, bundled up in all the blankets.  He watched you for a little while longer, a frown etching onto his mouth as he realized you were still shivering under all of those blankets.  He crouched down, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand, trying to rouse you from sleep.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)…please wake up…” You shifted, your eyes fluttering open slowly to be met by the most beautiful blue ones you had ever had the pleasure to see.  A smile crept its way onto your lips as you groggily answered him.

“Hey, Cas.  Everything okay?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to watch you shiver.  “You are cold, (Y/N).”

You smiled self-consciously at him, averting your eyes.  “Yeah…the heating seems to be on the fritz so I’ve been trying to stay warm…”

Before you could even speak Castiel was moving around the blankets to get into them next to you, not realizing that you were a blushing mess.  It was enough to make you blush to just be near to him, but cuddling under blankets was probably going to kill you.

“Your heart is beating rather fast, (Y/N).  Perhaps I should move closer to try and give you some of this vessel’s warmth.”

You couldn’t even speak as you felt him wrap an arm around you, the heat in your cheeks intensifying.  The both of you sat there for a while, and you found yourself unconsciously moving closer to him as the warmth from his body seeped into yours.  You found yourself dozing off, your head finally lulling onto his shoulder.  Castiel smiles down at you, giving you a firm squeeze as he aimlessly watches whatever is on the television.

He doesn’t know it, but the limpness in his wings is significantly less now, returning to the strength they once were.  The shadows of his wings trembled in the shadows against the walls, the light from the television creating beautiful shapes against the shadows of his wings.

“It is merely a visible mass of condensed water vapor floating in the atmosphere.  I don’t see what is so important about that.”

You sighed, flopping over onto your side, leaning up on an elbow to stare at the angel.  It was a beautiful spring day, and while the sky wasn’t completely cloudless, the beautiful puffy, tufts of white crawling their way through the sky.  Although you had seen many beautiful days, it was nice to be able to spend a moment alone with Castiel.

Castiel.

If anyone reminded you of a beautiful, blue, sunny day, it was him.  You were currently trying your best to not stare for too long at him; he was more observant than he let most people realize.  When he smiled, actually, genuinely smiled, it was as if the sun was warming your skin, the heat intensifying when that smile was directed your way.  His eyes were more captivating that anything you had ever gazed upon; the most beautiful shade of blue that you could ever imagine.  You found yourself growing fonder of him as the days passed and as you spent more and more time with the angel.  He was becoming a facet in your life; a piece of your heart that you did not want to give up.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)…is something wrong with my face?  Are you alright?”

You jerked your head, your nose colliding with Castiel’s forehead; apparently he was much closer now, but you would know that if you weren’t daydreaming.  Your hand immediately went to your face, the crunch of the blow making your eyes water, trying to keep composure.  Castiel was immediately pulling you up, making you move your hand, his eyes full of concern.  He pressed two fingers to your forehead, the warm of his grace flowing through you, healing your nose as if nothing had ever happened.  He held you by your shoulders, leaning in close.

“Please forgive me, (Y/N).  I am so very sorry that I hurt you…I would never want to hurt you.”

You smiled, wiggling your nose.  “See…it’s as good as new.  I promise I’m not mad…”

Castiel continued to look at you like a scolded puppy and you couldn’t help but giggle, his concern for you warming your heart.

“I tell you what.  If you can tell me what that cloud looks like we can call it even.” He rolled his eyes, still not understanding why you would want to do such a trivial thing.  He plopped back down on the ground, taking you with him at his side.  His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought, turning his head to pout at you as you giggled softly at his ‘thinking face’.

“That one there…it seems to resemble the shape of a bee…”

Castiel smiled at you, your lips moving of their own accord to match his grin.  The both of you laid there until the sun hung low in the sky, your eyes growing heavy as you fell into a comfortable, warm sleep.  Castiel brushed the hair out of your face, pressing the softest whisper of a kiss at your hairline, smiling down at you.

You snuggled closer to the warmth of him, the warm spring wind blowing gently, caressing your skin.  Little did you know that Castiel’s wings were flexing and flapping gently, stretching the muscles, creating the breeze you felt.  Feathers no longer fell from his wings.  New fluffy, downy feathers grew in the empty spaces, maturing into the longer, outer layer that so desperately needed to be replaced.

The power had gone out in the Bunker.  Well…not really, but you had turned out all of the lights, your flashlight leading Castiel and you through the hallways.

“(Y/N)…now you’re really confusing me.  This seems extremely unnecessary.  Can’t we just turn all the lights back on and get on with our lives?”

All you did was grin at him as you dragged him to your room, flashlights and candles flicking in the space.  You could see Castiel smiling fondly at your work, his lips curling up into a warm smile as he looked at your creation in the center of the room.  “Did you collect all of the blankets and pillows in the Bunker to create that…umm…”

“Fort.  It’s a fort, Cas.  It’s a blanket fort!  C’mon!”

You dragged him under and into the fort, where more lights and candles illuminated it (good thing you had an angel with you for assistance if you started a fire with all these candles).  After the both of you got settled amongst the blankets and pillows, you set your flashlight aside, the soft light illuminating both of your faces.  You shuffled closer to Castiel, sitting shoulder to shoulder as you wiggled your sock-clad toes.

“Tell me something about yourself, Cas.”

He looked at you confused.  “I don’t understand…”

You smiled, “I want to know more about you, the things you like, what you were like when you were younger…wait…were you ever younger?  Were angels ever babies?!  Please tell me there are such things as angel babies!!”

Castiel openly laughed, noting the flush in your cheeks as his hand “accidentally” brushed against yours.

“I think I understand what you mean now, (Y/N).  Perhaps you should go first.”

You nodded, pondering about what you wanted to tell him.  “Well…when I was little I always used to love camping in the backyard when it was warm enough.  One summer, it seemed to rain every night so I wasn’t able to spend the night outside.  My parents had the amazing idea to create a blanket fort inside so we could spend the night camping in the house.  We gathered up all the blankets and pillows in the house and made the most amazing fort ever.  We stayed up all night telling stories to each other.  It’s the fondest memory I have of them.”

Castiel smiled, taking your hand into his, giving it a firm squeeze.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.  It’s a beautiful memory.”

You smiled back at him, your hand still firmly planted in his.  “Alright, it’s your turn.”

Castiel let go of your hand, causing you to pout momentarily, your frown quickly being replaced with a shy smile as his arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, engulfing you in his warmth.

“When the Earth was new, I enjoyed the time when the animals and all of the creatures were being created.  I was marveled at how each creature is such a masterpiece.  God even let some of the angels help create some of the animals…the platypus for example…one of Gabriel’s creations…”

“No way…you’re making this up!”  You laughed, your head finding its way onto his shoulder.  

He chuckled.  “He also had a lot of input on the giraffe…”  He paused for a moment, turning his head to smile down at you on his shoulder.

“But my fondest memory…that would be…that would have to be several things, (Y/N).  I suppose it could be summed up as one thing, though.  The first time I saw you smile is probably the fondest memory that I have in all of my years…”

You looked up at him, steeling yourself as you bent upward, pressing your lips to his.  The kiss wasn’t overly passionate; it was sweet, and it spoke volumes for you, everything you wanted to say to him at that moment but were unable to say.

The empty spaces on Castiel’s wings were completed filled in now, the strength slowly but surely still coming back to them.  They started to unfurl much more effectively.

“Can you please explain this to me again?”

You pumped your legs as you glided through the air, swinging back and forth on the swing set, the breeze blowing through your hair.  You grinned at you turned your head, watching him move his legs, and unsuccessfully swing.  Hopping off of the swing mid-air, you made your way over to Castiel’s swing, standing behind him.

“You need to push yourself off first to get the momentum going, Cas.”

“I do not understand.”

“Here, lift your feet off the ground…”

You grabbed the chains, pulling the swing back as the bewildered angel looked back at you.  You let go of the chain, pushing him forward.  “Go ahead now, Cas.  Move your legs!”

You watched on as he pumped his legs like you showed him, the swing going higher and higher.  Hopping back on your own swing, you went back to the wonderful task of flying through the air on your swing, completely oblivious to whatever Castiel was doing.  You continued on for a while before all of a sudden your swing stopped abruptly, your back met with a solid wall of muscle.  You let out an audible “oof” as you craned your neck around to look up at Castiel.  “What are you doing, Cas?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

He moved around, now facing you as he grabbed the chains of your swing, he pulled you forward, pulling you up to him as his lips finally found yours, kissing you like you had wanted him to for such a long time.  Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks, completely trusting in the fact that his angelic strength would keep you locked in that position for as long as Castiel so desired.  

There was now a shimmer to Castiel’s wings, as if his grace was pumping through them.  Their strength was just about back to full power; nearly completely healed.

This night could not have been any more perfect.  You were alone with Castiel; the both of you had the motel room to yourselves for the night while Sam and Dean did some reconnaissance of a warehouse where they believed a nest of vampires were staying.  Castiel held you in his arms, swaying the both of you to the faint music on the radio.  You snuggled into his chest, letting him move you to the music, breathing him in.  You murmured softly, “I can’t remember a time where I was ever so happy, Cas.  You are so incredibly important to me and I feel so deeply for you.”

Castiel halted your movements, taking both of your hands into his own, pressing them to his lips.  

“Ever since I’ve been with the Winchesters, I have felt as though I have straddled both Heaven and Earth; no longer belonging to either place.  It has been a feeling I have been struggling with for years.  Spending this time with you has taught me that although I do not belong to either place, all I need is to belong to you, and that keeps me sated.  I feel whole because you feel like home.”

You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes as you reached up to kiss him, putting everything that you are into his lips, your arms wrapping around him, your body pressed flushed against his.  “Cas…I don’t even know what to say right now…”

“Then don’t.  Just feel with me.  Be at home with me, (Y/N).”

Castiel’s wings, now fully healed wrapped around you, shielding you from potential dangers and keep you close to him.  You couldn’t see them, but it was as though you felt a blanket of comfort and warmth draped around you.

That was the most important, most beautiful memory you had.  They say when you are about to die, your most important memories replay in your mind.  Your mind kept showing you memories of the time you had spent with Castiel everything from simple little moments, up until the moment you knew that the both of you loved each other.

The demons tortured you relentlessly, trying to get a location of the Winchesters out of you.  Naturally you didn’t tell them a single thing, which obviously pissed them off.  They beat you down, leaving you within mere moments of death, your vision blurring, fingers growing cold.  All you could think of was Castiel, his blue eyes burned into your memory.  

As if out of nowhere, a near-blinding white light filled the room in which you were being held, the force of it almost painful.  You struggled to close your eyes, worried that you may not be able to open them again.  You could see the magnificent form of wings, full and lush, against one of the back walls.  It took a while for your eyes to focus, but as they do, you see blue, nearly crying as you see the beautiful eyes of your lover.

Without a word he smites them all, quickly coming to your aid, his gaze becoming pained as he takes in your pitiful state.  His voice is strained as he speaks.  “Please forgive me for not getting here sooner…”

Castiel pressed his lips to your forehead, his grace flowing into you, healing you, bringing you back from the brink of death.  He literally kissed away your wounds, gathering you up into his arms.  You looked up at him, your beautiful, brave, selfless angel and you smiled, feeling so very grateful that you did not have to part with him yet; you were blessed with more time with him, precious time that you would never take for granted.

“I love you, Castiel.”

“There is nothing more precious to me in the entirety of existence than you, (Y/N).  ‘I love you’ does not have enough depth to describe what I feel for you.”

You smiled, arms wrapping around his neck.  “I saw them, you know.  Your wings…well at least what my eyes would allow me to see.  They looked amazing!  When I first saw them, they were…well…nearly bare.  But now…they are glorious!”

He smiled down at you thoughtfully.  “Yes, they are completely healed.  I never imagined that they would be returned to their unblemished state, knowing the condition that they were in.  However, it seems that spending time with you has healed them, healed me.  I will spend the rest of eternity taking care of you.  But first…I think we will need to make sure you are completely healed.”

You kissed him, feeling content, knowing that you were finally home as well.

@abaddonwithyall @bovaria @icecream-and-gadreel @bkwrm523 @aprofoundbondwithdean @for-the-love-of-dean @castielspahdehrah @spnashley @spnfanficpond @orlislilypad @oriona75 @blushingsamgirl @kittenofdoomage @nebulanoxx @mrswhozeewhatsis @but-deans-back-tho @ilostmyshoe-79 @mysupernaturalfics @manawhaat @deans-colette @thegleegeneration @pada-ackles @sis-tafics @theerinpage @ohfora67impala @fulldisclosureash

I tried to tag everyone I could think of!

[rebeltypedarc1-blog]

Family

    FAMILY  WAS  ALWAYS  A  COMPLICATED  WORD  FOR  DUNCAN.     the  youngest  of  three  brothers,  it  was  obvious  that  duncan  was  definitely  an  unplanned  child  that  probably  wasn’t  something  either  of  his  parents  had  expected,  especially  considering  the  near  six  year  age  between  duncan  and  his  elder  brother,  alexander,  and  the  over  eight  year  age  between  him  and  his  eldest  brother,  edward.     being  the  youngest  with  the  age  gaps  being  what  they  were,  it  often  meant  that  duncan  was  the  one  left  out,  he  was  always  too  small,  too  weak,  too  young  to  be  able  to  join  in  with  whatever  his  brothers  were  doing,  they  often  resulted  in  just     IGNORING     him  and  acting  like  he  isn’t  there   the  truehearts  are  a  tough  family  to  belong  to,  they’re  a  family  of  generational  police  officers,  everyone  in  the  family  from  grandparents,  aunts  and  uncles,  cousins,  siblings  and  his  parents  are  all  police  officers  in  some  way,  with  a  respect  for     ORDER  AND  CONTROL     .     duncan  was  one  of  the  first  in  his  family  in  a  long  time  to  really  question  why  he  should  follow  the  family  into  the  police  force,  wanting  to  form  his  own  path  and  make  his  own  decisions  about  his  life,  instead  of  doing  something  he  felt  forced  to  do.     his  way  of  trying  to  break  free  from  the  family’s  mould  of  being  a  police  officer  was  to     REBEL     and  act  out  in  hopes  of  finally  getting  some  attention  and  being  able  to  make  his  own  path,  even  if  that  was  something  quite  opposite  from  his  family.

    THE  REBELLIOUS  SIDE  OF  DUNCAN  HAD  ALWAYS  BEEN  THERE,     just  as  he  got  older  and  bolder,  the  more  extreme  the  rebellion.     at  first,  his  parents  thought  nothing  of  their  youngest  son  getting  into  small  fights  at  school,  having  a  little  bit  of  an  issue  of  taking  things  that  weren’t  his,  just  thinking  it  was  a  phase  that  he  would  grow  out  of.     stephen,  his  father,  thought  that  duncan  needed  more  order,  enrolling  him  in  the  muskrat  boys  when  he  was  seven,  which  he  would  eventually  be  kicked  out  of  at  age  eleven,  after  he  burnt  down  one  of  the  tents  in  an  ‘ accidental ’  smore  experiment.     another  attempt  to  get  more  control  and  respect  into  his  youngest  son  was  his  attempt  to  send  duncan  away  to  a  youngster’s  police  academy  summer  camp,  which  of  course  did  not  go  down  well.     duncan  had  insisted  for  ages  that  he  did  not  want  to  go  and  if  his  dad  forced  him  to  go,  he’d  make  him     REGRET     the  decision.     three  days  after  dropping  him  off,  his  parents  were  back  to  pick  him  up,  where  a  smug  twelve  year  old  clearly  stated     i  told  ya  i  didn’t  wanna  go.     but  as  duncan  reached  his  teen  years,  first  came  the  dyed  hair,  the  piercings  and  the  tattoos,  the  more  criminal  his  rebellion  became,  which  resulted  in  many  arrests  and  several  stints  in  juvenile  detention     -     CRIMES  INCLUDED  ARE  :     THEFT,  VANDALISM,  AUTO  THEFT,  JOYRIDING  A  POLICE  CAR,  ARSON,  POSSESSION,  RESISTING  ARREST.     however,  his  family  ties  to  the  police  force  probably  is  what  allowed  him  shorter  sentences,  longer  paroles  and  allowing  him  to  do  his  parole  through  being  an  active  cast  member  in  total  drama.

    DUNCAN’S  NEED  TO  REBEL  AND  CAUSE  CHAOS  DEFINITELY  CAUSES  RIFTS  IN  HIS  FAMILY.     he  has  an  obvious  rivalry  with  his  older  brother,  alexander,  who  enjoys  taunting  and  picking  on  duncan,  with  a  bad  habit  of  being  flirty  with  any  of  duncan’s  girfriends,  including  courtney.     alexander  would  love  nothing  more  than  to  be  the  one  to  arrest  duncan  for  something  he  did  wrong,  especially  since  the  last  thing  he  did  before  going  to  juvie  and  appearing  on  total  drama  island,  was  hotwire  alexander’s  police  cruiser,  take  it  for  a  joyride  and  leave  it  somewhere  to  burn     -     stephen  was  the  one  who  actually  turned  duncan  over  and  made  sure  that  he  went  to  juvie.     eliza,  his  mother,  is  always  the  first  one  to  duncan’s  defence  from  his  brothers  and  father,  however  she  is  often     DISAPPOINTED     in  the  way  her  youngest  son  has  chosen  to  go  about  his  life,  she  was  deprived  of  so  many  milestones  because  of  his  stints  in  juvie,  including  his  high  school  graduation  since  he  got  his  ged  in  juvie.     as  much  as  he  is  closest  with  his  mom,  often  allowing  himself  to  be  softer  with  her,  he  doesn’t  like  that  she  also  would  have  been  happier  if  he  had  just  followed  the  family  into  the  police  force.     duncan  is  insistent  in  making  his  own  path,  no  matter  the  consequences,  no  matter  where  he  might  end  and  how  he  gets  there.

    ALLOWING  HIMSELF  TO  FALL  IN  LOVE  WITH  COURTNEY  CALLAHAN  COMES  HOPE,     a  hope  for  everyone  that  duncan  would  be  steered  off  the  destructive  path  that  he  was  already  on  and  he  would  find  his  real  purpose  in  life.     his  mom  sees  the  softer  side  in  her  son  growing  stronger,  becoming  more  obvious  and  it  has  a  good  benefit  within  the  family.     duncan  is  no  longer  picking  fights  after  total  drama  island,  he  is  taking  care  of  himself,  trying  to  make  an  effort  to  be  a better  man,  to  get  off  parole  and  be  someone  that  courtney  callahan  would  be     PROUD     of,  especially  after  the  disastrous  thanksgiving  dinner  that  he  had  attended  at  the  callahans  and  the  obvious  disapproval  of  her  parents.    yes,  they  had  their  ups  and  downs,  they  were  still  teenagers  and  they  were  in  an  intense  situation  being  involved  in  a  reality  show  like  total  drama.     after  his  win  in  total  drama  action  and  the  growing  stronger  relationship  of  duncan  and  courtney,  no  one  thinks  anything  would  rip  this  apart.     WRONG.     one  bad  argument,  one  angry  drunk  message  and  the  decision  was  made  from  courtney  about  the  growing  secret  that  she  was  still  hiding     -     the  start  of  a  family  of  their  own     -     of  which  duncan  had  no  idea  about.     until  he  finds  the  paper  trail  of  her  abortion  and  things  quickly  blow  up  from  there,  causing  a  very  gradual  downward  spiral  for  duncan.     with  the  decision  taking  away  from  him  about  what  to  do  about  his  own  family,  duncan  feels  at  a  loss  of  control,  mourning  a  baby  that  he  hadn’t  known  about,  feeling  like  he  isn’t     GOOD  ENOUGH     to  be  a  part  of  a  family  with  courtney  and  things  only  get  worse  in  their  many  attempts  to  patch  things  up  and  going  back  for  world  tour.

    DUNCAN  SHOULD  NEVER  HAVE  PARTICIPATED  IN  TOTAL  DRAMA  WORLD  TOUR,     he  wasn’t  in  the  right  head  space  after  what  had  happened  with  courtney,  he  can’t  handle  the  constant  arguing  between  courtney  and  gwen,  or  all  the  bullshit  that  chris  puts  them  through  for  the  sake  of  entertainment.     quitting  may  have  been  selfish,  but  it  was  the  best  decision  for  him  and  if  he  hadn’t  been  forced  back  into  the  competition  after  the  london  challenge,  a  lot  of  things  could  have  been  avoided.     duncan’s  actions  in  world  tour  were  definitely  not  his  proudest  moments,  instead  he  was  the  puppet  for  chris’  the  puppet  master  who  wanted  more  drama  and  felt  like  duncan  owed  him  after  what  he  had  done  when  he  quit.     when  he  returned  home  and  the  show  aired,  the  trueheart  house  becomes  an  extremely     HOSTILE     place.     his  mom  completely  ashamed  and  disappointed  in  the  way  he  acted,  causing  a  lot  of  arguments  between  duncan  and  his  mom  which  never  happened  a  lot,  however  did  result  in  an  emotional  duncan  telling  his  mom  about  courtney’s  decision  to  abort  their  baby  without  ever  telling  him  that  she  had  been  pregnant.     duncan  was  lashing  out  again,  deliberately  provoking  both  alexander  and  stephen  whenever  he  could.     he  also  returns  to  old  criminal  habits  but  is  a  lot  better  at  not  getting  caught  than  he  used  to  be.     no  one  thought  it  was  a  good  idea  for  duncan  to  return  for     ALL  STARS     but  no  one  seemed  able  to  talk  him  out  of  it.

    ALL  STARS  PUTS  DUNCAN  RIGHT  WHERE  HIS  FAMILY  HAD  BEEN  HOPING  TO  AVOID  HIM  GOING,     prison.     no  longer  able  to  go  to  juvie,  he’s  an  adult,  thrown  into  the  big  house  with  people  who  would  definitely  make  duncan’s  life  a  bigger  hell  than  chris  ever  could.     duncan  hated  his  mom  coming  to  see  him,  knowing  that  he  had  truly     BROKEN  HER  HEART     and  with  that  came  a  lot  of  honesty  that  he  should  have  told  her  about  chris  blackmailing  with  courtney’s  secret,  that  he  had  been  forced  to  start  drama  in  world  tour  through  ruining  the  one  good  thing  in  his  life  and  it  had  caused  the  downward  spiral  that  had  landed  him  here.     his  brothers  never  came  to  see  him  in  prison,  but  edward  did  often  write  and  would  pick  up  duncan’s  calls  when  he  called.     courtney  had  come  to  see  duncan  at  first  to  get  closure,  to  finally  be  able  to  move  past  him  and  close  that  chapter  on  her  life.     however  seeing  how  out  of  his  depth  he  was,  seeing  through  the  facade  and  seeing  the  scared  boy  he  was,  they  started  keeping  in  regular  contact,  with  visits,  letters  and  phonecalls,  it  resulted  in  a  lot  of  hard  truths  being  told,  a  lot  of  promises  and  for  duncan,  hope  that  he  might  have  the  love  of  his  life  back.    stephen  only  came  to  see  duncan  a  few  times  at  first,  the  first  visitation  that  duncan  was  allowed  in  prison,  duncan’s  birthday,  and  a  few  days  after  eliza  was  killed  on  duty  responding  to  a  domestic  abuse  call.     his  intention  had  been  to  tell  duncan  what  had  happened  to  his  mom,  but  seeing  the  state  of  his  son,  he  had  lost  weight,  was  bruised  and  the  bright  green  was  gone  from  duncan’s  hair,  he  decided  against  it.     his  new  focus  was  to  get  duncan  out  of  prison  as  quickly  as  he  could.     stephen  started  to  come  to  visitation  in  replacement  of  eliza,  wanting  to  repair  his  relationship  with  his  youngest  son  because  he  knew  it  was  what  eliza  would  have  wanted.     but  it  was  clear  the  lack  of  contact  from  his  mom  was  having  a  bad  effect  on  duncan.     eliza  was  duncan’s  weak  spot,  his  mom  had  been  the  one  to  encourage  his  artistic  and  musical  side,  who  encouraged  him  not  to  have  to  harden  up  completely.     of  course,  the  secret  couldn’t  be  kept  forever  and  when  his  mom  hadn’t  been  there  on  his  release  date  alongside  courtney,  he  knew  something  terrible  had  happened.

    LOSING  HIS  MOM  HAD  LEFT  A  GAP  IN  HIS  LIFE,     a  hole  that  he  would  never  be  able  to  fill  because  no  one  could  replace  his  mom.     however,  it  did  welcome  a  new  beginning  with  the  trueheart  men,  they  had  to  be  better  than  they  were  before  and  duncan  needed  his  dad  more  than  he  had  ever  needed  him  before.     stephen  and  courtney  were  definitely  the  ones  most  responsible  for  making  sure  duncan  landed  on  his  feet  after  coming  out  of  prison  and  dealing  with  the  death  of  his  mom.     stephen  helped  duncan  get  a  job  and  they  kept  in  contact,  having  a  relationship  that  neither  of  them  had  expected  but  it  was  something  they  had  both  known  eliza  had  wanted.     with  courtney,  duncan  was  able  to  build  a  life  again,  they  had  taken  their  time,  knowing  they  had  to  adjust  to  the  way  things  were  now,  rebuild  trust  in  a  more  real  setting  than  just  over  the  phone  and  it  allowed  them  to  build  a  stronger     RELATIONSHIP     than  ever  before.     courtney  openly  encouraged  duncan  to  keep  improving  relationships  with  everyone  in  his  family  and  being  the  best  verison  of  himself  that  he  knew  she  was  proud  of.

    WHEN  THE  TIME  WAS  RIGHT,     they  were  able  to  start  that  family  of  their  own     -     their  eldest  son,  zachariah,  and  the  twins,  frederick  and  tristan.     family  was  no  longer  a  complicated  word  for  him,  family  was  a  strong  bond  that  he  may  have  felt  deprived  of  in  his  teen  years  but  he  takes  responsibility  for  his  actions  that  was  involved  in  that.     he  is  no  way  the  perfect  husband  to  courtney,  but  he  is  loyal  and  loving,  constantly  trying  to  surprise  her  in  a  way  that  he  knows  she  will  like,  he  is  proud  of  everything  she  has  accomplished  and  still  as  in  love  with  her  as  he  was  when  he  first  realised  it.     the  proud  father  of  his  three  children,  a  happy  stay  at  home  dad,  ready  to  go  to  soccer  games  and  dance  recitals,  helping  make  costumes  and  do  homework  whenever  he  can.     zachariah  may  have  a  stronger  bond  with  courtney,  but  duncan  has  always  be  there  for  zach,  making  sure  to  pass  on  lessons  that  his  own  parents  taught  him     -     especially  the  one  is  his  mom  always  encouraged  that  being  softer  and  loving  is     NOT     a  weakness.     frederick  is  their  little  musician,  having  inherited  both  their  musical  talents  and  definitely  has  a  flare  for  the  dramatics  like  both  his  parents,  duncan  always  insists  that  freddie  is  living  up  to  his  name  sake     freddie  mercury     .     tristan  was  their  little  surprise,  a  wrong  reading  of  the  scan  had  prepared  the  parents  for  two  boys  when  courtney  had  the  twins,  only  to  discover  that  they  had  a  little  girl  and  it  was  an  instant  connection  between  father  and  daughter,  she  was  daddy’s  little  princess  from  the  start  and  it  was  obvious  who  tristan  takes  after  most.

    THERE  WAS  DEFINITELY  A  LOT  OF  UP  AND  DOWNS  FOR  THE  TRUEHEARTS,     but  duncan  is  no  longer  scared  of  family,  feeling  he  finally  belonged  into  the  family  he  was  born  into  and  having  found  a  family  of  his  own  with  courtney.     family  is  always  difficult  and  there  are  still  times  when  it’s  hard,  but  if  they  can  make  it  through  all  this,  they  can  make  it  through  anything.

  one  word  for  a  drabble  or  headcanon  //  status : ALWAYS  ACCEPTING  //  @atyped  

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Lost no More: Chapter 3 - Missing

Summary:  After three years Hiccup’s sudden disappearance remains unsolved. A grieving father is forced to move on for the sake of his village, a blacksmith has yet to choose a new apprentice, children grow up missing the face they’ve known since birth. The Dragon Master and a fated reunion may finally give them the answers they seek.

Author’s Notes: And these are all the chapters I have finished so far. Chapter 4 is what I will started to work on right at this very moment. Can’t say for sure when it’ll be finished

@coneygoil, @renkocchi, @softhairstark, @daglout, @just-call-me-emrys, @let-the-wind-carry-us and @only-girl-on-a-dragon if you guys are still interested and haven’t seen me post these chapters on Ao3.

As the sun set and the evening continued to pass him by, Chief Stoick the Vast was beginning to grow nervous.

His son had left the celebration in the Great Hall somewhere in the early afternoon and it would seem like he hasn't been seen since. It had been thrown in his honour as he was to be this year's champion for dragon training, but no one had stopped him from leaving.

Stoick hadn't been too worried at first. Remembering that Gobber had once told him about how the boy liked to disappear into the forests of Berk during the day to take a break from all of the overwhelming attention, the man had decided to leave him be. He believed Hiccup should get the peace and quiet he wished to have.

Besides, the boy needed to prepare for the exam tomorrow. He knew the Hofferson girl liked to practice with her axe in the forest in solitude, something he had heard from her proud parents a little while back. Maybe his son had developed a similar kind of habit.

The Chief had tried to both attend the celebration and tend to his duties as best as he could even with his head in the clouds. The sheer pride in his lanky son, Hiccup, was just indescribable. But now he was home earlier than usual to await the teenager's eventual return to fill him with words of encouragement and wisdom. However, it didn't seem like Hiccup was coming back.

The minutes stretched on and before long turned into hours. The sun sunk lower into the sky until it became too difficult to see outside without lighting the torches spread somewhat evenly throughout the village. And still there was no sign of Hiccup.

Stoick sat in his great chair, the fingers of his large right hand tapping impatiently on the armrest purely out of worry.

Gobber had once told him to have more faith in Hiccup, to not be so... overbearing and give him the benefit of the doubt. It was one of the reasons he had allowed Hiccup to even participate in dragon training in the first place, it was a gamble that had paid off. But it was getting quite late now, wasn't it? Surely the boy should've been back already?

Glancing over at where untouched food now sat cold on the table, Stoick decided that it wouldn't be such a bad idea to at least spring by the forge for a moment and see if his son wasn't still working on something there and had simply lost track of time. It had happened before.

Pushing himself up from his seat and grabbing his furred cloak on the way, Stoick quickly disappeared out through the front door.

Hiccup wasn't at the forge.

Stoick had gone there to check first, but all he found was a very drunk blacksmith limping and swaying his way to bed while singing incoherently. He never even noticed the Chief's presence.

Stoick had searched, but even Hiccup's own personal little study remained dark and devoid of life. He didn't seem to notice that some of the boy's things were missing. There was usually always a mess of papers and tools in there.

His concern gradually growing, Stoick had tried to tell himself that there was no need to worry. Perhaps the boy had returned to the feast or had simply gone to find his friends. He'd heard how his son was no longer sitting alone during meals, how the other kids his age sought him out. He was finally fitting in, like a growing Viking boy should.

Stoick decided to go searching for Hiccup in the Great Hall first, but that yielded no results as the only Vikings still left were either drunk or just leaving. There was no trace of a young, small boy or even the friends he had recently begun associating himself with. And with how little people had remained, they couldn't have hidden amongst the crowd either.

Knowing that there were still other places to look, Stoick left the Great Hall after a quick scan with his gaze to make his way to the Jorgenson household in the hopes of catching his son there. Hiccup and Snotlout were on better terms as off late. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to think he might be there. And if not, he could still check with the Ingermans, the Thorstons, and finally the Hoffersons.

Stoick the Vast didn't get very far before a peculiar conversation between five youngster took his attention away from his urgent search, but only because he had heard his son's name being spoken.

"I don't get why you're all falling for it. Don't you see that everything Hiccup does in the ring makes no sense?!" The voice of the Hofferson girl reached Stoick's ears and he looked over to see the group of teenagers he had been about to visit hang out not too far away from the Great Hall instead of returning home like they all should've at this hour.

"He doesn't use any weapons, almost always drops his shield, and yet he still wins! He barely even touches the dragons! And none of you think that's weird?!" Usually he would've raised an eyebrow at the distrusting words he heard Astrid speak about his son, but he was more concerned with finding Hiccup first.

He could speak to her about it once he found the boy and brought him home.

"Are you saying Hiccup is faking it? How would he even do that, Astrid?! Dragons literally drop before his feet!" Snotlout seemed to be disagreeing with Astrid and passionately defending his cousin, something that the other three were surprised to witness.

Snotlout's unspoken relief that Hiccup was a dragon killer just like him was more obvious than he wanted it to be. Everyone had seen him help Fishlegs put Hiccup on his shoulder to parade him around the Kill Ring after the announcement of earlier today. At least for a little while, Snotlout seemed to hold him in high regard.

"But he never even touches them! So how does he take them down?!" Astrid continued to argue, but the other teens weren't as ready to listen as she had hoped them to be.

"Yeah, so? Hiccup's always been weird," It was an odd thing for Tuffnut, of all people, to say.

"He probably just as a weird way of dealing with dragons." His sister, Ruffnut, finished for him.

Astrid was getting nowhere as she voiced her suspicions and it only served to frustrate her further, her temper not too fond of being tested to begin with.

That Fishlegs was remaining completely quiet wasn't helping either. And he was the only one who seemed torn between siding with Hiccup or backing Astrid up. He, too, had noticed how the heir's way of taking down the training dragons was a little... unorthodox.

A frustrated sigh left the Hofferson girl. She didn't see the Chief coming their way, but Fishlegs did.

"All I'm saying is that something doesn't make sense. I don't know how Hiccup cheated, but I'm gonna prove-"

"Astrid!"

Fishlegs warned Astrid to quiet herself before the five looked over to see their Chief and Hiccup's father storming over, though it didn't look like it was anger that drove him, relieving Astrid as she had feared the man heard her slandering words.

In fact, he seemed more worried than anything.

"Have any of you seen, Hiccup?" Rather than asking why these kids were still outside this late, all Stoick wanted to know were the whereabouts of his son and nothing more.

Astrid tried not to let her displeasure show as she crossed her arms and cast her look down to the grassy ground and away from their leader. As for the remaining four, they all stared at eachother in question. It was pretty clear that they had only one answer to give him.

"The last time we saw him was when he left the Great Hall hours ago, Sir." Fishlegs answered timidly and three of them seemed to agree, nodding. That was the last any of them had seen of him.

Their Chief's worried expression grew when he realized not one Viking on Berk had caught sight of Hiccup for hours and it unnerved them instantly.

It was also what urged Astrid to speak up, feeling guilt nag at her heart as this father was genuinely concerned for his only son's safety.

"I saw Hiccup go into the forest after he left the feast." Astrid pointed into the exact direction she had seen him disappear into, but that answer did little to help ease the father's worried mind.

Already all sorts of worst case scenarios started to fill his head, plaguing the overprotective parent's mind with whatever fate his only child could be suffering at this very moment or had suffered hours ago without anyone even knowing.

There were so many dangers in the forests ouside of the village of Berk. The wild boars roaming in the woods, they could be aggressive and especially unforgiving to a boy as small as Hiccup. Bears lived there and they were the kind that would tower even over someone as enormous as Stoick the Vast. Even the occasional dragon was sometimes seen out there in the wild.

Hiccup might have proven himself a capable dragon killer, but could he truly handle all those dangers by himself? Stoick gave himself a resounding 'no' to that question, though he had never said it out loud.

Even besides the wildlife, there were other dangers on the island of Berk. There were the wild rivers that could've swept him away and drowned him. Steep cliffs weren't an uncommon thing either and one unfortunate misstep is all that it took to send even a seasoned Viking to meet with a brutal fall. There were also poisonous berries and other deceptively innocent plant life, though Stoick knew his boy was too smart to be tricked by that.

Hiccup had proven to be capable of taking care of himself and he had been frequenting the forests outside of the village for years, even long before he was allowed to. He might know it better than anyone else on this entire island. Still Stoick felt that overprotective paternal instinct of him win.

He had to find his son. He had to.

After leaving the five kids behind to wallow in worry over their missing friend, Stoick the Vast gathered every able man and woman he could find.

Unfortunately, after the celebratory feast held earlier that same day, that meant not many were still up to the task of finding a small lost boy so late in the evening. Vikings were known for their drinking. Well, the Hooligans were at least. Many were too drunk to be of much help, if any. There had been a feast, after all.

"My son was last seen entering the forest outside of the village this afternoon, so that is where we will start our search." The Chief's booming voice shouted to reach every Berkian man and woman present in the Great Hall for this emergency meeting.

They had all gathered around the large fire burning in a great circle in the middle of the hall and listened intently. Their Chief had all eyes on him as he stood at one side of the circular table build around the large pit. Every single one of them wore a grave expression. Not because Hiccup was the one missing, but simply because one of their own had not come back home.

A Hooligan was never abandoned, no matter who they were. That Hiccup was their heir mattered little. Even Mildew would be searched after if he was the one who had vanished, just like they had dug him out after a terrible snowstorm had buried him and his sheep, Fungus, in their house far outside of the village.

"We don't know where my son spends his time during the day and we don't know where exactly he has gone off to. So I ask of you now, look beneath every rock and tree, don't pass up a single cave, check every cliff. My boy disappeared hours ago. He may be out there somewhere in need of our help." Stoick tried desperately to keep it together, tried to keep being the strong Chief his people knew him to be.

But knowing that he had no idea where his son was weighed heavily on him and all the fears haunting him did little to sooth him. Yet panicking would not help Hiccup in the slightest.

"Go now. We may not have much time." Stoick ordered his people and they did not hesitate to leave the Great Hall, muttering amongst themselves words he could not hear as they steadily left.

Without wasting any time did the still fairly large rescue team separate into several different groups of three to four Vikings as agreed upon earlier in the meeting. They each got a section of the forest assigned to them. Grabbing torches and axes, the teams left to their respective areas in the hopes of finding the lost boy.

As they searched, the worried father returned home on advice of some of the women, who suggested someone needed to stay at the Haddock Household in case Hiccup came back by himself.

Besides, even if he were to tag along, with which group would he even go?

Stoick waited in his house for hours on end, pacing restlessly across the room for most of it.

With each passing second he hoped someone would return to him with news of his son. He hoped Hiccup would nonchalantly enter through the front door and have no idea what was wrong or why the village was in such turmoil.

It would've been so much better than to sit there and wonder why the boy wasn't with him right now or if he was even okay.

He was a father who worried often for his son. Hiccup had always been such a small boy. Even as a baby was he smaller than the rest. Danger was drawn to him like moths to a flame and very rarely did he go out of its way. It also did not help that Hiccup was very curious by nature. And as smart as he was, his impulsiveness and want to prove himself had often gotten him into trouble he should've avoided.

It was why Stoick had always been so protective of him, but because Hiccup had been doing so well in Dragon Training, he had let him go for a little bit. Now the boy was missing and Stoick couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that this was somehow his fault.

Hiccup was his son, his responsibility, his to keep safe.

The only report that the Chief had gotten so far that wasn't a blatant 'Hiccup wasn't in this area either, sorry' was about a large cove that had many signs of a considerably sized dragon living in it.

Several scorched spots decorated the grass, lost black scales were strewn all over the place, there were half-eaten fish and the bones of small rodents littering the ground, there were the occasional claw markings on trees and rocks. They were obvious signs that a dragon had been staying in that cove and for a prolonged time too.

It were the black scales that worried him the most.

A black dragon. It was one Stoick didn't know and that made the absence of his young son even worse.

The mysterious dragon, Hiccup's disappearance, it was much too coincidental. Stoick felt a sickening feeling twist his stomach into a painful knot when he connected dots he hoped had nothing to do with eachother.

The cove they found was almost a good half hour away on foot too, a good long walk for a Viking. If Hiccup had screamed, no one would have heard him.

The only comfort Stoick had was that there had been no sign of blood. No signs that a scrawny teenaged boy had been ripped apart in that very place, only fish.

The dragon could've flown off with him, but Stoick tried not to think about that.

"Stoick!" The door burst open to reveal Berk's very own blacksmith hurrying inside, panting and leaning with a hand on top of his knee as he caught his breath.

Stoick had not expected to see him, but one look out the open door revealed that the sun was already rising.

An entire night of searching for Hiccup and they had come up empty.

"Stoick, is it true what 'veryone is sayin'? Is 'Iccup missin'?!" Gobber had been trying to sleep away his drunken stupor, but upon being awakened by this terrible news, had promptly jumped out of bed to meet with the Chief himself and see just how much of the story hadn't been made-up.

His old friend tried to fight the disappointment he felt as this meant there was still no news.

"Yes, it is, Gobber. The Hofferson girl, Astrid, was the last one to see my son and she told me she had seen him run off into the woods. I send a search party to find him. He hasn't returned, Gobber, and no one has told me any news either." The mountain of a man felt impossibly exhausted and he failed at finding the strength to even stand up from his seat at the table.

So tired was he after all the worrying, so paralyzing was the very fact that Hiccup was not with him.

Gobber could see it, of course. How could he not? So he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the Viking Chief.

"Ye know... For as 'opeless as 'Iccup was, 'e's always been a smart boy, Stoick. I'm sure they'll find 'im safe and sound somewhere. No need to worry." The blacksmith attempted to comfort the man with a reassuring smile, but it didn't seem like Stoick was in a mood to listen.

"It's been an entire night and half a day, Gobber. Something is terribly wrong, I can feel it in my bones." The father's voice betrayed the utter concern he felt and Gobber just noticed he had been holding Hiccup's first Viking helmet in his hands.

What could he even say to help this poor man? His very own friend? Nothing would soothe his worries or ease his heart. Nothing, besides seeing Hiccup safe and unharmed with his own two eyes again.

It became quiet in the Haddock Household when neither knew what to say, but the silence didn't stay for long when someone burst in through the front door again and it was one of the Vikings who had left on the search.

He sounded panicked, his eyes were wide in shock, he struggled to catch his breath in order to relay his message to Chief Stoick until at last he shouted.

"Chief Stoick! The beach!"