“Don’t steal that one, steal this one.”
i’d like to thank my mom, this pony, that hot chick in the stands, & the academy
this child is on my always reblog list. also ^so is that comment
Teen Wolf AU ♦ In a world of thieves, wizards and dragons Stiles is being captured for belonging to a species that has wings. HIs captors have the intent to sell him to the whoever pays them the most. Before they can reach their destination he is freed by a thief who claims that he wants to help him.
For the play “having wings doesn’t mean you can fly” between allhalebrokeloose and redhoodiesandbats (x)
Stiles woke up to harsh winds and loud voices, the creaking of wood and grinding of metal. His cage was shaking and jolting as people were pushing at the cart it was bound to with heavy iron chains, the horses pulling it neighing loudly as a whiplash teared through the air.
Obviously they were having trouble, the cart stuck and only slowly sliding forth under the force of five men and two horses pushing and pulling at it.
Stiles lifted his head a bit and put it down immediately again, not daring to move any more. His wings were still bound, the hemp rope that was tying them to each other and to his body pressing uncomfortably hard against his skin. He had almost gotten used to how it felt when he didn’t move his wings and there was no burning pain that shot through his whole body. His wings were sensitive, probably the most vulnerable part of his body, and having them bound like this was torture.
His hands were in heavy iron shackles, resting tight against his wrists and directly connected to each other. He didn’t know if he actually still had wrists beneath the metal with the way they always scrubbed against his skin, but it didn’t feel too good. On top of that they were glowing a faint blue, only visible when it was dark around them. It was the only visible sign of the fact that those iron restraints were magical objects that had taken all of his magical abilities and left him unable to cast any spells. He would actually have had a chance to escape if those shackles hadn’t existed.
The cage was made of wood and steal and he was bound to it even though he could hardly move without anything causing him pain. He was dressed in linen pants that were way too thin for where they were going and the way it got colder and colder around them every day they marched. The shirt he had worn was hanging around him in shreds, not doing much against the cold either. He could have wrapped his wings around himself for a bit of warmth if those people weren’t too afraid to leave him with the ability to fly even though he was trapped.
Sometimes when he was asleep and shivered too hard, the cold getting too much he would be lucky enough that somebody threw him a blanket before he died. Other nights he would try to move his wings in his sleep, pressing against his restraints and wake screaming from the anguish.
He had stopped to count the days and usually he didn’t even sleep anymore. He just fell unconscious every now and then for indistinct periods of time.
He fell unconscious as someone rattled the cage enough for his whole body to tremble and tense in agony.
Every time he woke up he was somewhere else, but he couldn’t tell where they were going or what they wanted to do with him. Once he had tried asking and the man who whipped the horses had hit him, his shoulder and wings burning from the impact. A second time he had been kicked. A third time never happened.
Sometimes, when they thought it was too bad they gave him something to drink or eat, but there were times that didn’t happen in days.
After some time, Stiles didn’t know how long, he almost wished they would finally arrive wherever they were headed. He didn’t know what would happen there, but it couldn’t be worse than what was already happening to him. Unless they wanted to cut his wings – he didn’t even want to think about the possibility.
Stiles knew that his kind was seen as rare outside the groves they were living in and he feared that was what had gotten him into this situation.
One day he woke to turmoil. They were in a cave and Stiles could see the twilight of dawn outside. It couldn’t be long until the sun would illuminate the cave and engulf everything in golden shine. He had loved to watch that happen before he had been captured, but ever since it only meant that they were about to move on and moving on meant more pain and more discomfort.
Someone was yelling something he didn’t understand and there was the unmistakable sound of weapons clashing against each other. Stiles jerked his head up and grit his teeth as he felt his shoulders ache. There was blood at the place where the fire his captors had lighted for the night was dying, but none of his captors was there. If they were under attack and if whatever killed them or was busy killing them would emerge from this dispute victorious, he would be defenseless against something he didn’t yet know of what it was. As bad as these people had been to him, he didn’t know what anyone or anything else would do. Maybe they’d kill him and he was still very fond of living. Wanting to live on and the faint hope that he might be able to escape or end up in freedom by sheer dump luck was basically everything that had kept him going.
He tried to get up but fell back to the dirty ground of his cage almost immediately, his forearms bracing him as he was panting heavily. His body started trembling from the pain the movement had caused him and from the slowly fading echo of it. He was trying to lie still and let the worst of it pass, not realizing that the noise behind his back had died out and everything there was to hear were faint footsteps.
If only all the Oscar speeches like Walt’s !
did you just combine two of the greatest things?
this works fucking perfectly
omg cas meeting misha would be like a puppy meeting an owl
$5 says Misha would hit on Cas for fun
$10 says Misha would end up making Castiel feel as uncomfortable as Cas makes everyone else. ”I don’t understand why you’re so close. Could you step back a little? You should talk to Dean about personal space. He can explain it. Misha? Misha, please. Remove your finger from my nose. This isn’t funny.”
“I don’t understand. Why is your index finger in my nostril?”
“shhhh put on the cheese dress”
Misha would suggest an orgy.
So I was talking to my dad about supernatural and I told him it was a show that has demons and angels and mythical creatures and stuff and how it is sometimes gory and scary and so I go to watch the next episode I am up to, and dad’s watching and it’s fucking this one
- netfics: just like netflix except it’s fanfic professionally acted out and produced instead of tv and movies
- icdb: international commercial database, like imdb except for commercials so we can find out who all the cuties in commercials are
i smell a worthwhile kickstarter
netfics is just gonna end up being porn isn’t it