#tiny feral big glasses so true

[hezzabeth]

Nano days 10-13

“Of course, it does. Little Habi doesn’t have my figure,” Revati said proudly as the two feral children came bounding around her pink velvet skirts.

There was a quiet, embarrassed shuffling sound. Revati glanced over her shoulder and realized it was the lost boy.

“So, you’re going to steal my shoes and bracelet?” he asked nervously.

“Take the bracelet; we have enough boots,” Revati said, and Aurora timidly walked towards the boy, extending a hand.

“Do I really have to give her my bracelet?” he asked with a small, bewildered smile.

“We could send you back in there! I’m sure Big Hardie is awake and ready to perform,” Revati said, and with a vague shrug, the boy undid his bracelet, handing it over to Aurora.

“Let’s go,” Revati said to Aurora before snapping her fingers again, causing the feral children to fall back in line.

“Now hang on!” the boy cried, chasing after them.

Revati just kept marching on, holding her skirts up above her ankles.

“Look, did you just save my life? Were those actors really going to kill me? That’s a crime!” the boy pointed out, and Revati spun around, examining the boy.

The boy was dressed in a simple yet surprisingly new bright blue jumpsuit. His plastic boots barely looked worn, yet he had calluses all over his fingers. Revati’s eyes trailed upwards, briefly taking in the bruises on his neck.

“You’re on ungoverned territory; everything is legal here, technically,” Revati said ignoring the blood all over the feral children’s clothes.

“Well, that explains the naked people I saw dancing around a burning information screen in the wasteland,” the boy said as Revati and Aurora kept marching on.

“Oh, those are the Luddites! They were actors in the medieval section, and now they reject all forms of technology,” Aurora explained as they continued walking the streets, changing from thatched roof buildings to narrow brick townhouses.

“Medieval section? Where exactly am I?” the boy asked, and Revati snorted.

“I don’t have time to explain a confusing and contradictory society to you! Over there is one of the theme park's maps,” Revati snapped, gesturing to an old, large poster framed in cloudy glass.

The investors and creators of Olde Landon split each park section into separate areas. Each area was designed to be a tiny fun-filled replica of a “romantic” time period.

There was Shakespeare Lane that consisted of the theatre. It also contained abandoned rides such as “Hamlet’s haunted house” and “The Tempest Shipwreck adventure”.

To the left lay Medieval Faire. Medieval Faire’s most popular attractions were the giant jumping castle, clockwork-powered metal horses, and the tofu turkey leg stands.

Revati herself lived in Victoriana, which was mostly “true crime and mystery” themed. Revati’s street alone had two abandoned “murder mystery” dinner theaters.

Finally, there was “Whistleton”. Revati despised Whistleton. Whistleton, where the only thing to drink was old stale tea, and the food was always some form of bland cake. Whistleton, where every actor over the age of eighteen had to be “matched and married” by the end of September. Those who remained single were banished to the wastelands. Aurora, realizing she never wanted to marry anyone, had defected to Victoriana when she was twelve.

Whistleton, where the tourists who were trapped in that section ended up becoming indentured servants. Revati could see one of them now scrubbing at a cobblestone with a toothbrush.

Whistleton was the only part of the park with a connection to the outside world. A tenuous, terrifying connection Revati hated to think about.

“Oh, I see! This is one of those historical reenactment fun parks! We have one of those on my space station called Millennial land,” the boy remarked, turning away from the sign.

“I've heard of Millennial land; isn’t that the place with the museum holding the only remaining iPhone thing?” Revati asked as they turned the corner, entering Mayfair Street.

Unlike the rest of Olde Landon that was slowly rotting, Mayfair Street gleamed. Each of the white mansion facades had been trimmed with buttery gold paint. Glorious flowers grew in hanging pots from the street signs. Fashionable actors, wearing carefully taken care of costumes, strolled happily, taking in the jasmine-scented night air.

“Now isn’t this lovely?” the boy remarked, and Revati glared at him.

“Why are you still following me?” She asked coldly.

“Honestly, I have nowhere else to go! Look at those Persian buttercups! They’re the size of my fist,” the boy remarked, walking towards one of the hanging baskets.

One of the actors peeled away from her partner and glided towards Revati.

“So it was your Auntie who messaged us," and Aurora blushed, nodding.

“Mrs. Danfront,” Revati said with a small, curt nod.

Mrs. Danfront was a middle-aged, plump lady spilling out the front of her empire-cut baby blue gown. A lace-trimmed bonnet had been fastened onto her peach-pink corkscrew curls.

“Miss Revati! I see you and my niece are following the dress code! Delightful,” Mrs. Danfront smiled, snapping her fan open.

“Last time I visited wearing pants, you tried to lock me up; you said I had female hysteria,” Revati smiled back, and Mrs. Danfront chuckled.

“And you kicked the door down! You’ve always been so entertaining, Miss Revati,” Mrs. Danfront smiled.

Revati merely tied the children’s leashes to one of the lamp posts to prevent them from running away.

“I don’t have time for chattering and social pleasantries; I’m here for my sister,” Revati shot back, and Mrs. Danfront’s smile fell slightly.

“Ah yes, as my Aurora would tell you, I’m not normally one to mess with matters of the heart,” Mrs. Danfront said as she stepped over one of the children to link her arm with Revati’s.

Revati breathed in deeply, reminding herself that this was something all women did in Whistleton; it was as if they were incapable of walking alone.

“No one could ever accuse you of caring about a person's heart,” Revati replied smoothly as they began to stroll.

Here's the corrected version of your text:

That was another thing about Whistleton; one of the key forms of entertainment seemed to be mindless strolling.

“In this situation, however, I found myself having to throw discretion to the wind! Your sister has somehow managed to set her cap at the Duke of Io,” Mrs. Danfront gasped, covering her fan with her mouth.

“Amma said her boyfriend is some sort of charity aid worker! The sort who drops medical supplies on us from the sky once a month,” Revati replied as they passed the boy, who was now examining a bush filled with roses.

The air droppers were really the only people who cared about war refugees. No one knew which charity they represented, and they did have a tendency to drop off useless things like old t-shirts and near-expired food.

“He wants people to think that, but we all realized who he was the minute he landed! Mint skin and pale blue hair? So obvious,” Mrs. Danfront said.

So obvious. Revati hadn’t seen much of the outside world, but even she knew what the Io royal family looked like. The Io royal family's skin color was caused by an ancestor genetically splicing themselves with a houseplant. The pale blue hair was a popular color all royalty embraced.

“He could just be a rich danger tourist,” Revati pointed out.

“Oh no, he looks just like his great-uncle! Before you girls were born, the King of Io was forever in the papers! People thought he was having an affair with the lost princess,” Mrs. Danfront gossiped.

“And you said she was heading to the west parking lot?” Revati asked as they stopped strolling, reaching the end of Mayfair street.

Before them stood a cream sandstone building with a large domed copper ceiling. The steps were already crowded with young people, mostly the children of older actors. They were all dressed in the finest satins and velvets the park's costume department had to offer. Several of them shot Revati and Aurora filthy looks.

“Keep your eyes to yourself; we’re not here to steal your future spouses,” Revati smirked at one red-headed girl in green who was downright glaring.

“They’re mad at your sister, dear. It’s not often we get new people here! Everyone wanted a chance to snatch the Duke,” Mrs. Danfront remarked.

“Probably because without new blood, this entire place will descend into incestuous chaos,” giggled Aurora nervously, and her Aunt glared at her.

“Ladies discuss the weather and fabrics, not science,” she said, scolding her admonished niece. Then her eyes trailed behind Revati.

The boy was still following them in a vague sort of way, holding a red rose in one hand.

“Speaking of new blood, who’s the boy? I haven’t seen hair like that in over a decade! And he’s short! He must be off-world,” Mrs. Danfront remarked, examining the boy who had caught up to them.

“I have no idea who he is; the Habri boys picked him up in the wasteland, and now he’s following me,” Revati said, and the boy nodded at Mrs. Danfront, smiling again.

“Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Brigadeiro Bun! And you’re right, I am from another world,” he said to Mrs. Danfront.

“Really! How delightful, and how on earth did you get here, Mr. Bun?” Mrs. Danfront giggled, and Revati sighed, rolling her eyes.

“We don’t have time for this! You need to get me into that ball right now,” she said, and Brigadeiro Bun turned to Revati.

His name didn’t suit him at all. Brigadeiro sounded like the sort of grand name that belonged to a master swordsman with knee-high boots and a black velvet cape. And Bun... Bun sounded like it should belong to a cheerful grandmother in a bakery with flour up to her elbows.

Brigadeiro Bun was smiling at her, that same baffling, gentle smile.

“I was traveling during my gap year when I heard a story about solid diamond roses growing in the wasteland outside BritinduSarvadharma,” he smiled.

“So you’re an idiot then,” Revati pointed out as they approached the pantheon’s front doors.

An elderly man dressed in a three-piece suit was standing behind a small podium.

“I prefer to think of myself as an adventurer,” he replied, and Aurora squawked with laughter.

The elderly man’s saggy face shifted like an avalanche when he realized who was approaching.

His lips pursed together, and he shook his head like a tyrant deciding the fate of an entire galaxy.

“Oh no, Mrs. Danfront, I told you before, this ball is for the gentry and their guests,” he said, and Revati rolled her eyes, pulling out her solar gun.

“Just let us in already, Nuisanceworth,” Revati said.

“It’s Nancyworth, no invitations, no entry! You can kill me, but it won’t change anything,” Nancyworth replied, raising his thick eyebrows in a devastating display of power.

“You were always so droll, Nancyworth! Now, normally I wouldn’t ask you to make exceptions, but we do have a delightful guest with us,” Mrs. Danfront giggled.

“We do?” Revati asked, lowering her gun slightly.

“This is Mister Brigadeiro! And he is fresh blood,” Mrs. Danfront said, gesturing to Brigadeiro, who waved nervously with a small smile.

“Is he married?” Nancyworth asked, and Brigadeiro dropped his hand.

“I’m only seventeen,” he said, sounding faintly startled.

“So not married then, and what are your prospects? Are you a scavenger? A rebel? A psychotic killer?” He asked, and Brigadeiro’s eyes widened with horror.

“No! I just finished school, and next month I will be starting my Botanical genetics degree at the University of Sustainable tourism,” Brigadeiro explained.

Revati, who had only ever attended lessons in her kitchen, rolled her eyes.

“And your parents?” He asked.

“Well, my dad’s a tree splicer, and my mama is a flower surgeon,” Brigadeiro said, still looking faintly confused.

“Well, I suppose it’s better than working in trade! Fine your party may admitted, and your guest will be allowed to propose to any young lady below level three,” he said, allowing them to pass.

The opening foyer of the Pantheon had been carefully painted in shades of baby blue and tan. Vending machines that used to sell drinks had been turned into shelves holding salvaged fine china.

Severe posters of ancient members of both the British Monarchy and the Wadiyar dynasty hung from the walls.

“What’s that old lady holding? Some sort of shoe?” Brigadeiro remarked as he paused in front of a painting of Queen Lilibet the second.

“It’s a dog, a creature that existed before all animals vanished six hundred years ago,” Revati explained with annoyance as she brushed past him.

.

[paper-lilypie]

For the first impression vs impression now (because I can't put it into words):

you think im cool? 🥺

[sugako]

after class

ta!suga x f!reader cw: 18+ mdni, college au, alcohol consumption mention (not during the main plot), dubcon (bc of power imbalance & suga coming on VERY strong), oral (giving), facefucking, public sex (no one sees), teasing (receiving), blink once & u miss it degradation, fingering (receiving), quickie/rough sex, unprotected sex wc: 2.5k+ a/n: here is my wee lit ta suga brainrot ,, boy do i hate academia but wow do i like writing shit in a college setting

It was just a literature class, an enjoyable one at that. Yet, every time you walked through the door, the dull thump of your heart sped up. Hovering nearby, he was almost always there, not that you really minded. Maybe your mind was clouded with romantic thoughts because of the room - it was in the oldest part of campus and it showed with the cozy wooden walls and a stained chalkboard at the front of the room.

The nostalgia encouraged by the soft, warm light that streamed through the windows only made your longing more intense. He looked like you imagined a tricky mythical being to look, all sweet and inviting on the outside while fierce and feral inwardly. About a week into class he revealed his true self when reviewing - or rather tearing into - everyone's essays.

You noticed his eyes first. They way they lingered on you when he stepped in to lecture, flitted around your face and down your body, lit up when he went on a tangent about a theme he particularly enjoyed. Even though your mind sometimes wandered, everything was still outwardly appropriate. You called him by his last name like he asked, he called on you appropriately, answered your emails and graded your papers just like anyone else's.

One mistake-filled Friday night you made the mistake of following your friends to the nearest bar, and there he was. Face flushed with happy tears in his eyes he stood up at the bar with some of his friends. When his eyes fell on you the gears slowly turning in his head were visible.

He rushed over, chest pressed tightly against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you and ushered you up the counter.

“So good to see you!” He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You knew it was wrong, you tried so hard to tell yourself it was wrong, but he wasn’t much older than you and you weren’t in class now so what difference did it make, you reasoned. Besides, he was drunk and you had a drink in you already and he smelled so nice… “...too, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Huh?” You barely heard him over the roar of the crowd around you and the music vibrating off the walls.

“Heh, nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m gonna buy you a shot, you deserve it after that last essay. Very well thought out.” Being overly crisp in his words to achieve some kind of comedic affect you assumed. He leaned slightly into the counter, bringing you with him, and quickly ordered. Within minutes the bartender had placed the clear shots before you. “Okay, sweetheart,” he said, clinking his small glass against yours, sending half of his shot onto the floor.

It burned like always, but you held back your reaction, lips barely pursing as you set the glass back down.

“Thanks,” you started, unraveling yourself from his warm body, “I gotta get back to my friends, but it was nice seeing you.” You said softly, some little part not wanting to leave him.

Suga held you out by your waist and nodded once. “Good to know you can take rough things so well, go on then.” He says with a little push.

His words confusingly haunt you for a moment before you realize he’s talking about the ‘rough’ shot you just took, even if the wording was crude. The rest of the night you agonize over what he meant. “Good to know you can take rough things.” But by next Monday, it’s as if it never happened. He carries on in class like normal and so do you, until a week later.

He’s handing back quiz scores at the end of class, conveniently leaving you until last. The way he sped through lecture today, there’s about ten minutes left and, with no professor around this day to stop him, he dismisses everyone early. Except you.

“Can you actually stay behind a few minutes? I just want to talk about your answers.” When fear flashes across your eyes, he chuckles easily just like he was back at the bar and your heartbeat only speeds up. “Nothing bad, I’m just interested in your answers.” In tense silence, the two of you stand, waiting until the last student has made their way out.

“So which question-”

“Actually, I think there’s a better way for you to improve your score.” He grins devilishly, getting up from his spot beside you to fully close the door. Suddenly the room feels very stuffy and you’re very aware of everything around you. It makes your stomach turn, you’re not sure if it’s in a good way or a bad way, but you weather through and take a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m comfortable with the score I got.”

“I know, I know, you did very well.” He soothes while he makes his way back over just to lean precariously against the very tiny desk attached beside you. “It’s just… I know you try so hard, you pay attention to me more than anyone in this class. I think you deserve extra credit just for that.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” You struggle out, trying to find the words. Brain racing, you have no clue what to make of the situation. It seems like he has everything planned out, scripted, and you’re just blindly following along like a lost, little lamb.

“You know, I notice how you blush and smile sometimes when I lecture, and you take notes just so well while I’m speaking. I mean it’s very cute, don’t get me wrong, but you pay even better attention to me than you do your own professor.” He scoffs.

The way your chest is rising and falling is visible now, you’re sure he can see it through the thin material of your little sundress. “Sorry, you’re just always so excited I guess I get caught up, but umm… are you sure there isn’t another class coming in, I jus-”

“No,” he says sternly, “there’s not another class in this room for hours. But why be worried about something like that?” Suga asks with a small, knowing smile.

“I-I, uh, well I don’t know, I just thought… just making sure I g-guess.” You sputter out, quivering voice betraying yourself.

“What did you think I meant?” He asks evenly, the smile slipping from his features. Like a fish gasping for air, your mouth bobs open and shut, struggling to find the words or maybe a lie, but he doesn’t let you. He closes the tight space between the two of you with a short kiss that you immediately sigh into.

Pleased with your relaxed reaction, he pulls away almost at once, dropping your quiz from his hands onto the floor in between you. Mind spinning, you’ve barely registered the kiss before you’re crouching down to pick up the paper.

“Oh, thank you. You’re so kind.” He says plainly, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“No problem,” you begin while you start to rise, only to be stopped by his tightening grip on you.

“Sorry, you just look so pretty down there.” He coos, taking his hand away when you relax onto your knees and place the papers back down. You don’t know what to think, especially with his noticeable bulge so directly within eyesight. You want to be here, you can’t stop thinking about how his lips felt in that brief moment or what lies beneath his pants, but you can’t help feeling a little guilty. The sound of a zipper snaps you back to the reality where you’re on your knees in front of your TA.

“I, um…”

“You can do whatever you want right now, sweetheart.” The nickname he gave you at the bar makes heat surge through your veins. “But I want you to know if you chose to stay here and to touch me, I’m not gonna hold back, mmkay?”

Taking a deep, swallowing breath you nod quickly, fingers grappling at the pale blue waistband of his boxer briefs. “I understand,” you whisper out, “I want you.”

“Okay, princess, don’t say I didn’t-” His big talk is cut off when you mouth over him through the soft fabric, licking over the tiny wet stain he’s produced. “Oh,” he chuckles meanly, “so hungry for my cock, huh?”

Nodding deftly, you tug down on the waistband, letting his length slap against his clothed abdomen. He’s pretty, neatly trimmed, and pale but with a pretty, pink tip that makes you clench around nothing. The way his thighs are tensed under his slacks, you know he’s holding back, and you don’t want to make him wait any longer.

At a careful pace, you take him into your hand, pumping gently while you guide him into your mouth. When the salty taste of his precum hits your tongue he snaps. His hands bury into the back of your neck, holding you exactly in place when he shallowly pumps himself into you. Painfully, you relax your jaw, letting him use you while big tears well up in the corners of your eyes from the sting.

Over and over again his cock hits the back of your throat, gliding past the mess of spit that’s built up in your mouth. He feels so right, so good and all you can think about is him. Your nails dig into his legs, trying to find some purchase in the smooth material of his pants.

He watches as you keep your eyes trained up on him, admiring the spit already spattered across your cheeks. “So messy, sweetheart, you’re adorable.” He says just loud enough for you to hear over his unrelenting pace.

It’s hard to understand him with how hard you’re focusing on sucking in his cock while he fucks into you. “Always knew your pretty mouth was good for more than answering stupid questions.” Suga grunts, shuddering when your throat spasms around him, and swiftly pulling out.

Panting for a bit of air, you heave on the floor, upper half only held up by the loose grip you have on his thighs. Before you can catch your breath, he’s dragging you back onto your feet and facing your body away from his. A heavy hand forces your chest down against the tiny desk before you and his feet kick yours apart.

“Wore this cute, little dress for me?” He asks, flipping up the skirt and palming over your ass.

“N-no, I had a, uh, presentation today.” You try to say, the lie evident with how heavy the words weigh on your tongue.

“Oh, shut up,” he laughs, “I know this is the only class you have today, you told me that weeks ago.” He hums, fingers toying with the edge of your underwear, moving them around across your skin this way and that until he finally pulls them down. “And you wore these slutty panties just for me too. Probably thought about touching yourself after class while you thought about me instead. Isn’t this much better though?”

“Yeah, a lot better.” You squeak as his fingers force your thighs farther apart, meeting you aching cunt just to spread your slick around.

“Your panties are ruined, completely soaked. Must have been thinking about me all class I bet.”

“N-no,” but before you can argue he presses two fingers into you, scissoring them inside of you.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He replies and you can hear the eye roll in his tone. Again, his free hand presses between your shoulder blades, squishing you harshly against the desk. With a little sigh, he takes his fingers away from you and uses both hands to perfectly position your hips for himself. “Ready, sweetheart?” He asks sweetly, pressing his tip against your entrance.

“Yes, please, please fuck me!” You cry, finally crumbling before him and burning with need.

He’s so close now you can feel him, the want that’s built up in your brain over the last couple months is nearly unbearable now. You feel his fingers curl into the flesh around your hips just before he eagerly sinks into you. Involuntarily, you let out a shaky gasp, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from crying out.

“Relax for me princess,” he grunts, partially enjoying how tightly you’re clamped around him, “this isn’t an exam.”

It’s impossible to think of a witty retort or even a weak one while you shake around his cock, desperate for him to fill you up. On their own accord, you hips twitch back trying to meet him fully, but he only laughs and keeps you in place.

“I was gonna go easy on you, but since you seem to want me so bad…” he trailed off, slowly dragging himself out, the weight of his cock heavy against your gummy walls, “...you can have me.” His final word is punctuated by a harsh snap of his hips that fills you to the brim.

All you can muster is a broken, little whimper as his thighs continually smack against your backside while he fucks you into the desk. Any regard or concern you had for the world of students or staff outside the thin walls of this room was gone and it appeared his was as well. The wet squelching smacks of your bodies meeting bounced around the walls, the thin carpet failing to dampen much of any noise at all.

Through all of your spasms and twitches his pace was unrelenting. “Go ahead and touch yourself,” he said when he noticed the way your fingers danced around, obviously preoccupied, “wanna feel your pretty, little cunt cum.”

Managing out a little sound of agreement, you quickly wedge your wrist under your body, trying your best to circle your needy clit while he’s ramming you back and forth. It doesn’t take long before your sobbing out, hips rutting against his, feeling the coil deep inside draw you closer and closer to the edge. You keep your fingers in time with his motions, making quick work of your own pleasure, not holding back when you feel the last bit of resistance before your fall.

With a short, choked cry you’re gushing around him, convulsing around his cock while he slows just enough, his own thrusts getting suddenly out of time.

“Good girl.” He groans, a brief surge of pride and energy pushing him to his own finish line, the way you’re still periodically clamping down around him certainly being of some help. “I’m gonna ruin this perfect pussy.” He barely manages to mumble out before he’s holding you deep and close, his cock twitching deep inside of you just before his cum shoots against your walls.

“Feel so good.” You sigh, fully relaxing into his touch, the sleepy haze of your orgasm overtaking your senses. As he comes down from his high, he massages your shoulders, slumping over your own exhausted body and wrapping his arms around your middle. You don’t miss how his fingers cradle just under your breasts, kneading lightly.

“I think,” he starts, still very much out of breath, “we’ll need a couple tutoring sessions, just to clear up everything.”

[fallenrepublick]

I just came back from an appointment. I live in a town but the appointment was in a big city so we drove through lots of other small towns, many pretty neighborhoods with lots of trees all around the street... *dreamy sigh* it was beautiful. If only I could pay for such a beautiful home😫 However, I was nervous so I had my comfort characters in the back of my mind as I looked out of the window and now I just have to share a thought with you. I feel like Feral would love to just go through some neighborhoods, discovering secret passages and places far away from other people. And then I thought about how he grew up in a rather colorless and depressing place as a slave. Just imagine him being a happy puppy. Or if you live in an apartment and he sleeps there, he’ll totally look out of the window before you fall asleep and when you wake up. Just Feral finally being free and getting to discover all these wonderful places in the galaxy

I imagine this too!! I always see him in a sort of cottage, in the middle of a tiny bit of woods, hidden away from sight, yet close enough to the nearest town that he can still go out easily and shop with you. And the place is filled with plants and warm-toned furniture made of unpainted wood, a lot of which he learned to make himself, and you've got a surplus of blankets stored away that you can pile on each other at night. And you've got herbs hanging from the kitchen ceiling and dried citrus right beside them that you can smell when you come in the room, and the cabinets creak a little when you open them and there's a spot on the floor that's still a little rough from the homes of bugs that used to live in the tree it was made from. And you keep the curtains open during the daytime to let the sunlight in, filtered by the leaves hanging over from the trees out the window, and it draws little patterns on his face when he stands next to the glass, and you get to see just how light his eyes really are when the light hits the iris just right.

But come to think of it... now that you mention apartments, he might be inclined to live in one because of how different it is from his old life. A small place, situated in the heart of a city, so many people around him, so many families and individuals with their own lives and experiences, he's so awestruck when he goes out, as most of the people are ones he's never seen before. And he still makes it so cosy, cream coloured furniture paired with blues and blacks, plush couches and patterned rugs he found in an outdoor marketplace. He pushes your bed up against the wall, right next to the window. He likes to see the lights at night, the way they come on and off in buildings across the street, the shadows and shapes of everyone else in the small bright squares as they go about their business, oblivious to their audience who can only imagine what goes on in their heads. And he likes the sounds of cars and speeders going by on the streets below, everyone rushing to where they need to be at such a late hour, some in excitement, others anxiety. He likes the sound of voices and people talking, and this remains true through the day, when he wakes up to the sound of people in the halls hurrying to work.

I think with Feral, he's got this incredible ability to make everywhere home, you know? Wherever he ends up, he can make comfortable, he can create a space that you look forward to returning to at the end of the day.

[imagines-mha]

I CANT BELIEVE UR INTO HETALIA OMG? ESP THE NORDICS BC WOW I LOVE THEM TOO!!! pls........ any hcs on them if ever 🥺

O m g hi i’ve been sAVING THIS ONE!!! I LOVE the nordics im so glad you do too 🥺🥺 i hope u enjoy these my love 💖💖💖💖💖

〰️💗 Nordic 5 headcanons 💗〰️

💛 Sweden is the most chaotic dad istg but he has the BEST sense of humor

💛 Like you would never believe he would be the one to make you laugh most but the shit he comes off with sends you into fits of giggles til your ribs get sore

💙 Finland bakes way too much for his own good. The kitchen is “his domain” and he’ll go feral if anyone else tells him how to cook

💙 He’s also always offering tea to people?? Just let him spoil you when you come over he’ll bask in it

💜 Norway always answers the door first, like always. You dk how he does it but the moment you knock it’s swung open to reveal him just standing there like a fuckin model

💜 He’s highkey quiet in the house like he’ll read and tell Denmark to shut up but other than that he keeps himself to himself

💜 He’s kinda like snufkin from Moominvalley

🤍 Iceland has the most crackhead energy idc

🤍 He’s all socially awkward in public but behind closed doors that boy is FERAL. He hates Sealand

❤️ Denmark expects hugs from you the moment you enter the house and the moment you leave the house like damn this boy is so affectionate and it’s adorable

❤️ He can also talk for DAYS like expect to hear about his day and his work and his lego and what Sweden did today and he tells stories in such a fascinating way that keeps you so hooked

💗 Denmark has a bad habit of trying to cook alongside Finland. No malice he just wants to help him asdfghjkl but he comes off cocky asf and Finland gets MAD

💗 Finland does not like having help in the kitchen. This usually results in him scolding Denmark, Denmark starting a food fight, and a very very messy kitchen

💗 Once he, Finland, Norway, and Iceland were in the midst of chucking flour at each other and Iceland accidentally got a tiny bit on Swedens cheek. Sweden proceeded to lift the entire bag of flour and just dump it ALL on Iceland’s head, completely deadpan

💗 From that day no one EVER threw flour again 😔😔

💛 Other than that Sweden is a treasure

💛 He sits in his armchair and watches antique roadshow like an old man, and sometimes he forgets where his glasses are even when they’re on his head but we love him for it anyways

❤️ Denmark is generally a beaming ray of light, but sometimes he’s a lil troublemaker

❤️ He asks for a different pet every single week and NEVER gets one he’s like a child

❤️ Also, he needs his days of rest lmao like ya he’s a perfect bouncy happy baby but he needs his restoration days as much as the rest of us. Likes to lie in bed for a while to have some alone time and then he’s all ready to go again

💜 Norway does a lot of witchcraft in his spare time. Sweden gets confused when he wakes up to find 356 crystals charging out in the garden but you cannot question Norway cus this man will NEVER give you a direct answer

💜 He’s a sassy fucker too, and the mediator of any fights that occur surprisingly

🤍 Iceland watches peppa pig.

🤍 He once tackled sealand to the ground cus he took the last slice of bread for his toast. True story.

💙 Finland is constantly bringing guests over for dinner bc he has so many friends?? Then does a big marie kondo clean once a week??

💙 But he’s such a mom to sealand and it’s the cutest thing in the entire world.

💗Overall they’re chaotic as fuck but the cutest family in Hetalia fite me on it

[secretsantasides]

Gift #14: Colorblind

Gift for @forestwulf​

Prompt: Intrulogical Soulmate AU.

        Logan massaged his temples as the nightclub music pounded in his ears, “I don’t know why you insist on coming here.”

        “It’s twinks drink free night,” Patton said, sipping his appletini.

        “You stopped being a twink ten years ago,” Logan muttered.

        Patton sighed, “I’m going to ignore that because you’re my brother and I love you. Speaking of love-”

        “Don’t,” Logan said. “Not this again.”

        “Listen to me,” Patton said. “I’m worried about you, Logan. I know you’re a little robot and you don’t need romance in your life or any friends but-”

        “I have friends,” Logan said.

        “But,” Patton said. “You’re thirty years old and it’s starting to make mom sad on the holidays. When I met Ethan, it wasn’t sitting around at home and moping. I mean how long has it been since you were touched by another human being?”

        “Soulmates,” Logan sighed. “Don’t start, Pat. I’ll gouge my eye out with this tiny umbrella.”

         Patton rolled his eyes, “Logan it’s not just nonsense; it’s science! Just because you think you’re some kind of lone wolf doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. Your eyes wouldn’t be grey if you weren’t still waiting for your person. So you can deny it all you want. It won’t change the fact that they’re waiting.”

         “I don’t have time for a soulmate, Pat. You and Ethan just work better; you have time to be in love and he’s patient enough to deal with… you.”

         Patton faked an offended gasp, “Just for that I’m not getting you a free drink next round! But you’re right, Ethan is perfect. However-”

         “There is no however.”

         ”However,” Patton continued. “It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there who’s just as patient with your bullshit as Ethan is with mine. Now look you made me swear. I hope you’re happy.”

         “I think the three appletinis made you swear,” Logan said. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

         “Actually I’m going out of town in two days with the girls so they gave me time off.”

         “Out of town? That’s this week?” Logan asked.

         Patton finished his drink, “I love how much you listen when I talk. The pandas are being moved to the zoo in Atlanta so their enclosure can be remodeled and we’re hoping to get some breeding done while we’re out there. That’s why I told you that you have to take mom to the optometrist on Monday. If you forget that, Logan-”

         “Right right,” Logan said. “No I’ll remember it’s… it’s in my phone.” He looked at his empty glass of whiskey but pushed it aside, deciding he’d better stay sober, “So what’s Ethan thinking about this longterm separation?”

         Patton snorted, “One of his retics laid a ton of eggs and she bit his face when he was pulling the clutch. Now he’s walking around like Crocodile Dundee. Plus the whole clutch is viable so we’re looking at a lot of new snakes to add to the national program. He’s in talks with a zoo in Taiwan too about some bloodline trades. It’s really annoying sometimes. He gets dozens of babies a season and I’m lucky if I’ll see more than two or three in my career.”

         “Well you chose the pandas,” Logan said.

         “I’ll have you know the pandas chose me,” Patton said. “You want another drink?”

         “Nah, I’ll drive you home,” Logan said. “Go flirt with the bartender and see if he’ll pretend to think you’re young some more.”

         Patton laughed as he slid out of his seat, walking over to the bar. On the dancefloor Logan saw a small group of students, a few of which he recognized—one in particular a large pain in his ass. Remus Prince, Quarterback of the university football team and well-known idiot. Logan wished Remus was the typical jock idiot, uncaring and arrogant, one he could easily fail without a second thought, but Remus was bound and determined to make up for his own shortcomings with hard work and extra credit. It meant that half of Logan’s office hours were spent patiently explaining things to Remus again and again, and accepting an outlandish amount of extra credit work.

         And—even more annoyingly—through it all Remus was cheerful, friendly and actually interested in what Logan had to say. Worse still, Remus was a senior, only four years younger than Logan who was the baby of the science department and didn’t he just hate that little nickname? Remus was like a peer, but worse, a jock, the kind of person that would have made Logan’s life miserable if they’d ever walked the same halls together as students. The revelation that Remus was gay was… interesting? No, not interesting. He’s a student and you don’t care. Logan rubbed his eyes and sighed, jumping when Patton returned with two appletinis. He sat down and stared at his brother matter-of-factly, “Guess how much these cost me?”

         Logan raised an eyebrow and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, “How are we related?”

          Patton was a lot heavier than he looked when he needed to be carried, and Logan struggled up the stairs to the door of the apartment, knocking on the door. It was a cute place, all brick and right on the street, divided in half horizontally to make a duplex, but it was roomy and it was nice for two people on zookeeper salary; it was inexpensive—for Florida. Ethan opened the door and Logan gasped, “Ethan, your face!”

         Ethan did smile, and there was more than a little pride in it, “Don’t worry. She hit above and below my eye but the doc said to keep a full dressing on it at night so I don’t rub anything off. He cool?”

         “Vodka drunk,” Logan said, hauling Patton inside and laying him on the couch. “Not too bad but I told him I’d stay sober and I think he needed to drink off some stress.”

         “The move, yeah,” Ethan said, following Logan back to the door. “And my face. He’s not really loving how many times I take the bandage off to show people but it’s my first big tag! You wanna see the pictures from the ER?”

         “Gosh I’d love to but I have class in the morning so-”

         “Ethan!” Patton called from the livingroom, “Come sex me up, Mr. Snake Whisperer!”

         “Good luck with that,” Logan said. “Tell him to call me when he’s less obnoxious.”

         “Will do,” Ethan said. “Bye Logan.”

         Logan snorted when Patton called again and started down the stairs, “Good luck!”

                   Logan looked at himself in the mirror after taking out his contacts and smiled at his grey eyes; grey was distinguished, and he didn’t mind having a constant reminder—for himself and others—that he was beyond all of this soulmate nonsense. He was a lone wolf, just like Patton said, and his true love was forensic anthropology—or biology, as he was currently teaching. His application was top in line for the anthropology department, however, and he had consulted a time or two on actual cases. So, despite Patton’s—and his mother’s—insistence that his life was somehow incomplete, Logan couldn’t be happier. He turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed, thinking back over his tasks for the day, all of which he’d completed before he ever set foot inside the gay bar with his brother. It was the same way he lulled himself to sleep every night, assured of all of his accomplishments, large and small, and how every day was a blank slate.

         Sleep came quick for him, thanks to the single glass of whiskey and the exhaustion of dealing with his drunk brother—and his sober brother-in-law. His dreams were blurry and immemorable until suddenly his vision was filled with green. There were calloused hands on his skin, warm lips on his cheek and breath in his ear, and he was held against a solid body with a grip that was surprisingly strong. He closed his eyes and still all he could see was green.

         Logan gasped and sat up, checking the clock and scowling; it was still the middle of the night and he was baffled by the strange dream and irredeemably hard. He sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, heading back into the bathroom and turning the shower to cold, stripping off his pajamas. Who the hell did he know that was associated with green, anyway? He didn’t even like the color green, his favorite color was indigo, far from the blinding lime he’d been accosted with in his dream. Any thoughts of the dream went screaming from his mind when he stepped into the water; his chest tightened and he exhaled involuntarily, “F-fuck!”

He tightened his hands into fists and endured the water, somehow preferring cold-induced heart palpitations to ward off an unwanted erection than perhaps the more obvious—and less miserable—solution. It was easier to be stubborn and miserable than to admit—and revel in—the fact that something had gotten him going, and that it had to be the dream. Whiskey wasn’t exactly known for facilitating physical arousal, and he’d barely had enough to taste in the first place.

                           “Morning!” Remus announced as he knocked on the open office door.

         “Good morning,” Logan said, “Come in, Mr. Prince.” He cleared away the end of his desk where Remus usually worked and stacked up the papers elsewhere. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

         Remus laughed, his cheeks a bit pink; Logan wondered if he was getting a cold—and how much that would panic the other professors about the state of the football team. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Well I have the three essays to turn in, and I did the makeup dissection test with Professor Picane’s Zoological Anatomy class… the uh… feral pig?”

         “Fetal pig,” Logan said, putting his coffee cup aside. “He sent your scores up to me. Good work. You got everything right except for the microscope work. We’re still struggling with cellular identification. I spoke with Emile and he said you actually seemed to have issues where things were similarly colored, so I took the liberty of emailing you some color-blind tests. I’m also inviting you to come in during my freshman course tomorrow. I use different dyes in my slides and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

         “Great!” Remus said. “You really go above and beyond to help me, Professor Heart. I um… well, thank you so much.”

         Logan crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, “You know, Remus, I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I think you’ve been pushed through classes due to your athletic prowess—to your detriment. I really want to help you understand that you’re not lacking in intelligence, you understand. You’ve got the answers, we’ve just had to learn how to get to them, right?”

         “Right,” Remus said, ducking his head shyly. “You’re always right.”

         “Now, with these three essays and with you making up the microscope work tomorrow, there’s no need for anymore extra credit work. You’ve got this, Mr. Prince. All you have to do is attend all of the lectures and you’ll be on track for a strong grade in this class. Do you feel like you need any more help?”

         Remus hesitated, “I  mean… you’ve done so much. I know you’ve basically changed my life, and how I feel about science—school in general! I um… I guess if I need anything I’ll just schedule a day before finals. If you think I can do it, I think I can do it.”

         Logan smiled, “Very good, Remus. You’ve got this.”

         Remus set the three essays down on the empty part of the desk and looked over them, “I can’t believe this is it, you know? I’m going to graduate in less than a month.”

         “Another year on the books,” Logan said. “Wait until you’re my age.”

         “You’re not old,” Remus said. “You’re still in your twenties too. Oh!” He picked up his backpack and dug through it, pulling out a small cardboard box. He set it on the desk. “I know your real interest is anthropology, like the cop kind, and I um… well, my dad works in the big museum uptown. They got a few of these and they gave my dad two of them.”

         Logan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow as he took out a human skull, obviously prepared and preserved professionally. “This is a nicely intact specimen. You’re certain this is alright?”

         “Yeah my dad said he’d rather it go to somebody who wants it than just gather dust in our basement or the museum’s basement. Oh they said it had uh… crouton disease?”

         “Crouzon Disease,” Logan said, standing up. “Hyperostosis Frontalis Interna, very interesting. Thank you Remus this is incredibly thoughtful.”

         Remus watched Logan put the skull in a central place on his shelf of books and specimens; it looked good, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention to the skull, especially when Logan turned and gave him a smile, extending his hand. Remus jumped up and shook it eagerly, “Thank you again, professor. You’re my hero. You’re especially my parents’ hero.”

         Logan chuckled, and the touch was mildly electric, probably static, but it made Logan shiver, “You’re the hero, Mr. Prince. Remember that, hard work got you this far, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

         Remus nodded, slowly releasing Logan’s hand and stepping back to grab his backpack. “Well, see you in class tomorrow! Eight, right?”

         “Right,” Logan said. “And don’t forget the possibility of a pop quiz tomorrow in your actual class.”

         “Possibility,” Remus chuckled. “Good one, Professor Heart. See you then.”

         Logan watched him go and sighed, turning to admire the skull, a warmth blooming in his chest he’d never really felt before. It really was a nice skull, he supposed.

          Logan drove home with that feeling intact, almost floating into the elevator and riding it up to his floor. After making it down the hallway, and the obligatory avoidance of his neighbor’s eyes, he stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He felt bone-deep exhausted—probably from the dream-cursed night before—and he went straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts. Once his contacts were safely back in their saline baths, he brushed his teeth, grabbing his glasses off of the vanity and putting them on. He admired his eyes—his green eyes. Logan gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, opening them again, still green. He took off his glasses, and his reflection was blurry, but clearly green eyes stared back at him. The warmth in his chest suddenly became a sharp icicle, and he realized. Green, Remus Prince. “Fuck!” Logan shouted, turning off the light and rushing out to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing his brother.

         The phone rang several times, and went to voicemail; Logan swore again and dialed the home phone, “Come on Pat come on.”

         “Hey Logan! What’s up?”

         “Ethan? Oh, is Pat… oh shit.”

         “Alabama,” Ethan said. “Yeah. You ok?”

         “No, not at all… oh god. Can we talk? Like do you have time?” Logan stood up, pacing around the bed. “I have… an awkward situation.”

         “You? I don’t believe it.”

         Logan sighed and Ethan laughed, “I’d like to be serious with you for a moment.”

         “Of course,” Ethan said. “Go ahead.”

         “When you realized you were Patton’s soulmate, was there a feeling?”

         “Hm,” Ethan said. “Actually, yes. I thought I had heartburn, actually. Just like this warmth in my chest? It sounds a bit stereotypical but yeah. I felt warm. That night when I was washing my face I realized my eyes had changed. You doing a study?”

         “Um… no,” Logan admitted. “My eyes are green.”

         “Oh! Oh my god! Did you tell your mom?”

         “Please, Ethan. I have only told you.”

         “Do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “Any clue?”

         “One of my students,” Logan said. “The… football player.”

         “Oh yeah I remember Patton mentioning him, the stupid one right?”

         Logan bristled, “He isn’t stupid. He’s…” He sighed, rubbing his temple, “Well, thank you Ethan. You’ve answered my question.”

         “Text Pat,” Ethan said. “He’ll lose his shit.”

         “Goodnight, Ethan,” Logan said.

         Logan hung up and set his phone on the nightstand before undressing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and climbing into bed. He turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket over his head, willing himself to sink into the earth.

          The following morning’s class was a blur of barely-controlled panic and dread, but luckily Remus barely even spared him a glance, intent on taking and passing his cellular identification exam. Logan pretended to grade papers when Remus came up to his desk, and his heart surged like it had, warming to Remus like a rock in the sun, “See you in class.”

         Logan gave a noncommittal sound, and Remus left the classroom, allowing Logan to finally breathe. Ignoring this wasn’t going to be easy, and Logan was already getting frantic texts from his brother demanding an explanation. Logan briefly wondered how hard it would be to vanish without changing universities. The worst part, without question, was how badly he wanted Remus to touch him, even just a brush of his hand. His body was like a magnet and his hands were shaking even though their closeness had been brief. At least his upcoming class was taking a pop quiz, and they were to clear out as soon as answers were submitted.  

          Logan remained more or less glued to the desk during the hour between classes, grading the microscope work—Remus hadn’t missed a single slide, so Picane’s catch on the colorblindness had been spot on. Logan had felt a stab of jealousy, absurd as it was, that he hadn’t realized it sooner, first, because Remus was his soulmate—his.

         “Mine,” Logan muttered to himself, then his face heated up when he realized what he’d said, and he looked down to realize he’d written it on Remus’ exam answers. Quickly scratching it out he pushed the test aside and lowered his face to the desk. “What a nightmare.”

         “What’s a nightmare, Mr. Heart?”

         Logan looked up to see his first student sliding into her desk, and he forced a chuckle, “The state of the economy in nineteenth century Luxembourg.” He stood up and began writing on the board.

         “Will that be on the final?” another student asked. The classroom had started filling up.

         “Not unless I’ve ever written it on this board,” Logan said. “We start final prep next week, don’t forget.”

         He finished filling out the board as the rest of his students filed in, and once his watch beeped cheerily that class had started, he heard a voice pick up behind him, the same girl from before, “Is that your favorite tie, Mr. Heart? You wear it a lot.”

         “It’s my favorite color,” Logan said without turning around. “As charming as the distraction is, I haven’t forgotten the pop quiz.” He turned around and Remus was staring at him, mouth open in shock. On either side of him, his linebacker buddies were looking at one another, and Logan realized his mistake in revealing his favorite color—because he knew better than anyone what color Remus’ eyes must be now. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses, “Alright, please take out a clean sheet of paper and answer the questions I’ve written on the board. When you’re finished please leave them up here and you may go.”

         Logan sat at his desk and pretended to be working, jumping when the first student turned in their quiz, but calmed and kept his eyes down as the steady stream of quizzes landed on his desk. He was starting to feel safe when most of his students had gone, and he made the mistake of looking up when a loud pair of sneakers stopped at his desk. The room was empty, and Remus Prince was standing at his desk, quiz in his hand. He set it down with the others and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your eyes are green. I never noticed.”

         Logan paled and stared up at Remus, “I um… it’s recent.”

         Remus nodded, “Me too, indigo, right? It’s a weird blue for eyes. My brother said they look like Liz Taylor whoever that is.”

         Logan let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the paper he’d been doodling on only to realize he’d been writing the word mine over and over, “Yeah. She had um… dark eyes. So I suppose you’ve met your soulmate then, congratulations, Mr. Prince.”

         Remus looked around and then back at Logan, “You’re going to pretend it isn’t you?”

         Logan was feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, but at the same time heat was playing in his chest. He pushed his chair back and stood up, tensing when Remus reached to grab his wrist, “I’m not-” Logan tried to pull away but Remus shook his head, “I’m not pretending anything I… damn it. Damn it I’m afraid, ok? You’re a student!”

         “Not for long! Like two weeks from now I’m taking the final, and unless I stop showing up entirely, there’s no way I’m failing. I did the math which I know will impress you because I’m such an idiot.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, then sighed. “Remus… is this even something you want? A relationship dictated by some… some system we don’t even understand? By colors and chance and… what, fate? You want to let the universe stick you with someone… someone like me?”

         Remus laughed and released Logan, covering his face with his hands, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You really don’t.”

         Logan wrapped his arms around himself, blushing and adjusting his glasses, “Don’t get what?”

         “I have wanted you since before I started in this class!” Remus said. “My brother, the attention whore? He had me come here last semester to pick up a paper for him, remember? If it was just fate shoving us together it would have happened then… but it didn’t. I thought you were hot, so I signed up for your class because I figured I’d cheat my way through and have a hot prof to stare at right?”

         “Hot?”

         “Just let me finish,” Remus said. “When I came in here and sat down at that desk and I listened to you read the syllabus… and all of your weird bone jokes and that thing about the swamp mummy?”

         “Bog bodies, the Tollund Man, yes,” Logan said. “You remember that?”

         “Yeah because you cared, like you actually cared about it. You’re not just here because you couldn’t get a career and you’re not just here to waste time. You really care about what you’re teaching us, and I know you’re trying to switch departments but whatever, you know what I mean… there’s a lot of passion there and it made me give a shit. It took me forty-five minutes to fall in love with your stupid class, and maybe two or three classes to fall in love with you… but still it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t happen until you fell in love with me.”

         Logan was silent as he stared at Remus, his mouth hanging open; he took a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Jesus.”

         “Well? Am I right?” Remus said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s the mustache right? My friends told me that’s the reason you didn’t tell me. Because you hate it. I don’t even care. I’ll shave it off, ok? I don’t care if it’s good luck I-”

         Logan crossed the short distance between them and kissed Remus, cutting him off. Remus grabbed Logan’s collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Logan’s mind spun, and his knees went weak. Remus had no trouble holding him up, and when they finally broke the kiss, Logan smiled sheepishly. “I don’t hate the mustache, as much as I wish I did. I really don’t.”

         Remus buried his face against Logan’s shoulder and laughed, “Great because I really need to keep it if I’m going to get drafted. Three of the NFL scouts commented on it.”

         “Yes I’m sure you’ll bring back the seventies mustache. Your parents will be ecstatic.”

         “Yeah… so um… are we dating?”

         “No,” Logan said, then off Remus’ look he hurried to elaborate. “Not until you pass this class of your own merit. Like you said, it’s no big deal and then, the second your final grade is logged in the university database… we can date.”

         Remus smiled, smoothing down Logan’s shirt as he stepped back, “Right, cool um… hey I should probably go then, right? Got studying to do. Bye teach.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, sinking back down into his seat once Remus was gone.

         It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

[regolithheart]

Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter One

Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?

MASTER LIST

Read on AO3.

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

CHAPTER ONE:

Nesta Archeron tapped her pen against her notebook wondering how much longer her conference call was going to last.

“Okay, team. Sounds great. Hopefully this thing will end soon and our lives can get back to normal. We’re eager to break ground,” a voice crackled through the line. “Send us the package when you’re done.”

“Will do. Thanks everyone.” Nesta clicked off the call before anyone else had the chance to respond. She could see her friend and desk neighbor shaking her head. 

“You really have a way with words,” Amren said, playing with the heavy ruby earrings dangling from her earlobes. 

“I hate conference calls.” 

“And here I thought you were just eager to get on the road.” Amren’s smile was feline. 

“Don’t remind me. I’m thinking about calling Feyre and cancelling. I’d much rather stay in my own home, get my work done, and avoid having to talk to a single soul for two weeks.” Nesta began shoveling the contents of her desk into her work bag. “At least then something good will come out of this pandemic.”

“Don’t put me down as your emergency contact when they find your body a month later, half-eaten by feral cats.”

Nesta leveled her grey eyes at Amren. As if she’d ever put anyone down as her emergency contact. She was the type of person who didn’t believe in emergency contacts and was offended that Amren thought otherwise.

“Besides,” the tiny woman said, flipping her jet black hair. “You make it sound like you’re being shipped off to Siberia. I would kill to be quarantined in a house on Lake Velaris.” 

“You’re more than welcome to come. I’m sure there is plenty of room.”

Amren eyed her friend and smirked. “Tempting, but I need to go home and take care of Varian.” She held up her cell phone. “Some idiot assaulted him when he was trying to help an old lady at the grocery store.  Can you believe these people?”

Nesta knew exactly what people were capable of and the fact that everyone was running around with no reins on their stupidity in a time of panic did not come as a surprise to her. 

“Is he okay?”

A wicked smile spread on Amren’s face and her eyes gleamed silver. “Oh he’s okay. He’s just using this as an excuse to get me to dress up as a nurse.”

“Okay, goodbye!” Nesta shoved her laptop into her bag and heard Amren cackling behind her as she walked through their nearly empty office.

As she strode past the glass cube that was her principal’s office, she nodded her head to indicate she was leaving, but he waved her over. 

Devlon Cerny was still waving her over while he nodded his head into his phone, “Right, right, right.” 

Nesta suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She leaned against the door, another glass panel, waiting for his call to end.

“Well listen, we’ve been through this with our China and Southeast Asia offices months ago. I’d like to think we’re better prepared in this situation than most architecture firms.” Devlon nodded again. 

Nesta glanced at her phone, wondering how much longer he was going to make her wait.

“Yep, we’ll continue to coordinate with the consultants. Thanks, Tamlin.” He finally turned his eyes onto her. “How’d the Carver call go?”

“What, don’t you trust me?”

Devlon gave her a pointed look. “Of course, I do. I still want to know how it went. I’m in charge of ops for this office, aren’t I?” 

Nesta relented. “Business as usual. They signed off on the master planning package and we’re full steam ahead on block F. Whose available on the viz team for renderings?”

“VR?”

Nesta shook her head. “We’re focusing on the commercial tower right now. A couple of exterior shots and some lobby and amenities spaces.”

Devlon thought about it. “I’ll let you know.”

Typical.

“Anyone but Eris.”

Devlon snorted. “I’ll let you know.” She knew he hated when she gave him orders. “You headed out now?”

She nodded. “Unless you need me to stay.”

Devlon shooed her away with his hand. “Go see the sisters. And stay safe out there.”

Nesta made sure he saw her rolling her eyes this time. “Anyone but Eris,” she reminded him before turning around to leave. She heard him half-scoff and half-laugh as she retreated. 

She flipped her phone back and forth between her hands as she waited for the elevator to take her to the parking garage. It would be so easy to send a text to her sisters, telling them that she changed her mind—that she wouldn’t be joining them on their isolation at the lake. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand hearing the hurt and disappointment in their voices when they’d inevitably call her, demanding a reason. It didn’t matter that they’d be with their respective boyfriends and Nesta would be left to talk to Feyre’s boyfriend’s cousin who barely hid her disdain. Or one of the family friends, the one who barely said a single word, or the other one, who—

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open, distracting Nesta from her thoughts.

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

Nesta stood in front of her bed, trying to decide between the two sweaters in each hand while her sister, Elain, kept her company on the phone.

“How much clothes are you bringing?” 

Elain hummed, her voice on speaker. “Between the two of us, I think we have four suitcases.”

“Four?!” Nesta thought that was absurd. 

“Well… we don’t know how long this thing will last, do we?” 

Nesta could just imagine Elain crossing her arms defensively.

“I’m sure there will be a washing machine.” She folded the grey sweater and tucked it neatly into her suitcase. 

“Yes, but…you’ll need a couple of bathing suits and some nice dresses…”

“Elain, we’re going to be in quarantine, not throwing dinner parties. And who is swimming in the lake in March?”

“I think Feyre said there was a heated pool…or was it a jacuzzi? And you don’t have to be so…practical all the time. What’s wrong with wanting to dress up every now and then?”

Nesta snorted. There was no one she needed to dress up for in that particular group—not that she believed in dressing for anyone but herself. 

“And how many grey sweaters are you bringing?” 

Nesta looked down at her suitcase and threw a glare at her phone.

Elain’s voice was much more cheerful after Nesta’s silence. “Nes, promise me you’ll bring at least one bathing suit, one nice dress…oh! And some work-out clothes. Feyre says there is a gym. I need you to show me your arms routine.”

Nesta sighed, “Elain, you do realize that I’m going to be working most of the time, right? This is not going to be a vacation for me. Maybe I should just—“

“Don’t you dare think you can worm yourself out of this, Nesta. You’ve already promised Feyre and me and what do we say?”

“An Archeron never breaks her promise.”

“That’s right!”

Nesta sighed again. 

Feyre had come up with the brilliant idea three days prior. Her boyfriend, no, fiancé owned a house on Lake Velaris and with the pandemic racing it’s way across the globe and people beginning to self-quarantine, it was only a matter of time before it was a mandate and not a request. 

And Feyre, always making lemonade out of lemons, decided that if they were all going to be quarantined somewhere, it might as well be together and on a beautiful lake. The phone calls were made, plane tickets were booked, and arrangements were set.

Nesta had flat out refused when Feyre had called her sisters from France. 

“But we’ll be together,” Elain had said. 

“With five other strangers.”

“They’re not strangers.” Feyre had said through a sigh. “You’ve met them all, numerous times. I’m marrying Rhys! They’re going to be my family…and yours.”

Probably sensing Nesta’s anger building, Elain had pivoted the conversation. “Nes, Feyre’s flying home to be with us. We haven’t see her in three months.”

“She was the one who decided she wanted to live in France for a year.”

“For art school!” Feyre’s voice had gotten high-pitched.

Ever the diplomat, and referee between Nesta and Feyre, Elain spoke gently. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that we should be together.”

“Fine,” Nesta had finally relented. 

If she was going to be cooped up in a house with seven other people, it might as well be a big house where she could hide if need be, and knowing Rhys, the house was going to be huge.

“What time is Feyre’s flight?” Nesta asked as she dumped the contents of her suitcase out on her bed to reassess, given Elain’s new parameters. 

“Not for a couple of hours, I think.”

Nesta frowned. “Isn’t it a ten hour flight from Paris?”

“I think they’re taking some new jet that gets you there in half the time.” Elain’s voice grew soft, as if she were unsure of the facts.

That’s how it always was with Rhys. Nesta never knew if half of the things he said were true or not, mostly because they just seemed so unrealistic or unbelievable. It always irritated her when she was proven wrong. Still, it was easier to believe that he was a grifter lying about being rich than accept the fact that he was actually the sole heir of his father’s multi-million dollar real estate empire. 

“I hope they bring goodies. Would it be horrible to ask for a box of macracons from Laduree? I should text Feyre now!”

Nesta shook her head as she rearranged items back into her suitcase. Elain would be happy to know that she had room for two dresses and Nesta was also pleased she was able to squish another sweater in before zipping the whole thing up.

“How many books are you bringing?” Elain asked, knowing her sister too well.

Nesta eyed the tote bag crammed full of books sitting by the door. “Not that many.”

“Good! We’re going to have so much sisterly bonding time that you’re going to get sick of me by the end of this whole thing!”

“Never.” Nesta looked around her apartment longingly, but after hearing the excitement in Elain’s voice, she lifted the phone and suitcase off the bed, heading to the door. “Are you sure I can’t pick you up?”

“I’m sure. Graysen should be getting off soon and I know you hate my music choices.”

It was hard to argue with that one.

“If you don’t mind waiting, you could ride with us,” Elain suggested, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The truth was that if Nesta and Graysen were to be locked in a confined space together for the whole ride, no one of them would not make it to Napa alive…and there was a very big possibility that Nesta would end up being charged for murder. They all knew this, but it still never stopped Elain from trying to force Graysen and Nesta to get along. 

“Thanks for the offer, but you know how I hate sitting in the back seat.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything. I’ll see you soon.”

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

Six and a half hours later, Nesta pulled up the gravel drive of Rhys’ lake house. To call it big would have been an understatement. The house was actually a mini-mansion which stood two stories high, but also had a ground level cut into the sloping hill next to it and she had a feeling she was only seeing half of its actual size from her viewpoint.

The sun was beginning to sink below the edge of the lake, causing the windows to glitter with the reflecting light and Nesta had to admit to herself that it really was beautiful. 

She turned off her ignition and looked around. She had expected Feyre to bound down the porch stairs to usher her inside, but the house sat quiet. And with the sun fading, she thought it was odd that there wasn’t a single light on in the house. There were no other cars that she could see besides her own and a beat up truck with peeling paint on its tailgate.

Perhaps it was a maintenance man, or gardener. Even with the woods at its doorstep, the house still had a manicured lawn and enough of a garden that Elain would swoon over the roses and an hydrangeas swaying happily in the breeze. 

Nesta grabbed her phone to make sure she got the right address. She was certain that she had, but she was starting to get an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, and that was when she saw the missed call and texts from her sisters. 

She almost didn’t want to read them.

01:03 Feyre: The airport is packed. Gross.

01:03 Elain: Don’t touch anything! Wash your hands!

01:22 Feyre: Flight is delayed. Don’t worry, Rhys is trying to find us a charter.

01:24 Elain: Keep us posted.

Nesta shook her head in disbelief as she scrolled down to the bottom of the text window. 

04:58 Feyre: No one’s flying out of Paris and London’s due to cancel all their flights.

04:58 Elain: So you’re stuck in France?!?

04:59 Feyre: For now, yes.

Nesta’s knuckles were turning white from clutching her phone. She tapped the play button on Feyre’s voicemail, one that she clearly left without allowing Nesta to pick up.

“Nesta, don’t be mad. We’re doing everything we can to get home. Rhys is calling in all his favors. It’s going to be okay. You’ll be with Elain and you can call me at any time—we’re heading back to the apartment now. I’ll call you if anything changes. Stay safe.”

Nesta could feel the heat rising from her chest and crawling up her neck as she punched in Elain’s number.

“Nesta! Don’t be mad!”

She had to take a deep breath. “Where are you?”

The two seconds of silence immediately made Nesta want to bare her teeth.

“We…haven’t left yet.”

“Elain! I offered to give you a ride. I even left work early! And now Feyre…”

“I know! I know, Nesta. Don’t hate me, but Graysen had some things he needed to finish up at the office and it’s already so late. We’d be lucky if we got there before midnight. But don’t worry! We’re going to drive up first thing in the morning.” 

“Why didn’t you call me when you knew Feyre’s flight was cancelled?” 

“I knew you were driving and I didn’t want you to be upset. Are you there now?” Elain’s voice went small. 

“Yes. I’m sitting in the drive way with no way to get inside because both my sisters have abandoned me.” 

Elain sighed, “We didn’t abandon you.”

“No? How am I getting inside the house? I’m all alone.”

Nesta could hear Elain’s breathing on the other end of the line, it was quick, almost…nervous. She narrowed her eyes. 

“Elain?”

Elain’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Well… you’re not entirely alone…”

Nesta closed her eyes and breathed out of her nose, trying to calm herself. She had felt that sense of doom all day. She should have listened to it—should have turned around on the highway and headed back to Los Angeles all those times her body was telling her too. But she ignored those warning signs—didn’t know what the universe was trying to warn her about.

But she knew now. She knew even before looking, knew before Elain said the words out loud.

When she opened her eyes and looked out her window, standing there, with his arms folded across his broad chest and a shit-eating grin on his face, was the very last person on earth Nesta Archeron wanted to be stuck in quarantine with. 

And his hazel eyes gleamed with delight.

[secret-engima]

In your TttW-verse, things go... very much not according to Bahamut‘s Plan, so... My ask would be: What are Noctis and Co like in this Verse? How different would especially Noctis be, what with being the son of two Galahdian Vitae (who also part-time as King and Queen of Lucis).

Hmmm, mostly in character? But just- wilder and more Galahdian.

-Noctis is actually taken on by Ardyn as an apprentice of sorts because Fellow Chosen, adores his Gruncle to no end. Very snarky and warptastic, does not run into the marilith so is actually VERY active and outdoorsy but also very catlike in that he will totally flop over and nap if sitting down in a sunny warm spot for more than 10 seconds.

-Still loves fishing.

-Is the Warp bby of the group. Has been warping since he was 2-3 and would rather warp over to the out of reach tv remote and knock everything over than use the legs evolution gave him and walk five steps over to it.

-Can, will, and has thrown hands with nobles he doesn’t like because this boy is 1000% his mother’s son.

-Challenged for the Trial at 14 like his Uncle Cor. When everyone said “no, you have to wait” this boy pouted for all of two hours before convincing Gladio to help him take the Trial early by hiking out into the Jungle with him.

-That lasted less than a day before the Pride itself dragged him and Gladio back home like naughty kittens because They Know that Noct is too young and Gladio has already passed his Trial and they Are Not Supposed To Be Out Here Yet.

-Prompto is adopted straight up by Cor after he busts bby Prom out of the Nif lab. While all Galahd gears up to Wipe Niflheim Off the Face of the Earth (because of that Law I mentioned in another HC about all the Clans turning on people who murder kids, this goes even further than Kinslayer LCs and they WON’T stand for it) Cor brings home bby Prompto and it just- “Mine. My bby now.”

-Consider Galahd’s culture norms nobody bat an eye on Cor adopting the bby Prom. They just want to know who gets first dibs on babysitting.

-Prompto grows up WAY more confident in himself. Still Sunshine Boi, still scared of the dark/enclosed spaces/heights but is 100% more down for the wilderness and Thrives under Galahd teachings.

-Assuming Cor is married by this point, that means Prom grows up with 2 moms. 1 is Cor’s wife. The other is his Coeurl. It is really no surprise that Prompto figure out how to purr at like- age 5.

-Still loves his camera. Gets along with the Canere Clan kids like a house on fire.

-Magic given to him at age 2 by Cor’s wife with the assumption that someday she will retract it and Noctis will give it instead. Stealth bby. Prompto once managed to somehow disappear for 5 hours, driving Cor, his wife, the Coeurl, and everyone in a two mile radius UTTERLY INSANE until the Coeurl finally tracked him down ... in his crib. Where he’d been. For the last five hours. Three of those hours have been spent peacefully napping after he fell asleep in the middle of playing hide and seek with his dad (that he did not tell Cor about ahead of time because Toddler Brain)

-Has known Noct since they were tiny bbys and consider each other literal siblings (picture teeny 5-ish yr old Noct and Prom clumsily trying to braid sibling braids into each other’s hair and not managing it because TINY CHILDREN while Regis and Cor both quietly die from cuteness in the corner).

-Gladio. Clarus didn’t ... MEAN for his kid to grow up Very Feral it just kinda happened because Galahdians and Cor. This guy gets along WAYYYY too well with the Bellum kids for Clarus’s sanity but he’s also doggedly loyal and thriving in the outdoor jungle environment so....

-Juno is surprisingly Chill with having her kids be brainwashed by Galahdians. Even if she herself is only peripherally part of the culture via Exposure. Then again she gets along SPLENDIDLY with Cor’s wife and Aulea so...

-Met Noct when Noct was born and, in true Amicitia and Bellum fashion, went- MINE and actually tried to Throw Hands with the nurses because YOU AREN’T CLAN, GET AWAY FROM MY BBY BROTHER. All of the nurses who WERE in fact Ostium thank you just patted his head and went about their tasks with a three year old chasing them around screeching.

-This Gladio never criticized Noctis as spoiled, he IS the one who spoils Noct. He is determined to be the Best Big Bro Ever and the impulse only gets worse when Prompto and then later Iris arrive.

-Gladio is not born with magic but he is given it by Noct when Noct is like- 7. Gladio immediately becomes a Shield bby. He can and will spam shield spells for any reason, any time. Noctis uses Gladio’s shields as a slide. Prom likes mushing his face against them for the tingly feeling.

-Ignis is the group Ostium, but also the group Sane Man. Was inducted the latest into Galahd culture at age ... 10-ish when it became clear that Noct, Prom, and Gladio all Needed A Handler and there were not Ostium children currently available for the job.

-Thinks they are all Nuts. And will think that to the day he dies.

-But he’s right there with them so he guess’s he’s nuts too.

-Actually was the Problem Relationship rather than Gladio in this Au because he was trying to be Proper Servant Of the Prince and Noct kept trying to treat him like Clan and Sibling. Ignis thought Noctis was reckless and spoiled and wild and Noctis thought Ignis needed surgery to get the stick out of his butt.

-Then Noct when on an Adventure without Prom and Gladio for whatever reason and met a Scary Beast and Ignis came hurtling out of the brush, glasses askew and screeching like a banshee. Successfully scared off the beastie with Sheer Spite and Desperation. Noctis spent the trip back crying into Ignis’s shoulder and bonding magically to him. Ignis made it all the way back to the frantic village before bursting into tears as well.

-Loves cooking. Loves learning Galahd dishes. Its the first thing he actually likes about this jungle place he got dragged off to. Also promising Noctis food is basically his go-to method to get this Warptastic child to SIT DOWN FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS and do his homework or whatever.

-Ostium take one look at this frazzled, exasperated child and went “Ohhhh so THIS is what the Ulrics feel like when finding a new LC stray. This is our child now. Ostium soul in the wrong bloodline. We shall fix that with a controlled shock adoption.”

-Ignis has no idea why he needs to be adopted by the Ostium but the King is saying to go with it so okay.

-Being adopted by the Ostium proves instantly worth it because they have INSIDER TIPS on handling Warptastic morons and they have healing techniques they are willing to share even if he doesn’t have Oracle magic.

-Still does his best to convince Noct to Not Throw Hands with the nobles all the time.

-Gets into a lot of fights with Gladio over Throwing Hands on Noct’s Behalf.

-Thinks Prom is the perfect child until Prom accidentally Stealths into the kitchen and gives Ignis a heart attack. Then Prom is the Sneaky Child.

-Ends up the Elemency bby of the group. Can and will Set Everything On Fire when pushed far enough.

-Probably ends up Bewildered and Courted at age 18 by a spitfire Altius girl (Crowe maybe?) because all the Clans think Ignis is Amazing™ for handling the Chocobros as well as he does.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

A/N: Based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name. MAATHP is my favorite song off of Lover, and ever since I heard it this is what I saw in my head. I don’t know what that says about me, but here we go. This is my first time posting on Tumblr, so I’m sorry if this absolutely sucks.....

She came to the school when she was young.

They all do. They arrive as children and leave as adults, marching through the arched gateway with crowns on their heads and smiles on their faces as they turn their sights onto the world at large. And above them, their queen of kings, watching over them all in her sparkling gown and prom picture smile.

Miss Americana.

The girl knew from the moment that she stepped through those doors that someday she would be that woman, that pure and powerful figure who stood above the rest, raised to a pedestal by her doting peers to represent them as a class and as a people. Here, on the ground, she was no one, voiceless, meaningless… up there, she would be everything.

To get her classmates to adore her was critical, and yet it was so simple. She went to games and rallies, plays and parties, cementing her face and figure firmly at the core of school spirit so that they could not think ok one without the other. She danced on the football field with the other cheerleaders as the boys plowed through the enemy and skipped over the line, ball in hand. She relished in the roar that echoed through the stadium and beyond, the sound of screams, of chants, of victory.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!”

She sat stick straight at the desk in the front of the room, making a show of how attentive and responsible she was by scribbling down notes every time the teachers opened their mouths. Classes didn’t matter as much, though—people looked for devotion, not intelligence.

And so, she rose through the ranks. The Future Majesty, they called her. The Best of All of Us. They clapped for her as she walked through the halls, patted her on the back while telling her she was destined for great things, and she smiled and thanked them because she knew it was true. She basked in the glory of their worship and bathed in the validation that was their love.

They weren’t completely devoted, however. There was one, one boy who sat next to her in the front of the room, who said nothing. He sat at his desk and wrote in his notebook and slunk out of the room with his head down, never sparing her a second glance. She didn’t spare him many glances either. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. Many girls had looked at him with hearts in their eyes and hope in their chest, but he looked past all of them. He was weird, one weird boy in a class of a hundred normal ones, and he didn’t matter.  

Still, she wondered about him. Outside of class, she never saw him. Not at the football games, not at the theater troupe’s performances, not at the many dances throughout the year. She had never known a fellow student to have so little spirit. He was an oddity, a challenge. Miss Americana was meant to inspire spirit—surely she could stoke up the fire of patriotism within him?

And so, one day, she leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Are you excited for this Friday’s ceremony?” she asked.

He looked up at her. Looking at his face, she could see why so many fell for him. His eyes were deep and promising, the sparkling shade of a glacier.

“What’s happening this Friday?” he asked, his voice low and disinterested.

“Why, the End of Year Ceremony! You know, when this year’s Miss Americana is crowned and a football game is played in her honor? It’s going to be fabulous, I just know! I can’t wait to see who Miss Americana will be!”

He turned back to his notebook. “You will.”

She smiled and gave her well-practiced soft giggle. “Do you really think so? I’m not sure. There are so many girls who are worthy of it, you know--”

“You will,” He scratched out a mark on the paper as he spoke. “They’ll call your name and put a crown on your head and everyone will clap and lose their minds over it.”

She frowned. “You’re speaking as though you won’t be there.”

“I won’t.”

“Oh, but you must come!” She wrapped her hands around his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s our last big hurrah before we graduate! Don’t you want to savor every moment of it before we leave forever?”

He pulled his arm free and pushed her away. “No. I’m counting the seconds until I can leave and never come back.”

This wasn’t working. How could someone be so stubborn, so cold? “But… why? This is your home, it’s been your home for years--”

“Just because I’ve lived here doesn’t mean it’s home.”

“But it’s been such a wonderful home--”

“Are you really that blind?” He stood up abruptly, snatching his books from his desk. “Do you honestly believe that this is heaven on Earth? Open your eyes. We’re losing.”

She prickled. “We’re undefeated in all of our sports--”

“No. We’re losing to ourselves. We’ve been losing for a long time.” He turned to leave the classroom. “It’s about time you saw that.”

She huffed, her face burning in embarrassment. If that was the way he felt, fine. She didn’t need his support. She didn’t need his love. She didn’t need anything from him. She already had everything.

They crowned her just as he predicted they would. She was all smiles and waves as she ascended to her throne, the picture of grace as she lifted the red silk of her gown oh so slightly to walk up the steps. They cheered, her subjects, her peers, her friends; they all cheered and clapped and roared for her as the crown was placed atop her curls.

“Thank you!” she said. “Thank you so very much! I love you all!”

And then the game began.

It felt odd to watch the cheerleaders run onto the field, waving their red and blue pom poms as they danced to the band’s chant. She was so used to being there, on the grass, welcoming the players herself. It looked a bit different from up here on the podium. Everyone seemed angrier, rougher than usual. But what did it matter? She was Miss Americana.

Until the first snap, and the players rushed at each other. She screamed when boy attacked boy, the football lying forgotten in the grass as players pounded their opponents to the ground, bashing their ribs, their shoulders, their skulls into the dirt, staining the field with splashes of red.

“What are they doing?” she yelled. “Stop them, somebody stop them!”

Everyone else was yelling too, standing on their feet, jumping up and down as they clapped and cheered.

On the sidelines, the cheerleaders screamed.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!”

She stood up, whipped around to the wizened old man who stood next to her, the one who had crowned her only moments before. “What’s wrong with them? You have to stop them!”

He gave her a quizzical look. “They’re just playing the game.”

“No, they’re not! They’re killing each other!” A new set of players lined up on the field for the next snap, kicking aside the lifeless bodies on the bloodstained grass.

The whistle blew, and the ball went flying, the sound of crushing bones and mangled cries drowned out by the frenzied applause. The man nodded. “They’re winning.”

“Are you blind?” she shrieked. “That’s not winning! They’re hurting each other!”

“My dear, that’s football. It’s fine. The referee will call a foul if things get too bad.”

The referee stood on the sidelines, whistle resting languidly against his chest.

“Are you crazy?” she hissed.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!” The cheerleaders danced across corpses, their white shoes stained red.

Someone on the sidelines hurtled a rock at one of the players. It struck him in the shoulder, causing him to drop the boy he had been throttling. With a roar, the player rushed at the guilty party, ripping off his helmet to beat his opponent with it. The audience whooped and cheered.

She was shaking. “This isn’t my school.”

The old man smiled. “Yes, it is. We’re winners here. Can’t you see that we’re winning?”

She ran.

She ran away from the screams and the cheers, tripping on her heels as she tumbled down the stairway. The hem of her gown, her gorgeous red gown on which they had spent hours sewing every tiny red sequin, caught between her foot and the floor, and she winced as fabric ripped and sent her sprawling.

“GO! FIGHT! WIN!”

Behind her, they were screaming. Were they coming for her? Did they thirst for her blood as well? She was afraid to look behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she scrambled down the hallway barefoot.

The floor was slick and wet. Blood? How? How could it be here? Lockers flew by her, dented doors barely hanging on to their hinges.

It couldn’t be. She panted as she rushed down the hallway, skidding to avoid the shards of glass that littered the bloodstained floor. It couldn’t be like this. Her school was beautiful, kind, a beacon meant to make the world a better place. Her classmates weren’t savages; they loved and cared for each other and wanted the best for everyone. They elected her to represent that to the rest of the country. This wasn’t right!

Open your eyes. We’re losing.

She tripped, her lips kissing blood as she hit the tile. Frantically, she tried to stand, but the floor was so slippery, there was nothing to hold on to, there was nothing—

Arms wrapped around her waist and she shrieked, writhing like a feral animal as they hauled her to her feet. She whipped around, ready to fight for her life….

The boy from class stood behind her. He cocked his head as he studied her, his glacier eyes piercing deep into her soul. She grabbed his wrist.

“We’ve got to get out of here—out there, did you see? It’s a massacre—”

“I know.” His voice was low and quiet, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke. He tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Has it always been like this?” she asked. “Every game?”

He nodded. “And the rallies. And parties. And everything else.”

She inhaled. “How did I never see?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Nobody seems to see. I thought I was the only one.” He offered a hand. “We should go… It’s not safe here. Probably never was.”

Her eyes followed his hand, but she didn’t take it. “Why are you here?” she finally asked. “If you could see everything, the whole time, why did you stay?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes seemed to be clouded, the glaciers obscured by a fog. “I hated it here. But leaving… never felt right.”

“But it does now?”

“Yes. It does now.” He lifted his gaze back to hers and let out a breath of a laugh, the tiniest smile cracking across his lips. “Maybe I was waiting for you.”

She laughed too.

He thrust his hand towards her again, as if to emphasize its existence. “Well… shall we?”

The girl smiled, the shouts and screams of the field melting away into nothingness. “Lead the way.”

[splat-dragon]

It’s a kid.

 At least, he thinks it is. It - her? his? they’re still largely in the shadows, curled in on them-self, and he can’t quite tell - their hair is long and tangled, hiding their eyes, but he can just make out the wide eyes of someone young, even wider with alarm and he can easily imagine, if they were to be fed up, a kid's heavy roundness to their face.

 As it stood, though, his stomach churns at the way their skin clung to their face. Even from a distance, he could make out the hollows of their cheeks, the dips of their temples, and prays that it’s not as bad as it looks, that the shadows are making it look worse. ‘Christ, please.’

 They’re curled up, curled in on them-self, legs tucked against their chest fearfully, and he can barely make out Hosea muttering soothingly beside him, trying to get them to approach, but they’re steadfast in their refusal to move, huddling to the wall though it were an island and the hay beneath them an ocean, the pair naught more than sharks out to feast.

They’re misshapen, he realizes when Hosea’s swaying lantern casts just that bit more light on them than before. Can they even stand? “Hosea,” he mutters and they flinch, those strange legs unfolding to scrabble in the hay, scraping loudly even as Dutch hushes and Hosea mutters soothingly, as though they’re talking to some feral horse and not to a feral kid.

 They’re pulling on all their experience with Arthur and John and all the others, and coming up horribly wanting.

They weren’t reaching the kid. They seemed only more and more panicked, scurrying out of the light and huddling against the wall as though trying to become one with it, beginning to make whimpering, gasping sounds that tore at their hearts.

 So, though they knew it would at least, at first, make it worse, they opened the stall door and stepped inside. The hay was surprisingly plush beneath their feet, muffling their footsteps and leaving them feeling as if they were wading through a marsh, and with each lurching step the kid flinched as if expecting a blow.

 And Dutch damn well wanted to hit something when Hosea’s lamplight finally cast enough light on the kid that they could see them.

Their hands were bound behind them, shoulders looking painful in the way they were hunched, ropes twining up and down in a needlessly intricate display, vanishing into a curved tube that kept them held pretty. And shit, they were gagged, how hadn’t he seen it before? a bridle not unlike a horse’s but seeming to have been made to fit them fastened to their face, holding their mouth shut and - his stomach churned, he saw red - a pair of elk’s horns sprouted up from the top like it were some child’s costume.

 From the stream of rather inventive curses behind him, Hosea had seen it, too.

 “Easy, easy,” he soothed, barely able to hear Hosea doing the same over the pounding of his heart in his ears, but he could hear the jangling of chains clear as day, and - there they were, attached to the tube that held their arms crossed behind them, to the ring of the bit, leading off somewhere into the shadows, but more glinted in the light of their lanterns and when his eyes followed it - 

 his mind couldn’t process it and he thought, for a moment, their legs had been grievously broken. Left untreated long enough as to turn gangrenous, because how else could their legs be so discolored, so twisted? But then he caught the seam just beneath their knee at the same time as Hosea did from the sound of the “jesus!” behind him, and jesus indeed they were looking at some sort of elk-leg boot, down to the goddamn hooves.

“Easy,” Hosea muttered, putting the lantern down so he could see without having to wave it around, setting his gun aside in a purposeful gesture. The kid’s breathing was picking up, each breath hitching, and from the looks of their dingy shirt they were hurting or, at least, had been hurting, pretty bad.

 “I just want to get those chains off of you, alright kiddo?” he hummed, looking over to Dutch and making a ‘give me’ motion that took him a moment to parse, then oh and he passed over his lock breaker, reaching for the boot and shuddering at the feel of it, it felt like real fur, like any other elk’s leg and

 “Shit, Hosea!”

 like a panicked horse, the kid kicked him in the chest with hooves that were hard and strong as an elk’s, dropping him, wheezing, into the hay. Hosea was anything if stubborn, though, and had one hell of a bleeding heart even if he’d never admit it, so he shook off Dutch’s hands and stood again, approaching the kid much more slowly.

 Their eyes were even wider, if that were even possible, big and blue behind wild brown hair, and their breath escaped them in tiny, rapid whimpers. “It’s fine, kiddo,” well no, it wasn’t, he was pretty sure they’d cracked a rib, “I just want to help you, I want to get that chain off your leg, alright?”

 “Hosea…” Dutch cautioned, but Hosea didn’t wait, choreographing his movements as he stretched forward, grabbing the kid’s leg and pulling it into his lap.

 If the kid kicked again, Dutch thought, it wouldn’t be his ribs that took the blow.

 But the kid seemed to have worn themselves out with that kick, slumping against the wall though even still they rattled and shook like a leaf in a winter gale, staring unblinkingly at Hosea, then him, then back at Hosea as he fumbled with the lock on the chain.

 In only a few moments Hosea had the chain dropping to the ground, and the look of utter shock on the kid’s face made it all worth it.

 And the kid didn’t struggle at all as he unchained their other ankle, giving them hope.

“There,” Hosea murmured, “that’s better, isn’t it?” and the kid stared at him as though trying to figure out the answer to a very complicated question, finally giving a stuttering nod. “My friend here, his name is Dutch, I’m Hosea, is going to get that off your head while I work on your arms, is that okay with you?”

 The kid froze, staring at him with that look again, like he was asking some terribly hard question and the kid was trying to figure out the answer, before lowering their head, offering it to Dutch and that seemed to be the best answer they’d get so Dutch moved to kneel in front of them as Hosea pulled out his knife and went to work trying to loosen the countless knots in the ropes that bound their arms.

 “Easy, I’ve got you,” Dutch muttered, frowning when they flinched at the first touch of his hand on their head, sliding his hand down along their jawline to coax their head up so he could access the leather of the bridle, finding that it dug into their flesh.

 He, finally, had to draw his knife, soothing the poor kid when they saw it, and spent more time than he was comfortable with sawing through the leather - say what you will, but the damn thing was very well made. He could hear time ticking by in his head, every heartbeat another moment the people who lived in the house could be riding up the road, ready to discover them freeing the kid.

 The kid audibly sighed their relief when he finally managed to cut enough of the bridle that he could start to peel it off, working it over their head, murmuring his apologies when the kid winced and flinched and cowered, hesitating before tugging to coax it out of their mouth.

 It was a goddamned horse bit, not modified at all. Exactly the same as they’d use for The Count or Silver Dollar - if it weren’t attached to a human-shaped bridle, they’d have been able to shove it in one of their mouths and go. The kid’s tongue darted out to lick painful-looking lips and Dutch was quick to offer them a sip of water from his canteen, carefully tilting it to keep from drowning the poor kid, after throwing the bridle (and christ but it was heavy, those had to be real elk antlers) as far away as he could.

 “Slowly, Dutch,” Hosea griped, grunting as he managed to cut through one of the ropes, “Don’t know how long it’s been since they’ve had something to drink, don’t want to make them sick.” and Dutch had done a lot of horrible things in his life, but he felt like a true monster at the sound the kid made when he pulled the canteen away, trying to follow only to be pulled back by the chains attached to the bindings on their arms.

“Finally,” Hosea hissed, allowing the ropes to drop to the ground, reaching for the tube that kept their arms in place before hesitating, “Dutch, I don’t know if I should take this off.”

 “Don’t know - Hosea, dammit, why the hell not?!” Dutch snarled, the kid cowering, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and rein in his temper, barely catching Hosea’s hissed,

 “Dutch, I don’t know what the hell might be in there, what if I make it worse?” and… oh, that was a valid concern, he hadn’t even put a moments’ thought as to what the kid’s arms might look like, having been in the tube for who knows how long or, his stomach churned, looking at the awkwardly shaped elk leg boots, their legs, their feet.

“Here, kid, can you get up?” Dutch stood, letting Hosea get to his feet on his own time - as much as Hosea refused to admit it, he was getting up there and their sort of life wasn’t conducive to easy aging, and it would take him a moment to get off the ground after so much time spent on it; after the kid slipped, moving to brace their shoulder against the wall he took pity on them, grabbed them by the elbow just above the tube and tugged them to their feet.

 “Dutch,” Hosea said once he was on his feet, the other man having taken a moment to water the kid, “put him on Silver Dollar, alright?”

 What they were going to do with the kid, well, they didn’t know. But Dutch had a motto - save fellers as need saving, kill fellers as need killing, and feed fellers as need feeding. And this kid needed saving, and needed feeding, and so that's what they'd do.

[blazichu]

VtMB Unofficial Patch Histories

Disclaimer: Extremely long. Sorry if you encounter this on mobile.

Brujah Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

True Brujah: Many blame the stereotype of the rebellious Brujah on Triole, the hot-blooded Methuselah whose progeny compose the bulwark of modern Clan Brujah. You share no blood with Triole. As such, you are predisposed to learned idealism instead of belligerent iconoclasm.

Infomercial Huckster: I made millions from my tiny one-bedroom apartment, placing tiny classified ads, buying and selling, and with 1-900 lines. And so can you!

Special Forces: Yeah, you were Special Forces. Black ops and all that. Which branch? You could say... but you’d have to kill everyone within earshot. No, seriously.

Dive Bar Bouncer: Nobody could pass you when you stood in in a doorway and you had a lot of fun throwing people out. Now it will be even easier to hurt people.

Dropped as a Baby: If you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough. As a kid you took a lot of abuse for that funny slope in your skull... until you started fighting back.

Glass Eye: It was true what they said. You shot your eye out. It was hard growing up with a creepy glass eye, but as an adult you learned to put it to work for you. There’s something about your unnerving stare that makes people do what you say.

Quickling: The Embrace made you feel lighter than air, a sensation that has yet to leave you.

Anti-Paladin: A bully in life, a tyrant in death. You were born into undeath with savage combat prowess and an inclination to use it. And when you do, it’s a terrible sight to behold.

All-Star Athlete: You were an excellent athlete who excelled at all physical activities. However, you’re not naturally the sharpest tool in the shed. Compound that with the fact that you spent most of your time and energy exercising, you don’t really know much about anything else.

Academic: You were the Academic type, as was your Brujah sire, living up to the old Brujah image of the poet-warrior.

Brujah Female

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

True Brujah: Many blame the stereotype of the rebellious Brujah on Triole, the hot-blooded Methuselah whose progeny compose the bulwark of modern Clan Brujah. You share no blood with Triole. As such, you are predisposed to learned idealism instead of belligerent iconoclasm.

Voyeur Website Model: Maybe you weren’t the prettiest girl in school, but you could still make dirty old men sit up and beg. And pay for it. Hey, it beats Taco Bell.

Fixer: You had the streets wired. There was nothing you couldn’t find. Drugs, guns, prostitutes of every shape, age and color. One time you got Giraffe Ribeyes on a 24 hours’ notice. And apparently you’ve had more than a couple vampire clients. Who knew? You left an impression and now here you are.

Purveyor of Vice: Smoking, drinking, drugs, you did it all while you were still alive. Now in death only blood is left to turn you on.

Dropped as a Baby: If you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough. As a kid you took a lot of abuse for that funny slope in your skull... until you started fighting back.

Glass Eye: It was true what they said. You shot your eye out. It was hard growing up with a creepy glass eye, but as an adult you learned to put it to work for you. There’s something about your unnerving stare that makes people do what you say.

Quickly: The Embrace made you feel lighter than air, a sensation that has yet to leave you.

Anti-Paladin: A bully in life, a tyrant in death. You were born into undeath with savage combat prowess and an inclination to use it. And when you do, it’s a terrible sight to behold.

All-Star Athlete: You were an excellent athlete who excelled at all physical activities. However, you’re not naturally the sharpest tool in the shed. Compound that with the fact that you spent most of your time and energy exercising, you don’t really know much about anything else.

Academic: You were the Academic type, as was your Brujah sire, living up to the old Brujah image of the poet-warrior.

Gangrel Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Environmental Activist: You were a member of Greenpeace in life, always fighting to protect the environment, riding with the whales and climbing nuclear reactors. Knowing about cause and effect was important then.

Pagan: Your beliefs center on the Gnostic pantheon, and your kinship with nature is strong. After you were Embraced, you were naturally more in tune with the Beast within and that affinity is now apparent.

Mortician: The irony isn’t lost on you now. All those nights in the echoing silence with the husks of former humanity. You always thought it was your fate you were staring into. Then one night it happened. Finally. One of them-- a hell of a fine specimen, you were thinking-- woke up.

Ex-Cop: You were a great cop-- until a meth-head’s knife glanced your spine and left you relegated to deskwork for the rest of your career.

Perv: You love women. Good God Almighty, do you love women. You love their bits ‘n you love their places. Mmmmmm yeah. They never really reciprocated your interest, but, well, fuck ‘em. In underneath your suppressed appetites have reemerged.

Chupacabra: Rumor has it you are descended from the legendary Chupacabra-- the blood-frenzied devil that has haunted the Mexican country for generations. The veracity of this dubious distinction is impossible to discern, but your feral instincts are strong.

Insectoid: Maybe it’s the vague compulsion to spin a web, or when you catch yourself trying to use your imaginary feelers, but something in your Gangrel blood is exceptional.

Anda Gangrel: Descendant of nomadic vampire-warriors, you were bred for extreme trials of endurance.

Close to the Beast: After you were Embraced, you were naturally more in tune with the Beast within and that affinity is now physically apparent.

Pot Head: Scientists say that smoking pot can make you more stupid. That may explain your terrible memory as you often forget names and other details. However, you have a very relaxed attitude toward life, or unlife.

Gangrel Female

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Environmental Activist

Pagan Priestess: You believe your Embrace into Clan Gangrel was destiny. You were priestess to a pagan sect in life, and nature is the center of your mind, body and soul. After you were Embraced, you were naturally more in tune with the Beast within.

Mortician: The irony isn’t lost on you now. All those nights in the echoing silence with the husks of former humanity. You always thought it was your fate you were staring into. Then one night it happened. Finally. One of them-- a hell of a fine specimen, you were thinking-- woke up.

Ex-Cop: You were a great cop-- until a meth-head’s knife glanced your spine and left you relegated to deskwork for the rest of your career.

Hard-Ass Chica: You were born into a neighborhood just outside of downtown LA. It might as well have been the Third World. And you were just one girl kicking and biting her way to survival. In the middle of famine and marauding victimizers, gang life was life.

Beastmistress: Mortal creatures sense vampires as an abomination, outsiders to the natural order. Your presence, however, seems to pacify the animal spirit like a sickly sweet intoxicant.

Insectoid: Maybe it’s the vague compulsion to spin a web, or when you catch yourself trying to use your imaginary feelers, but something in your Gangrel blood is exceptional.

Anda Gangrel: Descendant of nomadic vampire-warriors, you were bred for extreme trials of endurance.

Close to the Beast: After you were Embraced, you were naturally more in tune with the Beast within and that affinity is now physically apparent.

Pot Head: Scientists say that smoking pot can make you more stupid. That may explain your terrible memory as you often forget names and other details. However, you have a very relaxed attitude toward life, or unlife.

Malkavian Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Cut-Rate Party Clown: It was just supposed to be until you put things back together after Evelyn left you. Here it is, 3 years 3,246 scotches later. Somehow you’ve kept this gig going without one repeat customer. Truly, America is the greatest nation on earth.

Nutty Weatherman: Your inane banter and masterful use of the awkward segue was the toast of Bumblefuck, Illinois. So you took to the big leagues and, wouldn’t ya know it? First skank you pick up at an airport goes and kills you.

Long and Little Foot: ‘Don’t help me!’ Your dual deformities make life difficult, but you’re one of those hard-luck, triumph-in-the-face-of-adversity stories that people gobble up.

Burnout: Science has yet to prove the link between marijuana and decreased mental capacity. You say you’ve always been a little slow, but that’s just because you’re so mellow.

Ninja: You think you’re a ninja. Kee-ai!

Doomseer: The paralyzing fear of eternal death has an iron grip on you. Doom is just around he corner for you, for everyone, you just know it. And you lack faith in your vampire abilities. What’s the use anyway?

Completely Batshit: The curse of Clan Malkavian burns white-hot in your veins. You are a brimming cauldron of lunacy.

Subtly Insane: Your insanity does not hinder your ability to interact with others too greatly. At first glance, most wouldn’t even second guess your mental stability.

Occult Nut: Who would have thought that any of it could be real? You loved dark fantasies and considered yourself Occult-savvy. Now that you’re among the Kindred, you find that you actually know some of this stuff and are really excited about learning more about your new state of life.

Deaf: You were born practically deaf. Not only did you overcome your disability, you enjoy helping others cope and get ahead in life.

Malkavian Female

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Ex-Gymnast-Stripper: Your entire childhood was spent either in school or at practice. Daddy was too busy to tell you there’s no such thing as a professional gymnast. And mommy... well, mommy was busy looking for a new daddy.

Women’s Prison Guard: You were a black-hearted, violence-loving badass when you were alive, and you’re still an evil maniac in unlife. You had always hoped it would be more like skinemax. If only.

Long and Little Foot: ‘Don’t help me!’ Your dual deformities make life difficult, but you’re one of those hard-luck, triumph-in-the-face-of-adversity stories that people gobble up.

Burnout: Science has yet to prove the link between marijuana and decreased mental capacity. You say you’ve always been a little slow, but that’s just because you’re so mellow.

Ninja: You think you’re a ninja. Kee-ai!

Doomseer: The paralyzing fear of eternal death has an iron grip on you. Doom is just around he corner for you, for everyone, you just know it. And you lack faith in your vampire abilities. What’s the use anyway?

Completely Batshit: The curse of Clan Malkavian burns white-hot in your veins. You are a brimming cauldron of lunacy.

Subtly Insane: Your insanity does not hinder your ability to interact with others too greatly. At first glance, most wouldn’t even second guess your mental stability.

Occult Nut: Who would have thought that any of it could be real? You loved dark fantasies and considered yourself Occult-savvy. Now that you’re among the Kindred, you find that you actually know some of this stuff and are really excited about learning more about your new state of life.

Deaf: You were born practically deaf. Not only did you overcome your disability, you enjoy helping others cope and get ahead in life.

Nosferatu Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Video Game Publisher: You relish a sad pleasure in ruining promising game developing studios with impossible deadlines.

Eco-Terrorist Hacker: You were an expert computer hacker dedicated to preserving the environment, sticking it to the man, one denial-of-service at a time. Your side was attracted to your dedication and respect for nature.

Pedagogue: I always said he’d come to no good in the end, your honor. If they’d let me have my way, I could’ve flayed him into shape.

Lowborn: Trash, rabble, scum-- whatever you call it, you’re the supernatural equivalent. You come from a long line of gutter-dwelling, bottom-feeding, undead riffraff. As such, you are predisposed to the dregs of humanity.

Cadaverous Flesh: Each manifestation of vampirism is unique. Yours, it turns out, carries an unfortunate deficiency. Your body wants to rot. It’s nothing that can’t be overcome, but it’s a constant drain on you.

Boogeyman: Humanity is a fascinating spectacle indeed. Everyone has wanted to be a fly on the wall at one time or another, but you were obsessed with the idea. As luck would have it, your Nosferatu progenitors all had a penchant for peeping as well.

Leatherface: Your rebirth as a hideous beast was a dream come true. The power is intoxicating. And now you’re going to make them pay-- all of them.

Shepherd of Vermin: Like a creature of urban legend you commune with pestilent scavengers and share their filthy domain.

Presentable: The Nosferatu blood from your sire was rather weak and the blood curse did not take too strong a hold on you. You’re only deformed where the moon doesn’t shine.

Peeping Tom: It’s not your fault you were born lacking in the appearance department. Since nobody likes you, your unfulfilled and repressed sexual desires have turned you into quite the little pervert. 

Nosferatu Female

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Gossip Columnist: Item! You’re dead! Who would have ever thought that any of it could be real? You loved dark fantasies and consider yourself Occult-savvy.

Pedagogue: I always said he’d come to no good in the end, your honor. If they’d let me have my way, I could’ve flayed him into shape.

Baglady: Your life was a big mess which left you stranded on the streets with nothing but cheap booze. And now you look even worse!

Blunt Fangs: Things were never easy for you. You fought for every scrap that was eventually stolen from you. You treasure everything you have, and savor every hard lesson learned, even while you suspect God hates you. This luck carries over to undeath. You have blunt fangs.

Lowborn: Trash, rabble, scum-- whatever you call it, you’re the supernatural equivalent. You come from a long line of gutter-dwelling, bottom-feeding, undead riffraff. As such, you are predisposed to the dregs of humanity.

Cadaverous Flesh: Each manifestation of vampirism is unique. Yours, it turns out, carries an unfortunate deficiency. Your body wants to rot. It’s nothing that can’t be overcome, but it’s a constant drain on you.

Cleopatra: There are fates worse than death. You know this. in life, you were an object of desire. Men wanted you, women wanted to be like you. You have been transformed into a cruel mockery of your former self. As someone acutely aware of how easy life is for the beautiful people, you have unique insight into the psychology of human and vampire alike.

Shepherd of Vermin: Like a creature of urban legend you commune with pestilent scavengers and share their filthy domain.

Presentable: The Nosferatu blood from your sire was rather weak and the blood curse did not take too strong a hold on you. You’re only deformed where the moon doesn’t shine.

Black-Hearted: You were a black-hearted, violence loving, badass when you were alive, and you’re still an evil maniac in unlife.

Toreador Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Teamster: You believe in collective bargaining to get justice for working families. And if that fails, there’s collective wrench beatings.

Degenerate Gambler: You knew you shoulda laid the chalk. You were down. Down big. But you had to press it on a parlay with the over and caught bad beat on the hook. On the friggin’ hook. So much for Vegas. You figured you’d slum it around LA till you could build a roll to gt back in. And that’s when you met her...

Rehab Counselor: You always had an open ear for other people’s problems, even if you had to listen to some scumbags sitting in prison.

Velvet Rope Doorman: You hand-craft the scene with nothing more than a clipboard, a cheap headset, and a dispassionate contempt for humanity.

Rapacious Bloodlust: The Embrace brought out a mean streak in you. You’re constantly fighting the urge to kill, even as your power to do so grows.

Beautiful Monster: You are ruled by your passions. And some of them ain’t pretty. People find you absolutely mesmerizing. But you were always too self-absorbed to bother with normal human repartee.

Uncanny Awareness: You swear to God you can see the future. Not years from now, or even next week, but moment-to-moment you always see what’s coming. You are so acutely aware of your surroundings that you’ve been known to dodge bullets without looking.

Faelike: You are a creature of delicate beauty and ephemeral grace. You seem more likely to have spring from the pages of Spenser or Keats than Sheller or Stoker.

Starving Artist: You were a starving artist. You lived with the clothes on your back and because of your poor background, you do not have any compunction against wearing ugly clothes.

Ex-SWAT: While in the police force, you’ve developed quite a skill with firearms. However, you quite the forces after receiving a crippling injury while in the line of duty.

Toreador Female

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Teamster: You believe in collective bargaining to get justice for working families. And if that fails, there’s collective wrench beatings.

Twenty-Something: It’s about the people, you know. Out here, on te streets, in the clubs... That’s where it’s going on. That’s where it’s coming together. Not in some boardroom. And the people don’t wear ties. The next generation of leaders isn’t coming from the suburbs. What? You want to go there? Why? It’s going off here... open bar? Well, okay....

Rehab Counselor: You always had an open ear for other people’s problems, even if you had to listen to some scumbags sitting in prison.

Slut: So you’re a little boy-crazy. And maybe you like to get guys’ attention. And maybe you like to fool around. That don’t mean people have the right to go talking about you and calling you names - they don’t know you!

Rapacious Bloodlust: The Embrace brought out a mean streak in you. You’re constantly fighting the urge to kill, even as your power to do so grows.

Decadent Enchantress: Beautiful, bored, and sociopathic. You amuse yourself by testing the limits of your suitors’ devotions, and you delight at the ruin they willfully suffer for your affections.

Uncanny Awareness: You swear to God you can see the future. Not years from now, or even next week, but moment-to-moment you always see what’s coming. You are so acutely aware of your surroundings that you’ve been known to dodge bullets without looking.

Faelike: You are a creature of delicate beauty and ephemeral grace. You seem more likely to have spring from the pages of Spenser or Keats than Sheller or Stoker.

Starving Artist: You were a starving artist. You lived with the clothes on your back and because of your poor background, you do not have any compunction against wearing ugly clothes.

Ex-SWAT: While in the police force, you’ve developed quite a skill with firearms. However, you quite the forces after receiving a crippling injury while in the line of duty.

Tremere Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Old Timer: You are the old fashioned type and don’t care about all this new technology.

Country Club Lothario: We’re living in the age of soccer moms. And don’t you know it. Yeah, hubby might be pulling down 7 figures, but you got an empty day-planner and a grin that drops panties like putts on a par 3.

Con Artist: Discipline and order: only one thing counts in this life and that is to get them to sign on the line that is dotted.

Highway Drifter: Between the small towns that dot the Midwest, there’s a lot of open space, a lot of long shadows, and a lot of room to disappear. You know, you’ve done it. And you may have helped some other people do it too.

Eerie Presence: Most vampires have no problem fitting in to mortal society. You don’t know what it is, but you just can’t pull it off. You’re doing everything they’re doing, but something about you seems to make humans uneasy. Sometimes, it seems like they can just sense you. You were a perfectly affable, intellectual human. So what gives?

Deceptive Strength: You used to be quite clumsy, but the Embrace gave you unnatural reserves of physical power.

Eldritch Prodigy: You have a natural gift for the dark arts of Thaumaturgy, and can use it to greater effect than most Tremere. Thaumaturgy is your all-consuming passion, to the exclusion of nearly every other pursuit.

Infernal: Your forebears paid an awful price in their quest for power. The deal still holds, and you’ll continue to pay for eternity.

Affinity for Magic: You always liked magical illusions, and even performed some tricks yourself as a kid. Now you are amazed that magic is actually real.

Generalissimo: Discipline and order, tactics and warfare: these are the reasons why you joined the army. Not only did you fit perfectly, you excelled in the military.

Tremere Female

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Old Timer: You are the old fashioned type and don’t care about all this new technology.

Medicine Saleswoman: Some uptight types might say Fluoxetine for kids is over the line. Obviously, they have no idea what kind of profit margin those things pack. And have they spent time around kids? Please - they should put that stuff in baby formula.

Agent: Your representation was highly sought. And you were well compensated. You played every bit as hard as the boys cuz it takes brass balls to get it done in this town, and goddamn if you didn’t have the biggest pair. You were a power player. A threat. And your competition couldn’t handle getting shown up by a girl, so they sold you out to an undead predator. Pfft. Typical. This town is full of hate.

Bar Singer Seductress: Drunken overatures from traveling businessmen, room keys from toupeed conventioneers, a handful of restraining orders. This is the legacy of your career in entertainment.

Eerie Presence: Most vampires have no problem fitting in to mortal society. You don’t know what it is, but you just can’t pull it off. You’re doing everything they’re doing, but something about you seems to make humans uneasy. Sometimes, it seems like they can just sense you. You were a perfectly affable, intellectual human. So what gives?

Deceptive Strength: You used to be quite clumsy, but the Embrace gave you unnatural reserves of physical power.

Eldritch Prodigy: You have a natural gift for the dark arts of Thaumaturgy, and can use it to greater effect than most Tremere. Thaumaturgy is your all-consuming passion, to the exclusion of nearly every other pursuit.

Infernal: Your forebears paid an awful price in their quest for power. The deal still holds, and you’ll continue to pay for eternity.

Affinity for Magic: You always liked magical illusions, and even performed some tricks yourself as a kid. Now you are amazed that magic is actually real.

Generalissimo: Discipline and order, tactics and warfare: these are the reasons why you joined the army. Not only did you fit perfectly, you excelled in the military.

Ventrue Male

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Juvenile Hall Disciplinarian: Already as a teen you loved to demonstrate your influence and power over others.

Union Boss: You’re a blue-collar success story, a self-made man of the people. The respect of your workers and the gratification of a job well done was all you ever wanted in return. So the kickbacks and extortion money were all icing.

Industry Lobbyist: You have a big ego. You represented industry and pressed their agenda in the halls of power. Which industry? Which one’s paying?

Corporate Schmo: There’s no room in your cubicle to hand your Business degree. You were reprimanded for having a wrinkled shirt. And you laughed when your buddy decided to major in Rhetoric. Now he’s a sitcom writer ad wears Birkenstocks to work. He always said “business casual is the dress of defeat”. Maybe you could go back and get your MBA....

War Profiteer: Er, Defense Contractor. Someone has to make sure the troops get hot means and video teleconferencing from home. And if, while you’re over there, you can help the natives get their economy running by landing some bloated, no-bid oil services the contracts from your buddies in government, great! It’s win-win! So one of your truck drivers gets beheaded on the internet; who doesn’t realize that risk when they sign up for the job?

Runaway: Your old man was a bastard. You can say that now. It took years just to be able to mention him. You’re making progress, but you still avoid confrontation, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be comfortable with being touched.

Diabolic: In addition to the Beast Within, you struggle against an even darker force. You feel the pull of salvation and damnation in your every action.

Cleaner: Not every Ventrue is afraid to get their hands dirty. Some problems need to be met head on, and occasionally matters are too delicate to sic the Gangrel on them. While your bloodline dosn’t come from the sunny side of the Ventrue family tree, they’ve always been entrusted to take care of such problems.

Megalomaniac: You have a big ego. Because of your confidence in yourself and your abilities, people either really hate you, or are drawn to you.

Well Educated: You were very privileged and gained excellent education all-around.

Ventrue Female:

Homosexual: You always found your own gender more attractive than the other sex, although many people still have issues dealing with this. Maybe vampire society is different.

Juvenile Hall Disciplinarian: Already as a teen you loved to demonstrate your influence and power over others.

Industry Lobbyist: You have a big ego. You represented industry and pressed their agenda in the halls of power. Which industry? Which one’s paying?

Southern Debutante: You were very privileged and gained excellent education. Mother would be so proud if she knew you were accepted into the *best* vampire clan around!

Corporate Schmo: There’s no room in your cubicle to hand your Business degree. You were reprimanded for having a wrinkled shirt. And you laughed when your buddy decided to major in Rhetoric. Now he’s a sitcom writer ad wears Birkenstocks to work. He always said “business casual is the dress of defeat”. Maybe you could go back and get your MBA....

War Profiteer: Er, Defense Contractor. Someone has to make sure the troops get hot means and video teleconferencing from home. And if, while you’re over there, you can help the natives get their economy running by landing some bloated, no-bid oil services the contracts from your buddies in government, great! It’s win-win! So one of your truck drivers gets beheaded on the internet; who doesn’t realize that risk when they sign up for the job?

Runaway: Your old man was a bastard. You can say that now. It took years just to be able to mention him. You’re making progress, but you still avoid confrontation, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be comfortable with being touched.

Dominatrix: You’ve always been persuasive, but as a vampire, few can deny your will.

Diabolic: In addition to the Beast Within, you struggle against an even darker force. You feel the pull of salvation and damnation in your every action.

Megalomaniac: You have a big ego. Because of your confidence in yourself and your abilities, people either really hate you, or are drawn to you.

Well Educated: You were very privileged and gained excellent education all-around.

[artnerd1123]

Seraph’s Character Sheet

here’s a big ol heap of info for m’gal seraph!!! enjoy! (and apologies to those the readmore doesn’t cooperate with slkdfjks)

Character Chart Character’s full name: Seraph Sanyi Reason or meaning of name: her first name is a reference to her feral form, a seraph, and her last name means cold in hausa (african language) Character’s nickname: Ser-bear (only for roo) Reason for nickname: term of endearment, shows how sweet her nature is Birth date: October 13th (2017) Sexuality: panromantic  Gender/pronouns: nonbinary demigirl, she/her

Physical appearance Age: 10 (note: familiars are “mature” at 3yrs of age) How old does he/she appear: anywhere from 18 to early 20s (depending on how mature she’s acting in that moment) Weight: she’s made of feathers and wool ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (But probably a lil heavier than one would expect. She is Chonk™) Height: 4’9’’ Body build: chubby and soft, like a pear shaped pillow Shape of face: sheep Eye color: normally black sclera, white iris, but they turn yellow with a black slit if she’s about to shift forms. In her feral form, they’re all silver! Glasses or contacts: neither! Skin tone: mostly a very light silvery pink color, but her ears/mask around her eyes/legs/hooves are all a dark shade of purple  Distinguishing marks: none Predominant features: her wings! they have white/gold/purple feathers, also her “halo” (gold ring above her head) Hair color: white Type of hair: tightly curled wool!  Hairstyle: sometimes she puts it up, but usually its just down/puffy  Voice: singsong, kinda bell-like when laughing, pleasant to listen to ((her voiceclaim is over here!))  Overall attractiveness: any familiar will tell u she’s p cute Physical disabilities: none Usual fashion of dress: normally wears stuff with bright colors. You can  catch her in dress shirts or sweaters with khakis/jeans/leggings, dresses, anything really, as long as it looks cute!  Favorite outfit: long pinkish purple shirt, tan shorts, brown ropy looking belt Jewelry or accessories: none (note: the ring on her head is actually part of her)

Personality Good personality traits: optimistic, eager to help others, selfless, modest, generous, incredibly caring and compassionate, kind, gentle, patient, perseverant, emphatic, extremely hard worker, has a good eye for detail Bad personality traits: blind faith in those she loves, hides own problems by bottling up negative/melancholy emotions, doesn’t give herself enough credit, gives too many chances, refuses to acknowledge reality if it would make a loved one unhappy, often overexerts and exhausts herself from giving too much, is scared of being the center of attention, gets horrible chest-aching anxiety from seeing things in physical pain, can give quite the cold shoulder if made angry Mood character is most often in: happy, or as close to it as she can get! Sense of humor: she’ll laugh at almost anything as long as its not morbid or offensive. Fond of knock knock jokes, and absolutely loves puns Character’s greatest joy in life: her ability to create things and to fly Character’s greatest fear: being completely useless Why: She wants to help people out, and it pains her to see others in pain. Not to mention she’s been told the reason for her existence is to help people. If she’s unable to do so, she feels like she’s failed as a familiar and a person to do her duty in the world, and to others. It literally tears her apart inside.  What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Corruption and/or death of her loved ones (more specifically: her originator) Character is most at ease when: hanging out somewhere warm with some good friends, like at a small party/event, or at her house Most ill at ease when: in a cold, dark, and silent place, such as a tomb/cemetery or low level of a building/dungeon Enraged when: people hurt others/are incredibly rude/are mean/are outright cruel for no reason Depressed or sad when: she’s unable to lift evangel’s mood, she hasn’t been able to socialize, the things she bakes taste horrible/burn many times in a row, or she loses her voice Priorities: number one priority is taking care of evangel. Number two is making sure those she comes into contact with are happy, or at least to learn why they’re not in order to try and change that. After these is trying to improve herself/her abilities Life philosophy: treat others with utmost kindness unless they give you a good reason not to (and even then, try to be fair about it.) Everyone can change and grow; be mindful of the flowers, sprouts, and blooms around you. Do your best to help nurture them all. If granted one wish, it would be: to make everyone happy Why: The gal just… genuinely wants to see everyone smile and experience joy. No malice, no secret plans, just a true smile and good feelings for everyone. It’s what they deserve. Character’s soft spot: small fluffy animals, and any nice word or gift directed at/given to her Is this soft spot obvious to others?: ohhh yeah. She pretty much melts in the presence of tiny baby floofs, and in the face of any nice thing done for her/said to her ever Greatest strength: her almost unwavering dedication/loyalty to her friends/family Greatest vulnerability or weakness: it’s easy to make her feel that she’s failing Biggest regret: not doing better for evangel Minor regret: not adding more cinnamon to her latest batch of monkey bread- it really did need some more Biggest accomplishment: helping evangel start up and successfully upkeep her shop Minor accomplishment: making her own recipe for extremely good cinnamon chocolate chip cookies (she saves it for her bad days) Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: once she accidentally almost set the whole kitchen on fire when evangel wasn’t home. She ended up charring a cabinet and losing a whole box of fabric scraps before she managed to put it out. Why: it was a complete accident, and she takes pride in her work. Such a big slip up is v embarrassing for her Character’s darkest secret: sometimes, on her worst days, all she wants to do is fly away from her life, her friends, and everything, and go away over the ocean, not to return Does anyone else know? No. She keeps these thoughts to herself.

Goals Drives and motivations: see most important childhood memory. Additionally, she believes that everyone deserves good things, and strives to do her part in that regard. She also loves to create, especially songs and recipes. This motivates her to experiment and have fun with what she does! Her creative drive may increase or falter depending on her mood.  Immediate goals: stay on top of shop orders, finish her latest song, and make some more brownies Long term goals: keep the shop running, make evangel happy, and possibly open up a small baked goods section of the shop someday How the character plans to accomplish these goals: hard work and a happy, can do attitude, as well as finding some time to herself in which to attend to her more personal goals How other characters will be affected: hopefully very positively!

Past Hometown: whichever ocean town she’s livin in rn Type of childhood: (I’m counting the first three years of her life as childhood) it was… alright. She learned quick to hide her own bad emotions though. They seemed to distress evangel, and on top what other issues seraph saw her struggling with, she didn’t wanna be a bother. Around the same time, her feral form lost its healing power and became prone to lashing out. She put a stop to that as soon as she could, and gained control over herself in that form as well. Other than those instances it was mostly a happy “childhood.” Pets: none First memory: seeing evangel and her room Most important childhood memory: one of the first things evangel told seraph about being a familiar was that they were supposed to help their originators and make them happy. Alternatively, evangel said she was proud of seraph after she completed a whole dress by herself. Evangel was smiling so much, and she looked so happy. Why: seeing evangel so happy and proud delighted her, and she wants nothing but to replicate that happiness for her. It drives how hard she works to help her. The first memory does the same thing, and shows why she blames herself for a lot of what’s going on. Childhood hero: looked up to evangel for a short time  Dream job: baker Education: she can read/write/do basic math just fine, and knows a good deal about cooking/sewing/tailor work/etc, as well as some psychology/interpersonal relationships stuff. Definitely more self taught and street smart, though. Religion: n/a Finances: evangel took care of her 

Present Current location: same as childhood Currently living with: evangel Pets: none Religion: n/a Occupation: assists evangel in running her shop Finances: she n evangel use the shop money ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Family Mother: Evangel Relationship with her: complicated, seraph gives more than she gets in return and does most of the emotional labor, supportive but not very well (like one of those noodle/marshmallow towers kinda), draining at times but does produce good moments and a (generally) loving home Father: Relationship with him: Siblings: Relationship with them: Spouse: Roo (in the future) Relationship with them: loving and healing, they take the time to work through any issues (even specific to one another) and make sure to listen to/care for each other always. Literally Goals™ Children: Relationship with them: Other important family members: Journal Drapht and Ruffy Drapht (both in the future)

Favorites Color: pink!!! She also loves blue, like the sky. Together they make cotton candy!!! Least favorite color: swampy green/brown, along with bone white. They make her uncomfy Music: upbeat, happy tunes, particularly old timey piano/carnival songs. Flute music is also her jam Food: sweets!!! Candy is appreciated, but especially baked goods like brownies/cookies (which is why her baking/comfort eating combo usually works to calm her) Literature: cookbooks, music theory/history, and fables/short stories Form of entertainment: creating things (with her hands or her voice), and seeing others create too. Loves watching shows and having evangel animate books Expressions: a smile!!! Especially those small, contented ones, when you can tell someone is truly at peace and happy with their lot Mode of transportation: flying (as long as she’s the one doin it!) Most prized possession: an old, delicate sheet of music. It was the first song she sang, and it has many notes scribbled in the margins about different tunes and little improvements it could have. It reminds her of simpler times, and gives her a sweet nostalgia. It’s also a reminder of how far she’s come in life.

Habits Hobbies: baking, singing, reading, flying Plays a musical instrument? If voice counts, then yep! Plays a sport? Nope, but she may join in from time to time How he/she would spend a rainy day: curled up with a good book, or singing some new songs she wanted to practice. She finds the rain adds a nice ambiance to her voice Spending habits: doesn’t tend to buy much aside from food or whatever new fabric/etc evangel needs. She will splurge from time to time and get new books for herself tho (songbooks and cookbooks mostly) Smokes: nope Drinks: nope Other drugs: noooope What does he/she do too much of? Suppressing her negative emotions instead of addressing them/venting What does he/she do too little of? Spending time away from the shop/evangel Extremely skilled at: figuring out what emotions others are feeling and helping them through it, and singing (despite her minor case of stage fright) Extremely unskilled at: sports, anything mechanical, fighting, handling physical injuries Nervous tics: humming, playing with her hair, comfort eating, and compulsively organizing things Usual body posture: standing up straight and tall! Mannerisms: Always nice and kind to everyone she meets. Keeps up a cheery, positive attitude, and is almost always smiling. Tries her hardest to make everyone around her happy. Does her best on every single task assigned to her. Tends to speak in a singsong voice unless she’s not feeling great. Goes off on her own when in a bad mood. Very neat and organized, and always has some sort of advice or gentle word ready. Peculiarities: her gold ring will seem to float higher or lower above her head depending on her mood. Also hums/trills/makes some kinda quiet sound like all the time- if she isn’t, something’s probably wrong.

Traits Optimist or pessimist? Big optimist!!! Introvert or extrovert? Mostly extrovert, though she has her more introverted days n needs time to herself Daredevil or cautious? Cautious ftw Logical or emotional? Emotional, but she can usually apply some logic unless the situation is horrible Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Neat!!! V neat!!! Doesn’t mind a mess but she really likes to have a tidy space around her Prefers working or relaxing? Both. Prefers working to help others, but relaxing/bonding time is incredibly important to her Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Mostly confident, but she can get really self conscious some days Animal lover? Y e s 

Self-Perception How they feel about themself: she feels that she does her best, even if it’s not always THE best, and that she’s a pretty nice person overall. Wishes she could work harder despite her limits. One word the character would use to describe self: kindhearted One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “My name is Seraph Sanyi, and I’m a 10 year old familiar. I’m kind, gentle, emphatic, and a big optimist. I’m a hard worker, and always try to give whatever task I have my best shot. If you’ve got something to do, then why not do it well? Especially if it’s for someone else. I do what I can to try and help people as often as I’m able. Everyone deserves a bit of sunshine in their life!” “I-If you were asking about my hobbies, i like baking! Finding new recipes to try and making all sorts of sweet treats… I could do that all day long. Creating things makes me feel all warm inside. Oh, and i sing sometimes. I don’t really like singing in front of people, though. I’d much rather be a stagehand than the main attraction. Th-that’s how it is in my life.” “After all, I’m here to help. It’s what I’m made for.” What does the character consider their best personality trait? Her patient dedication or soft nature What does the character consider their worst personality trait? how cold she can get if someone makes her angry What does the character consider their best physical characteristic? Absolutely loves her wings from her feral form. Normally, she’s fond of her fur/wool. Is v sof. What does the character consider their worst physical characteristic? Doesn’t like the eyes that show up all over her in feral form. Other than that, she doesn’t really dislike any part of herself. How does the character think others perceive them: she’s been told she’s a big help to others, a source of joy, and very kind What would the character most like to change about themself: she’d like to be a bit less of a people pleaser, despite her wishes to help everyone, since she needs to take care of herself too

Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: she likes people. She’s under the “everyone can be good if they just try” mentality, and will give em plenty of chances to prove that right. Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others? If she’s mad at you, she’ll let you know. She values communication yo! And you’ll definitely be able to tell if she’s happy! But she does tend to hide feelings of sadness, despair, melancholy, hopelessness, etc. You can tell she’s not feeling her best if she’s really quiet. But she doesn’t tend to show many signs of feeling bad around people until it’s build to the point of a breakdown. If you manage to catch her in a less-than-jovial mood, it’ll take you awhile to coax what’s wrong out of her. (even if she trusts you, she won’t be forthcoming with her “blue” emotions.) Person character most hates: nobody bc hate is a strong word :V Best friend(s): evangel and a few of the familiars of regular customers in the shop. (Also, ruffy n journal n roo after story starts) Love interest(s): Roo :3 Person character goes to for advice: the town elders Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: evangel (and all her bffs/new family later) Person character feels shy or awkward around: people she doesn’t know well asking her to sing for them. Anyone who asks her to do something that’d make her the center of attention also makes her feel this way Person character openly admires: the sirens at the bottom of the sea cliff. She thinks their voices are beautiful, and that they themselves are gorgeous. She aspires to sing like them someday Person character secretly admires: the baker and the composer down the street in their own shops. They run their own businesses, are always kind/upbeat, and pretty successful in all their endeavours. They’re what Seraph secretly dreams to be, and she admires them from a distance for this reason. Most important person in character’s life before story starts: evangel After story starts: Roo, Journal, Ruffy

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #203

I’m not dead, World of Warcraft just devoured my life again.

Have you ever been inside of an abandoned building? Yes; a shack first, but we picked up the courage to just barely set foot into this small building absolutely littered with newspapers and such. Almost went into the main house, but my sister, friend, and I were too intimidated by the idea. I didn't want to imagine what could be in there; already anxious by that age, I worried about feral animals or homeless being in there. Have you ever actually believed in monsters? (Like as a kid) Yes, I think. Do you have any fascination with the macabre? Examples? Oh boy, do you know me? I find most gore cool, I love bone art/vulture culture sort of stuff, I find death and decay fascinating, then there's the roadkill photography I do (done in only great respect/to show the horror of what we can cause), dark and especially gory artwork... I could go on for a while. Do you actually think skeletons are scary? I LOVE skeletons, add that to the above list. I was always excited in school if our science class had a replica in it. What monster movie is your favorite? This is broad... You mean like, actual monsters? Not like Freddy Krueger, per se, and focused on them? Hell I dunno, maybe Monsters Inc., lol. Is Hocus Pocus really a good movie, or a bit overrated? We cannot associate if you so much as dislike Hocus Pocus. What witch-themed movie/show is your favorite, anyhow? See above. Do you like The Nightmare Before Christmas? Hell yeah. Ha, pretty funny though: I'm not obsessed with the movie or anything, yet people give me sooooooo much Jack Skellington stuff for my birthday and/or Christmas. I do love Jack, totally, but you'd assume I was more in love with the character than I actually am. Do you count it as a Halloween movie and a Christmas movie? Halloween, for me. Do you like Jack or Sally better? Jack. What other Tim Burton works do you enjoy, if any? Corpse Bride and Alice in Wonderland are my absolute favorites, then there's Frankenweenie, Beetlejuice, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach (literally my lil sis's and my childhoods), and probably more. I just love him. Are there any ‘dark’ or ‘spooky’ films you recommend? Absolutely the original Blair Witch Project. Spoiler, you never see the "witch," and that just made it so much spookier, particularly when there's a scene that seems to have a high chance of her showing up on the camera. It's very convincing in selling it as "based on a true story;" the characters act realistic in the situations they're in and are very dedicated to acting well. It's my personal definition of a "good" horror movie. If anything, shit, watch it for the ending. Creepiest goddamn thing. Just for fun – what would your personal hell look like? Yeesh, let's not visualize that... On Supernatural, do you like the angels or demons better? I am way, WAY behind, but from very faint memories, I believe the demons. Have you ever purchased anything from an occult or New Age shop? What? No. Do you know any Pagans/Wiccans? I believe one of my old friends is Wiccan? Do you know any Satanists? I don't believe so. Would you ever keep a tarantula as a pet? Nah. Are there any urban legends in your area? What are they? Looked it up and apparently NC does have some, but idk about *my* area. Do you find dead trees beautiful? Some, like really big ones. Who was the last person you sat next to? Mom. Are you embarrassed to let others see you without makeup? No. Have you ever had a nickname at your church? If so, what? Don't believe so, when I grew up going to church. What was the last stuffed animal you bought? Not sure. Maple trees, fir trees, or palm trees? Maple. Which biblical name do you prefer: Naomi, Esther, Rachel, or Joanna? Naomi, easily. I used to want to name my hypothetical daughter that. Which biblical guys name do you prefer: Seth, Jedidiah, Ezra, or Buz? Seth. Who is the hardest working person you know? MY. MOTHER. She works her fucking ASS off; I'd like to see most people handle even a single day in her life. Can you name any songs by Godsmack? A few: "No Rest For The Wicked," "Whatever," "Mama," "Voodoo," "Voodoo Too," "Hollow," "Time Bomb," "The Enemy," and... that may be it? What has been the most exciting moment of your life thus far? Meeting Sara. How deeply do you care for your education? Is it something you take seriously? I don't really know how to answer this. Like... I care, but I don't care enough to be competitive about it or obsess over it. I target for just being "enough." Would you prefer to go to a beach or to a park for a day, and why? What would you do? Park. The beach is too hot, windy, and I hate the feel of sand. Idk what I'd do at the park considering there are various kinds... What are five things you own in your favorite color? Tank top, iPod, uh... I'm blanking. Is your favorite clothing store close to your house or do you have to travel far? The nearest one is like an hour away. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ ‘hehe’ or something else? The former. Do you have any unusual skills? No. Do you have any bug bites right now? No. Do you like to look at other peoples’ houses? Sure, when riding by them. What’s the weirdest compliment you’ve ever received? Good question. Maybe my toes are cute? (They're fucking tiny.) Would you say you’re more witty or childish about jokes? Witty, I guess. What do you think about video games? One of the greatest technological achievements. Video games brought forth a new form of entertainment to enjoy, one that can hold someone's focus for hours and stay fun. They can also tell fantastic stories, just like reading a book or watching TV, and the more and more realistic in vision games are becoming, it just becomes easier with every game to feel more immersed in the universe. What would you, or do you, study at college? I'm going for zoology. Have you ever had, or wanted, a pet ferret? Oh my god in Heaven, yes. They are so damn cute; when Sara was here and we were in PetSmart for something, I actually started tearing up and squealing because of how GODDAMN PRECIOUS THEY WERE, like they all came up to the glass pawing at us, and watching them play was one of the cutest things I've ever seen. The only thing holding me back from getting one is the fact I know they are veeery messy and require a lot of care. Is there anything you find undeserving of the hype it received? Eh, don't feel like thinking about this. In other words, idk and idc. Do you think it’s better to label yourself than be labelled? Who cares, honestly. Don't restrain yourself with a label, and what others see in you and you following along with it solely because of that is naive. What’s something you do a lot? Over-evaluate anything and everything, because my OCD has been an absolute beast for the longest time. Are you currently on any other websites? Twitch and deviantART are open. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? YES. I have done this since like... late middle school or earlier when the hair to the right of my part covered my eye. My mom points it out all the time, and no matter how many times I've tried to unlearn it, I can't do it. My head physically feels weird if I straighten it. When was the last time you laughed at someone? Some time earlier when I was watching Mark play GTA. Do you have any projects on the go right now? I started a massive YouTubers video with "High Hopes" over a month ago, and now I haven't touched it since the day I started lmao. Do you, or did you, really look forward to when you can finally move away? Eh... yes and no. I really question my ability to be that independent. What’s the worst tattoo you’ve ever seen? Who knows. What’s your favorite name ever? Alessandra. Are you a hat person? No. Have you ever forgotten how to do something simple? Ha, yeah. Have you ever been hit on by somebody way too old for you? Possibly an old family friend; he had this thing for being REALLY flirtatious with my older sister, and then me sometimes as I got older. We were never alone with him or anything, I mean he did it right in front of our mother and dad (he fucking loathed him because of it, probably still does), so we think he was joking? Have you ever climbed a chain-link fence? Yes. Have you ever had to run from the cops? No. Do you know anyone who is constantly humming? No? Are you afraid of any specific animals? I mean the usual insects and spiders, then there's the few more unusual ones such as SLUGS, MAGGOTS, larvae in general really, whale sharks, worms... probably others that aren't coming to me. Did anything comical happen to you today? No. Are you any good at fussball? Not especially. Who do you usually dream about? Jason is most often in the ones I actually remember. Yay. It made sense when I wasn't even beginning to heal, but now that I am and I STILL have them despite having fully and entirely moved on, I finally just asked my mother if it was normal, which apparently it is extremely common with even "recovered" PTSD victims. Shoulda asked/looked it up way sooner... Do you visit your dentist as often as you should? Yeah, thanks to Mom. She always ensures I stay updated with medical exams/appointments. I'm lucky as hell to have her here to keep my life straight. Do you still have a teddy bear? Maybe in the bags in the attic? Did you get any Girl Scout cookies this year? No. They don't come here. What’s your favorite fairytale? Bitch Shrek don't even @ me it's a fucking fairytale. Do you apologize when you know you should? Usually. In most cases, I feel overwhelming guilt otherwise. Do apologies really make anything better? Sometimes, to a degree. Can other people tell when you’re high? I've never been high. Do you own a birdcage? No. Have you ever planted anything? Yeah. Have you ever been blackmailed into doing anything? No. What eyeshadow color looks best on you? I only ever wear black. Can you tolerate small children? jfc no. In almost any situation. Even my niece and nephew, I can't be around them but for so long without getting burnt out or aggravated. What’s the stupidest behavior humans partake in? Holy sweet mother of The Lord God Almighty- Have you ever seriously considered suicide? Yeah. Did you ever hit anything while learning to drive? I like... immediately hit a curb lmao, and I STILL can't turn past them without the risk of running over it. It's one of the things that's holding me back from getting my license yet. Which movie’s musical score is truly memorable? UM, The Lion King??????? Hurry the FUCK up July. Which TV show theme music do you remember most? That '70s Show. Have you ever bounced any checks? I've never even used a check... How many speeding tickets have you been given? None. Not that I drive a lot. First kiss: quick, sloppy, and forgettable or passionate and memorable? It was fucking adorable and definitely memorable. I don't care how I feel about him now, that's a little event I'll always remember and cherish. Jeff Foxworthy, Bill Engvall, Ron White, or Larry the Cable Guy? OH GOD what was that stand-up show with just them? I LOVED that back as a teen. I don't know who I liked most, but probably Jeff or Bill. I do know Ron was my least favorite, but he wasn't bad. How many bills do you pay online? I'm a 23-year-old "adult" who doesn't have bills. What’s the highest score you ever bowled? Hell if I remember. Nothing impressive. What’s your definition of a good, full breakfast? The "perfect" picture is like pancakes, scrambled cheesy eggs, and bacon. Whats your favorite flavor of jam? Of what I've tried, I only like grape. Are you a fast runner? I can't even TELL you the last time this bitch ran. At school was is/was the main reason you get/got in trouble? It was never severe trouble, just a quick word, but Jason because we'd always hug and usually just exchange a peck in-between going to classes; both were no-nos in our shit school, and the hall monitors or whatever would tell us not to if they saw, buuut we didn't listen. Hell, I think maybe hand-holding was against the rules too, which I know we didn't abide by if that was present. Do you make your views heard or do you hide in the background? It depends. I'd say heard more often, maybe? Do you have many friends from foreign countries? No. Can you open your mouth very wide? No. You know those things at the dentist where you have to bite down straight onto them for an impression of your molars? If the dentist was considerate enough, I'd use the one for older children instead of adult because I canNOT fully bite down on the normal ones without it being incredibly painful and I gag like mad to the point I inevitably tear up. What was the reason for your last x-ray? My knees were being checked with all the horrible pain I'd been dealing with from them. Did you have a rebellious phase growing up? Not for the sake of being rebellious, no. I only had such streaks (and still do) when I saw/see them appropriate to the situation. What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic. What is the most common name where you live? I dunno. Elizabeth, maybe? Actually just looked it up for the hell of it and what I found first says William (which I can absolutely believe) and Ava (which I question?). When something really scares you, what’s your immediate reaction? Jump, gasp, and either dash or stare at whatever the source is like a deer in headlights. Does it bother you to be around people who are smoking? Yes. How much time do you spend on the phone a day? Not long at all. I check Instagram usually at least once, and I don't follow a lot at all. Sometimes I check Facebook on my phone, but I usually do on my laptop now. That doesn't take very long, either. Your favorite song lyrics right now: "What I do know is come Judgment Day, I followed love; can you say the same?" from "Natural Born Sinner" by In This Moment. Do you think it’s possible for a rap song to make you cry? Ever heard "Runaway Love" by Ludacris & Mary J. Blige? Bitch you bet it makes me wanna cry. Name three books that have actually made you cry [really cry not a few tears]: I don't think I've ever gone beyond just a few tears, really. The Notebook probably was the hardest on me, though. Or Old Yeller. Idr. Is it easy to annoy you? Maybe. Do you watch musicals? If so, which is your favorite? If not, why not? No, because they make me cringe into a new dimension. Do you wear short shorts & tanktops in the summer? You will never see me in shorts, and I wear tank tops like... always. Always to bed, at least. Does the idea of having a baby at your age scare you? Having a baby period does. No fucking thanks. Do you remember who your best friend was in fourth grade? Quiata. Maybe still Brianna, idr. What band has the power to make you cry by splitting up? None. Is there anywhere in your house that you’re scared to be alone in? No. Any embarrassing/childish shows you secretly still enjoy watching? No. I don't watch TV period, but what I do like, BELIEVE THIS SHIT OR NOT, I'm not embarrassed. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital for a long period of time? I think the longest I was ever supposed to stay somewhere was three months, but that didn't actually happen. The longest I've actually been in a hospital was two weeks, give or take. Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? I'm not straight so obviously not. Name three things in your room that others probably don’t have in theirs: An iguana, a snake, and a rat. In the same general area lmao. What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? Nothing. If you could pull off any hairstyle, what would it look like? A pixie cut. The kind with the shaved sides. Besides furniture, what’s the biggest thing in your bedroom? Uhhh my snake's cage? Do you diet and exercise regularly? I do a 16-hour fast daily. What’s something that you think is really cute? Even though I don't want kids, I can't see men being really vibrant and cute with babies or toddlers without just alksdfjioawer Would you rather donate time, blood, or money? Hm. I feel like ultimately, money would be most beneficial in the majority of cases? Can grills be sexy on a guy? They are incredibly unattractive on anyone. Are braces cute? Not particularly, but they're not like, unattractive. Unlike grills, they serve an actual purpose and aren't as obnoxious. Which of your friends makes you laugh the hardest? Girt. What brings out the worst in you? Being extremely stressed. I'm seriously snappy and irritable. Would you rather go to Canada or Mexico on vacation? Canada, probably. If you have glasses, do you get days when you don’t feel like wearing them? I don't think about it because I don't have a choice if I want to see. Do you ever wear hats indoors? I don't wear them period. Have you ever played bingo at an actual bingo hall? No. Have you ever pledged money to a Kickstarter and it reached its goal? If so, did you get any fun extra stuff because you pledged a higher amount? No. What’s your favorite comic book/graphic novel? I don't have one. What’s something you can do without looking/with your eyes closed? Type. Is there a color combination that holds a significance to you? If so, what is the combination and what does it mean? No. What was the last thing you swore at? I don't know. If you use Facebook, do you ever look at the Memories page? Ugh no. Let's not remind myself of dark times or more specifically cringy ones. Do you have a drawer where you just throw some random stuff? No. What’s the funniest shirt that you own? I don't find any really funny. What is something you absolutely refuse to pay for? Ummm "fancy" clothing brands, to name one of the top contenders. Has a stray/runaway cat or a dog ever followed you home? If so, what did you do with it? Maybe a cat? I don't think so, though. Is there a stranger you expect to see every day? No. What is something you take pride in? My recovery. What is something you have a lot of experience in? I guess photography? What’s the biggest magnet on your fridge? I don't feel like going to check. Do you prefer things (movies, books, etc) that scare you or make you laugh? Entertainment media rarely actually scares me, but I prefer "scary" stuff. Were you born with naturally straight teeth? Well, I had to get braces, so I would assume not? Do you try not to take a lot of medicine or do you take it whenever? I avoid OTCs when I can; I'm on enough prescribed stuff. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? Sour. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? No. Are fireworks illegal to buy where you live? The big ones, yes. People still go to Myrtle Beach on the SC side to buy them tho. Can you talk and work at the same time? No. Do you care more about yourself or more about others? This really depends on what the situation is... and my state of mind at the time. But I think usually myself? It used to be others, but I learned how unhealthy that can be. Do you find it easy to pass the time or do you get really bored? I get bored excruciatingly easily. How often do you re-watch/re-read things or are you more ‘once only’? I'm typically an "only once" person. What color ink do you prefer writing in? Black? Have you inherited any garments from your parents or grandparents? I don't think so. When was the last time you visited the doctor? Why did you go? Around a week ago to get my vitamin D re-checked. Have you ever been in a Catholic confessional? Yes. Who was the last non-relative you rode in a vehicle with? My VR coach. What movie are you looking forward to coming out? I will be seeing the live action TLK as fast as physically possible. What was the title of the last song you listened to? "God Hates Your Outfit" lmao. ^Who performs it? Jeffree Star. Can you do a backflip? No. Is your car newer than a 2004? I don't have my own car. Who is the lead singer of your favorite band? Ozzy Osbourne. How would you feel if you knew you were adopted? If I grew up knowing, I wouldn't feel much of anything new besides the fact I'd be grateful as hell someone chose me. If I just suddenly found out, I'd be inexplicably shocked and furious I was never told. Do you have freckles? No. Do you have dimples? Very clearly on my left cheek, and I have a super shallow one on the right that used to be more apparent. And I have back dimples. When was the last time you went fishing? When Sara was here in June last year. Do you know anyone with a pet that has your name? No. Do you expect to be married in the next 2 years? Most likely not. What was the last injury you received? Probably something from Roman playing. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yeah. Do you regret it? No. Do you ever get in weird moods and listen to music you normally hate? Very rarely I listen to pop from when I was a kid. How old is the oldest person you’ve dated? Well, we "dated" for less than a day, but idk. I'd guess he's 27-ish now? Have you ever tried a colorful macaroon? No. What’s the last thing you made out of clay? An anatomical heart, I think? Did you learn to type through a computer program for kids? Not really for kids? We took them in middle school, and they weren't like, super kiddy. How many years were you homeschooled? I never was. What color is the tree outside your window? Uhhh probably green? I don't wanna get up and look. What do you take for pain? Advil/Ibuprofen. Which pharmacy do you use? Harris Teeter. What is this month’s calendar picture? Don't have a calendar. Is there a coffee shop in your town that’s better than Starbucks? N/A Who has the best personality on YouTube? Shane Dawson's is probably the most universally likable, I think. Have you ridden your bike yet this year? I don't have one anymore. What does your bike look like? N/A Who are your favorite kids that you’ve babysat? I babysat only once and hated it. Not the kid, just the duty. Who is your favorite cousin? I don't have a favorite. Does one side of your family live in another state? Both sides do. What states did your parents grow up in? New York and Ohio. What, if anything, are you severely allergic to? Severely, nothing. Have you ever had an allergic reaction to an insect? No, thankfully. Do you spill food on yourself while you eat? Not often. What is a topic you like to answer questions on the most? Meerkats or Mark. Have you ever seen a queen bee outside its hive? I have no clue. Which Clue (or Cluedo) character is your favorite? I was always Miss Scarlet because even as a kid I knew she was hot stuff. Do you watch any old films? If so, name a few of your favorites. I don't really watch movies period. But a few I like are The Outsiders, Old Yeller, Johnny Got His Gun, A Raisin In The Sun, Steel Magnolias... lots of others, really. Just not many are coming to mind immediately. Who are some of your classic era film actors and actresses, if any? Idk. Do you have any novelty ice cube trays? No. Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? The only ex who I'm aware even loved me in the first place is Jason, and I probably wouldn't say anything. Got a very strong feeling my PTSD would literally erupt like goddamn Saint Helen and I'd leave the situation in the blink of an eye. I don't love him anymore, and I don't even know if I'd believe him telling me that now, but I know damn well it would fuck with me. Would you ever work at a movie theater? It sure as hell wouldn't be my first pick. At least here, they're grossly underpaid and overworked. Do you have a phone charger in your car? If you have a specific type of cord. Do you live far from your parents? I live with my mom. Dad's like... 20-ish minutes away, if that? Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? Mom is always with me. Do you like pineapple on pizza? Never tried, never want to. I can just about guarantee I would positively loathe it. Sweet and savory don't mix with me. Do you like to hold hands? With my s/o and I'm comfortable with them, yeah. What’s a show that you absolutely refuse to watch? 13 Reasons Why. How many times have you been in love? Twice. Do you remember how old you were when you started swearing? However old I was in the 7th grade. Last thing you cooked? Toaster strudels in the toaster oven. Movie you want to see? I wanna see the newest HTTYD soooo badly, but I doubt I'll get the chance while it's in theaters. Ever spent the night in a tent? Yeah. What do you call your grandparents? Grammy. The others are dead. Can you snap your fingers? Poorly with my right hand. Can you wink? Only with my right eye. How many keys do you carry with you? One. How well do you know the people you live with? Well, she's my mom and we're very close. Do you own any jerseys? No. Who knows your biggest secrets? Sara. Have you ever ran from your own parents? No. Are you afraid of clowns? No. Do you crack your knuckles? I physically can't, and besides, the sound is disgusting to me. Who IMed you on Facebook last? Girt. Could you see yourself dropping out of high school? I'm long out of high school, and I didn't. Do you have any personal fashion rules that revolve around your own preferences/body type (e.g., you never/always wear a certain color, sleeve type, or length of dress)? I don't wear shorts, tight shirts, dresses, skirts, crop tops, I wouldn't dare touch a romper, I highly doubt I'd wear yellow... just to name the ones that came to me immediately. Do you remember any celebrity whose style you admired when you were a teen? What do you think of that style now? YO Avril Lavigne was my emo model okay. She's still a queen. The last time you had a conflict with someone else, did you confront them about it or keep it to yourself? Do you think it would have been better or worse to do the opposite? Uhhh... I don't remember who this was. When you finally make a decision to do something you have been contemplating for a while, do you become highly anxious and motivated to do it right away? Yup. When you were a kid did you make up lies about your life to make yourself seem more interesting? Alternatively, did you know kids who told these stories and did you believe them? Bitch I made up that a talking wolf came to me and gave me animal powers and the rule was I could only tell three people. I was a fucking weird kid. I know others who have made things up, too. Can you think of a moment from your childhood that was totally “on brand” for you, or consistent with your adult personality? I'm sure there's something, but nothing's coming to me rn. Have you ever warned someone else about something, whether it was about a person in their life or an oncoming weather event? Yup, in numerous scenarios. So, is it "gif" with a hard G or soft G? I say both, but "jiff" more frequently. Is there a book or movie that you thought was about something completely different from what it actually ended up being about? What did you think it would be? Maybe... Is there an item that you bought on a whim, but now consider it a crucial part of your life and you would or have purchased it again? I have no clue.

[thetygre]

30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #24: Favorite ‘Monster’ Animal

This was kind of meant to be my list of favorite animals that are generally considered ‘creepy’ or ‘bizarre’. They might seem incredibly tame these day, but I still remember a time when things like pet snakes were ‘weird’, and I wanted to talk about them.

1.       Giant Squid

My favorite animal. A real life sea monster. I never thought that I would actually see one in my lifetime, even with all our modern technology. After the first monster challenge, we got our first clear recording of a giant squid swimming in a Japanese bay. Just that footage told us so much about them; how they swim, what they look like moving, the shape of their tentacles and mantle. Being squid instead of octopi, it’s unlikely that the Architeuthis Dux is particularly intelligent. But even still, looking into that giant eye, I couldn’t help but wonder; how much is going on in there? Does it know who we are? When it swims in the darkness of the Abyssal Zone, in a place that has never seen sunlight, will it remember us? It’s an exciting time for squid chasers, that’s for sure.

2.       Aye-Aye

The Aye Aye keeps making ‘weird animal’ lists, and I honestly don’t understand why. It’s adorable! It’s a kind of nocturnal lemur that specializes in eating tree grubs. There’s a lot of superstition surrounding the Aye Aye on Madagascar; it’s considered an unlucky animal, and its elongated middle finger is supposed to give bad luck. I have a fantasy book that starts on Not-Madagascar, and the lemur-folks’ corrupt priests are all Aye Ayes; the look so cute in their robes and wooden masks. The Aye Aye is just a scruffy, scraggly little tree goblin that wants to sleep all day and eat more bugs.

3.       Anglerfish

A wise man, a man who I think tumblr knows relatively well, once sang a song about an anglerfish, and that song got me through some hard times. Anglerfish are absolutely fascinating animals; aside from their individual biological adaptations that are common across the whole family, each anglerfish is incredibly unique. They are an incredible example of evolutionary diversity, especially given that they live in such an unforgiving environment. It’s hard to pick a single favorite anglerfish; bearded, hairy, football, wolftrap, glass, etc. But I think there’s something to be said for the classic black sea devil; basic shape, killer name, and everything you could want out of an angler.

4.       Spotted Hyena

I feel like hyenas are coming down from the ‘creepy/weird’ animal lists. The world is collectively realizing that hyenas are actually adorable, and do a lot more work than they’re given credit for. Even still, there’s something to admire in just how strange they are compared to other mammals. While they’re efficient predators in their own right, hyenas will always be known for being scavengers. And of course, there’s the folklore surrounding them; hyenas are witches’ familiars in West African superstition, and even medieval Europeans though of them as unnatural creatures in their bestiaries. But I’m glad that we can appreciated hyenas more fully now.

5.       Vampire Bat

Our representative bat is still the standard bearer for the ‘spooky’ animals. It’s hard to tell how long bats have been associated with evil and darkness in certain cultures; even before vampires became tied to them, they were thought of as ‘night creatures’, and the ancient Mayans even had the chthonic bat god Camazotz. But the contrast is just so broad when you actually look at the vampire bat. For starts, they’re tiny, like all members of the microchiroptera family; the average vampire bat can fit in the palm of your hand. They live in groups, and they actually share the blood they drink with their young. Even still, the vampire bat has enough features to keep it weird; its dietary habits are still unusual for bats, it spends an inordinate amount of time walking on the ground compared to other chiroptera, and it has to be said, it still has a face like a feral goblin.

6.       Ball Python

We now enter the ‘used in movies to represent more dangerous species but actually a cinnamon roll’ portion of the list. Ball pythons are definitely a favorite when it’s time to put a snake on camera; they can grow pretty big, and they look exotic enough to be mysterious. But like hyenas, I feel like enough people know at this point that your average ball python is about as threatening as a pair of socks. It’s always hilarious to me to see a ‘cunning’ or ‘dangerous’ snake get referenced and then the crew pulls out a python. What’s it gonna’ do; sleep at the hero to death? Out in the wild you still get the odd case of a constrictor getting the drop on someone, which is barely enough to edge pythons on the ‘man’s predators’ list, but even those cases are freakishly rare. In the end, pythons are your legless, furless alternative to the cat; sleepy, hungry, and in constant need of body heat.

7.       Red Knee Tarantula

Every movie’s favorite spider is the red knee tarantula. Their big, they look dangerous, and they’re striking color scheme makes them stand out. Of course, tarantulas are one of the most harmless family of spiders to humans; they’re a terror to anything smaller than your finger, but generally safe for people. Their venom isn’t enough to kill or even seriously injure a person, though their giant mandibles still give a nasty pinch. Honestly, a person is probably more at risk from the stinging hairs tarantulas release as a defense mechanism than their bite. While all tarantulas are fuzzy and loveable, I’m still fondest of the Mexican red knee just for its Halloween color scheme.

8.       Emperor Scorpion

Naturally, as a Scorpio, I feel some predisposition to scorpions. I always liked them a little bit more than spiders, and still think that they’re the cooler of the two arachnids. The scorpion is one of nature’s near-perfect animals, capable of surviving in the harshest of environments. They were earth’s first terrestrial predators, the original monsters, and hunted our ancestors in the prehistoric oceans. These days, you can buy them at your mall pet store for a pretty reasonable price and feed them crickets. The emperor scorpion is still my favorite species because of how big and bulky it is. Its venom is relatively harmless because its claws have evolved to tear through the armor of its prey, though to us it’s just a nasty pinch. The whole goth-lobster package is offset by a pair of cute beady eyes looking up at you, begging you to have mercy on your species’ old nemesis and not stomp on it so it can scuttle away.

9.       Black Vulture

It was a tough call in the bird department, but I feel like corvids and owls have gotten enough love now that we can start focusing on vultures. Vultures have an uphill battle, because stupid, ignorant people can’t appreciate how cool having anti-bacterial acid urine really is. Vultures are synonymous with barren places, true animals of the waste. They’re scavengers down to a ‘t’, and the go-to example for why scavengers are important to any ecosystem. While the Egyptian vulture is the most ‘vulturish’ and the bearded vulture the most MAJESTIC, my personal favorite is the good old black vulture. Black vultures have been in some weird and interesting places in my life, to the point that I’m starting to think of them as some kind of omen. An omen that says, “Oh boy, I get to see a vulture today!”

10.   Xoloitzcuntli Dog

So the xolo dog takes bottom place by virtue of being a dog, and therefore a spiritually pure being inhabiting an earthly vessel to guide mankind towards goodness. These days, xolos are pretty popular, but I remember a time when Americans generally didn’t know about them by and large. When they first showed up in American media, they were labeled as ‘the world’s ugliest dog’, and I remember a few people wondering if they had mange or were pictures of chupacabras. With social media, everybody now knows that xolos are adorable, if still kind of comparatively weird looking, canine friends.

[ty-exists]

friend

a thrilling conclusion for kit!

Brian walks up to Dan, who is watching Kit nap in a pile of blankets and pillows pulled from around the office. It’s almost the time they usually call it a day, but with Arin and Ross in their current state, that’s a bit hard to do. Dan looks at the older, grinning from ear to ear. “Look at ‘em, they’re adorable. Like a pillow dragon!”

Brian sighs. “I found the answer. For getting them apart.”

“Shit, really?” Dan smiles, although a bit of disappointment tinges his excitement. “What do we have to do?”

“Well, I’d texted Holly to let her know that Ross was in a bit of an issue, and I explained what had happened. She had me check back in the engineering room where we found them and turns out those glass shards were from a potion bottle, one of hers. Untested, unknown, and she’s betting Ross stole it to prank Arin and didn’t count on getting caught in the backsplash. I’m heading over to their place now to grab the antidote.” He looks at Dan, a serious look on his face. “Can you watch them while I do that?”

“Of course! I’m obviously the best people sitter ever. Plus, I doubt he’ll wake up, they’ve been out since I found that laser pointer.”

Brian nods, grabbing his keys. “Alright, okay. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Don’t fuck anything up.”

With that, he’s gone, leaving Dan alone with Kit. He exhales, sitting in Brian’s chair and watching the cat sleep. “I’m definitely gonna miss you, dude, you’re kinda fun to have around… and you’re super adorable, and—shit, I miss Arin and all, but… you’re still kinda him…”

He doesn’t notice the fusion’s eyes open, too lost in his rambling thoughts. He doesn’t notice them get up, slinking over to nudge their head under his hand. “Dan?”

Dan jolts out of his contemplation, looking down at the hybrid and stroking their hair as they seem to want him to. “Sorry I woke you, Kit.”

“Miss?”

“Oh, you heard that… yeah, I’m gonna miss you.”

“Not leave.”

“Brian found a way to get you to come apart, bring Ross and Arin back…”

“No. Not leave. Kit stay. Kit here.”

Dan sighs, scratching their ears. “You gotta, buddy, I’m sorry.”

“No.” Kit pulls away from the scratches, a look akin to disgust crossing their features. “No. Kit stay. Kit stay always.”

“Kit, we need Arin and Ross—”

“No!” They stand up, fur poofed up and making them seem bigger than they really are. “Arin, Ross, me! Same! Kit!”

“Just rel—”

Kit bares his teeth and growls at Dan, pupils reduced to feral slits. “No!”

The taller man gets up, trying to pull Kit into a hug, but the cat just shoves him away. “Kit, please, I’m sorry—”

“Dan hate!” They’re crying, tears soaking into the soft fur around their eyes. They don’t just look angry, they look hurt. “Why?! Why Dan hate? Thought like!!”

“I-I do like you, Kit, I do!”

“No! Liar! Only like parts!” They scrub at their face, trying to stem the flow of tears.

“That’s not true!” Dan steps forwards again, only to be met with a clawed hand swiping at his face and dragging down his cheek, leaving angry red scratches behind. The shock of being hit has him stumbling back, clutching his face and staring at Kit with wide eyes.

The hybrid realizes what they’ve just done, eyes as wide as Dan’s, if not wider. There’s a difference in the two eyes now, more than the color, like…

Like two different people are staring at him from within.

“I-I’m so sorry…” The hybrid chokes the apology out, before turning and running from the room with their tail literally between their legs.

Dan stands in shock for a moment before grabbing his phone. He’s barely aware of the trickle of blood down his cheek, of the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the building. Could have been a closet door, or maybe the main door, who knows? He slowly dials a number, holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello? Dan? Don’t need to be so impatient, I got the antidote from Holly.” Brian seems tired, likely from dealing with a tall fluffy three-year-old and Kit all day.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. You know we need Arin and Ross apart.”

“They’re gone.”

The line is silent for too long. “What?”

“They’re gone…. I… I mentioned coming apart and they freaked out… Kit slapped me and scratched my face and they just fucking ran, Brian… I don’t know if they’re even still in the building…”

“Okay… okay.” Brian audibly takes a breath, pushing down his own feelings about this. “We can find him. I’m sure there aren’t many cat fusions running around the city.”

“I’m sorry, Bri, I shouldn’t have—”

“You had no way of knowing they’d react like that, so don’t beat yourself up. Start checking the office, he might still be there. I’ll drive around the area and see if I can’t find him out here.”

“What if… what if someone else finds them first, and they get sent to the pound or some lab or…” Dan trails off, starting to be overcome by his fear that he’s going to be the reason they never see Arin and Ross again, as Kit or apart.

“Don’t think like that, Danny. We’ll find them. And then we’ll get our boys back. Get looking, I’ll start looking too.”

“Okay.” Dan hangs up, staring at the floor for awhile before finally convincing himself to stand and start his search.

Searching the office yields no sign of the cat, and Dan hasn’t heard anything from Brian about finding him outside. Worst case scenarios of Kit being used as a sick science experiment flash through his mind, up until he hears soft crying as he passes by Arin’s office.

The one place he’d forgotten to check.

Pulling out his phone to text Brian takes only a second, and then he’s pushing the door open gently. Fabric ruffles around, and at first glance, no one is in there. Dan sighs, thinking he’s been tricked, until he sees two eyes shining at him from under the desk. Quietly, he pushes the door shut, sitting against it. “Hey, Kit… I see you there… come over here if you want, I promise not to do anything.”

A veritable eternity passes before the cat pulls himself out of the cramped hiding spot, laying across Dan’s lap as hiccups wrack their lean body.

Dan’s fingers curl in their soft fur, scratching gently along their shoulder. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to… but I do care about you… I just miss Arin and Ross… and I’m gonna miss you too, ‘cause we need them back…”

Kit sniffles, sitting up to hug Dan and bury their face in his shoulder. “Didn’… didn’t mean hurt… just… scared…”

“What are you scared of, little buddy?”

They shrug, shaking their head. “Scared… cause love you. Don’ wanna go…”

Dan smiles a bit, softly kissing their head. “I love you too, Kit, don’t get me wrong. But I love Arin and Ross too, they’re my best friends.”

“Kit… Kit best friend?”

“You’re my best friend too, Kit. Always.”

They smile at him, starting to purr as Dan scratches their back. “Kit come back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Kit… Kit need… break. But… come back? Later?” They look up at Dan, tilting their head ever so slightly.

“If Arin and Ross are up for it, absolutely. I’d love to have you back to visit.”

They seem satisfied with this and nod, tail lazily flicking through the air. A soft knock sounds from behind them, and Dan scoots the two of them away from the door. Brian comes in with a small green bottle in his hand, breathing a sigh of relief as he sees the two. Kit looks at the bottle, then at Brian and Dan.

“Kit ready.”

“You sure, buddy?” Dan is sad to see them go already, but he knows this needs to happen.

“Yeah.” They reach up to Brian, pulling him into a hug too. “Grumpy. But nice.”

Brian chuckles, kneeling by them and pulling the stopper from the bottle. “Holly said to just pour it on them, it’ll break them apart.”

Kit nods, giving a tiny wave to Dan, even though they haven’t moved from his lap. The concoction is poured into Kit’s hair, soaking in and smelling of fresh pie. They grin and move to hug Dan again, and he hugs back as a glow overtakes them.

Then, he’s hugging Arin, with Ross squished between them. Ross is still clothed the same as when they fused, but Arin’s shirtless now. Thank god he’s still wearing his shorts. Well, Brian and Ross are thanking God. Especially Ross, given his current position.

Arin looks up at Brian, a half-amused smile crossing his face. “’Hewwo?’ Seriously? You taught us to say ‘hewwo’?”

Ross snickers. “I wish he’d taught us more than that.”

Arin swats Ross’ shoulder, shoving him out of the hug so he can cuddle against Dan. “I can’t believe you tricked me like that, Ross. I should have known nibs don’t snap.”

The younger shrugs with a big grin on his face. “But you fell for it anyway! And you can’t tell me that wasn’t fun.”

“…Okay, maybe I can’t. But you’re still an asshole.”

“I accept that title.”

Brian rolls his eyes, guiding Ross out. “Your wife is pissed about you taking her potions for pranks, you might want to go deal with that before she hexes your dick off.”

Dan chuckles, turning back to face Arin, who has a sly grin. “So, you love Kit?”

The older man stammers, face going bright red, as the other just laughs and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. “You think I care? I was in that body with Ross, and he was in the whole loving thing too. Not a big deal.”

“You… you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’d be cheating on you… with you… by telling him that.”

Arin rolls his eyes. “Platonic love is a thing, Avidan. A great thing.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, you love me anyway, Hanson. Now kiss me again, I’ve been missing your smooches all day.” Dan grins, puckering up exaggeratedly.

Arin just shoves his face playfully before kissing him.

[fluxofthemouth]

thinking about what Piter’s house might be like, & more about his living situation in general -

- ‘modern’ architecture, like angles and boxes and glass kind of vibe

- not a megamansion or anything like that, but like a big house with a big yard that’s also within driving distance of the capitol city where the Baron’s castle is, & costs an absurd amount for all of those reasons

- (my starting point for the vibe is B.ojack H.orseman’s house lol)

- part of a neighborhood, but the neighbors are too modern and rich, & spaced too far apart, to really talk to each other much

- (Piter expects on principle that his fellow posh neighbors resent him for living among them when he’s kinda feral & has a lot of blood on his hands, and that’s completely true for most if not all of them)

- geothermal heating, because Giedi Prime is an industrial world that ruined a lot of its ecosystem and has a lot of volcanoes. maybe there’s a utility room that’s like, a control panel & a reinforced glass floor over a lava pit.

- he’s got a number of completely functional “decorative” weapons on display, so he can relax a little when he’s at home & not have to worry about carrying around knives etc.

- he might have a few other properties in other places?? he’s pretty damn rich if he can afford all of that spice (though I feel like maybe 30% of his spice supply comes from flat out stealing from work bc there’s a lot of it there & it’s just so easy). and he’s so completely full of rage about being treated like tech and not being properly appreciated that he WOULD walk away from it all if he wasn’t getting something completely ridiculous in return.

- what else does he spend all that money on... he also has at least 1 nice car. and I’m making up that he owns/sponsors a race horse (which he doesn’t see in person very often bc stables are dirty & he’s very rich and busy)?? I’m trying to imagine what the horse race betting scene might look like in the Dune universe, where a trained Mentat can calculate probabilities with computer-like precision, & you can also catch a glimpse of the future if you can afford the spice (but wouldn’t that be so expensive that it isn’t worth it if you bought spice just for that?). I think he’s pretty active in the horse racing world as like a hobby, and it’s not his main source of income but he finds that he can be reasonably good at it without having to work very hard, which pisses off a whole lot of people who did put in the work (which is satisfying in its own right).

- meanwhile Baron Harkonnen owns the entire damn planet that Piter’s little acorn stash of treasure is located on, & the emperor owns the damn galaxy, so what does it even mean to be ‘rich’ when some other guy can own a planet or a galaxy. Piter lives like a king compared to the lowest of the low, & he lives like a tiny little bug compared to the highest of the high. he might slip into any role that feels useful at the moment (heartless rich jackass, small creature scurrying around a rich man’s table). Also, it’s crystal clear to him that his wealth is as temporary as his usefulness, and he knows his dignity won’t permit him to play the creeping math creature role for forever. While he isn’t completely unaware of his wealth and the power that comes with it, he sees it as more of a startling and incredible phase of life he gets to enjoy for a while, rather than a permanent state of being that gives him an edge in the long term. Like the brief window of time where P.ac M.an gets to eat the ghosts. There’s real sense in this perspective, but (not out of character for a villain!) he still has a tendency to perceive his situation as more poor and pitiful than it actually is, all things considered. He spends so much time around nobility (expected to literally store the details of their lives in his physical memory and mind) that it can be hard to get an accurate perspective.