#im still relishing in my boys wings

[yohohonabottle]

🌺 Back to the chapter directory 🪔 Start | << Previous | Next > | Latest chapter >>

🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️

I know when I'm unwanted.

Lifting a gloved hand from his flower bouquet, Pirin carefully sweeps it to tuck a loose strand of snowy hair behind his ear. The motion feels far too jittery and awkward for his own comfort. Stay strong. Don't falter. Tempestuous emotions crackle like high-intesity electricity, brewing just beneath the suraface, ready to tear their way through. 

Anger, throbbing old grief, pulsating fear of loosing anew the one thing he holds most dear–A kind friend and her accepting family–dull but hammering pain at being scorned at every turn, exhaustion– Don't you dare falter now. 

Stay brave, for Rosa. 

Keep smiling. 

(..when will it end... ?)  The pretty, lovely, meek smile stays on his lips as Alsa and the kids come closer and he offers them a happy wave in greetings. An affable 'Hello!' offered their way as the blond pangolin wraps her arms around his husband's hulking and muscular form in a tight hug that....could possibly crush bones. Potentially.

The pretty, lovely, meek smile stays on his lips as Alsa and the kids come closer and he offers them a happy wave in greetings. An affable 'Hello!' offered their way as the blond pangolin wraps her arms around his husband's hulking and muscular form in a tight hug that....could possibly crush bones. Potentially.

The lively kids, six in total, gather together with curious, bright eyes, looking up at him in fascination. However what they chatter one over the other in excited rapid-fire heap is difficult to parse, leaving the poor 'wife' overwheled and struggling to answer. At most, Pirin only manages to pick up on scattered few bits and pieces of some questions and compliments. Or comments. 

'What's you name?', 'You're so pretty!', 'How did ___ Soren?', 'Are you ____ clan?', 'What clan ___ from?', 'Big brother Soren ____ you very much ___!', 'How did ___ -im?', 'You look ____...' 

—"I–Well.. Not..sure?? No....???" Getting a word in very quickly proves to be neigh impossible along with keeping up. It doesn't help that he's generally the type to think over his answers and words carefully, needing a moment to fully mull over each question. The current barrage of endless words only serves to add to his agitation and inner conflict. Oh stars, they're so chatty–And fast, I can't–-- 

((*FwheeEep-click-RRrrin*! Can you come over?)) –A pearl-haired woman calls from a distance, wings folded one over the other in front of her, hidden by large, long, disjointed sleeves. 

Ears twitching, the young child hums with a disappointed pout, eyes still glued onto the forests at the mountain's foot, riding on the wind current and relishing his fur being swayed. 

But the call of the winds and their embrace... 

((Coming, mama!))–The boy thrills back, a hint of a growl or whine, evidently wanting to stay longer. Better to not thin her patience...

Clicking his teeth, he bats his leathery wings and rises up higher into the air, spinning swiftly as he does, then lets himself 'fall' back. Only to barrel roll and flare them out, cutting through the air like an arrow as he whooshes, flying low to the ground.

The mother's clear eyes widen with raised delicate brows in surprise, letting out a short and sharp worried '*Ep!*' ((Careful!)) as she watches her son perform the risky maneuver then another, quieter, when he passes right by. The gale makes her braided hair and dress lift and sway, ruffling them. 

Gleeful laughter meets her, the sound gentle and melodiously clear as windchimes singing. Landing onto his feet and looking back at his mother from over his shoulder with cheeky amusement in his pearlescent eyes, the young son clicks his jaws playfully at her light scowl. 'I saw your smile.' 

–'Is he okay?' 'Alsa..? I think Pirin froze...' 

'Don't worry, Karun, Ayşe. He's just reminiscing.' –

((*FwheeEep*, you should take your human skin, my song. There will be guests at home this evening.)) –The woman coos warmly in soft voice, the large ears atop her head receding away to be replaced by human ones on the sides. Unfolding her arms, she gingerly attaches a pair of copper teardrop earrings with beaded tassels dangling from them. Her child only makes a surly grimace but quietly changes form–

Where once was an albino long tailed-bat, stood a young boy dressed in embroidered black yukata-like sleeveless garment. He opens his mouth to question, but pauses as a chorus of familiar whistling calls echo near. A surprised and irritated growling chirp escapes him as he's tackled by a large brown-furred bat, that quickly turns to a deep snarl, and he kicks out roughly at the idiot holding him down with playful grip. 

—"Get off Vladmire, you dumb oaf!" --The smaller, younger child hisses. It makes the other laugh heartily before gently swatting at him back with a half-reverted wing, rich baritone pitched in feigned disapproval. In the background, their mother looks at them with a look of displeased unamusement, hands on her full hips as she tuts at their mock-scuffle and insults exchanged back and forth. 

—"Come now, brat, is this how you greet your older brother?"  Unfazed by the chiding, the younger sibling glares up at him with a deep frown and then punches at his shoulder angrily, going for the collarbone but gets easily blocked. Little Pirin's retort when he lashes is sharp and biting through gritted teeth, but doesn't bother the other. 

—"Yes, if my brother keeps tackling me–For no reason, out of the sky– for the millionth time this week!" 

Now fully transformed into human-like appearance, Vladimir merely rolls his light-brown eyes with a lopsided smirk. "It's not millionth. It's the fifth this week since I came back home, Vanyo."

('Um..I think we might have triggered a memory.' 'Woow, look at his eyes–They're so dull! Like grey rainclouds!' '..more like silver to me.')

And before Pirin could snap back after sitting up, a smaller ball of dark-brown curly fur lands right onto him with cheerful squeaky voice, yells 'Vanyaaa!', knocking the wind out of him.

A boy with dark-brown eyes and freckles, slightly younger than him, lays sprawled over him horizontally with body curled to give him a tight hug, happily laughing. Little arms wrapped around him, the younger boy seems to never run out of breath as he launches into excited rapid paced chattering right away. 

—"I saw some pretty white birds with Vlado, Maya and Kallina while flying up the summit! They were big with huuuge drooping beaks! (Good thing Kalli was asleep though, she would've wailed so loud.) Maya said they're little blue herons--Young ones! I wanted to-"  

Poor Vaya simply gazes up at the setting heavens with a deadpan of pure tired misery, not even trying to escape from the hug or sit up again. Meanwhile their elder sibling rises to his feet with a chuckle and shake of his head, shooing the chatterbox. 

–('Alsa, Soren? Do you think Pirin has siblings?' 'They're..not around anymore, Taruk...' 'Oh. ..What happened to them, Iraj?' '....')–

—"Iyan–Let your older brother breathe, yea?" There's a serious edge to his lighthearted tone, reaching to peel the boy from his 'dead-inside' older brother, who simply heaves a long-suffering sigh of faux melancholy. Iyan, however, refuses to let go. Those tanned gangly arms prove to be surprisingly strong, stubbornly squeezing like a python. 

((Why did I let mame see me...?)) –Vladimir's snowy-haired younger brother whines in a low, pitifully drawn out miserable whistle, ending in a huff. ((Just end my suffering..)) 

Scoffing at his dramatic, defeatist complaining– The older brother hums back, slightly less humorous this time. ((No need to be dramatic, y'know.)) Then his tone shifts to stern as he looks back at Iyan, grip a little bit more firm, brooking no argument. 

—"Iyan. That's enough."  —"Mmh! Nooo!"

('Will he be okay and wake up?' 'He's fine.')–

((*FwheeEep*! Are you okay?!)) —A gruff and light soprano voice thrills in worry, making the ghostly-skinned frail boy wince. An auburn furred bat lands and skids, a light-ginger smaller one clinging onto her back. The auburn, thickly callous and wavy fur turns to unruly hair– the bat now a young woman about in her early twenties, rushes over to the two with their most youngest sibling still on her back. 

—"Yeah, he's fine Mamaya. Iyan just overwhelmed 'im 's all."–The brown-haired man mutters back, still trying to peel the stubbornly clinging kid off, the carpal-bone choker around his jugular and red paint catching in the afternoon sun. "No need to flutter, Ioan isn't the frail, glass-fragile wee bebe anymore." The strawberry-blond toddler on Maya's back yawns but doesn't stir much.

—"Pirin..? Are you alright?" –A warm and fruity, ringing soprano inquires in concern, the endless rowdy chatter gone away. A small but callous, warm, tanned hand resting on his shoulder. The gril's blazing eyes looking at him with gentle friendliness akin to a mother's or a sister. 

It's enough to snap the newlywed 'wife' out of his trance and back to the present. Blinking, the slim young man notices how hard his gloved hands are clutching at the flowers, like a lifeline. The trail of wetness on his left cheek that has grown cold helps his frayed mind put two and two together. 

Great, as if our union being arranged and the wedding wasn't– 

—"Sorry for this." He wipes the lone tear away and hurries to put on a jovial, if subtly shaky, reassuring smile. –"It's..A lot to take in, being married and the wedding itself. I guess–I guess I got a little emotional for a moment there."  And then Pirin's tone turns lighthearted as he jokes with "I'm not a crier, I swear!" before smoothly segueing into redirecting their attention away from himself, right back onto the current festive occasion. Before the pangolin Mauler teen or any of the children could further dig in. 

"I think I need a quick breather, you all should probably be heading for the feast at Leaping cricket. Your table is 2– closer to the window in the top left corner, not quite smack-dab in the room's center, but close enough. You'll see little signs with each of your names on it.

Ask one of the staff and they'll show you." A little bit of chattiness to show mirth, weave off the glimpse of sorrow. "I'll catch up with you in a bit, ok?"

A word of affirmation as comfort, wait...

Alsa blinks at the change but doesn't question it or the meek explanation her brother's partner gives her and the kids. A bright and warmly welcoming, friendly grin of pure child-like happiness spreads on her sunny round face as she takes his words fully at face-value. 

—"Oh, okay." –She lets her gauntled hand fall away from the man's boney shoulder, smile turning sheepish at waving off his silly jest about crying easily. In truth, the Uru clan's primary chieftain didn't mind it one bit. It's okay to cry, be sad or scared, or angry in her eyes. Better than holding it all in and silently gritting your teeth as you suffer alone.

"No, no, it's fine! We get it, don't worry! We'll see you at the table! Take your time, alright? Catch you later, Pirin!" 

And with that, offering an apologetic and thankful nod, the fragile-looking groom disappears like a phantom. It's like he was a mirage... After a few moments, the blond's caramel face suddenly pales then twists into one of unsure and uneasy confusion, leaf-like ears flattening back slightly, her brown-scaled tail going stiff like an exclamation mark. 

—"He's-!" I can't believe I missed this!

Snapping her head to look up at Soren, she finds her older brother meeting her gaze with a quiet 'Finally figured it out?' unimpressed deadpan on his rectangular face, furry arms crossed over his chest. Not bothered in the least. The corners of his lips are ever so subtly upturned in amusement. 

—"Yep." The kids look up at the two of them with expressions of pure bafflement and curiosity, not understanding what's going on. Their eyes dart back and forth between Soren and Alsa, ears perked to full attention.

—"You knew?! Why didn't you tell me???" 

—"It's not hard to guess. Not like his smell is subtle." —"Okay but–Why didn't I catch it, then?"

—"Too busy watching us and being overexcited, for example?" 

Poor Alsa is left stumped for a nice minute, blinking dumbly and glancing back where Pirin once stood, then back at her sibling. The little smile playing on the half-bear teen's mouth turns to a smirk as he watches her, leaning back on his wooden club. For the very first time, his dear sister–The biggest yapper in their family, always buzzing about something and never running out of breath or energy– is utterly at a loss. 

—"..And you're...not worried? At all, Soren?" He snorts. Honestly, you're worrying too much. There's not much that the blood-sucker can do–-The second he tries, it'd be over. 

—"Why should I be, exactly?" It's nostalgic, really. It's like they're little again and pops is recalling the legend as a ghost story at the campfire before bedtime. It appears Alsa still hasn't shaken off her fear from back then.  And neither has he changed his own answer. If it comes down to it, he'd snap that thing's frail little twig of a neck or crack its pretty skull open like a wanderfruit or coconut. 

His dark brown eyes glance back at where the vampire stood moments ago, the scent trail and perfume-like cologne still fresh on the air. The warrior's smile falls away, his attention turning back to his clan as one of the kiddos speaks up; A little anthropomorphic black panther girl– Emre. The child Alsa had recently found wandering the Boneyard and welcomed into their little group of adopted orphans. 

Lost, abandoned, unwanted children. 

Young ones that have nowhere to go. 

Just like he and his sister before getting taken in by pops. 

—"Um..Alsa? Soren? What are you talking about? Is there something wrong with Pirin? Is he....Is he a bad man..?"

Alsa, ever the naive optimist that always assumes the best for every new face she meets, is quick to jump-in. To reassure. Even if she has no idea if the other's intentions that she's vouching for to be the best truly are as pure they as in her eyes. Soren firmly keeps his tongue behind his teeth, jaw clenched. 

—"Oh no! No, he's not!" How do you know? Before the fiery-eyed pangolin could go on and back herself into a corner or give false hopes, the dark-brown haired vigilant fighter cuts in to bring the talk to an end. What he gives Emre and the other youngsters of their humble clan, is a truth and sure promise. 

—"There's an old legend Pops used to tell us long ago about some nameless 'bats'. I'll tell you later when we get back home." 

—"Soren! That's too scary! They won't be able to sleep!" –The clan chieftain whines indignantly with a pout, short eyebrows creased together and cheeks puffed, hands on her hips. Her brother merely shrugs nonchalantly with a light smirk, waving off her complaint dismissively. 

—"It's just a silly ghost story, Alsa. It's not as bad as you're making it out to be." Despite the 'phantom' from it being real. "You're being a scaredy-cat."  —"No I'm not! Just because you don't find something scary, doesn't mean it isn't!" The younger Mauler swats at him with a hand and he calmly blocks the 'attack', muttering back in semi-teasing tone of his light baritone voice that could be almost mistaken as a sing-song chirp. 

—"I can say the same. Just 'cause you're spooked by something, doesn't mean it actually is." And so, the eldest tribe member carries on to steer the conversation elsewhere. This little refuting back and forth banter can go for eternity-–Every time he brings up a point, his adoptive sister would quip with an emotion-driven argument to counter it and he would retort back rationally in turn. The same song and dance the heart and mind have time and time again. 

No point in dragging it out. 

"..You should go to the inn, I'll go fetch 'my wife'." 

—"Wait, you're not coming?" –A puzzled look of surprise flashes over Alsa's petite visage as he steers her and the kids gently but firmly, herding them towards one of the lodges down the beaten dusty path. "Where are you going?" The hanging sign with a jumping green cricket playing a violin comes closer into view, the merry laughter from the inn ringing clearly. 

—"Home to have a chat with him. It won't be very sunny so we won't ruin your fun by talking here. Don't worry, we'll be fine." 

—"Soren--?" A light nudge, encouraging them to step through the door and join the celebration without looking back, accompanied by a playful jest directed to her. Lighthearted and sassy, affectionate reassurance. A quick squeeze to her shoulders.

"Besides, this is your first time in Alkali. I'm sure you'd be itching to check out town without my constant sulking and nagging." Alsa still doesn't seem convinced, eying him with slight apprehension but doesn't argue as the eight of them step into the main room where the banquet is. The loudness of the music, merry laughter and chatter, and clatter of utensils is enough to drown out their voices. 

—"You won't be alone anyway. Everything's fine." This is starting to feel like a deliberate move, but the pangolin-girl only makes a small unsure 'mmhm..' in response, ears slightly falling back against her hardy, messy sunny-blond short hair. The kids have already turned their attention to the jolly and cozy atmosphere, looking around inquisitively before spotting a familiar face and darting over, weaving through the crowd on the small dancefloor between the columns of long-tables. 

Antandra quietly stood guard over in her corner, watching her daughter animatedly converse with the Lightbearer man. Her white-spotted black ears twitch at the light cheerful ruckus and she lifts her golden gaze to see the Uru clan kids chattering and playing with Koko. For a brief second, the shield-wielding wavy-haired woman and the young warrior's eyes meet, thick brows knitting together in mildly concerned furrow at the youth's silent request. 

Keep my siblings safe. 

Mutedly, she gives him a nod.  Looking back over her shoulder for a second, Alsa's lips thin. 

Soren is gone. 

Heaving a sigh, the chieftain turns her blazing eyes to look on ahead and strides over to Antandra, Satrana and Koko's table. Dejected and exasperated, small hands ball into fists. 

So. 

Satrana and her mother were right.  Soren wasn't happy with his wedding, wasn't happy–-Isn't happy-–with his bride, now wife. The only reason he agreed to attend this ceremony to begin with and said 'yes' to the pastor's question, is because of them, his clan and adoptive family. 

Not for himself, because he's found love. 

But for her and the kids–-To not dash their hopes and joy, to not let them down and disappoint. Yet again their stoic protector has put them above his own wants and needs as first and foremost, gritting his teeth and simply getting it done. 

Like he has always done.

I really can't understand you sometimes. 

     I know you do it for my and the kids' sake. 

                                      But I still just don't get it. 

When will you think about yourself, for once?

[evieebun125]

i’ve been thinking really hard about hamids wing reveal,and im asdsasdfgh i have so much love in my heart for him

[many-gay-magpies]

@honeyseungz @loabivey so that uh. that mini au that you had like a very small rb thread about yesterday (well over a few days ago now that im posting this). well uh. um . actually you know what im just gonna let you read it yourselves

so. heeseung, jay, and sunoo are all brothers. wether its actual brothers or just "brothers" by blood bond or whatever idk. but, regardless, they're brothers. im thinking that like, at first they aren't vampires, theyre just regular dudes yknow? (and just a forewarning, a lot of this isnt gonna be as compliant with the enhaverse theorizing we've done so far, it's just a little brain worm i wanted to play around with, throwing a little bit of enhaverse crumbs in here and there)

but anyway. they're not vampires, im thinking theyre just like... adopted/found family brothers, probably orphans or something. regardless they love each other a lot and its great. personality-wise everything is super different, but just for plot conveniences, heeseung, jay, and sunoo are the yunmeng trio (heeseung as wwx, jay as jc, and sunoo as jyl respectively), and jungwon is lwj.

the three brothers meet jungwon, probably brought together by this Big Fantasy Evil, maybe something involving the vampire queen as a character? idk. there's some big evil shit going down, and the three brothers somehow end up with jungwon and HIS big bro, who im imagining is jake (basically the lan xichen in this situation—very soft, kind, gentle; the vibes are right). both of them are vampires, not that our three orphan bois know that. they get caught up in the danger, and vampire bros jake and jungwon coms to the rescue.

now, a little bit of personality-mapping here: jay is outwardly very loud, fun, temperamental, and sarcastic, generally very much like he is irl; but inside, he's intensely loyal, protective, and loving, with a HUGE soft spot for the people closest to him. sunoo is very sweet, sensitive, and kind—the walking hug of the three brothers, who is certainly not without his bite and wont hesitate to talk back to anyone who hurts them. aggressively and without mercy. also he makes them soup for comfort and is generally best boy. heeseung is very goofy, playful, free-spirited, and bright, but insecure and sensitive underneath it all; generally a loud annoying mess of a boy. pure chaotic neutral and a gremlin if there ever was one. jungwon, on the other hand, is... not. he's nervous, quiet, cautious to a fault and intensely righteous, always standing up for what's right and refusing to waver from his chosen path. very lawful good vibes. he, naturally, is more than a little put off when jay, sunoo, and heeseung's chaotic ass come crashing into he and his brother jake's once-peaceful (ish) lives. and it doesn't help that heeseung is a... huge flirt, and apparently deadset on making jungwon his friend. fuck.

jungwon... doesn't know what to do. and it would all be so much easier if heeseung were dumb or stupid or unattractive or just a total asshole—but he isnt any of those things. he's beautiful, smart, insanely witty with a brain faster than any jungwon's ever seen—he can't help but admire him. but on top of that, he's wreckless as hell, unpredictable, and pushy, and gives jungwon heart attacks way too much for his liking. he doesn't even have a heartbeat. he's fucking dead.

it eventually comes out that jake and jungwon are vampires; the brothers are surprisingly cool with it. not the craziest thing that's happened to them.

the five boys get closer, staying together as they fight their foe (which im becoming increasingly inclined to make the werewolves), and through a series of convoluted events, jungwon learns that heeseung is not only gorgeous, smart, talented, and funny as all get-out, but also sensitive, caring, insecure, and thoughtful... and heeseung, who's only goal had been to break through the nervous and straightforward outer shell of his young dongsaeng, does just that. and jungwon, naturally, starts to fall in love.

somewhere along the line, though, things go wrong—as they were bound to do in an au loosely based off of the untamed. something happens to heeseung; he's fatally wounded after saving jay's life, and disappears, nowhere to be found. his brothers eventually assume the worse; that he's gone forever. but the queen finds him, takes care of him, nurses him back to health. turns him.

when he comes back, nothing's the same. the war is still going, and his brothers thought he was dead—but he isn't. but he's... different. jungwon and jake are quick to realize that he's been turned, how, they dont know—but they talk to him, teach him, try to help him, jungwon especially. of course he does; he's in love. heeseung, of course, is dismissive; doesn't take it seriously. ill be fine, whats so bad about this? or, perhaps, he doesn't let on just how hard he's taking it; fearing vulnerability more than he fears being a vampire.

inevitably, though, heeseung's wrecklessness leads to doom—he lets his bloodlust overtake him, relishes in it, no matter how much jungwon had warned him against it, pleaded with him to take caution. he says it's usefull—says he can help them take out enemies, help them win this war. jungwon warns him that he could end up getting more than he bargained for. heeseung doesn't listen.

heeseung helps them win the war; practically wins it for them. hes happy, bitterly, until he isnt. he's happy, until he sees his brother—sees sunoo. blood-covered, pale-skinned, drained.

no.

heeseung is broken. jay even moreso. jay yells at him; yells and yells and yells and yells. curses him out, tells him he hates him, tells him he's nothing but cruel evil—he doesn't mean it, of course, but no one knows it then, not even him. now he is only angry; so, so angry. heeseung, wrought with guilt and shame and grief, flees—hides himself somewhere secluded, does the closest thing a vampire can possibly do to death, the equivalent of a thousand-year hibernation. none can find him, he's made sure of that. in his guilt and shame and anger he stews, asleep, for hundreds, thousands of years.

after the anger passes, jay is more than anything in mourning—for heeseung as well as for sunoo. he has a realization, that being that, when, inevitably, heeseung comes back, he doesn't want him to be alone: even if he'll have jungwon and jake, it won't be the same as having his brother. so jay pleads, cries, begs for jungwon to turn him—so that they can search for heeseung together, so that when heeseung comes back, he'll have jay waiting for him, too. so, reluctantly, jungwon gives in and turns jay—after which he helps him deal with his newfound immortality and vampiric status—helping him handle his bloodlust and helping him learn how to feed. over the centuries that heeseung is gone, jay, jungwon, and jake grow even closer (j line eyyy), inseparable as they search for heeseung and even outside of that. jungwon and jay are the closest, jay growing a colossal soft spot for the boy and not hesitating to take him under his wing and protect him with all he has (initially, sort of as a replacement for protecting heeseung, but eventually jay's affection for jungwon grows into something all it's own). to be clear, no love triangle bullshit here, only sickening-sweet platonic soulmates jaywon and a jungwon that is still achingly in love with heeseung.

(okay for anyone thats actually watched cql/read mdzs, yes i KNOW lwj and jc did not get along at all and kind of hated each other but. this is my au i do what i want, and if i want to add soft jaywon into the mix then im fucking going to, goddamnit)

OKAY TIME FOR SOME WACKY SIDE-PLOT MADNESS

so. sunghoon. how does he fit into all this? how does he end up being the one to trigger heeseung's "resurrection"? how does heeseung GET resurrected in the first place? well, not to worry, you're about to find out! and i am too because i'm just figuring this out as i go along baybyyyy

sunghoon, im thinking, is a friend of jake's (lets throw some jakehoon in here too bcs why not), either from before everything went to shit and heeseung went and isolated himself, or sometime during the numerous centuries jakewon spent looking for heeseung with jay. either way, sunghoon is this boy who jake is friends with and cares about a lot, and is also maybe kind of in love with. while jaywon spend most of their time looking for heeseung, jake spends his with sunghoon—finding himself often alone, now that his little bother is going off on his own adventures.

in a situation quite similar to heeseung's, sunghoon probably gets fatally injured somehow and is near death, but jake, not wanting him to die, decides to turn him instead. niki is also involved, and it's a sort of package deal, because before meeting jakewon, heeseung, and everyone, they were their own little thing; not unlike jay, heeseung, and sunoo's brother's triad. they were both probably orphans, niki being the much younger one, and as such sunghoon took him under his wing and never looked back. when jake turned sunghoon, niki was basically like "m8 what the fuck" and demanded he be turned too, not wanting his sunghoon-hyung to live on forever while he grew old and died. jake, also having a soft spot for niki, was like "fine alright" and turned him too. so, now their little vampire coven numbered five, and all was (moderately) well.

or not.

the thing was, jake hadn't anticipated how powerful sunghoon would be—there's nothing in life that anyone's found yet that would indicate a person's level of power once turned, so jake had... pretty much no way to see this coming. but, anyway, sunghoon was... really, really powerful. like, insanely powerful. all the abilities vampires were said to have in legends, the likes of which were previously reserved for just legends, he had them; flawless teleportation, mind control, shape-shifting, the whole bit. and on top of that, he was controlled—insanely good at monitoring himself and keeping tabs on his own instincts. one of the most self-sufficient, well-mannered vampires jake had ever seen. it was... frankly insane.

the problem? the queen. this is where she comes in, because she's played a part in all the boys' transformations, albeit indirectly—when jake and jungwon first turned, it was she who turned them. she could sense sunghoon's power, and she wanted it for herself. jake and jungwon had done well at avoiding her, even forgetting about her for a while; but what she wanted, she took, and take she did. it was sunghoon she took: luring him to her in small increments and then all at once, taking control of him, turning him into a mindless puppet. sunghoon had always prided himself in control, and without it, havoc wreaked: bodies dropping left and right, people being killed seemingly at random, their only purpose being to instill fear and paranoia.

now, niki had heard tales, before, from his hyungs but also from regular townspeople to whom the legend had gotten passed down, of heeseung, and how great and terrible he was. heeseung, the townspeoples' folktales said, had been insane, unstoppable: a mad genius far too gone for redemption. niki also knew from his hyungs' fond stories that heeseung, more than evil, was kind and caring; he was loyal, and powerful in his loyalty, and niki thought that if anyone could save his sunghoon-hyung, it was heeseung.

so niki went on a journey. without telling jaywon or anyone else (and thus causing quite the panic), he spent years searching for heeseung, everywhere jaywon had thought to look and everywhere they hadn't, and twice more for good measure. and, by some stroke of luck, either due to his own sheer force of will of something else entirely, niki found him: locked away in an old castle that never quite seemed to stay put, constantly phasing in between realities. it made sense why no one had found him before then—he didn't want to be found. desperately, in fact.

but niki, too, was desperate. he enacted a ritual that was said (by jake, so of course it was to be trusted) to wake any vampire that had gone into hibernation, and, miracles continuing to work for the bitter young boy, it worked. heeseung awoke—startled to find himself staring into the face of a very teary, very angry (visibly) sixteen-year-old.

confusion passed, things and motives were explained, and heeseung (although bitter at having been woken up, and still riddled with enough guilt to last 1500 lifetimes) attempted to patiently tell niki that he had no fucking idea how to help sunghoon whatsoever. niki pretty much said "well you better fucking find a way because you're not going back to sleep now, the world's about to fucking end. also jay and jungwon-hyung have been looking for you for literal centuries, do you know how pissed theyd be if i went out looking for you, found you, then came back empty-handed? really fucking pissed is how much. also sad. did i mention sad?" and heeseung, notoriously weak and also kind of (read: very) in love, is just like "...jungwon? jay?"

so niki brings heeseung back to the others, the return journey taking a long enough time that the two become significantly close to each other, heeseung's long-forgotten big brother instincts (tm) kicking in around the younger vampire. niki has to basically drag heeseung out of the castle by his teeth, because as much as he misses his brother and jungwon, he's still so incredibly guilty, and completely convinced that he isnt worth love or life whatsoever and that jay still hates his guts. and, jungwon... he doesn't even want to think about jungwon. how he failed him. how he let him down. but, niki slowly works through the insecurities, bit by bit: assuring heeseung that, no, even though jay will definitely rip him a new one once he sees him again, he'll also cry and hug him for at least 24 hours because he misses him like hell and heeseungie hyung you have no idea.

they weather a lot together. storms, mental breakdowns, bouts of blood-starvation so severe heeseung thinks he'll lose it again: but they're there for each other. they hunt, talk, keep each other warm, and in it, form an unbreakable bond. niki had heard tales of the legendary lee heeseung, who wiped out entire armies in two seconds flat and comforted his friends when they were sad and annoyed jay to the very ends of the earth: but what he's faced with is a man with more insecurities than niki has hairs on his head—and he has a lot of hairs on his head.

by the time they make it back to the coven's home, heeseung has grown sufficiently attached to the enigma that is niki, and has almost completely but it out of his mind that he's here for his old friends, too. he's only doing this for niki: it's a fact he's comfortable with. so when they reach the front steps he just... freezes.

i have a very clear image of it in my head—jungwon, jay, and jake sense niki's presence, in some weird vampire-y way. it's been around 10, 15 years since he left at this point, so of course they rush out to greet him, ready with scoldings and lashings about how stupid he had been (after, of course, making sure he's unharmed and alright)—but it all dies on their tongues as soon as they see who's with him.

frozen. everything is frozen.

i imagine it's a lot like lulu and artzyy's post. jungwon is the first to move, stepping forward and whimpering out a broken "hyung", and all heeseung's guilt and avoidance is forgotten in favor of cradling jungwon to his chest, holding him close and whispering reassurances into the crown of his head, wonnie, im so sorry, hyung's so sorry; i didn't mean to leave you for so long, i'm here now, its okay. and of course then jay comes in, crying and screaming about how the fuck is it okay, how can it ever be okay, how could you just not mean to leave us alone for 1500 years?! how the fuck do you just expect to waltz back into our lives like nothing ever happened and pretend its all okay?!? and then he hits him, and hurts him, tries to make him feel even an inkling of the hurt he was made to feel for the past fifteen hundred years—but then punching him turns into fisting hands into the back of his shirt and sobbing into his neck and holding him so tight he wouldn't be able to breath if he had the need to and please, please don't leave, why would you leave, you asshole, why did you leave?

so yeah. things happen. reunions are had, tears are shed. some indirect heewon love confessions probably happen later on in the form of very intense devotions of life and self and all that. "walking on the single-log bridge in the dark really isnt so bad" you know the whole shbang. meanwhile jay salty in the background just like "cant you just say you love each other like normal human beings jesus fucking christ"

jayseung's relationship (or the reigniting of it) is, well, rocky. they're both conflicted—jay even more than heeseung. because, the thing is, heeseung killed sunoo. as regretful as he is, that doesn't make it any easier to forget. but he's back, and alive, and in one piece, and he isn't leaving, and jay knows it wasn't really his fault, he wasn't in control—but he killed him. he killed their brother. and it WAS his own stupid fault for losing control in the first place, for not listening to jungwon, so what the hell is jay supposed to think? he flip-flops between being intensely grateful that heeseung is back and okay and finally with them again, and then remembering what he's done, giving him the cold shoulder and not speaking to him for hours on end. and all the while, heeseung is riddled with guilt, and shame, and grief he'd suppressed for far too long; niki's stubbornness combined with jungwon's unwavering support being the only things keeping him from bolting into oblivion all over again. all in all, it's a difficult time—but they get there. eventually.

naturally, they save sunghoon. what else is there to do? they defeat the queen, break her control over their friend—and then jakehoon have their own teary reunion, not unlike heewon's, and sungki have theirs, not unlike jayseung's (although with a... considerable decrease in cursing and conflicted emotions, and a lot more immediate sobbing). they're a mess—sunghoon is traumatized, heeseung is traumatized, jay and niki are traumatized, they're all just fucking traumatized. jayseung will probably take a long time to get back to the way they once were, if it's even possible—there'll always be an empty space there, something gone, something missing, and it's one that can't be filled. jungwon barely lets heeseung out of sight or touch alike, and heeseung isn't much better off. jay's always been the more touchy one out of the three of them; but after years of missing, of longing, there's plenty of time to be made up, and heeseung is just... so, so soft, and warm, and being held by him is the loveliest thing jungwon's ever known.

AND NOW A SUNOO THING, BECAUSE THE IDEA OF ENHA LIVING HAPPILY EVER AFTER AS OT6 WITH SUNOO JUST FUCKING DEAD DOES. NOT WORK FOR ME

so like. sunoo isn't dead, or he doesn't stay dead, or not the soulless-unmoving kind of dead anyway. you know how necromancy and fierce corpses exist in donghua and shit? well they exist here too because fuck you and also i said so. i made myself sad and now im making it happy again goddamnit.

anyway. after he dies, sunoo gets found by the queen, too, and because she's all-powerful and whatnot she fucking necromances him—figures he'll be useful later. as he is, though, he's basically nothing more than a puppet; like wen ning and song lan were when they were being controlled. his soul isn't... gone exactly, just imprisoned, prevented from being able to come forward and command his body.

so. sunoo is still partially alive, and the boys (jay, jake, jungwon, sunghoon, niki, and whatnot)... don't know that. i imagine that for pretty much the entirety of the centuries that heeseung is gone, sunoo's status as a necromanced fierce corpse goes entirely unknown to them, and it's only after heeseung is brought back by niki that he starts to resurface. i imagine they realize it in a sort of tense, action-filled scenario: the boys have gone to investigate another attack, thinking it's sunghoon, but as it turns out the queen has had TWO undead corpses running around doing her dirty work instead of one. and one of them is sunoo.

heeseung and jay, of course, are stunned. they cant believe it's real; it isn't real, it can't be—and yet.

a lot of angsty plot stuff happens—i dont have the energy or enough shits to give to figure out what. the thing is, the queen only kept sunoo this long and brought him out as a tactic to lure heeseung, make him weaker; and it probably worked. in the midst of both fighting against sunghoon and fighting to SAVE sunghoon, heeseung is bent on saving sunoo as well, and there's probably a lot of very angsty talk wherein there are disagreements about who's life, really, is more important in this situation, and if heeseung is just trying to make up for what he did to sunoo. regardless, heeseung ends up saving sunoo and bringing his soul back to the surface. what he doesn't expect is for sunoo to forgive him—fully and wholeheartedly. and it feels wrong, because no, you should be angry with me, you should hate me and want to hurt me like i hurt you; but sunoo is just... happy. happy that he's back, happy that heeseung is back, happy that they're all together again. and its conflicting, to say the least. even moreso because sunoo isnt stupid—he didnt just act like heeseung was an innocent who did no wrong; he knew he had been wreckless, knew he was at fault, and he forgave him still. loved him still. that was something heeseung... hadn't been prepared for.

like i said in the last part, they save sunghoon; how, im not sure, but they save him, probably with a fair bit of sunoo's help, and they're together again. only the tiny difference here is that sunoo is with them too. sunoo is back, and the gang has yet another undead bestie to teach the ropes of being a vampire to. things are awkward, obviously, especially between the original brother's trio of heeseung, sunoo, and jay; because sunoo is his usual sweet and kind self while jay believes that he should be more angry at heeseung for killing him, heeseung agrees, and jay has some very conflicted feelings about how self-depricating his hyung is being (because like... yeah you killed sunoo and im supposed to hate you but you're not supposed to hate yourself, you idiot, what the fuck?)

(also like. if we're gonna take some more crumbs from cql canon here im gonna go ahead and say sunoo's death was at least somewhat self-sacrificial, even if it was heeseung that ended up causing it in the end)

(i kind of love how jiang cheng-y i made enhaverse jay here to be honest)

(okay this has been in my drafts WAY too long because ive been waiting for some miraculous Other Detail i need to add to pop up in my mind, but honestly i can just add anything else i think of in a reblog afterwards, this bitch just needs to see the light of day)

[kinkyacademia]

Can you write a fic were Hawks x Male reader were the reader loses their dog(Preferably a large breed) is a villain attack. Hawks ends up finding the dog, returns it, but is surprised to see that the reader is actually the nerdy kid from his old high school and now the reader looks hot and just go on from there. Don´t judge me.

bI don’t really know who this was for, but I snatched it up because BAM it was cute :)Okay after writing this, I have to say: I didn’t expect to make Hawks such a bottom, but he is SUCH A BOTTOM IN THIS IM SO SORRY-Orange warning. This has fairly lewd content in it, but since there isn’t any sex, it’s less of a lemon and more of an orange.

-Mod Pasta 🍜🍝

🌪”Charles!” You shouted when you got home. There had been a villain attack near your house and you rushed home to check up on your purebred Newfoundland named Charles. Upon not finding him, you got worried, calling the police. They told you that they would look for the dog among the havoc the villain had caused. Anxiety plagued you, but alas there was nothing you could do. It was in the hands of heroes now, probably that up and coming new hero you heard about: The one with wings.

🌪Takami had been flying around for a while, lazily collecting distressed civilians and checking up on people around the firefight. It had been an odd villain: some rando had gone rough and used his attraction quirk to pull builds together. Hawks had neutralized him, then joined the rescue squad. It was a high-injury event because of the violent power, but all injured civilians were now in care. It was near the end of the day, right when Hawks was going to leave and go home for dinner, when he got a heads up from the police that a dog was missing. Some huge, fluffy dog a boy had called in about. He immediately swooped down to look for it.

🌪Finding the dog was a breeze: it had just been accidentally pulled out of the yard of its owner and run directly into the danger. It was trotting along in the rubble, sniffing around for a tasty snack. He landed, giving the dog his hand while he reported to the police that he had found it. The dog barked happily, trotting right up to him and promptly leaning the side of its body all the way into him. He hadn’t expected it to be so loving, and he stumbled back with a shout of surprise, then delight. It was such a sweetie! He cooed at the big puppy, ruffling its ears until the police notified him that they could still hear him and gave him the address of the owner.

🌪The dog seemed comfortable with Takami flying, so he set off towards the owner’s house with it in tow, a little uncomfortable because of the weight, but able to manage. Once he set it down, he had to stretch his arms, his joints popping. The dog barked as it happily looked up at him. Almost immediately the door of the little house opened, the light blaring through the dark dusk as the owner rushed forward, hugging their pet. He proudly crossed his arms, “I found him in the rubble, he’s pretty cute.”

🌪When the owner looked up, he definitely didn’t expect to see (L/N) (F/N) from his old Hero course. You looked up with surprise, “Takami…?”

🌪You two caught up quickly, and you offered him tea as he followed you inside. You had settled as a sidekick to a hero agency, and he raved about how nerdy you had been back in high school. You had worn thick-rimmed glasses, always corrected him on minor arithmetic details, and had a problem with self-care and acne. Now none of those things were present, especially the problem with self care… Yeah, as you poured the willow tea, he admired your ass from your couch as he removed his suddenly stuffy jacket. You took care of yourself alright, very well.

🌪You seemed indifferent to his interest, happily talking about old times and relating them to your new job. Charles ended up laying his body across the both of you, and you laughed, giving his back end a slap. The puppy barked, wagging his tail. Both of you laughed at that, and Hawks rubbed the dog’s head, still infatuated with the baby. His eyes didn’t stray from your own for long, however: yours just seemed so much brighter without the glasses. How could puberty hit someone so late and so hard?

🌪You calmly smiled, drinking your tea serenely, “Thanks for returning Charlie. I bet he’s pooped from running around the city.”

“Probably,” Takami nodded, blinking a couple times before realizing that he still had his goggles on. He removed them, placing them in his jacket on the table in front of your couch, “I’m probably imposing-”

“Never! It’s so cool to see how far you’ve come, Takami, even if we weren’t super close back in Uni,” You exclaimed, and his breath hitched. Boy did he wish he knew you better in Uni…

🌪Hawks was suddenly conscious of his hair. It was all over the place - and your own was quite obviously styled. Wait - did you just push it back to tease him? He felt his body grow hotter… That damn nerd from his old school was sitting in front of him, laughing his cute little ass off at Hawks’ horrible jokes.

“I had started a pot of rice before you arrived, you can stay for dinner if you like,” He didn’t like how narrow your sly eyes were when you suggested that. You were so tantalizing that he had to stop himself from literally ruffling his feathers.

“I’d love that, heroing is hard work.”

🌪He never thought the day would come that the annoying geek from Uni’s mouth would look so inviting. Did you keep the chopsticks between your teeth when you laughed because you knew he was staring? He hoped that was the case, because he wasn’t about to stop. Hadn’t you had braces? They were definitely gone now, and your entire face was just enticing him…

🌪You could definitely tell Takami was attracted to you. You had run into another old peer from High School and they blatantly commented on your improved physique and looks. You had put a lot of effort into them over the last few years, and you were glad that they paid off. Finding out that an old classmate was now the No. 3 Pro Hero and was practically drooling for you was another achievement you were quite proud of.

🌪He had taken his jacket and goggles off, his gloves soon following. His wind-blown hair seemed all too perfect to run your hands through, but you didn’t quite remember if your peer was attracted to men or not. He was popular with the girls ever since he was in Uni, but had he ever went after one? Not that you remember. You listened to him talk about his latest mission with wide eyes and fascination, and he continued to beef up the story until it sounded fantastical, obviously trying to impress you. You’d never seen him so flustered, his voice shaking a bit and his eyes fleeting.

🌪So you took a leap of faith and called him out on it, “Takami,” He paused, his eyes immediately looking to your own across the dining table, “Are you nervous?”

“Ah shucks, you caught me. Well come on, you know you’re hot, right?” Your heart fluttered. That was so upfront, and your cheeks flushed as you smiled to yourself.

“Thanks, I was beginning to think you just wanted to leave,” Your smile formed into a smirk, and you rested your chopsticks against your teeth as your tongue stuck out. You cocked as eyebrow as his obvious strain to not look at your lips.

“I kinda like it here. You know,” You hummed to let him know you were paying attention as he took another mouth full of rice, “My person motto is that I think heroes should be able to relax and have leisure time.”

“Hmm?” He nodded at your inquiry, and you chuckled deeply, “You don’t seem very relaxed. I could help you with that,” He quite obviously was gawking now, his cheeks flushed and sweat beginning to gather on his brow.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse, and you ended up laughing as he looked away from you, realizing how needy he sounded. You twirled a chopsticks between your fingers, then glanced at the man’s lap, eyes wandering back up to his wanton eyes, “Yeah…” He trailed off, his small pupils now fully blown.

🌪To say the least, Takami’s dinner snack was long forgotten. Once you had gotten up, slowly stalking around the table toward him, he was like putty for you. You took his hand, and he followed you anxiously to your bedroom. You had exceptional taste in style, your bed being plush as he fell back into it. He leaned up, and you cocked an eyebrow, “Finally found a shred of dignity?”

“Never, but I can’t be on my back,” He ruffled his wings, and you rolled your eyes, leaned down to place a caste kiss on his lips that left him breathless, “Fuck,” he whispered.

🌪He remembered being compared to an angle one time in bed. Sweet, flustered, but never submissive enough to back down from a fight. You ended up straddling him, and the blood that was left in his body travelled to his groin. His back was against the headboard, and you were ravaging the hero’s pride by leaving love bites down his neck, his lips swollen from a long, deep make out session, “Where did this… Even come from?” He had to gather his scrambled thoughts together.

“I had expected you to take the lead, but this was just too easy,” He relished in the purr that escaped your lips, and he took a deep breath. You pulled back, looking at your work with smug pride, “Beautiful.”

“Don’t underestimate me, (F/N), I’ve been known to bite back.”

🌪His own love marks were less intense than your own, his touch less rough and more calculated. He had flipped you positions, but you obviously still held the reigns. You were just too much for him to wrangle. You pulled his hips against your own, grinding into him. The gasp that escaped his lips sent shivers down your arms: This was happening. You were going to fuck the pretty boy from Uni.

🌪“We still have a lot of clothes on,” You ran a hand down his chest, and some form of a coo came from him. You gave him an incredulous look, and his cheeks darkened.

“I can’t control the sounds I make, (F/N),” You cackled, ordering him to take his shirt off. He obliged, and you made sure to leave a few marks along the way as you removed your own top. Both of your bulges were now straining against your pants, threatening to pop a button.

“It’s cute. I wonder if I can pull another one out,” You teased, and the awkward, flustered smile you got back confirmed that you were going to pull many noises out of this hero. Your hands travelled down to his belt as you planted another kiss on his lips.

“You’re so different than I remember,” He whispered, and you nodded slowly as you undid his buckle, pulling the belt out and inspecting it. His eyes followed your own down to it.

“I am,” You ran a hand along the buckle, “Every been hit with this?” Your eyes snapped back to his own. The bewildered look he had confirmed that he hadn’t, and you threw the leather behind his neck, pulling him close to your lips, “Maybe next time,” You bit his bottom lip, then tossed the belt off of the bed. At this point you were just torturing the man.

🌪You both had to get out of your pants before one of you went insane. You opened your nightstand, pulling out the bottle you hadn’t expected to use and a condom. You held them up to his face as he was yanking a shoe off. He looked to them, then you, “Nice size.”

“Oh,” You chuckled, forgetting that the size of the condom was labelled.

“Definitely for you, though,” He glanced at his own boxers that were still on, “I can take it.”

“Cute,” You were waiting on him, and he could tell. You pulled your own underwear off, and his eyes travelled to your length. You could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, and you hooked a finger into the elastic of his boxers, laughing, “C’mon, embarrassed? I’m sure you’ve done this a million times.”

“I’m not a player, contrary to popular belief,” He crossed his arms, and you gave him a cocked eyebrow.

“I’ve heard otherwise,” You pulled his boxers down an inch, and he seemed nervous, “Are you… sure?” You held the condom up once again, “You can back out if you want, I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m just remembering how you used to be. I thought you were going to be some weird scientist with warts when you grew up,” He laughed dryly, and you gasped, grinning.

“Oh really? I’ll fuck that expectation away, I promise,” You threatened, “C’mon, if you’re going to take me, you gotta be prepared,” You swore he cooed once more, nodding. You pulled his boxers down to see his semi-erect length, and he stepped out of them obediently.

“Yeah, alright, yeah,” His voice was practically shaking. You put a hand under his jaw, pulling him toward yourself. He followed immediately, and you felt a wave of dominance fall over you. Most heroes would feel shameful being so submissive, but this boy practically held pride in it. You were going to love this.

“Let’s start.”

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 51

Whatever Bertol had done to her, Nenani continued to feel the exhaustion deep inside her body and limbs. Her arms felt very much as though weights had been strapped to her wrists, and she found the simple endeavor of keeping herself sitting upright to be alarmingly difficult. At last, the fatigue won out and she collapsed back against the bubble in a tired heap. It was a terribly distressful feeling, and she may have been inclined to worry more if not for the reassuring sight of both Farris and Keral only a dozen yards away.

While Keral’s gaze was firmly fixed on their captor, Farris was studying the condition of the humans as best he could from his vantage point. His green eyes met Nenani’s own and she placed a hand against the wall of her prison in a silent plea for release. Shifting his focus to Bertol, his expression darkened and his mouth pulled back into a bitter snarl.

“I’ll warn yer now,” he growled. “If ye’v harmed a single hair on their heads, I’ll draw and quarter ye myself.”

“They’re perfectly fine,” Bertol replied in irritation as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ye should be more concerned with how well Ellis is fairing, seeing as she’s the one been stuck in a damn jar for weeks.”

“She says she’s just fine,” Keral assured him and then jerked his head forward towards the bubble. “Now let ‘em go and I’ll let sparkles here out.”

Bertol did not move and merely regarded the brothers with reserved contempt. “You must think I’m an imbecile.”

Keral did not deny the accusation nor did his stare waver. Bertol’s own glare remained firm and unyielding and several moments passed where nothing was said. Abruptly, the tense silence was shattered when a small voice cut through with an irritated, “Oh for fuck’s sake, Bertie! Just let them go already.”

The severity of Bertol’s glare lessened and he addressed the occupant of the lantern. “You first. Then the children.”

“You must think so little of me that I could not escape this thing,” the fairy replied, rapping her knuckles against the glass. “Unlike the jar, this hasn’t been sealed. So let them go so we can all get on with our lives. I am desperate to spread my wings.”

Though not appearing the least bit placated by Ellis’s words, Bertol nodded mutely and waved a hand in a downward motion. All three bubbles floated towards the ground before bursting, and all three of the humans fell unceremoniously onto the grass. Nenani struggled to push herself up, her arms shaking badly. Jae was suddenly at her side, pulling her up with him and leaning her against his side for support.

“Watch it,” Keral growled, reaching up to the lantern and pulling the door open. With a sidelong glance at the fairy, he said, “I appreciate yer cooperation, Ellis. And yer help.”

“I suppose it’s my own fault,” said the fairy as she leaped into the air. Her iridescent wings unfurled from behind her and she stretched her arms and legs out, relishing her new freedom, as she hovered around Keral’s head as a golden ball of light. “I could have explained everything at the start, but magicians are so thick-headed about their worldview of magic, I didn’t see the point of even trying it. I’m just sorry Haiyer got mixed up in all this stupidity. And the others too, of course.”

Keral level a deadpan look at the fairy. “Uh-huh.”

The fairy flew over the brothers’ heads before zooming across the field. Bertol stepped forward to meet her, his hands reaching out eagerly, and the golden ball of light dropped gently into his hands. “I missed you, dearheart.”

“You sentimental old fool,” Ellis replied, though there was a smile in her voice. She rose up to nuzzle his nose and wrapped her thin arms around his face. “I missed you too.”

“Let’s go home,” Bertol said as he turned and began making his way back towards his tent.

“Not so fast there,” Keral said as he put down the lantern and slipped his pack off his back. He stepped forward, pushing his coat back to pull a pair of iron shackles from his belt. “Ye didn’t think ye could just up and trespass on the King’s property, abduct his son plus the heirs to Silvaara, and then just bugger off back into obscurity did ye? Ye’v got a lot to answer fer, Bertol.”

Bertol sneered at the ranger, pulling Ellis to his chest. “You have your waifs and I have my companion. Our business ends here.”

“I don’t think so,” replied the ranger, and then sprinted forward, his hands reaching out for the hermit. Bertol’s right hand pulsed with yellow light and he swung it in a circle above his head. A great wind cut through the copse of trees that shoved Keral back as it struck him. The ranger fell to the ground hard with a cry of alarm and pain. Farris scrambled towards the children and fell to his knees. His arms swept around to coax them all together and he used his body as a shield against the unnaturally turbulent wind.

Only when it died away did Farris raise his head, though he kept his arms curled around the humans. Nenani looked up to find that Bertol, Ellis, and the tent were all gone. She was still staring at the empty spot they left behind when, all at once, a deep chill settled over them. It was as though Bertol had been keeping the worst of the cold at bay and, now that he was gone, it was seeping back. Nenani’s whole body shivered with the sudden drop in temperature. The frozen grass under her was melting and soaking through the thin material of her nightdress, further exacerbating the problem.

Farris pushed himself up to study the humans below him. “Everyone alright, then?”

“I didn’t get to say hi to Ellis,” Haiyer murmured with disappointment from his place beside Jae.

“Damn raggedy old mage,” Keral grumbled bitterly as he picked himself up, favoring his right hip. He brushed away grass from his sleeves and backside as he surveyed the now empty lot where the tent had been. But it was not completely empty. Within the impression left behind, Keral’s eyes spotted the humans’ blankets laying in sad little heaps. The bright-colored fabric stood out starkly against the greenery. Bending down to gather them up, he brushed off the clinging debris while still muttering under his breath. “Fuckin’ moldy old goat.”

“Dammit, why is it so cold?” Jae demanded loudly while fervently rubbing his arms.

“Because its winter and yer damn near naked,” Farris snapped as he shrugged off the pack he was carrying. It plopped onto the ground and he began to fish around inside. “Luck fer ye three, I thought of that.”

He pulled out a wool coat for Jae who took it eagerly and slipped into it. It was a thick dark brown material that fell around his knees with a simple string belt to tighten around his waist. For Haiyer, he pulled out a tawny-colored padded tunic. It looked more appropriate for someone three times Haiyer’s size. “Wasn’t able to actually nab anythin’ of yer own, but this’ll keep ye toasty just fine.”

The tunic’s sleeves were far too long on Haiyer, but the little boy seemed content enough to let the extra length fall over his hands and drag on the ground. The thicker material would do well enough to shield against the cold.

Keral walked up on them while holding out the retrieved blankets. “These should help a bit too.”

For Nenani, Farris had brought one of the wool dresses that Lolly had made her when she first came to Vhasshal. She had difficulty slipping into it and Farris’s eyes narrowed as he watched her struggle. He brought his hand to her side, fingers curling around her back, and leaned down to peer into her face.

“What’s wrong, lass?” he asked. The creases of his forehead were more concerned than irritated.

“Tired,” she answered, leaning against his hand. “Bertol did something to me.”

The mild worry in Farris’s face was replaced with fury. “What did he do to ye?” he demanded.

Jae answered for her before she could form any response.

“She went all fire mage on him. He really didn’t like that.” He held his hands up and wiggled his fingers. “Then his hands got all glowy and he just sort of sucked all her magic out of her until her flames died out. He seems to have a thing against fire mages.”

Farris’s nostrils flared, but he held back his words and focused instead on helping Nenani into the dress. She had managed to get it mostly over her head by herself, but Farris had to pull the rest of the garment down over her. Once she was dressed, he took one of the blankets from Keral, wrapped her up, and then tucked her into the crook of his arm.

“If I ever see that bastard again,” Farris sneered, “I’ll skin ‘im.”

He growled and grumbled inaudibly for several more moments and then turned his attention to the boys. “Yer just gonna have to manage without shoes til we get back. But we’ll be carryin’ ye, so ye should be just fine.”

“And speakin’ ‘a that,” Keral interjected. He stood over Jae and Haiyer and dropped the two other blankets over their heads before standing back up. Ignoring their muffled protests, he planted his hands on his hips to gaze out at the scenery around them. “Yer not gonna like how long that’s gonna take.”

Farris frowned. “Just how far out are we?”

“Don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” was Keral’s frank reply.

Farris’s frown deepened. “What do ye mean ye don’t know? Yer a damn ranger.”

Keral returned his brother’s glare. “That was my first time taking a fairy portal, too. I’m used to knowin’ how I got to a place instead of being dropped down into it. What I can tell ye is we’re way fuckin’ north.”

“Well I could ‘a figure that much out myself,” Farris grunted, jerking his head towards the looming mountains.

“Fairy portal?” Jae asked after freeing himself from the blanket, and he looked back and forth between the brothers for explanation. “What do you mean fairy portal?”

“Just as I said,” Keral answered. “When the guards found ye all missin’, the whole castle lost their fuckin’ minds. Turned the whole place upside down. And we weren’t gonna just sit there and pretend like we were gonna find ye somewhere under the floorboards, so we decided to find ye ourselves. Grabbed some supplies and went to see if Maevis could give us an idea of which direction to go.” He scratched his chin and shrugged. “And then wouldn’t ye know it? A lil’ voice starts berattin’ us from an empty jar. Said we were irresponsible fer losin’ ye and some other insults I don’t remember. Then all a sudden that empty jar wasn’t so empty anymore. Maevis damn nearly fainted findin’ out not only are fairies real, but he’d been keepin’ one in his office. She offered to lead us to the fucker that nabbed ye three in exchange fer lettin’ her out and we took her up on that. She makes this big ol’ ring of light, we stepped through, and poof! Here we are.”

“And now that the fairy has left…” Jae prompted.

Keral turned his head to regard him with one eye. “We ain’t got as easy a way back as we did gettin’ here. So that means we’re walkin’.”

Jae wilted, pulling the edges of the blanket up around his face. “Wonderful.”

“Well, don’t be surrenderin’ to gloom just yet, lad. Might not be as bad as all that,” Keral replied. He pointed off to the left at the tallest of the mountain peaks. “That big one there is Mt. Vehnmir. So that must mean we’re somewhere in Dovencliffe or close enough to it. If we start headin’s south, we’ll start hittin’ civilization within a day or so. The Lords Harvington and Adler have hunting lodges up this way. If we can find one, we’d be able to garner some help from them and get a message back to Warren at the very least. Lord Brennan’s estate’s up here too somewhere.” Keral grinned down at Jae, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “And of course yourdear friend Lord Colem.”

Jae glared at the ranger. “I would rather walk all the way back barefooted.”

“Lucky fer ye, then,” Keral laughed, “I’ll be carryin’ yer sorry arse.”

“Great,” Jae grumbled. “First I’m taken hostage by bumbling fucking Bertol and then I get to be hauled across the country like a sack of potatoes.”

“A royal sack of potatoes,” Keral corrected smugly.

“You’re far too happy about this,” Jae told him. “Shouldn’t you be more pissed that Bertol got away?”

Keral crouched back down in front of Jae and ruffled his hair. The puckish tilt to his grin grew warmer and soft. “Just relieved to have found ye safe and in one piece, lad.”

Wrapped up snugly in his blanket, Haiyer ambled over to Keral and tugged on his coat. When the ranger looked, all he could see of the boy were his eyes and nose peeking out.

“Hm? What’s wrong, pup? Yer feet froze?” Keral asked, reaching down and gently nudging the boy with a knuckle.

Haiyer wiggled back and forth. “I have to pee…”

Keral raised an eyebrow and jerked his head in the direction of the trees. “Plenty ‘a trees over that way.”

“I don’t wanna go by myself,” whined the little boy.

Keral smirked and eyed him accusingly. “Don’t tell me yer afraid now.”

Even with the majority of the boy’s face covered, his expression of indignation was clear enough, and to further accentuate it he stomped his foot. “I am not afraid.”

Keral hummed in consideration. “I think ye might be.”

With nothing more than a glare, Haiyer turned on his heels and began to march towards the trees. The excess blanket trailed behind him like an overly long cape. Jae moved as though to follow, but Keral stopped him by placing his hand in his path. At Jae’s questioning stare, Keral whispered, “Let’s see how far he gets.”

He was nearly two thirds of the way to the nearest tree before his determined pace began to slow and then stopped. Haiyer turned just enough to see if Keral was watching. Seeing that he had the ranger’s attention, Haiyer gave his best pleading pout and made a high-pitched mewling sound.

With a shake of his head, Keral stood. Chuckling, he told the little boy, “Son, one ‘a these days yer gonna have to learn to take a piss all on yer own.”

“I know how!” Haiyer asserted vehemently as Keral approached. In a smaller, less assured, voice he admitted, “But I don’t want to.”

Keral gathered up the boy and blanket before making his way to the shelter of the trees. Farris watched them go with a sigh and shake of his head before turning his attention back to his ward.

“How ye feelin’, Dumplin’?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She wiggled within her blanket, thankful for the warmth. “A little better I think. Just tired.”

“Hm.” Farris did not seem convinced.

Glancing up to meet his eye, she said, “Thank you for coming to get us.”

He snorted a laugh, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Aye, well I got a wee bit tired of waitin’ fer someone else to go and rescue ye from all the shit ye manage to get yerself into. Gotta tell ye though, lil’un. Startin’ to get old.”

She broke out into a smile, but it quickly faded as guilt welled up. “Sorry you’re stuck out here.”

“A lil’ walking never hurt no one,” Farris assured her. “Could ‘a timed it better though. After that smokey bastard crashin’ the party last night, everyone was convinced he’d been the one to grabbed ye. The King and yer Mum were just about ready to send out the army.”

Nenani’s eyed widened in alarm and she tried to sit up. “What?”

He coaxed her back down with his hand. “Don’t get too excited now. I’m sure Maevis’ll have told him all that happened. So the sooner we can get a message back to ‘em the better.”

“Warren wouldn’t really send the army out,” Jae remarked, but as he said it, he looked unsure. “Would he?”

“Can’t rightly say. He was livid when they found all ye missin’,” Farris told him frankly.  “Chewed out the guards, chewed out Rheil, and Lolly said he was even throwin’ stuff.”

Jae looked very nervous and uncomfortable. “How long do you think it’ll take to get back?”

“Wrong one to ask, lad,” Farris replied. “My work’s in the kitchen. All this out here is Keral’s territory. But if we do find one ‘a these lord’s estates or lodges or whatever the fuck they have out here, it won’t be longer to get a message to His Majesty. If only to let ‘im know yer alright.”

“Was Mama mad too?” Nenani asked.

Farris shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Wouldn’t be surprised to find a few bits a furniture were turned into charcoal, though.”

………………………………..

Within the hour, they were moving. Jae was settled away inside Keral’s pack while Haiyer hitched a ride inside his large breast pocket. Farris made room inside his own pack for Nenani to lay down and rest. The sway of his gait easily lulled her into a dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes, feeling more like herself, it did not seem as though she had been asleep for very long. Her side was sore from where she laid against her dagger, but the pulling weight of fatigue was gone and replaced by a dull ache in her belly. She had only nibbled on the apples Bertol had doled out to them and now she was properly hungry.

Farris had left the top flap unbuckled and slivers of day light shone through the gaps. The swaying of the pack made getting to her feet tricky, but once she got a good hold of the top ridge she managed to hold herself up. Pushing aside the top flap, Nenani poked her head out into the crisp mid-morning air. The sun was further up in the sky, but not quite directly above them yet.

“I promise you Keral on my life,” Jae was saying with real vehemence. He too was standing inside the pack with the flap pushed aside. “The lyric goes ‘and I’ll be gone by morning,’ not ‘I’ll be fine by morning.’”

“Hm,” Keral hummed in consideration. “Might be. Still like the other version better.”

Jae sighed dramatically and flopped over the ranger’s shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

Farris laughed. “No use tryin’, lad. That one’ll never admit to bein’ wrong.”

Keral turned to glower at his brother. “Me? Yer one to talk. I’ve met tax collectors more reasonable then yer moody arse.”

“Like to see how much ‘a yer manners ye manage to hold onto with my work load,” Farris shot back and then added, “And they’re paid more.”

“Ah, I’m sure yer justly compensated,” Keral told his brother and then under his breath, muttered, “ye kitchen gremlin.”

“Heard that,” Farris growled.

“Well, good to know yer hearin’ is still good.”

“If that was yer attempt at callin’ me old,” Farris replied with an unamused stare, “maybe ye need remidin’ that I’m only three hours older then ye.”

“And what a world of difference those three hours make,” Keral quipped with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Come off it,” scoffed Farris, but the edges of his mouth quirked in a suppressed grin.

“Just let me know if ye need a rest, old man,” Keral laughed.

Wordlessly, Farris leaned over and punched Keral’s shoulder. The ranger winced and pulled a pained hiss through his teeth. He rolled the offended shoulder. “I’m tellin’ Ma.”

“Go right ahead,” Farris laughed. “I’ve got three more in reserve from the last few times she begged me to knock some sense into ye.”

“Yer just lucky the lil’uns are here,” Keral warned, but his expression was one of mock anger. “Or I might ‘a said somethin’ unkind.”

Farris chuckled and shook his head. The motion caused him to catch sight of Nenani and he turned to better look at her. “Did our bickerin’ wake ye up?”

“No,” she answered, smiling. Leaning forward to rest her arms over his shoulder, she watched the grass below his feet pass by. “I’m all better now.”

He rumbled approvingly, the sound sending light vibrations through her arms.

Another hour passed easily as they moved through the low rolling hills, and the sparse cloisters of trees began to converge more and more until they faced the treeline of a thick forest.

“This can’t be the north tip of the Blackwoods, can it?” Farris asked, looking to his brother.

“Hm,” Keral hummed as he studied the trees before them and then looked up to mark the sun’s position in the sky. “Don’t think so. That would put us close to the Hoek boarder and Mt. Vehnmir is too far west. No, my best guess is we’re coming up on one of those hunting lodges I mentioned. At least, that’s my hope.”

“It’d be nice to get a message to the castle by end of day,” Farris remarked.

As the brothers spoke, Nenani took time to study the trees for herself. They were enormous things with their canopies reaching hundreds of feet above their heads. Though the season had robbed them of their leaves, the remaining branches jutted out every which way, with the smaller twigs spider-webbing out and mingling with those of the trees around them. The early morning fog that had dissipated with the climbing sun still clung to the inner pathways by virtue of the spindly canopy above, resulting in an eerie and ominous sight.

“Are we going through?” Nenani asked.

“Well, that’s the question,” Keral replied. “Do we go through or walk around? There’s no real way of knowing from where we are. There’s dangers to traveling through open land. No cover, for one. But that also means ye tend to see anyone trying to come up on ye. Most of the time, at least. In a forest, ye have more cover. But less of a chance at seein’ someone tailin’ ye.”

“What about walking around?” Nenani suggested, though even as she said it, she felt it was a silly question.

“Walking around might cost us a day, going through may only save us an hour. No way of knowin’ right now.”

“What would you do?” Jae asked the ranger. “If it was just you on patrol?”

“Me? Forest,” Keral asked, briefly glancing at Jae before turning his gaze back to the trees. “More resources, more cover.”

“Seems like we have our answer then,” Jae said simply.

Keral looked to Farris. “Ye agree?”

“If this is a lord’s land,” Farris began, his expression serious. “We could end up walkin’ right into a hunting party and risk earnin’ an arrow in our hides.”

“Ye ever been on a hunt with a noble, Farris?” Keral asked.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Farris replied wryly.

“They ain’t quiet affairs,” he explained. “Loud horns, squires whackin’ at bushes, and hollerin’ tryin’ to scare any game out into the open. We’ll hear any hunting party long before we come upon ‘em. And the season’s over fer that sort of sport. The lord’s still likely to be at the castle or on his way to his home estate. We’d be dealin’ with his resident staff.”

Farris considered this for a few moments and then nodded. “If there’s a chance goin’ through saves us a few miles, I agree. We should take it. Sooner we get these three back home, the better.”

Keral nodded. “I agree.”

Nenani kept quiet as they approached the tree line, all the while eyeing the skeletal branches above with growing unease. She could not explain exactly the reason for it, but she felt as though they were being watched.

And that they were distinctly unwelcomed. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

BONUS ART: 

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V8E2 LiveThoughts

And now, for episode 2; same deal as last time, spoilers for this weeks episode. 

RT getting a wee bit too real with the “curfew in effect” sign on the side of that building in the opening. Least here its a visible noticeable threat and not Corona. Still.

Oh, heh. “Hope has no place here.” Always did love that line. But that might just be the grimdark fan in me.

Overall Im not a huge fan of this seasons opening, it doesnt sound as melodic as the last couple ones. More...chaotic. I think thats intentionally but Im still not a fan.

Dude, Qrow, thats unsanitary. Seriously, clean that shit off. You’re gonna get like, tetnus or something.

And Robyn complaining to Qrow. I mean shes not WRONG but at the same time SHE was the one who decided to pass out during the crash. Dont go throwing blame around Hill, you were just as useless and dumb as everyone but Tyrian in that whole section of last season.

Correction, shes talking to Jasque Scnee who is SOMEHOW in the same prison as they are. Additional; hardlight cells with no visible emitters, no toilet or other commodities. This must be a holding cell of some kind. Unless the bed they all have is ALSO a toilet. Ew.

Yeah you sure about that Schnee? Indirect murder is still murder.

Whh...WATTS IS IN HERE TOO?! WHAT THE FUCK IRONWOOD. You dont have a maximum security like, ICEBOX lock up? Dude this is just ASKING for trouble.

Watt’s black eye is still there. Maybe there is something to him not having his aura fully unlocked. Or...something else. Im really confused about that.

Odd cell structure. Impromptu? Or is this whole room just modular. Cause its WAY too big to house just this many prisoners. Im getting the feeling this is impromtu, yeah.

Schnee thinks hes getting out, sucker. 

Mad props to the Atlas soldier for the brutality. NOW HIT HIM AGAIN.  Robyns smirk gives me life.

And Qrow suggests Operation Valkyrie. Im down. Ironwoods proven useless at this point, maybe his replacement will be more tactically viable.

Alright, Atlas has pulled all military forces out of Mantle. Guess that means Ash and CAMO would be out too. Officially anyway. Making note for future threads...

Cute about the news guy, but I LOVE the fact you can hear the former masculinity in May’s voice here, like she isnt fully finished transitioning. If its intentional, bravo. If not, still cool.

“Its time to show your teeth, Mantle.”  HELL FUCKING YES THATS THE KINDA SHIT IVE BEEN WANTING TO HEAR!

Ah and there’s the hoverbikes from the teasers. I really dont get why they’re so goddamn big. Surely you can miniatruize hovertech...right?

They’re big enough to have weapons installed IMO. They should have.

Ah okay here’s the rest of the trailer

Hey look more lesbians. Boy that one on the left is MAD.

I cannot believe these Grimm are dumb enough to not go AROUND the dropwall (and Im going to call it that until I get something else, its literally the equipment from Halo Infinite’s release trailer). I get Grimm are dumb but damn bro.

Ah okay, THATS the split. All the faunus live in the slums down in the crater. Mantle proper is the mid-level, and then Atlas is humans for the most part. As far as I can tell anyway. Literal stratification. 

Ugh, that whole conversation was so expositiony. Jesus fucking christ.

Holy shit this crews moving slow. Like, good fucking lord.

Personaly headcanon; that tiny fox toy Oscar rides past on his bike is later retreived by Ash. That is actually his bootprint on it too oddly enough.

Unity in this situation, Ozpin? Not likely. What you need is miltiary intervention and firepower.

Still not sure why there’s smokestacks in Mantle if everything on Remnant runs on Dust. Maybe its steam vents for the heating system.

So the Crater is literally a divide. Like a circular diamond mine or one of those “rabbit hole” gold ones. Literal wall holding its outside. 

Snowshoe Shipping. New company. Full autonomous workforce from the looks of it. SDC related of course. And its still running despite everything. The drones here are literally AKs. Motherfucker, I think I know where the idea for them came from. SDC literally just weaponized its fucking worker robots. 

And apperently Dust is refined in the Crater. Okay that makes sense. Does it come from outside or are they still mining it there I wonder.

Oh pnumatic elevator. STEALING THAT

“That isn’t relevant at the moment.” WAY TO DODGE THE QUESTION RT. YEAH BECAUSE THERES TOTALLY NOT OTHER COMPANIES OUT THERE RIGHT?

What the fuck happened to Penny? Did becoming the Maiden make her emo?

Lol yeah people are gonna die, its WAR Penny, eat shit and get over it. Fucking weaklings...

Your the maiden. Get over it. Go kill some people, you’ll feel better. Relish in power.

And Weiss is now dead from either pressure shock, thermobaric style lung implosion, forceful impact, or just being crushed flat. Oh, and asphyxiation.  Seriously that was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. REALLY NORA.

Oh hey, a banjo in the crater. It really is hicksville.

Fire dust crystals right into a metal container to keep it  going. Holy shit it only took us 8 seasons to see Dust used physically again...

Sheep nom map. Nom nom. 

Wonder who this Crimson she mentioned is.

Lil hops. Oh no shes too cute.  Also it seems Mantle is divided into sectors. Useful information. Wonder what designates them.

Hahahah Fiona’s uncles a mole XD

And good to know “crap” is a swearword on Remnant.

Sounds like Crimson is a person with the Huntress’s. With his accent Im going to personally imagine his a grizzled former veteran, like Sergeant Stacker from Halo.

Note; the map says “Mantle City”. Interesting. Wonder what the other option is. Crater?

Ohhh and a spudmasher. Wait...no thats not a grenade. Some kind of gravitational surge thing. Again. Okay seriously RT is it so hard to just make a FUCKING WEAPON? Nothing fancy, no special features, just something that kills the fucking enemy. 

Okay...what the hell. Those Grimm cleared out like they got a retreat signal...

Ohho whats this now...this thing looks a LOT more interesting. And SAVAGE. Damn, its beating the SHIT out of Oscar! I think I like this one.

It transforms. Like the Zeta Gundam. FASCINATING. So it must have a rapid transport/assault form of the original dog one then changes to this new one for close in? Or carrying I guess, its stealing Oscar. This must be the thing that Salem sent.

Yeah kinda looks like a werewolf.

Soooo why were they just standing there watching this thing beat up on him? It was open for a couple of seconds. Surely it cant be they were worried about Oscar, the best thign to do if an enemy is grappling your friend is to get in and take advantage of it. 

Its smart too, used Oscar as a meatshield. Apperently just long enough to distract Yang and then yeet her. 

Its got ONE HAND with Oscar in it you idiots, hit it all at once! Go for the legs and the other arm, knock it down, blow its head off. COME ON, its OBVIOUS.

Oh hey it talked. Good. That means it can probably feel pain.

There is no way those legs should work like that. They’re too small and its torsos the wrong shape. This things breaking physics. 

The arms are also way too long.

Also why are you just standing there watching it grow wings? Kill the fucking thing already.  Gotta admit the movement and screaming makes me think it feels pain. Interesting. Good to know.  That or its just body horror/squick.

And thats the episode. I like how Fiona calls them “kids” though shes probably about their age. 

[nayladoodles]

Gently

Azirapahle and Crowley enter a new chapter of their relationship

Beatrica Sandz is my oc There are days when Crowley is reminded that the world not ending, the failed trials (thank you body swap) and their new freedom did not mean his relationship with Aziraphale will suddenly change to be what he’s always wanted it to be. The angel seems quite content with their friendship staying platonic even though the demon has been helplessly in love with him since Eden before he realized demons can love. As he sits across from his angel for their nightcap he thinks about how much he wants to kiss his plump lips. “I love him so much..”  Crowley thinks to himself getting lost in his angel’s grey-blue eyes that reminded him of the skies of Eden after the first rain. So focused on his reverence he failed to realize that Aziraphale has stopped talking his cheeks a ruddy pink. “So beautiful…” Crowley mumbles, making Aziraphale turn even darker pink, trying to process what exactly he heard the demon he’s known for 6000 plus years mumble under his breath looking lovestruck. The flustered angel waits to see if Crowley will mumble anything else and sure enough Crowley stares at him reverently his glasses slipping down his nose mumbling something about kissing him. 

“My dear,” Aziraphale squeaks his entire face and the tips of his ears burning, “Are you with me?” Crowley is still staring at him like he hung the moon, his own cheeks pink and yellow serpentine eyes dilated. “My darling angel…” He sighs nearly spilling the red wine onto the beige tartan carpet. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelps moving to steady the glass before wine spills over its lip. Crowley blinks looking very much like he just woke from a dream. 

“You say something angel?” He asks righting himself in the chair. 

“Crowley are you quite all right?” Aziraphale replies looking flustered. 

“I am why? Something wrong?” Crowley asks, sounding concerned. “Did I zone out on you?” 

“Well yes you seemed to be daydreaming or something of that sort. K-kept looking at me like I hung the m-moon dear boy.” Aziraphale stammers his blush darkening.  Crowley has the decency to look embarrassed, his own cheeks flushing. 

 “Sssorry angel,” He replies his sibilant breaking his speech. “Did I ssay anything weird?”

“That I’m beautiful.” Aziraphale replies looking away. 

“Well, you certainly are beautiful.” Crowley replies, smiling at his angel. 

“I’m soft!” Aziraphale squeaks looking upset. 

“There’s nothing wrong with soft.” Crowley sighs. 

“If you say so…” Azira replies looking put out. 

“Angel you’re gorgeousssss~” Crowley purrs. 

“Crowley please…” Azira begs looking close to tears. 

“I ssshould go…” Crowley huffs the wine tasting sour on his tongue because he nearly made his love cry. 

“You can stay Crowley.” Azira replies. 

“I’m gone.” Crowley simply teleports into his car leaving his glass and a very flustered angel behind in the backroom. He drives back to his flat feeling guilty for pushing too far. 

“Overdramatic demon…” Azira sighs picking up the glasses to wash them his head still spinning from Crowley’s earlier confessions. They don’t meet again until the next Friday, Crowley still being eaten by the guilt of hurting Aziraphale’s feelings with his teasing (but entirely genuine) compliment. Aziraphale calls him up for lunch and they go for sushi. Aziraphale barely touches his sashimi distracted by the love coming off Crowley in waves. He’s in love with me? Oh dear Satan I thought it was only me after the Blitz.  He thinks to himself poking at the sashimi. 

“You not hungry angel?” Crowley asks having eaten his nigiri already. 

“Just distracted I suppose.” Aziraphale replies, picking up a piece of sushi and eating it, relishing the flavors with a soft hum. The love is nearly suffocating as it settles on his shoulder making his ethereal essence wiggle happily. After lunch Crowley says he has to run an errand and water his plants after dropping Aziraphale back at his shop. 

Crowley disappears for almost two weeks during which Aziraphale finally processes that his demon is in love with him and he took 6000 bloody years to realize that. “I’m such an idiot!” He huffs sinking into his arm chair on Tuesday of the first week. He thinks back on every time Crowley saved him or took him out for food/theatre. Even their walks in St. James Park. “O-Oh you wiley serpent…” He sighs his entire face burning as he remembers it all. Even the times when Crowley acted against the plan God had to save innocents. Covering his red face with his hands Aziraphale lets the love he feels for Crowley settle into his entire being feeling like a weight lifted off his shoulders. “How lovely…” He murmurs softly as the love warms him. 

He receives a donation the next day leaving him to rearrange and sort the news books into his collection. By Thursday he has fully accepted his love for Crowley and the demon’s love for him happily puttering around his shop hoping his knight in shining black armor will come and swoop him off his feet for a meal out or a show. When Crowley did not appear on Friday or Saturday Aziraphale began to worry that he may have chased him off. By Wednesday the following week worry had settled onto Aziraphale’s shoulders like a wet blanket as he paced around the shop feeling stressed because Crowley would not answer his telephone or cellular phone. The next day Aziraphale decides to go over to check on Crowley at his flat unable to stand the thought that his love is upset or injured. He arrives at the door and knocks three times waiting a good five minutes before unlocking the door with the spare key. “Crowley?” He calls closing the door behind him. He sees that the plants are green as ever. The ferns reach out to him as he passes by. He runs his fingers over their leaves gently smiling when they rustle happily. He spots the bedroom door and sees that it’s ajar. He goes over knocking on the door so as not to startle Crowley if he’s asleep. He finds it empty and sits on the bed putting his head in his hands. He so desperately wants to see his beloved Crowley to apologize for all the years of pinning he put Crowley through. “You big oaf...what if he gave up?” A soft shiver runs through him at the thought and his eyes burn. Tears begin to fall before he can think to stop them as he sits on the King bed wishing for his demon to come back. He puts his head back into his hands, tears dripping through his fingers as he sobs softly not hearing the door to the flat open and close. 

Crowley walks into his flat with Beatrice at his side still chatting animatedly with her about the whole death trials thing that happened. 

“M’ telling ya it was genius what you two pulled! Body switch and bam you’re free birds.” Bea says pausing when she spots Aziraphale’s shoes. “These don’t seem like your type of shoes?” She said. 

Crowley looks at them, “They’re not mine...oh ssshit…” He hisses heading for the plant room with Bea on his heels. 

“Ya need ta scold them ferns again romeo?” Bea asks as he walks through seeing them rustle fearfully but the one gestures toward his room. Crowley heads toward his bedroom panic rising in him. “What’s goin on romeo?” Bea asks him as he strides down the corridor hurriedly. 

He gets to his room ignoring the only demon in all of hell he enjoys hanging with and pushes the door open seeing a figure on his bed shivering, “Angel?” 

Aziraphale’s head snaps up tears still rolling down his cheeks at the familiar voice and he nearly smiles until he spots Bea hovering at Crowley’s heels looking confused. He feels something in him snap and stands as Crowley crosses the room. “S-sorry to interrupt whatever it is you were doing...you didn’t answer my calls but I can see that y-you're busy…” Struggling to wipe his tears and not miracle himself out of the flat he turns to go 

“Angel no! It’s not what you think!” Crowley grabs his wrist looking upset himself.

“Let go of me Crowley. You’re c-clearly busy with your lady friend.” Azira struggles to escape. 

“He only tolerates me cause I don't want to kill ‘im if we’re bein’ honest right now.” Bea chimes in. “Perish the thought of ‘im actually liking me enough to want to cuddle and preen wings like he does with ya.” Both men blush at the mention of preening. "He only has eyes for ya as I've heard him wax on about plenty all these years." 

"I'm sssorry for vanishing on you angel." Crowley murmurs, relaxing his grip a little. 

Aziraphale slips his wrist free his entire face red. 

"You slept for a century once.." He utters embarrassed he assumed Bea was interested in his demon. "I shouldn't have assumed…" A tear escapes down his cheek and Crowley wipes it away. Aziraphale brings his hand up to cover Crowley's who watches his face reddening. Turning his head Aziraphale kisses the palm of Crowley's hand. 

"N-ngk." Crowley stammers his eyes wide as he falls even more in love with his angel who blushes darker as he feels his demon's love grow. Bea rolls her eyes glad these two finally figured it out. "Still too fassst angel?" Crowley asks his face red. 

"Oh hush." Aziraphale huffs pulling Crowley closer and resting their foreheads together. Crowley sighs softly basking in Aziraphale's warmth. Bea goes to make tea and coco so they can have their moment. When she finishes she calls to them to come get their drinks. The trio ends up on the couch. "So Beatrice is your only friend in hell?" Aziraphale asks. 

"Mm she isss the only one that enjoysss my dramatic bullshit." Crowley agrees. "She and I met about 100 years after Eden." His ears turn darker red "'bout the time she made me realize I'd fallen for you…" Aziraphale looks shocked. 

"Since Eden? Oh my dear how long I've made you wait out of fear." He sniffles. "It was the Blitz when I began to realize and was afraid for us both." Tears started rolling down his cheeks again. "You ran into a bloody church to save me and saved my books despite the ground hurting your feet." 

Crowley wipes his tears again, "Love is really bloody complicated but, I never regretted coming to your aid. I liked being your hero. Made me feel less like a demon. Wass nice." He nuzzles into Aziraphale's neck wrapping his love in a hug. "Our sidesss aside from Bea could go ssscrew themselvesss." 

Bea snorts amused, "They still can. Idiots the lot of 'em. No wonder ya two outsmarted them." 

Aziraphale snuggles into Crowley's embrace insecurity still plaguing him. He's glad they took a step forward after everything they've been through together the past 6000 years. 

"I can hear you thinking angel and no I won't grow bored of you. I love you too much to ever let you go." Crowley tells him waving his hand to make their drinks warm again. Aziraphale jumps when Crowley manifests his wings wrapping one around him, "We can ease into this new chapter of our relationship as gently as you need." 

Aziraphale smiles and leans over to kiss Crowley. His demon melts into the kiss with a happy sigh. When he pulls away Crowley looks lovestruck his face red as his fiery locks. 

"You can be such a bassstard sometimes…" Crowley hisses but he doesn't move his wing from around Aziraphale. Aziraphale smiles into his coco as he takes a sip. He leans on Crowley's shoulder enjoying the love coming off him in waves. It's going to take a long time to overcome his insecurities but for now a long overdue kiss and cuddles is everything he wants as they ease into their new relationship

Gently. 

[elenatria]

If you ever draw/write about Bacho-"sexy vodka Dad" and Pavel-"I am a puppy too, look at me" i Will be finally able to go sleep in peace after the tears i have spent for this show, the dogs and all the things i have learnt over the years about Chernobyl and that will always terrify me (im from Italy sorry for my English).I have the unhealthy habit to use smut as a way to cope with fear and depression + i am a shipper trash + i love your art. Thats just me, 3,6 out of 15000 not great not terrible

Oops, I just realized this was the first mention of Vodka Dad. Sry. And darling, we’re all coping with something here. Coraggio.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407543/chapters/48586697

Strange, feverish dreams taunted Pavel’s sleep that night. Later on he wondered if it was too much vodka or the smoke he inhaled from his comrades’ joints; or maybe it was the constant worry that something might happen to the stranger who had taken him under his wing, the only man in his life who bothered to teach and protect him.

He dreamed of dogs with children’s faces and children with dogs’ faces grinning grotesquely at him, their teeth glinting in the sun. Closing one eye he pointed invisible guns at them, and he was suddenly five again. His father was giving him a toy rifle for his birthday although Pavel couldn’t see his face. “But it isn’t my birthday,” he tried to mumble, his lips and tongue heavy and swollen as if he had just been to the dentist. “Nonsense,” his father replied patting him on the back, “it is your birthday every day.”

The eerie abandoned yard from a childhood he never knew was replaced by red padded seats as he found himself watching “La Boheme” from the balcony of the National Opera House. Bacho was sitting next to him in a beautiful cream suit and a tie that were complementing his olive skin, holding his hand, crying. When Mimi in her deathbed sang to Rodolfo “Nobody is alone in April” Pavel turned to ask if that was the same Mimi they used to feed at the park, only to find him pointing the toy rifle at him before turning it against himself. Bacho steadied it under his chin and before Pavel could do anything to stop him, he pulled the trigger mouthing “Bang!”.

Pavel didn’t hear the deafening shot, instead he felt it in his gut when everything turned white, engulfing him in a deadly light.

Not a single sound came out of his throat even if he knew he was screaming his lungs out.

He woke with a jerk and a gasp and panted desperately for air, for toxic, poisonous, radioactive air, the only air that he had. The sweat on the nape of his neck and on his thighs was pooling under him making him sticky. Since he got there he thought that any dream with Bacho would make him hard and sticky but instead of delightful swelling and moisture, the only dampness on him was gathering in the corners of his swollen eyes. The shock of a voiceless cry was rippling through his body making him choke again and again until his whimpers weakened into silent sobs smothered by his pillow.

It didn’t take him long to remember he was crying like a baby in a tent with another nine men. He held his breath to listen: luckily, they were still in their cots, snoring. He cocked his head, looking for Bacho in the half-light.

The cot was empty.

He put his clothes on hastily and tiptoed out of the tent making sure there were no eyes watching him. Garo was the only man outside, sitting on a small barrel and smoking alone like he always did before breakfast, piercing the teal blue mist of dawn with his crimson snuff.

“Where’s Bacho?” Pavel asked.

Garo made a couple of smoke rings like a man relishing the solitude of an early morning before he bothered to reply. “Gone,” he croaked spitting out a leaf.

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Pavel felt his pulse quicken furrowing his brow. “Why so early?”

“He’s gone hunting.” The Armenian inspected the boy’s lost expression with eyes as curious as they were fathomless. “Alone,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Well… did he say why?”

“No, he just told me to keep out of his face or he’d chop my balls off.” He tilted his head sideways resting his eyes below Pavel’s belt, as if to measure him. “Not sure you’d get the same treatment though,” his voice trailed off mysteriously.

Pavel stood in front of the man and gaped, unable to think of a fitting answer.

“He’s getting the truck now.” Garo puffed out the last smoke, threw down his cigarette and ground the butt into the dirt.  “You might want to catch him,” he nodded at Pavel knowingly.

Pavel’s eyes widened as he felt ants crawling all over his body.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

With a single sharp inhale he held onto his hat and sprinted through the silent tents until he reached the trucks. He halted in the middle of the parking lot, frantically scanning the empty immobilized vehicles, almost sniffing the air for Bacho’s manly scent. He crossed a couple of aisles until he spotted the heel of a black boot disappearing into a truck. A veiny dark-skinned arm slammed the door closed.

“Wait!”

Pavel ran to the truck and banged his fist on the glass until Bacho was forced to lower it.

“What the fuck are you doing to my window?” the irascible Georgian barked. “Get the hell out of here, go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?” Pavel coughed trying to catch his breath.

“Animal control, what did you think?” Bacho spat, annoyed.

“Alone?”

“YES, alone, now keep walking.”

“I’m coming with you,” Pavel cut him off decidedly, ran around the front of the truck banging on the hood as if they were going on a picnic at the end of the rainbow and pulled at the door handle before Bacho could jump over the seats to push the lock down.

As Pavel barged into the truck he almost fell on Bacho who was still reaching for the lock. The older man raised his hands, defeated.

“I thought I wouldn’t babysit just this once…” he rolled his eyes.

“Who says you’ll have to babysit me?” Pavel quipped, his face as expressionless as a statue.

Bacho shook his head and started the engine, cursing under his breath.

[webcricket]

Castiel Imagine

Imagine: An impromptu angelic make out session on the bunker’s map room table with Castiel.

(A/N: Non-explicit fluffs. Also, you have my permission to blame @morganas-pendragons for inspiring this one.)

Congregated around the graphic-lit design of the map room table, Sam and Dean’s strategizing about the current case - one concerning dinner plans which evidently exists as a high stakes life or death scenario judging by Dean’s grousing tone when Sam brings up the slippery subject of burger grease - coalesces in Castiel’s perception as a buzzed murmur.

The magnitude of angel’s attention fixes on your face - your right cheek to be exact, the plump smile-dimpled feature barred to him as you peer up from perusing the pages of a book to watch the brothers escalating argument. He notices with particularly titillating interest - a curious static excitement prickling the outer surface of his vessel - the way the golden light of the room shines its soft warmth upon your skin, reflects in amplified vibrancy of amusement in your eyes, and highlights the silken pink peaks of your lips where your tongue emerged a moment ago to wet the tempting shell in suppression of a laugh.

In so far as an angel possess the ability to imagine, he imagines the impress of a kiss placed there; his kiss - an acquiescent release of the electric charge of physical attraction penetrating to his celestial heart fervent for an outlet to ground itself. His lips press together in temptation of thought; he can almost taste your sweetness.

“Cas,” you breathe his name, repeating it in a gentle - somehow melodic in the utterance of a single syllable to his ears - tone when he doesn’t react, “Cas.”

His lashes widen at the realization that in his distraction your gaze shifted and the charming curve of your smile, parted around the exhalation of his name, bends on his blushing aspect. Glancing sideways to shield his shy desire, he sees Sam and Dean have not only quieted, they are gone.

“They decided on Sal’s Birdland.” You follow his averted regard to the empty seats.

Clearing the nerves thickening his throat, Cas looks down at the hands clenched in his lap. He flexes the fingers, wiping the strangely sweaty palms on his pants. The action both redirects his abashedly shaken senses and tingles the friction starved flesh below the fabric. If he’s not mistaken - and contrary to what the Winchesters and he himself may believe, while his methods may frequently be flawed, his reasoning rarely is - the aforementioned dining establishment stands two counties over. “That seems ... far. To travel for dinner, that is.” He mumbles the gravelly observation at the floor.

The sound of the book tossed on the table, its weight clapping sharp on the glass when it settles, lifts the angel’s furtive focus to you.

“It was my suggestion.” You smirk around the statement.

Confusion narrows his lids, an unspoken question of why you stayed behind if you suggested the location swirls within his blues.

Arching a brow, you add, “I figured we could both use a break from those boys.”

Time off in the so-called Winchester brand family business is rare; time alone with you, more precious than anything in the angel’s estimation. “Oh, I-I see.” He gulps a re-flux of gratitude for the unanticipated opportunity he has no idea how to take advantage of, or whether he should.

It’s your turn to lower your eyes. You wonder if he does see; if you see what you think - what you hope - you see, too. Castiel lacks the skill of subtlety to mask a growing fondness for you; you feel part of it has to do with him not understanding fully why he feels as he does and how to respond to the newfound emotion. The intense sessions of staring were your first tip-off; his total absence of composure at times such as this, seemingly confirmation enough.

You wonder if, with his angelically heightened aptitude, he recognizes what he does to you - the skipped heartbeats, the flickers of fire in your belly, the storm he churns beneath the outer show of sangfroid you maintain - for what it is. You pick at the white threads framing a patch of frayed denim at the knee of your jeans. “Looks like we’ve, uh, got the place to ourselves then for a few hours.”

Although the hair at his nape thrills at your words, a numb neutrality rasps his agreement as doubt secures him motionless to his seat. “Yes, I suppose we do.” A lot can happen in a few hours. The possibilities muddle his mind, paralyzing him.

The silence and stillness between you extends too long. You stand, and twist away from the table without looking at him lest he perceive the disappointment dampening your expression.

A lightning bolt of courage strikes him to action at the threat of your retreat. “Y/N, wait!” His voice reverberates thunder. Rising to follow, reaching out, he clasps at your arm to halt the momentum of escape and moves to block the path to the exit.

Pure instinct instructs you to flatten a hand defensively to his chest; and yet, relishing the heat of his skin where it wraps your wrist, you do not protest the contact. His lungs expand in a bracing sigh beneath your palm. You’ve touched before, even more intimately than this within the bounds of friendship - a hug here, a healing wash of grace there - but there’s something more burdening this embrace.

You both balance at the brink, poised over a precipice so deep you know once you leap into it there’s no saving either of you.

For a few unrelenting seconds he studies where strong fingers lightly encircle the delicate bones of your wrist; pleasant surprise and deep affection dance in the dark dilation of his pupils when he meets your eyes. Sparks of flame ignite in your stomach as he cases his arms around your waist and gathers your limply pliant form to him; dipping his head, he brushes trembling lips cautiously to test the corner of your mouth for consent.

Knotting your fists in his trench coat to yank him harder against you in yearning, you tilt your chin to banish the hesitancy of his kiss.

A low growl rumbles in his throat; urgent need to express to you a depth of emotion felt and so far unsaid overwhelms him. His hands, and grace, and wings unfurl to shroud every inch of you.

Stumbling, fumbling with fabric, seeking the friction of skin on skin, a symphony of sighs, soft groans, and gasps between fervid kisses echoing in the expansive room, you fall back against the map table in a whirlwind cushion of black feathers with the welcome weight of the angel braced over you dizzily testing the limits of your breath and body with his devotion.

Castiel tag list:  (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!)    @jeepangel  @sammiesamness  @willowing-love  @roxy-davenport  @blueicevalkyrie   @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11  @thesugargalaxy    @bluetina-blog  @dont-trust-humanity  @afanofmanystuffs  @honeybeetrash  @bucky-thorin-winchester  @superwholockz   @tistai  @wordstothewisereaders  @gill-ons  @mrswhozeewhatsis  @marisayouass  @stone-met   @castiel-savvy18  @samualmortgrim  @trexrambling  @magnificent-mantle  @kdfrqqg  @xdifsx  @moon-and-stars-cas  @mandilion76  @rockfairy  @peaceloveancolor  @unicorntrooper  @anisolatedship  @itsilvermorny  @aditimukul  @kudosia  @goofynerd-67babylove  @uninspirationalsonglyrics  @gray-avidan  @mishascupcake   @mishapanicmeow   @praisecastielamen  @roseyhxnt  @jessikared97  @let-the-imaginationflow  @warriorqueen1991   @sebastianstanslefteyebrow   @hisnameisboobear  @kristendanwayne  @fuschiarulerinthebluebox  @coolpencilpie  @jenabean75  @alisonkenway  @luciathewinchestergirl  @morganas-pendragons  @heyitscam99  @fangirl-and-stuff  @selahbela  @realgreglestrade  @splendidcas  @pointlesscasey  @lovelyangelofasgard  @i-larb-spooderman  @thewhiterabbit42  @thelostverse  @castieliswatchingoverme  @beccollie18  @dragonett8  @dixie-chick  @jtownraindancer   @carowinsthings  @passionghost  @sherlockedtash88  @futureparent  @gabbie7-11  @myfandomlife-blog  @dreamerkim  @samael-has-arrived  @shamelesslydean  @earthtokace  @neaeri  @justanormalangel  @lone-loba  @supernaturalymarvel  @lilrubixx  @wings-and-halo  @thehoneybeecastielfollows  @musiclovinchic93  @81mysteriouslyme  @the-bottom-of-the-abyss  @jaylarkson @pixiedusts  @spookysculderfiles  @laqueus-ludovicus  @missjenniferb @lexininja  @jessiekay2010   @skrratata  @rhiannonj79  @calicat79

[hotheadhero]

Huntsman’s Dragon, Preamble

This is the preamble to a focused starter (link here). It opens with a flashback that doesn't adequately allude to the full thing, so I would encourage viewers to read this fully... buuut it IS roughly 2000+ words in length, so it's understandable/I can't force otherwise if you don't read it.

Prologue

He remembers lazuli eyes staring brightly down at him o’er golden belly and golden wings, long whiplike tail swishing teasingly just out of reach. He remembers swiping for it, jumping, leaping, chasing; but always even the smallest of tide-polished scales darts further away than his stubby hands can grasp. He remembers huffing and dropping his rump on russet autumn leaves, furious that he has failed even so simple a task. It’s just like catching lizards and crawdads, he thinks! What could possibly be so hard about it?

(The answer, of course, is that neither are as deft in the air as his current prey. Neither of them are dragons.)

“This sucks!” he cries petulantly into the woods. “You can fly and I can’t! How is that even fair?! Can’t I play with you, even just a little…?”

He doesn’t expect anyone will hear him this far from the village, least of all the dragon; yet lo and behold, it alights and approaches him slowly, eyes wary, wings tucked, ears flattened against its horns, spines raised like hackles on a cat. ‘Strange,’ he thinks; ‘Didn’t Father tell me scared things never come close?’ But the greater part of him is enraptured, amazed that a little king of the skies might actually have listened to him when even Julian would not. (He should have been frightened, for even on all fours, its shoulders are still level with his chest; both its tail and wings could knock him flat in one sweep.) Round-eyed, he reaches out with a stubby hand. The dragon looks like it could eat him for breakfast, yet it cringes away from his fingers. Forked tongue flicks out to graze their tips—pulse racing, Caspar holds still. Very still.

He is certain the dragon can feel his heartbeat in the still autumn air.

It doesn’t move from tongue-licking distance. Slowly, he uncurls his fingers, rests them on the dragon’s snout. It flinches back with a startled chirp—Caspar flinches and gasps in turn. They stare at each other for several long moments, round sky-blue eyes meeting slitted lazuli.

A leathery tongue brushes fragile skin once more. Then the rest of the dragon comes, scaled head gliding smoothly ‘neath callused fingers.

The boy resists an urge to whoop out loud—doing so will surely frighten his new friend away. Instead, he simply watches the little dragon nuzzling him; then, slowly, he begins to wiggle his fingers to and fro atop its head. Those tide-polished scales feel so much more divine than they look, like silk and plate combined. It twitches under his motions, but relaxes almost as quickly. Unblinking lazuli eyes stare up at him. Are they perhaps as curious as his own? Whatever the reason, it doesn’t run away from him. Maybe, just maybe, it likes him.

You know what? He likes it too.

“I think I’ll call you Linny,” he says softly. He’s kinda proud of that name–it looks like a lindworm, all long and snakelike, and it’s cute besides! By now he’s finished stroking its nose and moved up towards the short ridges over its eyes. It chirps at him in response, and he smiles. “I bet we’re going to be good friends, Linny…”

---

Thread Start

“Oi, didja hear aboot the dragon a’ Oghma Moontens?”

“‘ow could I not? Made off with me neighbor’s best cows just a moon ago, and me neighbor’s babe too. Poor lass still squalls at night, wouldn’t ya knew.”

Definitely the right village, he notes as he hitches Ulric’s reins to a stable pole beside the pub. Daevin had been a sprawling place on the regional maps, but now several of the distant buildings were wrecked clear down to the foundation. The dragon must have attacked this place recently for folks to be talking about it so openly—perhaps it had even attacked only once, if they had not learned its attack patterns well enough to hide. He’d ridden almost a fortnight from Enbarr to get here, ever since Gilead summoned him back from Arundel to update him on his current mission. “I’ve reports of a demon loose in the Oghma Mountains,” he’d told him, “ransacking towns, stealing the villagers’ valuables, and attacking the weak and foolhardy besides. My scouts confirm it’s a dragon, black-scaled, size fit to block out the sun. We don’t know where it came from, but it’s not part of the Grand Council, so it falls to us now to take it down. Be sure to wear your best gear. Failure is not permitted.”

Yeah, yeah, Caspar snipes at his internal Gilead-voice. For however much his father enjoys parading about in armor in the capital, all it’s ever done for him while traveling is earn him wary looks and wide berths, even when he’s doing nothing more dangerous than stabling his horse. He knows how they think: Even lone armed men coming into an otherwise peaceful town almost never bodes well. But even after years on the job, the way the villagers’ tongues still as they finally register the stranger in their midst still injures him. He’s not some creepy mage come for their scalps—heck, he’s even in plainclothes this time. At least, as plain as he is comfortable with.

Padded chestnut gambeson rustles as he straightens up from Ulric’s flank (he did bring his plate, as instructed, but it’s safely tucked inside two of the young destrier’s saddlebags) and takes a step towards the villagers. There are three of them talking. The youngest-looking one shrinks back as he approaches; Caspar gives them a smile and holds up his hands in placation. (He’s long since learned the value of his smile in distracting from the battle axe and other weaponry he carries.) “Easy, guys; I’m just here for a bit of information,” he says. An innocent tilt of his head. “Heard there was a dragon in these parts. Anyone I can talk to, to learn more?”

The bearded salt-and-pepper man relaxes before his companions, nods at the tavern just behind before tilting his head up. “Ye can talk ta me. I’m Mayor Borjondy. Run the pub jus’ behind ye. Ye from the capital, lad?” he asks. “Come ta slay it fer us?”

“That’s right!” His grin doesn’t falter as he steps forth with an open hand. “Caspar von Bergliez,” he introduces; “part of the Spectrum Imperial Guard. This isn’t my first go-around; rest assured.”

Borjondy nods as he takes Caspar’s hand in his burly, weather-beaten one. “Aye, thought so. Ye sound like a city boy, though me ears tell me you come from the east.” He completes the handshake and then drops his hand, expression pensive. “Been here all me life, I ‘ave, save fer me travelin’ days. We’s a simple folk, spend ‘ar days huntin’ an’ minin’. Don’t wan’ any trouble, unda’stand, but it would seem that trouble’s foond us.”

“Killed me wife an’ brother, it did!” the youngest man interjects. “Woulda killed me too if I ‘ad’nt run!”

Weren’t things like this what the Interspecies Accord was meant to prevent? A moment’s anger shoots through him that a dragon could violate the Accord so callously, but Caspar forces himself to remain calm. “Saving others like them is exactly what I’m here for,” he says, reaching out towards the man’s shoulder by way of reassurance. But the (hopefully) soothing touch does little to soften his glare. “Sounds like you’ve seen the beast, then,” he observes. “What did it look like? Can you remember?”

His question only causes the man to shake harder. “B- Black…” he stammers. “An’ ‘uge! Got paws like oxen, an’ wings kin block the sun! Oh, my poor Greta…”

The grief in his face mirrors in Borjondy’s as he steps closer to calm him down. “It’s killed some a’ my men when they was out huntin’,” he explains; “even tracked ‘em back here an’ wrecked ‘eir homes. ‘twere a livelier place, once, but now all ‘at’s left are the old ones and babes, an’ whoever’s brave enough ta stay an’ protect ‘em. But—it’s not a Hevring beast; that much I kin tell ya fer sure.”

“Not a Hevring drake?” Caspar is vexed. “How do you know that? Aren’t they the only dragons living in these parts?”

“Aye, ye’d think so, but this one’s black as pitch, not green like they say the Hevrings are. Come from the northlands, it did, though me lads here say it’s holed up in the eastern moontens now.”

“Those fookin’ Hevrings…”

All eyes turn to the third villager who until this moment has not said a word.

Heedless of (or perhaps relishing in) the attention he has drawn, the interloper prattles on. “Some a’ the womenfolk say them Hevrings’ll come an’ save us from it, but it seems to me they value their own an’ their kin’s scaly hides more ‘an any ‘coexistence’ they blather on aboot in the capital. Council a’ Seven, me arse,” he mutters viciously. “I bet it’s a council a’ four with three dragon fookers instead.”

Caspar bites back his rising retort. How dare this man lump his father in with the likes of Vestra and Gerth? But arguing will get him nowhere, and there’s still more he needs to know. “Where can I find it?” he asks. “Any known weaknesses?”

“Most times the beast stays close to the moontens, but not the mines. Ye’ll prob’ly find it if ye travel nor’east a’ them, towards Faerghus. Make sure you git ‘im good for me, lad,” the middle villager blurts then, seizing Caspar’s arm with a sudden fervor. “Ain’t no way we kin rely on them scaly twats if this is the sorta shite they pull.”

Borjondy nods sagely. “Agreed.” Then he looks directly at Caspar. “Call me old all ya like, but I kint help but feel as if this is an omen of some sort. Keep yer wits aboot’cha, lad. Somethin’ tells me the Council could fracture over all’a this in the future.”

Fracture? Last he’d heard, there was no evidence of discontent between either human or dragon halves of the Council of Seven. Then again, things were always strange when dragons were involved, so the young huntsman forgoes comment and dips his head in an informal but appreciative bow. “Thanks, mayor,” he says. “I’ll have its head before long—you have my word.”

He would simply have to ask Gilead about all this later.

---

The village of Remire is unsettlingly quiet as he rides into town, and it does nothing for the mounting disquiet of his mind. Only the furtive peek of eyes from behind the tavern window alerts him to the presence of any living souls in the area; and even then, it disappears almost quick enough to be imagined. Perhaps they’re all terrified of the dragon living nearby? Pondering it does not make his odds seem any more favorable.

For all his bravado back in Daevin, he isn’t actually certain how he is going to kill the thing once he sees it, especially without any other huntsmen to back him up. Slaying wyverns is one thing; they are universally weaker and less clever; but dragons? Most successful prior accounts spoke of trickery, of outwitting rather than physically outmatching the beast, and Caspar has much more confidence in the strength of his axe arm than the cunning of his mind.

He frowns. Miring himself in worrisome thoughts borne of too little knowledge would do him no good. Best he simply get out there and search for its lair. Maybe there he could find some clues as to what its goal is, what it wants with the villagers when it never bothered them before. Maybe there’s something he can use against it there, some way to take it down.

(And if he should find the beast inside its lair?)

(He’ll just. Tackle that problem if and when it arises.)

[the-firebird69]

eve lyn evil lynn and we hear them. they are or are not there. and he says in and out and the chamber proves it partly yes.  but they are not the salt tamperers. no. and we are not it was said mac was Zues Hera no no hey ahve to be opertional needed them all and they let it go for some reason could not access them mac daddy we know why nothing tod o with our inventor. no or the engineers no. trump and a blockade.  by whom.  \ mac daddy ask your son he was partly to blame tried for it. coudl not release it...the salt would not go through we heard it.  and it was not him too large.  and bja heard that. was enticed.  and now we are as bright as christmas bulbs. trump this is a trajedy. stone does not work that well nor absorb and hold it spreads. it is a poor design well his isnt we used it and this is how sandwiching and shielded adn flowing in the cure and changing work all da all night.  then this we are sunk. and were chainging stopped.  pooped out or worse. threat threat threat over threatenedd for years.  and by whom.  cork yes. dempsey exposed his drawing tampering and szabo ratted on his own work the panels to him and caa forgot...and he ranted said he knew...and it was mac loaded upt he train and each night. and cork your fault yours fall dead a lot and youdiid nto try.  so f off ok your a louse and started a trend most h umans fear. and you should as you rdwindling and should dwindle your useless. besides you are evelyn salt.  disguised as her you did the deed. andyes, it is her. jenna. Thor Freya  yu should see why, to seduce caa and take his torso and be him once and for all.  and he is the leader and we say he is not you.  and you destroy his brain, how dumb an idea   you rdead bja..dead.  i follow through your so fn dumb. and mac had you do it yes and it went past the time, and due to you again.  and your dumb there..and the ships are close mac had you do that annie ok. fag. your so lame and ps all yours want your  job.  and mac had you rant today is aperc and child.   mac is wrong way over it for gesus sake.and he is part tard.  adn you bja and trump fd it all up ahhaah lol it is funny you have no clue and ps trump said this. “i threaten a lot, i get  a lot from it” toay out loud. and “i will have it all and from right in front of them” and more “i use it gained it stopped it and had it done to me”  and he said this “if that weasel stops me he i s done” and after caa said all can see it and it cannot approach is too contminated so you did it to you he said “ i just committed homocide go check”  to garth adn he called it in, none would.  knew why he is a loser.  and he said “nothing will stop me from my goal” and he meant hitting caa and a gloabal hit on trump.  and due to the threat on earth.  and we decided to put it out and at vegas flroida...and on yur head and more than he has seen and by me.  to kill you. nobody talks abou tme that way you oaf. dead shit...and we puot it out and told them all its good moneymac beat it. right away too threatened any who touched it, our money.  ok in kind or Sim products.   i had it on him and took me all day, saw others do it.  and then this. here it is. and heard it. form his mouth.  and then this  threatened the inventor and sutff for hwat the fag wants it...to get hit. we sent ours in our message, go f yourself we dont bow to terrorists and certainly not to you trump signed wililam burns cia, and he cringed. and then this from mac..he speaks.  we have had it with you, your out you hear you are out and in writing...mac daddy yes me he says form me mac. and we sent one, it said this your dead.  and we hit no. but that was all. you are the dumbest crook i have ever seen and try to teach garth, wow, and under your wing a black guy ok, and rub nothing in my face but threaten my life for earths destruction and i am more or less a super cop and part of a huge powerful group you created an illusion for yourself and ohters that is not real you threatened me for real today im sorry for you.  not in  a personal way or real way just  athat your so dumb you do not realize your position. you threaten all humanity and as if they are nobody claiming you ahve a right whenno, there are plenty of stupid people who are oppressed who dont do or think what you do and you wont get away with it all of nyc know and tons of people want yoou dead and your ships troops left it was them dying.  further. you are not my boss son friend or other and ou aer over me here harrassing me, illegally. and ruined macs rhealm on your own fruition and in manny ways see attached.  you have no right to my life in any way and i will take yours to hault you from harming me regardless of others warnings threats and other. you our body are out. they take what they can.  and we incinerate you.  brain too.  and thank you ahe a nice day, Zues and my loving Goddess Wife Hera...and he is mine and your dead trump and the letter said exactly taht  bja says. and he is right he is exposed exposed usa ll and as these killers and mass ones and we seem like him wilin to thraten the universe. and to mac i wrote this it is understood you issued this threat as a statement that you and yours are willing to threaten humanities entire exxistance as well as the universe. you sicken me.  and we knew about it. now the popoulace that does not want to die nor do they like you have it. thank you. you moron. Zues and his loving Goddess Wife and our an idiot mac yu are fired rd ad you are rd your my son and ratted mac uo are a liar we  have it on tape feed it to tehm sponful after spoonful. one after anohter and we say this your a dog now due to bja. he did this to you gloats and says so be it and all is too stupd to see it iis wrong he is right all the populace we wont make it. now you are out ok mac daddy and yours. this is fools stuff rd no you are. he is too and ou. mac im not in your gang. yu may not say i am out when i am not in.nor put hits on methat wont be answered immediatly. Zues Hera or me and we dont but we see it. your not in ok and  i see im nuts.  this is bad it is bja mac it is. and you but you lost your tct and cover adn cooth and fotrune and more health to the idiot. andlove it and relish it and wont stop. Thor Freya he is paying you alll back and wont stop macs and s we have to stop him he wants to destroy us all.  and use him to make it or not.  sow e see him. h e is evil as hell. Hera Zues and we see that he is dumb but dangerous and yes ruined tons of macs plans and this one crumbles this year.  tons means tons of stuff is gone due to bja. and he is mean too abou tit says them. has no proof most look like his and he is an ass about htat too. Olympus we all had a say but this looks as bad as it sounds.  bja ruined us all. all. and he says it is him.  we doubt it.  you were are the one seen ruining it. now i want justice and you out fo the cia and for today you will pay.  and trump did say it you had him.    and he wont retract it trump is damaged and dangerous too.  and he puts hits on him. so he dies. this is true  yuo cannot others hit and use it..bja you go away now we hit you mac daddy we p uot the order out on bja and mac. too long this idiot banter i n our court Thor Freya this is going to be helll i hold bja responsible he will blame asia for his crimes and they will attack us and him overseas. i want out of this and he si the source. now we meet macs and talk mac and we fire you see your hatred your out of control tard boy.  now you need to hault .  and stop yourself.  bja cant. we see it too your poushed and he is but gezus yur worse than they are and they are havenly bad. ok. now i issue orders and troops .enough we read it this is howe it goes he gives us the runaroudn we do it to him. meanwhile he smiles i sell it. now.  and ours can and do ride fast. fstr than your olympians could ever ride.  your slow fatassed idiots demanding we help.  and it is enough to say today we got intel we needed on you.  info too. up and down stuck to him. still after all these yaers of buringi you off. so we have  aplan and it is good. Thor Freya

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZ40WlshNwU

[1800areyouslapping]

mcreyesanon asks and musings under the cut:

Unfortunately, ask number 1 never went through, but I think I get the gist of what you were trying to say there anyway. 

Reyes ‘likes’ to punish the twins? They’re a couple of hooligans so of course they are always working his last nerve, getting into trouble, mouthing off, and just being general shits. One of these days their shenanigans are gonna get one of them killed, or somebody on the team killed. When he’s spanking em or taking his belt to their backs he makes them feel like it’s a privilege to be receiving it, “I don’t take the time out of my day to this for just anybody,” he says as he brings the belt down onto sister’s back, “I do this because I care about you, and you need to fuckin’ learn.” 

Of course, Reyes is so hard on them during training. Doesn’t stop for any broken noses, doesn't care about any of the blood that gets onto their clothes. Don’t wanna get hit? Well then learn to dodge the way he told you to. “Come on, Dad, you’re a fuckin’ super soldier, give me a break.” Reyes closes the space between the two of you faster than you can blink, grabs a hold of your shirt, get’s right in your face, “And? You think any of those omnics are gonna ‘give you a break’? Any of those other genetically altered freaks are gonna ‘give you a fuckin’ break’? Stop. Making. Excuses.”

I really like the idea of Reyes smacking them in the back of the head all the time, as his way of telling them to knock it the fuck off, or hell even just as a hello. Nobody pays it much attention around the base, it doesn't look like much. A lot of people actually think it’s funny/cute, and the kids never really react negatively to it. 

But it always makes their head spin a little, makes their gut turn. But once the initial bodily reaction passes they’ll smile and say, “Sorry, Dad.” or “Well, hi to you too, Dad.” Rub the backs of their heads and relish the contact, because the small gesture is just another form of affection and attention that they crave from Reyes. Him smacking them upside the head might as well be, ‘I love you’ to them. 

“They worship the ground Reyes walks on.” Yes, absolutely. The twins practically see Reyes as a God, a veiled angel. He could never do any wrong in their eyes. I picture both of their parents died when they were young, like 6-8 years old. They barely remember any of the love or affection they received from them, if any at all. No one has ever cared for them, or taken the amount of time Reyes has to improve them as people. To ensure that they have the skills and the knowledge to survive. 

Reyes puts a lot of his precious time and effort into the twins, and there is absolutely no doubting that he doesn't do that for any of the other misfits that get recruited into Blackwatch. Nobody at Blackwatch gets to yell or push them around except him, he’s fiercely protective of them. Do not mess with the kids. Mess with the kids and you’ll have to deal with Reyes, and you don't wanna deal with him. Especially not if you put hands on the two recruits that he rightfully thinks are his. 

I see Reyes keeping them close under his wing for about 6 months to possibly a year before he really starts anything (sexual). Yes, they’re legally not supposed to be there. Yes, Reyes holds their fates in his hands at all moments of every, single, day. But Reyes is diabolical and wants to ensure that they are as emotionally invested him as he can get them before he flips the switch, and starts indoctrinating them into the dynamic that he dreams about. For all of Reyes’ harshness, the twins still feel safe and comfortable with him now. Loyal to a fault, obedient.   

It certainly makes sense to start with Jesse. He’s the one with sexual experience, sister!reader is a virgin in every sense. Reyes knows these things because of medical exams and hard conversations about the twins past. So one day Reyes is stressed, he really has had a hard fuckin’ week. While Jesse is taken aback by the request/suggestion (for the BJ), Jesse is damn near happy to oblige the Commander. Anything he can do to help him relax, after everything the Commander has done for him? It’s the least he can do.

Reyes keeps it subtle, keeps it casual with Jesse for a little while before he ropes sister into it. When it comes down to the real turning point, Reyes knows it’s going to be difficult. Knows there will be tears and sickening apprehension. But Reyes’ words might as well be magic in the twins ears. He could convince them that the sky is green and that the grass is blue. “Jesse has done so much for you, I think he deserves to have your virtue.” “You’re both a couple of good lookin’ kids, just look at eachother.” “Who could possibly be more deserving than your brother? You do love him, I know you do.” Giving him your virginity is the least you could do.

You and Jesse start to think, yes, that does make sense. You’ve seen Jesse naked before, seen him shirtless plenty of times... it’s just he’s your brother you’ve never looked at him like that. And as Jesse starts to undress and you’re doing the same, you’re looking at him and Reyes’ suggestions are really starting to settle in. Your brother is handsome, tall, and he has a nice body. You do love him more than anything else in this world. Reyes has a point; Jesse does deserve this. After all, he’s the one who relentlessly protected it, and did so much to keep it intact. 

But as you lay down and Jesse gets on top of you, you can’t help but start to panic a little. Your whole body starts to shake, your tummy hurts. You don’t wanna cry, don’t wanna make Jesse feel any worse than he already does. But no matter how hard you try to keep the tears from flowing, they fall anyway. Jesse looks to Reyes with one more small plea, maybe Reyes will demand that you guys stop. But there’s no sympathy there, just a subtle head nod to continue. 

I think that, as long as Reyes’ doesn’t protest it, Jesse would take the time to make sure you’re ready for him; he wants to make sure it hurts as little as possible. It just might actually kill him to cause you to cry even more cause he’s hurting you. Why would Reyes protest? He’s not in a hurry, the more the two of you touch eachother the better. So Jesse will gently finger you first, working you open, a little looser. Keeps trying to tell you to relax, lord he just wishes you’d relax a little. 

Jesse is barely able to rut into you for long before he comes. And Jesse feels like shit about it. He didn’t know you’d feel so damn good, so tight, so warm. He wasn’t prepared to lose control like that, the way his body reacted to being inside of his own sister. Maybe he should have taken a little more time. But he couldn’t of possibly gone any slower. He had wanted to pull out, didn’t want to unload himself inside of you like that. As if it would have made any difference at all. 

But what’s really going to twist the knife of guilt, is the fact that Reyes is now going to use this as a teaching opportunity. “Move it, kid.” He says as he takes Jesse’s place between your legs. As he looms over you he states, “Let’s get you properly broken in.” So Jesse just has to sit back as Reyes touches you. Kisses you, really fucking kisses you. Whispers things in your ear. Reyes has only been on top of you for maybe five minutes now. But Jesse can see that your body is going from the stiff board he had had while he was there, to a melted puddle. And is that... jealousy in his gut?

You’ve never really looked at the Commander this way either. You and Jesse have joked plenty about what a stud he is, but it was nothing too serious. Small crushes here and there, a couple of times when you had felt inappropriate little clenches when he dwarfed you during training. You had always brushed it off, you’re human after all. Now you can’t help the way your body responds to him. Gabriel Reyes is a man. He knows exactly what he’s doing, his body feels so nice under your hands, he smells good, and he’s not your brother. 

Most importantly this is Commander Gabriel Reyes. Your head is spinning, your body doesn't feel tangible anymore. This is so surreal, this cant actually be happening. What reality have you fallen into where you fuck both your brother and the Commander in the same night, if ever. You wrap yourself around him as he enters you, still shaking. You’re not going to stop shaking, not tonight. Reyes isn’t as slow or gentle as Jesse, but it still feels so, fucking, good.

You whine out, “Gabe.” You never call him Gabe, it’s always Commander, Boss, Reyes, or Dad. But he wants you to call him something else. Reyes growls into your ear, “Call me, Daddy.” Thrust, “Say it.” 

“Okay, okay-- Ah!-- Daddy...” He picks up his pace, and you just can’t figure out if this hurts. You’re still crying, so maybe it does, “Daddy... daddy...” 

And Jesse has just been sitting back, knocked into the same freak dimension that you’re in. With his dick getting hard again, and then he watches as Reyes actually makes you come. Reyes isn’t done, really he could go all damn night. But he pulls out anyway, thinks you’ve earned a break. He’s covered, he’s got two siblings, twins, to help keep him satisfied. He’ll make sure to praise you both, “Good girl,” “Good boy.” All this unwavering loyalty and control is exactly what he’s been daydreaming about. Finally, things are as they should be. 

Seriously, thanks for throwing up in my inbox. Come back anytime, my friend.

i dunno if you can tell but I love this idea 

It may be a little fucked that im in love with jesse/reyes now