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juicezone · 2 years ago

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story 1: to be a little lamb.

obligatory disclaimer: i sometimes write stories for tl and av, most of tl’s stories are themed around hermit craft. i don’t really watch it myself (sometimes etho), but generally write off the vibes of the episodes i have watched with him. characters have potential to be ooc. any similarities to other minecraft original characters are purely coindental. don’t like it, don’t read it.

word count: 4803, characters: tl’s self-insert/minecraft oc, sheepard, and a few hermits. sheepard recently became a member of the hermits, though he’s a bit of a shy fellow. as he works on his little home and farm, an off-handed comment from another hermit reminds him of something he used to do on a previous server, though it’d been a while. he tries to not regress, unsure of how the hermits would react and respond. however, sheepard might find he’s not the only one. (i’ll admit, the intro is a bit weak. it gets better at the point where sheepard meets keralis, i feel.)

sheepard had first met some of the hermits on a team-treasure hunt server, and then crossed paths again at a summer camp server. a few more meetings of chance and team ups led to the opportunity for him to visit them on their home server. several visits in, and a visit of a few days turned into an extended visit, and that visit became a permanent stay when the hermitcraft admin made an offer.

“i’m not a very social-type of person- at least not all the time.. i’d probably just build a farm somewhere and keep a farm,” sheepard had replied, “i don’t really do big builds or redstone like you all do, y’know?” the admin reassured him that whatever he chose to do was up to him, and there was no pressure or expectations. upon his acceptance, xisuma handed him a new communicator which buzzed to life as the admin shared the news.

the next few days had sheepard going around to see the various shops and builds the others had created as he decided what he wanted to do. joe offered up the help of hhh or “hermits helping hermits” in case he needed anything during the season, and gave him some spare tools and food from the community space.

a quick chat with xisuma gave him an idea of some unclaimed land and sheepard set off. he gathered as he went, collecting materials and taking the leftovers from a ransacked village. sheepard continued on until he’d walked half of a day without seeing any other builds or farms of the other hermits, and picked a fairly flat spot to build from there.

he’d built a house- nothing big or fancy, but enough for him and some little decor- and was starting on the nighttime stables when a visitor popped by.

“heeellooo, sheepy sheeps!”

sheepard startled, nearly dropping a handful of wheat he’d been bundling. he glanced around for a second before glancing up and seeing a certain big-eyed player just above him, grinning.

“hey, keralis!” sheepard waved him down, “what’dya think? going to add a little fishpond and a crop farm.”

“oooh, very nice, very nice!” keralis nodded approvingly as he looked around, “it will be very cozy!”

“you want a tour? i haven’t actually finished much, but i’ve more or less planned it out,” sheepard offered, taking him around when the other hermit accepted his offer. the pair went around the area sheepard had marked out with fencing, with him describing eventually replacing it with log pillars at the corners and an arch for an entrance. they finished at the house where sheepard shared some of his freshly made bread.

“you got great ideas here, sheepy sheep,” keralis said as he gazed around at the land he’d been shown before glancing back at sheepard with a playful look in his eyes.

“sheepy sheep, or should i say short sheepy sheep? a short sheepy like a lamby?” he teased and sheepard rolled his eyes and faked annoyance as he shoved the other. keralis took off across the field with a laugh, shouting, “lamby-bamby!” behind him as sheepard gave chase.

“i’m not short, you’re just weirdly tall!” sheepard called out as keralis took off into the air with his rockets, shaking his fist at the escaping hermit’s backside. he sighed and shook his head as he turned back towards his house.

“silly keralis. small sheep are just called sheep, lambs are baby sheep,” he murmured as he got ready for the night, “i’m no baby sheep.. at least not here,” he added to himself. the nickname brought up fuzzy memories for him, of a server he hadn’t been to in months. maybe even a year or so. the feeling didn’t go away, just lingered in his chest as sheepard turned in for the night and the feeling stayed through the morning even as sheepard tried to ignore it.

determined it was something he wasn’t going to deal with, he threw himself into his work and left no time for downtime. he finished the stables, dug out and filled the fishpond, tilled the earth and started planting seeds for the farm, and even prepared to go out to get animals.

he was returning from his second unsuccessful animal search when he ran- quite literally- into ren.

“aw- dude, sorry, i’m sorry. my bad, wasn’t lookin’ where i was going.” sheepard’s face warmed in embarrassment and he avoided meeting the dog-hybrid’s eyes as he helped him up.

“naw, don’t worry about it, s’what i get for walking and texting at the same time,” ren replied. even without looking at him, sheepard could tell that ren seemed to be looking closely at him. for a few moments they stood there in a stalemate with sheepard refusing to make eye contact and ren not saying anything. the longer the stalemate went on, the more antsy sheepard felt- he was tired and he wasn’t sure why ren seemed to be studying him. he was about to excuse himself when the hermit finally spoke.

“lookin’ a little rough there, buddy. bags under yer eyes, and you’re pretty pale, like you need a meal and a nap,” ren furrowed his brow as he spoke, “y’know, i’m on my way over to help scar out with grian and mumbo, you can come along. they’d probably like another person to play with.”

play with? the fuzzy feeling that had been simmering surged forward and sheepard bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. quickly he shook his head and gave ren a weak, tight-lipped smile and turned on his heel to walk away. he could tell ren was staring at his back as he did so, and he forced himself to not look back.

the return home was miserable. the fuzzy feeling he’d repressed so hard for the past week had come back stronger than ever, and sheepard struggled to keep above them. there was no way ren was talking about what sheepard thought he meant, but a growing part of him wanted what ren was talking about to be what sheepard thought.

as soon as he was in his house, he moved straight for the bed and kicked off his boots before tucking himself under the blankets. he hid there, feeling truly awful as he struggled with himself. he hadn’t slipped like this in forever, but he hadn’t let himself be smaller in a really long time.

too long, apparently.

now he was teetering on the edge of regression, he was alone, he was miserable, and there was nothing he could do about it. he pressed his face into the pillow he’d dragged under the covers with him, big wet spots appearing on it as he used it to muffle his crying. he cried himself to sleep at some point, but he felt no better when he woke the next day.

his stomach hurt and his head ached, but he didn’t get up. instead, he just stayed under the protection of the covers, even when he heard his communicator buzz and buzz as he received messages. he was halfway into an uneasy nap when he heard the knocking on his door, though he didn’t move to get up. he didn’t even stir until he heard it creak open.

“sheepard? are you in here?”

sheepard lifted just enough of the blanket to peer out to see who was standing at the door, seeing xisuma come in with doc not far behind. the creeper-hyprid caught sight of the shape on the bed and gestured in the direction and sheepard quickly lowered the blanket as xisuma came over.

“you feeling alright? it's been a few since we last saw you, apart from ren last night.” the admin spoke quietly and slowly, as if not wanting to startle or upset him.

“figured you’d been working on your set up, and ren mentioned that you looked pretty rough. working to the bone is practically a hermitcraft requirement, but figured we’d check in anyways,” doc chimed in.

sheepard shifted under the blanket. he could use that as an excuse, but first he’d have to sit up and not act like such a child. no matter how he felt. he pulled the covers down and sat up, resisting the urge to rub his eyes.

“yeah jus’ uh.. jus’ overworked is all,” he mumbled. at least with his voice so rough, it wouldn’t give anything away about how he felt at the moment. xisuma nodded as if he understood, and sheepard felt a flicker of worry that they’d accept the reason and just leave. as much as he was pretending nothing was wrong, he really, really didn’t want to be alone. instead of leaving however, the admin turned to doc and asked him to put the animals they’d brought as gifts to the stables they’d seen, and waited until doc was gone.

“now, not to directly call you out on anything, but as a derp in charge of other frequent disasters, i’ve gotten fairly decent at getting when someone’s not telling the whole truth,” xisuma spoke as he knelt by the bed, “so what’s eating at you?”

sheepard didn’t say anything in response, just fiddled with his sleeve and shrugged.

“i’unno. ya’d think it’s stupid.”

“well, i think that’d be my choice, right? i don’t think i’d think anything bothering my hermits is stupid, but i can tell you what i think is going on.”

“...what?” sheepard glanced over at the admin, whose face he could somewhat see through the tinted helmet. he didn’t look mad, or upset, or even disappointed.

“i think.. right now you’re a little guy who’s trying to be a big guy. am i right?” the gentle way xisuma said it- no judgment, no disgust, just calm and understanding- washed away more of the resistance sheepard had, and he felt himself slip again. if he was small before, now he felt absolutely tiny.

he was tiny, his head hurt, his tummy hurt, and he was tired. his lower lip trembled and big tears formed, trickling down his cheeks. he hiccuped as xisuma moved from the floor to the bed to pat sheepard on the back comfortingly as the regressed hermit cried again. he ran out of tears quicker than the night before, and was just hiccuping miserably when doc returned and xisuma nodded to him.

“all ready to go? he is pretty obviously little right now, and he should probably get settled.”

“agreed. alrighty little guy, you ready to go? got anything you want us to grab for you?” xisuma asked, looking a bit bothered when sheepard shook his head. he sent a message on his communicator and gave doc the okay to pick sheepard up to carry him. he went limp in the creeper-hybrid’s arms, too tired to put up any sort of protest. between the steady movement, and the quiet conversation between the two bigger hermits, sheepard drifted off before they’d even left his fenced area.

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“...he’s really out, huh?”

“oop- maybe not anymore. you waking up, little pal?”

sheepard stirred at the voices, not wanting to open his eyes. he was warm and comfortable, and it was tempting to go back to sleep. but his tummy still hurt, and if someone was around his house, he really should get up and play the part of a regular person.

suddenly, the events of earlier came flooding back, and sheepard sat up suddenly. he wasn’t in his house anymore, and it wasn’t a base he could recall seeing. voices also meant he wasn’t alone either, and he realized he was on a couch with ren and scar was sitting in his chair nearby. immediately, sheepard looked away from them, cheeks burning with shame.

“aw, don’t be like that, it’s okay! you got nothing to be worried about,” scar reassured as he wheeled closer, “really, you’re okay!”

“‘....’s weird..” sheepard mumbled and curled into himself on the couch. he felt ren shift on the couch until he was closer and could pull sheepard into a one-armed side hug, and sheepard didn’t pull away. tears prickled at his eyes again, and he wiped them away with a shuddery breath. he knew he wasn’t all the way big, his head still felt very much young, but he felt he had to try and act the part. he took another shuddery breath and whined quietly when a tear escaped and trickled down his cheek.

“aw.. buddy..” ren spoke softly and wiped his cheek, “can you do somethin’ for us? can you tell us how old you feel? it’s okay if it’s really small, just be as honest as you can, okay?” ren didn’t sound upset at all, just concerned.

sheepard shrugged and played with his sleeve for a few moments before holding up five fingers. he hesitated, and then lowered a finger uncertainly, looking between the two for any sort of angry reaction.

“fantastic, buddy, thank you very much. do you got anyone you want us to get for you? from here or somewhere else?” ren asked again, and sheepard slowly shook his head. even though he’d had a past server where he’d been allowed to act like this, it had disbanded and he hadn’t seen the others since. ren glanced at scar who seemed to agree with whatever silent message the dog-hybrid was sending.

“well, how about for right now we take care of you. is that okay?”

“if you.. um.. if you want to,” sheepard whispered, just barely audible. both ren and scar nodded, and the dog-hybrid pulled him into a closer hug that sheepard sank into. as comfortable as he was, his stomach refused to be ignored anymore, and sheepard shifted uncomfortably.

“something wrong?” scar asked. sheepard gave a small nod and gingerly rubbed his stomach before he mumbled that his stomach hurt. when asked what he’d eaten recently, sheepard shrugged and looked away in case they were upset.

“don’t worry about it, we can fix that easy enough! i’ll go get some apple slices and we can see if that helps, okay?” ren suggested as he got off the couch. sheepard watched him go, already missing the close comfort from being hugged against ren’s side. he glanced over at scar who smiled warmly at him and sheepard hesitantly reached out for his hand. the other hermit gave it easily, and sheepard clutched the new lifeline even after ren returned with a bowl of sliced apples.

ren held the bowl out to him once he’d sat, and with his free hand, sheepard took two apple slices and offered them to scar. he repeated the act with ren before taking his own.

“so polite to share!” scar praised and sheepard couldn’t help the shy smile that formed. between the three of them, the apple slices went quickly, and sheepard wiped his hand on his shirt before rubbing his eyes.

“feelin’ any better with something in your tummy?” scar asked as he swung the hand sheepard was still holding back and forth. sheepard nodded. he didn’t feel too much better, but if he admitted it, he worried the other two might find it a hassle to keep helping him and he didn’t want that. he might even get sent home, and he definitely didn’t want that.

ren hummed thoughtfully and scar looked over, and they seemed to have a silent conversation before coming to an equally silent agreement. it made sheepard’s chest feel fluttery, and he picked at his shirt with his free hand.

“well, i think we have a triple s on our hands,” scar declared and sheepard stopped picking at his shirt. a triple s? what did that mean?

“think you’re right on the money, my good scar. a triple s indeed.” ren nodded in agreement and winked at sheepard, which only served to confuse him more.

“...wassat?” sheepard asked uncertainly. neither scar nor ren looked upset, and there was no one else in here that he’d seen, so why speak in code?

“a sss. a small, sleepy sheep!” scar reached forward with his free hand and poked sheepard in the side suddenly, and sheepard couldn’t help the surprised giggle that escaped him. both caregivers looked delighted at the sound and high-fived, and sheepard giggled again.

“ah, a small correction is needed i see! we actually have a silly, small, sleepy sheep! should get you to bed, sleepy sheep!” ren said with a smile, adding, “into some comfy pj’s and off to bed!”

the way sheepard’s smile slipped off his face wasn’t missed and ren patted him on the head between the horns and asked what the matter was.

“don’ got no ‘jamas..” sheepard said, feeling upset. he untangled his hand from scar and brought his hand up to his mouth to chew on his knuckle. ren sighed and sheepard looked down at his lap, worried he’d somehow upset the other.

“is that all? we’ve got plenty of pj’s here just in case, you never know who’ll need what! there’s even extras for us big guys like ren and me,” scar reassured, “can ren check your shirt and pant sizes and i’ll go get some for you to pick?”

sheepard gave a small nod and ren quickly checked and gave the sizes to scar who wheeled off. he returned a few moments later with some clothes on his lap and held them up for sheepard to pick from. he made his choice pretty quickly, choosing the purple pair with sheep all over them.

“aww, sheep for a sheep?” scar teased playfully once sheepard had finished changing.

“mma.. ‘mma lil lamb..” sheepard replied shyly, smiling at the two caregivers when they agreed with a smile of their own.

“well, it’s time for a little lamb to go to bed,” ren said as he got up from the couch with a yawn and a stretch of his own.

“i’ve gotta get home to feed jellie, so i’ll see you two tomorrow, okay? bye-bye buddy!” scar waved as he wheeled himself out of the living room. sheepard waved back until scar turned the corner before turning back to ren with his knuckle in his mouth again. as if he’d planned for it, the dog-hybrid reached into a table drawer by the couch and pulled out a dark purple pacifier and offered it to the little.

sheepard reached out for it with his free hand and wiped the other on his shirt. he clutched it to his chest but didn’t put it in his mouth right away.

“um.. w-ren?” he fought to form the letter right, “i t’ink ‘m wit-littler..” he shuffled his feet. he’d felt older before, but the pjs and the way both mentally-older hermits seemed to know exactly what to do and say had made him dip a little. ren didn’t look surprised and tugged sheepard over for another side hug.

“yeah? how’re you feelin’ right now?” he asked as he steered them out of the room and into a hallway. with the hand not holding the pacifier, sheepard held up three fingers at ren who nodded with a smile. as ren took them down the hallway, sheepard inspected the pacifier and popped it in his mouth once he’d decided it was approved.

“here we are- sleepy time room!” ren announced as he opened a door with a little moon and stars picture on it. it had several beds of varying colors and sizes and a few dressers. sheepard followed ren to one of the larger beds and sat on it, rubbing his hands on the soft blanket. he watched curiously as ren went over to a closet and pulled out a big bag and brought it over to the bed.

“this bag’s full of brand new stuffed animals who want a new friend. why don’t you see if there are any you like?” ren said as he dumped the bag out onto the bed and spread the toys out for sheepard to look at.

there were tons of options. bears, cats, dogs, even farm animals like cows, pigs, and of course, sheep. he was about to reach for a dark gray sheep when another stuffed animal caught his eye. he held up a bright blue shark with a white belly and hugged it close before looking hopefully at ren.

“ great choice! why don’t you help me get the rest of these cleaned up, okay?” ren opened the bag and started putting the others away. sheepard helped, careful to not put his new friend back in the bag. he rubbed his eyes tiredly with one hand as ren stored the bag away and sat back down on the bed.

“so, the choice here is yours, sleepy little lamb. i can sleep in an extra bed, i can sleep in another room, or i can share a bed if you want. y’said it’d been a while since you last regressed, and i know sleeping all by yourself when you’re little can be scary.”

sheepard didn’t even have to consider the choices. he held tight to ren’s hand and clambered over the bed to make room. it was a little awkward since he was holding both the shark and ren’s hand, but before long they were both comfortable and under the blankets.

“w-wen? coun’ s’eep for me?” sheepard whispered, blankets tucked up to his chin. he was warm and comfortable, snuggled up with his shark and ren. he raised a hand up to chew on his knuckle again and realized he’d lost the pacifier somewhere. upset he’d lost something he’d just gotten, he told ren.

“aww don’t worry, i’m sure i’ll find it tomorrow and we can get a clip if you’d like,” ren reassured as he rolled over to his side, “now, i’m gonna start counting, okay? one sleepy little lamb, two sleepy little lambs, three…” ren continued counting until he was certain the newest addition to the tiny hermits was asleep.

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“c’mon little lamb, it’s morning, time to wakey-wakey!”

sheepard stirred at the voice and curled beneath the blankets, and whined when they were pulled down. he made a cranky face at ren who just laughed in response, and whined again when the blankets he reached for were pulled away.

“it’s time for a bit of breakfast, crankypants. yummy for your tummy!” ren gently bopped sheepard on the nose, and stuck his tongue out in response when sheepard stuck his out.

“grumpy in th’ mornings, aren’tcha?”

feeling grumpy indeed, sheepard firmly decided he was staying in bed, blanket or no blanket. at least he did for the few minutes it took for his stomach to wake up and growl. suddenly, he was agreeable to getting out of bed, and reached up for ren to carry him. doc apparently could, and he was hopeful ren had similar strength.

thankfully ren was able to heft the shorter hermit up, and the pair were off to the kitchen after a brief pitstop at the bathroom on the way where ren clipped the lost pacifier from the night before to him.

“i put some toast in the toaster, just a simple breakfast for right now because it’s a bit close to lunch. believe it or not, i let’cha sleep in!” ren said after settling the little in a chair and making his way to the toaster just as it popped up. “i’m having the classic pb and jelly on mine, what do you want?”

“me too? wif honey no jelly?” sheepard asked hopefully and cheered happily when ren uncapped a golden bottle and drizzled a small amount over a slice of toast. he eagerly crunched into it as soon as ren placed it and a sippy cup of juice in front of him.

they’d finished eating and sheepard was squirming unhelpfully as ren tried to wipe his sticky face clean when there was a knock at the door.

“come in, we’re as decent as we’ll ever be!” ren called and winked at sheepard who echoed with a less loud, “come in!” of his own. a door opened and closed, and grian appeared with scar not far behind.

“we bring cookies! also i left some of my mining gear here the other day and forgot about it,” grian announced as he dropped the plate onto a counter and vanished down a hall.

“i wanted to see how our little buddy was feeling!” scar said as he wheeled into the room and snagged a few cookies off the plate. he passed one each to the three of them, and sheepard started to jam his in his mouth, delighted to get a second treat right after a first.

“so, how are we doing?”

“am free,” sheepard replied, nodding very seriously after his bite of cookie. scar nodded just as seriously, and ren hid a smile behind his hand.

“he’s a crankypants to get up, but apparently treats are the magic cure for that, huh?” ren and scar both laughed at that. the two carried on a conversation about build plans for later until grian returned and said he had his things. both scar and grain waved bye to sheepard as they left.

“so, what do you say now we’re done with breakfast, we go into the playroom and play? we have blocks to play with, animals to play with, i’m sure we have something you’d like to do!” ren suggested once he’d put the plates away. sheepard nodded and slid out of his chair and reached for ren’s hand.

the playroom was just a room over, and it was stocked with toys galore. sheepard’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and looked up at ren.

“you can play with anything that’s on the blue shelves, okay? the red and yellow shelves are a bit too big for you right now, but maybe you can play with them later,” ren explained as he brought him over to the shelving unit. the caregiver sat in a beanbag chair and watched as sheepard slowly looked through everything before taking out a box of crayons and a coloring book. he focused hard on the chosen picture of a cartoon cat, sticking his tongue out as he colored.

a buzz distracted him from his focus, and he looked up to see ren tapping away at his communicator before putting it away.

“you go?” sheepard asked worriedly, feeling a bit relieved when ren shook his head.

“naw, was just lettin’ the others know i wasn’t going to be out and around because i’m here watching you.”

the relief he’d just felt melted away again, leaving a funny feeling in sheepard’s stomach. he looked down at his half colored picture for a moment before looking up at ren and getting to his feet and walking over to the bean bag chair.

“okay to go. i be big if you want go,” sheepard said, fiddling with the clipped on pacifier. ren’s smile faltered for a moment, and sheepard worried he’d upset the other hermit, and his stomach flipped around. at first, ren didn’t say anything, just pulled sheepard down for a hug. sheepard didn’t move or pull away, feeling confused.

“buddy, it’s okay, i really don’t mind. i like looking after my little buddies, makes me feel like a proud papa wolfie,” ren reassured. sheepard didn’t say anything and just nodded into his shoulder. ren patted him on the back and shuffled over so they could both squeeze onto the beanbag.

“you wanna go back and keep coloring, buddy?” ren asked. sheepard still felt uncertain- the ease of the morning suddenly felt as if it was gone- and shook his head. ren hummed for a moment, and offered another suggestion.

“you want to go lay on the couch and watch cartoons?”

sheepard nodded slowly and awkwardly squirmed off the bean bag with ren, and followed him into the other room. he settled on the couch and shook his head when ren asked if he wanted to choose a cartoon. ren chose a cartoon about adventuring cats and curled up on the couch with sheepard, taking a blanket off the back and tucking it around both of them.

after a few episodes, sheepard rubbed his eyes tiredly and laid his head on ren’s side.

“you can go to sleep again, little buddy,” ren said quietly and sheepard mumbled a reply. he felt ren tuck the blanket around him a little more before the caregiver rested his hand on his back, gently rubbing it. a small part of him still felt bad that ren was losing out on the day to lay on the couch with him, but a larger part was just relieved and happy that he wasn’t miserable at home alone anymore. it reminded him of the other server he’d lived on, and he dozed off with that thought and the sound of the cartoon in the background.

#juice writing #tl #sheepard sleeping will be a common theme as tl pretty much always sleeps when it's regressed.#this was the first and i think longest i wrote.

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trashy-roadkill · 3 years ago

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I posted 106 times in 2021

90 posts created (85%)

16 posts reblogged (15%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.2 posts.

I added 209 tags in 2021

#possum's art - 66 posts

#friday night funkin - 35 posts

#possum.txt - 26 posts

#andy's apple farm - 18 posts

#possum's ocs - 17 posts

#friday night funkin oc - 12 posts

#possum's art requests - 11 posts

#fnf oc - 8 posts

#fnf oc stitch - 8 posts

#fnf stitch - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#oh yeah im open for any ideas you can come up with for his minus design! you may say any in the comments or something lol

My Top Posts in 2021

Me: gets into Andy's apple farm

*stares at the pumpkin I gotta paint*

Peter moment with the freckles, featuring spooky picture of his glow n the dark eyes in a dark room

I gotta outline the eyes tho ajdh

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58 notes • Posted 2021-10-10 07:11:57 GMT

Hi, yes I bring forth, two boyos

Thee smol boyos

Pump wears converse now don't ask why KSJSKAKNA

lol I rushed this I bit because I gotta go sleep skjsjak

59 notes • Posted 2021-02-03 05:39:39 GMT

Hello, I bought a pack of mini canvas and a mini easel, so I painted skid and pump

I cannot stop thinking about this duo please help

81 notes • Posted 2021-01-29 19:28:47 GMT

Andy x Peter from Andy's Apple farm?

Funny lineless art and tbh I absolutely love this so I hope you do too ^^

92 notes • Posted 2021-11-04 00:54:44 GMT

YO WHY AM I LAUGHING SO HARD AT THIS ONE PAUSED IMAGE what the heck is wrong with me

EVERYTIME I look at this I go,"ah yes, pump ascends" and I laugh my ass off, H

Btw this is from a mod called friday night funkin minus where the characters are designed to look just like their icons, it's pretty amazing go check it out!

Edit:YO WHAT IN THE WORLD, WHERE DID ALL OF YALL COME FROM AKHSJSJSNAN damn thank you hhh

Edit 2: I made an ironic meme, your welcome

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164 notes • Posted 2021-02-02 17:06:32 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #niceeee #its funny how numbers 8-10 is just my fnf oc tags akhsbd #random thing but here yall go lol

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rawiswhore · 5 years ago

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Triple H, Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- “Sticky Fingaz”

I wonder if I should type some fanfics that aren't sexual?

I have 3 ideas for fanfics that aren't really all that sexual at all and I've thought of posting them on this blog.

________________________________________________________________

By the end of 1997, you were back to being Triple H and even Shawn Michaels' valet after spending time in rehab for your drug and alcohol addictions.

And this is absolutely wonderful, why?

Not only are you done with doing drugs, but so many male pro wrestlers in the WWF now are absolutely gorgeous: Triple H has gotten rid of the braids he had behind his hair in the summer of 1997 and looks so much better now, and Shawn is getting hotter and sexier.

And Triple H and Shawn have started their own little WWF faction that's helping give the WWF ratings known as D Generation X.

Billy Gunn has gotten rid of that unflattering brown hair he's had during most of this year as well as gotten rid of that stupid RockaBilly gimmick.

Since joining the WWF, you have a certain rule: that rule is you're only allowed to eat fast food once a month, especially if you're riding a tour bus.

Why? So you can keep your sexy figure.

You were riding a tour bus with Shawn Michaels and Triple H and it was almost dinnertime.

You haven't eaten anything since lunchtime and your stomach is growling a bit.

You actually have been craving KFC for a while and you wouldn't mind eating KFC, but you have to ask the boys riding with you if they'd like some.

Thankfully, Shawn and Triple H were wide awake, not sleeping, not even listening to their music on their CD player, neither were you. Remember, this is the 90's.

"Guys?" you asked, raising your voice so Shawn and Triple H can hear you.

They both turned their heads, looking at you when you announced something.

"I've been craving and wanting KFC for dinner" you confessed "Would you like some KFC? They say we can only eat fast food once a month".

Shawn doesn't mind KFC, in fact, he loves it, why do you think 2 decades later he'd dress as Colonel Sanders while entering the WWE?

Triple H usually never eats fast food, in fact, he dislikes it, but maybe he could have a bite of KFC.

You actually have a plan with eating KFC with these 2 wrestlers where they don't exactly have to eat all of the food.

"I'd love to eat some!" Shawn answered back, smiling.

"I don't like fast food" Triple H responded "But I guess I could have a bite"

You smiled back at them, so happy to hear that they agree with what you want to eat.

However, they didn't know about your secret plan, but what I'm about to say isn't the secret plan.

"Do you want me to order 3 separate bags for us to eat?" you asked them "Like, one meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and whatnot for Shawn, one bucket of chicken and whatever for Hunter, and a bucket of fried chicken and blah blah blah for me, or should we all order one bucket of fried chicken for the 3 of us to share and have some side dishes to share?"

Oh boy, that's a tough one.

It probably would be best if you ordered one bucket of KFC so you can share the bucket with these 2 men.

"I'll go with sharing" Shawn decided. "That way we can all have pieces of chicken".

Triple H nodded his head, agreeing with this.

You smiled at Shawn's answer and Triple H's answer.

But you didn't care that much about the chicken.

What about the side dishes? Do they care about the side dishes?

"What about the side dish?" you asked. "Like mashed potatoes, French fries, coleslaw, blah blah blah? Should we order some side dishes?"

You actually want to order some side dishes, especially mashed potatoes, and you have reasons why.

Coleslaw is at least healthy.

"I actually want to order mashed potatoes" you said "I've been craving them lately. What do you guys want?"

Triple H didn't usually eat at KFC, so he didn't know what the side dishes were.

Shawn didn't know what to order.

Hmmmmm, French fries, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, biscuits... decisions, decisions!

"Hunter, they serve coleslaw there!" you said. "We could get some coleslaw for you, but I want mashed potatoes".

"Are you sure they have coleslaw?" Triple H asked, looking puzzled and confused.

"They do" Shawn answered "Haven't you seen the commercials?"

Triple H doesn't really pay attention to KFC commercials, he doesn't eat fast food.

Shawn and especially Triple H didn't want to ruin their healthy, athletic figures, neither did you, for that matter, so Triple H did decide on the coleslaw.

You, however, had your mind set on the mashed potatoes.

Shawn didn't really want any side dishes, considering they're tasty but unhealthy and he doesn't want to ruin his figure this afternoon.

If he looks fat that afternoon, it's your fault!

"If you guys want, you guys can eat whatever you want after I order KFC!" you said. "Something healthy, I meant".

Shawn and Triple H both liked what you said, smiling back at you.

And you smiled back at them.

"Then it's settled!" you announced, still smiling.

Wonder if the driver wants some KFC too?

"Guys" you said to Shawn and Triple H "Look out the window and keep an eye out for a KFC!"

While talking to these 2, you didn't pay attention and look out the window, so you probably missed a KFC, though there could be a KFC soon, hopefully.

Dinnertime has yet to come yet, and hopefully you'll find a KFC.

You turned your head to the window, your eyes now staring out the window, keeping an eye out for a KFC.

All your eyes could see were some trees, pastures and farms. Not very exciting.

Triple H, meanwhile, hovered over you, looking out the window and looking to see if there's anything outside. Nope.

Since you're sitting down and still have time to find a KFC, you may as well walk up to the driver and ask him what he wants to eat.

You put one of your hands on the leather seats in front of you and lifted your ass off of the seat, where you turned your body sideways, walking carefully and gingerly.

Triple H moved his feet out of the way for you.

"Excuse me!" you exclaimed to Triple H, "Sorry"

"Where are you going?" Trips asked.

"To ask the driver what he wants to eat for dinner" you answered, one of your hands holding on top of the seat in front of you and the other hand on top of Triple H's seat (and you don't mean seat as in ass), trying to hold your balance

Triple H nodded his head, understanding you.

You then walked over to where the driver was, putting your hands on top of the bus seats to keep your balance while the bus was moving.

The driver could see you walking up to him, and luckily, you weren't going to flirt with him (which you don' t do).

Once you were right in front of him, you tapped him on the shoulder, though he could already see you through the mirror, so no need to tap him.

"What do you want to eat for dinner?" you asked the driver.

"Whatever I want" he replied. "I heard about your KFC conversation with them".

You smiled back at him.

You even wondered if the driver heard your KFC conversation with Shawn and Trips while talking with them about what to eat for dinner.

"Alright!" you exclaimed, smiling. "Remember to stop by a KFC for us!"

Meanwhile, Shawn and Triple H were thinking about what they wanted to eat for dinner besides some KFC.

You carefully walked back to where you were originally sitting by and slid into the tiny section you and Triple H were sitting at, sitting back down with HHH.

While you're at it, you raised yourself up a bit from your seat, trying to get a good look to find the next KFC.

Though, this probably isn't necessary, considering the driver probably has his eyes looking for a KFC on the way to the arena.

But here's something you haven't asked the boys...

You sat your ass back down in your seat and turned your head to Shawn and Triple H.

"Guys" you said, raising your voice to get their attention.

Shawn and Triple H turned their heads and looked at you.

"When we stop at a KFC" you said "Should we go inside the restaurant or ask our driver to buy our meal?"

Shawn Michaels is already a hugely popular pro wrestler and even one of the top faces of the company throughout the 90's who would go on to influence many pro wrestlers in the future.

He might not be a hugely popular wrestler in pop culture that everyone knows a la Hulk Hogan, but he's an icon in the pro wrestling world.

And Triple H, while he isn't the superstar now like he'd be in the future, he is a rising star in the WWF, and so are you.

You even caused some controversy in the WWF with Hunter that appeared on the news.

You're afraid that people will recognize you when you enter the KFC and run up to you screaming and asking for your autograph and whatnot, which there's nothing wrong with it, but...

"The thing is, we're pretty famous people" you said. "Shawn is a popular wrestler who's one of the top people in the WWF and I'm afraid people in the KFC will recognize us and run up to us wanting autographs and screaming and what have you"

Shawn nodded his head at this.

He has plenty of thirsty screaming fangirls who are nuts over him, even his entrance music at the beginning of the song has sounds of women moaning over him.

Triple H probably can agree about being attacked by mobs of wrestling fans, and he thinks what you're saying is good judgment.

It's probably a good thing to ask the driver to order your food for you, though, what if he messes up your order and/or orders something you don't want?

Though, sometimes employees give you something you don't want at fast food restaurants and mess your orders up.

Maybe you could quickly run into the KFC and get your order and run back to the bus.

"I'll order myself" you decided. "So the driver won't mess up my order"

"But what if the employees mess up your order?" Shawn fires back.

"Touche" you replied. "I've worried about that too, but I want to order it myself. I'll be brave"

Girl power.

"Would you guys like hot and crispy wings?" you asked them. "Or boneless strips?"

Both Shawn and Triple H looked at each other, trying to decide what to want.

Chicken wings would be awesome, though maybe it would be better to eat boneless strips, that way they won't have to eat bones.

The 3 of you decided on the boneless strips.

After deciding what to eat, you were looking at the window, staring at what was out the window.

Now instead of trees, you were starting to see signs instead, green signs that read that as you drove further, logos of gas stations and fast food restaurants are further ahead.

Your eyes found logos for popular fast food restaurants: McDonalds, Wendy's, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, and...KFC!!

You could nearly jump up and down in your seat in happiness over seeing a KFC sign, your face immediately lit up seeing that sign, your eyes and eyebrows raising higher and you could nearly have a huge, excited, ear-to-ear smile on your face seeing that sign, but you tried to contain your excitement.

You really, really hope the driver saw that KFC logo on the green sign, though there's probably a KFC sign overhead that he can see.

You raised yourself out of your seat, where you crawled out of the space you were sitting with Triple H, and walked up to the driver.

You managed and tried to keep your balance while the bus was moving.

Finally, you were standing behind the bus driver.

"Did you see the KFC sign on that green sign?" you asked him, pointing towards where the green signs were.

"I can see a KFC sign standing up overhead" he replied. "I'll find a KFC"

You smiled back at him.

"Thank you so much!" you declared happily.

"You're welcome" he replied.

You really hope he did stick to what he says.

You turned around and walked back to where you were sitting with Triple H, sliding through the little space to get back to your seat.

You sat back in your seat, eager and couldn't wait to eat.

"Boys" you exclaimed, raising your voice and turning your head to them.

Triple H turned his head and looked at you, so did Shawn.

"I found a KFC!" you stated "The driver hopefully will drive us there!"

Shawn smiled at you hearing this news, so did Triple H, even though Triple H doesn't care about fast food.

Lo and behold, the driver actually did enter an area filled with fast food restaurants everywhere, including, what else? A KFC.

And he was driving you to that KFC, grabbing and steering the wheel so he could direct the bus to that KFC.

You could see the driver pull up to where the KFC was and you tried to contain your excitement.

Shawn was pretty excited too and couldn't wait to eat.

And while Triple H is getting pretty hungry, he isn't that excited about KFC.

Pretty soon, the driver pulled up to a parking lot, parking in a space reserved for buses.

He suddenly paused and stopped the bus, and you could nearly wet yourself in excitement, but you managed to control yourself.

You lifted your ass out of your seat, where Triple H knew the drill, he moved his feet out of the way so you could walk out of the narrow little space.

You walked up to the driver.

"Sir" you said to him "I'll order my meal".

He nodded his head and opened the doors for you, of course, not standing and physically opening the doors for you, but the doors opened for you.

You walked down the stairs, your eyes looking down at the stairs to keep yourself from falling down, and walked out of the bus, where the doors closed behind you.

You just hope and pray no one recognizes you while you enter the KFC.

You walked towards the restaurant, pulling the door's handle and entered the most iconic fast food restaurant in the world.

Surprisingly, there weren't really a lot of people in the restaurant, and luckily, there was no one at the front counter ordering something!

This is your lucky day.

Not only did you eventually stumble across a KFC, but there isn't anyone near the counter and not a lot of people in the restaurant.

Granted, there were a few people in the restaurant, no doubt about that, but not a lot.

However, some people looked at you while you entered the restaurant.

You walked up to the counter, butterflies in your stomach, not in excitement, but in hope no one will recognize you.

"Can I take your order?" the cashier asked, a young looking person who must be about 21 years old.

You could see some employees behind the counter whispering to one another, looking at you, probably asking "Is that who I think she is?".

"Yeah" you replied, raising your voice and looking at the menu "Can I get some boneless chicken strips, a bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy and a bowl of coleslaw?"

"Would you like some dipping sauces?" the cashier asked.

Oooh, that could give you an idea later on.

"Sure!" you replied. "What do you have?"

"We have ranch, honey mustard, and barbeque" the cashier answered.

"Can I get those 3?" you asked "And some ketchup packets!"

"Is that all?" the cashier asked.

Considering you want to share your mashed potatoes with 2 other men, you may as well get some more plastic spoons.

"May I have 3 plastic spoons, please?" you asked "I want to share my mashed potatoes with 2 people".

"3 spoons?" the cashier asked.

"Yes" you replied.

"Alright" she stated.

The cashier shouted your order to the employees, turning her head while shouting your order for them to make it for you.

The cashier said your price for your food, and the price for this meal was cheap, this is the 90's.

You put your hand down in your pocket and pulled out your wallet, opening the wallet up.

You fished in your wallet for some money, the correct amount of money to pay what you'll pay for.

After finding the money to pay for this meal, you pulled it out of your wallet, sliding the money across the counter, where the cashier took it from you and put it in the cashier.

While you were waiting for your meal and the cashier was busy pushing buttons, Triple H and Shawn Michaels were back in the bus, talking with the driver, telling the driver where they want to eat.

The driver already decided what he wants to eat for dinner (Subway).

You were just quietly waiting by the counter, tapping your nails, all while Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time" was playing on the overhead speakers.

Some people sitting at tables were looking at you, whispering to one another, asking "Is that who I think she is?" and "Is that the chick from WWF with Hunter Hearst Helmsley? Who gave him a blowjob and kissed him in the back of a limo?".

The cashier suddenly handed you some money from the cashier, sliding it to you across the counter.

You noticed the money sliding across the counter, where you snatched the money with your hand and reached your hand down your pocket, pulling your wallet out and opening it.

You placed that money in the wallet and shut your wallet, only to put your wallet back down in your pocket.

"Thank you!" you said to the cashier, smiling at her.

"You're welcome" she replied back, smiling.

Pretty soon, another employee handed your meal to you by sliding it across the counter, your meal inside a box sitting in a plastic bag.

You grabbed the bag by its handles, wrapping your fingers around the handles.

"Thank you!" you smiled at the employee.

"You're welcome" he replied.

He nearly wanted to ask if you're that same chick from the WWF who's a rising, up and coming star in the company, who would be the most searched woman of 1998 on the Internet and do groundbreaking things for pro wrestling, but he is quite nervous.

While walking to the door you entered in, holding that plastic KFC bag, the cashier exclaimed "Have a good day!", waving to you.

You turned your head and looked at her.

"You too!" you replied, "Bye!"

"Bye!" she replied.

You turned your head back to the door, pulling the door's handle and walking out the door, back to the bus.

Once you were right in front of the bus, the driver saw you through the doors, he kept an eye out on you while you were ordering at a KFC.

He opened the doors for you, where now you could enter the room.

You walked and entered the bus, keeping your eyes on the stairs while walking up the stairs so you won't fall down.

Before you could share your meal, you had to ask the driver a question.

"Sir?" you asked, looking at the driver. "Will you drive the bus while we eat?"

He didn't really think about that, but considering tonight you have a wrestling show to do tonight, then probably yes.

You just hope the bus won't hit a bump in the road and get food flying everywhere.

"It's probably better if you guys eat while I won't drive" he decided "So I won't hit a bump and food won't go everywhere".

Whatever you say.

You walked down to where Triple H and Shawn were sitting, where Shawn saw you holding a plastic bag of KFC.

His eyes grew wild seeing you hold that plastic KFC bag, holding your meal in there.

"Guys" you said. "Let's go back to that table in the back"

There was a leather booth to sit in and in front of that booth was a table to eat on.

You raised your other hand not holding the plastic bag and pointed to the table there.

Shawn lifted his ass up from the seat, so did Triple H afterwards.

You ushered them to the leather seats on the side of the bus, and once you were next to the leather booth sewn in on the side inside the bus, you plopped your ass on the seat, sliding your ass across to the middle of the seat.

Once you were in the middle of the leather seat made for many people to sit in, you placed and sat the plastic bag on the table in front of you.

Your hands were holding open the plastic bag, your eyes searched inside that bag, seeing a box with Coronel Sander's face on it.

You put both of your hands on opposite sides of the box in the bag, pulling the box out.

You flipped open the top of the box, where in there, were some chicken tenders, some tiny little dipping sauces of honey mustard, ranch and barbeque sauce, and two small separate cups of mashed potatoes and gravy and coleslaw sealed in a plastic cover and inside a small Styrofoam cups.

Obviously, the mashed potatoes and coleslaw aren't mixed up because that would be disgusting!

Your eyes grew wild as you opened the box, seeing your meal, feeling the same way as you did when you saw that KFC logo.

And yay, they got your order right! Dipping sauces and all!

Shawn and Triple H followed you to that booth.

Before they could sit with you, you had to say something.

"Shawn" you said. "I want you to sit on my right side and Hunter can sit on the left, close to me".

"Why?" Shawn asked.

"You'll find out" you replied, looking evil and naughty.

Shawn couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Whatever she wants.

He walked around the table, where he slid his ass across the seat until he was sitting next to you.

Triple H did the same, sitting on the seat you and Shawn were sharing, sliding his ass across the seat until he was close to you.

They both stared at the meal sitting on the table.

"Alright boys!" you announced, smiling ear-to-ear. "Dig in!"

Shawn reached in the box for one chicken tender and grabbed one, and not just that, but also for the little barbeque dipping sauce, where he pulled the top of it off and dipped that chicken tender in the sauce.

He sat the barbeque sauce on the table.

Triple H, meanwhile, grabbed the coleslaw in the box and a plastic spoon, opening the claw and tearing off the plastic covering the spoon.

You, however, had your eye on something else.

You first grabbed one of the plastic spoons inside the box and tore off the plastic, where you freed that little plastic spoon from oppression, tossing the plastic wrapper away to the floor.

After that, you grabbed the mashed potatoes, wrapping your fingers and palm around the Styrofoam cup, and lifted the cup from the box.

Your hand holding the spoon peeled open the plastic lid on top of the cup, and under that plastic lid were these delicious mashed potatoes smothered in brown gravy.

You dunked your plastic spoon in the mashed potatoes, scooping up a tidbit of mashed potatoes and gravy on top of the spoon, and put the spoon in your mouth, closing your lips as the tip of the spoon was in your mouth.

The mashed potatoes were pretty warm and hot, but delicious.

You gulped down the hot mashed potatoes sitting on your spoon.

However, this wasn't what you planned on doing.

You pulled the tip of your spoon out of your mouth and placed your spoon on the table.

This time, you dunked the tips of your fingers in that Styrofoam cup filled with mashed potatoes and gravy.

The mashed potatoes and gravy slightly hurt and burned the tips of your fingers, but you can still tolerate it.

Your fingers raised from that cup, the tips of your fingers smothered and coated in mashed potatoes and gravy.

Shawn's eyes saw you dip your fingers in the mashed potatoes while he was busy chowing down on a chicken strip.

Is THIS what she wanted to do with those mashed potatoes?

"Why are you dipping your fingers in the mashed potatoes?" Shawn asked, looking confused.

Triple H paused at eating his coleslaw, looking at you and Shawn.

"This is what I wanted to do with you guys at the back of the bus" you confessed. "For me to dip my fingers in mashed potatoes and gravy and both of you men lick and suck them off".

You're afraid Shawn thinks you've gone absolutely mad and crazy, so does Triple H.

"Off of both of my hands" you added.

Shawn actually likes this idea, he loves mashed potatoes and gravy, Triple H doesn't know what to say.

But he somewhat can't resist doing something for you.

At least this isn't something truly insane like taking a dump on someone's face or cutting your head off.

"I actually love mashed potatoes and gravy" Shawn purred, sounding suave and sexy.

"Et tu, Hunter?" you asked Triple H, looking at him. "Hey, at least I don't want to cut your heads off or anything!"

Triple H chuckled at this, so did Shawn, but he decided maybe he could lick and suck your fingers.

"I don't mind it" he decided, smiling.

You smiled right back at him.

You weren't done yet, you dipped the tops of your fingers in the mashed potatoes cup again, getting the tips of your fingers smothered in mashed potatoes and gravy.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Triple H asked, pointing to the Styrofoam cup of mashed potatoes and gravy.

"A little bit, yes" you replied. "But not that much"

You raised your hand up from the cup, the tips of your fingers smothered in mashed potatoes and gravy.

"Alright boys, if you don't mind" you said "Eat and suck away!"

Shawn had already eaten a chicken tender, whereas Triple H was busy eating some coleslaw.

He sat the coleslaw and spoon down on the table and moved himself a little bit closer to you.

Shawn smiled at the tips of your fingers covered in mashed potatoes and gravy, licking his lips.

You held up your fingertips smothered in mashed potatoes and gravy, and Triple H and Shawn both pulled their heads into your hands.

Triple H opened his mouth and wrapped his mouth around the tip of your index finger, where he began sucking the mashed potatoes and gravy off of the tip of your finger.

The mashed potatoes and gravy mix burned his tongue a bit, but he doesn't really mind.

Your finger was bobbing up and down in his mouth, his mouth sucking off the mashed potatoes and gravy, replacing the mashed potatoes and gravy with his saliva.

Shawn was doing the same to your index finger on your other hand, sucking off the mashed potatoes and gravy on your index finger, cleaning it off, replacing the mashed potatoes and gravy with his saliva.

Their saliva was making the tips of your fingers shiny.

When Shawn and HHH were done with your index finger, they moved on to the next finger, your middle one, sucking the tip of your middle finger, cleaning it off, swallowing the mashed potatoes and gravy.

They made sure to get all the mashed potatoes and gravy off of your middle finger.

You actually wish you could have other male wrestlers with you licking off the mashed potatoes off of your fingers, those men being Billy Gunn (who is getting sexier and cuter and never looked any better than by the end of 1997 with New Age Outlaws), British Bulldog/Davey Boy Smith and that cute Rob Van Dam from ECW who stayed for a little while in the WWF at the beginning of 1997.

Bret Hart could join this feast too.

But alas, this isn't to be.

Ah well, better luck next time.

While they were sucking the tips of your middle finger, this is something you have to ask them.

"Guys" you said.

Shawn raised his head slightly up, his eyes looking at you, your middle finger on your right hand in his mouth.

"What if I dipped each finger tip in one dipping sauce?" you asked. "Like, one finger has ranch on top of it, another has honey mustard on top of it, another has barbeque sauce, would you guys lick them all off?"

"You'd be wasting dipping sauce, probably" Shawn chuckled.

Triple H thought we were eating dinner, not having foreplay.

And surprisingly, you don't want to have sex now.

One thing you'd love to do in the future is have men, Shawn and Triple H included, lick KFC dipping sauce off of your naked body, especially honey mustard.

Maybe that could happen in the future.

Triple H had now cleaned off 2 fingers, where he was now down to sucking on your ring finger, stretching his neck out and leaning into your hand, sucking off the mashed potatoes on the top of your fingers.

Shawn, meanwhile, has now moved onto your ring finger, where he began sucking off the top of your ring finger.

As his mouth moved up the top of your finger, the mashed potatoes and gravy mixture had entered his mouth.

They didn't just suck off the mashed potatoes on your ring finger, but their tongues were twirling around the top of your ring finger, making sure to get the mashed potatoes and gravy off of the top of your finger and into their own mouths.

Meanwhile, the driver could see the 3 of you supposedly eating dinner, even though what you guys were really doing was sucking fingers.

He could be driving while all of this is going on, but then mashed potatoes, fried chicken and coleslaw would get everywhere if he hits a bump or if a traffic light changes a different color.

However, he also dozed off to sleep a bit considering he's been driving the bus the entire day.

Once Shawn and Triple H had cleaned your ring fingers, Shawn and Triple H were seemingly down to their last finger to suck on, your pinky finger, where the two of them both sucked on your pinky fingers, the tips of them, and cleaned the tips of them off.

Even though they have sucked off the mashed potatoes and gravy off of your fingers, this scenario isn't done yet, oh no.

While they were sucking your fingers, even though this is a sexy moment and all, having 2 hot men suck your fingers, it isn't orgasmic, you couldn't really have an orgasm over this.

They raised their heads up from your pinky fingers, now the tips of your fingers covered in their saliva.

After they cleaned your fingers, your hand reached into the KFC box and pulled out a chicken strip, where your fingertips were getting some crumbs on your fingers.

Triple H went back to eating that coleslaw whereas Shawn pulled out another chicken strip, and not just that, but peeled off the top of the ranch and honey mustard sauces.

You, on the other hand, reached into the box and picked up a ketchup packet, where you tore the packet at the top where it reads to be torn, and squeezed the packet into an empty space in the box.

Some red ketchup poured out of the packet and landed in the corner of the box.

You dipped that chicken strip you were holding in that ketchup pile, the top of the chicken getting covered in ketchup, much like your fingers were in mashed potatoes and gravy not too long ago.

You directed the chicken into your mouth, where you opened your mouth and took some bites of that chicken, breaking the chicken down into many pieces with your mouth.

The chicken was no longer hot anymore (and you mean hot as in something that burns, not hot as in sexy) and that's a good thing, you don't want your tongue to burn while eating!

Putting that chicken more and more into your mouth, the chicken was being broken down more and more into your mouth thanks to your teeth breaking the chicken down and apart.

And luckily, there was no bone, so they got your order right!

Your fingers, meanwhile, especially your fingertips were getting a little coated in grease.

Shawn had already finished his chicken tender he was taking bites of, where he dipped the tender in ranch, ketchup, and honey mustard, of course, not a mixture of all of those sauces, but...

The last piece of chicken you were holding, you directed it in front of Triple H's face, waving it a bit.

"Y'want this?" you asked him, waving the chicken in your hand.

Even though he doesn't normally eat fried chicken, he probably can have a bite of it.

He took the chicken from your hand, where he dipped it into the ketchup and put it in his mouth, his teeth breaking down the chicken inside his mouth.

Honestly, you weren't done with this scenario of these men licking your fingers.

"Guys" you said. "I'm not finished with you guys sucking my fingers. Now, I want you to suck my fingers after I ate a chicken tender".

Jesus Christ, you keep sounding crazier and crazier.

Shawn could nearly spit his food out at what you said, so could Triple H.

"Well, guys?" you asked. "Are you okay with that?"

Shawn shrugged his shoulders.

Even though tasting chicken grease isn't that pleasant, guess he could do it, so could Triple H.

Shawn leaned his face into your hand sticking up, he saw that hand holding the chicken finger as you ate it.

He wrapped his lips around your pinky finger, where he began sucking the tip of your finger, rolling his tongue around the tip of your finger.

Triple H leaned his head into your hand, stretching your neck, where he wrapped his mouth around the top of your index finger, sucking and cleaning it.

While they were cleaning each and every one of your fingers on your hand by sucking the tops of them, you had to say this.

"Since you guys are sucking my fingers covered in something from KFC" you said "This gives new meaning to the phrase 'Finger lickin' good".

Shawn and Triple H both burst out into laughter, though they knew you would say that.

Not to mention, considering that you're supposed to be riding on the bus to the WWF arena, wonder if you could try to dip each of your fingers in those various dipping sauces and have both men suck and clean them off?

And you wonder if you should offer the driver some of the chicken?

Epilogue: Later on that night, the driver ordered McDonalds and had a bite of your fried chicken, he luckily didn't suck your fingers.

Triple H and Shawn Michaels on the other hand, ate at some restaurant where they ordered something healthy.

They also sucked off the KFC dipping sauce on each of your fingers on the bus ride.

________________________________________________________________

I know this fanfic seems a little silly and strange, but I surprisingly did have this sexual fantasy of Triple H and Shawn sucking off my wrestling OC’s fingers after eating fried chicken and covered in mashed potatoes and gravy! I woke up with this fantasy one morning!

#triple h #shawn michaels #d generation x #dx #1997 #90s #kfc #kentucky fried chicken #wwf #fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

newgameplus · 6 years ago

Note

whoms’t is fireboy? for the ask thing?

this boys a Disaster frm a dream i had at camp here we Go

B A S I C S

full name: WHO KNOWS!!

gender:cis dude

sexuality:gay

pronouns:he/him

O T H E R S

family: all are deceased , but had mother, father and a baby brother

birthplace: its a farming/forested area, think southern midwest

job: n/a

phobias: well, fire, now,

guilty pleasures: reading

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: hhh technically probably like, lawful evil??rly hes just a really Really stupid dude who made a really big mistake

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert: extrovert

organized/disorganized: disorganized

close minded/open-minded: open

calm/anxious: anxious

disagreeable/agreeable: i mean most ppl would attack him on sight just fr what he did but hes tryin

cautious/reckless: reckless

patient/impatient: impatient

outspoken/reserved: leaning slightly towards reserved

leader/follower: follower

empathetic/unemphatic: empathetic

optimistic/pessimistic: pessamistic

traditional/modern: modern

hard-working/lazy: h...hard working i think

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: leon

ot3: uhhh chris and leon

brotp: sandy

notp: sandy....they’re bros...

heres the link to his pintrest board lmao all my other ocs got one too, either marked (d) fr dream, (oc) fr original content or (ch) fr character

#my ocs #he fuckt up real bad n now hes gotta get on w it and make amends #rip him tho big dubm bitch #farah-adrienne-black

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losvers-clubb · 7 years ago

Text

Eddie Kaspbrak had figured out that he was gay as a freshman in high school. It started when his best friend Richie stayed the night and Eddie felt nervous around him, as if he couldn’t act as himself around him. It didn’t come out of the blue, but that night Richie admitted to him that his first kiss was with a boy a few years back, then proceeded to crack a joke to diverse the tension, but it never left Eddies mind. That same night, as they go ready for bed, Eddie was a fumbling mess and couldn’t stop staring at his best friend laying in his bed.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to sleep?”

“I’m thirsty, I’m going to get water” he quickly said, turning quickly towards the door.

“I’ll join you, but I could probably make Mrs K wet by just-“

“Beep beep richie” Eddie groaned, leaving the other boy behind as he carefully closed the door.

In the kitchen he chugged his water, a long with a few of his pills, racking his brain for an explanation for his behavior

In the back of his head a voice screaming I’m gay.

But living in his household, in this era, he knew saying it out loud would probably mean nothing but rejection from his mom and an increase of bullying from the Bowers gang.

When he returned to his room, with a cup of water in hand, he saw Richie curled up on his bed, a bit of drool coming from his lips and his glasses crooked while his head rested on the pillows. Eddie set the glass down and made his way towards the bed, slipping the frames from the sleeping boys face and setting them next to his water. When he crawled into the bed, Richie adjusted himself and slung an arm around Eddies middle. Ed’s tensed up, turned cautiously to check if Rich was awake only to find his eyes closed and and steady breathing.

Fuck he thought to himself, the voice he had shoved to the back making an echo go through his body, not allowing him to fully sleep.

Eddie sat with the losers, at the bus stop where they were supposed to meet up with Richie.

At the end of the school year of the prior year, his dad ha sent him away to be with an uncle to “man him up” and “be responsible for once”. The guy lived on a farm and needed workers, he remembered Richie complaining weeks before he left how much he hated leaving everyone and how it was dumb how he had to be responsible while his “mother” got to lay and drink around all day.

“I t-hhh-ink that’s h-his buh-b-bus” Bill stood up from the huddle, excitedly. The summer stretched him out, making him tower over his friends. Bev, who had a cig between her fingers, quickly threw it on the road and stood up next too, Ben, who had set a goal at 12 that he would lose weight, now stood too, nearly 70 pounds down of fat and a good amount of muscle building up. He had volunteered to help mike around the farm almost every weekend. Stan, like Bill, stretched too, but it was nothing compared to him. Eddie on the other hand, felt lanky and small, somewhere around Bevs height, he stood next to her searching for his best friend from the crowd of people piling out of the bus.

“Big bill!” Eddie heard someone yell, voice deeper than before. Bev and Bill ran up to Richie for a hug, but Eddie was frozen. Gone for a year and god did he grow. His hair was still long and floppy, but his arms were well toned, well, everything was toned. He was tall and his features looked matured, and he looked hot. Eddie felt his cheeks burn up as he starred at his best friend.

“Holy shit what happened to you?” He heard Stan ask, stepping back to admire.

“Snuck off every night to see Ed’s mom, she’s a beast” he said winking towards Eddie.

“Shut the fuck up” Eddie said as Richie pulled him in a tight hug.

He smells heavenly.

After a few exchanges from all the losers of quick “How was the trip” and “what was it like”, Ben suggested they visit the quarry for old times sake.

———

“Jesus fuck I swear the jump seems to get bigger every year” Richie said, leaning over the cliff a bit to look down.

“that’s because you’re suddenly as tall as a fucking tree” Eddie said, pulling his shirt over his head. Richie laughed and pulled his own shirt off, and Eddie swore the gods shone all the spotlights on his body because he glowed.

“Jump” Bev said, smirking to her boys around. When no one moved, she muttered ‘pussys’ and took a leap, few seconds later splashing into the water. Stan, Bill, Mike, and Ben followed behind and splashed around, loud laughter roaring from beneath.

“Your turn spaghetti man” Richie turned to Eddie.

“Remind me why we do this again” Eddie kept his eyes on the losers, too afraid to see how his body would react if he looked up to the ‘new’ Richie.

“Come on” Richie came closer, placing his hand on Eddies lower back. His body heat radiated onto his own and he swore every fiber of his body reacted to Richies finger tips.

Before he could really react, he felt both Richies hands on his waist and was pushed off the cliff, his hand instantly finding Richies and pulling him down with him. All he heard before hitting the water was a quick “fuck” from Richie.

////

SORRY IF ITS BAD I JUST REALLY WANTED TO PUT IT OUT THERE

Ok so who’s gonna take one for the reddie fandom and write this fic

The one where eddie has always been attracted to richie but richie goes away for the summer for whatever and he comes back senior year, toned, tan, and HOT AS FUCK

and eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself

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jackofallworlds · 7 years ago

Text

Of Blood and Brass: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Exposition

The first thing that visitors noticed was the noise. To be perfectly clear, it was the change in noise. There was a hush, a wave of whispering like grass before the wind, a rumble of exclamation like the engine for the rumor mill being kick-started. Where there had been auditory chaos, an entropy of noise spread in all directions, there was an epicenter of looking, listening. Every stand-owner’s heart beat faster, every company man stood taller, every crier and hawker of wares shouted louder into the openness of sound and then, suddenly, quieted. As suddenly as it came, it went, right back into the chaos.

There were five of them. Five not-quite-right visitors. No entourage, no accountants attending, nobody. Only five.

<><><>

Deep in the HCEC’s Outer Pavilion, where hundreds of shopkeepers had set up stands in appropriated bazaar spots, someone in workman’s garb (simple, yet clean) wandered through, occasionally buying food and munching it idly, picking up odd trinkets and mechanisms, weighing tools and implements in a broad hand. There was an air of practical curiosity around the figure, a humble nobility in the appraisals.

Eventually, the sprawling exposition campus of Broadson’s Farming Manufactory saw that figure, far enough back from the stand to keep out of conversations, but close enough to clearly be interested. A broad, slow smile crept across the features of this working-class visitor, below eyes that took in every rivet and gear of the massive combines that sat smoking and gleaming in the Inner Garden, eyes that ravenously took in the shirtless laborers feeding the boilers that had been red-hot for hours. Sam Broadson got chills from those eyes. They had no place in a face like that.

<><><>

Tesibius’ voice took some getting used to. It was like children’s stories about river spirits talking; somehow, the random splatters and burbles of a stream were supposed to form recognizable words. Being encased in a closed system of glass tubes and brass bands, the Inquo’s voice was a combination of fluid moving through a brass organ somewhere deep within the system, and the odd settlings and gurglings of the water in general. Calling it a voice was really not doing it justice. He said things. People knew that he said things, and responded accordingly.

He was in favor. He still thought that, as a side trip, they could break into some hidden vault with unknown treasures (at least two pairs of eyes rolled, but you couldn’t tell with the Shaman’s mask). Whether that happened or not, this would represent access to a whole new biome, a place where alchemical and biological wonders would be in excessive abundance. That, in turn, would open doors to a serious alchemical monopoly.

The construct leaned forward, resting gentle clockwork appendages on the table’s varnished surface, careful not to leave the faintest mar.

Furthermore, the thought continued, surviving accounts of the Underdark described an organism that distilled and used ambient magical energy. Finding a third form of energy production besides chemo- and photo-synthesis would jumpstart sufficient research to make one despair of the endless questions. Among them, the construct noted seriously, was the creation of a biological construct to house the Inquo form, such as it was.

Tesibius smiled (or, at least, the board members knew he was doing that smiling thing, despite no outward physical changes). Who wouldn’t, on top of all that, not want to wonder at the marvelous craftsmanship of the Lady of Life in the presence of no less than dragons? Content with arguments placed on the table, the construct leaned back, fingers clicking softly in concert

<><><>

A tall figure with fiery red hair strode through the HCEC. The spontaneous exposition and convention that had sprung up in the days following the out-of-the-blue article in the Courant interested that figure not at all. Wherever the red hair was seen, so were the piercing eyes, appraising machine shops, workbenches, craftsmen and artisans in the slightest glance, carrying a weight of sneering judgement the most haughty monarch could barely manage. Though hundreds, even thousands of visitors crowded every hall and corridor, this one stood out. You couldn’t help but try to impress those deadly eyes, and fail.

The impatient path was abruptly halted in front of the alchemical spread of Haven Haemonetics and Homunculi. A much shorter tiefling with his half-orc girlfriend ran right into the impeccably dressed figure, and the apology immediately offered died on his lips. Those eyes, up close, were like watching knives being made for the express purpose of a slow death. The tiefling just stopped moving, barely breathing for the fear, and his girlfriend ran away at a dead sprint that would have done her orc chieftan grandfather proud.

Leaving the devil-spawn idiot behind, the figure strode into the Haemonetics sprawl. There were visits at every stand and bench, listening to lectures, testing the samples, measuring with deadly eyes the enhanced volunteers the company produced. No longer mired in the old accusations of necromancy, HHH was using alchemy to increase speed, strength, reflexes. In short, while their PR focused on labor abilities and medical applications, there was really only one thing that the visitor stayed at for longer than a minute; military applications. Super soldiers. Enhancement in a test tube.

Kan DerVeeldt, senior consulting alchemist for the HHH, saw those eyes change. It was the hunger, no longer judging but coveting, that made the cold sweat break out. There were bad memories of a particular gnome he associated with that look.

<><><>

While the construct Tesibius was making his points known, Irvin sat back and looked over the article again. He skimmed a few lines, and then his eyes unfocused. His breathing quickened. His fingers started counting, then just shaking. The very tips of his hair started to change color imperceptibly to an iridescence. Dragon blood and scale, a whole new class of reagants, sample collection, traps, products…

“I’ve decided.” The outburst cut through the pause after Tesibius stopped talking. “I want to go.” There was a short, awkward silence as the rest of the board waited for further explanation, watching the gnome’s hair turn an excited yellow. Just as a different voice was about to be raised, the pieces of Irvin’s thoughts came crashing together into the whole he was waiting for. “It goes like this. Farthington: you get an unreasonable new hold on the weapons market with that plant they just mentioned. Tesibus is already in; I want to go. Kai: you know you can't ignore the possibility of a totally unique and new adventure, and Shamus over there is outvoted no matter what he wants, whatever the hell he wants.”

The Shaman rested a pair of dull-colored fingers at the bridge of his mask’s nose as the alchemist strolled over to the construct and started a muttered conversation. A burned but recognizable tail (nobody wanted to know why, how, or when that tail was procured or turned into functional charcoal) was produced as charcoal as drawings and schematics began to flower on grubby paper. Completely oblivious to all but these plans, the gnome sat on the edge of the table at Tesibius’ hand, diving right into the ideas that came to mind like a wildfire.

<><><>

One moment, there was an empty space of floor. The next, there was an officer.

The uniform was not recognizable, but it was more than that. The way that the boots shone, the polish on the bronze buttons and low-profile medals, the featureless deep of the black and the brilliance of the red, all of it was secondary, costume, the frame. It was the eyes (it was always the eyes). Below a helmet that would have been as bright as chrome for lack of surface imperfections were it not jet-black, two killer’s eyes coldly inspected the vista before them. Those eyes had watched cities burn on their master’s command. They knew the screams of the dying. A bed of ice would be a comfort compared to the mercy in those eyes.

The position was perfect; in the main convention hall, the two primary armaments manufacturers had set up right next to each other, with rows of military products gleaming, ready for inspection. APCs, models of airships and carriers, mobile fortifications, gleaming guns, tickets to weapons tests later in the week. The officer could see attendants spot-polishing as necessary, demonstrating loading and unloading. From the occupied position, the military wealth of Haven was laid out and visible.

The officer stood there for two hours, perfectly still, merely watching.

<><><>

"What a wonderful opportunity for profiteering. What a wonderful chance to acquire spoils." The metal of the Shaman’s bones produces a series of clacks that brings the room to silence for a while. A sarcastic laugh rings out, tinged with the otherworldly quality of his strange lungs. "I do not doubt there are spoils to be found. Maybe we could get ourselves a barking dragon."

Casting aside the pretense of humor, he gently laid his beautiful tin mask on the table, revealing the protruding metal bones and unsettling glass eyes. The visible and colorless muscles settled into a neutral expression as he paced softly on the thick carpet.

"What I am about to say is not going to be popular, but I must offer my perspective so that our group can function as it needs to. I am truly privileged to be in such good company as I seek my answers and ride my life into the infinite. I mean this. But, as I have said in the past, I cannot support profiteering. The Underdark is not a treasure trove; it is an unholy abscess. It may contain answers, knowledge—spoils, even—but we cannot forget that Khoriv fell into the maw of something great and terrible. The Underdark is a shadowy wyrm that writhes in its apparent stillness."

An escaped terrarium beetle, flipped onto its back, took a moment of the Shaman’s time, pausing to crouch silently and flip it over with his little finger, rising to continue his address.

"We see cause and effect, and we need cause and effect, but seeing this opportunity as either cause or effect is folly. The moral world is made of arcs and tendrils, though we perceive instances. I am eager to join any expedition so long as we fear the shadows and respect them as they thrash about."

No one cared to meet the glass eyes as they scanned the room, but the expressions of the other board members illustrated some lack of understanding, some concern, some worry.

"Fear not. I am eager to seek out any knowledge that may help me make sense of my condition, our condition, and something in me longs to delve into the Underdark. It feels right, though I have my worries. Let us respect the unknown, terrible, entropic dangers that await us."

<><><>

Sister Lai of the Order of the Silver Star knew her place. One of the most shunned religious orders in Haven (and that was saying a whole lot), they were one of the three groups which considered dragons to be not-bad. The heretics of the Ascendant Fire claimed that through eventual reincarnation, all stood a chance at becoming a dragon, and the apostates at the Silver Flame claimed that slavery under the dragons had been the only way to achieve righteousness. The Black Sorrow didn’t count, since they were equal opportunity death-cult evil-worshippers. The Silver Star, however, knew that because the dragons were not completely evil, they were capable of understanding right and wrong to a greater extent than small-minded mortals. They knew morality was a longer game, and though Sister Lai did not understand what that long game entailed, she trusted that a dragon could, perhaps, eventually explain it.

She had helped Mother Superior Foli set up the tiny corner stand after paying the convention manager the space rent. They had handed out a few dozen pamphlets, not counting the three that were shredded by angry members of the Silver Flame. It was a good day; there was less hate with the rumor of dragons around.

There was a moment when Mother Superior Foli and Sister Cho had left her alone to man the stand while they went and got food. A moment when a tall figure clad in a featureless white robe approached the stand, their face filled with a surprised curiosity, as if there was an unrecognizable but lovely smell in the air. Sister Lai had been surprised herself, for a moment; if the robe was so white, why wasn’t it more shiny and obvious? As the figure stopped before the stand, looking over the pamphlets and artwork, Sister Lai got a look at the eyes, filled with a sadness deeper than oceans, a mirth higher than clouds, a strength like cold stone. Their eyes met, and Sister Lai experienced a vertigo, double-vision, as she saw something impossible.

The figure left, and Sister Lai could only say to her fellow nuns, “It wasn’t white… it was silver!”

<><><>

Howard Armon Dalius Farthington rotated his ring, a broad steel band emblazoned with the symbol of his work, with mild unease as the Shaman finished talking and returned to his seat. Feeling that the time was right for his own intervention in the discussion, he cleared his throat, pulling the protruding coat of his pinstripe suit into better position around his expansive self.

"Gentlemen!" Howard leaned forward and laid his workman’s hands on the table in front of him, palms face-down, fingers splayed. "I must say, that I would like to hope that none of us would take our own mortality, nor the risk of foregoing enjoying any rewards from this little venture, quite so lightly! Indeed, my dear Shamus, I myself wouldn't underestimate the dangers posed in exploring the vast and unknown Underdark! No, not even if I had my trusty original Dailus Mark I with me!" Howard chuckled at his own joke and beamed at them all brightly. A faint groan of indeterminate origin issued from someone else, but the momentum was his.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no... such casualness won't do. No, it won't do at all." Howard spoke quickly and in a slightly chiding manner, as a father reclining would speak to a growing son. "But gentlemen," he said, resting one thick hand upon the Courant, "in all seriousness, I think that we absolutely must embark upon this quest. Fame, fortune, and knowledge are always useful in my book and I never turn down a chance to make either history or bank. But I think that prudent precautions are important and a level of preparation ought to be considered. Only one life to live, eh?" Howard smiled, nodding at the Shaman in respect.

The prototypical capitalist then turned his attentions on Tesibius and Irvin. "And I just have to hear what you know about this thaumo-synthetic plant, my good Tesibius! And Irvin," Howard said, shifting his gaze towards the alchemist, "if you're in the business of learning more about dragons, just let me know! I have been eager to make some better connections in the Imperium for some time now.” He paused, speaking more to himself. “Real dragons! If I could only have access to some of their military-industrial technology and methods..."

Howard seemed lost in thought for a brief moment before shaking himself out of dreams of gears, steel, and profits. He then put the end of the rolled up newspaper to his chin, his brow furrowed. "Hmmm," he said before looking up and moving his eyes to the only member of the board yet to speak at the table. "You've been rather quiet Kai, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

Kai sat up straight, his reverie broken, his gaze now focused in the present. Since his turn reading the article, his mind had packed up a few important things already. A few small tomes, custom-bound down the street and prepared for loving decoration once their crisp, blank pages had been filled; writing utensils for the road (good, solid charcoal, not one of those ridiculous tail disasters); a small pack of necessities. His mind had already left the building with these items in tow and started traveling, for the moment the words "enter the Underdark" had crossed his retinas, the rest had been merely a symposium of little bright points of happiness. Reconstructing the tension. He shivered with delight as that phrase passes through his consciousness again now.

Ponderously, he said, "I can't recall the last time you bothered to ask my opinion, Howard." Kai does not mean this as a barb, of course. He is simply casually observing the length of time this has taken. It's generally clear they will not agree, but here lies a clear exception.

"I am for it, of course. I understand your concerns, Shaman, of course, but I am sure you know full well not one among us will not seek to pursue this opportunity. I have little doubt we will succeed in acquiring the privilege," he noted, not cockily, just matter-of-factly. "The chance to learn firsthand what has become of an entire society, an entire region lost to the records of history, in all this time isolated from the rest of the world -- what could possibly be more interesting? Sure, we could stay here and read about it someday. But as lovely as books can be as a source, there is absolutely nothing quite like seeing a thing with your own eyes and experiencing it with your own mind. And the fact that it comes with an adventure and so many other mysteries only adds to the case. Surely, we must go. Even were we certain to only find this writhing, unknowable, probably metaphorical wyrm of yours, still I would insist. Would we be true disciples of the Nomad if we planted our roots here and ceased to seek out the new and the unknown? Should the day come that I desire such a thing, I would renounce my path immediately."

He stood up, eager to begin his preparations. "I believe we are decided, then?"

There was a brief pause before the shaman raised his voice hesitantly. "The very notion of such an adventure gives us all pause, indeed." He clasped his hands, tendons clearly twitching, and began to speak cautiously: "A major point of concern is, I believe, the military inclinations of the dragons. If we allow them access to our technology, I fear the worst regarding how… creative they might get. That being said, a sort of performance or exposition may be one of our only ways into their inner sanctum.”

His hands moved, balancing in the air the ideas put forth. "I feel as if we have sufficient Nomadic ability, and technological, alchemical, financial prowess that we could use to show ourselves off not as able fighters but as… entertainment? A distraction. Of course, this would not be our true goal, although a troupe of performing artists is no less noble than any other institution of purpose. We could be... The Halcyon Troupe. Or Group, depending on our mission." He chuckled, a thin sound from such a throat as his.

"I say we dazzle them, confuse them, and keep things strictly superficial, strictly economic. They will doubtless inquire about my appearance, but careful costuming should take care of that. As for Tesibius... Do we want to reveal our mechanical man? I don't know if my ideas are making any sense, or if they are feasible, but perhaps they resonate with the group in some way?"

Tesibius considered the idea. He was in favor either way, but in his consideration there were some minor problems. First, while he was capable of deception magics through his own powers, he was more a student of life magics and could not put up more than a simple defense. Second, any deception could be brushed aside by the legendary prowess of dragons. These were ancient creatures, steeped in lore and power, and the obscuring of form by a spirit less strong than they would go over poorly. Finally, and with emphasis, he really wanted to get in the good graces of the dragons, and not risk anything. There were some things they might not want to show the dragons, but why risk it? One thing the Shaman got right was the idea of entertainment; they should be dazzled, blown away by the work put on by the Foundation.

Howard nodded, starting his addition in the not-quite-silence after Tesibius stopped speaking (it was always strange not going off of auditory cues for conversation). “We must play to our strengths, which are many. Anything less and we risk the money, the fame, the opportunity, and I think we are all clear on how important this is. I believe we have significant preparation ahead of us; we should meet at the end of business today and go over our initial plans, start fitting them together.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them as over a fire, a wide and predatory grin fitting his features well.

<><><>

The Farthington Industries and the Transitive Anthropology Foundation separately applied for and got huge exposition spaces in the HCEC Main Convention Hall. Howard Farthington was a high-leverage sort of man, and despite the obvious complaint of “they’re basically the same thing, why do you need two you complete bastard” he was able to strong-arm the ad hoc exposition board into doing what he wanted. It was capital well spent.

The Farthington/TAF campus was, therefore, easily twice as large as the next biggest competitor (as it certainly was understood to be a competition). Half of the convention hall was filled with a tightly organized display of the absolute mastery of the combined organizations. Petrochemicals and alchemicals were produced in small and fiercely precise batches, overseen by Irvin and his immediate staff. A small weapons foundry, with the fastest assembly workers in the company, had been running the whole day, producing dozens of Mark I rifles every hour. Lecturers were drawn from the general research staff to describe the host of products and projects being developed within the massive facilities to the north of Haven proper. Kai himself was doing a lecture series describing the expeditions funded by the organizations in great detail, resplendent in his traveling gear, walking through his memories with the hundreds of available artifacts. The Shaman was part of a small, slightly disturbing, yet quite popular exhibit where he did calisthenics (with his mask on) while people watched. Howard was everywhere, gladhanding politicians and competitors alike, always watching for the dragons, always counting ticket sales.

Tesibius was manning the terrarium exhibits, his nature hidden from view with a small cloak of magic and flannel. Visitors came through regularly, more to enjoy the peace and quiet, to marvel at the biological curation, than to investigate. It was a quiet corner, and it was his. Tesibius was happy, for his work to be appreciated, and to walk among the humans. It had been a while.

Sometime in the late afternoon, he found himself alone among his plants and creatures. He did not tire in any normal sense, but it was nice to not worry about people touching fragile specimens. The construct wandered through his territory, taking note of any problems. His attention was so focused on his work that he almost ran into a visitor. Tesibius looked up to offer an apology, but stopped short. A question then rose in his mind, but was quieted almost immediately as the obvious answer prevented it.

The visitor was tall, not tall and thin, but off-scale tall. His clothes were woven from a fine golden flax, with threads of red woven in intricate patterns. He was completely bald with skin as dark as charcoal, which provided an exquisite contrast for the light green eyes that now curiously took in the construct’s appearance. Tesibius, however, saw something vastly different. To a spirit, the world looks far different than that seen by mortals.

He saw the years and the power. He saw the vast knowledge that he was measured against in that inscrutable mind. When a hand extended to touch him in the center of his ‘chest’, he expected a far different set of digits than the hand of flesh and bone. When a grin of surprise spread across the visitor’s face, he expected a far different set of teeth than the perfect pearly whites on display. A spirit’s double vision takes in what is, not just what is seen.

This visitor, this dragon, was practically twitching in excitement and curiosity. Tesibius knew (he knew) that he was completely unknown to this ancient mind, and currently unknowable. He felt that, perhaps, there was more than just economics behind the treaty. The two creatures from outside the mortal ken spent a few more minutes together before the dragon bowed, and left.

<><><>

“You what?”

I know what I saw.

“There’s no way, we didn’t see it, him, her, whatever, at all-”

That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.

“No, good Tesibius, there honestly isn’t a way that happened. My man at the ticket booth saw no-one like that.”

Your man was wrong.

“How did you get so lucky? How? I must have seen half of the visitors to the expo, my throat will be sore for weeks, and I didn’t so much as catch a glance

Really?

“Really.”

Do you want tea for that?

“Actually, would you mind? I’m sure you’ve got something good.”

“Tea needs aside, I was kind of expecting someone to show up. I heard just before lunch from one of my old staff members who got poached by Haemonetics that a really weird guy, all red or whatever, rolled up and acted like he knew everything.”

“Who?”

“Who what?”

“Who got poached?”

“That kid, the uh, where’s he from, back country Arimicia, the hick. Wanted to study creature development for farming. We stay in touch.”

I liked him.

“We all did.”

“If this was a dragon, are we surprised that it moved in mysterious ways? It went where it wanted, saw what it wanted, and left. As the wind blows without source or home, so a dragon must fly… or move.”

“Honestly, that’s an entirely fair point.”

“Did you hear about the officer?”

“I saw him when I went out for some food. He stood like a stone of hate, like an engine of fury and death idling in the snow. I avoided him like the plague.”

I am even more glad I didn’t leave the terrariums.

“Seriously.”

“So what now?”

“I guess we wait? It all kind of went according to schedule, and a lot of other deals and business happened besides the dragons.”

<><><>

The sigil of the Imperium is straightforward and immediately recognizable. On a background of an context-appropriate color, a metallic circle is embossed, circumscribing a dragon displayed affronte with head to dexter. Banners of Saurian legions have text, mottos of their company, names of their origin districts, sometimes additional details. The diplomatic corps has the dragon passant in peacetime, perched overt in war with small humanoids in its claw.

A package had arrived at the foundation, with two letters. The first was from the attache to the Imperium embassy in Haven (an incredibly imposing Saurian by the name of Doriadus). Inside was a congratulatory letter with a request for an audience in three days’ time to discuss the second letter. The second letter, which Howard had resisted opening until the board had gathered, was contained in an envelope of unmatched paper quality. On its surface, a red-gold sigil, with the words De Imperium Draconis Nobilis in impossibly fine letters below. The silence was a physical presence in the boardroom as Howard solemnly opened the envelope and withdrew the letter.

By authority of the Golden Emperor, Protector of the Imperium, Flame of Bahamut, Mighty and Invulnerable:

In accordance with the Eighth Treaty of Haven, signed on Midsummer’s Day in this year of the Age of Fire:

By unanimous vote of the Council for Underdark Expedition Selection:

The submission by the Farthington Industries Company, and by extension the Transitive Anthropology Foundation, for exploration of the Underdark through the Coboldia Delve is probationally accepted. Further progression towards a successful bid will be fulfilled by more extensive presentation.

The five representatives of the Council will examine the board members of the Transitive Anthropology Foundation accordingly:

Tesibius, Inquo and construct of ancient make, by Cauraelus of the First Order.

The elf, shaman of indeterminate origin, by Ardurian of the Second Order.

Howard Armon Dalius Farthington, master of his industries, by Ordiadus of the Third Order.

Irvin Wildhair, artificer and alchemist, by Elodicius of the Fourth Order.

Kai Longstrider, adventurer and nomad, by Harodaius of the Fifth Order.

A representative will inform you of the additional details and examination criteria that you will need to meet in order to submit a complete bid for the exploration contract. A successful bid will result in a final interview with the Council, financial backing from the Imperium for preparation, and travel visas through the Neutral Zone and to the Delve.

Offer no less than all you have to show.

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Three other companies received similar letters, the Courant quickly learned: Haven Haemonetics and Homunculi, the dwarven construction firm Kopatel, and an international team representing the HCEC itself. The dragons had made their offer to Haven’s (and the world’s) finest, and though generous things were being given, they were offered in a claw.

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