#and then by the end they’ve both got matching blood tattoos along with their matching anti-possession ones

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about angel banishing sigil tattoos on Sam & Dean, but in order to make them effective, they have to be tattooed with their own blood. Which apparently leads to the body reabsorbing the tattoo after a few weeks, so they’d have to do it constantly to stay safe. Sam & Dean committing to this ritual every few weeks… tattooing themselves in their own blood or maybe even each other’s…

[divineluce]

A Fae-ted Encounter || Athena & Luce

Timing: Monday, September 14th

Location: The woods outside White Crest

Tagging: @athenaquinn & @divineluce

Summary: Athena and Luce meet up for a morning run that quickly goes awry.

Athena had not necessarily expected to hang out with Luce outside of the whole getting a tattoo experience, no matter how much she had found their conversation to be enjoyable. So when Luce had mentioned a love for going for runs, Athena jumped at the chance. She found getting out and exercising to provide a certain thrill only matched by an especially good hunt or a particularly engaging textbook. It was early - just before six a.m., and the smell of the forest was calming. She began to stretch while she waited for Luce - and the feeling of her knives against her hips was comforting, as always. It was the easiest place to keep them during a run, since her running shoes didn’t provide a great deal of coverage. Particularly not as far as weaponry was considered. She had always been one to have a desire to be prepared, and this guaranteed that. Finishing up a second round of stretches, she looked up to see Luce approaching. “Hey! How’s it going this morning? Glad we were able to find the time to go for a run.”

No one ever talked about how much stress fucked with your sleep schedule. Luce was no stranger to sleepless nights, but it seemed like more often than not, she was stuck staring up at the ceiling of her room or drawing designs until her wrists ached and the sun had begun to break through the blinds of her window. Which was why she was going for a run now-- coffee could only do so much and fuck, going for a run with one of the kids she tattooed? She’d done weirder. Parking her 4x4 alongside the road, Luce stretched briefly against the side of her car before jogging towards the place they’d agreed on meeting up. It was a familiar trailhead to her, one of the many she frequented. “It’s going, it’s going. Nothing like a run to get things going though.” Luce said with a nod, tying her long hair back up in a ponytail. “Yeah, for sure. I haven’t run with a partner in a while, so it might take me a minute to match pace.” She warned, and tilted her head at the woods. “Let’s hit the trails, huh?” She grinned before setting off at a light jogging pace, just to get the blood pumping. 

“I agree completely!” Perhaps her voice held just slightly too much enthusiasm, but Athena found that she didn’t care all too much. Not to mention, that sort of behavior was likely exactly what Luce might have expected, given what she did know about her. “Not a worry, I have a few friends I run with sometimes, but I’m flexible.” She flashed the woman a grin, carefully observing her. This was an entirely different context from the last time that the two of them had hung out, and she was curious if Luce’s behavior would change in any way. She didn’t so much mind whether or not it did, she’d found her to be pleasant to talk to both in person and online, and more people to go for runs with was never a bad thing. “Let’s go!” Athena nodded, matching Luce’s pace. “Do you have a favorite trail or spot to go running? I know that I sometimes will change it up, but I think that’s carryover from sometimes not wanting to ever sit still as a kid. As much as I can deeply concentrate, I also have a need to move and see different things. Despite being small, this town does manage to provide that. On a tangential note, I hope we don’t see any moose today. That’s not a fun time on a hike.”

Raising an eyebrow at the girl’s tone, Luce decided to take it in stride. Literally, she grinned to herself at the idea. As they began to run through the woods, she kept her strides nice and measured, really focusing on just letting her muscles move, the blood to flow. It wasn’t as hot as it had been in the middle of July, thank fuck, but her natural body temperature made running in the summer a bitch. As she ran alongside the girl, Luce was reminded why she didn’t typically run with other people. People liked to talk. people liked to chatter and make small talk and she just… didn’t give a shit about it. She barely gave a shit when she was at work. But, hopefully talking more would help her stay awake. “Eh, mostly just the places around my cabin because it was closest and most convenient to me. But, there are a couple places in the national park that are pretty. There’s a cool trail that leads into a whole field of wildflowers-- it’s best in the spring, but still. Not a bad spot year round.” Luce lengthened her stride a bit, picking up the pace as they wound through the woods. “Oh, fuck no. I’m so not down for a moose run in.” She said with a shake of her head. Her silver knuckledusters were tucked into the discreet pocket in the waistband of her leggings, but those wouldn’t be enough to stop a moose, not at all. She’d just be hightailing it up the nearest tree if they ran into one.

She hadn’t doubted the woman when the two of them had discussed going for a run, but Athena was pleased to see that the woman kept up with her - was arguably a better runner than she was in some ways, though she was not too keen to admit that just yet, if at all. “That makes sense. I run on Harris Island a lot too for much of the same reason - it’s home for me, and though not the woods, it does provide wide and open space to go. Though sometimes I go through town.” Sometimes, and she’d run into banshee screams on more than one occasion. She wasn’t going to focus on that right now, though. “That sounds wonderful! Not sure if I’ve been on that trail before, but it sounds like a good place to go.” The two of them continued to make their way through the forest and Athena had to hold back a small giggle at Luce’s remark about the moose. “Though I’m not always opposed to them, they certainly are not on my ‘must see’ list ever.” There was a bit of an incline as the two of them continued through the forest, the morning air cool and calming - which was one of the number of reasons why she enjoyed this time of day as much as she did.

“Harris Island, huh? Too bougie for me.” Luce said, as they continued along the forest trail. Sure, Harris Island was pretty, but she hadn’t been back there since she’d dealt with… August. And Lydia. Her expression turned dour at the memory. That fucking bitch. She’d sworn her to silence about what they’d done, bound her, like she’d bound August. Fuck. “I’m not a big fan of the mega mansions they’ve got chilling out there. The Common’s not a bad place to run around town, though.” She added. As they made their way through the woods, Luce focused on her breathing, making sure to keep it nice and smooth. This particular trail was just a quick 1.5 mile loop, but she was still feeling the effects of her sleepless night. If she’d been in better shape, if she’d been less tired, she might have noticed the rustling in the bushes, the way the birds seem to quiet around them. But, as it was, she just kept running. 

“I mean, I still live with my parents. You are not wrong about it being a bit bougie, though I like being right near the ocean.” Athena shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it too.” She noted Luce’s change in expression and fiddled with the end of her hair for a moment, giving a small murmur of agreement at her words. “Oh yeah, The Common’s great!” When there’s no fae flocking around, but she kept those thoughts to herself. They were making their way steadily around the trail when Athena all of a sudden felt a shiver run up and down her arms as she skidded to a halt. So much for fae not ruining the hike. She turned to look at Luce, before looking back at the bushes, a rustling sound becoming more and more clear before she could spot ears. Shit. “We might have a bit of a problem.” She took in a deep breath, focusing her attention. The iron cold on her hip. 

“Nice. Must be lucky living out home.” Luce remarked, the comment sounding offhand. But, a part of her meant it. The recent wound of her mother, turning her back on the three of them, was still raw, still open and painful. She hated her mother for what she’d done to them, hated her father for never standing up for them, but she couldn’t shake the sadness that came with losing them. She shouldn’t feel so fucked up about it. She didn’t regret what she’d done. She’d done what was right. Even if it came at the cost of unclean hands and of losing the people she loved most. Before she could get too in her feelings about it all, Athena came to an abrupt halt. Taken off guard, Luce stumbled to a stop but managed to right herself. “What? What’s up?” She asked, looking at the trees around them.

“I am lucky, but I also love my family, so I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Athena shrugged. She wouldn’t, would she? Shaking any sort of thought like that out of her mind, she refocused herself on what was actually going on. Namely, the giant gosh darned fae-dog that was just off in the bushes. “Don’t move.” She gave a small nod, the creature standing up now. “It’s a - well. It’s not a normal dog.” Cù-sìth, she thought, her mind whirring as it often did, as she’d been trained to do. “You see that, right? Large dog. Very quiet.” She huffed. It might not be quiet for long. 

“That’s more than fair, for sure.” Luce nodded in agreement. After all, family was why she still lived at Bea’s. She could be back at her cabin, she could be staying there right now in fact. But, since they’d been cast out of the coven… there was a part of her-- a part of her that she refused to show to her sisters-- that wanted to keep what remained of her family close. All of those thoughts were pushed out of her mind at the girl’s words. Scanning the woods around them, Luce’s eyes fell on the giant dog that was lurking in the bushes. It wasn’t a wolf, so not a werewolf, but she wasn’t exactly familiar with every beast that ran around the woods. “Yeah, I see it.” She said, her hands resting on the waistband of her leggings, feeling the curve of the metal tucked in her pocket. “What’s the plan? Back away slowly?”

She didn’t know how much Luce knew. Athena remembered that the woman had grown up in this town, but she also knew that none of that guaranteed knowledge of anything. It made her job both easier and more difficult, but right now she wasn’t going to focus on anything but Luce and getting her to safety. “Good.” She nodded. “That’s - backing away is good, but these - they’re real fast when they want to be. Might not look it, but they are. Can be.” The cold iron of her knife was incredibly appealing but she couldn’t bring it out just yet. “You - we don’t want it to howl.” She whispered to Luce, taking another few steps towards the woman. “That’s not good. It’s - their howls aren’t normal.” She looked over at her. Athena knew that she’d be fine, but as fae as she was aware, Luce wasn’t a warden. “They are not the friendliest of dogs.”

As she stared at the creature, Luce was able to see that there the “dog’s” fur was green, with tufts of what looked like grass sticking out in clumps. “Is there any reason why this thing looks like a Husky fucked a hedge?” She hissed, as she tried to back away from the dog while discreetly pulling the knuckleduster from her pocket. But, her leggings were just a bit too tight and the weapon remained stubbornly tucked in her waistband. Christ. A dummy thicc joke went through her mind briefly, but it was quickly pushed out of her mind as the creature began to stalk towards them, hackles raised. “What do you mean their howls aren’t normal?” She asked, but before the girl could answer, the dog was already opening its mouth, a horrific howl coming from its maw. Instantly, Luce went to her knees, clasping her hands over her ears, but that couldn’t keep the bellowing sound that had already pierced her skull. 

“Because it’s one of the worst kinds of dogs you could ever see.” Athena admittedly had to smirk just slightly at Luce’s comment. Well, if that was anything to go off of, then perhaps she would have an easier time convincing her that this thing would be better off dead. “I mean that -” before she could respond, the creature had howled and though Athena knew it would have no sort of effect on her, Luce wouldn’t be so lucky. “We’ve got ten minutes max until it might howl again. Sometimes - there’s some ways or cases when people die after three howls.” She knew that she was talking faster than normal but she had to get all of the information to Luce as best as she could. “You - it’s going to make you feel afraid, but that’s okay. It’s - well,” she pulled one of her iron daggers out of its resting place against her hip. “I might have a solution. It is the only way to deal with this. It could do a lot of harm to those in town if we let it get away.”

The howl was the worst thing she’d ever heard-- and Luce had sat through more shitty fucking local bands at Soul than she wanted to admit. Fuck. It was as though her blood had gone cold, while at the same time, her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her goddamn chest. Fear, the overwhelming sensation of dread, of terror, of the urge to run as fast and as far as her feet could take her from that thing filled her chest. “F-Fuck!” Luce managed as her hands fell to the earth, clawing at the dirt. Heart pounding, eyes daring wildly, she stared up at the girl with unseeing eyes, too overwhelmed by sheer terror to do much more than stare. But, she saw a flash of metal, a knife. Was she going to hurt her too? Was she going to attack her like that fucking hedge husky? Fuck. Blue flames ignited in the dirt around her hands, a reflex, a means to protecting herself, even as the fear clung to her.

This wasn’t her fault, but some part of her thought that maybe she should have been more careful. Athena glanced between the cù sìth and Luce. Luce, who now had flames around her fingertips. Spellcaster? Or something else, Athena wasn’t quite sure at first. Holding the knife out toward the dog, she knelt down next to Luce, careful not to touch the other woman. “That thing over there causes fear. It’s doing this to you on purpose.” She wasn’t certain if Luce would even fully understand what was going on, but she needed the woman to know that she wasn’t going to hurt her, but that this creature was going to do a lot of harm if one of them didn’t get rid of it. “Fire might not do much, though it is a good idea,” she said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

Luce’s gulped in air, taking it in with rapid, panting breaths. The thing, she couldn’t see it, couldn’t tell where it had disappeared in the brush around them. She wanted to wrap herself in flames, protect herself from that thing. Its howl still rang in her ears as her fingers dug deeper into the earth, as though the gesture would ground her and keep her safe. As she struggled to control herself, Luce was able to catch the snippets of words-- Athena, Luce remembered her name through the oppressive waves of fear. It wasn’t just dread, the lingering howl rattled in her mind and she could hear voices. Screaming, in pain, begging for something to end. Bea. Nell. Ulf. Remmy. Nadia. Morgan. “No. No, no, no, no, no.” She said, curling up in on herself as she tried to ignore it. But, the flames around her grew, blue tongues curling around her arms now.

The woman was having an anxiety attack of some sort. Or at least that was what it seemed like to Athena. “Look. I’m not going to hurt you.” She didn’t know how much of what she was saying was getting through to Luce, so she kept repeating it, in different ways. They didn’t have much time to act. “Will that keep you safe?” She queried, looking down at the fire. For a brief flash of a moment, she found herself wishing that she could give the other woman some immunity to the creature just like she had. But if that wasn’t possible, ridding the world of it was the next best thing. “I can make this stop, if you’d like. I can - your fire might be able to help too.” Her voice held a certain sort of gentleness that surprised even her, but if that was what it took, she would gladly comply. “One blow to a major organ of that thing using my knife and we’ll be free. It won’t hurt you or anyone else.”

Dimly, Luce could see the way that the girl looked at the fire that was winding up her forearms, coiling like snakes around her biceps. “Y-yeah.” She managed, doing her best to try and calm herself. Her heart was still racing, her breathing still too quick. Her head felt strange, like it was going to fucking… pop off or something. Christ. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck that dog and it’s fucked up howl. Gritting her teeth, Luce staggered to her feet and looked at Athena. “How? And… why aren’t you..?” Her voice trailed off as she gestured to herself. The girl hadn’t even missed a beat when the creature had howled. How?

She wasn’t supposed to tell others what she was. That was practically a cardinal rule back home, but she knew she’d messed that rule up a number of times, be it on purpose or on accident. But she knew what Luce was, or had some sort of idea, and it was only fair for Luce to know what Athena was, too. “I’m a warden. I would appreciate it if you kept that to yourself, but that’s why it is not doing anything to me. It is a form of fae, but it is going to do a lot of harm if we don’t take care of it as soon as possible.” She looked over at Luce. “Your reaction is normal for anyone who isn’t fae and isn’t a warden. We need to deal with it… soon. It’ll likely howl again soon, and that’s not good for anyone.”

As the girl explained just why she was able to withstand the fucked dog’s howl, Luce’s eyes widened. A Warden? That was some kind of hunter, right? She had no idea that there were specific hunters that went after different shit, but sure, that worked. She could roll with that, as long as Athena could fucking handle it. “Okay. Okay. W-what can I do to help?” She asked, hating the way her voice stammered with fear. She was better than this, she was fucking better than this. Clenching her fists, she did her best to rein in the flames a bit, just to keep them away from the girl. She doubted that wardens were fireproof. “I can… set fire to things. Or blow shit up. But I don’t know where it is.” She said, her eyes darting around the forest around them.

“If you want to keep it trapped, that might do us both a lot of good.” Athena bit her lip. She looked over at Luce carefully. Even if she was one to sometimes rush into things, even she could tell that right now was not the time for that. “We don’t want it escaping, but maybe blocking it so that it’s got no choice but to come towards me. That could help.” She analyzed the scene around them quickly - doing her best to take in as much of it as she could. Doing her best to think a few steps ahead. “Setting fire is good.” She glanced around them. “I think…” she closed her eyes for a moment, letting her skin feel cold. Doing her best to embrace the feeling. “It’s by those trees,” she said, upon opening her eyes. “I can see its tail.”

Swallowing, Luce shook her head in an attempt to get the ringing out of her ears. She could light shit on fire. That was all she was good for and she sure as shit wasn’t going to stop doing it now. Glancing over at the girl, she frowned when she saw that Athena’s eyes were closed. What the fuck..? Some kinda fucking Spidey-Sense bullshit? Hunter stuff? Whatever, as long as it worked, she wasn’t going to argue with it. Flicking her fingers in the direction Athena had told her, the trails of flame flew from her arms and slithered across the ground. The twin snakes of blue ignited the brush around them, sending fire and smoke into the air as Luce directed the magic to create a circle around the beast. “W-what now?” She managed as she brought one of her hands up with a grasping motion, sending the blue flames up into the air. Her fire, it was flickering, not as powerful as it usually was, and it took every effort to keep her grasp on her magic. 

“If you can help.” Athena repeated. “If you can help at all, we can corral this thing and we can be rid of it.” She ran her fingertips along the knife, savoring the feeling of the cold iron. Just like always. It was comforting, though she knew well enough not to voice that to anyone. She was good at playing the part of normal, and even though Luce clearly knew something was up now, she didn’t have to act in the same way that she could act at home. In fact, Athena was acutely aware of just how much she shouldn’t act that way. Luce, though she clearly had some powers of her own, was still human, and that meant Athena had to do her best to protect her. To make sure she was safe and well. “It’ll be quick after that. I’m good and I’m fast, and then you won’t be afraid anymore.” 

Gritting her teeth, Luce nodded. “I can do that. I can… do that.” She managed, though the words were more to reassure herself than Athena. Sucking in a deep breath, she nodded as the beast began to snap and bite at the flames, as though it was testing the boundary. She urged the magic forward, feeding the flames with power that made them rise higher into the air, their cobalt tongues dancing among the brush. The creature let out a yelp and scampered back into the center of the circle, its tail low and hackles raised as it spun around, searching for a way out. “Go get ‘em, Tiger.” She growled, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hold this for very long. Her magic was intrinsically tied into her emotions and fear like this, the primal urge to run? It made wielding the flames incredibly draining. 

Although Luce was clearly terrified, Athena had to appreciate how willing she was to jump right into action. She made a mental note of that - for the future, at least - one never knew when something like that could come in handy. Right now was not the time to focus on the future - right now she had to focus on getting rid of this thing. Whatever Luce was doing was working, and Athena let a breath out. “On it.” She said, and under any other circumstance she would have flashed a grin towards Luce, but the other woman likely wouldn’t respond to that right now, and so she kept it internal, her face professional. She took off toward the creature, permitting a smirk to cross her face as she came closer. “You can’t hurt me.” She giggled. “You can’t do anything to me.” The creature stood by her. It had been just over eight minutes, which meant it might howl again at any point. She had to stop it before that happened. “I can, however, do a whole lot to you.” She held tightly onto her knife before digging it into the creature’s chest, praying that she hit a vital organ, and grinning when it collapsed onto the ground. Turning around, she rushed back over to Luce. “It’s gone now. It’s not going to hurt you. Or anyone.” 

Keeping the circle of fire going without letting it burn the girl was hard, harder than Luce wanted to admit. But, she was going to make sure that fucking terror hound was gone. And if Athena said she could deal with it, she’d believe her. Just send in the blonde kid with a knife, no big deal. She watched as the girl circled the creature, stance just as predatory, before darting forward and plunging the knife into its chest. And then, it was over. Like that. Releasing her hold on the magic that was straining from her grasp, Luce let out a sigh and slumped back down on the ground. The howl, that fucking howl, it still had her messed up. But at least it was dead. “Nice.” She managed, wiping the sweat from her brow with a weary hand. “Fuck.” Luce muttered with a shake of her head. “Thanks for that.” She said not really sure what else she was meant to say. Thanks for shanking a fucked up dog? Thanks for being chill with the whole fire thing? Whatever.

She was hesitant to touch Luce, and so Athena instead settled for kneeling next to the woman, making sure that she was still breathing. The cù-sìth was dealt with, she didn’t have to worry about it surprise-attacking them. “Thank you. I - well, I don’t usually lose if I put my mind to anything. Be it something like this or an exam.” She wasn’t sure that her attempt to lighten the mood would have the intended effect, but so long as the thing was dealt with and Luce was alive, that was all that mattered. She found herself relieved that Luce also didn’t seem opposed to her hobby. “Oh - yeah, of course. It’s what I do.” She pulled her knees up against her chest and looked over to Luce. “We should get you home, probably. It’s - well, the - that cù-sìth is gone now. It’s - you’ll be alright.” She offered her a small smile. “I appreciate all the help you provided too. Nice team up, if a bit unexpected. Certainly not how all of my runs end.”

Not the type to lose, a perfectionist, huh? She sounded like Bea. Luce shook her hands out, dusting some of the dirt from her palms. Or… well, how Bea had used to sound. Her sister hadn’t been the same since everything that had happened. “Well, sounds like I lucked out big time.” She said and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She was absolutely wiped and it was only what… fucking 8? Christ. She still had work, still had appointments to keep. “Yeah, thanks. I need a big ass coffee, but I think I’ll be good after that.” Luce nodded. “No problem. Obviously, I’m not a hunter-- witch, duh-- but I’m not a fan of shit like that kicking it in the woods. I’m happy to help.” She said, before letting out a wry laugh. “Definitely not how they tend to go. Either way… thanks, Athena.” She said offering a slight wave of her hand before heading back to her car. Who’d have fucking thought? The semi-neurotic blonde who’d stepped into Ink Inc, a hunter? Whatever. She’d heard of weirder shit. And at the moment, she didn’t really care to question it, not when the girl had saved her from getting turned into dog food. But still… Who’d have thought?

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt.6 (E.D.)

Summary: Ethan finds out about Y/N.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, talk of depression and blood and miscarriage

Word Count: 2300

Hurt - Series Masterlist

There are moments in life when time stands still. When great fear and anxiety arise, our brain and body tends to shut down to protect ourselves from the trauma.

For Y/N, it felt like every time she opened her eyes she found herself someplace new.

First, it was on the porch, tucked into Grayson’s arms as he carried her away. She couldn’t hear much aside from the pain that spread through her stomach or the ringing in her ears. She felt his chest vibrating as he spoke but nothing resonated with her. She clung to his scent, the woodsy, grass-like smell he and Ethan would have after being outside all day for it had comforted her.

Second, she was in the back of the car, her vision blurry and her mind hazy.

Third, she was in the hospital. She couldn’t say or do much, but she knew what she needed.

“Henstridge. Doctor Henstridge.” Once the nurse nodded, she allowed herself to close her eyes. It was just enough to keep her strength, to rest up and focus on her surroundings. But she didn’t really want to. She didn’t want to hear them say she’s lost the babies.

There is an infinite amount of things she’d offer the universe for her children to be safe, but none could compare to the guilt she felt. After all, her initial thought was to end the pregnancy when she learned of it. Was this her punishment? Was it a way to tell her she had caused it? Now when she accepted this unexpected change? Now when she loved them?

And where is Ethan? Why does he seem to be gone whenever things go wrong in her life? He started the fire and he didn’t stick around to watch his work as everything she is made of burned to crisp.

She managed to survive losing him, but losing the babies? She didn’t want to survive that.

“So, what now?” Grayson sighed as doctor Henstridge concluded his exam.

Y/N had begun coming to, something she’ll be very thankful for later on because the last thing she wanted is for Henstridge to be the one conducting the exam. She just wanted his expertise, his presence as a way to anchor herself. He was more than helpful the first time around.

“I gave her some medication and we’ll run some tests. She has to stay in bed, with no stress.” Edward turned to her, noticing her eyelids are moving but the medication he put her on would keep her out of it for a while. He was sure of it.

In a sense, Edward wasn’t able to face her right now. She was pretty panicked when they first brought her in, pale and crying. He could tell she wasn’t quite there in a sense, it was more of an instinctual reaction. He felt as if he had failed her. He felt as if he should have seen this coming, especially with the stress of a divorce looming over her head. He hadn’t even talked to her since she came to get her stitches removed a week ago. He was aware he needed to create some distance between them for he had become too attached, but now he wondered if it had hindered his ability to do his job.

Sighing, Edward rubbed his chin.

“I suggest you prepare yourself for everything. Just be there for her. Let her know she’s not alone.”

As Henstridge left, Grayson found himself unable to move. He watched her chest rise and fall and he saw just how frail she is for the first time in a long time. He knew Ethan asked him to stay away, but he couldn’t honor his wishes tonight. Grayson had to see his brother. Lucky for him, Ethan was just three floors down.

“Why are you here?” Ethan didn’t hide his animosity, irritated by Grayson’s visit. He needed time alone and he couldn’t focus on healing when Grayson reminded him of all the things he had done wrong and the woman he had broken because she dared to love him more than he ever thought he’d deserve.

While he’s learned how to recognize intrusive thoughts and to differ them from his own, Ethan was still very much emotionally tortured. He still carried too much guilt and anger and so much sadness than he could take. He prayed his antidepressants would work soon, knowing it takes about a month to start feeling the effect. He had circled the date on the calendar, knowing it would probably be the day he gets to leave and see his wife and hopefully begin building his life back up.

That’s why he needed time alone and why he had been anything but happy about his brother’s unexpected visit just before his evening session.

“Y/N is back in the hospital. Something happened.” Grayson didn’t bother sparring with him, wanting to get it all out in the open. It was pretty clear Grayson felt out of sorts as he picked at his nails and chewed on his bottom lip mercilessly. He was always the anxious type.

“She was bleeding and in pain, so I brought her in. She’s at risk of a miscarriage and they have her on all sorts of pills and IVs and they’re talking about stitching her cervix and she’s so weak and vulnerable and she is carrying your kids!” Grayson got progressively louder, his emotion overcoming him. While he tried to give Ethan time he asked for, Grayson knew this would have gone so much smoother or could have been possibly avoided had Ethan not been so secretive about how bad he got. Had he just been open with one of them, none of the bad would have happened.

“Kids?” Ethan stood, the blood rushing to his head despite his pale appearance.

“Triplets, E. And she’s scared to death. She just checked out…even when she was conscious she wasn’t there. I’m scared of what will happen if she loses the babies.” Grayson’s voice cracked, his head between his hands as he swallowed tears.

“I want to see her.” Ethan walked past Grayson, very aware of the irregularities of his leave. He didn’t care, not when Y/N was all alone in a hospital bed with not one, but three of his babies inside her. She is scared and she is lost and he’s probably the last person she’d want to see, but he has to see her. Just for a moment.

With a pass his psychiatrist lent him, Ethan and Grayson returned to her room, but Grayson didn’t come in. He let his brother have this moment.

When Ethan saw her, the very sight of her had frightened him. She laid unconscious in a hospital bed, her usually rosy cheeks now pale, her soft lips cracked where her teeth broke skin in an attempt not to scream. Her bed was tilted so the head would be lower than her waist, probably a gravity thing to keep the babies in place.

Ethan walked closer, so quiet in fear of waking her. He didn’t know what he’d say if she did open her eyes. He didn't even know would she want him here, by her side. A part of him found the thought of her opening her eyes and telling him she hates him destructive, he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

He lowered his eyes to her abdomen, tilting his head to see if it grew already, but it wasn’t likely just yet. It’s been three months since their last time, she would start showing soon, but not tonight. Ethan wasn’t going to be graced with a small bump, he knew.

Reaching out, Ethan had his mind set on placing his palm on her stomach – carefully, very tenderly. His hand is shaky, hovering above but he can’t seem to put it down. You see, he was afraid. Ethan thought even a light touch of a father’s loving hand would be enough to harm his children – the kids he always wanted and always with her – just her.

“I know how badly I messed up.” He speaks so quietly that the words can’t be heard easily. Not by anyone who could be listening in. “When the guilt comes it takes me down the old familiar path. I want to refuse to walk it, pretend that I am the person I demand that I be – your husband, the man you fell in love with. I want to be who you need me to be, but I’m still so damn torn apart by my own mind and a big part of me is ashamed I let it get so bad…that I let myself hurt you in the process.” Ethan sniffles, retracting his hand. He couldn’t touch her. Not without her permission, not even if it wasn’t sexual. He lost that right.

“I’m going to make things right. Even if you never forgive me, I want to be a good dad. I want them to know I’ll do my best to be what my dad was to me.” Ethan sighed heavily, trying not to cry.

“Even when I’m not here, my mind is on you. Always is.” Ethan turned to walk away, gasping once icy cold fingers wrapped around his wrist. It was a loose fit, a small act of desperation of a girl who struggled so hard to open her eyes to see him – the man she had been missing all along. Even if she was completely certain he’s just a mirage, she wanted to keep this hallucination going.

“Same here. Infinity times infinity, remember?” She smiled meekly, remembering the day they got matching tattoos.

“You sure you want to do this? Once you do, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine forever.” Ethan chuckled, pecking her lips as she nodded. She grasped his hand tighter when the needle first pierced her skin, her wrist burning with the painful sensation. But she had his hand to hold and the infinity times infinity sign had always been theirs – something they could now share.

“Same goes for you, hotshot.” She smiled through the pain, licking her lip. Not only did they both consider number 8 as their lucky number throughout their lives, but they’ve met on August 8th, got engaged on August 8th and planned to get married on the same date. It wasn’t just a coincidence anymore, but they absolutely adored each other and they wanted to make the symbol mean something.

“I’m fine with that. You’re my infinity times infinity – because that’s how much I love you. And that’s how long I’ll love you.”

“Of course I do.” Ethan couldn’t help but smile, noticing her tattoo under the faint lamplight. She had always managed to captivate him, even now when she looked like she stood on death’s doorstep.

“I hope to share that love with our babies too. All three of them.” Ethan clasped her hand in his, a little braver now. He wanted to warm her up, be her sun in this moment of need.

“Now I’m sure you’re a mirage. The Ethan I’ve seen lately would have said they aren’t even his.” Her smile dropped, but her eyes remained on his. “He’d say I’m a whore or something worse.” Her tone is defeated, her voice breaking, her eyes watering.

Ethan didn’t know what to say. He was shocked she saw him that way. Had he really crossed so many lines she’d expect the worse of him? Because he never had any doubt those kids are his – not even for a moment.

“Do you really think that low of me?” He managed to utter, his heart-shattering. There is a mental tornado in his head, which no-one can see nor comprehend. It seemed unfair that no matter how much he strived to be the man his conscience wanted him to be, it would keep taunting him with his failures. Each time his regrets reemerged he would analyze them again, hoping that this time his mind would be satisfied with his self-professed remorse, but it never was. Like an unforgiving ghost, it would be back tomorrow to haunt him all over again. He’d see it in her eyes, in her smile and in the way she’d retract her hand from his. He’d feel it in her half-assed hugs and short, polite answers. She’d always remind him of his mistakes, never intentionally. But they’re there and he can’t make them go away.

“I don’t know.” She spoke with a slight disbelieved smiled on her face. “Because, when I wake up in the morning….I hate you. With all I am, I hate you and I curse the day we met and I want to throw acid on my wrist to remove this permanent mark of my love for you…but as the day goes by and my heart softens…I go to bed loving you…mourning you. So, I don’t know. I’m not sure what I think of the Ethan I’ve come to know in the past months. I miss my husband…the one who married me and promised me a lifetime of happiness and love. That I do know.” A tear slipped her eye so quietly, almost disappearing into the pillow unnoticed. Ethan had caught it just before and while it weighs next to nothing, that tear made him feel heavy.

“I miss that guy too.” He whispered, noticing her eyes are opening less and less, her body tired and mentally frazzled. She needed rest.

“I promise to find him for you.” Without restraint, Ethan leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead, leaving a warm, longlasting kiss before leaving.

Tags: @melodiesforari @brittttneyyyy @beautorigin  @dolandolll @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @peacedolantwins @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @ethanhes @lanadeldolans @ebbach-03 @dolangels  @xxaamzxx @cutestdolans @yaren-ates @dolansmith @vintagebitttch @primadolangirl @caqsicle @jjustjoy @justordinaryjen @graydolan12 @imaginashawnns @graysonslovie @fandomsfeministsandothershit @bdsmdolan @graysavant @ethanspillow @dopedoodes @anything-dolan  @sugarfootdolan @joyrivh @reblogserpent @jonesana @emiemille  @herewegoagainandagainandagain​ @adventureswithmell 

[compassroseproductions]

Everyone Dice: Session 002 - Sewer Surfin’

Art by @darkthare

[Image Description: The party of Everyone Dice is in or near a river after their foray into the sewers. Foremost and leftmost, Alois is talking to fish and feeding them from her trail rations. She is human, nude, and freckled, with long black hair that protects her modesty. In the center foreground, just to the right of Alois, Cordelia is rinsing her hair and watching Alois curiously. She is a half elf, and also nude and freckled, and her right arm bears an intricate sleeve tattoo that resembles an eye with patterns and music notes around it. In the midground and at the rightmost edge, Shay is tying her hair back into a ponytail. She is a half elf, with long black hair, and she is wading in her crop top and pants. She has intricate tattoos on her wrists. In the far background, framed in the space between Cordelia and Shay, Zaala and Burnie are sitting close to each other on the shore, conversing quietly.

End Image Description.]

Everyone Dice: Session 002 – Sewer Surfin’ 

“Welcome back everyone to the second session of Everyone Dice.” 

The session opened with a discussion about the Itch.io Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality which offered over 1000 games for a minimum price of $5 with all proceeds split between the NAACP and the Community Bail Fund. We also talked about Black Hole Entertainment Comics who featured Lynn in their first edition of Lift Off!

(The Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality ended with over $8 million raised!)

Kacey then quickly recaps the events of session one finishing with the party above the sewer grate. 

“Who is going down the ladder first?”

Scottie: “Me!”

Erin: “Alois.”

May: “Cordelia is definitely last.”

The Party decides on their order as: Zaala, Alois, Shay, Cordelia and Burnie. As soon as Zaala’s feet touch the stone, she hears a gasp and sees a figure in tattered clothes flee into the sewers. Everyone is quickly distracted by who does and doesn’t have Darkvision (only Alois, Cordelia and Burnie do). 

Scottie: “I’m a goliath, goliaths don’t have Darkvision, what do you want from me?”

Erin: “A likely story…”

Scottie: “I get to be harder to kill.” 

Alois and Shay, halfway down the ladder, also see this figure and the three take off in quick pursuit. Cordelia and Burnie follow from a distance. Alois wild shapes into a boar to match Shay’s speed of 40 feet. Shay closes the distance between herself and the figure using step of the wind to push off of the walls. A gap in the path covered by rickety planks proves no trouble for everyone except for Cordelia and Burnie who slip into the muck beneath. Zaala stops to help them even when it means giving up the chase. 

Scottie: “Given who Zaala is, she would be more interested in helping Burnie... and then also Cordelia.”  

With a natural twenty, Shay closes the gap and tackles the target to the ground. Close behind, Alois piles on top of the figure and Shay. The party is now able to see that the figure is a short individual in dark tattered clothes that haven’t seen a wash in days or even weeks. Pockmarks and sweat cover his face. 

Lynn tries to argue her case of using mending to remove the stains from Burnie’s skirt. “What if I cut the skirt where the stains are and then use mending, would that work?”

In a soft form of torture, Alois (still as a boar) begins blowing into the man’s ears while Shay questions him. He claims to have just been doing maintenance, but our insight reveals he’s obviously lying. He’s not wearing a uniform or insignia and tried to say he had not seen the zombies around him. 

Alois manages to find an iron key in the man’s pockets. Shay ties him up and finds out his name (as far as he knows) is Tristan. Burnie tries to talk calmly to him, while everyone else offers help through intimidation. Tristan reveals he is in the sewers on a job, “to make that bastard Ulrich pay” but doesn’t really know the specifics of why. He was hired by Abigail Ulrich, the lord’s sister and in return she will cure his gravely ill sister. 

Burnie suggests the party take him before the lord and Cordelia questions the point, but eventually agrees when Alois claims to have a secret plan. Zaala tosses the bound Tristan over her shoulder and leads the group back to the town square. A small crowd has gathered there, and a guard questions the party. After Alois siphons “an unnatural amount” of blood from Tristan and it follows the party in a fine mist. He is handed over to the guards. 

Burnie: “Question, sir, do you know if there’s perhaps a launderer of sorts open…this late?” Guard: “A launderer…. This isn’t the capital missy. We’ve got a place where you can wash your clothes. No one’s gonna do it for you.”

Cordelia dumps her shoes in the sewer and the party decides to clean in the nearby river. Zaala rests on the bank. Alois and Cordelia are completely naked which draws curious glances from passers-by. Burnie and Shay are still dressed to some degree but are washing in the water. 

Burnie: “Hello Shay, how goes the cleaning?”

Shay: “Um…. It’s going…” 

The two discuss Shay’s homeland of Urtu. Shay calls it boring and dislikes the rules about how people can live. That is the reason she left, to be able to live the way she wants too (though exactly what that means is left vague). The bond over their shared travels and the new experiences they’ve had along the way. Shay is impressed by the prevalence and variety of magic outside of Urtu. 

Alois uses talk to animals to converse with the small silver fish in the river. She easily befriends them with food. The noises of this conversation sound like soft waves and bubbling brooks, which captivates Cordelia. The fish tell Alois about the ‘rotten ones’ they’ve seen travelling nearby, coming from the west. They make a deal: Alois brings more food if the fish find out more information.

Burnie: “I am endlessly fascinated by your magic Alois”

Alois: “Oh neat.”

Zaala attempts to discuss Alois’ shape-changing abilities but finds the conversation difficult to progress. In Zaala’s tribe children are not gendered and are able to choose their own later in life. 

Out-of-character the party gets distracted by how many secrets we’re all keeping. 

Erin: “Session 49: We find out all of Alois’ secrets. Then Session 50 Cordelia betrays us.”

Scottie: “I thought session 50 we find out Cordelia’s secrets, not that she betrays us.” 

Erin: “It’s both, it’s both. The secret is that she’s going to betray us.” 

Back on track, dressed, and clean, the party walks back to the Lord��s manor. Roderic opens the door, surprised to see them so late, but lets them into the meeting room. A minute later Lord Ulrich joins them. Alois explains her plan. Using the siphoned blood, she can track Tristan and suggests they let him escape and follow him to Abigail’s base of operations. Lord Ulrich is unsure whether to trust the party over this plan and first wants to gather as much information as possible from Tristan. Burnie requests the Lord find Tristan’s sister so something may be done to help her illness, and he agrees. The conversation over, Lord Ulrich leaves and the party notices he is no longer carrying the walking cane with him. 

A brief mid-session break happens. 

The party heads back to the Blue Willow Inn and finds a table for dinner. Cordelia begins playing a soft tune under the party’s conversation. Alois calls Thana over and asks for “a bunch of kale soaked in saltwater”. Despite her confusion Thana agrees to have it ready in the morning. Alois then asks for a dinner recommendation as she’s “in the mood for anything”, they settle on six chicken pot pies which she’s never had before. Burnie orders 1 pot pie for herself and Thana offers to just bring a tray of pies for the group. Cordelia is not hungry but amused by the situation and insists on “all the pot pies you have”. 

Thana: “All of them?”

Cordelia: “All the pot pies!”

Zaala: “Are you going to pay for that Cordelia?”

Thana: “That was going to be my next question”

Cordelia: “That depends how many ‘all of the pot pies’ is”.

Eventually they land on 13 pot pies for the table and some venison for the homesick Zaala (it’s not moose but it’s close). The ale is disappointingly weak for Alois as she’s used to Bralian moonshine. Zaala tries Burnie’s fruity wine. 

Zaala: “It’s not…the worst alcohol I’ve tried.” 

Burnie raises the cup in cheers “Well, to not the worst!” 

Alois enjoys her pies and shovels them down. Burnie tries to make conversation while avoiding the day's events as they’re not “dinner appropriate conversation”. Shay mentions tackling Tristan earlier and she and Zaala begin discussing the combat training they both undertook. Shay was not allowed to officially ‘train’ in her homeland but watched others and taught herself. Shay says she wouldn’t be upset to go home but doesn’t really see the need, for the moment her place is the road. Burnie is listening to Cordelia play. 

Burnie: “I’m curious Cordelia, do you draw your magic from the music you play? 

Cordelia: “Yes, to some degree. Though it’s more that the music is the magic.”

Burnie: “I think I’ve heard of that before, but I’ve never met one such as yourself, or such as Alois. Honestly, I’ve never met any people like any of you before”. 

Zaala: “It is my understanding that what I do is, not unheard of necessarily, but rare”.

Cordelia: “I am the only one like me, so I’m not surprised”.

Lynn, very suspicious: “The only one…hmm”

May: “Stop being suspicious of me!” 

Lynn: “You say suspicious shit all the time” 

AJ: “Now you know how I feel!” 

Alois gets the party back on track and in character by asking “So, what’s with all those…clothes, Bunny?” Burnie was simply raised to dress that way ‘like a proper lady’. Cordelia laughs at this response. 

Alois: “Why though?” 

Burnie: “I’m afraid I don’t understand the question, it was just the way I was raised.”

Alois: “Yeah, but why?”

Cordelia: “She never learnt to question that.”

Burnie: “I’ve learned to question it, it’s just the way that things are done” 

Zaala: “I think it looks quite nice!” 

Cordelia (mockingly): “Like a proper lady”. 

The conversation shifts to the different ways of dressing people are used too. Alois is not used to people like Burnie. Zaala’s people mostly dress like her as the cold doesn’t bother them. Shay dresses similarly but is used to a warmer climate. Zaala also says the raven feathers in her ears come from her mothers’ companion, as the raven is her family’s symbol. Alois proudly shares the wolf-pelt she’s wearing is her first trophy. Shay is surprised but impressed by this. 

Alois shows off her bear trap: “You should have seen it, I caught it with one of these initially but it broke free. Now that I had some of its blood, I could track it and it was so fun! Took a few days but I got it!”

Shay: “I mean…yeah it sounds like fun. Camping? I bet it was like camping but you know, tracking an animal.” 

Burnie inquires if blood-magic is common where Alois is from. Alois just repeats that she doesn’t understand the questions until Burnie gives up. Alois asks Cordelia what sort of music she plays, to which she responds, “All music”. Alois wants a demonstration.

Cordelia: “You want me to play you all of the songs?”

Alois: “Well you said you knew all of the songs.” 

Cordelia: “Alright! I will do all of the songs, at once, for you.

Cordelia stands up and using both the lyre and her voice performs a cacophony of sound. It is unpleasant but after the initial shock, a melody forms within releasing a uniquely beautiful sound. Alois: “I’m sure it’s going to sound even better when I hear all of them separately”. 

On the topic of music Zaala reveals she has a flute but cannot play it very well. It was beautifully carved from bone by Zaala’s sibling, Veleo. Their brother, Nakein, was the musician in the family, not Zaala. Her people find what they are good at and do it, for her that is protecting people and weaving. “Weaving is a good reminder that my hands are useful for more than just hurting those that would hurt mine.” 

The party finishes dinner and eventually retire to their rooms for the night. Before heading to bed, Burnie says a prayer in privacy (Zaala takes a walk). She retrieves a collection of bones from and lays them out before her. The ceremony ends but she keeps her head bowed and softly speaks. 

Burnie: “I hope you had a good day today. I hope you’re doing alright. I noticed earlier that you were with me when I healed shay in combat. Do you know her? 

Fingers brush against her arm in response.

Burnie: “Do you trust her?”

A soft chuckle accompanies the bones as they shift to indicate “yes.” 

Burnie: “Do I have something to be jealous of?”

More laughter, the bones return to their place.

Burnie: “Alright I understand. I love you” 

A soft kiss is placed on her forehead and she finishes up for the night. 

As Cordelia lays in bed, she falls into sleep enveloped by darkness on all sides. After a few moments it parts but she finds herself in a darker version of her room. Pulled outside, she rises and opens the door, only to step into the town square. The sounds of activity swirl around her but she is alone there. At its centre, in front of the beacon, a metal musical stand has grown from the ground itself. She approaches and with each step the sounds grow louder until a deafening peak. An invisible conductor taps against the stand, stopping the chorus and calling coloured lights to erupt in the distance. A large book of music appears on the stand, its pages blown over by the wind. A strange voice, constructed with a thousand other sounds speaks to her, saying simply “the chorus calls”. Cordelia takes the book, lands on a tune titled The Minuet of Mending. She begins to play but upon the first note, wakes up again in her bed. 

The party awakes in the morning to the knock of a guard, called to talk with Lord Ulrich as soon as possible. They get dressed and ready before heading off to meet him. He greets them at the door, carrying his walking cane once again. Tristan was killed in the night by Roderic, who has now fled to The Geist lands west of town. He had a noose tied to his neck and was strangled. The party agrees to chase Roderic west. Ulrich offers a wagon of supplies to help them and asks for haste. Burnie asks if Tristan could have become a ghost, but the barrier of the beacon prevents undead being created within the town. Alois and Burnie decide to conduct an autopsy on Tristan’s body and leave town in the afternoon.  

Session two ends here. 

[parkeraul]

anatomy | oneshot

a/n: i don’t know what it is but i had this stuck in my phone’s notes and i’m going to give it a try lol. i got inspired by a post here on tumblr and another one on twitter (both different, both NOT what you’re thinking they are) and this is like... nerdy!shawn? college!shawn? student!shawn? idk read it to find it out. plus, this is a work of fiction, so the situations named in here aren’t exactly what happens in real life, my dudes. i don’t know if this is how it happens, i’m assuming stuff just to give them an atmosphere. all built up for shawn and reader’s relationship to go somewhere on this imagine. sorry in advance to any medical students lmao.

shawn x reader  warnings: cursing, smut (?).  words: 7.272

It’s nearly 10pm in a saturday when he knocks on her door with his free hand, holding his book in his other hand kind of nervously. She tiptoes downstairs, quickly knotting the strap around her robe to cover her recent showered body. Her mind goes confused, wondering who might be standing outside at this time. Peeking through the magic eye, she can barely recognise the tall figure standing in front of her door with what she figured out as a backpack hanging on his back and something under his tattooed arm. She wasn’t expecting anyone from college because the finals were still happening and she finally managed to get home after passing hers, so everyone else should probably be stuck in their houses half studying, half praying. When she saw his hand coming up to curl in a fist next to the wooden material, she flicked the keys to the side and made sure to hold the upper part of her robe, pulling the edges together to cover her breasts and collarbone.  Opening the door, she meets him wearing a desperate expression on his flushed face. He sighs in relief before putting his shit together. “Shawn? What are you doing here?” She asks smiling insecurely, he doesn’t follow her though. “Thank God you’re home!” He vents and exhales heavily. “I know this is super weird and random, but I honestly don’t know who else to look for. I’m really sorry. God... I shouldn’t-“ “Spit it out, Mendes!” She giggles, opening the door a little bit more to show him somehow that she’s welcoming him. “You know you can count on me to something more than just having my veins available for you to train your blood-removal skills.” She winks and he smiles shyly, remembering how insecure he felt when first asking her to volunteer and be his pair to this class in specific.  

They’ve become pretty close, always getting paired for the classes because they knew that they were responsible and worked greatly together – always hitting high grades even in the most difficult subjects. Medical school is hard already, so they’ve found in each other an easier way to go through it all by supporting each other since their class is filled with so many selfish people. Shawn and Y/N were rarely hanging out when not in college – but more than friends, they are also something like partners in crime.  Although he had a very serious crush on her at first sight, he kept on doing his best to get rid of the feeling eventually, even though he knows he’s not 100% there, he thinks that he’s seen everything he could and his rational side is working constantly to make him get used to live next to her like a normal person would do (seeing her as a nice classmate who’s there for him, not someone who he wants to trace every single inch and experience his daydreams with). She finds him attractive, she can’t even lie. But she would never make a move considering how reserved he is, fearing that he might reject her right at first and never look at her face again. Things couldn’t get this awkward. 

Y/N opens some space for Shawn to step inside her living room and gives him a gentle smile, always reassuring him wordlessly that he can feel comfortable in her presence to ask whatever he wanted to ask – she felt more than glad to solve his doubts, actually. 

“I’m sorry for showing up so late and...” He finally sees that she’s wearing nothing but a black cotton robe and her hair is wet, clinging to her back. “Well, s-sorry for interrupting your s-shower, I-“ Shawn facepalms and rubs his forehead, trying to brush his nervousness off and find the right words to say. He doesn’t want to look like a creep. “Mendes, you’re rambling,” She warns him and closes the door, grabbing his stuff for him to have free hands to take off his coat and shoes. Knowing it, Shawn rapidly does it all before putting both hands together to wait for further instructions. “Stop apologising! You know I don’t care about it.”  Shawn knows that Y/N doesn’t really give a shit about things that some other people would do. She always says that a body is a body: it’s not an object and that a body and sex should be seen as something natural, not something who demands silly and unnecessary jokes when you look at it. And considering the partnership they’ve been developing, she felt more comfortable to talk to him about these things without stuttering or feeling embarassed. If they wanted to build a professional career, they had to deal with bodies normally. 

Maybe this is one of the reasons why they’ve never sat down to spill the tea about their secret little crushes. Shawn is a gentleman, of course, and that’s what keeps him fighting his willing to love on her like he never did with anyone else. He is misunderstanding her words, perhaps. She always talked to him about how much she hates when their classmates started joking and sexualizing human bodies like they were made for nothing more than sex. But that didn’t mean that she’s not into finding out how their touches can melt delightfully, because that’s been currently taking over her imaginations more often than she’d like it to – debating with her own mind how wrong is this, how awful it is of her to imagine Shawn maping her body with those intentions that she wishes her whole class could stop feeding. Maybe she had forgotten to say that, if they’re both agreeing on doing this, if their feelings are matching, then it’d be a whole another story (that she’d love to live intensely, thank you very much). This is such a hot mess.

She trails her way to the kitchen and he follows her before he can miss the sight of her. She points to the big island in the middle of her kitchen for him to sit as she places his book and backpack on top of it. “What’s going on, Shawnie Boy?” She asks while opening her fridge to look for something to eat to offer him. “Thank you for being way too nice, Y/N,” He chuckles to himself, also thanking the universe for crossing their ways. “I couldn’t pass Sally’s latest test and she’s going to eat me alive if I fuck up with the upcoming final exam.” Y/N grabs a box of grape juice to put on top of the island along with some Doritos she found on her cabinet. She thought he might probably want to sink down in unhealthy garbage to calm his damn nerves. “Sally is really unpredictable, isn’t she?” Y/N jokes and also grabs what’s left of her chocolate cake inside the oven to join the other stuff. “What was it about?”  “Anatomy,” Shawn says unpleasantly, grabbing the glass that Y/N is giving him so he can pour some juice to himself. “Women’s body kind of anatomy, more specifically. It makes me wanna give up on this damn class.” He opens the box and starts filling his glass with the deep purple liquid. “You actually can’t. This subject is... How do they say? Obligatory.” She says, staring at him and finishing setting the island with tiny plates and forks. “See? I know I should be studying music or whatever doesn’t envolve vulvas and labias.” His tone expresses all of his disappointment. Shawn hates to fail and also hates the whole process of learning from his mistakes. He never allowed himself to fuck it up even though he had no previous knowledge to execute something perfectly for the first time. “Keep thinking like that and you’ll end up seeing your own hand for the rest of your life.” Y/N is effortlessly pushing him over the edge of his stress, but he knew she was only playing around so he pretended not to care that much. He thought of replying her as boldly as she’s doing, but when she leaned forwards a little bit to cut a piece of cake, he accidentally saw her skin underneath the dark fabric – almost getting the view of the swell of her breasts. He swallowed harshly, immediately searching for his book to find the pages that have been driving him insane over the past weeks. ‘It’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s okay.’ He quietly warns his own body. Shawn shakes his head and takes a generous sip of his juice and tries hard to blink and miss the view of her not even noticing what just happened and still trying to cut a perfect square to place on a plate. “I... Mm... Have been reading from page 45 to page 97 over and over again for two weeks straight and-“ He starts with difficulty and, as if it wasn’t hard enough for him now, she’s licking and sucking at her fork she used to set under her piece of cake to lift it up and off the tin while looking him deep in the eyes, waiting for him to conclude his first doubt of the night. She didn’t mean to seduce him on purpose, but if she only knew the way she is messing with his head right now, she’d probably do something much worse. 

Shawn feels like cursing all the words he knows out loud. 

He’s been managing to keep his first impressions controlled for years. Why is this shit coming up again like he’s seeing her for the first time in his life? His brain, always hungry for coherent answers, figured things out in a matter of seconds. When he understood it all, he came back to earth and denied his own instincts angrily. Hopefully, he would never ever need to explain this reason to anyone else. 

“And?” Y/N snaps him back to reality, removing the fork out of her mouth and clicking her tongue to finish the small taste she had from the tiny crumbles that were glued to the steel.  “And... I...” He keeps on turning the pages frantically, not wanting to waste time. Who knows that she wouldn’t get him lost between running to the closest bathroom to splash some water on his face and staying frozen in his seat to never get up again until he stops hardening against his sweatpants during this quick lack of words? “I c-couldn’t quite understand and memorize these parts and their functions.” Shawn fixes a single curl back to its place and then he points to the figure on his book.  “Really?” She frowns. How a smart and handsome guy like Shawn can’t understand simple explanations about a vagina? “Why have you circled this so many times? You can barely see what it is.” She points to a messy grey sketch.  “It’s the clitoris,” Shawn rolls his eyes and clears his throat before moving on. “Need to remind myself that this shit is killing me mercilessly with this stupid amount of nerve endings.”  “You wish, Shawn,” Slicing her cake, she jokes and wraps her lips around the fork once again. Shawn can literally feel the palms of his hands sweating and he swears to God he could explode at anytime. Why anatomy of the reproductive system? Why not microbiology or pharmacology? He knew he should be a pro by now. “You better take notes about this little thing in particular if you want to pass or make a girl squirm under you.” 

Can she stop?  Great.  Now he’s picturing it. 

“Plus, I can guarantee you that, once you get to find where it is and how it works, you’ll wish you could reciprocate the merciless part everyday.” 

This is not study. This is torture.  Bad grades and bad thoughts. The “perfect” combo.  Shawn gets his notebook and pencils out of his bag and works fast to find a blank page to start writing. 

The time flies by with her careful explanations.  Y/N might joke a lot with him but she knows when to talk seriously.  She’s patient to describe every single detail and say things once more in a different way for him to see it all in a different way.  She speaks; he writes and asks again. All happening in a loop and Shawn’s pretty surprised that the chills that were taking over his lower region were gone now. He’s been doing his best by looking down at the paper all the time, refusing to peek at her.  “No! Nah-nah-nah...” She says and stretches her arm to grab the eraser next to him. He falls out of his concentration and reacts by traveling his eyes from her fingers to the expansion of her covered arm and finishing at her now exposed collarbone. The scent of her moisturizer escapes her robe to invade his nostrils. He can’t help but inhale deeply as she brings the eraser to rub the words he’d been writing.  “What’s that on your clavicle?” Still studying her skin, he asks impulsively. Shit.  She looks at him and then down at her own body.  “Oh... This?” She sets the fabric to the side a little bit more, now almost showing her entire shoulder. Shawn feels like choking on his own air. “It’s just a little scar. Got it when trying to run away from my cousin once. Nails strong enough to mark me,” She remembers and giggles lowly. “Unfortunately not as cute as this one you have on your face.” 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

She just noticed that she revealed loudly one of her favourite things about him.  For the first time in the night, he smiles.  He feels his chest burning – still shyly – and she can’t take her eyes off his beautiful teeth, perfectly shaped and getting her missing the patterns of her breathing. 

From there, the tension between them seemed to grow more and more and the emotions blooming up from this atmosphere were screaming louder than words, intensifying not only their desires but also the other feelings coming to their surface. It was like throwing alcohol in a bonfire. And it’s certain that the flames were getting higher and higher.  They tried to focus one more time on whatever they were doing now (neither of them cared to understand exactly what it was), Shawn a lot more lost than her, already writing things that weren’t even about anatomy, he thought. 

“Nope!” She says again.  Erase, wipe the dust, explain again. 

The clock is ticking. 

“Shawn, no.”  By now, he was finishing his third glass of grape juice and she had completely given up on her cake. Fork hitting the plate aggressively as she bends over the cold marble to repeat her actions. Shawn rubs his face and runs his fingers through his dark curls.  Erase, wipe the dust, explain again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell are you doing?” If she was patient before, she’s not losing her shit for fucks sake. “Vulva is this external part, not the inside. The internal part is the vagina, down here in this entrance, see?” She’s pointing with his pencil and circling the spots with caution, because otherwise she might rip the page apart. Shawn drops his arms against the island and tilts his head to meet the hard surface, hitting his forehead and his sighs turns into a deep growl. 

Erase, wipe the dust. 

“God! Have you ever seen a pussy in your life?” He freezes in place and doesn’t get up, hoping she’s going somewhere else with this question. “Seriously! C’mere, I’ve got this kind of a plastic mould and you’ll touch this shit until the information gets inside your head somehow.” She stands in her feet and she knows that she’s being kinda rude. He doesn’t care, he knows he’s not going anywhere if she keeps on being all nice and shit but at the same time he’s so nervous that he wishes he could stay in that kitchen for the rest of his life until his problem goes away.  “I don’t really-” His voice comes out muffled by the white marble under his face.  “Mendes, you’re coming whether you want it or not!” She grabs his arm and pulls him off his seat. “I told you I’d help you and you know I won’t stop until I get my work done. Come on!”  He seizes the last seconds where his face is still hidden to smile. He loves how much she cares about him now and it seems to vanish away all of her impulsive attitudes before. She just wants him to succeed and once she gets a goal inside her mind, she ain’t stopping until she makes it happen.  Shawn gives up and she’s practically dragging him upstairs to her bedroom, steps punishing the degrees under her feet. 

“Get yourself comfortable, I’m gonna find this thing.” She says as if he even could. Shawn falls in her bed while she turns the lights on and goes to her shelf, eyeing all the spaces where that mould could be hiding into.  She tiptoes across her bedroom and checks every part of it like her life depends on it. 

Wardrobe? No.  Drawers? No.  Desk? No.  Under the bed? No.  Bookshelf? No. 

If the bedroom was even larger, she’d be running a marathon across it and the way she’s walking with powerful footsteps and picked up rhythm makes the hem of her robe swing and get loosened, sometimes showing the back of her thighs a little bit more and gradually exposing her chest.  And if Shawn felt like dying before, now he’s sure that he’s floating between heaven and hell so quickly that he can’t do anything else but widen his eyes in desperation, fight his own mind and press down on her mattress for dear life. “You can’t think like that. She’s your friend, she’s not a piece of meat. Control your damn hormones.” He whispers to himself and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want her to think that he’s just another one of those stupid classmates of theirs or some kind of a weirdo who acts like he had never seen a semi-naked body before.  Although that yes, he had never.  Y/N might be cool about talking of sex and stuff, but he managed to just nod and agree. He never told her he was a virgin and something about the way she messes with him so easily makes him feel like organising a whole speech – in the most polite way ever – about how much he wants her to teach him everything: where to touch, how to touch and what to do to have her feeling not only relaxed in his presence but also pleased. If he only had the braveness, he’d be on his knees right now divided between begging for mercy or for a chance. 

She closes the last drawer where she guessed the plastic cast could be inside of and turns around with her hands covering her mouth. Shawn looks at her concerned expression and concludes that she’s thinking, considering how fast her eyes are running across the room. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to. It’s okay, I can find some other way...” Shawn tries to calm her and she tugs some strands, pulling them back and then dropping her arms down. She can’t think of anything else than this and she knows she might be taking a risk in here. She steps backwards to close her door and it gets Shawn frowning, gasping and blinking rapidly. What the hell is she doing? 

If he could’ve only guessed that some dreams can come true sometimes... 

“Mendes, don’t freak out, okay?” She looks at him worriedly and his grin is filled with doubts. He thought she was joking about his study routine or whatever happened a few seconds ago. But when he sees that her face ain’t changing to something more playful, he gulps once more. “You’re gonna have to do this in anyways in the final exam and, since you can’t even name things correctly, there’s no other way to do this. Tell me if you don’t wanna do this and I’ll stop.” She finishes and grabs the knot of her robe. In one fluid motion, she undoes it and the black fabric is pooling down around her feet. Right now she’s not thinking about her crush on him, she’s not trying to get him moaning her name. No. She’s trying to get anatomy inside his head because she’s been there before and she knows that, if he touches the wrong places, Sally is definitely not going to give him any other chances. There’s no dirty in here, there’s no seduction. She’s offering to a test just like she offered her veins once; or like when he let her feel his temperature and see if his throat was sore.  “What are you doing? Y/N, seriously...” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Cover up, you don’t need to do it for me.”  “Is that what you want? I’ll do if you’re feeling awkward on doing this,” She reassures him and catches her robe from the floor. “But I want you to know that I’m okay with it. It’s totally up to you.”  Shawn can feel his limbs turning into cold stones and his leg starts to shake uncontrollably. He feels like someone just threw a ball on fire to him and he knows he’s got the opportunity to put the fire down. He just doesn’t know how.  “C-Can you... like...” He rubs his face, still not looking at her (who’s covering her front with the robe now) and tries to make a smart decision. “Get under your covers so I... can... t-touch you without looking at you?”  “Is this going to make you feel more comfortable?”  “Y-Yes.”  “I’ll try to guide you then.” 

An inconvenient silence takes over the place and it had never been so annoying. He gets up, turning his back to her and she goes under her blanket, trying to feel less unsuited.  “Hold on. I’ll wash my hands before... you know...”  “Second door to the right.” 

A few minutes later, Shawn is back and not so afraid. She looks at him and sees that his hairline is wet, he might probably had splashed some water on his face before returning.  “Are you okay?” She asks, feeling her chest heaving in concern.  “I’m good,” He closes the door with his foot and keeps his hands in the air, away from any object. “Sure you wanna keep going? You don’t have to-”  “I’m sure,” She nods and he sits at the end of the bed. “With that I’m even feeling like a real patient now.” She points at his hands with her chin and chuckles bending her knees. He follows her and giggles too. He can’t even believe how amazing she is, he feels like nothing in this world can gift her enough for being this good to him.  “You can, like, start from my pubic bone and then you can say what you remember, you know?” She incentivates him. “When you get to touch those parts we were seeing down in there, you’ll tell me what it is and what is it for.”  He nods and she shifts her body up closer to the headboard, making some space for him to come forward and slip one hand under the blanket.  “Don’t you want me to wear gloves?”  “I’m out of gloves in here but I don’t really mind.” She says and he’s just going with her flow. “Showed you my exams before the tests, so you also know that I don’t have anything you should worry about.”  She’s giving him so many reasons to leave his nervousness behind that he’s feeling like he’d forgotten for a moment that, on top of it all, they’re still friends. They’re not strangers. They should count on each other and this is what she wants him to do, this is what he wants her to do.  “Go on, I trust you.” Her sweet tone reaches his ears and he smiles at her, so happy to know that she’s there for him and, more than anything else, she sees in him a person that she can trust. It’s just priceless.  “And I trust you,” Shawn responds and she smiles back at him, feeling more comfortable against her pillows. “Excuse me.” He asks before touching her and she nods in confirmation, allowing him to go on. Shawn knows that this is not his body, so he must have her approval and excuse to touch her.  His palm is softly sliding along the expansion of her shin to her knee and inner thigh, looking her deep in the eyes, attentive to any sign that she’s not liking it so he can stop. He wants to show her that he doesn’t wanna hurt her or do something harmful, so he rubs his thumb from side to side, caressing her and showing that he’s being so careful. She looks at her own ceiling, trying to keep her breathing calm and remain herself that she suggested it, so she must stay true to her pure intentions and leave her dirty thoughts locked and forbidden.  He reaches the spot she told him to look for. He stops moving when he gets there and waits for her to give him another permission.  “What’re you touching?” She asks.  Shawn gets it as a chastise and lifts his hand up, widening his eyes. She slips her arm under the blanket and places it back to where it was, making him gulp and miss a heartbeat.  “I’m not asking you to leave, Mendes,” She laughs. “I’m asking you what’s this specific spot you’re touching right now. This is still a test.”  His eyes are still wide as ever, comprehending her words and looking for the answer in his mind.  “The pubic mound... Okay...” He answers more to himself and tries to remember the words she made him take notes about. “It’s... a fibroadipose tissue that stays on top of the bone and it divides into the labia majora on either side of the pudendal cleft.”  “Very good,” She praises and he smiles, actually wanting to scream in happiness for answering correctly and in tension, because her words made his nerves sparkle somehow. ‘Just breathe’ he says to himself as a mantra. “You can feel it if you want to.”  The tips of his fingers press lightly against it, choosing random spots to feel and then he lets go of it. He can read about it in the books where his gravity is going to be centered.  “Should I keep going?” He asks.  “Yes, please.” 

Oh God, not please.

Both of them getting a type of disquietude after this word in particular.  She didn’t mean to say it, she knows that ‘please’ doesn’t even fit correctly to the moment but somehow it escaped from her lips nearing a state of beg. She couldn’t let him know. This is still forbidden.  He swallows harshly and moves down slowly, almost reaching his next stop. 

“Okay, stop.” She says and he immediately stays still. “I’m gonna ask you something very embarassing but necessary.”  “...Alright?!...” Shawn eyes her with concentration, trying to understand if he did something wrong at any point.  “Lick your finger before touching this next spot,” Unable to look him in the eyes, she asks and covers her face. This makes him comfortable to remove his hand and lick his index finger before she can see him doing it. “You shouldn’t do this to your patients, but I’m very sensitive and when it’s all dry it might hurt a little.”  “Okay,” He gets back to where he was before and sets his hand back down on her. “Was I here?”  “Yup,” She says popping her ‘p’. “You can touch it now.”  His touch is now wet and cold, making her shiver slightly and it glides easily. She removes her hands from her face but keeps her eyes shut to focus on not getting wetter than his finger.  “Clitoris.”  “Nope.”  “No?”  “Try to remember about the first time I yelled at you downstairs.”  “Oh, alright.” He tilts his head down and laughs to himself. His finger is moving so delicately that it’s nearly tickling her heat. She shifts her ankles further just a little so she can see that flushy face of his, eyes now looking up as he tries to find a blank spot where his sight can help his imagination to picture what it looks like as he touches her. “Clitoral foreskin? Clitoral hood?”  “Hood is better.”  “Fine,” He grins. “It’s a mucocutaneous tissue that covers and protects the clitoris. It can fully cover the clit sometimes, but it also can just partly cover it.”  “Thought you’d never get it right, not gonna lie.” She confesses and he moves his pretty greenish eyes to look at her, and she finally reciprocates.  “Thought you trusted me!”  It’s so good to interact as they typically do. It’s so good to feel more normal and less awkard. The two of them could now feel their bodies relaxing and free to get back to joking and playing. Nothing’s really planned for ages before acting, it’s just natural. This is what they were looking for.  His cold calloused finger goes down shortly and she lets a sigh fly from her lips, instantly biting at her bottom one. She writhes sparsely, trying not to do what she’d normally do if they weren’t studying.  “Clitoris? Is it here?”  “M-hm.” “Erectile nub placed at the top of the vulva. It has around 8.000 nerve endings and blood supply. Would you mind if I see it?”  She shakes her head in denial and grabs the cover up to reveal her lower half, making it rest on her stomach.  Shawn takes his finger away for a moment to see the little nub and memorize where it is. He thinks he’d never seen something so beautiful in his life; he never thought it’d look this beautiful.  Totally compelled, he licks his digit again and touches her clit, differently from before. Now, he’s softly drawing tiny circles around it and she accidentaly moans lowly. The tip of his finger is sliding so deliciously that she couldn’t even notice the time when she showed such weakness.  “If you keep doing like this, you’re gonna turn me on and-”  “How sensitive is it?” He cuts her off and, to be honest, he wasn’t even listening. All of his concentration got directed to her clit, now swelling under his control.  “What?”  “How sensitive is it? With so many nerve endings, it must be really delicate. Isn’t it?”  She’s not quite understanding.  Shouldn’t he know this already? Or was he one of those guys who never finds a clit during sex?  “It’s sensitive enough to get me excited,” She warns but it’s not like he’s giving a single damn right now. “But if you press it hard, then it’ll hurt me bad. Like... you can add a little bit more of pressure...”  And he immediately does, watching the way his finger works carefully but performing firmly now. She exhales strongly, trying so hard not to lose her shit.  “A little bit more...” She demands and he obeys. Where is this going? She can’t answer herself now that this feels so good. His touch rounding her clit, sometimes going from side to side and he takes his time feeling all the extension of it. “Don’t go further than this, otherwise it’ll only harm me.”  This amount of pressure was just perfect for her taste. Shawn doesn’t even know about this, but he keeps going and he even leans closer to see it better. Now there was no hell, it was just heaven. Heaven in the way her face contorts everytime he hits the center of her clit; heaven in the way her chest is moving up and down, trying not to lose the pattern of her respiration; heaven in the way her eyes squinted – but no completely – peeking at him with some struggle. He stops eyeing her heat, saving the last information he got from it and looks at her, eyes practically dark.  “Let’s move on to-”  “Can I put my mouth on it?”  Her jaw falls.  Such a question she didn’t know she needed to hear today.  She knew she wanted to, but never knew she needed it so bad.  “Are you asking to eat me out, Mendes?” For a minute there, she thinks she’s dreaming. Dreaming wildly. She promptly supports her body on her elbows and tosses her blanket away from her body.  “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry,” It’s like a force pushed him back to earth. He felt so intoxicated by her that his attention flew out to somewhere else. “I’m such a-”  “Do it.”  “What is it?”  “Do it,” She insists. Can’t miss the chance, can’t have him going back now. Not now. “You want it?” He nods kind of desperately. “Then show me what you can do.” She tilts her head to the side and smirks at him. His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. Jesus Christ, she can get him around her finger so easily that he feels lucky that he was the one to get her around his finger previously. But how is he supposed to do this?  He decides to get started by kissing the inner part of her leg, planting wet kisses along her smooth skin and it feels so satisfying to have her skin exposing goosebumps under his touch. He’s getting closer and she sighs so sweetly that he’s hoping he’s doing the right thing.  The scent of her is driving him crazy, he can’t wait to know the taste.  “I-” He starts that old speech of explanation. He doesn’t want to but he feels like he needs to be honest with her and tell that he’s still a virgin. Lost and anxious to find himself. Find her.  “I know. I’ll guide you, don’t you worry about that.”  She’s just perfect. There’s no better definition inside his mind right now. He’s the opened book she loves to devour every single page of, absorbing the details and letting herself get immersed. She arranges her body on her bed to give him more space to lay down on his stomach and between her parted legs. When he finishes his trail of wet and hot kisses, she stands in one shoulder as her other arm goes to reach his brown curls that she loves so much.  “You can kiss it first,” She directs him. “See what it feels like against your lips and oh,” She moans because he wasted no time on licking his lips and kissing her clit. “G-Get yourself used to it, take your time to adjust yourself, no need to hurry.” But she didn’t really mean that. She does need the hurry, ‘cause she might collapse from this torture at any second.  Shawn tries the kissing, doing it from her clit and covering every inch of her lower lips then going back to the smaller ones. Over and over again, until he gets kinda bored. He wants to make her squirm like she said before in the kitchen. He wants to put his daydreams to a proof as quick as possible.  “You’re so wet,” He notices and is unaware of the effect it had on her. Her glistening pussy is inviting him and he wants to live in this for the rest of his days. He knows he has no experience, but this time, he doesn’t wait. He sinks his head down on her and his tongue is flattening against her heat to lick a stripe from her entrance to her clit, covering her with his mouth in order not to miss a single inch. And fuck she tastes so fuckin’ good. Nothing compared to his imagination.  “Oh my God,” Another moan slips out and she drops her head backwards, gotten my surprise. “That’s it...”  He embraces her thighs and her ankles are now resting on his back. His head buries in her pussy and she returns to look at him. It’s the best view in the world. Cheeks flushed and eyes closed, looking so serene and enjoying the taste of her like he never did with anything else. Shawn pulls her hips closer to him, growing hungrier and obsessed with this moment.  “Shawn!” She calls out and giggles, thinking that he’s also in the mood to play.  Not now.  “How hard can I suck you?” He pulls away, not going very far just to breathe and ask her.  “Hard enough to show me how bad you want me, not hard like a crazy animal would probably do.”  He groans against her heat and frowns in what he thinks it must be suffering. How can she get him so fragile to her? He feels his head spinning and she hasn’t even touched him back yet.  “What are you doing to me?” Shawn whispers, thinking out loud. He drags his tongue up and down against her boldly, mixing the wetness of his tongue with her wetness and it’s slow, painfully slow. She tugs his hair when she feels that tingling sensation down on her entrance and it spurs him on to try his first suction.  He does, giving her the best job he could do for the first time in his life.  “Close your mouth a little and suck harder.” She recommends and he promptly does. His lips are wrapped around her bundle of nerves as he licks her before, tongue gliding in circles and he’s keeping his tongue relaxed, what makes her see stars with this pleasant sensation. It’s so smooth and so tender that she’s afraid she’s going to pass out from the pleasure. He tries sucking for the second time and earns the perfect reaction from her: toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of her head and she gasps, body giving up against the mattress. She feels her clit throbbing and the way he sucks it is pushing her over the edge. It’s wet, it’s warm and so precise. “Fuck Shawn, fuck!” Her lungs are supplicating for air and she makes a good effort to look down at him again – eyeing her through his eyelashes – and, although he’s still finding a way to please her, he knows he’s being good, so he gives her a devilish smile. “Keep doing like this, baby, don’t stop...”  That’s it for him.  He tries to suck her again. It’s long he’s deliberately repeating series of suctions, having her crying out in her bed and arching her back. He tests it harder and faster and her hands instantly fly to grab his curls. Her moans are gradually turning into frantic screams and she’s trembling. Shawn Mendes never imagined he could get his friend shaking hectically with his mouth on her heat, sucking and licking her with his whole body and soul. His member is so hard inside his sweatpants but he doesn’t care, as long as she’s enjoying it, then he didn’t need something more. And he thinks she looks impossibly prettier with her beautiful lips parted to free her whimpers, sometimes smirking down at him to tease him; hair getting messier than her body quivering and being stopped by his large hands, caressing the sides of her waist and traveling down to the sides of her bum and legs, holding them forcefully so she wouldn’t escape from his touch.  “Shawn,” She gulps before moving on, throat dry from moaning uninterruptedly. “Pull away, I’m gonna come.”  With her clit gently tugged between his plump red lips, he shakes his head from side to side in denial lazily and it’s a new sensation to her, so so so good that her vision gloes blurry. Shawn just revealed himself not only stubborn in his studies but also in bed, and she’s so eager to dominate him like this...  He remembers about all the things they should be studying right now and maps her core to find her entrance with his index finger. Just as she taught him, he licks the digit and thrust it inside of her as soon as he finds it, bringing his mouth back to her clit to suck rapidly as his finger moves slowly. She fights back a loud scream, covering her mouth as she feels her pussy aching deliciously, searching for its release.  “Can you take two?” Shawn feels her walls squeezing his finger and doubts that she can keep another one.  “Yes, please.” She says through gritted teeth and it’s good to give this word the real meaning she wanted to give before. He pushes another finger into her and she moans once more, she doesn′t know how long she can wait. He thrusts the fingers so gingerly, not sure about what to do and what pace to pick. Was he hurting her?  “You’re so tight...” He comments so innocently, he thought that it wouldn’t be this constricted. He starts to imagine how heavenly his cock would feel hugged by her dripping pussy.  “Mendes,” She says under her breath. “I need you to go faster.”  “Like this?” He picks up his rhythm shyly.  “More.”  His digits are covered in her juices and moving with ease. She feels that knot on her stomach tightening and about to explode.  “More.” She begs and broken sobs are slipping past her lips. He goes deeper, fingers completely disappearing inside of her. “Right there! Oh, right there,” He finds her spot and her eyes roll to the back of her head once more, making Shawn dig the nails of his free hand into the skin of her thigh and suck at her bundle of nerves as fast as his fingers are working now. “Do it like this.” She can’t raise her hand right now to show due to her weakness but Shawn’s eyes are quick to find her fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion and he immediately gives it to her. He can’t comprehend exactly where he’s taking her, but when she stops moaning and her legs starts shaking, he understands it. She’s feeling every inch of her core pulsating as her orgasm washes over her body and he can’t believe he just made her come. His fingers are slowing down and he pulls his mouth away, looking at her body coming down of her high. He removes his fingers slow and carefully and gives one last lick, catching what she released, and one last suck, her back arching for the last time.  He waits for her to settle down and get back to her senses before doing anything else. And when she does, she glances at him and silently invites him to come closer.  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She taps his strong chest as he crawls over her, knees supported by the mattress under her parted thighs and upper half covering her front. He must be kidding.  “Not really...” He vents, embarassed but glad that he provided her something nice. “But did... Did this just ruin what we have?”  “I honestly couldn’t care less if it did,” She spits out and he fears her next words. “I couldn’t fucking wait to have you like this since the very first day we spoke.”  “Would it be weird if I told you I feel the same way?”  “Nope. But that’s something you can save for later,” She pulls him by the shirt and pecks his lips, savouring the taste of herself on his lips. “I wanna make you feel good first. What do you think about that?”  “Glad you finally asked.” 

[sterlingun]

Character: ― Nicholas ‘Nik’ Sterling Faceclaim: ― Theo James Age/Pronouns: ― 33 | he/him Occupation:  ― Lycan Alpha Hometown/District: ― born in Downtown, Houston / lives in Upper Springs, Houston

HEADCANONS

Though there’s no real blood relation between Nik and the old Alpha, over the years spent with the Lycans he’s grown to admire the man and regard him as a father figure he desperately lacked all these years. With the old Alpha growing weaker day after day, eaten away by the illness, Nik is terrified of the thought of losing him too, he still considers him his compass and most trusted adviser.

He still hasn’t given up on searching for his sister - even though the odds are against him, he believes he owes it to her to never stop trying, whether he finds her dead or alive. It’s the only remaining loose end from his youth, when his father was still there to wreak havoc on their lives. 

His brother used to show him card tricks when they were kids, and when he joined the Lycans - he left behind a worn deck of playing cards that Nik is still very attached to. It’s the only physical memory he has of his brother. After that, especially when he was on the run he focused a lot of his efforts on card tricks and learning to cheat his way to a win. It was a way to make money when he was on the run, and you can still see him absentmindedly playing with cards to this day, especially when he’s thinking about something, or something is bothering him. 

He wears black leather gloves a lot, and it’s very rare to see him without them - probably only closest to him have seen him without them. When he was a young boy his father would make him and Ethan hold a scorching hot iron bar to ‘test their durability’. It’s not a fond memory for Nik, and neither are the scars. Besides, he’s worn them so much they’re pretty much a part of his image these days. 

If you’re even remotely familiar with the way he walks, you’ll know he has a very specific gait. He tries to compensate for it, make it seem languid and aloof, but it’s still visible, especially on a bad day. This is the result of the first time he tried to kill his father, when the old bastard left him with torn ligaments and a broken patella. 

He’s got a thing for fast, expensive cars and has a garage by the house filled with whatever he’s passionate about currently. Do not start talking about them, because he won’t ever stop - you’ve been warned. He’s quiet usually, but oh boy this topic is a black hole. 

A bit of pyromaniac, if he can set it on fire and has a reason to - he will. And he prefers matches over lighters when it comes to lighting his cigarettes. He won’t ever admit it, but it’s got a lot to do with how he ended his father’s life. 

Watches are his thing. Majorly. You walk into his closet and there’s an entire section dedicated just to expensive, limited-edition Omegas and Patek Philippes and Piagets and god knows what. He thinks it adds to the whole look, plus to be honest - he’s a nerd about this stuff. Also another topic where you do not want to get him started. 

Likes to read a lot. Even if he had no formal education, you can strike up a conversation with him about pretty much anything from philosophy to literature to technology. I think he kind of values knowledge a lot, and it’s his biggest regret he had no chances to actually study and learn about something. 

His biggest vices are whiskey and cigarettes. You can always see him with one or the other, or both - depends on the situation. 

He has a set of two expensive silver guns that were given to him by the old Alpha and he will protect these things with his life. The story goes that Nik’s mom gave these to the old Alpha for their 10th anniversary, but the old man wanted Nik to have them and to remember that even though she made some bad choices, she did love Nik too. 

He’s got a tattoo on his back that says ‘Death before dishonor’ and on his chest a tattoo mimicking a scar from tiger’s claws hides a bullet wound he’d received fighting his father. There’s some small silvery scars on his back, he’s had them since childhood and isn’t too keen on discussing them. 

100% blames himself for losing his sister and the death of his girlfriend, he can’t be reasoned with when it comes to these topics, and even though he won’t admit it - he still has nightmares about both, as well as the death of his brother .You could probably classify him as a chronic insomniac, but try convincing him of that...  

WANTED CONNECTIONS

The Sister - She’s someone he’s lost a long time ago, and he never quite forgave himself for letting their father take her away. He’s spent the years since she’s been gone actively searching for her, either himself or through other means. I feel like he thinks of her as this pure thing from his childhood, untainted by their father because she was kept protected by their mother from young age. I think it’s a complicated relationship, because long ago he probably resented her for being their mother’s first choice while he was left behind, but there’s too much love there to truly ever allow himself to feel that. He wants to find her, but he’s terrified of what life has done to her innocence and well-being, and even more terrified that she’s died along the way because he wasn’t capable of finding her.

The Brother/Sister in Arms - Someone he connected with when he first joined the Lycans. It could either be someone who was suspicious of him at first, or someone who accepted him right away. I think it would make an interesting dynamic either way. Because it was tough for him at first, he was used to being alone and completely incapable of trusting anyone, a bit too familiar with violence given his age, had connections to the Reapers (even though he was obviously against them) etc. So he either butted heads with this person at first or he was trying to shoo them away because they attempted to reach out to him. But now he appreciates that they stuck around through thick and thin and they’re one of those rare people he’d trust with his life. Either male or female I think it could work either way I’d just be super excited to see this happen!

The Ex-brother/sister-in-law - Okay this is something I would love to see happen. Nik blames himself majorly for his late girlfriend’s death, because he pulled her into this life and refused to let go because he’d found someone he felt safe with for the first time. Now this could go either way - this person could be angry and resentful because they blame him for what happened to their sister, or they could be like 'she wouldn’t have listened even if you told her to leave’ because they know how stubborn she was and how much she cared about him, so there was nothing to be done and it was just a tragic story. Anyway this is my shit, there’s angst either way and I’m ready for it.

The Friend from Before - Someone he met and ran with for a certain period of time after he escaped Houston and before he came back and joined the Lycans. I think it opens up a lot of doors - like this person could now be back in town, or they’ve been here for a while, maybe they’re a Reaper (ooh drama), or unaffiliated, or want to join the Lycans, idk the possibilities are endless! I’m just excited about someone who knew him from before, I think that would make for an interesting dynamic to expore esp if there’s angst and someone left someone behind…

The Ex - Okay just like the one before, I’m leaving this pretty open to interpretation. It can be as casual or as angsty as we wish, we’ll just figure it out. I mean that journalist girl he fell in love with was his more serious thing, but he’s not that young I’m sure there’s been a lot of people along the way. It could be his crippling issues that got in the way, or both of them had crippling issues (entirely plausible tbh), they might have been too explosive for each other, or he wanted to protect them… It could be someone like the Friend from Before, so like during that time period (which would be super interesting actually!), or someone from Lycan he’s on bad terms with, or good terms? Honestly, sky’s the limit I just love exploring different dynamics and also heartbreak and also why people don’t end up working together.

The Mentor/Mentees - Ok the old Alpha was his mentor, but tbh I would like to see someone played who took him under his wing back then, like showing him the ropes, teaching him things, practicing with him, building him as a person etc. I just dig that okay? I dig it the other way around too though, so if anyone is willing to be his mentee and go through that stuff, I'm so there for it. Because he sees himself in a lot of the troubled people so he’s always there for it, even through it’s sometimes tough love. We can always work out the dynamics so that it fits both characters, but I would just love to see it happen. I think it brings out the protective/caring side in Nik.

More, more, more!! - I might add things on as I go, but honestly if you have an idea for a connection (does’t have to be one of the above) please feel free to reach out! We’ll work it out and tbh nothing’s set in stone.

THE STORY

He was born in Downtown, Houston - dirt poor trailer park kid who was still too young to be bitter and resentful about the cards he’d been dealt. His father was a petty criminal, hell-bent on trying to impress the Reapers, just as he was hell bent on spending what little money they had on gambling, or beating them and their mother. All in all - his childhood was a bleak series of weeks and months and years, spent alongside his older brother and a younger sister. 

Their father tried to groom Ethan and Nik for the life of crime, wanting to introduce them to the Reapers from a young age. But as soon as those two were capable of thinking for themselves, they realised most of it was just senseless violence and a promise of a life of subservience. They played along to an extent (training-wise) but generally rebelled against him even if they’d earn a beating after that. 

Eventually their mother disappeared, taking their sister along with her. As it would turn out, with Lycans on the rise she saw an opportunity and ran. Nik guesses she thought her ex-husband had already asserted too much influence over Ethan and Nik so they were left behind. There were stories that the Alpha took an interest in her, which sent their father pretty much further over the edge so next few years would be hell for the brothers. 

Nik and Ethan were each other’s stone during those formative years, but eventually their mother reached out to Ethan offering him a way out, leaving Nik behind once again. It was first of many brutal hits to come that Nik would have to learn to deal with.

Enraged by the fact she took his firstborn, Nik’s father tracked down their sister, and as retaliation, took her away from her mother and the Lycans. Nik saw her only briefly, exchanging barely a few words before she was sold off to god knows where. Seeing what his father was truly capable of doing, Nik escaped Houston, his mind set on finding and saving his sister. 

He’d spend the next few years bouncing around, erasing his traces along the way as he perfected his skills and looked for his sister - using his rage and determination as a driving force. 

Things would come to a halt though, when the news of his brother’s death reached him somehow. Apparently, their father had no problem driving a knife through his son’s heart the first chance he got. Broken and in disbelief, Nik flew back to Houston. 

He laid low for a while, before finally feeling prepared enough to strike down his father. That didn’t go down as well as he’d hoped, considering his Reaper friends got involved - but Nik was content enough with the damage he’d done. This was his first try after all. 

This was a catalyst for the Lycans’ Alpha to reach out to Nik - it seemed that out of the bunch, he was the only one left, and he was borderline insane with rage and hatred he harboured against his father and the Reapers. Which was exactly the kind of thing that was of interest for Alpha. 

He’d spend his late teenage years and early adulthood with the Lycans, being trained as one of their own, rising through the ranks, being subtly groomed by the alpha. He’d meet a girl in those years, a stubborn reporter he would fall madly in love with, and he’d probably tell you those were his ‘happy’ years. 

But his father wasn’t done yet - he eventually had Nik’s girlfriend beaten to a pulp, left do die in a dark, damp alley so that all Nik could do in the end, was say goodbye to her by the hospital bed and then go out to seek his revenge. 

It seriously messed him up, but he also seemed completely unable to rest until he tracked his father down and set fire to the house he was staying in. A cruel way to go, considering he knew of his father’s fear of fire - but Nik was long past caring. 

The rest was history. The Alpha continued to groom him to eventually become his successor but their time would be cut short by an illness that started tormenting the old man. A vote was cast, and though Nik got the majority - he didn’t get all the votes like the Alpha had hoped. Main concern among the deciding betas was Nik’s age - they were of the opinion that he was too young to take on such a responsibility. 

Though slightly reluctant, after the old Alpha abdicated about a year ago - Nik rose to the occasion and took his place as the new Alpha, and has been working out just what kind of leader he’s meant to be for the past year. 

[nxtsoprincess]

Flashback Solo Para: What’s in Your Head?

TRIGGER WARNINGS: PHYSICAL ABUSE, SELF-HARM, GORE, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, MENTAL ABUSE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, JUST... FUCK, MAN

The five-year-old skips along through the streets of town, going to her and her mommy’s favorite bakery in Corona to get a snack. Mommy and daddy were busy with royal things anyways and when the babysitter put Ruby down for a nap Hannah had stubbornly snuck out to get something to eat.

She jumps through a hopscotch game some girls had set up and waves with a happy smile as she carries on her path... when she rounds the corner and bumps into the man.

His face is obscured by his hood but she’s not worried. Sometimes people just liked being mysterious. “I’m sorry!”

“That’s all right, no harm done. You’re the little princess, aren’t you? What are you doing out here on your own?”

“I’m big.” Hannah Cassandra Fitzherbert crosses her arms and holds her head up.

He chuckles. “Of course you are. Do you think you can help me? I bet you know all the ways out of town. I just came over the bridge and I was looking for another way back besides the main bridge.”

“Uh-huh! This way!” Without a second thought, Hannah leads him off to a place she knows with a much smaller and older bridge back off Corona’s little island.

As they reach it, Hannah smiles. “All right. Here you are, mister! It was nice meeting you!”

But before she can run back home, he grabs her wrist tightly, and she looks at him, confused... growing scared when she can’t pull away. “Uh, excuse me, I need to go--”

He smirks, and her heart falls. He pulls her in and covers her mouth before she can scream, in one swift motion his cloak is off and she’s bundled in it... gone in a blink.

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“Please. Please, I’m telling you, I don’t have magic,” whimpers the seven-year-old, looking down and crying.

He smacks her, hard, but doesn’t say anything. Because he’s said it so often the past two years. He doesn’t believe her. Hannah sniffles, looking down and crying harder, only for him to yank her head upwards to look at him as he sneers. “It’s going to get easier for you, blondie, if you’ll just heal yourself and show me how it works.”

And with that he slashes his knife down her arm, scraping a patch of her skin right off, and she yelps in pain and cries.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She’s missing teeth. Not baby teeth. She’s bruising and she thinks he broke her leg... not to mention, the ten-year-old adds dryly to herself, that he’d stabbed her and left her for dead.

Hannah wasn’t going to make it through this. She wasn’t going to see mommy, daddy, or Ruby ever again. She wasn’t going to grow up and run away. No.

No, ten-year-old Hannah Cassandra Fitzherbert, princess of Corona, was going to die, alone, and never be found, in the place she’d watched her life get torn apart from the inside out.

Her breathing rattles. But then to her surprise... the door bursts open, and daylight pours in. Except, it’s not him.

It’s Carter, her best friend when she was a child... or so she thinks. They’ve both grown up since way back then. And he’s followed by the captain of the guards and... and this can’t be real.

Delusion from the blood loss, she decides, as she closes her eyes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wakes up three weeks later, in a hospital in Corona... and there’s mommy and daddy. The boy who rescued her... and a girl, a girl Hannah doesn’t recognize at first.

But then she realizes... they’ve both gotten bigger, after all. It’s Ruby. It’s her sister, it’s mommy and daddy and Ruby and Carter and--

“Is this real?” She croaks out, and mommy looks up and immediately peppers her with kisses as daddy takes her hand.

And it’s real. It’s real, it’s happening.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But it’s not okay. When Hannah finally goes back home, Ruby’s leading her around it all again when a loud crash echoes down the hall and Hannah cries out in panic.

Because it’s not home and it’s not her family and it’s not safe. It’s back there and it’s him and he’s angry and she’s in danger. She can’t breathe, she can’t get away, all she can do is curl up and cry and--

But then she hears daddy’s voice. She doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Hannah takes a deep breath suddenly, looking up at him and wiping her tears away. Back home, back to her family... back to safe.

Not okay. Not going to be okay for a while.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At fifteen, Hannah Cassandra Fitzherbert has changed.

Being blonde got her taken away. So her hair’s purple.

Being a princess made her an easy target. So she wears all black and spikes and other gothic details.

Leaving the palace had led directly to trouble. So she doesn’t go out.

Going anywhere without her family was why she’d made a bad decision. So she’s always with her parents or her sister.

But it hurts.

Everything just builds and builds in her head and she just wants it out, just wants--

Carter walks in one day to find her slitting her wrist.

He takes charge of the situation... never once telling her family. Simply taking precautions to keep her from trying again... or worse. And then he takes her out to town.

Even though she’s scared, he saved her life. She follows him. And he takes her to a tattoo parlor in town. He’d spoken to her parents, there was already a waiver signed and ready. She doesn’t know what he told them... but he promised he wouldn’t tell them what he saw.

So Hannah gets her first tattoo. Something simple and small to start... even after five years of worse, somehow, she’s scared of her first tattoo hurting.

Five small black tally marks, across the scar left by her last attempt. A reminder.

Five small white tally marks on the other wrist. A promise.

Her first big tattoo matches with Carter. A rainbow heart puzzle piece (him) and the rainbow colors missing a heart in the center (her), with the words “I will follow you” (him, across the top) and “into the dark” (her, across the bottom).

It gets easier... and it helps. Hannah stops harming herself. Hannah starts feeling ready to try living again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So before she knows it, she’s at Auradon Prep again. All her childhood friends... but she doesn’t know them, not anymore. And they don’t know her. It’s not easy fitting back in.

So she takes it one day at a time. Hannah makes great friends with her roommate, Isabella, who becomes her greatest confidant and... one of the only people who makes her feel safe without the slightest trace of judgement or question.

One of the first people to help Hannah feel... normal, again.

Then she meets Hollis. From the instant they speak to each other she knows that they’ve seen their own fair share of shit. And it’s not right... it’s...

She wants to help them. And anyone else... who feels like the two of them do. Anyone else who just seems... stuck, in their own mind. Because god knows Auradon’s not great at this.

So they create Works in Progress. A promise to try and make things better... for everyone.

And, of course, there’s Hakon. A pain in the ass that she can’t seem to get rid of... and it’s not like she’s trying too hard. He’s amusing, what can she say? Even when he’s annoying.

Plus, she has his permission to slap him! He’s great! Even if he calls her “buttercup”. He’s a drama queen anyways.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She and Ruby get into a fight. Hannah’s not even sure she remembers over what anymore. It feels stupid.

But Hannah spirals. Badly. She destroys the mural she’d been working on in her room, ruining Ruby’s face within it before realizing she couldn’t take it. Holly, Ruby, the stares she still felt...

Hannah Cassandra Fitzherbert ran into the woods, planning to never be found again. Just a half-hearted attempt at a note to tell Izzy not to worry, besides the fact Izzy was on house arrest and couldn’t go after her...

...but Hakon could, and he did.

When night fell, she’d panicked. She was lost and it was dark... and all she had were the clothes on her back, nobody was going to find her, and it was cold... but he found her.

Hakon hadn’t dragged her back. Had just sat with her until she was calm before taking her back to AP.

It was the first time she realized... that maybe, just maybe, she could have someone who genuinely... cared for her like that. But she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t know if she wants to be in love.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But she is. And so is he. He’s so flustered when he asks her on their first date and she’s in such shock that Izzy almost has to answer for her. It’s so embarrassing and just... insane.

Then their first date and he spoils her, and cares for her and for the first time she’s not scared of trying. For the first time she’s ready to give it her all.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the first time in her life, Hannah Cassandra Fitzherbert fucking fights back.

Because Homecoming was not supposed to go this way. This witchy little bitch wasn’t going to spell away her boyfriend, Holly fucking Ericsdottir was not going to fuck up this night, hell to the no.

So she, Ruby, and Izzy go back in to fight. But they get paralyzed before... to her shock, Ruby heals them. Ruby makes them able to fight off the gas and... and oh god, Ruby has mom’s magic hair and Hannah wants to panic...

But she can’t, not now. So she gets onstage and squares up to Sarah... winning, in the end, to her surprise. Because she’s never been strong. Never been tough, never been a fighter. But she had to.

And she’ll do it again,

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hannah put so much effort into her recovery. She’d even bleached her hair for a while. But when November comes around she realizes she’s not ready, dyes her hair back and cuts it again, trying to ready herself for the day of.

Nothing she did could prepare her for what would happen. Painting a mural in the art room when he comes in behind her... dragging her back into the woods, because he wants Ruby... but she’s the easy target.

A trade. Hannah’s world is upside down and she doesn’t know how to breathe when Hakon arrives with what looks like Ruby. And she cries, tries to tell them not to do this, but as she makes the approach...

She sees under the cloak, and it’s Eira.

It’s not Ruby.

But he saw her relief, he’d grabbed her and Eira and... Hakon tries to defend her, only to get stabbed instead.

Eira freezes through her kidnapper’s heart and... and that’s over. He’s gone... it’ll never happen again.

But Hakon... Hannah sobs, shakily, as she cradles his body, pressing a final kiss against his lips.

And to her surprise, he wakes up.

True love’s kiss. Works every time.

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She wasn’t okay, not by a long shot but... Hakon was getting better, recovering in the hospital. And really?

Hannah Cassandra Fitzherbert is ready to try again.

She’s ready to be strong. Somehow.

[driverpicksthemooseic]

Shit, remember how I said I had the mighty need for the “quick we need to kiss so the bad guys get off our trail” trope? Remember how I said I’d probably end up writing it myself? I, uh, I did that. Here you go. AO3 link here. Original prompt here. Fic text under the cut.

"Listen," says Fowler, "I'm not sure where the Department stands on employment rights for plastic people now you've had your little movement, but I'll be damned if I'm going to lose a good team." He throws a file on the table. "If anyone asks, this didn't happen. That said, we have suspicious activity at the Eden Club. You had... success, by a measure of the word, there previously, so I'm sending you two in again. Keep a low profile. Don't fuck it up."

"What sort of suspicious activity?" Connor asks.

"It's all written right there. Read it yourself and get the fuck out of my office, I've got mountains of paperwork to file to keep you here. Officially, you're not on active duty. Unofficially, I expect results. Investigate the club ASAP and get back to me with something useful."

Hank huffs. "It's all in the file?"

"That's what I said."

"I know what the fuck you said," Hank snaps, and walks out, leaving Connor standing awkwardly in Fowler's space, facing down a spectacularly unhappy expression.

"Is there any pertinent information not included in the file?" He resists the urge to fiddle with something, anything. As a Deviant, he has a lot of irrational needs such as this.

"Are your audio receptors as broken as your personality matrix?" Fowler waves him away. "Get to work."

Quietly, Connor slips out the door.

***

The files are spread out on their shared desk when Connor makes it back. Surprisingly, Hank looks pleased, rifling through them with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Connor raises an eyebrow. "I haven't had anything fucking normal to do in this station for ages," Hank clarifies. "No Deviants, no freak murders, just a group of assholes harassing sex workers." He shrugs. "Par for the fucking course."

"They're clients of the establishment?"

"New ones. They keep shoehorning themselves into other people's rooms, apparently. Why bother renting out all the VIP rooms in the club when there are only a few of you?"

Connor blinks. "They have a lot of money and time?"

"No," Hank says. "You haven't been in the Department long enough, I guess. This is Red Ice smuggling. Textbook." He grins. "Fuckers are stupid enough to disregard the new 'don't destroy our employees' policy. Normally, no-one would give a shit, but as soon as they start breaking rules..."

"They could be facing murder charges," Connor extrapolates.

"Not that they would stick," Hank mutters. "It's an easy enough job. You shouldn't have to put anything in your mouth." He pauses, winces. "Anyway."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few days." Hank sighs. "Not long enough to set up anything substantial, but if we can get a lead on their organisation..."

"You think they aren't acting alone?" It's true Connor doesn't yet know enough about the city to make leap judgements, but it's seemed so far like dog eat dog. Nobody seems eager to rely on each other. Then again, with the promise of enough pay...

"Too risky for a solo effort. No, they've got someone watching their back."

"You want to infiltrate the ring?"

Hank gives him a sharp look. "You don't?"

"That's not what I was implying." Connor crosses his arms, a gesture he seems to have picked up from somewhere he can't remember. Just like the line between Deviant and Machine, his mannerisms have slowly blurred further and further out of the realm of CyberLife's programming. "I just want to be sure. We're going to need trackers. And a distraction in order to secure them."

"Ideas?"

"It's situational," Connor admits, sheepish. "I don't recommend fighting them. We shouldn't bring attention to ourselves or Fowler may have our positions terminated."

"Fair enough." Suddenly, Hank's placing something in his palm. Rounded, slightly warmed by the heat of Hank's body, engraved, solid. A coin. His coin. "Let's get to work and bring these bastards down."

***

The Eden Club has changed by exactly nothing save a sign outlining the new company policy. The music still drowns out the obscene noises drifting from the VIP rooms, booming bass and droning indecipherable lyrics. Connor doesn't particularly feel he's developed an extensive musical taste, but it's enough to realise he much prefers Hank's metal to pounding club music.

Beautiful men and women grind against poles, dollar bills tucked into the wastebands of revealing lingerie. Workers pose enticingly in glass cases, untouchable and all the more tantalising for it. Or so Connor imagines. After seeing the fear in the eyes of the couple they'd intercepted last time, he can't really appreciate the view.

"The Department should cover the price this time," Connor offers, gesturing to an android off to the far right. Outwardly, she's perfectly composed, but he can see the way her pulse is jumping. Every so often, her eyes dart to the side, frantic.

Hank groans. "I'm making you open your own account after this. I'm not raising any more alarms with my credit company."

Connor approaches the woman slowly, transmitting his credentials over their shared neural net. Immediately, her simulated breathing eases. "I figure you guys are investigating the assholes who've come in every day since Monday," she says. She holds out a hand for Connor to take. "Here, take a look. They've been scaring the shit out of the other customers and harassing my colleagues."

They link, and Connor observes the perpetrators, three men, ranging from 6'1 to 6'4, two brunette, one blonde, stomping through the club, banging on doors and yelling over the din. One has a distinctive tattoo on his right temple, a CyberLife logo dripping blue blood. Possible android prejudice? It would explain the casual disregard of the new management. It certainly makes a statement in an android-populated strip club. He describes the men, and the tattoo, to Hank.

"That's just fucking obnoxious," Hank says. "Thanks for the info," he tells the worker, and turns back to Connor. "Let's check out the rooms. Could be they've hidden something there already."

"Hey," says the android. "Haven't you been here before?"

"No," Hank grits out, at the same time as Connor's swift, "Yes."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Lieutenant," Connor whispers. Hank makes quickly for the nearest door.

***

The room is closed-in and smells unpleasantly of sex. The walls seem undamaged, and the floor is solid concrete under a garish heart-shaped rug. No obvious hiding places, but they could be intending to run deals straight out of pocket. "Anything?" Hank asks.

"Nothing I can see outright."

"What about the bed?"

Connor kneels down, brings a hand to the sheets. As expected, there's residue. He opens his mouth, starts to bring his fingers to his lips. "Jesus Christ," Hank cuts in, almost startling him. That's a new feeling.

"What?" Connor looks up, perplexed.

"No licking shit. I don't need DNA profiles of every jackass getting a happy ending here, right in the very fucking air I'm breathing."

Connor shrugs. He can't contract human diseases, but Hank's discomfort is understandable. "From surface analysis, I read Thirium, semen-"

"I don't need a play-by-play either," Hank starts, grimacing, but Connor holds up a hand.

"There's also Red Ice."

"Okay," Hank says. "Okay, that's a start. At least it means people aren't afraid to shoot up in here. Prime environment to run a business."

Connor begins to nod, but is interrupted by a loud banging. "Open up! Open the fuck up before we open for you!"

Hank pales. "Is that-?"

"The voice profiles match."

Shit. Connor's processors go into overtime. He could fight, but it's not a tactically sound decision. If they blow their cover, the operation is compromised, and the dealers will change locations. It could be ages before they pick up the scent again. They could hide, but the underside of the bed probably couldn't fit them both. The lighting isn't quite dim enough to hide their forms either way. Think. What reason would they have to be here?

Oh. Oh, shit.

"Hank," Connor starts. Not Lieutenant, just Hank. Hank gives him a baffled stare. "This is the only method with a high probability of success, so please go along with it."

Naturally, the words don't register, but Connor doesn't have time to explain. Instead, he begins to strip, quickly and efficiently. They're in plain clothes, no badges, nothing that would indicate they were here for anything more than a good time. For the first time, Connor finds himself thanking Fowler. But not for long, because they're here in the first place.

Hank looks horrified, and Connor has a tenth of a second to maybe feel a little offended before he climbs into Hank's lap. On instinct, Hank's hands go to his hips, steadying him. Something dark and heated flips in Connor's stomach. He doesn't think about it. He can't think about it. Cautiously, he lowers his mouth onto Hank's neck and sucks. He has no frame of reference. This is beyond even Deviant subroutines.

Hank's breath hitches. His heartrate skyrockets. "Wha-?" Connor puts two fingers over Hank's lips and continues to nip and lick at his neck, other hand going to the buttons on his shirt.

"We're coming in! Time's up. Room's ours now." Connor looks up, briefly. Three buttons undone. "You can fuck your pretty little twink elsewhere, old man." Four buttons.

"What the fuck, man?" Hank says. His voice is gravelly, breathless, lower than Connor's ever heard it. "I paid good money for this lay."

"And we paid better money. Get out."

"Whatever. Fucking pricks," Hank growls. He gets up, guiding Connor out of the room, hand on the small of his back. Why won't Connor's pulse calm? The situation is under control.

Hank elbows them out of the way, pushing violently out of the door. Nobody but an android could possibly sense the tracker he places in the head dealer's jacket pocket. Connor takes a moment to look at them, wide-eyed, pulling their attention away from Hank's exit.

"I'll pull your pump regulator still beating out of your chest if you don't leave right the fuck now. Don't make me count to three."

"Okay," Connor replies, voice soft and demure. He could incapacitate them here and now. One swift blow to the side of the head.

"C'mon," Hank says, ahead of him. Connor rushes out to the slamming sound of the door behind him. They've already won. "Mission accomplished."

Faintly, Connor notices Hank's heartbeat is still racing, hummingbird fast. Odd, he thinks. Must be the adrenaline of a new case.

[thankyouforchoosingoptionone]

Eldritch Book one Cht 1

    The salt on the wind left his lips dry and cracked, too many days at sea. He didn’t keep track of it he just tried to sleep the most of them away, though it's hard to sleep when you are force to stand, or other wise hang by the wrists as shoulder height shackles keep you bound. The chains of the shackles were engraved with Elven spells made specifically for him. The inhibit manna flow and prevented him from using his magic. The dark confines of his cell were made even lonelier when you count he was the only prisoner being transported. He sat against the white oak of the ship the best he could with the irons digging into his wrists.

     He felt the irons bite, but soon he smiled to the sweet feeling of exhaustion and sleep. He was sure he was being taken to be executed, so this was luxury to him, a bit of sleep again. "You're not done yet.". He awoke to the sudden and deafening blow of a cannon ball through the hull, blasting apart the steel bars of his cage and sending a scatter spray of splinters all directions. "Good morning to you too…" He jests with a smirk in his cage. A bell starts ringing full speed above him, he laughs at the music of chaos the elves displayed. "The yellow skins act like they've never been attacked by pirates."

   Outside the ship, a massive Golden wood built ship with crimson sails was attacking this prisoner cargo carrier. Cannons lined in triangular triple gun patterns on the top row, but single more tight together on the bottom. The figurehead bore 3 serpent like necks connecting to individual unique dragon heads. The elven captain, dressed in his fancy whites and blues, only could whisper to himself from fear, "The Ghidorah" .

    Atop the helm of this battleship, the captain stood looming over a crew of mixed bloods. Hybrids, orcs, humans and one Sea Elf. The captain himself, dressed wearing only leather pants, a tightly woven burlap type shirt, and leather jacket, was the great Dagon Dragmouth. Orange scales covering the body of this lumbering Dragonkin, with his wings tucked onto his shoulders as a cape. He smiled with a maw of daggers as smoke left his nostrils like trails from a burning pipe. "Fire the Scatter!" . His command booms to the lower decks of his ship as a team of crew mates push forward one of the triple guns. The cannons weld together with one powder chamber in the rear, loaded with shrapnel of broken chains, rusted bladed, and fractured cannon balls. They ignite the fuse and the guns fire in a horrible noise. The shrapnel tears through the first hole made, making it big enough to fit a crew through.

  The Wiseman looked at his right hand, the shrapnel cannons blown past his hand, ripping the one shackle off with little damage to his flesh. "That’s stupid luck. Thank you impossible odds" He jests to himself again and stops when the silhouette of Dagon himself shown through the light of the ship's hole. Small waves of water would manage to reach up to his feet as he walked past the broken threshold he made. He laughs as he witnesses thirteen elven soldiers lined up in their ridiculous Black iron armor with the gilded trims. Dagon draws two massive scimitar swords, the heat from his throat was so hot the Wiseman could feel it, "whoa big guy wait!" but his warning went unheard and the Flames from the Dragonkin went fast and hot, setting fire to much of the wood it contacted with. The elves seemed to vanish inside the flames, until it was done burning. Once his mouth shut The elves stood unharmed. Red Manna runes engraved in the armor they wore shielded them.

    The Pirate lizard was taken back, growling and without aid at this level he stepped back. Suddenly, 3 portals opened around the group of soldiers. Purple rings of alien writings spin making these portals causing distraction to the elves and even Dagon at this moment. The first portal, directly above the elves, dropped a swarm of slime spitting winged creatures, like scaled bats with mouths on the belly and no head. The slime they spit was stinky and stuck to them very well. One small creature taking interest in Dagon spit at his face as well and flew off. All the creatures return to the first portal once all elves have been coated. Dagon wiped his face.

     The other two portals released strange tentacles covered in  some kind of chitin carapace, tipped with pincer claws found on crabs but wider with bowl like openings in the very center. These claw tentacles moved quick and made short work of the elven troops. Eviscerating and devouring them as they try to fight back. The elven steel cuts through the chitin easily but there are far too much of them and soon the tentacles retreat into the portals, having consumed all elves. Dagon looked upon the scene in awe and shock, but not horror. He turned his head to the laughs of the Wiseman who had one hand freed and seemed to be the source of this scene. His eyes burned a purple haze that matched the rings. This haze, while unworldly, faded away soon. The Wiseman smirks "let me out…we share an enemy.".

   Dagon sheathed his blades looking at this human. He never had before seen that kind of magic, it gave him a terrible feeling of familiarity. He had questions and this human didn’t seem to be a threat to him. The sea elf ran down stairs with two gun axes in his hands, ready to take on whatever he thought made that noise. Not expecting to see Dagon freeing the sole prisoner on the ship. "Oi, Captain?! What made all that noise? And..All this blood" he questioned, looking down at his bare feet now slick from walking in the elven blood. The Sea elf had blue green skin, and a set of frills around his neck with green hair he kept tied under a red bandanna. His teeth were like shark's razor and serrated.  Dagon smirks, "A new crewmate Innsmouth, mr. …?" The Wiseman smiled brightly, and kindly. You can call me Thomas…Thomas Eldritch."

    Dagon drew a blade from his belt "Can you use one of these?" and gives the handle end to Thomas, holding the blade in his claw. Thomas nods taking the heavy steel with both hands and smiled again. Innsmouth tilts his head to the side at the grin on Thomas's face. "You sure Cap'n? He looks….Sweet like" Dagon walked past him with an impatience in his step and tone, "Better this than that unholy image he burned in my brain just before.."

    Both Thomas and Innsmouth fallowed Dagon out of the smoldering underbelly of the ship. Topside his crew have subdued the last of the elves they did not kill. A few bodies scatter on the deck, mostly of the yellow skinned elven soldiers. Dagon came up the stairway to the topside. He looked at the ship around him "Tell me why a Highborn Prison ship has double crew here for one single man?" There was a clueless silence about Thomas, "Oh wait your asking me? Well because I'm the Aberration." Dagon, Innsmouth, and any crew in earshot looked at Thomas in disbelief.  Thomas rolled his eyes, walking towards the captain's quarters of the elven ship and retuning with a log book.

   The book was small and bound with linen that was resin soaked all over except the spine which remained soft linen. Leather straps acted as the muscle of the spine of the book. Dagon peers into the book of the last most recorded date. 6 weeks ago, and only one prisoner, Aberration was put in the last name category, leaving the first name blank Dagon looked Thomas dead in the eye, the silence broke with Dagon's laugh. "Of all the ships on all the seas, I find the one holding the oldest living thing on this world! And it turns out, the legendary Aberration the elves love to hate and hate to fear, is a Fucking Human!" Thomas laughed with him "I mean I'm far from Human at this point." They laughed together for a moment, until Innsmouth felt need to interrupt, "Cap'n, she's burning hot we best go now". Dagon wiped his jaw and nods, "Aye, leave the Yellow skins and take nothing. We have the big prize here". Thomas couldn’t help but feel his vanity make him smile.

    The Pirate crew bind the legs and arms of the elven crew, leaving them aboard the slow burning ship they dared to serve that day. Innsmouth took the helm of the Ghidorah and began his sailing away. Dagon taking Thomas below deck to the Galley, filled with the smell of salt meat, pickled vegetables, and fermented fruits. "The stink of a real pirate ship" Thomas smirked as he looked around. Dagon nods proudly, "Aye, if you don’t want to puke you're not on a pirate ship. Go ahead mate get some fill in you. Damn highborns must've starved you." Thomas had no hesitation to begin his inhalation of the food and drink. Dagon laughed, knowing any prisoner on an elven ship would think this food Gourmet compared to the stale bread and cold slop the elves fed you. "Come back topside when you feel acclimated mate. We need to have words and I do my thinking in the wind.".

    After eating himself a food baby belly, Thomas walked up the steps of the Ghidorah and felt the breeze of the wind tug at his long brown hair. He smiled, tearing off the rag garb tunic he wore leaving only his short trousers. He spread his arms to the wind and took a deep breath "Taste different, Don’t it?" Thomas looked to the port side of the ship, A young Uru orc boy smirked at him. His red skin covered in pirate tattoos, bearing no shirt and a face like a bald wolf "You got pulled off the ship, a prisoner. The air was bitter, gross, stale. But now the wind carries the taste of Freedom on the wind and it tastes sweeter right?" The orc smiled at him and walked up, offering his hand "Name's Jackoo, Quartermaster." Thomas smiled and shook his hand, then grimaced a bit at the orc's grip, "Remember my face, your going to know it a lot, and Remember my grip and hope I don’t have to use it again". Thomas laughed, his smile was goofy and entertained "I like you already, Just call me Th" "I heard your name, Eldritch. Know your place and we'll get along fine".  Thomas had to tilt his head in confusion, "And what's my place on this ship?". Jackoo pointed to the bow, where Dagon stood staring at the waves. "That's for the captain to decide. Best get now".

    Thomas approached Dagon slowly, not to disturb a man in thought. He was barely up to Dagon's armpits, the man was so big. Not tall but big, and wide. Dagon's voice lost it's rumble now, a beast calmed by the wind spoke to Thomas now, "My da once told me that the seas would take men to where they need to be. You just had to trust them. Break that trust, or doubt their hold and you damn yourself. Sailors only request direction, its her choice to take you there…" He looked at Thomas, "..and here we are, Two men of equal infamy to the Highborn Order. The sea pushed us together mate, now we must figure out if it's Damnation or Salvation."

   Thomas looked at him listening close. Then he looked at the water below the ship racing past. "I hear the incredible urge to jump into that water or off of a really tall place like the nest up there." He jests pointing. "But the voices that actually are there wont leave me alone about my, air quotes, duties". Dagon just stares. This madness was just that to him, madness. "Why do the elves hate you?" He demanded. "You mean you don’t know that much?"

Dagon shook his head at the question when he wanted an answer "Everyone knows the basic Bull..Your a human who doesn’t age…from before history was written, and you preach gods that don’t exist and use magic that shouldn’t exist."

"Don’t forget the part where I was taught an alien language and now all humans and a few other races speak it. How's that for a mind fuck?"

     Dagon smirked at the logic for a bit but then had to ask "What's and alien?" Thomas had to think. He smiled very manically when he found his answer, "Well, something so obviously not from this world that is a living being of some shape or form. Examples. " he spins his wrists upside down and forms 3 new small purple spell rings, creating the portals in the ring. The center most portal raises a small sentient warrior inside a glass dome. The warrior had 6 arms and 4 legs with segmented plates along the spine, scaled male going over the limbs. His weapons seemed to be tiny forms of riffles with jagged bayonetted ends. The left most portal made a sort of dog creature but made of stone. The  creature was infant in state and sleeping softly. Woken by the angry cries of the warrior next to it, though the warrior was not attacking the dog. It was attempting to attack the right most portal creature with futility. The portal raised a beast that was mechanical in origins but with science unknown to the pirate captain. Colors of red green and yellow strings wove through plates and joints with sounds of fluids moving metal rods and cylinders to move limbs. The machine beast was also trying to attack the warrior but prevented by a glass dome.

   Once he was sure Dagon understood the word Alien, Thomas returned the creatures through the portals and made the rings vanish. Dagon was dumbfounded, but he certainly took a firm hold of alien now. He quickly took annoyance to the joy Thomas got from watching Dagon. "…Well I got no more questions right now. So your going to help me out." he started walking back to the stairwell in the middle of the deck. "I am hunting a monster…and your magic is….well I Think I might have found some other kind of alien before I Found you..".

    Thomas fallowed, his ears pinned to the voice of the pirate lizard. His hope rose a bit, he wanted the alien to be the same one who changed him those years ago. Thomas had so many more questions of his own he needed to ask that being. He held hope that the alien was not dead. Dagon lead Thomas to a chart room in the ship, no doorway just a corner that holds a map on each wall and a massive globe sitting on a table. Dagon Rolls the globe around and stops it, leaving his finger over the Sea of Monsters. Thomas tilts his head looking at it. "My da and I saw it there...before the beast took his life…". Thomas lost that hope now, but continued to listen. "What did it look like?"

  Dagon's tone was low, solemn, and angry, "The beast was 4 times the size of this ship…scales covered it's body like amethyst tile plates. It's spine was traced with broken stone like ridges that stuck out to rip the wood from your keel. It's tail was a single long tentacle covered in tiny little hooks, just like the ones that covered is face…" "It's face..?" Thomas interjected. "Well if you call that mug a face, it bore what was like some freak leviathan squid as a head with the most hideous eyes. It's maw was several beak teeth that spit acid that burns flesh like my flames, it turns wood to mud and combusts in the water…I call it…the Nightmare Dragon."

     Thomas nods and looked at the globe "I know what it is, I can help you kill it. But why chase that thing when you seem to be capable as a pirate alone? You are Captain Dagon Dragmouth the most famous pirate ever." Dagon picked up his belt at his sides and let out a deep sigh, "I'll be straight with you mate, I am mid way through my life, and I've yet to find my own MATE if you get me." Thomas nods, understanding the sentiment. "So I want to do one big thing before my…Hiatus lets call it. I want to be able to tuck a wee gecko into bed on a galleon I built myself. This bed will be that monster's bones woven into a glorious nest for my child, and that gecko will look up at me and go, 'Da, tell e again how I got this amazing luxurious bed Da oh please tell me again.' and I'll go on and tell them How I Took it on my own beautiful self to slay this beast in my Da's name just to build my spawn the most perfect nest!"

    Thomas and Innsmouth both laugh, Dagon turned his head to face his second mate, "The fu..when did you get here?" Innsmouth salutes like an elf "Oh da please da tell me again" making Thomas laugh hard. Dagon growls at the two making them silent fast. "Point is mate, I want to give my family a legacy, or die trying. What say you Mate??" .

    Thomas returned the stares Innsmouth and Dagon were giving him. He sighed a little bit, "What the fuck it'll be fun". Innsmouth and Dagon both cheered, as did Jackoo and the crew above who all eavesdropped through the stairwell. Thomas laughed, he brought Dagon's attention back to the globe. "that creature, we are going to keep the name Nightmare Dragon, so much cooler than what it's called, is going to just sit and huddle in the squid waters. One ship clearly wont work, you need at the least…4 galleons."

    "how in the hell do we get 4 fucking galleons when we can barely keep track of 3 brigs?" Jackoo tossed the question at Thomas, who responded by putting his finger on one spot on the globe. Everyone leaned in to see the location, Seaport City. The only human city in the world. Innsmouth jests "Oh Excuse me Queen Annabelle but we PIRATES need to borrow 4 of your Galleons to hunt a monster that eats monsters and turns wooden ships into soup." Dagon smacked Innsmouth on the back of the head, "Seaport has no Dry Dock Construction laws, we can build the boat's ourselves…" Innsmouth rubbed his head and pouts defeated, while Jackoo thinks and looks at Thomas "But how do we fund that?"  Thomas smiled, "Your Hunters, pirates, and enemies of the Highborn Order. Queen Annabelle will gladly trade with us any ink, meat, and Beaks you get from squid, as well as spoils taken by the elves."

    Dagon nods "It'll take some years to do it, getting it off the ground earning her favor and what not."  Innsmouth interjected again "some time means like twenty years or what ever, that’s fucking forever." Jackoo glared, "yeah for me, you’re a newt, he doesn’t age, and captain is a Dragonkin.". "Call me a newt again you mud born little.." Dagon growled, "Enough, we are sailing to Seaport…We build the Galleons to Eldritch's specifications, as long as it takes to do it.".  The Ghidorah ship began it's sail towards the most diverse city on the planet, and home to the last of the human race.

[okase]

DnD Character Questions: Zephrine

B/c my friend’s gone and done these and they looked fun. Original questions is here

1) What is their full name, and does it have any special relevance? Alternatively, what nicknames do they have?

Zephrine Auclair is her full name, as far as she’s concerned. Her actual full name is unknown to her though she’s aware at least that Auclair isn’t the surname she was born with. Adopted and all that.

As for nicknames, Zeph is a shorthand she’s okay with, and her stage persona when she was a performer was very creatively named Zephyra. 2) What hobby would they like to be good at?

Cooking, or sewing. Probably sewing a little more than cooking, since she’s at least somewhat passable at cooking. Also, gardening. She loves plants and flowers but doesn’t quite have the green thumb that her mother does. 3) If they played dnd what race and class would they pick?

A gnome Beastmaster ranger or Circle of the Shepherd druid. She’d want to be something completely different from what she is or can turn into in real life. Also, she’s always wanted healing abilities and loves animals(most of them) so she would want either one really close animal companion or as many animal friends as she could possibly make. She would also inevitably get really distraught when something happened to said animal friends. 4) If they could go back in time and change one thing, what would they change?

She would have left the circus to travel with Therila sooner. Even though it’s not really her fault, Zeph still feels an incredible amount of guilt for getting her girlfriend into the situation she’s in. She feels if she’d followed her heart and been less indecisive, she could have saved Therila a lot of hardship.

That said, Zeph has grown very attached to her new friends she’s met, so that would make changing things hard. There’s several things she wants to help them with and the idea of not being able to help wouldn’t sit well with her. Zeph would feel like she was abandoning her new friends for Therila.

She’d still change things, if she could, because she would want to spare Therila what she’s been through, but it would be with a heavy heart. If she could find a way to have it both ways, she’d do it in an instant. 5) What is their favourite weapon to wield?

Her magique. She has a dagger and a quarterstaff, but neither of those has really felt “right” for her, nor have they been particularly useful. Her magic, though, is not only incredibly useful and versatile, but more importantly it’s a part of her. Not only, that, it’s a part of her that she loves. Zeph gets frustrated at her inability to tap into it, or control it, but she’s never felt negatively towards her magic itself. Because when she gets it right, she feels powerful, incredible, even celestial. It feels right, and it feels good.

6) If you could behove them one magical item, what would you give them?

Robes of Self Confidence! Ring of Decisiveness. Underwear of Stop Doubting Yourself and Be More Assertive.

Or, idk. Boosting her charisma further would be nice, I guess??? I don’t know enough about dnd magical items. Also some of the stuff she has is already pretty sweet so I can’t complain. (She has a cloak that can let her turn into a raven for an hour! It’s baller.) 7) If they didn’t have to adventure, would they stop?

No. She’s gotten a taste for blood now. Nothing can stop her.

Jk, but still no because she’s kind of found her calling in it. She gets to help people, and wants to continue doing so until she finds a better way to help people that maybe involves less murder and nearly dying all the time. 8) What do they look for in a platonic or romantic partner?

Passion, and compassion. A strong moral compass and the courage to not only adhere to it, but stand up for it as well. A sense of humor and some self-confidence doesn’t hurt, either.

Also, it’s not a thing she consciously looks for, but one thing that all of her previous partners have in common is that they are/were all very assertive people. Make of that what you will lmao 9) Do they trust easily? Yes and no. When she was younger, I would say yes without a doubt, but she’s put her trust in the wrong people more than a few times throughout the years and I think that’s made her wiser than she lets on.

I think the best way to describe it is that, if she hasn’t been given reason not to, she’s willing to give people a chance and will put herself out there even knowing it could end badly. She’s been hurt enough times to believe it’s a risk, but she believes in people as a whole enough to also believe it’s a risk worth taking. She’ll believe in you until you give her reason not to.

10) What is their favourite colour?

Blues and greens tend to be her favorite, so I’ll go halfway and say blue-green. Robin’s egg blue.

She also likes bright yellow. Just, not on her. 11) Diplomatic or aggressive?

I’m gonna say diplomatic, but I think it would be more accurate to say she was manipulative than truly compromising like diplomacy tends to imply. She’s aggressive about her morals, but I don’t think I’d call her aggressive overall, and she’s definitely not the punchy sort. She definitely prefers non-violent solutions to problems and disagreements. Unless you’re an utter monster but I’m not sure that counts. 12) They get arrested, and thrown in jail, how do they escape?

Probably most likely to talk herself out of jail. If she’d been put in there unjustly, she’d try and prove it. If she was there justly, she’d try and suggest alternate ways she could serve whatever sentence she’s been given, or if her sentence was pretty minimal and none of her friends were in danger, she’d just serve it.

If talking didn’t work, she’d try and get a guard close enough to incapacitate them, which she would do via hold person or fire + hot metal prison bars. Get the keys, go from there. Or if there was a window, she’d see if there was a way to climb out that way. 13) Would they leave their party for any reason?

Currently and for the short-term future, she would only leave if they would no longer have her. She’s rather attached on a personal level, and beyond that, they’ve done a lot for her and she feels it’s only right to do a lot for them in return.

The only way other than that would be for them to do something really morally reprehensible, but I can’t really see them doing something bad enough for her to just up and leave. 14) If they could own any creature as a pet, what would they have? 

A GRIFFIN. Or she would, if they didn’t eat horses at best and people at worst.

More realistically, she’d probably like to have some sort of fat lil’ songbird, provided she didn’t have to keep it in a cage. If not a bird, a rabbit or a guinea pig would also do.

15) How have you influenced your characters personality?

Unfortunately my stupidity and inability to tell a coherent story for the life of me has been inflicted upon Zephrine. She can be kinda ditzy lol

Also my temper, a bit.  But also my desire to do good and my love of the arts and also pretty things!

Oh, but also my anxiety. I’m SORRY Zephrine lmao 16) Do they have any tattoos? If so what? If not, do you think they would get one in the future?

Nope, and no.  She appreciates them on other people,  but they're not really for her.

The Tiamat mark on her arm doesn’t count. 17) Where would they like to be in ten years time?

Alive, surrounded by friends and making the world a better place. She’s found love and managed to keep it. Therila is safe and happy, her friends are safe and happy. Her mother isn’t alone when Zeph isn’t there, and is content. Zeph travels a lot, be it with her partner, her friends, or both, righting the wrongs of the world, changing things for the better and helping others along the way. They travel, but they always have a home they can return to when they need to catch their breath. Ideally in the more literal, physical sense- in which case there needs to be flowers, and lots of them- but the metaphorical sense works, too. She’s found her calling, her purpose in life and she’s able to guide others to theirs, as well. The world has less suffering in it than it did before and it feels like she’s able to make a difference.

Zephrine knows that’s probably not realistic, and she knows that life never really goes the way you want or plan, but she’s certainly going to try and make things reality where she can. She’s gonna at least make an effort.

18) What do they look like? Either description or picture.

She looks like if a dragon and a disney princess had a baby together.

And if I’m feeling more descriptive, I’d say she’s got shiny brass scales and the rounded brass dragon crest to match, big orangey-brown eyes with some yellow towards the pupils. She’s got a ‘3’ mouth, kinda like a python. It’s very cute.

Body-wise, she’s built like a ballerina, with legs for days and a lean musculature. She’s got slightly broad shoulders, kinda narrow hips, and a tail that she has to lift slightly at the end so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The end of it kinda looks like a giant leaf. She also has small, useless dragon wings that are either cute or creepy depending on who you ask.

Clothes-wise and just in general, she’s very meticulous about hygiene and just as meticulous about her appearance. She doesn’t have the excessive ruffles and lace and gemstones of someone upper class, but everything she wears tends to be colorful and chosen very carefully. She tends to be a fan of bishop/peasant sleeves and either A-line dresses or long, flowy tunics. She’s also big on putting in little details, like a fancy belt buckle or some really nice boots. She’s very fashion-conscientious but not completely impractical.

19) What genre of music would they be into?

Zeph appreciates all types of music and that would be no different if she had access to our stuff. From rap to metal to bluegrass, she’ll pick bits of anything, but her favorites would likely be dance mixes of upbeat pop songs, or something with synthpop. Or funk/r&b??? Something she can either dance to or something indulgently sad she can listen to while languidly lounging and being dramatic and morose. Depends on her mood. 20) What would be the worst thing someone could say to them?

“I hear dragons hoard things like gems and weapons and armor. I think your hoard might be failed relationships and promises you can’t keep!”

Basically anything along the lines of: You really should stop trying; You don’t know what you’re doing; You’re just a hindrance; You’re not actually helping people; Why are you trying to help others when you can’t even sort out your own problems, etc.

Imply or outright state that she just causes trouble for other people, especially if it’s something she can’t refute. Poke her right in the insecurity.

[charmspoint]

I know you said they don't have a concrete story yet, but would you be ok with telling us more about Zan and Ghost? They seem really interesting

Anon you don't know what you unleashed its like past 1am here but I could talk about them forever.

This is gonna be under the cut because nobody has to be subjected to this.

General quick point: Both of these started off as bnha oc's but then reached that point where I was like 'yeah, I want them in their own story' so rn their powers are just powers with no wider context since I aint got that story

I'm gonna start with Zan cuz he's older by creation and my fav oc atm. For him we have TW's of child abuse and neglect, familial death, trauma, drug abuse, depression and anxiety, though I'll be running through this points as quickly and non graphically as I can cuz...I'm not gonna make you read my thesis so it should be fine.

His full legal name is Kazuya Moriyama but he goes by Zan Mori, he's 24. Zan was created to be two things 1. Character design with a fully body tattoo 2. Someone to use a power I came up with but didn't match with a character yet.

Here's that power, yes I have a copy paste off it:

Nightmare fuel is a power that terrorizes everyone, including its user. Zan’s sweat contains a special kind of chemical that when smelled causes mild to severe hallucinations, paranoia and other fear responses by interacting with victims brain chemistry. However, this chemical is only contained in sweat that he produces as a result of fear so, for example if he goes running in the gym, nothing bad will happen. The strength of the power depends on how much Zan himself is afraid and how much sweat he is producing. A weak dose will only result in sense of unease, a feeling of being watched, escalating through general paranoia, with its worst manifestation being complete loss of touch with reality and intense hallucinations. It's odorless and since it’s a chemical can be stored for later use. The last stages of it are very hard to reach because they require for Zan to be at similar levels of severe distress. It affects him as well, often resulting in endless loop of him being afraid, activating his power because of his fear, the power causing more intense fear and so on.

So here is where we start to build.

Zan's backstory hinges on him developing this power very early on in his life, as a result of mutation that his parents were not ready for. Kids get scared of things, a lot, especially when their own power feeds back into that fear. His family quickly spiraled from it, going from trying to figure out how to help him to neglecting him to dying very bloodily in front of him as a result of the constant psychological distress. After that he was cycled through different foster and youth homes with pretty similar result before striking it on his own basically as soon as he could.

Zan's main motivation is to find a way to get rid of his power. He hates it, hates what it represents and how it essentially stripped away his ability to connect with anyone. He doesn't control it, he doesn't activate it, it simply happens to him whenever he gets distressed and as someone with deep seated anxiety caused by that very same power, he gets distressed a lot.

He self-medicates. He self medicates a lot. I don't really have the world planned out but it's very much a world where powers are a new thing and the society just doesn't have systems in place to catch people like Zan. So he basically keeps himself high as much as he can, to numb himself out so he doesn't feel anything so he doesn't get scared so his power doesn't get activated.

When I created Zan, I expected him to be a very jaded, angry, abrasive character and in some ways he is. He's very slow to trust and tends to keep away from people. His first instinct is to mock and insult, he dresses like an emo reject, he's absolutely covered in tattoos, he's a dark humored pessimist and just not the kind of person you want to be around for long. He's also probably one of the most empathic characters I have on the roster atm. He's like, a natural big brother. Any kids younger then him, fuck older than him but awkward and unsure, he's instantly adopting. Fuck everything else, his kids now, he'll make them lunch and make sure they get to school. Zan is more so abrasive out of need than out of actual malice or bad attitude. He does want to be close to people he just knows how that always ends so keeping away is a lot safer. He is genuinely very loving and soft when he lets himself be. He's not great about advice but he's a good listener and the type to throw everything on the backburner to come and help a friend out. He is inherently kind, he just doesn't allow himself to be so very often, unless someone damn well takes a chisel and digs it out of him.

Fun fact time:

He's got a knack for painting and idolizes Van Gogh

He's got a cat named Shikei who he picked up after it got run over by a car, it likes only him and wants to see the rest of humanity burn

Here are his established tattoos, yes I have a copy paste for that too:

Full body tattoo in shape of a jungle of thorns crawling over his entire body, save most of his face. The whole piece is done in eerie, cold colors, with a sudden splash of warmer color here and there, the thorns themselves being colored in misty and muted blues and greens. Over his heart, there is a tattoo of a birds nest, but the nest is breaking apart, suffocated by the thorns clustering around it and breaking into it, its branches drenched in blood, the baby birds in it barely even noticeable. Along the length of his spine and over the width of his hips an ornate cross of st. peter is painted, also crumbling, red spider lilies breaking through the frail rock. His shoulder blades are covered in sunflowers, strikingly bright on the cold surface of the thorns and painted in Van Gogh style. There is a chain of daisies lines across his neck and down to his chest, covering an old scar and a tiny ring of roses over his ring finger. On the nape of his neck, two butterflies are pinned by the thorns, appearing to still be alive and in agony as their bodies are pierced. A silver snake slithers through the thorns on his right arm, though its shade helps it blend in with the color of thorns, it’s body a tiny bit coiled, considering should it strike or not. On the back of his left hand there is a tiny leaf bug, trying to hide amidst the bare thorns and on the outer shell of his ear, mostly hidden from view by his head, is a ladybug, wings spread like it is about to fly away. A swarm of blue butterflies paint the silhouette of his lungs across his skin and two koi fishes circle each other endlessly on his hip. In thorns climbing up and down his neck, there are tiny fireflies, just barely bright enough to be seen. Two thin thorn branches separate themselves from the cluster on his neck and climb across his temples, their thorns appearing to be piercing through his skin and letting blood flow.

The tattoo is still in progress.

This was the brief summary.

Ghost! Ghost is a lot newer than Zan, I only made them at the start of this year so they are a lot less detailed but they hit the ground running. Their tw are mostly prostitution and existentialist feelings but I'm not getting into anything in detail.

Their full name is Ghostown Verb and yes they did name themselves that. They are 27 and their power is Forget me not, as I said previously, as soon as they are out of someone's line of sight, to that person it's like they never existed. The memories of meeting them return as soon as they are back in the field of vision but uhh you can see how it would be super easy to lose a child like that.

Ghost grew up on the street in a kind of do whatever you can when you can how you can attitude. Turns out it's really hard to get help from anyone when they can't remember you as soon as they stop looking at you, which includes but is not limited to social workers, well meaning passerby, police, foster homes and landlords. The name and face for the paperwork doesn't exist and people just find themselves grasping at nothing, feeling like they are forgetting something but not knowing what it is. It works in some ways, shoplifting is a lot easier when you're sure that you can just turn a corner and be safe, but it's mostly just a hassle. Ghost is homeless most of the time and when they were old enough for it their career of choice became prostitution simply because it's pretty much the only job where the customer doesn't need to remember you after they're no longer looking at you and it's not like Ghost has to answer to any boss who would have to either.

They had not had a kind life but they are the let and let live type. They don't stress a lot about things and generally take everything in a fly. They are very extroverted, very loud, very friendly. They form friendships fast because they know they'll lose them fast and same goes with love affairs. They live in the moment because for everyone else the moment is the only place where they exist. Loud fashion, loud words, loud actions, provocative and noticeable, they just want to be seen by people, remembered by people, they want the attention on them even though they know it's useless. Much like Zan they also have no control of their power so all they can do is live with it. At least it doesn't bring anyone any direct harm, they are grateful for that much.

But it does leave them displaced, unanchored. They don't have any support system, no family, no long term friends. The system can't even remember them for long enough to decide it isn't equipped to deal with them. They flitter through peoples lives, there one moment and gone the next. The biggest impact they can hope to have is the nagging feeling of having forgotten something.

It's not like they are exactly sad about it, their main mentality is just not to worry about things they can't change. These are the cards they've been dealt with and play those cards they shall. At the very least they are having fun with their life, doing whatever they want with no one remembering them long enough to stop them.

But it's a lonely existence with no viable human connection. That much does get to them.

Fun facts!

They have a tattoo of a forget-me-not on their shoulder, I haven't decided do they have it before the plot whatever it is starts, or do they get it cuz Zan's influence.

They like to make their own clothes when they can, though having a stable enough place to be for a long enough time is rare.

Their biggest fear is that when they die nobody will remember to look for their body :)

That was a brief rundown of these two! If you made it to the end damn congrats I love you

[mcelhenneyy]

Monsters Band AU

this is an @aftgexchange gift for @scepterofstardust !! i hope you enjoy! i’m sorry it got so long - i promise there is a christmas part! also the same warnings apply as the books in terms of andrew’s past

- okay so the twinyards and nicky in band called monsters

- kevin was the guitarist in the ravens but got kicked out when he broke his wrist and joined monsters a year later

- neil was a touring drummer for lots of bands, he never stuck to one as he didn’t like the spotlight and it was a way for him to keep travelling

- he accidentally gathered a following and was noticed by the monsters who specifically requested he tour with them

- wymack is the tour manager who recruits him based on andrews sudden interest

- andrew’s on bass, nicky’s on vocals and aaron’s on lead guitar, with kevin on backing vocals and piano

- andrew is the songwriter because have you even heard the poetry that comes out of his mouth wow

- neil stays out of everyone’s way until they’re at a hotel room overnight and andrew’s sharing a room with him

- andrew doesn’t share rooms normally but he’ll give up a nights sleep to try and figure out this strange boy

- neil has blue hair and tattoos because he’s found that in the touring scene, that makes him blend in more and actually makes him less recognisable (and it’s not a big deal if he ever dyes his hair)

- although his tattoos are all in places that could be covered up easily if he had to change identity again

- andrew sits on the chair in the hotel room and stares at neil for five whole minutes

- neil looks uncomfortable at first but then stares back, a challenge

- interesting, andrew thinks

- neil realises the door is locked and andrew has the key. bad.

- andrews first words to neil are ‘i tell you something. you tell me something in return. deal?’

- andrew is a man of few words and neil knows this so he is very surprised

- andrew tells him he’s scared of heights. neil continues staring at him

- neil has nothing to get out of this exchange, he could just quit the tour and get another job easily

- andrew reacts to neil’s silence by telling him kevin recognises him but won’t tell andrew why

- andrew knows kevin’s past and doesn’t expect anything good from neil

- neil freaks out and tries to break the door down but andrew holds him back

- andrew draws a knife and points it at neil’s throat ‘deal?’

- neil agrees and sits on the bed, avoiding eye contact

- neil tells andrew that his parents are dead

- this game continues for a month until they play a gig in Colombia and nicky’s parents are at the dressing room door after the show

- andrew goes outside to talk to nicky’s dad while kevin and aaron try to calm down nicky

- both his parents completely cut contact with him years ago, changing their phone numbers and address

- andrew is still gone twenty minutes later, neil knows something is up

- especially when he opens the door and both of nickys parents are there but andrew isn’t

- he runs down the corridor with aaron behind him, carrying his guitar

- drake and andrew are there, neil breaks down the door and aaron hits drake over the head with the guitar

- the room is silent for five seconds

- andrew’s heavy breathing means he’s alive but the lack of drugs in his system means apart from that he’s dead still

- aaron breaks the silence by wailing and neil is broken out of his trance and covers andrew quickly with a jacket hanging on one of the walls

- neil connects the dots, whenever andrews shares a room with him, he knows he doesn’t sleep. and andrew has never let neil share a room with nicky due to nicky’s comments about neil

- everyone gets cleared out and an ambulance and the police are called

- luckily all the crowd is gone but that doesn’t mean there’s no media attention afterwards

- andrew’s in hospital for a few days and when he gets out the band has to deal with aaron’s trial and legal proceedings

- the rest of the tour is cancelled and rescheduled for next year. neil expects to disappear into the background again but the monsters won’t let him

- neil is the only one andrew will talk to - there’s no way he can leave

- neil tells andrew about his past and life on the run

- he tells him how he ended up going to the fbi when he was 19 and now he’s safe, in theory

- although he hasn’t lost any of his habits from his life on the run

- neil moves in with the monsters while on the break from the tour

- nicky wants to go back to germany but he has to give statements to police and lawyers and has to be a witness for aaron

- neil goes out one night to get ice cream for andrew, who doesn’t normally let neil out of his sight but had locked himself in his room

- while neil’s alone he gets jumped by a moriyama guy

- he gets stabbed but isn’t dead. he’s bleeding out and knows that for once he actually needs professional help

- luckily he has his phone on him and it’s charged for once so he rings the house

- aaron’s in a band now but he was in medical school and his girlfriend still is so they rush to wherever neil is and call an ambulance on the way

- aaron can’t do much since he doesn’t have anything on him but he’s able to stop the bleeding until the ambulance comes

- kevin and andrew stayed in the house. as soon as andrew unlocks the door, kevin explains what happened

- andrew demands to go to the hospital and almost stabs the receptionist who won’t let him in

- when neil gets out, he isn’t badly injured at all just weak from his loss of blood and sore from the stitches in his side

- another month later, aaron’s trial is approaching and andrew is especially tense

- one night he and neil are sat on the rooftop together and he asks neil to join the band permanently. neil says yes

- andrew kisses him and neil kisses him back. they stay on the rooftop for two hours, kissing and sitting in silence, andrew smoking and neil drinking whisky

- by the time their rescheduled tour comes along, neil is fully in love with andrew, not that he would ever express so.

- he doesn’t know how strongly andrew feels about him until the first night of tour, nicky announces they’ve got a new song to play

- he introduces it as blue eyed boy and neil’s heart stops. nicky may sing the words but andrew writes them and it sounds like it’s about him

- andrew and nicky are the only ones who play, and the song is quiet with the whole crowd silence and listening

- neil takes in every single word, he hears the phrase ‘pipe dream’ and the chorus is about the runaway with a new name who stopped running

- neil is choked up because he can hear the affection in the words and he’s overwhelmed that andrew feels as strongly as he does

- when they get off stage they head straight to the dressing room

- even though all the monsters are there neil only has eyes for andrew

- yes or no? yes

- neil kisses him hard and wraps his hands in andrews hair, never wanting to let go

CHRISTMAS BONUS!

- their rescheduled tour is a winter one and god neil can’t wait to see new york in the winter

- he wants to get tea and wear fingerless gloves and walk around with andrew

- there’s a day gap between their two shows in new york, so that the guys can all have some time to themselves in new york

- neil asks andrew to go ice skating and andrew just looks at neil before muttering ‘you’re such an idiot. yes.’

- neil has his hat and gloves and scarf and he manages to convince andrew to wear a matching set

- one thing neil does not know: andrew is awful at ice skating

- neither of them have ever skated before and andrew has to cling to neil’s hand the entire time so he doesn’t fall over

- neil is thrilled and spends most of the time giggling while andrew tells him to shut up

- when they get off the ice, they head to a warm coffee shop and sit in the furthest corner, neil ordering tea and andrew ordering the sweetest latte imaginable

- the coffee shop has little fairy lights and is so cosy that andrew just can’t help but admire neil in the light (even though he’d never admit it)

- andrew asks neil yes or no and neil replies yes, always

- andrew presses a small peck to his lips and then his cheek, before leaning back in his chair

- neil doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the evening

[moonshotsandstarsocks]

I Can Make You a Man

When you’re thirsty for revenge, but also thirsty for that D

A story inspired by @mozg-art and their wonderful Rocky Horror Picture Show Roadrat comic! You can see it here 

Small warning, there are some descriptions of blood and gore in this, so just be mindful if that’s not your thing. And as always, let me know what you think!

The good doctor wasn’t used to entertaining guests. Engrossed day in and day out in his work there was hardly such a time for the luxury of company, so most usually he simply chattered to his robots whenever the urge for conversation struck him.

Fixing loose wiring, adding on new weaponry, Junkenstein would talk at his precious machines as if they had a will of their own and could understand him. A one sided banter that would last for hours and only ended when the doctor got pulled away to work on something else.

Rarely the imagined conversations took a turn for the worst. Days where Junkenstein would return from the village and the voices he often imagined would turn cruel and mocking, echoing the disgusted sentiment the king shared. Ceaseless, they would rattle around in his brain and mix together into a deafening static until Junkenstein felt like his brilliant brain would melt away into nothing.

Maddened by it all he knew that there was only one way to get them to stop: by throwing them carelessly into a pile out in his courtyard and letting his rip-tire loose on the whole lot of them. The Zomnics were in need of upgrades anyway, scrapping them was helping him skip the annoying intricacies of adding on new patches. And whatever parts of his mood that wasn’t improved by the raining robotic body parts was cheered up by the bottles of chemicals he would toss into the fires to create different colors. The green flames brought on by the boric acid were his favorite.

So maybe Dr. Junkenstein wasn’t used to guests. Maybe. But it was hardly a bad thing because it brought him to his greatest project yet: the creation of life. It was all very under lock and key, the last thing the doctor needed was another angry hoard of villagers at his castle doors once again. Their screams of fear grew stale after the first two or three times he sicked his Zomnics at them.

That’s why, on a cloudy night with only the full moon to illuminate the land below, Doctor Junkenstein was surprised to see two uninvited guests in his lab. Two guests not from anywhere on Earth. They were ethereal, but not in any way that angels were.

The witch had a commanding presence both in the way she held herself and the sheer aura emanating off of her. A beautiful face couldn’t hide the evil in her eyes no matter how blue they could be. The staff gripped tight in her hand was radiating a pulsing yellow light at the top, and with the tome strapped to her hip it made Junkrat’s fingers itch to take them both and learn her secrets. Surely he could put them to better use than her.

But perhaps he wasn’t the first to think so, because the thing next to her could only be described as some type of underworld bodyguard. Leather on top of leather with a popped collar, his orange and black scheme matched the witch’s and covered him head to toe. The only exception was his head

The witch had a subtle malice to her, but her bodyguard was the exact opposite. Residing above his shoulders (with no connection by a neck) was a round pumpkin with a cruel face jaggedly cut out to replace its head. The markings stretched and shrunk with the same elasticity of skin, and when his head moved it revealed nothing but the same ominous yellow light glowing from within his body.

Oh, they were just practically begging the doctor to cut them open and see what they’re made of. However, when they explained themselves and their desire to see his creation, Junkenstein was ecstatic and quickly forgot his plans of dissection.

“Well he’s not a creation per say.” Junkenstein said, making a noncommittal, back and forth gesture with his hand. “Creation implies makin’ somethin’ from nothin’. It’s a creation in the sense that I had to draw up the schematics, write the equations for the right amount of transfusions, shit like that. But everythin’ else is organic and recycled from fresh graves, so it’s less of an artistic creation and more a scientific invention. Though I would like to say my design is nothin’ short of artistic gen-”

“You’re getting off topic, doctor.” The witch’s voice dripped with annoyance, betraying the impassive expression she had on her face. The pumpkin, however, was more expressive than she was, openly scowling at Junkenstein.

The two supernatural entities watched Dr. Junkenstein pace about his lab, his back now turned to them as he walked over to a large slab with a mass on top obscured by a large blanket. In his hurry to get there the doctor’s uneven gait became over exaggerated and made him look like he was bobbing up and down while walking on a flat surface.

Undeterred, the doctor laughed before replying to the witch. “Of course, of course. Trust me, I’m jus’ as excited to get to the main event. So,” He rounded the table, facing the witch and her servant. “Shall I show you my latest obsession?”

Before either could answer the doctor took hold of the blanket and with a flourish it flew off the table to reveal the body underneath.

Had the witch been mortal, it might have taken her breath away.

Laying on the table was not any man, but a monstrosity. Death had stained the skin a sickly green, different areas being different shades because the creature was so large in mass that it needed the skin of multiple bodies simply to cover it all. Gaps between the stitches To add to the inhuman nature of the thing, it appeared that the doctor had taken the liberty of adding a mask made of pigskin complete with a snout to obscure the monster’s face.

Slowly, the witch approached it to get a closer look. Her eyes were drawn first to the conducting rods sticking out in various places on the creature’s body. The shoulders, feet, even the large screws that had been drilled into its jawbone were a testament to the doctor’s initial dabbling in electric shocks to try and reanimate the bastardized corpse. The Witch of the Wilds had laughed at his primitive efforts from afar, but now up close she could fully appreciate how far the doctor had come.

Being so close also allowed her to view some of the... aesthetic choices the doctor made with his design. The clothes were custom made, they had to be, and while the stitching was good it was more on the gothic side with the leather jacket and spikes. That wasn’t even mentioning the ‘D3AD’ belt buckle or the ‘TERROR’ tattooed poorly across the monster’s large gut. It seemed that her servant took notice of it as well, his clawed finger gently scraping along the word.

Though his eyes were only empty sockets of a carved pumpkin, the way the light shifted within it indicated that he was looking at Junkenstein.  “A little tacky, don’t you think?” He asked.

With a loud gasp, Junkenstein threw himself on top of his creation defensively, swatting her servant’s hand away. “”Fuck off! I didn’t make him for you!”

“Then what did you make it for, doctor?” The Witch of the Wilds asked, stifling a giggle over the petty squabble between the two.

“Well,” Junkenstein stood up, letting his hands drag slowly along the creature’s stomach as he did so. “He’ll have a great many purposes I assure you. Now of course there’s the more obvious.”

Eyes gleaming behind his goggles, Junkenstein was looking down yet a thousand miles away as his vision came to him. He could picture it all as clearly as he could the very first time he put his plans into motion for making his monster. “What he might lack in brains, he will more than make up for in brawn. An’ he’s gonna use all that brawn to go straight down to the village an’ slaughter everythin’ in his wake ‘til he’s right at the doors of the castle. Oh they’ll all scream, probably beg like the fuckin’ cowards they’ve always been. But he won’t listen, an’ the last moments of their insignificant lives will be used to finally appreciate my genius!”

The lab fell away, the dark stone and lights melting and morphing into the streets of the town. Dr. Junkenstein could see through the eyes of his monster as it tore its way through the crowds. Strong hands extending outward from a behemoth body, strong enough to lift the townsfolk by their heads with just one hand and able to crack their skulls open like eggs just as easy. Blood and entrails painting the cobblestone streets red. The people could try and fight back, but without the help of the Zomnics they took for granted they stood no chance.

Of course there would be weaklings within them, the lambs among the sheep, who would try to run or hide. A twisted mind ever moving, the doctor tweaked his imagination to accommodate the problem. Where rippling muscles could not reach, a gun could. It would need to be large for his monster, something to slow down its prey for the eventual slaughter. Not enough to outright kill, but something to make them suffer. To bleed and cripple, prolonging the inevitable. Or perhaps he could fashion something simpler for his dimwitted creation; something to draw them in close. Maybe he could make both.

God, he was practically salivating at the imagined carnage. For a moment his words trailed off at his tongue, savoring their taste rather than expunging them from his mind. They tasted like copper, the bitterness of ale, and the decadent sweetness of revenge. Junkenstein licked his lips as he finally continued. “An’ then when the lord comes out from hidin’ he’ll get to admire my monster’s good work jus’ long enough before his head gets ripped off an’ I get to drop a big one right down his throat.”

Junkenstein’s entire body shook with his manic laughter, throwing his head back in unrestrained glee. In his lab, the laughter bounced off the cold stone walls until his cackle reverberated enough to ring in his ears.

The two beings shared looks with one another. Doctor Junkenstein’s bloodlust was something to admire, certainly outside the normal threshold of most mortals. It was what had drawn them to him in the first place; extreme intellect mixed with a chaotic and unstable personality. Unpredictable on his own, but with the right tools easily manipulated.

The Witch of the Wilds had been watching mankind for centuries, reveling in their tiny squabbles and even adding to the chaos when she saw fit, but her frivolous tendencies were backed with restraint that came from a woman destined to watch the world slowly pass by until time itself disintegrated to ash at her feet. She was smart, careful, and when it was time to give away her gifts she didn’t like to leave any uncertainty or loose ends.

Arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow the witch asked, “What are you planning to do once it’s all over? Once you’ve had your destruction.”

Idle hands now found themselves on the monster’s chest, gloved fingers brushing through the course hair that laid on top of it. Upon hearing the witch’s question Junkenstein’s face nearly split in half with a large grin.

“Well, strength in itself is all find an’ dandy. Keeps ya from gettin’ the sand kicked in your face. But there’s something about a deltoid, and a bicep.” Junkenstein fell prone against his creation again, eyes and hands following along to the according muscle as he spoke. They paused on its body as his eyes tilted down.

“A uh,” He paused himself to giggle, unable to bite back the grin even as his crooked teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “And a tricep. It just makes me wanna shake!” He wiggled his body to the point of indecency, but the creature under him barely shifted. “Makes me wanna laugh right at the lord’s ass-hair covered face!”

“That’s… fine.” The witch replied slowly, unable to think of the right words as she caught on to the doctor’s intentions. Her servant had as well, his posture rigid next to her and his arms crossed tight over his chest. He was wise to stay silent.

Raising her hand aloft to the sky, the witch rose from the ground. Her wings ignited and expanded out, holding her effortlessly in place as she called upon her magic in her native tongue, a language lost to time and incomprehensible to those who didn’t already know it. Light enveloped her until it focused itself into a beacon on her hand, manifesting a crystal.

Jaw going slack, Junkenstein slipped off of his monster to witness the magic before him. It had an otherwordly pull on him, beckoning him closer. The light didn’t even seem natural, resplendent and powerful. Smaller circles of light twirled aimlessly within the beam for a few moments until, like a swarm of fireflies, the all floated up together and conglomerated into a singular bright mass. In a flash, light became a glowing green crystal hovering above the witch’s palm. Junkenstein’s fingers itched to touch it. It looked like it would burn.

Lowering herself to the ground with grace, her feet barely made a sound as they reconnected to the floor. Not a hair out of place or a breath too strained, she held out the crystal to Dr. Junkenstein.

“Behold, good doctor.” She said, the crystal’s green light reflecting against her devilish eyes “I offer that which you seek. The Spark of Life. I will give this to you, and you may use it to finish your work. I want only one thing in return. A day will come when I will call on you for a favor.”

“And no matter what it is,” Her servant was well versed in her deals, and his intimidation often helped seal the pact. “You will honor it.”

The crystal held no discernable weight. If not for the tangible feeling of it in his hands, the doctor would not have known it was there at all. Set deep within the center was a light trapped inside, beating rhythmically. A heartbeat. The choice was simple.

Tearing his eyes away, he cast them upon his monster. No more sleepless nights would he have, futile in his attempts to see his creation breathe and walk. Now, it was all literally within his grasp.

“Jus’ ya wait, baby.” He murmured. The pulse in his hands quickened, matching the beat in his own chest. “I’m gonna make ya a man.”

[turnsoutnoonewasexaggerating]

AU where Neil was dying all along

• Guys I thought of something angsty • So you’re all gonna have to share the pain with me • So what if Neil had some kind of terminal illness; found out about it too late for it to be anything but terminal from never going to the hospital when with his mother (this is like pre-Milport but post Mary’s death) • This is some kind of terminal illness that doesn’t actually effect him physically that much yet (let me have this; Andrew got magic meds so) • Neil has to break out of the hospital with his drugs after his diagnosis (who knows why he was there to start with) and runs, ending up in Milport • He only plans to stay a night but then he’s like ‘fuck it I’m gonna die anyway’ • And joins the Exy team • Events continue as canon until Kev, Wymack and Andrew come to meet him • Neil doesn’t run from Kev this time, which is lucky because if Andrew had hit him with the racquet he might have broken one of Neil’s weakening bones • Instead he straight up is like ‘huh you don’t remember me’ because he’s already a dead man walking and he doesn’t care so much about the truths spilling out of his mouth like rips in his duffel bag • 'what are you talking about’ • 'Nathaniel at your service’ (snarky bastard) oh and Kev remembers that name even if he doesn’t remember Neil’s face. Neil’s not surprised • Kev tries to persuade Wymack and Andrew to just leave, freaking out, while Hernandez is like 'I didn’t know your full name was Nathaniel???’ 'I prefer Neil’ • Andrew is curious. Kevin seems scared but Andrew’s pretty sure it’s for “Nathaniel” not because of him • Still, Andrew’s never had the luxury of accepting only being “pretty” sure • Course Wymack still persuades Neil to come to Palmetto, especially when Neil explains he knows Kev coz he played at the Nest when he was little until his parents split and he left with his mum • It’s basically the truth • When he arrives at Palmetto Kevin is shook • 'What the Hell are you doing your father is still looking for you-’ in angry French ofc • 'I know. I reckon I’ve got a good year or two before he gets out on parole and turns up to kill me’ • Kevin thinks he’s absolutely insane, but then he doesn’t know that Neil’s going to die long before his father turns up so it’s a fair assumption • Neil dissolves his declining amount of meds in his water bottles and that is all he drinks which makes it rather difficult for Andrew to drug him (good thing too, who knows whether dust would’ve reacted with his meds) • Neil eventually clocks on at the sixth drink Andrew tries to offer him, and says Andrew can have the truth without the drugs thanks • Andrew doesn’t care about being called out but if Neil starts yelling about it someone might be good enough to call the police and then he’ll be fucked • He agrees, and Neil offers him the same truths he does in canon basically • Andrew offers to protect Neil in return for him keeping Kevin here. Neil doesn’t need Andrew’s protection, but just in case his father gets out on early parole or something, he accepts the deal, knowing Andrew won’t let him help with Kevin if he thinks Neil is doing it for free • He knows him so well already • Continue as canon except it’s his medical bills Riko throws in his face instead of his names at the banquet. • Not explicit enough for anyone else to get it but Neil is panicked • He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be allowed to play if they knew he was dying and Exy is the only thing he wants to live for (oh honey child you have no idea what’s going to hit you) • Again, continue as canon • Drake happens • Neil sees Andrew’s scars and wishes he had a choice about dying • Easthaven, and Neil goes to Evermore, and it’s only two weeks but it’s two weeks without his meds and Neil is ridiculously weak • He explains it away by trauma making your immune system weak but Abby takes one look at him and knows it’s bullshit • She diagnoses him correctly and is like Neil what the fuck • Neil explains to her that he was terminal long before the Foxes, and he just wants to play Exy as long as he can • Abby is heartbroken • She has to tell David because they have to decide whether it’s safe for him to keep playing, but at Neil’s request she doesn’t tell him that Neil’s terminal • She replenishes his meds from the hospital but you can’t just go off them without consequences and Neil’s lost a lot more than two weeks off his lifespan • Abby thinks, if he stays on the meds, he’ll make it till the end of the year, but probably not past the summer and no one knows how much of that he’ll be able to play for • Somewhere before Andrew comes back from Easthaven, Riko gets word to Kev about Neil’s condition • Predictably, Kev freaks out, talking about how it’s hopeless and he might as well just go back to the Nest • This is where Neil and him have the conversation about Kevin being afraid to take his future 'you have a future, why won’t you just take it’ • Kev is suitably ashamed • He also thinks Neil should tell Andrew. Neil, being oblivious, doesn’t know why • Continue as canon • Wymack asks Neil to be the vice-cap next year. He doesn’t know how cruel he’s being but Neil can’t breathe • That is all he wants, everything he can’t have • He calls Andrew, and that time on the roof Andrew kisses him but this time Neil actually fully means his yes, not having a mental breakdown, because knowing you’re going to be killed vs actively dying does wonders for Neil’s introspection • For the money for the car, Neil asks Andrew to stop smoking instead of getting rid of the cracker dust. Andrew refuses, but Neil just asks him to have less cigarettes then (I am not saying Andrew starts vaping because he does not because Andrew is actually cool but he does agree to cut his cigarette intake down to just the one a day he shares with Neil on the roof) • Kev is more protective of Neil, desperate that no accident is going to take Neil before his illness • Andrew notices, coz he’s not an idiot, but he doesn’t know how to ask about it. For all he knows it’s just companionship from both now knowing what being in the nest is like • Besides, it’s like every day that Neil grows weaker, Kevin grows stronger and more confident, so Neil’s holding up his end of the deal • As Neil starts getting the countdown, he also starts coughing up blood, which he thinks is very poetic • Abby tells Neil the game on the day he will get a 0 in his countdown is going to have to be his last • Neil realises Andrew’s going to think he didn’t protect him properly even if Neil dies of his illness not his father • Neil persuades Andrew to break their deal the night Kevin comes home with a new tattoo, the proof that Kev doesn’t need him anymore • Quietly, in French, Neil thanks Kev for doing this before he dies. He knows the Foxes are going to be OK now • Kevin is already drunk and Neil’s words tip him over into full misery • 'what did you say to him? Could be useful to shut him up’ Asks Andrew • Neil flinches and Andrew is Concerned • 'Neil I’m taking a turn.’ • Neil looks at his hands and he doesn’t want to answer but he’s not about to start lying to his greatest regret, his best mistake • 'I told him thank you. For proving that he doesn’t need me anymore. For doing this now.’ • 'You were desperate to break our deal. Why?’ • 'It’s not your turn.’ Neil says eventually, and thinks that tomorrow, after the game, he’ll tell Andrew why, and he’ll tell him that he’s leaving. He doesn’t want to drag the Foxes through his death when they’ll have already lost the season. He’ll just leave, and only Andrew, Kevin and Abby will know he’s never coming back • The game happens, and Neil and Kevin are crazed on the court, Neil the most, knowing this is his last of the game that had always meant more to him than surviving. He plays with every inch of his being, even though they don’t need a massive points difference because, they don’t know it yet, but they’ve already lost the season. He plays for the game that brought him to the people that taught him what it was to live, to feel alive, to have friends and a family • To have Andrew, kisses and trust and keys and honesty • The call comes when he’s in the lockerroom and Neil just wants just another ten minutes, please, just ten minutes to say goodbye • He thought he’d get to say goodbye • The riot and Lola and the dashboard lighter, a cleaver, his father’s smile, 'I didn’t want time to take you out peacefully after all the trouble you caused me’, gunshots and coughing up so much blood Stuart thought he’d been caught in the crossfire, weak weak weak but clinging on, clinging on to say goodbye • He can’t get out of bed but he makes Browning bring the Foxes to him because Browning knows he’s on borrowed time and if he wastes it with useless posturing, Nathaniel might not get the chance to testify against his father • Andrew’s first in through the door, a livid bruise on his face that matches the look in his eye • 'Terminally ill?’ Are his only words and Neil is confused even as the other Foxes trail in, trying to understand what the problem is • 'You hate me, remember? I’m nothing. I didn’t think you’d care’ • Andrew wants to kill him, Andrew wants to tear him apart. He is losing everything, nevermind nothing. Neil is the one candlelight in his dark corner, and it turns out the candle has been running out of wax all along • Kevin has a bruised throat and grief striken eyes but he’s been hardened to this outcome since January. Something Andrew will never forgive him for • Abby and Wymack fought on the bus journey over, Wymack sick to his stomach as he thinks of the look in Neil’s eyes when he’d offered him the vice-captaincy • In the end, it was Neil’s choice • The Moriyamas can’t kill Neil now, so Neil tells the Foxes and the FBI his full story, his voice becoming quieter and wracked with coughs the longer he talks • He signs a few documents for the FBI and even Browning isn’t enough of a dick to ask him further questions in the time he has left • Neil asks Browning for something quietly, out of earshot of the Foxes, and Browning agrees, and leaves the room • The Foxes crowd around his bed. Nicky is already sobbing, but it’s quiet in a way Nicky never is. He latches onto one of Neil’s hands and refuses to let go • Matt has silent, less frequent tears falling softly into Dan’s hair where she’s tucked against his side, standing vigil at the end of Neil’s bed • She’s the one to ask how long he’s got, but it’s Abby that answers because Neil’s saving the last of his energy for more important words • 'A couple of hours. They offered to overdose him to save him the pain, but Neil wanted to say goodbye’ • He smiles tiredly at them when these words get a heartbroken response • 'You got with Andrew knowing you were going to die what kind of sick bastard does that?!’ Aaron finally bursts out, and it takes a lot of effort for Neil to loll his head to look at him • Andrew, who’s been stood at the back of the room, leaning against a wall but not taking his eyes off Neil, stiffens as the others exclaim at this new information • 'This was nothing.’ Andrew says, coldly. 'I made it nothing.’ • 'I was supposed to have a couple of years.’ Neil explains. 'But with the Nest and now this,’ And God if that isn’t the last thing Andrew wants to hear, that Neil didn’t only get hurt for him, but willingly took years off his lifespan on a fool’s mission that didn’t change anything- • Andrew leaves the room. • 'Tell him about Katelyn’ is Neil’s parting advice as Aaron follows • 'I’d say I’d make a fashion line in your honour Josten but the irony would be too much’ Allison says • She’s the last person to make Neil Josten laugh. One of the first too • 'Look after them?’ Neil asks of Renee, and her face is pained as she nods. Neil raises his free hand to touch hers with visible effort as she stands to leave with Allison. 'Look after yourself too.’ • 'It has been an honour to be part of your family.’ She says in return, knowing he won’t want her prayers or acknowledgement of the afterlife, but that he’ll get the former anyway. • She leaves because she doesn’t think she can stand to watch another death yet, at least not one she hasn’t inflicted. Besides, she has a feeling she needs to convince a certain blond to return • 'I’m expecting the Exy team to be fucking good by the time I get up there.’ Dan says, finally, and Wymack nods his agreement gruffly. • 'Take them to the championships.’ Neil replies. • Abby breaks at this point. She starts apologising to Neil, telling him she should have taken him off the court earlier, given him more time, worked out his illness earlier • Neil waves her off. 'Taking me off the court would’ve killed me faster’ and if that’s not dramatic Josten he doesn’t know what is • It’s at this point that Browning comes back • He has the papers all prepared for Nathaniel Wesninski to legally change his name • They look at him questioningly but Neil can’t summon the strength to explain as he scrawl his name across the paper painstakingly slowly • 'He said he wanted to die as Neil Josten. And he’s also made sure that your team has to be under FBI protection by telling you the same information as us. Sneaky bastard; he knows we have to protect witnesses.’ • 'I don’t want you to go.’ Matt bursts out, honestly and brokenly, incapable of putting on a brave face because God fucking damn it 'It isn’t fair! You’re my best friend I can’t-’ he chokes off and Neil grins, all teeth, returning the sentiment even as he begins to feel death creep into the room • 'Tell him.’ Neil breathes out in French, eyes flickering to Wymack. Kevin pales but nods stoically. Crossing his arms and taking the same posture as Wymack, it’s clear to see they’re related • 'Next year, the pro league award for the best striker will be called the Josten Cup.’ Kevin replies in the same language. It’s so typically a Kevin comfort that Neil almost smiles. He must have called in a lot of strings for that. 'Renee and I are working on getting Jean out of the Nest. I will make a deal with Ichirou. I’m the better striker.’ He asserts, and then shudders. 'But I can only hope to half the man you are.’ He cuts himself off, frowns at the floor, and speaks again. It takes everyone a second to realise it’s because Kevin needed to compose himself. 'You would’ve been Court.’ • Andrew bursts in before anyone can respond to that, and the relief that floods his features when he sees Neil’s eyes are still open shows how out of control Andrew still is. His eyes burn as he takes everyone in • 'Get out.’ No-one wants to leave, Matt and Nicky plant their shoes to the floor until Neil shoots them a look. 'I’ll call you in when we’re done.’ Andrew gets out through gritted teeth and eventually they go. • Andrew doesn’t come closer to the bed • 'You stupid fucking junkie.’ He hisses and Neil smiles lazily. Andrew stalks forward, hands shaking even as they are curled into fists • 'Yes or no?’ he bites out when there’s only an inch between their faces • 'Yes.’ Neil breathes out, because he doesn’t think Andrew will appreciate the irony of saying always. Andrew’s hands are gentle round Neil’s wrists as he guides them into Andrew’s hair in a way his lips are not • Neil tastes like blood and death but there’s something that’s still solidly loudmouth runaway, loudmouth fox, fierce and bright and so fucking alive that Andrew almost forgets they’re on his death bed • 'I was going to tell you after the game.’ Neil says against his lips. Andrew doesn’t reply, but the shakes wrack his whole body now. Neil moves his fingers listlessly in Andrew’s hair because that’s all the movement he’s capable of. 'Thank you.’ • 'For nothing?’ • 'For nothing.’ Neil agrees • 'Just don’t die.’ The words burst past Andrew’s lips without his permission, his control so shot it might never have existed. 'Just don’t fucking die Neil. Just stay.’ He knows this is something he can’t ask for. Whatever you’re willing to give, Neil trusted him not to ask for anything Neil couldn’t give him but Andrew doesn’t want anything else. • 'I’m staying.’ Neil promises. 'I’m staying right here’ • The others trickle back in • Nicky doesn’t make it back to Neil’s bedside, his legs failing him when he sees Andrew has taken his place at Neil’s hand, he just wanted his cousin to be happy, he just wanted- • Matt and Dan clasp Neil’s free hand between them as he’s propped up on his pillows by a sobbing Abby and a humbled Kevin • Wymack places a fatherly hand on his shoulder, and squeezes lightly • Neil takes them all in. His Foxes, his family • His gaze rests on Andrew last • 'Staring.’ Andrew whispers • Neil smiles and dies, the sunrise lighting his hair like fire

[analyzingrhink-blog]

"Song For When You Want To Say I Love You But You Can't"

This song is the epitome of Let’s write a love song to each other about how we can’t say we love each other.

This song is exactly what it says. How to say I love you, when you can't. They wrote it to and for each other as a celebration of the love they share for one another. A love that they can’t fully admit to the outside world, maybe can’t even admit behind closed doors. But upon listening to this song, we both realized there is a lot that alludes to their shared life. There are so many references to their relationship and the things they have experienced in their thirty plus years together. We theorize that they are singing to each other, not these ‘imaginary’ women. This analysis is highly subjective, but we need to note that Rhett and Link’s  inspiration draws from their shared past. We will attempt to deconstruct these lyrics, connect said lyrics to their combined past and illustrate how this song is indeed about their love for one another. Let’s do that.

Hey girl

You know we've been dating for a long time now

Going on five whole weeks

RandL has been together for a very long time now. That part is exactly true. It is ironic how they are talking about a five week relationship, yet all the lyrics point toward a long and trusting one. The type of relationship that they themselves share.

Now that's commitment, baby

They made a commitment in blood to do something great together. They wrote it out and cut their hands and became blood brothers vowing to do something big and great together.

So we've prepared this very special song

For the very special ladies in our lives

Listen up

 It was magic on our first date

At the food court in the mall (at the Sbarro)

You still won't let me meet your parents

But hey, that's your call

Maybe alluding to not being able to tell their parents/friends about what's going on.

(You're a strong, independent woman)

 Remember our first kiss

Romantically lit

Their first kiss (that we know of) was the plexi-glass kiss, lit by all the studio lights.

In the Wal-Mart parking lot

The Walmart Song is one of the many things they created together. This might remind them of their shared goals.

(Always low prices)

And then what did we do?

We got matching tattoos

This has definitely happened. Not only matching tattoos, on the same part of their body, but of the same thing--their wives’ names.

Of our high school mascot

(The charging chipmunks)

The person they are singing to went to the same high school….. Rhett and Link went to the same high school…..(long story short, the person they are singing to is not imaginary woman, but they themselves)

Now I'm ready to say

They weren’t ready to say it before. But something has changed. Some aspect in their lives has made them brave.

 I lost my shoe in the park

It was a flip-flop, have you seen it?

I lotioned my skin with hotel shampoo

They’ve spent their fair share of time in hotel rooms together.

It was an accident

We  have no doubt that Link had done this at least once on the multiple times Rhett and he have shared a motel room.

 You nursed me back to health

When I woke up in Mexico

(He was missing a kidney)

Kidney pain is very similar to back pain, which Rhett experiences frequently.

And I drove you to the hospital

When you fell off the hoverboard

They both love the idea of hover boards. Link even has a shirt dedicated to the idea.

And broke both elbows

This part really stuck out for us. Rhett accompanied Link to the hospital when Link fell off his snowboard and broke his pelvis.

(All two of 'em)

His pelvis was broken and his memory was gone. Two injuries.

 You shaved my hairy back

We are unaware of any backs being shaved, but Rhett and Link have shaved many other things together. In school Link was cutting Rhett’s hair to a buzz cut. They shaved each others’ heads in college. Link shaved Rhett’s beard in the Killing Rhett’s beard episode. They created two videos on how to kill a mustache and how to kill a beard.

Popped the pimples I can't reach

And you went with me to get my dog spayed

(Helping control the pet population)

Two theories: Jade and Barbara. OR The many discussions about getting vasectomies.

 I think it's time to lock this down

Open my heart

And finally say

They want to finally let out the love that they have for one another. It has been long enough. They have lived with these feelings for too long and it is finally time to share these with each other and the world.

 I long-jump on the weekends

I'm in a league, you should come watch

This is another throw back to their shared pasts. Rhett coached little league basketball for his son. Link came to the game and watched Rhett. Link even commented on Rhett’s chosen attire. Also there was all the times in their childhood where Rhett was training for a basketball scholarship, and Rhett’s family would come watch Link play soccer.

I lowered my car insurance

By fifteen percent when I switched to Geico

(Not a sponsor)

This may be in reference to several things. They could be talking about the many cars they have purchased together. Or it is most likely a reference to their The Backup Plan series of videos sponsored by Geico. Not a sponsor, boys? Come on!

  Those three little words

They're so hard to say

And even though I can't say 'em

Yeah, we don't need to say much about this. It probably would be hard to say. After so long.

I want you think I'm saying 'em anyway

It is hard to say, not only because of the area and time they grew up, but that they are also married with children. It would be difficult to admit feelings that could rock their perfectly set lives. But it is important to note, that they can’t say these words, but they so want to. They want to show each other how much they mean to the other. So when you want to say I love you, but you can't...you write a silly love song for comedy.

 I'll make you happy

If you just do this

Just put it on mute (mute it up)

And read my lips

 So they may not be able to say the words. So ignore what is being said. Read their “lips” or read everything else they do. Every action shows a multitude of love. Going to the same college, aspiring towards the same dreams, putting their livelihoods in jeopardy to pursue silly dreams and moving cross country. Actions speak much louder than words. And these boys have spoken a million I love you’s without actually uttering anything.

 Olive juice

Elephant poo

All the shoes

Mythical Shoes?

On the news

They were on the news for their Red House Commercial controversy.

I love booze

Alligator food

Island view

Vacuum

Will it vacuum seal?

Pile of poo

Dried-up glue

Could be in reference to two things. One they did a Wheel Ending a month earlier where their hands were superglued together.  But it most likely refers to the dried glue on the mythical mail boulder. Taking them back to the roots of their show, where they glued a lego man to a rock and it became an empire.

Buy a zoo

Commercial Kings Zoo episode, along with all the references to poo.

Crawl and spew

Cows like moo

they interacted with a cow during their Are you going to eat that song video

Find Blues Clues

This seems suspiciously close to Buies Creek.

I lick boots

I like your boots, anyone?

Is that you?

They did a GMM on amnesia

All birds flew

First episode of GMCL was about birds.

Eyes like puce

Owls can hoot

Another GMCL episode

Barbecue

Throwback to their BBQ song that they did with alka seltzer road trip. This is also a very important concept in the south.

 These many ways to say I love you without actually saying it is true RandL style.  They have only said the actual words a handful of times and it was always by mistake or without thinking. This also shows how they don’t really need to say the actual words, because they both know in their hearts what they mean to one another. It is in their eyes and gestures. It is in each action and smile. So they say I love you everyday without the actual words. The words are unimportant. The list of ways to say I love you without saying it is a nod to these other ways they show love to one another.

See some other episodes where they mention love here and here and here

[snowsheba]

prompt week 1-3

@exulansis-s said: lena, genji, mccree – blackwatch days? or first impressions vs current

first

He is spitfire, but not in the way that Gabriel had expected.

He runs hot and fast and angry from the very first day Gabriel meets him, of course – wild and unstoppable and unpredictable and a damn good shot. He’s young and pissed and he’s covered in the scars of his life, tattoos and scabs and blood dripping from one nostril as he sits, silent and fuming, in the plain metal chair in the dim interrogation block. He’s the gasoline that shines iridescent and rainbow, he’s the flames that explode when the match falls, he’s the smoke that burns going in, and most of all, he’s one of the smartest kids Gabriel has ever known.

Jesse is tough as nails and quick as a whip and he rages and he trash-talks and he fights with the best of them. But here’s the thing: he does it quietly, and that takes everyone off-guard.

Gabriel had been worried Jesse wouldn’t make any lasting connections in Blackwatch because of his temper. Instead it’s because Jesse is withdrawn and silent, speaking only when spoken to and even then usually in Spanish. That’s why Gabriel deals with him most often, as it turns out, grudgingly at first because he has other shit to do than babysit a new recruit, but less so as time goes on because – because something about young Jesse and his Deadlock ties is endearing somehow, maybe, he’s not sure.

Maybe it’s because Jesse picks up on everything faster than anyone in the room, the way he can hit a target fifty meters out with a single shot, how he’s small and compact but intimidating as hell when he needs to be. Maybe it’s because he’s a natural loner who learns how to spin his looks to maximize his charm from Angela in the medical wing. Maybe it’s because he’s toothy smiles and drawling country twang, terrifyingly lethal and clinically efficient. Whatever the case, Gabriel hardly notices when Jesse ends up as his go-to agent for anything time-sensitive or even sensitive in general, and then it’s like he’d always been there.

(Jesse is spitfire, sure. But he’s the kind who was honed into a weapon at an age too young, and Gabriel feels like shit for taking advantage of that – but that’s the way Blackwatch goes.)

He’s lonely, Jesse thinks the moment he lays eyes on him, but more importantly, he’s dangerous.

It’s not hard to make that assumption, after a while – by the time Angela’s done wiring him up and completely the cyborgification, whatever it’s called, Genji Shimada is a young man with enough emotional and mental baggage to bring down a plane. He’s broody and quiet and sharp as his blade, both in words and in observations, and when Angel finally lets Gabriel and Jesse in to meet him properly, Genji says absolutely nothing at all.

He’s not much to look at – small, slim, smooth, tubes and wires sticking out of him and eyes glowing red, but that’s all aesthetics to Jesse. No, what really sets him on edge is the way Genji stands: not tall but proud, muscles coiled and ready to move at the drop of a hat, the way his eyes never leave Jesse’s face for a second, unblinking and unmoving. This is a person who has nothing to lose, and those types are very dangerous, Jesse knows, because he can never be sure what it is Genji is fighting for.

And then Angela is speaking, explaining something to Gabriel, who nods along and listens attentively, and Genji’s unending focus shifts. It’s like a weight off of Jesse’s shoulders, when Genji turns his attention from him to Angela, and the more he watches, the more he realizes that he’d misjudged. Angela doesn’t seem to realize how Genji stays close to her, how she places a hand on Genji’s shoulders and leaves it there, how she flashes him a glance every now and then as she describes Genji’s abilities and what to be careful of and his combat abilities and would you like to see a demonstration, Commander?

And then Genji feels Jesse’s stare and turns his head to glare, and Jesse merely quirks a lip and shrugs. He’s not looking for a fight, not with this one. He’d rather live another day.

(The people who have one thing to fight for are the most dangerous, Jesse knows – because they’re the ones who will protect it until their dying breath.)

She takes Genji off-guard the moment she moves.

Angela had said she had found someone who would give him a challenge. He hadn’t believed her for a second – no one could match his speed, his stamina, not with a body like his – and, looking at the slight, perky woman in front of him, he’s been pretty goddamn sure that wouldn’t change. The blue light secured to her chest is intriguing, but not enough so for him to be cautious; he glows in weird places, too, his own eyes red and angry, and so he settles into position and seethes and when the match begins, he moves on autopilot.

But then she isn’t there, and his shuriken hit nothing but empty air.

In fact, she isn’t anywhere, and it’s only because his auditory sensors pick up on a strange, distinctive whirr that he dodges backwards, avoiding a spray from one of her pistols as she arches through the air above him, a small, vicious smirk on her face that he could only see for an instant before there’s a flash of blue and she’s meters away from him, laughing cheekily at his visible shock.

“What’s the matter, love?” she says when she – blinks – from where he’s watching her to somewhere beside him, and he whirls and ducks underneath her bullets, only to startle backwards when her pistols are in his face and she says, grinning, “Got that feeling of déjà-vu?”

“Fuck you,” he snarls in Japanese, but of course she doesn’t understand or doesn’t care too, because she’s laughing in his face again as she blinks away. Unfair, he thinks on loop, unfair, unfair, unfair, never mind he’s a cyborg with augmented senses and inhuman speed and reflexes, and he lets out a wordless growl as he chases his prey in earnest.

(She takes him off-guard that day, and she earns his respect, too. And that – as Jesse can testify – is not something easily won.)

now

Lena is still small and lean and terribly fast, tackling Genji in a hug before zipping over to drag Jesse in as well, and their laughter echoes through the hall.

There’s a sort of childish happiness between the three of them, Jack thinks, and they’re simultaneously younger and older than the people he had once known them as. Jesse radiates warmth and smoke and smooth, country drawl, and Genji laughs with his body and plays with his words, and Lena is loose and wild and free and relentlessly cheerful, and – they’ve changed, the three of them, tough as nails and hellbent on their own personal agendas but gentler, now, somehow. Not softer, though, not any less lethal and brutal and efficient as they’ve always been, but gentler in the way they speak to each other and move with each other, and Jack is reminded of the years that have gone by.

There’s a coil of warmth, of desire, in his chest; he wishes Gabriel was here to see this. It’s fleeting, though, brief and gone as soon as it had come, and then Hana nudges her elbow against his side and says, “They act like they haven’t smiled or laughed in days.”

He can’t begin to explain why that might be to her, not without going into the past that he’d rather avoid. Instead he says, “Maybe you should ask them about it sometime,” and Hana shrugs, not dismissive but not interested, and he leaves it at that.

(It’s rare to find a friendship the three of them share – but maybe it’s not surprising, because Blackwatch ties are stronger than anything Jack knows.)

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