#and they just typically Don't Need To Use Those

[cripplecharacters]

Is it realistic to use a cane/crutches to beat the shit out of someone/run someone over with a chair/rollator/etc? I would personally do it but I wonder if it's different for those who use different aids. (If the context matters, it's between two characters who don't really care about larger ramifications in a kind of typical dumb teen delinquent way, they have a vitriolic relationship where they get on but express their emotions by brawling in the parking lot and such things)

Hello,

Not very.

Most mobility aides are not structurally sound enough to be used as a weapon, meaning they would bend, dent, or otherwise break if used to strike someone or something. And if you are reliant on your mobility aid to get around, you wouldn't want to risk damaging it by using it as a weapon in a fight. You might need to use it to run away, and it's very hard to run away on dented crutches. Plus, if it's damaged, you will need to replace it, and replacing your mobility aid can be a real pain and very expensive. Unless they have one of those fancy canes that are specifically reinforced for combat purposes (which are hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars and far heavier than normal canes,) they'll either break their mobility aid or they won't put enough force behind the swing to do damage. It would be a desperate last resort measure.

(Plus, assuming your character can swing a cane or crutch hard enough to do actual damage, it would be very easy to accidentally put someone in the hospital or even the morgue. You aim an aluminium pole at someone's temple or neck and you run the risk of killing them even if you don't put a lot of force behind the swing. Same problem with the face. Hit them in the gut and you can damage organs, at the chest and you can accidentally snap ribs or stop the heart. Aim it at a joint and you could severely mess up said joint. Aim it at the back and you run the risk of messing up organs or the spinal cord. Aim it at any bone beyond something like the femur (trust me, hollow aluminium pole is not going to do more than bruise the femur unless you're Superman, you will break the cane or crutch long before you will so much as crack the femur) and you could cause a serious break, like an open or comminuted fracture. Even aiming it at a major blood vessel like the femoral could cause catastrophic internal bleeding or haemorrhaging. That's another reason it's a last resort measure, because if you can do actual damage, you're likely to do a lot of it. Remember, a mobility aid is still a metal pole. You would break it if you put enough force behind it to cause damage, but there is a potential for serious harm there that you don't want to take unless it's life-or-death.)

You could roll someone over with a rollator or wheelchair. I have seen people run over other people's feet using the wheels of their wheelchairs (one famous example is that Stephen Hawking used to run over the feet of people he did not like with his wheelchair.) You wouldn't be able to run over someone's body with it, that's far too uneven a terrain, but running over someone's foot or hand is plausible. Unlikely to do any real damage, but plausible and at least likely to hurt due to the number of nerves in the hand and foot.

Using a mobility aid as a weapon is a last resort measure- I've seen people state that they would sooner look for an improvised weapon such as a plank of wood before they considered using their cane or crutches to whack someone. If you're writing it as a last resort measure, yes, it can be realistic. But very few people are going to swing at someone's head with a cane if they're just in a little spat or are just sparring. Plus, using this trope just reinforces the idea that disabled people's mobility aids are threats. A cane or crutch is already seen by cops as a potential bludgeon, a prosthetic leg as a potential bomb, a wheelchair as somewhere you can hide weapons. Even though the use of mobility aids as weapons is a very rare occurrence, people assume it is more common, so everyone using a mobility aid is treated as a potential threat or even as if they've already done something wrong when they haven't. And if you attack someone with a mobility aid, it's seen by the law as less of a crime because "they have a weapon and just didn't use it." Best not to perpetuate the stereotype as it does have real-world consequences.

I'd give them some other form of weapons if you would like them to engage in armed combat.

Mod Aaron

[bebsi-cola]

i'm sure i talked about this before somewhere but i reject the idea that disability is some sort of great equaliser. disability is exactly the opposite: being disabled is a stress test along every fault line of disadvantage a person already experiences.

it's a catalyst for poverty because people who are already poor or working class simply don't have the increased resources needed to manage a disability, and honestly probably couldn't afford to be costing money instead of working to eek out a living. people who wouldn't have enough to survive without even if they were abled (and have fewer expenses) are tremendously different to people who can afford not to work in the first place.

someone who experiences racism is automatically less shielded from racism and ableism both, compared to their abled or white peers. if you already experience dehumanisation, exhibiting signs of disability is used to further fuel that dehumanisation. if you're already at risk of racist violence or attacks, your disability can put you into dangerous situations that you simply don't have the ability to manage or control.

someone living in the global south may already have less access to healthcare, newest medications, vaccines, or healthcare specialists. even if they were abled, compared to an abled peer in the imperial core, they simply are not granted access to the same medical resources, doctors, specialists, surgeons, medical devices, auxiliary medical products etc. if they desperately need those things because they're disabled it's just going to be worse.

this can apply for tons and tons of different situations. i won't write them all out here but any sort of pre-existing marginalisation typically makes disability more disabling and vice versa. like no, we're not all going to become disabled eventually. and tbh even if we all did we wouldn't be working with the same resources and opportunities anyway. so start giving a shit about disabled people just because they're disabled, not because you have some idea that disability is inevitable for everyone ever so we should care because it's gonna affect us too. 🙄

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

I mean...genuinely confused here because they're still queer? Having gay sex? And they're still using erotic blood drinking like they did in the books? (and they sure as fuck have chemistry, at least according to me me and a significant chunk of the audience, but "chemistry" is an inobjective statement anyway, lol. just because you didn't personally enjoying watching it doesn't mean the chemistry isn't there).

like YES, the books are queer. the show is also queer. these facts can coexist. Anne Rice wasn't trying to create a form of "queer intimacy" that was more radical or cooler than gay sex, she was trying to write gay sex in the seventies. if she could have written gay sex as explicitly as she's written heterosexual sex and still have mainstreams success under her own name (unlike the sleeping beauty books) she probably would have. and now it's not the seventies so we don't need to rely on Just blood drinking to communicate queerness. if we're not going to call tvc straight for Anne Rice not writing twenty+ pages of her characters doing anal, it doesn't make sense to criticize the show for not having twenty minutes of sex per episode or whatever.

ntm we've had the same amount of sex (both blood-based and otherwise) as we'd get in a typical Anne Rice novel, just spread out over two seasons and adjusted to make room for plot (well, tva probably had a lot more sex, but considered most of the sex in that books *specifically* was adult/child it wouldn't really fall under the "queer" umbrella anyway). like I agree those scenes could have been longer, but in that case we'd have to see more gifsets of Sam Reid's ass, not fewer, lol (I'm sorry if people weren't trigger tagging their nudity, though, that sucks).

like...we don't have to fight. it can all be queer.

happy pride, if I see one more rainbow colored gifset of sam’s ass i’m gonna commit atrocities

[mc-tums-fog]

Felonies, Facades, and Another Word that Starts with "F"

Fic Summary: When you started out as the newest member of Hans Gruber's gang, there were some things that were to be expected from the job. Other things you hadn't prepared for. They all led to one thing that you realized you wanted more than you let on. But was that the case for Hans?

Pairing: Hans Gruber x GN! Reader

Content Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Blood, Smut (To get into specifics: Praise Kink, Suit Kink, Blood Kink (if you squint), Hand Kink (also if you squint), Voice Kink (sure basically) Rough Sex, Ambiguous Penetration (This is dependent on how you project the gender to be so its either Anal or Vaginal Sex/Fingering I STUCK WITH THE GN)

Notes:

There's a lot of thoughts that I have about this being my first attempt at smut and sharing it with others to read, I did not think this would ever happened. But I don't want to keep you waiting too much for it. I put my thoughts on ao3 if you wanna check but also if you've been keeping up to date with my ramblings/tags you could see my thought process on it all. Just again to preface a few things; 1) It's gender-neutral but in a way I feel is easy to project 2) There's German words and phrases that I did my best with in spelling and usage.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Today, you reminded yourself, getting the equipment you needed into the car. All you had to do was get through today, and you could get a break from your work. Get a break from being around him.

If either of you had a different occupation, if it was under different circumstances, if either of you were different, you wouldn’t be dreading having to be by Hans Gruber. You’d enjoy the feelings that he’d stirred within you and likely would have made a move sooner. However, being that the two of you were professional thieves working to commit a heist today, that wouldn’t happen. For you, this was hardly the time and place to be acting like a child in grade school who had a crush on a fellow classmate.

You scoffed at yourself as you began driving.

Crush.

The word “crush” wouldn’t be the correct term for what you felt for him. That word implied something pure. This wasn’t. What you felt was a deep, lustful attraction that made your insides burn with an intense, raw desire that kept you up at night. Nothing about any of these emotions you felt towards him classified as anything pure. It’s not like you wanted to go out on public dates, hold his hand, or kiss him goodnight. What you wanted to do with him- no, to him, and what you wanted him to do to you could keep a priest in a confessional booth busy for a week.

You nearly missed the turn to the rendezvous point from even entertaining those thoughts. You let out a frustrated groan as you tried to collect yourself and rerouted.

As you finally made it to the discreet parking spot, you grabbed out your duffle bags and casually walked to the average looking moving truck you all would be driven in. Your breath got caught in your throat as you could recognize Hans standing by the trucks pull up doors.

When you were recruited into his gang, and upon meeting him for the first time, it was easy to think to yourself that he was an attractive man. Tall, clean, professional- bonus points for him wearing a suit, you did always like that. Overall, he had a constant air of this refined elegance that would draw you to a simple conclusion; He was good-looking. But it wasn’t a profound observation, anyone who was smart could recognize that. Which you are. You wouldn’t have gotten into the gang otherwise.

Today was no different in terms of his appearance. He dressed himself up nicely, and to any unsuspecting civilian, they wouldn’t think much of him. You found that amusing. There’s no doubt in your mind he used his good looks to get away with things or be able to pull the strings that he needed to.

He noticed you and hit the truck once, signaling someone to open it up and let you in.

“Do you have everything?” Hans questioned as the door rolled up.

You barely gave him acknowledgement as you simply lifted the duffle bag and nodded and climbed into the truck.

A few of the other men were already inside. You didn’t all want to show up at once to draw suspicion. A couple were already at the location to get things started. But you were missing a few.

“Where’s Karl and Tony?” You asked as you kneeled and opened the bag. You already had double-checked that there was enough ammunition and that the radios worked. But you needed to distract yourself. It had been easy at first to brush off Hans’s looks, as you could say that a good amount of the other men within the group were attractive too.

“Not here, clearly.” Marco remarked. You shot him an unamused look, who gave you a shit eating grin.

Some weren’t as classy as Hans though, you thought.

“Likely arguing about who’s going to bring the spare cars. They wouldn’t shut up about it at the last meeting.” Heinrich said, as he leaned against one of the boxes.

“They better keep that brother rivalry to a minimum this time,” Franco commented, as he went to close the door again for the time being. “Or we gotta cut one loose.”

“Then there will be an argument on who has to go.” Hans muttered right before it shut.

You hated how your ears only perked up at the sound of his voice. You felt you could lose yourself in it. Whenever he spoke, either discussing the inner workings of the target buildings or the step-by-step instructions, it didn’t matter; You could sit and listen for as long as possible.

Though now, “listening” would be an exaggeration. Of course, there were times when you had to pay attention, but focusing too much on his voice led your mind to other things he could be saying to you. It was a shame. Seeing his mind at work, carefully planning heists, him having this sense of preciseness, it was a wonder to witness. It did end up aiding in that attractiveness, along with his voice. But initially, you rationalized to yourself that you were just feeling lonely. This line of work wasn’t easy to have a partner on the side. Unless they knew what you did. And rarely did they ever.

You wish you could do what you did during those early weeks of starting off and paid these other factors of attractiveness no mind. Believe that you just needed to get out, connect with the more ‘normal’ friends you had. Have a few one-night flings if you are that lonely.

Not long after, Hans hit the truck again. Franco got up to open it.

“Quick for thirty make a bet on who lost.” Marco said.

You and Uli said “Karl” in unison while Heinrich and James said “Tony” without missing a beat.

“I’m going Tony.” Marco said, then pointed to Franco, who ignored him and opened the door.

It was Karl.

Being ninety dollars richer was chump change compared to what the expected take was going to be. But it was amusing to see Marco slam his fist against the truck’s walls.

Once Karl and Hans got in and the doors closed, the truck began moving and Hans quickly ran over what was going to happen. You already knew the intricacies of the plan. But your mind had focused on the fact that you would have to be working closely with him throughout this heist. Compared to the last heist, which was your first, there were going to be more security guards. He needed someone to watch his back, he told you. You agreed to it, but in your mind, your thoughts were racing on how this was going to be a difficult time for you.

Not because of lack of skill. But because of what happened during your first heist with them. After having occasional but easily dismissible thoughts about Hans during those months of planning. Once you saw him at work for the first time, you knew at once you were completely, utterly fucked.

His commanding presence he had during the planning was pushed to the max. His calculated and confidence he had over his control over the whole situation. And by God how he could use his gun.

You recalled when things had slightly gone awry, and he had to kill someone. You saw him shoot the man without hesitation. The man had fell forward onto him, getting some blood on his clothing. He pushed him off, and you could hear him mutter in irritation about how he didn’t want his suit ruined. In staring at him, your immediate thought was how you wanted to be the one to ruin his suit.

You wanted to immediately shoot yourself for that thought and having it during the job no less. You hoped and prayed to whatever you could believe in that moment that it wasn’t one of those “Freudian Slips” you heard about. It was a tense situation, seeing that the kill caused a disruption in the plans. Your mind must have been trying to work through it. That’s all. Nothing more.

But throughout the whole heist, those kinds of thoughts didn’t go away; They only got worse.

His commanding voice over the radio telling you what needed to be done. The way he still tried to keep up his perfect appearance such as fixing his hair over the course of the robbery. The small moments where he raised his voice in both English and German when things were starting to get intense. And when it was over, when all of you got out of the building and he sent a wild, dangerous smirk to you, knowing that things went according to plan, it cemented in your mind that your thoughts weren’t one off.

The sigh of relief you had once the mission was completely over had not been for the same reason that the others let out sighs. For you, it meant that you could get away for a little bit to regain your control over your thoughts and feelings. Of course, that went all out the window when Hans pulled you aside to congratulate you on a first job well done with him.

Safe to say you had practically released yourself once you barely made your way through the front door of your home and went to bed in shame.

You worried in the back of your mind that this job was likely going to result in the same outcome as that night, only tenfold.

After moments of driving, you all could feel the truck come to a stop, signaling that you were near the location. One of the more upscale banks in the city. You had already passed out the equipment to everyone, and so Franco opened the door again. One by one you all exited the truck.

A rush of exhilaration hit you, making you remember why despite the dread of having to come back to work with Hans, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. You loved this line of work. So, the day after your initial heist, you made use of your skills in deceit and acting to bury any of those feelings deep down to maintain an appropriate relationship with him. Only speaking when spoken to, offering polite but short conversations with him. Never went out of line to what was considered professional.

However, your heart began pounding for a different reason, as you all began to disperse into the groups that were made during the planning. Karl, Franco, Marco and Uli were set to go in the front to cause the controlled chaos to distract the unsuspecting patrons and security guards. James and Heinrich were set to take the sides to make sure no one had tried to make an escape while looking out for the police. Alexander was to quickly run interference with Theo and Eddie, who, if things had gone smoothly, were already in the building, and then came back to Fritz who was running the truck. They would both be waiting for Tony and Kristoff, who would have the spare cars, who would also start to load the truck with what had been in the bank vaults.

It would be up to you and Hans to secure the route from the back.

The two of you waited by the back entrance, Hans began to set his radio to the channel frequency that the guards had on, as Theo told him in the days prior and was hopefully at this point listening in on the channel as well. You prepared by getting your gun out and making sure the magazine was loaded.

Looking back up, you caught the brief second of Hans looking over to you, or more towards your hands as you worked the gun. Just as quickly as you caught it, he looked up to meet your gaze.

“Bist du bereit?” He asked.

There were practical benefits to being around him. You were able to catch onto German phrases and words he said at times. And being a fast learner, you would say you were efficient enough in it.

You nodded. “Ich bin bereit.”

He got the gleam in his eyes that he had during the times that he was planning for this. You knew well by now that he was just as excited as you were, despite the calm demeanor he always kept on.

That’s one of the things that intrigued you to him and found increasingly attractive. Despite the professional appearance he kept on, how he always seemed annoyed by the others when they acted out, you could tell he enjoyed the chaotic nature of this work. He was in his element. And you realized this quickly as he often sought out your company. Which often ruined your attempts to try to maintain that professional, appropriate relationship.

You were certain it was because you were new in his gang, and he wanted to know what assets you brought. And you could say you brought a lot. For this heist he had asked you for aid in planning it out. Throughout the times you were with him, he valued what you had to say, always maintaining eye contact, never shooting down your ideas. It was nice to know your talents weren’t going to waste. Still, that proximity whenever he invited you into his office to work with him was rough. You constantly had to fight down the thoughts of wanting to jump at him and have him on his desk.

Just like now, you were fighting an urge to lunge at him. You just looked ahead at the door. Not long after, from the distance you could hear the faint gunshots and shouting, then soon after the yelling from the guards. Hans quickly switched over to the channel that Theo had planned to be on.

“Go ahead.” You could hear the upbeat manner in Theo’s voice over the radio.

Hans made his way first and you followed suit. Security guards were likely to be trying to deal with what was going on in the front, but it was likely they were making their way through to secure all of the exits. So, the two of you had to be quick and careful. Not that either of you would’ve mind having a body count by the end of this, but it would make things easier not to.

The building would normally have gone on lockdown by this point, but with Theo having gotten here early using well-made ID’s, he made sure the back exit wasn’t. You could imagine he was sitting in the security room, feet on the desk while watching over the cameras and having control over the locks. Including the bank vaults.

In no time you made it to the bank vaults, seeing the extra bags Eddie had placed in a discreet location on the morning of when arriving with Theo to get this heist started. Seeing that there was now extra room in your personal duffle bag, you placed it down onto the table and waited for the clear ahead to start opening the vaults up.

Hans took note of what you were doing. “Quick thinking. Now our projected take could increase if we make haste.”

Despite your best efforts to maintain that professional and appropriate distance, you couldn’t help at times to engage with him, just to get a rise out of him and to satisfy yourself. But other times he was also good company to engage with. Always having something to say yet never wasting his breath. It felt like a good engagement of your intellect whenever you talked with him.

“No, it will still be the same.” You spoke.

“How so?” He furrowed his brows.

“Simple. This duffle bag has been mine for years. So, whatever I put in there will be mine.”

You weren’t serious, as much as you wanted to be. And he could see that, as he sent an amused grin to you. It wasn’t often that he cracked a smile at anyone else. At least anyone that he knew. The strangers Hans would have to snake his way through with a polite smile and fake laughter. Really the only person you ever saw him smile at was Theo during your time in the gang. Perhaps something about your sense of humor was compatible with his, as you could make him laugh during the times when you were able to keep down your more perverse thoughts about him.

Though, at times, the more perverse thoughts were preferable. Because in those moments when he did laugh, or even smiled genuinely, you could feel your heart leap a bit. As time went on, you found yourself staring at him and getting an urge to find out what made him tick. To know him more intimately.

These thoughts that you couldn’t pinpoint, or even wanted to, were a lot more embarrassing somehow. At least the lustful thoughts were straightforward. But the other feelings you got when you looked at him weren’t. It was ridiculous. As you waited for Theo’s signal, you had to remind yourself that this was not the time or place to have any kinds of feelings, impure or otherwise.

Luckily, Theo gave you the clear ahead to get started and you and Hans began to quickly open the vaults and start stuffing the bags as much as you could.

Even actively knowing you had to fight off the urges and focus on the tasks at hand, you couldn’t help but sneak glances in his direction. Unsurprisingly, you found yourself facing the same problems previously. Only now, you were getting a better view than the previous heist, on a lot of things. You could see the payoff of those times he explained how he was to execute his plan. See him actively work, watch his hands move meticulously, see his face contort to pure concentration to the tasks at hand.

You had to keep subtly hitting yourself as you packed to bring you back into reality and to quit leering at him.

After adequately stuffing your own duffle bag, you figured that you would quickly make your way to the truck to place it in there. You would need both of your hands to carry the extra bags that had already been brought.

You didn’t waste time informing Hans what you were doing. If he got angry at you for not giving a heads up, it wouldn’t have been the worst thing truth be told. He did look a little hotter when he was riled up.

With that in mind-as much as it shouldn’t be this time around- you made your way back to where you two had made a clear path. The gunfire and shouting were muffled, so you knew the guards were still occupied. Quietly yet quickly making your way, you were glad to have made the choice to go to the truck with just this first as it was heavy. But nothing you couldn’t manage.

Exiting out the back, you found Kristoff waiting by the truck. He saw you and expertly caught the duffle bag when you tossed it.

“I’ll count this, and if I find you pocket any of it-” He began to joke.

“Yeah yeah shut up load it.” You rushed back to the exit.

You were never afraid to have a bit of a bite within this group. Most of the other men did with each other, and even towards Hans, much to his annoyance. So, you did as well. It made it easier to be curt with him and end the conversation as soon as you felt your thoughts getting better of you. He reacted just the same whenever you were like that, waving you off or dismissing you. Though recently he had been challenging you back, which made you weak. But then you just do the same thing he’d done to you and leave. Overall, you felt that you were doing a well enough job at keeping the feelings down.

You admit, your thoughts were sidetracked on Hans once more. So, when a straggling security guard that either managed to get away or was already somewhere else when the heist began got the jump on you, you were quick to be embarrassed with yourself. Already imagining Theo laughing his ass off first and then telling Hans what was going on next.

You could accept the brief mockery from Theo after you guys got finished, but any form of insult from Hans might just do you in. And not in the sense that your ego would be bruised.

Now the idea of Hans being insulting towards you almost made you want to be poor at handling this guy.

Sadly, not the time or place. Adrenaline kicked in and you got him off of you as quickly as he jumped on you. Your gun flew out of your sling as you had maneuvered him off, so you had to be quick with your hands. His gun fired but you had been able to grab it right before it went off. The intense ringing in your ear was nothing new, but you still had to push through. Getting the gun fully out of his hand and punching him hard in the face, you didn’t waste time shooting him in the face.

He dropped dead to the ground instantly. And you suddenly wanted to hit yourself on the head. That would’ve been the perfect time to get injured and be forced to take leave off of work.

Before reprimanding yourself, you realized Hans was standing just a few feet in front of you, bags in both of his hands.

“Were you just watching me?” You asked, hoping that the flush in your face wasn’t too noticeable as you picked back your gun up, or something that could’ve been brushed off.

“I was waiting. There was not enough space to walk by as you two fought.” He stepped over the body and moved past you, instantly understanding that he let the bag hit you on purpose as you quickly caught his grin before he made his way down the hall. “Now there is.”

“Backpfeifengesicht!” You called out to him, and you could hear his faint chuckle echo through the halls. You huffed and went back to the safes.

After a few minutes of stuffing the next bags, you saw Hans enter in to load up the last few ones. Right before however, he almost casually rubbed down and patted at your shoulder.

“Good work.”

It happened so quickly that you nearly didn’t process it. But you had to snap yourself back into reality and just made quicker work in loading the bags. You paid the compliment no mind verbally, instead just telling him that you were nearly done with loading up the two bags by your side. On the inside however, you started to beam and become even more frustrated at the same time. You expected this job to be harder, yes. But having to experience more physical contact with him was something you hadn’t prepared your mind for. Sure, if he had needed to direct you somewhere he lightly guided you by ever so faintly placing his hand on your shoulder, that made sense.

This one however felt… more. Was the best way to describe it. Which was objectively true. He didn’t need to place his hands onto people unless he had a point to make, like pushing them away or directing them to a location. This wasn’t something to be expected of him.

And to be paired with a compliment…

You were much quicker in leaving the safe room, carrying the bags. Of course you would have to come back to cover him, as he needed. But you needed a moment to have air to yourself.

Not long after coming back from handing Tony the next bags, Hans was also about ready. You grabbed one of them so he could have a free hand. Theo radioed in.

“Just when I’m working on getting the security footage out, I get notified by one of the guards that the police are closing in. So, hurry it up.”

Hans, once again to your surprise, placed a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. Keeping your cool, he handed you the other bag.

“Take this out to the truck and get a car secured. I am going to signal to the front group that it’s time to go.”

You nodded and began to quickly make your way to the back. It was about halfway through that your brain suddenly got onto the latter part of what he asked. Having to drive one of the cars was to be expected, that wasn’t what caught your attention. What caught your attention was how it sounded like he was going to join you.

You had to have been overthinking that detail. You knew Eddie and Theo would have their own cars as they had planted themselves to just be simple bystanders and patrons within the bank. With Alexander, James, and Heinrich likely splitting off to join either one in the car, seeing as far as you knew, no one saw them. Tony and Kristoff were likely going to stay with Fritz to keep eyes on both the money and the roads, with Karl more than likely joining them to be safe. That still left one of the other three at the very least to get into the car with you.

Just as you expected, Karl managed to leave quickly before the others and already be by the truck. You handed him the two bags, him being quick to load it up. Kristoff took the passenger seat of the truck and Karl and Tony got into the back and shut the door. But not before Karl gave you the keys to either car. Of course, they were the first to leave, needing to secure the money after all.

You decided to pick one of the more subtle cars, which wasn’t all that subtle, Hans still had taste. To get the other car ready you at least unlocked it for them and placed the key inside. You were quick to get to the other car and onto the driver’s side, already starting it up so it was ready to go. Soon after, Hans was exiting out to the back and saw you, making his way over to the passenger side.

“I didn’t take you as the type to drive a getaway.” He remarked as he got in.

“If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.” You closed your door.

“Then start driving.”

Oh, fuck me, of course, you thought. Of course, you two had to have this car to yourself.

You didn’t let that falter you as you made your way out of the bank area as discreetly as you could. At least you could focus on the roads to distract your mind. That and the faint police sirens also served as a good distraction as well.

Although you still had to listen to Hans as he directed you on which roads to take. Now that there had been a more stable environment where you could get a solid look at him, his appearance was a bit disheveled. You had to find a quick and effortless way to tune him out and only process what he was saying that was of immediate importance.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to be out of earshot from the sirens. You found yourself relaxing a bit.

Which wasn’t a long time relaxing as you heard Hans let out a breathy laugh, and out of the corner of your eye caught him re-adjusting his hair.

“Das hast du gut gemacht.” He said with that same gleam in his eyes as before you started the heist.

You felt your brain had a short circuit, not immediately answering him back. Fighting to get your mind out of the gutter so that you two didn’t land in a gutter from crashing the car, you quickly thanked him. You hoped your delay in speech would be taken as you focusing on the road. Same with you gripping the wheel just a bit too tightly.

Even when giving your attention onto the road ahead, you could feel his intense stare on you. Before you could ask yourself why he had been doing that, it was answered quickly as you felt a soft cloth on the side of your face.

You flinched, looking over to him, not hiding the confusion in your face. He had a handkerchief in his hand, which now you could see was starting to turn red.

“What are you doing?” Like you couldn’t put it together.

“There’s a cut on your cheek. I’m wiping it off on the chance a passerby notices or the police pull us over.” He stated.

You were quick to grab it from him, putting pressure on the cut. It must’ve come from the stray bullet the guard shot.

“The police won’t pull us over.” You said.

A beat of silence. Hans moved his hand away.

“You’re supposed to drive with both hands.”

“Please.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I’m an expert at driving with one hand. It’s not a problem for me to keep the other busy.”

You hated how easy it was to walk into those dirty thoughts of yours and had to stop yourself from going any further.

“I’ll remember that when you crash the car and we land in a ditch.” He said.

You made a show of waving the handkerchief and then tucking it in one of your pockets, like you were getting back at him for insulting you. But really, you figured you were going to wash it out first before giving it back to him. You were a criminal, not a monster.

With both your hands back on the wheel, you focused back on the road that would eventually lead to the current hideout. Which, now that this heist was complete, wouldn’t be one much longer. Hans has described previously that within the next few weeks they would move the base of operations somewhere else.

When arriving back, the sun had begun to set, and you could see the truck already in the lot. Parking, exiting the car and going into the warehouse, you and Hans didn’t have to wait long for the rest to come back. He began distributing the cut to each of you, with delighted cheers and hollering. You were all satisfied, though that tiny part of you wished you were able to keep just a little extra from your bag. Still, you began to catch on that after a heist was committed, it would call for a slight celebration of your victory and spoils. “Slight” for some of the men meant they had one too many drinks.

Not to say that you didn’t have a few, but you certainly weren’t as bad as some of them.

You would’ve drunk more, but even just a few in you could tell you were beginning to be careless, sneaking longer glances at Hans as he drank a glass of wine of his own. You were about ready to squeeze your glass so hard that it could break if it meant that you stopped your thoughts.

It wasn’t your slightly buzzed brain or imagination that he was lost in thought. Or- not lost in thought, but rather intensely focused on something within his mind. Rarely did he speak when the last celebration occurred. But this felt like a different kind of quiet. It was like how he was thinking over a plan in his mind. You wanted to keep looking at him, as if you found the answer through your staring. But you had to pay attention to yourself, and resort to glances as he took sips. The brand left much to be desired, but you were starting to wish you were the glass.

You had to take a few moments to yourself from time to time to get it together and sober up. Which were inconspicuous as the others had to constantly leave and piss from the amount of alcohol they were drinking. Marco nearly took it out to go right in front of everyone at the table, much to you and their yelling for him not to.

And you had a reason for leaving at least one time, properly washing the dried blood from your face, and cleaning out the handkerchief in a sink. You chuckled to yourself as you looked at it. Hans seemed the type to carry one around. You never saw him use it though.

That made you stop and think. This one did look particularly clean. At least, before the blood. Newer is a better description. Despite the purpose of a handkerchief, this didn’t look like one you would want to get dirty. Just a piece of fabric you carried around to show people you had it as some kind of symbol. Yet he used it to wipe up your face.

Thinking about his excuse, your mind couldn’t see how it made any sense. Being that the other side of your face was towards the window. Sure, if someone squinted really hard from the other directions, it was possible they could see the cut. And there was still that chance the police could’ve pulled you over; they will pull anyone over for anything. But a cut to the face wasn’t exactly suspicious.

You felt your mind a bit too clouded in what little alcohol you had, as well as your dirty thoughts, so it wasn’t easy to try to piece together what all that meant. You looked down at the piece of fabric and decided it was going to get as clean as it could get. You soon joined back with the others. Who, once again, had continued to try to stop Marco from going onto the table.

While they had done that, you went over to Hans and wordlessly placed down the handkerchief. His look of focus faltered as he quickly took note of it and looked up at you. You were already starting to walk back to your own spot.

“No gratitude?” Hans asked.

“You should be showing me gratitude for cleaning it.” You said without missing a beat as you relaxed back into your seat.

He didn’t. Instead, he studied you with the same stare he had before you interrupted him. You paid him no mind and used your drink to cover your face, and just kept watching the men wrestle Marco off the table.

It was clear to many of the members as time went on, it was time to call it a night and return to their own place of residence. One by one, or two, if the other needed a driver that badly, they left. You found yourself hardly focusing on what state people left in as you could feel Hans watching you. You wanted to go up to him and tell him to take a picture instead.

You didn’t think that would go over well, so instead, you soon planned to be one of the ones to get back home before it got too late. Taking your duffle, which had your cut, you were ready to leave, nearly walking out the door when Hans called out to you. Hearing him say your name somehow was a lot more intoxicating to you than any alcohol that was here. You stopped and turned around, seeing what he needed.

He walked toward you with a purposeful stride and you couldn’t help but eyed the way he moved. His suit still looking clean and pronouncing his figure well. His speaking made you focus back on his face.

“I’m going to be looking over new locations; I’ll need your assistance.”

“Why me?” You curtly asked.

“You’re the only one who is not completely inebriated.” As if on cue you could hear Karl break something and cheer drunkenly, causing his brother to shout at him to stop while Theo instigated him on. Hans could only give a look of annoyance in their direction and look back at you.

“Good point.” You conceded.

He began to make his way to his office, gesturing to you to follow. Before entering the room, he shouted at the other two to take Karl home before he broke anything else.

That would just leave the two of you left in the warehouse.

The idea of being left alone with a man like Hans would terrify anyone who wasn’t in the same line of work he was. And to a certain degree, it did terrify you. However, that was hidden underneath the feeling of exhilaration that you were fighting off as he let you in first and closed the door behind him. You couldn’t count on blaming the alcohol if you slipped up and said, or God forbid, do anything.

You prayed that this would be quick.

He got to work on describing what locations he thought best to move to, pulling aside a map of the downtown area. He showed you the places that he and his crew had already occupied before, with him explaining how he would like to stay away from the same locations. At least, away from it for a good amount of time.

Your mind tried it’s best to listen to what he had been saying, as it was important. But other parts of you were focused on the way his hands moved and where you’d like to have them at.

You constantly had to stop yourself and actually pay attention to what he was saying and asking of you. At least throughout the heist, you had plenty of excuses to not listen to him or directly respond to what he was saying, being that you were so focused on your own thing. However, you didn’t have any excuse to not listen and barely respond to him now. The quietness of the place would make it easy enough to catch any lingering pauses or delayed responses. You needed to be on high guard on your behavior, as you had been the prior times you collaborated with him in his office.

As you gave your suggestions on the locations he had in mind and tossed around your own ideas, you could tell that despite you looking down at the map, he was watching you. This kind of watching you had grown more accustomed to, even expecting this of him. You felt he was the kind of listener to give his undivided attention to whoever was speaking. And he had done so when you met with him prior.

But with how the lighting in his office was dim just enough to set a mood. How close the two of you were physically by his desk. Feeling the heat coming from his body. Smelling the expensive cologne he had on. It was making you dizzy.

After some time, with him narrowing down a few locations that had seemed to be the best and easiest to relocate to, and seeing that it was getting much later, you figured now you’d be able to make your leave.

“Glad I could be of assistance,” you said, as you began to make your way to the door. “I’ll make sure we can get a truck to move our things.”

Just as you were opening the door, you felt Hans come up from behind and closed it back gently, with his hand on yours. You turned your head to face him, trying to hide your shock with mild confusion.

“There is also another matter I want to discuss with you.” He stated.

“What is it?” You turned your body to him more, moving your hand away from him and expecting him to take a few steps back. However, he didn’t, which only left at least half of a foot between you two, if at that. His hand being still on the door, leaving not much room for you to move anywhere else.

“Did I offend you in any way?” His accented voice was low and purposeful. You could already feel the heat creeping up your neck, among other areas.

But you were genuinely confused now. “What?”

“Did I offend you in any way?” He repeated.

The question had baffled you so much that you couldn’t help but answer genuinely. “Not that I can think of.”

You knew his jabs from earlier today were made in playful fun, as were yours. “Why?”

“You seem to be quick to end conversations with me compared to the rest of the group.”

Despite keeping a calm demeanor on the outside, you were running circles in your head. You had really hoped that your behavior towards him wasn’t noticeable. But of course, it was, at least to a man like him, who always strived to perfect the details and to look out for loose ends.

You played it off. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time is all.”

He gave a subtle smirk at that; one you could clearly see with how close you were to him. Now you were doing his best to not look at his lips, doing your best to maintain eye contact. However, his piercing stare wasn’t helping your state of mind either.

“That’s very kind, however that doesn’t explain why you always have a strict tone with me and have difficulty paying attention in our one-to-one conversations where I require your attention.”

“I don’t understand.” You figured if playing dumb could work on the cops it could work now. It was your only hail Mary at this point.

“You hardly were focused today when doing your part of the job. Well- focused on what need to be done of course, you were excellent with that,” You inhaled through your nose lightly, trying to regain composure. “But when it came to talking to me, you didn’t seem like you were focused on what I had to say.”

You tried to think of something else to say as a rebuttal, but he continued.

“Moments throughout the heist. During the car ride. When discussing locations. Even now,” Hans moved to get even closer to you, his face only a couple of inches away from yours. “I can see you have to bring back your attention to what I’m saying to you.”

You’d been holding your breath. You were sure to either pass out or die at any moment if oxygen didn’t reach your brain.

His voice got quieter, lower, despite you two being the only ones in this room, in this building.

“Tell me, what are you thinking about when you’re with me?”

That was it. You couldn’t take it anymore. You weren’t going to tell him. You were going to show him.

You were quick to grab the sides of his face and make a dive right for his lips, not at all being gentle as the months of buildup in your mind and body suddenly hit you. His lips were as soft as they looked, in contrast with the facial hair he had that scratched your mouth a bit. You closed your eyes as the kiss sent a jolt throughout your body.

You mentally braced yourself for when he pushed you off. Seeing that you didn’t even give him a chance to prepare for your response. However, it shocked you when Hans was just as quick to adjust his own lips to kiss you right back. You slightly pulled back in disbelief, opening your eyes for a moment. But he got right back onto your lips and pinned you more against the door, his hands going to your hips.

You let out a surprised noise that delved far too quickly into a stifled moan, your hands moving through his hair as you closed your eyes again. It only encouraged him to keep kissing you, his pressure being as intense as you had figured it to be. It didn’t take long before he pressed his tongue against your mouth. You let him have access, deepening your kissing. You tasted the leftover wine he had, and while you never cared for the brand he had that night, you felt that you could make an exception this time.

You pulled at his hair gently, which got a noise out of him. And you were eager to get more out of him. However, he stopped kissing you, much to your frustration that you couldn’t hide at this point. Hans let out a dark chuckle, and you swear you never wanted to beat up a man as much as you did right then.

“I didn’t think I was making that much of an impact on you.”

“You’re full of shit.” You breathed out. You could always tell when he was lying through his teeth when he had a certain kind of twinkle in his eye, which he had right now. He laughed a little louder that time. Which gave you further confirmation, as well as making your face grow hotter.

“Was I really that obvious?” You found yourself hesitating to ask.

“Hmm.” He hummed thoughtfully. “No. At least it wouldn’t be to someone who wasn’t watching you.” He leaned close to your ear, dragging one hand up your body all the way to the base of your jaw. “And I was watching you for a while .”

You shuddered at that, and at the realization of his words. Sure, you saw how today he was observing you. But the idea that he had known for a while and didn’t let any signs show, it made your heart leap right into your throat and your insides burn a bit more. You felt exposed.

The chills you had only got more intense as Hans began to leave a trail of kisses, traveling from below your ear and making his way down to your throat, one hand still on your jawline and the other on your hip that kept you in place. He craned your head to get you open.

His impossibly gentle kissing turned into him sucking and biting at your neck. You’d probably need to wear a turtleneck for a bit. But you didn’t care. The noise you let out from your throat was guttural. You could feel him smirk against your skin. Your irritation with his teasing grew, and so you quickly moved your hands from his hair and grabbed at his hips, pulling them closer against your own. Your arms wrapped around his lower back so he couldn’t move. You immediately noted the tent that was beginning to form in his pants. You thought with how quickly it seemed to have appeared, he must’ve been extremely pent up and needed a form of release. Or there was a bit of a chance that Hans had been deeply attracted to you as you were to him.

You couldn’t count on that, nor did you want to for a man like him. And at this point, it didn’t really matter to you what the origins of his advances were. Whether he actually felt something, just liked the idea of you being needy for him, or needed an outlet, you couldn’t care less. Hans wasn’t rejecting you, and you were desperate to get more friction between the two of you.

You moved your hips against him, which only led you to be even more frustrated when in response he slowly, almost lazily, gave thrusts back. It was not enough for you.

“Hans.” You groaned out, gripping at his suit jacket.

“Ja?” He asked, in a disgustingly polite voice, like he didn’t know.

“Move.”

“Move what?”

You used a hand to punch the side of him. Not too hard, but enough to get your frustration across. He laughed against your skin, and you really wanted to punch him harder then.

“You know what I mean by ‘move’.”

“Where’s the fun in rushing?” Hans teased, as he went back to nipping at your throat.

“It’s not rushing if I’ve been waiting for fucking months for this.” You said, not caring how pathetic and desperate you sounded. Your straightforwardness caught him off guard as he faltered slightly in his movements and he had bitten down slightly harder than before on your throat. The pain shot through you, but you discovered how much you had enjoyed that. After a moment of recomposing himself, he went back to his slow thrusting.

You felt him mutter against your neck. “If you’ve waited this long, you can wait just a little bit longer.” Hans began to caress his hands slowly and deliberately over your body. Barely adding enough pressure, it was a graze when he went over your chest.

You’ve never felt the desire to kill someone you wanted to have sex with so badly more than you had now. Yet Hans, ever the exceptional thief, managed to do both.

You hated how much it turned you on.

You wanted to push his buttons. To get him to unravel in the same way he made you. You thought for a moment, which was hard to do as all you wanted to think about was his lips on you and how he seemed to be savoring every sound you let out. How he relished in the way your body was arching involuntarily at his touch.

You suddenly had a quick moment of clarity and slightly tilted your head down to him as he kissed at your collarbone.

“But can you ?”

He stopped his movements, which irritated you internally, but you could hold off from the slight instant gratification if it meant you got what you wanted quicker. He still had his face in the crook of your neck.

“Wie bitte?” He asked.

“Can you wait, if you had to?”

Realizing your question was in response to what he said prior, he answered, “Of course.”

You moved your hands to his shoulders to slightly push him off to get him to look at you.

“I don’t think you can.”

Hans eyed you as he slightly straightened his posture. He could tell you were up to something but hadn’t pieced together in his mind what it was just yet. You had to be quick to catch him further off guard and set him off.

“In fact, I think you’re pretty desperate.” You challenged.

You can tell it struck something within him as his eyes became more alert. However, he kept the suave demeanor he always had.

“I wasn’t the one who lunged for a kiss.”

You raised your eyebrows and could feel the smirk tugging at your lips. “But you did corner me at the door right before I left.”

He furrowed his brows at that. You knew you had him; You just had to keep reeling him in. With newfound confidence, you nonchalantly pushed past him and walked back to his desk. You looked down and casually tapped on the map that was laying out on the table still.

“You also brought me in here for ‘personal help’ with picking out the next location,” You looked over at him briefly, shrugged, and looked back at the map. “You got lucky with a good excuse of needing someone who wasn’t drunk. But after thinking about it, you don’t have a good reason for why you set it up for us to be together throughout the whole robbery.”

You fixed your posture, having not heard so much as a breath from him. But you didn’t have to look at him to know his stare was directly on you.

“Anyone could’ve helped in watching your back. It would’ve been smarter and safer to have more than one person watching you. Especially since compared to the rest, I’m new in your group. That could've been disastrous had I made one miscalculation and not have another help clean up the mess.”

You hadn’t initially made these observations when they happened but saying them out loud as they came to you in the heat of the moment, it made you realize how obvious Hans was in trying to be alone with you. As much as it made you feel stupid, it was churning your stomach.

“Hell, you even had us drive back in the same car! What, were you hoping for a quickie during the ride back? Or inside of the building?” The idea made your face heat up and you were glad to have been facing away from him for a moment, so he didn’t see. Not that you would’ve been opposed to either scenario. But he didn’t need to know that.

“That’s more pathetic than me. I was expecting a lot more-”

You didn’t get to finish your thought as you felt a force push your upper half down into the desk, causing a loud smack and some items to fly off. Despite having the wind slightly knocked out of you, you caught the feeling of one of his hands that shielded you from hitting your head on the desk too hard. Before you could process anything else, you felt his body press against behind you more as he quickly grabbed your arms to pin them behind your back.

With this new angle, you could feel just how much harder Hans had become as his hips dug into your backside.

Maneuvering to free one hand, he dragged it up towards your head and grabbed a fist full of your hair. He pulled your head up and leaned in close to speak against your ear.

“Du bist nur ein Lustobjekt.”

It was the first time you heard his voice wavering in its pitch, like he was barely containing himself. You wished you had started with this tactic sooner. You turned your head as much as he would let you. You were able to see the dangerous look in his eyes. You finally had him right where you wanted him. How you wanted him during these past weeks since you would join him in his planning inside this office.

You couldn’t fight off the wicked smile as you spoke. “Du bist ein Lustmolch.”

Proving your point in a way, he wasted no time as he went right for your lips in a hungry kiss, which you were eager to meet back. You didn’t suppress your moans, and even if you wanted to it was hard to do so, as he was still gripping your hair and was dry humping you at this point. The pressure from him and the edge of the desk that was poking your front side was killing you. You started to move to increase the friction, however his grip around your pinned arms tightened and he pushed you further into the table, holding you in place and limiting your movements.

In response, you bit his lips hard. Now tasting a combination of wine and blood. Hearing him grunt gave you some satisfaction, but you wanted more of it. More of him. However, he let go of your head and rose from his position. You groaned in frustration, lightly bumping your head against the desk in annoyance. Your annoyance turned into a mixture of confusion as he let go of your hands suddenly just as he grabbed them. He moved away from you completely, and you started to push yourself up and question him. But the words died on your lips as he made his way around the desk and spoke.

“Undress and get back on the desk.”

The words struck you hard with a newfound and intense feeling of pleasure. You got up, and as you were beginning to remove your articles of clothing, you got a better look at Hans as he was looking through his desk’s drawers. You could see how heavily he was breathing even as he attempted to control it. His hair was a mess. He had a smudge of blood around his lips, and his cheeks flushed. You didn’t even think that it was possible for him to do. Only his suit jacket had been unbuttoned at this point. But it being opened allowed you to get a better picture of what he was packing in his pants.

Just as you had been halfway out of your clothes, he found what he had been looking for. He pulled out a bottle of lubricant and a packet of condoms, which he tore from the set. Your knees buckled at the sight of it and had at first grown embarrassed at the idea that he kept those within reach. But you found a way to work around it.

“Oh, so you’d decided you were going to have me here?”

He looked up at you and paused for a moment as he took in what he could currently see of you. Seeing and practically feeling him eye you up and down felt like he was the one undressing you.

“Nein, du Dummerchen.” Hans said in response to your question. You could see that twinkle again. Your heart missed a beat at that.

You were just getting ready to take off your underwear, but Hans seemed to be just as impatient as you had been. He wasted no time getting you back on your stomach. And you were more certain that he had been just a bit gentler in making sure you didn’t get as winded as before. He didn’t even pin your hands behind your back. But you didn’t comment on that.

“I wasn’t done.” You huffed out.

“You were taking too long.” He said.

You rolled your eyes, making sure that he saw you do so. “Just say you wanted to be the one to take them off, it’s not hard.”

He pushed your head down with one hand and grabbed at your hip tightly with the other. You let out a noise, the excitement evident on you as he began to use both of his hands to slowly pull down your underwear. It fell down your legs and pooled around your ankles. You could hear his breath hitching as he started to slowly caress you. Your eyes closed as you leaned into his touch. When his touch got rougher, you used a free hand to bury your face into your arm.

“Don’t cover too much of your face. I want to be able to hear you.”

You were about to have a smartass response when his thigh pressed up between your legs stopped you in your tracks. Finally feeling the fabric against your bare skin brought you back to the very first fleeting thought you had about him. Hans moved his hands away. The sound of the bottle opening barely processed in your mind.

He also began to say something but whatever it was, it didn’t matter all that much to you, and very quickly didn’t matter to him as he stopped talking once you began grinding on his thigh. You placed your hands on the edge of the desk that you faced to make your upper body more firmly planted while your lower body began moving. Your eyes closed, your head pressed against the surface, so you couldn’t see the look on his face. You just knew that he was watching you though.

You were finally getting the pressure and friction that you wanted between your legs and felt yourself breathing quickly as you allowed yourself to move faster against him. The trance that had hit him finally broke as he got his hands onto your hips again, forcing you to stop. You banged one of your fists on the desk.

“Come on!” If he kept doing this to you soon you weren’t going to have any kind of feeling for him besides hate.

“Slowly.” He loosened his grip.

You groaned but figured you could compromise. You focused on maintaining a consistent speed, dragging your body with slow movements while still applying enough pressure to satisfy you. He fully let go as you could hear him picking back up the bottle. After a few moments, you felt his hand on you, this time noting that his fingers were lubricated. He moved his thigh away, but you weren’t all that disappointed, knowing what was meant to come. In more ways than one.

You felt a finger press into you slowly, causing you to gasp. The second you did he paused in his movements. You realized he was giving you time to adjust. It was odd, as you thought about it. How there had been little moments throughout this session where he had been gentle, was the best way to put it. His appearance may have tried to present to the general public that he was a gentleman. And maybe he believed that himself. But that’s not what you saw. You could see how ruthless he was. “Gentleman” would be putting it lightly.

The thought of the handkerchief briefly entered your mind, and you would’ve dwelled on it more, but Hans started to speak again.

“May I move?”

“Yes.”

He pushed deeper into you and started to pump his index finger at a slow pace. Your breathing hitched with every movement he made and started to feel the head within your body increase. His other hand kept caressing you, in a way that felt almost like he was soothing you. In your heated daze you tried to think more about how much he had those “kind” moments, especially today. It was giving you great cognitive dissonance of the man you were sure to have known during your time here, and these little “blink and you’ll miss it” moments he had with you.

You felt him pull out his finger, and you made an embarrassing noise that subsided when you felt him press two fingers against your entrance. Just as before he took his time to gently enter you, only moving when you told him to. This time, he applied much more pressure in his fingers, allowing him to get more lube onto you. Your breathing was exchanged with consistent grunts and moaning at the new sensation. Yet it started to not feel enough. You encouraged him by rocking your hips against him.

He groaned, and tried to keep his voice and pace steady, though you could tell he was wavering. “Patience. I’m still preparing you.”

A weak laugh left you. “Are you saying that to me or to yourself?”

He only grunted as he shoved his fingers back into you a bit more forcefully, causing you to let out another moan in approval.

That roughness was what you had been expecting of Hans. Which you did get earlier. You figured that more of it was going to come out of him by this point. That other part of him, those moments of gentleness was something you couldn’t wrap your head around.

Although, you figured it wasn’t like people couldn’t have multiple traits or even faces to them. You had to keep a different one in your everyday life while you were a completely different person when on the clock. Who’s to say Hans wasn’t the same? Having that capability to be a man with many faces to him when the situation required for him to do so. That would then apply to the traits he had.

Still, no one could likely define what Hans’ true face was. That’s just how it was for a man like him. You picked on that right after you first met him. You pondered to yourself what version of himself was he showing you now. Something in your, or somewhere deeper, hoped this version had some truth to it.

You stopped your mind from delving further into that thought. Convince yourself that there was no point to it. Right here, right now, you just tried to focus on the sensations that were being felt throughout your body.

He exited out of you again, this time, and you were hoping for the last time, inserted another finger. He wasn’t as slow as he had been before, with you being much more stretched and lubed up. It was easier for him to slip inside and to move around his fingers into slight angles that left your mouth agape as you closed your eyes to focus purely on his touch.

You could hear how heavy his breathing had become, and with how quiet the room has been, besides the noises you two were making, you heard him unzip his fly and undo his belt with one hand. A new sense of anticipation and pleasure hit you. You nearly felt like you could’ve finished from the thought of what was to come before it even happened. You leveled your breathing to control yourself.

Noting how you could barely contain yourself, he pulled his fingers out of you, and you could hear the crinkle of the condom packet opening. You held your hands against the edge of the desk and waited for him to be done.

One of his hands positioned your hip and you felt your heartbeat in long awaited excitement.

“Bist du bereit?”

Hearing the same phrase he had said to you right before the heist felt… It had felt a lot. Ridiculously hot, of course. But it led to a much bigger crack to the wall you had put up in trying to distance yourself from any deeper feelings. The possibility that it may have been something just a little bit more to him wasn’t zero.

When you first envisioned these moments, what felt like a while ago, you were perfectly fine- or really hoping he’d be behind you. He had the figure built for that, and the full dominating aspect delighted you. However, you had some second thoughts about that.

You steadied yourself, more mentally than physically if anything. Still, you turned your head slightly, not enough to see him well but for him to hear you clearly.

“Can I turn around?”

You’d figure that, in the worst case, he’d reject your request and maybe even humiliate you. Which wouldn’t have been the worst thing for a man like him, or even for someone like you. Either way, you could move on. People in your line of work had to be adequate to rob a place. Maybe this was no different.

There was a pause, and you felt like the whole energy in the room shifted. You didn’t even think that to be possible. Still, you waited.

“Yes.”

He removed his hand from you, allowing you to move into the position you wanted to be in.

Maneuvering your body to fully face him, you could see that his clothes were still intact, besides the zipper and the belt being undone. You tried not to gawk at what he had going on below too much, knowing you were going to feel it in a moment. As you pressed your back against the surface and lifted your legs, he helped hold them up and hovered over you. You caught how he had a combination of the look of intense focus he had during the celebration, and the gleam in his eyes right before committing to a heist.

You felt a lot more confident in replying to him.

“Ich bin bereit.”

He didn’t waste any more time positioning himself before your entrance, and pushed himself right in. There wasn’t much of a struggle on your part, as you accepted him easily. You arched your back into him, letting out a moan filled with relief. He didn’t fare much better in containing the noise he made.

He leaned further towards you, and as he did you grabbed ahold of his shoulders and wrapped your legs around him. He planted his hands by the sides of you. You wanted him to start moving immediately, but you knew you had to be just a little smart in allowing you to adjust to his size. Hans lowered his head to start kissing on your chest, nipping, and sucking around your nipples. You shuddered as he continued upward towards your collarbone and neck, traveling up to your ear. Your name left his mouth in a quick breath.

“How else do you want me?” Hans asked.

You groaned as you felt your face get hot, the smell from his cologne was making you dizzy. You couldn’t formulate anything coherent in your mind to get the proper words out.

“Just- fuck Hans.” You exhaled out.

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to do that.” You felt that smug smirk against your ear. You pulled his head back to shut him up with a kiss, or rather a bite at his mouth. His smile only grew at that, and you were positive you felt him stiffen inside you more than he already was. You tasted that you had drawn more blood. You felt a little bit bad, but only just a little as he spoke against your lips.

“I just wanted to know how.” He teased in a lighter voice.

You wanted to call him every name in the book, and he knew that. Instead, you ran your hand through his hair gently as you looked at him. You thought of a good compromise that would give you both that exceptional thief side of him and that gentleman side of him that you could see from this position, and that you were banking on by the end of this.

Catching his confused but intrigued attention, you got closer to one of his ears.

“Fick mich härt.”

He wasted no time standing up straighter to get a better position. Your hands left his shoulders, moving down towards his forearms where you held his hands to be firmly on your hips, while also getting to grip at his suit. In a swift motion you watched him pull back just enough so he was barely inside of you and thrusted right back in.

You let out a loud and strained moan as you squeezed his arms. You knew you were going to feel this in the morning, but you were counting on that. He paused for a moment and only continued when you urged him to keep going. He started with a slow but fierce rhythm. His grunting matched with every move he made, his grip tightening around your hips as you let out moans that increased in volume as he kept going. You tried to keep your eyes open to look at him, wanting to burn the image of him over. He was starting to sweat, from still being dressed, and he had a bit of blood that was beginning to go down his chin.

He didn’t seem too concerned about his suit getting dirty this time, whether it be from the blood that dripped down onto his dress shirt’s collar, the sweat that was coming from him, or by you. He was so completely and utterly concentrated on pleasuring you. You could see his eyes were tracing every inch of your body. You felt yourself heat up even more than you thought possible at the idea of him also committing your imagery to memory.

“Hans-” You breathed.

“So eng,” He panted, as he looked down at you. “So eng für mich.”

And you only grew tighter around him with every word he spoke, German or otherwise. It wasn’t hard for him to notice that.

“Gelfällt dir das? When I speak?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I would think you would’ve wanted to speak to me more then.”

The teasing tone he had started to mess with you, as you found yourself thrusting against him when he was faltering to talk to you.

“Or” He slightly raised his eyebrow as he studied you. “Is that why you always ended our conversations early? To excuse yourself so you could- “

“Sei ruhig.” You grunted.

“I don’t think you want that.” He challenged. And you attempted to sound annoyed when you groaned but it didn’t come across that way at all. It was a battle you immediately lost as he chuckled, but you weren’t going to let him know you were fine with that.

“It must’ve been difficult for you to keep your composure throughout the heist whenever we were alone.” He hummed to you in a low voice.

“Again, I didn’t make the plan-” You grunted mid-sentence as he thrusted a bit harder. “To get us alone. That was- uh - all you.”

“But you didn’t oppose, and I think you have enough bite in you to have said something.”

You laughed a bit through your grunts as he kept moving. “I’m not dumb enough to try to- oh . To try to go against the man in charge of my payroll who- shit - carries a gun.”

Your eyes had been closing to focus on feeling him, but you felt his hand come up to hold your chin lightly, causing you to get your attention and to look up at him. The playfulness he had subdued, replaced with a more serious look. He stopped mid-thrust.

“Did I make you feel pressured to be around me?”

His voice had a softness to him you hadn’t heard before, and concern that you didn’t know he had in him. It led you to act in a way you hadn’t in a long time due to the kind of life you led.

You brought your hand to his own, gently taking it and giving a kiss on his knuckles. You felt a lot more embarrassed doing this than anything prior, but it needed to be done. You looked back up to him.

“No, you haven’t.”

He looked at you for a moment, and seemed to be a bit more relaxed after hearing you say that. It felt nice having to experience something like this. It cemented the idea in your mind that he did value what you were worth. Whatever this was to be defined as could be defined later, however. You had a newfound urge that was stronger than before to see it to the end.

“You have made me feel an intense dislike towards you whenever you speak though.” You made sure to say that in a tone that you always used when being snarky to him, which he caught on.

“Why, are you not as thick-skinned as you try to appear to be when I take jabs at you?” He dragged his hand down your body.

“Oh, I can take it,” you said, already grinning at what you were about to say. “I just hate how after our long planning and your praises, I’ll always have to wash my bedsheets in the middle of the night.”

He took a second to process what that had meant. Once he did his face lit up like a fire. There were two things that you knew were big about him. One of them being his ego.

“I suppose we’re even now, since my suits get plenty dirty right after you leave.”

The air around the two of you became stuffier, his hands roaming your body as he continued to stretch you out as he started to move again. Your words came out between your panting.

“I guess since I’m getting your suit dirty, I’ll have to get my sheets dirty tonight to be fair.”

He let out a louder moan at that than you were expecting and let one particular thrust hit you in a spot that made you see stars. You took a moment to regain yourself.

“Are you imagining me touching myself?” You questioned him. The idea making you quiver. “Lustmolch.”

“Lass mich dein Maul stopfen.” He let out in a ragged breath. “Lustobjekt.”

“I don’t think you want that.” You mused aloud.

He must’ve had the same sense of urgency, as he snapped and his pace began to pick up, while still making sure he was rough with you. You arched into him more and you were being anything but quiet. Like you guessed, he didn’t cover your mouth or do anything to shut you up. It seemed to encourage him more. Even if the others were still at the hideout, you wouldn’t have cared at this point if they heard you or not. You would be going home richer and properly ruined. And that was fine with you. Besides, if you had tried to force yourself to be quiet, you were certain the noise of your bodies thumping against the wooden surface would’ve been a great indicator of what was going on.

“Bitte! Weiter!” You told him through your moans, and he complied by lifting your legs and pushing them as far as he could against you, allowing him to get a better angle to take you deeper.

The new position of his hands on your thighs, getting to feel more of his suit on your body helped you reach a new height of sensations and a sense of high. You could tell that it wasn’t going to be much longer if he kept this up. And it was clear he had no intention of slowing down. You did have to move your hands now as they couldn’t properly reach his arms. It was hard to think of a new place for them as you lost all reason with every thrust he made into you. Through your lidded eyes and tears- or maybe it was sweat as you felt drenched now, you looked at him to see where you could put your arms.

Hans was swearing to himself, mainly in German. Some words you couldn’t catch as you never heard him curse this much before. His own sweat was dripping onto you as he moved, and you noticed how he was stuttering in his thrusting, the clinking of his loose belt buckle hitting against you becoming more erratic. It was obvious he was doing his best to hold out longer.

You then noticed how his tie had been slightly touching your body throughout the whole ordeal. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t noticed prior, you noticed it now. You used both of your hands to grab at it and pull him closer. He didn’t fight back, and it ended up pushing your legs farther back towards you, allowing him to pound just a bit farther into you.

Still holding onto his tie with one hand, you used your other to hold onto his upper back and rested your face in the crook of his neck.

“You look like you’re close to finishing.” You teased as you bit on his neck.

He scoffed, “You don’t look any better than me.”

That, you couldn’t argue as he didn’t relent in this close position. It didn’t matter how sore and cramped your body had started to become when lying down in this position; you wanted to be in it for as long as you could. Which really wasn’t that much longer, much to your dismay. The heat that had been pooling inside you was threatening to spill at any given moment.

“Hans-” Your voice was desperate, incoherent babbling leaving through your panting. “Bitte- please-”

“Das machst du gut.” He moaned.

“Please, "You clutched at his shoulder.

“So eng. So heiß.”

“I’m going to-”

“Ja,” You heard him say against your neck. “Ich auch- Ich komme gleich. Kommen.”

With that, Hans gave one last thrust and you let yourself release, crying out in relief. He grunted and moaned against your skin. You moved lightly against him as you went through your climax. You felt him throb inside you, and you felt him relaxing his body onto yours, his clothes warming up your already warm skin. He rubbed your legs, gave you soft kisses on your skin, and you heard more praise coming from him.

“Du hast dich selbst übertroffen.”

“Don’t praise me anymore.” You breathed, letting go of his tie. “If you do, we’ll be here all night.”

He moved his head to look at you. “This is a problem how?”

You lightly pushed his head away and rolled your eyes, causing him to laugh.

“I don’t care how good you are at it; there’s no way you could stay in the same position.”

“I could sit down in my chair.” He suggested. You were sure part of him was serious. And you were sure part of you was considering it.

Sadly, you had to fight it down as you really did begin to feel exhaustion hit you fast, as everything from the day was starting to weigh down on you. He could see that and was starting to pull himself out. You stopped him.

“Wait- Just wait a moment, please?” You knew you needed to have a moment to get yourself back together mentally.

He stopped moving his hips, letting himself be inside you. With ease, he lifted you off the desk and walked around to his chair. You clutched onto him. It didn’t even cross your mind before if he was able to carry anyone. But his grip felt secure. Once he sat down into his chair carefully, you ease into him, letting out a tired sigh. He rubbed your back, soothing your body from how much it was banging against the desk. You did your best to wake up a bit more and to soon get off him. However, you had a flash of one last act that you had wanted to.

Remembering where he had placed his handkerchief, you lifted your head up and reached into his breast pocket. Watching you get it out; you looked at Hans’s lips. Seeing that the blood was still a bit moist, due to the sweat keeping it that way, you began to wipe it off.

You had expected him to make a remark or jab at you doing this, especially how you had tried to clean it prior. Instead, he calmly breathed and leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. The stillness within the room being undisturbed by either of you.

This new difference was something you felt excited to become used to.

[cercess]

Beneath New Skies - Chapter III

Death's Door

𖤓 Tags: Depictions of violence, mentions of death, depictions of injury, depictions of blood, angst 𖤓 Rating: Explicit 𖤓 Word Count: 3.3k 𖤓 Notes: hey all! Sorry or the time it took to get this out, I really struggled writing some parts. I want to add a trigger warning for this chapter: it depicts scenes of the city being attacked, as well as descriptions of a wound on a character's arm. If these make you uncomfortable in any way, please skip this chapter. When I upload chapter four, I will include a summary so you don't miss any critical information moving forward. I'm hoping to get chapter four out either tonight or tomorrow, because I know this one took me a long time. This chapter isn't my favourite writing-wise, but it was important for events that will come later. Please excuse any clunky parts, as this is not the type of story I typically tell; I'm much more of a slice of life/romance author. Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! 𖤓 Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 𖤓 Read on AO3

The day started like any other, with you working the counter at the apothecary. Kyros, the restaurant owner, was browsing the wall of dried herbs, while your father helped Akmonides with some ailment in the back room. 

“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” Kyros asked as he smelled a vial of crushed ginger.

“Is gossiping about the gossip-monger really a good idea? He’ll find out eventually.”

Kyros laughed, as he added the ginger to his basket, “not unless you say anything.”

“That depends on how much coin he offers.” 

It was just a cough. You knew because your father had grabbed eucalyptus on his way back. In your business, the answers to people’s suspicions were often much more boring than what they’d imagined. One day, you planned on taking over your father’s position and treating patients yourself. But, seeing as the man was still as spry as ever, there was still time before that happened. Sometimes he’d test you pool by simply stating the ailment. It was then your job to figure out what ingredients needed to be used. After doing it your whole life, mixing the proper tonics and ointments came as naturally as breathing. Peppermint for colds, feverfew for fevers, valerian for insomnia, ginger for mild pain, and poppies for severe pain. Those were the common afflictions you saw, but every once in a while, there would be a curveball, and you’d have to consult your journal. 

“These are pretty,” Kyros held up a blue flower, “maybe I could use those as a garnish.

“Those are flaxseed flowers, and we use them as laxatives. Probably not something you want your customers eating.” You grin as you fiddle with the necklace Phainon had given you.

He would have found that funny. 

It had been a few days since he’d left for the ruins of Janusopolis, and you’d spent most of your time yearning for his return. It was almost sickening how much you longed for him; like a lovesick teenager who had to be glued to their partner’s side at all times. 

The door behind you opened, and out walked Akmonides and your father. The former held a vial of what you assumed to be a tonic for his cold. The other telltale sign of his affliction was his nose, which had been rubbed raw from wiping mucus away.

“Could you run to Demetria’s?” Your father asked, placing a hand on your shoulder as he slipped behind the counter. “We need oranges.” 

You nodded and hopped off your stool, taking the opportunity to emphatically stretch your arms and legs. He sometimes sent you on errands throughout the day, knowing that you appreciated a break from the mundanity. 

As overwhelming as Marmoreal Market could be, you could never shake your love for it. You had lived your whole life with the bustling stalls right at your doorstep. The sound of customers haggling echoed in the back of nearly all your childhood memories. 

The walk to Demetria’s was short, and when you arrived, the grocer was quick to welcome you with a hug. 

“Have you grown since I last saw you?” She asked. 

“Maybe,” you say brightly, knowing full well you stopped growing years ago. 

When you placed the oranges in your basket, she took a long pause, before adding a bundle of grapes. “That doesn’t quite seem heavy enough, here. A treat from me.” 

“Thank you,” arguing with the old woman was futile. She was too kind for her own good. 

Before returning to the apothecary, you made a detour to find an old friend. She was usually easy to find, as she spent her days running along the streets. 

“Serena,” you called down a row of plant-adorned homes. It wasn’t long before she poked her head out from behind a pot. You waved, beckoning her closer. 

She scanned the street before running over to you with a smile on her face.

Gaining the girl’s trust had taken considerable effort. The first time you met her, she robbed you blind. After returning home from The Grove, you were unfamiliar with certain changes, namely the orphaned children that used the market as their hunting ground. When you told your father, he merely laughed; apparently everyone had fallen prey to her antics. At the time, you were angry, and spent two days searching for the thief. After clamouring over the rooftops, you eventually found her hideout on a balcony overlooking the market. Your anger immediately subsided when you saw her huddled in the corner, surrounded by empty boxes and various stolen mementos. A sudden appreciation for your stable childhood had blossomed since then, especially as more desperate children arrived from Castrum Kremnos.

Serena was from Icatus, and had no means of supporting herself. She insisted her parents would return, but the disillusionment of maturity told you otherwise. Since then, you made an effort to leave her food whenever you could. When you and your father had leftovers, you’d set them outside the shop for her, and in the morning there would be a flower on your windowsill. 

“Were you looking for me?” She asked, trying to get a better look at the gift you held behind your back. 

You laughed, and showed her the bundle of fresh grapes. “I thought you could use a treat on a hot day like this.” 

The little girl’s eyes widened with excitement, and she snatched the fruit from your grasp. She looked at the gift like it was a rare gem, “this is all for me?”

“Of course, I-”

An earth-shattering scream cut through the gentle moment like a knife. Instinctively, you pulled Serena behind you, her hand tightly grasping yours. “What was that?”

“Stay close, and don’t run ahead,” you instructed in a harsh whisper. 

Keeping your back against the wall, you carefully shuffled to the end of the building to peer down the main street. The lone scream had multiplied into an overwhelming rumble of panic. Ahead, people were fleeing a towering figure clad in blue and white. You’d learned of the Titankin through Phainon, but had never laid eyes on one. It’s marbled skin was exactly as he had described, and the golden dagger it brandished was far from an inviting image. 

“What’s happening?” Serena tugged at your arm. 

Primal fear overtook you when the Titankin turned its head in your direction, it’s stiff, inhuman movements only adding to your terror. Had it seen you? Was it coming your way?

“We need to run,” you pulled the girl further down the street, away from your possible assailant. 

“To where?” She asked shakily as she struggled to match your pace. 

You slowed down slightly, needing a moment to think. What you needed was to get to your father. For all you knew, he was alone in the shop. He was not a trained fighter; neither of you were. A feeling of hopelessness began to gnaw at your confidence as you realized the dire nature of the situation. 

“We need to get to my father,” your attempt to keep your voice steady failed. Getting to your father meant returning to one of the main roads on opposite ends of the street. The southern road was blocked by Titankin, and the other route would still be a gamble, especially with Serena in tow. Still, you refused to abandon the child. 

“We can get there from the roof!” Serena pointed to a set of stairs leading up to a nearby balcony. 

A low groan sounded from around the corner you had previously checked, and it became abundantly clear that you had to make a choice; risk finding more Titankin on the main road, or follow Serena’s plan. While you had about a hundred logistical questions about Serena’s route, you decided that a petty thief probably knew all the cutie’s secret passages better than you. 

“Up the stairs then, and don’t look back.” 

She nodded, and led you up the nearby building. From above, you could see the extent of the chaos. It turned out following Serena’s idea was for the best, as a particularly burly Titankin stood guard on the northern road. 

“What are those things?” The little girl was trembling, so you knelt down to meet her eye. 

“Those are Nikador’s Titankin. They are very dangerous, and want to hurt us. If one gets close, you run. Do you understand?” You hated how grave your voice sounded, knowing it would only make her more afraid. But fear no longer mattered; survival was your only priority. “Can you still get us to my father?”

To your surprise, she didn’t cry. Instead, Serena furrowed her brow and led you across a nearby canopy. You rushed after her, eager for your feet to once again stand on a solid building. 

“We can climb down here,” she gestured to the ledge below. 

You realized that she was pointing at the protrusion under your bedroom window. The route you had taken must have been how Serena left flowers for you. 

The girl scrambled down the side of the building, using the uneven stone as foot grips. Given you were larger than a child, the drop was a nonissue. You thanked yourself for leaving your window open, and slid inside your bedroom after Serena. 

“Let’s find my father,” you instructed as your anxiety became almost unbearable. You had no idea what you would find, and prayed that the worst case scenario had not yet occurred. 

The two of you crept down the stairs to the shop, the sound of your racing heartbeat thundering in your ears. Everything was painfully normal; the herbs neatly arranged, the phials on the alchemy bench perfectly in order. The only thing out of place was your father, who was nowhere to be found in the main area. 

Serena trailed you, her eyes widening as she took in the shop. If it were any other time, you might have felt a bit of pride at her reaction. Alas, posturing was hardly appropriate during an attack. 

“I need you to stay ducked behind the counter, I’m going to check the exam room.” 

She nodded and did as she was told, curling into a ball. You took a breath, and opened the door. Inside, your father sat at the desk, hunched over a book. 

“Father! What are you doing?” You asked, equal parts relieved and dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think it would take you so long to get back, I-“

“Do you not realize what’s happening? The city is under attack by Titankin.” 

He adjusted his glasses, “if this is some kind of joke, I do not find it funny.” 

Exasperation threatened to overtake you, but the urgency of the moment far outweighed your irritation. “No, it’s not a joke. We need to run now.” 

Your father rose from his chair, and followed you out into the shop where Serena remained under the counter. “You’ve found a child.” 

“Father, this is Serena. I was visiting her when the attack started. She got us here safely.” 

“Then I owe you my thanks.” He smiled warmly at the girl.

“Where do we go now?” 

Before your could respond, your father jumped in, “I suspect they've started evacuating the market. We need to get out while the guards still have a foothold. Otherwise, we’re trapped waiting for the Titankin to find us.” 

You were relieved to have the pressure of responsibility lifted from your shoulders. It was something your father always bore well, and you trusted his intelligence wholeheartedly. 

“Stay in between us,” he guided Serena to stand in the middle of himself and you. Then, your father addressed you, “did you notice where the Titan were gathering? 

“There's one on both the south and north road. We almost had a run in with the southern one.” You shuddered at the thought of that encounter going any other way. “It was farther up, though, so if we make a run for it then we may reach the guards quicker.”

“Good idea,” he nodded, “it’s also closer to the gates. Follow me.” 

The two of you trailed your father as he exited the shop. “Leave the door open. We don’t want to make any more noise than necessary.” 

He crept forward, checking around the corner as you had earlier. The angle of the building made it difficult to see the rest of the street, but you noticed him straining to see past the restaurant. 

“Now,” your father instructed, grabbing Serena’s hand. They took off down the street with you floating close behind.  

As you ran, you found yourself clutching your necklace, your grip so firm that it left star-shaped indents in your palm. If Phainon were here, you’d all be safe. If you can hear me, please come home. I need you. 

The sudden realization of your own mortality was frightening. You thought of everything you had left unsaid, to your father, and to Phainon. He’d never know just how proud of him you were; how lucky you felt to call him yours. All of the little things you were too afraid to say would die along with you.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by your companions coming to a stop. By the time you slowed down, the cause for their interruption was clear. A Titankin, larger than the other two, blocked your way with its massive sword. 

Serena trembled behind your father, her shaky hand clenched around his pant leg. 

As for the man himself, he slowly raised a hand, “we mean you no harm! Just let us pass.” 

The Titankin’s growl seemed to encapsulate the area in cool air, freezing everyone in their place. At its feet were discarded weapons; a warning for any who wished to challenge its mighty authority. 

Your eye was drawn to a spear that laid a few feet away, its blade shining in the midday sun. It called to you like a weapon of legend, beckoning you to be the hero your father and Serena needed. 

If I die today, I will make him proud. 

You lunged for the spear, albeit not as gracefully as you would have hoped. Still, when you regained your footing, the spear sat in your hands, sharp blade pointed towards the looming Titankin. 

It shifted its attention to you, sword prepared to strike. 

“What are you-“

“Run!” You interrupted your father as the monster lifted its sword high in the air. 

You shut your eyes, bracing for the impact against your defensively positioned spear. The weight that bore down on you was unbearable. Upon impact, you were sent stumbling backwards, but your spear remained raised. 

The Titankin grunted, and shifted more of his weight to the sword. You could hear the wood of the spear splintering under the force, and you focused on moving out of the way of the opposing blade. 

Behind the beast, your father shouted your name. His desperate tone almost brought tears to your eyes. You wanted to tell him you loved him, but the Titankin had successfully broken through your spear, causing you to lose your balance. 

The weapon’s two halves stared up at you sadly, and you almost felt the need to apologize for reducing the beautifully crafted weapon into such a sorry-state. However, there was no time for that, as the Titankin had raised its sword once again. 

You scrambled backwards, holding your arms in front of your face. The pain that exploded through your left forearm as the blade cut through your skin was unbearable. A pained cry escaped you as your vision blurred. Had you been hit elsewhere? You dropped to the ground, cradling your injury close to your chest. 

“Don’t touch them!” Your father cried, before a loud thump echoed through the streets. You wanted to go to him, to see if he was alright, but your legs wouldn’t work. 

Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the end to come. I love you father. I’m sorry I failed to protect you. I hope I made you proud Phainon. I’m sorry I never told you-

An awful sound, like nails on a chalkboard, overwhelmed your senses, but the impact never came. You blinked open your eyes to see a blade sticking out of the Titankin’s chest. It stumbled as that sound filled the air once again, and collapsed into a pile of dust. 

For a moment, the debris shrouded your saviour in mystery, but when they ran forward and took you in their arms, you knew your prayers had somehow been answered.

“What are you doing? Your arm, it’s…” Phainon’s voice trailed off as he observed the gash in your skin. You wanted to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, but decided upon remembering your bleeding injury and his white coat. 

“Phainon?” His name fell pathetically from your lips as tears clouded your vision. Your whole body numbed, until the pain in your arm was nothing but a dull ache. 

“I’m here,” he cupped your face in his hands, “I should have gotten here sooner, I’m-“

“Ahem,” an unfamiliar voice chimed in, interrupting your tender moment. 

Behind Phainon stood a beautiful woman with golden eyes. She held some sort of stick in her hand, its shiny material covered in the same dust-like material the Titankin had been reduced to. Her short skirt and accessories were unlike anything you’d ever seen in Okhema.

“Are you going to introduce your friend?” She grinned down at you and Phainon, slugging her weapon over her shoulder. 

“Leave them alone, Stelle.” An equally exotically dressed man called as he helped your father to his feet. You noticed he had a small scar under his right eye, although it did nothing to detract from his handsome features.

“You’re no fun,” the woman huffed, nudging his shoulder.

You turned your attention back to Phainon, who was watching the duo with as much confusion as you. “Who are they?” 

Before Phainon can speak, the grey woman responded: “we’re visitors from beyond the sky, come to rescue you in your hour of need.” 

Once again, the man tried to real-in his companion. “You can’t tell everyone that,” he hissed, which was met with the woman—Stelle—rolling her eyes. 

“Is she being serious?” You asked Phainon, as he and your father hoisted you off the ground. 

“Yes… Kind of,” Phainon answered once your feet were securely on the ground. “They really are from beyond the sky. And they helped me get to you.” 

You and your father exchanged confused looks as he examined your arm. “It’s nothing major, but we need to get this stitched up.” His hand lingered on yours. 

“The path ahead is cleared, find the guards, and get yourselves to safety.” Phainon orders, having adopted his “hero” persona.

“What about you?” 

A mere touch momentarily shatters his mask. “I’ll come back to you, I promise. We need to clear out the rest of the city and get to Nikador.”

“Nikador is here?” Your father suddenly seemed uneasy. 

The man from beyond the sky ushered Serena to the exit, “leave the Titan to us, sir. Get your children to safety.” 

“You’re facing Nikador? Now?” Your voice wavered with emotion. 

“The Chrysos Heirs will defend the city from this threat,” Phainon’s words were rehearsed, his mask slipping back into place. 

“They’re right,” your father placed a calming hand on your back. “We need to get to safety. Let the Chrysos Heirs do the fighting.” 

Phainon patted your hand reassuringly, “we’ll be okay. I promise.” 

There was much more you wanted to say, but the pain in your arm had returned. Your head was starting to feel fuzzy, and from the trail you left behind while walking, it was clear you were losing too much blood. 

“Good luck,” you told Phainon as your father led you from the market. As you left, the city’s mortician passed, but said nothing. 

Death had come to Okhema, and all you could do was pray that Phainon remained on its good side. 

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

SUMMERBOY- S. WINCHESTER

day twenty three of the june bug masterlist

pairing: standford! neighbour! sam winchester x fem! reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: when your neighbour sam winchester comes home from standford for the summer, you feel like somethings... different. a flirty tension in the air, maybe? perhaps he could be something of a summer boyfriend...

warnings: pure fluff and teasing, best friends to lovers :) petnames/ nicknames, flirting, checking eachother out, mentions of weed used

“let's get lost, you can take me home- somewhere nice, we can be alone/ bikini tops, poppin' oh-oh-off (oh-oh-oh)/ don't be sad when the sun goes down/ you'll wake up and i'm not around/ you've got to go, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh (oh-oh, oh)/ we'll still have the summer after all"- summerboy, lady gaga

You didn't know what Sam Winchester was to you.

And to be quite frank, you weren't sure if he knew either.

In formalities, it was simple. He was your neighbour. He had been your neighbour since you were five.

You still remember the day he and his older brother, Dean had moved in beside you. You stuck your head out the window, watching as the two mystery boys carried boxes upon boxes.

Their father seemed cold and distant. The trunk was never opened, despite the fact they were moving. It was when you scrambled up to your room and looked out, you realized one of the boys had his room directly across from yours.

The younger one. The one your age.

You met his gaze as he set down a box on his bed, giving him a small, shy smile and a wave.

He returned it.

And the rest was history.

You tried to visit him when you could. Though the two of you weren't glued to the hip- there was some form of friendship there. You all got off at the same bus stop, until Dean went off to highschool and left just the two of you.

You weren't in the same classes until highschool, both engrossed in literature, history and religion. His dad never seemed to be home, and you always felt some form of… fatherly love from his older brother.

Whenever you could, you’d invite them over for dinner. Soon, it became a weekly thing. Then multiple days a week. Your mother never minded, they were such well behaved boys, she said- and they needed to grow big and strong.

They became comfortable with your family, almost seeming to blend into it. They were at your own kitchen table, bringing their toys- then homework over to your house more than you saw them at their own.

Not that you minded. You were the one who encouraged it, after all.

Then, your paths seemed to separate.

Dean had started working as a mechanic, and you saw him covered in oil and grease daily as he walked into his house,giving you a flirty wink as you peered at him from your window.

But typically, your eyes were glued to Sams window. Sometimes you saw him. Sometimes you didn't. Whenever you caught sight of his figure entering or leaving his room, or crouched over homework at his desk with his headphones in- nothing but a little lamp illuminating his concentrated features.

Forehead creased. A permanent pout.

It was something of a reward when you managed to catch him. Even better when you caught his eye. His entire face changed, breaking out into a smile, his eyes full of sparkle when he saw you staring.

Sometimes, little notes were scribbled, and plastered against glass- smudging it with marker. Sometimes,it was just a little wave, or a smile.

Those were the harder nights for him, you could tell. You never pressed the issue, when you caught up with him again later that week.

But then, your paths split ways. As mentioned.

Because life had caught up with the both of you.

Different schools, different places. Though your interests were the same, the final destination, and the journey to that destination was not.

However, summer vacation seemed to be a junction in the crossroads.

You hadn't expected him to come back to the nearly empty house beside yours. Yet, there he was. Tall and handsome as ever, standing in his driveway with suitcases, watching as his brother slid out of the driver seat of his Impala.

Your eyes widened.

This was the same Sam Winchester that helped you when you fell off your bike, bandaging up his knee. The same one who helped you with your math homework, you were never good at it. The same one who snuck you ice cream bars your mother never let you have, and who created a new language resembling morse code with you. He was the same, yet entirely different.

“Sam?” you called from your driveway, shielding your eyes from the hot summer sun that beat down on you. He whipped his head to the sound, smile breaking out on his face. Dropping his bags with a thud.

“Bee?”

Ah yes. That nickname.

He had started calling you his bee when you had insisted on trying to capture a bee to hold, just to pet the fuzz. That had resulted in your getting stung, which resulted in a meltdown he had to console, of course.

Still, your love of the little things still remained strong.

You ran over, not caring about your lack of footwear as you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. His arms wrapped around your waist, swinging you around, emitting a squeal before setting you down on the ground.

“Okay love birds wait till I’m in the house before you give puppy dog eyes.” a voice grumbled, hauling two bags in his arms as he made his way to the entrance.

“Nice to see you too Dean!” you called out, making him laugh.

“Always a pleasure bug.”

Your attention quickly snapped back to the moose in front of you, full of love and light, despite being back home. He seemed to lose his spark little by little the longer he was at home, and you weren't with him.

You always kept a little flame burning bright, as much as you could. When his father left, was really when it started. But with the independence and time away, and surely the much needed support from Dean- he seemed as cheerful as that five year old you met so many years ago.

He was healthy. Meat on his bones. A lot of meat in fact, you thought as you squeezed his arm playfully, met with solid muscle.

Jesus, when did that happen?

“I didn't know you were coming back for summer!” you smiled.

“What, you thought I’d leave my bee to kick around this old neighbourhood by herself?”

You shrugged. “Thought maybe you forgot about me.”

He shook his head, flicking your nose with a long finger. “I could never forget about you. I thought of you everyday, while I was gone.”

You smiled to yourself, looking down at your feet as you fidgeted them, suddenly feeling shy at his words. “We have a lot to catch up on Sammy. I really missed you.”

Strong arms pulled you in close, and you breathed in the scent of his cologne. He wore his purple dog shirt you adored so much, the one you hoped to steal.

It seems this summer, you may have your chance to afterall.

“I missed you too bee. So fuckin much.”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

So, Sam and you were closer than you had originally thought.

Friends, yes. But did friends miss each other this much? Did friends feel this sense of emptiness, a lingering, gaping hole in the heart that was small, barely noticeable until it sank in that they werent coming through your door?

Maybe. Probably.

But friends did not look at each other the way Sam Winchester looked at you.

The way you looked back at him, when you swore he wasn't looking. It had been two days since he had returned home, and it was like you two never left.

He was over at your house, sprawled out on a lounge chair with his nose deep in a book. A new lounge chair, might you add. The whole backyard was new. You left with grass, and came back with a pool, with lounge chairs and umbrellas adorning it. Not that you were complaining in the slightest.

It meant you got to show off your new bathing suit, and show off you did.

The second you stepped outside with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses, Sam was starstruck. He physically could not take his eyes off you, like you were pages in a book he could never tear his eyes away from.

You tried not to notice, but you couldn't help but giggle as you poured him a glass.

“See something you like Winchester?” you asked, teasing him.

Because seeing Sam Winchester flustered was the most adorable thing on the fucking planet.

He coughed, practically whipping his head the other way so fast he may have gave himself whiplash.

“Fuck no sorry, I mean yes- fuck. Sorry bee. You just look…”

You raised an eyebrow, sitting down in the chair beside him. “I just look…?”

He cleared his throat, looking back at you. “You look really, really good. Like really good. I guess I just, forgot we uh… grew up.”

“Yeah? You don't look too bad yourself Winchester. I’m sure your partner would agree.”

You had to get those last words out. As much as they tasted like acid in your mouth, you needed to know. Trying to act nonchalant, you slid on your sunglasses, leaning back in your chair.

“I don't have a partner bee. I have you.”

Bingo. Lifting your glasses slightly, you stared at him, though his eyes remained peeled back to the book he was reading. Smirking to yourself, you settled back in your seat.

“You’ve always had me Winchester. Wrapped around those pretty little fingers of yours.” 

He couldn't find a response suitable to yours. Couldn't think at all, actually. He had re-read the same page around eight times, and still could not retain any of its content.

All he could think of was you.

So close to him, just an arms reach away. This burning heat that scorched his body, not from the sun- but this need to touch you. To be closer to you.

Did he always feel this way? Probably. But he gripped his book harder, marking the pages as he stared forward. Sneaking glances your way when he knew you were focused on your own book, flipping through pages.

He couldn't get enough of how you looked bathed in sunlight, so carefree and elegant. He always knew you were pretty, you were so beautiful to him (and any other man who had a pair of eyes).

But you were angelic. Heavenly beyond measure.

And it drove him fucking wild. The way that bathing suit left little to the imagination… fuck. He was so, so incredibly fucked. And when those words left your lips…

You’ve always had me, Winchester.

It was like he had died and gone to heaven. His bee, his sweet little thing seemed to want him as much as he wanted you. He figured you had found someone while you were at school, knowing everyone would be jumping at you and bowing at your feet.

He did the same.

So yes, it was a bit bold of him to hug you so tight, to cling to you like a second skin since he came back home.

But he didnt care. And maybe that made him a horrible person- so be it. He was prepared to live with that, and want from a distance. But now that he knew you were single…

His phone buzzed beside him, and he made no move to grab it. Until it buzzed again. Sighing, he saw two texts from his brother illuminated on the screen.

Dean: Dude you know she's beautiful. And she clearly wants you, so stop fawning at her and do something, for god's sake.

Dean: I try to stay out of your love life if I can help it but Jesus Sammy its been there for years.

Sam whipped his head around, back to his house. No one was in the window, and yet- he knew he had a set of eyes on him.

Sam: Dude, are you watching us? Weird. Also, I’m not fawning.

Dean: Not my fault her backyard is in direct eyeline of my bedroom window. And yes, you fucking are. You;ve been on the same page for ten minutes, and you haven't stopped staring at her. I don't blame you though.

Sam: Oh fuck off.

Dean: Bitch.

Sam: Jerk.

He smiled softly to himself, setting his phone face down so he could enjoy the rest of his time with you in peace.

Although Dean was right. He was fawning. And he couldn't stop.

He didn't think he’d ever be able to stop, and he didn't think he really wanted to. Your voice broke him from his trance, staring at you yet again. You met his gaze, a smile on your face. He could've sworn your eyes swept down his body, checking him out like you were appreciating fine art at a gallery. The way your eyes wandered made his cheeks heat.

“I’m gonna go for a swim. Care to join?”

He shrugged, smirking. “What's in it for me?”

“Uh time with me. Is that not a reward in itself?”

He huffed, getting a rise out of teasing you. “I was thinking maybe a drumstick.”

You rolled your eyes, slipping yourself down into the water with ease. The Drumsticks were a Winchester favourite. He thought about last night, when you two were stoned, uncontrollably giggling on the kitchen floor, licking dripping ice cream from your fingers.

He wanted that again. He wanted to kiss the ice cream off your lips, to taste it on his tongue.

A splash of water you aimed at him made him grin, knowing that was you urging him to follow suit. Of course he would. He’d follow you anywhere.

“Sam Winchester, get your ass in this water right no- EEK!” you screamed as he suddenly leapt from the patio into a cannonball, soaking you completely.

“You jerk!” you laughed, watching as he emerged from the surface, a wild, playful look in his eye as he shook his head, hair splattering drops of water all over your face. You couldn't help but giggle, leaping into his arms again, clinging to him as he weightlessly carried you through the deep end of the pool.

A gentle kiss was placed to the top of your head, a smile that beamed emerging on your face. You felt like the human embodiment of sunshine, with him.

Your summer boyfriend, was what you decided to call him. And maybe by the end of it, he’d be your permanent boyfriend.

Challenge accepted summer. Challenge accepted.

[yansurnummu]

Critiquing the Construction of Cipher's Midden

AKA "Why Can't Hermaeus Mora, In His Infinite Knowledge, Teach These Poor Nerds Some Basic Joinery Techniques"

Being back in Apocrypha replaying these quests after what, 2 years now? Got me actually looking around and looking at some details in a few houses (for fic purposes, of course) and then once I started doing that, being a woodworking aficionado with some construction experience myself, I couldn't help noticing a few things.

(Disclaimer that this is just for fun and not meant to be ripping on the actual ESO devs who did a great job of creating some really great environments and set pieces)

Unsupported beams: Putting beams across an otherwise open roof situation like this will add rigidity to the structure, but uh. They've gotta actually be attached to the frame. To have it just stuck to the interior panels like that is concerning. Honestly, from this point on, I'm just assuming any circular beams are purely a decorative choice because they just don't make sense otherwise.

Mystery Gaps: This is only the beginning for these particular beams. They will become a recurring theme. it's actually fairly common in modern-day construction to have multiple thinner pieces of wood (like 2x4s for example) stacked together like this to create support beams as this is usually a more cost-effective option than something like 4x4 hardwood and isn't really significantly less strong. but having 1-2 inch gaps between them is ???? not that bad I guess but just why? You're only making more work for yourself.

Missed Connections: If we're assuming these beams are carried over from the outside, then these oddly-spaced, doubled-up beams are likely what's supporting the eaves of the roof. That's not good! Leramil, your study's gonna blow over in a stiff breeze! Always carry your load-bearing beams across the frame!

This is Fine: well, it's not fine, it's probably not helping with insulation in here, but structurally it's not a big deal, just a bit baffling. It looks like their roofs are built in 3 layers; the boards visible behind the broken parts would be laid down first over the frame, and then the shingles on top, and then this broken shiplap (using that literally here lol) is the interior layer. Note how they don't quite meet up where the frame is.

I have no idea what that metal brace is holding up. Or the ropes. I guess the Ciphers are all just really into shibari or something.

Here we can see that someone among the Ciphers has the skills to actually cut proper joinery. From the look of it, that beam is supported by this round log, which has a joint cut into it to keep it in place. Good job!

And here we can see the ends of those doubled-up beams from the interior.

Decorative Protrusions: So, there is a historical precedent for details like this, but typically they would be supporting the floor of an attic. On the opposite side of this, there's just... wall.

After the nightmare that is the interior, I was interested to see how bad the foundation would be, but honestly? It's pretty solid, assuming the beams are lap jointed (cutting blocks off the beam on the outside and cutting a corner off your beams on the inside so they then fit together and sit flush without the need for nails) Evenly spaced 4x4 beams about a foot apart, this would be great if not for the floorboards running parallel to the beams themselves, and then the odd connections of the posts that serve as the foundation not actually sitting on the frame. So close!

So, canonically, I believe that the Ciphers get most of their material salvaged from Fathom's Drift, which makes things like this doorframe actually make a decent amount of sense. These long, curved beams could feasibly have been part of a ship's hull once, and I think that's a pretty cool touch.

Now, onto the walkways:

a suspension bridge without a railing is just a springboard for co-workers you hate. bonus points for the tripping hazard to make extra sure you faceplant on the ground below.

I have no words for this railing. the nice thing about it is, assuming all those rods are dowelled into the boards beneath them, this could actually work out if they properly connected the rail itself. which it doesn't seem like they have, if the mix of nails and rope is anything to go by.

Before I finish this, I just wanna take a quick look at some furniture:

(Yes, I know these are technically the rustic High Isle set, but I'm doing them anyway)

Really the only issue I have with this table and chair set is that the seat of the chair is covered in nails. Don't do that. You've already used dowels on the back, just use them to connect the seat as well. Or if you have to use nails, you can sink them down further and then plug them with something. (I'm sure there's a tamriel equivalent of wood filler, it's basically just sawdust and adhesive) Otherwise these are both pretty solid and well built.

The chair back is a little interesting though. It's pretty common for chairs to be built with tennon joints (basically the vertical pieces have niches carved into them, and the horizontal slats either have the ends tapered, or carved away entirely to sit flush with the other piece) but the visible dowels are a little weird and probably not doing anything structurally. I guess it could be an aesthetic choice.

TL;DR:

Most of this place would absolutely not pass a building inspection. These choices vary from dangerous to just kind of weird, and the Ciphers should probably find a new carpenter.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk <3

[lunarruled]

Normally this was the point where Kyleigh would either just let Magna rot in that prison all on her own or throw hands with the way she spoke to her. But after all they had been through in the short time they had been together the half lycan decided to just let it slip right by. She wasn't exactly in the best mood either, already way too hot and sweaty and pissed the hell off that she was in this situation. If only she had just found a car or house to stay in to get away from the storms! But no, she saw the prison and thought it would be the perfect spot! What a fucking jackass she was. Ignoring the rather harsh retort that played in her mind thanks to the wolf, Kyleigh took a deep breath and centered herself.

"That's what I'm trying to put together. As long as we have an exit we have something to shoot for. Right now we just need a way to get there."

She tried to say it as calmly as she could, though now that she got a second glance at those monitors she could see why it looked like it was impossible to do. There were more of those freaks in there than she originally thought, and opening up very heavy doors was a sure bet to luring them too close for comfort. "Yes, a distraction would be amazing! Maybe try to herd them all into a couple of the rooms and shut them in there." That was one way to go about it, but how would they do that from where they were now? Kyleigh knew how to get the electrical working, she didn't know what each specific button did.

Magna's words caused the half lycan to glance up at the ceiling. For fuck's sake not those damn vents again! However it seemed as if they were the safest route at the moment. Thinking over the other woman's words Kyleigh began to move around the room in search for a map. There had to be one somewhere in this place. In case repairs were needed, or someone did get up there for some other stupid reason. She opened up all the desk drawers and pushed shit around. Mostly papers, pens, the typical office supply things.

"There has to be a master map or something in this prison, one of the offices. If they had maintenance it might be there. Or the warden's place. You ever get sent there?"

If Magna knew where that was and how to get there they could try that, but they would have to go on foot and face whatever might come their way.

"All that's in here are files and reports, nothing that we can really use. I don't want to go back up in those things without some sort of direction to head in. We could always just get up there and whenever we get to one of the vents look down and see where we are. But we could be there all day so I don't think we should do that…"

Before she went into a full blown, panic ridden rant, Kyleigh stopped herself and let out a long breath. That would only lead to the both of them getting killed and she was not doing that. "Alright, just keep looking. Any kind of map will do, but if we have to we'll just have to take a guess for which direction to go in. I don't know about you but I don't want to die in here and be trapped forever as one of those things."

What seemed like an unbearable weight upon Magna's shoulders seemed to lessen upon hearing that the other woman didn't blame her. Not that it erased the guilt, but now it no longer felt as if it was taking over her senses. Being the only one alive had done things to her. Had her question whether her survival had been some cruel cosmic joke. Why had she, of all people, survived? And had it really been luck? Every time she pondered how she'd made it this far, she came to the conclusion that she must've gotten lucky. But maybe it was punishment that Magna would live long enough just to see the worst of it. Maybe the ones that had been the first ones to go had never been the unlucky ones. Never having to see the cruelty among the prisoners, the diminishing numbers of survivors and the increasing masses of the undead.

Maybe she would go out in the worst moment because of all the shit she's done.

Her heart threatened to explode as she caught sight of a few sickos tearing into the flesh of a body in one of the bathrooms, the movement of a leg being the only indicator that this person was still alive. Shit.

Had she caused this? Had she lured that survivor into a death trap because she'd triggered the alarm?

Magna didn't even have the capacity to really think this through, the thought quickly fading from her mind, but the feeling of anxiety remaining in her chest. Her attention quickly shifted to Kyleigh, pointing to the visitor room.

"We need a plan", she shot back, sharper than she intended to, but more with an edge of desperation rather than anger directed towards the woman. "Opening that electronic door is gonna make noise." She knew it did. She's heard them opening a few times, back when the main power was still on. "I don't want those dead fuckers blocking the way. Maybe we can cover the noise. Broadcast a message to another room, clear the path."

The sound of Magna's deep sigh was drowned out by the shrill alarm, as she braced herself to sneak through the vents again. Hopefully for the last time. She hoped there wouldn't be a fan again - she guessed that fan from earlier had been there to avoid carbon monoxide poisoning from the back-up generator. "If we could only figure out into which damn direction to crawl," Magna commented, expression as surly as her tone. "I'd kill so many of them for a goddamn map."

[anghraine]

I know it's well-understood at this point that Kirk/Spock is much more of a nerd4nerd ship than a nerd/jock thing, but it's just been kind of percolating around my mind that both of them aren't just space nerds but space nerds who were personally bullied.

Like, 18-year-old Kirk was targeted by an older bully who combines "total asshole" with "the most grating man in existence":

MCCOY: Well, yeah, I'm beginning to feel a little bit picked-on, if that's what you mean. KIRK: I know the feeling very well. I had it at the Academy. An upperclassman there. One practical joke after another, and always on me. My own personal devil. A guy by the name of Finnegan. MCCOY: And you being the very serious young— KIRK: Serious? I'll make a confession, Bones. I was absolutely grim, which delighted Finnegan no end.

This was five years after Kirk survived a genocide, btw, and likely well before his stint as an Academy instructor known to be strict and demanding (which is the period the "stack of books with legs" description of him comes from). By the time he's 33, fifteen years after all this, it turns out one of his deepest fantasies is just beating the shit out of his bully, but only if he can do it According To The Rules (the replica of Finnegan sneers, "Always fight fair, don't you? True officer and gentleman, you").

Spock, meanwhile, is viciously targeted by his Vulcan peers for being biracial from at least age 5; he's described as being tormented by other boys by that age, and "at home nowhere except Starfleet." I think he'd have been 18 or 19 when he left for Starfleet and it's... the least bad of his options, but he seems to have spent his entire career among humans and being persistently subjected to raw racism and profound disrespect for his culture at every turn.

Like, their histories of being metaphorically shoved into lockers are not identical or anything, but I think it's interesting that they both have them.

[sealrock]

febhyurary, day 5: color

23rd sun of the 2nd umbral moon, 1547

my pet project with a colored aethograph, or what I like to call an 'aethochrome', with aetherically enhanced ink to capture colors. featuring my friend and classmate, elaine tatlonghari. taken early morning, with a waxing crescent moon in the background. I accidentally mixed in too much red during the process, and it gives the impression that it's still autumn. —W.J.

[moonlight-at-dawn]

I wish my sleep schedule would stop being so fucking random and garbage!!! Can I PLEASE just be awake for 16hr and sleep for 8hr like a functional human!? this sleeping for 12hr and being awake for 18-30hr is bullshit

[maddiemuu]

my most piping hot historical/academic take is that people who condemn "historians" at large for not applying modern sexuality and gender labels to historical figures are incredibly annoying at best.

[faggling]

I love taking care of people omggg 😍😍😍

[unionizedwizard]

i mean typically this is like

>research shows testosterone HRT is not a contraceptive so you still need to use protection!

>ok. do you know if it has literally any effect on fertility whatsoever?

>lol no

>ok. so hypothetically how would a trans man on HRT know if he's pregnant?

>well silly girl :) you just check your period :) if you missed your period you might be pregnant! duh!

>ok. testosterone HRT stops your period after, like, 3 months though

>[windows error sounds] well then you can usually feel your breasts get heavier and more tender :)

>ok. what about people who don't have mammary glands anymore? how would that even work?

>listen i don't know. why don't you have a pregnancy test?

>those tests work by detecting a specific hormone. does HRT interfere with this hormone by either making it undetectable or stopping its production entirely or anything? how do i know the test itself is reliable?

>have you tried the morning after pill?

>the morning after pill is also hormone-based. how do i know it's reliable? does taking testosterone HRT have any impact on its efficiency? could it potentially cause an adverse reaction? could a trans man with updated ID documents even access it in the first place since the pharmacy only delivers it to people they think, at a glance, could be pregnant?

etc etc

[teaboot]

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[tofupixel]

⭐ So you want to learn pixel art? ⭐

🔹 Part 1 of ??? - The Basics!

Edit: Now available in Google Doc format if you don't have a Tumblr account 🥰

Hello, my name is Tofu and I'm a professional pixel artist. I have been supporting myself with freelance pixel art since 2020, when I was let go from my job during the pandemic.

My progress, from 2017 to 2024. IMO the only thing that really matters is time and effort, not some kind of natural talent for art.

This guide will not be comprehensive, as nobody should be expected to read allat. Instead I will lean heavily on my own experience, and share what worked for me, so take everything with a grain of salt. This is a guide, not a tutorial. Cheers!

🔹 Do I need money?

NO!!! Pixel art is one of the most accessible mediums out there.

I still use a mouse because I prefer it to a tablet! You won't be at any disadvantage here if you can't afford the best hardware or software.

Because our canvases are typically very small, you don't need a good PC to run a good brush engine or anything like that.

✨Did you know? One of the most skilled and beloved pixel artists uses MS PAINT! Wow!!

🔹 What software should I use?

Here are some of the most popular programs I see my friends and peers using. Stars show how much I recommend the software for beginners! ⭐

💰 Paid options:

⭐⭐⭐ Aseprite (for PC) - $19.99

This is what I and many other pixel artists use. You may find when applying to jobs that they require some knowledge of Aseprite. Since it has become so popular, companies like that you can swap raw files between artists.

Aseprite is amazingly customizable, with custom skins, scripts and extensions on Itch.io, both free and paid.

If you have ever used any art software before, it has most of the same features and should feel fairly familiar to use. It features a robust animation suite and a tilemap feature, which have saved me thousands of hours of labour in my work. The software is also being updated all the time, and the developers listen to the users. I really recommend Aseprite!

⭐ Photoshop (for PC) - Monthly $$

A decent option for those who already are used to the PS interface. Requires some setup to get it ready for pixel-perfect art, but there are plenty of tutorials for doing so.

Animation is also much more tedious on PS which you may want to consider before investing time!

⭐⭐ ProMotion NG (for PC) - $19.00

An advanced and powerful software which has many features Aseprite does not, including Colour Cycling and animated tiles.

⭐⭐⭐ Pixquare (for iOS) - $7.99 - $19.99 (30% off with code 'tofu'!!)

Probably the best app available for iPad users, in active development, with new features added all the time.

Look! My buddy Jon recommends it highly, and uses it often.

One cool thing about Pixquare is that it takes Aseprite raw files! Many of my friends use it to work on the same project, both in their office and on the go.

⭐ Procreate (for iOS) - $12.99

If you have access to Procreate already, it's a decent option to get used to doing pixel art. It does however require some setup. Artist Pixebo is famously using Procreate, and they have tutorials of their own if you want to learn.

⭐⭐ ReSprite iOS and Android. (free trial, but:) $19.99 premium or $$ monthly

ReSprite is VERY similar in terms of UI to Aseprite, so I can recommend it. They just launched their Android release!

🆓 Free options:

⭐⭐⭐ Libresprite (for PC)

Libresprite is an alternative to Aseprite. It is very, very similar, to the point where documentation for Aseprite will be helpful to Libresprite users.

⭐⭐ Pixilart (for PC and mobile)

A free in-browser app, and also a mobile app! It is tied to the website Pixilart, where artists upload and share their work. A good option for those also looking to get involved in a community.

⭐⭐ Dotpict (for mobile)

Dotpict is similar to Pixilart, with a mobile app tied to a website, but it's a Japanese service. Did you know that in Japanese, pixel art is called 'Dot Art'? Dotpict can be a great way to connect with a different community of pixel artists! They also have prompts and challenges often.

🔹 So I got my software, now what?

◽Nice! Now it's time for the basics of pixel art.

❗ WAIT ❗ Before this section, I want to add a little disclaimer. All of these rules/guidelines can be broken at will, and some 'no-nos' can look amazing when done intentionally.

The pixel-art fundamentals can be exceedingly helpful to new artists, who may feel lost or overwhelmed by choice. But if you feel they restrict you too harshly, don't force yourself! At the end of the day it's your art, and you shouldn't try to contort yourself into what people think a pixel artist 'should be'. What matters is your own artistic expression. 💕👍

◽Phew! With that out of the way...

🔸"The Rules"

There are few hard 'rules' of pixel art, mostly about scaling and exporting. Some of these things will frequently trip up newbies if they aren't aware, and are easy to overlook.

🔹Scaling method

There are a couple ways of scaling your art. The default in most art programs, and the entire internet, is Bi-linear scaling, which usually works out fine for most purposes. But as pixel artists, we need a different method.

Both are scaled up x10. See the difference?

On the left is scaled using Bilinear, and on the right is using Nearest-Neighbor. We love seeing those pixels stay crisp and clean, so we use nearest-neighbor. 

(Most pixel-art programs have nearest-neighbor enabled by default! So this may not apply to you, but it's important to know.)

🔹Mixels

Mixels are when there are different (mixed) pixel sizes in the same image.

Here I have scaled up my art- the left is 200%, and the right is 150%. Yuck!

As we can see, the "pixel" sizes end up different. We generally try to scale our work by multiples of 100 - 200%, 300% etc. rather than 150%. At larger scales however, the minute differences in pixel sizes are hardly noticeable!

Mixels are also sometimes seen when an artist scales up their work, then continues drawing on it with a 1 pixel brush.

Many would say that this is not great looking! This type of pixels can be indicative of a beginner artist. But there are plenty of creative pixel artists out there who mixels intentionally, making something modern and cool.

🔹Saving Your Files

We usually save our still images as .PNGs as they don’t create any JPEG artifacts or loss of quality. It's a little hard to see here, but there are some artifacts, and it looks a little blurry. It also makes the art very hard to work with if we are importing a JPEG.

For animations .GIF is good, but be careful of the 256 colour limit. Try to avoid using too many blending mode layers or gradients when working with animations. If you aren’t careful, your animation could flash afterwards, as the .GIF tries to reduce colours wherever it can. It doesn’t look great!

Here's an old piece from 2021 where I experienced .GIF lossiness, because I used gradients and transparency, resulting in way too many colours.

🔹Pixel Art Fundamentals - Techniques and Jargon

❗❗Confused about Jaggies? Anti-Aliasing? Banding? Dithering? THIS THREAD is for you❗❗ << it's a link, click it!!

As far as I'm concerned, this is THE tutorial of all time for understanding pixel art. These are techniques created and named by the community of people who actually put the list together, some of the best pixel artists alive currently. Please read it!!

🔸How To Learn

Okay, so you have your software, and you're all ready to start. But maybe you need some more guidance? Try these tutorials and resources! It can be helpful to work along with a tutorial until you build your confidence up.

⭐⭐ Pixel Logic (A Digital Book) - $10 A very comprehensive visual guide book by a very skilled and established artist in the industry. I own a copy myself.

⭐⭐⭐ StudioMiniBoss - free A collection of visual tutorials, by the artist that worked on Celeste! When starting out, if I got stuck, I would go and scour his tutorials and see how he did it.

⭐ Lospec Tutorials - free A very large collection of various tutorials from all over the internet. There is a lot to sift through here if you have the time.

⭐⭐⭐ Cyangmou's Tutorials - free (tipping optional) Cyangmou is one of the most respected and accomplished modern pixel artists, and he has amassed a HUGE collection of free and incredibly well-educated visual tutorials. He also hosts an educational stream every week on Twitch called 'pixelart for beginners'.

⭐⭐⭐ Youtube Tutorials - free There are hundreds, if not thousands of tutorials on YouTube, but it can be tricky to find the good ones. My personal recommendations are MortMort, Brandon, and AdamCYounis- these guys really know what they're talking about!

🔸 How to choose a canvas size

When looking at pixel art turorials, we may see people suggest things like 16x16, 32x32 and 64x64. These are standard sizes for pixel art games with tiles. However, if you're just making a drawing, you don't necessarily need to use a standard canvas size like that.

What I like to think about when choosing a canvas size for my illustrations is 'what features do I think it is important to represent?' And make my canvas as small as possible, while still leaving room for my most important elements.

Imagine I have characters in a scene like this:

I made my canvas as small as possible (232 x 314), but just big enough to represent the features and have them be recognizable (it's Good Omens fanart 😤)!! If I had made it any bigger, I would be working on it for ever, due to how much more foliage I would have to render.

If you want to do an illustration and you're not sure, just start at somewhere around 100x100 - 200x200 and go from there.

It's perfectly okay to crop your canvas, or scale it up, or crunch your art down at any point if you think you need a different size. I do it all the time! It only takes a bit of cleanup to get you back to where you were.

🔸Where To Post

Outside of just regular socials, Twitter, Tumblr, Deviantart, Instagram etc, there are a few places that lean more towards pixel art that you might not have heard of.

⭐ Lospec Lospec is a low-res focused art website. Some pieces get given a 'monthly masterpiece' award. Not incredibly active, but I believe there are more features being added often.

⭐⭐ Pixilart Pixilart is a very popular pixel art community, with an app tied to it. The community tends to lean on the young side, so this is a low-pressure place to post with an relaxed vibe.

⭐⭐ Pixeljoint Pixeljoint is one of the big, old-school pixel art websites. You can only upload your art unscaled (1x) because there is a built-in zoom viewer. It has a bit of a reputation for being elitist (back in the 00s it was), but in my experience it's not like that any more. This is a fine place for a pixel artist to post if they are really interested in learning, and the history. The Hall of Fame has some of the most famous / impressive pixel art pieces that paved the way for the work we are doing today.

⭐⭐⭐ Cafe Dot Cafe Dot is my art server so I'm a little biased here. 🍵 It was created during the recent social media turbulence. We wanted a place to post art with no algorithms, and no NFT or AI chuds. We have a heavy no-self-promotion rule, and are more interested in community than skill or exclusivity. The other thing is that we have some kind of verification system- you must apply to be a Creator before you can post in the Art feed, or use voice. This helps combat the people who just want to self-promo and dip, or cause trouble, as well as weed out AI/NFT people. Until then, you are still welcome to post in any of the threads or channels. There is a lot to do in Cafe Dot. I host events weekly, so check the threads!

⭐⭐/r/pixelart The pixel art subreddit is pretty active! I've also heard some of my friends found work through posting here, so it's worth a try if you're looking. However, it is still Reddit- so if you're sensitive to rude people, or criticism you didn't ask for, you may want to avoid this one. Lol

🔸 Where To Find Work

You need money? I got you! As someone who mostly gets scouted on social media, I can share a few tips with you:

Put your email / portfolio in your bio Recruiters don't have all that much time to find artists, make it as easy as possible for someone to find your important information!

Clean up your profile If your profile feed is all full of memes, most people will just tab out rather than sift through. Doesn't apply as much to Tumblr if you have an art tag people can look at.

Post regularly, and repost Activity beats everything in the social media game. It's like rolling the dice, and the more you post the more chances you have. You have to have no shame, it's all business baby

Outside of just posting regularly and hoping people reach out to you, it can be hard to know where to look. Here are a few places you can sign up to and post around on.

/r/INAT INAT (I Need A Team) is a subreddit for finding a team to work with. You can post your portfolio here, or browse for people who need artists.

/r/GameDevClassifieds Same as above, but specifically for game-related projects.

Remote Game Jobs / Work With Indies Like Indeed but for game jobs. Browse them often, or get email notifications.

VGen VGen is a website specifically for commissions. You need a code from another verified artist before you can upgrade your account and sell, so ask around on social media or ask your friends. Once your account is upgraded, you can make a 'menu' of services people can purchase, and they send you an offer which you are able to accept, decline, or counter.

The evil websites of doom: Fiverr and Upwork I don't recommend them!! They take a big cut of your profit, and the sites are teeming with NFT and AI people hoping to make a quick buck. The site is also extremely oversaturated and competitive, resulting in a race to the bottom (the cheapest, the fastest, doing the most for the least). Imagine the kind of clients who go to these websites, looking for the cheapest option. But if you're really desperate...

🔸 Community

I do really recommend getting involved in a community. Finding like-minded friends can help you stay motivated to keep drawing. One day, those friends you met when you were just starting out may become your peers in the industry. Making friends is a game changer!

Discord servers Nowadays, the forums of old are mostly abandoned, and people split off into many different servers. Cafe Dot, Pixel Art Discord (PAD), and if you can stomach scrolling past all the AI slop, you can browse Discord servers here.

Twitch Streams Twitch has kind of a bad reputation for being home to some of the more edgy gamers online, but the pixel art community is extremely welcoming and inclusive. Some of the people I met on Twitch are my friends to this day, and we've even worked together on different projects! Browse pixel art streams here, or follow some I recommend: NickWoz, JDZombi, CupOhJoe, GrayLure, LumpyTouch, FrankiePixelShow, MortMort, Sodor, NateyCakes, NyuraKim, ShinySeabass, I could go on for ever really... There are a lot of good eggs on Pixel Art Twitch.

🔸 Other Helpful Websites

Palettes Lospec has a huge collection of user-made palettes, for any artist who has trouble choosing their colours, or just wants to try something fun. Rejected Palettes is full of palettes that didn't quite make it onto Lospec, ran by people who believe there are no bad colours.

The Spriters Resource TSR is an incredible website where users can upload spritesheets and tilesets from games. You can browse for your favourite childhood game, and see how they made it! This website has helped me so much in understanding how game assets come together in a scene.

VGMaps Similar to the above, except there are entire maps laid out how they would be played. This is incredible if you have to do level design, or for mocking up a scene for fun.

Game UI Database Not pixel-art specific, but UI is a very challenging part of graphics, so this site can be a game-changer for finding good references!

Retronator A digital newspaper for pixel-art lovers! New game releases, tutorials, and artworks!

Itch.io A website where people can upload, games, assets, tools... An amazing hub for game devs and game fans alike. A few of my favourite tools: Tiled, PICO-8, Pixel Composer, Juice FX, Magic Pencil for Aseprite

🔸 The End?

This is just part 1 for now, so please drop me a follow to see any more guides I release in the future. I plan on doing some writeups on how I choose colours, how to practise, and more!

I'm not an expert by any means, but everything I did to get to where I am is outlined in this guide. Pixel art is my passion, my job and my hobby! I want pixel art to be recognized everywhere as an art-form, a medium of its own outside of game-art or computer graphics!

This guide took me a long time, and took a lot of research and experience. Consider following me or supporting me if you are feeling generous.

And good luck to all the fledgling pixel artists, I hope you'll continue and have fun. I hope my guide helped you, and don't hesitate to send me an ask if you have any questions! 💕

My other tutorials (so far): How to draw Simple Grass for a game Hue Shifting