#i feel twitchier than normal

[parme-san]

redditors are going to think im a real freak for being so interested in spongebob pancakes and they arent going to have an answer for me. i also just accidentally slam dunked my poor frog across the floor

[the-haunted-prince-au]

Just to see how much my art had improved I redrew the chapter 1 image and WOW

You only notice you improve when you look back on your older art huh?

Some rambles about the various differences/improvements under the cut

Noticable difference #1: the mirror is round now cuz I'm 90% sure that old fancy Victorian esc vanity mirrors aren't square and that the square ones are more modern

Noticable difference #2: EVEN MORE UNHINGED THAN BEFORE- I feel like the old one didn't justify how unhinged Snatcher is as a character especially since he has a more expressive face now so I made the eyes twitchier and made that grin as WIDE as possible (specifically using the Disassembly Drones From Murder Drones as a reference point on how far it should go across the face) that plus adding what I refer to as stress lines near his left eye and mouth really sell the manic glee on his face

Noticable difference 3#: when you point a flashlight at a cat its pupils change color why am bringing this up? because I made his pupils reflect a lighter gold instead of the typical normal black once again to sell the unhinged vibes (and also because let's face it the cryptid creature tendencies never go away including weird physical traits that scare the shit out of Vannesa)

Noticable difference #4: the background felt too plain so I just added some little doodles that hint to Snatcher as well as drew a purple crown as opposed to a gold one to hammer in that this isn't the prince that everyone knows and loves (it's an emo pool noodle-)

Fun fact the scribbled out background is literally just a decently cropped image of outside of Snatchers tree

This took exactly 9 layers and I'm really proud of it

But due to the amount of layers i will share some cursed imagery

Yeah

On a better note here's the shading layers to help explain/give more detail on my shading process

I had a lot of fun with this and it really goes to show how much improvement can come out of just a few months!

@return-of-the-queen-au

[tgrailwar-zero]

Soooo… about that gas leak…

PRIEST: "Enough chatter. Saber, if you please."

MUSASHI: "Got it!"

You didn't really get a good look at her body as the PRIEST's back blocked your view as she got on the bed. You mostly just saw a lot of his back from where you were standing.

With her laying down, he rolled her over onto her back. It seemed like a massage at first, careful and intentional, before--

PRIEST: "...There."

MUSASHI took in a sharp breath as he traced his fingers down to the small of her back.

PRIEST: "You've been nearly bisected. Starting from your tailbone, and leading to between your shoulders. It's been patched, but there's some scarring to your spiritual body. Normally it would have healed if there was a consistent flow of magic to your body, but considering the state your contractors were in, that sort of concentration wouldn't be possible."

GIUSEPPE: "I did what I could. I'd have done a more thorough operation, but when I patched her up she was still partially awake, and far twitchier than I would have liked- especially with her blade hand."

MUSASHI: "Both of my hands are blade hands."

She remarked, her voice partially muffled by the bed.

GIUSEPPE: "Exactly."

The RULER retorted, grimacing slightly.

PRIEST: "And there…"

Another pained hiss from MUSASHI as he felt her shoulders.

PRIEST: "Blunt force trauma. There, some more blade wounds. You were in quite the fight."

MUSASHI: "Aw, really? Now I'm kind of bummed I can't remember any of it."

PRIEST: "Hahaha. You Heroic Spirits truly are something else. Now, hold still."

MUSASHI: "Ghh--!"

The movement was sudden. The way his hands plunged into her back like a knife.

MUSASHI: "Agh..! "

You'd expect blood.

It'd be more natural if there was blood- more comprehensible. However, the essence was more ghostly, less tangible as it touched her spirit, rather than her flesh.

MUSASHI: "…On koro koro… on koro koro…"

It was brief. Only a couple seconds in total, maybe thirty at max, but the time was agonizing. There was the sense that a weaker spirit probably would have passed out, turned the experience into a mental blank and awoken perfectly fine. The Saber-class Servant, however, was a strong spirit- which served to her detriment as she gripped the covers hard, her muscles flexing and contracting as she felt each and every second.

However, it was soon over, and she sat up. GIUSEPPE passed her the clothes, as she walked- rather smoothly, in comparison to the slow stumbling she had when she awoke and the pained limp one would expect after something like that. She draped the kimono over her body, grabbing her obi and cinching it around her waist, before turning around. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers, doing a brief spin.

MUSASHI: "Hey, look at that! I actually feel pretty good. The road was tough, but the destination? Not bad, Priest."

PRIEST: "You're very welcome. And thank you very much. Now, I have work to return to. Best of luck on your fight."

And with that, he left.

...Though not before the ASCLEPIUS ORIGIN was liberated from your possession.

There was a few moments of silence before MUSASHI put her hands on her hips, quirking a brow at you.

MUSASHI: "So, mind telling me what the hell that was all about?"

[wetbloodworm]

been trying to write somaverse posts but they're all getting too long so. we're trying. so hard to make a short one without feeling the need to elaborate for paragraphs and have five wiki tabs open

edit: this was not short but i finished it at least lmao

anyway achlys comes out of the time skip better off than a human would be after a decade of complete sensory deprivation and total isolation (plus starvation plus having his energy stolen periodically), just because he's NOT human and his kind can bounce back from all kinds of damaging shit a bit easier for a few reasons. but he's not... like... TOTALLY fine. by the time he reaches asim he's mostly calmed down and functional, dealing with remnants of mood fuckery but he's not wildly hallucinating or registering positive sensory input as negative anymore, but there's still trauma there. he's absoLUTELY not over it. it's easy for asim and the others to think achlys is fine after he settles into the friend group, because he forgives asim and immediately moves on to living a normal (for a body-stealing monster) life. sometimes he brings up his imprisonment and there's clear displeasure/bitterness there, but that's expected. it's just none of them can fully conceptualize the very literal torture that achlys experienced, or understand how his non-human psyche would respond to it. he acts like he's fine and like that's nothing more than a bad memory he complains about sometime so he's fine.

it would become obvious that he's not Totally Recovered from the experience if he encountered anything that reminded him of it too much. being restrained too much, especially if both his human body and his metaphysical true body are unable to move, or losing/nearly losing any of his senses, would be ENORMOUS triggers for him. immediate, intense panic. he will be extremely difficult to calm down and will be solely focused on freeing himself or regaining his sense(s). once the triggers are gone he mentally/emotionally recovers quickly though the human body has to deal with the adrenaline crash.

i think he might be scared of the dark after this too? mostly the pitch black kind of darkness but really the harder it is to see the twitchier and more anxious he gets.

being outside of a human host body would also be significantly more uncomfortable for him after his imprisonment, though he didn't like it to begin with. when it's just him, no host, he exists in purgatory, where external stimuli is very limited. it's not exactly the same as being trapped, but the disconnect from the mortal realm and the inability to interact with things would set his brain on fire a little bit. mmmm no thanks no thanks give him a body now immediately

one more panic-inducing thing for him is just the threat of getting trapped like he was again. not many people know how to do that, or how to deal with somaphors in general, so he's MOSTLY safe, but like. not entirely. and if he thought he was in danger he WOULD do whatever he feels is necessary to eliminate the risk.

final note related to the last one: there's also a way to kill somaphors that makes him nervous on an understandable base level plus a separate trauma level. the method is the same as how you send a ghost to the spirit realm, maybe a touch modified. somaphors physically can't enter that realm so it's like putting them in a hydraulic press. or like trying to make a human go through a concrete wall with unrelenting force. just fucking obliterates them. and achlys works with hunters and joins them on hunts sometimes, but he will turn down joining them on ghost hunts unless the planned solution is 'i get to eat the ghost'. he has not elaborated on why he avoids those hunts so everyone mostly assumes he's kinda pouty about it. no snack, no achlys. in reality he doesn't want to see the exorcism and also doesn't want his friends to know it makes him anxious. none of them know how to kill somaphors and he prefers it that way, even as he grows to trust the whole group. also maybe he's a LITTLE pouty. let him eat the ghost! boy's gotta eat! boy's gotta have his supper!

[feralmoonlight]

THE BOYS BEING STUCK AS ECLIPSE MUST BE SO STRESSFUL FOR THEM. Do you know *why* they’re stuck, or is that too spoilery? If it is, then what would the Reader’s reaction be to this whole Thing if they don’t get a proper job description? Does it take them a bit to realize Eclipse is two animatronics, or are Sun and Moon immediately panicking about that? 🌻

I mean, if you were trapped in a single room and left alone(awake) for 12 hours at a time and every other adult human you encountered saw you as little more than a fancy washing machine to be dismantled and tampered with on a whim regardless of your own concerns since the moment you came into being, you might get a bit stressed too? Constant threats of decommission, random upgrades and swapping parts on the same scale as having an organ transplant while conscious, getting ordered to parts and service because the 'new tech' wants to poke around and familiarize themself with your inner workings. CASUALLY TAMPERING WITH THE BASE AI and fucking over your entire sense of self until you manage to work with this new normal that never feels normal? There's a lot. But mostly it's just it finally got to be too much. Eclipse wasn't programmed into them. It just... Happened. And it's not responding to it's usual protocols. Because Eclipse has no programmed protocols or rules. It can hurt people. It can move around freely. It can, will, and has injured the P&S guys that tried to drag him down for maintenance. He's probably been stuck like this for a few weeks while people try and figure out that if it's someone that's obviously trying to force them to get help, they reject it. Moving into Reader's reaction~ The gist of "Help the Daycare Attendants" is vague enough. They'd know Sun and Moon are a thing from just general advertising for the plex through osmosis, like those commercials you can't totally ignore so you know about it even if it's not something you look into a lot. The first reaction of them walking into the daycare, half lit, mostly empty, and in an absolute MESS (Half destroyed jungle gyms, craft supplies thrown everywhere, some of the floor padding thrown up and some unfortunate staff bots that got sacrificed for science) it would be startling. THEN you've got this looming, jittery, MASSIVE animatronic just perched at the top of the tower, mostly in shadow, that just rumbles out this dual tone, static heavy "Go AWAY." Nope nope nope, fuck that. Fuck ALL of that. Except the employee that showed you to the daycare locked you in. HA HA HA fuck. alternate option is trying to go up the slide to the ball pit. BUT... that means getting closer to the thing that wants you out. Full on panic. But you're not leaving. Granted you CANT, you're still there. And he's getting twitchier. Agitated. Banging on the door and yelling at the person on the other side to open up, at least maybe it can see you WANT to leave. And maybe he does. When you look back up, it's gone. This isn't comforting. It takes a few hours, till the end of your shift, before someone finally comes back to open the door and you could PUNCH them. You didn't see him again, so at least that's ok, but fuck. For some reason you come back the next day, and the next. If he's just gonna hide, you'll take the free pay for dealing with this creepy ass room. Eventually it would click that the Daycare Attendants are kind of both active, in varying levels. Different vibes from the short first interactions would lean more towards an anxious fidgety Sun or a dark, dangerous, spiteful Moon. It's a coin toss on who's more present at the moment. Some days it's nothing though. Some days he just perches and hisses static at you from the tower. ON THE FLIP SIDE for Sun and Moon, they're in a really weird state. Like the AI Have blended. They're only really aware they're two AI when the swing is REALLY HEAVY one way or the other. If one goes dormant and lets the other lead while they rest (usually after exhausting their reserves). The true blend of eclipse is dual speech overlaid with heavy static, conflicting words and phrases, showing off the torrent of mixed emotions inside. The more they can split and flipflop between one or the other, the better off they'll be. If they can fully split their minds, they can undo the Eclipse state. But as long as they're so fucking stressed and distrustful, and one is latching onto the other mentally, they're stuck.

[powdermelonkeg]

Do you have any headcanons of little quirks the links have (including your links)?

ABSO-FRICKEN-LUTELY

Hyrule: Has a habit of tapping his foot or bouncing his knee when anxious. Messes up his hair whenever he's thinking, tugs on his bangs when frustrated. Just, generally messes with his hair.

Legend: Biiiig victim of RBF. Ears are twitchier than normal Hylians (Note: I like making my Hylians have expressive ears) and he tends to follow people with his ears more than he does his eyes.

Time: Takes deep breaths whenever he's irritated or stressed, has the Stare of Disapproval. Has a habit of gritting his teeth when in a fight. VERY fidgety; if he has to stay in one place, he checks his clothes over, he kicks the dirt off his shoes, he swings his sword, he double checks his shield integrity...That part's based on his idle animations in OoT.

Wind: EXPRESSIVE. Doesn't even realize it most of the time, but any emotion he feels, it's amplified a good 10x by his face.

Twilight: Rolls his shoulders a lot, brushes dust off of himself even when there isn't any there. Side-eyes rather than turning towards people.

Four: Snacks on random things without realizing it. He's walking through the woods and grabs and eats a berry, then stops and is like "wait. Why is there a taste in my mouth." Always, ALWAYS watches his feet, probably has graceful enough steps to be a ballerina.

Sky: Dozes off almost anywhere. Has an eye for shinies and a bright smile whenever he finds something cool. Gasps a lot, tends to wince before he's even hit.

Warriors: Constantly double checking things. Supplies? Check. Hair? Well groomed. Clothes? Spotless. Often gets misinterpreted as pride, but in the army, your presentation is just as important as your skill, so it's been drilled into him. Likes to whistle.

Wild: Not quite as sleepy as Sky, but can doze off standing up. Balances in weird positions; like, rather than taking a step forward onto the rock he's got his toes against, he'll just. Bend his ankles. Nobody likes looking at it.

Missing Links

Piper: Tugs at his gloves a lot, kicks his boots like Time does. Goes stiff when addressed formally.

Taps: HAS to have something to work on. Keeps bits and pieces in his pockets to mess with when bored, leans against anything nearby. Turns on and off his runes idly.

Soldier: Counts things down in his head. 5 seconds to cool off from anger, 3 seconds until he can strike, a minute before dinner's cool enough to eat...when he's in a really long/boring conversation, he'll find himself tuning it out and counting upwards.

Fox: Hands in his pockets when he's not doing something, likes to jingle coins and rupees. Blows his bangs out of his face when frustrated.

Cadenza: Almost always humming something, keeps his steps timed with the music he hears. Remembers things by music cues, so if he's trying to remember something he forgot, he'll hum whatever sound he heard before it.

Kasuto: Likes to skip and spin, can't help it. Does happy dances whenever she's excited. Stares off into space a LOT, about literally anything.

Prima: Like Warriors in that she's always checking herself over, for similar reasons. Always counts her purse because she's bad at remembering how much money she has.

Shard: Always writing. If he's not writing, he's drumming his fingers. Rubs the back of his head when nervous, avoids eye contact unconsciously.

[thegeminisage]

Ben stares at the tree, the one Sam says is holy. It’s greener than most for the dead of winter, but it doesn't look different than any other tree on Bobby's property except for how all the other trees around this one are tipped over dead. Sam flinches when Ben reaches out to touch the trunk, but Ben doesn't feel anything except rough bark under his fingertips. "Is the wood magic?"

"It's called palo santo," Sam says, his own hands tucked firmly in his coat pockets. "Burns demons on contact, just like holy water. I thought you might want to take some for that bracelet you're working on."

Ben wants to reassure Sam that this tree won't hurt him, because Sam isn't a demon. It seems like the kind of thing Dean would say. But sometimes talking about that stuff sends Sam straight into a screaming nightmare, and he's already twitchier than usual; this is the first time since Ben got here that he's seen Sam leave the house.

"Cool," he says instead. It is cool—with palo santo, plus the beads of silver and iron, he'll have a wearable monster-detector that’ll work on just about anything. "When did you guys plant it? I don't remember this being here last summer."

"We didn't," Sam says. "Palo santo is what happens when an angel dies, sort of a...living gravestone. The grace goes into the earth and things just grow."

more fun facts: 

1. the idea of ben’s bracelet (click thru for a picture) came about after a tvd marathon, when we were discussing giving him an iconic piece of jewelry like dean’s amulet. 

2. as for the “palo santo” tree - we thought, since “grace ground zero” is pure creation, it would be really cool if dead angels were responsible for giving the wood its anti-demon properties. the trouble is ACTUAL real life palo santo only grows in south america and in supernatural angels frequently die in the lower 48 (and anna’s grace grew an oak tree, not a palo santo tree). so we decided that the tree left behind would be dependent on the angel’s personality, and any anti-demonic wood would be dubbed palo santo by hunters who used it for that purpose. this tree is a wych elm, and i actually spent a ridiculous amount of time calculating the rate of acceleration in the growth of anna’s oak (how much faster it went from a sapling to a mature tree than a real life normal oak) and then applying that same rate of growth to a typical wych elm so i could figure out what stages of growth it would be at when.

3. sam is jittery here because his wall IS broken and hallucifer (the scary version, not the annoying version) IS giving him a hard time rn. just not like how it happened in canon. for a long time we collectively thought of 7.02 (hello cruel world) as the last TRULY good episode of supernatural, so we couldn’t resist using elements from it in our rewrite 

[ampleappleamble]

🍒 🔥 🥝 💤 💜 from the Jumbo Ask Game for Vaargys, please!

🍒 What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship?

Vaargys tends to expect very little from others. To him, any attention is better than no attention, although he acknowledges that he usually ends up driving others away with his chaotic lifestyle and bizarre mannerisms. Those who are as fascinated by him as he is by them tend to end up the object of his romantic attentions, if they can withstand the oftentimes odd way he shows affection. He can be emotionally demanding in that regard, but outwardly he appears to be a doormat based on his tendency to superfluously dote on his loved ones.

His prospective lovers tend to be in one of two schools of thought: 1. He has pros and cons, but maybe I can unlock his potential with the power of love ♡ (see: Axa) 2. He's an extremely powerful, intelligent, utterly insane person. ...That's kinda hot ♡ (see: Vatnir)

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

LIKES: shiny trinkets, anything he's never encountered before, sudden loud noises, blues and purples, nighttime, theater, sweets, screaming real loud

DISLIKES: anticlimaxes, greys and browns, being told what to do, inevitability, being ignored, mushy foods, hats, doing any kind of arithmetic/mathematics

🥝 What does a bad mental health day look like for your OC? Walk us through it with them. What kind of things can help them out of this slump and what kinds of things comfort them when they start to feel like this?

Vaargys was prone to mysterious visions even before he became a Watcher, and now that he's suffered them (and hallucinations, and nightmares, and sleepwalking episodes, and actual visions from the gods) for almost 100 years, he's rather used to being out of sorts even while out and about. So a bad mental health day for Vaargys might not be distinguishable from a good mental health day anymore, either from his own point of view or others'. (Maybe he's kinda sweaty, or twitchier than normal. Maybe it's harder than it usually is to get a straight answer out of him. Etc.) If he's in a bad place mentally, he generally deals with it by doing drugs, although he would probably do drugs anyway even if he felt just fine. His mind is a hurricane of bad decisions, lmao

💤 What was your OC like as a baby, a child and as a teen? (if your OC is a teen or a child, what will they be like as an adult?). How have they changed since then? What lessons have they learned and what things about their youth do they miss the most? Do they have any general regrets?

His infancy, childhood, and adolescence were pretty gnarly! As a babby, he was extremely fussy and needy in addition to having caused his mother to die in childbirth, which only added to the clan's resentment of him, being that they believe he should never have come to be in the first place.

As a child, he started having strange dreams and waking visions, suffering dissociative episodes during which he did and said things he couldn't remember that ended up predicting and preventing misfortunes in the clan. As a result, he was treated with even more suspicion and disdain, but he started to understand that he had something they didn't, something they needed. He acted out a lot as a child, making a nuisance of himself and blaming his "connection to the mystic world" for his mischief. Because of this, he also spent a lot of time banished to solitary confinement (the only punishment that seemed to really get through to him), thinking and wondering and hallucinating and being visited by spirits.

By the time he reached adolescence, he had finally pieced together that his father was the clan's priest, who was supposed to be sworn to celibacy, that his mother had been a victim of the priest's selfish will, and that everyone in the clan despised him because he was the product of an evil act and living proof of their clan's weakness. During this time, he was very, very, very angry and hurt and rebellious, as teenagers tend to be, and what better way to rebel against nihilism than to adopt absurdism? And so he spent his adolescence teaching himself how to be a priest of Wael.

Sometimes he wishes he could have had a happier, easier childhood, but ultimately, he accepts it for what it was. And is glad it's over.

💜 Music or Silence? Swords or Spells? Cities or Nature?

Music! (Anything to F I L L T H E V O I D)

Spells! (So much variety! Plus, the further away from the yucky bloodshed, the better)

Cities! (Kith and shops are so much more fun to be around than animals and trees)

Sorry this took so long! Thanks for asking about m'boy! ♡♡♡

[mystery-fic-anon]

A Sweet Treat

I got a request for horrorlust from @littlemidgetpanda, so I wrote it! I hope y’all enjoy this :)

Warnings: sex is mentioned and Lust and Horror are fuckbuddies, but no actual smut happens on-screen

Shoutout to @nugget4550 for beta reading, thank you!

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603209

Something was… off today. Lust didn’t know why, but it seemed like Axe was even twitchier than usual. He was always unsettled when he was out of his home universe, but usually when they were just in Lust’s bedroom it wasn’t this bad. He wasn’t sure if he should draw attention to it, or just let sleeping dogs lie.

Lust settled for trying to keep things normal, plopping himself down in Axe’s lap and snuggling up to him. The last few times they had been together Axe had been much more into cuddling than sex, and Lust was happy to oblige. He wasn’t touch-starved by any means, but there was something comforting about being held by Axe. He was so big, and it was nice to feel Axe’s strong bones against him—in all senses of the word, heh.

To his surprise, Axe just pushed him off. His shoulders hunched down even more, and he stared at his shoes like they held the answer to the meaning of life. Lust frowned, wondering if Axe was really alright with being here tonight.

Lust opened his mouth, but as Axe’s single blood-red eyelight turned to stare him down, he closed it again. It was clear that Axe was nervous about something, but it was probably best to wait a bit and let him decide what he wanted to do about it. After all, Lust didn’t have any illusions about his relationship with Axe. He was just Axe’s toy for tension release, like he was for every other monster who came to him. He hoped he could consider Axe a friend outside of the bedroom, but he doubted it. It sucked, but he knew how most of the multiverse saw him, especially the ones who had been in his bed.

Lust was dragged out of his thoughts as Axe pulled something out of his inventory and shoved it towards Lust. As soon as Lust had the package in his hands Axe immediately turned away, a faint hint of magic gracing his cheekbones. Lust blinked in surprise, looking between the delicately gift-wrapped box and Axe’s hunched figure. He wondered if this was a special occasion, or if Axe just wanted to do something nice.

Either way, Lust wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He quickly opened the ribbon holding the wrapping paper together, tearing it a bit in his hurry to see what was inside. He carefully took the lid off the box, setting it aside before finally looking at what Axe had given him.

A dozen perfectly rounded chocolates peeked back up at him, a familiar pink heart in the centre of each one. Lust simply stared for a moment, completely speechless. If any other client had offered him this he might have thought that they were being stingy, but he knew how much of a big deal food was for Axe. Lust would always offer him a meal after they had worked up an appetite, and the idea of being fed would fluster Axe even more than sex did. As Lust looked closer, he noticed the chocolates had little imperfections that could only come from a home cook trying to make them.

“I… Did you make these?” Lust immediately regretted blurting out the first thing that came to mind, but it was too late to take it back.

Axe mumbled something incoherent, hunching down even more. Lust hesitantly reached out, gently resting his hand on Axe’s shoulder. He kept it still for now, trying to comfort Axe without being too invasive. This was a big thing for Axe to do, and Lust wondered what exactly it was supposed to mean. It wasn’t exactly common to offer a fuck-buddy home made chocolates, and Axe must have put his whole soul into making these. Lust desperately tried to tamp down any ideas, but he couldn't help a sliver of hope coming through. Maybe Axe wanted a little more than a sexual relationship with him?

“Do you mind if I try them now?” Lust asked gently, trying to stay relaxed. He didn’t want to agitate Axe even more, so he would have to keep his freak-out internal.

Axe nodded, so Lust eagerly picked up a chocolate from the corner of the box. He held it up, examining it one last time before he carefully bit into it. The chocolate tasted heavenly, and Lust was pleasantly surprised to find that it was stuffed. Sweet cherry syrup, almost the same pink colour as his magic, oozed out from the centre of the chocolate. Lust quickly shoved the whole thing into his mouth before it could spill, moaning in delight. The flavour was delicious, the dark chocolate and cherry balancing each other out perfectly. There was a slight boozy flavour to it, so Axe must have added a bit of liquor to the filling too.

It was absolutely scrumptious, and Lust closed his eyes in as he savoured it. When he opened his eyes again Axe was staring at him, a hint of nervousness on his face. It was endearing to know someone cared so much about his opinion, and Lust wouldn't hold back.

“These are amazing, thank you darling.” Lust licked the tips of his phalanges, getting every last bit of flavour he could out. He shifted so he was sitting closer to Axe, smiling sweetly. While part of him fully intended to devour every single one of these delicious treats in one go, Lust knew a better way to enjoy these.

“Here.” Lust pulled out a chocolate, holding it out to Axe. Axe looked at him blankly, and Lust giggled softly. “Come on, I’m not going to eat these without you. Open up, big boy.”

He smiled brightly as Axe’s dangerous jaws opened, revealing a row of sharp teeth that could definitely take one of his fingers off. Lust reached forwards without fear, carefully resting the chocolate on Axe’s tongue and then pulling back. He watched as Axe chewed slowly, clearly enjoying the chocolate just as much as Lust had.

Lust knew they would have to do some serious talking after this, and he still had to figure out exactly what Axe wanted from him, but for right now he just wanted to enjoy himself. He moved into Axe’s lap again, snuggling close to him as he popped another chocolate into his mouth. He hummed in pleasure, savouring the way Axe’s face flushed. He loved this chocolate, but he appreciated the snacc it came from even more.

[aquaquadrant]

Title: it wears a mask Chapter Warnings: Minor language, nightmares Summary: Beck has a change of heart at the trainyard and takes Peter captive instead. In many ways, it turns out much, much worse. (NOT SLASH)

Chapter Seven Preview

Peter sits hunched on the bed, picking idly at the cast on his hand.

It’s been one week since the London attack. Peter knows this from the news reports. They’ve caught up to current time, now (the final death toll was one-hundred and three) so the reports are coming less frequently. He’ll go hours with the room being dead silent, then suddenly the drone will roar to life and project a three-minute news segment on his wall before blinking out again.

People are moving on, it looks like. After all, the ‘villain’ was taken down, no loose ends left, and overall it was considered a win despite the casualties and destruction. The world has other things to look at now, Peter imagines. That’s natural. That’s human.

He would’ve expected himself to feel relieved that people are moving on. That the news reports have stopped. They were hard to watch, hard to hear. But the absence of any sound, movement, or color in his cell is stark, and hits him much harder than he would have anticipated.

How twisted, that he’s been made to wish for bad news if only to take the edge off his isolation.

In the past few days, Peter has spent most of his waking moments either trying to sleep, or pacing. He doesn’t get much sleep at night because the cell is pitch black and that sets him on edge. The scattered naps he manages to take during the day don’t feel like enough to shake the weariness from his bones.

Despite his tiredness, he paces. He has to, to have something to do. The cell is a perfect square, he’s found. Five steps from wall to wall in any direction. He’s all but memorized the sound his own feet make on the concrete floor, muffled by his socks but feeling much louder than they ought to in the otherwise silent cell. It beats a rhythm in his skull when he paces, and he’s grateful it gives him something to focus on.

He feels twitchier than normal- if there’s such thing as a normal level of twitchiness. When Virgil came in yesterday to check on his stitches, Peter jumped so bad he hit the ceiling. Literally. His head is still sore.

Aside from taking care of the bump on his head, Virgil informed Peter that the reason he hadn’t heard anything from Beck recently is because Beck out travelling under a false identity. Something about conducting some shady business he wants to keep under the radar.

Fine by Peter. The less he has to listen to that guy, the better.

Except now he has no one to ask whether MJ and Ned are doing okay. Whether May is doing okay. Or how Queens is doing without him there to protect it; his school, his neighborhood. It kills him, not knowing. And if Beck was here maybe Peter could ask for some time out to stretch his legs, and figure out if the itch beneath the skin of his wrist is because of his cast or because he’s never gone this long without using his web shooters.

The people who bring him his meals don’t answer his questions, and even if Virgil would tell him, he doesn’t know. So, Peter’s left wondering and pacing, and almost wishing Beck would return already, which feels terrible because he hates Beck but it’s his only way to get answers.

Peter knows he’s in dangerous waters. It’s as clear a trap around him as concrete walls; isolating him in every sense of the word, making him solely reliant on Beck… it’s deliberate. Everything about Beck lends to the notion. He’s the kind of person who’s had his moves planned out before even starting the game. But the scariest thing is that Peter has no idea what end Beck is playing at.

It still haunts him, not knowing why Beck spared his life. On the surface, Beck’s motives are clear; he wants to be a famous hero, to gain power and notoriety. He’s already well on his way, and he doesn’t need Peter to do it.

Even using him to threaten Ned and MJ isn’t strictly necessary. Beck could easily just kill them, as much as Peter shudders at the thought. The fact that he hasn’t, and instead went through all this effort of keeping Peter locked up… it means Peter doesn’t truly know his enemy, and that’s a bad place to be.

Seeing as how he can’t fight, and he can’t escape, his only option is to play along. That’s scary, too. Peter knows what Stockholm syndrome is. He knows it can start setting in as early as three days in, and he’s been here almost a week.

And every second he’s here means that there’s no one stopping Beck’s scheming, and more and more innocent people are put a risk. Beck’s already caused so much damage, but Peter can almost sense an invisible clock hanging over him, counting down the days until enough damage is done that he can’t come back from it.

Peter thinks back to everything he’s heard about Tony’s kidnapping in Afghanistan, so many years ago. In all the time Peter knew him, he never worked up the courage to ask about that time, to ask how he managed not to lose hope during his long captivity.

Peter’s really regretting that now.

The drone roars to life, and Peter gives a violent start, his heart pounding and tremors running through his body. A projection flickers onto the wall, and the voice of the news reporter he’s gotten so familiar with starts to talk. Another report on the London cleanup. More talk of destruction, all the dead and misplaced people.

Peter tips his head back against the wall and blinks away tears.

~*~

Beck wakes up to Edith’s voice.

“Herod has reported that target is experiencing extreme distress.”

Blinking awake, Beck sits up and fumbles for the glasses on his bedside table. The hotel room is pitch black, the only light coming from the digital clock that he accidentally smacks off the table. It clatters to the floor, where the time ‘2:54 AM’ beams up at him.

Beck manages to get the glasses on his face without poking an eye out, wishing for the convenience of his suit. But travelling incognito requires discretion, and the glasses are the most casual, easily concealed host he has for Edith. Maybe he ought to hook her up to one of those smart watches, the glasses aren’t really his kind of look.

“Define ‘distress,’” Beck mutters, rubbing his face beneath the glasses.

“Target is unconscious, heart rate is dangerously high.”

Shit. “Project Herod’s feed over my view.”

“Projecting feed.”

Before Beck’s eyes, Peter’s room comes into view. The gray-scale image tells him the lights are off, and Herod is recording using night vision; it’s late, even with the time difference between them. Peter’s in his bed, but it takes a second for the image to clear up because he’s thrashing around so much.

For a heart-stopping second, Beck thinks Peter might be having some kind of seizure. But then the audio kicks in, and he hears Peter screaming. It’s a wordless scream, and it writhes, pitching up into a wail and dropping down into a sob between breaths. It’s an electric jolt to Beck’s senses, where moments ago he’d been barely awake, he now feels like he’s been drenched with ice water.

“Put my voice through,” Beck orders Edith. “Peter, can you hear me? Shit, Edith, increase volume by five- Peter, wake up, can you hear me?”

Finally, Peter stills. He pushes himself upright, chest heaving for breath. Tears are still running down his face, and- oh goddamn it, he’s worked a couple stitches loose from his wound. There’s a panicked, hazy look to his eyes as he glances around. Must’ve been some hell of a nightmare.

Beck lets out a breath. “Jesus, kid, don’t scare me like that. I get woken up at 3 AM to find you’re practically sending yourself into cardiac arrest. Jesus christ.”

Peter blinks a few times, confused. “Beck?”

“Yeah, who else?” Beck huffs.

“Oh god.” Peter covers his face with his hands, and Beck can see them trembling. “God. You- you were alerted just because I w- was having a bad dream? What the hell.”

“Language,” Beck chides, just to spite the teen. “And yeah, Herod is monitoring your physical state just in case you try to escape or come down with a sudden affliction. It can’t really differentiate you freaking out over something like this, though.”

Peter’s still breathing fast. Every couple of seconds, a sudden twitch seizes his muscles. “I wasn’t freaking out, I- I was just- why do you even care?” He looks torn between horror and accusation, between being frustrated with Beck for seeing him like this, or frustrated with himself for being like this in the first place. “Why do you- you didn’t h- have to wake me up, you could’ve just ignored it. I’m sorry, I- no, just forget it.”

Before he’s even finished speaking, Peter’s stumbled out of bed, shaking off the sheets twisted around his leg and staggering his way towards the bathroom. He almost throws the door closed behind him, the bang echoing in Beck’s ears.

“Well then.” Beck leans back against the headboard. “Edith, go ahead and close the feed. And uh, ask Herod to put a little light on. Nightlight display.”

“Command received.”

“Thanks, hun.” Beck pulls the glasses off and sets them back on the table. He runs a hand through his hair, his tiredness returning tenfold now that the sudden spike of adrenaline has passed.

Alright, so something’s gotta change. That’s abundantly clear to Beck now. For the past several days, the daily reports on Peter have mentioned increased agitation- restless sleep, pacing, fidgeting. But this was just extreme. And yes, sure, technically Beck shouldn’t care if Peter’s screaming himself awake at night because he’s a prisoner, and Beck could just order Herod to ignore it. And it’s not like Beck has shied away from hurting Peter before- both physically and emotionally.

But he also knows that there’s got to be a purpose behind it. Getting Peter to blame himself for the London attack? Useful. Making him feel responsible for his friends being in danger? Useful. But letting him live in this twitchy, tortured state? Not useful. Quite dangerous, actually, because an unbalanced Peter is an unpredictable Peter.

If Beck had to hazard a guess, it’s the confinement driving Peter to the edge. That makes sense. Any normal person would get twitchy after a week cooped up, but a superpowered teen who’s used to swinging from buildings… yeah. Beck’s gonna have to work something out.

But… tomorrow. That can wait until tomorrow. He’s tired.

~*~

[waveridden]

FIC: dream me, o dreamer

The werewolf transformations… are not easy. This is the kind of thing that goes without saying. (An Evil Campaign monster AU, implied Blue/Zero, 1.4k)

AUcember || title lyric || read on ao3

#

Aava stops by the morning of the full moon with a black lace parasol, which is the most laughably ineffective sunshade that Zero has ever seen in his life. The shadows on the front step are weird, lacy shapes. If he looks close enough it looks like they’re moving, which might be a trick of the mind. It also might be Aava’s magic.

“This should be enough to get you through tonight.” She holds out a thermos. “And I left out the garlic this time.”

“Blue will appreciate that,” Zero mutters. The last time Aava put garlic in his full moon draught, Blue hadn’t been in a room with him for about three days, and he’d been pissed for a week afterwards. He takes the thermos - the glittery neon pink thermos. “Branching out in home decor?”

“It’s a long story,” Aava says. This could mean about half a dozen things, but Zero is distracted from all of them by the fact that the lace shadows on her face are definitely changing. It’s like the lace is… writhing. It’s very unsettling. “Let me know how this batch works, I tried something different.”

Zero pops the lid of the thermos open and sniffs it. It doesn’t smell like garlic, which is promising, but the garlic batch hadn’t smelled like garlic either. “Different how?”

“There are a couple ingredients that are supposed to heighten mental abilities.”

“So I might not just be a wolf?” He tilts the thermos from side to side, watching the sludge roll around inside of it. It’s fucking gross to look at, but he’s going to drink it. He always does. “You’d better not be messing with me.”

“It might not work.” Aava looks uncharacteristically serious. “I need you to understand, this is something new. If there are side effects, I need you to tell me right away.”

“How soon is right away?”

“Depends on how bad the side effects are.”

Zero looks back into the thermos. The sludge is definitely a little browner than normal. “Should I warn Blue?”

“I already did,” Aava says, which is surprising. Even without the garlic incident, Aava and Blue have never got along. Zero didn’t realize they had each other’s phone numbers. Or were capable of talking to each other without him there to intervene.

He sniffs the sludge again. “Is it going to be that bad?”

“Hopefully not.” Aava offers him the sliver of a smile, but he can see something grim in her eyes. “And it’s not too late to get a normal batch, if you’d rather not risk it.”

“Nah, what’s life without a little bit of experimentation?” Zero takes a tentative sip, ignoring the noise of protest Aava makes. The sludge is still earthy, but this time it’s also a little… perfumey. “Are there flowers in this?”

“There are flowers in all of them.”

“It tastes like flowers.”

“All of them taste like flowers,” Aava sighs. The lace has shifted so that the top half of her face is almost completely in shadow, with only the thinnest lines spider-webbing down her cheeks. “I have to go, I have other errands to run. Give Blue my worst.”

“I will when he wakes up.”

Aava grins slyly. “Late night?”

“I took away his caffeine and made him sleep, because full moons are worse when I have to deal with that.”

She laughs out loud. “Can you tell the difference?”

“I can when I’m cognizant.” And it’s true: when he’s not in full-on animal mode, Blue tends to be twitchier when he’s fully caffeinated. Zero can’t detox him, obviously - the only thing other than blood that Blue drinks these days tends to be espresso - but he can at least delay the inevitable caffeine high. It makes a difference, maybe not in Blue’s actual behavior but in how willing Zero is to deal with him.

“Good luck,” Aava says sincerely. And he knows she means it. That’s why she makes him the draught so the transformations don’t hurt so much, so he’s a little less wild, so he feels like he has some control over the whole thing.

“Thank you,” Zero says quietly. It’s not something he says enough, but Aava smiles at him like she understands everything he has to thank her for. She probably does. “Hopefully I won’t see you tonight.”

“Hopefully not,” she agrees, and leaves. The shadows from the parasol remain on the doorstep, wriggling indeterminately before fading away. Zero closes the door. He doesn’t know what the lace thing is all about, but he doesn’t want anything Aava left behind to wriggle into his home.

#

The werewolf transformations… are not easy.

This is the kind of thing that goes without saying. There is a certain type of monsterhood that is inherently difficult. Zero has to keep careful track of the moon, and what that does to him. Blue can’t go outside most hours of the day, and he has all but banned garlic from the house. Aava has all sorts of blood pacts and secret commitments that Zero is, frankly, afraid to ask about in detail. With great power comes great responsibility, sure, and that responsibility comes at the price of power.

And Zero is powerful. Oh, is he ever powerful.

The transformations, though, those have always been hard. They hurt. They hurt more before Aava, who has ways of making them easier. They hurt more before Blue, who waited months and years until Zero’s wolf form recognized him and trusted him. Zero’s pretty sure that he tried to maul Blue more than once, but just because the guy is skinny doesn’t mean he’s not tough. The wolf fought Blue, Blue fought right back, and now Blue and the wolf have an understanding.

Zero doesn’t remember what the wolf does, not really. He knows the wolf remembers things and recognizes people - recognizes Blue, mostly - but he only remembers things in flashes. Images, not thoughts. And the wolf doesn’t know what Zero knows. He has learned this the hard way, not just through mauling Blue but through things like knocking furniture over and chewing up shoes. And killing people, which might or might not be the wolf’s idea of giving Blue a gift. He’s not sure on that.

So he’s not sure what to expect when the transformation starts tonight. The sun is already down when the moon starts coming up, so Blue is outside with him in the forest. He brought a book, because of course he did. Fucking typical, Zero thinks as the hair starts growing. He’ll be there for Zero, sure, but he’ll have something to keep him busy while he does it.

But Blue stops reading as soon as the bones start cracking. He’s watching Zero. He always watches. He’s always there. It’s all Zero can think about, as the strange non-scent of vampire floods his senses. It takes a minute to realize when he has transformed fully, because he’s so busy breathing in the scent of… of Blue.

Holy shit. He can still sort of think clearly.

Zero barks. Blue sighs and snaps his book shut. “What is it, boy? Is Timmy stuck in a well?”

Fuck you, Zero would really like to say. He’s stuck growling at Blue, who seems completely unfazed by it. He drops his book into a coat pocket and wanders over to Zero, looking completely unconcerned about the fact that Zero is a giant wolf. Instead, Zero is stuck standing as Blue gets closer, and his whole world becomes his scent and his presence and his footsteps and-

Jesus. Is this what it’s like having a dog brain?

“Bark once if you understand me,” Blue says, and Zero means to bark. He really does. But something stops him. This is maybe going to be his only chance to know what it’s like being a wolf around Blue, how Blue interacts with this other part of him. He can tell Aava that the draught worked without telling Blue that it did.

Blue sighs, not looking particularly disappointed. “Oh well,” he says, and- and raises a hand to scratch Zero’s ear. Zero would protest, but he kind of ends up whining anyways, because what the fuck, it turns out that actually feels really, really good. “Maybe next time. Well, let’s go kill a guy, I’m starving.”

Zero howls, just for the fuck of it. Blue gives him a fanged smile, and not a particularly kind one. “That’s the spirit.”

[ajay-gayle]

Watch_Dholes

Ajay was just an aimless hacker, a street rat running with a gang in San Francisco. When his mother dies and with her dying wish secures him an internship to Pagan Min's own private company, he finds himself traveling to the country of Kyrat. But everything is not what it seems, and he soon finds himself immediately dragged away from the safety of his internship and into North Kyrat's seedy criminal underbelly by a hacker faction of revolutionaries called the Golden Path. [Watch_Dogs AU] 0_1: Entry

The sun rises over North Kyrat, illuminating the skyscrapers in its gentle glow. Light reflects through the empty windows of hollow, unoccupied shells. People mill about the city, beginning their day. Most of them flock to the Kyra Tea building that looms over the rest of the city. Buildings stand cold and empty, posing more as monuments than functional spaces. The desolate streets gives the city an eerie, almost liminal feeling. There are other corporations that occupy the city, evident from the glow of neon reflecting off of the multitude of windows that make up the large structures. In the distance, the basic, barely developed plains of South Kyrat can be seen.

Pagan Min’s business influence had called major players into the city, and their companies stand in both harmony and opposition. Development had began almost immediately under Pagan’s critical eye. Not that the citizens of Kyrat wanted this sort of thing. They didn’t have much of a choice under their monarch.

A rickety bus rattles over the bridge into North Kyrat and heads for the very heart of the city.

Ajay stares out the window of the bus and watches the buildings pass by. He takes note of the strangely empty streets. It’s almost as if this one city was built for more people than there are in the whole country. He sighs to himself and looks down at the Kyra Tea intern badge hanging around his neck. Ajay is finding this whole situation equal parts uncomfortable and concerning. He knows he’s not qualified for any kind of internship or job here, but… His mom signed him up for this just before she died. Sort of like a dying wish. He loves his mom but this…. Isn’t what he wanted to do with his life. Though, it’s not like there was much of an alternative. He could have easily gotten out of it, but if he did, his mother would probably haunt him until he complied anyways. He takes his earbuds out and frowns at his tired reflection in the window. The bus rolls to a stop near the Kyra Tea building and Ajay gets out. He doesn’t bother tipping the driver: it’s a bit hard when he has almost no money, really. Along with leaving him with no money, his mother had also told him nothing about the job or the country of Kyrat. A quick Nudle search had revealed some rather unsavory things, but… this is his mother's dying wish. He’s not sure why she wanted this for him. At all. Ajay pulls out his phone to check for a wifi signal and pulls up a hacking tab on his app, Halogen, to search the area for cameras. He finds that the only building nearby that has any is Kyra Tea. He manages to tap into the network easily, despite the ridiculous amount of protection. Who needs this much protection against hacking anyways? He takes a quick glance at all the camera locations, and the feed they are receiving. Kyra Tea seems…. Exactly as a normal company should. Ajay stops at the front doors and stares up at the towering building. A scowl crosses his face. Something feels way off, but he can’t put his finger on it. He sucks a breath in through his teeth, then walks inside. He’s immediately accosted by a bright middle aged man in a garish pink suit. “Ah, Ajay! I’ve been expecting you, boy!” He claps a gloved hand on Ajay’s shoulder and smiles. “Uh…?” Ajay takes a minute to find his bearings. “I, um, I’m here for the internship. My mom-” “Yes, of course! Ishwari sent you. I’m well aware of your situation and believe me, at my side, you’ll have nothing to worry about!” The man links his arm with Ajay’s and leads him along. They pass through several very similar-looking office spaces. They almost look too similar. Ajay scans his eyes over all the faces in the crowd. All Kyrati. They wear the same uniform; a white shirt with the Kyra Tea logo and black slacks. He feels a jolt of nervousness run through him. He’s never been in a corporate space like this. Well, that’s not true. His mind drifts to the past. He remembers a time back in San Francisco when his little hacker gang tried to infiltrate a large corporation to get some info and place a damaging virus in the mainframe. It had ended with some employee getting shot after one of the twitchier gang members was startled. They had tried to run away, but police arrested them all. The shooting hadn’t been Ajay’s fault, but they had planned to make an example of him. Luckily he’d been able to fudge some details on the court records and got off scot-free. Ajay has a realization after a few minutes of being lost in his mind. This man is Pagan Min. The Pagan Min. Monarch and corporate leader of the country of Kyrat. “A-at your side? I’m just an intern.” Pagan scoffs, then looks at Ajay. “Just an intern? Didn’t Ishwari tell you?” Pagan leads Ajay down a hallway. Ajay peers into an open door and- was that blood on the floor? Pagan shuts the door in his face before he can get a better look inside. “Ah-ah. No snooping. Yet.” Pagan laughs. After taking a moment to recover, Ajay shakes his head. “Mom told me nothing.” He furrows his brows a little at the troubling new information. Thelack of information also concerns him. “Well, boy, you-” Pagan’s cell phone rings. He groans like it’s the worst thing in the world and pulls out his phone to check who it is. His expression sours further and he pulls Ajay into a fancy break room. “I need to take this call, Ajay. Don’t move, I’ll be right back. Take a seat in the room here, and enjoy the cucumber water.”

Ajay stares at the blank wall in front of him, trying to connect dots in his head. There’s something bad here under the surface. He didn’t see any evidence of it on the cameras, but of course he wouldn’t. Something is off about Pagan Min… and what his mom didn’t tell him. She had to have known about all this. He knows that was blood he saw. A few minutes of pondering pass before he gets to his feet and pulls out his phone to check the cameras again. The motion is interrupted as someone comes through the door. “Ajay?” A Kyrati man stands at the door. He’s a bit shorter than Ajay and has his hair up in a messy ponytail.  A distinctive scar crosses over his eyebrow and nears his eye, but it’s almost as if he tried to cover it up with a bit of concealer that doesn’t quite match his skin tone. He holds a hand out. “I’m Sabal. Pagan sent me to finish giving you this tour. His business will take a bit... longer than he expected.” Sabal fidgets with the pager he’s holding. Ajay can’t recognize the make or model of it, which he finds odd. Not as odd as some of the other things he’s seen so far, but it puts him on edge. Ajay takes his hand and shakes, feeling a bit wary of anyone Pagan sent. He notices the way Sabal glances over his shoulder, and the quick turn made as a security guard passes. Sabal lets go of his hand after an almost awkwardly long hold. “Right this way.” Sabal takes a second to peer out of the doorway to check for security. He probably doesn’t realize how suspicious this looks to anyone, namely Ajay, watching. He steps into the hall and waves Ajay to follow him to a nearby elevator. Once his charge is inside, he lets out a sigh and makes sure the doors close quickly. He checks around for cameras, then spots one in the corner and taps at his pager. The camera fizzles and melts a little. “We need to get you out of here. I’m sorry for being deceptive, but I’m not working for Pagan.” Sabal is not used to this type of mission or potential confrontation. He glances to the side at Ajay. Being on the front lines like this isn’t something he’s comfortable with, but someone skilled had to get in. He’s supposed to be looking for Darpan, but he can’t find any sign of him. Every camera shows nothing, and he’s checked everywhere that didn’t have a feed. There must be something that he’s missing but there’s no time to go around again. Especially not with Ajay in tow. “No shit, Sherlock. Who are you?” Ajay raises an eyebrow at him. “And is this going to get me killed? Because I’d rather not die this week.” It’s almost like he can feel Sabal’s nervousness. “I’ll explain once we’re out of here.” Sabal replies curtly. “We don’t have much time before-” As if on cue, the alarms scream to life. He dips his head in resignation. “Before… well, that.”

[sarah-wants-to-write]

I Dare You to Love; Part Two (Star Trek AOS)

Shari has settled into her role on the Enterprise, and her friendship with Jim continues to grow. Days settle into routine, though it's thrown for a loop when she finds her friend in need of help. Help Jim didn't even know he needed and in the end, a truth comes to light that could change everything.

(A/N: feel free to ignore the subtitle in the gif. It’s the look he’s giving that matters~)

        It had been a few months since the Enterprise left Yorktown, and Shari wasn’t at all surprised to find herself busy. Day in and out, studying the records of previous planetary surveys that the Enterprise had done, along with her work with Asha, and the occasional away mission. Being the only high-ranking zoologist, she had been on plenty of missions. It didn’t hurt that most were with her new friend, Jim Kirk.

        Being friends with the captain definitely had its positives, both personally and professionally. Professionally, it meant that he trusted her judgment and actions even more than if he’d just based it off her work. Personally, it meant that she’d been introduced to and became friends with many people on the bridge. Spock found her work with Asha rather fascinating, discussing his old childhood pet I-Chaya with her in confidence. Shari gladly honored his request to not speak publicly, and expressed her sympathy at the loss of a beloved pet. Uhura was a perfect friend for fun talk, along with Sulu, and Chekov was like a little brother to her. Constant conversations in Russian, with Shari switching to Ukrainian or Polish when he was getting too…enthusiastic about something, just to get the kid re-focused.

        Of course, the rare occasion happened where someone found their soul mate, and shifted.

        It was the strangest part of human physiology, according to Spock, and Shari couldn’t help agreeing. Every human, and potentially half-human, had either an animal sleeping within their soul, or a song in their heart for their fated one’s animal. When someone was trying to find their soul mate, those with the animal within would hear from them, telling them yes or no. Some were more cooperative than others, from what she had heard.

        When a pair finally met, and the shifter’s fated one was in danger, the shifter would turn into that animal. Mostly predators, though some were larger prey animals that were scary when angry. Size also depended on the age at which it happened. When the shift happened, though, the shifter wouldn’t be able to change back without the help of their mate. For that person, they had to sing or hum the song in their heart, which usually ended up being a song that both in the pair knew, which fit the two perfectly. After that, the shifter would be able to change back and forth at will, to protect their mate.

        When Spock asked what determined which in the pair would be the shifter, Shari could only shrug. It was honestly something humans had speculated on for years. Sometimes only one person was the shifter, sometimes both were, and there were many theories about it.

        Each time a person shifted, Shari was immediately called in, just in case the person was injured and wasn’t changing back any time soon. Her gentle nature and firm hand had earned the lieutenant a reputation as one of the better medics on the ship, and most crew who were able to shift came to her for help on how to take care of themselves in animal form.

        The process of shifting what something that Shari talked about with Jim quite a bit whenever he came by her lab and office. They spent so much time together that he insisted she could call him Jim when they weren't on official business. Stuck there with her work most of the time, her dear friend came by to talk quite a bit when he could. Though mostly, he came by to say hello to Asha and spoil the levytsya with attention. Shari often teased that he only liked her for her lioness.

        “Well, not only.” Jim would shoot back, smiling as they both laughed. Most of the time, they did reports together, especially those concerning away missions they’d both been on. It was nice, having company, and always good for a laugh when one of her Ensigns came by with paperwork and jumped upon seeing their Captain on the floor with Asha’s head in his lap, just tapping away at his PADD like it was the most normal thing in the universe.

        However, today was somehow…different. Normally, Shari would have seen Jim at lunch, or just around in the halls, but she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man. Working in her lab, her back to the door, she smiled when she heard the tell-tale jingle and whoosh of the door opening.

        “It’s about time you showed up, sir.” She teased, keeping her back to the door.

        “Didn’t know you were expecting me.” Okay, that southern accent distinctly wasn’t Jim.

        Turning around, Shari was surprised to see Doctor McCoy standing there, with a slight smirk on his face.

        “Sorry, commander,” she smiled sheepishly “thought you were the Captain.”

        “Then I take it you haven’t seen him,” McCoy responded, more of a statement than a question “everywhere I’ve looked on this damn ship, I can’t seem to find the man. He’s either not been there or had just left.”

        “Is everything okay, sir?” she asked, concerned that their CMO was looking for the captain so thoroughly.

        “Our fearless leader’s dodging his annual physical again,” McCoy sighed “his usual antics, which he drags most of his friends into. If you see him, please try and send him my way.”

         “I’ll shoot you a message if he stops by here,” Shari agreed “and try to keep him here so you can actually find him.”

        “Even better,” the doctor nodded “thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll see you around.”

        “Of course,” Shari smiled, nodding back as he left “happy hunting, Doctor.”

        She could hear McCoy laugh a bit as the door closed, and chuckled a bit herself, before going back to her work. Though she couldn’t help her worry now. Jim seemed fit, so why would he avoid his physical? Sure, medical anxiety wasn’t uncommon-she dealt with it herself-but he seemed like the type who would do something he didn’t like right away just to get it over with.

        Not too long later, her door opened again, and this time it indeed was Jim.

        “Afternoon, Captain,” she greeted, smiling “busy day?”

        “Just making my rounds,” Jim replied, smiling back “how’s your work going?”

        “As interesting as ever, since it’s survey study day,” Shari declared, holding up her PADD to show the report “haven’t had many visitors, so it’s been quiet.”

        Watching as Jim greeted Asha, before settling into his usual spot so she could rest her head on his lap, Shari was even more worried. Jim may have been smiling and upbeat, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Was it just a long day?

        “Doctor McCoy came by earlier,” she spoke up, watching Jim’s head shoot up to look at her with guarded curiosity “asked if I had seen you, said you had an appointment and he’d been looking for you.”

        “What did you tell him?”

        “The truth; I hadn’t seen you yet today. Wished him happy hunting.”

        Jim chuckled a small bit at the snark, though his shoulders were almost as heavy as the near-silence in the room. The only sound was the occasional computer beep or chirp as both of them returned to their work.

        “Not curious about why?” Jim asked, not looking from his PADD. Shari glanced at him, and saw that Asha was watching him too, with a twitchier tail.

        “I am,” she replied, looking back down at her own PADD “but your reasons are your own, Jim. I’m curious, but I won’t pry.”

        Jim hummed in response, and it was quite for a good while. Shari had decided not to message McCoy, deciding that her friend needed time to sit and relax. The question of why he was avoiding the doctor had almost slipped her mind, if she was being honest.

        “It started with doctor’s exams. Said that it was to make sure people were okay during the famine.”

        Shari looked up at Jim’s sudden, quiet declaration. He was looking down at Asha, petting her head, and pointedly not looking anywhere else.

        “Most think it was sudden,” he continued “a jump from coup to…but it wasn’t. That’s why he could get as far as he did.”

        As he spoke, Shari got up from her seat to sit on the floor near Jim, heart breaking as she put two and two together. She knew that Jim was a survivor of Tarsus IV, but she hadn’t expected to ever hear about it from him.

        “And after, I was in and out of hospitals for a long time,” he concluded, shoulders tense as he finally looked up at her “so….”

        “You’ve got more reason than most, then.” Was all Shari said, hesitating before reaching and putting her hand on his.

        “You don’t seem surprised,” Jim declared, eyebrows furrowing “I’ve never talked about it, so how did you…”

        “I did my homework, when I found out about my assignment here,” Shari admitted, smiling sheepishly when his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline “I’d always admired and looked up to you, and wanted to know more. When I read about what happened on…well, my heart broke, and I now really understand why you don’t like appointments or physicals.”

        The look in Jim’s eyes was strange, but Shari didn’t squirm under his stare. It was more that she felt…seen. Like he was seeing the real her.

        “Though you should probably go and get it over with,” she suggested, watching his eyes lose a small bit of the twinkle that had come back “the Enterprise needs her Captain in top form. Would it help if Asha was there?”

        “I honestly don’t know.” Jim replied, looking down at the lioness, who seemed to have the same concerned look as Shari.

        “Would it hurt?” Shari continued, watching him think it over.

        “No.” he declared.

        “Then I don’t see why she shouldn’t go with you,” she replied, shrugging a bit “I’ll go as well, say I have to talk to M’Benga, so Doctor McCoy doesn’t question it too much. Could say it’s part of my work with Asha, as a potential comfort animal in the Med Bay.”

        Seeing she was offering him the choice, and a good-not to mention truthful-cover story for the situation, Jim was surprised to find himself agreeing.

“Okay, let’s go.”

~

        To say that Bones looked surprised when Jim walked into the Med Bay was an understatement. Shari walked in right behind him, and Jim watched as she went straight to M’Benga to talk. Asha stayed right by his side, though, clearly as dedicated to helping him as Shari was.

        “Alright, Bones, let’s get this over with,” he told his friend, nodding over to a bio bed “want me over there?”

        Bones could only nod, getting his PADD and equipment together as Jim went over to the bed, Asha sitting on the floor right next to his knee.

        “Lieutenant Neilson’s work?” Bones asked, nodding down to Asha as he got set up.

        “You could say that.” Jim nodded, hand going to Asha’s head to help ground his mind. This was one of his closest friends, nothing bad was going to happen. Asha was here, too, as was Shari.

       Nothing bad was going to happen.

       That became Jim’s mantra, helped by the rhythmic scratching and petting of Asha’s head during the whole appointment. Once things were done, and Bones stepped away to log everything, Shari approached with a smile on her face.

        “How did she do?” she asked quietly, gesturing to Asha, who had plopped her head on Jim’s lap in contentment from all the scritches and pets.

        “She helped,” Jim admitted, just as quiet as he gave a small smile that finally reached his eyes “draft up the paperwork, and I’ll make sure Bones gives the green light on this part of your experiment.”

        “I’ll head to my office and get started,” she nodded, smiling for him “I’m glad she could help. I hope you don’t hesitate to talk to me about things, if you need to. I promise I’ll listen. It’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

        Jim’s smile grew, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze as he nodded, before Shari woke Asha up. She bid Jim and Bones farewell before she left the Med Bay, Asha by her side. Jim watched as she left, heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

        Shari was a good and loyal friend, a highly intelligent scientist, and an incredibly beautiful woman in Jim’s eyes. She’d won his loyalty and fierce friendship, especially with what happened that day. Jim would rain hell on anyone who tried to hurt her.

        Deep inside, the wolf in his soul had fully woken up, and couldn’t agree more. 

[threshie]

11 Questions Tag Game!

Wow, more than one person tagged me for this. Luckily the questions change, so it’s like the Energizer Bunny and just keeps going and going and going. This round I was tagged by @starsinursa -- thank you! =)

THE RULES ARE SIMPLE

1. Post the Rules. 2. Answer the questions given to you. 3. Make 11 questions of your own. 4. Tag 11 people

Begin!

1. What is the best compliment you’ve ever received, the one piece of praise that really sticks out in your mind?

A comment from good friend of mine comes to mind, after a nice thoughtful conversation about cultural appropriation and imitating Native American tribal art. My thoughts on the matter made him re-examine his own stance on it, and after the conversation he told me, “This is why I enjoy talking with you so much. A wonderful intellect.”

2. Weirdest food/ food combination that you love?

I have food allergies and have been on the ketogenic diet lately, so my food is already kind of weird. Maybe fat bombs would qualify? They’re basically chocolate-flavored hunks of coconut oil you eat to get some fat into your diet fast. They’re actually really tasty -- like chocolate truffles you keep in the fridge. On a similar note, my favorite coffee has a tablespoon of caramel creamer and a tablespoon of coconut oil in it, melted and whirled up with a wand blender. It’s delicious.

3. What would your spirit animal/ totem/ patronus be, and why?

Good question. I’m definitely something that likes to nest and cuddle and possibly hibernate for the winter. I also like to eat meat, so maybe I’m a snake. Lazy when cold, likes body heat, likes meat. Oh, and can be considered cute, if you can look past resting bitch face. XD

4. Favorite dirty joke (or clean is fine, if you prefer)?

Oh, I’m not good at being funny. My favorite jokes are dad jokes with cheesy puns involved. Stuff like “I was wondering why the baseball kept getting bigger and bigger, and then it hit me.” and “I wasn’t going to get a brain transplant, but then I changed my mind.” Jokes about T-rex’s tiny arms also never get old.

5. If you cosplay/ ever got the chance to cosplay, which character would you be?

I have cosplayed quite a bit! 

Some characters I have cosplayed: Jill Valentine, Mello, L Lawliet, Teru Mikami (sensing a theme here?), Lithuania, Doctor Doom, various zombies, Sole Survivor from Fallout 4. 

Characters I’d like to cosplay: Emperor Hotohori, full COG armor soldier from Gears of War, Caboose from Red vs Blue (my sister would be Donut to match), some high fantasy gown with a corset and/or custom armor, Rogue from X-MEN in her 90s FOX cartoon outfit, some Marvel or Supernatural cosplay that would work with my body type and super long hair (I don’t like to be femme versions of characters unless I can wear a wig to match their hairstyle, at least,) full body painted Weeping Angel from Doctor Who so I could stand down convention hallways creeping people out. 

Making the costume from scratch is part of the fun, trying to be painfully accurate to everything. When I cosplay I am wearing my art!

6. One of your bad habits?

Shutting down my lines of contact when I’m feeling overwhelmed. I sometimes ignore my social media, text messages, emails, etc and feel increasingly twitchier each hour because I normally respond to such things immediately.  

7. A song that always makes you feel nostalgic?

The Ghostbusters theme. I used to go to a roller skating rink that always played it at a certain time and turned on strobe lights and a disco ball only for that. I looked forward to it every time!

“Darkness” by Darren Hayes also reminds me of the days my boyfriend and I went driving/listening to music at night, and would go swing on the swings barefoot at a school playground at 3 am. It makes me remember raindrops on the soles of my feet and the feel of flying in the dark, laughing along with somebody you love.

8. How did you choose your tumblr URL?

Same screenname I’ve had online for 15+ years.

9. Is love at first sight a real thing? What about true love/ soulmates?

I don’t believe in love at first sight. Fascination, attraction, yes, but you have to know a person to love them. Until you do, you just love how they SEEM to you. Soulmates seems too close to destiny -- I’m in control of my path, there is no inevitable direction I’m going to go or predetermined person I’ll be with. As for true love...if you interpret it like soulmates, then no, I don’t believe in it. I do believe that an unconditional, accepting comfort with another person and happiness from being near them is what love truly is. I’m asexual, though, so maybe my view isn’t standard on this stuff because sexual attraction doesn’t factor in at ALL for me...

10. The book/ poem/ fic that changed your life?

I couldn’t single out just one. I have been a voracious reader since childhood. Books in general have enriched my life so, so much. I you want an intriguing book that’ll make you think, check out “Looking for Carroll Beckwith.” It caught my eye at the library because the cover had no text, just a painting.

11. What is the one piece of advice that you think everyone should hear?

Would you say the things you think to yourself to somebody on the street? Would you say them to a friend? No? Treat yourself as kindly as you would treat somebody else.

Er, I already made up 11 questions and tagged 11 people last time, so I’m not going to do it again this time. Hope that’s okay. XD

[notcaycepollard]

“You’re being kinda twitchier than normal,” Seb observes after, taking Chris’ cigarettes and lighting one up, ignoring the fact that they’ve both supposedly quit. Mackie has fucked off somewhere, all nudged shoulders and meaningful glances before he went, and Chris is pretty sure Seb’s been put up to this on purpose like maybe he and Mackie talked it over, decided which one of them was gonna bring it up.

“Are you sleeping with Mackie?” Chris asks, and Seb hesitates a moment too long.

It's not jealousy, Chris thinks later, mulling it over. It's- it's true, what he said: he doesn't swing that way, isn't jealous in a way that would mean he wants either of them for himself. It's just, he feels left out, is all. Lonesome on the edges, just like always.

yes hello how was your weekend, i spent mine writing nearly 6k of evanstackie, bless this lil anxious peanut chris evans and that fucking esquire profile that did me the fuck in

[loxare]

In Case of Boredom, Break Tim.

“What do you want to do today?” Jason asked as he stared at the ceiling.

Damian, laying next to him, shrugged. “We could terrorize Drake.”

Jason sighed. “Nah. That's fun and all, but we did that yesterday.”

There was nothing to do but nod in agreement, so Damian did. “And the day before.”

“And the day before that. Actually, every day this week.”

Letting out a sigh of his own, Damian stated, “It's probably becoming routine for him. I myself am getting bored of it.”

“Hey.” Jason's hand reached out and grabbed Damian's wrist. “That's it. We could not bug Tim today.”

“Yes, we've already established that. Is the heat getting to your head, Todd, or are you always this stupid?”

The hand released Damian's wrist to smack him in the shoulder. “No, I mean, if us bugging the Pretender is so routine, if we don't go after him today, then he'll be on edge, wondering what we're up to.”

A sly grin blossomed over Damian's face. “Let's do it.”

And so it went. First, Damian walked past Tim, doing nothing but wish him a good morning. (Morning being subjective as it was already 11:53, the normal time Tim emerged from his room.) Tim, looking over his current case files as he walked downstairs for coffee, paused mid-step, then turned to watch Damian's retreating back.

Then, when he got downstairs, Jason wished him a good morning as well, and since the coffee maker was finished making its brew, poured a coffee for himself and Tim. As he left the room, he caught Tim eyeing the coffee like it was poisoned.

Later that afternoon, Jason grabbed a jar off the top shelf for Tim, something he would have had to jump to get at. Damian held the door to the Batcave open when he saw Tim was coming downstairs, rather than slamming it in his face as he normally would have.

The fun part, Jason mused, was that it wasn't even odd behaviour for them. Jason routinely pulled things off of shelves for Damian, or made coffee for Dick. Damian said good morning to Alfred and held the door for Bruce. It was just that they didn't normally do these things for Tim.

On Tim's part, he got twitchier as the day went on. He hadn't had his coffee, he jumped at shadows, and every time Jason leaned over his shoulder to suggest something for a case, his paranoia grew. Around 4 in the afternoon, Damian started practicing knife throwing, and none of the knives “accidentally” flew Tim's way.

Finally, Tim snapped. “Whatever you're doing, stop it! Stop it now! I can't take it anymore!”

Dick, who had just entered the Cave reading a case file and not actually paying attention to the conversation, called out, “Dami, Jay, don't bother Tim.”

Jason folded a hand over his heart, throwing an insulted look onto his face, “Dick, I am shocked! We haven't done anything to Tim.”

An eyebrow appeared over the papers Dick was looking at. “Seriously?”

“Tt.” Damian scoffed. “Of course not.”

“Really? No glitter? No spray paint? No knives? You didn't hide any of his things?”

“None of the above Dickie.”

Tim got a bit red in the face. “No, you made coffee, and said good morning, and held the door, and got me peanut butter.” He said every point like it was an accusation.

Dick's case file landed on a nearby table. “Tim, when was the last time you slept?”

Tim's eyes crossed a bit as he thought. “Three days, but I don't see how-”

“Right. You're obviously sleep deprived. Come on. Bed with you.” Dick started towards his second-youngest brother, who backed up a few steps.

“No, Dick, I'm fine! Please, they're planning something!” Dick's arms closed around Tim's waist and hoisted him into a fireman's carry. “They are, I can tell!” Undeterred, Dick started for the staircase. Jason and Damian grinned slyly at Tim, knowing Dick couldn't see. “Whatever it is, you won't get away with it! You can't fool me! I'll-” But Jason and Damian wouldn't know what Tim would do, because the clock closed behind him and the sound proofing in the Cave was phenomenal.

Jason clapped his hands together. “Well, that's one way to get him out of our hair? So. Wanna put itching powder in his uniform?”

“Todd you fool. Why would you feel the need to ask that?”

AN: I can’t remember where I got the idea for this. It was either Arrow or a post on tumblr somewhere. Anyways! Jason and Damian are bonding! By not bothering Tim! Hooray!