Original We The Damned - Secret Santa for Icarus Rex (Original, Part 1/3)

[PuddinPop]

Rexski  

I am your Secret Santa this year! I'm really sorry this is a bit late (read: a lot late). I got really busy over the holiday period, and was sick for a huge chunk of it, so progress on this was waylaid, but here is one part of it!!

I gotta say, when I read your form, I was like "IS THIS MY FORM??" because we are into exactly the same shit, dude  it made this a lot easier to write, I think, and also made it more enjoyable that what I'm into is what you're into as well. I have also got to admit to being majorly intimidated in the best way, because you're so amazing and deserve the best things, and I'm just over here like WEH. But I hope I can do this justice xD

There isn't a great deal happening here, and for that I apologise, but hopefully the next parts will make up for it, and the tags aren't too much of a giveaway.

This will become clear as the story goes on, but this is an original fic about two dragons (glamoured for the majority of the time). They have a mentor-mentee dynamic, one of them (the mentor) is very old and the other (the student) is young in comparison. 

Abel isn't exactly NB, but their gender is never determined or mentioned. I figured they were more male-leaning/masculine, but I never state their gender. They are they/them/their throughout this fic, which could potentially get confusing with the narrative. But the majority of it is from Abel's POV.

Cain is a guy  He's he/him/his.

Without boring you too much with the minor details, I shall get on and post it, and pray that this is something like what you were hoping for. Happy holidays, you magnificent bastard.

 

~*~

It had been a long time coming.

Ever since that they had met, they knew that this would happen eventually. It was the nature of their species - those born a draconian must live and die a draconian - that once they hit a certain age, they had to be trained in the basics for survival. They were not renowned for their friendliness, and were highly sought after by humans and other creatures alike. ‘Hellspawn’ was a word often used, and whilst it was not one that they themself would have chosen, it was arguably reasonably accurate. 

The specifics of the ‘training’ didn't even really seem to matter all that much anymore; it had been a planned occurrence for so long, under so many different settings, scenarios and visionaries in their mind that when it came down to it, nothing could be disappointing.

Or... well, maybe that was being generous. Maybe they'd hyped it up so much that everything was going to be a disappointment at this stage. 

Where they currently were - in some random forest in Buttfuck Nowhere, TN - was perfectly imperfect. The trees huddled around them, dead and withered as though they had grown that way. 'Born dead' was a phrase that they thought of often. The limbs were ominously sable, silhouetted against a bleached white sky even in daylight hours, reaching down towards the foliage that littered the floor, belying the assumption that they had once born leaves. They reminded them of withered hands, reaching down as though trying to finger the earth and pull Hell from its very foundations up into the surface world but not quite making it. Yet. Was a fucking lot to be thinking about some trees, but here they were.

They could have handled the desolation, the bony-handed trees, even the brittle temperatures, but what they were currently standing in the thicket for, pinching the bridge of their narrow, elongated nose between a thumb and forefinger, sighing exasperatedly, was-

"Hey, Abel!"

-that.

The five foot ten inch bundle of wonder that was their ‘apprentice’. Though they hated that word more than anything, because they were not teaching him a trade. They were teaching him how to survive on his own, so he would know what to do if anything should happen to them. ‘Student’ would have been much more appropriate. ‘Pest’ would have almost got it and ‘nuisance’ would have hit the nail on the head, but thoughts that like always made them feel kind of bad. Because it wasn’t the kid’s fault that they ended up lumbered with a brooding sack of grumpiness with a resting bitch face. 

But three months of torture, three months of barely sleeping, three months of continuous questions, idle conversations, pleas for 'exploring' or lamentations of boredom. Three months of pure torture, basically, had led them to be slightly – okay, majorly – bitter. More so than usual, if such a thing was possible. Especially when they had been out in the wilderness for three fucking days and the fucking chipmunk had shown no signs of improvement. Fuck his whole ass.

"Abel, hey! You listenin'? Look what I found!"

No, they had not been listening. But it was rude to point that out (apparently; they had done so before and were met with a highly hostile response). They had no idea why they still continued to ignore the gadfly, knowing that he was as persistent and tenacious as they came. Was in his blood, so to speak - which was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing they technically shared the same blood – so Abel couldn't begrudge him that, but it still set their heckles up in all the wrong ways sometimes.

Which was arguably unfair. They knew that it wasn't a conscious choice for either of them to have wound up together, but what could they say; they were too soft sometimes. Seeing the kid (so he wasn't technically a kid, but when one enters triple-digits in age, everyone is a fucking kid, sue them) orphaned, alone, and potentially endangered seemed to flare up their protective instincts and took him (almost literally) under their wing.

"What is it, Cain?" Abel eventually answered, releasing their nose from their grasp with a deep sniff and turning to see the spritely, freckled face of their student. Yes, their student was called Cain. And they were called Abel. Cain and Abel. Though they personally preferred Abel and Cain. They swore, if one more religious nut-job made one more fucking comment about it, they were going to bludgeon them to death with a Bible. Cain came bounding over seconds later, a sprig of some sort of plant with a long, thick stalk and a bloom of yellow flowers nestled between his fingers. Abel just cocked a brow. 

“A weed?” they snapped, not intending to display more irascibility than usual, but unable to help themselves. They’d found their tolerance for their student waning more than usual the past couple days. And Cain looked suitably offended by the question. 

“It’s not a fucking weed, it’s an agrimonia. I just sniffed it out.”

He was clearly awaiting some kind of accolade, one which Abel wasn’t all too interested in offering. Because the runt could sniff out a fucking flower in a fucking forest with nothing around them for fucking miles. Did he expect a candy or something? After a beat of silence, Cain spoke up again.

“It’ll help keep us safe.” And, more quietly this time: “Because we definitely need it..”

Abel bristled, stopping in the task of splitting the dead, earth-fingering trees to make kindle in favour of turning and addressing their student. There was a flicker of fire behind their eyes. 

“What are you implying?” they demanded, tongue sharp. Cain just sidled around to be next to Abel, eyeing them critically. His chestnut hair fell into his eyes, but there was enough to be seen beneath it to detect that he was scowling. 

“Abel, you needn’t lie to me. I know you’re sick-“

“I am not sick!” Abel instantly snapped, defensive. His eyes honed on to Cain, flashing red with the warmth of hellfire, before they settled back down, and he resumed his task of splitting timber. Their little camp was looking bleaker by the day, and with rain heading their way, they needed some semblance of warmth. In a quieter tone, but with more venom, Abel hissed, “We of our breed do not get sick.”

Cain had since faltered at Abel’s side, having backed away a step or two. His expression was apprehensive but there was a notch of concern woven somewhere behind his features. Because he had noticed the slight weighted edge to Abel’s voice since the previous morning, how they had ‘overslept’ and rose after the sun for the first time since he’d met them, how they had only merely picked at the dinner that Cain had successfully caught for them. He’d had his suspicions for a couple of days, but it had only been confirmed that day by the persistent-

“..h’ghGXT’!..uh!”

-sneezing coming from his mentor. When he chanced a glance, Abel was huddled over once again with their nose pinched between their thumb and forefinger, around their nostrils this time as opposed to their bridge. They were blinking quickly in the aftermath, removing their hand before sniffling repeatedly, the sounds relatively dry but resolute. And they resumed their task shortly afterwards as though nothing had even happened. 

“Uh-.. bless you.”

The sound caused Abel’s head to snap up and eyes glowered in Cain’s direction.

“I have told you before, it is of no worth to bless me.” Cain opened his mouth ready to speak, but Abel cut across him before he could. “We are born from Hell, therefore we cannot be blessed.” They turned their attention once more back to the timber, that was starting to collect in a neat fire-pit. “Such words are futile.”

Cain just wilted a little, having spent most of his adolescence with a family of humans, therefore finding some of their habits hard to break. Apparently blessing sneezes was one of those. His eyes never left Abel, however, sympathy playing out plainly across his face.

“Then, um-.. damn you?”

That earned an aggressive eye roll from Abel but the subject was subsequently dropped in favour of them continuing to erect their camp for the night.

It took another couple hours before everything for their sleeping conditions was prepared adequately to Abel’s standards. The older dragon had sneezed sporadically throughout the chores and had even coughed once or twice, but dismissed it instantly whenever Cain mentioned something. By the time they had finished, the sky had morphed from its bleached-white to a hazed amethyst, promising nighttime in a matter of minutes. Abel was laid flat on their back, as close to the roaring fire as they could get without being burned, their whip of ebony hair falling across their shoulders and chest. Cain was sitting upright, tending to a pot of broth that was intended to be their supper. Even in the dim light with shadows dancing against their features in flickers from the fire, Cain could see the distinct twitch of Abel’s nose, the quickening cadence to their breath. It took mere seconds before their eyes drifted loftily closed, a hand reached up to pinch their nose, before-

“.. h’gd’XNT!.. uh!”

It was similar to the sounds they had been emitting all day, but one thing had changed. A thing that forced Cain’s eyes to widen, skin to pale, jaw to drop. Because, he could have sworn that was-..

“I-Is that... smoke!?”

Because no sooner had the sneeze been detonated had there been a small plume of smoke seem to wisp and rise up from Abel’s nose. It was relatively small and dissipated into the air as quickly as it had manifested, but Cain had seen it. Abel, apparently, hadn’t, because they had still yet to open their eyes, their brow still furrowed, nose still twitching fitfully as their breathing continued to waiver. They apparently hadn’t even heard Cain ask the question, too engulfed in the ominous prickling in their sinuses to pay it any heed. It only took another deep inhale before Abel’s hand snapped back to their face, unable to move quickly enough to pinch their nose this time and expelled a much less restrained-

“..hi’IHDZSH’uh!!”

-against their palm. And this time, there was smoke. Not just a small wisp either, but a larger billow, that circled around before Abel’s face until it drifted lazily up into the atmosphere, having no interest whatsoever in sticking around. Cain continued to stare as Abel blinked into a recovery, sniffling now against the back of their wrist that was crushed cruelly against the underside of their nostrils. And this time, when Cain spoke up, he spoke much louder.

“Dude, you’re sneezing smoke.”

There was a powerful glare from Abel as they snapped their head to the side to look at Cain.

“I am your superior, Cain, not your ‘dude’,” they spat, before rolling back over onto their back and closing their eyes, both hands sliding beneath their head. “And my health is not of your concern. An effect of the weather, I’m sure.”

Rolling over so their back was facing Cain, they continued. “You may have my dinner and then you will sleep. Do not disturb me unless there is danger, do you understand?”

A beat of silence as Cain just stared at the back of Abel’s head, a knot of concern twining inside his gut. Because Abel never passed up a meal. Though his silence wasn’t met well, and Abel soon snapped, much louder-

“Do you understand!?”

They still hadn’t turned to face Cain, but he nodded meekly, whispering that he understood. And he did as instructed and did not disturb Abel, given there was no danger. Even though he wanted to, especially when the growls started coming, low and guttural at the back of Abel’s throat, how the wings briefly flashed before Cain’s eyes when Abel was unable to mask his true form any longer. Not even when he started shouting in Gaelic, a language long-since forgotten and only spoken by the haunted and the damned. Even then, Cain did not disturb Abel, and let them sleep until morning. Even though he hadn’t managed to get a wink of sleep himself.

[Icarus Rex]

Oh my god, Pudski. My hero. I just finished mine .2 second ago and have to run out the door, but I gasped aloud when I saw that you had tagged me! (I mean, I shrieked a little, but i don't need the whole internet to know all that...)

Sorry if it's gauche as fuck to leave a comment before I've read a single word, but thank you, in advance! I'll be back to yell properly, soon.

[Icarus Rex]

Okay, I'm back now and ready to double post--- ooooh, someone tell an admin.
 

Quote

I have also got to admit to being majorly intimidated in the best way, because you're so amazing and deserve the best things, and I'm just over here like WEH.

Oh my god, that is so sweet, but while YOU'RE over there saying "WEH", I'm over HERE saying, "Wow, a gift for me from Pudski, wow wow " so I really hope you weren't stressing about it. I appreciate you taking the time, especially since you had a lot of other shit going on. I know it's so hard to sit down and write-- on a deadline-- when everyday life is fucking HAPPENING, so I really appreciate it! Hope you got some time to chill over the holidays, on top of everything else.

Anyway, about this fic: I'm pumped that you got to write what you like and explore this universe for this exchange! I'm curious to learn more about these characters and where they're coming from, etc., and a stark, deep-forest setting is really cool. (Full disclosure: I started typing "tits out for the occult" and then I was like "that's not very good feedback", but please know that I'm whispering "tits out for the occult" in my heart while I read this. )
 

Quote

Their little camp was looking bleaker by the day, and with rain heading their way, they needed some semblance of warmth.

 

This is the kind of thing that would be so miserable IRL, but it's JUST MISERABLE ENOUGH in fiction that I'm like, "WOOOOO THAT'S BAD AND OMINOUS, TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE..."

Quote

Cain just wilted a little, having spent most of his adolescence with a family of humans, therefore finding some of their habits hard to break. Apparently blessing sneezes was one of those. His eyes never left Abel, however, sympathy playing out plainly across his face.

This is such a cute bit of backstory, as well. I like the idea of him adopting little mannerisms from a human family and not realizing they're wildly inappropriate to use among non-humans.

The clash of personalities between these two is good, too... Cain's unwavering enthusiasm and Abel just thinks he's the ultimate dweeb to end all dweebs, oh no. I'm curious to see how that all works out, down the road...

Also, let me tell you: THOSE SPELLINGS... holy shit. There's such a restrained desperation to them and I can "hear" that so clearly. ADDITIONALLY: a generally haughty/reserved/authoritative character stifling until they just can't is like... the holy grail. The ultra jam. I... love that shit. I really like how you laid out the whole lead-up to that moment here, too, ah...
 

Quote

“I am your superior, Cain, not your ‘dude’,” they spat, before rolling back over onto their back and closing their eyes, both hands sliding beneath their head.

I laughed out loud at this... the image of Abel, like... disdainfully saying "dude" is too much. What a complete and total grouse. I like them.

Speaking of which, I enjoyed the way you alternated between this very evocative, occulty prose and then threw conversational phrases like "resting bitch face" on the table. I was so caught off-guard by that, but I liked it a lot.

I've also never thought too much about fantasy transformations in a fetish context, but I'm into it... like, the concept of someone trying to physically hold a certain form together is some good shit. Accidental shapeshifting in a moment of weakness? Cool. Nice.

Thanks again! I'm stoked to see where you go with this.