#damianstarter

[acolyterose]

@howlforahookup​ location: Waffle House, Lycanville notes: when harry met sally (with a knot)

A waffle house in the dead center of magical lycan town was not on Atlas’ bucket list, but as his favourite podcaster had once said: his dick had led him places that he wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Abandoned hotels, behind dumpsters of some of the sketchiest alleys you’ve ever seen, basements straight out of a serial killer’s wet dream - sheetless stained mattresses on dormitory floors. A waffle house was a step up. Atlas was at the whims of the app, he did as it bid and if that meant spreading wide next to a bottle of maple syrup he was ready to do so. “Sorry for the lack of hole pic,” Atlas smirked, he was always nervous at this point, he could flirt and say some of the raunchiest shit you’ve ever heard - but making the first move was not his strong suit. “I was doing a whole you’ve got mail thing, Meg Ryan would never send out pics of her ass.” 

[assanx]

@howlforahookup​ location: labyrinth - school lunchroom  notes: tuna (disastrous)

Asleep when everything had gone down, Assan woke up, sat up, and immediately hit his head on the lunchroom table that he’d appeared under. He rubbed at his forehead as he crawled out from under it before he stood, This is different. Assan thought as he looked around, rusted metal and peeling wallpaper. His stomach growled and he looked towards the dingy looking kitchen - there might have been something in there, twinkies lasted forever and this place looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. Damian was there already, the lycan that was always trying to steal his food. Assan stomped his way towards him before he grabbed the other’s shoulder to give him a piece of his tuna mind when all of a sudden - something - with a lot of tentacles that looked vaguely human loomed over them. Out of pure shock, Assan gasped, “Tuna!” He yelled as he pushed Damian to the ground, immediately a force ripped its way from his throat and with percussive force the mindflayer exploded as guts, viscera, squid-like ink and alien blood splattered himself and Damian. Assan’s hands came over his mouth as his eyes went wide, that wasn’t supposed to happen when he said normal words. Now his throat hurt too and here he was without his cough syrup.

[acolyterose]

@howlforahookup​ location: somewhere on the forest’s edge notes: knot for knot

Bruises would heal eventually, but there were some things that would never fade. Atlas kept waiting to feel different, like he’d go to bed and then wake up the next morning and his mom would be there again. Like how she used to be. A bright smile that beamed from the kitchen as she whistled a medley of tunes in perfect pitch and synchronicity - she’d been one of Sweet Adelines back home and used to love it. She could sing, Atlas couldn’t. Deborah Rose had gotten sick and the singing had stopped, so had the breakfasts but the smile never changed. Even from her deathbed she’d managed to look at Atlas and brighten the room. He didn’t think he could do that either. 

Mornings were the hardest, when Atlas woke up and remembered that she was gone. Sometime in middle school he’d taken up running and never really stopped, running running running as if there was somewhere he was headed. That’s how his day started, a jog and then some version of training - magic or combat or shifting - sometimes all of them or just a concentration on one. The busier the better. 

Atlas’ jog brought him to the forest’s edge, where he paused to catch his breath with his hands on his hips. “Damian?” The lycan was familiar, though the last time they’d seen each other already felt like a lifetime ago, the many connections of hookup culture. “Did uh, did you get my muffin basket?”