#at least zander is wearing more clothes than they are

[carrotcouple]

I think Tumblr might have completely shot the quality.

Anyways, say hello the protagonists' group for "The Ashen Magus". This took me two years to finish. not because it was hard, but because I kept putting it off. From left to right, Ilana - The Guardian, Chou - Magus of the Ocean, Yura Corcrain, Zoe and Zander - The Silver Twins, Princess Ebony Rubina Nijik, Jasper - The Eighth General, and Taher of the Sun.

Quick recap to anyone who knew anything about my ocs already and have somewhat forgotten. For those who don't know anything this is for you too, but I promise I am considering character sheets to make everyone's lives easier.

Ilana is a Dura and survivor of the First Battle of Makena where she was forced to kill her father and then go on the run so that the antagonists could not rise up to power again.

Chou is considered the guardian of the Stygian bloodline (which Ebony and the antagonists belong to). She chose to serve Ebony above the antagonists, Vlad and Hypatia. Chou is a mix of many different races, but the one that ended up being prominent was human, as a result, she is a Water Mage.

Yura Corcrain only makes an appearance halfway into the story so anyone who was avidly following my ocs before my tumblr hiatus actually has no knowledge of her. She is Violet's identical twin (who some might remember).

Zoe and Zander are the protagonists of the story. They're both twins and Zoe is an Air Mage and Zander is *looks around and then whispers furiously* his magic is a secret for plot reasons. Those of you who remember and know, well...that's only for you to know. They're the youngest people in this piece....teenagers....

Princess Ebony Rubina Nijik is Vlad and Hypatia's distant niece. She's the only remaining survivor of her immediate family and she was in hiding for decades before the plot starts. She is a Plant Mage. She's also YES. the shortest. Zander makes fun of her for it. She stabs him for it.

Jasper - The Eighth General, is a Prince of Yaqut who ended up serving as a general to the army that was brought together for the sole purpose of ending Vlad and Hypatia's reign. He is the youngest and last general of the army. He's a Metal Mage (which sounds really weird actually).

And lastly, Taher of the Sun is one of the Fire Folk. He served as one of Queen Hypatia's closest confidants. However during the First Battle of Makena, for some unknown reason he betrayed her. Now he works with Chou primarily.

[spookyboywhump]

Overheating

Alright so I really wanted to write smth with This so thank you @unicornscotty <3

I know it’s the fourth but I really wanted to participate in the @summer-of-whump event but I didn’t have the time until today so technically this is also for the day one prompt “overheating” (fun fact: originally I had a piece with Wren planned for this)

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, locked outside, emeto mention, drowning mention, heat exhaustion

***

He woke up when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and dragged off his bed, roughly pushed to the floor. He was disoriented, squinting up at Cain from where he laid. His owner looked irritated, apparently still upset over the fight Zander lost the night before. He should’ve been expecting this, seeing as Cain hadn’t punished him immediately after getting home.

“Fucking hell… good morning to you too.” He muttered sarcastically, while Cain jabbed him in the side with the tip of his shoe, Zander wincing as he dug into one of the bruises.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Zander sighed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He was too exhausted, too sore to fight with him. He figured he may as well just accept his punishment and get it over with. “Hands behind your back.”

“Sure thing, officer.” He snickered, doing as he was told though, only for Cain to quickly cuff his wrists together. Zander followed him from the room, mentally preparing himself for a beating, a whipping, caning, drowning, anything like that, but instead, Cain led him out back.

Now that he was outside he realized it was early in the morning, around the time Cain usually left for work. He sighed heavily, realizing that it was going to be another day locked outside, but instead of dragging him out into the yard, he was made to kneel on part of the patio- specifically, the part that wasn’t covered. Cain had clearly already prepared this punishment, a chain locked around one of the nearest posts, which was grabbed and clipped to his collar. It was just long enough that he could lean forward, but he couldn’t have moved from that spot, even trying to move into the shade was impossible for him.

“You’ll spend today out here. If I’m in a better mood, I might let you in when I get home.” He said, and Zander jerked away when he tried to ruffle his hair. Cain started to head inside after that, pausing to add, “Oh, and by the way mutt- I’m working late today.” He said, Zander glaring when he flashed a smile at him before heading inside, the doors slamming shut and locking behind him.

Zander tried to tell himself this wasn’t that bad. He’d been left outside before, sometimes for days at a time, he could handle it. He wasn’t happy, but he could handle it, in fact, he considered it better than a beating. He was bored, of course, but by now he was used to boredom. He didn’t think it would be a problem at all, but as time passed and the day went on, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

It was the middle of summer, and while it wasn’t so bad early in the morning, the temperature continued to climb higher and higher. He was used to being tied in the yard, on the cool grass, with a chain long enough he could move into the shade of the trees. He was trapped here though, the sun beating down on him as he knelt on hot concrete. He regretted falling asleep wearing shorts, even if it would’ve been hotter at least pants would’ve provided some protection from the burning heat that had him constantly shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t normally hate the heat very much. He was used to it, he used to enjoy being out on a sweltering day, but back then he’d usually end up at a friend’s pool or down at the lake, anything to cool off. He would’ve killed for even a drop of cold water, done anything to be submerged in it. His hair and his clothes stuck to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, the back of his neck, he couldn’t even really wipe it away thanks to his hands being restrained. He winced as sweat stung open scratches from the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a slow, deep breath.

He could handle discomfort. He was always uncomfortable. Hours went by and discomfort had given way to sickness though, somehow nauseous despite the fact he hadn’t even gotten to eat that day. He was doubled over as much as he could, trying to ignore the stomach pain and the sick feeling, but it was difficult when there was nothing else he could focus on.

“Fucking Cain.” He muttered to himself, attempting to talk himself through this. “Fuck him, fucking idiot. Can’t fucking believe this…” He winced, his stomach in knots at this point. “It’s fine… it’s just the sun… fuck, if I get a sunburn I’m gonna be pissed… I hope his stupid ass gets a sunburn, pale fucking vampire looking-“ He was forcibly cut off, dry heaving as the nausea got worse and worse.

By late in the afternoon he felt weak, even more exhausted than he had been that morning. His legs hurt, there was no position that was comfortable as the concrete burned his feet and legs. He hated to admit how much he cried, when he finally couldn’t take it any longer, but he couldn’t even cry for long, as though he were too dehydrated to manage even that. He kept his eyes shut as much as he could, his head was pounding and the bright sunlight wasn’t helping at all.

By the time the back doors opened again, Zander was blinking in and out of consciousness. It was sometime in the evening by then, but it was still warm out, too warm for Zander after enduring the whole day like that. He didn’t actually recognize that Cain was back until he was standing directly in front of him- something held in his hands too.

��Hey, you look like shit.” He snickered, and Zander couldn’t do much more than attempt to glare at him. He didn’t even want to know how he looked right now, likely drenched in sweat, red in his already bruised face. He was taking slow, deep breaths, he’d been fighting against the urge to vomit all day. He set down something in front of him, a bright red dog bowl, which was filled with water. “Go ahead boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty.” He told him, and it took Zander a moment to realize what he was saying.

Am I really this fucking desperate?

His mouth was so dry it was difficult for him to swallow. His throat hurt, he was hardly even capable of keeping himself awake right now, so exhausted and dizzy he couldn’t even really think straight. He hadn’t had anything to drink that day, and no matter the circumstances, this was water being offered right in front of him.

Fucking whatever, dignity be damned.

He abruptly lurched forward, desperate for it after all this time, only to gag as the chain stopped him, only inches from the water but just out of reach. He whined pathetically, he pulled against the chain despite the fact he couldn’t breath and it was showing no signs in breaking, but there was nothing he could do except sit there, and listen to Cain laugh- something that very, very quickly set him off.

“Fucking Bastard- really?!” He shouted. “Fuck you! Fucking let me go!” He growled, using all his energy just to yell at cain. “Stop fucking laughing, it’s not fucking funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious!” Cain laughed. “You’re such a desperate son of a bitch, huh? Would you really drink from a bowl like the dog you fucking are?”

“I would if you weren’t such an asshole! I don’t give a shit, just give me something!” He cried, just short of begging him. Cain was still laughing, but he nudged the bowl closer to him and Zander really did disregard any desire he’d had to avoid this, doing his best to drink from the bowl without his hands. The humiliation was absolutely nothing compared to the relief he felt, he’d never tasted anything better than that water tasted now. He drank as much as he could, as fast as he could to avoid having it taken away, but eventually Cain did take the bowl from him, then he unclipped the chain from his collar.

He tried to get up but he only just now realized how weak he was, collapsing almost immediately. Cain had to actually help him back into the house, his legs were trembling violently and he swore the room was moving side to side. Cain made a face since he was close enough to smell him after a day of sweating under the summer sun, if anything Zander counted that as some sort of victory on his end. He didn’t seem to realize anything was actually wrong with him though, he was dragged to his room and shoved to the floor, where he laid as he was locked into that cell again.

It took a long time for him to move. He couldn’t walk, he had to drag himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower to cold water, his hands shaking as he peeled his clothes off, sitting on the shower floor and breathing a sigh of relief as the cold water poured over him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, and he winced as the water hit the fresh burns on his legs, worse than he thought they would be. He wasn’t even sure if he had anything in his supplies meant for burns, but he figured he could work with what he had, he’d always done so before.

He didn’t expect to pass out in the shower. One moment he was tiredly looking at the back of his hand, at his bruised knuckles, and the next he was waking up slumped against the wall, cold and shivering now that he’d been in there long enough. He didn’t know how long that had actually been, but he finally was able to turn the water off and struggle to his feet, able to keep himself upright long enough to dry off and get dressed. He wanted to go pass out in his bed but just the thought of the mattress and the blanket made him feel hot, he wasn’t entirely thinking straight when he laid down on the bathroom floor, but he found he didn’t regret it one bit, finding relief in the cool tiles against his skin.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly, his thoughts still clouded with confusion, but he knew one thing for certain- With how angry he had been over his little “joke”, Cain was lucky Zander had been restrained.

[radioactive-synth]

WIP SUNDAY:

tagged a long time ago by @aviatorfics thanks!

taggin: @theartofblossoming , @the-laridian , @portergage , @just-another-wasteland-merc , and whoever wants to do it!

little something as i started to replay FO1...im not intending to write a whole novel for my Vault Dweller, but my mind is kinda set on this little ancient game <3

She cannot lie, she was scared, but in the same time, fascinated. All her life she knew, it was cold metal, yet the artificial warmth was never missing. Recirculated air and recycled water, never missing. And food grown from the laboratory, and only on special occasions, the stash that was given by the long gone ancestors was opened, serving pork and beans, sugar bombs, canned meat and even boiled chicken eggs preserved in boxes.

But now? She seen crops that she never seen before, yet they taste the same as the one in the Vault. People who wear other clothes than the same boring, but comforting blue vault suit, with the number branded on the back. And people who reuse the junk left by ancestors in different ways, either building walls to protect their cities, or redone as weapons.

But nothing could had compare to the feeling of the rays from the Sun on her face, when she got out the cave.

more under the cut CAUSE I DIDNT EXPECTED TO WRITE THAT LONG

Noné Smith had received coordinates for the Hub, where there could be more chances to find what she needs. Or at least, to buy some fresh water for the Vault. She doesn’t have much... caps on her, but she is not afraid to get her hands dirty. All she hopes is that she doesn’t need to kill another human being...

She felt her legs giving out any time, but she pushed further. As she could see from afar, another city seems to arise. She stops a bit, looking through her backpack and retrieve her pip-boy. The machine shows a location, but she cannot make it much. She closes the screen and puts it back.

She felt pain struck her left leg. That damn oversized scorpion managed to pinch her with its claw, but she was determined to take them all out. Only when she got back to Shady Sands, she noticed the blood soaking her vault suit. She received help and shelter for a few days, until she healed enough to move again. But the doctor warned her to take breaks in her travels.

But where to take a break in this wasteland? she wondered. Only dead trees, junks that were once transportation machines, and... bones she hoped that were of animal origins. She took another few steps, and felt her leg give out. She groans in pain, and limped to the nearest pile of metal. Not much of a shelter, but her back can be protected. 

She put her backpack besides her, her gun loaded, and let her back rest against the cold metal. She had thought to use a stimpack, but she only has two left. Only in emergencies....

__________________

‘’Tis the way, to Hub. Told ya I will get you there!’ the raspy voice echoed through the valley.

‘Sure, sure, just alert any other scorpions and rats, while you are at it!’ another coarse voice warned them.

She just glances at them, but paid them no mind, as she pulls the robe from a brahmin, to make her move faster. They have been on the road for days. Or weeks. Libby no longer had kept count of the days, or the years, ever since her face changed, just like how it happened to the other three... colleagues? Friends? 

She cannot really decide how to call them. They were the only ones who didn’t shot her on sight, decades ago. One of the men is a veteran, who has his theories on who launched the bombs first, but is an excellent fighter, the other man was a teacher, who has good survival and communication skills, and the other person, another woman, who was a tailor, and still can create clothes from almost anything. And about her? Her knowledge of pharmaceutical products made her fit for fullfilling the role of the medic/chemist of the group. She always thinks she is not a medic, like her son... is... but she had helped and saved the lives of other people on many occasions.

She looks through her jacket, and pulls out one of her salvaged photography. The one that depicts her son, Vaughn Aleksandros Zander, and her nephew, Vincent Nathaniel Hudson. The boys she raised and loved them a lot. One of them was long gone even before the bombs, went down as a hero, in the war. The other one... she still thinks he is still alive, in the Vault, or at least her grandson Shaun had also survived and thrives now. She gently runs her thumb over the photography, before putting it back in her jacket.

Libby then looks over, but the road seems clear, except for some dead trees and burned carcasses of the cars. But then her attention is drawn to something else. Or someone...

‘Hey, think there’s someone at that truck.’ she calls for attention at her group.

The other three looked where she pointed out.

‘Huh, another corpse fresh from the Vault-Tec.’

‘Pretty sure it ain’t dead.’

‘Not for long. Now come on, the Hub is over there. Y’all better cover up yer mugs, or get again shot at.’

‘And you really will leave them out there?’ Libby asked, her tone a bit firm.

‘Libby, don’t fuckin’ do it again! We can’t help any stray out there!’

‘That “stray” is also a human, like us.’

‘Then it better use your face as practice shooting!’

‘Go fuck yourself. I catch you up later.’ Libby said, and went to the truck’s direction.

She figured it out that the... vaultie is not dead, but she noticed their stained suit. They seemed to rest, as they had their head on their knees.

‘Hey. Are you alright? Do you need help, darling?’ she said in her usual motherly tone.

___________________

She stirred from her sleep, feeling her back stiff. She heard the coarse, but very gentle voice. As she could sworn she heard her grandmother talking. But.. she was long gone.

‘Huh? What? Hey, I don’t want trouble!’ Noné said, looking up. But before her, there stands a person that seemed to be a burnt victim, yet she has a very unusual warm smile. She yelps a bit, and gets up, pointing her gun to the intruder. ‘What the fuck? Are you a zombie? Get out!’ her voice is trembling, as her finger on the trigger.

She heard the... person sighing, and sees that they raise their hands a bit.

‘Look, darling, I know I look repulsive, but I don’t mean any harm. I seen you there, and thought you need help.’

‘Wh-why? What? What are you? You look horrible! Why you don’t have your nose?’

The person shakes their head. 

‘Darling, I’m your first ghoul, right?’

The look on her face had gave the stranger the answer they expected.

[asarahworld-writes]

all i want

Prompt: Be careful what you wish for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S

If she hadn’t had white hair, if monsters didn’t exist, if the moonstone had never fallen to Earth, if she wasn’t a freak dating a zombie…

 “-then maybe you would have the picture perfect lives you want. I wish you could just be happy!” Addison yelled, turning away from her parents and swiping angrily at her watery eyes.  What she needed right now was to get away, to be with Zed, but she knew that leaving at this hour would only make things worse.  She looked at her watch, sighing with exhaustion. She’d see him in about five hours anyway.

 Five hours spent restlessly trying to sleep, scrolling mindlessly on her phone, pacing her room, staring out her window at the full moon as the sky lightened – purples turned pink then orange as the sun rose, bathing the world in daylight.  Six am. Addison got up, shivering as the covers fell away.  She looked down in surprise… she didn’t remember changing into pajamas last night. She looked to see where her clothes from the previous day were...nowhere.  The laundry hamper was filled with monochromatic pastels she hadn’t worn in a month.

 She shook her head and rubbed her eyes.  Shower first, figure this out after.

 Addison let the water flow over her entire body, soaking in the warmth.  She massaged the shampoo into her scalp, rinsed.  She applied conditioner to the ends of her hair, easily combing through its mid-length strands.  She frowned, looking at the hair twined through her fingers.  Blonde.  The exact same shade as her wig.  The same length.  Even the same texture.  Odd…

 She watched the water run clean into the drain and shut it off. Even if she didn’t wear it in public any more, her parents would still be seriously pissed if they found out that she’d ruined her wig by wearing it in the shower.  Maybe it was salvageable.  She reached up to take it off and frowned when she felt herself grab her own hair.  She reached again and again, somehow, managed to miss the wig.  Addison stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her body as to not drip all over the floor, and walked over to the mirror.  It had fogged during her shower and she rubbed at it with the hand towel.  Blonde. The wig still wouldn’t come off. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, so familiar and yet so strange.  She pulled sharply at the blonde hair and winced in pain.

 Addison reached out as if to touch her reflection, watching as it mimicked her perfectly.  She looked into her own blue eyes, her brown brows, every feature she knew so well and then back to the foreign yet familiar blonde hair.

 There was a soft tap at the door.

 “Addison, dear, you don’t want to be late for school.”

 Dear?  Her parents might use informal pet names for each other, but never with her.

 “Yes, Mom.”  She pulled the blonde hair into a bow at the back of her head, picked up her bag and headed for the kitchen where a bowl of fruit was waiting for her.  She ate without really tasting the food, grabbed her lunch money, and started walking.

 Real blonde hair.  Her clothes gone.  Her parents were suddenly much more affectionate.  Addison was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice arriving at school or even opening her locker.  Focus, Addy.  She grabbed her books for first period and looked at her watch.  She’d must have walked faster than usual, class wouldn’t start for fifteen minutes.  However, Zed was usually at the school early, hanging out with the guys or studying/chilling in the safe room.

 She opened the safe room door and called his name.  “Are you here yet?”  Her voice echoed in the empty room and she turned to leave.  The door sealed and she walked down the hall, alone, not noticing that the room wasn’t what she remembered.

 Students filled the hallway and Addison’s heart skipped as her eyes landed on the tall, lanky football star that was her boyfriend. She easily made her way through the crowd, using her short stature to her advantage to get around the other students.

 “Zed,” her voice cracked slightly, betraying her stress, and she froze, looking him over.

 “Um, can I help you?  I really don’t have time for autographs right now, but if you come back during free period I can hook you up.”  With that, he started to push past her.

 Without thinking, Addison grabbed his hand.

 He whipped around, easily breaking her hold.

 “Zed,” Addison looked him over, taking in the pink skin, dark hair, pastels.  “What did you do?”  Her brow furrowed in concern, her hand reaching out to touch his rosy face.

 “Okay, why are you trying to touch me?  Football stars are people too.  Personal space much?”  With that, Zed finally looked down at her, meeting her eyes.  The dark circles perpetually under his eyes were gone, his face was full of colour, his skin even felt warmer.  “Addison.  I thought I told you not to do that in front of people.  You know the deal.  Date the football star, get a bit of the spotlight.”

 “Zed, what are you talking about?  I thought we didn’t care what people thought, remember?  And I thought you were never going to mess with your Z-band again.  What did you do?”  She looked at him, black hair without the slightest tinge of green, skin that didn’t look like he was half-dead, and wearing perfect Seabrook colours.

 “I haven’t done anything I’ve never done before.  But if you’re looking for something different, find yourself a new boyfriend.  I won’t have any trouble replacing you.”

 Addison looked down, not wanting to let this… this person see her cry.  “Where’s your Z-band?”  Addison looked back up to Zed’s face, back to his empty wrist.  She reached for him again, looking for any hint that he was about to lose control.  There was none.  In fact, he still looked far too human.

 “What’s a Z-band?”  He scoffed.

 Addison felt her eyes well with tears and turned to leave, planning on finding Bree, when he caught her arm.

 “If I let you leave like that, it’ll give people the wrong impression.  Let’s go chill in the supply closet for a few minutes.”  Not-Zed, still holding her arm, led her to the Safe Room.  Or at least, what should have been the Safe Room. Instead of bunk beds and rations, the room was filled with cleaning supplies and a small first aid station.

 Addison took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. “This isn’t right,” she whispered.

 “Really?  No shit it’s not right.  I should be out there with the guys, not stuck in a closet with a mopey girlfriend. I thought you were supposed to be a cheerleader.”

 “Zed,” Addison’s voice cracked, unable to look at the humanized person in front of her.  ���This isn’t right.  This isn’t who we are.  This isn’t who you’re supposed to be, something’s happened, something horribly wrong.  But nobody seems to notice…” she couldn’t finish her thought.

 “Notice what?”  He was leaning against the doorframe, tall and dark, and…slightly intimidating.  Who would have thought that Zed would have made a scarier human than monster.

 “Everything’s changed,” she whispered brokenly. Not-Zed said nothing.  “When I woke up this morning, my hair looked like this,” she held it up limply, “all blonde like my old wig.  My parents…it was like something out of a movie.  I come to school early and you’re this…this isn’t you, Zed, not at all.”  She wiped the tears from her eyes before they could fall and continued.  “No matter how much it hurts, my parents are ashamed of me. My hair is an unnatural white color and until now I’ve always worn a wig to keep it hidden.  You’re still the star of the football team, but you’re not human, you’re a zombie.  You… gar-garziga, Zed.  The real Zed.”

 The real Zed, the real Seabrook, her real parents, she just wanted everything to return to normal.  This version of Zed, who apparently was tired of Addison being a clingy and vapid bitch, listened as everything poured out.  The accident at Seabrook Power, the creation of zombies, their first meeting, football, the cheer championships.

 “And all that just ‘changed’ this morning?”  Not-Zed scoffed.  “Things don’t just change overnight because you say ‘I wish’, Addison.  Not even for a cheerleader.”

 “But they did,” Addison whispered, broken.  “This isn’t right, any of it.  This isn’t who we are.”

 “So how did it happen?  I told these floozies I wish you’d just leave me alone, several times a day, and yet that never happens.”

 Whether not-Zed actually cared to know or not was irrelevant. “It was about one a.m.  I had a huge fight with my parents.  I said a bunch of things I knew they hated about me and said that maybe if none of them existed, that they could be happy.  If I had normal hair.  If monsters didn’t exist in this town.  Stuff I said in the heat of the moment.  And somehow, it all came true the next morning.”

 “In your version of the world, monsters exist?”  Not-Zed said incredulously.  “And I’m one of them.”

 “Yeah.”

 They were both quiet for a moment.

 “In your world…Zoey was at the cheer championships last year.” Not-Zed finally looked at her, his eyes hard.  Addison nodded, swallowing hard.

 “She started how monsters finally became accepted in Seabrook. There was only half a squad left and they were falling apart.  Zoey went on stage and started cheering herself.”  Addison smiled at the memory.  “Most of the zombies in attendance joined us onstage and we might not have won the championship for the first time in fifty years, but we were united.”

 Not-Zed didn’t say anything for a long time.  He lifted his head and said hoarsely: “My sister died when she was born, with my mother.  I’ve never told anybody about her before…her name was Zoey.”

 “Zoey is the little sister I never had.  She wants to be a cheerleader more than anything and she loves dogs.  She had a stuffed dog called Zander and at the end of last year, I got her a real dog. A small dog with long white fur she named Puppy.”

 “I don’t know how you found out about Zoey, but this is the dumbest prank anybody’s ever pulled.  Who set you up?”

 “No,” Addison said brokenly.  “Zed, I’m not making any of this up, I swear.  I know Zoey, I love her like she was my own sister.  Monsters are real in Seabrook.  They’re zombies, you’re a zombie.  And we’re… gar-garziga, Zedka.”

 Addison’s heart shattered when he spoke again.

 “Is that gibberish supposed to mean something to me?  We’re through, Addison.”  The finality of his statement hit her in a wave of emotions as he left the closet.

 Addison left school early, telling the nurse she’d gotten her period and felt nauseous.  The nurse agreed to send her home, noting that the walk might do her some good in relieving the symptoms.  Unfortunately, the walk back passed quickly and she was home.

 She let herself in and practically collapsed against the door.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Two

Table of Content or Part Forty-One

Read here on Wattpad

Words: 3.6k

Warning(s): Explicit language, explicit sexual situations, miscarriage

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I had miscarried a week before the four month mark, and despite the large amount of stress I was under, I was told my body showed signs of preparing to discard the pregnancy, anyway, and it was estimated there hadn't been a heartbeat for almost a week prior.

I planned on telling Nikki before my stomach grew to an obvious size, but I managed to keep it under the radar and it just looked like I was gaining some weight.

Andy had taken me, in and out at consciousness, to the hospital after Nikki's blue color started to miraculously subside and he decided it was better to keep the freshly overdosed heroin junkie away from anyone who could notify authorities.

A D&C was performed, I was given hospital-issued pajama pants since I wasnt wearing any, told not to use tampons, insert anything into my vagina or have sex for two weeks, and I was sent on my way.

"I-I heard the nurse say something about a failed pregnancy." Andy tells me, hesitantly, as we head back to the apartment to see if Nikki's still there.

"They thought it might have been one, but I told them I wasn't pregnant and they decided it was a serious spell of period cramping." I reply.

"You don't fucking pass out from a period cramp, Vivian."

"I passed out because I was in shock from Nikki being blue." I argue.

"That was a lot of blood to be--"

"Andy, until you have a uterus that sheds once a month, you don't get to make the rules as to what's a normal amount of period blood and what isn't." I cut him short and he sighs out.

"Got it, Viv."

When we get back to the apartment, it's empty.

The Rat is gone, and Nikki's gone.

"Do you think he's back at the hotel?" Andy asks me and I pray in my mind he is.

"Maybe he is." I tell him.

I have to give it to Andy, he managed to get Nikki breathing again while simultaneously trying to get me to regain consciousness...all while on heroin himself.

Vince killed his drummer, and he still saved Vince's bassist.

I get back to the hotel, Doc interrogating the front desk, demanding to know where I went and if she's seen me recently.

"Doc, chill out." I tell him, rubbing my eyes and he sees me and relief washes over him.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" He shouts at me. "I was about to call the cops, Vivian!"

"I know, I'm sorry, I just had to go to the doctor for lady issues." I tell him and he looks at me like I've lost my mind, looks at Andy and throws his hands up.

"All you kids are fucking impossible, holy shit!" He calls out, stepping to the elevator.

I turn to Andy, smiling tiredly up at him.

"Thank you for helping Nikki." I tell him.

"I'd do it ten times over, Viv." He replies.

I try my hardest to memorize him, snapping a mental picture of his soft smile, his liner smudged eyes, his clothes...preparing for this being the last time I ever see him, because at the rate he's going, he'll be dead in a couple years.

Tears blur my vision, but never break over my lashes, and I hug him to me.

"Take care of yourself." I tell him calmly. "Please."

"Oh, I'll be fine." He replies, squeezing me back.

When we pull away, his hands hold at either side of my face.

"Keep your head clear." He tells me one last time and I nod.

To this day I still hear him in my mind when I'm overwhelmed.

"Keep your head clear."

I get up to the room to pack, thinking of what the hell to say to Nikki.

He's getting out of the shower when I get in, bruises covering him from where he was hit with the bat, and his chest is bruised from CPR.

I decide not to say anything, ignoring him when he tries to talk to me.

"Baby." He states, realizing I'm purposely ignoring him.

I just fold my dirty clothes up and put them in my bag.

"Vivian." He tries again. "I really don't need you to be pissed at me about this, Viv."

Again, I don't say a word.

I try to head to the bathroom before he's grabbing at my arm, stopping me.

"I over did it, I know I did. I'm sorry, alright? Just please talk to me."

"I'm going back home." I tell him and he looks shocked before his face suddenly scrunches up.

"What?"

"I am going back to L.A." I repeat.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not hanging around to see you pick up where you left off before you nearly died, Nikki, and I know that the second we get to the next city, you'll be pinpointing a dealer as soon as possible." I state.

"I--Viv, I made a mistake, I understand that I made a bad call." He tries to reason with me before snatching my shirt out of my hand before I can pack it. "Will you listen to me?"

"Why? You never listen to me." I hiss at him and his eyes glass over in tears.

Instead of yelling at me, or arguing, he puts my shirt in my bag for me, and helps me pack the rest of my stuff before he gets dressed and gets his own stuff together. "I just want to go home." I finally tell him, feeling a little guilty for being mean to him after what happened to him.

"I know." He says lowly, sitting next to me on the bed. "I just don't want you to."

"I'll only be a phone call away, and the tour will be over in less than a month and you'll be back in no time." I point out.

"Yeah, I guess." He replies.

"Just, please, be careful." I plead, grabbing his hand.

He looks at me and nods a little.

"I will, Viv. I promise." He assures me.

It was bullshit. Two days after that, he was hanging out with Tommy, Rodger Taylor and Robin Zander, at dinner and when lines of power rails of coke were offered to them, Nikki snorted all of it on his own.

But I wasn't worried about Nikki. I prayed for him before I left London and that was that.

I bombard Steven when I see him by Duff's car in the parking lot, wrapping my arms around him tightly, nearly crying tears of joy.

"Have you gotten taller?" I tease, ruffling his fluffy blonde hair.

"Nah, maybe you're getting shorter." He replies as I put my bag in the trunk.

"Short-stop." I shoot at him.

"Firecrotch." He replies without missing a beat and I can't help but laugh.

"You've been hanging around Izzy too much." I point out, getting into the car.

When we get to their apartment, I set my bag on floor by the door and look around at the shithole it is.

"The guys are out, I'm about to go see if I can find 'em if you wanna come." Stevie offers.

I shake my head a little, already knowing how I want to spend my night.

"No, thank you, just wanna shower and get settled." I explain, and he nods.

"You're gonna have to air dry because we don't have towels, and we don't have hot water." He adds. "Also, pee in the shower if you gotta pee because we don't have a toilet anymore."

"What about if I need to do the other?" I ask him and he rubs his lips together.

"We usually just do that in our friend's apartment down the hall. Apartment 205." He informs me and I raise my brows but don't say a word.

"Got it." I reply.

"Alright, well, I'm out." He tells me.

"Okay, see you later tonight." I reply, shutting the door behind him.

I turn to face the mess that is their apartment and I take a breath and get started.

I'm just getting out of the shower by the time I hear the front door open and close, and I hold my arms over my chest and peak my head out of the bathroom, seeing Duff's lanky frame in the kitchen, the only light is from the small lamp on the floor in the living room.

"Hey." I tell him, and he turns around, brows raised.

"Oh, shit, hey." He chuckles off his startledness. "Are you done with your shower?" He asks and I nod.

He's stepping to me, his hand holding out a cheap towel.

"Steven said you were crashing here tonight so I went and got some things...I knew you'd appreciate a towel." He tells me and I chuckle, grateful for his consideration as I step back into the bathroom to wrap up in the towel and step back out to my bag to get pajamas. "I got some shitty sheets for that mattress." He motions to the one bedroom. "And a blanket because we don't have any."

"How do you guys stay warm then?" I ask and he shrugs.

"We usually go home with girls who have blankets." He chuckles and I shake my head a little. "At least they do. Anymore I come back and crash here." He adds. "Also, thank you for cleaning." He notices the much more organized and clean apartment I'd been working on ever since Steven left three hours ago. "Which brings me to my last purchase I know you would need." He puts a can of disinfectant spray on the counter next to the blanket and sheets and I can't hold back to laugh that comes when I see it. "I suggest using the whole can."

"I'm planning on it don't worry." I chuckle as he takes can of spray and the sheets into the bedroom.

I'm assuming to spray down the mattress and put the sheets on.

I dry off and towel dry my hair before slipping on a pair of pajama shorts and a Crüe band tshirt.

Once I'm done in the bathroom, I see Duff sitting on the couch with his bass and I sit beside him as he goofs off with it for a couple minutes before I point to a note his finger is on.

"What's that?" I ask him, curiously.

"J." He tells me and I furrow my brows a little.

"There's a 'J' note on bass?" I ask and he nods, his expression serious for a moment before he cracks into a smile. "Duff, I'm serious." I push at his shoulder lightly and he chuckles.

"I don't know what note it is." He tells me.

"Bullcrap." I state.

"I'm being serious. I don't know a single name of any of the notes."

"You play by ear?!"

"Yep."

"Why?!"

"I just wanted to play bass. I didn't want to learn it step by step. It's obviously working out for me the way I do it now, so." He shrugs. "Is that not what Nikki does?"

"Yeah...but he's Nikki I don't expect him to know all of it. He sticks to the same template of decently easy notes in every song anyway because he's too fucked up to remember anything elaborate." I tell him and he chokes a little, looking at me.

"That's mean." He points at me.

I think about it for a second and sigh out.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just tired and moody I guess." I mumble, running a hand through my hair.

"Do you need to go to bed?" He asks me.

"Probably." I admit, seeing it's 1:17am on their crooked wall clock, standing up and stretching.

I look towards the bedroom, then to Duff and back to the bedroom before sitting back down.

"What is it?" He asks me.

"I'll just chill here with you for a few more minutes." I tell him.

"Okay."

I lay down, my legs curling to my chest as the top of my head brushes against the side of his thigh, my eyes closing.

I'm probably asleep for another hour before I'm being woken up.

"Viv." Duff slowly shakes me awake and I groan a little, blinking up at him.

"C'mon, I'm helping you to bed." He tells me and I nod sleepily, taking his hands as he helps me up.

I'm half asleep when I fall to the matress on the floor and he chuckles at me grabbing the blanket to cover me up.

"You good?" He asks me after covering me up and I nod. "Okay, I'm crashing on the couch if you need anything."

"Sleep in here." I tell him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up a little.

It's obvious he's thinking really hard about the invitation.

"Please?" I ask. "I don't like sleeping alone."

He thinks about it for a moment longer before getting his boots off, laying down beside me as far away as possible, not even taking his jacket off.

"Goodnight, Viv." He says.

"Goodnight." I barely mumble back.

This is where the very strict "friends" line that separated Duff and I began to slowly blur, and I despised myself for it.

I'm tired, but I can't bring myself to sleep, turning to face Duff.

I wonder if he's asleep.

"Duff?" I whisper.

"Hmm?" He replies.

He's laying on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, the other across his abdomen.

I think about how he kissed me, and how did it like he meant it, openly and honestly, and I freaked out over it.

And why?

Because of Nikki?

I remember the reminiscent feeling I got with Duff, when he made his drunk move, mirrored how I felt when Nikki first made his five years ago.

My eyes go back to the blonde beside me, the temptation to either scare him away or draw him in more is pulling at me strong.

"Take your jacket off." I say to him lowly and he looks at me in the dark of the room, the only sliver of light coming from the neon glowing lights of the strip.

"Viv." He says it like he knows what I'm thinking he's begging me not to because he couldn't possibly resist.

I sit up getting on my knees, pulling my tshirt over my head and discarding it.

"Shit." He mumbles to himself, sighing out as I crawl to him.

All it takes is my leg swinging over his hips to straddle him and he's caving.

He doesn't dare make a move to touch me, probably trying to decide if this is real or not, until I'm pressing my lips against his, moaning softly as my nipples gently rub against the fabric of his clothes.

My hands grab either side of his unzipped jacket, pulling him up to a sitting position, pushing the leather from him, he discards the jacket across the room and my hands run down his arms to his wrists to guide his hands to my hips as I slowly start rocking against his groin as my forehead rests against his, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure sparks through me.

"Fuck, Viv..." he breaths out, finger tips lightly pressing into the flesh of my hips.

Pull up on the bottom of his shirt, leaning into him when it's off, feeling his skin against mine as our lips meet once more before I'm running my tongue along his bottom lip to give him the hint.

His hands move to my ass, guiding the slow, needy movements of the junction of my thighs against the hardness in his pants.

Our tongues tangle together as he moves one of his hands up to run his thumb against my nipple.

I whimper, the ache in my core growing stronger as he gets comfortable and shifts from being shy and acting like he doesn't know what to do, to complete dominance, pushing me onto my back, my hair hanging off the foot of the bed.

He takes his pants off as I pull at my shorts, rubbing my thighs together, looking up at him as he gives me a happy smile, pressing his lips to my ankle, working his way up inch by inch, worshipping me with each caress, each kiss, each move.

He's running his tongue against my clit, eliciting another moan from me, my back arching as my hands fall into his blonde hair.

When he hits a certain spot, I gasp, my eyes nearly watering.

"Right there, please, Duff." I quietly whine out a beg.

He listens, continuing to move his tongue against me, causing me to resort to shallow breaths as pleasure builds.

One of his hands goes to my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers, only encouraging me to grind into his face with his slow, savoring, pace.

I'm coming before realizing it, my toes curling, his name catching in my throat as I arch my back.

He looks like he's about to go back for seconds but I'm sitting up and pulling his lips to mine before taking my hand and wrapping it around his prick.

The thought of it inside of me sends me into overdrive and he groans out as I run my thumb over his tip, my thigh hooking around him as my legs spread, wanting him inside of me.

I fall back on the matress taking him with me as our lips stay locked, and both of his hands are on either side of my head as we break our kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks me. "I mean really sure. I don't want to hurt you, Viv, I--"

I cut him short, giving him reassuring kiss before looking up at him again.

He nods, as if convincing himself to disrespect Nikki and our marriage as he jerks himself off a couple of times before placing his head at my entrance.

He slowly pushes himself in, and by the time he's in as far as my body has room for him to be in, he's grasping the blanket we're on, under his hands, obviously trying to keep his control.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, giving me time to adjust to him.

I don't answer, my hands pushing at his sides to get him to pullout of me, and he thinks I want him off of me, nearly moving completely out of me before I'm wrapping my legs around him, causing him to push back into me.

The feeling forces a loud, wanton, nearly pornish sound from me and he realizes I want him to keep going.

He smiles to me, kissing me again while pulling out and thrusting back into me, gently.

"Duff," I start, breathing out.

"Y-Yeah?" He asks, stopping suddenly.

"I'm not gonna break." I tell him with a shy smile as a subtle hint to screw me into the mattress.

He's chuckling a little, loosening up, before thrusting into me a little faster, rougher, and harder.

"Fuck, Duff!" I can't control myself, my nails screaming against the skin of his back as his length moves inside of me addictively.

He repeatedly hits against my tender cervix, and the thought of him finishing inside of me is fucking crazy but nearly primal.

"You feel so fucking good." He tells me, his cigarettes laced breath adding to the comfort of him pulling pressing his body against mine, taking my lower lip between his teeth.

My fingers curl into his blonde hair, my nipples aggressively move against him with his desperate pace.

"I'm gonna come." I tell him, my eyes closing, my lips slightly opened as tremors course through me.

I cry out so loudly he has to put his hand over my mouth incase any of the guys are home.

Tears roll down my face as he picks up the pace, chasing after his high with my legs locked around him.

"I love you." He tells me, his lips brushing against mine.

"I love you, too." I say back, my hand going between my legs to play with my clit to try have another hit before he finishes.

His hand is moving mine out of the way and rubbing at me far better than I can in my love-high state.

More of my juices flood onto him as my brain fills with more endorphins, my eyes heavy with a floating high.

"I'm about to come." He tells me.

"Come in me." I tell him, hazily, not thinking clearly.

"Viv, I--"

"Please, I wanna feel it, Duff. I wanna feel you." I beg, arching into him, pulling his hips into mine with my thighs.

He doesn't argue, cursing out as streams of his cum pump into me.

He doesn't get off of me until he's finished, the both of us laying in silence as nausea forces it's way through me.

I'm sitting up, throwing up, my body sweating and my face soaked with tears.

I realize I'm throwing up on the living room's stained carpet as Duff startles awake from where he fell asleep beside me on the couch.

Izzy's passed out on the floor on the other side of the coffee table and I look at the clock to see it's 5:00am.

"Viv, are you alright?" Duff asks me, but all I hear in the sound of his voice is the terrifying idea that I just dreamt up an entire fantasy about him that seems so unbelievably realistic, that if he weren't still fully dressed, jacket and boots included, I would swear it actually happened.

My heart sinks to my stomach.

I need Nikki.

It was one hell of a foreshadow.

[rodgram38]

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[im-not-corrupted]

Safi, No (A Witchlands Fanfiction) - Chapter Nine

Written with @un-empressed, who wrote Aeduan’s POV!

Read the other chapters here: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary:

The group chat is a mess. Iseult and Aeduan end up talking a bit more.

Also on Ao3!

Aeduan was doing a great job of ignoring his phone. He could tolerate it lighting up every now and then, signalling a message from the insane group chat he decided to ignore.

It was going very well until Iseult called him. He didn't know it was her at first. She probably got his number from the group. It was weird, but Aeduan found he didn't really mind.

"Stop them," Iseult said as soon as he answered the call. Aeduan didn't even need to ask who 'they' were at this point.

"What are they doing now? Is somebody trying to bribe and corrupt people again?"

"Well, yes, but they want - Just read the messages. You'll see what they want," she said. Aeduan went to respond, but the call was already done. Aeduan shook his head to himself. Out of all groups he could've gotten himself involved with...

Aeduan opened the group chat and scrolled up to the beginning. Apparently Vaness's friend joined the group chat. Aeduan couldn't believe how well this whole thing was working for such a petty cause. Merik Nihar had better watch out.

Aeduan rolled his eyes as he read the first few messages. They weren't that bad, but since Safi sent them, they were... Well, what she considered hilarious, and everyone else considered over the top. Still, Aeduan had to admit how she referred to everyone in the group was sort of funny, if the slightest bit offensive.

But who wouldn't laugh? She kept referring to Iseult as her favourite partner in crime, and called Stix a 'traitor, but tbh I get it, imagine being loyal to Merik'.

Aeduan himself was 'Polly's moody friend who tolerates only Iz'. It was the truth, really, but something about the way it was phrased made Aeduan uneasy. And after all, he did 'tolerate' Vaness as well. She was unwillingly thrown into the whole mess, after all.

It was harmless, considering what Safi was capable of doing. Aeduan wondered why Iseult called him, but as he continued reading, he understood.

Iseult: Seriously? Nobody minds the nicknames?

Aeduan most decidedly minded his, but looking at the time stamp of the message, he was twelve minutes late.

Stix: Not really. Get me 'Traitor' on a jacket and I'd wear it

Safi: Oooooh! That's a great idea! We should all get jackets! Does anyone know someone willing to make us jackets?

Lev: I have this theory that Caden can sew

Aeduan snorted out loud. He hoped Caden couldn't sew, though. Safi was definitely not above getting them jackets.

Safi: I'm intrigued. Continue

Caden: It's been months! Just let it go already! I genuinely don't remember where I got the shirt!

Lev: suuuuuureeee

Safi: No, but this is perfect. We need some kind of motto for our group

Vivia: I thought Bribery and Corruption was the motto?

Stix: No, that's the name and main policy

Vaness: You are all insufferable

Aeduan had to agree with Vaness on that. They were all worse than the last. He wouldn't be surprised if Vaness's friend chickened out after a week. He certainly wouldn't blame her.

Safi: Thanks

Safi: Does anybody have suggestions for the motto?

Lev: "This guy's not even worth digging a hole"

Zander: We aren't using that one

Stix: I've got 99 problems and at least 73 were created by Merik Nihar

Safi: And the other 28?

Iseult: *26

Safi: Oh well forgive me for not being a math magician

Safi: So?

Stix: I am literally half blind

Safi: ?

Stix: Nearsighted

Vaness: Then why don't you wear glasses? It must be hard to get around with bad vision

Stix: First of all, glasses would ruin my whole aesthetic. Second of all, I'll have you know I have at least a mediocre vision and that I do not deserve to be made fun of like that

Vaness: I fail at feeling even remotely apologetic for insulting your eyesight

Safi: You could've just said "fuck you too" but okay

Aeduan rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to keep reading, but he did regardless.

Safi: Do we get them personalised for each of us or should they all say the same thing?

Iseult: Saf, we are not getting jackets

Safi: But Iz!!! It's what the people want!!

Vaness: It is absolutely not

Stix: I mean, it kind of is

Lev: It definitely is

Safi: See?

Iseult: I do, unfortunately

Safi: Why are you so negative?

Aeduan could list a few reasons why. The first few were perhaps a bit rude and subjective, but he didn't really care anymore.

Iseult: Maybe because you're setting up a plot to get revenge on someone who only kind of unintentionally wronged you?

Vivia: Knowing him, it was definitely intentional

Safi: See???

Iseult: Still, you don't even know him.

Vivia: Lucky her

Stix: Amen

Aeduan had never talked to Merik, but surely that many people couldn't all be exaggerating the same thing on the same level. Or maybe Leopold paid them to, just to mess with Aeduan. He was certainly both rich and insane enough.

They were all amazing actors if that was the case. Aeduan was genuinely afraid of Safi making him wear a personalised bribery and corruption jacket. He was really, really afraid.

Safi: I found a good website for ordering custom clothes

Iseult: No

Safi: Yes

Vaness: Safi, No

Safi: Safi yes

Stix: Safi definitely

Caden: Safi maybe? Depends on how the jackets look

Iseult: We are not getting jackets

Vivia: I mean, if they're subtle enough I wouldn't be opposed to it

Vaness: I thought you were sensible

Stix: She is. Those were words of a sane woman if I've ever heard some

Safi: See? My revenge plan is a great opportunity to make friends

Zander: That sounds almost like a commercial

Stix: "Break Merik's leg and you get the satisfaction of breaking Merik's leg"

Safi: 9 out of 10 doctors don't recommend it but that's what makes it fun

Iseult: Why would one doctor recommend it??

Caden: Because Safi bribed and corrupted him.

[x]

"You're a monster," she told Safi once again. 'You're a monster' was the only accurate way to describe her friend these days, even if Iseult said it with fondness.

Safi grinned and winked at her. "Thanks."

"And you're insufferable."

"Again. Thanks."

Safi confused her when she did things like that - when she took everything as a compliment, even when they certainly weren't intended as a compliment. There wasn't much of a difference to Safi, though, and Iseult had to admire her confidence.

Safi sat at the edge of her bed, staring down at her phone with a glint in her eyes that Iseult recognised and did not trust. "Who else could be bribe and corrupt?" She asked Iseult, who rolled her eyes.

"I already told you, I'm not taking part in the revenge plan. And that means I'm not helping you decide who to bribe and corrupt next." Iseult shook her head. Really, how many times did she have to repeat herself? It was beginning to get annoying, though she would never say that.

Safi pouted. "Oh, come on. Please?"

"No."

"Wait!" Safi grinned again. "What about that Ryber girl? Or Ryber's friend, Tanzi? They're friends with Merik. It could work to our advantage."

"No, it will not work to our advantage," Iseult stated matter-of-factly. "Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because they're Merik's friends."

"Stix was Merik's friend, and she was more than eager to join," Safi pointed out.

Iseult rolled her eyes. It was an action she caught herself doing often around Safi. "Stix wasn't his friend."

"Then why did she sit with him?"

"For her actual friend, Kullen, who happened to be friends with Merik." She sighed. "Didn't you listen to a thing Stix said earlier?"

Safi stared into the distance for a second before shrugging. "Apparently not. To be fair, I was making a mental list of who else to bribe and corrupt."

"Don't you have enough people in on the revenge plan?"

Her friend stared at Iseult in horror. "Iseult, darling, there is never 'enough people' when it comes to making Merik's life hell."

"I'm just saying," Iseult replied, raising her hand in mock-surrender. "It will be a whole lot easier for someone - for Merik - to find out about your plan if you 'bribe and corrupt' more people."

Despite having a very good point, Iseult's words weren't actually paid any attention. No, instead of listening to the voice of reason, Safi was grinning down at her phone, typing something quickly. At first, Iseult thought that maybe Safi had decided who she wanted to bribe or corrupt next, but when Safi looked up from her phone and Iseult's didn't show any notifications from the group chat, she quickly changed her mind.

"Iseult," Safi began in a sing-song voice. It was a tone of voice that would've sounded innocent if it wasn't coming from Safi.

She sighed. "Yes?"

"Leopold wants to discuss strategy at the ice cream place."

Iseult snorted. "'Discuss strategy'? We aren't fighting a war, Saf."

Her friend glared at her. "This is war, Iseult. Merik is a plague upon this earth. War is the only way to rid of him."

"Okay then," Iseult nodded along, giving up. Safi was clearly set in her ways.

"Good," Safi nodded. "Now, are you in? Aeduan will be there."

Iseult was going to say 'yes' anyway, but the promise of Aeduan being there made it sound somewhat more appealing. She shrugged. "Sure."

*

Iseult was an idiot. That was the only thing she could think as she sat opposite Aeduan in total silence - the same state they had been in for the last ten minutes.

To be fair, Safi made it very easy to trust her. Too easy. She had walked to the ice cream place with Iseult, waiting for Leopold and Aeduan to arrive. But before they did, Safi claimed she needed the toilet and disappeared, leaving Iseult there alone.

Until Leopold had arrived with a very unhappy-looking Aeduan in tow. They talked for a bit, not long, when she received a text from Safi. Sorry, had to head home. You guys have fun! ;)

Iseult hadn't thought anything of it until Leopold stood from his seat, a mask of innocence plastered on his face as he said, "Oh, sorry, I'm needed...elsewhere? Yeah, elsewhere. See you tomorrow!"

That's when it dawned on Iseult. Leopold's mask of innocence did not discuss the mischief in his eyes.

Leopold and Safi had set them up.

That's how her and Aeduan ended up in this predicament - sat opposite each other, with no idea what to say. All their interactions so far had been focused on the revenge plan, so now that they weren't forced into talking about it, they didn't know just what to talk about.

"Is Safi late?" Aeduan asked her. It sounded like a genuine question, and that was almost enough to make Iseult bang her head on the table in front of her.

Apparently, it hadn't quite dawned on Aeduan yet.

Iseult rolled her eyes. "No, she just had to head home."

Aeduan nodded, though he looked confused. "Okay then. Do you want some ice cream? I'll get it for us."

"Sure thing. Might as well since we're here," she answered with a slight shrug, relieved that they were no longer stuck in silence.

Aeduan didn't move. "What flavour?"

"Oh, yeah." She forgot flavours were a thing. "Strawberry, please?"

"Sure." Aeduan left to get their ice cream, leaving her alone, though not for long. He came back a few minutes later, two ice cream cones in hand - two scoops of strawberry for her, and mint-chocolate-chip for him.

"Thanks," she said, taking the cone from him.

"No problem," he replied, and took a bite of his ice cream.

Iseult stared at him in horror. "You just - did you just bite into your ice cream?"

"Yes?" He answered, though it sounded more like a question in his confusion.

"How the fucking hell? Didn't it hurt your teeth?" She took a lick of her own as Aeduan's confusion only intensified.

"Uh, no?"

"You alien."

He laughed slightly. "So, what should we talk about?"

Iseult shrugged. "Literally anything would do."

"Okay." He took another bite, an action that still baffled her, and seemed to consider his question carefully. "Let's start with something easy. How did you and Safi become friends? You two seem like polar opposites."

"What can I say? Opposites attract, or whatever people say." She shrugged, licking her ice cream again. "We've been friends since we were kids. Some kids were picking on me - I don't really remember it now - and Safi stood up for me. We've been friends ever since."

"She sounds like a good friend," Aeduan replied.

"She is. I'd ask about you and Leopold, but I already know the story behind that one." She laughed a little, and he smiled a little.

"Yeah, I don't feel like going through the many questions there," he joked, taking another bite. He surveyed the rest of the room - there were few people there, and it was very quiet. "Hey, do you want to get out of here?"

She contemplated that for a second, then shrugged. What was the harm? If he turned out to be a serial killer and murdered her, Safi was to blame for the not-so-subtle set up. "Okay."

*

Read the next chapter here: Chapter Ten

[askmyboys]

Zander Samms aka the narcissistic asshole and Duncan Castella aka please save this man

First and Last Name: Zander Samms | Age: N/A | Height: 7'9 | Eye Color: Dark Green | Hair Color: Mocha Brown | Facial Hair: (Circle Goatee- wow- im really stickin with this option huh) | Appearance: Red and Black suits mainly, he has many other suit combinations and not really anything casual, he always has to look his best, he keeps his hair slicked back most of the time and other times he just lets the hair do what it wants so long as it doesn't get TOO messy- this bitch even got fancy pants so go figure- EVEN FANCY SHOES- | Personality: He isn't really evil or so he claims its... "just business" as he and even the family says, he is a major asshole however and all he truly cares about is money and family and even then, he might care more about money than the actual family itself, its hard to tell with him as he never really opens up and usually he's just out and about to do what he wants or needs to, however if you insist on interacting and talking to him be prepared to listen to all the accomplishments he has, and really- at this point your just having a conversation with a basic narcissist, however he never actually tells about any of the whole mafia/mob business he gets up to, so maybe he does care at LEAST a little bit about the family (basic gist is he is just a plain ol narcissistic asshole who only cares about money and maybe a bit about family) |  Side Facts: When family is mentioned, they are actually not even related, nobody at all is brother, sister- nothing like that, they just like to think of themselves as a family- A rather... not so pleasant family but a family nonetheless- Zander h a t e s that they paired him up with Duncan, he can't stand the blubbering mess of a man, he can barely even kill properly without crying so why the hell should h e have to be the one to take care of this nuisance? If it wasn't for the family... Zander would probably have slaughtered Duncan long ago, however even Zander knows he isn't a match against all of them... He's... not the best to have a conversation with, its usually all about him, him, him- nothing much else, luckily for most though he does mind his own business, he doesn't care about interacting with other people- if anything, he would actually rather push people away than risk having them get too close for comfort...

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

First and Last Name: Duncan Castella | Age: N/A | Height: 4'5 | Eye Color: Teal | Hair Color: Dark Teal | Appearance: He's a bit mixed with clothing, he has really fancy suits and then he has his casual clothing which honestly he seems to prefer wearing, really the only time you'll see him in any fancy clothing is when he has to attend a formal type of event, he has a rather large poof of hair on top of his head and he barely has any hair on the sides of his head (he got that p o o f) and surprise- surprise- he doesn't have facial hair- | Personality: For a Mobster man, he is.... actually quite nice, he tries to be kind and caring and he even seems to have a little anxiety, he doesn't like harming people at all, killing people almost sends him into a panic attack right then and there, however he wants to get better at this, he wants his anxiety to just go away, he wants to impress the family and he knows there's really only one way to do that, he has to do his job/missions right- and maybe even try for a little extra credit on the side. (basic gist of him, is he's just a smol anxiety-ridden nice dude) | Side Facts: He tries his best to get along with Zander but truth be told, he really doesn't feel comfortable being in the same room as the other, especially if their both alone in a room, he gets very panicked when he's alone in a room with the other even if he does know Zander can't actually do him harm thanks to the family, even as much as Zander terrifies him he still... tries to be nice to him, he could never be mean to the other- even as much as the other is mean to him... He gets super anxious when it comes to the boss, in fact- the boss has actually sent him into a full blown panic attack once, it... wasn't on purpose or so it seemed.

[latinegro]

Sketchy

I am a brilliant asshole and not in a good way. I’m always putting myself in a situation that sounds great at first, but as it happens, it’s not so great at all. 

I put the pencil on the paper and I begin to outline the basic layout of my model. Myra is laying on the couch in front of me. It’s old couch too, she’s probably the best thing that has happened on that couch in years.

She posed herself in a particular way so that the contours of her curves can be accentuated. I nervously erase the first mistake I make. It’s been a very long time since I’ve drawn a nude model. I’m acting like I’ve never sketched a naked woman before, it’s really not that hard. But, this is absolutely the first time I’ve drawn a woman that I’m acquainted with. It doesn’t help that I find her to be one of the sexiest women I know.

I can feel my heart racing because I know what I’m doing is wrong. I know that I shouldn’t be doing this but an opportunity presented itself and I had to take it. It does sound selfish but in a way, it really isn’t. First of all, the artist in me will not allow me to call this whole thing off. Secondly, I try to tell myself that she’s not a hot woman that I have been attracted to for a while but rather a future portrait for a client. I take a few deep breaths so I can maintain my concentration. Nervousness will only lead to a shaky hand and that’s not good for any sketch.

But, of course, I had to open my big mouth. I’m a writer at heart and by trade. I can describe what she looks like the best way I can use words and adjectives not with this damn pencil that I’m pretending was my hand going down those beautiful thick brown legs of hers. The thing is, I used to draw fairly regularly. I was one of those kids that would be so annoyingly good at drawing anything that I felt I didn’t need those pretentious art classes. I could freehand any comic book cover I see. I could draw anything or anyone if they were standing in front of me. My only weakness was I could never draw anything as I good as I wanted to from memory. My measurements were always wrong, at least that was what I was told.

At the end of the day it wasn’t big deal to me because no matter how good I was at drawing, my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t love it like other people love it and that’s probably why I didn’t take it as seriously. I felt much more at ease using words to describe anything. I can perfectly describe how beautiful Myra is. She’s like a brown-skinned Athena from Themyscira that Wonder Woman would never talk about. Myra is the reason some would believe that God exists. When scientists talk about how we’re all made from stardust, they had Myra in mind.

I need to focus.

I have the basic shell of her body that fits perfectly on my old couch that should seat three people comfortably. Her black curly hair may be a problem for me. Myra chooses to wear it natural which makes her even more attractive but if I don’t shade it correctly this whole drawing would look like a caricature. But, alas, her big brown eyes look past me. She stares off into space truly hoping that I’m capturing this moment and indeed I am catching this very moment of her looking past me. I will consider that to be my fault. I may be good with writing words but actually speaking them to women is another thing entirely.

I met Myra first but I lacked the basic courage to kick it to her. We ended up being a little less than friends but more than just passing acquaintances. Of course, when Jules met her it was all downhill from there. I was always happy for them but mad at myself. Jules is a decent guy and when they first got together, all they did was fuck. Yes, I know that is normal because if it were me, I would hope that she would break me every damn day.

Another mistake. I may need a better eraser.

I get up and she asks, “Everything OK?”

“Sure, I just have to get another eraser,” I answer. She shrugs her bare shoulders as I walk to the desk and open the drawer. Jules is the real artist in all this. He’s one half of the team behind the independent Black comic book, The Insiders. We met at the NY Comic Con years ago and Jules and I became fast friends. Through the years we created our own comic book universe that has a plethora of characters. The excitement for this project is palpable because we’re building something important. In our universe, there are no meaningless black characters created for the sole purpose of being sidekicks. Together we’ve molded superheroes that matter; superheroes that look like us. There is a true meaning behind every page and we’re ready to take the industry by storm.

Jules has tons of different art supplies in this desk that it’s hard to keep track of all of it. But, at least I know where the erasers are. He stores most of his art supplies in my apartment since it has become our default workspace. It’s just easier this way since both of our day jobs make it hard to be the creators we are. We need a place to work and bounce our ideas off of each other. I pick one a small eraser and close the drawer. Before I walk away from the desk, my eyes focus on one of the sketches he was working on from issue #3. One thing about working with friends is, at times, it’s hard to come to a real agreement on the philosophy of a particular story. I really don’t think that the splash on page 11 is necessary but clearly, he’s working on it anyway.

I walk back to my chair and I smile at Myra before I sit down. I grab my pad and I keep going. My eyes scan slowly scan her from left to right. She’s laying on her right side with her right arm holding up her head and her left arm resting on her hip. Her breasts are a perfect size. They don’t sag at all and her tummy is a result of a lot of gym work. No visible stretch marks and no tattoos. This makes this sketch easier than what I originally anticipated.

I draw carefully. My pencil tries to mimic everything that my eyes absorb. I cannot believe that Julius’ wife is laying on this couch modeling for me. She wants this to be a present for him on their upcoming anniversary. Has it been two years already? It must be. That’s was around the time we decided to build this whole comic book company together. He’s the artist and I’m the writer. Now, look at me, doing a sketch that I may be getting more pleasure from than she is. Granted, this probably a bad idea, but how can I deny her this. I tried to convince her that perhaps it would be a better idea to dress up as a sexy gender bender of Grand Admiral Thrawn and I would make sure to get the colors right. She denied that, but I can, at least, convince myself that I tried to get her to wear the most clothes as possible.

I scan her navel trying to make sure that I can get the correct dimensions and diameter of the belly button ring. It looks like a small little pendant that sparkles from the light coming from the ceiling fan above. I scan further past her navel toward her vagina. Her legs are slightly crossed with her left leg slightly bent downward covering her right. It casts a shadow from the light.

My pencil breaks. Shit, was I pressing down that hard? She chuckles, “Having trouble?”

“Not at all,” I reply as I grab the extra pencil next to me. I want to try to be as emotionless as possible. Mentally I’m shaking my head. How did you get into this Zander? I will tell you how; I was cocky. I thought that I could talk enough shit in hopes to just flirt a little and now... my partner’s wife is my living room, nude.

Did I mention I was a brilliant asshole and not in a good way?

I remember staying over their townhouse in Brooklyn one night and while I have wondered what is that she does that allows her to own such a place, that was the night I got a glance of how skillful she was.

It was a late night of partying and they offered me a room to crash. I was so drunk that night that I just passed out as soon as I hit the bed. It must of been an hour or two later when I really had to use the bathroom. I got up and there was a long hallway that I had to navigate despite my lightheadedness. As I begin to walk down the general direction of what I thought was the bathroom, I hear noises. I slowly passed the room where it coming from and that is when I catch a glimpse of her reverse cowgirl riding Jules in a way that made me realize that twerking needs to a sport. I tried not to voyeur too long and thank God I had to piss, but all I remember was my heart beating so much that I felt it in my dick.

I need to continue on her legs and feet. I really do hate drawing feet. I can never get the right angle. I need to take my time and make sure the curvatures are correct. Shadowing will also be a problem. The lighting is pretty decent in here but I will need to at least need to define her curves with some type of shadow.

I can’t even imagine actually inking this. The good thing is that I can scan this into the computer and work on all the coloring there. I assume she wants it colored. Actually, I never asked. “Did you want this sketch in color?” I do my best to look at her eyes when I converse with her.

“Hm, You know, I think that would be a nice touch. Sure, if you can do it. But I will take one in black and white, just in case,” Myra chuckles a bit. I think she knows that coloring may be a tad difficult for me. Not only do I have to make sure that I color inside the lines, but how do I get her exact skin tone?

Then it hits me. I put the pencil down and I look at her. “So, I have an idea and it’s totally ok if you’re not willing to do it.”

“What would that be?”

I’m nervous to even suggest it. “You know what? Never mind. It’s a dumb idea. I don’t even know why I would even think of such a thing.”

“Just tell me.”

I take a deep breath, “Ok so, I want to get the shade of color just right and once I scan this in into the laptop I will need to..”

Myra laughs, “Zander, just spit it out.”

“I need to take a picture of you so that I can match your skin tone with the RGB color code.” I look down at my unfinished sketch as soon as I said it.

“You sly little devil!” Myra sits up and looks at me with a surprised look on her face as if she caught me red handed.

“What do you mean?” I ask

“Why the fuck you lyin?” She asks in a sing-songy manner. “You just want a nude picture of me!” I honestly can’t tell if she’s being serious or not, but she’s absolutely telling the truth. See how much of a brilliant bastard I am? This is how I get myself into trouble and once again I feel my heart coming through my dick.

“I mean, I would delete it as soon as I got the color correct.” Which is a lie.

“I don’t know about that. In all honesty, you can just take pictures of me with my clothes on and then screen-grab the color.” She was totally right about that. I hadn’t thought about it. Then she continues, “The reason why I am asking you to do this sketch is because I do trust you. That is why I never said anything to Jules when I saw you peeping into our room that night.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask nervously. I was never sure if she actually saw me and I assumed that since no one said anything that perhaps we were all just drunk. Of course, I cannot forget that after I went to the bathroom I returned to continue my voyeurism. Shit.  

Myra gives me a smirk, “Please, do not insult my intelligence. I know you’ve seen me naked before and I am quite comfortable with my body. So I will save you more embarrassment by saying that I do want this drawing to come out correctly. So I will allow you to take a picture but I want you to delete the picture in front of me.”

I pull out my iPhone from my pocket and ask her to return to her original pose. Myra is right about this but I don’t care right now. Even if I delete all the photos from my device and the cloud, I will still have her body burned into my brain. If not, there is always the original copy of this sketch… for portfolio purposes of course. I take a few pictures with and without the flash.

Myra smiles and asks, “How many photos do you plan on taking?” I want to explain lighting and such but then she cuts me off, “I hope you have enough space on the cloud for all of these.”

I freeze, “Um…”

“I am not stupid, Zander. I fully expect you to find a way to try to keep pictures of me. Just know that…”

Bang. Bang.

We both look up. There’s a knock on the door. I look at Myra as she gets up quickly and covers herself with a robe I gave her.

“Who is it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s Jules. Dude, let me in. We need to talk…about everything.”

Shit. I put my face in my palm. This could be four years and three issues down the drain.

[prktaeil]

I promise to never fall in love with a stranger.

New York City. 2015.

chapter 1.

he had zero idea what was happening around him, the music in his earphones being too loud that it can be heard by anyone who’s within three feet radius from him. he didn’t care if it was annoying, as long as it blocked his mind out of having to listen to everyone around him. 

taeil opened his locker as his group of friends gathered near him, talking amongst themselves. he wasn’t sure if he could call them friends, really, they were more like people he got along well with. but that’s when he noticed that one annoying blonde cheerleader and her friend making fun of them. taeil could only roll his eyes and ignore. these preppy people were never worth a second thought. he stopped his music and took his earphones out, stuffing them in his pocket where his phone was, and that was the moment he noticed another cheerleader around. he was surprised, to say the least, to see the head cheerleader shutting her friends up.

as him and his friends walked away, minding their own business, one of the other guys spoke up about the new kid in school, and taeil could feel all of their eyes on him. “he’s your brother, isn’t he?” he asked. taeil sighed, rolling his eyes. “... yes, idiot, we’re identical. but let’s not even associate him with me. we’re nowhere alike.” he answered in a tired tone in his voice. “yeah, no shit.” the others laughed amongst themselves, definitely seeing the difference between the pair of twins. 

that same day, taeil sat in the very back of one of his classes, which just so happened to be one he had to take with his brother out of all people. all he could do was stare out the window and pretend he didn’t know him. as close as they were when they were younger, they were very different now and taeil didn’t like being around him as much as he used to. they got compared to each other a lot, and a lot of stereotypes were thrown at taeil in particular that he eventually got sick of it. ignoring the teacher, taeil rested his head against the desk, his music playing in his earphones ones again, at a lower volume to not get caught. he could pass these classes so easily anyway, even with how the teachers always thought he must be cheating. 

as they sat around their usual table in the back to eat their lunch – the emo kids table, by the way – taeil noticed rosie plopping down across from him, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “didn’t know you liked talking to preppy cheerleaders.” he stated in his usual monotone, blunt voice. he saw her talking to that head cheerleader and it was honestly so weird. “she’s a friend of mine, but we never hang out.” the girl simply shrugged. “she’s been telling me about some party, so... you guys going?” 

taeil leaned back in his seat, looking at the others around him. they were debating about it for a little while until they finally decided to go, and taeil looked at rosie again. “guess i’m going then.”

“okay.” she nodded, stuffing her mouth with her food, and taeil could tell that she was worried about something or was hiding something. she looked way too awkward as she looked at him, which was strange, coming from rosie. “tell zander we’re going.” he told her, knowing their friend was too much of a loner to even get talked to, let alone invited. “you’re gonna ask that weirdo to come?” one of the guys laughed, and taeil and rosie immediately looked at him with an evil glare in their eyes, shutting him up immediately. 

the party didn’t seem too bad. it was filled with kids he didn’t know, mostly populars and rich kids who just so happened to have one of their houses empty and decided to have a party. taeil didn’t really care, as long as there were free drinks, he wouldn’t complain. he was sat on one of the stools in the kitchen, rosie sitting beside him as they kept pouring themselves some drinks. in that moment, is when things started to get interesting. head cheerleader – mina, was it? – walked in, dressed in all black, a color you’d never see her wearing except in rare occasions. that, along with the most tom-boy clothes he’s ever seen on her. taeil was too tipsy to keep things to himself, and just as mina stood close to them, he leaned over to rosie to whisper... maybe a little loudly. “okay, she’s hot.” rosie could only stare at him with a horrified look on her face. 

“you think i’m hot?” mina asked, leaning against the island with a smug smile on her face. “i guess so.” taeil said casually and shrugged a shoulder like he didn’t care. meanwhile, rosie was sat there looking between them, looking very surprised at the odds of this happening. “well, i think you’re hot too.” the conversation kept going like that, but mina’s smile didn’t resemble anything near trying to get into bed with him. it was a soft one and taeil found himself warming up, despite his usual asshole-ish attitude where he kept more to himself and had a blunt tone in his voice. “you know, i'd say we could take this upstairs, but people would talk.” she said, tucking back a strand of her hair. taeil put down his drink and smirked. “let them.” before they knew it, they both got up, with mina dragging him upstairs, all while rosie stared at them with wide eyes as they left. “what... the fuck?” she muttered to herself.

while all of that was happening, minho was standing there on the other side of the kitchen, watching the interaction between mina and taeil unfold with a knowing smile on his face. as he was watching, his eyes were also traveling to where two other people were standing, talking to each other. one of them, yubin, was encouraging his friend to do something. while the other, jinwoo, was rubbing his arm nervously as he kept looking between yubin and the floor. eventually, minho saw him nod and bravely go to knock back a shot. once he did that, minho noticed him coming towards him and his heart started to beat a little faster. he’s always seen the boy in some of his classes and also subtly stared at him, but never had the courage to speak much to him despite being one of the most social people in the school. and now the nervous kid was walking up to him and he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

jinwoo took a deep breath. “you-... you look, uh r-r-really good-... like in- in a-... like... h-hot? i-... you know what d-d-don't worry about it, have a good- good night.” he immediately ran off that minho really had no idea what had just happened. did jinwoo just call me hot?! his mind screamed. “hey, wait!!” he screamed, putting his cup down and running after him. 

“what the fuck was that?” yubin sighed, shaking his head in disappointment as he watched jinwoo run off with minho right behind him. “gay panic.” someone suddenly spoke. yubin looked up, only to see a boy with colorful hair standing next to him. he recognized him as that one loner that everyone found so annoying because he always spoke his mind when he wasn’t asked for it. “where the fuck did you come from...?” yubin looked at him weirdly. zander? was it? looked at him with a dopey smile, obviously high. “right behind you. anyway, you’re that hot dude in the dance troop, right?” 

“... what is happening right now?” yubin just stared at him, not knowing what to do. “you ask way too many questions, hot guy. let me get you a drink.” and before yubin knew it, zander was pouring vodka in a plastic cup – yubin’s least favorite, actually – and handed it over to him with a smile. “uh...” the taller stared at the contents of the cup, then looked at the other again. “thanks. you can... go now.” 

“hey, wait up!” minho finally caught up to jinwoo outside the house. “are you okay?” he asked, and only got a nod from the other as he kept staring at the ground like he was about to cry. “can i... can i talk to you? i really want to...” minho asked carefully, not knowing what to say to not be too much on the boy. “please?” he smiled sweetly. 

jinwoo looked up at him and nodded once again. minho’s smile widened and he immediately reached over to take the other boy’s hand. he could feel how tense he was and he understood, because he was feeling his heart about to jump out of his chest. “you’re so cute! what the hell?!” minho blurted out as he dragged the taller boy over to a garden swing nearby. jinwoo simply stared at him in shock, like his brain was about to explode. “i-i-i... i-i am?” and minho laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “you are.” 

“i-i-i- oh- oh my- g-god.” he was blushing so much, minho felt the need to squeal. instead, he had the widest, most in-love smile on his face that he ever had. “so, you said i was hot?” that question only made jinwoo blush more and hide his face, somehow getting more nervous than he already was. that’s when he gave another nod in response instead of speaking. 

“well, guess what? i think you’re hot too. also cute, extremely fucking adorable and really damn beautiful.” minho confessed bluntly, thinking he might as well just tell him what he’s been holding back. jinwoo didn’t think he could handle what was happening right now. 

as they sat out there, away from the noise and the music, even if there were some drunken teenagers nearby, minho talked to him, trying to start a conversation. jinwoo eventually got more and more comfortable, despite his nervous stutter, and minho was grateful for what he was getting. he kept holding his hand and had turned to look at jinwoo properly as he talked, wanting to give him his full attention. at some point, they found themselves leaning in close to each other, until they stopped and pulled away, looking at anything but each other’s faces. minho’s heart was threatening to fly out of his chest at any moment and he didn’t think he could handle this. 

“promise you’ll talk to me more often in school?” minho asked, smiling softly at him. jinwoo nodded shyly, and minho even got him to exchange numbers. “and you also have to promise to text me.” he demanded, getting jinwoo to laugh a little. “i-i-i will.” 

“do you want to stay at the party? because i’m not really feeling it anymore.” minho asked, thumb pointing back to the house. jinwoo shook his head and minho stood up, offering him his hand again. “let me walk you home then.” 

[tonthrone7-blog]

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Whatever from smoking, a poor diet as well as absence of workout can be at fault for the dreadful orange peel. The arise from the self-reported aesthetic analogue ranges from the subjects themselves showed, as expected, that during month one there was no adjustment in the appearance of cellulite. However, the outcomes revealed that throughout month 2, while the stockings were being put on, there was a significant improvement in the appearance of cellulite.

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FRIDAY, Dec. 15, 2017 (HealthDay News) -- High-intensity focused ultrasound (HIFU) treatment for skin laxity can cause facial nerve injury, according to a case study published online Nov. 22 in the Journal of Cosmetic Dermatology.

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This enhancement was statistically considerable also in the handful of patients included. The results from month three were extremely interesting and also revealed that there was an ongoing renovation in the look of cellulite after the stockings had been disposed of. Therefore the objective of this study was to analyze whether the details 'micro-massage ridge innovation' anti-cellulite compression stockings are effective in decreasing the appearance of cellulite. You can find out more regarding skin-tightening items and also their impacts here. A scrub with coffee premises also cleanses as well as promotes the blood circulation in the cells. Cycling, running and also the step maker are your allies on the path to good-looking skin.

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After my course as well as a little Physio I am completely back on kind.

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If a person is leaner, there is less fat, yet they can still have cellulite," added Lucy. To help obtain to the base of this, we've spoken to professionals to disclose what creates cellulite and also the scientific research of cellulite removal. It's much more common than you might think, as well as it doesn't simply influence individuals who are obese-- much from it. My cellulite has actually enormously decreased, to the extent I no more feel self-conscious regarding it and gladly wear shorts and also little dresses. I have actually likewise exercised more than I may or else have actually done, primarily vigorous strolling as well as swimming in the river near my home-- Kate motivates cardiovascular activity that targets areas susceptible to cellulite like the hips and bottom.

How does HIFU face lift work?

HIFU makes use of ultrasonic energy to penetrate deep below the skin and fat layers of the face to gently but effectively target connective tissue. HIFU has a tightening effect on the loose connective tissue, restoring firmness to areas of sagging skin and resulting in a visible lifting effect.

Depending on the stimulations that the adipocytes get, they will multiply and also keep more fat or decline as well as shop much less fat. Genetics have a lot to do with cellulite, for that reason it's less complicated for some to minimize cellulite than others. Solution 5 concerns to discover your skin as well as discover our finest items for you. B-Calm-- An advanced dermocosmetic variety to lower the symptoms of incredibly delicate skin as well as rosacea. Some high power ultrasound treatments might work well as well, while the low varieties are not really reliable.

When it impacts all-time low, bums take on a heavy, sagging look. Quality 1 - No visible cellulite, also when the skin is pinched. There are 4 various grades of cellulite and there are special cellulite medical diagnosis plates which, when held on the skin, inform us the grade to ensure that we know exactly how ideal to treat it. Cellulite is a basic term that covers several types of skin problem. Considering that cellulite has actually currently become something of a hot topic, we asked skin care specialist Jill Zander to fill us know whatever you ever required to learn about cellulite. His Greetings Britain associate Susanna Reid stuck up for Kim, contacting ladies to commemorate their curves and if they have cellulite, to not be afraid to reveal it.

The treatment can be used for the upper legs as well as buttocks, abdomen, flanks and also arms. It is recommended that you have 6-8 treatments at weekly periods to get the very best feasible results. Below is a short rundown of the treatments we provide here at Aesthetics of Liverpool, you can discover more regarding each therapy kind by clicking the link to experience to the full page on our web site. Even a few of the most toned, healthy and fit ladies suffer with the trouble of cellulite as well as desire frantically to be devoid of it. 90% of women will certainly experience cellulite eventually during their lives.

Can I wear makeup after HIFU?

Makeup (preferably mineral based) may be applied immediately post treatment. Soothing, non-irritating creams or moisturizers may be used. Use a sun block with an SPF of 30 or greater if going out into the sun to help prevent future sun damage. Apply repair solution for maintaining lasting effect.

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Skin may go a little pink but it's a sign the blood is hurrying to the surface, working hard in that cellulite fight'. In fact, specialists say that between 80 and 90 percent of women experience cellulite, which it's not a sign of being obese-- slim individuals are regularly impacted also.

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[artnerd1123]

Not My Fight

Chapter three ——————–

It’s about time we had an update, eh? Happy reading all :3c Chapters list can be found here

——————–

After Avery had made a proper blanket tent, he extinguished the flame of the lantern that sat on his desk. A soft purple glow soon shone from his cupped paw. He used the light of his magic fire to get back to his bed. Settling down, he let the small fireball float above the scroll. It illuminated the old runes and small pictures that a monster had inscribed decades upon decades ago.

“Ok,” he whispered to himself, “let's see what this guy has to say about the little pests…”

Pcoumos: their creation and their impact on monster society

Pcoumos are highly interesting creatures. They were created by a magic battle between two very powerful wizards, back in the days where magic ruled over all. We aren't quite sure what spells caused their existence. Hence their name, which is an acronym for Parasitic Cloud Of Uncertain Magical Origins. What we are certain of is that they “spawned” during what would have been a fatal blow to both wizards, who were both using a barrage of different spells in addition to their death spells. Due to the unique properties of the opposing magics, the resulting explosion cloud took on a life of its own.

Pcoumos can be anywhere from harmless (but extremely annoying) to lethal. This, of course, depends purely on their interactions with other monsters. When you spot a pcoumo, it is advised that you flee the scene and report it to the authorities-

At that point, Avery snorted, and stopped reading the short paragraph. They've made it clear since we were babies what we are supposed to do about them, he commented mentally. Freeze, run, and report. I bet that would just make them come after you...

He skimmed the scroll to see if he could find anything of more interest than warnings. Sure enough, he found a passage discussing the pcoumo’s instincts. This oughta be good, he thought. He moved into a more comfortable position before beginning to read again.

Since they are magic based beings, they need a host to replenish their energy regularly. This host is always a monster of some sort. The pcoumo usually enters the host by phasing through them; similar to a fog and a cloth, but stays inside the host’s body. It can also take control via a handshake. Sometimes the host does not realize it is a host until the pcoumo becomes rather difficult to remove.

Avery shifted uneasily, briefly wondering if anyone he knew could have a pcoumo. He shook his head. The kingdom had taken precautions for that. Especially after all of the ruler of Nthenda’s actions concerning pcoumos…

He moved the scroll up.

Once inside the host, the pcoumo gets to work by slowly learning the monster’s mannerisms and behaviors. Upon gathering enough information, it will communicate with its host via dreams and faint telepathy, giving off the appearance of unconscious thoughts. It will offer the monster the ability to gain its wildest fancy. Or occasionally offer to help them with a particularly difficult academic or job-related issue. If the host accepts this offer, the pcoumo has access to the host’s limbs and memories. This particular method of taking over a host is why most targets of pcoumos are of a relatively young age, as younger monsters are easier to win over.

The host can also be a voluntary one, as certain very old pcoumos have gained the ability to speak. It’s not uncommon to find children playing with them. One must be extremely watchful of their children if it is after dark or storming out.

It takes anywhere from a couple days to a week for the pcoumo to get full access to a host’s body. But when it does, it can take control of the host whenever it wants, and do anything that it desires.

However, these desires are usually just pure curiosity, such as chasing after butterflies or stopping to watch a fish swim by in the river. That does NOT mean that they can’t also be destructive. While pcoumos generally do not listen to monsters’ instructions, they can still be trained to do one’s dirty work. This can include forcing the unfortunate host to comply to whatever the monster who trained the pcoumo wants them to -

There was a noise outside the hall.

Avery let out a small panicked gasp. If he was caught reading scrolls in bed again, he’d be unable to do any training for two weeks. He snuffed out the small fireball he’d summoned with one paw, then attempted to toss the scroll onto his desk with the other. He winced at the clattering sound it made.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway went silent. Avery’s wince turned into a grimace.

I shouldn't have done that, he thought, pulling the covers over himself. But it was better to be caught with a scroll on the floor than a scroll in his bed.  

The footsteps moved slowly closer to his door. Avery did his best to take shallow and deep breaths. It would give him the appearance of sleep, even if he was still in his squire’s clothes.

But, unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. A  very particular knock. Two knocks, a pause, then three slow knocks. Avery was silent for a moment more before rolling out of his bed. He crept silently over to the door.

“Avery…?” Francis called sleepily, half opening an eye to look at him, “What’re you doing…?”

“Shh-” Avery put a finger to his lips, “someone’s at the door. Go on back to sleep.”

“Mmh… ok…” Francis yawned, folding his petals up around his face again.

Avery waited until Francis had fallen asleep again before knocking on his door softly, mimicking the previous sound. There was an answering thump from out in the hall. He opened the door to reveal a yellow and brown dinosaur. The moonlight glinted off his dusty scales, and made it seem like it's chocolate brown eyes glowed in the dark. The dinosaur was a few inches taller than Avery, forcing him to look up in order to meet his gaze. Its banded sleeves revealed that this particular dinosaur was a guard, and on duty at that. But Avery knew the scaly sentry well. It was his colleague; Kade.

“Kade, what are you doing here?!” Avery whispered vehemently, “we’re gonna get caught!”

Kade simply shook his head.

“Just follow me. And be quiet about it.” he said gruffly.

Avery sighed. Nodding, he carefully slipped out of his room to follow the dinosaur down the hall. Despite his rather bulky frame, Kade moved almost silently. It was only the soft clicking sound of claws on stone that revealed his footsteps.

Avery followed as silently as he could, but still managed to be louder than an elephant in a glassblowing shop. That’s what he thought, anyway. It’s just late night jitters, he thought to himself. He wondered what Kade would want to do at this hour. Certainly not to go train. At least, I hope not.

Soon, the two had reached the outer wall of the castle.

“Jus a bit more,” Kade muttered, “through here…” He gestured to a gap in the flagstones before slipping through. Avery tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless followed Kade through.

The gap had led out to a ledge built into the castle wall for an archer during a time of siege. But for now, it housed Avery and Kade. And a rather large bush. Avery glanced over at the dark leaved plant before turning back to his scaly companion.

“Ok Kade. The jig is up. What did you want to show me?” he yawned, rubbing his arms to keep them warm.

“This,” kade said, gently reaching up to pat the bush, “you can come out now, Prisma.”

Avery bleated in shock, slapping a paw over his mouth. The bush’s leaves and branches had begun to retract themselves into the stonework to reveal... a ferret?!

It wasn’t so much the presence of the ferret inside the bush that surprised him. It was the colors she was wearing. The ferret, who he guessed was Prisma, stretched her arms and scooched over to stand next to Kade. She had light tan fur with taupe markings around her eyes and on her paws, tail, and back. Her outfit confirmed her occupation as a spy, but the color of her shirt was sea green rather than blue. This was not a spy from Eitilte.

“... Kade…” Avery said nervously, “Why is there a spy from Ranomasib here? Why didn’t you turn her in?! And why did you show her to me?!” He reached for his sword, momentarily forgetting that he’d left it in his room. Kade held up a hand, giving Avery a warning look.

“I wanted you to meet her. I found her a few weeks ago. And I did report her. The princess didn’t say her presence was unlawful,” he explained.

“Well… alright then… but does that mean there are more spies from Ranomasib?” Avery asked, shifting uneasily.

Prisma nodded.

“Price Zander’s spies are in more places than you would expect. I was gathering some castle information when I was caught by Kay here,” she said, turning to look up at Kade. She chuckled. “He was… unsure what to do, but I let him take me to your princess.”

Kade snorted.

“If by “let”, you mean “made me chase you around the castle walls twice,” then sure. You let me take you.”

“Oh be quiet. I didn’t know what you were gonna do to me.”

“And I didn’t know what you were doing in the first place. But hey, it all worked out.” Kade smiled gently at the ferret. “And we’re partners now.”

“In more ways than one,” prisma said, grinning mischievously. She leaned on Kade’s chest and laughed, holding his hand in her paw. Kade simply snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. A small rosy hue had appeared on his cheeks.

Avery looked back and forth between them.

“So… let me get this straight,” he said, clapping his paws together and pointing them both at the couple. “You're partners with the spy of another kingdom… and you're dating her too…?”

Kade’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of red.

“That’s about the gist of it, yes…” Kade responded with a small nod.

“Is that a problem?” Prisma’s bluish-purple eyes flashed dangerously in the dark. Avery gulped. An angry spy wasn’t one he wanted to tangle with.  

“No, no, it’s fine-” Avery waved his paws, taking a step back- “I-I just wanted to clarify…” He sighed, pushing his fur up out of his eyes. This was… he wasn’t sure what to call it. Not necessarily good, but not really bad either.

“So… what now…?”

“I just wanted to introduce her to you. Y’know. So she could be a part of the group.”

Avery stared at him blankly.

“You… want her to be a part of the group?”

“Yeah, I mean, she won’t do any harm…”

“And I’ve heard so much about it already!” Prisma broke in excitedly.

Avery jumped. Her voice had seemed to come out of thin air. He shook his head. Spies, he thought to himself, sneaky even when they don’t mean to be…

“Well… I suppose i could talk to Kry about it…”

Kade grinned at him, going over to clap him on the back.

“Thanks Avery. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Heh, no problem kade…” Avery said with a yawn. “Now can I please go back to bed…?”

“Oh, right. It is kinda late.”

“Kinda late??? It’s like 11 at night kade! I’d call that actually late. Especially when I’ve got training tomorrow.”

Prisma laughed, and Avery felt himself blush. He muttered to himself, shifting from foot to foot.

“W-what…? What’ so funny?”

“Oh, isn’t he a riot! 11 at night is “actually late…” Well, off to bed you go then,” she said, smiling. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around!”

“... I… guess so…?”

Kade chuckled, shaking his head.

“Stay here, my partner in crime,” he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead, “I’ll be back in a jiff.”

The two walked back to avery’s room in silence. It was more due to the need to be quiet in the late hours than Avery’s inability to ask questions. He had several buzzing around in his head. By the time they were at the door to his room, he was fit to burst.

“Kade-” he started, whispering, but was stopped by a claw over his mouth. Tomorrow, kade mouthed. Avery huffed, but reluctantly nodded. He slipped back inside his dark room, and fumbled for his bed.

He lit a small fireball, letting it float in the air by his bed, then got into his night wear. He flopped onto his bed with a sigh. There had been so many questions left unanswered by kade’s spontaneous night visit. Things like, how long had he had a girlfriend? Why was she a spy of all things? Who else knew about her? Why had this happened so suspiciously close to the ball? Why wasn’t Kade worried about how easily a spy could get into their kingdom, especially at a time where Nthenda’s power was so ominously growing in the distance?

Then again, she is a Ranomasib spy, his brain chattered as he slipped under his blankets, relations with that kingdom are always good. And princess glacia never seems too troubled to share stuff with that prince Zander guy.

It’s just prince Squall that we really have to worry about.

He shivered, tugging the covers closer.

Prince Squall Derecho Gladeness. Nthenda’s current and most dangerous ruler.

Just the name was enough to make people glance over their shoulder. He certainly didn’t need to be thinking about the yellow-eyed dragon before bed. And not just because of the dumb rumors about him coming to get you while you slept. Those were for babies. It was because it send his mind down paths he didn’t want to go. Paths where he had to go onto battlefields while he was still in his squire’s garb. Where his friends were sharp-toothed and red eyed. Where he felt himself forced into hurting people he cared about by some evil black cloud.

He whimpered softly and rolled over. It was just best not to think about Squall at all. He reached out and extinguished his ball of purple fire. He had training in the morning, so he figured he’d better get some sleep.

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

Avery tossed and turned in his bed. He slept fitfully for a couple hours, but when he woke up for the tenth time in thirty minutes, he gave up on trying to stay asleep. He sat up, running his paw through his messy fur. Stupid Nthenda. Giving me nightmares and bad thoughts, he grumbled mentally.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, gently placing his feet on the floor. He shuddered softly. The stone floor was cold against the pads of his paws. He summoned in a fireball, gently tossing it up so the purple light would illuminate the room. He tiptoed over to his desk, crouching down to pull out a box he kept under it before hopping back into bed. He stuck his feet back under the covers. They were warm, and would hopefully warm up his feet after the small walk on the frozen flagstones. He hated being cold…

Opening the box, avery twitched his paw to bring the fire closer. He rifled through it, searching for something… Pebbles, small flasks of different liquids or spell scrolls, a couple gems… there. He gingerly lifted a ribbon out of the box. Setting the rest of the contents back inside, he put the box on the floor. A quick shove sent it sliding over the floor to rest under his desk once again. He turned his attention back to the ribbon.

It was a gentle shade of red, the kind you would see from a rose or the sky as the sun sets. Avery smiled to himself as he remembered the day Krystal had given it to him.

It was after they’d been friends for about a year. They’d been talking about the different things they liked to collect and keep, as they were out in the creek looking for different feathers or stones or cool looking plants to decorate their tree fort with. He’d mentioned how much he didn’t really collect any one particular thing, and how she was confused. He remembered laughing at the expression on her face before telling her about how he liked keeping all the little things his friends gave to him in a box. Explaining how each thing he had was a reminder of what his friends liked. Of what they meant to him and what he meant to them by what different trinkets they’d give him. He remembered her soft laugh… her kind smile… how she’d reached up and untied one of the red ribbons around her ear to give to him… how their paws had brushed, and they’d laughed it off…

Avery shook his head slightly to bring himself back to reality. The slightly-faded ribbon had been in the box for six years now. And what wonderful years they had been. A jesc hooted softly outside his window. He yawned. It was still late, and he needed to sleep. Squall or no Squall.

He tied the ribbon around one of his horns, then laid back down on his bed. He dropped off to sleep, dreams of laughter and playing in the fields dancing in his head.

[spookyboywhump]

5. What kind of clothes is your oc most comfortable wearing?

6. What kind of clothes is your oc least comfortable wearing?

For Zander, Wren and Cain

15. What’s your oc’s morning routine like?

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

For Cain

Ooooo

5.

Wren: He likes really simple, comfy clothes. He mostly wears jeans and t shirts, and he always has some sort of hoodie or sweater on, in fact after getting out of Cain’s, he almost never wears short sleeves. He tends to wear really plain, cool colors, lots of blue and grey and black. His hair is usually the most colorful thing about him.

Zander: He wears lots of dark colors, t shirts and jeans and heavy boots. He always wears a jacket and his collar of course, but at home he usually dresses the way he did living with Cain, loose shirts and sweatpants all the time.

Cain: He’s very particular about his clothing, he’s always dressed well in expensive clothing, and he hates wearing anything that shows his arms, he’ll only reluctantly roll his sleeves up when it’s hot out or he’s at home. He is a lot more relaxed at home and he’ll wear more comfortable clothes, but he refuses to be seen by anyone other than his dogs that way.

6.

Wren: He doesn’t like revealing clothing pretty much At All, and he really hates wearing certain textures, wool and velvet make him angry and uncomfortable. He also has a weird thing about wearing shoes that aren’t red, he refuses to do it (and causes several fights over it in the BTL)

Zander: He doesn’t like formal clothing, he just feels weird and uncomfortable about it. A part of that is that he really dislikes wearing ties.

Cain: Anything revealing, anything too flashy, anything “cheap”, it’s more a matter of how other people see him than what he actually likes.

15.

He usually wakes up pretty early, he makes breakfast and sometimes feeds the boys before getting a shower and getting ready for work. He typically leaves the house about the same time nearly everyday

16.

On a normal night where he wasn’t at the fights, he has a pretty basic routine, a whole shower and skin care routine before bed, he’ll usually stay up around an hour in bed just reading or watching TV before turning in for the night. The fights do interrupt this, as he usually gets home and after putting the boys away for the night, he tends to pass out on his bed still clothed.

[spookyboywhump]

Daniel

I wanted to write some things about Zander before Wren came along, early on in his time with Cain, so here’s the very beginning. I plan to write several things like this but mostly not chronological, though this one and the next one planned are directly connected, and probably the only ones that will refer to him as Daniel still. 

TW for guns (well, one)

***

 “So uh, what made you want this one so bad sir?” A voice asked, and Daniel winced at the sound. Everything was too loud right now, the voices around him, the hum of fluorescent lights, the click of a lighter. He wished it would just stop for a moment.

 “With his father out of the picture, the poor boy would need somewhere to go. I thought I’d put him to some good use.” Footsteps approached him, Daniel groaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold. He wished his head would stop pounding so he could think straight. 

 “Of course… er, what kind of use do you want him trained for, sir?” A different voice asked, this one more feminine. He tried to pull away when the footsteps stopped close to him, but a hand tangled in his hair and forced him to sit up, causing him to whimper behind the cloth shoved between his teeth. The blindfold was removed, he squinted as the bright lights overhead nearly blinded him. His vision wasn’t quite clear yet, he couldn’t make out the face of the man holding him. Now that he was sitting up on his own, the man released his hair, grabbing his chin instead. 

 “Just general use. He’s a pretty thing, but I don’t think Cain will want him for that.” The man said casually, turning his head side to side as he inspected his face. 

 “Yes sir.” She replied. “We’ll keep you updated on his progress, he should be ready within the next few months.”

 “The next week, actually.” He corrected. Daniel was finally able to get a good look at him as his eyes adjusted. He was vaguely familiar, he swore he’d seen his face before. He was a somewhat older man, dark haired with icy blue eyes, a cigarette in his mouth. Daniel decided he did not like the way he looked at him at all. 

 “I’m sorry, excuse me?” The man standing behind him asked. There was a woman next to him, she gave him a look when he spoke up.

 “The next week.” He repeated. “I want him ready in that time.” He let go of him finally, taking the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling smoke right into his face, almost sending him into a coughing fit. 

 “With all due respect sir, that’s impossible.” The woman said. “It will take at least a month to even break him, more than that to properly retrain him.” 

 “And I want it done within a week.” He said sternly, finally getting to his feet. “I’ll be back for him then, so you better get started.” He told them, walking past them to the open door. 

 “Yes sir.” She said, and the man echoed her, though he seemed less pleased about it. They waited till the door was shut and the man was long gone to speak up again though, talking as if Daniel wasn’t even there. 

 “Fucking son of a bitch… just because he orders it doesn’t mean we can make it happen!” The man said, clearly frustrated.

 “We’ll have to try.” The woman sighed, arms crossed over her chest. “We’ll start on him now and see how far we get within the week. Whitaker might have to take him as is though.”

 Whitaker, there was a name he knew. Of course he’d recognized the man’s face, well known businessman, probably the richest person in the city, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of the richest in the world. He didn’t know a whole lot about him, he knew his father hated him though, talked about how he was a “terrible fucking bastard”- and his father didn’t swear often. He wouldn’t go into detail, told him it was one of those “I’ll tell you when you’re older” kind of things, but Daniel didn’t really know how much older he’d have to be given he was already eighteen. He tried not to think too hard about his father right now, as terrified as he was, he didn’t want to cry in front of these strangers. 

 He was confused, and awfully anxious, and he wanted answers, but he only got more panicked when they finally turned their attention to him. The woman approached him, kneeling down in front of him and putting her hands on his face. 

 “I’m going to remove the gag. Can you promise you won’t start screaming at me?” She asked calmly. She seemed like she’d done this a thousand times before, the thought turned his stomach. He nodded quickly though, thankful for the tiniest bit of freedom. She reached behind his head, untying the cloth and pulling it from his mouth. Despite the gross, dry feeling in his mouth, he immediately started talking.

 “Where am I? And who are you? What- why am I here?!” He asked, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady. 

 “Calm down, pup.” She ordered, and though he hated what she called him he did shut his mouth. “You were a special request from Mr. Whitaker, we’re going to get you ready for him. If you can learn to behave, this training should go smoothly, understand?”

 “What… what do you mean by training? What am I being trained /for/?” He asked. He knew he needed to stay calm enough to get some answers, freaking out would get him nowhere. 

 “To be a good dog of course.” She said it as if it were obvious. “You’re a gift actually, for his son. We need to make sure you turn out perfect.” Each word just made him sicker, his heart hammering in his chest. None of this made sense, why him, what did she mean by “dog”? He wanted to keep shooting off questions but she didn’t seem interested in hearing it. “Sam, would you get the collar for me?” She asked, and the man did as she said, going to a table pushed up against the wall. He came back with an odd silver band, and he caught sight of two prongs on the inside of it. He handed it to the woman, but as soon as she got close Daniel pushed himself away from her. She looked almost disappointed at that. “Now hold still, there’s no use running.” She told him. 

 “I’m not wearing a fucking shock collar!” He yelled at her, eyes wide with fear. “I’m not a fucking animal!”

 “You are though. You’re nothing but a dog, a stupid little pup and we’re going to have you trained to be a good boy whether you like it or not.” She motioned to the man with one hand and he grabbed ahold of Daniel by the hair, holding him in place. The woman got close to him again, still on her knees though and he took this opportunity to defend himself. His wrists may have been bound but his ankles weren’t, and as soon as she was close enough he kicked hard, his foot hitting her square in the nose. 

 It felt like a small victory to him when she cried out, jumping to her feet before she could lose her balance. She held a hand over her nose at first, but when she pulled it away he saw she was bleeding profusely. He was satisfied until she recovered from the shock, her eyes narrowing. 

 “You shouldn’t have done that, kid.” The man sighed, his grip on him tightening. She seemed to disregard the bloody, possibly even broken nose, and stormed over to that table, snatching something up. She returned with a baton, the kind he’d seen police carry. He didn’t have a chance to brace himself before she cracked him across the face with it, he swore he blacked out for a moment as pain exploded in his jaw. 

 Now that he was thoroughly stunned she forced the silver band around his throat, locking it in place despite his struggles. He was finally released now that it was secured, Sam coming to stand by the woman while Daniel pushed himself farther back from them, his back hitting the wall. She seemed like she was struggling to control herself, looking at Daniel with a fury in her eyes that genuinely scared him. 

 “Give him five shocks while I go clean up, understand?” She ordered him, handing him a small remote before turning around to leave the room. His stomach dropped when she said it, his only experience with being “shocked” aside from static shocks was one of those joke pens his friend had zapped him with a few times. He had a feeling this would be so much worse though. 

 “I’m surprised she didn’t wanna watch.” Sam murmured, looking over the small remote even though it only had one button on it.

 “W-wait! Please, please don’t, I- I can’t-”

 “Too late. Shouldn’t have tried to fight back.” He shrugged. “Hopefully this will teach you a lesson.” With that he pressed the button, Daniel’s body seizing painfully as the electricity shot through him. His scream was almost strangled, he couldn’t even think through the pain. It ended just as quick as it started though, he slumped back against the wall and tried to catch his breath. “We’re not done yet.” The man reminded him.

 He screamed even louder on the second shock, and on the third his jaw locked shut, he involuntarily bit down on his tongue which only added to the agony. On the fourth he swore this would kill him, he was surprised to even make it to the fifth. Sam let the final one last a little bit longer, turning it off as the woman returned to the room. Daniel was choking back tears at this point, he refused to cry in front of them but his tongue was bleeding and his whole body ached from the shocks, not to mention the pain in his jaw. He didn’t see the point in all this, but he was also too afraid to keep asking questions. 

 She looked at him, taking in the sight of him almost cowering against the wall, blinking back tears as he watched them, and she grinned.

 “I suggest you get used to that collar you fucking mutt.”

 ***

 “My name is Daniel Alexander King… I’m eighteen years old… I am not a dog…” He murmured to himself, over and over again as he tried to stay sane.

 When he wasn’t being tortured in the training room, they left him alone in a pitch black cell. He hadn’t slept once since he’d woken up here, whatever they’d injected in him made sure of that. His eyes burned and his head hurt, even bound behind his back his hands were shaking. Sam and that woman- who he learned was named Andrea- had been trying to drill it into him that he didn’t have a name, that was up to his “owner” to decide, and he refused to give in to their brainwashing. He figured that talking to himself, and repeating phrases over and over again wasn’t exactly the most “sane” thing to do, but it made sure he didn’t forget who he was, and that was most important to him. 

 The worst part about being kept awake was that he wasn’t able to ever escape his own thoughts. He replayed the scene in his head over again whether he liked it or not, returning to his house late and finding his father, dead on the floor, he couldn’t get the sight out of his head, there had been so much blood. He couldn’t remember if he had fainted or if he’d been knocked out, all he knew was that he blacked out around then and woke up here, wherever here was. He knew there were others apparently, but he was getting “special treatment” since he’d been requested by Mr. Whitaker. Apparently he was paying good money for him and it made him miserable to even think about that, being sold like an object to somebody. 

 All of this seemed so unreal to him, days ago he was a perfectly normal person. He’d spent the whole day out with his group of friends, he had plans for the whole summer before him and his friends split off to different schools, he was supposed to move across the city to live with his mom, he was supposed to start school in the fall, he had been so excited to get into his top choice for college, and all of that was just gone. In a matter of hours it had been ripped from him for no reason and while he was scared, and anxious, and upset, he was more than anything incredibly fucking angry. 

 Maybe it was the stress and lack of sleep that was irritating him, making him angrier than he’d ever been in his life. He shouldn’t be here, he knew he shouldn’t, no one should, and the helplessness of the situation was just upsetting him more, to the point he could almost cry. At least, he could if he hadn’t already cried himself out completely in that dark cell, his sobs had bounced off the cement walls, the only sound to keep him company until he finally couldn’t cry anymore. 

 His eyes burned, and his head was pounding. He was exhausted, cold, hungry and scared, and he just needed to stay sane.

 “My name is Daniel Alexander King… I’m eighteen years old… I am not a fucking dog…”

 ***

 His week was up and he wasn’t quite sure what would happen now. Mr. Whitaker wanted him broken and trained to perfection, and while he was different now, he was probably even worse than the man would’ve wanted.

 A week of beatings, electrocutions, sleep deprivation and starvation had not made him obedient and docile. It had only made him angry. No matter what they told him, no matter what they tried to take from him, he resisted with everything he could. What did he have to lose? Mr. Whitaker wanted him specifically, they wouldn’t kill him and risk upsetting him, so he made it as difficult as possible to train him. He knew it would only hurt him more, but their frustration was just another small victory to him. 

 His week was up and he now sat on his knees, staring at the papers before him. His hands would only be freed if he agreed to sign them and “willingly” go with Mr. Whitaker. Apparently it was more of a formality thing, he felt like it would be used against him later though. They wanted it done before Mr. Whitaker arrived so they could quickly be rid of him but he had stubbornly refused, sitting there silently and staring at the floor. 

 Both of them seemed anxious, Andrea more frustrated than Sam though. She was pacing the room, occasionally looking to Daniel and asking if he was ready to give in. The answer was always no.

 “This wouldn’t be a fucking problem if he had given us more time!” Sam groaned, running a hand through his hair. “We told him it was impossible!”

 “I didn’t expect him to be this stubborn.” She sighed, once again speaking about Daniel as if he wasn’t even there. “The stubborn ones always get worse before they get better, and he’s stuck at his worst.”

 “Try explaining that to Whitaker, I don’t think he even cares about the risk.” Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s his damn fault we couldn’t get it done, I guess he’ll just have to take… that.” He motioned to Daniel who scowled at him. 

 The three of them were all startled by the knock on the door, Sam and Andrea sharing a look before it was opened, Mr. Whitaker entered the room. That fear was creeping up on Daniel again, something about this man made him terribly anxious, there was just something wrong with him, aside from everything going on here that is.

 “Well, is he ready?” He asked, looking between the two.

 “He’s… well…” Sam started, but Andrea interrupted.

 “We need more time sir, please. He’s nowhere near ready and he’s going through the more stubborn phase. He’s not going to sign those papers and he’s not going to go easily.” She explained. He expected some kind of anger judging by how they were acting, but Whitaker just sighed, approaching Daniel specifically now. 

 “Honestly, what did I even pay you two for…” he murmured, stopping in front of where Daniel sat. “You, mutt. You’re going to sign those papers, and then you’ll be leaving with me, understand?”

 “No I fucking won’t.” Despite his fear he kept his voice steady, looking him in the eye as he spoke. He saw a flash of something on the man’s face, amusement almost, and he reached to his hip.

 Daniel had never seen a real gun up close before, and now there was one pressed against his forehead. All at once that defiance disappeared, fear almost strong enough to stop his heart replacing it. His eyes went wide, he hadn’t considered the thought of Whitaker killing him. He had even less to lose than Daniel, if he killed him he could just find another victim, throw somebody else at his kid, Daniel was just unlucky in this situation. 

 “Let’s try this again.” He said, a sickening grin on his face. “You’re going to sign those papers and you’re going to leave with me, or else you’re going to end up just like your dear old dad. It’s your choice I suppose, but you better make up your mind fast.” 

 Daniel didn’t want to know what waited for him if he agreed to this, but he also really, really didn’t want to die. The thought scared him more than anything, and right now that was the only alternative. Right now, that is. If he agreed, he reasoned, not only would he be spared, but maybe he’d find a way out of all this. He’d find some way to escape, or call for help, just something other than death. It would be stupid to refuse at this point, he’d defied them all as long as he safely could and now he had to give in. 

 He told himself it was because it was the smart thing to do, because he would surely escape whatever hell was planned for him, this would not last forever. He told himself this and tried not to focus on the pressure against his forehead, meeting the man’s eyes as best he could.

 “Okay. I’ll sign.”

[spookyboywhump]

If you wanted asks for the character development questions: 017,029 for Wren; 031, 030, 023 for Zander; 099, 072 for Cain; and 039, 019, 098 for Vanessa?

OHOHOHO I wanted asks for them alright

 Thank you anon, here we go! 

Wren:

017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?

Probably in more situations than he should. He thinks that violence against Cain would be very justified given all the shit he puts them through, he thinks that Zander attacking Clement is justified, in general if somebody has personally wronged him or somebody he cares about, he probably thinks violence is deserved. At least a little bit. 

029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have?

 I always pictured him having a very dry sense of humor, though he’s also one of those people who would find stupid internet memes to be the funniest shit ever 

Zander:

023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically?

He thinks blue eyes are very attractive, and he also really likes lighter hair colors. He likes tall boys, and he thinks freckles are really cute, no matter how faint they may be. He’ll fall hard for anybody with a pretty smile too. 

030. Do they believe in the afterlife?

 He believes there’s some kind of afterlife, he doesn’t necessarily believe in heaven or hell though, or at least, not in a religious sense 

031. Are they superstitious about anything?

 Zander is so superstitious. Breaking mirrors, walking under ladders, putting shoes on a table, cutting tags off clothes while still wearing them, ect., he doesn’t mess with any of that, and would like it very much if the people around him didn’t mess with it either. 

Cain:

072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)

 He gives me sorcerer vibes specifically a dark elf sorcerer. Yes I’ve thought way too hard about all of my oc’s classes and races. Don’t judge me.

099. Do they talk to inanimate objects?

 When he’s alone, definitely, though I’m sure by now Zander has witnessed this at least once or twice.

Vanessa:

019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?

Hmmmm she strikes me as someone who would want cool fire superpowers. She would think that’s neat as hell and also, red imagery important for Vanessa

039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?

 Vanessa assumes that being killed is the worst thing that can happen to someone. As far as she is concerned, everything is perfectly fine as long as they’re still alive. 

098. Does your character like animals?

 She does not. In general she finds them annoying at best, and prefers to keep any and all animals away from herself at all times.