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eggscelsior · 7 years ago

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A Brief History Of Andrew’s Protective Streak

Andrew learned to do stick-and-poke tattoos during juvie. Nothing fancy; he had always been good at sketching, so his line art was crisp, and he could do shading easily enough by filling in the design with less passes of ink. It was amazing how much cooler a pubescent teen thought he looked with a dragon jabbed under his skin in blue ballpoint ink, instead of just doodled on top. That was, in fact, one of the top requests. Andrew considered it distastefully ironic - Dragon, Draco, Drake.

He was amused by the idea of stabbing “Drake” hundreds of times in black and blue. But why would anyone want that permanently etched into their body? Andrew had given himself enough marks to remind himself of the opposite: that Drake was temporary, that he could be outlasted. Andrew’s marks were carved as a distraction, dulling one kind of pain by making a fresher, sharper, controlled version. They were for endurance, not aesthetic. He covered his marks with black armbands, not filled them with ink. They were necessary but nothing to be proud of. Andrew had no urge to give himself a tattoo. But the favors he garnered in trade for his skill were invaluable.

~~~

No one had ever kept a promise to Andrew (Cass had maybe tried), and with a lack of any real thing worth living for, he’d decided to create his own value by keeping promises to others, as long as he gained something from it. Andrew made a business out of promising tattoos and following through. He was good at them. And he was good at protecting his goal, because it got him out of the juvie facility one Friday a month for “away” games.

And he might be good at protecting people, if they were people he decided mattered, and that felt…slightly more worthwhile than anything else. There was something in the concept of being needed that made living a bit more tolerable, a bit less boring. He'd hated the idea of a carbon copy brother that had been needed by the woman that birthed them in a way that she hadn't needed Andrew. He'd wanted no part of that shit. He had Cass. Aaron was not his problem. Aaron did not matter.

But then Drake had gotten interested. "Let him visit." "I want to meet him too." "All three of us will be brothers." "Twins are every man's fantasy, AJ. "You'll look so perfect in my bed together.” And suddenly Aaron needed Andrew, even if he didn't know it. Andrew was shocked how vehemently this hit him, how important a priority it immediately presented itself as. The first person who genuinely needed him. It was up to Andrew to keep the carbon copy cleaner than the original. No one deserved Drake, and this was something only he could be relied upon to protect against.

The only way to prevent Drake from eventually convincing Cass to have Aaron come visit, with or without Andrew’s approval, was to remove himself as well. He was used to being hurt, and to hurting himself, so he could handle this loss. Cass wanted to keep him but she didn't need him, like Aaron. So he did what he had to do and landed himself in juvie.

Then he actually met Aaron. Aaron’s mouth listed off the name of some girlfriend – his identical twin was straight? Huh. – and the name of a high school and a position as backliner on the school Exy team, blah blah blah small talk, but Andrew took one glance at the long sleeves and jeans during California summer – there was the edge of a bruise at the collarbone – and the posture – defeated – and the behavior – jittery, twitchy, he’d seen too many inmates crashing to not know Aaron was on drugs that were both addictive and strong enough to kill – and he decided that this carbon copy needed continued protection, lest he end up as marked up as Andrew after all, just by someone else's hand than Drake's.

“Uncle” Luther wanted to help “save” him from juvie, but wanted to send him back to Cass. He needed to go where Aaron was, so he shared a truth that he’d never wanted to voice out loud. Luther did not believe him, immediately marking himself off Andrew’s list of people who had a chance to matter due to blood proximity. Instead he guilted a promise out of the minister to keep other children out of Drake’s reach “in case they’re as incapable as me at ‘judging brotherly affection’ and would come out just as traumatized” and drummed up a cavalry march in Luther’s meddling missionary heart to bring Andrew “home” to his “mother” and brother.

Then he called in a lot of hoarded favors from his tattoo business: “accidental” conversations held within earshot of wardens that painted him in a good light, or at least, in a bad light with the bad crowds. A staged fight that he broke up peacefully, with sharp words and sharper stares, instead of with the fists the wardens knew he was so good with and the shivs he’d only ever been suspected of having. He even had a couple of recommendations from guards that had been impressed enough with his art to get inked by him themselves.

Pristine behavior, a winning streak for the Exy team, and his list of favors wouldn’t take too long to rattle up a parole hearing.

~~~

He was out of juvie, and he was busy. He had joined Aaron’s high school Exy team to keep an eye on him; it was still difficult to pin down all the times Aaron managed to pop pills, so he required observation. Andrew had made a very pointed promise to Aaron’s mother and was arranging to keep his promise because she wouldn’t fucking listen.

~~~

Tilda was dead, finally. It had been ruled an accident, as planned. Aaron was no longer attempting to speak to him, which was fine. He did not require his brother’s approval, just his dependence, and Andrew had fulfilled the promise to protect him. Aaron’s unexpected grief over his waste-of-oxygen mother was annoying, so Aaron glowering from across the room was better than Aaron grieving loudly.

Now was a good a time as any to get Aaron sober. It wasn’t like his twin could fill any more of Tilda’s prescriptions now that she was dead, and Andrew didn’t intend to let him go questing for more sources. So Andrew locked him in a bathroom with canned food – he tossed in Spaghetti-O’s along with the soups and green beans because he wasn’t a monster – and a pillow and waited for sixteen days.

He met with the lawyer in the meantime and signed off for the life insurance payout - A. Minyard. Not a lie. He bought the cheapest cremation possible and tossed the urn on Luther's front lawn for the bastard to make funeral plans around. He bought a car to replace the one he'd made Tilda wreck and put the car’s insurance policy in his own full name. He left Aaron's off. Aaron could depend on him to drive them.

Aaron emerged silent, sober, and craving grease. Andrew drove them to Sweetie's. His twin said nothing about the car, and Andrew didn't offer the spare key of a ninety grand vehicle to a just-barely-ex-drug-addict. There was no point bolstering temptation with means and opportunity.

Then Nicky showed up from Germany. Interesting, that his brother somehow turned out straight but his newfound cousin had managed to worm a gay gene out of Luther and Maria’s chromosomes. Less interesting was Nicky being a fucking chatterbox, making up for Aaron’s blessed silence in a way that no one asked for, as well as Nicky’s complete inability to defend himself even as he assumed guardianship of the twins.

Andrew did not have time to exchange a promise with Nicky in advance, he was too busy beating these four men who’d dared hurt his cousin like they were every man who had ever laid a hand on Andrew without consent. There were a lot of those. That meant a lot of beating. He nearly lost himself in the all-consuming violence tearing out of his core, and came out of the incident with a string of therapists and a bottle of literal happy pills.

They fractured his emotions from his rationality. He spent days with his eyes opened to how amusing and engaging the world could truly be, and then slowly he started to recognize the sick feeling in his gut and the constant edge of a headache throbbing in the base of his skull to the tune of but why is it funny? It’s not. It’s not funny. Stop it. Stop laughing. Stop laughing. STOP.

He became the dead hollow space rotting out the inside of a laughing shell. Why was he living, again? Oh. Promises. Protection. That was about all his brain could hold onto firmly while he was trying to scrape the corners of his ill-fitting smile off his own face with his fingernails. Weeks of practice tamed the giggles down to silent, hard-edged smiles. He could hear the world around his own laughter again.

God, who wouldn’t he kill to stop taking this medication? His brother. He needed to be needed. His cousin too, apparently. The promise was silent but he’d already paid out, so Nicky was his now. The rest of the world could fucking burn.

Aaron was edging away, though, drowning in the misplaced grief he refused to get over. But then Aaron’s girlfriend slapped him, yelled at him for not paying enough attention to her, grabbed his wrist too hard and bruised it. Aaron’s eyes said he couldn’t hit a woman. Andrew didn’t care if it was moral or a psychological remnant of Aaron’s mother’s abuse. A new promise was forged. Aaron was cemented at Andrew’s side through graduation. Andrew broke the girl’s arm and delivered the same promise he’d made Aaron’s mother. The girl quit school.

There were several other girls. Andrew struck preemptively at each. Aaron was his now, he had promised. His to protect. Something to continue living for. Women were nothing but trouble. They turned Aaron into a useless victim. Aaron hated him for his proactive violence, but Andrew only needed dependence to give him a purpose in life, after all.

~~~

And then the fucking Sons of Exy showed up and delivered a grand invite to join the Ravens after graduation.

First of all, it was laughable that they thought he’d leave the brother he was protecting behind to play a worthless sport.

Second of all, he was solidly unimpressed by Riko and Kevin. They were obsessed with Exy, and Exy to him had started as a literal temporary escape from prison and ended up a babysitting gig for his beat up strung out brother.

And third, their tattoos were tacky, unstylized computer font numbers, and unreflective of each boy’s potential in their chosen field. He informed Kevin of this quite pointedly, detailing his lack of interest in someone determined to make a career of coming in second, and the flash of fear in Kevin’s eyes at the implication of holding himself back to second place was…not quite amusing, and only vaguely interesting. It was not his problem. Kevin did not matter.

~~~

When graduation approached, Andrew paid attention. Nicky wanted to go back to Germany. Andrew hadn’t met and didn’t trust Erik, and wanted to delay that as long as possible. Worse, Aaron wanted to run off to college and be a doctor. Lofty goals for someone with shit grades after putting the high in high school several dozen times too many. He’d still try, though. He’d end up in a community college God knows where, no longer bound to Andrew’s side via their promise.

Andrew would not survive his medication without someone to protect.

When Wymack came knocking, Andrew seized the chance and reaped profit all around. Wymack agreed to let him bring his not-great-but-at-least-experienced family along on academic scholarship, and quietly agreed to let Andrew off his drugs for games. He’d seen tapes of Andrew before and after being assigned the pills, so he knew it was to his mutual benefit.

Aaron would get into college, shit GPA or no. The promise was reinstated another four years. Hopefully he’d learned his lesson on the last set of girls.

Andrew called in the favor for protecting his cousin and waited to see if Nicky would disappoint. Nicky waffled, he called his boyfriend-fiancé-whatever to get advice, and he finally caved and agreed a business degree would be good for him.

The drugs would wear off in two years. His promises would hold a little longer. Andrew had no fucking clue what he was going to do after that, but thinking about the future was a waste of time when he spent every spare minute keeping the Joker-laugh restricted to his face and out of his sane mind.

~~~

When Kevin showed up at Palmetto at the beginning of the spring semester with a shattered hand, looking as hollow as Andrew’s own chuckling corpse, he became a thing that mattered.

He promised Andrew a love of Exy – not feasible, but if protecting his goal could magically become a worthwhile purpose, then at least he’d have something to live for after his cousin and brother abandoned ship – and Andrew promised to keep him. Kevin’s life story was vaguely interesting, and Andrew wouldn’t mind breaking some parts of Riko permanently. He didn’t like abusers of his possessions. He stole Kevin’s phone, called up the prick, and made him some promises that involved ending up as bruised and bloody as his school colors. He hoped Riko wouldn’t listen.

~~~

When Neil Josten actually showed up at Palmetto after all promises otherwise, Andrew paid attention. Neil very quickly went from something pretty and mouthy that Andrew wanted to break for something akin to fun, to something he wanted to break to keep his protective promise to Kevin, and finally to something Andrew was going to keep for himself.

Neil's lies were aggravating. Trying to pick the truths out of the lies was interesting enough to keep him engaged. They made a game out of it. Neil was cheating; half the truths he said were not 100% truth. Picking those out was even more difficult. The idea of pushing Neil into full honesty – or at least approaching the asymptote, as one could only know another human being so well – was actually…more entertaining than he wanted another person to be. It felt like power over him.

He liked his foibles to be predictable: cigarettes, 20 to a pack, consumed at a speed he dictated. Crackers, consumed per the quantity that he ordered. Not Neil, who he always seemed to want more out of. More what, he didn’t know yet. He just knew that he gave away far too much information and far too much ground to this half-lie and what he got in return was not enough.

~~~

He was starting to understand what he wanted from Neil. He wanted another Roland. Lithe body, quick wit, good for occasional sexual impulses.

Except Neil didn’t swing, so that was out. It was a good thing Neil was holding Kevin anchored in Palmetto, or he wouldn’t be worth keeping, Andrew told himself.

And yet somehow Neil kept working more out of Andrew than he’d rightfully earned. An extra secret, on credit. Allowing Neil within closer-than-typically-acceptable proximity because he liked breathing Andrew’s smoke. Halloween with the upperclassmen. Dinner with Nicky’s worthless parents.

What the fuck was he giving so much away for?

The answer danced between them for a breath at Exites. He smacked a hand over Neil’s mouth and wasn’t quite sure which of them he was censoring, but the result was the same.

~~~

Drake. DRAKE.

He wasn’t even sure he was conscious. Everything was black, but that might have been a pillow? It was hard to breathe?

There, there was the old familiar pain. He was laughing. He watched his body react irrationally from the inside out. His hollow innards were infinite, pushing out against a heaving, giggling shell that was cracking.

~~~

Aaron. He hadn’t protected Aaron. There was blood on Aaron.

Aaron wasn’t hurt? Why was Aaron touching him. Why was he being touched?

Luther. He made his speech to Luther. Words years in the making.

The fucking drugs were sucking the vindication out of his voice, replacing it with a kind of sick, casual conversational pitch mixed with inane glee.

Sirens. He took off his knives. He already felt so exposed, and it had been only seconds.

Neil was touching him. Why?

No, the scars were personal. Neil hadn’t shared his, why the fuck should he be touching Andrew’s? A promise was delivered. Neil listened and let go.

Huh.

People were talking and his head was going to split open. The drugs were winding down and he was retaining snatches of the hospital room that he didn’t want to keep. A rape kit. Why? Drake was caught in the act AND dead. Intrusive. No. He punched the orderly. He was cuffed to the bed.

Outside he grinned at the expressions on the faces of this group of men he’d kept. He wanted to wipe them all off. His. Theirs. Fuck his chemical smile. Fuck their pity. Men didn’t depend on someone they pitied, and that was all Andrew had to live for. Fuck the drugs.

Bee wanted him off the drugs. He knew there was a reason he kept her around. But…he had promises to keep, and that took precedence. He was used to pain.

Abram. He challenged it just to be sure, but it felt true. He liked truth.

Oh. Neil let Andrew touch his scars, and wow. He’d survived a fair bit, it felt like. Those were true, too. Neil promised to keep Kevin alive, even though he was so prone to running himself, and Andrew thought of the way Neil had actually let go of his arm when Andrew told him to. It was just enough to make him trust, but only barely. Only temporarily. Only in the absence of any other viable solution.

It was time to get clean. Finally.

~~~

He fell back into old survival habits under Proust's hands. In the moments Proust “worked” on him, he distanced himself, like watching something bad happen to a stranger. He couldn't look away, but it wasn't happening to him. Afterward, he reiterated the promises Proust had ignored.

He spent group sessions silent and planning how to keep those promises. He spent individual sessions talking just enough to show them he was making progress towards release. He stole the absurdly heavy tungsten paperweight off the desk of the doctor weaning his drug dosage to aid the exercises he did in his room.

He got clean.

~~~

God. Fuck. The blue eyes were one thing, the hair was criminal. This was going to be a problem. Neil was still here, and he was pretty bruised up, so apparently he’d kept his promise against something without running away. Andrew was content with that. That story would probably be more interesting than a status report on the rest of the outside world, so he put it off till last and commanded Nicky to fill him in on everything else.

~~~

Neil had gone to Evermore. If he hadn’t outright broken his promise to stay by Kevin’s side and protect him, then he’d bent it over backward and fucked it with a rusted fork. Kevin had only been safe from Riko because Riko had been too busy with Neil.

Neil had marks from his past that he’d pressed Andrew’s fingers to, marks Andrew had considered intriguing but dismissed readily enough because it was before his time, before his promise. But this. He smashed the band-aid back against Neil’s cheek, unable to look at the tattoo any longer without needing to punch something, and Neil had been punched enough in the last two weeks to account for several lifetimes.

Andrew hadn’t protected Neil from this tattoo. Andrew couldn’t, because he was getting unfucked in the head and Neil had been a stupid fucking martyr. Proust. Neil had gotten this mark for Andrew, because of Andrew.

Neil had a tattoo that Andrew hadn’t put there. Riko had touched something that belonged to Andrew. Andrew hadn’t protected what was his.

Andrew scaled back the gaping chasm of rage. He wanted to slide out one of his newly-returned knives and carve the fucking tattoo off of Neil’s face. Neil looked like he wouldn’t mind. He scaled further back. He wanted to tattoo over it. Neil probably wouldn’t mind. He scaled further back. He would not do anything to Neil’s face right now because it would cause an adverse reaction from the shitstain roosting in Evermore.

Andrew was a creature that endured. He had patience. He’d kill Riko for this, eventually. For now he needed to focus on what was in front of him. He needed to focus on Neil, on making Neil promise to at least not purposely counteract his own safety.

“If it means losing you, then no.”

Damn the boy. He threw Neil’s keys off the roof and nearly threw himself off two minutes later when Neil wrapped his lips around Andrew’s cigarette filter. Andrew didn’t want a few of his skin cells touching Neil’s mouth, he wanted his tongue between Neil’s lips instead of that cigarette.

Neil’s auburn hair glinted in the sunlight and Andrew was not happy to realize that this was going to be different from Roland, if it was anything at all.

And it wasn't anything. How many times had Neil reinforced that he didn't swing? Neil wasn't flirting with that move. It meant nothing.

~~~

Abram, thought Andrew the first time he felt like touching himself after... everything that had happened in rehab. Abram. Cute old fashioned Christian name. Neil was probably circumcised. He wondered if Neil’s pubic hair had any of that pretty auburn tinge or if it was darker. He thought about Neil's lithe runner’s body and flat stomach and he pictured touching Neil's scars in a way that would make the boy shiver with desire instead of disgust. He wanted to see them.

He wondered how many practices he would get away with sabotaging before someone thought to try sending Neil on court to bargain with him.

Two, it turned out. He didn't hesitate to make his demand. Neil barely hesitated before agreeing.

~~~

He liked touching Neil’s marks of survival, but made sure to keep his touch impersonal. Andrew wondered which of them had more scars in total. Neil’s were obviously larger, and he found himself interested in their stories. The words leaving Neil's mouth were carefully measured and haunted, but they rang true. Andrew didn't feel like he was giving away more than he was getting, this time. He was getting closer to Neil's asymptote and it felt rewarding.

~~~

After admitting his physical attraction to the walking Exy disaster he’d been idiotic enough to keep - the miniature one, to clarify between the two - Andrew went through five cigarettes and spent Roland’s thirty-minute “lunch” break in the back room making out with and then blowing Roland close enough to heaven to yank out one of God’s omnipotent fucking leg hairs, and by the time he was done he had to admit to himself that he was picturing Neil the whole fucking time.

Neil was just a shiny new toy that he was being deprived of blowing. This was nothing.

~~~

It was probably nothing, anyway. At least the one kiss was nice, before Neil had a panic attack.

~~~

The kisses were very nice, actually, and touching Neil’s cock was very nice, and Neil’s orgasm face was actually kind of attractive, and Neil didn’t touch what he wasn’t supposed to. And when Andrew finally got bored, he could always go back to effortless, no-strings Roland.

~~~

This was nothing. This would never be a this.

~~~

“Anything,” Neil promised in return for something as silly as actual effort from Andrew at Exy. He could decide what he’d tattoo over Neil’s number after they won. He had a goal to shut down.

~~~

This would never be a this because Neil was gone, Neil was fucking gone, Neil was a hollow shell saying “thank you” but meaning “goodbye” and then HE WAS FUCKING GONE—

~~~

Neil’s tattoo was gone. Andrew wanted to vomit. Andrew also almost wanted to smile. Riko’s mark was gone from his property, his Neil. Fuck everything, Neil was alive, he could think later. For now, he had to keep the FBI’s filthy hands off his Neil and take him home.

~~~

Neil lay on his back in their bed in Columbia almost a year later. Andrew smoked by the window, watching contentedly as Neil drew lazy patterns against his own shirt.

“I’ve been thinking a lot…about getting a tattoo,” Neil said suddenly, but quietly, like it was a confession. It was almost a question. Andrew’s opinion obviously mattered, though Neil should be perfectly aware by now that Andrew’s interest would not be swayed by the quantity or type of marks marring his skin.

Andrew arched an eyebrow to indicate he should continue.

"I thought I'd never want one after Riko's, but the more I’ve considered it, the more I want to memorialize certain things on my skin. Marks I choose for myself, for once."

Memorialize. So help him, if Neil wanted his mother's name they were going to have a fight. Another useless, abusive female, surprise surprise. And people wondered why he didn't trust them as a rule.

“…A pair of crossed keys. The house key and…I haven’t decided which of the car keys yet, actually. The GS was “first” first, but the Maserati was the first one you trusted to me alone.”

Oh. Andrew exhaled a long stream of smoke in Neil’s direction as he considered this, watching it dissipate as it crossed the room. “Cars and houses change. The basic shape of the two key types don’t. Don’t be so specific. How badly do you want this?”

Neil thought about it seriously. “I’d get it today if I didn’t have one major problem: I’m not going to trust some random tattoo artist to look at my chest, and I want it here.” He touched himself to indicate.

Dead over his heart. Fucking romantic. Andrew sat up from where he leaned against the window, stubbed out his cigarette, and grabbed his laptop. He pulled up a YouTube video demonstrating stick-and-poke tattoos so that his skittish boyfriend wouldn’t bolt, and then walked out of the room to gather the supplies.

Neil was wide-eyed when he made it back to the room with a bucket of gathered up equipment and pulled out a new sewing needle, a pencil, thread, tape, and ink, along with sterilizing supplies. "You're not seriously suggesting I get an amateur tattoo with pen ink and a needle."

"Tattoo ink." Andrew shook the bottle at him, and then set it down to swab his desk off with a paper towel soaked in rubbing alcohol. "Much better than ballpoint, and I've done plenty of good tattoos in ballpoint. You're not getting an amateur tattoo."

Neil scooted over to the end of the bed by the desk as Andrew lined up his supplies. “You have no tattoos.” Neil had earned the privilege of seeing Andrew fully naked about seven months after moving into Andrew’s room.

“I did it ‘professionally’ in juvie, and I was good enough that some of the guards even wanted a free tattoo done, so they got me real tattoo ink. This is a sealed bottle,” he assured Neil, tapping the lid.

Neil considered all of this. “You don’t do anything for free.”

“No. But favors go a long way in a prison.”

Neil nodded and obediently took his shirt off when Andrew flicked his fingers. He lay back down again, but tensed when Andrew disinfected the skin with brisk scrubs of an alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

"Relax," Andrew ordered. "I've done hundreds of tattoos." He could feel Neil's pulse thumping rapidly against his fingertips. He uncapped a blue marker and Neil wordlessly dug in his pocket for keys to trace. Andrew shook his head, though, and Neil went still. He'd meant it: they would share more than one car and more than one house in their lives. Neil was memorializing a concept, not specific key teeth. He freehanded a hardware store house key and an unbranded car key in an X over Neil's hammering pulse. “I’m planning black ink with bold lines and some minimal shading. Unless you want something different.”

Neil craned his head up from where he was laying to look. His expression was pleased.

"Any changes?"

Neil thought a moment, then dug in his pocket again. He selected the key to the Foxhole Court and laid it vertically between the other outlines. This one was specific, so Andrew traced the teeth carefully. It was also a hardware store copy like the house key, so he thought a moment, and then drew a fox paw on the head. Neil smiled, wide and soft.

Fuck. He'd had to stop counting months ago. The percentage was getting too ridiculously high. He hated... He hated how Neil made him feel out of control. For years his reason for living had been curating others' dependence on him. Having his own needs and emotions depend so heavily on another person was terrifying, but he'd resigned himself to it.

And it was Neil. He could trust Neil.

“Can we make the paw orange?”

Andrew shook himself out of his own mind. “I’ll get some orange ink online. We’ll fill that in when it arrives.” He rubbed the design down with another alcohol swab followed by petroleum jelly, and then uncapped the bottle of black ink.

Neil froze again when he picked up the needle and sterilized it. He shot his boyfriend an unimpressed stare as he methodically wrapped thread around the tip, and tipped his chin sharply at a scar two inches north of his design. "You've literally been shot, Neil."

"Once. This is a lot of punctures, okay." Neil took a slow, steadying breath.

"It is not a big deal. I've tattooed twelve year olds that handled this with more grace."

"Then why don't you have any, if it's no big deal?" Neil shot back. "I've never even seen a tattoo artist with no tattoos."

Because I've never had anything worth inking, Andrew wanted to argue. But that wasn't entirely true. He'd had a few passing thoughts about the short list of things important enough to keep with him for the rest of his life. The things he was building his life on. Truth. And Neil.

Neil was actually quaking in their bed. He wanted this so much but was so irrationally afraid.

Andrew silently sat in the desk chair and lifted his left arm, propping his elbow on the desk. He gave his inner wrist a swipe with an alcohol swab, just above the arm band, drew what he wanted carefully, and then dipped his needle in ink and began.

It had been a long time, and it was an eye opening experience, marrying together the familiar resistance and yield of skin under the pressure of the needle with the small, sharp pierces that throbbed with his heartbeat in his wrist. On the whole, pricks hurt less than slices. It hurt, but it didn't bleed or linger beyond a raw throb. Neil would be fine. He saw Neil sit up in his peripheral vision, but Neil wasn’t watching the design, he was watching the angle of the needle. Andrew was done stippling the first layer in about five minutes.

“It’s shallower than I thought,” Neil commented when it was safe to speak without distracting Andrew.

“Deep enough to hold the ink, not deep enough to hit blood vessels or let the ink feather over the muscle.” He went over it again, making it darker.

Eventually Neil piped up again. “How did you learn? I thought tattoo artists generally practiced on themselves to figure it out. Who else would let them?”

Andrew kept his eyes on his work, dipping for fresh ink and falling back into the rhythm. Like riding a bike. He’d always been quite efficient and quick with his work. “You don’t learn on skin. You learn on fruit, like bananas and oranges. The peel has skin-like firmness.”

“And…does it hurt?”

Andrew stopped to wipe off the excess ink again, sending Niel a bored look. “Immensely. I am writhing in pain.” Neil shot him a look in return. “It’s just shallow pinpricks, idiot.”

After a third pass and wipe, he eyed it critically. "Yours will take a good deal longer than fifteen minutes because of the size and shading, but.” He twisted his wrist for Neil to see. “Nothing to it."

Copying was easy for him, with his memory. 'Abram' was written in Neil's handwriting.

There was not 'nothing' on Neil's face. Neil's breath hitched, and the sheer emotion in those pretty blue eyes threatened to drown them both.

Andrew covered Neil's eyes when he couldn't stand it anymore, but he bent forward for a lingering kiss at the same time. "Your turn," he murmured against Neil's lips, pressing his palm to Neil's design. Neil's heart was still pounding, though Andrew didn't think it was due to fear anymore. Good enough.

Neil shuddered under his touch and cupped a hand around his wrist, squeezing gently. Andrew let him, and didn't flinch, but he made a note not to touch Neil's tattoo when it was done.

He kissed Neil one more time, then patted his tattoo down with mild soap water, sealed it over with Neosporin and saran wrap. He re-sterilized and threaded his needle, and Neil let him begin to work.

#andreil #aftg #fanfic #up on ao3 if you prefer to read there

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kingdomofbretonxrpg · 4 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, Steph! We are delighted to welcome Taney Hana to beautify (and sleep with) the citizens of the Kingdom of Breton. Please complete our after acceptance checklist. We are looking forward to seeing you develop her! Please send in her blog within 48 hours.

Out of Character

Alias: Steph (or Natty if you already have a Steph)

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 31

Timezone: EST (US)

Anything else? I’m a teacher so while I will likely be extremely active this month that will change Aug. - May. Though I anticipate I should still be able to meet activity requirements, if that changes I won’t ghost, I’ll communicate what’s going on.

Character

Name: Taney Hana - She does not use her last name, but if she needs one: Derrien (you can change that if you’d like)

Birthdate and Age: 17 April + 31 years old

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Faceclaim: Rooney Mara

House Affiliation: Anjou

Profession: Owner of a exclusive private tattoo parlor, Asmodeus, Artist + Tattooist

Claim: Unclaimed

Children: None

Designation: Dominant

Sexuality: Identifies as “sexual” but we can call it pansexual if we need a deeper label

What is their symbol?: Has a sword with roses tattooed on the back of her right arm, but she has a lot of tattoos, so she’ll usually also wear earrings, necklaces, and rings with swords. If she’s wearing any shield symbol it would still have swords paired with it.

Kinks: Everything.

Anti-kinks: Taney’s never tried anything she didn’t enjoy and is open to trying anything 3 times before giving up on it. However, I’m not willing to write any play with bodily fluids other than blood; pretending to be adult/parent-child/step-child, incest, stepcest, etc.; pretending anything involving being a minor or assaulted. If the mun writing opposite wants to post a canon that their character came over and they pretended they were in some professor-student ‘give me an A if I xyz,” then they have my permission to godmod.

Biography:

There comes a time in every person’s youth when they go from playing with toys and being carefree to learning about the real world and worrying about something or other. For Taney, that happened a bit earlier than it had for everyone else. Her father was less than discrete when it came to cheating on his claim. Those submissives weren’t all completely competent, either. When it came time to put him in line, the man was nowhere to be found. His claim was left home alone with Taney and her older sister, Whitney. The shame of it all seemed to be unrelenting, taking a major toll on the girls’ mother. As submissive after submissive from every city he ever took a ‘business trip’ to seemed to pop into their lives looking for Master Derrien - some of which had children, it was Whit who took on the responsibility of raising Taney. It was saying a lot. Taney had always been a handful and as she went into school it was of little surprise that she’d be in near-constant trouble those first few years. At first, she wouldn’t stand for anyone speaking ill of her father, then her mother, then her sister or herself. Eventually everyone got what she was putting down, but nevertheless, it forced her to grow up.

When she was fifteen, nine years later, her father turned up for an unannounced visit. With no words exchanged about her mother and the obvious arrival during that transition time between school and when she would get home from work, Taney would later look on that moment and think that she should have known things were going to go down hill. Taney had already changed a bit and become very independent as that was the only way to survive a friendless childhood where your family name was known all too well. She took to sketching, drawing on herself in class, rarely doing anything she was told. Bad behaviors only made worse when, in these secret visits, her father tried to convince her that she could go live with him in the City of Lights with a new mother that would love her very much. He went on about it and tried to explain arranged claims to her, it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about love and the dom/sub dynamic, but she had learned right from wrong. It also helped that Whitney didn’t seem to be buying into a word he said either. Pulling a knife and lighter, she kept on her person in case she ran away and needed it, Taney stabbed his hand and lit his sleeve on fire. The punishment for the attack was both literal and social. People either admired her or feared her and, with some unwilling therapy, she was lucky enough to face long term repercussions for the attack- mostly because it led to the delayed punishment of her father.

With money running low, Whit joined her mother and had taken up a job at Castlebrac while Taney bounced around from school to school. Simply put, it wasn’t enough to cover their father’s debts and mother’s habits. Once Taney was of age she made the decision, albeit one her mother and sister would deem to be ungrateful, and dropped out of school to complete a general education degree and get out of dodge. Taney had very little knowledge of the ‘real world’; she had practically no ambitions. Nevertheless, the desire to walk away from Breton and never look back seemed more appealing than anything else. So she waitressed, did an office admin gig, played guitar in a mediocre cover band for weddings, this and that, until she’d saved up a decent amount of money. Moving to California for a while she lived on the streets and sold her body for drugs and money. State by state and country to country, she said she’d try her luck in some place new and always did put in a decent effort- at least at first. Taney worked as a bartender, tattoo artist, mechanic, technician, and drug dealer as she made her way around the globe, a young woman consumed by wanderlust and living in hostels or cheap motels until the money ran out.

Taney arrived in New York at twenty-four and it would be the first place she managed to live a whole year. Something about putting down roots encouraged her to spend every bit of strength to stay sober and clean, smoking and drinking remaining her only vices. Noted as short tempered but sweet once you got to know her, Taney was the hostess at a bondage bar in the city called Paddles. Though her everyday look wasn’t as rough and tough as it used to be when she lived on the streets, she still had a very particular air about her- especially when she was at work, and sometimes when she’s not- particularly in the bedroom. Her ability to flirt (or taunt) people into curiosity led to two things, a career change back into sexwork and an unaddressed addiction to something more taboo. However, after an unsavory interaction with a famous client, the company offered an exorbitantly large settlement, giving her an opportunity she never thought she would have. The settlement meant more than an opportunity to travel or leave the job, it was her ticket home.

Feeling like the runaway gig was officially a bust, she tried to reach out to her family in Breton. Whit was the one that told her their mother was ‘gone’ and left it at that. The bitterness of being left behind never sat right with Whitney and the chasm between the sisters only grew when Taney offered her part of the settlement as a way for Whitney to find her own path. Whitney agreed to take what Taney was offering, claiming that it would help her settle some debts. Then, while Taney decided how she wanted to make her way back to Breton, she got a call from a member of House Anjou. Whitney was missing, debts certainly not paid and when she’d been told her mother was ‘gone’ it was a similar scenario. Taney settled into more traveling rather than going back. Maybe a part of her was looking for the family that abandoned her- or she’d abandoned. All the while she honed her craft as a tattooist, growing a clientele through social media and word of mouth. After half a decade of tying up the loose ends her family left behind, Taney bought a small shop with a two bedroom flare over it. Breton, despite all the bad memories she’d had there, was home.

Asmodeus didn’t open as soon as she’d bought the place. Taney had a lot of work to do fixing it up and used this as an excuse to ‘come back quietly’. For the most part she assumed people didn’t remember her, the little sister of the ruined family. Everyone except her had some sort of track record. That wait was spent coding her website, posting promos, and perfecting her watercolor technique and improving her skills in the other styles she had learned in her travels that clients may want. There were some circumstances in between that truly changed her life, a gaslighting non-committal relationship where she saw the person she thought she could open up to show their true colors, casting doubt on her trust in the concept of love and commitment once more. Taney truthfully knew she wasn’t the typical person to catch feelings for. She was promiscuous and happy about it, volatile and reckless, and eccentrically honest. There were just two people outside of her family that could claim to have ever known her beyond the surface and she’d wholly burnt those bridges upon her departure from their respective cities. In her stubbornness refusing to become shackled by societal norms and labels. Though she’s very obviously happier than she’s ever been, she still struggles with her health, including sex addiction, and trusting people- let alone letting anyone in. Many have tried, no one has succeeded or come out unscathed. Be careful what you wish for, if you’re curious to get to know her, she’s likely to pounce- as she’s equal parts sarcasm, quick wit, and horny as hell… a place which she’s inarguably the Queen.

#bretonaccepted #taney hana #rooney mara #accepted

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lebilliam · 7 years ago

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111 questions with @imaginationisendless3

001: What is your biggest dream? uhhh. that depends on how you define dream. im gonna go ahead and say that the dream is to be able to wake up and go to the airport and just travel all around and come back home to the same old home at the end of the day

002: What is the bravest thing you've ever done? this q is quite a doozy. i really dont keep track of this kind of stuff

003: Is it hard for you to show your feelings? hell ye

004: What is your dream job? What was your dream job when you were little? when i was little i thought looking at space and being an astronaut would be really cool but now its just being able to travel

005: What is your favorite sound? mechanical keyboard clicking hands down

006: Would you rather be in front of the camera or behind it? wait this q seems familiar but im gonna say in front

007: What do you notice first when you meet a new person? (Both in real and on the internet): what kind of memes they like

008: Is there anybody you *fully* trust?: sure theres a list

009: Do you like / love someone? If yes, who?: there was this cute girl once but i never mustered the courage to really talk to her rip

010: Have you ever received / sent hate? How do you deal with it?: i flame brian and logan all the time but i dont think that constitutes hate mail. tbh i dont recall an instance of being perturbed by excessive hate

011: What are you going to spend money on next?: food in martinique (or maybe some chacos here)

012: What are three things you never leave your house without?: phone, wallet, jacket

013: What is your favorite place?: ive had a lot of favorite places over the last few years but now that im being asked i cant recall any of them. all my favorite places have this one thing that i dont like about them and thats why i have so many

014: Do you sing and/or dance in front of people? nah not earnestly

015: Have you ever cheated on a test?: have YOU? i say i want to cheat on tests all the time bc itd be so easy but im just too lazy to enact a foolproof cheat strategy

016: What is your current desktop background?: last time it was a bunch of functional groups for Ochem, but now its specific reagents and pathways!

017: How would you describe yourself in 3 words? indecisive, unpredictable, decisive (i thnk)

018: What does make you happy?: honestly?? knowing im appreciated

019: What time were you born? uhh i dont know off the top of my head atm but i can check

020: Do you give second chances? Why? why the fuck NOT? well i say that but all the second chances ive given have been disappointments. trying to find someone to surprise me i guess? xd

021: Name your biggest turn ons and turn offs: serious turn offs are lacking empathy for the struggles of others (i say stop being poor ironically, but there are people who really dont get it which is scary to me). turn ons? Jacinda asked me this and my answer still hasnt changed-- the neck. i ALWAYS go for the jugular

022: When was the last time you hugged someone?: hmmmmm probably last month or so?

023: What is your favorite food? GOD dang it i know i say a lot of things are my favorite but now i cant think of anything. something im always down for is KFC though

024: Do you save money or spend it right away? FUCK i try to save it but money just has a way of leaving my hands

025: Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what are their meanings? If no, would you get any?: id love to get tattoos. sleeves and all those seem really neat but also i know im just rash with decisions like that sometimes

026: Name five things you find beautiful: ooo hair in sunlight, pure moments of unadulterated laughter, crafts that people work on, technology, and mechanical keyboards

027: What is your favorite clothing style? (Both in you and others): lately ive been joking about the CLOUT a lot with champion and supreme branded stuff but its ironic. tbh i like buttonups with nice colors.

028: How do you cheer yourself up? i slid into this girl’s dms with this very question and then i linked her a minecraft song parody so i guess minecraft song parodies and stupid things

029: Do you show affection in public?: i would IF I COULD

030: What is one thing you are looking forward to?: martinique, being refreshed enough to actually care about school bc this last semester was a shitshow

031: Have you ever been to other countries? If yes, where?: france, spain, italy, canada, (japan when i was uber young), vietnam, fircrest

032: What was the last lie you told and why? ill start on this at 2pm. i was still in bed at 2

033: Who are the people you can always turn to? mo, lo

034: Have you ever done drugs? If not, would you ever try them?: it sounds like itd be a cool experience but im also scared all of those horror stories where the drugs were laced with other stuff that turns you into a 4 year old

035: What is your favorite word? i think about the word obsequious a lot but i think my favorite word has to go to discord

036: Do you consider yourself a romantic? sure why not

037: What are 3 objects that are *very* important to you and why?: notes section in my phone ( i write a lot of my thoughts and weird dreams in there), my laptop ( i use it literally every single day), my dice ( bc dnd has been uber helpful to me and its a great pastime)

038: Have you ever met someone famous? If so, who?: nope! not special

039: What would you like to change, mentally and physically, about yourself? id like to start working out but i say that all the time. id like to be more dedicated to school stuff but honestly its whatever. idk jsut trying to be more confident in myself and smiling more

040: Have you ever won a contest/competition? What for? i won a smash tournament once and i got fourth or third in another one but that was a long time ago

041: What is one illegal thing you would do if there were no consequences? steal, armed robbery.

042: Who are your favorite fictional characters? borutos dad seems kind of cool, they should make an anime about him or something

043: Do you ever wish you were somebody else? yea i wish i was me but better

044: What is your favorite store to shop at? FUEGO and the runway fashion exchange and idk some other cool store but it doesnt come to mind

045: Do you want to have children one day? How many? How would you name them?: i think about it. having children would be cool but also NOT having kids would be cool

046: How do you cope with stress? How do you vent your anger? i say reee unironically but then it makes me feel better

047: What do you want for your birthday? honestly? lots of money but idk a new set of dice would be nice ore maybe a new computer

048: Have you ever had an imaginary friend? yea probably

049: Have you ever said "I love you" even though you didn't mean it? in the times ive said it i feel like i have meant it but you can never be too sure

050: What is the best advice anyone has ever given you? starting to write down all your feelings and stuff that happens

051: Do you have any regrets? If yes, what do you regret the most? not taking the opportunity to go to high school/ college early / skipping grades / trying harder on admissions tests

052: Do you find tattoos and/or piercings attractive? theyre pretty neat imo i like them

053: Do you want to get married? What are your views on marriage? marriage is such an old concept but also it seems kind of cool

054: Who are you most comfortable around? tbh its been myself for the last few weeks

055: What are you wearing right now? What do you wear to bed? i am wearing shorts. i try not to wear too much when i sleep bc i overheat but if i have someone else in bed with me ill wear a thin shirt and shorts

056: When is your birthday? feb 26!

057: What is love to you? love is being able to send memes to each other and being able to go from 2 blobs watching videos to a fancy date and

058: Are you a jealous person? i can be jealous if i dont trust whatever is happening

059: Would you rather go to a party or stay at home? hmm tbh id probably party if my friends were there or if not id stay at home

060: How many relationships have you had? quite a few

061: Are you a positive person? sure, i guess ;)

062: What kind of people do you feel attracted to? smart people who are smart but also dumb and cute

063: What is the longest time you've stayed awake? oooowee i think 21 hours or so?

064: Have you ever been told "I don't want to lose you"? yep! proceeded to then lose me!

065: What is your favorite genre when it comes to movies? action comedy

066: Do you collect anything? memories and dust and trinkets

067: In your opinion, what is your best quality? i can make you laugh

068: Have you ever changed for someone?yep! it happens and its sad but it happens

069: What is your idea of a perfect date? a date is the entire day, starting out with waking up next to the person, eating breakfast together, maybe do some errands / work out, netflix and chill, chill, go out for a nice dinner and night out, come back, netflix and chill, chill, go to bed.

070: Are you shy or outgoing? i would love to say im outgoing but idk!

071: In your opinion, what is the secret for a great relationship? surprises everywhere

072: Are you the kind of person who breaks rules? hm im sure i did at some point. maybe i still do?

073: Is it hard for you to trust people? yea it can get a lil hard

074: What does your dream house look like? fat front yard, lots of plants, lots of green grass

075: Do you feel attracted to people your age, younger or older? hmm im at the ripe age of 19 where options younger than me are a lil sketch. idk according to the historia older people have been quality

076: How much have you changed over the past year? a LOT boii

077: Longest friendship you've ever had? hmm about 6 or 7 or 8 years

078: Do you have pets? If not, what animal would you like to have? no pets, id love dogs

079: Are you left or right handed? ambidextrous

080: What talent do you wish you’d been born with? perfect pitch would help a lot with what i like to do

081: Where do you get motivation and inspiration? minecraft parody songs, also seeing professionals doing what they do

082: Do you know how to swim? If yes, when did you learn? yea, i learned when i was in bellingham and then i learned more when i was in kent

083: You are given one wish: What do you wish for? i wish for 100 million dollars with no inflation, no taxes, no debts, no one filing a lawsuit or slandering my name (this is all a part of getting the 100 mil. ive thought about getting money a lot)

084: Do you like to give / receive flowers? What is your favorite flower? i like giving flowers bc i feel like if i receive them, i dont know what to do. its now ur problem if i get you flowers

085: Would you rather travel to a cold forest or a warm beach? warm beach if its not in the early morning when the sun rises, otherwise, forest

086: What is one thing you can't forgive, that can destroy a friendship or relationship beyond repair? if u kill me i dont think i could get over that

087: What is the last thing you purchased? corsair mouse

088: Have you ever broken someone's heart? Ever gotten your heart broken? yep and yep

089: Have you ever cheated on someone? Ever been cheated on? no and yes

090: Do you believe in soulmates? uhhh its possible. theres 8 billion people on this planet, what are the odds that soulmates DOnt exist

091: Is there anybody you would do absolutely *anything* for? If yes, who? hmmmm not anything, but id do a fair bit for my friends

092: Share three facts about your life.: i like to eat, make friends, and travel/experience other cultures

093: Do you believe in love at first sight? i do, but most of the time it isnt reciprocated ;p

094: Would you date someone who smokes / drinks / does drugs / has a mental illness? yea, i dont see why that would stop me from dating them

095: You are given 15 minutes of fame: What would you do? ask for money

096: How is your dream partner like? shes funny, makes me laugh, smells good, etc

097: Would you rather commit to one person or have several relationships? id rather have several relationships so i know exactly what im looking for in a person.

098: What are some of your hobbies? league, hearthstone, watching people play league and hearthstone, french, etc

099: What kind of person do you want to be? i want to be the cool old person when im old

100: What did you have for breakfast? i had some vietnamese cuisine

101: What is your Top 3 favorite shows? What was your Top 3 favorite shows when you were a kid? the office is something i enjoy, mythbusters, uh scooby doo? idk

102: What are three places you *really* would like to visit one day? hmmm maybe the trevi fountain, il duomo, totally la sagrada familia

103: What was your last meal? What was your last beverage? breakfast, water

104: Who is the last person you had a deep conversation with? hmm probably anastasia

105: What is one thing that made you smile today? thinking about martinique

106: Do you like taking photos? If yes, what do you photograph the most?i love taking photos, but i never have subjects so i dont really take photos too often

107: Has anyone ever written a poem or a song dedicated to you? Have you? FHCk man i wish. wait there was a 100 things i like about you and i think about it all the time. i actually have written poems and stuff but tis been a long time and i dont think my creative juices are back from that yet (but trust me, it was straight fire)

108: Do you remember your dreams? If yes, what was the last dream you remember about?: i remember almost all of my dreams because i always tell someone about them and idk talking helps me remember things

109: If you could go back in the past, would you change anything? If yes, what? i would start learning things so much earlier and stick with theme

110: If you were given 3 million dollars, what would you do with them? invest 2 mill in the bank, get that monthly interest coming back in the mail, use that mill to pay off all my and my friends debts, live life the way i wished i could when i was little

111: What are a few facts about you that not many people know of? i like learning languages but its not profitable in this day and age i feel

'111 Questions': by Ira V. Simon (priveting)

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