#he’s got black insulating feathers and clothes on

[jadequeen88]

Crimson Canopy

The last thing you thought you’d be doing that day was seducing a god-like, mythical creature... 

PAIRING: Harpy!Hawks x Female!Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: oral/penetrative sex, praise kink (if you squint), wing kink, (it’s all pretty vanilla)

AS WITH ALL MY WORK THIS IS NSFW. ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS PLS

This is an AU with no quirks. Humans live a long side mythical races and creatures that they abuse for the most part. You’re part of a secret organization that saves and protects them. 

**************************************************************

Sweat dripped into your eyes as you reached the top of the trail. Panting, you wiped it away with the back of your hand. Wishing (not for the first time today) you’d gotten your ass out of bed earlier so you’d be out of the afternoon heat, you take a long drink from your insulated water bottle. You knew you had patrol duty today, but you still thought it was a good idea to stay up trying to drown your depression with bourbon.

As your breathing slowed, you pull out your phone to see a new message.

Bre: “Done yet? It’s really hot out! Did you find anyone/thing that was injured?”

You: “Not done yet. Got a late start. No sign of any traps set off so far. I’ll text when I’m done.”

Bre: “Good news! Stay safe :)”

You slide your phone back into the pocket of your cargo pants and sit on a nearby stump. From this vantage point, you could use your binoculars to scan the wooded valley below for anyone who needed help.

As you scanned the area, a thought you’d had a million times before flirted through your brain. “I really am disgusted by my own species most days.” If humans weren’t so ruthless, greedy, and arrogant, you wouldn’t have to be out here in the first place.

You were part of a secret rescue agency that saved endangered mythical creatures and races of humanoids from poachers. Whether it was unicorns murdered for their horns and blood, wood elves captured for horrific genetic experiments, or griffins murdered just for existing, humans were relentless. Although, most of the human population grouped elves and other intelligent humanoids into basically being animals themselves. Despite the fact that these races had their own languages, customs, art, and social hierarchy just like humans. The lack of empathy on the part of your race made your stomach turn and your blood boil.

It didn’t take long to spot your first victim. But this seemed... different. The cries were not fully human, not fully animal, but completely full of rage. And the wind! It was as if a small cyclone had suddenly rose from the ground and threatened to swallow the small patch of forest in the valley. You had no idea what could be causing the commotion, but you did know it was caught and needed help. It needed help fast. A lot of poachers had cameras or alarm systems to alert them when a trap was set off. You knew you had a small window or time before things got dire.

You expertly navigated your way down the hillside, having made a crude path over time on your patrols. Within a couple of minutes, you approached the ring of trees that were being violently shaken by the forceful wind.

When you looked into the chaos, you could see enormous, crimson feathers beating wildly into the air. Your eyes widened in wonder and horror when realization washed over you.

“Holy shit.... A Harpy....”

They were so rare and so removed from human society that many believed them to be fairy tales. But what you saw in front of you was definitely real. The creature beat their wings so furiously you couldn’t even make out the rest of their body. The growls and cries of rage still pierced the air as the wretched creature thrashed against its metal wire trappings.

It never got easier seeing just how brutal these traps were. A simple bear trap would be a mercy in some cases.

Not knowing a better way to get the creature’s attention, you let out a loud, high whistle.

The massive wings froze and you were able to see flesh between them. The harpy’s skin was crisscrossed with thin, metal wires that began to dig angry, bleeding cuts all over. A pang of despair rang through your chest. You noticed a golden blonde head slowly turn to face you.

For the second time today, you were absolutely astounded by what you saw in front of you.

A MALE Harpy! You knew enough about the creatures to know that only about 1 in 20 babies born were male. You’d never in a million years expect to come face to face with a Harpy. Let alone a male.

Once the shock wore off, another realization fell over you. He was absolutely, drop dead, gorgeous.

His long golden tresses hung wild around his face and his amber colored eyes burned through you. He had the chiseled jaw line of a Greek god and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment.

You quickly snapped out of it when you realized why you were there. You had to save him.

You slowly circled around to face him, palms out showing you weren’t a threat to him. He wasn’t buying it, though. You knew if he wasn’t bound by metal wires, he’d be eating away at your throat right this second.

Once you were face to face with him, you were able to appreciate the full extent of his terrifying beauty.

His perfectly sculpted chest was bare and bleeding from struggling against the wires of the trap. His mouth was pulled into a snarl, baring sharp canines and you were absolutely sure they could slice through you in a second. The only article of clothing he wore were a pair of woven cropped pants. They were made in an intricate pattern. The anthropologist in you wanted to ask what the material was made of and how it was woven... until a half growl, half whimper brought you back to the reality of the situation.

Your eyes trailed back up to meet the Harpy’s honey-golden irises. The pain in them made your chest ache.

“H-help.... p-pl-please...”

You froze, shocked that this mythical creature was actually able to communicate with you. Most elves you came in contact didn’t speak English. How could a Harpy, an even rarer species, speak it?

You didn’t have time right now. Questions could wait until later. You quickly swung your bag off your shoulder and pulled out your wire cutters.

The closer you got to the creature, you could notice tremors through his body. Especially at the base of his large wings. His right one was bound in what looked like a very uncomfortable position.

You held the wire cutters out in front of you and made eye contact with him.

“These will cut the wires. Okay? This will help.”

You made sure to use the word “help” since he seemed to understand that.

You received a curt nod, his golden, feathery hair flopping into his eyes a bit more.

After snapping ten of the vicious wires loose, he was able to remove himself from the rest. You noticed his hands had long, black nails that were reminiscent of talons. You looked curiously at his feet to see if he had talons. You always heard that Harpy’s had long, nasty talons for feet that they’d gut their prey with. You were slightly (pleasantly) surprised to see perfectly normal feet wearing plain, deerskin moccasins.

You heard a deep, rumbling chuckle and looked up to see him laughing at you while rubbing at his sore biceps.

“You expected horrible talons that I’d use to gut you with, no?” His eyes widened and he exposed his sharp canines when he said “gut you”. Something stirred in the pit of your stomach and you stiffened with surprise.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry! I’ve just... I’ve never met a Harpy, much less a MALE Harpy and you know, we hear so many rumors. I’m just fascinated by your species and culture and-“ you were silenced when he clasped one of his large hands over your mouth. He looked around, obviously sensing something you couldn’t.

He pulled you into a bear hug. You barely had time to register what was happening when the Harpy growled “Hold” into your ear.

With one thrust of his powerful, crimson wings, you were above the tree line. That’s when you heard a gunshot. The Harpy shot forward with incredible speed and didn’t slow down his speed until you were over the next mountain. When you were well away from the danger of the poachers, his wings flapped a little lazier and you were gliding along the air currents at a more relaxing speed.

After the initial shock wore off, you became more aware of your surroundings. You clung to the male like a koala hanging onto a tree. Your arms wrapped around his back tightly and legs around his waist, linking your ankles so you wouldn’t fall.

You immediately blushed as you noticed how hot the flesh of his arms were around you. One arm was positioned under you grabbing your outer right thigh. The other arm gripped your upper back, his strong fingers digging into your ribs right under your breast. You stiffened, embarrassed at the warmth growing between your legs. It’s not like you could really pull away.

You shift your hips nervously, hoping to make your position less awkward. The Harpy caught on to this subtle gesture and you felt his chest rumble against yours. Was he... laughing at you?!

“Excuse me... umm, Harpy... sir. Is something funny?” you ask, growing redder in the face by the second.

“Hawks” he purred in your ear. This did not help the growing heat your body was producing.

“What?”

“Name. Call me by Hawks. It is easier for a human to say than my birth name.” his voice was deep and he spoke with a musical lilt to his voice that was hypnotizing to you.

“Oh...” you trailed off, losing the train of thought you’d had.

There was a long pause before he continued speaking, as if he were pondering the right way to frame his thought.

“Amusing... it is.. amusing to me how easily a human female is....” he trailed off, searching for the right word. “Aroused” the last word was purred directly into your ear.

A shudder went through you and just as you were about to unleash a flurry of curses on him, you felt a jolt as his feet landed on wooden planks.

Hawks leaned forward and let you down gently. You could see you were on a balcony in the top of a massive tree. Branches concealed any evidence that there was a structure built into the tree. You followed the Harpy (or “Hawks” as you now knew him) into a small cabin like structure. Inside was one open room set up like a studio loft. You were amazed at how human everything felt. One wall was lined with bookshelves (guess that’s how he can speak English). There was a small kitchen area and on the opposite wall, a neatly made bed. You didn’t know what to expect a Harpy’s home to look like, but it wasn’t this.

You had so many questions to ask, but didn’t know where to start.

Any questions you had fell silent as the angelic Hawks turned to face you. Two slow steps forward and he was inches away from your face. You froze as his inquisitive eyes trailed your face. From your hairline down to your collarbone. He looked very serious; like he was studying a text book.

Hawks held up one of his hands and gently ran the tip of his index finger down the bridge of your nose. His soft touch ghosted over your lips causing you to involuntarily part them slightly. This caught his attention and his head cocked slightly to the right. He leaned in and you thought he would kiss you, but his face found the crook of your neck and he buried his nose into your warm flesh. You felt him breathe your scent in and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“You do not stink, human.” Hawks spoke into your skin.

“Umm. Thank you?” You questioned, not knowing if you should be offended or not.

“As children... we learn that humans are vile and evil. But you...” hawks trailed off, nuzzling his nose into your neck. "You are my savior”

Warmth spread through your chest and without thinking, you tangled your hands into his golden mop of hair and massaged his scalp. You felt his hands gently touch your hips and his beautiful wings encircle you both.

“Most of us are vile and evil, Hawks,” you whisper into his hair, breathing in his woodsy scent. “But some of us try to do better.”

As you continued to massage his scalp, you could feel a humming against your neck and a slight vibration running through his chest. Was he... purring?

Now was your turn to giggle. His face met yours with an embarrassed expression this time. He pulled away and his wings drooped slightly.

You cupped his face in your hands and touched his forehead to yours to ease his discomfort.

“That was a beautiful sound...” you whisper against his lips.

His liquid gold eyes met yours and you froze wondering what would come next.

Slowly, Hawks nuzzled his cheek against yours in a tender gesture. The purring noise quietly started back up and you returned his soft nuzzling gesture.

The earthy, warm smell of his skin was hypnotic. You sighed, wondering what his lips would taste like under your tongue. As your thoughts started spiraling further into your fantasies, Hawks froze.

“Taste...” he whispered, “May I taste you, human?”

Your eyes met again.

“Yes...” you whispered, mere centimeters from his face.

Hawks planted his lips onto your collarbone. After a soft kiss, you felt a long, languid lick trail all the way up to your shoulder. You bit your lip to stifle a moan.

Hawks was obviously not concerned with you hearing his reactions, because a low growl/moan escaped his lips as contact broke and he licked up your neck just as slowly.

The second lick made you shudder and your voice escaped before you could bite it back.

The purring sound got louder and he nuzzled your ear with his nose. The grip he held on your hips tightened and he pulled you in to meet his body. You gasped as you felt the bulge rubbing against your thigh.

“CHRIST he’s huge...”

“Hawks...” you choked out his name in a whisper.

He met your gaze. He was smiling sweetly and his eyes were wide with excitement. You paused and looked from his bookshelf to his face. Then, your eyes traveled around his walls. They were littered with paintings of humans (mostly women) and a lightbulb clicked on.

You grinned slyly and he looked confused.

“You have a human fetish....” you growled seductively.

His eyes widened and his cheeks turned red. His embarrassment only turned you on more. Realizing you had an advantage over the god-like being gave you an abundance of confidence.

“Please sit,” you gesture towards his bed. Slightly confused, he follows your direction.

You walk over and stand in front of him. You hold his hands and look into his eyes.

“First thing’s first. My name is Y/N. You should probably know my name before we begin.” He returns your soft smile.

“Y/N.... I like it.” Hawks says softly.

You melt hearing your name on his lips. Still holding his hands, you place them at the hem of your shirt.

You tremble slightly, in complete disbelief. Seducing a rare, mythical being wasn’t even close to on your mind when you awoke this morning.

“You can undress me if you’d like” your voice cracks and he senses the nervousness in your voice.

Hawks grabs you around the waist and gives you a reassuring hug, burying his face in your stomach.

He pulls away and stands to face you. You raise your arms to make it easier for him to remove your shirt. First your shirt, then bra, then pants are removed. You’re standing face to face with Hawks in nothing but your panties.

He sits back on the bed studying you then kneels in front of you on the floor. Your heart does a somersault in your chest as he grabs your ass.

Hawks plunges his face between your thighs and breathes in deeply. You shudder and moan as you feel his sharp nails dig in to your flesh.

He looks up at you, pupils so dilated you barely see the gold irises.

“I will try to be gentle... human” he pauses and smiles showing canines “Y/N”

Hearing him growl your name causes your knees to weaken and Hawks is quick to hold you up in his firm grasp.

With speed and precision, he takes your panties in his mouth and rips them off, tossing them to the side. Before you register what happened, you’re tossed onto the bed and have you legs draped over Hawk’s broad shoulders.

The Harpy’s wings fly open blocking almost all the light in the small room then slowly descend to tuck behind his back. You watch, hypnotized by the beauty of them. He notices and sports a prideful smile.

“Maybe this is part of their mating ritual? Remember to ask him later...”

Your inquisitive thoughts were ripped from your mind as you felt Hawks’ tongue enter your sopping wet hole. Your hips bucked into his face as a guttural moan escaped your throat.

He begins lapping at you gently, drinking you in. Then he pulls away meeting your gaze.

He takes a finger and experimentally rubs your swollen clit. You throw your head back and nearly scream out with pleasure.

“This... is a human female’s pleasure point. Yes?” He smiles, knowing the answer by your reaction.

“Shit, FUCK, yes... ahh, yes it is. But it’s very sensitive and has to be handled gently” you try to talk while he’s still rubbing small circles around your clit.

“Mmmm...” he hums removing his finger. You feel his arms wrap around your thighs then his soft lips wrapping around the sensitive nub.

Your body rolls upward to meet his mouth. This causes Hawks to resume the involuntary purring from earlier. Feeling the vibrations from it nearly sends you over the edge. His speed gradually increases as you reach your climax.

“Hawks!” You scream out his name as you come, tightening your thighs around his face.

He looks up at you, your slick glistening all over the lower half of his face. A wide grin showing sharp canines spreads across his face.

“That was.. orgasm?” He asked, massaging your thighs.

“Yes. Oh fuck yes it was...” you pant.

Hawks licks his lips proudly then pounces on top of you enveloping you in a strong embrace. You bury your hands in his hair and giggle as he peppers your neck with kisses.

You gently grind your thigh into his his crotch eliciting an animalistic growl.

“When a human female orgasms,” you purr into his ear, “it means her body is ready to take the male,” another slow grind into his bulge, “inside her...”

This sent Hawks completely over the edge. His pants were off with lightning speed and you felt the head of his swollen member at your entrance. His wings flex out again in another impressive display. As he slowly enters you, his wings draped over your bodies forming a cocoon of crimson feathers.

You writhe and moan as he plunges into you, inch by delicious inch. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him into you. This awakens something in Hawks. He growls and plunges into you.

As he ruts into you mercilessly, you feel sharp canines begin to bite into your shoulder. The mixture of pleasure and pain causes you to cry out.

“OH FUCK, Hawks... yes!” You scream, clawing into his shoulders.

This causes him to bite hard enough to draw blood and his pace quickens. Without thinking, your hands trail inward to pet the downy feathers at the base of his wings. This set Hawks over the edge.

Throwing his head back, he growls and you notice a trickle of blood dripping down his chin. You take it as a good sign and begin massaging the base of his wings. A shudder runs through his body and his eyes roll back into his head.

Feathers trembling, Hawks cries out as he releases inside of you. Your hips roll into his as you ride the wave of your second orgasm. Your walls clamping around his cock causes him to whimper and sink into your chest.

Once you both even out your breath, you wrap your arms tenderly around his waist and massage his muscles.

“So...” you pant looking into Hawk’s golden gaze, “ your wings?”

He turns red and grins sheepishly.

“A Harpy’s pleasure point.” he whispers, gently touching his lips to yours. You realize this it the first time you actually kissed him and close your eyes relishing his velvety, plump lips.

“Mmm...” he hums before breaking the kiss, “Y/N... you are the most...” he stops to run his tongue along your lower lip, “delicious creature...”

Your smile widens as you kiss him again. This time, your mouths part and tongues touch gently.

“Hawks, you’re amazing,” you whisper, relishing the taste of him lingering on your lips.

Hawks nuzzles back into the crook of your neck and resumes his hypnotic purring.

“My... savior...” he breathes. Your hand strokes his golden locks as you feel him drift off to sleep.

A smile lingers on your lips as you drift into sleep under a canopy of crimson feathers

#hawks x reader #hawks smut #hawks #hawks bnha #bnha smut #bnha au #no quirks au #jade writes smut

[angsty-omi]

pull the trigger.

CEO!Akaashi x Agent!Reader

synopsis: You were assigned to kill one of the richest businessmen in Japan, Akaashi Keiji. How? by getting close to him. By pretending to be an innocent, naive little girl. By pretending you actually enjoy his company. By pretending that you actually loved him. The plan was simple enough, and if you were successful, you’d be rich enough to retire for yourself and your future grandchildren. So, what happens when you couldn’t pull the trigger? Even worse, why didn’t he flinch?

“Agent Y/N, you’ve been assigned.” your boss notified.

It’s been so long since you had been assigned. After you accidentally blew up the evidence last mission, your boss hasn’t been to keen depending on you. This was music to your ears, so what did you do? Jumped gleefully and instinctively squeezed your boss. You realized what you were doing and how unprofessional it was, so you slowly latched off of her. Your boss just coughed awkwardly before she began, “This assignment is a big one, meaning there must be no flaws to this plan. One mistake and you’re done for, literally.” ending with a slit-throat gesture. You were confident in your skills, and aside from that one mission, everyone depended on you. No wonder why your boss came to you for this. You glad-fully shook her hand, in which expressed your disparity for a new high.

To start, you had to change your look a bit. See, you researched Akaashi Keiji, from his likes and dislikes to his convictions. Every conviction he got away with money. Dirty bastard. Every single job left you guilt-less because you knew these people were corrupt and somehow reasoned that your job was ethical. First, you started with a trim. Your split ends would’ve definitely caught the eyes of the girls from his front desk. Then, you used the budget money for this mission to buy luxury items. From Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, was this really for the mission or for yourself? No one really knows. Finally, and most importantly, you had to snatch a job as his personal assistant. The organization already falsified documents for you. After today, you go by ‘Akiyama Ami.’ As you walked out of your office, your coworkers couldn’t even recognize you. One even put a gun to your head, and having to state who you are.

You smirked, “Matsuda, I am deeply saddened if this is how you treat your advisor,” whispering in his ear. 

“Senior Y-Y/N?,” he stuttered, putting his gun away immediately. You grabbed his arm and forcefully pushing it to his back, “please make sure you never make that mistake again,” you stated. 

“Y/N, leave him alone already,” a voice joked.

You knew that voice. It was your long time partner, Atsumu. From when you both were rookies, you guys worked cases together quite often. Never more than that. 

“Atsumu, this is my first case without you... aren’t you going to miss me?” you pouted. 

“Don’t give me that look, idiot. Be safe out there okay? I can’t always save your ass like from that time you exploded our only evidence.” he shook his head in disappointment.

You punched his shoulder, and he ‘over-dramatically’ ached in pain. “I’ll be fine, Atsumu. Plus our person literally looks like a prissy privileged boy, doesn’t he?” you pulled up Akaashi’s Business Insider profile. For the next ten minutes, you guys were bullying the hell out of him. Until finally, you had to go. Your cab was already ready for you, so you hugged Atsumu goodbye. Platonically, you always thought you’d get married to him. He was handsome, strong, and witty. And he knew your job situation, so you never would have to feel judgement from him. 

From the cab ride, you got to fly in a private jet. There, was your boss, two intelligent analysis, and a linguist. This was your team, and who’d you tell your intel to. The whole flight consisted of breaking down the plan, even down to what time you have to walk in the elevator. The destination was in Tokyo, where Akaashi’s main headquarters lived. 

“I’ve made an appointment for your job interview,” One of them said.

“Here’s your resume,” The other said.

As you skimmed through, you spit your drink.

“I can speak more than five languages?!” your eyes widened.

“壊れた日本語で話せます” you quoted.

“What does that mean?” your boss asked looking at you surprisingly.

“It means I can only speak broken Japanese,” you nervously scratched your head.

“It wouldn’t matter, the job application is asking for english-speakers” the linguist stated.

As the plane started to screech, due to the wheels contact with concrete, you knew it was your time to shine. You practiced all your lines during the flight, so confidence soared through your body. On sight, there was a limo waiting for you. You waved goodbye to your team, and entered the lanky vehicle. 

The condominium the organization gave you was luxurious, their budget must’ve been high-grade. Broad birched doors, huge window panels that let in a lot of natural light, and a master bedroom. Your first move was to jump on the feather-light bed. Your feet sunk deep into the mattress every hop. Leaving you tired, you went straight to sleep. 

Today was your job interview. Even though everything was fake, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. If you didn’t go down the agency path, is this what you would’ve felt as a normal person? While the coffee was brewing, you decided to look at your grand closet, not knowing what to wear. There was already an outfit set out for you. With it, there was a note:

Good luck! ;) -Atsumu

As you read it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The outfit he picked wasn’t even that bad. It was an emerald green two-piece, with a pale blouse underneath. 

“Not so bad,” you thought, while looking at yourself in the mirror. 

There, stood the building where the infamous person lived worked. Heels tapping the black marble, you stood in front of the front desk. The girls that worked there looked roughly young, around their early 20s. As they stared at you up and down, you could feel their judgement. 

“Welcome to Fukurodani Headquarters, how may we help you?” One girl asked.

“Hi, I’m Akiyama Ami, I’m actually applying for the personal assistant job. Where could I meet my interviewer?” You warmly asked.

The girls bursted into laughter. What was so funny? Did you miss out on the joke?

“Excuse us, its just... that’s one way to call Akaashi Keiji,” 

“Akaashi Keiji... is the interviewer? That’s even more stressful than a random person. It does make sense though, as a personal assistant there should be a close relationship,” you sighed.

“Close relationship? Please, you’ll be lucky if you can even give him coffee. Get in line.” The front desk scoffed in agreement with each other. 

“That’s enough,” a voice commanded.

“Are you Akiyama Aki? I’m ready for you.” 

Your face went pale. As you slowly turned around, there he was. The man himself, Akaashi Keiji. As an agent, you’ve went through strenuous training, so from the outside you looked relaxed as ever, but on the inside the butterflies in your stomach started awakening. He was a very attractive man after all.

“You must be Mr. Akaashi, let’s begin!” you enthusiastically smiled, while following him into his office. 

“So Akiyama, tell me about yourself?” Akaashi read off a list.

“Well I was born in the states, but my parents are foreign. They enforced me to take a lot of language classes, hence why I know quite a lot.” You were dying inside. It was a half-true statement though, you were from the states and your parents are foreign.

“It says you speak French, Aimez-vous boire l'eau des toilettes?” He smirked. 

You had no idea what he just said. The silence was deafening, so you just laughed it off. You’ve been told your laugh is very contagious, so you used that to your benefit. Your laughter increased, his did too. 

After you both calmed down, he continued with his next question, “Out of all of the candidates, why should I hire you?”

“Well I guess my stats match up with everyone else, but what’s not on the textbook is my characteristics. I am dependable, calm, and honestly easy to work with. I will do my best to help you any way I can, and keep your stress levels at ease.” You smiled with confidence. 

“Any way huh?” Akaashi whispered to himself. You acted like you didn’t hear his whisper. As an agent it was also one of your many talents to keep an ear out for anything. 

“Akiyama, congratulations! you’ve gotten the job.” Akaashi put his hand out.

“R-r-really? That was only two questions” you tilted your head to the side. You could feel his glare as a response.

“Well, thank you anyways! My parents will be pleased.” you gushed as you shook his calloused hands. Parents? Please, more like your boss. You swore you could hear a ‘cha-ching’ sound effect in your head.

Over the next couple of months, you’ve been working under Akaashi. If he was staying up til’ 2 AM at the office, so were you. Continuously brewing coffee, while also printing papers, and keeping him company. 

However, one day the routine changed. Prior to this day, your boss had just kept you up for the next order, so you were extremely tired. During the 2 AM session, your eyes slowly started to drift off, feeling the wave of drowsiness pound into your head. Akaashi walked into your office and was going to ask you for copies, until he saw you sleeping head down on your desk. At first, he was going to viciously shake you awake, but seeing your dainty face in the moonlight he couldn’t bring himself to. This was the first time he saw you vulnerable. Typically, when he would ask if you were tired, you would just shake it off with a bright smile. However, he knew. He could tell that you were pushing for him. So, he draped over his blazer around you, in hopes to insulate some warmth and went back to his office. Minutes later, you jerked yourself awake. You felt a strange piece of clothing around you, so you pinched at it while analyzing. Does it look like a weapon? No. Does it have any toxins? No. Could this harm you in any way, shape, or form? It honestly just looked like a plain blazer you thought. As you checked the shoulder pocket, there was an ID. 

“Akaashi’s jacket huh?” you said to yourself, not even noticing the smile that crept up on your face. As soon as you caught yourself, you immediately slapped your face. Oh no. Quickly, you sent a picture of the ID, so that the agency can create a replica for future secret documents and shoved it back inside. 

Knocking at the entrance to his office, he looked up at you with bagged eyes. His sleepiness radiated off of him, so you did what you promised on the first day-- relieve his stress levels. You pulled down the shutters of his clear office so no one could look in. In addition, setting up the couch to where there was a pull up bed under it.

“Miss Akiyama, if you’re trying to seduce me you could’ve just said so,” He flirtatiously grinned. You rolled your eyes in response, and grabbed him to the bed.

“I like where this is going, Ami, I didn’t think you were so bold.”

“Just shut up and get some rest, I’ll appoint some things out so your projects aren’t due.”

As he opened his mouth, you anticipated that he was for sure going to deny. However, no words came out of his mouth, instead he grabbed your wrists and pulled you onto the bed with him. 

“I’ll accept, on the conditions that you, too get some rest.”

Too tired to argue, you complied. As you both fell asleep, with his arms wrapped around you.

a/n: i was planning on making this a one shot but i feel like this might be a multiple part-er(?)

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #hq akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff

[poptod]

A Taste of What You Paid For (Rogerina x Reader)

Description: Quiet doesn’t mean submissive and smart doesn’t mean inept outside school.

Notes: here’s one of the fics i never published on liz taylor cause it was a one shot! there’s a bit of a frisky scene at the end but its fine everything is fine. gender neutral WC: 1.7k

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"I told you, we don't need a damn petsitter!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady," her mother chided harshly, her words curt on a silver tongue.

You watched on with an inner sense of looming despair, one that always popped up in your head whenever people fought in front of you. Especially when it came to family.

The Taylor family was popular simply on the reputation of their youngest daughter, Elizabeth. She was one of those girls who was insanely pretty and knew it perfectly well, using it to her advantage in every situation she could. You couldn't blame her––if you were pretty like that, you'd probably use it that way too.

That being said, your very faint school-connection to Liz in no way aided you in understanding her mother, who had employed you for the weekend. Apparently she and her husband had some sort of trip to make into London, and coming back home to sleep was more expensive than simply paying someone to take care of their cat and bird. For some reason they didn't trust Liz with that job, and you didn't care to ask why, considering the two of them were still arguing with one another.

You pursed your lips as you continued to watch with wide eyes. How long was this going to continue?

"And you had to get them?!" Liz yelled, gesturing rather violently in your direction. You flinched back instinctively.

"What's wrong with (Y/N)? Are they some sort of kleptomaniac or something? Your teachers certainly seem to like them, much more than they like you at least," her mother bit back.

Ouch. That was low. You just had good grades. It had nothing to do with behavior.

"Um, Mrs. Taylor? I have to get home soon," you interrupted quietly, ever hesitant to speak up. Both women turned to you as though in sudden realization you were still standing there.

"Of course, dear. I'm sorry.. um, you can come by Friday afternoon, and after that just once or twice a day," she said, pausing before she rooted through her purse, pulling out her wallet. From that she handed you a couple pounds, to which you thanked her and bowed your head slightly.

"Thank you. I'll, um, see you later then," you said, waving a shy good-bye to both of them before bolting out the door.

What a fucking disaster, you thought to yourself bitterly, your face screwed into a frown. Instantly the chill of fall hit you, the disappearance of the sun marking a time where your hands were best kept huddled in your pockets. The backpack on your shoulders was the only real sense of insulation you had.

Your home was a decent walk away, enough that you probably should've found a bus or cab, but the only money in your pocket was preemptive payment for petsitting you hadn't yet done. Besides, most of the busses were stocked full with workers heading home.

By the time you reached home your boot-clad feet were aching, the hard soles in your heels throbbing. Fortunately enough it was a feeling you were used to, and sleep was not hard to find when you collapsed in bed after the long day.

Pepper, the Taylor's white cat, was a friendly fellow who enjoyed a good drink. From your glass. And only your glass. No matter how you filled up his water bowl or set out glasses for him to drink from, he always returned to the one you had taken a sip out of. Eventually you kept your glass in hand, keeping it there even as you filled his bowl with food, a single kitchen lamp lighting your work.

Traditionally, your Friday nights were spent getting lost in the woods, but every now and then you needed to make some extra cash. That was precisely the reason you took up this little job here––not because you wanted to see Liz.

Not because she was really nice to look at and had a rose perfume.

No.

The creaking and slamming of a door startled you from pouring wet food into the tin bowl, making a drop of the juice land on the counter. You winced internally at the fishy smell that invaded your senses.

"The fuck – oh. You," she said from behind you. You turned to her, noting with interest the way she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Evening," you said with a small wave.

"How's – how's the cat," she asked, a slight slur taking over her tongue as she stumbled towards you. The closer she got the more you could smell her––the perfume, the shampoo, the alcohol reeking off her mouth and clothes.

"He'll be coming along soon," you said, knowing that once he smelled the food he'd come running.

"Mm. How long have you been here?"

"In your house?"

"Mhm,” she nodded.

"Got here just a bit ago. Had to refill your cat fountain," you said. They had bought a special, indoor fountain for their cat, since he had trouble drinking. Obviously.

"My mother," Liz grumbled, setting her elbows on the counter as her shoulders went up to her ears. Blonde locks curled around her cheeks, accentuating the soft blush beneath her skin. "She thinks I can't take care of anything beside myself. That is not true."

You can't take care of yourself, either, was the first thing to come to mind, but instead you said, "why does she think that?"

"I drink too much for her liking," Liz said, sighing as she dropped her head to rest on the cool, marble countertop.

"That's alright," you said, ever so slightly distracted by finding the recycling, "I smoke too much for my mother's liking."

Liz giggled, the high melody filling the mostly-silent room. You couldn't help but grin yourself, though you turned away so she couldn't see, embarrassed of your own delight.

The moment you set the food bowl back in its' spot, Pepper came tumbling down the stairs, his puffy tail a straight line behind him.

"How long are you going to stay here?" Liz asked, almost whined, as she drunkenly spun herself around to lean her back against the counter, hooded eyes following you intently.

"A little bit longer. I have to clean your birdcage," you said as you left Pepper to find the bird. You glanced around the corner, into the living and dining rooms. "And, um... where is that? Exactly?"

"Up in my room," she said, "since Pepper won't leave her alone."

"Oh," you said softly as images ran rampant through your head.

You weren't particularly infatuated with Liz, but seeing her room would certainly be interesting, considering the amount of things you'd heard about her. Either way it would be you and her alone in a much smaller room.

For ease you pulled the trash can up the stairs with you, lugging it into her room to dispose of the birdcage floor. She led the way for you, though offered no help, not that you expected her to. While you fiddled with the cage lock, she sat on her bed with feet on the floor, one leg atop the other as she watched you in interest.

Her eyes on your neck proved to be a strong source of stress for you. How delightful––blushing from just a gaze. Liz, in her drunken stupor, didn't seem to realize just how giddy that made you.

A few minutes later you were setting out new hay and newspaper for the floor of the cage, a slight smile occurring to you whenever the bird chirped. You had yet to know the name, but she seemed nice. Her black feathers were a stark difference to Pepper's white coat.

"(Y/N)?" You heard from behind you, her voice soft and high, lulling you away from the task at hand.

"Yes?"

"Could you come here?"

You paused, taking a moment to process her request. After a moment you brushed your hands off, stepping away from the cage to approach her. As before, she was sitting on her bed with her feet in front of her, one leg resting atop the other. Long legs in tall, black boots led up to her hips and waist, where small, flared shorts sat with a belt tight around the jean loops. With her puffy button down leading to her small waist, she was an image so hot it casted blushing heat upon your face.

You tried not to let it show.

She beckoned you closer still, and after another moment's thought you obeyed. As you did so she shifted, placing her legs on either side of your standing ones, with her eyes set dead upon yours.

"Do you remember me? From our classes," she asked softly, craning her neck to look up at you.

"Certainly. Literature and anatomy."

"Mmm," she hummed with a smile, nodding. "I love watching you give presentations in English."

"Really?" You chuckled. "Why?"

"You've got a lot of passion," she said, and the tips of her fingers brushed against yours. You froze up at the sensation, but she only continued with, "I like that."

"I just like overanalyzing stories."

"And you're good at it!"

"Well, thank you, but... I'm sure that's not the reason why you asked for my attention," you said, smiling slyly. Her bravado fell as she bit her bottom lip.

"Maybe not," she murmured, and though her drunken cheeks reddened further, she held her eye contact with you.

Before either of you could speak, you leant quickly down and pressed your lips against hers. She inhaled sharply, but did not move, which you took as a sign to gently move, kneeling before her for ease. Despite being wedged between her legs with her thighs squeezing your middle, going further than this kiss didn't occur to you. Instead you remained enraptured with the feel of her moving against you, her hand cradling your jaw as she pulled you nearer, her intoxicating heat circling your head.

She moved to keep you even closer, attempting to use her legs to pull you on top of her. You hummed––though didn't break your kiss––as you tried to force yourself to move away. She was drunk, but you knew if you said anything about it she’d still try to sleep with you anyway.

"No," you said when at last you could manage to part. The abandoned look in her face had your stomach twisting. You kept an even tone as you continued. "I've got to get home. I finished my job, didn't I?"

"Oh, you tease," she hissed as she reclaimed her pride, dragging you in by your tie to kiss you again. You allowed it for a few seconds more, playfully tugging at her clothes before you stood, straightening yourself out.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" You said, as always remembering your upcoming tasks.

"That's what we're paying you for."

"Got it," you said with a wink, slinging yourself out by the doorframe.

#rogerina x reader #rogerina #roger taylor #queen band #roger taylor x reader

[98prilla]

Lost

AO3

...

Patton was lost. He was lost, and scared, and alone, and cold. It was snowing, out, and he didn’t have his coat, his gloves, his hat. He was lost alone in the woods.

 He shivered harder, at that thought, tears slipping down his face as he stumbled over a tree root, too slow to catch himself, as he fell over into the snow. It quickly soaked through his shirt, his pants. He realized he didn’t have his shoes on at all, which might explain why he was finding it so hard to move, to keep moving.

 He didn’t know why, he needed to keep moving, he just knew that he had to. That’s what mama had said. She’d told him to run, to keep moving, to get as far away as he could, and to not look back, no matter what.

 He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew it was bad. Mama had rushed him out the door, she’d been crying, she’d hugged him and told him she loved him. He’d heard shouting, heard screaming, smelled smoke, but his mom hadn’t let him see, ushering him into the woods outside the back door with the instructions to flee.

 And now he was lost, alone, scared, fallen in the snow, in the woods, all alone, with no idea of how to get home, with the sinking feeling that home wouldn’t be there, even if he somehow managed to find his way back.

He started sobbing. He couldn’t help it. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father, he wanted to be home, sitting in front of the fire, mama humming a soft song to lull him to sleep as she knitted, papa coming in from chopping wood, scooping him up and spinning around until he was dizzy and giggling, he wanted to be back in their cozy little house on the edge of the village, on the edge of the woods, curled up and warm and happy.

 But mama had told him to keep moving, keep going, so he forced himself back to his feet, though they were numb, and his legs were hard to move, and his breath was cold, his chest tight, but he forced it all to work, somehow, and he kept trudging forwards.  

…

He finally fell, shaking and shivering, so cold he couldn’t even feel it anymore, against the base of a huge tree, if he were more aware, he’d marvel at the size, but his head felt weird and fuzzy, and the world felt distant and he felt so, so small.

 He curled tight, not caring about the snow seeping through his clothing, the ice crystals forming against his skin, the snow already starting to pile atop him as it fell. He could feel his tears freezing against his face, could feel the numbness creeping through him, knew that was bad, that he shouldn’t stop moving, but he didn’t care. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. How bad could that be? Mama always tucked him in for naps, when he was sleepy at home. Maybe if he just thought of the snow as a blanket, he could sleep for a little bit, and keep walking later. That sounded nice.

 The cold wasn’t feeling so cold anymore, either. He was starting to feel almost cozily warm, almost like he was curled back up at the fireplace. Almost like he was snuggled against mama, under his favorite blanket, listening to her stories. That was nice. He missed her.

 “mama…” He whimpered softly, curling tighter against the sobs wracking his small frame.

 “what in the name of gaia…” He hadn’t noticed the person approaching. Hadn’t heard the footsteps, but at the voice, he managed to blearily open his eyes, though his vision was blurry and clouded, specks of ice sticking to his lashes, coating his lids. He gasped and drew back, bumping against the bark of the tree, in the face of the being before him.

 They looked like a large owl. They had the scaly legs and talons of a raptor, but a human torso and face, though instead of hair, he had dark, tawny feathers, small white ones outlining his widow’s peak and tracing his hairline. And instead of a mouth and nose, he had a dark black beak. He could see tawny wings stretching out behind the being, speckled lightly with black, though the being had human arms as well. A spirit, of some kind, a spirit of the forest. A spirit of death, according to the legends.

 “P-please… please d-don’t h-urt me….” He stuttered out, breath heaving and shaking, the cold scorching his lungs, fear making his heart hammer in his chest, his tongue feel like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The being crouched before him, and he shook, closing his eyes. He heard the figure make a soft cooing noise, and held his breath.

 “It’s alright, nestling. I do not mean to cause you any harm. You must have traveled a long time, to get this far and deep into the forest.” The spirit’s voice was low and soft, steady and sure, and he found himself nodding.

 “y-yeah. Mama s-said… mama said to r-run. T-to k-keep running. S-so I d-did. But I don’t know my way b-back and… and I think something bad happened. S-something really, really bad. And I’m scared-“ He broke off, voice wavering as it fell into a sob that tore at his throat, and he heard the spirit make another sound, this one sounding like a soft clack from his beak, as if unsure what to do. “I’m scared that something really, really bad h-happened to h-home.” He finished, swiping at his eyes, though his hands were clumsy and stiff.

 “You did a good job, listening to her. It sounds like she is very brave, and very smart, and so are you, to have kept going this long.” The spirit hesitated again, before he heard him shifting, settling down onto the forest floor, peeking his eyes open, he saw him a good foot or so away, dark eyes speckled with gold and silver looking at him carefully. “My name is Logan. May I ask what yours is, little one?”

 “P-patton. I’m s-seven.” He answered, shivering once more, feeling his eyes slip closed despite himself.

 “Patton. You’ve been out here a long time, without any proper protection from the cold. I would like to take you back to my nest, to get you warmed up and safe. After that we can try and find your home. Is that alright?” His mind played over the thousand stories his mother had told him, of spirits whisking away children, never to be seen again, of fae swapping them out for changelings in the middle of the night, of will-o-the-wisps leading travelers astray, only to get them so turned around and lost they died in the woods.

 But… but Logan seemed nice. And he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

 “Y-you pr-omise?” He asked, head drooping, unable to keep it upright as he felt himself losing hold of awareness, that warm tingling back in his limbs.

 “I promise.” He felt arms scoop him up, and he gasped, because they were so hot! So very, very hot, after so long in the snow and the wet and the ice, and he nearly cried, at how nice it felt, curling tight against Logan, feeling soft downy feathers through the thin flowing fabric that covered his torso, nuzzling against them with a happy little sigh.

 “I’m going to fly now, all right? It might feel a little strange, but I promise you’re perfectly safe. I’ve got you.” Patton didn’t respond, and Logan panicked, looking down at the now unconscious child in his arms. “Patton. Patton, can you hear me?” A small stirring of his limbs, but not enough, no awareness, and the poor thing’s lips were blue, his face so pale, his breath so slow and laboured. Hypothermia, obviously.

 The best thing he could do was get back to the roost as quickly as possible, and start slowly warming him up. He just had to hold on long enough to make it back, and the wind of the flight would not help in preserving the little warmth Patton had left.

 He quickly stripped off his shirt, wrapping the billowy fabric softly but firmly around Patton, holding the boy close to his chest, shielding him as much as he could with his arms, hoping the soft, fluffy downy feathers that lightly covered his chest would be enough to insulate him until they got home.

 “It’s all right, Patton. I’ve got you.” One last adjustment, and he leapt off the ground, his powerful wings flapping hard to gain near vertical altitude, the climb much easier once he cleared the treetops and could spiral upwards, soaring high above the woods, towards home.

 …

 He alit on the edge of the cliff, glancing down at the child in his arms. His heat beat was slow and weak, his breath sporadic and shallow, and he cursed, passing through the illusory wall that led into his aerie.  

 It was a large cavern, but it never got cold, thanks to his influence. The ceiling sparkled with shining moonstones, and a large fireplace was carved into one wall of the space. He had a perch in one corner, along with a soft pile of furs, a desk against the wall. The real treasure was the books, the shelves lined and lined with books. He scoured the world for them, collecting them, fascinated by these testaments to human creativity and ingenuity, though a fair share of them were his own journals and scientific notations.

 “Logan! Took you long enough, I’ve been waiting for ages!” He jumped at the voice, before ruffling his feathers, annoyance coursing through him as he glanced at the fire spirit, who currently had taken the form of a shimmering, scarlet dragon. Then he realized his luck, that Roman was here, a being with the power of fire, of warmth.

 “Here. You need to warm him up, slowly. His core temperature is far too low, and a sudden change could do more harm than good. Make sure to rub his fingers and toes, to get circulation back into them, those are the areas that are most likely to succumb to hypothermia.” He explained quickly, Roman instantly shifting into a more human form as Logan placed the bundle in his arms, before hopping off across the space, to his herb storage.

 It took Roman a moment, to realize what exactly he was holding. The little thing was bundled up tight in Logan’s shirt, but when he pulled it down his heart nearly stopped.

 “Body heat is the best! You should take that off of him, it’s only hindering progress at this point!” Logan called, rummaging through his cupboards. Still in shock, Roman did as he was told, inhaling sharply.

 A child. A human child.

 “What… how… Logan!” He screeched, stilling as the child shifted slightly in his arms, curling closer to him, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Oh Gaia, the little guy was adorable, and he made sure his heat was softly surrounding him, slowly warming him up as he absently rubbed at his hands. “What are you doing with a human child!?” He hissed, Logan coming back with bandages and a soothing cream, that he started gently rubbing into the boy’s skin, instructing Roman to sit down with him, as he started rubbing his arms and legs, to get circulation going once more.

 “I felt a call in my territory and found him all alone and more than half frozen. His village was attacked and ransacked, his mother managed to sneak him into the woods before the raiders reached their home and told him to run. I couldn’t just leave him there, Roman.” Roman sighed, brushing back the kid’s curly chestnut hair, noting some color was starting to come back to his face.

 “No. no, I suppose you couldn’t. Is there any chance…” He trailed off at the shake of Logan’s head, dark eyes a bit clouded, as he glanced up at Roman.

 “They’re gone. No survivors, except him, I suppose. I… I don’t know, how I’m going to be able to tell him.” Logan hissed as he got to Patton’s feet, wincing at the state of them.

 The bottoms were completely torn and bloodied, the toes themselves turned a dark, angry purple, and he took a deep breath, knowing those would be terribly bruised and incredibly painful, if they came back from their exposure. He started slowly massaging warmth back into them, looking up at a soft cry from Patton, who’s eyes were fluttering uneasily, holding his breath as they opened.

 “Patton. It is all right. Do you remember me?” He asked softly, those light blues locking onto him immediately.

 “Lo-logan.” He whispered, and Logan nodded, smiling.

 “Yes. Very good, Patton. We’re at my home, right now. We’re getting you warmed up, all right? My friend Roman is helping.”

 “Hello there, little prince. Logan has been telling me just how brave you must be, to make it so far in the woods by yourself.” Roman murmured, once again brushing a hand through the child’s hair, his eyes already drifting shut.

 “H-hurts. I h-hurt.” Patton wheezed out, tears dripping down his face, and Roman let out a low breath, stroking them away with his thumb.

 “I know, little prince. But that’s a good thing, alright? That means your body is waking up from it’s nap in the cold. It means you’re going to be okay.” Patton was trembling, but he nodded.

 “O-ok.”

 “Patton. This is important. Can you wiggle your toes for me? It might hurt, but it’s very important.” Patton bit his lip, focusing hard, whimpering as more tears fell, but after a long moment, all ten of his toes curled and uncurled.

 “Good, that was very, very good, Patton. Thank you, so much.” Logan encouraged, squeezing the kid’s hand once, though he had already slipped back into unconsciousness. Carefully, he finished loosely bandaging Patton’s feet, sweating against the low level heat emenating from Roman, as he scooped Patton back into his arms, nestling him close against his down, settling so Roman was pressed against his side, warmth encasing the nestling.

 He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Patton. Every inhale and exhale filled him with relief, as they became longer and steadier, every solid thump of his heart reassuring him, every small movement of his eyes behind their lids making him wonder what he was dreaming of, hoping it was pleasant.

 “Logan?” Roman asked, shaking him out of his thoughts, gaze meeting the concerned eyes of his friend. He let out a shaky breath, shaking his head.

 “He’s so… small, Roman. So fragile. What am I to do with him?”

 “well… you could always keep him.” Roman suggested, voice unusually even. Logan let out a sharp sqwuak, staring at Roman.

 “Roman. I cannot simply keep a child. He is human, firstly. Secondly… me!? Raising a nestling!? I don’t know the first thing about caring for one, and this is hardly a safe place for one so little and unable to fly! He… I can’t possibly… what… Roman!” He sputtered, quieting instantly as Patton curled tighter in his arms, making a small whine, tiny hand clenching his feathers. He can feel his heart rate speeding and breath gasping. A nightmare.

 Instantly, he’s fussing over the child, stroking his hair, churring softly, a deep rumble in his chest that soothes nestlings, and seems to work just as well on the human, as he settles moments later, though his grip doesn’t loosen.

 “not a word.” He threatens, feeling Roman's smirk without having to look up, unable to look away from Patton’s soft, sleeping face. He takes a deep breath. “he needs humans, Roman. He needs his own kind. I can find a good family for him, a good home. Somewhere stable, that can provide a safe, structured life for him. I cannot in good conscience simply keep him, Roman, no matter my own feelings towards the matter.” He looked up at Roman's hand on his shoulder, his face serious for once.

 “I know you’ll do what’s best, Logan. Just… consider that maybe that means staying with you. Ok?” He nodded, ruffling his feathers.

 “I will consider it, Roman.” A brief silence passed by, both lost in their own thoughts, before Logan rested his hand against Patton's forehead.”

 “He's sufficiently warmed. Would you mind, grabbing some of the furs?”

 “Of course, Lo.” Roman swept over, picking out the softest one, carefully wrapping Patton in it, holding the boy in his arms for a moment, before passing him back to Logan. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. Try not to fret yourself to death, Hoot Hoot.” Roman swept out of the cave before Logan could respond, though his indignant spluttering echoed behind him.

…

Fire.

 Fire and smoke and screams, everything was burning, and it was so hot, he was trapped in the flames.

 He could hear mama calling for him, scared and voice shaky, and he tried to call out, to tell her he was ok, but the smoke choked his lungs, burned his throat, made his eyes water as the flames grew higher. He heard her voice fading, and he tried to chase it, tried to barrel around the flames, screeching as his pants caught aflame for a moment, before  he patted them out, trying to run, though every breath choked him further, and he couldn’t breath, and the flames were closing in and the roof was creaking, and he looked up in time to see a fiery orange beam creak and snap, popping with embers, crashing down, down atop him, and he screamed.

…

“Hush, little one. I have you, little one, I have you.” He was crying, he realized, crying and sobbing, and as he realized that his scream choked off into a gasping, wheezing inhale, the air still burning his lungs despite the lack of smoke.

 “Th-they're gone. They're all g-gone, aren’t they?” he sobbed out, feeling the hesitation in the answer, which only confirmed it, really, as he shook harder, sobs tearing at his throat. He felt the arms pull him closer, rocking him slowly, something soft and warm pressing in from a sides, but it wasn’t hot, like the fire, it wasn’t trapping and enclosing and crushing him, it was nice and safe and good.

 “I’m sorry, Patton. I truly am. It is senseless and cruel and no one should have the right, to take them from you. But they would be so proud, Patton. That’s all they wanted, was for you to keep going, and they fought so that could happen. So you would keep going. And you did. You’ve done so well, little one.” Logan murmurs, heart wrenched in two as Patton shifts in his arms, hugging him around the middle, face buried against his feathers, and he tucks his head against Patton's, nuzzling his cheek, churring once again, letting Patton cry himself out, letting him grieve, acting as a steady, solid presence to let him know he was safe.

 “I m-miss her.” Patton whimpered, and his own breath caught, hugging the nestling tighter, wings wrapping closer.

 “I know. And it won’t ever stop, that missing. But it will get easier.” He replied. “I know of some humans, in the next valley over, that would love to have a child, will take good care of you, keep you safe and loved and protected. You’ll be alright.” He uncurled from around Patton as he felt him shifting against him, those blue eyes peering up at him, a frown on his lips, set in his eyes.

 “Why… why can’t I stay? Am I not… not g-good, enough? Do you not w-want me?” Patton asked, pulling away and looking down, and oh, how his heart was breaking, absolutely shattering, with fondness for this lost child, how had he already gotten so attached?

 “Of course you are, Patton, you’re so good, and incredibly brave and strong and resilient. Of course I want you. But you should be with other humans. It’s dangerous here, for you, there’s so much that could harm you, and I couldn’t stand it if you got injured on my account.” He answered softly, crouching down before Patton, who refused to meet his eyes.

 “But I was with people, and I got hurt, already. And… and I kn-know, you’d keep me safe. Y-you’re good, I can tell. Mama always said I was the best judge of character.

 “Patton-“

 “Please? Please let me stay? I’ll do anything you tell me, I’ll be so good, and quiet, you won’t even know I’m here, I’ll… I’ll…” Logan cut him off, sweeping him into an all encompassing hug, cooing softly, throwing his whole heart into it, feeling Patton bury his head against his shoulder.

 “alright. If you’re sure that’s what you really want, I won’t force you to leave, Patton. But you need to know this. Spending so much time around me, around the magic of nature spirits, is going to change you. Over time, it will make you less and less human, more and more… other. At some point, there will be no going back.” He said seriously, making sure Patton was listening, understanding what he was saying. His lip trembled, but he nodded, sharp determination and hope burning in his blue eyes.

 “ok.” He said seriously, before tilting his head. “Do you think I’ll grow feathers? Could I get wings, like yours?” Logan chuckled, ruffling Patton’s hair.

 “Possibly, with time. Until then, I’ll just have to fly you around. Now, let’s get you off those feet, they’re still healing, and I don’t want you to reopen anything.” Patton sighed, but flopped onto the ground, pulling a fur around him, slightly dejected. He clearly wanted to explore, bubbling with energy, and Logan smiled. “How about I read for you? Will that make sitting still a little more manageable?” He asked, Patton nodding excitedly. He selected a book from the shelf, one of fairytales, before settling on the floor next to Patton, who immediately snuggled up next to him, pressing against his side, under his wing, as Logan began to read.

 Soon, his eyes were slipping shut, a huge yawn escaping him, and Logan tucked his wing a little tighter as Patton fell asleep, slumping against his side, hands curling into his feathers. Still, Logan continued to read, not wanting to stop, lest nightmares mar the little one’s rest.

 Oh, Roman was going to be so pleased, and not at all surprised, by this turn of events. And he hated to admit it, but he was happy, as well. He knew he would already give anything, for Patton, and he was so excited, to watch him grow. To see what he would grow into. And nothing, nothing would harm his nestling. Not ever again.

...

@fortheloveofjanus

#sanders sides #fantasy au #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sympathetic patton #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman #child patton #fire elemental roman #air spirit logan #protective logan #fatherly logan #patton angst #nightmare #mild panic attack #fire #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #hurt patton #hypothermia

[birdsandspades]

Teenage Dirtbag - Chapter 1

- You and Todoroki were exact opposites. He was clean cut, driven, focused on his future. You were to most a burnout kid, spending your time at the skate park. But opposites attract right? Or was it birds of a feather flock together? Whatever it may be, you would have fun finding out. 

(Soft Todoroki paired with skate kid Y/N.)

Word Count - 1,665

-Not going to lie, I don’t know how to feel about this one. I wrote the chapter rundowns months ago and ended up really wanting to try it out tonight. If this doesn’t do well so be it. I atleast got punk todoroki out of my system. 

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Todoroki looked up at the light peaking through the tree leaves, burnt orange and rusty yellow blurring together as he squinted at the sunrays bleeding through.  

The wind picked up, blowing a few off the lower branches. They glided along the ground, catching on the points of others as they slowed to a stop. 

A crisp crunch sounded under his shoes, crushed footprints trailing behind him as he walked the covered sidewalks of the park. 

It was brisk out, Todoroki pulling the sleeve of his coat over his exposed hands as another gust of wind blew past him. A perfect day for a walk.

It was quiet out, no one in sight as he continued the same loop around the perimeter of the school fence. A lazy afternoon, just cold enough to keep most indoors. 

But not cold enough he thought, the sound of footsteps beating behind him. He turned around, scowling at the approaching group of people. He opened his mouth to protest, quickly turning to pleas as you ran towards him, eyes glued on the group behind you. 

You collided with the boy, teetering backwards as you looked up his padded form. A black wall of insulated coat, deadpanned as he looked between you and the fast approaching girls. 

You frantically looked around the park, eyes fixing on the tree a few steps off the path. You grabbed at the strangers chest, pulling him behind the tree. You gave him a firm shove, holding him against the trunk, his eyes shooting open as you pressed a hand over his mouth. 

You lifted a finger to your lips, pressing against him as the group of girls ran past. 

“Did you see what way she went?” One questioned, the other shaking her head before running ahead.

You waited a moment, your grip on Todoroki easing as the group disappeared down the trail. You took a step back, giving the angry boy an awkward smile. “Close call huh, sorry about that.”

Todoroki pushed past you, moving back to the trail.

“Um, so what's your name?” You ran after the boy, slowing down to match his pace down the sidewalk.

“Todoroki Shoto.” He said rather curtly, eyes fixed ahead of him.

“Todoroki, super sorry about running into you like that. Wrong place, wrong time.” You laughed, rubbing the back of your head. 

He stayed quiet, not sparring you a glance.

“So...do you go to UA?” You pointed to the nearby buildings over the fence, just a stone's throw away.

“Yes.” He was blunt, clearly not one for conversation. Todoroki picked up his pace, trying his best to walk ahead of you.

“No way, I recognize you now! You froze over half the stadium at the sports festival!” You yelled after him, running to catch up.

“Yes.” His favorite one word answer. 

“You're like super powerful, I should have just had you scare off those girls.” You laughed, craning your neck to see his face.

He didn’t laugh, the corners of his mouth forming a perfectly straight line.

“Well, my names L/N F/N!” You offered him a hand as you walked, flashing him a smile.

Todoroki stopped abruptly, turning towards you. “I’m sorry, but I should really be getting back to school. Goodbye.” He gave you a forced smile, waving as he walked the other way.

“Ok, bye!” You shouted, lifting your hand slightly.  

That was the first day you met Todoroki Shoto, the first time you felt it.

----

You had been going to the park everyday for what seemed like weeks, all in hopes of seeing Todoroki one more time. It had been slow, the gradual picking away at your sanity. You thought of him at first late at night, only in the early hours of the morning that were devoted to overthinking. But those thoughts multiplied, and those as well until every second of your day was dedicated to thinking about the two toned boy who could have cared less about meeting you.

He was otherworldly to you, a complete mystery. A top student at UA, a powerful quirk, a dysfunctional family (you did your research.) You wanted to know more about him, to see more. A smile, a laugh, a reaction. Just something to appease the monkey in your brain that was screaming for you to try your hand at another chance meeting. That was the stupid reason you were sat down on this particular bench in the park, folding into yourself as you shivered. It was cold, really fucking cold. The autumn chill was definitely doing it's part this time of year. 

You looked down the path, the same one you walked with Todoroki that day. Your feet planted firmly on your skateboard as you rolled it back and forth underneath you. You had been doing this almost everyday after school, shyly nodding at everyone that passed by. You had hoped that if you saw him here once, he would eventually come back. But that just hadn’t been the case. 

You had seen an abundance of people, one that reminded you of a head of broccoli, another that resembled an angry pomeranian, even a troll doll. But still, never the peppermint hair you were searching for. 

You didn’t know why you were so infatuated with seeing the boy again, he was for the most part a stranger. But you felt a semblance of something deep inside as he walked down the path in front of you. Hands in his pockets as he looked up at the changing leaves. There he was, clad in the same blackened marshmallow coat.

“Todoroki!” You waved your hand at him, catching his attention. You picked up your skateboard, running to catch him.

“Hi!” You smiled, watching as he continued walking. You followed after him, keeping pace as he trudged through the fallen leaves on the sidewalk.

You walked for a bit in silence. To a passerby you would look like too friends, going for a stroll on a Friday evening. But it was far from that, the uncomfortable tension visible in his shoulders.

“What are you doing here? I only ever see UA students at this park.” He was the first to break the silence, speaking so nonchalant it almost threw you off balance.

He was right, it was practically UA’s park, lying just on the border of the notorious hero school. 

“What! Can’t I enjoy a nice walk in the park? Why are you here?” You acted offended, your tone borderline fake. 

“I like to get out of my dorm room after school…” Todoroki pointed towards the buildings on campus, unphased by your panicky question.

“You live on campus?” You had heard about them moving the students into the dorms, but that was only a few days ago. Had they really moved that fast?

“Yeah, that one. I live on the top floor.” He pointed again, singling in on his window. You looked harmless enough, what was the worst that could happen by answering your prying questions.

“Ahh,...cool.” You shuffled along beside him. Silence falling between the two of you again. 

“I’ve never seen you before.” Todoroki looked your way, the same stoic look on his face as before. He seemed to have a knack for breaking the ice. 

“Oh um, I don’t go to UA if that's what you're asking. I go to a smaller school on the other side of the city.” You shoved your hands in your pocket, looking at the top of the school building.

“Are you quirkless?” Todoroki stopped, something tinting his features. Was it sadness, confusion, annoyance. You couldn’t quite tell as he looked over you.

“Oh no, I have a quirk! I just didn’t make it into a good school. I failed most of the entrance exams, probably because I don’t study.” You laughed, shrugging awkwardly.

“You should study.” Todoroki frowned, walking off again.

“I know that! I just don’t really like to…” You trailed off as he spoke.

“You and I are very different in the way.” He muddled his words, shrinking into his coat as the wind picked up.

“What are you carrying?” He nodded his head towards the board in your hands, eyeing the bright designs painted on the wood. 

“My skateboard?” You lifted it into view, giving him a confused look.

“Oh.” His curious eyes told you this was the first time he had seen something like that in person. 

“Do you know how to ride one?” You questioned, giving him an amused smile.

“No.” He shook his head, pushing his hands into his plush pockets.

The bell tower chimed as the clock turned to 9:00, Todoroki stopping at the front of the school gates.

“I have a curfew, I should go back to the school now. It was nice seeing you again, take care.” He gave you a brief nod, walking through the school gates. 

“Yeah! It was nice seeing you too! I’ll see you later?” You shouted after him, stopping at the edge of the gate. He had a way of leaving that would leave anyone shell shocked.

“Maybe.” He gave you a brief smile, it quickly disappearing as the gates of the school closed. The tower chiming one last time, the ring echoing throughout the park. You saw it, that momentary flash of happiness. It all seemed to click. 

You had been pining after that smile since the day you saw him almost a month ago. That strange boost of serotonin hitting your brain just right as you thought about it gracing his face. You were drawn to him. He was to you, your complete opposite. You could see that from just your two interactions. But something told you he was cut from the same cloth, that sad look in his eyes pulling at you to dig deeper. You wanted to get to know this boy, make him happy. He deserved it, you just knew it. 

You were going to do it, you were going to see him tonight.

----

Next Chapter

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#mha #mha todoroki #todoroki bnha #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #Todoroki Shōto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki #todoroki imagine #todoroki x you #todoroki shoto fluff #todoroki oneshot #bnha oneshots #bnha shoto todoroki #My Hero #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero imagines #bnha shoto #shoto torodoki #bakugou katsuki #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #ongoing #bnha todoroki #bnha todoroki shoto

[candythemew]

     There he stood. Looming over the makeshift cradle protectively. Inside the altar turned resting place, laid a small skekling. Rustled up and shivering against the red cloth that lay in the altar’s centre. A handcrafted garment insulated with azure feathers that smelt of salt and the sea. SkekZok had found it alongside the small one when he had first found the skekling a few weeks after he had… Well, he’d rather not dwell on what he had done. That was in the past; and he had to do whatever he needed to do to secure his place at the emperor’s left hand. Even if it tore what little was left of his cold black heart asunder.

     The skekling shifted around. Letting out soft cries as it attempted to get comfortable. It hadn’t grown in all its feathers yet so life was just a little bit harder for the mewling infant. It nuzzled it’s face into the feathered cloth, finding comfort in it’s familiar scent. But the cold castle air made the small bundle quiver. SkekZok pulled something out of his sleeve. It was ornate and plush. A blanket perfectly tailored to the skekling’s needs. He had commissioned the Ornamentalist to fashion some fabric into a baby blanket. It would help keep the newborn warm and safe. One of the duties SkekZok had to perform was making sure that the little one’s body temperature was always at a safe level. As well as many other things. He had to check, feed, and monitor the skekling multiple times daily to ensure the small one’s survival. This was the task he had been assigned… the task he had accepted.

     The Ritual Master reached out a clawed hand to place the blanket on the childling. Initially spooked by SkekZok’s scent, the skekling attempted to back away chirping noisily. It could barely crawl and it’s eyes were still fastened tightly shut, so it only fell back into the palm of The Ritual Master. Just as he had planned. He slightly lifted up the babe, swaddling the infant in the thick blanket. Making sure to bring the garment it adored oh so much close to it’s face to ensure it was comfortable. The skekling’s cries diminished as it nuzzled into the feathered cloth. The combination of the warmth that enveloped them, and the feathers that brushed against their cheek lulled them into a deep sleep.

     SkekZok sighed as he looked over the skekling’s sleeping form. It was peaceful. It’s breathing slow and calm like the ebb and flow of a wave. Looking at it rest peacefully almost made him as calm as it was. This was something he hadn’t felt in trine. Soon he found His thoughts wandering back to when he first brought the little one to the castle…

     Many of the Skeksis court questioned SkekZok when he returned to them with a trembling childling in hand. When he was sent away, his task was to persue the traitorous Mariner to get her out of the way of the empire’s plans. So, he was sent away. Being the bearer of the news of SkekSa’s failure and betrayal, as well as one of her closest “friends”. SkekZok was the perfect candidate to pursue her. As well as a smart one due to his knowledge of all the places she may try to hide away. He knew all the little things that made her tick. Although as hard as he looked, he never found her. Far and low, never a trace. Except for one thing… A cry.

     It had turned out that The Mariner had carried a child with someone. He had found her childling in the company of ruthless Sifan mariners. Who SkekZok had claimed were torturing the poor whelp and were about to drown it before he had bravely intervened; Slaughtering them all mercilessly. Taking the small wriggling creature back with him. Suspicion naturally arose when he told his tale. It seemed a bit… Convenient. Had it not have been for his slashed and torn robes and a fresh cut on his cheek left by a sword they would’ve assumed he was bluffing… Maybe he was.

     Everyone could tell the child was SkekSa’s. Her striking appearance was unmistakable on the little creature. But who was the Sire? Whoever it was must be punished.

     The punishment for an unmated pair to produce a skekling was severe. Especially for one to be birthed from a traitor! SkekZok had known this law well. After all, he made it himself as per the emperor’s request so that a very small amount of skeklings would ever be born. He swore that he would gladly deal an appropriate punishment to whoever the father might have been. As soon as they found out whoever that could be. The Ritual Master told the court that He had no idea who the sire was, as he had found it in Gelfling hand. The skekling was also far too young to tell apart any features aside from the ones it’s mother bestowed upon it. But he would find the father, and a fitting punishment would be served! …So he told the court…

     The other Skeksis cackled at the thought of some pathetic peer being mercilessly punished and humiliated for a period of days or even weeks in front of the whole court. Oh what a sight to behold! What exotic punishments would be deployed? Something awful to be sure. A crime on this scale was to be dealt with painfully. But before they all got too ahead of themselves, SkekSo the Emperor slammed his staff on the ground. Directing everyone’s attention back to him. As well as making the newly found skekling cry from the shock.

     “We must not forget what we have here.” The emperor spoke in a mighty tone. “Another life, another mouth to feed! …But also another addition to our legacy.” He continued as he stood up tall.

     “We ARE ETERNAL! And this… childling…” he hissed. Looking it up and down. Flashing a disgusted grimace that soon turned into a wicked smirk crept across his rotten face.

     “Although a bastard— it immortalizes our legacy here!”

     ”The Mariner was one of our finest warriors. Surely her child will follow in her footsteps.” He concluded. His hand elegantly motioning through the air as he spoke.

     “A new light be shall soon shine through our empire through the sins of those who betrayed us! Our glory shall be sung to the end of time and BEYOND!” The Emperor shouted triumphantly!

     The others cheered loudly at the speech SkekSo had given. Chattering incoherently amongst themselves. A few gossiping, Others sending suspicious looks SkekZok’s way. The Ritual Master was cold and cunning. Never caring for another soul other than himself, the law, and the phony cult he had called a religion. To “rescue” a traitor’s childling was extremely out off character. Especially a bastard childling. He had been the one to create the law against them hadn’t he?

     SkekZok The Ritual Master stood tall, making himself known and dignified. The other’s petty gossip did not phase him. He knew where he stood. He was loyal. He puffed out his chest and spoke:

     “My emperor. I am the one who found this skekling. I see that it should only make sense that I should be the one to see to it’s well-being and care.” The Ritual Master stated clearly. The frightened skekling squealing pathetically as it attempted to hide itself amongst the folds of his golden robes.

     “I only see it fit Ritual Master. You were very close to SkekSa after all.” SkekSo remarked with a click of his beak and a twirling toss of his staff.

“But if it shall interfere with any of your duties I will not hesitate to have the sniveling thing taken from your hand and given to the Scientist. SkekTek could always use more… “Volunteers” The Emperor snickered with a large toothy grin as he looked SkekTek’s way.

     SkekZok barely contained the snarl he was about to let out at the emperor— But he bit his lip and accepted the terms through clenched teeth.

     “I shall see to it then My Emperor.” He bowed.

      SkekZok’s attention naturally gravitated to SkekShod the Treasurer. Who had remained silent the entire time that SkekZok had shown the newborn to the court. He stood playing cat’s cradle with some golden thread. Although he may have seemed aloof, in reality he was soaking in all the information he had just received from this meeting intently. Deep in thought, he returned the gaze of The Ritual Master.

     “Come Treasurer, I require your assistance.” SkekZok beckoned to his closest ally. Skekshod lifted his hunched head and nodded. Following close behind as the two made their way into SkekZok’s cathedral.      The tall gold-adorned skeksis led his ally into an old room hidden behind the echoing halls of the chapel. It was once a meditation chamber used by SkekZok to receive visions from Thra, although he quickly abandoned it once the visions wouldn’t tell him he wanted to hear. This would become the newly adopted Skeksis’s room until something more appropriate was constructed. It was a wise choice. Being one of the safest rooms in the holy place. There were no weapons, no bloodstains… Dry and hidden away, with not many remembering its existence. Only adding to the feeling of safety.

     “Skekshod. I want you to hold the skekling as I empty the altar of the water inside. Together we will create a temporary nursery for this little one until it has its own quarters.”

     He passed over the overwhelmed skekling to The Treasurer. The babe still lost and scared, continued to sharply cry. It’s mewling echoing throughout the dimly lit room as Skekshod confusingly tried to carry it properly. Holding the weeping infant upside-down.

     “The one with the power blesses us for caring for his chosen and lost. Remember that as you endure it’s squealing and scratching.” The Ritual Master recited as he prepared a place for the skekling.

     Soon... things were starting to get hazy… Memories and reality blurring until he was brought back to the present… SkekZok quickly shook his head from side to side. Ah. He had been day dreaming of the unum’s events. Had it really been a whole unum? It went by too fast. That didn’t seem right. Although… nothing seemed right anymore. The world was never a simple place and he knew it. And it never would be that wonderful, simple place ever again. Not after what he had done to her… But the brief moments of relief he felt when he would care for this strange childling was all worth it.

     Taking a quick look around the chamber he noticed nobody but a few podling servants lighting candles. Good. As it should be. Once he knew he was all alone and not a sound could be heard; he lowered his large skeletal head down to the altar. Nuzzling the skekling’s soft cheek with the tip of what remained of his snout. He smiled subtly as the baby yawned and stretched. It’s gangly little limbs reaching out to him as he brushed against them. The skekling grabbed at his face with an exhausted peep, but soon grew tired again. Turning to face the opposite direction as it continued to sleep peacefully.

     The Ritual Master slowly removed his head from the cradle with a quiet hoarse chuckle. He smiled as he brushed it’s cheek one more time with his fingertips. Ever so careful as to not cut open it’s tender skin with his talons. He then stood up straight with an unmistakable wheeze as he sighed.

     “There is much I must attend to little one. May the one with the power bless you and keep you.”

     After reciting his blessing, his face returned to its natural scowl as he left the room to attend to the rest of his daily rituals and duties. He looked as if nothing had changed in his life. And everything was the same way it had been for the last 1,000 trine. Good. That’s how it should be. He was just The Ritual Master. Left hand to the Lord of all of Thra. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep his power intact. Not even a little childling that had grasped his heart tightly in its little azure claws. Or at least that’s what he would let the world see.

     “MmmMmMmMmmM…”

…A familiar whimper could be heard echoing within the cathedral.

#This was my first attempt at a fanfic! I hope you enjoyed! #aor #tdc #ageofresistance #skeksis #the dark crystal #thedarkcrystal #the dark crystal: age of resistance #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #SkekZok #SkekToh #SkekSa #SkekSo #SkekShod #Implied ZokSa #Skekling #skeklings #My Art #My Stories

[masquerade-story]

Chapter 5 - Commencing Plan

"Earth has magic too. Alchemy and enchantments. Chemistry and technology. Same things, different names." Crystal spoke slowly as she examined the cloth material in her hands, checking for tears or weak points in the weave.

Grey pumped his fist, a triumphant look on his face. "I knew it! No way that backflipping robot was natural science."

"Science is the study of the world around you. It doesn't cancel out the existence of magic, it just helps to understand its rules better."

"Listen here, little miss know-it-all."

"I don't know it all, just more than you."

"Hey!"

Crystal grinned, finishing her examination without sparing an extra glance for the outraged Grey stomping his foot at her side.

"That's a low bar some days," Rayne said with an exaggerated sigh, then promptly ducked as Grey chucked a pillow at her face.

"Lils!" Grey whined, draping dramatically over his sister's lap, interrupting her own costume examination. "They're bullying me!"

"The truth hurts sometimes dearest," Lillian muttered, much to her twin's dismay. He recoiled away as though she'd flung him, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in distress.

"Betrayal! Mine own blood doth betray!"

"My point," Crystal continued, using a needle and thread to tighten up a bit of beaded tape on a hem that came loose. "Was that when I said magic exists on this world, I mean I don't know what form this world's magic is going to take, so we should be careful until we understand more. It may be familiar, like chemistry and technology, or it could be something more fantastical, like what that Eater pulled on us. Until we know the rules, we shouldn't be reckless."

"What if being reckless is part of the rules?"

"Then we'll find out soon enough and adjust our course of action."

"I hate that you have an answer for everything."

"Then stop asking questions."

Crystal and Grey stuck out their tongues at each other while Lillian giggled, and Rayne shook her head at the foolishness of it all. "Children, please."

"You're the youngest one here!"

"Hard to tell by looking, huh?" Rayne shrugged. She wasn't nearly as useful with sewing, so she'd taken to tying on little chimes and ribbons to decorate her bodhrán since her large acoustic kit was much too large and bulky for their purposes. The small frame drum, just a bit over a foot in diameter and only four inches deep, was much easier to carry and play.

When they brought their main instruments for the music video, they brought along a few supplementary instruments to use for the mixing as well. Actual recording was going to happen in a proper studio, but sometimes having them around and playing them when practicing could spark more natural inspiration than trying to force it during a recording session.

So in addition to Crystal's small harp, Grey's bouzouki, Lillian's electric keyboard and Rayne's acoustic drum kit, they also brought along macho bongos, a bodhrán, a tambourine, a fiddle, a bombard, an ocarina, a zither, enough bell bangles for the four of them, and a kalimba which Lillian was unnaturally proficient with. None of the instruments were particularly large, so it was easy to fit them in alongside everything else in the hand cart. Especially the kalimba - a hand-sized wooden board with attached staggered metal tines, which made an ethereally charming resonating sound when played despite its minuscule size.

"Rayne's got her drum, I'm taking my bouzouki, Lils is bringing..."

"Kalimba."

"Right, right. Coco, which instrument are you grabbing?"

Crystal snipped the thread with her teeth after tying a tight knot. "Since Lils is bringing the kalimba, I'll go with the fiddle."

"Ooh, are we gonna do a jig?"

"Maybe. We have to see what the climate's like in town."

"Climate is cold, Coco. There's snow."

"Emotional climate, Goofus! If something terrible happened recently, if there's an illness going around or a famine or what have you, it'd be inappropriate to run in with a nice cheerful Stick Across the Hob."

"Ah, Morrison's Jig. A classic."

"We can play it if people are friendly to us. Who knows, maybe they hate folk music. There was a time in our own history where the only socially appropriate music was religious hymns, you know."

"Gross."

"Right? So again, we just have to be careful."

"And then once they like us we can do fun songs, right?"

"Maybe slow tempo drinking songs or instrumental sea shanties to uh, test the waters."

"Har de har. Lyrics?"

"I really, really, extremely thoroughly and tragically doubt they'll speak English or any of the other languages we can sing in, and they might be alarmed by foreign languages. Classic orchestral music might be our best bet, honestly."

A potentially insurmountable language barrier was part of the reason their little group hemmed and hawed about heading to town. On the one hand they definitely needed more information about the world, but on the other hand, walking in without any knowledge or method of communication was a terrifying prospect.

So they did what they all did best, and procrastinated productively. The costumes were a good start, but they weren't sturdy enough to withstand frigid winter winds since the things were entirely cosmetic. Lillian proposed they somehow create thicker linings for their clothes, and Grey suggested they make use of the house's ability to restore items in order to do just that. But for that to work, they'd have to understand how it worked.

That night they waited with bated breath after destroying a single pillow, shredding it to bits as a sacrifice to the experimental gods of magic science. As soon as midnight ticked over on the household clocks, a new pillow appeared in its original place on its appropriate bed, and the shredded remains of the sacrificed pillow were still laying sad and limp on the floor.

"Infinite pillow glitch," Grey had whispered with delight, setting the other three to helpless giggling at his dumb joke.

The next day was spent ruining disposable objects around the house to various degrees and moving them around in order to determine the magic house's threshold of accounting damage and item 'respawning' limits. Some items were completely replaced, some were merely repaired, items from outside the property didn't count, and everything else had different thresholds for what counted as damage and what didn't.

While everyone was running around wrecking their house and generally having a good time doing magic science, Crystal put an empty jar outside of the fence to sit overnight. After the reset that night, it was fully replaced complete with its original contents, while the original empty jar remained outside of the property wedged into the snow.

Crystal smiled to herself with this new discovery, and put several small jars of preserves outside the fence in one of the small wooden crates she found in the cellar, covered with a thick towel to help insulate the glass.

"What were you getting up to?" Grey asked, as she stomped back into the house rubbing her arms to fight off the winter chill.

"Wishing we had warmer clothes," Crystal sighed, the mischievous glint in her eyes telling Grey he wouldn't get any answers yet. "Or at least pajamas with sleeves."

"Plotting something sinister?"

"Maybe."

"Rock on. Lemme know if I can help."

"Of course."

With their new knowledge regarding item respawn rules, they set about tearing more pillows and sheets into raw materials for upgrading their silly stage costumes into something functional, and copied the costumes into several spare sets for each of them just in case.

The costumes were inspired by fantasy medieval fashion and Renaissance faire finery, all four virtually identical in styling. Surcoats with silver bead tape and embroidery, high collar tunics with voluminous bishop sleeves, canvas cloaks with deep hoods, leather bracers, leather boots, leather belts with ring clasps, assorted leather bags, gloves, and leggings. Aside from the white tunic, everything was black with silver embellishments such as bead tape and braided fabric trims, or embroidery that shimmered in the light. The cloaks also sported little silver jingling bells attached along the hem, matching decorative bells on the boots and bags.

Most importantly, each of them had a unique Venetian masquerade mask with an attached beaded black face veil. The intricate, ornate masks had little bells dangling from loops on the sides, and were decorated with gemstone accents around and above the eyes; each member of Aos Sí Echtrae used a different gemstone for their stage name to capitalize on all the 'Fairy Rock' jokes they could make.

Plus, Crystal was already named after a shiny rock, so it was convenient all around.

"How are we gonna make these clothes warmer?" Grey asked, holding up his surcoat and raising an eyebrow in Lillian's direction.

"Quilting." Lillian said, gesturing with her hands to try and pantomime what she meant. "Gonna create pocket insulation layers using sheets, fill them with cotton and feather down and foam and whatever else we have to use. Then sew the pocket insulation layer in the middle of the original costume layer and an inner lining, to make the clothes warm without sacrificing their aesthetic!"

"The cloaks too?"

"The cloaks especially. They're already a strong sturdy material and have been water sealed, insulating them will basically turn them into actual quilts to shield us from the wind. In fact, I'll probably use cloak copies to make waterproof pants, since insulating leggings is a bit hard thanks to their thin material..."

"Too bad we can't make better boots too," Crystal sighed, glancing out the window. It hadn't stopped snowing since they arrived, and though most of the layers didn't completely stick, there was still a foot of snow outside they'd have to slog through to reach town. If the weather continued, they would have to put off the visit until some of that snow melted off.

"I'll break the path for you guys," Rayne said, flexing a powerful bicep. "No worries. We should still wait until it stops snowing, though. Walking through bad weather always sucks, even more so if it's over a big distance."

"Remembering high school?"

"God, that hill was brutal."

"Hey, everyone gets to help out with this!" Lillian said, pointing at the other three who were subtly edging toward the door during their conversation.

"I can't sew," Rayne quickly protested, and Lillian held up a finger to shush her.

"The lining doesn't have to be sewn pretty, the stitches just have to be strong. We need to make several copies of the belts, I want to repurpose them into something else... And I wanna keep an original copy of the costumes as well as have several sets of each so this is gonna take a few days worth of resetting to complete. Oh! Rayne, you can find big branches to make into walking sticks, the ground will be uneven under the snow and we don't wanna trip."

"Yes ma'am..."

Under Lillian's watchful eye, everyone got to work on different tasks in order to prepare for their first visit to another world's town, feeling a combination of trepidation and excitement in their hearts.

------

"Hey guys? There's uh. There's something weird." Rayne's voice echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps as she hurried toward the living room where the others were gathered around the finished costumes and enjoying the last of their breakfast.

"What in the... Is that... Is that a telescope?!" Grey asked incredulously as Rayne rounded the corner with something large and heavy in her arms.

"I was checking out the study and found it in one of the cabinets. So, the study has that windowed alcove bit that sticks out from the side of the house, right?"

"Yeah, like a breakfast nook but for books. Book nook!" Grey grinned, switching his attention from the costumes to the big brass telescope that Rayne was hurriedly setting up in front of the largest living room window. "This thing is ancient! There's no way this isn't some priceless antique or something!"

"Yes yes it's very cool and belonged to a former trade ship navigator about a hundred years ago don't ask how I know that I'm not sure either I understand why this weirds Coco out now, but that's not important!" Rayne wheezed, peering through the eyepiece and adjusting the focus before stepping away. "Look at the town."

Grey peeked through first, too excited about the telescope itself to wait much longer. He stared in silence for a good long moment, then frowned and stepped away to give Lillian room. "That's... You're right, that is weird. But I can't quite put my finger on why... I mean, aside from the architecture itself? But something else is bugging me..."

"It's hard to see detail from here even with the telescope, but I think some of them had glowing symbols decorating them?" Lillian said with a shrug after she had her turn. "They're pretty, and unusual for sure. Either magic or electricity, but I hope it's magic. That'd be cool!"

Crystal took her turn last, automatically touching her face to lift up the glasses that she no longer had to wear. She gave a soft laugh at finding her face naked, shook her head, and peered through the eyepiece.

The buildings were indeed strangely pretty, smooth white or silver constructs with colorful glass roofs, in sleek appealing shapes that more suited a science fiction setting rather than fantasy. Some had glowing symbols etched under arched windows or in rows along walls, but the light was dim and flickering, and it was impossible to tell from afar what shape the symbols had.

"The town has a uniform layout," Crystal said quietly, furrowing her brow. "It's a planned city. Wide roads on a grid, a perfectly arched wall surrounding the whole thing except where the harbor is. The tallest building is in the middle, might be a palace or castle? But... There's no people."

"Wait, what?!" Lillian exclaimed while Grey snapped his fingers in realization.

"That's it! Even though it's winter, there'd still be people moving around and working and stuff, right? But those roads are totally empty! No cars or wagons or pedestrians or nothing."

Crystal swung the telescope around, peering into the empty harbor, then past that toward the horizon where puffy white sails broke the barrier between sea and sky. "Ah, the ships... The city is really sleek and almost futuristic, but those ships are..."

Grey nudged Crystal aside to steal the eyepiece again, bouncing his leg with excitement. "Yo! Those are some real nice maritime vessels, my friends! Four-masted wooden masterpieces, and is that mizzenmast lateen-rigged? Squared raised stern, that's a nice prominent booty on those ships for sure. Those big boys are either carracks or galleons, or whatever they're called in this world. Whew, they're real beauties!"

"Was it an evacuation?" Lillian asked, concern coloring her voice, but Grey shook his head.

"Doubt it. The sails are torn and mended all over the place, and I think I see minor hull damage on the ones up close, but those lads are definitely pointed toward the town, and resting in a recognizable formation at that. They've been through a long journey to get here specifically, I think. In fact..." Grey swung the telescope, adjusting the focus as he went, searching to and fro until he spotted what he was looking for.

"They were further away when we first got here," Rayne said, holding up her fingers in a little pinching gesture. "The sails were like, this big on the horizon."

Grey nodded, then exclaimed aloud. "Aha! Found a pinnace! I dunno why it took them so long to approach, but they're moored in the deeps now, not sheltering in the harbor. And there, by the town wall! There's a little camp. Looks like... Ten people? They used a small pinnace boat to approach so it's probably a landing party scouting the area to see if it's safe to approach."

"I didn't see people! Let me see!" Rayne bumped Grey aside with her hip, stealing the telescope back. "There they are! Oh, they're still unloading the boat."

"It was still snowing pretty hard until like, today. They probably only just sent the team out." Grey said, and Rayne nodded in agreement.

"Looks like it. Hmm... Their clothes do look a little like our costumes, I think? They're tiny colorful blurs, but I think I see a couple people in cloaks, and possibly armor? Using our costumes is probably the best idea after all."

"But now things have gotten a bit more complicated," Crystal muttered, drumming her fingers on her bottom lip as thoughts tumbled around in her mind. "There's no permanent settlement yet. For some reason that city is empty, and we don't know why. The city looks more advanced than anything the people in wooden ships would be capable of making, no matter how nice the ships are, so they probably aren't the same civilization. If they have that many ships, are they colonizers? Are there natives to this land we need to worry about? How would they see us if we, as strangers who don't even speak their language, suddenly walked up while they're trying to settle an apparently empty foreign city?"

Grey and Lillian exchanged glances, while Rayne turned from the telescope and placed a hand on her hip. "Coco. Relax."

"How can I relax? If they're not friendly we're probably boned! They'll definitely come explore the forest for resources and they'll find us and-"

"Crystal!"

Crystal flinched as Rayne grabbed her by the shoulders and gave a gentle shake, bringing her back to her senses. She hadn't even realized she'd hunched over and started scratching at the delicate pale flesh of her arms, bright red tracks screaming their distress under her fingernails. She shivered, forcing her clawed hands to relax, and took a deep breath. "Ah... S-sorry, I... I just..."

"Does it feel dangerous?" Lillian asked, her voice calming Crystal's nerves with its serenity.

She thought a moment, then pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. It doesn't feel dangerous. I'm just... Worried, I think. Anxious. There's so many unknowns..."

"If they're gonna find us anyway, let's go to them on our own terms," Grey said, giving Crystal's face a gentle tap with his knuckles. "Right? We readied the costumes anyway, and Rayne whittled us some fine walking sticks."

"I even polished them."

"See? She polished them, Coco."

"There was wood lacquer in the maintenance closet."

"Wood lacquer, Coco!"

"Alright, alright!" Crystal threw up her hands in defeat, struggling in vain to hide the growing smile on her face. "You win. Let's get dressed and go make first contact."

"The masks are mandatory!" Grey said, grabbing his off the living room table. "If we're gonna be a minstrel group we gotta look the part!"

"I finished the slings for your instruments, so you can carry the cases on your back under the cloaks. Should make it less of a strain to lug them through the snow." Lillian looked proud as she showed off the repurposed leather belts, carefully measured to fit each of them and evenly distribute the weight of the heavy cases across their torsos. "My kalimba is small enough to fit in a bag so I felt like this is the least I could do to help."

"You're so great Lils," Grey sighed, giving his twin a grateful hug.

"I'll go get the sticks," Rayne said, running upstairs.

Meanwhile, Crystal rolled her eyes and heaved a despondent sigh. "Man... I have to wear actual clothes again..."

"It's too cold to be a nudist, Coco."

"I'm not a nudist, I'm just texture sensitive!"

"You'd be a nudist if it was socially acceptable."

"Eh... Debatable. I'm kinda lumpy."

"No you're just soft and huggable."

"Which makes me lumpy. Oh well, at least the costume materials feel nice." Crystal sighed once more, grabbing her outfit off the living room table. "Alright, everyone turn off their vision for a second."

"We have all seen you naked, Crystal."

"We all took turns washing your back when you went through physical therapy, Crystal."

"Also this is the living room."

"Nudist."

"Exhibitionist."

"Can't hear you guys I'm already naked!" Crystal stuck out her tongue as, contrary to her statement, she headed down the hallway toward the bathroom in order to change in privacy.

"Who's naked?" Rayne called down the stairs, accompanied by the thumping sound of four walking sticks repeatedly hitting the banister as she descended.

"Everyone except you!" Grey called back, his voice muffled as he pulled the blouse over his head.

"I had to get the sticks, no one told me we were having a nudey party!"

"Nudey parties are better fun with guests that aren't basically your relatives," Lillian grumbled, and Rayne nodded as she dumped the walking sticks on the nearest sofa.

"Eh, true. No offense, you guys are our unofficial adopted siblings."

"No no, it's mutual. You both are our sisters, seeing you lot naked does not rustle my jimmies in the slightest."

"Completely unrustled?"

"Not even a jostle."

"Damn."

"Wait, why are we unofficially adopted? There's no birth records in this world for us. We can just be siblings and no one will ever be able to prove otherwise."

"Shit, you're right! Okay, you're all adopted by me now. You can call me Mama."

"Like hell we will, you're the youngest!"

"Respect your elders, young man!"

Crystal laughed to herself as their voices echoed faintly through the closed bathroom door, then focused on getting dressed. Her costume was modified further thanks to a personal request she'd made, adding a long black wrap skirt that went to her ankles to be worn over the leggings. She also added a silver sash around the waist and under the belt, made using one of the spare bedsheets.

She didn't mind pants so long as the material was nice, but she preferred the swish of long skirts and dresses because it felt more fun, and if she had to wear clothes anyway they might as well be layered and interesting. Just so long as the inner layer actually touching her body was a nice comfortable fabric!

Lillian made the skirt match the rest of the outfit using bead tape and braided fabric, and liked the resulting skirt so much she added a shorter skirt and some frilly modifications to her own outfit. Then Grey wanted some fancy embellishments and dangling cloth bits to look more dramatic, so in the end only Rayne kept the original design.

"We look amazing," Grey said with a delighted sigh as everyone gathered together in the living room once more to don their masks.

"Are the masks really necessary?" Lillian mumbled as she tugged on the gossamer veil, causing the beaded decorations woven into the fine material to jingle and shimmer. "I mean... What if not being able to see our faces scares them, or makes them suspicious?"

"Then we can take them off?" Grey said with a shrug, slinging the shoulder strap of his instrument case over his arm before settling his cloak. "But I think it adds to our mystique as wandering minstrels, and we look fantastic rather than threatening. Plus, they're the ones landing near our house, right? We're the ones living here. For all they could know, it's culturally inappropriate to walk around with naked faces!"

"We'll have to get pretty close to know for sure," Crystal said. After a moment's thought, she took out her hairclip and left it on the coffee table, allowing her long blonde hair to tumble free in the brief moment before she put up her hood. She'd spent enough time in cold climates to know long hair was best left protecting one's neck from cold air. "We'll watch their body language as we approach. If they seem hostile, we'll back off. In the meantime, we should bring some food. It's a long hike."

Everyone agreed, filing into the kitchen to pack snacks and sandwiches into their bags. Crystal tucked a few jars of preserves into hers, bringing only those and a couple sandwiches instead of cramming the space with small packs of miniature cookies and potato chips like everyone else. Her choice of foodstuff went unnoticed, since everyone else was busy playing Tetris trying to fit their chosen assortment of snacks into relatively small bags.

Once everyone felt prepared enough for their journey, they took a moment to brace themselves, each grabbing a homemade walking stick, then stepped out of the house into the snow.

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

[sylvanfreckles]

Okay, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card?

Awww, that’s two nights in a row, FBI guy! This time I only looked up how to correct a skid on an icy road!

Summary: Sam and Dean are stranded in a snow storm when their car goes off the road...good thing there’s an angel on their shoulder.

* * *

“Dean, we really should turn back,” Sam complained again.

“You doubting my girl?” Dean shot back. He patted the dashboard sympathetically. “Baby's seen us through a lot worse than this, Sammy. She'll get us through.”

“It's not the—the car,” Sam gasped, clinging to the frame as the Impala shuddered to the right again. “It's the road!”

“Sam is right,” Cas butted in.

“No backseat driving,” Dean retorted. He twisted just enough to give Cas a look before Sam yelped something about the road and he had to focus again. Jeez, not like he hadn't been driving since he was twelve. Plus the tires were new...well, they had been two years ago, and it's not like they drove around as much as they used to.

“Tree! Tree! Tree!”

“I see it,” Dean snapped. Sam wasn't helping. Bad enough that they were trying to make it back to the highway in the middle of a stupid blizzard, having Mr Doom next to him and Mr Pessimism in the back seat was just icing on the cake.

Ha. Icing.

“Just a few more miles,” he called over the howl of the wind. The highway would be in better shape that this little access road, and the kids in the car could stop whining then. They could make it to a decent town with a decent hotel, maybe even an attached bar, instead of going back to Podunk Sally's Rooming House for another night among the antimacassars.

It is a truth to be universally acknowledged...that black ice just isn't fair.

The Impala's front tires skidded sideways, and when he feathered the brakes to correct he felt the back end of the car keep drifting. Dean bit down on a curse as he frantically spun the wheel into the skid but it was too late. He thought he heard someone shout his name and they were spinning, sliding off the road.

There was pressure on his right shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise, when the car finally slid to a stop nose-deep in the ditch. It was Cas, leaning up over the seat enough to brace a hand on Sam and Dean's shoulders, his own feet planted in the back.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam panted out. “How do we get out of here?”

Dean was already cranking the engine again, not that it would do much. He couldn't drive out of a nose-dive into the ditch, but maybe they could have heat for the night. The engine revved and tried to turn over, but she just wouldn't start. He smacked the steering wheel and leaned his head back. “I'm out of ideas.”

“Wait here.”

“What?” Sam was already turning in the seat. “Cas, we're halfway in the ditch, you'll never...”

But the angel simply levered the door open, somehow, and vanished in a swirl of snow and trench coat. He didn't even bother to shut the door again. “C'mon, Sammy, never tell him the odds,” Dean quipped. Damn, this was worse than Podunk Sally's, even without the antimacassars. At least Sally had made a killer hot toddy.

The metal shrieked around them, and before Dean could fully comprehend what was happening the Impala was dragged slowly out of the ditch onto the road. He spun around in his seat, trying to see through the blinding snow to the solitary figure at the back of the car, but it was too dark.

Slowly, steadily the car was pulled out and around to the side of the road. It was still tilted at an angle—apparently Cas had opted for leaving her on the shoulder instead of the middle of the road, which was sensible—and the angel climbed back in the car. “We're no longer in the ditch,” he observed with typical flatness.

“No kidding,” Dean breathed. Cas didn't show his strength like that too often so it was easy to forget what exactly his friend was, but that was incredible. “Don't suppose you could push us all the way to the next service station?”

Sam slapped him on the upper arm. Yeah, that was probably rude. The dude had just expended a massive amount of energy pulling them out of the ditch. “All right. So. Guess we're walking to civilization?”

“There was an old mailbox about half a mile back,” Sam suggested as he twisted in the seat to look into the darkness behind them. “Even if it's abandoned it would at least be shelter. Storm knocked the phones out, but maybe we can call in the morning,” he added, waving his own device.

“I concur,” Cas said—because of course he concurred and couldn't just agree this time. “Even minimal structure will provide better protection from the elements. We should move quickly before the two of you are further exposed.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “And you didn't even buy me dinner,” he joked as he piled out of the car along with Sam. They stopped back at the trunk for the basics, and at Sam's urging he left most of the weapons behind and focused on what would help them survive a blizzard for a night.

Cas ended up taking most of the load, pulling the bags right out of Sam and Dean's hands. “We should hurry,” he said simply before striking off through the snow for the old mailbox Sam had mentioned.

“How do you know you're going the right way?” Dean called, fighting through the snow to keep up. “Maybe we got spun all the way around.”

“I don't get lost, Dean,” Cas replied. “I have an excellent sense of direction.”

Right, right. He'd heard that one before. Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, but Sam had his arms wrapped tightly around his middle and his brow furrowed in concentration. Probably calculating how much food they had and whether it would last them long enough to be rescued.

Maybe they could eat Cas. Did it count as cannibalism if he technically wasn't human?

Dean's thoughts were interrupted when he nearly ran into the angel in question. “Cas?”

“We have reached the mailbox,” Cas explained over the rising wind.

“Great!” Dean stuffed his hands in his armpits and stomped his feet. Damn, it was cold. “Which way to the house?”

Cas pointed. Dean craned his neck in that direction and thought he could see the vague outline of a building. “You sure?”

“It appears to be a dilapidated single-wide trailer,” Cas replied. “I do not sense any life forms beyond the expected vermin, so it should be safe for the night.”

Ew. Dean tried to smile, but the thought of spending the night with a bunch of rats made him miss Podunk Sally's even more. “Lead the way!”

Cas swiveled and started off at a right-angle to the road. Dean waited for Sam to start moving before falling into line behind his brother. Why hadn't he noticed Sam didn't have a heavy coat on before they left? The poor dude had to be half frozen by now.

The angel's predictions were correct, and before too long they found themselves in front of a half-rotted single-wide trailer. One end had some bad smoke damage, but on the plus side the windows were boarded up, so that meant it had to be a little insulated. Cas took charge as he had at the car and simply tugged the door open, stepping back into the snow to help the Winchesters climb into the trailer's dark interior. Dean would have protested that he could climb up on his own, but in truth he was losing feeling in his fingers and welcomed the assist.

The inside was...well, about what could be expected. There was no furniture except a couple of kitchen chairs with no seats, and the whole place smelled terrible. Still, it was out of the wind, and in that moment that was heavenly.

Somehow Cas got the door closed again, then moved around the brothers setting their supplies out. “You should change into dry clothing,” he said over his shoulder. “I will see about a fire.”

Dean nodded, though he wasn't sure he had enough feeling in his fingers for that. Inside the trailer was better than the outside, but that wasn't saying much. It was still cold, even worse since night had sunk in with prejudice. He was shivering so hard he was pretty sure he was gonna have whiplash after this.

Cas straightened up, seeming to realize their predicament. “Wait a moment,” he said, almost gently, and rested a hand on each of their shoulders. Dean felt a rush of healing warmth fill his body, banishing the deadly cold from their walk in the snow. He gave a sigh of relief as Cas's touch warmed his body without that awful pins-and-needles stage he usually felt in between.

“Thanks, man,” he said.

“Dry clothes,” Cas reminded him. “I apologize I could not dry what you are wearing.”

“Are you kidding?” Sam burst in. He was already stripping out of his wet jacket and shirts. “Cas, that was amazing. That was more than enough.”

“Sammy's right,” Dean added. He managed to shift around the clothes just enough to make sure Sam could get the warmest stuff. “This was big, dude.”

Cas tilted his head, but that was the equivalent of a long conversation to him. “I should be able to gather plenty of fuel from the damaged end of the trailer,” he said, gesturing to the part that was burned. “I suggest the two of you find the best place to fortify against the cold for the night.”

Dean threw him a salute. “On it!”

Sam rolled his eyes, of course, but as soon as he was dressed in the warm clothing Dean had sneakily picked out for him he joined his brother in investigating what was left of the trailer.

There was a small bedroom that was fairly undamaged, with only one window that was still pretty heavily boarded up. There were a few cracks between the boards, but Dean took care of that by just stuffing his wet socks into them. They could still feel a little of the wind coming through, but it was much better than it had been.

Cas returned with an armful of wood as the brothers were moving the bags into the small room. He studied it closely and nodded to himself. “I will return with an appropriate vessel to contain the fire.”

He was gone before the others could question him. Dean heaved out a dramatic sigh and tugged a blanket free of one of the bags, wrapping it behind himself so he could lean against the wall without touching it. “He's still such a weird little dude,” he commented.

“He's probably saving our lives tonight,” Sam retorted, a little sharply.

Dean waved in acknowledgment. “I'm grateful, yeah. Doesn't make him any less weird. I mean, he's pulled my ass out of the fire how many times? Guess he gets to add pulling it out of the ice now.”

“Is it even safe to build a fire in here?”

“Safer than freezing to death.”

They were quiet for a few moments before hearing the front door bang open again. Dean sat up straight and reached for his gun, which he realized belatedly was across the room, but it was just Cas. Cas and what looked like an old, battered barbecue grill.

“It's not ideal,” Cas explained. The grill—one of those round ones on the little tripods—had definitely seen better days. Cas efficiently knocked the legs off and pried the lid away, leaving them with a metallic bowl a little more than a foot across. Cas immediately began layering kindling and pieces of wood in the old grill.

“Do you have a lighter?” Sam asked, patting at his pockets frantically. “I don't have mine.”

Dean swore. “Might be with the wet stuff in the main room,” he said, struggling out of the blanket.

Cas rested his hand on the pile of wood in front of him, and when he pulled it away there was a small fire burning away.

“Dude!” Dean leaned back with a laugh. “You some kind of Boy Scout?”

Cas tilted his head, but Sam interrupted before the angel could react. “This is awesome, Cas. Thank you so much.”

Sam leaned forward, holding his hands out to the small flame. The fire grew to consume the wood in the old half-grill, but didn't spread out of it to the room beyond. Smoke might be a problem at some point, but Dean was pretty sure there were enough holes in the rest of the house that they'd be fine. Just have to set a watch to make sure no one got sick.

“Thanks man,” he added after a minute, looking up at Cas...who looked terrible. Snow was melting on his coat and his face was almost gray. He was hunched over himself, staring at the growing flames of the campfire. “Cas?”

It seemed to take some effort, but Cas finally looked up at him. Dean understood. Pulling the car back onto the road, forging the way through the storm, then everything he'd done to warm the brothers up since...Cas was beat. “Looks like you need some dry clothes,” Dean observed.

Cas stared down at what he was wearing, his frown deepening when he realized it was still wet. “I merely need a few minutes to rest.”

“We're not going anywhere until morning,” Sam cut in. “There's plenty of dry stuff here, you might as well be comfortable.”

Cas hesitated, but finally accepted the duffle bag Sam pushed toward him. He changed so fast Dean was pretty sure he'd just mojo'd the dry clothes on, but at least he looked a little more comfortable.

“All right, I got first watch,” Dean said after a minute or so. “The two of you get some rest.”

“I don't require sleep, Dean,” Cas replied.

“Just...humor me?” Dean waved a hand. “You've done all the heavy lifting—literally. Just take a couple hours to recharge, okay?”

Cas frowned down at his own knees, but that was probably the best Dean was going to get. Sam was already wrapping himself up in a couple of blankets until he looked like a moose burrito. “Wake me in four hours,” he said. Cas started to protest, but Dean agreed before the angel could say much of anything.

“Sleep tight, Cas,” Dean insisted when the angel showed no sign of moving. “I've got it from here.”

#whumptober2020 #no 27 #okay who had natural disasters on their 2020 bingo card? #extreme weather #superatural #fic #fanfic #snowstorm #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel

[yridenergyridenergy]

Dir en grey - Otaru GoldStone 09/28/2019 live report

1. Zetsuentai

2. Aka

3. Downfall

4. Devote My Life

5. Rubbish Heap

6. Merciless Cult

7. Keigaku no yoku

8. Celebrate Empty Howls

9. Ningen wo Kaburu

10. Keibetsu to hajimari

11. Values of Madness

12. Ranunculus

13. The World of Mercy

Encore

1. Fukai

2. Followers

3. Gaika, chinmoku ga nemuru koro

4. THE DEEPER VILENESS

5. Utafumi

What a night. Otaru Gold Stone is small, we were around 500 in it but the stage was low, the sound was too loud for some instruments depending on where you were in the venue, and holy hell I thought moshpits were forbidden here in Japan. We kept getting pushed and pushing, and someone we got closer everytime, so apparently people in the centre were getting squashed out toward the sides?!

This live report will be even more Kyo-centric than usual, because I could only crane my neck and stand on my toes among that wall of fans to concentrate on one member. But Toshiya seemed stern at first but as the show progressed, he came foth and enjoyed the crowd, even though he never fully cracked a smile. He encouragedthe audience though and appeared to approve of our reactions in general. He was just as entranced with his bass, turning his head upward during Ranunculus. As for Die, his vest really matches Kaoru's custom guitar. His long hair kept blowing in the wind and he would flip it occasionally. In one of the first few songs, he was staring at his side of the crowd with a grave expression but raised his chin a couple of times as if to say: "Oh yeah? That's it?" Kaoru I think remained very serious the whole time except that, at the end, he stayed the longest and really enjoyed the night. Shinya, all I could notice was that he rumbled away like there was no tomorrow at his heavy drums during The World of Mercy, he was in his own universe.

Kyo has a full pectorals tattoo! I doubt it is completely new, but it was definitely news to me. I have no idea what it is, it looked like the marks on a leopard's fur at first but it looks more complex, almost as if it's supposed to be the shadows of the skeleton inside his chest? And on his right side of his neck, it really looks like the drawing from Junji Ito, with the conjoined heads - the hair of a woman stretching toward something in the back. Just below his chin, it looked like a bunch of vertical lines only. He is going full on yakuza for sure.

He came on stage wearing a matching suit: both top and bottom were black with sparse big white feathers. The vest looked like it had a flap, like a short cape behind the neck, because at some point he crouched to give a growl or something and a piece of fabric came to cover his should, but it could not possible have been the lower ends of the vest itself... The dress shirt he had underneath was classic black, and he had a black tie. After three songs or so, he loosened it and also undid the first couple of buttons at the top. Near the end of the main setlist, more buttons had been undone and that's how we were able to see his chest, wide enough to see his nipples.

His hair! With the stripes of the feathers, the formal clothing, his styled hair and the smudged lipstick, he looked almost nazi-esque. This hairstyle is so close to the Tabula Rasa/In Situ one! I am so glad that I witnessed it in person! I guess, to describe it, it almost looks like Levi's hairstyle from Attack on Titan, but he styled the left side toward the back of his head. After sweating though, it was even more awesome and resembling!

He smoked twice or three times during the show. For the first instance, its scent came to my senses before I could see it, during the pause. He tried to do the iiiiiii high-pitched sound in Downfall (?) while having the cigarette on the corner of his mouth: that failed. Later, he was holding his cigarette with his two middle fingers, giving us the horns/fox sign he is now known for!

Aka was more dramatic than I remember it being. Kyo looped his mic cord around his neck twice and caressed it into a hanging string. I think it was during that song that he was dancing like a maniacal pantomime a lot too.

At the very beginning of Rubbish Heap, Kyo cones to the forefront of the stage next to his stand and he holds his fist up in the air for the first 'Fist!' of the song and he has that very obvious facial expression like "Come on guys, here's what I want you to do! Come on, you can do it, go!" which you would use for a child. And yet, what do the majority of the fans do? Still hands...

I cannot remember which song it was exactly, but Kyo started by hitting his forehead repetitively with the mic, and then the chest/heart, and again with the head. It might have been Ranunculus, because I remember that the sound of the hits came just before the circus-like sound and he was singing about kokoro. Doing it right before those sounds was nice, like a preclude, it made sense altogether.

Ranunculus was at least if not more intense than usual. I think that it was during it that Kyo clawed at his dress shirt's sleeve on his left arm, then brought his wrist to his mouth and actively bit it. Had his teeth been any sharper, he would have undoubtedly drawn blood.

After Ranunculus was The World of Mercy. In the transition between the two, Kyo spoke to himself, asking 'Naze?' (why) often, and he then began The World of Mercy fucking depressed, sad and desperate. The end of the song was very beautiful with the simple idea of blasting white light from behind the stage while he chants 'The World of Mercy', it really looked more angelic.

When singing about the game of life and repeating game ('yuugi'), Kyo kept tracing a large circle with his arm fully extended, strenghtening the never-ending nature of this foolishness/challenge.

When doing the return after the break in The World of Mercy, since there are no instruments at first, he yells the 'Jou ni-' with his mic near his hip.

People don't understand the intensity of tge part after 'sekai de' yet.

By the way, the stage just has a large poster of the The Insulated World cover, with fingers on each side. No movies at all this time.

In Keigaku no yoku, Kyo definitely changed that last sentence to 'ore-', but the part he adds after sounded more like 'watashi...'. He also changed or added an 'omae no' something to one of the songs, but it wasn't to make a compliment...

In the encore, Kyo came back wearing black jeans with ripped knees and a D.E.G. shirt without sleeves. The image was identical to the sticker they are currently selling in the goods, so perhaps this design will be used for the T-shirt sold in the USA, Mexico and Europe?

Kyo is such an amazing rocker. I believe that it was during Gaika chinmoku that he did that headbang, where he needs to lean his left hand on his thigh because of how heavy it gets, you know? Ugh. Really the total opposite of sukekiyo's feminine songs. He's so good all around.

As always I am probably forgetting stuff. I will try to draw some of my memories though.

#Dir en grey #live report #Otaru #This Way to Self-Destruction #tour 2019 This Way to Self-Destruction #live #Kyo #tattoos #京 #Sapporo

[theshapeshifter100]

Wolf and Raven Chapter 4

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Masterlist

(A/N) This is when the insomnia kicks in

---

Wolf awoke abruptly the next day, thrown from sleep. Her nostrils flared as she breathed heavily, glancing around. She was alone in her camp; Raven had gone back to her own hours ago. Fingers of dawn were clawing their way over the mountains; she would have to check on the Warriors soon.

A whine escaped the back of her throat and she curled up, clutching her head. Half remembered images swam in her mind from the dream.

Her screaming, her staff held just out of reach, Nevar’s laughter, the scream of a raven, falling snow, spreading rot. Little insinuations, no words. Nevar never spoke truly, but he always managed to get his meaning across.

Don’t you miss it? He was asking. Don’t you miss the power you had? Do you really think they trust you? The rot is spreading anyway, you can’t win. Raven will never trust you.

Wolf’s snarl echoed in the small clearing. No! She wasn’t doing this again! Nevar only ever dealt in anger and lies. She was stronger now!

With short, angry movements Wolf packed up her camp, shoving everything into bags to be collected later. With a few deep, calming breaths, she went to greet the Warriors in this new day.

 ---

Raven and Wolf briefly met around midday, and Raven handed her a handful of something.

“I am sorry, what have you handed to me?” Wolf asked.

“Feathers, as you had asked,” Raven tilted her head. “Are you well, Wolf?”

“Perfectly!” Wolf forced a smile. “My apologies, my mind is not as sharp as it should be this day. I must return to the Warriors, thank you for these.”

Later in the day when reporting to the Giants, they asked something unexpected.

“Yoooouuu aaaaare troooubllled?”

Wolf paused, breath catching in her throat. “I am.”

“Weeee caaaanooot heeeeelp yooooouuu wiiiith yoooouuur deeemooons,” the Giant informed. “Yoooou muuuust reeeemaaain stroooong. Yooooou aaaaare caaapaable.”

“Thank you,” Wolf inclined her head, not feeling particularly grateful, but knew better than to push.

“Yoooooouuu knoooow theee ruuuuuunes oooooof prooootectiiiioon. Uuuuuse theeeeem.”

“I will.”

Wolf did not see Raven that night, the nightmare still running around her head. She also didn’t sleep, finishing the cloak just as the sun came up the next morning.

She coped the next day, watching the Warriors. They’d been here a week now and were working their way through the challenges. Everything seemed fine.

“DEMON!”

Wolf’s head shot up from where it had lolled and looked around for where the shout had come from. A howl went up, and the Hawks were running from a black cloaked demon.

“No!” Wolf leapt from her tree and stepped between the Warriors and the demon. “Keep going Warriors!”

The demon stared right at her, and her limbs froze in the snow. Humming and faint screaming echoed in the back of her mind, and the whole world narrowed.

A loud scream pierced through roaring in her ears and Wolf startled back. The demon was much closer than it had been a moment ago.

She swiftly scrawled a rune in the snow and turned on her heel back to the Warriors.

In time to see a second demon touch one of them and have them burst into dust.

Horror froze Wolf for a second before she was running.

“GO!” she screamed, grabbing a pinecone and throwing it at the demon to get its attention. “OVER HERE!”

The one behind her burst into ash, but the shouting worked. The second demon turned to face Wolf, who was already scrawling a rune with her boot. The demon shambled closer, moving painfully slowly.

She needed it to come towards her, even as she glanced towards the fleeing Warriors. She could not check on them, not yet. She needed to wait. Even if the approaching demon made her skin crawl and her throat close up.

It got closer to the rune and she stepped back. She matched every step it took, until it was on top of her rune. It burst into smoke upon touching it.

Wolf took a moment to catch her breath before running after the remaining Hawks. The group was shaken but together, minus one.

“My apologies Warriors, for reacting as slowly as I did,” Wolf said. The Warriors did not respond. Wolf fished in her pouch for a rune and grabbed five seeds. The seeds she scattered on the ground and the rune tossed in the air, trying to bring back the lost Warrior.

The rune thudded to ground.

Wolf stared at it. Blinking.

“I am sorry, allow me to…” Wolf picked it back up again and tried to cast it again. Once again, it thudded onto the snowy ground.

Wolf stared at it before slowly picking it back up.

“I, I am sorry. I do not think I am able to revive your teammate. They are lost to the demons.”

The Warriors looked at each other, steeling themselves.

“I will check on the Bears and confer with Raven, but I will make no promises. I will need to make extra protection runes around your camps tonight. Howl if you need me,” Wolf shifted and ran off to check on the Bears.

She ran around the camps, making sure they were sufficiently protected, before running to check in with Raven.

Raven’s expression was neutral, but her fingers were tight on the staff.

“Demons,” they both said at the same time.

“I lost a Warrior to one,” Wolf swallowed. “A Hawk.”

“A Lynx,” Raven swallowed. “I could not revive them.”

“I could not either. I had hoped-”

“As had I. I am not sure why my powers could not bring them back here. Although I have said before that this land does not like me reviving Warriors.”

“I was using the Giant’s runes to bring them back, and it did not work. I do not think it works on demons.”

“That is unfortunate,” Raven took a deep breath. “We will need to watch our Warriors more carefully.”

“That we will,” Wolf agreed. “However,” Wolf pulled out the black cloak, “on a brighter note, I finished this.”

“That is indeed a brighter note,” Raven took the cloak and swung it over herself. It was a heavy cloak; it was supposed to be to keep the wearer warm. The raven, starling and falcon feathers that lined the outside shone in the setting sun, while dark mink, martin, rabbit and silver fox fur lay on the inside, insulating the wearer.

“Are you warmer?”

“Yes. I do believe I am, thank you for this gift Wolf,” Raven adjusted it, since it was heavier to what she was used to. “The Warriors will recover from their loss. It will not be their last.”

“I hope it will be their last,” Wolf admitted.

“You can always hope,” Raven tilted her head. “Is your sleep improving?”

“…No, is it not,” Wolf decided not to lie now. “I will set up stronger runes tonight. That should help.”

“Why do you need runes, are you being attacked in the night?”

“No. I fear that Nevar’s presence here is triggering some memories,” Wolf brought a hand to her temple, remembering the humming and the sound of metal screeching against metal. The mere thought of the laughter made her stomach tie itself into knots.

“You will still be able to continue?”

“Of course,” Wolf waved off. “You need not concern yourself with me.”

“If you are certain,” Raven tilted her head. “Is that why you avoided me last night?”

“Yes. I apologise, I was not in a good state of mind last night. I worked on the cloak that evening to take my mind off sleep.”

“I see,” Raven did not look too convinced, but did not press. “Do you need to report to the Giants?”

“Aye, I do. I will see you tomorrow most likely,” Wolf nodded and raised a hand in farewell before shifting and leaving.

Raven watched her leave, fiddling with her new cloak. “I worry for her,” she muttered to herself. “I worry that she still may not be telling the full truth.”

The Staff flashed purple and she looked at it for a moment, before summoning Raven of Old.

“Tell me, how do the Warriors fare?” he asked his usual question.

“We lost two today to the hands of demons. We will be watching them more closely.”

Raven of Old nodded. “I will continue to keep watch from my realm. It appears the Lynx team may have to take a different route tomorrow, their current one is guarded.”

“Thank you for your warning.”

Raven of Old gave a small smile. “You have a new cloak,” he noted.

“Yes. This climate warranted warmer clothing.”

He nodded again, with some mild approval. “You wear it well. Now tell me, have you been keeping an eye on Wolf?”

“I have. Other than trouble sleeping, she has not been acting suspicious, and appears to the have the Warriors best interests at heart.”

“Hmm. Perhaps people can change with time. Or perhaps it is a ruse. It has happened before on one of these quests. I trusted the wrong ally, although at the time he was playing both sides, masterfully at that.”

“Are you certain she was working with Nevar?” Raven remembered Wolf’s story.

“It did not look good,” Raven of Old said. “Working with him or not, her actions caused the death of an entire camp, and possibly more.”

“I do not deny that, and I don’t think she does either.”

Raven of Old sighed and shook his head. “It is possible she is not the woman I knew. It is possible she is not the woman I thought I knew. Use your own judgement in this matter.”

Raven nodded, “Have you been able to watch her through the talisman?”

“I have not attempted it, but perhaps I shall. I shall see what she up to when she thinks that no one is watching.”

“Thank you Wise One.”

Raven of Old nodded and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

 ---

Wolf reported to the Giants about the failure to resurrect.

“Theeee deeemooons aaaarre noooot oooof heeeere. Theeee ruuuuunes wiiiill nooot alwaaaays uuuundooo theeeeir wooooork.”

“I see. What would you advise?”

“Caaaauttiiiion Liiiitlleee Woooooolf. Prooooteeeect thheeee Waaaarriiiooors aaaas beeeeest yooooou caaaan. Taaaaaake heeeeeaaaart, aaaaall iiiiiiss nooooot loooooost.”

“Thank you,” Wolf held her tongue. The Giant slowly lowered her back to the ground, and with great cracking and rumbling, the Giant returned to their slumber, appearing to be a mountain once more.

“I would assume I continue on as I have been,” Wolf added bitterly, rubbing her eyes. “The advice ‘take heart’ is not especially useful.”

She shifted to a wolf and went to her camp, unaware of Raven of Old watching her from another realm.

---

A/N

The only issue I ever really had with new Raven is the fact that she does not have her own cloak. It's probably to differentiate her from James Mackenzie's Raven, but still! Cloaks are cool! This had to be rectified!

Also, anyone spot the reference to Ervan?

Finally, I will say that if the show had pulled that, not bring back a Warrior seemingly randomly, that would have been not particularly great or sporting, but this is a fanfic so whatever!

Giant Speech

“You are troubled?”

“We cannot help you with your demons,” the Giant informed. “You must remain strong. You are capable.”

“You know the runes of protection. Use them.”

“The demons are not of here. The runes will not always undo their work.”

“Caution Little Wolf. Protect the Warriors as best you can. Take heart, all is not lost.”

#Raven #Raven CBBC #Raven 2002 #New Raven #Raven of Old #Raven: The Island #Raven: The Secret Temple #Raven: The Dragon's Eye #Let the challenge begin #TheShapeshifter100writes

[terraclae]

The city of Paramo

Arodan and the residents of castle Paramo head into the city itself. All dragons are in bipedal forms.

Lore pings: @cityofinoue @yuushanoah-fr

‘This is your first time here right?’

‘Yes.’ The city was vastly different from what Arodan had imagined. There were the cave homes he had expected but otherwise the city was far more modern than what a massive hollow under the ground should allow. The layout of the city was mostly rectangular and the streets were wide enough for generally all dragons to pass through in a non bipedal form. The houses itself looked like they were built from the stone around it or on top of existing houses with many forms of greenery winding around it. Arodan wondered how one grew plants underground for a moment until he took note of the bright fixture of energy that beamed at the ceiling of the cave in the very center of the city. The spires that held up the cave no doubt were lined with machines and wires that could only be intended for pumping air into the underground city and creating condensation which piled up at the ceiling of the cave and fell as rain. Judging by the many lights and windows along the walls of this massive hollow there must have been walkways along the sides. ‘Woah.’

‘You're daydreaming.’

He snapped out of his thoughts and wonder to look at Carmen who had gone to pacing before him, backwards. ‘I've never been in an underground city, much less so one like this. It's new for me.’

‘You look like a first-timer. It's kind of funny.’ She chimed. With a hop and a skip she landed right next to Arodan again to walk besides him. ‘Eyes all starry and mouth catching flies.’

‘Hey, it's too early to start making fun of him Carmen.’ Epoch walked up to Arodan's other side and glanced around him. ‘At least give him until the noon hour.’

‘You're not getting to make fun of him darlings, he's under my watchful eye today.’ Kassa had been trailing ahead of them all this time alongside Atlas, all the way from the castle. Only now they decided to speak up. ‘We have a disaster to avert.’

‘The disaster at our doors or…?’ Carmen's eyes which had momentarily focused on Kassa now drifted back to Arodan. ‘Ah, I get it.’

‘What was that again about not making fun of me in the early morning?’

‘Lighten up Danny, it's all in good faith.’ It was Atlas that spoke up this time. He carried a rather large halberd with him at the moment. ‘Everybody, change the subject or I'll tattle to king Balam.’

‘What are you, my dad?’ Epoch said, with only a hint of humor. ‘Ah well, we will split up soon anyway.’

‘Before we do, can I ask you a quick question?’ Arodan asked, turning to Carmen and Epoch. ‘How does that artificial sun on the ceiling work?’ He wondered if they ever dimmed a light of such a magnitude, and how difficult that might be. ‘Doesn't it mess with the sleep cycles of the residents?’

‘Ah, you're right to ask us.’ Carmen and Epoch chimed in unison. Epoch continued. ‘It is linked to the natural cycle of day and night. If it's night outside, it will automatically dim until it's completely extinguished, and if the sun rises it'll steadily lighten up.’ Carmen followed up with ‘It has a connection to the surface to a machine that measures the daylight outside so that is how it roughly keeps up with the actual time.’

‘Ah, that's interesting. I take everything strapped to those pillars is for air then?’ Arodan continued to ask and focused in particular on a pillar closest to their location. ‘How did you build all this? There's even greenery, I'm impressed.’

‘Aw shucks.’ Carmen waved her hand in odd fashion to wave away the compliment. ‘We had some help. In the past Stratus Corporation did a lot of business with the city of Paramo and that is how we have all these technological advancements. I designed all the magic dependent systems though. It used to be a bit more archaic and that did work, we still have those systems that aren't dependent on a constant flow of magic, but transitioned to the new one consistently as new cargo arrived to make all of this possible.’

‘Via boat?’

‘Yep!’ Carmen and Epoch chimed in unison. The mention of boats seemed to capture Epoch’s attention in particular. He was the one to continue speaking. ‘It was a smaller trading vessel of the clipper variety used more often for transporting building materials before it was retired. It's name was the Saltspray, I got to view it once.’

‘That's…. A lot.’ Or well, everything was relative. For Arodan the current conversation and his current surroundings were a sensory overload. The city around him was bustling with shoppers, spotters and restless souls going about their days. The shops, now he looked closer, were richly decorated with hanging trinkets, with stalls before their doors loaded to the brim with vegetables and fruits, and too much, too much for his head to comprehend.

No wonder outside forces wanted this city and its castle, it was almost too idyllic.

Before he could stop himself he had asked ‘So what's the catch?’

‘The catch?’ Carmen asked, turning her head in an odd manner. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The city’s sheltered, and we are running out of space.’ Kassa answered. They glanced over their glasses but it seemed like their heavy eyelids still hid their eyes. ‘Unless you're fine with living in a cave for the rest of your life you might grow bored with it too.’

‘Well, it's not that bad right?’ Carmen added, catching on to what Arodan had meant. ‘I mean, it's safe in here.’

‘You're asking a claustrophobic.’ They snickered and glanced towards Carmen. ‘And I just want to fly, stretch my wings a little.’

‘Well…’ Carmen scratched her head and had already decided she wasn't going to argue with Kassa, with a look that could only mean it must have been routine at some point. ‘Anyhow!’ She perked up and turned to Arodan. ‘Me and Epoch are going to be running around town to run some errands, by the time you're done we’ll probably be telling stories in the park over yonder.’ She pointed towards a small park set in between two buildings which seemed a little overgrown. ‘Let's meet up there again once it's time to head back to the castle.’

‘Alright. You okay with that too Dan?’ Atlas glanced sideways at Arodan and readjusted the halberd on his shoulder. Arodan nodded and he turned his head to look another direction. ‘There's this shop owner I was supposed to meet, thingy for Balam and something for me.’ He walked off and absentmindedly waved at the group behind him. ‘So later dorks, have fun.’

‘Let's head off too then.’ Epoch turned the other way and hooked his arm into Carmen’s. ‘Kassa, leave him in one piece and keep the amount of feathers to a minimum, will you?’

‘Yes, yes.’ Kassa grinned as they said this. They weren't going to keep their promise when it came to feathers, that was certain. They firmly grasped Arodan’s bicep and tugged at him to follow along. ‘Let's get you armor darling, can't have you dying anytime soon.’

‘Easy on my arm.’ Arodan snapped, pulling himself loose. Kassa was a lot faster with their big strides and fast pace and he had trouble keeping up. ‘So, are you certain that they have armor that fits me? I'm not good with heavyweight armor.’

‘Just the way you look at things is a dead giveaway. I can tell you to start lifting weights but there's no time to get beefy now, no?’ Kassa headed into a narrow alley which was cast in the darkness of the buildings it was in between. ‘So, if you know your magic well, that is what your armor will be tailored to.’

‘As long as it's not too gaudy and protects me from harm I'm fine with anything.’ He near tripped over a crate in the alley and wondered where in the blazes Kassa was taking him. ‘Oh, and do not make it green, I hate the color green.’

‘What a shame, I had a lovely shamrock body armor for you in mind.’ Kassa jested. They exited the alley into a small courtyard between buildings, where mostly elderly dragons sat reading books or newspapers. ‘No worries though, I think you'll only look good in blues or blacks to be honest.’

‘And orange?’ He came to a halt before a small shop in a corner of the square. It looked as if it had seen far better days but was still being cared for lovingly. ‘What is this place?’

‘My favorite place in this city. It's been here for ages and before we permanently closed Paramo.’ Kassa answered, opting to not go into Arodan's question whether he'd look good in orange. They opened the door which loudly creaked as it moved inwards. ‘If I wasn't a strategist, this is where I would work.’

‘I guessed so.’ He sounded almost sarcastic as he said this and entered. It occurred to him this shop didn't really look like it had been built with dragons in mind. The musty carpet under his feet definitely felt dragon made however. ‘What was that about the feathers anyway?’

‘Oh, dear Epoch doesn't know why I like to use feathers in fashion, but I will let you in on a secret.’ Kassa hummed, and picked a particularly fluffy coat from a nearby rack with a copious amount of feathers sewn to it. ‘Tell me, what are feathers?’

‘A very complex organic structure coating avians but also some dragons, that allows flight and grants insulation?’

‘Yes.’ But that definitely wasn't the answer Kassa was expecting, judging the look on their face. ‘They are hollow.’ They pulled a feather out of the coat in question and held it up to Arodan. ‘Now tell me what you see.’

It took a few seconds for a green fluid to start leaking from the tip of the feather and even then it did not leak fast. Arodan beheld it with wide eyes. ‘... Poison?’

‘Good boy.’ Kassa returned the coat to the rack and took the feather along to dump it in a bin down the aisle. At the very end of it was a vast wall lined with armor plating of various kinds. ‘I made that coat. The feathers don't loosen particularly easily and are rather sharp.’

‘For what purpose? Why would you make something like that?’ Arodan asked them as he frantically followed. ‘I didn't think you actually made clothing.’

‘It is my passion!’ They hissed, coming to a skidding halt by the wall. ‘My hands were made for making clothing! They just ache to create!’ They threw their hands in the air in a moment of excitement. ‘Just because I'm not a tailor by trade doesn't mean I'm not one by heart and skill.’

‘Alright, I get it, but I meant the poisonous feathers.’ He backed away defensively. ‘How did you get that anyway, isn't that Serthis poison?’

‘Oh, that.’ They shrugged and held up their hands in a noncommittal gesture. ‘Trader’s secret. And it's more for the fashionable assassins under us or the folks who want to be discreetly armed against abusive figures.’

‘I see. You have more of that hanging in here?’

‘Half the fashion in this store was made by her.’ A new voice echoed from the back of the store and soon a four eyed figure appeared in the doorway. ‘Luckily she works faster than they sell, there's just no end to it.’

‘They is fine Estelle, he's good company.’ Kassa responded, and the mirror quietly bowed her head in apology. ‘Arodan, this is Estelle, she owns this shop.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’ She presented herself with a little flourish and looked very out of place in an environment such as this one. Her brown eyes revealed she must have been from earth territory. ‘I'm known as Estelle, and I do not answer to pet names. Please just refer to me by my name.’

‘Don't worry, I understand.’ Arodan shot her a knowing look and extended his hand. ‘I'm Arodan. You seem familiar… Somehow.’ She reminded him a little of someone else he had met a long time ago when he was roaming the outskirts of the Hewn city. She had a similar square face. ‘Do you make clothing too?’

‘Sometimes.’ She said. Her voice had a deep mellowness to it that reverberated uniquely through the room. ‘I'm better at selling fashion than making it but that is fine with me. What I do make often tends to be armor.’

‘Peculiar. This place seems to be rather well hidden.’ Arodan glanced around the shop and found plenty of racks had yet to be restocked. ‘I take you're a popular venue?’

‘Sometimes.’ She repeated, and her lips curled into a small smile. She didn't look like she entertained the emotion of joy a lot, dressed in all black and with gloomy eyes. ‘So, new boy, where you from? You don't look like a true blue iceborn dragon.’

‘I was raised in a light-aligned clan. Lots of shade hunters, people who are a little bit uh…’

‘Holier than thou?’

‘Exactly.’ Arodan said, a sigh escaping him. He could hear Kassa stifle a laugh behind him. ‘It was fine but I wanted to travel and see Sornieth.’

‘Ah, I see. So how do I know you're not similar to the sort of people you grew up with?’ Estelle asked, finding the counter behind her to lean against. ‘You know, y’all seem to be keen on appearing better than the rest.’

‘Miss, the last few weeks I've got a few too many revelations, so I'm not going to argue with you on that.’ He soured a little at that but she was right. ‘How did you end up here?’

‘Same reason as you. I wanted to travel, I just sorta stumbled upon this place. Caer let me in.’ Estelle now sat on the counter and sometimes she leant to look around Arodan. Kassa must have been doing something behind him. ‘What about you?’

‘I fell off a ship and almost died.’ He said. At this point it wasn't really a particularly strange thing to mention anymore. ‘Atlas was the one who fished me from the ocean, I couldn't remember initially but after I collected my thoughts I recalled what happened before I was put in the cells below the castle.’

‘Ooh, that's rough buddy.’ She pat his shoulder from her spot on the counter and dropped off it in the process. ‘At least some shining white knight saved you.’

A knight was not the first thing Arodan thought of when he thought of Atlas but he digressed. ‘Yeah, it's good to be alive.’ There was a clattering behind him and he whipped around to see Kassa had dropped a pile of various types of armors at his feet.

‘I need you to fit all of these.’

At this point Arodan knew better than to start arguments with the generally more hard headed residents of Paramo. Fairly well was the proper description of it though because he refused to fit a few armors on the grounds of it being too much and that he needed something simple.

At the end of a long selection of armors he was left sizing up himself in the mirror wearing a fairly lightweight black one, decorated with swirls. ‘I like this one.’

‘You are boring as sin.’ Kassa hissed. They were perched on one of the racks, clutching their pipe between grit teeth. ‘At least you didn't pick a cape.’

‘A cape would be-’

‘Don't. Think. Of it.’ They pointed their pipe at him in threatening fashion, then put it back between their teeth in absentminded manner. ‘But this will do fine. Plenty of magical protection clings to this one and it will deflect most weapons for a while like it’s nothing. And I can probably decorate it a little because it's so plain now.’

‘Exactly.’ He could feel the armor whirring with the enchantments that were granted to it, and it felt safe. He pulled the necklace from beneath it and slung it so it hung visibly on top of the armor. ‘It has to be this one.’

‘I'd say it fits him fine.’ Estelle said, who stood at Arodan's other side. She currently was readjusting a shoulder plate a little. ‘I take you're going out there to defend the city from the approaching threat?’

‘I'd like to, yes.’ He turned his head so he could look Estelle in the eye and nearly got his shoulder plate rammed against his nose in the maneuver. ‘Call it dumb, but I feel like I should.’

‘I'm not going to call anyone dumb for wanting to save a place that for me personally, means a lot.’ Estelle answered. ‘I think there's a lot of us that share that sentiment. We have different ways of expressing it, and Paramo isn't perfect, but it's ours and we love it. If I was better at fighting I'd go out there but I've found I'm okay with making armor for those that do and staying in the city to be a second wall of defense.’

‘That's noble.’

‘It's normal.’ She fastened the shoulder way in a proper way and tutted at the fact it had been fastened the wrong way in the first place. ‘If you have a home, someplace you really care about, you should be ready to protect it. I didn't get to do that back in Dragonhome, many others weren't brave enough, we’re not making the same mistake twice.’

‘But what if you die protecting it?’ Arodan asked. The shoulder plate sat what better now and actually clicked into place with the other parts of his armor. ‘Are you willing to put your life on the line?’

‘Listen, if you're going out onto the battlefield with the intent to kill people you should be just as ready to die too.’ Estelle said, harshly almost. ‘Especially the people commanding all these soldiers that are willing to fight for their cause. Kings and commanders should be just as ready to put their life on the line for their people.’

‘That sounds amazingly reckless.’ Arodan looked over to Kassa for a moment and back into the mirror. ‘People need someone to lead them.’

‘She isn't implying you should throw a leader at the enemy, just that you have to rationally realize that if you start fights you need to keep in mind you could get hurt.’ Kassa shrugged and breathed out through their pipe with such a force it sent a cloud of smoke billowing up in rapid pace. ‘I myself believe in survival at all costs, it fits snugly into her little mantra.’

‘You all are kind of nihilist.’ Arodan grunted, and spun around so he could view his armor once more. ‘But I can't say I can't see the logic of it either.’

‘Hey, you don't just have to go along with it either.’ Estelle said, walking back towards the counter. ‘There's less heavy subjects to talk about like divination and to be fair I like divination a lot more as a subject. Or gem collecting if you don't believe in that sort of stuff.’

‘I'll let you try and predict my future sometime. Why not?’ He could see Kassa was approaching him again with a look that could only mean it must have been time to leave. ‘Gems, that's my kind of thing though.’

‘Good. Come back sometime for a casual conversation then and we'll talk fancy rocks.’ Estelle hummed. She watched as Kassa took off and neatly stacked Arodan’s armor and mentally she was already tallying how much she was gonna charge for it. ‘Stay alive for me will you?’

‘I basically just met you.’ Arodan grunted some more and near squeaked when Kassa dropped a heavy piece of armor they pulled from his arm onto his foot. ‘What about being prepared to die?’

‘Then stay alive for Paramo. Then you can come see me after this whole mess has been cleared up.’ Estelle wrote a small note and left it on the counter. ‘Forgive me for being grateful Kassa brings new people along. It's fun being around people.’

‘Fine. I'll do it for Paramo.’ He now had several reasons to stay alive for and now he considered it summing it up as doing it for the city of Paramo was probably the most concise way to put it. ‘That's what I'll fight for.’

‘Good. Knock em dead.’ Estelle leant to look around Arodan again. ‘You going out to fight too Kas?’

‘A strategist is usually useless on the field honey. But I'll be there.’ Kassa replied. They hauled the entire pile over to the counter and had Estelle tie the pile together as they paid. ‘I know what you're thinking and don't you dare die on me either. I'd like for this shop to stay in business.’

‘Oh, I won't. But I'm gonna pike me some lanternheads if the opportunity arises.’ Estelle cheerfully responded. She raked all the coins to her side once Kassa finished stacking the correct amount and dumped the entire stack into a drawer. ‘Even if we evacuate. The city’s on edge but not afraid.’

‘I noticed.’ Kassa glanced at Arodan and they handed him the heavy pile of armor. ‘Anyhow, we should be heading off again. Too much to show our newcomer.’

‘Yes, sure.’ Estelle nodded and was halfway into the backroom again. ‘Lemme know when you have time off again so we can run this shop together for once.’

‘Babe, once I have time again you're not going to get a letter I'll just come here directly whether you like it or not.’ They walked the other direction with a wide and sharp grin parting their lips. ‘See ya Stella.’ They pulled Arodan along so he stopped lingering in the shop and a faint goodbye in return could be heard as they left.

‘So, is everyone in this city like that?’ Asked Arodan as soon as they were back in the dark alley again. He struggled more to walk now with the added bulk of his armor which wasn't as much heavy as that it had been handed to him in an inconvenient manner. ‘This-’

‘Roughly everyone that isn't old or a child wants to fight yes. If everyone here picked up a weapon and went out there we'd outnumber near army.’ Kassa answered, this time quietly warning Arodan for any jutting tiles. ‘Not everyone is made to be a soldier however. Some people are more built to be battle fodder so it's better to protect them from themselves.’

‘I see. That seems like a dangerous predicament.’ He huffed. Hopefully that wouldn't be too much of a problem. ‘What made them this way?’

‘What an odd question.’ Kassa mused over it for too long and didn't initially seem to understand what he had meant. ‘Some have just been burned by life. Otherwise they are just folks who came here out of curiosity and never left. So, either life made them this way or they themselves are responsible for that.’

‘Right.’ The city seemed similar to the castle in that manner, he thought. They approached the exit to the Main Street but Kassa stopped him before they could head into it. ‘What-’

‘I’d rather not have you sharing my little trick with the feathers.’ They started, tilting their glasses down a little. ‘I'm cagey even with the little secrets, so, if you blab I will sew your mouth shut. Got it?’

‘Gods, fuck, yes!’ Arodan backed away and held his armor pile in front of him as if it was going to protect him from someone like Kassa. ‘No need to threaten me, sheesh!’

‘Good.’ Kassa pulled him out of the alley onto the street. ‘Now pretend like I never said that, will you darling?’

‘How am I supposed to do that?’ By their silence he could guess what they meant, so he didn't add anything to his question. Instead they walked, and chose to observe city life some more. The people around him varied greatly and even though the majority of the city must have been ice dragons he could still see there was a great diversity in the sort of people they were and what had influenced their behavior just by the way they walked or spoke to others. Even the way a baker argued with the next door undertaker was unique in its execution and it only occurred to him that he was staring as soon as Kassa had to haul him along by the shoulder again. ‘Kassa?’

‘What question do you have this time?’ They didn't turn to look at Arodan and instead dragged him into another street that seemed to have shops more specialized in knickknacks and toys of all kinds. ‘Do you ever stop?’

‘Not as long as I breathe.’ Arodan bluntly responded and immediately added ‘What do you know about the Shade?’

‘Oh, that is not something you should ask out in the open.’ They dragged him closer so he now walked practically wedged to their side so their conversation could be kept to whispers. ‘But I know as much as there is to know at the moment and that it's the most useful weapon one can have at their disposal.’

‘Weapon? Useful?’

‘If you know how to control it, it's useful for all sorts of things. Communication, offense, hands that don't tire from endless work…’ They seemed almost lyrical at that moment. ‘Why the question?’ They echoed his own words in almost mocking fashion.

‘I just sorta…’ He was a little scared now, he realized. ‘I want to know if you can still reason with someone who's fully taken by a shade infection.’

‘Oh, definitely no. The Shade is something you have to control.’ They noticed Atlas coming out of a shop in the distance. Good, he hadn't noticed them yet. ‘Someone like that isn't something you can reason with anymore. It'd be best to act then as if you're handling the Shade itself and not a person, and strike it down. Keep it on a leash.’

‘Got it.’ That seemed like the best answer at the moment. Maybe assuming all was lost in such a case would be the best option. For now Arodan chose to rush forward towards Atlas, so he could distance himself from Kassa as quickly as possible. ‘Atlas?’

‘Yo, Dan, got your armor already?’ His ears pointed up in excited manner and he turned to meet Arodan. ‘You should show me when we get back to the castle, I want to see it.’

‘Yes, I will, once Kassa is done decorating it.’ Arodan replied. He tried his best to tuck the armor under one arm so it wasn't in the way of his developing conversation with Atlas. ‘Is it time to head back already?’

‘Carmen and Epoch should be in the park by now, so not quite, but we can head over there-’ He searched through a large felt bag slung over the halberd he somehow was still holding, and retrieved a checkered board of sorts. ‘And I can teach you to play checkers. The pieces are scattered through the bag and it smells a little like garlic, hope you don't mind that.’

‘Well, that'll keep the bats away.’ Even if those didn't feed on dragon blood you could never be safe enough. ‘Let's go then.’

‘Aight, although…’ He came to stand at Arodan's left hand side and glanced over to Kassa. ‘Kassa’s giving you weird looks, so whatever you said to them, I'm gonna walk in between you two.’

Arodan only took a very brief glance at Kassa from the corner of his eye and they didn't seem out of the ordinary. It was when he got closer that he started to understand that their posture had bent in some invisible sense. ‘... Thanks.’

‘Tell me later what went down.’ On that note he headed over to Kassa, Arodan trailing besides him. It was as if a weight hung above him the entire walk back to the park that only barely lifted once they found Epoch and Carmen again, one that seemed to follow him to bed that night. Why, he wondered.

#my lore #The Paramo Court #ch: Arodan #ch: Atlas #ch: Kassa #ch: Epoch #ch: Carmen #ch: Estelle #sorry this one took so long school is killing me because it started again #next chapter will be up sometime this weekend too though because that's in the works and shorter

[zanpyreanor]

Stumbling upon the SOS

Zan sat hunched over his workbench in the workshop of the Pyreanor Gift and Boarding House working by the light of an enchanted lamp. The 5'8" tall freckled ginger paladin and inventor wore silky red pajamas, large red lensed glasses, and had not one but two thistle joints in his mouth--this was a two joint problem. His long train rested on the floor and his wings rested against his back, folded up nicely.

He looked over schematics for a big fucking spell gun, well, a spell cannon because it might come in handy someday. He pondered it as he put one of his prototype phoenix drones, Sunsoul II, back together after maintenance and an upgrade.

He turned the device on and it whirred to life. He grabbed its controller box, flipped it on, and for whatever reason the box began to scan frequencies. The ginger raised a brow at the frequency scan and looked to see if he accidentally flipped a switch.

The scan found the tail end of something. One of the little spell beads on the control box began to flicker on and off, but the ginger paid it no mind he investigated the box. He flipped the search lever and the box remained on that frequency. He set the box aside and examined the drone until he noticed a series of flashes from the controller box. Familiar flashes.

...---... ...---...

Zan's ears perked, his crest feathers rose slightly, and his train bristled up off the ground and rested parallel to the floor for a moment before lowering. His attention was piqued.

He grabbed the box, put it in front of himself, put the earpiece attached to the box on, and listened to the code. He grabbed his scratchpad and a stick of parchment and started writing out the letters he could make out. He turned on another switch and another glowing bead around the enchanted crystal display panel lit up indicating which repeater was broadcasting this message.

The message mentioned "The Kingly Dispute" in a way that seemed like a name, a name he'd seen before perhaps. Sounded like the name of a ship or vehicle, perhaps a shipwreck.

The repeater indicator noted it was repeater WTTBR. Western Thalassian Transcontinental Bridge Repeater, a large repeater on an island west of Quel'thalas which had two antennas, one which broadcasted and received signals across a wide area of Quel'thalas, and the other which used a high powered narrow beam directional antenna that was aimed precisely at the East Bilgewater Transcontinental Bridge Repeater at Bilgewater Port in Azshara.

This signal originated from Kalimdor. Zan put his tools away, grabbed his shrink ray from a drawer and slipped into the kitchen where the chubby white mage Iviaen Brightblaze was preparing fresh bread for the coming day.

The ginger spoke to the mage, "I'm going to need food stuff for a supply dump. Like the last time. Could you get that for me?"

The mage tilted his head, "Who are you helping this time?"

"SOS from something called The Kingly Dispute," the Ginger replied.

Iviaen frowned and thought to himself as he replied, "Alright but I have a bad feeling about this."

Zandrae shrugged, "If it is what I think it is, I've seen the bounties in the spire when I go in for my weekly briefings."

The mage opened the large walk-in icebox door, "And yet you're willing to help. Why?"

"It's not my job to decide who lives or dies. I'm not an executioner, and not responding is, to some degree, tantamount to execution without trial. Besides, dying a painful miserable death from injuries while stranded somewhere with no supplies is cruel and unusual punishment," the ginger replied. A devious smirk spread across his lips, "Besides, we'd be doing them a favor, perhaps for one in return later."

Iviaen canted his head to one side, "A favor?"

"Well, let's say we want to go hit the Dawnraker estate in Elwynn after we hit the one in Arathi. A Warden and Blood Knight and his people attacking a location in Alliance territory is an international incident that could result in an escalation in the conflict between the Alliance and Horde. But if someone who is already a public enemy does it, well, then it was criminals," explained the grinning fool.

Iviaen rubbed the back of his head, "Well that makes sense, I suppose, aiding wanted individuals for the sake of the greater good. The ends justify the means. Making sure that Ravennia and Elramir leave no one as a successor is a good idea. You're not going alone, are you?"

"I'm going to scope things out before I get anyone involved. Locate them and get them some supplies. I will also talk to Grand Inquisitor Sunfall, he knows stuff about things and I'm told he has personal stakes in our conflict. He might be able to brief me on what we're dealing with so I can help them in spite of their status," Zan turned to the door, "I'll fetch the stuff for the drop crate."

The ginger departed as Iviaen began cooking up a storm with the help of magic. The ginger delivered a couple of large square insulated black food boxes branded with the Sunpyre Innovations logo and some empty jugs then descended to the lower levels of the building.

Down in the basement garage, beyond the common garage area, behind a roll up door, Zan approached a cloth covered pair of devices. He pulled the covers off one and spoke, "Hello my lovelies." One of two dwarven biplanes he had stolen sat ready, its pilot's compartment was rigged with a device that allowed him remote control navigation.

He prepped that one for flight. Fueling, testing the engines, going over a mechanical check, and prepared the supply towing harness. He attached the harness to a pallet with crate bolted to it and then left it.

He got dressed in his armor, gave Tyan a kiss, grabbed his portal pass, a directional antenna, Sunsoul II and III, and their controller boxes, then set off for the spire. It was time for some signal hunting.

(What follows is loosely based on actual signal hunting which is a real thing. Some amateur radio operators do it for sport.)

Eventually he arrived in Orgrimmar with a tired look on his face. He got atop a tower and set up his equipment then took a listen and observed the repeater indicator. West. He then hopped the zeppelin to Thunder Bluff and toyed with the equipment as the flying boat traveled over the land. He glanced at a compass and scribbled notes on his scratchpad as they might come in later for calculations. Once in Thunder Bluff he noted the repeater indicator. North.

He sat down on the ground near some Tauren braves and pulled out a folded up map of Kalimdor from his pack. He found the location of the repeaters and from the information he recorded deduces a general area to search. He noted general areas where he had been hearing the signal off repeater. He tucked his supplies away then secured transportation to the Horde Outpost on Zoram Strand.

He fell asleep on the flight and was startled awake by a female Orc wyvern keeper that was terribly amused by the situation.

Dumbass sat in the outpost plainly in the sight of guards, and set up, map, phoenix drones, controller, radio, hand held directional antenna. He put on his ear peace, activated the directional antenna, swapped to the frequency, spun the dial slightly to go slightly off the frequency so it was unclear, then spun the antenna slowly until he could hear the signal. He turned the antenna until he lost signal.

He compared it's start and end direction with his compass and the map and drew an angle on the map with his graphite. He drew dotted lines from the readings to create more angles using the information he got while flying high over the barrens. The signal originated somewhere in the area where the angles overlapped.

He sent a ping signal to the device and noted the response time then scribbled some mathematics and put a point in the marked off area, an estimate of distance from his location.

Zandrae then scribbled a note, rolled it up, and tied it to one of the little phoenix drones, fired them up and flew them in the direction of the signal, one over the shoreline, the other about a mile out to sea. He could use them to triangulate on the broadcasting SOS.

He would eventually find the source signal and the two mechanical phoenixes could be spotted overhead circling like vultures as Zan notated their position on his map then they sat in a completely still hover.

The phoenix drones are about the size of a pet phoenix with horizontal props in the chassis of their wings, vertical ones on the front of the wings, and vertical props on the wing tips  that run parallel to the body of the device. They are, of course, painted like little firebirds. In the beak of each one is a gazing stone which allows Zan to see from the devices' perspective.

The device with the scroll took a nose dive towards the ground and stopped about four feet from the sand then began to survey the situation, looking for survivors, how injured people are, and if the survivors have resources nearby.

If it found a survivor up and about, the drone would fly over to that person, hover, and the props on the side of the wings turn on and alternate in their spin direction, making the drone playfully strafe horizontally back and forth before the survivor in a friendly playful sort of greeting as it waited for someone to claim its note.

The note reads. "Friendly. Supply drop to follow via stolen dwarven plane. Do not fire. Possible healers if you agree not to harm us. I can hear you through the device. -Z"

#It's long #the part to respond to is at the very end #the last few paragraphs #long post #long post is long #I wanted to write how it works #Because it's not magic #it actually has basis in real life stuff

[ajournalformybrother]

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 The light starts to subside. I open my eyes, only to find myself in a place of white and coldness - snow. My army boots dig lightly in the ground as I take a few steps forward. A high-pitched sound emanates behind me. Glancing, I realize the portal I used to get here closes with a final dazzle of light, leaving only the husk of its stone archway. No turning back now. It's cold. I'll freeze to death if I don't find shelter soon. Night is coming, I can tell, as the humongous moon I see above is currently beckoning the darkness to battle its radiance. Or is it? It is still bright, but not much. The sun is there, belittled by its sister on the other side of the sky. How weird. Majority of my supplies did not make it through. Just me, my clothes, the knife attached to my left boot, and the electroshock batons sheathed in my belt. How I wish my Rubik’s Cube made it through. I will miss it a lot. Unfortunately, these plain, black t-shirt and fatigues don't offer much warmth. I need to keep moving. I follow the snowy path in front of the archway, making sure that I keep my distance from the road to avoid any unwanted situation. My clothes’ color is against the snow, and I could only try to hide behind the trunks of these gigantic pine-like trees to avert myself completely from view. My right hand is slowly getting numb. If not for the years of training my lungs would freeze and eventually lose their purpose, too. I rest under the branches of a 'pine tree', hidden by its bulky trunk as wide as three people. My body is breaking bit by bit. I should have prepared better. But how? No one back there knew what lied beyond. People were sent, but no one returned. At first, many were trained; from childhood, that is, until the age when they are capable of handling their own. Apparently, only one person can fit through a portal, and only every two years can a portal be opened, so it's only the best of the best. For almost a decade they've been sending 'prodigies', not knowing what will happen to them or what the real purpose of the mission is. They are just told that "It's a different world," and I couldn't agree more, for I am the fourth prodigy. The fourth prodigy of a suicide mission with a one-way ticket, maybe. No. I need to survive. I've been doing that all my life, it's no different now. I’m watching the mists blow out of my mouth when I hear the sound of wheels turning, like that of a cart. I stand alert as ever despite the cold that will soon embrace me to death. The conversation is coming from the other side where the road curves on a snowy hill. I dash towards the tree nearest to the hill, pushing myself between the trunk and a large rock. Who knows what kind of creatures live in such place? "Is this where Hearthglen's Portal stood?" a voice of a man says. I'm surprised. There are people coming, and they speak my language. Half of me wants to reveal myself and ask for help, the other half pledges to do what I’m trained to do. The sounds of the wheels are louder now, almost in front of me. "You got that right," another man says. "It was built off-road, so if you want to see it we will .." "What? Leave our wagon here and risk it to wandering bandits?" the other intervenes. "We are a few miles away from the nearest town, scum! We need to deliver this or else we'll lose our jobs. No daddly-waddling." A low, bellowing laughter. "You are always overreacting, Dern. Bandits? Here in Lunasia?" This is it. They are close enough. I can still move my left hand. It's now or never. I leap from my hiding place and catch the two men in surprise. They yell in fear, and I almost, too, upon seeing their long, pointed ears, but I stick to the thing that needs to be done. I dash towards the one pulling the wooden cart and deliver a swift blow from my shock batons. A low grunt while electrified and he's down. Before the other man could react, I quickly shift my footing to strike his chest, electrifying and sending him kissing the ground. He's twitching. And there I stand between two unconscious bodies which I stare at for a moment. They are not ..human. Seemingly. Slender and a little taller, their faces are far beautiful for a man. Their ears are long and pointed, which almost caught me off guard if not for my conviction to steal to survive. Basing on what I read back in our world, these are Elves. The same Elves in movies, fairy tales, and books which everyone would think are parts of fantasy written for stories and entertainment. I figure that's no fantasy now. A sudden, cold breeze wakes me up to my senses. I grab the cloak of the first Elf. It is made of some sort of thick, white wool which I immediately wear and cherish along with the warmth it provides. I dart my eyes towards their wooden wagon. Its cargo is covered in a thick sheet of grey silk. I pull it and smirk at what I see - more cloaks, tunics, winter gloves, leather boots, weapons, bags, and other travel necessities all lined meticulously. Fashion here seems to be inclined in the Middle Ages. Plus, looking at these guys, I guess they are merchants. Lucky. Too lucky for me. I rummage at the set of clothing and grab my own - a woolen hooded cloak outlined in grey I tied in front of my neck, a fading white tunic I wear over my black t-shirt, and black silk pants I wear over my fatigues. Yes, I'll keep my original clothes with me, aside from my army boots, which I bury deep in the snow and are replaced with another black leather pair which gives more insulation. Dressing up like these Elves would increase my chances of not being discovered. I keep my hood on, though. I don't have long ears, which might break my disguise if ever sticky situations come to happen. Seeing a sword hidden in its grey sheath designed with feather markings, I quietly snicker as I put it near the girdle, just beside my batons. I made sure they are hidden underneath my cloak. I continue rummaging through the contents. No guns, huh? Good thing I trained in melee, too. Before I leave, I pull the Elves near their wagon, much to the protest of my arms. They won't freeze there, as I half-buried them in the things they sell. I at least owe them that much not to let them die in the snow. They'll wake up soon. I just hope they won't recognize or remember me when they do. I face the direction the merchants were supposed to traverse. More than a mile? I'll take my chances and head to the town they mentioned. If I would live my life here scavenging or ambushing people to survive, then so be it. I was taught to be unforgiving; to prioritize my own whatever the situation is. But still, I wasn't born that way. I pick up the silken sheet of the wagon and cover the cart along with the merchants. Sighing a deep breath, I continue through the snow. The road is seemingly endless, and it's getting dark. I've been walking for an hour or two. I really am grateful for being the luckiest person alive to encounter wandering merchants in harsh weather. I've passed through hundreds of these 'pine trees' already, and they are getting creepier. The ones around me now seldom have leaves, making them appear like tall, bald Christmas trees. The snow also starts to subside. I'm getting hungry. All the trees I've seen so far look the same; they have no fruits or anything. I tried to catch one critter in the snow which looked like a white rabbit with four tails, but it sprinted as fast as lightning the moment I took a step towards it. I then laughed at that decision. I can't cook anything in this weather, so catching meat is pointless unless I want to eat it raw. The only idea I think of is to steal until I figure out things on my own. I am treading carefully when I see lights in front of me. They are lanterns. I count three, slowly getting closer every second. I quickly move off the road and hide behind the trunk of one tree, with my head the only thing visible from the pavement. I want to see. This is getting repetitive. If I could catch these people off guard like the merchants I could scavenge for food or anything edible just to fill my empty stomach. I just need to wait for another opportunity to strike. The lights are about a block away now. The people carrying the lanterns are wearing the same kind of clothing as I do, but without their hoods on. A little closer, and my eyes are struck with shock as I stare at the passersby: three women carrying nothing but small leather bags hanging beside their waists. All have long hair, and what protrude from their upper heads surprise me as much as seeing the long pointed ears of Elves. The women have large cat ears. They stop parallel to where I am, and this allows me to notice their tails that waggle in the air like furry snakes. They are half-cats, no doubt. Elves are not the only ones living here then. "Come out, dear. We've seen you," says a playful voice of one woman as she turns her head towards the tree where I am hiding. I gulp at my situation. I pull my head back and start thinking. Or rather, start panicking. If they see me they would know I am different, and I can't figure what would happen after that. I can't just run. That would raise more suspicion. Taking a deep breath, I decide to come out of hiding, making sure I have my hood on. "I-I'm lost. Could you help me find my way to town?" I slowly walk towards them, studying their faces further. The ears of the woman in the middle flick as she raises her eyebrows. She then points at the direction they came from. "Town's right there. Just a short way after the curve," she says, her striped, beige tail suspended in the air. "Quite rare for someone to travel alone, especially during these times." I notice that the woman with a black tail to my right is looking at me intently, as if she had seen through my cloak and hood. "You smell different, and new," she claims, much to my surprise. "Can you remove your hood?" Knowing that my cover would be blown soon, I suddenly have the urge to fight, but considering that these cat women have keen sight and smell, I know that they have something more to their advantage. Mine was the surprise attack, and I lost it as soon as I saw their lanterns coming towards me. I have no choice but to oblige. I slowly pull my hood down and expect gasps or any aggressive reaction coming from the three cat women, but they seem aloof. "Oh, a Dryad. No wonder you smell different," the beige one says. "What brings you here?" "Stop the chatter," the woman with white ears and tail intervenes. "Move your feet. The carriages are still far." After rolling her eyes, 'beige tail' waves her hand and continues walking with her companions. Good thing they are in a hurry. Hearing my stomach grumble, I walk towards the curved path. A couple of minutes more and I notice the snowy ground fading to light brown dirt. There are small patches of green grass sprouting on the soil, which make me feel warm after realising that the sleets already stop falling. The bald pine trees are still there, though, but I see a few ones with wide, brown trunks and fresh, light green leaves. The environment is starting to shift, it seems, as I figure I'm traveling away from the snowy region. I continue to walk, careful to stay away from the road. Wouldn't want another encounter with this place's peculiar inhabitants again. After a while, looking a distance away, houses made of wood, bricks, and what appears to be thatch greet me from both sides. They come in different shapes and sizes; the ones nearest to me are small and have only a single story, while there are very few with second floors and such. I shy away towards a hill and hide behind a tree, peeking at what seems to be a small town. From where I am, I see some of the houses circling a tall monolith wrapped in thick, grey vines with blood-tainted leaves. The sight of it gives me chills. The road goes beyond that, covered by a wide bungalow which looks like a town hall of some sort. Oil lanterns hang on numerous wooden posts scattered throughout the town, providing enough light to push away the impending night. Everything follows a Medieval theme, and as I hold onto the sword sheathed to my belt, I can't help but wonder if I traveled back in time or not. Aside from the crimson monolith, another thing that makes me shiver in both awe and shock are the townspeople. No one looks human to me. Absolutely no one. I can sight the occasional Elves, the ones with cat ears, and a few short, composed men with long beards that stand a little below an average person's chest. Dwarves, it seems. Which makes me wonder ..what kind of world is this? There are too many varieties of mankind compared to ours, which is divided only by ethnicity. I feel my soul tremble as I realise I might be the only Human to exist here. Still, watching the townspeople do all sorts of things; trading, eating, talking, laughing; things that you'll see in a typical town, makes me think that somehow, a bit of this craziness is normal. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it in a long burst of white mist, I begin studying the pathways of the small town. The main entrance is connected to the road where I came from, and it goes to the center where the monolith is. From there it branches to at least three more roads, two on opposing sides and one going through the town hall, which I figure extends farther, though I'm not sure how far. I can't determine the exact size of this town unless I climb a tree - a thought I shake off. Still, there's no higher ground than the hill I'm standing on, so I decide I need to get closer. My eyes then dart to the numerous alleyways between the houses. Those would be perfect spots to hide while I learn how things work here. If I'll be lucky again I can steal a thing or two from a passerby. I just need to be really careful not to draw attention to myself or else I'm better off as a boy frozen to death in the snow. "Help! Somebody!" A girl's voice. A young girl, east. Keeping my hood on, I sprint towards the sound, which came farther from the town. Passing through the shadows of the creepy trees, I arrive at a small lake surrounded by fruit-bearing shrubs with white leaves. A couple of lanterns hung on the branches, providing light around the area. As I hide again behind a tree, for the 'nth time' since I came here, I see a young Elf trembling, a fallen straw basket turned upside down lying near her feet. She has short, blond hair and wears a moss green cloak over her brown tunic. Berries of some sort are scattered on the ground, and as I look at them I notice that the girl's right foot is trapped between a raised part of the snow-faded soil, as if it magically came to life and clamped her limb in it. "Help! Please, somebody!" She begins to cry. I'm about to approach her when two figures leap from the branches of the tree parallel to where I am. For the 'nth time' again I am shocked of what I see: they look like Elves, but with grey skin and dark eyes. They seem to be the darker version, I suppose. Both are men and are carrying swords curved like fish hooks. They are wearing leather vests with buttons in the middle as opposed to wool, which the townspeople (and me) possess. "Ohooo-hoo. A fresh kill," says the one with dark hair reaching his shoulders. I can't help but to cringe at his shaky voice. "What do you have there, little Elf? Wandered too far from town?" "Please please. Let me go. I was just picking berries," begs the girl, trying to pull her foot away from the clamped soil using her hands. "You grow those berries yourself, don't you?" says the other dark Elf with a pointed chin. "We could've used someone like you." "No, please no." The young girl’s tears bathe her face now, a sign of her dread and nervousness. The two dark Elves walk towards the trapped Elf, laughing and swinging their hook swords wildly in the air to further scare her. As soon as they are a couple steps away from the panicking girl, I jump out of my hiding place and quickly unsheathe my batons, electrifying the long-haired one as soon as I reach them by surprise. A loud grunt is heard as the other dark Elf tumbles away from me. His companion lies knocked out on the snow-faded ground. "Vus servor!" the remaining dark Elf yells. He then stomps the soil with his boot, creating a small fissure that crawls towards me. I figure that whatever magical ability this is, it might be the same one that trapped the girl behind me. As soon as the crawling cracks are a couple of meters away, I gather my momentum and strike my sword to the ground, using it as a leverage to strike the dark Elf with my baton. I hit his chest, and we both fall to the ground with a hard thud. I immediately rise and walk towards my sword, which is now clamped between the solid soil. I try to pull it with all my might, but my young arms won’t let me, so I just leave it be. I then face the coughing dark Elf lying on the ground. He’s still shaking. He's groaning. When I'm a foot away from him, he looks at me with his light eyes. My hood doesn't cover my face anymore, it seems, as he appears shocked as he sees what I am. Or is it because he fears for his life? Nevertheless, I ready my batons and strike him on his chest. He yells in pain and lies with his back on the soil. He then passes out, his mouth still wide open. I walk towards the young Elf, who's trembling in fear. Her hazel-brown eyes are shaking as I approach her with my hands and clothes dusty and bruised. Halfway, I suddenly feel a burning pain on the left side of my body - my stomach. I look at it, only to see a horizontal wound that tears through the cloth, revealing my bleeding flesh seemingly covered in what seems to be dirty ash. I must have been slashed when I leaped at that dark Elf. I feel weakened, and my head starts to spin. I try to stand using my weapon as support, but slowly, my body turns heavier than it should be. I reach the young girl when I feel a sudden explosion inside my head. My eyes become the heaviest things, and I can only hear my body hit the ground as darkness takes the whole of me .. -End of Chapter 1: Arrival