#Duncan pointed out too the other day when it was playing how good a line 'nowhere to run when you're hiding from the truth' is

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: December 14

“He Set Her Off” by Emily Ann Roberts

[minnie-cai]

i saw your art x physical therapist and tashi x makeup artist post and i know you’ll understand what im about to say: being a trainer/ makeup artist/ something along those lines and hooking up w two of your clients. is it a little unethical?? maybe, but you’re a grown up, and you can do what you want! and you really like both of them and they bring very different things to the table. but at the donaldson x duncan home, both art and tashi are having affairs and trying to keep it a secret from the other person and failing pretty hard. little do they know, they’re hooking up w the same person: you. and maybe, just maybe, they’re falling for you a bit. thoughts? feelings?

holy fucking shit i was smiling and nodding while reading this. yeah. yeah, you GET IT💜 i’m so writing something full-length about this about this but until then, have some thoughts.

not proofread, just shitposting. also, not a hairdresser. i can’t even braid hair. if you are one and throughout my thoughts on this scenario i fuck up, please correct me.

I think with Tashi it would be pretty quick with the physical aspect and emotional connection would come into play later.

She starts connecting to you when she realizes you’ve done something small for her that she doesn’t pay you for. Don’t get her wrong, she knows Art loves her and he’d bend over backwards for her approval and validation but he is too caught up in how miserable their routine is to keep noticing details about her. Art is her husband who had been pining over her for years but you know her coffee order and it’s on your table by your next appointment, casually waiting for her to take it, not making a big deal out of it. She tilts her head a bit and furrows her eyebrows, thinking of whether or not she’d asked her assistant for coffee but soon enough you emerge from your break with a small smile, untangling the cable of your flat iron.

“Morning, Mrs Duncan!” You beam and she gives you a small nod, clearly caught up in sizing the plastic cup because she feels like she’s gone insane. “I hope it’s not wrong.” You chime in on her thoughts, as if reading her mind. “You ordered this?” She asks pointing to the drink and raises her eyebrows when you nod, an almost repressed but impressed expression on her face. “Well, thanks.” She mumbles taking a sip and her spot on the chair, sitting in the same place she did every time.

She wouldn’t admit it but she feels a bit bad when people take her stand-offish attitude personally. She doesn’t like it when they change their personality to be quieter or less sociable around her just because she wasn’t very talkative or was particularly professional, she felt like they had no backbone, that they were fragile to be affected by whether she approves of their behaviour or not. She enjoys the fact that you don’t. You’re still sweet as sugar and by that point you’ve just figured her out. In contrast to Art, she likes to spend her appointments quiet as you pamper her and hum. It gives her time to think peacefully, even with your humming.

On the other hand, Art sees you as a break from life.

When he comes in and he sits in that chair in front of you and starts talking about something random like the music you have on, his brain is empty. It’s like for the first time in so long he doesn’t have to think about anything else. The next time he’s doing his warm up before training, he’s listening to the songs you recommended to him instead of the brown noise his trainer has said he should listen to in order to focus and it feels good to add a little something of you in his day, it feels like color in his sad, beige gym and boring green juice.

[traintrainingmontage]

I can't believe I wasn't already following you, that's mad! Well, I've changed that now. As an idea, maybe Sir Handel and peter Sam listening to Duke's stories?

Hahahahaha, thank you, Val!! ✨️ And YES, I can do that! Sir Handel and Peter Sam may love stories, especially their Granpuff's, but perhaps not all of Duke's stories are meant for them to hear...

(Want to submit a prompt of your own? Details here!)

Duke arriving on the Skarloey Railway after so many years of being a less-than-willing bergentrückung was a cause for celebration. Sir Handel and Peter Sam had been ecstatic to see their Granpuff again, and even though it was a little odd becoming reacquainted after how many years they'd been apart, the warmth of his smile and his joy at seeing them brought them both a nostalgia and a comfort they hadn't known they'd wanted until just then. However, the two now had their own stories to share, proof of their own growth since joining the railway, and the laughter that arose from those long nights was music to the ears of every engine in the shed (even Duncan, although he would never admit it).

As such, one quiet evening about a month after Duke had officially begun working on the railway, Peter Sam and Sir Handel found themselves simmering comfortably in their berths near the left side of the shed, waiting for him to come back. Their crews had gone to speak to the manager, so they had a little bit of steam left in them still, and the two of them were using it to stretch their wheels and get comfortable. They even had the gift of a relatively empty shed as the rest of their band of brothers were still out and about.

"Oooooh, I hope we can get some good tales out of Granpuff tonight," Peter Sam giggled, a slight note of tiredness in his voice from a day full of work well done, but even that wasn't enough to dampen his enthusiasm. "It's been so nice hearing his stories again."

"I know what you mean," Sir Handel grinned back, in an equally good mood. His disposition had improved considerably with Duke around, to the point that the others had taken to teasingly (albeit kindly) commenting on it. "That said," he mused, his good cheer giving way to something more pensive, "do you feel as though he's still treating us like we're new builds?"

"Mmm... a little bit, I suppose," Peter Sam considered, "but I don't know that I mind too much. It's how he's always acted around us."

"Well, I don't like it," Sir Handel pouted. "We're respectable engines now, and he should respect us as such!"

"Just give him time," Peter Sam soothed. "He hasn't seen us in so long, and he's missed so much. We might be the only ones who can give him any sense of being grounded."

After a few more minutes, the two little engines spied a familiar shape pulling into the yard. Peter Sam was about to whistle a greeting, when all of a sudden, the other engine turned and headed for a siding next to the shed, seemingly the one just outside. "Wasn't that Granpuff?" Sir Handel hedged, somewhat unsure if his eyes were playing tricks; after all, Duke always whistled when he came in.

"I think so...?" Peter Sam murmured, just as confused. Adding to their confusion was the sudden appearance of another engine, who gave a quick peep peep! of greeting before following Duke. Soon after, four vaguely human shapes left from that same direction, also heading for the office. "That was Rheneas," Peter Sam observed, "and those people were his and Duke's crews." His brows furrowed in thought. "I wonder what they're doing over there..."

"...I'm going to go find out," Sir Handel replied, his lips pressed into a thin, determined line. "C'mon, Peter Sam. Let's go."

"Wait, what?" the other engine blurted, eyes going comically wide at the absurd suggestion. "But... no! Sir Handel, that's eaves... ease... um... easydropping! We can't do that!"

"And why not?" Sir Handel retorted hotly, already calling upon what steam he had left to inch his way forward, trying to get close enough to listen in on the elders' conversation. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's got to be interesting! Besides, we're not new builds anymore; even Granpuff has to see that. We deserve to know if something's going on."

"Mmm... alright. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

Without further ado, the two crept forward, hoping that the ambient noise of the yard would cover up their approach. Finally, the two managed to get into a decent position, where they could vaguely make out Rheneas and Duke staring out into the darkling sky.

"--But that's just it, Rheneas," Duke hummed pensively. "They've grown up so much, and yet, there's so much I don't want to tell them. Do they even remember the worst of the old days?

"They look at me and see the nostalgia, the times that I came through for them, but I fear that if I tell them what really happened, they'll remember all of the terrible times, the ones that they've blocked out. How could I do that to them?"

"Well, I can't say that I've been in your wheels," Rheneas replied somberly, "but they're both good engines. Sir Handel especially has grown up a lot. You've heard it in their stories, haven't you? They can look back at their own failings and see the humor in them, instead of being embarrassed. It's not my place to say, but keeping it from them instead of letting them work through it with your support might not be a decision for you to make."

"...

"...Let me tell you a story, Rheneas," Duke began, a weariness in his tone that Peter Sam and Sir Handel had never heard before, not in all of their years of working with their Granpuff. "Back on the Mid-Sodor, there were a few of us working the line. Our No. 5 was a good sort, but he could be... foolish.

"One day, he made a mistake. He was to pull an enthusiast train, but left behind a coach. Notably, this was a coach for highly important guests. I ended up pulling the coach myself and it was rebranded as a Special, but the manager knew the truth. He punished him terribly by..." Duke paused a moment, and while his granchuffs couldn't see his expression, the sorrow in his voice couldn't be denied. "...They splashed him with industrial acid. His screams rang in my ears for days."

Peter Sam's eyes flitted over to Sir Handel, who was staring at Duke and Rheneas with disbelief before his gaze slid back to meet Peter Sam's. "Do you remember that?" he mouthed, and Peter Sam's face seemed to crumple in on itself.

"Not at all."

However, their attention quickly returned to the two older engines as the conversation resumed. "Is it right?" Duke asked plaintively. "Is it right to afflict that upon them? I can see how much they've grown, but is it fair to remind them of the horrors they don't remember?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer," Rheneas sighed, "but again, it may not be up to you. After all... most stories, whether you like it or not, tend to attract an audience."

"What do you--" At Rheneas' words, Duke instinctively turned to look around, only for his gaze to land on his two granchuffs.

Three sets of eyes widened in horror, followed by an extended silence. None of the engines seemed to know where to start, the quiet almost suffocating in its entirety.

However, after a long moment, Rheneas sighed and let out a long whistle. The sound of footsteps soon echoed from behind them, and eight confused humans suddenly assembled before the engines. Before any of them could even begin to ask what was wrong, the older engine began: "Please put me up, and let Peter Sam and Sir Handel sit with Duke. They have some things to talk about."

The various engine crews shared some glances, but did as they were asked, and soon enough, Duke was flanked by his granchuffs, all of them settled on the sidings with a promise from their crews that they would be back soon.

Finally alone, the three ex-Mid Sodor engines looked out upon the expansive sky, now featuring a shining moon attended to by a number of glittering stars. It was beautiful, certainly, but the feeling was rather diminished by the growing shadow of awkwardness between them. At long last, it was Sir Handel who broke the silence. "Granpuff... please tell us. Please tell us the stories you couldn't tell us before."

His demeanor, usually so insistent, was instead respectful in its softness, his words a quiet request rather than an imperious demand. On Duke's other side, Peter Sam let out a quiet noise of agreement. "Yes, please. We can handle it."

Duke said nothing for a few moments, but finally, a tremulous voice escaped him. "I shouldn't be surprised that you both were listening in, but... are you sure? Are you sure that you want to know? There are so many things better off forgotten. I didn't want to tell you for your sakes, certainly, but also, perhaps... for mine."

Sir Handel, earlier so full of conviction, suddenly found himself faltering, but he felt obligated to answer the question anyway. "We've... we've grown up, Granpuff. We've learned so much here. And if there's anything I've learned, it's that forgetting only makes things worse. If you forget, nothing is learned."

"He's right," Peter Sam chimed in. "We know how much you love us, Granpuff, but neither of us remembered what you told Rheneas. Even so... I think we should know. We can't run away from that which scares us."

The silence continued when suddenly, Duke seemed to shiver, and a single, crystalline tear dripped down his cheek. "Oh, my boys... when did you two grow up so well?"

Gentle chuckles escaped his granchuffs as they stared at him affectionately, and at last, Peter Sam asked the most important question. "Granpuff... won't you tell us a story?"

Duke let out a shaky sigh, but managed to crack a tired smile. "Alright, alright. They won't all be nice, but... perhaps they're still worth telling."

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

[sp00kworm]

SIREN (AMMB): Zadok’s Ending

Chapter 1: Meeting the Band

Pairing: Deep Sea Merman (Zadok) x Gender Neutral Reader

Adult Content below the cut. Dom Reader and collar use.

---

---

A lithe looking figure was draped in oversized clothing. Loose cuffed cargo trousers were covered in chains and topped with a large hoodie and a coat which made your own look positively thin. You frowned before you caught sight of the pale, micro-scaled skin underneath. The white scales shimmered with pearlescence as Zadok glanced around behind himself and touched the water pumps attached to his neck, which were then coupled to a small tank fastened like a backpack to him. There was a sense of worry in his posture as he reached for his wallet to order.

“A chai tea please. And an anchovy sandwich to go.” He ordered quietly as the barista noted it down and carefully took his money, trying to avoid staring to badly at the suction cups and tank attached to him. Zadok ignored her look and stood to the side, pulling his hood further over his fins to avoid any more unwanted attention from the customers and staff. It was weird seeing the confident lead singer to upset and shy about being seen in public. Your staring, however, got you caught firmly in the act. With a rush you turned back to your phone, and pretended not to be looking as his white eyes caught you. A huff sounded but he didn’t move to come and say anything. He turned back to the counter and opened his phone, clawed webbed fingers typing across the keyboard.

 Sadly, and awkwardly, you turned back to your table and waited for your food, trying to put Zadok out of you mind. He didn’t owe you anything after all, you were just a fan of the band. The barista was quick to make his drink before she packaged and wrapped his sandwich for him in the red and white plaid paper.

“Thank you.” He rumbled as he took the food and paper cup, “Have a nice day.” Zadok’s webbed fingers adjusted the wrapped sandwich before he tucked it into his satchel and placed his wallet firmly back inside. The singer reached upwards, his pale skin flashing with purple light, to adjust the cups over his gills. They didn’t budge, and so he walked away from the line, his hood up and his head ducked as he headed towards the door, leaving with a soft ring of the bell. You ducked over your food as he turned to walk left, past the glass window you were sat next to. He stopped just outside of the door and pulled something out of his pocket as he sipped at the tea in his hand. You realised it was his phone and as he raised it closer to his eyes you ducked back down to avoid being seen, sipping your own drink before your phone vibrated on the table again.

 Thinking it was just another text from Tom, you opened the screen with a disappointed sigh, upset that Zadok had ignored you. The screen lit up again and you clicked your tongue at the incessant buzzing. A message, but not from an account that you knew, nor did you follow them. It was a picture of a figure huddled by a cliff as the profile icon, decked in all black and shielding themselves from the wind. The water looked choppy and you saw the faintest hint of waves in the background. With a confused look, you opened the message.

‘Sorry for ignoring you.’

The second message was not twenty seconds after the first.

‘This is Zadok by the way. Don’t start gawking out of the window at me please.’

Slightly rude, you thought as you looked closer at the obscure profile icon, wondering just how the weird, huddled mass of black could be the singer. Your phone buzzed again before you could give it much thought.

‘Meet me by the Elf fountain.’

 You looked up from your phone as the Merman tugged his hood a little higher and tucked his hands into his pockets again. You didn’t see him then as he disappeared into the mid-morning crowds beyond your sight. With a rush you finished up your food and took your coffee to go before you made your escape out of the café and into the street. The Elven fountains weren’t too far from the café and you were eager to know just why Zadok had even spoken to you at all. The fountains were fresh water and housed a few species of pond fish, usually Koi kept for decorative appeal in the gardens. A car slammed its horn at you as you dashed across the crossing at the last moment heading towards the park where the fountains were.

 It didn’t take you long to weave your way through the streets and it took even less time for you to manage to find Zadok. He was perched on the edge of the fountain, his feet beneath the cool water. You were sure it wasn’t allowed but none of the busy workers seem to be bothered by the man as he trailed them back and forth. His heavy work boots were shoved by the side of the stone, his socks tucked into each boot. You stood by the gate to the little fountain area for a moment before white eyes turned and found you staring. Zadok pulled a hand free from his pocket to give you a small wave, claws flashing a silvery colour in the light.

“Good morning.” he offered as you approached, his voice soft and calm despite your obvious staring from the gateway.

“Good morning.” You replied, feeling awkward and caught out by his kind greeting, “So…”

Zadok chuckled at you as he pulled his feet up onto the stone, perching his head on top of his knees, “So…” he replied.

“Why did you invite me here?” You asked quietly as Zadok brushed water from his webbed feet, avoiding his other filed claws on each of his toes, “You seemed well, pretty gloomy when you walked in.”

 Zadok just watched you for a moment, his ghostly eyes staring at you before his mouth stretched to reveal a wide smile full of thin, sharp teeth, “I tend to look like that when Duncan spends his night crushed against me instead of in his own bed.”

Suddenly, it was like the tension dissipated, like a lightning bolt and smashed right through it. Your tension seemed to evaporate, and you returned his smile, “I can see why that would make you upset.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe.” he chuckled, “I’m sorry for seeming like an utter creep, but I don’t…well I don’t much like public places. I get recognised and its just never much fun after that.”

“No, I understand, I’m just confused about how you uh…found my socials.” You asked as Zadok’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Ah. I see now.” he lowered his head and awkwardly played with the tops of his shoes, “I found the pictures. It wasn’t too hard to find considering the show was last night.” he confessed, “That’s my private account for family and friends.” Zadok reached for his phone and showed you the screen of his page, “I wanted to talk, if that’s alright with you?”

You stepped closer and sat down on the side of the fountain with the singer, “What do you want to talk about?” You smiled as you sat down, folding your hands in your lap as you tried to get comfortable against the stone.

 “It seems weird now that I think about it.” Zadok confessed as you sat next to him, your drink clutched between your two hands, “I just wanted to thank you for what you said yesterday. It really does mean a lot to have someone feel so strongly about our music.” You watched as he tucked his clawed, webbed hands away in his pockets before looking him in the eyes.

His white eyes were striking, and you struggled to reply immediately, “You don’t have to thank me for being honest. Your music is amazing, just like you’re an amazing singer.”

“It means more than you think.” He insisted as he reached for his own drink, and pushed aside a small plastic bag, “I’ve spoken to a lot of fans, and, trust me, not one of them has spoken like that. Not with such passion about it all.” he laughed softly as he leaned back to take a drink, revealing the water pumps over his gills. He caught you staring, “They’re more to stop me drying out and hacking on everyone. I find I really need them after shows. So much singing hurts my lungs, so I have to revert back a little.”

“I had no idea you had to breathe water too.” You marvelled at the gills again before turning your gaze back to his pale scale-skin face, “Wait…” You held up your hands, “You sing so much it actually hurts?”

“Now don’t worry yourself!” Zadok bumped your shoulder gently, “Its not bad. Just like human singers need rests from growling, I need my own rest and recuperation.” He chuckled again, “But it is much easier to sing with water, but its not something anyone but a Mer can understand well.”

 “Is that why you looked like you enjoyed the beginning solo so much? Because its easier to sing in the water?” You asked, curious and eager to pick Zadok’s brain.

He laughed at you before nodding, his hood sliding to reveal the pointed tip of one of his fins, “I’m surprised you noticed.” he held his drink in his lap, wiggling his wet toes in the cool air, “Its not just that its easier to sing, really…I was born in the ocean, even though my parents have long lived with humans. We still spend our early years in the deep black waters before integrating into society. I’ve always just loved the water. Its always brought me peace. Its like a veil on the audience so I can just be myself.”

“That seems like an odd way to start life, but the more I think about it the more I think it must be nice, to be just you and the water.” You sat back, your palms pressed into the rough stone as you looked at the water, “And I bet it made you an amazing swimmer.”

Zadok paused before laughing again, the noise gentle and soothing, like the sound of water in a stream full of pebbles, “It did make me a good swimmer, yes, but it also taught me a lot about our culture. It made me who I am.” he looked at his feet and the water in the tank gurgled quietly.

 Silence fell between you both again, and you sat looking at the little goldfish in the fountain as they swam around Zadok’s ankles and disappeared under the lily pads. It was serene. You looked up and soaked in the weak sun.

“I have one more question for you.” Zadok said.

You looked over to him, “What’s that?” You asked.

He looked around and leaned over, “Is there somewhere more, private than this?” he sighed, “I just…I’m sick of being recognised. I ran into a group of fans on my way here and had to sign a few things. I just…”

“Want a day away from it all?” You asked gently, “I think I have a place in mind.”

Zadok smiled at you, “You’re not planning to kidnap me, are you?” he joked as he took another drink of coffee.

“Me? Kidnap you?” You exaggerated, “I think I would have more luck catching one of these goldfish, and that’s a pretty slim chance!”

 Zadok laughed gently, like the sound of water over stone, and you stood from the fountain, holding your coffee as you waited for him to shake his feet dry and put his shoes back on. He looked at his socks and huffed before pushing them into his pockets, opting to instead carry his boots and walk barefoot through the grass.

“So, where do you have in mind?” he asked as he followed you, “Will I need my shoes on?”

You nodded at him, “You’ll need your shoes for now. The city might be okay but I’m pretty sure you’ll get glass in your feet if you don’t wear something.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s too fun. I can’t be having a day in the minor injuries unit.” Zadok followed you to the gate before he took his napkin from his coffee and wiped off his feet. He hopped on each foot as he put his sock on and then his boots. Quickly, he tied the laces up before he checked his wrist. A silver watch flashed, and he hummed at the time.

“Have you got somewhere to be?” You asked.

Zadok shook his head as he clicked the sound off his phone, “Nope. Let’s get going.” he pulled his hood back up and hid his face as you exited the park and headed out towards the city’s edge.

 “I suggest you keep your stuff close.” You suggested as you both entered into a small, abandoned area of the city. It was overgrown and the small homes here were derelict, with ivy and bushes sprouting out of the windows and collapsed roofs.

Zadok looked up through the trees, “What kind of place is this?” he asked quietly as you both stepped around a couple of mushroom circles.

“It’s a fae pool. A spirit pool of sorts.” You pointed past the houses towards a large clearing where a natural pond glittered with the light pouring through the centre hole of the canopy, “Its protected by the city for small fae and creatures to use and live in. Some species can’t integrate with humans, so these are the result.” You pointed to the rocks where a nymph combed her hair. She turned and saw you both, smiling before she blended into the air and disappeared into a small creek that trickled away from the large pond with a chime of laughter.

 “This is amazing.” Zadok breathed as he ran his claws over a rotten wooden fence, touching the ivy which wrapped around them gently, “I’ve never seen something like this before, not unless it was in the actual countryside.”

You smiled brightly as you reached the edge of the water, “Well, its something a lot of people don’t know about. I only know because of the guy I work with. He comes out here sometimes during shifts.”

“Is that the one that was with you last night, the werewolf?” Zadok asked curiously as he laid his bag down by the edge and undid his coat.

“Oh yeah, that’s Tom. He comes with me to a lot of stuff. We’ve been friends for years now.” You answered him, “I saved him a spot at the front since he was just as excited as me to see you guys.”

“He’s a nice guy then.” Zadok smiled, his needle like teeth parted slightly as he turned to sniff the air, “Sounds like a keeper.” he teased.

You shook your head, “Nah. We’re just friends. Tom is like a brother to me. We’ve both been through this before.” You shrugged, “I’m sure I’ll find someone like that though.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will.” Zadok awkwardly added before he changed the subject, “Are we allowed in the water?”

 The water was clear enough to see the heavy, dark stones that covered the bottom and you shrugged at Zadok.

“So long as you don’t kiss any Nymphs, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You joked as you sat yourself next to the water and sipped the last remnants of your drink.

“Oh, I don’t plan on kissing any of them.” Zadok chuckled as he shrugged his coat off and reached for his tanks, “Would you mind…”

“Oh, gosh, sure, sorry.” You rambled before turning around, “Are those tanks hard to get off.

In reply you heard the hiss and click before water glugged and the tank thumped to the floor, “No. It’s not too hard, just a lot of suction cups and water glugging.” Zadok hummed and you made sure to keep turned around as fabric fluttered to the floor, “You can turn back now.” He announced quietly.

 You turned back around, clutching your drink between your hands, and looked at the man as he laid on his back and floated out into the middle of the clear water. He was bare of clothes, but nothing was exposed, and you remembered your anatomy lessons enough to know that most Mer’s had slits which hid everything away. Zadok flipped himself backwards and plunged himself deep into the pool. The water swirling was the only sign he was moving, and you walked back to the edge and sat down. Much like he had earlier, you took your shoes and socks off, and plunged your feet carefully into the water. It was quite cool, and you shuddered at the sensation before you wiggled your toes back and forth and swung your feet in the water. A hand grabbed your ankle and you jumped with a squeak until Zadok’s white head appeared. His head emerged and you marvelled at the glittering silver and purple of his bioluminescence. His eyes blinked back their protective eyelids, the third lids sliding to the sides of his eyes as he peered up at you with a grin of needle like teeth.

 “Boo.” He whispered before submerging his gills again, his eyes poking out above the water while the slits on his neck and ribcage flared and moved water.

“You’re an ass.” You commented before splashing water at his head.

Zadok flared the fins on his head, the sails on top of his head and one each side shaking in a ripple before they shone with purple light, “You stuck your feet into a pool with unknown creatures in it.” he shot back at you as he laid himself on the incline of the pool, his stomach resting against the stones, keeping his gills submerged.

“Is the water okay for you? Don’t you need salt water since you’re from the deep ocean?” You asked curiously, “You won’t get any infections from it will you?”

Zadok gave you a withering look, “I’ll be fine. If this is a fae pool it will be perfectly clean. They don’t like dirty water.” he wiggled back into the water, “I can breathe fresh water just fine, since this is pure, its even better.”

“That’s great then. I didn’t want to be responsible for making you ill or anything! Considering you have a few more months of touring it would be pretty disastrous.” You smiled with relief.

 For a while, you watched Zadok swim and dive. He dipped beneath the surface seamlessly and you marvelled at the glow to his fins and scales as he dove to the bottom of the pond. You could make out the colour of his bioluminescence beneath the surface, glowing through the water as he swam in large circles. As you sat, quiet and still, the sprites seemed to return to the water, and you smiled as a few smaller sprites sat by you in the reeds and grass. A couple of small looking mushrooms rattled together before their small arms and legs appeared and they opened their eyes, trundling over to pick at Zadok’s clothes and shoes before they hopped into his shoe and made happy noises. You laughed at them before a small, hummingbird like fae zipped in front of your face and giggled before settling herself on top of your head to play with whatever she could reach. Zadok surfaced and opened his eyelids as a couple of kelp looking creatures clung to his fins. They flopped back into the water before he could complain but he only smiled beneath the surface, snapping at them with his sharp teeth to scare them away from his fins. He reached and tugged a few of them free of his dorsal sail, the sharp needles tearing a few of them a little, but they didn’t seem to complain as they floated back into the depths of the pond.

 “They seem to like you.” Zadok commented as he swam close to the edge, his body bending before he laid his webbed hands in the grass, claws plucking at the strands and snapping them.

“If you come here long enough, they take a liking to you. They just like people who can sit quietly, and who don’t litter.” You replied as you placed your cup into his plastic bag. You hummed as you reached inside and plucked the bottle out, “Did you plan on doing a little more than swimming?” You teased as you shook the bottle of whiskey in front of him.

Zadok plucked it out of your hands and scoffed, “A little more than relaxing…” he muttered, “Something like that. It’s been a rough few weeks, being on tour and all.”

You didn’t know Zadok well, but you found yourself replying before you could stop yourself, “Is it something you want to talk about?”

“No.” he replied brusquely, “Its something at home. Nothing you can really help with.” Zadok hummed, “But some company might be nice?” he asked as he held the whiskey a little higher out of the water.

 It was only just past midday, but you smiled at him, remembering that you had the day off work anyway. You checked your phone and nodded.

“Sure. I wouldn’t mind sharing some of that. Its expensive.” You commented as Zadok undid the lid and tossed it into the grass.

He held the drink up before taking a few sips and hissing, “Definitely decent stuff.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You joked, “As a bartender, I have a keen sense for what makes a good whiskey.” You laughed before taking a mouthful and humming at the burn as you swallowed, “Oh yeah, definitely decent.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Zadok chuckled as he leaned back and floated out into the middle of the pond, his eyes closed as the sun shone through the leaves and hit the skin of his belly. His stomach glittered with blue and purple light from the natural sunlight and you watched the light show in awe before you took another sip of whiskey to dampen the feeling swirling in your gut.

 Zadok floated for a while before he dipped below the water and dove to the bottom, the water swirling in his wake. His fins popped back out of the water as he swam to the edge and surfaced, smiling at you before he held out his fist.

“Open your hand.” he insisted, “I have something for you.”

You did as you were told and placed the whiskey down to open your hands for what he had to give you. He opened his claws and dropped a large looking rock. You frowned but span it over to reveal the inside of a geode. It was split some time ago but Zadok’s swimming had cleaned most of the silt from inside of it, revealing a shiny gathering of blue and clear crystals. The sprite in your hair chirped happily before a magpie squawked and landed nearby, eyeing the shiny object up with one beady eye.

 “Wow.” You whispered, “Was this at the bottom of the pond?” You asked as you turned the crystals away from the sunlight, so the magpie didn’t decide to dive at you for the object.

“There’s a small cave at the bottom. It probably leads to some fae lair, but the inside was full of rocks and geodes. Its obviously a lair which has been abandoned though, there’s silt all over it.” Zadok commented, “They probably moved along a while ago.”

“That’s amazing.” You replied, “Thank you. Its very pretty.”

Zadok failed to stop his fins from flaring as he puffed with pride, “Sorry.” he grunted, “It’s a natural thing. I can’t stop myself.”

You only laughed at him, “Its fine, don’t worry about it.” You took hold of the whiskey again and held it out for him, “Want some more.”

Embarrassed, Zadok nodded, “Yep.” And took the whiskey as he swam back out into the pond, treading water easily as he sipped whiskey, back and forth across the length of the body of water.

 The whiskey was strong, and it quickly got to your head, making you smile as you laid near the edge of the water, talking as you watched the clouds roll overhead. You grinned as Zadok started to cloud watch with you. It was childish almost, but peaceful as you both laid back and watched the day roll past, sipping whiskey before you started on the bread and meat he had shoved into the bag as well, chewing slowly as you listened to the trees rustle and fae giggle. The sun started to dip below the horizon as you both finished off the bottle of whiskey, giggling and slapping water at each other before you flopped back against the bank with your feet swirling back and forth in the water. Zadok dipped below the surface and resurfaced happily, stretching his lithe figure out before he swam back towards you. One of his hands wrapped around your ankle, the black, tapered claws grazing over your skin before he pulled himself out of the water, and grazed them up over your calf, to the point where your bottoms were rolled up your legs. His white eyes continued up your legs, following their own path over your chest before your gazes locked.

 His fingers pressed against your skin, softly mapping the expanse of your calf before he trailed his other hand up your other leg, touching the back of your leg in a slow stroke before he heaved his body up and out of the water, resting between your legs as he dripped water over your stomach. Intensity burned in his white eyes as his nose holes flared and his mouth opened, scenting the air. You looked up at him and felt your body go hot. After a moment looking at his perfect, pearl coloured skin, you dared to stroke your hands over his stomach, following the deep purple colours as they zipped up over his shoulders and down his back. A croaking purr escaped Zadok as he pushed his skin against your hands, enjoying the petting as his lips pursed. His gills flared with a sigh before he leaned over and pressed his lips to your own. His second eyelids closed over his eyes, like he was snatching a fish from the water, and he watched you melt against the grass, one of your hands cupping his cheek, stroking at the fin on the side of his head, while your other hand dared to trail down his stomach, stroking the soft, scaled skin before you reached the mound between his legs.

 Another soft rumble ran up Zadok’s check before he croaked, the sound accompanied by the soft fluttering of his gills. His eyes were closed as your fingers grazed over the flushed flesh of his slit. You stroked along the centre where the rough scales parted to reveal a peak of his soft, blue coloured flesh.

“Fuck.” Zadok whispered as his arms shook, “Please.” he whimpered in your ear.

“Please, what?” You gasped as your finger dipped into the slit as it grew slippery with a natural lubricant before you kissed him again, stroking the flushed flesh gently as you felt his tongue prod at your lips. The two of you kissed a little deeper, tongues touching before Zadok tilted his head and pulled himself out of the water completely, pressing his wet skin and scales to your front.

The mer shifted against you as your fingers came away from his slit, covered in a thin slime, “Let me…” he croaked again with a purr, “Let me have you.”

 You grinned as he pressed his slit to your hips, rubbing the scales against you, “Do you have a room somewhere?” you asked, no louder than a whisper.

Zadok nodded his head as you dragged your nails down his back, shivering before he managed to speak, “The Rouge Bard. We have our own rooms. Everyone is out today.” he added as he blinked and leaned to nip at your lips, his gills fluttering again before he leaned back.

“We best continue this there then.” You stated as Zadok kissed you once more and pulled away, shaking water from his body as he hissed and pulled his clothes back on. The cotton dragged at the swollen flesh of his slit and you drunkenly hummed, looking at his angular ribcage, structured with thin bones and heavy scales. You were admiring him. Zadok smiled as he zipped up his cargo pants, moving the chains out of the way as they linked together and jangled.

“Yes. Let’s.” Zadok shuddered as the wind blew, but quickly covered up before stealing another heated kiss from your lips, his fins flaring as you clicked the water tank breathers to the gills on his neck.

 The two of you stumbled from the abandoned homes, stealing kisses and dragging your hands over each other’s skin as darkness settled over the city. You stumbled and laughed with one another as you reached the hotel and he dragged you into the elevator, purring his croaking noise again as he pressed you to his front and stole another kiss, his lips demanding more from you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you gasped against his teeth as they nipped at you. The elevator pinged the floor and you both collapsed out of it, dragging each other down the hall until you reached his door. You pressed his back against it as he fumbled for the keycard to get in.

A whistle sounded behind you as Zadok opened the door, “Golden boys getting some ass tonight I see.” Senoz purred from across the hall.

“I think I might be the one getting the ass.” You purred as the demon’s tails swung upwards, curled curiously.

“Well, when he’s a disappointment, you know where to find me, sweet thing.” Senoz swiped at your neck and licked the skin before leaving you both to tumble into Zadok’s room.

“Fucking demon.” the merman growled, “I’ll…”

“You better not be all talk. I might get bored and head over to see how good Senoz is in bed.” You countered as his coat fell to the floor.

 Zadok was quick to pull the suction cups of his water tank free, wheezing for a moment before he pealed his shirt off, revealing his angular chest and plated ribs again. You leaned back to admire the sight before he grabbed at your own clothes. You let him wrangle your coat and shirt off before you pushed him back towards the double bed. He went with a soft rumble, laying back against the cushions as he undid his trousers. You stood and slid them down over his hips to reveal his underwear. They were wet with lubricant. Pulling them down, you tried not to lick your lips as his slit sat before you, puffy and glistening, the head of his cock already peeking out from the blue flesh. Zadok threw his head back as you pushed your fingers against the soft scaled skin, revealing the v-shaped head of his cock.

“Fuck, please.” he whined again, “Please.” he reached for your neck and leaned up for a kiss, only to be denied as you spotted the jewellery collars on top of his dresser. They were probably from the show the night before. Before he could steal a kiss, you retrieved one of the studded black leather collars and grinned.

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you have what you want.” You promised as you slid back into his lap, holding the studs of the spiked collar open.

 The merman looked from the collar to your face. His white eyes widened before he nodded, licking at his lips with a blue, pointed tongue. You reached around his neck to click the collar closed before leaning back in his lap to admire the black leather and silver spikes against his pearlescent skin. Bioluminescence trails ran up his arms as you trailed your hands over his scaled skin. It was rough over the tops of his arms and you dug your fingers into the meat of his tricep to enjoy the feeling of the rough skin against your palms. Sitting back on his thighs, you turned your gaze downwards as you looped a finger through the ring hanging from the leather. Zadok moaned quietly as you gave it a soft tug and teased the tip of his cock. It bobbed, stirring between the blue fleshy lips before it extended out of its hole, shining wet with lubricant. His dick was long and curved upwards, with a head that tapered into a v shape. Beneath the head was bulbous, in the shape of an oval, and the bottom was flared with ribs. It was entirely new, and you felt your mouth water slightly at the sight of the blue gradient of the organ. The bottom glittered with silver light at your staring and his cock bobbed upwards sharply as your fingers trailed over his shoulders and down his ribs. Zadok let out another purring croak as you finally reached his pelvis and ran your fingertips along the top of his dick.

 “Please, master, please.” he croaked as he flopped back into the cushions, easily falling into a more submissive role as you dragged him up a little by the ring of his collar, “Please touch me.”

You shuddered at his tone of voice, enjoying the soft pleading from a voice which was usually so confident and demanding of attention on stage.

“Are you going to be a good boy and do as you’re told?” You asked as you sat on his thighs, running your fingers over his hips, towards the base of his cock, before you trailed back again, letting the head of his dick leak precum and his slit drip with more lubricant. The clear fluid leaked down over his buttocks and you watched as his face lit up with a blue blush.

Zadok swallowed thickly, “I’ll be g-good.” he promised quietly as you let go of the ring of his collar and stroked the length of his dick.

“Good boy.” You cooed as you stroked him, “We can stop anytime, just pat my thigh twice.” You told him before leaning down to steal a kiss from his lips as you pressed your finger to the sensitive head of his cock.

 “Ah!” Zadok cried sharply as your fingers twisted underneath the bulbous part of his cock, “That’s…sensitive.” he whined as you grasped the oval shape again and stroked around it, watching his clawed feet curl into the sheets, cutting slits into the sheets.

“Its sensitive is it?” You asked as you trailed over the bump again.

“Yes.” he cried, “Please, master, I can’t…I’ll cum before…”

Abruptly, you let go, watching his cock bob and throb with a hum. Zadok whined and croaked again before leaning up to kiss you, demanding your attention.

“I think I need a little help before I can fit that in baby boy.” You uttered against his lips, “How about you open me up a little?”

Zadok nodded as you took hold of his hand and looked at his claws, assessing them for a moment before you decided they were clipped enough to not shred your insides.

 Zadok croaked before purring again as you sat on your knees, resting above his lap as his hand encompassed your sex, the rough scales on the outside of his fingers grazing against your sensitive skin before they ran back and pushed at your hole. He met with resistance and the mer quickly gathered the natural lubricant from his slit, smearing it over his fingers before he pushed back against your hole. Carefully, he slid one finger inside to the second knuckle, letting you rest for a moment before he eased the rest in. Your inside were warm, and Zadok shuddered at the temperature difference before he crooked his finger and began gently thrusting it in and out. His other hand occupied itself at your chest before his mouth took to teasing your nipples, sucking on the buds until they were pert and sore, his sharp teeth nipping at the skin as he croaked again in happiness.

“You’re such a good boy.” You moaned between the attention of his mouth and hands, enjoying the pleasurable stretch as he pushed another finger into you and scissored the two apart, pressing against your plush insides.

“Anything for you, master.” Zadok purred drunkenly, his pale face flushed with blue blood. You watched his cock bob and weep a pearl of light blue precum, following the fluid as it dripped back down the length and mixed with the lubricant seeping from his slit.

 “Zadok, you’re dripping all over yourself. Is this turning you on that much?” You asked breathily as his fingers pressed into a sensitive spot, keeping your composure as he sucked on your nipples again, leaving cool spit over the skin with his blue tongue.

“Mmm. It is.” Zadok hissed as you wrapped your hand around the head of his cock, “Please, can I be inside you?”

“Hmm? What was that? Where are your manners, baby?” You asked as you pulled his fingers from you looking at them before you leaned back in his lap and pinned his hands to the bed. His dick bobbed as you stretched his arms up over his head and you admired the shape of his lithe figure, all bone and sleek muscle. His luminescence burned bright in striped over his entire body, shooting like currents as you nudged your hips against his own, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please, master, I can’t stand it. I need to be inside you.” Zadok moaned as you tugged him up by the collar for a kiss, mashing your tongues and teeth together messily before you reached back and lined his dick up against your hole, “Thank you, thank you…” He uttered incoherently as you sank down on his cock.

 A moan tore from you as the bulbous part under his head sank into you, stretching you wide before the ribs along the bottom scraped gently at your insides. A sharp bolt of pleasure ran up your spine as you took him to the base. He was unique, slippery, and textured in ways you had never taken, and you took a moment to admire his face as his second eyelids flicked and blinked back and forth. His hips shifted, jolting you on top of him, and you felt the cool seep of lubricant from where your hips were pressed together.

“You’re just gushing for me, aren’t you?” You teased as you slid up his cock and slid back down, enjoying the wet squelch that sounded as your hips collided. Zadok nodded and croaked again, reaching for his collar as his other hand wrapped around a bed post, anchoring himself as your rhythm took over, rocking his dick in and out of yourself. He struggled to say anything as the bulbous protrusion expanded, squirting something unfamiliar inside of you.

 “Did you just….” You paused as he shook his head, and your insides turned into jelly, numb to the swell but tingling with extra pleasure. It was a thin stream of jelly and you sat up on your knees to see it drip out of you thickly, numbing wherever it touched.

“Its for…eggs…” he moaned, “I couldn’t stop myself…”

You moaned as your legs shook, “It’s fine…Fuck its.” You pushed your fingers to your sex and shuddered again.

“It’s an…aphrodisiac and its…” Zadok moaned sharply his hand flying to the bed post again as you dropped on his cock, picking up the pace in a frenzy as your insides throbbed with the need to cum.

“I need to cum, baby, can you do it with me?” You asked as you leaned for another kiss and to tug at his collar, tightening the hold of your hand around his neck slightly as you thrust onto him. The ribs of his cock brushed your insides and you quivered before you came, white hot pleasure burning behind your eyes before Zadok croaked and shot his load. You shuddered at the feeling as you slowly brought yourself off his dick. Light blue cum dripped from you and you flopped against his chest with a sigh, thumbing at the collar around his neck happily in the afterglow of it all.

 Tiredly, you roused from your sleepy state as Zadok placed you back against the cushions and tugged the sheets over your body. You hummed against the cushions before the sheets slid back down over your skin.

“You’re not already up for more are you?” You cooed as you peeled open your eyes.

“If only. I’m not that young anymore.” Zadok chuckled as he eased you over onto your back and revealed a warm wash cloth. He hummed as he slid it over your skin, wiping away the cum and jelly like substance which had made your insides tingle.

“I might be able to go for another.” You hummed as he wiped between your legs and tapped at your thigh.

“Well, this one hasn’t got it in him, I’m afraid.” Zadok flopped next to you, clean and relaxed as he laid back against the cushions and reached around the back of his neck.

You reached for the collar for him, “Here. Let me do it.” You kissed the skin of his shoulder and squeezed his shoulder softly before you unclipped the press studs and pulled it away from his neck. You kissed his neck where the leather had bitten into his skin a little and placed the collar on the bedside table before snuggling back against his chest.

 Zadok croaked a little before he ran his fingers over your back, running his claws up and down your spine as he laid back and enjoyed the warmth of your skin against his own. He was cool to the touch, and you slid your fingers down over his plated chest, swooping to the side to feel the odd angle of his ribcage before you stopped above his pelvis, remembering that his dick had probably long retracted into his slit.

“Wait you don’t have anything do you?” You asked sleepily.

Zadok thumbed at the bottom of your chin, “Unless you count drug laced jello as having something, then no.” he let out a raspy breath of air before sitting up, easing you off his body, “Sorry. I need to just go and soak a while. Come and join me?”

With a smile, you leaned up on the edge of the bed and kissed him, enjoying the scrape of his scales, “Sure. Give me a minute though, my legs are still a little like jelly.”

Zadok chuckled again before he purred softly and walked to the bathroom.

 You watched his backside go before you sat back against the headboard and massaged at your thighs, hoping that the numb, tingling feeling would wear off. It felt like a residual tingling pleasure, and you felt your insides burn with the idea of another round in the posh hotel bathtub. A rumbling sounded from the floor. You perked up at the noise before looking at Zadok’s bottoms on the floor. His pocket lit up with the screen of his phone. Someone was ringing him. It wasn’t polite, and you knew that as you curiously leaned down and plucked the phone from his pocket.

‘Misty Conrad’ it read, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Miss Conch. The words rang in your head from the band meet and greet. Senoz had implied that they were together. Suddenly, the mild buzz from the alcohol wasn’t there, and you sobered up as the ringing stopped and the screen went black. You clicked the screen back on and looked at the notifications. Three messages. Ten missed calls. The phone buzzed again with a new message and you clicked it to reveal the short message.

‘I know you’re with that fan. Answer my calls Zadok or it’s over.’

 Your eyes burned with tears of humiliation. He was with her. What they had was more than a song recorded together, and you were a fool for not seeing the signs earlier. You let out a small noise as you sniffed and grew angry, the tears siding down your cheeks as you grabbed for your clothes on wobbly legs.

“Was that my phone?” Zadok asked and you turned to face him as he poked his head around the bathroom door. He was dripping with water but his eyes widened as he saw you crying and grabbing for your clothes, “Are you…”

You threw his phone on the bedside table as you tugged your underwear and bottoms on, “You’re a cheating fuck!” You accused, “And you used me! I should have known that this was stupid but… Miss Conch. She’s been ringing you all say and now she knows.” Your brain couldn’t seem to quite catch up with you as you pulled your shirt on and grabbed your bag. Zadok wrapped his waist with a towel, his mouth open as he grabbed his phone from the table and looked. He cringed at the messages and turned.

“Look, its not what you think!” he insisted as he caught your arm, “We’ve not been together seriously for ages and…”

“And nothing!” You threw back at him, “You used me to console your feelings because you can’t bare to deal with her, and you’ve made me into some kind of…”

“I’m not…” Zadok took a breath, croaking as he pulled at his fins, “Look, I’m sorry, I’ll sort this…”

“I…I don’t care.” You tugged your arm free, feeling the tears beginning to burn into your anger again, “You’re a bastard, Zadok, I want you to know that. A selfish bastard.”

 Zadok let your arm go as you opened the door and stood with his phone clenched in his claws as you slammed the door behind you. You wiped at your eyes furiously in the hall and took a shaky breath before you turned on your heels.

“Hmm, leaving so soon, sugar?” Senoz purred as he peered out into the hall, “Or did you want a piece of this instead of the fishy boy?” he sniffed and tilted his head, his horns scratching at the frame, “Wait, why are you crying? Are you alright?”

You held out your hand to him, motioning for him to stop as you wiped the tears away, “I’m fine. Leave it. I’ll be going.”

The demon turned his head to Zadok’s door as you left him stood in the hall. As you rounded the corner you heard him knock on the door.

“You know that’s real bad fucking PR to make fans cry after fucking them, Zadok!”

 You didn’t hear from Zadok after that. The band continued their tour globally, and you watched the highlights happily, listening to the songs with your usual interest. You smiled at Duncan’s solos and watched the crowd go berserk. It was energy you lived for. Zadok’s performances were stunning. He draped himself over a piano and sang a ballad before he did more singing in his ancient mer language. It was lovely, but it stung a little. It wasn’t long after their tour finished that you turned on the alternative radio station. The ends of a metal song chugged along as you made a sandwich. It was your day off from the bar and you had been cleaning most of the day, enjoying cleansing yourself of clutter and dust. You hummed as you placed two slices of bread on the plate.

 “Although we have drama in the metal scene, we’re all used to the usual knucklehead fights between rival bands, or better yet, accusations of plagiarism, but we’ve never quite had some news like this. The frontman of the band SIREN has been caught, if you mind the pun, in a fishing net of accusations. Miss Conch, the mans supposed former partner, has been blowing the lid off his life outside of his band. The accusations range from ritual sacrifice to cheating, and its not something we usually endorse. But, to answer these claims, we have the very man, or mer, with us in the studio right now.”

 You dashed for the volume dial and turned it up a little before you moved your plate closer and began to cut up your filling for the lunch.

 “So, Zadok, what do you have to say about these claims by Pop Star, Miss Conch?”

“Some are right, but most are wrong. The ritual sacrifice, for starters, is a ceremony done by my people to appease the currents of the ocean. We take a fish and its bones and lay them in art decorations as an offering. Its an old and sacred tradition. The cheating accusations are, in part true, but our relationship was never official, and I had already broken things off by the beginning of this tour. Her more serious allegations…well my manager and lawyer are already dealing with those. They are untrue and slanderous.”

“Are you calling Miss Conch a liar?”

“For the most part, yes, I am. She invaded my private life and failed to see when our relationship was over. I want to be transparent and come out to speak for my side of the story. I’m not calling her obsessed or anything derogatory, I am just justifying what is fact from fiction.”

“That’s understandable and I’m sure your fans appreciate your honesty.”

 “Unfounded and untrue.” You scoffed as you slapped your sandwich together, “Next he’ll be telling everyone that he-”

 “This drama has gone on long enough and it has hurt people close to me, not just mine and the band’s reputation. I hurt someone I now know I shouldn’t have with this mess and this is my start to fixing that mistake.”

 “That he didn’t know where his dick was going…” You whispered as you looked at the radio like it was a person staring back at you. You wondered if he was talking about you as you moved around the island of your kitchen and headed towards your couch to sit and eat your sandwich. The host thanked him before announcing the next song as Burn by SIREN. You listened to the thunderous drums as you chewed, mulling over the words in your head before the guitars wailed and you thumped at the cushions.

“Why do I even think that? He’s the one who just failed to tell me he has a girlfriend!” You grumbled to yourself before pulling your phone out. You sighed as you opened MonstGram. In your inbox, there sat one message.

 ‘Can we talk? I need to speak to you. I know I’m a selfish bastard but I want the chance to apologise.’

 The same image of the figure by the sea. You took a deep breath as you looked at the vague image of Zadok and placed your phone down, the screen black as you finished off the last bits of your sandwich. Contemplation lasted only a moment as the screen lit up and the notification registered. Another message. You looked at the icon and opened it again.

 ‘I know I’m the last person you want to see but I’m sorry things ended up how they did. I hope my stupid actions didn’t ruin your love of our music. I’ll leave you alone. That’s all I wanted to say.’

 It stank of desperation. You looked from the message and back to your empty plate. It wasn’t manipulative. It was honest, and that made you hate how you were feeling even more. You opened the conversation again and stared at the picture of the sea and cliffs. Your fingers danced over the keyboard before you started to type.

 ‘One chance. Meet me at Full Moon Bar. Friday. I’ll be on shift but I’ll talk to you.’

 ‘I’ll see you then.’

 With a great sigh, you closed your screen and looked up at the ceiling, your head resting on the back of the sofa cushions. It was a leap of faith, you knew that. You were trusting him with your good faith again.

“If he doesn’t show up, Miss Conch will be the least of his problems. I’ll slice him up like sushi and mail him back to his manager.” You spat, and the poisonous words made you feel a little better and hate him a little less. With a smile, you ran a hand over your face and got up to go and put your plate away in the sink for washing later. For now, you had a living area to deep clean, and you headed for the vacuum to try and clean Zadok from your mind for a while.

 The bar was quiet on Friday. Thankfully, there was a small group who had a lot of orders to keep you entertained. It distracted you from the nerves brewing in your gut.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you today?” Tom asked as he leaned over the bar, his nose perked as he sniffed at the air, “You smell off as all hell.”

“Get your werewolf nose away from me, Tom. I mean it.” You threatened as you turned to place some clean glasses under the bar, “I’m not in the mood for your meddling.”

“Meddling? Me? Never.” Tom teased gently, “Its like you’re worried though. Talk to me.”

With a great sigh, you turned back to face him, “Someone I’ve not seen in a long time is coming…I just need you to be there in case. Not with me or anything, just around.”

 “Of course.” Tom consoled, “I hope this isn’t some abusive asshole, because I swear on the moon I’ll…”

“Don’t worry. Its not. Its just something I need to sort out.” You assured him.

“Okay. What time do you need a minute?” he asked as he opened the bar door and stood next to you. You peered at the clock as the bell on the door rang, and Tom turned to greet them with a smile.

“Evening.” he said before he turned back to you, his eyes wide and his nose flared, “Tell me I’m not dreaming, and that Zadok from SIREN did actually just walk into the bar.”

You stiffened as you peered around him, “You’re not dreaming big guy.” You headed to the door, “So keep your cool. This is the one I need to talk to.”

Tom’s mouth opened like a large fish but he didn’t ask you any questions as you headed over to Zadok.

 Zadok ducked into a booth near the entrance, his head low and covered by a large black hood. His water respirator was on and he was wearing a mouth piece over his face. You watched him before finally taking the last couple of steps and sliding into the seat. You slid him a shot of whiskey. Zadok caught the shot glass and looked up, his white eyes locking with your own before he reached for his face and clicked a few buttons. The water drained from the mask and he pulled it free, smiling with needle sharp teeth. He was dressed in his usual baggy combats and a large, long sleeve shirt. The shirt was torn and had a few chains linked across his chest. He tugged off his hood and looked at the shot glass for a moment.

“Look I know that…That I fucked up. What I did was selfish, and I took advantage of you.” he started as he clutched the glass between his hands, “I shouldn’t have I shouldn’t have let you do what you wanted but it happened and I’m sorry.”

 You looked at his face and the wetness of his eyes, “You still did it, and that hasn’t changed. I was…I was hurt and upset. I had her message me, Zadok. Spiteful, horrible things. None of that hurt will go away but its fading.”

Zadok cringed over his drink, “We weren’t even properly together. We had sex and a few dates but with the tour, it wasn’t going any further. She messaged me constantly. Harrassed me with phone calls and I was just…I should have told her.” he looked you dead in the eyes, “I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess.”

“It’s a mess, but I appreciate you being so honest with me.” You confessed as he thumbed at his drink before downing the whiskey. His hands looked a little steadier after the strong liquor.

“It’s the least I could do. She’s in the past. She’s tried to file a lot of shit against me. It wasn’t worth it, and I’m…I’m tired. She can have the song rights and royalties. I just want her out of my life”

 You didn’t comment but nodded as he ranted a little. You knew about the allegations. It was widely known news to the fans now. Still, his interview weighed on your mind.

“What you said in the interview you did on Metal Talks.” You started, “Is this what you were talking about? You wanted to make this right with me?”

“Yes. I knew…Look I was a fucking idiot, I know that, but I ruined something that I thought was going to be…”

“More?” You added with a small smile.

“Call it stupidity, but…You were just stunning, and I got carried away. The alcohol didn’t help matters but I still think you’re amazing. Your love for the music, for life, it just spoke to me and… Look I can’t change anything, but I can try and sort this out.” He pushed the glass over to you on the table, “We don’t know each other, not really, but would you be willing to know me, in a better way?”

You gut churned as you looked at his pearlescent skin and his beautiful white eyes, chewing the inside of your cheek, “Maybe I would. I thought you were moving, in everything, from the moment I started to follow you all, but that doesn’t change what you did. I need time and space, but I would like to know you, the real you.”

 Zadok carefully reached for your hand and squeezed at your fingers carefully as he smiled and ducked his head. The door opened and Tom greeted the next customer. You sat, letting him hold your hand, before you blushed and got up.

“You still have to pay for the drink, but you can stay, if you like? I know Tom is dying for an autograph and a picture. He’s probably your second biggest fan.”

Zadok chuckled and looked up at you, “Who’s my first?”

“Well, you just might have to find that out.”

[butchhamlet]

hiii im acting out act 5 scene 5 from macbeth for my english class and i was wondering if u have any tips/any hcs or staging ideas? (im playing macbeth btw)

oh that's so rad!! best of luck!! very flattered that you thought of me but for the record i know absolute jackshit fuckall (and the fuckall that i do know about is usually more related to the text than performance) HOWEVER one of my best friends is a very talented actress so this post is like... a mix of my opinions + her opinions/expertise

so macbeth is. he is in the shit in this scene. this is the scene where stuff really starts falling down around him - he's been in this bubble of mania (the first two mini-speeches say as such; he has total confidence in his ability to withstand a siege and he seems to at least want to believe that nothing can frighten him anymore), and then he finds out in quick succession that 1) his wife is dead and 2) the fucking wood is marching on him (you know, one of the signs of impending doom). how does your macbeth's "madness" manifest - is he scary-serious, driven, hungering for war? is he in a state of hysterical amusement about the whole thing? is he angry? is he laughing? both? where do the mood swings hit?

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. god, it is such a good fucking speech, and it's the hinge of this scene (and, really, the final major shift in his character imo). this is the moment he realizes that It's Not Working - it being the murdering his way out of this. actress friend said "he thinks his previous attempts to cover things have mostly worked up until now, and he doesn’t think anything can touch him, this is his first tragedy in a while" and i think that's exactly it; finding out lady macbeth is dead is a tangible and VERY final sign that he fucked up BAD - and of course he crossed the threshold of being able to step out of it a long time ago (too far steeped in blood and all), but this is the first time he really has to look that in the eyes.

actress friend's thoughts:

in my opinion there’s two ways to play the tomorrow and tomorrow monologue: you can do it in more of a numb state, like this is the first thing in days/weeks that to maccers right now seems like a failure or something that’s truly gone amiss... i like this approach because the first line of the monologue is definitely kind of trying to downplay or pretend this news doesn’t actually effect him when like,,, bro that’s your wife. then the second part can still be played this way like he’s like yeah this doesn’t effect me whatever she was gonna die anyway, life has no meaning what do i care (pls get therapy). the second way is to have him devolve into madness as he goes through the monologue. this way you still have the first line as like him trying to seem numb and play it off, but as you get through the monologue you really see how much he is effected by this and how this can be like the final straw into true just unhinged madness, like dude loved his wife so much she convinced him to kill his king, shits gonna fuck him up.

(of course, this does depend on your interpretation of macbth's relationship with his wife - not that this scene sees an interaction between them, obviously, but how you envision their relationship is gonna drive the tone of this monologue. i personally am partial to "yeah, their marriage was dysfunctional as fuck, but they also loved each other to a point of near-madness, and while they've been drifting since killing duncan, this is The moment he 1) really realizes how much has come between them and 2) fully loses his hope")

i think which approach you choose of my two favorites can depend on how you want his interaction with the messenger to go. like do you want him talking to the messenger to be an extension of his further decent into madness and anger and loss of control, OR if you’ve played the monologue like numb and hateful of the world, suddenly he could explode on the messenger, and you see really how MUCH the death of his wife is affecting him, but he’s still attempting to maintain a guise of control, even as he goes more and more insane.

i think you can use his second monologue after he gets the news about the woods to do a few different things. you can try to really get like a wide range of emotions in like when he tells the messenger hey i’m gonna kill you if you’re lying, that can be super angry, and then the next line could be like joking with an old friend, to this clearly terrified messenger. the aside where he’s talking to himself i think definitely needs to be panicked, it’s pretty straight forward i think. his last lines where he says he’s tired of living can also be played few different ways depending on how like,,, truly unhinged you think he is. you could play them more jokingly to maybe show a bit of the old confident commander coming back, or he could be the opposite just like totally beaten down and like literally i wanna die so bad rn my wife is dead, the prophecy is coming true, fuck. OR another way is like excited, like yeah I wanna die and im proud! i’ve gone totally insane! if you’re gonna practice your lines at all, definitely try those last few lines a few different ways, and see what you like the best, and what fits your interpretation of the play and the character the best

yeah i'm just quoting my friend because her brain is huge & i think this monologue could be a super cool place to play with the mood swings. and i think that last bit is the most integral part: where does his mood end up? i personally always envision this scene as ending with a full slide into Losing Control. "at least we'll die with harness on our back!" delivered in total frenzy because okay, yeah, they're gonna kill him, all the signs are pointing to it and god, he doesn't even care anymore, he hasn't been happy for so long! but at heart he's still a soldier. the difference between he and his lady is that macbeth isn't the type to fall on his own sword: he doesn't know how to give up, and if they want him dead they're going to have to kill him. (even at the very end, when he Knows it's the end because macduff slots so perfectly into the prophecy, he'd rather go down in blood than be kept prisoner.) of course, you can play it however you want - i would just consider what energy/tone you want the scene to end on, and how it contrasts with the opening energy (even if both are manic-desperate, there's an added element of hopelessness bleakness now because it's officially impossible to ignore that everything is crashing down HARD. i don't think he's ever afraid, necessarily. i think this is just the first moment the despair breaks through the numb).

*i have no idea how in depth you're acting this out for class. there is a chance you can get away with just phoning in this assignment and reading the lines and that this post is like completely long-winded and overthought. oh well

[powerplayunit]

Kris Letang’s ‘risky’ play shouldn’t define his under-appreciated career

Oct 12, 2022 (x) 

Sidney Crosby’s choice of words is like his patented backhand: deft and precise. He doesn’t need to say much to illustrate just how vital Kris Letang was to Pittsburgh’s 2016 Stanley Cup victory.

“He was unbelievable. The whole playoffs. Both sides of the puck. He was just all over the ice and when he’s playing his best, that’s how he is.”

The Penguins do not win that Cup without Letang.

Not with the way he played in those playoffs, scoring 15 points in 23 games while being on for 60 percent of the actual and expected goals. Not with how many minutes he ate, averaging nearly 29 per game, one of the highest in the salary cap era.

It’s one reason why he lands here, at No. 99, on our list of the 100 best NHL players of the post-1967 expansion era. That postseason was his moment — a monstrous performance and legacy-defining run that cemented him as one of the best defensemen of his generation.

At least it should’ve been.

The Stanley Cup is often won with the help of an elite showing from a transcendent defender, where his mere presence elevates everyone around him. Pittsburgh’s 2016 title was Letang taking his turn as that guy. He was as good as Duncan Keith was the year prior. He was as good as Victor Hedman four years later. But rarely is he placed in the same pantheon as those players.

The Penguins aren’t the Penguins without Letang. Throughout his career, he’s routinely among the best defensemen in the game even to this day at 35. Year-in, year-out he’s been a consistent presence — whether that’s his ability to put up points or to drive play.

“’Tanger being back there, he brings a lot of different elements,” Crosby said, before putting together a laundry list of what makes Letang such a special player.

“He’s able to skate, he can move the puck, make a quick first pass if that’s what he needs to. In the offensive zone, he can help with creating offense, getting shots through, holding on to pucks and making plays. Defensively, just being strong, getting a quick stick, breaking up a play and being able to go the other way, that’s a strength of his, too. He brings a lot in a lot of different areas, but whether you’re on the defensive side and you need to get out of your zone quick, or offensively there’s a play to be made, he can do that.”

Letang can do it all and do it all well. When it comes to what makes his game special, Crosby doesn’t hold back.

“Defensively, he’s always playing against other team’s top lines. Offensively, he’s put up really good numbers and been really consistent and he logs a ton of minutes, important minutes.

“It’s not easy to do either — especially as a defenseman — to be up in the play, be as involved as he is and then have to go back and defend as hard as he does. He’s not looking to slow things down. He’s not someone that usually plays the game at a pace to just get by, he plays at a really high pace and pushes the pace out there.”

The 2016 Cup-clinching goal, scored by Letang, is a microcosm of that — specifically his mastery in the offensive zone. A daring spin-o-rama at the blue line, a tour around the left boards with his head up all the way, and a nifty feed from behind the net into traffic all precede Letang finding open space amid the chaos to tuck it in. And who else but Crosby to make the pass.

It’s the biggest goal of Letang’s career and it came at the height of his power. Letang was an absolute force that playoffs, night-in, night-out — every shift. His total value when all was said and done was 1.3 wins, the sixth-best mark in the analytics era by a defender; sandwiched between Hedman’s Conn Smythe-winning run (1.31 wins) and Keith’s Conn Smythe-winning run (1.26 wins). And, respectfully, ahead of Crosby’s 0.75 wins in 2016.

It doesn’t feel as if he’s been fully appreciated for the player he was and still is.

Part of that might just be playing in Crosby’s shadow, with many likely attributing his production to playing with the best player in the world. It’s a fair point and it certainly helps, but it’s a relationship that works both ways. In 8,500 minutes without Letang, Crosby still puts up fantastic numbers, earning 57.7 percent of the goals and 54.5 percent of the expected goals — but having Letang on the ice offers a boost. In 5,700 minutes together, those numbers climb to 60.5 percent and 56.8 percent, respectively. Whenever Crosby shared the ice with Letang, he scored at a 113-point pace. Without him, that dropped to a 95-point pace.

Their chemistry is undeniable. The duo is dominant together and that’s a major key to success.

Keith had Jonathan Toews. Drew Doughty had Anze Kopitar. Zdeno Chara had Patrice Bergeron. Hedman had Steven Stamkos. Those teams won because of that marriage between top center and top defender. Just ask Erik Karlsson, who didn’t have quite that level of support during his peak, or Connor McDavid, who has lacked a Letang-type for his entire career.

In terms of total career value, Letang is in the conversation with those other five big guys from his era. But rarely is he actually discussed within the same breath.

Not having a Norris Trophy probably plays a role because it weakens Letang’s resume. The other part that likely holds Letang’s legacy back is health.

As much as they’re sometimes lamented, awards races build legacies and Letang hasn’t been afforded the same opportunity to be in those conversations due to injury trouble and health issues throughout his career. In his prime, Letang missed a lot of hockey. From age 24 to 29, he missed at least 10 games every season and an average of 26 games per year. That hindered his chances of being named the league’s top defender in those seasons.

In 2011-12, he finished ninth in Norris Trophy voting despite missing 31 games. He was sixth in wins, but first in wins-per-82 games. The following year he was first in both, but finished third likely due to playing only 35 of 48 games. That he managed to be that valuable despite the time missed is impressive and in hindsight should’ve been his year to win the Norris. (While we’re at it, it should’ve been Crosby’s Hart Trophy that year, too). In 2014-15, he should’ve been closer to the conversation than eighth and in 2016-17 he was again one of the league’s very best, but missed half the season.

For a single season, it makes sense why he’s not being considered as highly for the Norris Trophy as his peers. Staying healthy is part of the package when it comes to winning awards. But look at the full picture of Letang’s career and his value really starts to add up — his place next to the greats of his generation becomes hard to deny. That dominant run in 2016 puts a stamp on it.

The other issue for Letang compared to his peers is that his reputation within his own fan base wasn’t nearly as sparkling. Letang, like a lot of elite puck-movers, was prone to The Big Mistake, the one that ended up in the back of the net, drawing the ire of many fans. There were those who saw the complete picture, a dominant force all over the ice. But there were just as many who couldn’t look past the gaffes enough to place him on the pedestal he arguably deserved.

For defenders, reputations are also hard to shake. While Letang’s risky play was indeed a problem early on in his career, his dedication to becoming a more responsible two-way force drove him to be a better player every year. A more complete defenseman. Crosby, who famously came into every season with a new trick he honed in on every summer, likely served as an inspiration for that — and it’s telling he saw something similar in Letang.

“He just got better and better. He’s taken his game really serious, year after year, and always tried to improve in some area. I think it’s just been a constant evolution of his game,” Crosby said. “You could see that right from early on. He just continued to get better and he’s maintained that same mindset.”

Of course, there’s still the elephant in the room: The Penguins won a Stanley Cup without him in 2017. Pittsburgh may not win the 2016 Cup without Letang elevating his game, but the Penguins did win in 2017 without him. To Letang’s biggest detractors, it serves as a bit of confirmation bias that he wasn’t as important as he was made out to be.

But that ignores the context of both championship runs: How much easier the team’s playoff path was in 2017 (especially in the final two rounds) and how much every player had to elevate their game to make up for his absence.

“’Tanger is not an easy guy to replace, you don’t really do that with one guy,” Crosby said. “It takes a group of guys all working together to do that, making up for those minutes, elevating their game. Most teams wouldn’t have been able to get through that. It wasn’t easy, but those guys did everything they could to try to make up for not having him in the lineup.”

While many look at the Penguins as “Sid and Geno’s team,” Letang’s presence was just as crucial. The Penguins don’t make back-to-back runs to the Stanley Cup Final until Letang joins the fold full-time in 2007. They don’t win in 2016 without his otherworldly performance. And they need a herculean effort (and an easier playoff path) to win without him in 2017. He was critical to what made the Penguins one of the best teams of the era and he should be celebrated more for that.

“The fact we’ve been able to have success and win together, he’s definitely a big part of that,” Crosby said. “After playing as long as he has and accomplishing what he has, he’s still motivated to win and push himself to be the best player he can be.”

That player is among the best of his generation, one who often goes under-appreciated for just how strong of a career he’s put together. Letang might not have the same hardware as his contemporaries, nor the hype, but he belongs right next to them with how consistently strong he’s been year-in and year-out for 16 seasons and counting.

Letang isn’t done yet and the fact he’s still playing at such a high level is impressive. When all is said and done, if he keeps this level up, it’ll be even harder to ignore his greatness.

“I think ‘Tanger gets a little underappreciated, not from us, not from his teammates, not from the organization — I think we all realize how big a part of the team he is and what he contributes to it,” Crosby said. “I think the guys that play against him know what he brings and know what type of player he is. And obviously, the ones who play with him like us — we see it every day.”

Maybe he doesn’t have the public recognition, maybe he doesn’t have the Norris votes — but he’s more than earned the admiration of the greatest player of his generation. And that counts for a lot.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

A hphm character tier list please!! Bonus point if added reasoning/ explanation!

Have a great day :3

I doubt there are any placements on this list that would truly surprise anyone, but let's go through the different rankings. I didn't name them, by the way. Those were the categories that were already offered. I could have renamed or recolored them I suppose, but I didn't wind up doing so. Let's go in ascending order.

"Avada Kedavra." Self explanatory. Three of these characters are absolutely evil and irredeemable pieces of trash. And then there's Lockhart. He's just here because he pisses me off. Granted, so does Rita Skeeter, but she doesn't ruin an entire dating quest. At least when she shows up, it's because it's a quest about her. Fenrir Greyback purposefully infects children and describes them as "delicious" so...yeah. I'd put him even lower if I could. Albus Dumbledore's placement is also not a surprise if you know me. I hate him with all of my hate. Patricia Rakepick is also here and I doubt I need to explain why.

"Send to Azkaban." They don't bother me as much as "Avada Kedavra" but I am still not a fan. The Volde-clown Boggart is personally annoying in presentation but also as a plot device. For Peeves, there is the Prank storyline of Year 5. Enough said. The Weird Sisters creep me out, Filch and Mundugus are generally annoying, I discussed Rita, and the Dementor literally calls Azkaban home. That leaves Wormtail. I don't passionately hate him but he's not exactly a good person either.

"Kinda Sus" This is where I placed all of the characters who I, for whatever reason, do not trust or otherwise find shady, the ones who give me a bad feeling. This doesn't have to be plot related either, for cases like Ethan Parkin or Madam Hooch, it might just mean that their behavior is sometimes questionable. Of course, this is also something of a joke, like putting the Red Cloak on the list. For someone like Moody, it's more obvious - everyone knows I don't trust him. Characters like Bilton and Madam Villanelle are technically on our side, but they could be spies. If a character is a known villain, but their agenda and the depth of their evil is unclear, like The Dark Witch and the White-Robed Wizard, they also go here. Jacob and MC being placed here is somewhat of a joke, but it's also somewhat meta. Jacob is like Moody, his intentions are still unclear to me. And the game keeps teasing the idea that MC may fall to the Dark Side.

"Do you even go here?" Wow, do you ever stop to notice how many characters HPHM actually has? And this tier list included all of them, even the ones I would never have thought of. I literally just used this category to place all of the characters who do not technically attend Hogwarts school, though in a few of those cases like Aurelie, it definitely came off as more amusing. Additionally, I used this ranking for all of the characters who could be considered forgettable. Either by the fandom or the game itself, such as the prefects and poor Elora Dunn. Look, if the tier list has to actually list their name in the picture so that I can remember who they are, maybe they don't need to make the list, that's all I'm saying.

"Don't care." Mostly interchangeable with "Do you even go here." Again, the cast is so huge, that I'm not going to go through every character that I placed here. These past two rankings can mostly act as a summation for the majority of the characters for whom I don't particularly like or dislike. Emily Tyler hasn't returned or been developed as an antagonist in a while, so I don't care. Trelawney giving another prophecy is boring and conflicts with canon, so I don't care. Cedric Diggory is one of the most in-your-face examples of fanservice I've ever seen, so I don't care. But again, not all of these are negative. I think the Red Cap is funny, even if his storyline is brief. I love seeing Dobby, Arthur and Molly. I always love seeing them. I could go on.

"Ok." For the characters who, when I look at them, my immediate reaction is a generally positive one. I could probably get interested in a fanwork about these guys. For many of them, there is great potential to be explored but it just hasn't happened very much. Diego would not have been this high a year ago, but he's been fleshed out. Characters like Andre, Duncan, and Tonks...whenever they're in the spotlight and get genuine development, I'm interested. It just happens so rarely. The same goes for the Weasley boys, for Badeea. Other characters go here because I personally like them, even if they aren't that relevant. People like Aberforth and Percy. But two people can wind up here despite being very different and my having completely separate feelings about both of them, like Alanza and Ben.

"Like." Everyone that I would probably write a fanwork about someday, if I could actually motivate myself to finish my current WIP. Talbott, Chiara, and Jae are genuinely interesting and compelling. They might not make my top five, but they would make my top ten. I will always love Flitwick and what HPHM has done for him, I don't even care. Keep in mind, this doesn't mean I condone everything that the character has done...Ismelda has a lot to answer for, but it doesn't mean she's not interesting. And Penny can be very interesting too, but usually only when she's put under intense stress. As heartless as it is to say. You may also be surprised to see Myrtle here, but similar to Flitwick, I just love what this game did with her. Some of these could rise or drop a ranking pretty easily too. Like in hindsight, maybe I should have switched Duncan and Myrtle. It's not a big deal either way, I guess.

"Must be protected at all costs." Self explanatory. For the most part, these are all my favorite characters in the game, and the ones who I would lay down on railroad tracks for. Another character who climbed higher over time is Skye. If it wasn't for how much people message me about her, I may not have gotten quite as invested. My love for Orion is well documented, Rowan is the reason I started playing this game, Beatrice was the breakout character of Year 6, and Tulip x Merula is my OTP for this game. I could gush about any one of these kids for six paragraphs but the bottom line is that they are my favorite characters. It is at this point that we have entered "top five" territory.

"GOD TIER ~ ALWAYS" Characters who reign supreme and are factually flawless. It's not surprising to see characters like Dennis and Fang up here because critters are, generally speaking, leagues above humans simply by default. We can also see her majesty Queen Bean ruling from the sky, guarded by her champion, the arbiter known as Erika Rath. You are entitled to your wrong opinion if you fail to see the divinity of these characters.

[taehyungsgrowl]

Duncan x Sugar Babies Angst Pt 2

Can we just appreciate this gif for a moment? I forgot how much I love Duncan Shepherd. 

Thank you all for hanging in there for a year for part 2 lmfao! I hope you enjoy it!

Italics to signify time jump! I hope it makes sense lol

love you!

also...... the fact that this..... is finally out a YEAR after part 1.... what am i?? a hollywood script writer? ugh i hate myself. 

also.. this is really just one version of how the met! i know we’ve talked about different scenarios of how they came together but i liked this one for the storyline :’)

tw: duncan kink shames piss kink (as he should) jjnkdvjskv, a smutty mention, but genrerally pg-13, a lot of fluff. 

word count: somewhere over 4,000 words i think

Duncan huffed as he walked down the narrow aisle of the plane. How the airline mixed his first-class seat for an economy one was beyond him. But after a stressful conference and being away from his home for so long, he didn’t have the energy to fight them. All he wanted was for this flight to be over. 

He glanced at his boarding pass and back up to the numbers above the seats. 18 B. A middle seat. As if this could get any worse, he thought to himself. 

Duncan’s sharp blue eyes found where he would be seating; he held in a sigh as he noticed his seat mates were already in their designated seats. 

Y/N peeked up at the man who stuffed his carry on in the overhead compartment. She tried not to stare as his shirt rode up his tummy exposing a bit of skin. She looked over at her best friend, Jim who was watching out the window with his headphones in. 

“Excuse me,” the older man offered her an almost shy smile as he asked her to stand so he could take his damned middle seat. 

“Oh! Sorry!” Y/N stood from her seat allowing Duncan to squeeze in between her and Jim. 

After Duncan was seated, Y/N reached over his lap to tap Jim on the shoulder, “Sorry, sir,” she told Duncan - he lifted his hands and nodded, “You’re good.” he flashed her a quick smile. 

“What time do we land again?” she asked when Jim removed his headphones. Duncan glanced between the two; curiosity took over him as he wondered whether they were a couple. They were both very attractive, roughly around the same age, and had arrived together.

“10:00 p.m” Jim shook his head at his best friend. He loved her to death - truly. No one else could convince him to fly across the country with so much uncertainty. 

“I’m sorry,” Duncan interrupted, “If you two are.. Together, I can switch seats with one of you.”

“Oh no! We don’t mind, sir! Thank you.” she glanced at him once again. 

Duncan tried to get comfortable before the plane took off - he had a long day and an even longer flight ahead of him. 

The flight attendant started to make her way down the aisle 

“What would you like to drink,” she set down napkins on each of their trays. 

“I’ll take a Sprite,” Jim answered, giving her a sweet smile. “Me too,” Y/N echoed. 

While she worked on getting their sodas, she turned her attention to Duncan, who was taking out his AirPods, “Anything for you, sir?” 

“Scotch; neat.” he nodded, putting his earpiece back in. 

Thinking back to that flight, it’s hard for Duncan to recall how one thing lead to the next. 

Y/N, always the extrovert in Jim and Her’s duo, asked Duncan what brought him to Washington D.C. 

He told her he worked for a company there, being careful not to divulge too much personal information (like the fact that he was the heir of the company in question). 

“And you two?” Duncan glanced at Jim. Duncan wasn’t used to small talk on planes - but he had a few drinks on an empty stomach making him looser than he’d normally be. 

“Uh..” Jim hesitated, giving Y/N a panicked look. 

“Work!” she answered, 

Duncan gave her a puzzling look, but decided to not press it. 

What Duncan had expected to be a long flight, literally, flew by, with conversation with Jim and Y/N. 

They were careful not to give each other any information that felt too personal, but it was easy to just listen to his interests. 

Before they knew it, the flight was over and they parted ways. 

Duncan lingered with them as they gathered their bags. It’d been so long since he had real conversations with people who weren’t just interested in his power or company. 

Duncan watched out the window of the car that his chauffeur picked him up in as Jim and Y/N stood by the curb, fumbling with their phones for an Uber. 

‘I should have offered them a ride’, he thinks as the shrink off into the distance. 

--

Not a week had gone by since Duncan arrived back home when he already had another event lined up for the weekend. Perks of being the face of the Shepherd Foundation often times felt more like chores. 

At least the Gala was just out of a D.C and he didn’t need to worry about an airline messing up his seat again. 

He smiled and waved at the flashing cameras. 

As the night started Duncan made his way through familiar faces and strangers. A glass of champagne secured in his hand as he made rounds.

As elegant as these events were, they were often a bore - especially when he came alone. He found himself seated alone at the bar waiting for his eyes to land on someone he found vaguely interesting enough to chat up. 

His eyes scanned the room until they fell on a pair that seemed to be new comers. The woman wore a silk red gown with a low back, tracing over her figure. When Duncan turned his attention over to the man that stood by her, he realized he recognized them. 

Jim fumbled with the cuffs of his shirt, trying to keep himself together before his “date” got back to him. 

Duncan recognized them from his flight back a few days ago. Truly, D.C was smaller than he realized. He picked up his drink from the bar and strolled over to them, easy grin on his face. 

“Hey, 18 A and 18 C, right?” he glanced them up and down a bit. He almost could have gone the whole night without realizing who they were - they cleaned up so well from the old t-shirts and sweats they were wearing on the flight to the designer clothes they wore now. 

Jim felt his face go hot. Both he and Y/N had gushed over the handsome man they sat next to after that flight. 

“Hope our first clients are as hot as that guy...”

“HA!” Y/N let out a humorless laugh, “If only...”

Y/N kept her cool demeanor, offering Duncan a sly smirk.  “Hi stranger,” 

“Duncan.” his lips. tugged up into a smile, “Duncan Shepherd.” 

Y/N and Jim had assumed right to think Duncan was just the kind of guy they sought after as a client. The way he carried himself screamed wealth and power. 

“And you two are...” he raised a brow, waiting for their names. He hadn’t seen them at any other gala or even so he knew they were new comers. Maybe heirs to some fortune 500 company. His eyes wandered around the room wondering who their parents were. Duncan had the reputation of getting “inside information” on some of his competitors by pulling his charms on their trust fund babies. 

“Working,” 

Duncan chuckled, raising his champagne flute, “Work hard, play hard, right?” his gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips. 

“Duncan,” his attention was called by a big name politician that had appeared at Y/N’s side. “It’s been too long,” he extended his hand out for a shake. “Tell me, how is the development of your app coming? We really could use someone like you before reelection,” he laughed. 

Duncan didn’t fail to notice his hand on Y/N’s waist (or the tight lipped smile she had as soon as the man appeared). 

“You’ll be the first to know when it’s ready,” Duncan answered, tearing his eyes away from his hand. 

“James,” another man approached them. Duncan had seen him before at other events. The man looped his arm in Jim’s before handing him a drink. He leaned in and whispered something in Jim’s ear, making him blush. 

Duncan lingered between them, easily making conversation until both men made their rounds for more drinks, leaving him with Y/N and Jim again. 

If he knew anything, he knew the game the powerful in D.C played. And he knew well enough to know what kind of work Jim and Y/N were doing. 

“Working,” he gave them a knowing smile. He raised his flute to them before taking a long sip, drowning back his champagne. 

He watched the color flood to Jim’s cheeks again and it only made him chuckle. It wasn’t past Duncan to hire an escort. Dating as an up and coming business mogul doesn’t always allow him the time for dating or anything other than business. Sometimes, he just needed to secure his own private deals. Much less of a hassle than having to deal with the entanglements of relationships.

Duncan wasn’t a callous man. He planned on settling down at some point. He was an older bachelor. Well seasoned - he didn’t mean to sound cocky but it wasn’t that he didn't have the opportunity. He didn’t want that - not yet at least. 

“Walk with me,” he nodded his head towards the hallway. 

Y/N looked over at Jim, both exchanging in a silent conversation before following alongside Duncan. They turned the corner into a quiet hallway away from the gala. 

“You both clean up nice,” he smirked, “Although, I personally loved your airport wardrobe,” he winked. 

Y/N mirrored his smirk, reaching forward to adjust his pristine tie, “Are you wanting to talk business Mr. Shepherd? If not... our clients are waiting.”

Duncan chuckled. “I’d like to propose something more... exclusive.” He searched their eyes, smile tugging on his lips. He remembered enough about his flight with them to know he liked them. And now, seeing them look so... sexy. “Let me take care of you.” 

Jim shifted back and forth on his feet. He was sure the offered only stood for Y/N. He looked down at the floor, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Both of you,” Duncan met Jim’s eyes. 

“You two made for great... companions on the plane. If you’re willing to,” he coughed awkwardly into his fist for a pause, “extend your uh... companionship -- I can be very generous.”

“Like a sugar daddy!?” Jim finally spoke up, his voice dripping in a mixture of surprise and interest. 

Duncan shrugged easily, his thumb running over his bottom lip. “That’s one way to put it,” he bit his lip. He reached into his card holder and handed them a beautifully embossed business card. 

“Give me a call if you need to think about it. Unless you’d rather go up to my room to... discuss it further,” he chuckled. 

Y/N and Jim remember ditching their dates to follow Duncan to his suite. Hushed whispers between them as they got the courage to take up Duncan’s offer. 

None of them knew the love that was about to blossom for them that night. They sat out on the balcony of his suite, letting the cool breeze hit their skin. Always the gentleman, Duncan didn’t initiate any advances that night. He bought them room services and gave them a safe space away from the former clients. 

They curled up in the California king bed just talking like they had on their flight. 

“Uh so... what exactly do you like,” Y/N asked. She fidgeted with the gems on her dress. It was beautiful - beyond what she could ever afford, but it was starting to become uncomfortable.

“Cashmere and fine wine,” Duncan laughed, making Y/N roll her eyes. He caught her struggle with getting comfortable. He got off the bed and found his small suitcase they’d brought up for him, digging for his pajamas. He placed a few comfy items on the bed, “If you two.. wanna get more comfortable,” he smiled sheepishly. 

Y/N sat up on her knees sorting through the clothes and tossing a tshirt at Jim. “Seriously like... we have to know what you... enjoy, daddy..” she pouted, playfully testing the waters. 

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but there was no hiding the fact that he did like the sound of that. “I don’t have a piss kink or anything like that,” he scrunched his nose, “But,” he got closer, tilting her chin up, “I’d like to hear you that again for me some time.” 

--

Y/N and Jim floated back down from cloud 9 a few days later when they were back in their not to luxurious apartment. 

After that first night, they spent the next two days at Duncan’s penthouse slowly going over what the arrangement would entail (although, if they were being honest most of the time was spent between Duncan’s bed and sharing sharing pastries with Duncan on his balcony). 

Duncan pulled up up to their run down complex. He’d been having so much fun during the past few days, he didn’t want it to come to an end yet. 

Duncan didn’t say what he wanted to say, but he felt a strong distaste for where they were living. 

They’d just moved to the city and started working when they met Duncan - they were still hoping to make enough money to find a nice place. This was just a temporary stay. 

It wasn’t long before Duncan gave them an extra key to his place...

“I figured if where you’re staying is just temporary... you’d rather stay here..”

Duncan knew he could easily get them their own loft or apartment, but he was enjoying them being there more than he realized he would. 

He knew starting this arrangement would be fun. He knew he liked them. He just hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been before. 

He looked up at the ceiling as Y/N and Jim slept on either side of him... reminding himself that for them... it was just a job. A way to get their things paid for. But then again... it was he wanted, right?

Another realization that came far later for Duncan Shepherd was that to Jim and Y/N... it had also become much more than a job. 

--

For Jim, he remembers the moment he knew he was falling for not only Duncan, but his friend of many years, was on one of the first trips Duncan ever took them too. Jim had always wanted to be near the ocean. He had such bittersweet memories connected to it. But for him now, the sweetest one comes from laughing in the sand after convincing Duncan to try and surf. Y/N was rubbing sunscreen on their backs soon turning into a pile of kisses on to one another with the sunsetting softly over the horizon. 

From the beginning, it never felt “mechanical” or “strictly business” with Duncan. Not like their first few clients. It’d always been easy with Duncan. Maybe it was the initial crush Jim had developed on the plane that made the difference. Either way he knew he loved Duncan. 

--

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t have feelings for Jim before the whole affair started. She often brushed it off as just a friend crush -- but after being with him and Duncan things began to develop quickly. She loved them both so much in their own way. They each filled different parts of her heart to make her feel whole. 

The moment she knew -- the moment she took them to uncharted territory by being the first to say “I love you,” was after she’d spent the day in bed crying. Feeling so vulnerable after a hard day. She felt herself isolating herself from Jim... from Duncan. 

She remembers them silently coming into the room to hold her. Duncan let her cry on his chest while Jim played with her hair. In that moment of safety, she whispered, “I love you,” and there was no question as to who it was directed to -- because they knew she loved them both. 

--

“You want to what?” Duncan spoke, his composure faltering. “I don’t - I’m sorry.” he felt loss for words. He hadn’t noticed that his hands started to shake until Jim reached forward to take his hand in his own. 

“Shh,” Jim cooed. Duncan wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to being the one who needed to be babied. He wasn’t the one who needed his hand held, for Christ’s sake. 

“Hear us out.” Jim led Duncan down on the chair. 

“Duncan.” Y/N’s voice was clear and steady. “We don’t want to be your sugar babies anymore. We don’t want this to be…” she searched for her words, “an exchange.” 

Jim rubbed her back reassuringly. “You mean so much more to us than the nice things you buy us. We want you, Duncan. We want to end the arrangement because we want to be with you. Like, as a real relationship.” she peeked up at him from her lashes, “If you’ll have us,” she nodded her up towards Jim, who was all but vibrating next to her. 

Duncan blinked back tears. The knot in his throat made it hard for him to say anything. All he could do was nod - nod and let the tears fall freely from his eyes. 

Y/N reached up to his face, wiping it clean. “Is that a yes?” her lips tugged into a smile.

Duncan cleared his throat and took both of their hands in his, “Of course. Yes. A million times yes.” 

The way they made him feel so loved - after years of feeling like he wasn’t capable of it, and here he was -- madly in love with two beautiful souls. They wanted - they loved him for him!! He knew it in his heart before that morning but hearing it sent his heart into overdrive. 

--

He called into the office that morning to be able to spend the day with the people he loved the most. The idiots back at the Shepherd Foundation could figure it out on their own. 

After that restless night, they all needed all the R & R they could get. 

After a few mimosas and waffles, Y/N and Jim dragged Duncan out to their hot tub on their back patio. Duncan had that hot tub long before he met Jim and Y/N, but didn’t start to truly enjoy it until they moved in with him. 

Duncan sighed as he slipped into the hot water, the jet pressure working against his calves. “Well,” he smiled up at them, “Are you not going to join me?” 

Y/N smirked at him right before grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. She exposed herself completely stripping down to nothing before she slowly made it down the steps into the water, “Mhmm,” she sighed as she took a seat next to Duncan. 

Duncan chuckled softly, shaking his head, “Baby?” he called over to Jim, his hand, already wandering up Y/N’s thigh. 

Jim followed Y/N example and stripped off his clothing before climbing into the tub, on the other side of Duncan. “You’re overdressed,” Jim mumbled into Duncan’s neck, snaking his hand into the waistband of the little black trunks...

--

Duncan told himself he wouldn’t cry. After everything they’ve been through - it had led to this...

His toes dug into the white sand as he looked out into the sea. He couldn’t have chosen a better place - his their beach house was their haven. Their little slice of paradise. It was only natural for them do it there. 

Every thing was picture perfect. The sky was a beautiful array of purples and pinks, reflecting on the clear water. To his left, a gorgeous set up of candles, blankets, twinkle lights, and a picnic of his babies’ favorite treats. 

Jim and Y/N knew that Duncan had been planning something for weeks now. When he booked a getaway to their beach house, he didn’t allow them to lift a finger packing. Told them he’d take care of it all. And he did. 

He had their outfits laid out on their bed for them. For Jim, he had a thin pair of linen pants in a light sandy colored with a baby blue shirt of the same material. Y/N’s wasn’t too different. He had a white dress of the same fabric. It was soft and flowy - perfect for the beach. 

They made their way down to the beach where Duncan waited for them. He turned to face them, his hands behind his back, biting down on his lip to try and keep it together, 

He knew they were his life and he was spending forever with them.

“Duncan,” Y/N breathed out, her eyes going over the set up. She reached for his hand, “This is beautiful,” 

Duncan squeezed her hand, and took Jim’s in the other one. 

“I have something for you,” he dropped their hands and dug a little velvet bag out of his pocket. “I know there isn’t anything... traditional,” he laughed, “about our relationship, but” he pulled the string of the baggie and dumped the contents of it into his palm. He played with the cool metal, shifting them around his hand. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way and,” he paused to look into their eyes, “I’d want to spend the rest of my days with you,”

He took his time, placing a finger on Jim’s finger and then YN’s. “Since we can’t really do a courthouse wedding,” he laughed, taking both of their hand again - this time adorned with the precious jewels he gifted them, “I figured, we could do something more our style,” he gestured towards the romantic scenery he’d set. 

“Will you take me to be yours forever?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Jim and Y/N replied their “I do”’s over each other. When Jim noticed the tears pooling in Y/N’s eyes, he reached over to wipe her cheek. 

Duncan couldn’t smile any more if he tried. Jim loved the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled that big. Duncan’s hair blew softly in the gentle breeze. His peppered hair matched his graying beard, but like the fine wines he adored, he aged well. 

He pulled them closer, caressing their cheeks before kissing them. 

He loved them. Duncan Shepherd had found love.

Y/N and Jim embraced him with everything they had. They never wanted to let each other go - but when they finally did, Duncan popped the champagne, loving the way Y/N giggled when the bubbles poured out of the bottle. 

By the time they downed the champagne and cake on the beach, the buttons of Duncan’s shirt where messily unbuttoned. He had sand in his hair and lipstick marks on his neck. 

The sun was close to being gone, but the candles and fairy lights were enough for them. The were covered in the soft glow of the moon. 

Duncan’s heart felt so warm as he watched Y/N feed Jim another bite of cake. Jim’s laughter like music to his ears. Jim caught his eye and crawled over to Duncan. He swung his legs over Duncan’s thighs and sat on him. Jim took his face in his hands and kissed him tenderly. 

Jim found his place. 

He found a home with Duncan and Y/N - a home with nothing but love to offer and he was ready for it. 

They each had their space in each others hearts and it melted perfectly into who they were. 

Who would think that a day would come when Duncan Shepherd would be thanking his lucky stars for an economy flight seat?

--

Tags: @desertsunflower00 @xavierplympton @quillanpie @spoo-per @langdons-pinkyring @little-grunge-flowerz @sexwon131 @leatherduncan @royalblueviper @shenevertricks1831 @sadhoecentral @chloelucia13 @shyvirgoanon @langdonswhoreprobably @littledemondani @bitchchatter @rpwithjayn @chloelucia13 @agonydearest @midnightontheearth @7-wonders @prophecy-is-inevitable @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @wickedlangdon @fckinsupreme @michael-langdon-appreciation @jimmason @brattylovee @dark-mei-rose @lovelylangdonx @blakewaterxx @dyns33 

sorry if i missed someone!

and please LMK what you think 🥺

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD 11x03: Hunted - Details

Okay, let's talk details. At the beginning, nearly everyone gets hurt and then gets separated.

 ***As always, spoilers abound below for episode 11x03: Hunted. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

I noticed that in the opening credits, we now see the two rows of hanging bodies to represent the Reapers.

Maggie:

Elijah tries to help Maggie but is yanked backward and disappears. We don’t see him the rest of the episode. I really hope he’s okay. ☹

When Maggie is walking around alone, we see a car with an open door that's emphasized. It reminds me very much of this shot from 5x09.

@wdway​ also noticed some chevron symbols in the parking lot. (Chevron Theory)

She passes the dumpster before she actually gets into the mall building. That might be called back to Glenn. She also uses glass alcohol bottles as a warning system. I'm sure I don't have to explain the parallels there.

There's definitely a rat thing going on here, which is important because of 10x21, but I can tell you that we see (hear) it in episode 11x04 as well. I just noticed the subtitles tell us that there are rats squeaking quite a lot. After finding Negan and Alden, Negan pushes for Alden to be left behind. He doesn’t like being on the road. He says the plan is bad and unsafe.

Then they hear screaming and run toward Agatha. Duncan is hurt and clearly not going to make it. He says, "We were good. We were lucky." Both Beth lines. Maggie puts him down after promising to get Agatha home.

Now, that’s interesting to me. I said yesterday that we’re seeing a replay of Beth through many of these story lines, and I focused on Alden as a proxy. But I think Agatha is one, too. Just the fact that they talk about getting her “home,” makes her a proxy. Meanwhile, she doesn’t make it “home.” She’s bitten by a walker and left behind…in a mob of walkers. This is also where Negan drags Maggie away while she screams, “no!” Maybe indicative of her emotional response (not to mention her screaming in the parking lot of Grady) over losing Beth?

Jumping back a bit, before Agatha’s death, Maggie’s group travels through the woods. Negan and Maggie have an interesting exchange. Negan says of himself, "people change." Maggie says that no they don't.

So once again, it's called back to Beth dialogue, but Maggie is specifically harboring a belief that was the opposite of Beth's. That people don't and can't change. It's obvious that Maggie is on a very destructive path right now. She doesn’t really have faith in people, or faith that everything will work out okay. We can't be sure where this is going, but it's interesting. As I've said before, I'm sure this attitude of hers will probably end up causing drama down the road.

They happen upon a burnt walker that's tied to a tree with the sign that says Judas over his head. This super interesting. I know I have a lot of asks about this in my inbox. My first reaction is that we can tie it to the burnt walkers from 6x06, which was bursting with Beth symbolism. Since it’s obviously the CRM who was responsible for those burnt walkers, you have to wonder if there's a CRM tie here. 

We might also be able to tie this to the Governor’s episodes in 4a, where he found several decapitated corpses wearing military attire that also had signs near them like ‘murderer’ and ‘rapist.’ If nothing else, this shows that someone in the area is actually burning people for betrayal and labeling them as Judas. Doesn't exactly bode well for our group. But we don't know whether this was the Reapers or somebody else.

***Update: I wrote most of this post before seeing episode 11x04. I still think we can tie this burnt walker thematically to 6x06 and the CRM, but in terms of what is literally happening in this season, let’s just say this burnt walker will make a lot more sense after watching 11x04. I don’t want to give spoilers beyond that.***

Just before Maggie's group reaches the chapel they end up leaving Alden at, they pass green car. I don't think it's a Gremlin, like the one we saw in 7x05, but it's the same shade of green. 

And of course, we see the cross outside the church. Beth was wearing a cross bracelet in the hallway of Grady when she was shot. There are plenty of holes in the roof of the church (Hole in the Roof Theory.) At one point, Alden even says, "I'm dead weight." That was the name of 4x07, the Governor episode where they found the decapitated corpses.

At the chapel, we caught an interesting snippet of dialogue from Negan. He tells Maggie “the sun is going down” and that she’ll have to make a decision. We’ve always thought Beth would return with a dawn theme, which might mean literally that we’ll see her with a sunrise or something. So, it made me wonder if the “night” will be them fighting the conflict with the Reapers and then will return with the new “dawn.” Something like that. It might be literal or just thematic. We’ll just have to wait and see, though.

Maggie finally agrees to leave him behind, but she struggles with it mightily. They even have this really on the nose line where she says, "you better be here when I come back." And he answers, "you better come back." Think about how that would relate to Beth's arc.

Carol:

We see Carol and Kelly returning to Alexandria together. They have this whole thing where Magna thinks Carol is giving Kelly falls hope and wants her stop.

They also seem to be setting up something with Carol and Aaron. I'm not sure what it is. They're kind of at odds in this episode because he wants her to help with the walls and she wants to go track the horses. I thought it was interesting that Angela Kang, during the Inside Look bit, went out of her way to say that Carol and Aaron are not enemies. They're still good friends but they have different ideas about how to deal with the current crisis. I feel like they're setting up an arc with the two of them together.

When Carol was out looking for the horses, she finds Rosita. Rosita is scavenging MUSHROOMS. This part was super interesting because Carol tells her not to pick a certain type of mushroom unless she accidentally wants to make baby cocoa high for about a week. This is meant to be a joke, but it fits into the hallucination theory. I've noticed several mushroom mentions throughout the seasons. It’s an ongoing theme that I think ties into things not being as they seem, or a character to misunderstands or is deceived by something.

As I told my fellow theorists, I sat and thought about this for a minute. It's a little bit odd to me that they included Rosita’s response. When Carol says the mushrooms will make them high, Rosita answers, "yeah, but only for about a week, right?" It's meant to be a funny of course, and it is, but why put in a timeframe for the hallucination?

The only thing I can think of is that maybe it's a hint that the hallucinations or misconceptions people have been laboring under are about to fall away. That includes Daryl and Leah, but we can also extend it to Beth. If she lived, as we think she did, and TF think she died, then their belief in her death fits into the hallucination theory. Just thought that was interesting.

Rosita joins Carol in searching for the horses. At one point, she tells Carol about some dreams she's been having. (Kind of interesting to mention hallucinatory mushrooms and then talk about significant dreams, no?) Apparently, she's been dreaming about Abraham. She says he's trying to tell her something, something she supposed to do, something about Alexandria. But she can't actually hear what he's saying. (Hear no evil.) And just when she gets close enough to hear him in the dream, he gets shot in the head.

This is interesting on so many levels. First of all, dreams. We had the episode 6x12 of FTWD, titles, In Dreams. Abraham is a man Rosita once loved, and has lost. Most obviously, Abraham didn't die of a gunshot to the head. He died when Negan killed him. So, it feels like an excuse to mention someone being shot in the head. And of course Abraham was often a proxy to Beth. I’m definitely side eyeing this.

The other thing about this is that I've been noticing for a while that they have some big arc for Rosita coming up. They’ve done several sequences where she’s searching for weapons but is unable to find them for a time. She usually eventually finds them and uses them to somehow save the day or turn the tide of the conflict. 

We saw this in S7, and the weapon she found was Dwight, who defected and helped them win the war. We saw it during the warehouse sequence in S8 where she and Michonne were trying to stop the singing truck from going to the Sanctuary, and Rosita ended up with the rocket launcher. It’s a pattern that’s been happening for a while. I don't know how this dream of Abraham ties into that, but I’m wondering if this arc they’ve foreshadowed for several seasons is about to start playing out.

I don’t have a whole lot more to say about Carol tracking the horses, as I went over the most important stuff yesterday. I'm assuming that in this episode, that Kelly is equating the dead horses with Connie, and that's what upsets her so much.

After we see the horse run away from them, Kelly says, “fourth time’s the charm,” which means that was the third time they’d attempted it. (Rule of Threes).

When they get back to Alexandria, Carol cuts one of the horse’s throats to slaughter it for food. Aaron comes to help her, and he looks at her very compassionately.

This is also where we get the shot from inside the church with the broken window. We see Kelly come out and hug Magna, but then still go with Carol. Just really interesting symbolism there about her not giving up hope of finding her sister. I can't help but wonder if Kelly will go with Carol to look for Connie and end up finding Beth. That would be super interesting.

It also reminded me of something that happened during S9. There was an episode where Kelly got lost in the woods and Daryl and Connie went to find her. They had this really weird before-the-opening-credits sequence where we saw what was clearly a Whisperer, rather than a normal walker, coming up behind Kelly and reaching out for her, as though she was about to get kidnapped or taken prisoner. But that didn’t actually happen.

When Daryl and Connie find her, she's on her own in the woods and just dehydrated. There's definitely hallucination quality to that sequence, but I’ve always suspected it was a foreshadow of something in the future. Anyway, this is just conjecture and I'm just rambling, but these are some of the thoughts I had while watching the episode.

The kids:

There couple of charming scenes of all the kids playing together. We see them play a card game—Slap Jack, I think—at the kitchen table. Many people have noticed that this kitchen table looks a lot like the one in Alone that we saw in the funeral home. And no, it’s not the same. It doesn’t have a diamond on it, but the material and pattern look similar. Which is kind of interesting.

Actually, to me, the design looks a little reminiscent of the All-Seeing Eye, which is often seen on paper currency. So, it could be part of that theme.

Most of these are just cute scenes and Angela Kang says that part of the reason for them is that they wanted to have Judith and Herschel interact a little bit. People have also pointed out to me that when Herschel asks if any of them have ever been on the road like he was with Maggie, Judith says no, “Not like that.” Actually, she has been, but she was just too little to remember it. But this may have been a subtle reminder of 5x12.

Herschel is clearly worried about his mom and the adults who keep leaving. Judith does her best to console him. Not sure what to make of these conversations in terms of what they foreshadow. Maybe nothing. But I did enjoy watching the scenes.

Father Gabriel:

The man Gabriel kills is named Nichols. (Got that from the subtitles.) We hear him reciting the Lord's prayer as Gabe approaches. I also noticed that his shoes are not on. They are on the ground on the other side of the tree from where he’s sitting. Which might be part of the Lost Shoe/Foot symbolism.

He has an arrow in his stomach (it looks like Daryl’s) and he’s bleeding from the neck. The neck wounds are interesting because Father Gabriel got one too. It's almost as if these two mirror one another.

I mentioned this yesterday, but Gabriel says, "God is not here anymore." Just wanted to mention it again because it will be important to remember for next week when we get into 11x04.

Okay, I think that's all I have in terms of details. Anything I missed?

[thefirsthogokage]

Time to Hate-Watch Turner and Hooch, Episode 5

Because I am bored. And I hate myself. Of you aren't ok with me hate-watching and commenting, well then this is not the post you are looking for. Please move along.

Ah, yes, reminder of the love triangle they put in a kids copaganda show for the parents. Again. Because reminder: they did that last week.

Ew, bad shaky camera work.

Oh god she was listening to that music as a personal stake out sound track by choice? Like, why?

"You're all hopped up on juice boxes and I don't like it." I did like that line.

Laura is 5 years old.

I do like the theme song.

You know what also is weird about this supposed kids show? The episodes are nearly 50 minutes long. No kid is going to pay attention to that long of an episode.

So much natural lighting and making Hooch very yellow in some scenes and not others.

I'm probably too tired to watch this tonight.

Honestly that poor girl. Such a big crush on a very oblivious dipshit.

Branden is a fucking gift to this show. Again, I am just so glad he kept acting after Power Rangers SPD. Not many former PRs stay in the business, let alone get steady work. I'm really proud of him!

Rain. This show must be filmed in Vancouver. Actually, I vaguely remember hearing it was shot there. ... (Googles)... Haha

I mean, air cold enough mid-day to see their breath + rain had to = Vancouver. I mean I guess Portland too. But either way, California my ass.

Dreary natural lighting. Classic Vancouver. I can't believe anyone could actually think this would look like California.

Having Laura recognize a lot of people so that they could give her information to make her getting the information super easy is certainly a choice... by writers who don't want to work to hard. Then again, I think this is supposed to be a a family friendly show...kind of. Line, this isn't a straight up specific demographic this is targeted towards. They just have done a few things I absolutely would not put in a kids show this day and age. Like, it honestly so bizarre to watch.

I'm not fond of stories like this. Guy is getting married, all aspects of the case have a relation to weddings. It's just too much happenstance in this episode. And I'm tired, I should have very little ability to notice most of the is shit tonight.

Oh god, this would be so painful if I wasn't so sleepy. Like, what the fuck are you doing, Laura. Well, at least this is showing Lyndsy's versatility and expressiveness. My god this is such a different character then Alex on Nikita.

Tired sidenote, my watermelon is very good.

Laura gets up to leave after getting this woman to hang out with her. The woman has to remind her that she doesn't know where she lives. I liked that.

"Thank you for your never-ending aquatic references." Ok, this show does have some good lines.

(This is honestly like kind of watching Lucifer. I hat the show, but occasionally there are so lines that I really like. Though I did stop watching Lucifer because I just hated it too much. I was only watching it out of boredom.)

I am really glad that they have a Native guest star. It's nice to see more Native rep on shows the past couple years.

Messaging: Kids, you gotta stand up for other kids being bullied because you are just as bad as the bullies if you just stand there. I'm really ok with this messaging. Good job, so that I mostly don't like.

I'm sorry, I'm so tired.

"His name was Jean-Luc-" Me: stares at camera in 'Robert Duncan McNeill directed this episode and is the primary Executive Producer on this show.'

For those of you who don't know, RDM was Tom Paris in Star Trek Voyager and a character who's name I can't remember that he also played on Star Trek TNG.

Fun fact, Tom Paris was initially going to be the same character he played on TNG, but something about rights blah blah blah, made that a no-go.

Sorry, back to me hate-watching while tired.

Oh god there are 21 minutes left.

Why is Laura holding a guinea pig? And why does she have a karaoke machine?

Why is Branden's character having a romantic time with his fiance while on a case? Ugh, the unprofessionalism. Like, aren't they only a two hour drive from home? Why is this happening? Do they think of distance like the British? Or people who live in Saint Louis? (Seriously, in Saint Louis some people think 20 minutes is a long drive. Granted, ten minutes is a long drive for me, but the position I have to sit in to drive really aggravates my Interstitial Cystitis (meaning I have to pee so, so bad the whole time I am in the car)).

I want to take this moment to apologize. I am very sorry about the tangents and the personal health and whatnot. But at this point I'm too tired to go bad and delete things or care about what else I'm going to write, so I'm just going to keep going without my filter on. Of you make it through this whole thing with me, bless you you sweet, sweet, probably bored soul.

🎶Ooo Heaven is a place on earth 🎶

Oh god, so much tomato stuff. All over the bathroom. The very white bathroom. Good luck with that...Scott? Is that our main characters name? Scott? I don't care to look it up at th- yeah it's Scott, Laura just said it.

Uh, shouldn't that have been made of metal? Either way, shitty craftsmanship if the dog could break it that easily.

That can't be how you train a bomb sniffing dog.

No way someone who's been a police officer for a few years wouldn't know that there are drugs on literally every bill.

Again, family show why?

Neither of them thought there would be a back door?

This while thing is insane. Not in anyway that I find entertaining. But I'd probably be more pissed if I it was more conscious. You should probably be reading all of my angry sounding things as just very tired and a bit sedate because of the tiredness.

I'm sorry Branden's character was a soldier in combat and he's never been shot? Unless I'm misremembering. But seriously, he doesn't know what getting shot in the vest fells like.

Oh look, the girlfriend fires at vehicles driving towards her too. In the same episode..I hate when things are related like that. Not upper level writing.

Why was the Secret Service also looking for those people? What? That can't possibly be their preview.

(Before I finished the episode, I discovered that for the second time this week, I did not get to the litter box fast enough (as in since this morning) to prevent my cat from moving the liner enough to pee between it and the box. So, at 11pm I had to go clean that out.)

Like this guy wouldn't know that he was copping to extortion by saying that.

God, why are they making this case the dad was working on (stupid arching plot in a family tv show why? For the adults who can tell this show is bad already?) even more complicated? Like, is this going to get Heroes level stupidly complex? Because that shit killed that show. Ok, so it probably won't be that bad...just the kids show equivalent of that bad.

Oh good for you, girl who's name I never learned! Quit the job with the evil boss! Please let her be OH NATALIE! Once again, thank you Laura for saying the name of the character whose name I wasn't sure of. What was I saying... Of yeah, I hope Natalie comes back and wasn't just on one episode. More native characters on TV please!

Oh wait, am I just realizing the girls in the live triangle were both on Glee, or did I remember that in a previous post? I know they were both on Glee from the moment I saw them in this show, but, like, I somehow didn't realize it was a very mini Glee reunion when they were in the same scene?

Wait, where did Scott wash Hooch if it wasn't in his own place the first time? Where was that bathroom? Wait, unless this isn't the bathroom in him home? I was definitely too tired to watch this. That might be saving me on the anger level, but it's certainly making it a bit difficult to keep track of some stuff.

Oh bad edit/consistency moment with the foam on Scott's face. Always hating to me.

Episode over.

Closing Thoughts: This show is still driving me insane with it's not on point demographic aiming and just silliness that isn't really good-silly, more like bad-silly. Also, I'm tired.

[sp00kworm]

SIREN (A Monster Metal Band)

Chapter 1 - Meeting the Band

Pairings: Various Monsters x Reader

---

---

“And today we have some very, very special guests with us in the studio!” The radio-announcer cooed over the microphone, into the silence of your tense apartment. You turned up the volume, clutching the pillow in your lap and your phone in the other. “With us today we have the up and coming band SIREN!” He roared as the microphones turned on for the men and they laughed over the stereo. You clutched your pillow tighter as the interview started for real.

“Here in the studio with us today we have the entirety of the band line-up. Vocalist, Zadok. Lead guitarist, Duncan. Rhythm guitarist, Senoz. Bassist, Blagden. And our favourite drummer, Khadba!” They thanked the announcer with a chorus of gentle laughter, and you readied the dial up number, knowing exactly where the interview was going.

“So, we all know that you guys are performing in our city in a few days’ time. I’m sure every fan listening is excited for the show! You have some real reputation, guys, truly.” The announcer laughed with them before he started with the questions, “So, Zadok, rumour is that you’ve been recording some new vocals with famous artist Lady Conch?”

 Zadok’s gentle laughter hummed through your speakers, “It’s an ongoing project, but she’s a lovely woman. We’ve worked together before and I’ve appeared in her solo work before. It’s hard to find male Mers for her music so we’re basically friends at this point.”

“Interesting!” The announcer hummed, “I never thought that would be an issue for merfolk in music, but you learn something new every day!” He continued, “Duncan! How about that new guitar deal you and Senoz have with Irontars?”

Duncan huffed over the microphone before Senoz laughed and started the explanation, “We have a new deal with specific models around our specific tastes. Duncan has a very uhh…” Senoz clicked and cackled, his voice echoing strangely, “Dark taste. It looks like a very big axe. I went for a slicker look but it’s a lot of flames.” He cackled.

“We’re a metal band, Senoz. I can go as dark as I like.” Duncan said gruffly before adding, “I like my guitars like I like my partners.” He purred, “Sharp and a bit insane.”

 The announcer laughed it off before continuing on through the last question, “Here I have an interesting question from a fan for Blagden! They asked just how it is on tour while catering to such a very specific diet?”

Blagden hissed before answering, “Bicorn diets aren’t that hard to get. Mostly meat. But I can eat everything other people can. Zadok and I go fishing when we’re at the coastal cities. Fresh is better but no.” He leaned into the microphone, “I don’t have to eat people’s husbands.” He huffed and you heard the sound of hooves clacking against the floor as he settled back into his seat.

“A good revelation, thank you for answering.” The announcer added as he reached his final question, “Khadba, our favourite new addition. Before this, the band ran on hired drummers for each tour, so, how does it feel being a permanent member with this new album?”

Khadba coughed awkwardly, “It’s been a ride, but I’d say that the music is much, uh…” He stuttered for a moment, “The music is much more personal with me I’d say. I’ve had a long time to get to grips with the music in recording and even before this I was a fan of the guy’s work.”

Blagden growled, “He’s a fucking liar. He practically told us our tempo was garbage. Zadok hired him on the spot after one sound test!”

Duncan roared with great laughter, “It was a time. I’ve never had someone tear my work to pieces so well!”

 The announcer laughed with them before he went back to the audience, “Now, let’s play a song from the new album! This one is called Deep Dark featuring some very special vocals from your deep-sea merman, Zadok.”

“You’re too kind.” Zadok hummed before the voices cut out and the song blended into being, beginning with that could only be described as merfolk speak. You relaxed gently against the cushions as the gentle bubbling voice rang out. You looked at your coffee table and snatched up the latest issue of Metal Talks, admiring the front. There was a glossy latest picture of the band on the magazine. Zadok’s white eyes were close to the camera lens, his white skin glowing with purple bioluminescence as he opened his mouth full of sharp long teeth for the camera. Duncan was perched in the back with his axe guitar gripped in one hand, his body covered in black fur. Duncan was the largest member, a giant black, curly haired Minotaur with curly tresses that hung between his two great ivory coloured horns, covering his great green eyes. Senoz was a grey skinned demon, his four, blue eyes glinting with mischief as he too posed with his guitar, decked in skin-tight leather and heavy metal cuffs, his three tails poised up behind him. Blagden, the Bicorn was truly petrifying with his black thoroughbred, sleek fur rippled and his great mouth open to expose his predator teeth. You traced a finger over his dual black, unicorn horns and the curling pair of ram horns behind his ears, admiring his great shaggy mane. Khadba was placed in the back, his arms crossed and drumsticks in one hand. His moss coloured skin and grey steel eyes were intimidating, his face and ears littered with piercings to match the gruff look on his face. You admired the tattoos over his arms depicting burning skulls and giant demons before the song drew to a close.

 “After that zinger we’re back in the studio with SIREN!” The announcer called and you readied yourself as the bit you had been waiting for finally arrived, “And now, we get to the part you’ve all been waiting for, the giveaway.” He hummed, “Today, from the charitable guys here, we will be giving away an exclusive early entry ticket and backstage pass for the gig!” The guys hooted in the studio before going quiet as the man shuffled his papers, “The question is…” You felt your heartbeat in your chest as you listened with bated breath, “How long is Duncan’s guitar solo in the song ‘Burn’?” He quickly read out the number for the call lines.

“You know, I don’t even remember how long that solo is.” Duncan huffed before grumbling.

Senoz cackled, “I know!” He jeered before Duncan snorted hotly at him.

“The lines are open! Get those guesses in!”

You tapped the call button and prayed to all that was good in the world that you would get through with your guess. It was the longest solo in the band’s discography. You knew you had a chance.

 The phone was quickly busy in the studio and you listened to the hold music with your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying at the skin as person after person guessed, and was met with the loud siren. Incorrect. Fifteen people in a row guessed it incorrectly. You were in with a chance.

“And now we have another guess on the line! Tell us your name sweetheart!” The announcer said. Suddenly, you realised that he was speaking in your ear as well.

“Uhm… Oh gosh…” You stuttered your name and listened to announcer.

“Now, let’s have your guess. How long is Duncan’s guitar solo in the song ‘Burn’?” He tapped the countdown effect.

“Good luck, darling.” Zadok’s lilting voice tickled your ear.

You took a deep breath before replying, “The solo is one minute and forty-seconds long.”

Silence. You felt your heartbeat in your stomach.

“CORRECT!”

“Fuck me. I didn’t even come close and it’s my solo. Well done.” Duncan hummed down the microphone as the rest of the band laughed and chuckled behind him.

“You’ve won the backstage pass and early entry ticket!” The announcer cheered before you were quickly snapped onto the line for your address and name for the premium postage and for the band’s team to know who you were. Your mouth hung open before you quickly coughed and started to try and rattle off your address to the woman, brain frazzled and still in disbelief.

 “What?!” Tom shouted from behind the bar, “You won?!” He howled in disbelief, before he slammed his fists against the countertop, “I’ll give you the money for the other ticket!” He begged, “I wanna go and you have a spare ticket now!” The brown-haired werewolf grinned with pointed teeth before clutching his hands together, “Please!” He begged again, “I’ll get on my knees for it!”

“Tom, please just chill out!” You begged with a laugh as you tucked your bag away under the bar, “You give me the money and I’ll give you my standard ticket, stop freaking out!” You promised as you struggled to tie your apron behind your back.

“Here. Let me give you a hand.” Tom tugged the ties tightly and deftly tied a knot around your waist before he let you turn back around and stroked at his beard with a clawed hand. It was a sign he was close to the full-moon and his shift, “How about we meet for a drink then before?” He asked, deep brown eyes glinting.

“No can do! The backstage stuff starts super early and I don’t want to be drunk and meet them all. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself.” You lamented, “Do you remember when we saw Clutch after their show?”

 Tom barked a great, gruff laugh at the memory of the gig you had gone to when you were both younger, “Of course I do! How could I ever forget?” He teased, “You went flying over Rakesh’s tail!” He chuckled and wiped a glass down, “Your face met the concrete, after you cracked his ass on the way down.”

“Oh great, I’m glad you got a laugh out of it!” You bumped your hip against him with a scowl before tugging at the tail poking through the back of his jeans, “I wasn’t laughing! He nearly tore me apart!” You huffed, “Such a highly strung dude…” s

“You’re telling me!” Tom huffed, “I nearly had to shift and throw him off!” He tapped the top of his arm, “He got in that bite, which hurt like a motherfucker for three weeks, by the way.” He stuck his long tongue out at you and scratched at his brown curly hair, his hairy arms exposed out of the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

“Boo hoo.” You joked, “You’re big enough to punch a Naga, so I’m sure you can take the consequences of it.” With a smile you took out a new bottle of whiskey for the premium top shelf brands, “But again, thank you, I might have ended up in a mess without you there…well and security.” You hummed as you sorted the shelves, stood on top of the stool.

“Be careful.” Tom grumbled as he went past you, “We don’t want you spanking a customer on the way down.” He joked.

“Fuck off, Tom.” You snarked back at him.

 The ticket arrived the next day, and you rushed from your sofa when the delivery man knocked on the door, keen to sign for them and stash them away for the show. The postman jumped as you slammed the door open and turned his pad towards you with the parcel in one hand. After signing he handed you the thick, padded envelope and then nodded, quick to leave you to your ticket and pass. You grinned and stashed them in your lockable drawer before gushing to Tom over the phone. The night of the show came slowly. You had to work up until the day, and every shift had felt like it had taken an eon. Everything was slow and long, but finally the day arrived. Your instructions were to arrive about two hours before the main opening time, where the venue staff would greet you and take you through to the backstage. You were allowed to see the backstage operations before meeting the band you were far too obsessed with. At least, you reasoned, you weren’t like the fans stealing hair. You’d seen a lot of horror stories online. You admired the band members and you wished you could explain it without sounding very small and sad.

 The concert hall was giant. It was an arena which accepted shows of all kinds. You looked up as you walked inside the doors to the ticket booth. There was security everywhere. A pair of Orc security guards watched you curiously as you smiled at the venue staff and showed them the personalised pass. It was pictures with a picture of the band on hard plastic, like a credit card.

The woman behind the desk grinned, “Boys! You’ve got someone to show around!” She wiggled her finger at the two security guards and watched them huff before she collected her clipboard and handed you a printed tote, “That’s for your merchandise choice. Now, if you’d like to come this way these two handsome Orcs will show you to the backstage.” She cooed.

“Hey. I’m Frank. This is Droz.” The elder Orc shook your hand, his greying hair tied back in a long traditional braid. He was the typical soft green colour but Droz was a charcoal grey, his eyes red and his tusks large and more prominent. Droz was studded and pierced in most places, his hair cut short and styled into a wicked hawk down the middle of his head. He nodded at you but didn’t say anything.

“Ignore him. He’s quiet.” Frank cackled before shoving his elbow into Droz’s gut and opening the door for you towards the main stage area, “Comes with being part Gargoyle.” He snarked at Droz. The other male tailed behind the two of you but opened the rail for you to go behind the barrier.

“This is the way you’ll come out to watch the show later as well.” Frank added as he showed you through the curtains.

 Your heart slammed against your ribs as you clutched at your pass over your chest, holding it tightly, like a life line, as Frank showed you past the curtain and into the mess of road crew and wiring.

A heavy hand laid itself on your shoulder, “They’re good guys.” Droz rumbled behind you, “Don’t be nervous.”

You huffed awkwardly, “That’s easy to say but hard to put into practice.”

Droz shrugged, “I know but it’s good to hear it.”

“That’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say, Droz.” Frank joked as he navigated through the roadcrew and made it into the back area of the venue. There was a very long corridor in the back with the dining area, small kitchen and shower room with areas for both the crew and band to chill out. You looked at the dingy hallway and felt your anxiety skyrocket.

“No need for the fright. They’re all in the lounge area waiting for you, all dolled up and pretty.” Frank chuckled before opening the door halfway down the left side of the corridor. He opened the door, and you hid behind Droz before daring to peer inside.

 The entire band went quiet as Frank slammed the door against the wall. Duncan’s forest green eye peered through the curls of his hair between his horns and he grinned with flat teeth as Zadok and Senoz span around quickly.

“Can you put your tails away you freak?” Zadok smacked at Senoz’s ass as the demon grinned, crazed, his four eyes blinking in pairs as he slinked closer to catch a glimpse of you. Droz rolled his eyes and shoved you into the room before offering a shrug and closing the door, leaving you with Frank and the band.

“This is our cute little winner I take it?” Senoz purred as he took your hand and bowed, pressing it to the hot skin of his forehead as Zadok battled against the tails twisting and smacking to greet you.

“Yep. This is the lucky one.” Frank confirmed, “Play nice, hm? You need to get the photoshoot and autographs out of the way and give away the merch.” He clicked a pen and snapped it against his itinerary before waving himself out of the door.

 “We always play nice.” Zadok’s low timbre vibrated as his gills flipped and shut tight against his neck. The singer was dressed in sheer fabric, the netting showing his torso off, and tight leather trousers. He offered you his white scaled hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m going to assume we don’t have to introduce ourselves, but for the sake of politeness, I am Zadok.” He shook your hand and smiled, white eyes and teeth exposed as his skin rippled with a deep blue light, “As for the rest of these hooligans then. Senoz is the drooling idiot next to you.”

“Rude as fuck.” Senoz snapped at the smaller male, blue eyes burning before he went back to sit next to Duncan, squeezed in on the sofa next to the Minotaur. The rhythm guitarist was dressed in a leather waist coat and tight trousers, his tails punched through a great hole in the back.

“Duncan, the man behind the longest guitar solo in our history.” He joked as Duncan flipped his hair back between his horns and waved once, uncrossing his hooves off the table and placing them on the floor. He was dressed only in a pair of leather trousers with a thick, pair of suspenders over his shoulders, showing off the piercings in his nipples.

“A pleasure.” Duncan nodded and flicked his tail at Senoz and his wiggling.

“Over in the armchair is Khadba. He’s warming up his arms so forgive him if he doesn’t wave.”

Khadba nodded his head at you but didn’t say anything as he drummed his sticks on a warm up pad, heavy arm muscles straining against the simple band shirt and his cargo shorts hiding very little of his legs, decorated with chains and bones.

“And last but not least, Blagden.” The Bicorn snorted at you but waved one hand before he kicked at Khadba’s stand and hissed at the Orc’s anger. His mass of flowing silks swayed with him as he reached to prune at his hair.

“Fuck off, Blag. I’ll put you through the chair.” Khadba growled as he tossed his great black braid down his back, the rings in his hair clicking. The Bicorn tugged at his tusks and the Orc was quick to kick Blagden’s backwards knee, grinning at the pain he had caused.

 “Its lovely to meet you all.” You croaked before uttering your name and trying your best to smile without freaking out.

“You have a cute name.” Senoz purred as Duncan’s eye peered through his curtain of hair.

Duncan huffed at him, “Can you please stop laying it on so thick. No one wants to sleep with you.”

“That wasn’t my intention.” Senoz grinned at you, “But if you’re down, sweet thing, I can show you what all my mouths can do.” He purred before Zadok clawed at his scalp and threw the Demon’s head back towards Duncan.

“Keep yourself in line.” Zadok warned, “This is a fan. The media is watching.” His bioluminescence burned into an angrier looking pink before he smiled at you with long, thin sharp pointed teeth.

“He’s right, as always.” Blagden’s black eyes fixed on you before he held up a purse mirror to groom his hair around his horns, “How about we have a drink and a chat, hm?” The Bicorn reached for a beer on the table and threw his long face back to drink the great bottle, pouring it past his sharp teeth.

“What do you drink?” Khadba asked quietly as he stood up, placing his sticks on top of his padded stool.

You took a deep breath as Duncan made space for you to sit, “Something strong, please.” You begged quietly.

 Zadok gave a great, hissing laugh at you and he took hold of his own drink, “Just a bit nervous, huh?” He asked gently as he sat in one of the armchairs.

You let out a sigh, “I’m shitting myself.” You confessed, “You guys are my favourite band and I just… Everything I want to say sounds super lame and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Duncan eyed you, “You’re not goin’ to fuck it up, sweetheart.” He snorted, the ring in his nose bouncing as he spread his furry arms over the back of the seat, “We’re not exactly prim or proper.” He rolled his green eyes and scratched at the base of one of his horns.

“Especially not Duncan. He comes from a farm.” Senoz cackled, the noise echoing mysteriously in his body.

“I’ll puncture your other arse cheek.” Duncan thumped at the demon, “Farm work is the reason I don’t look like a twiggy mother fucker.”

“Boys. We have a guest.” Zadok scolded them both with a hiss, the bony fins on his head flaring.

“Here.” Khadba placed a Vodka and mixer in front of you, “To take the edge off.” He smiled before returning to his seat with a large Orcish mead.

“Thank you.” You smiled and took a drink before realizing just how strong it was, “Maybe only the one for me.” You joked.

 “So, on to the actual part of this contest win!” Senoz clapped and Zadok reached for the list itinerary with a curse.

“Merchandise?” He asked the room.

Duncan stood up, his curly hair rippling down his back as the sofa bounced back into shape, relieved of his weight, “They put it back here.” He rumbled as he opened a big box labelled ‘exclusive’ and peered inside. He pulled free a shirt before huffing, “How about you come choose, eh?” He left it open and moved aside for you to squeeze in and look.

“Holy shit. This is exclusive Fanclub stuff!” You cursed as you pulled free the shirt, lanyard, and various stickers. You looked at the pin badges before there was another item that caught your eye, “They made plushies?!” You cooed as you dragged free the soft plush of Duncan.

“When the fuck did they make that?” He looked at you and laughed, a great bark of one breath before he shrugged and pulled his hair from his eyes, “Fine just take it. Before I change my mind. You want one of each of the rest too?”

“Please. Oh gosh, thank you so much.” You let Duncan dump the rest of the items in your bag.

“Where’s the plushies of the rest of us?” Senoz whined as he peered into the box, “No way there’s only Duncan!?” He hissed, “Bull shit.”

“Too bad, Senoz. You’re not kid friendly enough.” Blagden hissed at him as he took great pleasure in peering at what else they had to do, “Picture as well.” His talon tapped the list and Zadok nodded before he shouted for Frank.

 “Behaving?” Frank asked as he walked in, “Or are you calling me in to drag Blagden off someone?” He chuckled before Zadok leaned back and tapped the clipboard.

“We need the photographer.” The merman smiled.

Frank nodded, “Sure. I’ll go and grab him. Best get situated. He’ll not want to be in here long.” Frank closed the door behind him with a click and you took another calming breath before you tucked away your bag and chugged the rest of your drink in an effort to calm yourself down.

“Don’t make yourself sick!” Khadba chuckled as he tucked his braids back over his shoulder.

“That’s not a good look on a photo.” Senoz teased before walking around you and looking at your outfit.

“Mate. Stop it. It’s concerning.” Duncan pulled him into the sofa and smacked his hoof against the Demon’s leg.

“Now then,” Zadok smiled, “What sort of poses are you wanting. Obviously we can’t do anything sexual or which could injure us.”

Blagden chortled before purring, “I don’t think that’s what Lady Conch had to say last time you saw her.” The guys shook their heads, “I heard you two through the walls.”

“Enough, Blagden.” Khadba sneered, “Fan in the room.” He punched the Bicorn none too gently, “Remember your fucking manners.”

 “Uhm.” You tried to ignore the fury on Zadok’s face, “I would just like a big group photo if that’s okay? Maybe with you guys all crowded around and me in the middle. Maybe we could do some funny back to back things?” You asked quietly to the three men around you.

“Sure thing.” Zadok smiled thinly, “Duncan will have to crouch big style.” He teased.

“Not my fault you’re all fucking tiny.” The Minotaur clicked his tongue.

“I suppose it isn’t.” Zadok looked down at the list in his lap before humming, “This has been kind of lame…” He clicked his fingers, “How about single portraits with each of us too? We’ll sign each.” He smiled.

“How about you actually talk to ‘em huh?” Senoz shook his head and smiled, touching a tip of a horn before he offered his hand, “What do you do for a living?”

You swallowed, “I just work in a bar.” Awkwardly, you continued, “Me and Tom, my friend, we always go and see shows like these and dream about having a rock bar. The place we work is this trucker place. The music is decent, but it gets rowdy.” You laughed, “But its purely luck I won this…” You hung your head, “I’m glad I did…You guys are my heroes. I listened to everything. Anything new from when you first supported Howl. It was just so pretty and hard! Amazing!” You gushed, “All your music has got me through some hard stuff and I just felt like I should tell you all that.”

 “Here.” Khadba stood over you, offering a tissue, “You’re crying.” He hushed you.

“I’ve never heard anyone talk about our stuff like that.” Duncan wrapped a warm arm around you and gave you a squeeze as Zadok sat in silence.

“I’m glad it makes you happy.” Blagden offered from across the room.

Senoz nodded, “Music is the soul. If it helps you heal, then that’s good enough for all of us.” He patted your head and you wiped at your makeup before blubbering.

“Thank you for listening to us.” Zadok whispered, his fins flattening against his skin, “To know my work makes you feel such things. That is enough for me to continue to sing.” He touched your hand with his cool fingers before Frank opened the door with the photographer.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asked with a glare at the band.

“Yeah.” You sniffled, “I’m alright!” With a smile you stood up and binned the tissue, “I think I know exactly what kind of photo I want to have!”

The photographer pinched his nose and peered over the top of his sunglasses, “I haven’t got all day, you know.” He lisped a little and you noticed the red eyes. He was a vampire, “I have to set up with the media.”

“Come on.” Duncan barked a laugh again as he led you over to the backdrop set up in the corner.

 “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Frank asked as he helped you hop over the barrier to stand right in the centre stage. You were ready, having left your bad with Frank and Droz in the back, your new shirt pulled on after peeing. You were set for an awesome night. Before Frank could ask you another question, Khadba appeared from behind the curtain with a plastic cup in hand.

He waved once as he strode over, his rings and chains clinking before he offered you the cup, “A drink. On me.” The Orc nodded and smiled, revealing the silver rings around the base of his tusks, “I was easier on the Vodka.” He promised as he left you with Frank, “Have a good time, alright?”

“Thank you, and I will, I promise.” You shouted with a smile as he headed back behind the curtain, “You can go as well, Frank. I’ll be fine! People will be heading inside soon, and I know you have some checks to do.” You smiled, “Thank you for looking after me. You’ve been wonderful.”

“You’re very welcome.” He grinned with a nod, “Now you be careful. They’re no doubt going to get very rowdy.” He wagged his finger before disappearing behind the curtain. You nursed your drink for a few moments more before the curtain twitched again and Blagden appeared.

His black eyes quickly caught sight of you, and he huffed before offering you a small, plastic case, “Don’t burst your eardrums, cutie.” He tossed you the purple case, “Its going to get loud.” He made a horns sign at you before sauntering away, his heavy hooves clicking as his slick black fur disappeared back behind the curtains. You opened the case and looked at the industrial earplugs before smiling and slipping them into your pocket for the gig. The doors slammed open behind you, and you braced yourself for the onslaught of people as you texted Tom to elbow his way to the front.

 Tom shouted your name as he made his way close and you were quick to snag him by the shirt and pull him into the gap next to you. The werewolf was far less monstrous today. His eyes were still bright and orange, but he was not sporting his tail and snout.

“That crowd right there was a nightmare.” He sighed with relief as he laid his forearms on the banister and shuddered, “How was the meet?” Tom teased as he tugged his unruly hair backwards, “Did you suck face?”

“Absolutely not!” You smacked at his arm, “I had a bit of a cry, we had loads of pictures and I hung out with possibly the coolest band ever.”

“Oh, so just the normal then?” Tom snarked, “That sounds amazing. Sounds like you had fun.”

“Here look!” You showed him your phone and grinned clicking on the camera album, “They’re all very sweet.” The pictures were very safe. Zardok had his arm around you, his fingers up in the sign of the devil. Duncan was looming over the back of you with a monstrous glare. Senoz covered your eyes and opened up his mouth in a scarily wide grin. Khadba’s was a little awkward but he was smiling softly as you held his drumsticks with a smile. Blagden had you pose back to back with him, his snout tossed in the air like a regal pony.

 Tom gave you a smile, “Honestly, I’m really happy for you…Though I am jealous Duncan isn’t cold in only suspenders and trousers.”

“Tom he is covered in curly fur!” You laughed as you slipped your phone away, “You’re the same when you shift!”

The werewolf hummed, “But would I wear leather suspenders? I think not.” He snapped his fingers at you before looking at the empty drink in your hand, “They’ve fed you alcohol? Lord save us all.” Tom mocked a prayer before you elbowed his side.

“Khadba gave me one!” Tom went cross-eyed to look at your one finger held up to his nose, “I’ve had two in total and that’s it. I promise.”

“Maybe I needed to word my warning a little more strongly.” He tutted before laughing at you, “You’re dangerous with one. Let’s see how you manage two making you do stupid things.”

“I’ll be fine, Tom. Stop being such a mother hen.” You joked before taking a sharp breath as the room was plunged into pitch black.

“I hope you brought your wig.” Tom teased next to your ear, “Because we’re about to get our hair fucking singed off.”

The darkness made the fans in the arena roar with joy and you grinned as the support act appeared on the stage, guitars held up for the audience to see.

“Well, maybe not just yet.” Tom lamented before readying himself at the front for the show.

 The support band were excellent, and you cheered at the front after their performance, already sweating and far too hot. Tom grinned before going to fetch you both a drink. He returned with cold plastic cups.

“Water, I promise.” He clinked his plastic cup with your own and pulled his hair back away from his face as you looked at the stagehands drop a great sheet cover over the stage. It was dark and they worked by torchlight to set up for SIREN.

“I’m so excited.” You cooed, “I never thought I’d see this…”

“Come on, don’t get all gooey on me.” Tom chuckled and grinned with sharp canines as he shrugged his flannel off to expose his own band shirt, “I’m excited as well. This is going to be insane!” He laughed, “So much better than their support show.” He looked wistfully at the stage and downed the rest of his drink just as the lights snapped off. The crowd roared behind you and you threw your cup over the barrier as you bounded against it and peered up as something was placed in the centre of the stage behind the sheer purple curtain.

 There was a rumble over the speakers before the purple sheet dripped down to the floor. There was a pitch-black tank in the centre of the stage. A great hissing noise blended into something close to a whale song before white light lit up the water. The crystal-clear water held Zadok. His white skin glowed with burning purple light as he twisted in the water, a microphone taped to his chest and throat as his eyes opened, pure white. His mouth opened to reveal clear needle-like teeth as he released another great bellowing noise into the dark room. It was silent otherwise, except for Zadok’s haunting song. You peered into the water as he twisted and released a series of clicks as water began to slosh and crash in the speakers. The merman’s claws and webbed hands reached out of the water before he pulled himself free of the water and slid into the darkness of the stage, his bioluminescence lighting his path as he let out a gentle noise and merged into a soft human sounding lilt. Your mouth hung open in awe as he stood at the front of the stage, humming before he opened his mouth wide.

“And now we stand. Silent. Darkness.” There was a pause before his eyes flashed and he hissed, “THE COLD DARK WATER.”

 Suddenly, the spotlights flashed as Khadba’s cymbals crashed and the guitars roared three chords together. Blagden’s bass rumbled on in the background as the guitar rolled with a lilting scale and Zadok continued to sing centre stage, dripping water from his skin as he kneeled at the front of the stage, glowing brilliantly as the lights died and flashed once more with another thunderous crash and guitar strum. There was silence before the guitars wailed and the song truly began and you looked up as the crowd roared, listening to the beginnings of the chorus eagerly before the water crashing started again and Zadok’s haunting melody reverberated around the stadium. Tom jumped with a cheer next to you as the song grew into a thunderous noise like water crashing against the cliffs, and you watched Zadok fall to his knees as the storm calmed and the water settled. He settled down and hummed into the microphone as he finished the gentle ending. The guitars faded as the spotlights went off one by one and you grinned as the water trickled and dropped to a stop. The crowd cheered and you smiled as the lights came on properly to reveal the band.

“Are you motherfuckers ready for some mind-blowing music?!” Zadok screamed at the audience as Duncan’s guitar gently plodded onwards with an intermediate tune. Blagden sauntered over to him, his bass rumbling as he grinned and the two of them stood back to back as Zadok introduced the next song.

“Now this one is an oldie. A very old song named Blood.” He purred before Senoz grinned and started the introduction riffs.

 “AND NOW ITS TIME TO BURN!” Zadok howled into the microphone sometime later. Duncan thudded to the front of the stage, slick with sweat, his curly hair tossing left and right as he slammed one hoof on top of the box and slapped at his bare chest. The crowd cheered as both Senoz and Duncan started the song. With a huff and a toss of his head, Duncan launched himself into the solo, his finger dancing over the frets as he felt the music in his legs, stomping on top of the box as Zadok headbanged towards the others, growling low into the microphone occasionally as Duncan’s fingers tore down the frets in another feat of speed. You screamed at the front as he ducked low, his hair flying over the top of his horns as he continued into a reverb before throwing the plectrum down to you with a wink and a great shake of his head, his fur rippling as he stomped his way over to Senoz to continue the song. You held the plectrum tightly to your chest. In the middle of the show you watched Senoz and Blagden butt heads in the middle of the stage, their horns rammed together as the song blurred into the next, stomping and kicking at each other’s legs as they battled each other in how fast they could strum their way up and down the necks of their guitars. Khadba interrupted their duel with a crashing solo, his tattooed arms bulging with overworked muscles as he spun his stick between beats, sweating in the heat of the spotlights. The crowd roared at the solos and screamed with Zadok until it was the end of the show, and the band stood to take the applause, sweating, panting and smiling as the crowd clapped and cheered.

 Tom grinned at the end of the show, his eyes wild with happiness as you both stood still, waiting for the rest of the crowd to filter out of the hall. You smiled at the stage as the crew were quick to start cleaning up.

“That was insane.” He huffed, his shirt tucked into his jeans as he wiped at the sweat on his chest, “Where’s all your stuff?” Tom asked with curious, half-shifted yellow eyes, snorting softly with the excitement of the gig still burning his nerves.

You smiled and pointed to the curtain, “Backstage. I think Droz will have them. He’s security. We might have to wait a little bit to see him though.”

“Oh, getting in with the security as well I see!” Tom teased, “Who’s that waving at you? Through the curtain there.” He pointed again and you squinted at the grey hand.

“That’ll be Droz.” You whispered as the last few stragglers collected stray plectrums and setlists before it was just the two of you. Tom shrunk away as the intimidating frame of the Orc hybrid came into view. He held you bag in his hand and you smiled brightly, tired and sweaty from the gig.

“Thank you, Droz, you’re a lifesaver.” Gently, he handed you your bag, appraising Tom with a curious red eye.

“Your welcome. It was nice having you.” Droz grumbled, spinning the ring in his nose before he gave you a wave, “I’ll tell Frank you got off safe. Be careful on the way home.”

“Thank you!” You shouted as he disappeared into the back.

“So, are all of the band that ripped, or just him?” Tom joked as you shouldered your merchandise.

“Says you! Come on. Let’s get home. I think this was enough excitement for anyone, my heads ready to explode.”

 “Never have I felt so exhausted.” You groaned in your seat as you sat down in the café near your apartment. The city was at least quiet by the time you woke up today. It was around ten, and most people were at work. You waited, half asleep, for the server to dump your coffee on your table with your meal and hummed quietly as your phone vibrated.

‘I hope you didn’t end up with one of the hotties from last night at home!’

You scowled at Tom’s message.

‘Fuck off. I’m tired and you’re not helping.’

He pinged your phone a few more times and you ignored it as your food and coffee was placed before you.

“Thank you.” You smiled and turned in your seat to look around. That was when you saw the one person you didn’t expect to see.

---

Chapter 2 - Duncan

Chapter 3- Zadok

Chapter 4- Senoz

Chapter 5 - Blagden

Chapter 6- Khadba

[dontlikedarkness]

Wonderland

Growing up together meant a lot of things. At first, it meant nothing more than following each other around daycare and annoying the living hell out of each other. Courtney would put on a front for their parents so that she’d be seen as the victim - but she played the part too well, and soon, she was spending half her time at Duncan’s house. Her parents worked a lot, so they jumped at the chance to have somebody pick her up after closing time. They thought extra time with her friend was an added bonus, although her mom didn’t quite approve; she’d learned through the grapevine that Duncan was a troublemaker at school, but was desperate enough to risk it. Besides, she was confident (and rightfully so, for the most part) that Courtney had inherited enough of her own stubbornness and need for structure to resist Duncan’s antics.

Once they’d moved on to kindergarten and eventually grade school, leaving Courtney with the Bivona household for after school care became a matter of convenience. Duncan’s eldest brother was soon old enough to watch them himself, once his mom had gone back to work after maternity leave, and Courtney’s younger sister, Kate, was easy enough to look after. They both appreciated the company of another kid their age - though they’d never admit it.

It became natural for the two to be together. Her dad would drive them to school in the morning, and his mom would pick them up after, so it made sense that they’d hang out in the times in between. Not that they ever meant to, but they were comfortable around each other, as it tends to happen when you’ve known someone since they were in diapers. They’d gravitate towards the other’s familiar face on the first day of school, and be paired up together every day afterwards. Teachers thought they were a good balance, though they never quite understood it. Courtney was useful when Duncan’s attitude and issues with authority needed reigning in, and Duncan always knew how to bring her out of her shell. As odd as it was, it worked.

The roof had been his idea, of course. Who else would see a house and wonder how much of the neighborhood they could see? Purely for devious reasons, he’d said, though she knew better than that. It took months upon months to convince her to go up with him, and it was her roof - had it been any other roof, chances are she wouldn’t have agreed. The only reason she’d said yes in the first place had been pride, because he claimed she was too chicken to go up there, and she’d needed to prove him wrong.

She’d fallen in love with the spot fairly quickly. It was easier to see the stars up there, and she could get out of her house without ever having to leave. It wasn’t breaking the rules - it was skirting them. Which was good enough for her.

Soon enough, it had become an unofficial meeting ground. A safe place, of sorts. He always knew where to find her when she was stressed and overwhelmed, and she knew where to find him when he was pissed about something. They would go up there just to talk, and sometimes they’d stay for hours before Courtney inevitably realized it was past midnight and they had school in the morning.

Even before they’d started dating, it had been there. It started with innocent cuddling in the fifth grade, because Courtney got cold easily and neither of them ever remembered to bring blankets. They’d bring a laptop up and watch movies until the battery died, or until they found themselves talking, too distracted to focus on the screen. Slowly that had progressed into cautious hand-holding, a gentle swipe of his thumb over the back of her hand. She would lay on his chest, eyes on the stars, pointing out every constellation she knew, and speculating on the ones she didn’t. Eventually he knew them by heart, and he’d hold her hand as she gestured at them, naming them off before she could so much as open her mouth. As much as she pretended it annoyed her, she found it oddly endearing. It meant he cared enough to listen, and he didn’t care about anything.

“Princess” had been his nickname for her ever since they could remember. She’d been playing dress-up one day while he idled about, making off-handed comments about how dumb she looked, when she’d decided on the princess outfit. “It makes me feel powerful,” she’d told him, tiny hands on tinier hips. “Whatever you say, princess,” he’d shot back, and it had stuck. When the name began to send a torrent of butterflies through her stomach, she’d known she was in trouble. That was when the hand-holding had transitioned into kisses; soft at first, and completely innocent. He’d kiss her hand and say “your highness” with a mock bow, she’d kiss his cheek and then ruffle his hair in response to the rare but steadily more common compliment. His forehead, when she was proud. Her nose, because she’d complained about her freckles. Neither of them could admit that they wanted more. It was too scary an admission - she thought they were too different; he thought she deserved better. And so the no-longer-quite-so-innocent kissing and cuddling and whatever else continued for a while.

It was sophomore year when she’d decided enough was enough. He helped her push her boundaries in every way - so why not this? His pining had become painfully obvious, and everyone was urging her to do something about it, because while he acted like a lovesick puppy, he respected her too much to make a move without some sort of sign from her. Of course, there had been many signs, but he was incredibly oblivious to them, blinded by thoughts of ‘she would never want me’ and ‘I’d only drag her down’. It was up to her to take matters into her own hands.

So she invited him to the roof, under the pretext of having a movie night. She was up for re-election as student body president, and he needed an escape from his overbearing father; it wasn’t entirely out of left field that either of them would want a night to relax. She spent an hour up there making everything perfect: she had blankets and pillows and all their favorite snacks, and a slew of romantic comedies neither of them would particularly enjoy lined up to watch. He was quick to figure out something was up, fixing her with an expectant stare the moment he’d finished scaling the trellis. “Somebody die, princess?” He’d asked, and she turned beet red. She’d gone overboard, because that was what she did, and she’d set up a date for an entirely different set of people. All they ever really needed was some cheesy thriller and a bucket of popcorn, not some elaborate set up, but she’d let her nerves get the best of her and had immediately gone into overdrive to take her mind off of it.

He could sense her building panic, and he silenced it all with the gentle brush of a hand over her cheek. She squeaked out a meek protest, though both of them knew she didn’t mean it. Her hand snaked up to twist through his hair, pulling him closer, and before he knew it her lips were on his. Gentle, but demanding, leaving him gasping for air. Nothing had ever felt so right, to either of them.

The transition from best friends to more was nowhere near as complicated as she’d expected. They were slightly more public with their affection, he’d sneak into her room for sleepovers and late-night cuddling, and they kissed a hell of a lot more, but beyond that, very little changed. They still bickered to no end and argued over the simplest things, but it was never enough to split them up. It hadn’t before, and it still wouldn’t. They had a bond no one could explain - nor hope to break.

The roof had weathered it all, a constant throughout their relationship, even as it grew and changed. It was a symbol of everything they’d overcome and everything they had yet to endure, and it gave Courtney the strength to believe in them. The strength to speak up.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, princess,” he teased, feathering a kiss on her nose before pressing his forehead to hers, content in their closeness as they lay beneath the stars. She frowned, shifting herself up slightly so that their eyes were level. “You can’t tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you, Duncan. Like she’d worship you if she could. Like you’re some sort of god and she’s a mere mortal, awed to be in your presence.”

His thumb brushed across her chin before settling there, with her head cradled in his hand. It was difficult to find words when she was there, looking so unbelievably beautiful, ebony eyes wide and almost wounded. He could drown in those eyes. Probably would, if he let himself.

“I hadn’t noticed, no.”

A scowl replaced her frown and she rolled her eyes, though she didn’t stop herself from leaning into his touch. His warmth was addicting. “She’s practically drooling after you.” He pulled her closer, letting her shift against his chest until she was comfortable, his shoulder acting as her pillow. “What can I say? I’ve been distracted.”

“You have?”

“It’s hard not to be, when you look at me like I’m the stars in your sky. You don’t idolize me like she does - you see every part of me, the good and the bad, and you still think of me as your equal. Your better half. Tell me, Court, how could she ever hold a candle to you?” His tone was heartbreakingly gentle, and the soft brush of his hand down her spine had her at peace. “Duncan?” She asked, propping herself up again so that she could see him.

“Yes, princess?”

She sighed then, her hair falling across his face as she leaned forward the tiniest amount. “Thank you. For putting up with me. I know I can be… a lot, at times, and I’m not the easiest person to be around. The fact that you stay… It means a lot. More than you could possibly know.”

A sharp intake of breath was the only indicator that he’d heard, and they both remained silent for a few moments before he spoke, his voice slightly unsteady. “God, Courtney… You make it sound like such a chore.”

“What?”

“Just… being around you. I don’t put up with you, because I don’t have to. Every second I get to be near you is a gift. You are so fucking special, princess, and it hurts that you don’t see everything I see. You are gorgeous, and talented, and smart, and brilliant and funny and all sorts of amazing. You are my everything. You keep me steady, you give me a shake back to reality when I’ve gone too far, and you talk me down when I need it. Nobody understands me the way you do, without even trying, and shit… You complete me, Court, you really do. And it’s terrifying and awful and scary but you are beyond worth it. Princess, I…” He choked up suddenly, and gazed up to her, hoping she’d understand everything he couldn’t find the words to say.

“Duncan?”

He broke, then, a single tear sliding down the side of his face. She brushed it away, leaving her hand there, so small a gesture, and yet so incredibly tender and powerful. He held it there, rubbing gently circles into the back of her hand, relishing the intimacy of it all.

“Fuck, Courtney, I love you. So much. And you don’t have to say it back, but… I needed to say it. I think you needed to hear it, too.”

He expected her to tense up, to push him away; anything to signal that she wasn’t ready, that he’d moved too fast, and screwed everything up as per usual. When she didn’t, he thought that might be worse.

“Duncan.”

“Hm?” He responded, a quiet hum of a response, because words were failing him now.

And then her hand slid free, tangling itself in his unkempt hair, her nails pressing softly against his scalp. “Kiss me, damn it. I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

They melted together, then. Two souls perfectly in harmony, against all odds. Beautiful, and perhaps doomed. But none of it mattered. Not in that moment; not ever, because they didn’t care. They would fight for each other, always. A constant in each other’s lives, just as the roof had been in theirs. Forever entwined.

this can also be found on ao3 here

[gabriella-marino]

Gabriella’s Pride Playlist:

Little Games - Miss Benny Romeo - Bryce Xavier Marceline - WILLOW Crush Culture - Conan Gray Gravel to Tempo - Hayley Kioko  Boys/Girls - Torrey Mercer Love Don’t Hate It - Duncan Laurence Lowlife - poppy Honey - Kehlani Born to Be Brave - cast of HSMTMTS 

hello and welcome to discussing songs with, yours truly.

Little Games - Miss Benny  so i decided to so a playlist that kind of goes through her relationship to her sexuality. this song came to mind and is first because it’s about how society has these roles that it forces people into. boys have a certain image they need to fit and so do girls and everyone else needs to conform. so this song represents that beginning stage where she’s no longer a kid running around with hands that are sticky from the fruit she just ate and grass stained knees but someone who is kind of conscious of societal norms and the role she’s supposed to be playing.  Marceline - WILLOW this song is an ode to marceline the vampire queen and i wanted to include it because 1. MOOD but 2. because i think there’s that moment for some people where they’re watching something and get really attached to a certain character and then are like, haha...that’s normal...haha...HA, but it’s because you were gay. so this song is in here because gabriella def had that moment. of course she did. and then later on in life she realized, oh of course i was attracted to women TOO just look at how much i was in love with ____!!! 

Romeo - Bryce Xavier  her next step was being scared of who she was and what that could mean for her future in regards to relationships. not only her romantic ones but her established friends, would they accept her? or her family?? what would they think of her if she brought home a girl when she was still attracted to boys, too, so why couldn’t she just admire women from afar?? this song is about like being in a relationship with someone but wanting to keep it away from the public eye and keeping it between the two of them because the singer is too scared to come out bUT also scared that the other person will leave them for being scared to be themselves. 

Crush Culture - Conan Gray  this song is so funny LMAOO, ive been obsessed with it ever since it came out becaues it’s just like, looking around as a single person and hating all the people getting together into couples around you. this was in gabriella’s time line of being too scared to be in a relaitonship with anYONE because ??? the fuCK is that? and what if the girl she liked wasn’t gAY? or if she told a guy she was with that she was bi didn’t accept that????? then WHAT? so it’s just looking around at all the people getting crushes and talking about their crushes and liking one another and going on DATES when she’s just....not doing that....

Gravel to Tempo - Hayley Kioko  going to this fucking BANGER and a CLASSIC about accepting yourself! this song would represent that moment in her life when she just??? learned that she was who she was and no matter what she or anyone else said/did she was always going to be like this. she was going to be attracted to girls, too!! it was just a thing!!! and she accepted it and learned, you know, if she didn’t like herself then how could she expect anyone else to in the way she wanted them to? 

Boys/Girls - Torrey Mercer  literally just a song about liking boys and liking girls and being bisexual. that point in her life when she was just like, yup, i have accepted this about myself, i use it to describe myself and it works for me. 

Love Don’t Hate It - Duncan Laurence  now that she had that journey to understand herself begins the one of being in a relationship with someone ELSE involved. and it’s sort of the opposite in romeo in that this song is about loving someone in the light of day and not pretending to be someone else within the relationship and out of it. and when looking for a potential partner not reverting to that point in her life. so instead of hiding yourself and hiding your relationship, this one is about being you and loving who you love with no shame attatched.  

Lowlife - poppy this one is about just telling your partner how happy they make you during a shitty point in your life. getting to have someone who makes you happy!! gabriella finally just getting to say that to someone and having someone that accepts her and looking forward to seeing them and getting to tell them they’re a highlight in her life. 

Honey - Kehlani  like the title implIES this song is so SWEET and cute. another ode to the other half of the relationship. this one i feel like has a more romantic tint to it, so like it’s that stage in the relationship where you’re kind of settled in and feeling secure and romantic and all the good mushy gooshy stuff that!! which is something that gabriella previously never thought she could have but always WANTED, because of course she would want that feeling of being loved and accepted by someone!!! YEARNING! and this song is her finally getting there and loving every moment of it. 

Born to be Brave - HSMTMTS ending with a BANGER and such a FUN fucking song dude, oh my GOD. every time this comes on i just gotta DANCE. i wanted to end with another song about self acceptance and loving yourself because break up happen! and bad things happen but you know, at the end of the day, gabriella has herself and her self love and if that gets her through to the next one then that’ll do. 

[tvwriteups]

ESC 2021 GF

Opening was okay. Think that's the largest the stage has looked.

Watching on PeacockTV. No commentary. This time I'm watching through my speakers and not through headphones. Not gonna do a rundown since a lot of the songs are familiar.

I did not watch any of the big 5 or the Dutch rehearsal/jury videos so I'll be watching those whole for the first time. (I probably should have watched them. Oops. Too late now!)

I really have no idea who will win. Kind of makes it exciting!

What's a little weird with my setup is how much "sharper" the music sounds on my speakers.

Let the Grand Final of the ESC begin!

1. Cyprus

2. Albania

3. Israel

4. Belgium

What's funny for me here is that the Belgian song is growing on me on this third listen. I like it more each time. (This might actually make my Eurovision AND Hooverphonic playlist!) With the other songs I was... like I didn't feel the level of "excitement" I felt when I watched them earlier this week.

5. Russia

Oh yeah! This is another one I'm liking more on a second viewing. I like her expressiveness. This is never not interesting. And an enthusiastic response there.

6. Malta

Maltese Lizzo. I know this is very popular with the ESC crowd and I get it but it doesn't personally register with me. I think it's the speed. It's like the same fast speed and mostly same level of "noise." Crowd really loooooves it though. Might just be my own autistic sound processing issues.

7. Portugal

I still am impressed with how well-structured this is. I'll probably forget the song next week but when it was being performed I never lost interest.

8. Serbia

They seem so wholesome in their postcard. Hmm, singing doesn't sound as good on my speakers. This is like the first 3 songs for me.

And now a break.

Kind of sucks performing early because it hurts you with the vote but at least you get to sit back easy and watch the rest of the show.

I still feel very conflicted about how to feel about Junior ESC. Lots of pressure to put on children.

Jamala, Emmelie de Forest, Duncan Laurence on where they keep their awards... nope, Nikkie, I'm not gonna check out the live blog. I like the ESC but even I have to draw a line somewhere.

9. United Kingdom

First time watching. I don't understand these British songwriters who perform their own songs and yet... like, it doesn't sound ideally suited to their own voices. It was okay but it's another one I'll forget in a week.

10. Greece

Well, I didn't get to watch this properly the first time so here goes: I don't like the huge reliance on effects but it's BEHIND her so it's completely acceptable to me. I think this would've worked better for me if the dancing was "more [active?]" since it's a fast song about dancing.

The hosts briefly have to tell us something for some reason.

Hmm, apparently a lot of my sound issue is that the rear speakers are coming through louder.

11. Switzerland

This is playing much better for me today than it did the other day. The overall performance is better. I don't like the epilepsy-inducing light though. That's my only complaint. Well done!

12. Iceland

Well, literally the same exact performance we watched the other day but it was fun so... and my viewing experience is slightly different so... Hmm.. what I'm really feeling right now is a song placement thing. We went from intense to chill and that energy change is a bit much for me.

13. Spain

This song does not have a strong hook. I ... can't remember the song and it only just finished.

14. Moldova

I honestly don't think this song would've made it through the first SF. I just don't care for it. I think I spent most of the performance looking at the dancers when that was an option.

15. Germany

This feels like a cross between a Moldovan and a San Marino entry. I dunno, I enjoyed it. I wouldn't watch it again though.

I do also understand that part of watching this as an American is that I don't ever have to feel embarrassment that I'm being represented through any of these performances.

16. Finland

Now that I know that this is like this I'm totally not interested. I'd probably feel very differently if I was in the same space as these guys because it's a SHOW!

And another break. Oh, the broadcaster boxes. I always assume that they're going to harass Graham Norton but they're actually visiting the Danes right now. And the Russians.

Hosts talking about orchestras now.

17. Bulgaria

I remember this postcard from the other day because of the menagerie this girl has. This song is also growing on me. I was confused about the lyrics the other day but now am experiencing them as playful. Feeling the "production" of this one.

18. Lithuania

It's hard for me because I really liked "On Fire." I'm really enjoying this the second time and a really great, entertaining performance. And maybe it's in a better place during the night.

Hosts talking about the app. They're really hammering this whole "clap along" thing (which I haven't found on the app because I'm probably too old to care).

19. Ukraine

This song is a trip. Bangy-est banger of the night. You just never know.

20. France

You know, this comes off as something the juries would love to award. Damn, girl! You know, I wasn't impressed when they showed the short clip at the end of the SF. You really have to watch the whole thing.

21. Azerbaijan

Seems more appropriate to sing about Mata Hari than Cleopatra in the Netherlands when you think about it. It could be because I've already seen this before but I'm still processing France. There's also something about this staging that makes them look small on the stage to me.

22. Norway

I don't know why I find him adorable but I do. This song feels like a hug. (Or it's the "feathers." LOL)

Mini-break about what's upcoming.

23. The Netherlands

I was into it until the last 30 when it got really repetitive but that's still an overall like.

24. Italy

I really can't predict anything. I dig this but we've sort of filled a quota for intensity for the night.

25. Sweden

I'm just kind of like....of course Sweden has the Rijksmuseum postcard. It's like the most recognizable place in all of these postcards. And be near the end of the show. I'll be honest: I'm just predisposed to be against Sweden. Ugh, epilepsy light. I can't even look at the screen. Also, I liked Russia's "A Million Voices" in 2015. I'm guessing this song did not look like this at Melodifestivalen because it's really looking terrible on my tv. This is the worst visual presentation of the night.

26. San Marino

Honestly wondering how well San Marino is gonna finish this year. This felt more awesome the first time. Well, also Flo Rida delightfully surprised me the first time.

And how our hosts telling us about the importance of voting. I have no idea how these are going to pan out. I just know that if I was voting I think I'd throw my votes at Ukraine and France...while feeling bad that I'm not throwing some at Bulgaria, Iceland, Lithuania or Switzerland. (I also liked Russia but I wouldn't vote for them.) I mean, I liked Italy but... I don't know. I think I ran out of energy by then.

Really think it's that Ukraine and France just zapped my energy for energetic songs. The only one I felt after those was the hug of Norway. Or maybe Norway lulled me. LOL.

Would be interested in the televotes for some of these countries.

Recap. Ooof. France doesn't work in short recap clip.

"Music Binds Us"....because we've heard of Afrojack here. I swear every other major city has one of those bridges. I'd otherwise dig this but we've had so much intense music tonight.

I'm guessing we're listening to "Titanium" because Afrojack wrote and produced it.

I'm sitting here wondering if ANYONE is going to vote for the UK at all. Or, really, how many of the Big 5 are going to be in the Bottom 5.

Another recap.

Another Nikkie ESC Tutorial segment. This is actually kind of annoying.

And now a behind-the-scenes montage while the voting numbers are displayed at the bottom.

Catching up with past winners now.

ESC honoring itself again. Enjoying how much they're not overemphasizing the whole "in front of a live audience" stuff like they were doing the other nights.

Another recap.

Oddly, I think Moldova annoys me the most. It feels like the emptiest song in the final.

How quickly are they going to burn through the votes. It's already feeling like this show is long.

65th anniversary stuff. Rock the Roof. Måns again. I don't like this song. I think 2015 was a great overall year (even if I was able to predict the top 10 (except for Latvia) but I still listen to a lot of songs from that year... just not "Heroes." I resent that I have to hear it every year now.

Teach-In....because Dutch and because we need a song with 'Ding" and "Dong" in it.

SANDRA KIM!!!!!!!! Forever the youngest winner of this contest.

Lenny Kuhr.

Helena Paparizou. LOL, totally sticking to the choreo.

Lordi. Probably had to choose their roof first to get the permission to shoot the pyro off it.

So are they saving Duncan Laurence for when they calculate the votes? It feels like the voting window has been open forever now. I keep looking for a countdown clock.

This sounds like a way of saying Duncan Laurence has tested positive for COVID without saying that he tested positive for COVID.

Are they emphasizing that the Netherlands is below sea level?

New song... I'll take anything as long as it's not "Nana Banana."

The voting still isn't closed!

Oh, they have a special countdown dance is why. How very Paparizou of them.

Oh, that weird part where they banter with the delegations.

Malta. Just Malta?

Martin Österdahl. Because Swedes. Jury time. I forgot that revealing votes this way eliminates the performances during the vote calculation. They calculate the televote during the jury stuff.

Jury Votes

Israel, the least popular child in the room right now gives their 12 points to Switzerland.

Poland goes to San Marino.

San Marino goes to France.

Albania to Switzerland.

Malta to Albania.

These are going all over the place. But then it's juries.

Estonia's 12 to Switzerland.

Switzerland and France popular with juries so far.

North Macedonia to Serbia.

Recap. Switzerland, France and Italy in the Top 3.

Els and Nikki or however you spell their names. Azerbaijan throws their points at Russia of course.

Norway to....Malta.

Spain to France.

Austria to Iceland.

Ooof, UK, Spain and Norway totally blanked right now.

The UK....with Amanda Holden...and 12 points for France.

Italy gives its 12 points to Lithuania. No points for Switzerland from them!

Now it's just the UK blank.

Slovenia to Italy.

Juries don't like Ukraine. :-(

Greece...making us try not to boo by having a child tell us that the points are going to Cyprus.

Latvia with Aminata of course. 12 points go to Switzerland.

Ireland to France.

Moldova epic saxing us. Epic saxing Bulgaria too.

Serbia to France.

Bulgaria to Moldova. Ugh.

Cyprus ...should've used a child. Even the crowd is all "Greece, duh."

Belgium to Switzerland. It's almost like they have something against France, LOL.

Banter with Switzerland. Banter with France. No cringe. Practically no cringe in these interviews. They're adorable.

On a side note, my HVAC is dying on a 90 degree day.

Germany to France.

UK still sitting on a jury egg.

Australia to Malta.

Finland to Switzerland.

Portugal to Bulgaria.

Ukraine to Italy. Love the 0 points to Russia there.

Iceland. LOL. LOL. LOL. Of course a "Jaja Ding Dong" reference. Switzerland for them.

Romania to Malta.

Without televotes this stuff is almost meaningless. I can't imagine France getting the televotes.

Croatia to Italy.

Czech Republic to...like who would they.. oh Portugal. Of course. LOL.

Georgia to Italy.

Lithuania to Ukraine.

Denmark to Switzerland.

Top 5: Switzerland, France, Malta, Italy and Iceland.

"A Million Voices" Polina telling us Russia is giving their points to Moldova. Lots of side-eye from me.

France can't give points to themself so.... Greece. I... I... don't know.

Sweden with Carola. OMG Carola....why so much talking? Did she take something? Or drink something? She's on something. Gives their points to Malta.

Switzerland gives point to France. Most anticlimatic points reveal.

The Netherlands gives its points to France.

UK with ZERO points from juries.

Switzerland, France, Malta, Italy, Iceland.

We don't see the jury performances so...like... I dunno.

Gonna waste time in the Green Room again before the televote reveal. Talking with Switzerland... meaning that Gjon gets to replace John Lundvik as the face of losing if they don't get enough votes.

TELEVOTE TIME!

I hope this goes fast. And they're revealing these in the order of jury votes, least to most. So maybe a different face of losing.

UK with 0 points. OUCH! And they didn't genocide anyone this year! James Newman being a sport.

Germany with 0 points.

Spain with 0 points.

Netherlands with 0 points.

LMAO. I don't think I've ever seen this.

Norway with 60 points.

Serbia with 82 points.

Albania with 35 points.

Azerbaijan with 33 points.

San Marino with 13 points...even with Flo Rida!!!

Sweden with 63 points?

Cyprus with 44 points.

Moldova with 62 points.

Lithuania with 165 points!!!

Belgium with 3 points. Hooverphonic with only 3 points. Better than zero. But totally a jury thing their SF result was.

20 points to Israel.

Finland with 218. Shocker that. For me. Not the public, of course. Now in first.

Greece with 79 points.

Ukraine with 267. Into the lead.

Russia with 100 points.

Portugal with 27.

Bulgaria with 30 points.

Iceland with 180 points...and in 1st.

Italy with 318 points.

Malta with 47 points.

France with 251 points. Into 2nd.

Switzerland with 160 points.

Winner is Italy. So Switzerland is the new face of losing.

Televote alone it's Italy, Ukraine, France, Finland, Iceland, Lithuania, Switzerland, and Russia with 100 or more points. Serbia and Greece rounding out the top 10 in televote.

Surprised and delighted that the public gave all those votes to France. I was not expecting that at all.

In the breakdowns I really would like to see if their are any public correlations between folks who votes Italy/Finland or France/Switzerland.

[pikapeppa]

Sten/f!Mahariel: Fall Into The Tide, Chapter 4

Chapter 4 of Sten and Yara Mahariel’s nautical adventures is up on AO3! The chapter is called ‘Conversations’, and it consists of a bunch of... well, conversations.

~6800 words; read on AO3 here. 

********************

The journey to Par Vollen unfolded in a series of surprisingly fair-weather days. Yara and Sten soon slipped into a new routine of training twice per day: once with weapons in the morning before breakfast, and another session of hand-to-hand combat before the evening meal. 

On the first day that they started hand-to-hand combat, however, Yara was met with a surprise: Sten didn’t seem entirely confident on what he was doing. Their sessions seemed to involve a lot of trial-and-error, and Yara often found herself standing idly while Sten inspected her body, almost as though he was trying to assess her value as a weapon. When he finally instructed her to hit him, he only seemed annoyed when he easily deflected her strikes. 

On the third day of this sort of haphazard training, Yara eventually held up a hand to stop him. “Sten, is something wrong?” she asked.  

“I do not want an audience,” he said.

Yara blinked in surprise. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. 

She glanced at the deck, where a handful of sailors were casually watching their sparring. It wasn’t unusual for a few crew members to watch while she and Sten were training, and Sten had never expressed a problem with it before. 

“You don’t want them watching us at all anymore?” she said. That was going to be a bit difficult to achieve, since the ship was not very big. She and Sten had been doing all their training on the forecastle deck where they were mostly out of the way, and seeing as the forecastle was raised, it would be quite difficult for the crew to not watch them at all.

“The weapons training, yes,” Sten said. “But this? No.”

She raised her eyebrows, feeling increasingly nonplussed. Why did it matter if the crew were watching weapons training or hand-to-hand? But Sten’s tone was firm, and Yara knew only too well how futile it was to argue with him when he was this adamant.

“All right,” she said. “I can ask them not to watch for now.” 

He nodded brusquely, and Yara drifted down to cajole the crew into not watching during their hand-to-hand sessions. When she and Sten were alone and unobserved on the forecastle deck again, she tilted her head.

“Why don’t you want them watching our hand-to-hand training?” she asked. She offered him a little smile. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of letting them see you get bested by a woman.”

Sten gave her a chiding look, then turned away. “I have little experience fighting such a small opponent.”

Yara tsked and planted her hands on her hips. “All right, I get it, I’m small and frail and you’re big and huge. Why does that–”

He cut her off. “I don’t know how to train you without the advantage of weapons,” he said. “I do not know how to make you stronger in this. This is a weakness. Such weakness should not be… witnessed.” He shot a suspicious look at the crew, who had returned to their posts by now.

Yara tilted her head. “But we knew from the start that I’m weaker than you. That’s the whole point.”

Sten shook his head. “You misunderstand. The weakness is not yours. It is mine.”

She stared at him in rising confusion. “Sten, I… I don’t know what you mean. How is my lack of ability your weakness?”

“To know something is to possess the power to master it,” he explained. “In the lack of knowing lies weakness.”

Yara raised her eyebrows, then frowned as the meaning of what he’d said sank in. “So… hang on. So you think it’s a weakness anytime that you don’t know how to do something?”

“I am a sten of the beresaad,” he said firmly. “I am a soldier and a fighter. It is my duty to know how to fight, and how to train my companions to do the same. But I don’t know how to train you to best me.” He bowed his head to her. “I lack mastery in this, kadan. I am sorry.”

She blinked at him in utter bemusement. “But… but Sten, we just got started. You can’t expect to be a master at this right away.”

“It should not be this difficult,” he insisted. “The principles should be the same. We are both intelligent beings of muscle and bone. But your fists are so small and ineffectual. I do not know how to get around this problem.” 

He looked so put out by her small and ineffectual fists that Yara couldn’t help it: she laughed. 

He scowled at her, and she raised her hands in surrender. “Listen, I think I can help. I used to scrap a little bit with the boys in my clan. They did a lot of horsing around or tripping each other up since it was all in fun and no one really wanted to hurt each other.” She shrugged. “Maybe we could use the same ideas here.”

Sten stared at her. “...horsing around?”

“Yes,” she said. “You know, like… like plowing into someone’s belly and throwing them off balance so they’d fall down. Or kicking someone in the back of the knees so they’d land on their knees and be caught off-guard.”

His face cleared suddenly. “You find a way to bring me down, and if I fall, you can strike me with greater force while I am caught off-guard.”

“Yes, exactly!” Yara said brightly. 

Sten nodded decisively. “Yes. This is a good strategy. A good way to use your smaller size as a benefit and not a hindrance.”

Yara chuckled and folded her arms. “Good to know I’m not a hindrance despite my tiny size.”

For a brief moment, a hint of a smile lit the corners of his lips. “I did not say ‘tiny’, kadan. You are not an imekari.”

“I’m certainly not,” she replied.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how provocative they sounded. Sten’s eyebrows rose, and when his eyes darted over her body, her heart jolted nervously in her chest.

His eyes returned to her face. “Are you flirting again?” he asked.

She nervously licked her lips, then boldly lifted her chin. “Maybe I am.”

He stared at her without replying, and she stared back at him in all his shirtless glory. For a tense moment, neither of them spoke, and when Yara felt like her heart might beat its way straight through her throat, he finally gestured for her to approach.

“Come,” he said. “Show me a way that the men in your clan would toss each other to the ground.”

She exhaled slowly – whether with disappointment or relief, she couldn’t quite decide – then did her best to describe how her clanmates would imbalance each other to throw each other off their feet. She and Sten worked together to balance his much-greater weight against her agility, and by the time their session was finished, Yara had managed to get Sten to his knees, and his face looked more relaxed than it had all day. 

“Good,” he said. “You are improving already. This is good.”

She smiled at him and wiped her forehead. “We make a good team.”

“We have been a good team for some time,” Sten replied. 

She smiled more broadly. She knew his compliment was entirely professional, but it didn’t stop her ears from heating up or the butterflies from fluttering in her belly.

She ducked her head and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes. All right. I’ll, um, this will be good to get back into tomorrow.” 

Sten nodded and rose to his full towering height, and her heart kicked into her throat once more. His chest was rising and falling with exertion and his muscles were lined with sweat, and Mythal save her, he smelled so damned good… 

Her pulse suddenly throbbed between her legs. She gulped in a breath of his sharp and salty scent, then stepped back and waved haphazardly at him before scurrying away to bathe. 

In the days that followed, their hand-to-hand sessions became more and more focused and satisfying, though Yara was still having difficulty getting Sten into a vulnerable enough position to strike him hard. When they weren’t training, they often sat together while doing their own quiet activities. Sten spent a lot of time reading, and Yara wondered if he was hoping to finish The Rose of Orlais before they arrived in Par Vollen. For her part, Yara spent quite a bit of time just sitting with him and thinking while playing fetch with Fen’ain. She could be reading too, if she wanted to; Brother Genitivi had given her a small book containing essays and analyses of his own about the Grey Wardens, and Yara did want to read the book at some point. But for some reason, she was reluctant to pull the book out of her satchel right now. 

Instead, she sat with Sten and let her mind wander as she watched the clouds scudding across the sky. She thought about her former companions and wondered what they were up to: was Alistair with the Orlesian Wardens now? Had Shale and Wynne already set off on their trip to Tevinter? What sort of mischief might Zevran be getting up to? Had Oghren gone to find Felsi yet, and where in Mythal’s name had Morrigan gone? 

She thought about her clan, too. She still felt wistful for the simplicity and certainty of her life as a Dalish hunter, as well as longing for Ashalle and Fenarel and Marethari and for poor Tamlen too. But cutting through her longing was an ugly but persistent thread of bitterness. She still couldn’t decide whether she was more angry at Marethari for handing her over to Duncan, or at the entire clan for packing up and leaving instead trying harder to find Tamlen. If only they’d managed to find him, maybe he could have joined the Grey Wardens as well. If only they’d taken a little more time to look for him, maybe he wouldn’t have risen up as a blighted ruin of a man choking out his love for her through twisted and blackened lips while attacking her at the same time–

“Kadan?”

She jolted and looked up at Sten. “Yes?”

“Your hands,” he said. 

She looked down at her hands, and her gut twisted with dismay; her left wrist was reddened. She’d been scratching unconsciously at the skin on wrist – a bad habit that Ashalle had always gently scolded her about, especially when she was a child and prone to scratching until the skin was raw. Ashalle had stitched her some soft ram-leather cuffs to stop her from scratching herself raw, and eventually the habit had gone away, for the most part at least. 

She forced herself to relax her fingers and looked up at Sten. “Can you read to me from your book?” she asked.

He frowned, and for a moment Yara thought he was going to refuse. But his response took her by surprise. “I am several chapters ahead of where I was the last time I read to you,” he said. “You will not understand what’s happening.”

“So tell me what I missed, then,” she said.

“Why should I do that?” he asked.

She smiled pleadingly. “Because it’s fun?”

Sten shot her a very skeptical look, and she laughed. “All right, that was a terrible way to convince you, I’ll admit. Pretend I’m the Arishok and you’re giving me a report on your book so far.”

“The Arishok would not want a report on this drivel,” Sten said flatly.

She gave him a sly look. “So why are you still reading it, then?”

Sten frowned and returned his gaze to his book, and Yara immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Sten,” she said. “I shouldn’t tease. Honestly, I think it’s great that you’re reading that book.”

He didn’t look at her, and he didn’t reply. As the silence stretched tensely between them, Yara began to wonder sadly if she should leave him alone. 

Just as she was about to rise from the bench, he spoke. “You have missed very little. The chevalier went to a tourney. He did not win, but instead of accepting the responsibility for his own failure, he became petulant and drunk.” He raised an eyebrow. “This appears to be a common theme among bas. There was also a suggestive drunken encounter with the noblewoman on a balcony.” He shot Yara a flat look. “The elf assassin would have called it ‘titillating’.”

Yara smiled, relieved that he was speaking to her again. “All right. That’s a great summary.”

He nodded, then began reading out loud, and Yara smiled to herself as she relaxed into his soothing baritone.

The days continued to blend together in a pleasant and unhurried flow. It soon became routine for Sten to read to Yara a little bit each day, and these quickly became the most calming parts of her day. She would sometimes make comments during Sten’s reading-out-loud sessions, prompting him to make dry or sarcastic replies, and eventually the focus of their sessions morphed from reading out loud to talking. 

One day, as Sten was opening The Rose of Orlais, Yara tilted her head. “I’ve still been thinking, you know,” she said. “About that parable you told me. The one with the ashkaari and the laundress.”

He nodded. “Have you determined the meaning yet?” 

“No, not yet,” she said. “But I was wondering. The way you told it was… perfect. Like you’d done it before. So I was wondering if you – if qunari, I mean – do you memorize all your fables so you can just recite them anytime?”

Sten nodded. “It is a part of mastering the Qun. To understand the Qun, you must first know the words. We recite them over and over as imekari until they become as familiar as our own faces in the mirror.”

Yara raised her eyebrows. That sounded like a harsh way to teach children, but it had clearly worked in Sten’s case. “Do you ever take a little creative licence when you’re retelling the parables?” she asked.

He frowned curiously. “‘Creative licence’? What is this?”

“It means changing the original story a bit, or adding interesting details to make it more, er, interesting.” She grimaced at her own implication that Sten’s parables were boring. “Or, um… well, I guess it would defeat the point of memorizing it if you were changing the story.”

Sten put his book aside. “These are not stories, kadan. They are lessons passed down by the Great Ashkaari Koslun. It is not my place to alter the wisdom that has governed my people for ages.”

Yara nodded, but she couldn’t help but feel a little skeptical about whether the stories – sorry, lessons – really were exactly the same as they were when the Askhaari Koslun had first come up with them. All stories or lessons changed with time and telling, after all. 

Then Sten spoke again. “I sometimes imagine the ashkaari wearing armour made of dawnstone instead of iron or steel.” 

Yara looked at him in surprise. “Dawnstone? But… but dawnstone is pink.”

Sten nodded. “An ashkaari in pink armour. It is… frivolous.”

Yara stared at him, then slowly smiled. “You think it’s funny to imagine the ashkaari in pink armour.” 

Sten smirked, and Yara had to resist the sudden urge to hug him. Before she could say anything else, he spoke again. “Your people. Your Dalish clan. Do you have fables?”

“Yes,” she said. “We have nine gods, and we have stories about all of them. Do you want to hear one?”

Sten nodded, and Yara smiled. “All right. You’ll have to bear with me, though, I’m not much a storyteller.” She settled herself facing him on the bench. “I’ll tell you about Mythal and Elgar’nan. Once upon a time, there was only the sun and the land, and there were no gods. Then the sun and the land had a child–”

“The sun and land had a child?” Sten said. “That is impossible.”

Yara gave him a patient look. “Sten, do I interrupt you when you’re telling me parables?”

He sat back. “You are right. Go on.”

She smiled before going on. “The sun and land had a child, and he was Elgar’nan. The land, who was the mother, loved Elgar’nan and made all kind of animals and plants for him to enjoy. But the sun, who was the father, got jealous and burned all the animals and plants out of jealousy.”

Sten opened his mouth to comment, and Yara raised her eyebrows. He closed his mouth and waved for her to continue.

She continued the tale. “Elgar’nan flew into a rage and leapt into the sky to fight the sun. The sun was strong, but Elgar’nan was so angry that he was stronger, so he cast the sun down to the earth into a… a crevasse, I guess, and he was imprisoned there. But because the sun was gone, everything on the land started to die.”

“But everything was already dead from being burned by the sun,” Sten pointed out.

“Oh. You’re right,” Yara said blankly. “I never thought of that.” She paused and wrinkled her nose, then waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, the sun was shoved deep into the earth, and the earth was so sad that she began crying. That’s how all the oceans and seas came to be. The land begged Elgar’nan to forgive his father, but he wouldn’t. That’s when Mythal came out of the sea, born from the land’s tears, and she convinced Elgar’nan to change his mind. So he pulled his father out of the crevasse inside of the earth, and they came to an agreement: the sun could shine, but he would do it gently so he wouldn’t kill everything on the earth. And, um… well, I guess that’s kind of it.” She shrugged. “The land was happy that her son and husband weren’t fighting, and Elgar’nan and Mythal lived on the land with all the animals and creatures under the sun. They gave birth to the other gods – or most of them, at least, but that's moving into other stories.”

Sten didn’t speak for a moment. When Yara raised her eyebrows at him, he frowned. “You are finished?”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s the end of the story.”

His frown deepened. “But there was no lesson. There was no point.”

She smiled. “No, it – it wasn’t really a lesson sort of story. It’s just a story of how the world was made.”

“But you established from the start that the world already existed,” he argued. “The land and the sun already existed.”

“Yes, but the animals and creatures didn’t,” Yara said. “Nothing was alive on the land.”

“But why was the land alive?” he asked. “Why was the sun alive?” 

He looked so affronted, and Yara had to force herself not to laugh. “It’s a metaphor, Sten. Or – not a metaphor, but… look, it’s just a story. It’s just for fun.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Your culture is premised on stories that make no sense and have no meaning?”

She burst out a laugh. “Sten! That’s so rude! And besides, those stories aren’t what our entire culture is based on. It’s – it’s just a part of it. It’s our heritage, but it’s not how we live.”

He stared at her. “The stories you tell your children are not lessons, and you do not live by them? This is ludicrous.”

“There are different stories for different reasons,” she explained. “The ones that we tell around the fire at night are not the same as the ones that govern how we live our lives. We live by things like the Vir Tanadhal, which is the hunter’s code. But stories like the one I told you are just for fun. They’re… they’re like children’s stories.”

“But the stories you tell your imekari and the code by which they live should be one and the same,” Sten said.

She gazed fondly at him. “There are different ways of doing things. I was raised by the Dalish with our no-lesson children’s stories and I’m not so bad, right?”

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and Yara shrugged. “I don’t really know what else to tell you. All I can say is that sometimes a story is just for fun. It’s like when we’d sit around with Zevran and Alistair and the others and chat.” She pulled a little face. “Or, well, I guess you didn’t really join us when we did that…” 

“I did this with my brothers in the beresaad,” Sten said. “We… chatted.”

“All right, then it’s like that,” she said. “The stories are just something interesting to talk about. A way to entertain. Like that book,” she added with a nod to The Rose of Orlais, which still sat unopened in his lap. “There’s no lesson in there. It’s just for fun.”

He frowned pensively, and Yara idly swung her bare feet as she waited for him to speak. When he did, he surprised her yet again. “I would like to hear another story.”

She raised her eyebrows. “All right, if you like. Um… I can tell you about Andruil. She’s the goddess of hunting–”

“No, not a story of your gods,” he said. “A story about you.”

Her eyes widened. “About me?”

“Yes,” he said. “Tell me a story of yourself. For… fun.”

Yara stared wordlessly at him, thrown off by his request. She didn’t particularly like talking about herself, preferring instead to deflect people’s questions back to themselves so she could listen instead of talk. But now that Sten had asked, she was realizing that he didn’t know very much about her life before they’d met, despite the year they’d spent travelling together. 

She awkwardly ran her fingers through her hair. “I… um, I guess I can think of something.” She gave him a challenging look. “But only if you tell me a story about yourself after.”

He frowned slightly, then nodded. “This is a fair exchange. I agree.”

She smiled. “All right. Well, um… I guess I can tell you about a time that Fenarel and I almost burned down the Keeper’s aravel. It was a very dry summer, and this was about fifteen years ago…” 

Yara continued her tale, and when she was finished, Sten told her a tale of his own about one of his brothers cooking the wrong sort of mushroom and making their entire squad hallucinate. And for the rest of that afternoon, they exchanged small stories of their lives, and Sten didn’t even open The Rose of Orlais. 

The journey continued, and so did their new routine of talking about their lives and their cultures and even their respective languages instead of reading. Yara sometimes felt guilty about interrupting Sten’s reading, but she was enjoying their conversations too much to stop. 

On one particular occasion, about ten days into the trip, Yara was sitting beside him and idly twisting the front of her hair into a simple braided crown when she noticed that he was staring at her rather blatantly.

Her belly did a nervous little jolt, and she paused in her braiding. “Sten, is everything okay?”

“You are a redhead,” he said. 

Yara smiled uncertainly. She had absolutely no idea where he was going with this. “Yes,” she said.

“But your hair is not red,” Sten said. “I have been thinking about this term, ‘redhead’. It is inaccurate. Your hair is orange. Perhaps with a bit of gold when the sun is bright. They should call you an ‘orange-head.’” 

Her heart did a little flip at his flattering description of her hair colour. She was sure he didn’t mean to compliment her, but it felt good anyway. 

She smiled shyly and went back to braiding her hair. “That doesn’t really have the same ring to it. ‘Orange-head’ doesn’t sound quite as sexy as ‘redhead’.”

“Sexy?” Sten said.

She pressed her lips together. The word had slipped out without her thinking about it. She ignored her burning cheeks and shrugged as casually as she could. “You know, um… attractive. In a… sexual way.”

His frown deepened. “Sex has nothing to do with the colour of hair.”

For a split second, Yara gaped at him, flustered by hearing him saying anything about sex with such certainty. Did he carry that same certainty when he was actually in the throes?

Stop it, Yara, she scolded herself. Already a thrill of heat was starting to thrum through her blood. Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze and continued to braid her hair. “I know it doesn’t. But, um. There are just, um, common beliefs about people who have red hair.”

“What kind of beliefs?” he asked.

“They say we’re… hot-headed and temperamental,” she said reluctantly. “Quick to anger or to get passionate about things. And that we, um…” She swallowed hard. “That we’re, um, passionate sex partners.”

“I understand,” Sten said.

She darted a cautious look at him. “You understand what?”

“The metaphor,” he said. “Red hair is like fire. That is the metaphor.”

“Oh,” Yara said dumbly. “Yes, that’s – yes, exactly.”

Sten grunted, apparently pleased to have sorted out the linguistic mystery. Then he gave her an appraising look. “You are not like this. You are not fierce-tempered or quick to passion.”

Her heart sank a bit at this. Sten didn’t think she was fierce or passionate? Did that mean he thought she wouldn’t be a good lover, either? 

Oh, what in Sylaise’s name was she even thinking? It’s not like Sten was thinking about her sexually at all. She let out a self-deprecating little laugh to hide her dismay. “I know. I’m kind of a disappointment that way.”

He frowned. “That is not what I said. What I mean is that you are not like a flame. You are more like an ember.” 

She frowned curiously as Sten went on. “An ember is steady. It retains the warmth of the hearth rather than dying out in a flash of light and heat. It is no less hot than the flame itself. And when one attempts to blow the ember out, it only flares brighter.” He gave her a frank look. “That is not disappointing, kadan. The ember is superior to the flame in its own way, and just as useful.”

She gaped at him. What he’d just said was so… so nice. So thoughtful and… well, rather  romantic, really. 

Creators save her from herself, she wanted to straddle his lap. 

She suppressed the lewd thought and smiled at him despite her burning cheeks. “Sten, are you flirting with me?”

His eyebrows leapt up. “Flirt–? No. It’s–” He scowled. “Vashedan. Let us speak of something else.”

She laughed and patted his knee. “I’m just teasing! It was a really nice thing to say. Thank you.”

His scowl deepened. “I did not mean to flirt. I was speaking the truth.”

“That’s what makes it so nice. Thank you,” she said softly.

“You are welcome,” he grumbled. He cleared his throat, then opened his book for the first time that day, and Yara watched with a thrill of nerves and hope as he read his book with a more focused sort of attention than usual. Maybe Sten hadn’t meant to flirt, but he had complimented her, and not on something relating to her combat form or her leadership skills. And he had said that other nice thing about her hair being golden in the sunlight…

Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe she was just reading too much into it because she was so attracted to him. 

Or maybe it meant that her feelings weren’t completely one-sided after all. 

****************

Later that night in their cabin, Yara combed her hair and watched Sten surreptitiously as he washed his face in the basin in the corner and brushed his teeth. The muscles in his broad shoulders were rippling as he bent over the basin, and her eyes traced along the smoky grey expanse of his back to admire the scar on his left flank, as well as another smaller scar on his right shoulder. When he turned around, she hastily looked away from him and continued combing her hair. 

Sten slid into the bedroll on the floor and folded his arms behind his head, and a spark of lust danced down her spine. The definition in his abs was easier to admire with his arms raised, and his biceps were as thick around as her thigh, and… 

And he looked content. His expression was neutral, but his forehead wasn’t creased or lined with a frown, and his gaze on her face was relaxed instead of its usual sharp focus. 

Oh Creators, he was looking right at her while she was ogling him. She dropped his gaze and combed her hair more quickly. “You look, um, happy,” she blurted. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a question?”

She smiled faintly at him. Of course he had to make her innocuous remark sound like she’d said something stupid. Which, in all fairness, she had. At least he wasn’t pointing out that she was staring at him yet again. 

“Not a question. Just a comment,” she said. “You look relaxed. Content. It’s… I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’re usually all focused and on duty.”

“I am about to go to sleep,” he said dryly.

She smiled more broadly. “You even look focused when you’re asleep. Like you have to do a really good job of getting a good night’s rest.” 

He scoffed. Yara chuckled, and they fell quiet for a moment. Then Yara tilted her head. “I do have a question for you, though. If you don’t mind my asking while you’re trying to sleep.”

He turned his head to look at her more fully. “Ask, kadan.” 

She nibbled the inside of her cheek for a moment. She’d been thinking about this ever since their first discussion about the difference between a purpose and a mission. She rather envied Sten’s certainty about his place in the world, and his conviction in the Qun’s worldviews was undeniable. Even so, Yara had the sense that Sten wasn’t a typical example of a qunari citizen. He said things and did things and enjoyed things that weren’t in keeping with the Qun as he described it, and whenever Yara pointed out these inconsistencies, he found some way to change the topic, whether it was by questioning her culture or insisting that she train with him, or simply by saying he needed silence in order to read. 

“Are you going to ask?” he said.

“Oh,” she said blankly. “Right. I was just thinking… are you happy being qunari? Being a member of the Qun, I mean?”

Sten frowned, then slowly sat up in his bedroll. “‘Happy.’ You often use this word as though it has meaning. As though it is clearly defined and understood the same way by everyone. What does this word mean to you?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected him to throw the question back at her so quickly. “It means… not being miserable, I suppose.”

“Misery is a choice,” Sten said. “You can choose not to be miserable.”

A little laugh escaped her lips – more of surprise than true mirth. “No you can’t,” she said. “Sometimes terrible things happen and they make you sad. That’s just… it’s normal to be miserable sometimes, Sten.”

“It is normal for terrible things to happen,” he said. “It is a choice to remain stuck in a state of misery instead of moving forward.”

She gazed at him with growing disbelief. “So you think people should just… stop being sad and move on?”

He studied her for a moment, then shook his head and lay back down. “I am not a tamassran. It is not my place to teach. Qunari do not transgress their roles.”

“Well, I’m not qunari,” she said. “And no one here is going to accuse you of stepping out of line.”

He shot her a suspicious look, and she gestured at him. “Come on, tell me. I like hearing what you have to say.”

He gave her one of those penetrating looks, and Yara waited with bated breath for him to respond. Then he sighed and sat up once more. “We have a canto in the Qun: ‘There is no chaos in the world, only complexity. Knowledge of the complex is wisdom, and from wisdom of the world comes wisdom of the self. Mastery of the self is mastery of the world. Loss of the self is the source of suffering. Suffering is a choice, and we can refuse it. It is in our own power to create the world, or destroy it.’”

Yara grimaced. “You’ll have to say that one again for me.”

Sten recited the saying a second time. Yara frowned pensively, and for a long minute, they just stared at each other in silence while she thought. 

“So… when we found you in that cage in Lothering,” she said slowly. “Was that… how was that in line with what you just said? If suffering is a choice?”

He leaned away from her slightly. “You are suggesting that I was choosing to suffer.”

“Weren’t you?” she asked.

He stared at her without speaking, and Yara winced. “I’m not trying to pick on you or make you angry. I just—”

 “I am not angry,” he interrupted. “I am thinking.”

Yara nodded, and they sat silently for a while longer. Eventually Yara cleared her throat. “Were you…” She trailed off. She’d been about to ask if he was happier after he joined her, but she realized now that that question would seem foolish to him. Before she could rephrase the question, he spoke.

“When you released me from that cage, you helped me to fulfill my purpose,” he said. “You helped me to find answers in a land that harbours little wisdom. And you recovered my asala.”

She nodded and waited for him to go on, but it seemed that he was finished speaking for now. Yara recrossed her legs and shrugged. “Well, I’m happy you decided to join us.”

He looked at her carefully. “This is what being happy means to you? Having strangers follow you?”

She snorted a little laugh. “No, of course not. But I do think being happy means being with people you love. People who love you.”

His gaze sharpened, and Yara realized with a horrified jolt that she’d basically just admitted that she loved him.

He was staring at her again in that way that felt like he was seeing straight down to her bones. “And if those people go away?” he asked. “If they die or are taken from you? If they leave your side? What then?”

Friends dying or leaving or being taken away? Her breath stalled in her chest at the bluntness of his question. She thought of Tamlen and of her whole clan, and of Morrigan leaving without saying goodbye. She thought of Alistair and Zevran and Oghren, whom she’d left behind in Denerim. 

A swelling of distress filled her throat, but she refused to dwell on it. She forced herself to inhale. “I don’t know,” she said.

Sten lifted his chin slightly. “This definition of ‘happiness’ based on love is not sustainable,” he said. 

Yara scoffed and dropped his penetrating amethyst gaze. “Don’t try and tell me that qunari don’t love each other,” she said. “I don’t believe that.”

“Of course we do,” Sten said, somewhat to her surprise. “I felt love for the brothers of my beresaad. But love is not purpose for qunari.”

She shot him a resentful look. “Well, I’m not qunari.”

“I am aware of that, kadan,” he replied.

Despite his harsh words, his tone was quite soft, and so was his expression. To Yara’s horror, tears were suddenly rising as a hot wave in her throat and at the back of her eyes.

She hastily lay down and rolled onto her side facing the wall. A moment later, the yellowish light of the oil lamp went out, and she heard the shuffle of fabric as Sten lay down in his bedroll. 

She closed her eyes, and a trickle of tears ran down the side of her face into her Sten-scented pillow. She breathed silently through her mouth to quell the weight behind her ribs, and eventually she succeeded at quashing the tears back into her chest where they belonged. 

When her face was dry once more, she carefully rolled over onto her other side.

“Sten?” she said quietly. 

“Yes?” he murmured.

She took a slow breath, then asked him the question that had been building at the back of her mind for the past few days. “Do you think I should join the Qun?”

There was a heavy pause before he replied. “All bas should join the Qun. This is the only true path to wisdom.”

That’s not really an answer, she thought. And her conviction that Sten wasn’t like a typical qunari rose even higher. If he was a typical qunari citizen, he would have just said yes, wouldn’t he?

Suddenly she remembered something odd that he’d said the first time they were in Redcliffe. He’d made a snide comment about the Chantry lacking in wisdom, which Yara had found rather amusing, but he’d finished his diatribe by saying something surprising. He’d said that someday his people would bring the Qun to all of Thedas, and that he hoped he would not live to see that day. 

She sidled closer to the edge of the bed and looked down at him. In the dim moonlight filtering through the porthole window, she could see that his eyes were closed, but his brow was creased in a tiny frown. 

“Sten?” she whispered.

“Yes?” he said.

“Tell me what you think,” she said. “Do you think I would be happier if I joined the Qun?” 

He opened his eyes to look at her. “Are you happy here on this ship?” he said. “Are you happy now?”

She gazed at him through the soft pale light of the moon. His rugged face was serious as always, but… sympathetic too, somehow. There was a subtle sort of softness in his expression — a softness to his beautiful violet eyes, perhaps, and gods save her, the piercing way he was looking at her…

She licked her lips nervously. “Yes,” she said. “I’m happy now.” 

“Then perhaps for now, that is enough,” he said. He closed his eyes once more. “Sleep, kadan. We can speak more in the morning.”

She smiled. “All right,” she whispered. She settled on her side facing the edge of the bed and let out a slow, relaxed breath. 

Then, after a long hard moment of thought, she reached down and gently squeezed Sten’s shoulder. 

A moment later, his big callused hand covered her fingers.

Her belly burst into a flurry of excitement. Sten gently squeezed her fingers, then released her hand. 

She smiled to herself, then closed her eyes. A minute later, with the salty-sleepy scent of Sten’s pillow beneath her cheek and his solid shoulder beneath her palm, Yara fell asleep.