#also I’m no biologist so take this all with a cup of salt

[thesealantern]

I was thinking about shape anatomy, as one does, while falling asleep today…

So you know how each shape has its own unique ability? I like to believe it’s less of a magical thing and more so just because of how they’re built.

Pentagons:

•Thick, rough skin. Potentially scale like?

•Definitely have to have a different bone structure, also maybe they have some protection cushioning around their internal organs? Potentially store fat (do shapes do that?) in a different manner compared to other shapes.

•Their eyes therefore wouldn’t be protected by their skin and I like to imagine them as an Achilles heel of sorts.

•Also what if when their bones are just really good at healing micro fractions? They bones get a tiny bit damaged when they get hurt but it grows back much stronger. I know that kinda takes away the “immune to injury” aspect but like,,, only getting a tiny micro fracture in the bone after falling from a ten foot tall tree is still pretty impressive in my opinion but idk

•Also they might have a very weak nervous system as a result. Maybe their skin is so thick that nerve endings don’t reach far into it? That could be fun

•Maybe they have an open circulatory system like cockroaches… okay yeah I’m pushing it but I think that would be neat…

Spheres:

•I imagine they’re more lightweight, so probably have a much faster metabolism to accommodate that

•I think it would be cool if they had hollow bones like birds… I mean it would make them much lighter and for Iris’ almost teleportation like speed it would make sense, what if the royal family just mixed with other shapes less? Therefore their bones are more hollow giving them better super speed?

•Probably have some very specific muscles that allow them to run so fast

•Also circles and balls are just very good aerodynamically, round surfaces have less drag then flat ones so I imagine that’s another reason

•I just like hollow bone Sphere headcannon okay…

Cubes:

•I like to imagine they have heavier bones, much denser and stronger

•Also they probably have a special way their muscles grow, a higher amount of certain hormones (or whatever the shape equivalent is) that helps them grow much stronger more quickly?

•They also most likely have a unique way of storing fat, I feel like each shape has a different “most common” body type and, while there always are exceptions, it’s just the way most of them automatically develop. (Cubes would be shorter, a more “box” kind of body type [get it?] when they do develop muscles they’re more of the weightlifter/shot-putter type. Circles would be more slim and tall, usually developing mostly running muscles. And Pentagons? Idk man,, probably lean into something more similar to the Cube body type but a bit more lean? Maybe they have denser muscles [for protection] so they generally have less of them? I really don’t know…)

Also I think Monsters should have a transparent eyelid like snakes do. Because I think that’s neat. Oh! Or maybe flowers, kind of like how rabbits have a third eye-lid. They seem more vulnerable compared to the other shapes so it would make them more alert. I think that would be neat… imagine Lythorus sleeping with his eyes wide open… yeah that’s the stuff

[kiirokero]

Seashell (KNJ)

Pairing: Merman!Namjoon x MarineBiologist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Merman!Au, Strangers to friends to lovers

Word Count: 4,393 

Summary: Working as a marine biologist was a dream. You loved the ocean and its creatures, and one of those creatures loves you back. What happens when things go sideways and you have nowhere else to go besides to the one person who felt like home?

Warnings: Slight allusion to animal mistreatment.

Note: This took way too long...

   You breathed in the fresh salty air of the beach; it stung your nostrils pleasantly as you sighed, content laced in the action. The sunset on the horizon was beautiful, decorating the soft sand and calm waters delicately. Every day after work, you would walk down from your house that was up the hill, towards the soothing beach you saw every day. You could clearly see your small beachside house from the shore, making the rarely visited beach that much more intimate.

     Just like always, you played along the shore like a little kid. Drawing things in the sand, splashing around in the shallow waters, collecting seashells. It was just the thing you needed after a long shift at work. The sand between your toes and the salty air in your hair calmed the tension you had from the hours before. Being a marine biologist wasn't easy, especially when you were constantly getting into arguments with your boss over the health and safety of the local coral reef. He always said it wasn't a huge priority, but in imminent danger or not, you felt it needed to be protected more.

    "Why can't he understand that it's better to protect it now rather than later?" You grumbled, taking a seat on a rock that breached the barrier between shore and ocean. A cliff stretching overtop half-way, giving the area a cave-like feeling. You walked to the edge and put your feet in the cool water, smiling as the familiar tide of the salty water caressed your skin. You splashed the water around, watching the deep blue swirl in a smooth dance, the deep orange light of the lowering sunset blushing the surface with blinding sparkles. It mesmerized you. So much so, that when you felt something brush up against your feet, it gave you a heart attack.

     You shot your feet out of the water and slid away from the edge of the rock. Breathing unevenly as you looked down at your feet for any abnormalities. After you calmed down, you chuckled at yourself for overreacting, "Gosh, it was probably just seaweed... Scardy cat." You moved back towards the edge, peering into the deep blue, tumbling backward when a sudden splash caught you off guard. You shrieked, falling on your back, groaning at the sudden, sharp pain it caused.

    "Oh no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" You heard a deep voice say, you sat up and looked at the source of the mysterious speaking. Eyes landing on a muscular man with honey tan skin. Deep, sparkling brown eyes. Wet dark blue hair saturated with water. But what caught you off guard the most was the fin-like appendages protruding from the man's forearms, resembling those of a fish, the shape familiar to you as you saw the same appendages on the little creatures you interacted with on a day-to-day basis.

     You didn't even realize you weren't moving or speaking until he spoke up again. "Um... Hello? Are you okay?" You blinked before nodding a 'yes', not trusting your words flow out of your mouth. He gave you a smile, and you didn't miss the beautiful dimples that adorned his equally beautiful face. He placed his hands on the edge of the rock and pushed himself out of the water, landing on the edge with a thud. You gawked at his toned body and strength. If only you knew what to expect when you looked down.

     Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw that instead of legs, the man had a beautiful blue tail. Scales shining in the light as they effortlessly flowed down the limb. Scales also dotted around his abdomen, creating a satisfying transition from human to sea creature. The man noticed you staring and chuckled, the sound deep as it vibrated against your ears.

"Never seen a merman before?" He teased.

"M-merman?" You echoed.

"Yeah, you know, half fish half man."

"You guys are real?!" You shrieked.

"Ouch, yes, of course we're real."

    You realized your harsh words and quickly apologized, "I was just surprised is all... This isn't a prank... right?" You cautioned. He shook his head and motioned you to come closer, which you did. Something was telling you the man should unsettle you, that you should scamper back to your house, locking the door, far away from the mystery man. But another part of you trusted him. Maybe it was the fact he resembled a human, or maybe it was the curiosity of the marine biologist in you, you weren't sure.

    The man gently took your hand and placed it on his tail. You let out a quiet gasp as the familiar feeling of fish scales met your fingertips. No doubt it was entirely fishlike, the way it felt semi slimy but smooth. He took your hand again and put it on the fin that was attached to his forearm, and yet again, it felt just like a fish, down to the T.

"Believe me now?" He asked.

"Y-yeah," You nodded, "I'm Y/N by the way..."

"Namjoon."

"Nice to meet you, Namjoon."

      You didn’t go back to the beach for a couple days, scared to face the reality that you thought was just a dream. But it wasn’t, the pain in your back told you otherwise. Merman. The word ran through your head over and over. Merman. The creature that originally made you curious about the ocean was real. It breathed, swam, talked. 

      How was this even biologically possible? You always thought that if Merfolk were real, they’d be bald for less traction in the water, have more scales than skin, no nose even. But Namjoon was handsome. Like a siren. His skin had this beautiful honey glow and he seemed to be sculpted by Poseidon. He had the looks of a god, yet when he smiled he turned into a cutie. 

      You sat on your back porch thinking about him, the setting sun a familiar memory. Why are you thinking about him? You wanted to say it’s because you're a scientist and he interests you biologically, but deep down, you know that’s not the truth. He interests you as a person. How could someone so good looking be so shy and clumsy?

      You sighed, opting to go see if he was there at the rock. It wasn’t a long walk; you got there in no time, but the place seemed to be vacant. Nothing but you and the waves brushing up against the rocks. It was quite calm today, calmer than normal, which made you want to stay here for a bit. The sight was familiar, the setting sun, orange rays, sparkling ocean. You took a deep breath, humming at the distinct smell of sand and salt. It was always so lovely.

“You’re back.” 

     Surprisingly, you didn’t jump six feet in the air when you heard his voice, you just calmly turned your head to the side. There he was in all his tan glory, the setting sun making him look ethereal. “Yeah... I am.” You sighed. “I thought I scared you away...” Namjoon said gloomily, swimming over to where you dipped your legs in the water. You didn’t say anything back, what could you say? ‘Hey, you’re literally defying everything I learned in college and I don’t know what’s true anymore’? That was one reason, but the most damning one was, ‘You interest me as a person, and nobody interests me. It’s scary how we seem to click.’ How do you say that?

      “I... don’t scare you, do I?” Namjoon asked, making sure to keep some distance between the two of you. “You don’t have to be scared, I’m not dangerous.” You giggled at his words. No, you didn’t think he was dangerous, if he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it earlier. What was dangerous is the way you want to be around him. You wanted to make him smile, you wanted to get to know him. You never felt that with anyone else. It was dangerous how much you wanted to have him as a friend. “I know that, but finding out that Mermen exist was a shock.” You partially admitted. “I guess it would be for anybody.” He chuckled. “But you came back.” He pointed out. 

      “Yeah, I did.” He swam closer, testing if you were going to push him away. “Why?” He whispered. You bit the inside of your cheek, you were never good at lying, and he’s asking the question you desperately wanted to answer with a lie. But you couldn’t. Not when he was looking at you like you weren’t a selfish human. “I’d like to say it’s because the scientist in me is curious about mermen.. But the truth is, you just interest me as a person.” Namjoon was silent for a bit, contemplation clear on his face. 

      “You’re a scientist?” He finally said. “Marine Biologist.” You clarified. His eyes lit up, and in his excitement, jumped up on the rock and cupped your face in his soft hands. “So you like the ocean?” He gasped and you swore you could see stars in his eyes. “Yes, I love the ocean and everything about it.” You chuckled. “Then we’d be great friends!” His smile was huge and you couldn’t help the urge to poke one of his dimples. 

Friends... Could you be friends?

   "Not fair, fish boy!" You yelled. "Oh, it's totally fair!" Namjoon retorted, splashing you with water once again, using his massive tail to his advantage. It felt like getting hit by a tidal wave. "You play so dirty!" You complained, sending a splash towards him, weak compared to his tsunami. It had been two years since your first encounter with Namjoon. The day you went back to the beach again, the two of you talked and got to know each other. At first, you planned to go home and finally forget about him, but after a lot of begging, Namjoon convinced you to come back, and then it became a habit.

     Namjoon swam up to you and pulled you close into his arms. He usually did this when he saw you were tiring from keeping yourself afloat. "You're not fair." You huffed as you rested your head on his chest. You heard him laugh, deep and smooth, causing you to smile. Namjoon became your only friend since you could never connect with the people you interacted with daily. He would bring you shells, pearls, flora, and much more. Your house looked like a beach itself.

     "I'm so lucky I found you, Y/N." Namjoon sighed, you looked up at him and smiled, "What makes you say that?" You tilted your head to the side, awaiting a response. "You're just so.. awesome. You teach me things about humans and you've always been there for me. My brothers have heard so much about you that your name is a regular topic in our house." He admitted. He had mentioned his brothers before, all 6 of them. You always laughed at the funny stories that Namjoon would tell you about the energetic Jungkook or the grumpy Yoongi. Confining in you whenever he had a fight with his older brothers, mostly Seokjin, and you sat there as he complained about his younger brother's shenanigans.

     "Your sure they're fine with you hanging around with a human?" You questioned jokingly. Namjoon threw his head back and groaned, knowing the question all too well. You used to ask seriously, honestly worried about him, but after the eighth time, it just became a joke to annoy the merman. "I'm not answering that." He grumbled. You couldn't hold back your laugher and Namjoon begrudgingly joined you, laughing along.

     You couldn't help but admire Namjoon. His pretty eyes, cute dimples, plump lips, everything about him screamed perfection. His muscular arms and toned body always seemed to make your legs weak, his smile made your heart thud, and his personality mirrored a charming prince. You always admired him, and it scared you. 

     "Y/N, you're staring~" Namjoon's sultry voice caught you off guard, you quickly looked away, hiding your red face in embarrassment. "You're adorable!" He mused as he poked your cheeks, causing you to whine and swat his hands away, "Stoopp," You complained. He chuckled and pulled you close, stroking your hair, making you look up at him.

      The look in his eye was comforting, homely. It made your heart soft, wanting to melt into the warmth of his tan chest, to fall asleep to the melody of his breathing. You missed feeling warm. You missed hugs. You were touch starved and this god of a merman was giving you what you needed. Even if the two of you said nothing, the only noise filling your ears that of the ocean's wave, it wasn’t awkward. It was never awkward with Namjoon. 

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Until now.

"W-what?"

"Can I kiss you? Do humans not kiss?" He tilted his head like a lost puppy.

"Y-yes humans kiss, but why do you want to kiss me?" You blushed.

"I like you. I really like you." He admitted.

"Don't play jokes, Joon..."

     "But it's not a joke, I really do! I love your hair, your voice, your eyes, the way you scrunch your nose at the mention of sea kelp ramen." You scrunched your nose, and he giggled, "Yeah, like that, so, can I seal my confession with a kiss?" He asked, a silent plead hiding in his eyes. 

      Your brain was frying, thrown for a loop. Yes, you found Namjoon majorly attractive, not just in looks, but in personality. How he could go on and on about the botanical world of the ocean. How sometimes he was clumsy with the huge blue appendage that he’s dealt with for years, yet still fumbling over it from time to time. How he spoke so lovingly of his brothers. 

     However, you were a human; he was a merman. You had two legs; he had a tail. How was it supposed to work? How could you give him everything he needs? You couldn’t hold him at night, you couldn’t go on dates, you couldn’t even see each other unless it was here. 

      But you were selfish. You were selfish and wanted to be with him, despite all the reasons why you shouldn’t. Why you should back up and tell Namjoon that it could never work, that you couldn’t be the one for him. But you were selfish, and you nodded your head, pushing down the bubbling guilt you felt in your chest when you saw him smile. It was blinding.

       He leaned in and you felt his plump lips meet yours, fitting together like a puzzle piece. It was soft at first, gentle as if your lips were glass, easily broken. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He tilted his head to kiss you deeper, pressing his warm lips against yours eagerly, desperately wanting to imprint the shape of your lips in his mind, remember the curve of your cupids bow and the warmth that made his heart beat faster.

      If you were standing, your sure your knees would’ve wobbled with the way his soft touch sent your heart soaring. You couldn’t focus on anything but him, the merman in front of you. His slightly calloused fingers rubbing circles on the small of your back, his tail wrapping its way around your legs, his wet hair dripping salt water down your face. 

      His arms flexed as he gripped your waist tighter, waiting to keep you there, flush against his body forever. Nothing but the two of you and the ocean, lovingly caressing you with its calm waves. The thoughts of the long-term nothing but ghostly whispers, lingering in the back of your mind. You wanted to stay here forever, in his muscular arms, wrapped up in his beautiful tail.

     Unfortunately, you had to breathe, so you pulled away, huffing to make up for the lost oxygen. You looked up at Namjoon, eyes half lidded. "Wow," Namjoon sighed, "I want to kiss you forever," You giggled and buried your head in his chest. "Can we... be a thing?" He asked, hesitance laced in his voice. It was a question you secretly dreaded, because you knew you couldn’t refuse him."As long as your brothers are fine with you dating a human." You teased. Attempting to swallow your guilt.

"Y/N I swear to god."

      Today was a rough day, and that’s putting it lightly. You woke up feeling amazing, the memories of your fun with Namjoon still fresh, even if it was yesterday. However, when you stepped into work, things turned sour. 

      You never had a terrible relationship with your co-workers per se... But you weren’t a people person either. You found it hard to have a conversation with someone who you just didn’t click with, unlike Namjoon. Though, you weren’t expecting this. 

      It was no secret the company you were working for was going under. They just never seemed to make the right decisions, always favoring money over their actual job. Protecting and researching sea life. It ended up being there downfall after a lawsuit ended up on their way too shiny desks. You don’t know exactly what happened, but pieces of information made its way through the grapevine.

      Apparently, they made another greedy decision. The local sea otter population was dwindling slowly. Sadly, you’d see less and less of the little guys. It was the company's job to humanely capture and help the otters, eventually releasing them when scientists, like you, found out why they were dying. Humanely was the key word. A key word they didn’t pay attention to when a cheaper, crueler way of capturing the otters arose. 

      You already felt shitty. If only you’d known, you could’ve done something about it sooner. However, you were at the bottom of the food chain. Your job was to utilize those years of college to research these animals. Everyone knew you were always extra caring towards these creatures. How could you not be? They had no idea what was happening, you at least wanted to ease their anxiety in the form of positive reenforcement. 

     Little bits of fish here and there, pets for the animals that you could touch, giving the water bound creature the extra large tanks. It was the least you could do. You always wanted the animals to feel okay, because they shouldn’t be away from home in the first place. But your ways of comfort caused time, and money.

      Which was the perfect reason for your boss to lay you off. Of course it was a coverup, they needed to let employees go, to keep their money, you understood that. But they couldn't do it without a sound reason, So, when you found out all of your co-workers threw you under the bus to save their own asses from getting fired, it infuriated you. 

      How could they? What did you do to them? Nothing. It was a dog eats dog world here, and you knew it from the beginning. It was obvious most of the people here were in it for the hearty amount of money being a marine biologist could get them, not for the animals. 

      You didn’t know what to do, the closest place that would hire you was 30 miles away, meaning you’d have to move. You’d have to leave without Namjoon, and that broke your heart. The thought of not seeing his dorky face every day after work tore your heart apart. This is what you get for being selfish. The universe was turning on you, making you feel the pain of heartbreak and the hopelessness of your world crumbling before you. 

      Soon, you find yourself sitting on the rock that is full of memories. Some good, some bad. Like the time the two of you had your first argument, idiotically about who knows more on sea life. Or the memory where Namjoon gifted you a seashell necklace that you still wear till this day, you never take it off. The sudden sound of splashing water tore you out of your thoughts. 

      “Darling!” Namjoon’s warm voice flowed through the air, blessing your ears with some sort of comfort. He smiled at you, his cute dimples showing, giving you the urge to poke them. However, his smile faltered when he saw the tear stains tainting your cheeks.

      “Seashell, what’s wrong?” He called, heaving himself up on the rock. Seashell, the nickname made you smile. You never thought it could be a pet name, but Namjoon seemed to make it work, insisting he’d use it since they were your favorite thing to collect and the ones he gave you sat proudly on a designated shelf.

      “It’s been... A bad day.” Your voice came out rough and shaky. Namjoon reached out to you, pulling you into his arms. He was wet, and the water saturated through your nice work clothes, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be selfish again and have Namjoon hold you before you told him the news. News that would not only shatter you, but Namjoon too. 

      Tears flowed out of your eyes as sobs wracked through your body. You wrapped your arms around Namjoon’s semi-scaly waist and held him closer, desperately wanting to burn the feeling of his warmth into your mind. Namjoon let you cry before trying to calm down your frantic breaths. “Hey... Y/n. Breath darling. Calm down.” Namjoon whispered to you, resting his forehead against yours.

      “Breathe with me.” He ran you through a basic breathing exercise. In through your nose, out through your mouth. After you calmed down, you felt the pressure building up behind your eyes and you dreaded the headache that was to come tomorrow. 

      “There you go.” Namjoon smiled, pulling you into a chaste kiss. “Now, talk to me, seashell.” You weakly smiled, gathering the remnants of your courage that laid in pieces around you. “I...” You took a deep breath, “I got fired today...” You choked out, almost breaking down again. Namjoon cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone. “Oh, darling...” He pulled you closer to him once again, holding you tight. “But... That’s not all...” You murmured into his chest.

      Namjoon pulled you away, giving you a look that said ‘Carry on.’ “T-The closest place that can hire me is 30 miles away...” The tears started coming back. “And... And that means I would have t-to leave but... Joonie, I don’t want to leave...” You choked down a sob and buried your face back into Namjoon's chest. He said nothing as he held you closer, silently comforting you the best he can. 

      You can tell by his slumped body language that he was feeling hurt, lost, heart broken. Your selfish actions have led to somebody’s despair and it made you sob harder. Guilt wracked its way through your body, and you collapsed in his hold. “Come with me...” Namjoon whispered, petting your hair. 

      You shot your head up, looking Namjoon right in the eye. “W-What? I can’t Joonie. I’m not like you...” He held your hands and started scooting towards the edge of the rock. “Yoongi hyung! He can help!” He exclaimed with a newfound hope. “How?” You chuckled somberly at the excitement in Namjoon’s eyes. “He’s what we call a sea witch. Remember when we talked about them one day?” You nodded, remembering how you glowed like a child when you found out about Merfolk magic. “Yoongi hyung might know a spell... To help us.” He lowered himself into the water, placing his hands on your knees. 

      “What are you saying Joon?” You pressed. “I-I don’t want to lose you... So... I want to be selfish and take you with me.” He sighed, eyes a mix of intangible emotions. You froze, Namjoon? Selfish? Never. He was the most selfless person you’ve met. Always willing to help you, hold you, gift you things, make time for you. If you’d ask him to pull a scale and give it to you, he’d do it in a heartbeat to make you happy.

      You were the selfish one, knowing that one day you’d have to part ways. Falling in love with someone who felt like the home you lost long ago. You were the selfish one for giving in, for desperately wanting happiness, even if you knew it would hurt everyone in the end, Life throws wrenches in your road all the time, but you still let him fall in love with you. You let him kiss you, hug you, hold you, all for your selfish desire to be loved. “Your not selfish, Joon...” You sighed, and he gave you a soft smile.

      “Yoongi knows this transformation spell. He showed it to me a month ago... I thought maybe it could help us... Be together.” Namjoon was desperately dancing around the subject, but the hints he gave you were enough. “He can turn me into a mermaid?” You gasped, Namjoon nodded, taking both of your hands in his, kissing each one. 

      “I-If you want to...” He stuttered, nervous. If you wanted to... Did you want to? What did you have to lose? You don’t have a job, or friends... What about family? You're a single child to deceased parents, the only connection you had with your family was the New Year's postcards you got from your second cousin who seemed adamant about keeping it peachy with everyone who has your family's blood. 

      So what did you truly have to lose? If you went off the grid, who would look for you? Would they care enough to look for you? Your cousins are all married with their own lives, and your aunts and uncles only seemed to acknowledge you when they disagreed on your political opinions. The only person who ever made you feel loved in a way you lost when your parents passed was the merman, who looked on the brink of tears, floating in front of you. 

If you went with him, you had nothing to lose, so why refuse?

“Go get the grumpy old man. I’ll be here.” 

“Really? You’ll come with me?” Namjoon gasped.

“Yes.” You smiled.

“I love you so much, Seashell.”

“I love you too, Joonie.” 

[hermannsthumb]

I love your writing so so much!! Prompt: middle-aged husbands! Newt gets back from a work trip with some salt and pepper scruff he didn't have time to shave and Hermann goes a little weak in the knees

oh ho ho....also everything im writing this month and next must necessarily be set a snowy setting sry. as always thank u to k-sci-janitor for bouncing ideas w me over discord mild sexy stuff below cut!

--------

When Newton stumbles through the front door in a flurry of snow and clatter of suitcases two weeks after he left for a research trip, Hermann notices two things; the first, that the cliche about absence making the heart grow fonder really is true, the second, that Newton’s cheeks (when Hermann rushes to meet him in a rather embarrassingly fast fashion and allows himself to be scooped up into Newton’s arms, of all things) are distinctly...rougher than usual. Rougher, and pricklier. “How’s the hottest scientist in the world?” Newton says, after an entirely inappropriate amount of kissing. The neighbors could see, for goodness’ sake. “God, dude, I missed you so fucking much.”

“Close the door,” Hermann laughs. “You’re letting all the heat out, and the bloody snow in.”

But Newton merely kisses him again and again, cornering him against the wall and settling his hands low on Hermann’s hips. His cheeks scratch Hermann’s skin; Hermann shivers, not knowing whether from it or the chill of the air. “How much did you miss me?” Newton murmurs.

“Not enough to put on a show for the neighbors,” Hermann chides, though he shivers again when Newton nuzzles against him. He taps the end of his cane against the sodden laces of Newton’s boots. “Mm, ah, come on, I’ve lit a fire, and, and made us tea, take your—wet things off, and—”

Newton steps back with a grin. “You gonna warm me up, Hermann?”

“With a fire and tea,” Hermann says. He shuts the door before more snow can drift in to melt on the hardwood. “Er. For now, anyway. And do hang your jacket this time.”

Newton stumbles out of his winter things in record time, and then stumbles after Hermann the moment they’re tossed haphazardly onto the coat rack. “It’s so…neat in here,” he says, marveling as they pass through the tidy kitchen to get to the equally tidy sitting room, where the fireplace blazes away. “Did you do anything besides clean while I was gone?”

The truth of the matter is that Hermann (lost to mathematical abstraction, and lacking a partner to snap him out of it) let his clutter—half-finished tea, discarded notebook pages, broken pencils and chalk—pile up on every available surface throughout the two weeks of Newton’s absence, and only remembered the previous evening that this was not the usual state of their flat and he ought to see to it very quickly before Newton arrived home. He hopes Newton doesn’t take a peek inside their study any time soon. “Er, something like that,” Hermann says. “Clean, and miss you horrendously. How was the trip?”

“Long,” Newton says. He sits on the couch and drags Hermann down with him. There’s something different in his face Hermann can’t quite put his finger on—he’s changed somehow, Hermann is sure of it, but the question is how? Has he resorted to his spare pair of glasses? No—these are the ones he usually wears; Hermann can see the miniscule crack at the bottom of the left lens, sustained after a particularly energic round of lovemaking in which Hermann rolled right over on top of them. Not that any of that is at all relevant, of course. “Lonely. Fascinating, though, I wish you’d come with me.”

Newton was excited about his trip for weeks. Even the extinction of his object of study couldn’t make him any less one of the top k-biologists, and he was brought in to oversee the salvaging of some of the very last kaiju remains in existence—preserved all these years since the closure of the Breach by the ice of Alaska. Newton sent picture after picture of it, the snow, him bumbling around in the snow in Hermann’s borrowed winter parka, the team he led bundled up in parkas of their own. Hermann knows he ought to ask about it and ask how the salvage efforts went; he knows he ought to ask about the cold, and the snow, and whether or not the other remaining k-scientists were anyone they’d worked with before. Instead, he can’t seem to stop squinting at Newton. “Have you cut your hair?” Hermann says. “Or styled it differently, perhaps? Only there’s something so different about you, I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Different?” Newton says, frowning. “What do you—?" Then he laughs. “Oh! Yeah, I was wayyyy too busy to shave. You’re looking at, like, about as close as I ever get to a full-on beard.” He drags his hand over his jaw, and it rasps audibly. Of course—how did Hermann not realize that from Newton’s scratchy kisses? His stubble, usually so carefully maintained (even in the midst of the war), is overgrown enough to verge on thick, and for the first time Hermann notices the decent smattering of grey across it. It’s—well—it’s hardly a bad look on him. Rather, Hermann might say it’s the opposite. It makes him look older, a bit more…er, distinguished. “You like it?”

Hermann remembers the marvelous way it scratched across his skin. “Hmm,” he says.

Newton laughs again, and tugs at the front of Hermann’s sweater. “C’mon, take this off already. It’s been two weeks, dude.”

Hermann can’t argue with that logic.

Later, in bed, as Newton—having volunteered selflessly for the duty of big spoon—snores away happily at Hermann’s back, Hermann considers recent developments. He’s never been dissatisfied with Newton’s appearance before; he’s never looked at his husband and thought oh, I wish his hair was a bit different, or I could do without those glasses. Certainly never I want him to have a big, magnificent face of grey stubble that tickles my neck and my chest and my thighs and… Hermann presses his face into his pillow and groans in mortification. Oh, but God, it is an improvement. It’s an improvement Hermann never knew Newton needed. Not that he did need it—it’s just—Oh.

Newton mumbles something in his sleep and rolls away from Hermann. His stubble catches and drags on the back of Hermann’s neck, and Hermann stifles a moan into the pillow this time. Newton intends to shave it off, Hermann knows. Hermann watched him unpack his suitcase in the bedroom, watched him carefully tuck his shaving kit back into the medicine cabinet with a laugh and a reassurance of that very fact (take a picture while you can, it’s coming off tomorrow), all while he felt the tingle of irritated skin between his thighs that Newton had left behind on the couch. He snuck a glimpse at it when he changed into pyjamas—a faded red that matches that on his neck.

To explain to Newton why it is imperative he not proceed with his planned shave would be far too mortifying an experience for Hermann to undergo. And Newton would certainly never let him hear the end of it. No; it would be better to take matters into his own hands. Hermann swings two socked feet to the floor and reaches for his cane as quietly as he can manage.

Newton’s back-up disposable razors are snapped in two and buried in the bottom of the trashcan, beneath two weeks’ worth of dental floss and paper Dixie cups. His nice shaving kit proves a bit more of a challenge, not in the least because Hermann bought it for him as a birthday gift not long ago, and the thought of intentionally damaging it makes him cringe. He settles on simply stealing all the razor attachments and hiding them at the bottom of the spare hand towel basket. Hopefully, by the time they turn up, Newton will have long-since decided to grow out his stubble even further.

Newton stirs very lightly when Hermann tucks himself back beneath the bedspread and Newton’s arm. “’S the matter?” he mumbles.

“Had to use the loo,” Hermann whispers back.

“Mm,” Newton says, and presses his lips Hermann’s shoulder once before his breathing slowly evens out.

Hermann lazes in bed late the next morning. Late for them, anyway; pseudo-retirement hasn’t managed to knock a decade of strict routine out of him and Newton yet, and they still wake and dress before the sunrise like the war never ended. However, a soft, warm, and jetlagged Newton in his arms is hard to pull himself away from, especially with nothing but a foot of snow outside to look forward to, so he lets himself drift happily in and out of dreams for a good hour or so. Until Newton’s cell phone alarm startles them both up, that is. “Ugh,” Newton groans, smacking around on the bedside table for it. “Stupid thing. Where—”

He left it on Hermann’s bedside table. Hermann switches it off.

“Thanks, dude,” Newton says. He yawns. “Got a meeting this afternoon about the, uh, samples. Never get a break.”

Hermann hears him walk to the bathroom. He hears him open the medicine cabinet. He hears the zip of his shaving kit bag. “Uh,” Newton says. He pokes his head into the bedroom. “Hermann, do you know what happened to my razor?”

Hermann sits up and feigns a frown. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Like, all the parts are gone,” Newton says. He rifles through the kit again, as if to be sure, and shakes his head. “Yeah. They’re all gone. Shit, did I leave them at the base?”

“Oh, no,” Hermann says. “Your nice razor? The one I got you?”

Newton ducks back into the bathroom; Hermann hears him rattle around in the medicine cabinet again. “All my razors are missing. What the hell? I have a meeting in a few hours, I can’t show up looking like—” There’s a loud clatter, as if Newton knocked all their medication bottles over into the sink, and he swears. “Oh, well that’s fucking peachy.” He slams the cabinet door shut.

“Newton, come back to bed,” Hermann calls. He and Newton have limited time before they’re meant to start their responsibilities for the day, and he would like very much to enjoy that time to the fullest. “You’re making a mess of things. I’m sure you’ve just misplaced your razor—perhaps it’s in your suitcase.” When Newton doesn’t immediately bend to his command, Hermann rolls his eyes and lowers his voice. “Newton, darling,” he says, though this time in more of a purr. “Come back to bed.”

Newton is back and on Hermann in a flash. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he says between kisses. His fingers creep up Hermann’s pajama shirt and graze over Hermann’s ribs before tugging the shirt off entirely. “Hermann, I missed having sex with you so bad. You have no idea. Ugh.” He grinds his prick, already hard, into Hermann’s clothed thigh, and nips at his ear. “I kept thinking about your stupid sexy face, and your stupid sexy dick, and your stupid hair—” He burrows himself into the crook of Hermann’s newly bared neck and shoulder and kisses his collarbone, and Hermann moans at the scratchy sensation of his stubble shadow before he can help himself.

“Newton,” he gasps, “oh, bugger—”

“Ha, yeah, you like when I talk about your sexy dick, babe?” Newton says. “It’s so awesome and sexy, I can’t wait to—"

“Not that,” Hermann says. “Kiss me there again.” Newton obliges; Hermann whimpers and shivers, and (before he can help himself) confesses aloud “Oh, that damn beard of yours… I want it all over me…”

Newton pulls away with a frown. “You do?” he says. “Wait. Hermann—did you do something to my razor?”

“No,” Hermann lies. He wiggles around in a desperate attempt to get Newton’s stubble back on his skin, but Newton only pulls back further. He sighs. “Er. Perhaps. They’re just hidden, is all.”

Newton’s frown flicks up into a grin, and he laughs. “Dude, you could’ve just told me. You’re so dumb. So you like when I do this, then?” He dips back down to kisses a trail along Hermann’s sternum, making sure to graze his cheeks over his skin at every inch. “Or this?” He ducks beneath the covers and nuzzles at Hermann’s abdomen.

“Yes,” Hermann moans to the Newton-shaped lump under the blanket. Newton’s fingers work open his drawstring and slowly inch his pajama trousers down. “Yes, Newton, ah—”

“Or—”

Suffice to say, Newton keeps the beard.

[barbecuedphoenix]

Hello! I just need to say I LOVE your writing, omg I read and re-read your stuff AT LEAST once a week, seriously, you're a genius *kisses your face*. This is not really a request, just an IDEA for you to think about, but have you thought of how would be the first time Nevra drank Guardienne's blood? Maybe during sex, or before their first time...? I'm just curious to know what you think of his drinking habits if he were in a relationship with her.

*She reaches forward togently cup your cheek, her thumb tracing feather-light crescents around thepoint of your cheekbone that sends sparks dancing, waves of fire rolling across your skin withevery sly, knowing stroke*

You flatter me too much,my dear. ;)

Ahem. To answer your question, Anon., I do have a few ideas on what blood-feedingentails for Nevra. Because it’s a pretty fascinating subject for an aspiringbiologist. And you can never skip out on blood-feeding with a vampire beau. ;)

But first, I’ll have toseparate what’s implied in canon with, well, my headcanon. Brace yourself for adouble-serving of analysis and imagination. Plus science. Because there’salways science involved when talking about vampires. ^_^    

Warning: Not NSFW… but it still has a lot of innuendo. Don’t try reading thisout-loud if you’re babysitting. Not even if the kid in question likes Twilight.

What does blood-drinking mean to him? (CanonAnalysis)

Seeing that Nevra is quick to offer a bite (as a joke or agenuine pick-up line) in several episodes, and given that he does drink fromladies he isn’t dating (i.e. that awkward moment in Episode 10), my impressionis that blood-drinking is more a casual activity for Nevra than a seriouscommunion.  

The impetus also seems to be more sexual than nutritive: hedefinitely seems to prefer drinking from young ladies, instead of—shall wesay—more robust sources of blood plasma. Like young men of Valkyon’s size. (Sorry,fans. But that’s why we have headcanons.) Furthermore, Nevra has alreadymentioned in Episode 8 that it’s ‘fun’, which lends more credence to him seeingblood-drinking as a form of foreplay.  

He’s clearly unabashed about his appetite for blood, from theblasé way he shrugs off criticism, jokes, and put-downs in Episodes 10, 4, and 8 respectively. This can be due to his supreme confidence in himself… and/or his knowledge of how vampires are walkingsexual fantasies in human literature (see episode 6). But from the number ofdinner/pantry jokes he makes, I’m willing believe that– on some level– Nevrabelieves blood-drinking increases his mystique among non-vampires. Sorry,buddy… but vampires are still a niche fad in this world

It’s unknown how necessary blood-drinking is to his survival,or what benefits it gives him. But it definitely isn’t the sole component ofhis diet: Nevra can consume regularfood (see episode 8), and is partial towards certain treats like red wine andthe oh-so-appropriate blue steaks (i.e. extremely raw steaks). Personally, Isupport the idea of him having a varied, omnivorous diet (sacrilege for vampirefans, I know) because blood in itself—per volume—is not nutritious at all:mainly composed of water, protein, and salt, with some iron and trace lipidsfrom red blood cells, and a very light sprinkling of sugars and importantminerals dissolved throughout. In fact, all full-time sanguivores—i.e.blood-drinkers—in nature are on the tiny side by necessity, and still need toconsume huge quantities of blood relative to their body weight just to avoidstarvation; vampire bats, for instance, need to drink half their body weight inblood per meal. So biologically-speaking, it’s just more feasible for Nevra toeat solid meat and other concentrated sources of carbohydrates, fats, vitamins,etc. (Besides… can you imagine how many people each day have to ‘donate’ forhis most basic rations if blood is all he consumes? Between him and Karenn,they’ll drain El dry. That won’t look good for the Guard. >_>)

Consent is necessary in Nevra’s book (see Episode 10), and heaccepts refusals (and borderline insults) with aplomb. So my guess is thatblood-drinking is still considered an intimate act, despite Nevra’s ‘swinger’approach to it. And that he’s aware it isn’t the most mainstream/popular/politesexual kink in El (check Ezarel’s ire in Episode 10 on him ‘chewing on’ one ofhis alchemists). That doesn’t mean he won’t stop trying though…

Blood doesn’t turn him on every single time. In fact, Nevra compartmentalizeshis reactions to it depending on the situation. For instance, if blood isspilled as a field injury, he jumps straight into Shadow Dad! Mode (see episode6), and all sexy/food-related thoughts are forgotten. This ability to switchmindsets on a dime indicates excellent self-control… and could be an adaptationto working with non-vampires who may get uneasy at spilling blood in front ofhim. Nevra even makes a joke in episode 8 (if you take him to the kitchen) thathe’s offended that the MC thinks of him as a ‘bloodthirsty beast’.

The effects of blood-drinking? (Canon Analysis)

According to one discussion in Episode 10, you can ‘turn’ into a vampire, but having avampire feed from you isn’t what causes it (at least, not on its own). So untilmore information comes to light, blood-drinking mostly seems like a funindulgence for Nevra, with no real long term consequences.

Nevra is implied to have the capacity to drink quite a bit of blood day after day, ifValkyon’s deadpan remark in Episode 4 is anything to go by. So anemia and even shock would be the most common health risks involved inblood-drinking besides infection (unsurprisingly). How much Nevra can drink ina single sitting is still up to debate, but he does have his principles andisn’t likely to drain partners to the point of shock. How else did he gainsuch a wide net of… voluntary donors?

His vampiric skills involved withblood-drinking? (Headcanon)

Like allvampires, he’s gifted with an extremely nimble tongue… which he uses to drink andpurr like a cat, never wasting a drop of blood and being finicky in lickinghis lips and fingers clean. And his partner’s skin, of course. Wheneverpossible, Nevra also avoids staining the bedsheets and his or his partner’sclothes; only amateurs are thatsloppy.

His nose isn’tjust good for sniffing out blood and fear from a quarter-mile away: theskin on the underside of his nose is highly thermosensitive (just like avampire bat), which allows him track rich arteries under the skin forprecision-bites, even in pitch darkness. His lips and fingertips too are packedwith biological thermo-sensors (not quite like a vampire bat). You cancompletely blindfold him, and he stillwon’t miss your carotid artery.    

Good news: his bites don’t hurt. This is because the razor-sharppoints of his fangs are the envy of swordsmiths and surgeons. Not to mentionthat they’re coated in a natural anesthetic compound found in his saliva. (Likevampire bats; how else do they sneak up on their prey and dine on them for half-an-hourwithout waking them up?) At most, if he’s really eager and/or careless thatnight, you’ll feel two tiny pricks where his mouth meets your skin. Rightbefore he distracts you with all the other things he’s doing.

The bad news: there are also natural anticoagulants in hissaliva that prevent blood from clotting easily. (How else can his people get a long drink?) So the only way to staunch thebleeding from his bite is to clean and bandage the wound, maybe tie atourniquet if it’s a deep one, then wait it out. Fortunately, he also offers thisservice as a courtesy.

Nevra has an uncanny way of estimating his partner’s bodyweight, and then approximating how much blood he can afford to drink from them withoutrisking shock. Sans instruments. Just try lying about your weight to him. Hehas an excellent eye for volumetric amounts and measurements, honed byexperience.

His sense oftaste is actually very poor—an adaptation among vampires to cope with theirpeculiar drink of choice–, so the bracing iron taste of fresh blood doesn’tmake a difference to him. As do many foods, though he won’t admit this toothers. (So if there’s any poison in his food or drink, he has to do his bestto sniff them out instead. And bet on his robust immune system to buy him enoughtime to reach his cache of antidotes.)

He has abody built for the bedroom, uh, I mean blood consumption: his liver cancope with very high concentrations of iron, and the lining of his stomachabsorbs excess water rapidly. His immune system also lends some credence to thelegends of ‘immortal’ vampires: allowing him to resist most common diseases,and rally quickly from pathogens in infected blood.      

How does he generally treat his partners whendrinking from them? (Headcanon)

I see blood-drinking as a fringe kink, fetish, and longtime socialpractice that Nevra’s people have. It combines food-play with sex, formalizesan intimate bond between individuals, and is even used as a form oftreatment in traditional medicine. (Why pointed fangs and an appetite for bloodbecame hereditary traits suggests some strong evolutionary benefits…but that’s for another day.) But Nevra, being a modern young vampire, prefersto apply blood-drinking as a form of tasty foreplay, to be carried outinside or outside the bedroom, with casual or serious partners. Drinking during sex though is what automatically flipshis high-voltage switch and unleashes the fireworks. From that point, it’s aone-way ticket to a wild night. Expect soreness and a tactical scarf the nextmorning.  

The mood to drink is never far from his mind once he startsgetting cozy with his partner, and Nevra is never shy about suggesting itthrough heavy innuendo, slow kisses that nibble lightly at their inner wrist orneck, or merely smiling and posing a two-word question that leaves no doubt onwhat he wants. Still, winning consent is a matter of honor for him, and henever tries to surprise partners with a bite, even if he has fed from them before.If they’re not keen on the idea at the moment, he may pout and try to cajolethem, but will ultimately accept their refusal.

Location is key: some arteries are in patently sexier placesthan others. Drinking from the wrist is the most chaste by far, whereasdrinking from the neck is getting pretty heavy (but still possible to dooutside the bedroom). And drinking from the inside of the thigh is savedstrictly for behind closed doors. Depending on Nevra’s mood, the state ofhis partner’s skin at that location (some places might still be healing fromprior bites), and/or the need to look halfway decent in public, he’ll switchbetween different areas.  

No matter his partner’s species, Nevra aims to keepblood-drinking safe, health-wise, as a point of pride and courtesy. (He of allpeople knows the risks involved with infection, blood-transmitted diseases,tissue scarring, anemia, and shock from blood loss.) So he’ll limit himself ifhis partner is on the petite side, and always spaces out feedings until they’rein optimal health again. And he’ll never so much as nip at his partner if they’rerecovering from an injury, are sick, or are susceptible to the health risksinvolved in opening a vein. Hearing that his partner consulted a doctor right aftertheir bedroom shenanigans will embarrass Nevra to no end. He is looking after them, he swears!  

He never goes anywhere without keeping one black silkhandkerchief in his pocket, just large enough to wrap around a neck or sveltethigh that’s been offered to him. Staunching the bleeding and covering up themarks of his teeth is what he considers his obligation, and he’ll be happy tolet partners keep the handkerchief afterwards; he’s a gentleman, after all.As a result, Nevra is on first-name basis with city tailors, mercers, andlaunderers from all the silk handkerchiefs he orders and washes—in bulk– everyfew months. Which he then keeps folded in one drawer of his bedside table. Forconvenient access.

Contrary to expectations, Nevra is automatically turned-offif partners tease him by flaunting fresh papercuts and knife-nicks, evenaccidental. In his book, it’s a crass way to snag his attention (not to mentionidiotic, from the infections they’re risking), so he’ll at most lecture themand bandage those cuts straightaway. Part of the allure in blood lies in itsmystery after all, flowing secret under the skin until he makes the firstpierce. He’s a bloodthirsty beast only some nights in the bedroom, thank you.

How does he behave if drinking from theGuardian for the first time? (Headcanon)

For all hisjokes, Nevra is very aware that this is a gesture of trust, especiallyfrom a non-vampire and a novice who isn’t fully familiar with the practice. Sohe makes a point to be reassuring, aiming to keep the experience comfortable,sensual, and enjoyable for both parties (even if he’s the only one who’ll befeeding). Because if he likes them enough… he’ll want them to return to offerhim a ‘second serving’.  

A privatelocation is really all he needs because this is the closest thing to aquickie that he can offer. But if there’s someone he’s looking to impress,he’ll take them straight to his room (prepped beforehand) where they can both befully comfortable, and he’ll be able to wash clean the bites. And where they’ll be free to indulge themselves a little more, if there’s time…

As with allpartners, he is very sensual whenfeeding, clasping the Guardian full against him and letting his hands wander. Teasingtheir skin first with kisses that grow increasingly less chaste, warming up hispartner in his arms while he tests out the best places to make an ideal bite. Fora first-timer, he’ll double this ‘warm up’ period until he’s absolutely surethat his partner is comfortable. And as turned-on as he is.

Just like anydentist, surgeon, or physician armed with a needle, Nevra never warns partnerswhen it’s actually time for him to make that bite: anticipation will only makethem anxious (and kill the mood). So the Guardian will still be lolling aroundin his arms and under the prints of his mouth, oblivious to what’s happening, until they suddenly feel that warm welling of their blood right where his mouthis fused determinedly against their skin. And when they freeze up, he’ll workto reassure them with his hands, his embrace, the pressure of his lips, and oneor two tactical noises of satisfaction, encouraging them (wordlessly) to relaxand enjoy the feel of his body against theirs. And not think too hard aboutthis moment.

For thisoccasion, he’ll keep the feeding light and neat, drinking from wrist or neckonly. After he staunches the bleeding with his ever-ready handkerchief, he’llpress a teasing kiss against the fabric right where his bite is, determined tomake the Guardian blush. And he’ll insist that they ‘hold onto thehandkerchief’, to not worry about returning it to him; it’s a standard gestureof magnanimity on his part, but for a first-timer, it’s also a way to give thema memento of this moment. To let them mull over what they did enjoy, andhopefully, return to him for a reprise…

If theGuardian is particularly concerned, he’ll oblige to answer what questions they have about health and sanitary concerns… as well as rumors they mighthave heard about vampires. But frankly, only the last part is fun for Nevra;giving medical explanations is always a tedious chore for him, so what answershe does offer are kept simple and reassuring. All they really need to know isthat he knows what he’s doing; they can trust him. He’s been doing this fora long while.

How does he treat longtime partners whom hedrinks from? (Headcanon)

Although infamousknown for biting casually, Nevra will restrict himself to drinking only fromhis partner if seriously involved with them. Feeding from others at this pointis akin to getting frisky with them, and thus putting one foot on the line ofinfidelity. For all his bad jokes and playboy reputation, Nevra’spartner is his very first preference for sharing such an intimate moment. Andif they’re really not in the mood to be nibbled at, he feels put-out.

They’ll start receiving naughty gifts… and not the expected type either. He’ll buythem scarves. Ascots. Satin opera gloves. Plus a healthy supply of dark silkhandkerchiefs for them to keep in their room, chokers and thigh garters made ofsatin or black lace, and velvet wrist corsages each pinned with a singleblood-red rose. All to cover up the bite-marks he left on their skin as theyheal… and remind him pleasantly of ‘what he did’ at their last encounterwhenever he sees them. When they’re alone, Nevra likes to slip these tacticalgifts an inch or two lower just to peek at, stroke, or kiss the marks he left behindthe other night. What a horny bastard.

He’ll be more open to gentle, affectionate blood-feedings.And if he’s having a rotten day, and his partner is the one who offers him a drink,his mood is guaranteed to shoot up by several notches. For once, he won’t dropsly suggestions to continue to the bedroom immediately, instead being perfectlyhappy to cuddle or spoon them in silence wherever they are. A blood-feeding maybe a sexually-charged gesture, but it can become an act of solace and caring ifoffered by a partner he trusts. One he won’t forget for a while.

He certainly won’t say no to his partner bitinghim back, even if their teeth are flatter and can’t (or won’t) pierce his skin; it’s the sensation that counts. And he himself is very sensitive around the crook of his neck. Still, Nevra prefersto do most of the biting—to draw blood or simply to tease. He has the right teeth, and knows how to be the boss use them for maximal mutual pleasure. 

For a darker take on how Nevra might react to blood spilled on the battlefield, check out this pure headcanon.