Mostly reblogs of whatever catches my eye. Critters, nature, astronomy, funnies... and occasionally pretty pretty men for me to ogle, and occasionally m/m stuff. I try not to reblog things that are too graphic, but browse my archive with caution. Most stuff is found on the web and is not mine nor do I claim it. My personal posts are usually tagged "AudBal's personal stuffs" or "AudBal's days off" If you see something of yours you don't want me reblogging, just send me a message and I will remove it, no muss no fuss. :)
David Gandy looking debonair at the 2016 Olivier Awards.
Presenting the awards for Best Costume Design and Best Set Design, David was charming and gorgeous in his grey velvet (created in a blend of Loro Piana silk, cashmere and cotton) evening jacket by Chester Barrie. David is pictured with co-presenter Jessie Buckley.
"Daijoubu ka, kotora?"
Ramere blinked a few times, and found himself looking into jewel-toned eyes. He wasn't used to meeting anyone's eyes level with his... especially when it was a woman talking to him. "Um... huh?"
Sarantha smiled faintly. "Are you alright?" She didn't think he would appreciate being called " baby tiger" so she kept that bit to herself, though she saw her brother's lips twitch slightly out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh.. um, yeah, I guess. I mean... no worse off than yesterday. Its already starting to heal up..." He glanced down at his right arm. Or where his right arm should be. Instead, a half-healed, singed stump sheared off just above where his elbow should've been. Funny how it still felt like he had an arm there.
Sarantha did not press further; she was merely assessing physical injuries. She patted his uninjured shoulder and moved on to check other survivors.
They were alive. Barely. A few nights ago, he would not have believed it possible even the small few scattered across the hillside would be alive. His mate, well, one of them, had quite literally lost his mind. He didn't didn't know what had triggered it. The resulting chaos was... well. The pack leader managed to contain the raving beast, the man Ramere thought he'd known, dragging him as deep back into the demon realm as could be, ensuring neither of them would return. But the damage had already been done. Almost the entire pack wiped out. One or two had managed to flee the massacre, disappearing into the forest.. most who escaped outright death at the hands of the hybrid, ended up perishing in the massive fire that claimed the whole estate. The fire had to be magic-induced, jumping from main house to outbuildings, rushing through the underground tunnel networks.. hot enough to even melt stone and brick.
Ramere glanced over the flattened grass. This sparse handful were all that made it. He wasn't sure how, but the few story bits he'd picked up was Sara and Silva had taken their dragon forms, snatching up all the packmates they could before flying clear of the disaster area.
Silva, Sarantha's twin brother, was aiding the doctor, Julian Keening, as he tended injuries. The tawny-haired healer had only arrived at the mansion the night before everything went to hell in a hand-basket. What an introduction.
There were a few others. A silent, stand-offish vampire patrolled the perimeter of their make-shift camp. He'd no doubt had the beautiful copper skin of a Native American before he'd been turned. The pallor of vampirism had taken over, but a hint of pigment lingered, giving his skin an intriguing golden blush. He was lovely, but barely talked to anyone.
Poor little Jesse curled by the fire, shivering, wild mop of curls tangled and matted with dried blood, his tattered clothes caked with the same. The first time someone had dared approach him to help clean him up, he'd shrieked and fought like a man possessed, until Dr. Keening had had to sedate him. The little shapeshifter had sustained hefty internal injuries from silver weapons, thus, was not healing properly. He would be lucky to survive another few days. He hadn't even been trying to fight, just get out of the way. He hadn't succeeded.
Ramere's eyes dropped to the body laying out beside him, watching the older man's eyes flick back and forth beneath his eyelids, caught in dreaming. Uncle Fellon, who'd raised him from infancy, when he was well within rights to leave a cub who wasn't his lying in the mud to die.
Except that was a lie. Uncle Fellon had a few skeletons in his closet.. like a one-time affair with the secret love of his life: his brother's mate. Well, like they say... once is all it takes. Ramere wasn't really sure how to handle the whole notion of Uncle Fellon being Daddy Fellon.. ugh. It made their relationship sound like it went from slightly questionable to downright perverted.
To be fair... Fellon hadn't known, either. Sarantha was able to literally taste their relationship in their blood, and a quick blood test later by one of the other healers on staff at the mansion had confirmed it. Fellon was Ramere's biological father. And his uncle, since Ramere's mother was Fellon's sister-in-law. It was all very V.C. Andrews.
Speaking of Fellon, he's started abruptly, and sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "Ramere....!"
"I'm here." Ramere was quick to announce himself, reaching out with his good hand to assure the other man. "It's alright. We're all okay..."
Well, that was a lie. Even the survivors were most decidedly not okay. Barring the loss of so many that had become friends, nearly everyone here had lost a mate, something everyone here had been told was not survivable. Yet, here they all were. Still breathing. Broken, battered, bloody, and lost... but still breathing.
The rest of their pack had not been so fortunate.
Fellon, after the nightmare image of his nephew -no, his son- being engulfed in flames trying to reach his mates, lay back on the crushed grass, staring up at the stars. They hadn't traveled very far from the mansion site; he could still see the faint glow of flames in the sky. It was an enormous building, almost as expansive underground as it was above ground. It would no doubt burn for days. There would be no emergency personnel.. no firefighters at the scene, except to make sure the fire didn't spread through the forest.
Sleep completely escaping him, Fellon slowly sat up, taking silent inventory of his health. He was bruised, singed in a few spots.. but he'd escaped the chaos relatively unhurt. He was damned lucky. They all were. The small handful laying around the tiny campfire were the only survivors. Oh, he was certain a handful of the demons had likely managed to escape back to their own realm.. but the rest? Lost.
He looked Ramere over. His long red hair was tangled and singed. He still had a few traces of soot on his cheeks. Minor injuries were already well on their way to healing. "Ramere... " He murmured lightly. "Are you really? Okay, that is." Fellon sighed, scooting a bit closer to the other tiger. Everyone here had lost someone close to them, but Ramere had lost not one mate, but two.
"I, um..." Ramere started to parrot he was fine, but the words stuck in his throat. "I'm just... I don't really feel much right now..."
He was probably in shock, Fellon decided. he glanced around the rag-tag camp, and spotted a pile of things that had been salvaged from the burning rubble of the mansion. He worked up to his feet and limped over, grabbing a blanket and taking it back to throw around Ramere's shoulders, before plunking back down beside him and letting the taller shifter lean wearily against his shoulder.
"I don't... I don't understand why," Ramere began, before his throat closed up.
"Me either, kid," Fellon answered honestly. "The last few days have been a complete and utter clusterfuck. Without even the courtesy of a bit of spit for lube."
At least that made Ramere snort a little, before he sobered again. "It's just that, he was so calm. Settled even. I - I thought he was happy."
"Someone like that is never happy," Sarantha's voice, accent a bit thicker with emotion, drew Fellon and Ramere's eyes. She was sitting with Jesse, who's breathing had become fast and shallow. She gently cradled the curly head on her lap, swallowing when the same man that had taken both her and her brother to hold down while Julian had administered sedative, now only gave a shudder at the slight movement. Staring into their small fire, Sara sighed faintly, as she carefully placed her hand over the boy's mouth and nose. He was too injured and too weak to struggle, only raising a shaking hand to her wrist. "There was no part of his soul familiar with softer emotions. Trust, empathy, compassion... caring. Completely alien to him. How could it be expected of him to exhibit emotions he knew nothing about? In the end, he was the monster everyone had always claimed him to be." Jesse's hand fell away from Sara's wrist. His body relaxed, his features smooth and calm, and looking so ridiculously young, Ramere had to remind himself the lynx shifter was several decades his senior. "W-why did you do that?" Ramere managed to ask. "We could've -"
"He was beyond help, kotora. As your mate was beyond help. Jesse was hurting beyond anything we could have done to help. I chose to ease his suffering." Sara sighed faintly once more, carefully easing Jesse's head back onto the rolled blanket they'd put down for his pillow. "I think, at this point, and given what I have learned about mating bonds... I would offer to do the same for any who asked me."
It was on the tip of Ramere's tongue to ask the dragoness to ease his suffering, too... except he saw Fellon's mouth open and close, as if he were about to make a comment as well. He bit his lip, and leaned toward Fellon, nudging him lightly. "Hey... Dad. " Well, that got his attention, blue eyes wide as he looked toward Ramere. "We're gonna make it, yeah?"
Fellon blinked a few times, a bit of the cloudiness of anguish clearing from his eyes. "Y-yeah, Fellon murmured. "I think... I think we might."
===
Once people were sufficiently healed to travel, the tiny group made their way to the closest shoreline. Ships took much longer, but were much easier to stow away aboard.
Silva and Sarantha, were set on returning to the land of their birth, since neither one had actually seen Japan since they were still very small children.
Dr. Keening simply looked up and down the coastline, pretended to taste the wind, and started walking, content to find his own path and disappear.
Avinash, Cherokee by birth, opted to join Fellon and Ramere on their trip back to the states. It had been too long, he said, since he'd walked the land of his forefathers.
America had changed quite a bit since Ramere had been there. There were actually... cities... dotting the wilderness he vaguely remembered from dreams. It was like he hadn't been here at all.
The trip overseas was a little rough - especially cramped into slots behind storage crates that had Fellon sweating bullets, but they managed it. Avinash vanished the moment full dark settled, wishing them both a good journey.
After a while, the area had cleared enough to safely escape the cargo hold, and soon, Ramere was standing on U.S. soil for the first time, in.. well, ever, because technically, the wilderness he'd been born in had not been part of the United States at the time.
Fellon chuckled, giving Ramere a little nudge to snap him from his stupor. "Hell, you were just a tiny cub when we ran out of here, kid. I didn't think we were ever going to be back, truth to tell... would've told you more about it... "
Ramere just nodded dumbly. So much land stretching toward the opposite horizon, absolutely no end in sight. And apparently completely packed with people. Wow. They could probably disappear forever.
Still... day to day living wasn't free. "Wh-what are we going to do, n-now we're here?" He frowned slightly. "Will it be like... before?" Before, when Fellon kept them both from starving by offering himself to anyone that would pay. Except, Ramere wouldn't let Fellon take the entirety of that burden, if it came to that.
To his surprise, and great relief, Fellon had laughed. "Hell no, kid. I'm done with that." He smirked faintly. "Besides, you're a big boy, now. You can help out with expenses too.. and damned if I let you go into that line of work." Ramere opened his mouth, probably to argue that if Fellon could do it, he could do it, but Fellon kept talking. "No, I got in contact with some family, lives in California... he's going to get us squared away." Fellon smiled. "Should've called him three years ago... but I'm a stubborn ass." Ramere didn't argue, and Fellon gave him a nudge in the general direction of the road. Well, let's go, kid. California is a long fucking way from here..."
Was it ever a long way. Would've been hours by plane... but they hopped, skipped and jumped across country anyway they could for free... mostly hitching rides. Sometimes, Fellon would "pay" for the ride (usually if the driver was particularly attractive, male or female). Ramere quickly learned, though he'd lost two mates and an arm, he was still young and far from dead, meeting a cute young log hauler with puppy brown eyes and quick easy smile that made part of the trip cross country go way too fast. They'd parted ways at the California state line, with a hot kiss and a phone number clenched tightly in Ramere's good hand as he'd watched the loaded semi ease back onto the interstate from the rest stop.
"How much longer?" Ramere new he sounded whiny as a kid, but his feet were killing him, and his stomach felt like it was going to eat its way to his backbone. "I'm about ready to kill for a cheeseburger... maybe just the cow covered in cheese with some bread across her back..."
Fellon chuckled, shaking his head. "Living in the lap of luxury made you awfully soft, huh?" Ramere made a face at Fellon, and the older shifter laughed. "Not much further. Keep your stripes on."
Ramere gave an overly dramatic sigh. "Fine," he grumbled, but there was a faint smile on his face. Fellon wasn't quite as much of a pain in the ass as he used to be. He supposed he could handle the old man's company for a little while longer. Truthfully, he could probably take off into the woods to hunt as a tiger. Fellon could, too.
To be honest, thought, Ramere was a little afraid of shifting at all, at the moment. He simply was not sure what would happen with his body, not sure how his tiger would handle being without a leg. If it was something small, like a toe or finger, maybe an ear... shifting would've regenerated the missing piece. But a whole limb? That was beyond even the wonders of shape-shifting. Not knowing how things would go, Ramere preferred to wait until they had safe haven, before letting his tiger out.
The two of them talked about random things as they walked, Fellon mostly telling Ramere about what this part of the country was like before Ramere had been born.
"People hadn't settled past the Mississippi back then," Fellon was saying. "This was all wild land... unclaimed by any but the Natives who were already here..."
"Um... how did we end up in this part of the world, anyway?" Ramere asked, absently kicking at a pebble. "I mean... tigers aren't exactly native, you know?"
Fellon gave a little shrug. "We got here the same way the first people did, I suspect... the land bridge. If I remember the old stories right, the first tiger shifters were hunting the humans.. our ancestors got stuck here when the climate started to warm up and the waters rose up over the bridge."
He kept up the stream of conversation to keep them both distracted. Fellon didn't want to think about the last few years. Didn't want to think about sweet mate he'd lost when the burning upper floor collapsed on him as he tried to run through a doorway toward Fellon. He knew Ramere didn't want to think about his losses either. Best to move on, to forget and carry on. Best to leave the past in the past.
Fellon was in the middle of a story about his brother, Justice, when they crested a small rise in the road. They were at a decent elevation in some foothills to a higher mountain range - there was an overlook site, a wide area off the side of the road where tourists could park to observe the lovely scenic view. A sleek, black limousine was parked there; almost out of place in the countryside. Ramere guessed some rich folks out for a scenic drive. About the same time the car came into view, the suit-wearing driver slipped from the vehicle, moving around to open the back passenger door.
Ramere instinctively hung back, even though Fellon continued forward, a smile slowly curling his lips. Two other men eased out of the car. The first one matched Fellon's height, hair as sleek and black as Fellon's was wild and white. A perfectly tailored suit hugged his body like a lover, and Ramere couldn't help but stare, even as he kept his distance, hesitating like a cat gone feral.
The man joining the dark haired one was also beautifully dressed.. but so delicately small, Ramere might have mistaken him for a small woman, or even a child. He had a glorious shaggy mop of rich red hair, making Ramere smile in spite of himself, and even from a distance, he could tell the little man - no doubt fae- had the most gorgeous dark green eyes. The fae must have felt him staring, and gave him a bright smile.
"Ramere. Come on, kid." Fellon urged him forward, after a brief embrace with the dark-haired man. "This is family. Our cousins. This," he nodded toward the man with dark hair, who's eyes matched Fellon's almost exactly, "is Douglas Hawke... and his husband."
Ramere approached as if in a dream. Family. For so long, it had just been Fellon. Then...the pack, and his mates. Ripped away. The little redhead gave Ramere another bright smile, stretching out a hand in greeting. "I'm Thomas. You must be Ramere."
Ramere looked down at the smaller man for a long moment, that smile beating at him like sunlight fighting its way through clouds. Ramere made a little hiccuping noise, and promptly collapsed to his knees, good arm going around Thomas' waist as he finally cracked, sobbing horribly into the fae's chest.
Fellon looked at the bewildered fae, sighing helplessly. "I'm sorry. It's been a.. rough few weeks." He chuckled mirthlessly. "It's been a rough few years, really." He glanced toward Douglas. "I was a stupid ass. I... I'm not asking much... just a bit of help til we're back on our feet..."
Douglas shook his head. "You're family. Family takes care of one another."
Fellon swallowed harshly against a lump in his throat and blinked away stinging in his own eyes, nodding shakily. After a few long minutes, Thomas was able to coax Ramere off the ground and into the car, where the tall, exhausted man curled into as small a ball as he was able to stay close to Thomas, sitting on the floorboard to rest his head against the fae's knee. Thomas didn't attempt to dissuade him, but was noticeably baffled, even as he petted the long, copper hair soothingly.
"One of his mates was fae," Fellon softly offered a possible explanation as he and Douglas slid into the spacious backseat last, settling in as the driver returned to his duty, turning the key and easing the big car back out. "That's probably why your presence is a comfort to him."
Thomas nodded, looking down at Ramere. "It's alright now. Everything's alright. You're safe, and we're going home."
Seriously... so mad I’m just about a hair’s breadth away from this just being one long expletive after another. It was bad enough that I was lied to, for no other apparent reason than to lie. It was bad enough that photos were pulled from sites like shutterstock and such and passed off as personal photos, again for no other apparent reason than to lie for the hell of it..
BUT YOU ARE STEALING PEOPLE’S PERSONAL PHOTOS. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??
baratheonpilled
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
prguitarman
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
