#he’s a traumatized fish man who’s trying to do what he needs to do to survive

[inkspottie]

Sebastian has this new voiceline where if you try to climb on him, he asks you to stop but if u keep doing he starts to yell to not touch him. He sounds angry and a bit scared and its heartbreaking :(

I know it’s so sad! I know a lot of people are upset about it cuz he’s mean, but it’s like he’s probably been touched and manhandled by everything and everyone so it makes sense.

Poor guy just needs his space and let him do his job!

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: fix you

pairing: aaron warner x (first person) reader

synopsis: aaron returns from a meeting with his father, but something is off… (prior to the ignite me tattoo btw)

warnings: mentions of abuse, a bit suggestive at the end ;)

a/n: first aaron warner fic ever… thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @sweetlikeanangel @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @bewitchingkisses @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces

I hear someone stumble in and immediately panic seizes my chest. Aaron Warner doesn’t stumble, so logically it must be an intruder. But who the hell would’ve found a way into Aaron’s private quarters? I don’t care, I grab the gun from under the floor board and slowly approach the door. My heart bangs in my chest, crawling its way to my mouth. It’s so dark that I can barely see a thing. I hear a second step taken and I can tell by the way the weight is hitting the floor unevenly that it’s a shaky step. I take my chance and swiftly rush out, gun pointed towards the figure.

“You’re holding that all wrong, love,” says a dry voice.

“Aaron?” I ask, my voice catches in shock. I squint through the darkness in attempts to recognise him.

“Care to explain the gun?” he replies, eyebrows raised at my questionably aimed weapon.

“I thought you were an intruder,” I say, dropping my arms down to my side and playing the gun down.

“I am not,” Aaron tells me bluntly.

“Obviously,” I smile, attempting to touch his arm. But just as a go to clasp my hand around it, he moves.

Swiftly and almost silently, he walks past me. I feel his body brush against mine softly.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need to shower,” he replies.

There’s something off about him. He stumbled in, his voice is uneven, he wants to get away from me. Something happened and I have this horrible feeling that it was something horrible.

“Are you okay?” I say, trying to seem casual.

“Fine,” he replies. His tone is blunt but cut-throat. He can tell I’m fishing for what’s really wrong and he’s making it clear he doesn’t want to talk. Unfortunately for him, he chose the wrong girl if he wants me to shut up and move on.

“Did it go okay?” I continue.

“It went how it usually did,” he tells me, his voice low.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. I knew who his dad was and how he was treated, I knew the traumatic stories of his childhood and the bad memories that would haunt him at night, I knew I wanted to kill the man who’d given them to him. But one thing I never knew was anything to do with the meetings held with his dad.

“You know my father, love. He isn’t a pleasant man and nor are his meetings,” he says plainly, “now I’m going to wash.”

He walks towards the bathroom, flicking the light on. The brightness is fluorescent and artificial. I begin to follow him and then I see it. I stop in my tracks. Reams of crimson ribbon decorate the back of his white shirt, jagged lines of the deepest blood red. The fabric has soaked in the liquid and it’s splayed out all across the white. My stomach turns.

“Aaron…” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Please, love,” he sighs, running a hand through his perfect hair, “I need to shower.”

“He hurt you,” I murmured, “again?”

He freezes suddenly, realising he’s bled through his white shirt. He’s too exposed to hide it from me this time. He can’t brush it under the carpet when the stains are on the surface. He lifts his head up, back still towards me.

“Don’t,” he says harshly, his voice so low it sounds dangerous.

I don’t say a word as he walks into the bathroom, but my legs can’t help but follow even though my brain is telling them it might be a better idea to not. I step inside quietly and I can feel his body tense.

“Aaron-“

“I said don’t,” he repeats, the bitterness in his tone making me flinch.

Something that resembles anger flickers in my chest. An amber flame of fury.

“Sit down,” I say, my voice firm and unwavering.

He stills, staring down. I don’t say a word and neither does he. In the silence, the air grows heavy and thick, weighted with unspoken words. I don’t know how long we stand like this until slowly he sits down on the lid of the toilet. I wait a few beats, then slowly crouch down, level with his knees and his eyes shooting straight to the floor.

“He hurt you again, didn’t he?” I ask for the second time.

He’s silent.

“Please Aaron,” I beg, “you can’t keep doing this.”

The desperation in my tone makes his heart ache, but still he doesn’t look at me as he says, “he’s hurt me my entire life, love, today he was no different.”

“Show me,” I murmured.

“I don’t want you to see this,” he grits through his teeth, still refusing to meet my eyes.

“I don’t care,” I say, “you can’t keep shutting me out.”

“I can and I will,” he replied curtly, turning away.

“Warner,” I snap, in an attempt to get his attention.

He looks up sharply. His green eyes flicker with some sort of hurt. I never called him Warner, he was my Aaron. Warner was for everyone else, but Aaron was for me.

“Let me help you,” I say firmly, “you need to let me in like I let you in, this goes two ways.”

He stares at me saying nothing for a while. I wonder when he’s going to get up and walk out. Maybe leave completely. Forever. That thought scares me the most. Aaron shuts down when he can’t share his problems. He shuts down and shuts me out.

I am surprised when he slowly takes his shirt off, revealing his battered back. I bite back a gasp and conceal the shock and horror from being displayed on my face. Amongst the jagged scars that ripple across his back, the ones I already knew of, the ones I had once traced, there were fresh wounds. Long, distorted shapes are looping across him, oozing fresh hot blood. Great purple bruises splayed out of the sides of each lash mark, creating some sort of sick and twisted abstract art piece.

He must be in so much pain.

“It’s a shame really,” he murmurs, “I quite liked that shirt.”

I pull myself together, “you have a dozen others like it.”

“I liked that one,” he replies quietly.

“I like you without a shirt better anyways,” I grin at him.

“Well,” he says cracking a half smile, “I suppose I can spare it then.”

“I suppose you can.”

I grab a wash cloth from the cabinet above and soak it with warm water. Gently, I dab his new lashings, trying to wash them. The deep red bleeds through the white of the cloth, spreading through it, like a river of hate. With each stroke I see his face contort.

“Does this hurt?” I ask tenderly.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his voice hard.

“You’re wincing,” I say flatly.

He glares at me. It’s hot.

“I’m fine,” he states.

I drop it and continue to clean. When I am satisfied that I’ve done the best I can, I return to the cabinet and pull out antiseptic and bandages.

“Not antiseptic,” Aaron grumbles.

“Don’t be a baby,” I retort with a laugh, cutting the bandages to the right size.

“I’m not!” he says, a bit too defensively.

“I’m not letting those wounds get infected Aaron, I’m using antiseptic,” I tell him, unable to suppress my smile.

He rolls his eyes and reluctantly lets me press antiseptic into each open gash. He hisses each time, refusing to cry out so I attempt to be as quick and efficient as I can.

When I am finished, I move on the bandages. I stand in front of him and work around. Gently, I wrap the bandage over his back and torso. His hands suddenly clasp my waist, his grip is firm. I bite back a gasp. His hands are so hot I can feel them through my clothes, though in this moment I wish I didn’t have the barrier of clothes.

I try to ignore the distraction he knows he’s making. Softly and methodically I continue to bandage his back and once I make the final wrap I lean down and press my lips on his. He kisses back eagerly, pulling me onto his lap. I wrap my thighs around his hips and continue to plant tender kisses all over his mouth. I’m dizzied by the sensations of passion. We pull away finally when neither of us can think straight and his eyes lock with mine, the delicate green tainted with something I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“How do you feel?” I ask, brushing a strand of blonde that had fallen, out of the way.

“After that,” he murmurs with a grin, “on top of the world.”

“Your back,” I deadpan.

“I don’t care about my back,” he groans, “kiss me again.”

“Aaron,” I say, my tone accusing.

“Please, love,” he begs, closing his eyes, “I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms here.”

“Aaron,” I laugh.

“Just one kiss, it won’t hurt,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. His touch so airy I almost don’t feel it.

“I’m not kissing you until you answer me,” I reply.

“You like to make my life difficult don’t you?” he sighs.

“Ditto,” I poke my tongue out.

“It’s much better now you’ve worked your magic,” he answers my question, gazing at me.

There’s a long pause, but it feels like our eyes carry on the conversation. But every time I look into those emerald voids, I feel his pain. And it makes me see red.

“He shouldn’t do this to you,” I murmur, anger lacing my tone.

“I know,” he replies.

“I hate it,” I practically growl, my face all screwed up at the thought of someone hurting Aaron. My Aaron. I hadn’t had time to get angry earlier, I’d been too worried about the wounds. Now they were clean and dressed, I have the opportunity.

“I know,” he says again.

“I want to stop it,” I tell him, then falter, “but I don’t know how.”

“I’ve been trying to work that out for a while, love,” he says, nuzzling into my collarbone.

“Just,” I pause and sigh, “please let me help you, you don’t have to hide for everyone you know.”

“It’s what I know how to do,” he murmurs, looking up, “opening up is the opposite of how I was trained to be.”

“But you’ll try?” I ask hopefully.

“I’ll do anything for you, love,” he smiles, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I smile, my cheeks glowing a soft pink.

“I love you,” he whispers with another kiss.

“I love you too,” I giggle, melting into him.

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me slowly, tenderly. The motion is long and drawn out, each millisecond testing my self control. Desperation claws at me, all I want to do is kiss him harder and faster but I stay patient. My hands find their way to the back of his neck and comfortably into his hair.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says against my lips.

“You don’t sleep until three o’clock in the morning,” I scoff.

He turns and looks at me, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk placed comfortably on his lips, “who says we’re sleeping?”

a/n: this is my first aaron warner fic and cut me some slack bc I have not read shatter me in months, I really should do another reread… but hopefully I captured the characters okay. But tbh after reading it back I kind of hate it, it feels rushed and weird but yolo so I’m posting it anyways!!

and I know what you’re thinking ‘bella you promised us the mysterious blonde part 4’… I know it is being written, it’s just really long and I want it to be perfect so there are a few little fics in between

shatter me masterlist

[faeriekit]

Out on a Limb

phic phight prompt is from @bibliophilea

warnings for: lighthearted body horror, limb loss, limb...uh...movin' around

*~💚💚💚~*

When Danny said he could lend a hand, he didn't quite mean like this.

“UH,” said Tucker.

“UH,” said Danny.

Both of them watched his disembodied hand flop around on the shop class floor. It was kind of like watching a dead fish die, but…worse. Since. You know. It was Danny’s hand.

“I’m telling Mr. Richards,” Tucker declared, voice high and loud—and it took two tries to cover Tucker’s mouth his hand, because Danny had automatically reached out with his right but that was on the floor, and—look! It was fine! It was fine and no one needed to know!

“Tucker you can’t tell anyone,” Danny hissed, immediately, unable to draw Tucker closer to threaten him and silence him simultaneously so Danny might have been a little more under stress than usual. “Tucker, my hand’s not bleeding. Just…just put it back on!”

“What do you mean, put it back on?!” Tucker hissed, looking like he was about to cry. Danny felt so bad but also that was his hand! “Danny, what do you mean?!”

“It’ll work!” Danny lied as quietly as he could, casting wary glances around the shop. So far no one was looking at them, even though their table saw had gone quiet. Everyone else was carefully cutting wooden planks, as oblivious as they could be in their giant orange earmuffs. And, so maybe Danny wasn’t sure if this would work! But! They had to try! “Just stick it on!”

“You want me to touch your decapitated hand?!”

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” a voice asked from behind their assigned shop station.

Tucker and Danny froze.

Mr. Richards, an old man who taught shop class and wore exclusively plaid flannel, raised a grey eyebrow.

“…No,” Danny and Tucker lied simultaneously, if perhaps a little offbeat from each other. Danny quickly hid his remarkably raw stump behind his back.

The other eyebrow rose. “In that case, shall we get back to the task at hand? Those planks won’t size themselves, you know.”

Danny and Tucker mumbled something suitably contrite. Tucker wasn’t able to tear his too-wide eyes away from the flopping, writhing, finger-curling hand on the dirty shop floor—

And Danny ‘casually’ dropped a flat shop pencil onto the floor, giving Tucker the excuse to go get the thing. Tucker ducked down without a word.

Mr. Richards crossed his arms. Clicked his tongue. “I thought you of all kids would know to be careful in a workroom, Fenton. It’ll pay to be more careful; you never know if a machine will take something off while you’re not paying attention.”

“Yessir,” Danny squeaked, and shoved down the terrified laughter clawing away at his insides. It was only hysteria.

Something cold and wet slapped itself onto Danny’s stump. Danny flinched.

“Do you have your planks ready?”

Danny swallowed. Tucker stood, looking only slightly more traumatized than he had been when the hand first decided to make its grand departure from the rest of Danny’s body. “…Uh huh.”

“Good. Load them up onto the table for me, then. Show me your guide lines.”

Danny lifted and laid the planks with a shaking hand. Mr. Richards’ expression indicated how little he thought of that.

“Both hands.”

…Danny lifted a hand onto the board.

Mr. Richards stared. Tucker chewed on his lip.

…Danny lifted a second, twitching hand onto the board—hey, his hand?? Was back on?? Thank God for Tucker Foley.

But his hand was definitely not okay; even with the machine on, Danny had to jerk his writhing hand away from the serrated blade more than once. It looked, uh, bad. His hand looked bad. Grey. Taut. Kind of like it was seizing, or, you know…dying of blood loss.

“Fenton…” His shop teacher stared. “...Go to the nurse’s office.”

Tucker grinned with all his teeth, and grabbed Danny’s good hand before Danny could say anything in one way or another. “Great! I’ll walk him. Come on, Danny—if you’re not feeling well, we should go!”

Any excuse was a good excuse. “Yeah, oops. Sorry.” Danny didn’t stop making excuses for himself just in case, even as Tucker veritably shoved him through the shop class door. “Didn’t even notice I was getting muscle spasms; I should probably go get medication for it—“

Neither of them stopped moving until the door was slammed shut behind them.

Danny stared down at his writhing, if…properly attached hand. He tried to stretch his fingers.

The only wriggled worse. It felt like trying to attack worms his hands…only. You know. His worms were the hands. Or. Uh. His hands were the worms.

…Danny needed some water and 600 mg. ibuprofen. Stat.

“I,” Tucker started. And then he stopped. “I am never trusting your intangibility ever again.”

Danny stared at his self-possessed, wriggling hand. “Yeah, probably,” he agreed faintly.

[asmolguy]

Gonna make a list of characters that are so painfully little coded everything in my brain just goes “baby” whenever I watch them. Plus one caregiver. (And one real dude which feels kinda rude since he’s just like. A guy. Living his life. So you can ignore that one. But I wanted to point it out.)

Lloyd from Lego ninjago. Dude. Canon family trauma + canon forced to end his childhood early. Prime agere material. There are so many good fics of little Lloyd just littling. He’s tiny boi. So baby. So perfect.

Cole from Lego ninjago. He is. So caregiver built. I think it hurts to watch sometimes. So gentle so sweet. Get this man a child or a little or something to care for I swear. He just needs to parent. It’s in his blood and carved into his bones.

Branch from trolls. Ya’ll did you watch movie 3? The family trauma times two. The way he uses a pacifier to lock in. Someone was straight up weaving that into the fabric of his being as a character. He’s not little coded he’s little written. Plus in the show he has a little stuffie named Croco and I love that for him. There’s also some good agere Branch fics, but not enough. I need more. Pwease. He is so smol and so grumpy just everyone write him as the baby boi he deserves to be I beg.

Spider-Man but specifically for ultimate Spider-Man (btw if anyone’s looking for good regression shows and you fall around like 5-10 it’s a very good show because it’s long and has a good mix of humor and that show is my jam dude when I’m big and little). But anyone. Ultimate Spider-Mans Spider-Man is so stressed all of the time. He is just a teen. And he’s handling so many unruly teens. And in the later seasons when he’s handling the entirety of shield while being worried about nova. Give the boy a break and let someone take care of him. He’s both little and caregiver coded btw. I adore the fics where everyone calls him daddy longlegs because that is straight up what the last season is. Just him being a father to all these troubled ass powered teenagers while being so troubled himself. But then he’s also so little. He pouts and needs so much love and he’s scared all of the time and he is traumatized and then that one ep where that got turned into those weird chibi things the show tried to convince us were children I want to believe awakened something in him and he is now little sometimes.

Ian Hecox. Listen. I am aware that he is just a dude. Like a real guy. Who cannot be coded because he just exists. But I see. So much of myself in him. It kind of makes a part of my heart hurt that no one like every really seriously criticizes his more childish behavior (even for the bit on a YouTube video) because it makes me feel better about the small ways I slip in public or with my friends sometimes. There’s literally “everyone babying Ian hecox” comps online. His habit of saying scawed or newvous is unironically a blessing and curse since now all my friends who also watch Smosh do it so it’s not weird if I do it but then sometimes I have to pause and be like “is this for the bit or am I slipping right now. Both? Neither?” That one tntl (#91) where they did the blind pairs (btw one of the funniest ones ever in my opinion absolute hall of famer, the fish one, burning the pool, m’lei, all incredible bits. It’s like. The video I show people to try to get them into Smosh.) and Ian puts on overalls and walks out with an Elmo and is like “I’m five” and then after the bit is over he stays in character and when he’s like “elmo…” and damien is like “yeah bud I made sure to miss him with the spit” and then Ian drags the toy through he spit and everyone in the room is just like “aww man” like everyone is truly just like Ian dude you got your stuffed animal wet. Also Anthony being able to fully pick Ian up and carry him multiple ways. If you watch the behind the scenes for the my best friend is dead video Anthony 1. Is pumped to pick Ian up. 2. Does a baby cradle with Ian more than successfully. 3. Says “I got you bud” when Ian gets nervous and Ian goes “ok” in this tiny little voice and instantly relaxes. 4. When Anthony puts Ian down Ian follows him making grabby hands and says “I want uppies”. More little Ian caregiver Anthony fics when. Except not really because again don’t really want to put any of this on real people just doing comedic bits that I happen to feel in my soul a bit too much.

And finally, Max thunderman. I mean. Just watch the show. The pouts. The frequent fake sobbing and sniffling. The fact that he needs a childhood back after Phoebe was put on a pedestal. Someone give me soft thundertwins fic where max is a little and Phoebe is a cargegiver please I need it. And I am. So bad at writing. I would love you forever and ever if you did.

[grimace-writes]

New Kid New Love

{NKIT No 4.0}

GN!Reader x Task Force 141 { Ending Epilogue }

DNI IF YOU AREN'T A FAN OF MILD GORE!!

{TW: THIS STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES, BLOOD, MILD GORE! PURLEY FICTION!!}

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

Summary: {Y/N} has been in the hospital since their mission mishaps, due to the severity of their injuries they couldn't have visitors until now. Who from the team was the first to visit them?

Word count: {560}

Art by Me { @ghostswow }

(3rd Person POV | They/Them so anyone can read :) | Mid Twenties to Early Thirties)

[Enjoy! (๑ º ᗜ º๑) ノ♡ ]

-——————⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚°˖✧˚ʚ🦋ɞ˚✧˖° ˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆ ˚｡⋆——————-

“Do you remember what happened?” An older man in a white lab coat asked, standing at the foot of their bed.

“Don’t do this..Keep your eyes open, luv…” 

“In pieces..(liar)” Their voice cracked as a sharp pain flashed through their head to the memories.

“It’s okay, beautiful, you are going to be more than fantastic..I-I promise..”

“That’s normal for patients to experience when going through a traumatic event, best to focus on rest for now,” The doctor explained, causing them to wince more.

“They aren’t moving, why aren’t they moving..Please Duckie, Wake up.” 

“I know that..I just…I just wanna be left alone please..” They said looking out the window avoiding the look of pity from their medical colleague, who left them without further comment. 

“You don’t get to leave us just yet, Hen. Not now..”

{Y/N} took a shaky breath trying to gaze at the clouds, their vision blurred as tears began to fall down their cheeks, the image of their previous mission replaying vividly in their mind. 

—————————————————————————

“No..It’s not supposed to be like this..” 

“{C/N}!”

Ghost ran towards them first with Price and Gaz giving him cover, he hoisted them into his arms. The team had no time to panic as they needed to just escape, luckily they made it to an incline to provide them the needed cover.

{Y/N} coughed weakly, blood coating the palm of their hand as they tried to stay conscious, shocking rapidly to setting in. “Don’t do this..Keep your eyes open, luv…” Ghost’s voice sounded so distant even though he was practically shouting, the ungodly ringing in their ears overshadowed him. 

It felt like they were watching a movie, their life on a big screen as they were carried to the helicopter to them being placed onto the bench seat. Only being forced back into their body by the fiery pain of disinfectant being poured into their wound. “It’s okay, beautiful, you are going to be more than fantastic..I-I promise..” Gaz spoke with fear in his tone as he tried to fish out the bullet with a pair of forceps, “I almost got it..” {Y/N} threw their head back groaning, one hand gripping the fabric of the backrest and the other on Gaz’s shoulder. 

The pain began softened to the sound of metal hitting metal, the loud humming of the helicopter mixing with the ringing that has come back with a vengeance. {Y/N}’s only solace was clenching their eyes shut, it was way past too much for them. ‘I just wanna sleep..A nap isn’t gonna hurt..’

Their intense grip quickly loosened as they lost consciousness, their breathing was starting to slow down. “They aren’t moving, why aren’t they moving..Please Duckie, Wake up.”  Soap dropped to his knees next to them, taking their hand in his.

“You don’t get to leave us just yet, Hen. Not now..” Price’s voice caught in his throat as he weakly ordered his subordinate to stay alive, the whole team praying for them to get back to base quickly. 

—————————————————————————

Mild knocking broke them for their memories, they wiped their face with the back of their hand before they faced their visitor. {Y/N}’s shallow expression softened as a tender smile formed on their face to the sight of their favorite flowers and a..

↳..Plush Plague Doctor. {Ghost}

↳..Plush Duckling. {Soap}

↳..Plush Cat. {Gaz}

↳..Plush Otter. {Price}

-——————⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚°˖✧˚ʚ🦋ɞ˚✧˖° ˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆ ˚｡⋆——————-

Author's Note: The long awaited romance, note each story have similar elements with a twist to match each of the boys. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Let me know what you thought of it, Love Love~

(o´ ω `o)💕💕

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

[lillaydee]

Tingled Part 11

Francisco 'Catfish' Morales / Reader

Joel Miller (No Outbreak) / Reader

Starting fresh in the big city, you were still questioning your worth after the way you were treated by your ex and his daughter, desperately trying to leave thoughts of them behind. But something about the new man you ran into made that almost impossible.

WARNINGS: Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel is a Fucking Idiot, Sweet Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Soft Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Hurt Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Francisco "Catfish" Morales Has PTSD, Fluff and Angst, Past Drug Addiction, Healing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 10

**Frankie**

Frankie headed straight to a meeting from your place. Jade met him there, worry across her face when she saw his puffy, red eyes. He had called her, asking her to meet him at a meeting, telling her he needed her to be there for him. He didn’t say anything to her, just sat there with her, listening to the others talk. After, he thanked her and left. She didn’t push, didn’t ask questions. She sat there with him, not touching, just being there with him. She nodded when he said thank you and left.

He called the guys on his way home, asking them to bring their ladies to his apartment. He needed to tell them what happened. Pope and Yovanna, who had just arrived home, went straight back out, worried for him. He talked to Will on the phone the whole time he was in his cab, not daring to be alone and unattended, worried that he might call someone else, buy, use, whatever.

When he got home, Will, Liv, Benny and Diana were waiting in his apartment. He hugged his brothers and sobbed like a child; his knees gave way. Liv and Diana stood there, hand over their mouths, crying alongside him, not knowing what happened or what to say to him. Frankie sobbed until Pope got there, ending up curled in a fetal position in Pope’s lap, his body heaving from his sobs, while everyone sat there in silence, just being there for him.

Once he calmed down, Pope took him into his bedroom and made him shower and change. Will ordered takeout for everyone, determined that no one left the place until Frankie talked to them. They ate their dinner in silence, Frankie barely eating at all. Liv managed to coax him into eating a few more bites, but he hardly finished half of his meal.

He finally told them what happened, stopping every now and again to let his tears calm down, continuing only when he’s ready. The guys felt bad for him, not knowing what to say to him. The girls told him not to worry. You said you needed time to think, you didn’t say no.

“Frankie, Liv and I knew all this when it was taking place, and even we had a hard time accepting it all at first. It’s not easy. Be patient, she’ll come around,” Diana said, Liv nodding, rubbing his back.

“I was there, Frankie, I was part of it, remember? I had a hard time too. She just learnt about this today, let her process, and then hear what she has to say,” Yovanna grasped Frankie’s hand tightly, trying hard to convince him that hope was not yet lost.

“What if she never calls? What if she’s just scared of me now? What if she hates me? I don’t… I shouldn’t have told her. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just kept quiet.” He was shaking his head, regret filling his chest.

“No, Fish, you should tell her. You did the right thing. Just hang on, you don’t know what she’ll decide. Have faith, brother,” Pope told him.

“You did good today, Fish, you went to a meeting, you called us, you didn’t use. You did good, you should be proud,” Will was hoping to get some positivity out of Frankie today. Anything to get him out of this cloud he was in.

“Whatever you do, Frankie, do not contact her. She asked for one thing, give it to her. Let her go through this her way. Don’t force her hands. Give her the time she asked for,” Liv reminded him. The last thing that would help his case was him calling you incessantly.

Frankie nodded slowly, willing himself to not give up, hoping to God that you wouldn’t either.

Pope, Will and Benny stayed with Frankie throughout the weekend, distracting him from getting in his head too much. He didn’t sleep at all that Friday, only got two hours of sleep Saturday before his nightmare woke him up, the first since that night he called you. The same thing happened Sunday, although he managed to go back to sleep for another hour before the next one plagued his sleep. They went to his meetings with him that weekend, staying outside until his meetings were over, Jade sitting next to him, just being there for him, despite him still not saying anything to her.

Come Monday, Frankie went to work as usual, willing himself not to go in the café’s direction, or God forbid, your office. He stayed at the office with the guys, going to lunch with them. Benny went with him to his meeting that day, talking to Diana on the phone outside while Frankie went inside, Jade next to him. He didn’t speak in the meeting, but chatted with Jade a little bit after, before saying good night. Again, she didn’t press, just being there for him, letting him control the narrative. Frankie slept in Benny’s guest room that night, managing a couple of hours of sleep before waking up, his nightmare now of you going back to Joel. But at least, he managed to go back to sleep for another couple of hours before waking again, his nightmare back to jungles and screams.

Will went with him on Tuesday. He sat in the hallway of the building, waiting for Frankie to come out. Just like the day before, Jade didn’t say anything to him until he spoke first, and he did, just thanking her for being there for him, keeping him centered. He slept in Will’s guest bedroom that night, Tom’s open eyes on that rock plaguing his sleep, waking up every couple of hours, sweating profusely.

By Wednesday, Frankie felt better, asking his buddies to let him go to his meeting alone. He shared his dreams with the group that day, not saying anything about you or what he had shared with you. That story was never for him to share with the group. It was too risky. He had coffee with Jade after, sitting outside the building, coffee cup in one hand, a cigarette in the other, both just enjoying their legal vices and filling the time with idle, non-personal chit chat before going their separate ways. Frankie didn’t sleep much that night, watching that show you were watching on the Netflix instead, laughing at what he imagined you would be laughing at, wondering what you were doing at that very moment.

On Thursday, he and Jade chatted about nothing as they, again, enjoyed the cheap NA coffee and a cigarette as they did the night before, seemingly back to normal, Jade happy that he was no longer non-verbal, and was less in danger of using again. Frankie spent that night looking at pictures of you in the chat group, willing himself not to hound the girls for information on you. You asked to be left alone, and he was going to respect that if it killed him.

When Friday came, Jade asked him to join her for a good cup of coffee near where the meeting was held. They were back to their old dynamics, before she meddled in his personal life, talking about their journey through recovery. They ended the night with a hug and went their separate ways. He went to Will’s for a movie night, and Liv told a funny story about something you said about that movie, and Frankie smiled so much knowing that you enjoyed the movie. He watched the movie, wondering if you were laughing at the same places he was, if you found this bit funny, and fell asleep for four full hours before waking up to a nightmare where you and Joel were back together, a baby in your arms. He went home after that, found the unwashed flannel you had worn weeks ago, and hugged it back to sleep.

He didn’t go to a meeting that Saturday. Jade didn’t bother him. Benny came by to make sure he was alright. He spent the day cleaning his apartment inside out, distracting himself, doing anything he could to stop himself from calling you. He missed you so much he couldn’t breathe. He had to leave his apartment just so he could do laundry, ignoring the one in his building. He needed to be out in the open, breathing in the crisp autumn air, and not be suffocated in his building. He spent the time waiting for his laundry to get done looking at your pictures again, rereading the chat thread you two had together. He did that again before he went to sleep, managing a few hours before waking up sweating, this time to an image of you on that rock on the Andes, your eyes glistening with tears, open and still, your body cold and stiff in his arms.

Sunday was the magic day. Day 365. Will, Liv, Benny, Diana, Pope, Yovanna and Anna all came to his meeting, waiting for him outside with much anticipation. When he came out with his year chip between his thumb and forefingers, they cheered for him, toasting him with cheap coffee, taking turns hugging him, all so happy for him. Anna told him his late Mama would be so happy if she were here. In his celebratory smile, Frankie couldn’t help but search the faces surrounding him for yours, but you were not there. His dream of holding you close and asking you out was gone. But everyone was so happy for him, he shook his head and focused on that instead.

Jade was standing behind him in the doorway, a happy smile on her face. She congratulated him, telling him she was so proud of him. He hugged her, thanking her for her role in this milestone of his, despite their disagreements. Liv told him the girls had arranged for a small party for him that evening at the pool hall, and he invited Jade to come along, to which she heartily accepted.

Frankie was happy. He was proud of himself for getting here. He only wished you were there by his side to celebrate with him. He’s convinced that his life would be perfect then.

**Emma**

As soon as the door closed behind him, you burst into tears. You had no idea how to deal with this information. You sobbed for hours, ending up in your bed, finally exhausted from crying your lungs out. You laid there for quite a while. There was too much information.

He and the guys committed a major crime. They killed a lot of people in order to get money that wasn’t theirs. The money they have now was drug money, blood money. Him killing the villagers led to his friend dying. And after all that, they went back to get the money their friend died for and are now living their life with it. The situation was so dire they had to lay low so they wouldn’t be found and killed, to the point that they had to fake their own deaths.

If you’re being honest with yourself, the thing that really bothered you was not what they did – it was in the past. They did it, got away with it, and lived a civilian life, trying hard to move on from their past. You had met them numerous times, you knew the ladies they were with, you knew them as the good guys. But what bothered you was the implication behind it. Was what you saw from them a front? Were they really just cold blooded killers who would do anything for money? And what if that drug lord’s men were not all gone? What if someone figured it all out? Would they be in danger? Would you be in danger? And the horror of all horrors, would your mother?

And even if they were indeed safe as they thought, what if the money ran out? Who’s to say they won’t pull another mission like this in the future?

Your head was too full. You couldn’t sleep a wink that night.

You spent the weekend holed up in your room. For some reason, your mother left you alone. Didn’t bother you, didn’t ask you what’s wrong, didn’t make a peep, except to send food and water to you three times a day. As much as you wanted to unload to her, you remembered what Frankie asked of you, and you didn’t want to dishonor your promise to him.

The ladies texted you. Told you Frankie told them everything. They asked that you take your time, digest everything, and call them if and when you were ready to talk. In the meantime, Liv asked you to stay home. Think. Decide.

By Monday afternoon, you couldn’t take the silence anymore. So you asked Liv If you could just work from home. She happily agreed, setting up meetings for you online. You worked more during those four days than you worked for a month, not willing to keep your thoughts quiet at all, cause the moment you did, thoughts of what Frankie had revealed to you came bubbling to the surface and you were back to a sobbing mess.

You were so conflicted. On the one hand, Frankie was everything you dreamed a man could be. Everything you wished Joel would be. But even in your immense hatred and anger for Joel, you couldn’t imagine Joel ever doing anything remotely close to what Frankie had done.

And you missed him. Oh, how you missed him. You missed his smile, his voice, his laugh, his touch, you miss everything about him. You spent time scrolling though your texts with him, wishing you had a picture of him to look at. Your body ached from not having him around, that hug he gave you at the café, the way his arm wrapped around you on the train, he made you feel… safe.

How could someone who can make your noisy thoughts quiet down, someone who made any moment spent with him so still, so unchaotic, so centered, be capable of everything he had told you he did? You felt as if you were thrown off your axis. You knew, obviously, that he had killed, he was in the army, much as you hate war and everything it came with, you could understand that he didn’t have a choice. He was doing his job.

But this, this was intentional. They chose to do this. They benefited from it. They were living off it.

It made you feel as if you didn’t know him at all.

By Thursday, your mother couldn’t take it anymore. She sat down with you on your bed, telling you Anna had come over, and talked to her. She found out from Pope and Yovanna that you had a… falling out of sorts with Frankie. Anna didn’t know the full story, but she had a hunch that Frankie told you something about his past with the guys. Anna told her that no one told her anything, but she had known these boys for a long time, and she could put two and two together. Something really bad happened. Something so bad the boys didn’t want her to know. Something so bad Pope uprooted her from the small town they used to live in. Something so bad that resulted in the death of their Captain. And your mother, ever the wise one, knew it was why you were so quiet, so out of character these few days.

“Sweetie, whatever it was, and I’m not going to pry, you need to decide if it was so bad that you couldn’t get past it at all, or if it’s something you could live with. Whichever it is, decide. Don’t leave the poor man hanging. He doesn’t deserve that, not when he likes you enough, trusted you enough to tell you everything in the first place. He didn’t want to lie to you, sweetie, even at the risk of losing you. I can’t even imagine how hard it is for you, but you need to decide. Accept him for who he is and was, flaws and all, or set him free.”

You didn’t answer. She held you until you fell asleep.

Frankie was lying on a rock, his eyes opened, a bullet hole in his head. You were begging him to wake up, telling him you loved him, please, Frankie baby, wake up. Please. Let’s go home, okay? We’ll go home and be together forever. Please baby, wake up, breathe, please.

You jolted awake, tears pouring down your face, your shirt wet from your sweat. You were sobbing. That was uncomfortably real. The thought of not having him around anymore shattered you. You glanced at your phone – it was 7am on a Friday. You texted Liv, telling her you were ready to talk.

The nightmare made you realize something. You didn’t want to lose Frankie. Ever. Not ever. You didn’t care how. You wanted him here with you. But you needed to hear it from the ladies who had lived through it. You needed to know how they came to accept this.

That night, the ladies came to your house. Your mother quickly made herself scarce, going to Anna’s for a chat. The three of them hugged you, asking you if you were feeling better. They promised to answer all your questions. Nothing was off limits, if you could promise you could keep an open mind. You agreed. The ladies didn’t speak right away, though. They were waiting for someone. Someone they were convinced could help you understand the situation more. After waiting for about an hour, finally, there was a knock on the door. Diana answered it for you, hugging the woman who came in.

The woman hugged Liv next, before shaking hands with you and Yovanna. Her name was Molly. She was Tom’s widow.

After a brief chat, you asked them what they could tell you.

Yovanna spoke first, telling you that she was Santiago’s informant. She drove Lorea’s money for him. Like all the other drivers, or anyone who worked for him, she was disposable. She was convinced that if the guys hadn’t done what they did, she would have been killed within a week. Her brother worked for Lorea too. It wasn’t by choice, she told you. Lorea had power over everyone. If you didn’t work for him, you and your family would be dead. If you worked for him, you and your family would be dead anyway. The people were terrified, but no one could do anything. What they did saved so many people. People could live freely again. She and her brother went into hiding after that, but from what they heard, the law enforcement got much better after Lorea. The newer generation were not so easily bought, things were looking up.

Liv told you how bad things were with Will and Benny before. Benny was walking around with a swollen everything for years. Being beaten and beating others the only way he could keep his mind away from his army days. Will was basically a ticking bomb. Any little thing could set him off. They were no longer like that these days. They got themselves straight. They got help. The cash helped. One less thing to worry about. They invested. Liv got quiet for a bit, before telling you that they gave her and Diana the money to start the company you were working for. The four of them started their own company after that. They want to get straight. Settle down. Live a normal life.

You looked at Molly. Frankie said he got Tom killed. Molly, Liv and Diana shook their heads. Molly took your hand in hers.

“No, Emma. He didn’t. I know my late husband. He changed a lot after the retirement. He was not the man I married. When he left for the mission, he was hot-headed. Impulsive. We were having issues. Money issues. In fact, I left him. He was letting his worries affect him. He became distant, bad tempered, impatient, untrusting. He kept accusing me of cheating on him. When he left, he told me that he was going to come home a changed man, that he will make it right. And… the guys, they won’t ever say anything bad about their brothers, but when they told me things went sideways, and the money that came with it all, I just knew. I knew Tom was the reason things went sideways. He was a planner. He would never have let things go badly, he was like a robot, on time, precise. I guess something was distracting him. Something he deemed so important could change our lives. Like millions of dollars.”

“Frankie didn’t want to fly the helicopter with so much money on it Emma, I was there – he told Tom it was too heavy. But Tom insisted that they take all of it anyway. If Tom had listened to Frankie they wouldn’t have crashed, and none of it would have happened. These guys trusted him. They would follow him anywhere. Frankie was obeying his Captain’s orders. He didn’t get Tom killed. Tom got himself killed,” Yovanna told you.

“Emma, the men you know today, they are not the men they were back then. They got their lives together. They are working on bettering themselves, and they want to stay that way. Please, give Frankie a chance. He’s heartbroken, he misses you,” Diana pleaded with you.

“You don’t have to jump into anything with him, Emma. Just be there for him. He needs you. He’s miserable without you. Trust us, Emma, he’s a good guy. These men, they have each other. They look out for one another. They are good guys, Emma. With a past, I admit. But everyone has them. Theirs are just a bit more… colorful than most. Look,” Liv shuffled closer to you, “This Sunday, he’ll be one year clean. We’re all going to the meeting to celebrate him getting his year chip, and then we’re going to have a small get together for him at the pool hall. Please come. It’ll mean so much to him.”

You told them you would think about it. But you couldn’t deny, talking to them, listening to their side of the story, it made things better. But you still needed time to process. To be sure.

And that night, you fell asleep to thoughts of him, wishing he was with you, holding you close.

**********

That Sunday evening, everyone showed up at the pool hall, ready to celebrate Frankie’s year of sobriety. Despite his happiness that everyone was celebrating him, he couldn’t help but feel down. Liv had told him she had invited you. But you were nowhere to be seen.

He missed you so much he wanted to scream. Break something, cry, yell, anything to distract himself from this hollowness he felt in his chest.

Jade called his name, asking him to go against her at pool. He was reluctant, still wallowing on the fact that you were not there.

And then, he saw you, walking in with your mother in tow.

He immediately went to you, hugging your mother, who congratulated him on his perseverance. He thanked her, and she made a beeline to Anna, who looked far too happy that her new best friend had arrived. You stayed where you were, standing right in front of him. He looked tired. You knew immediately that he hadn’t been sleeping well again. Your heart clenched at the thought. But you were happy to see him, to stand so close to him.

Frankie drank the sight of you in. You looked more beautiful than he remembered. His heart filled to the brim just from the sight of you, already much calmer than it had been this past week. He wanted to hug you, hold you close, smell your hair, but he refrained himself. Just because you were here, didn’t mean you would say yes to him. At this point, he’ll take whatever he could get, as long as he had you in his life. Even if he could only watch you from afar.

“You came,” he whispered, somehow audible in the loud area.

“I did.”

He was so happy you answered.

“Why?”

“Someone promised me he would ask me out on date. I came to collect,” you smiled at him.

Frankie’s heart almost leapt out of his mouth. He took a step closer to you, tentatively taking your hands in his, testing the waters to see if he heard you right. You didn’t pull away.

“You’ll take me? Even after everything I told you?”

“If you’ll have me, even after everything I told you.”

His smile was so wide you had no choice but to mirror it. His hands moved from yours to your waist, pulling you in, eager to hold you close.

“In that case, Emma, would you go out on a…”

“Frankie, a word? Outside? It’s important,” Jade appeared out of nowhere. She gave you an obviously refrained smile.

Frankie gave your temple a kiss, whispering that he will be right back. Please don’t leave. You nodded, smiling back at him, deciding to ignore Jade and her annoyance that you were there.

You went to the bar to join the gang, the guys giving you an enthusiastic hug, the girls squealing that you had decided to join them. Will gave you a look, silently asking if everything was alright with you and Frankie, and you nodded. He looked happy, and Pope gave you a side hug, thanking you for giving his brother a chance.

Someone appeared with a cake, ‘Happy 1 Year Frankie’ written on it. Benny got a lighter and asked you where Frankie was. Let’s celebrate this! Emma, go get Fish! I want cake!

You told them he went outside; you’ll go get him. You ran outside, looking left and right for him.

There he was, standing against the wall of the pool hall, Jade’s body pressed up to him, her lips on his, locked in an intense kiss.

Part 12

[therosebunpost]

A very Berry reunion!

A S.B.B verse Drabble!

You meet Steve again, but this time you’re hanging off the arm of a certain infamous metalhead.

CW: None for this chapter, but please be aware that this is a 18+ story!

———

Steve doesn’t see you again until weeks later, after Starcourt goes up in flames. After him and Robin become best friends for life and Steve starts having issues with his hearing and sight. What was an occasional occurrence was happening more frequently, and Steve started to wear glasses for the first time ever. He hated them, but he hated not being able to see even more.

The job at Troy’s Thrift came about as more of a need than any actual interest. After Starcourt, Robin and him were left jobless and traumatized. Trying to appeal to Keith’s better nature hadn’t worked, even when Robin tried to use Steve’s looks to their advantage.

So there Steve was, wearing a bright yellow polo and brown slacks, ringing up Hawkin’s discarded and abandoned items. No plans for the future, saddled with migraines and rapidly declining senses. He kind of felt accepted amongst the ratty old stuffed animals and dilapidated furniture.

He hears you before he sees you. You’re wearing a mostly pink and red ensemble, with…a domino and poker chip belt? However what takes him aback is the man standing beside you. All ripped denim and chains, Eddie Munson leaned over to press a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. Your hands are linked, and you’re currently smiling over something he's said.

Well, that’s just great.

“Harrington? Well fuck, as I live and breathe.”

“Did you guys find everything you were looking for?” Steve asks, cutting through any questions the older boy had. He sits up a little in his chair, reaching across the counter to pick items up. He’s already had a few people from school sneer at him, and he wasn’t keen on hearing the same from Eddie The Freak Munson.

“Yeah, we did. Got quite a haul going this time, huh, Bun-Bun?”

Steve was looking at the ticket on the Berry tea pot, but he could see the way you nodded enthusiastically from out of the corner of his eye. He picks up the next thing, and does a double take. An…owl radio? He vaguely recalls seeing something similar in a movie, but it’s lost on him what it was.

“Great, cash or card?” He asks, leaning back in his chair and looking at you both. He realizes that the poker chips have pink designs around the rim. Cute. He looks up at you, but you quickly look at Eddie who pulls out a wad of cash with a tiny grin. “Cash, Sunshine.”

The nickname makes him double take, blinking behind the counter. “…Okay, here’s your change. Do you want a bag or a box?” He juts his thumb over at the bin of boxes, which Eddie gleefully wanders over to, leaving him alone with you once more.

You offer another smile, fishing out your notepad and scribbling in it. It’s a strawberry theme on the cover this time, instead of flowers. Your rings were also pink, and shiny with fake metal. He wonders if you raided the local gumball machine for more accessories.

‘Thank you, Steve. How are you? I haven’t seen you since Starcourt.’

“…Fine, yeah I’m fine. Robin and I managed, if you can call working here managing.” He chuckles, looking around at the tiny store. For once he’s really glad that you have a notepad with you, even if the words occasionally make his head swim. It was a little easier to read than hear sometimes.

‘I really like this place. I imagine you find a lot of cool things in here, it must be hard not to take them home.’

Steve suppressed a snort at that. What would he do with a bunch of old junk? Still, he nods. “Yeah. It looks like you did find some cool stuff. What are the flowers for?” He nods towards the heavy, iron flowers in a bag.

‘I’m going to use them as new knobs for my drawers! Eddie and I are going to paint them together outside today since it’s still warm out!’ You quickly flip to another page, where a doodle of a dresser could be seen. It was covered with flowers and funky colors made using highlighters. It was too bright for his taste, but it fit you just fine.

Steve chuckled, amused. “It’s pretty.”

“Babe, this one work?”

The two of you look over at Eddie who came shuffling over with a box with Grapefruit slices painted on the side. “I was thinking we could use the box too!” He starts gathering your things, and there it was. That awkwardness that came with watching customers pack up in silence.

Steve looked over at his calculator, fussing with the buttons. It’s only when Eddie clears his voice that he looks over and sees you giving Eddie a look.

“It uh…it is nice to see you, man. That…that Starcourt shit was terrifying. Glad you made it out in one piece.” Eddie smiles slightly, and Steve is disarmed. He hesitates before nodding slowly. “…You too, Munson. You uh…worked at the record store, right?” He offers and it’s Eddie’s turn to be taken aback. “Yeah! Yeah, was a great gig. M’workin’ down at the mechanics now though.” He shrugs, tapping the counter.

Steve noticed some plastic rings mixed with the genuine metal. Red, plastic jewels twinkled up at him. Did you insist to match, or did Eddie? He couldn’t help the slight smile playing on his lips at either idea.

Taglist: (DM to join) @ali-r3n

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[evieismol]

Big Bend Chapter Twenty Seven - Aquarium

Word count: ~1300 words

Cw: mentions of giant killing someone in the past, past trauma, cursing

Angie’s POV

I felt like my mind was reeling from Dave’s revelation. I didn’t want to harp on what was clearly a very traumatic event, instead deciding to let him lead. So when he changed the subject, saying we should get going to the aquarium, I didn’t argue. Despite that, though, his account remained in my mind even as we entered the aquarium’s doors, as we bought our tickets, and as we started looking around. I had countless questions I wanted the answer to. Most of which I knew he didn’t even have the answer to, like who that man that was killed was, or who the giant who had killed him was. How the giant had gotten to earth, and where he’d gone after the incident.

All questions he likely wanted to know even more than I did, I thought.

I tried to refocus on the exhibits around us, a plan that was so far miserably failing. Jellyfish were plenty intriguing, but they hardly held a candle to the sheer shock factor of what my coworker had just shared with me.

Dave picked up on my distractedness fairly quickly. “Kind of killed the vibe with that trauma dump, huh?” He said, giving a half hearted laugh. I shook my head quickly.

“No-I mean, yes, but like, I’m glad you shared. I just can’t imagine what that must have been like to see as a kid, I guess.”

Dave gave a small shrug. “Yeah. It still feels surreal to me, honestly.”

“And I’m really surprised you’re working with Easton and us after…that,” I said, the words slipping from my mouth before I could second guess them. Out of the many, many questions I had, that was one of the ones that confused me the most. Sure, Dave’s continued unease around our giant coworker made more sense now, but why he’d take and then keep the job now made even less sense. I’d think the last thing he want to do was work with a giant in the middle of nowhere after seeing a giant kill someone in the middle of nowhere as a child.

“Me too,” Dave admitted. He met my gaze, giving a resigned sigh. “I don’t really know what I was thinking. Or what I am thinking.” He paused. “Have you ever been so afraid of something that it almost becomes some sort of fascinating?”

I considered his question. “Well, I guess I like watching horror movies and true crime for kind of a similar reason?”

“Yeah. So there’s the whole scary but fascinating part, and then I guess I was hoping maybe working woth Easton would help me get over it, but really I think it just made everything more confusing, because he’s so…human? Like, the giant that killed that guy has always just been some shadowy monster in my brain, but Easton’s…nice. Funny. Anxious. Kind of awkward…all these traits that don’t fit with some caricature of a boogey man. God, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

“No, no, I think I get it?” I offered.

“And then I end up feeling bad that I am still so freaked out by him, because sometimes he really just seems like another…person? And then I remember he’s not even from our world, and he’s bigger than some of our buildings, and he could kill me just as easily as that other giant killed that man-and then I just get stuck in this weird limbo of feeling guilty because I don’t really think he’d do something that like, and feeling scared because he could, and not wanting to quit because I don’t want what happened back then to define my while life, but very much wanting to quit because what am I thinking…and, fuck, I’m really rambling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, offering Dave a hopefulym reassuring smile. “I don’t know how I’d even begin to process all of that, but I’m more than happy to listen if that’ll help.”

“Thanks,” Dave said. “I really am sorry for ruining the vibe, though. I mean, there’s some really cool fish here.”

“And we have plenty of time to see them still,” I said. “Really, you don’t need to apologize. I was just trying to process, I guess.”

“You and me both,” Dave said with a dry laugh.

I leaned over to give Dave a half hug after a moment.

“Thanks for trusting me with that,” I said.

We turned to look at the jellyfish in front of us, this silence washing over us this time comfortable instead of awkward. I wasn’t exactly sure how long we stood there, the blue creatures in front of us drifting lazily through the water, tentacles swirling behind them. It wasn’t either of us who eventually broke the silence, but instead a new voice.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they,” the unfamiliar voice mused from behind us. Dave and I both turned at the same time to see who had spoken. The newcomer was a man perhaps a bit older than us - late twenties or early thirties, if I had to guess. I hadn’t seen him enter the dimly lit room that housed the jellyfish exhibit, but then again, I hadn’t been paying much attention to my surroundings during our prior conversation.

“They’re real mesmerizing,” Dave agreed. “It’s kind of amazing that they don’t have a brain…ocean life is weird.”

“All life is weird if you think too hard about it,” the stranger said. “It requires such delicate balance.” He paused. “Have you seen the alligator exhibit upstairs yet?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. We just got here.”

“It’s worth checking out, if only to appreciate how long crocodilians have called this planet home.”

“Oh, that’s right - they’ve existed since like the dinosaurs, haven’t they?”

The stranger nodded. “One of the two remaining archosaurs.”

“You seem like you know a lot about animals,” Dave said.

The stranger shrugged. “I enjoy learning. I’m Lee, by the way.”

Dave extended his hand. “Dave. This is Angie.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Are you two from the area?” Lee asked, shaking Dave’s hand. I was already shaking my head before he’d finished the question.

“Not really. Just here on a weekend trip,” I said. “You?”

“Something similar,” Lee replied. “I was in the area for business.”

“We’re in the area to get away from business,” Dave joked.

“I think we all need to do that every now and then. You two work together, then?”

“Yeah. We’re both park rangers, we had the weekend off and thought we’d come over here,” I replied.

“Park rangers! That sounds like a fun job - I used to work at a park myself. Just as a tour guide, though. Which park are you at?”

“Big Bend,” Dave replied.

“Ah, I think I’ve seen that one in the news a lot recently. Something about hiring a giant?”

“Yeah. An aphirial. His name’s Easton Parks.”

“A fitting name for his job,” Lee said with a laugh. “Park ranger Parks.”

I was a little surprised that was what he’d focused on, given the other bit of information I’d offered. Easton’s name being ironically fitting had occurred to me as well, though, and I gave a small laugh.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What did you say you did for work?” Dave asked.

“I didn’t, but I’m a freelancer of sorts these days,” Lee replied. “It gives me plenty of time to travel.”

“That must be nice,” I said. “We both stay pretty busy. Still, we’re lucky to have gotten this weekend at least.”

“Beautiful weekend here too, not too hot. It does get pretty hot over by Big Bend, though, doesn’t it?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Dave said. “Puts Arizona to shame somedays, I swear.”

“I’ve heard the flash floods over there do too,” Lee said. He paused, as if remembering something. “Well, I should get going - I won’t interrupt your weekend any further. I hope you enjoy the rest of the aquarium!”

He didn’t wait for us to respond before leaving the room.

“Huh,” Dave said after a moment. “That was kinda weird.”

[salubriwrites-blog]

A Weird Dive into my favorite ships

This started as an answer to an anonymous question but... it grew a little bit. I have no forward except to please drink water today! Love you!!!!

I'm actually pretty new still to writing fanfiction. I've been an avid writer since I was 10 and was even working on getting my own book published. From there I springboarded into TTRPG design where I wrote world building, lore, and characters for IPs like Call of Cthulhu and Vampire: The Masquerade. I only really just got into writing *fan fiction* in the last 2 years.

My first fanfic/ship was actually pretty silly. I was on the Encanto hype train when that movie first came out (can you believe its been 3 years???) and I loved, loved, loved Bruno Madrigal. He was the traumatized, distraught uncle living in the walls of Casita trying to fix the internal damage that came from Abuela's treatment of La Familia. His intentions were pure, and he obviously had gone through a lot to drive him to the point where we see him in the story. This was the first branch I would hit falling down the "I can fix them" tree.

The story is cute and has a happy ending, but as we all know in the real world, unlearning toxic behavior and overcoming life long trauma takes time. So I wrote a BrunoxOC story about it. I ended up orphaning it because I veered the story off in a direction I didn't like because the group I was part of were heavily influencing my creative choices. Boo, hiss I know, but I was still pretty new within the fanfiction genre so I buckled.

Moving on!

My second fiction that I put a lot more love into - sorta I may go back and rewrite parts of it now - was my YorickxOC fiction.

Yorick was my first ever League of Legends love. Fucking love that haunted beef cake. The Ruined Event did him dirty, the Ruined King Game did him dirty, and the book probably did him dirty too (I haven't read it). My Gravekeeper needs ALL THE LOVE because he is absolutely going through it in sheer solitude (though the Illaoi story where he goes to help destroy Viego's amulet gave me hope that now he gets visitors sometime on the island).

Remember Yorick Mori: Before the Ruination This was my first completed and quite hefty fiction weighing in at 153k words: it followed his story where he starts out on a lonely little fishing island called Portia (it doesn't have a name in Lore). He ends up on a slightly busier island that is situated off the coast of Helia (Blessed Isles capitol) and begins his journey to understand why he can communicate with the Dead. He meets a cast of charming monks that want to both see him thrive and maintain status quo. He even meets the owner of the bakery that barters with the Order of Dusk - whom he naturally falls in love with immediately. Rosalie McKahn is not a self insert. I don't make self inserts when I write OCs because I hold myself to a weird standard - also I don't see myself being compatible with most of these characters. Would I still like them to do unspeakable things to me? Oh shit yes. But from a story standpoint, I don't do self inserts. So Rosalie was not one of those. The story follows a young Yorick through his years of servitude to the Order of Dusk, uncovering dark secrets, finding confidence to become the man that he will need to be when the Ruination comes. Rosalie was not the only person who helped to build Yorick up in this story, but their love is what gives him the strength to keep fighting when the rest of it was bleak. This love eventually passes on to the Maiden of the Mist in the epilogue I have yet to write ^^;.

Then we got into the Heartsteel arc, and this was where I really found my love for the "I can fix them" dynamics. I have no shame in saying that I wrote all of "Making of Paranoia: Off Script" in a week's time while the music video played on a loop on my second monitor. I'm just not. That was where the neurons wanted me to go, and off I fucking went. I knew I liked Aphelios when he first debuted in League, but I was scared of him because he's an ADC with 5 guns. Skill Expression was not something I was confident enough in to pursue that character. But he was hot! He ha a backstory that excited me and had a lot of potential. I really wanted to explore Aphelios' dynamic with his sister and the Lunari elders - pigeon holing him into being a weapon of faith only.

I also knew I liked Yone, but was fearful of him for similar reasons. In the end I just nutted up, typed /mute all in game chat, and hit my head against the wall until I got M7 on Yone. His story is by far my favorite of all the League characters (rivaling Yorick's, of course). A man who spent his whole, short life trying to save someone who he thought was in danger of falling off the path of virtue? Only to come back and KEEP DOING IT but with extra steps??? WAITER ANOTHER PLEASE.

But I didn't really anticipate putting these two characters together within the canon sense. I didn't see a way that they could meet (though one of my friends has since written a beautiful fiction where it shows how they do meet, and how they do connect! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52384363/chapters/132517315 )

BUT THEN. BUT THEEEEN.

I was watching Paranoia for the 69th time that day and I saw THIS VERY SPECIFIC CLIP where the only person who looked the most remote bit of concern for Aphelios' well being was YONE. Boom, Off Script was born.

Off Script was definitely the first FanFiction where I really jumped into my current dynamic. It follows after the filming of that day, cut short after Aphelios fell into a water tank with one of the drones. Yone is going to check on him, and Aphelios is lamenting that no one else has come to see if he's alright. Not even his boyfriend, Sett.

This infuriates Yone because that's just not good boyfriend behavior, and he promises Aphelios that - should he be given the chance - Yone would treat him 10x better than Sett has, is, or ever will.

Also who wouldn't want to be treated like a princess by this specimen? Let's not fool ourselves. Anyway - Paranoia gave me a chance to explore this dynamic in a new way. Yone had issues of his own - I had to find a way to implement his Arzakana nature into a modern AU so I opted for "intrusive thoughts" that encouraged him to do some generally not nice things. In Yone's backstory he was a toxic person, used people up, whored his way through most of his opportunities, and was a bad brother to Yasuo. Yone initially followed Yasuo into the music making industry because he wanted to help his baby brother succeed - and he didn't really know what he wanted to do with his own life. Yone then got it into his head that maybe he and his brother could make music TOGETHER. Yasuo didn't want that because True Damage was doing it's own thing and - for just once in his life - he wanted something that only he had made, not with his older brother. Yone takes his poorly, and being the toxic brother that he is, makes a scene at an industry party and gets booted out. Yasuo cuts him out of his life. On his drunken, staggering tirade through the streets of Valoran City, Yone gets into an accident. He dies. But then suddenly gets resuscitated! I'm not a doctor so I just literally chalk it up to a freak accident that Yone comes back. While Yone believes that it's a second chance. He wakes up in the coroner's office in a cooler, and bangs and screams at the door the whole night until the coroner ME comes in the next morning to fetch the John Doe. Yone doesn't know who he is anymore, but he knows he can't be the asshole now cause that's what got him killed. So he spends time reflecting, soul searching. He knows he still loves making music, and though he gets a desk job and lives this semi-stable life, he still dreams of making music.

Enter Heartsteel.

Aphelios' twin sister is already a multi-platinum artist who runs her own record label - Lunari Studios. Aphelios is on the other side of the story - he's just kind of following Alune around and standing back as she shines. He knows he's talented - he knows a million instruments and helps Alune with her production, but he doesn't think that he could do it all by himself. When he and Sett start dating, it's more of the same. Sett is big and loud, people are drawn to him and his style, and it gives Aphelios someone to latch onto that isn't his sister for once. In Off Script, Aphelios' fate would have been the silent lyricist and musician for the band. He would have told himself that he was happy with standing back.

Except after the events of the music video, Yone won't let him. Yone encourages him to sing, to write bolder lyrics, to voice his opinion. Yone helps Aphelios find confidence, and in return Aphelios lets Yone help him. All Yone really ever wants in any AU is to help, but helpful people can be toxic too. Aphelios allows Yone to do that, but with his own confidence can help draw boundaries on when Yone is being too supportive, or investing too much of his own energy. In the Heartsteel AU I wrote, they are happy together ^^

I finished Off Script around the time of Worlds 2023. Which was when they announced my Babygirl!

And boy what a journey THIS CHARACTER HAS BEEN.

Hwei has it all. The trauma, the growth, the setbacks, the hips, the style, the potential. Surprisingly though - I am not a huge fan of the JhinHwei ship. Maybe cause I see too much of myself and who I used to be in its dynamic. I've been both of those characters in my past relationships, but this isn't the place for that kind of deep dive.

Hwei is neat because he introduced a new idea to my ship dynamic. He's not broken, just lost. He's looking for himself and every person he meets is just a stepping stone on his journey to peace of mind.

I wouldn't call Hwei self assured, because he doesn't know who he wants or what he wants to be, but he knows he has all the tools to reach that end. I like shipping him with multiple characters with Hwei in different stages of his self-realization because he is an inspiring character. He can terrify and and awe in the same breath, depending on which version of him we're visiting.

For this last one we're departing League completely.

I got into HSR after Genshin got a little stale for me. Also I got a fancy new phone that I could actually play Hoyo games on, and HSR is the best for mobile play.

I got into HSR in the middle of the Penacony story, but my friends warned me that I'd love Aventurine when I met him. I spoiled myself by looking at pictures of him and OOH BABY

You can fit so much trauma in this baby.

Aventurine is another fun one because yes - he has a tragic fucking story and I would single handedly help him repopulate Sigonia if given the opportunity. But once again, Teeeechnically not broken.?? He has ghosts he faces throughout the story, and must address each aspect of himself before crossing the river, but by the time he's come out, I like to think he's at peace with who he had to become in order to survive. From fighting in pits, murdering his former owner, tricking the IPC, I don't think Kakavasha would have done any of that stuff. Aventurine, on the other hand-

It's a common theme when you are in survival mode because of trauma. Is he fully cured? Fuck no, but will he continue to strive to be the kind of person he wished would have saved him when he was a kid? Fuck yes.

Which is why we need to impregnate him.

My friends warned me I'd love Blade. I was determined to not, but then I went through the Jingliu story and learned about the High Cloud Quintet and it was over.

I just think this guy's hot. I know a lot of people ship him with Dan Feng and Jing Yuan (it's pretty hot, ngl), but I kinda like Blade/Kafka or Blade/Stelle. The Kafka angle is not so much romantic as it is a mutual understanding that they are both going down this journey together and it can get lonely sometime. So more convenience than romance.

I'm working on a Blade/Stelle story right now where - Best I Am, Prey You Become. It explores Stelle abandoning the trailblaze to join the Stellaron Hunters, and as part of her initiation Blade if voluntold by Kafka to train her. Their relationship is mentor/student and she is obviously hot for him, but Blade is an immortal, tired old man who doesn't have time for that. Except Elio has other plans, as Blade's script reaches a conclusion - he finds something worth dying for. When it comes to HSR Fanfictions I take a lot more creative liberty because I didn't follow the lore to the letter. Also I love world building so!!!! I also built Sigonia-IV for that story, I just gotta get the neurons to activate x.x

[contentstarved]

I’ve been a fan of your blog for a while, and when I came back I revisited trigun after a friend had recommended it to me. Honestly I hyperfixated on Vash so fast, I love me some silly guys (who are also sad and need to be comforted because damn)

I saw you mentioned you liked Vashwood in one of your posts, do you have any spare hcs you could share?

HI GUESS WHO LET THIS SIT IN THE INBOX FOR A MONTH AND NEVER ACTUALLY TOUCHED IT FOR SOME REASON. first of all, hi, i fucking understand, i love v.ash so much good lord. my traumatized blonde man who needs so much more help than he allows himself. or that anyone else really gives, but, you know. i'll be pulling a little bit from some of my writing and roleplaying for this so it might be a little softer than canon!

Btw I wasn't sure what kinds of hcs you want, given I'm. A kink blog. But I tried to add in some non kink ones.

W.olfwood generally does not Get why V.ash treats himself like shit, at least not for a while; he has his guesses, but it takes him awhile until V.ash straightup tells him one night that he feels like he has to be useful and helpful to deserve anything, and that's when W.olfwood is really like. Ah shit. I will make sure not to take no for an answer from this point on and make sure he knows he deserves to be allowed to take care of himself even when he's not useful or even if he thinks he fucked something up. Probably even especially then.

Unfortunately V.ash will still skirt the line and undereat, but after a certain point you have to go "something's better than nothing and maybe he'll break and actually fucking eat." Especially with him.

And W.olfwood picks up pretty quick on the kinds of things V.ash likes but is nervous about asking for because... truthfully... the man isn't subtle. Sure, he would eat just about anything, but W.olfwood notices really fast that he's especially excited about salmon, sweets, and fruit, which he never asks for because fruit and fish are pretty damn expensive, but. Look. Sometimes a guy wants to spoil his boyfriend with a massive guilt complex, okay?

In rougher times with less money - or if V.ash is just being especially stubborn - he'll give some of his ration bars. They're not by any means good, but they at least give some respite from the constant hunger V.ash deals with for a little while.

As for some non kink ones:

They are both idiots. Together. V.ash is generally the goofier of the two because he strongly believes in faking it until you make it, but he also has so many stupid things to say and he may very well just die if he doesn't get to say them. It's contagious. I think they're both loosening the other up in different ways here.

W.olfwood also learns very quick that genuine kindness is not something V.ash is used to, and a little scared/intimidated by, and it lets W.olfwood go back a little to being a caretaker. He thought it was something he lost, but the neurotic plant makes him care, damn it, and he's slowly slipping back into being more gentle and loving, at least for V.ash. Other folks might still be on their own. Especially when he sees the thanks V.ash gets for his trouble.

Similarly, V.ash is gentle and close with W.olfwood; even if at first it's just W.olfwood doing his job, they still enjoy each other's company and V.ash... well. He tries to do a lot for him. He wants to help and listen and convince W.olfwood he's not a monster. They're both trying to convince each other of that.

W.olfwood also comes to think of V.ash as beautiful because of his plant features; the feathers, the markings, the sort of strange mannerisms are all a plus for him. If it gets strangely religious at times it's not his fault. It's on both sides anyway.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog 13: Episode 8, Pandala's Chichala

A very interesting episode for Joris's characterization, and the question of how much we can even trust Kerubim's stories.

On one hand this thing really is impressive, on but on the other... Simone will be so mad when the giant sexy card sculpture falls apart, and she has to clean this up.

(Guy who reads into this show as if it were the bible voice) Do you think Joris is frustrated that he, as a 7yo boy has to do so much around the home? Do you think he has to answer the door a lot? Did Joris ever try to clean the dishes himself before Simone came around and fixed their home for them, — and if so, did Luis or Kerubim reprimand him for trying to make things better? Or did they not care? No wonder that in the movie, he says that Kerubim is a wreck and that their home is a prison, and that he h— [I am forcefully dragged away from the microphone and sedated]

Yay use your son for word-combat with potential customers.

She deserves better pay, between all the dishes and the cards.

Also, for our obligatory "pointing out food" moment: They are eating fish. That's all.

Kerubim shit parent moment 999: Keeping all the evil potions, poisons, and alcohol on the lowest possible shelf, as god intended 🥰💕

12-14yo Joris, after Kerubim has died and turned into a kitten (hes meowing sadly, unable to stop Joris): I hauve to become an alcoholic. I can't do this shit anymore. Where can I—— THE LOWEST SHELF.

Really, this household is a nightmare, as I've pointed out in the previous episodes.

Joris has definitely, before the show, almost died multiple times (just like he will, yet again, almost die in the future episodes,) due to the random dangerous, poisonous, venomous, sharp and cursed shit Keke leaves lying around in places Joris can reach.

Keke simply saying "no" isn't going to like, fix how bad things are, to me. This is the bare minimum of parenting.

It must hurt, to be treated like a kid all of a sudden — when Kerubim's main parenting tactic in day to day life is "we are Equals, and you are my most important person in the world, and I will tell you aaaall my secrets and gruesome stories (totally not censored because I don't want to traumatize you)."

Probably feels like rejection, or like being gatekept from something that would usually be okay to do (trying something that Papycha was just hyping up a second ago.)

As I've said, his parenting tactic is just... "I trust you sooo much. We are Equals."

Which is good in some ways, but inevitably leads to some heartbreak along the way.

Considering the fact that Kerubim later says that he was looking for ecaflip city to become rich and propose to Lou... Man he can't stop thinking with his cock even on his romantic quest for marriage. 💀

(This is an edit from future me: it is also just as likely that he has been searching for Ecaflip city for most of his life, — and that he started looking for it again, and more actively after deciding to marry Lou. This is the more charitable interpretation.)

One of the not-so-many times in the series that Kerubim is around someone who can call out whenever he's lying.

As I've said, unless there is sufficient reason, one should take the events Kerubim presents as what happened, but, by god do we have a big gran of salt that we need to take into account.

Kerubim's main reasons for lying in this show are, of course: 1. Being embarrassed 2. Censoring things that make him upset. 3. Censoring things that would make Joris uncomfortable, or that are age-inappropriate. All are very understandable, but still make him a very unreliable narrator.

One of the more fascinating micro-character arcs that are present in this show, is Joris's questioning of Kerubim's stories, and beginning to look at him as a person, instead of putting him on a pedestal, as he was doing in the first episodes.

This episode is its beginning. Until now, Joris didn't really know anyone who would question what Kerubim was saying.

Anyway,

There's no fucking way he actually said that. I refuse to believe that.

Aaand one last hit of that "Kerubim Crepin is a LIAR who LIES" weed that drives me insane.

He probably has a lot to think about, regarding his papycha.

Welcome to the club, Joris.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Tag Game: OC Interaction (Round 3!)

thanks to @illarian-rambling for the tag!

Rules: Provide a short description of your OC, then using the description given by the person who tagged you, describe how you think the two of them would interact.

Tagger's OC: Djek Kagura is a young man (19 in the first book, 23 in the second two) with a shifty appearance, red eyes, and a constant squint due to poor vision. He grew up on the streets after his parents tossed him out to cut down on mouths to feed, only to later join the brutal Tunnel Wasp smuggling gang, which he later split from due to his aversion to violence and need to do what's right. As a person, he's always quick with a joke or snide comment, loves sarcasm, and lies like a fish breathes water. His bad habit is that he loves to annoy people on purpose. At his core is a deep sense of self-loathing and abandonment issues, but he covers these with humor. He tends to try to find peaceful solutions to situations and has a bit of a bleeding heart, even if he pretends to be tough. His friends mean the world to him and he's loyal to the point getting himself hurt in fights he can't win. Also, he's surprisingly in touch with people's emotions and always trys to make them feel better, even he does it with a bad joke or by irritating them to action. He has a weak form of sorcery, specializes in shadow magic, and has incorrigibly sticky fingers.

My OC: Diana Ozborne (as chosen by The Wheel) is a woman in her late thirties with red hair, freckles and heterochromia. She primarily makes her living as a musician, playing in taverns and street performing using a wooden flute and her voice. She is also a smuggler and spy, working with dreamshapers to dismantle an unfair societal system. She knows Saint's Shoal like the inner workings of a lock, and can navigate its winding streets like no other. She is incredibly kind despite a lot of trauma in her past, and will not stand for any sort of injustice. She has a vaguely maternal attitude towards Orian Goldeneye, who she sees as having suffered a terrible injustice when his predecessor abandoned him. Diana fights with a bo staff and avoids dealing killing blows. Between her various skills she is a force to be reckoned with on her chosen path.

How I think they'd interact: As a pair of people who toe the line between neutral good and chaotic good (from what I'm getting from the description of Djek at least), no one would be safe. They'd be an unstoppable vigilante/thieving/smuggling duo working to dismantle the system. Diana would also see this traumatized younger person and be like "Is anyone gonna adopt that? No? Okay, I'll do it myself."

Gently tagging @fourwingedwriter @faytelumos @gummybugg @annakayy @spitefulbull

@thewritingautisticat @writingphoenix @elizaellwrites and open tag! :D

[narrators-journal]

tumblr gave me an error last time so im gonna try again bc im adamant. can i have boyfriend rights and get you to write me a self indulgent tooth rotting fluff vash one shot pwease... u can make it reader... or use addy.... if you dont wanna look into trigun lore outside of vash you can make it reverse isekai bc i think vash deserves a break.... ok wuv you kissa you so sweetly

So! I have never seen more than a tiktok of Vash the stampede, so I know NOTHING of this show and won't write for it again. But, you have boyfriend rights and I have an inkling of Vash's personality, so enjoy my best attempt at some fluff to cheer you up, honeybee <3

Sometimes the universe revealed some wild abilities, like an extinct animal evolving back into existence, or some scarily lethal toxins. Whether it was a nice surprise or a bad one, the world still had a few tricks up her sleeve it seemed. Which, was how you somehow ended up with a tall, lanky, traumatized goofball as a new roommate and flirting buddy.

Vash really was a marvel of the world, something of a 8th wonder due to being an anime character come to reality. And, despite coming from a sci-fi, dystopian tale, he was nowhere near as sharp-edged and blood-thirsty as the movies you'd seen would lead someone to believe.

Instead, Vash was as careful with everything as a giant with the worlds most delicate china. Ever since staying with you, he'd proven to be a whole-hearted pacifist. From you, to a deer you got the pleasure of watching headbutt him in the gut and toss the metal-armed man into the air, the blonde didn't even raise his voice, let alone put a harmful finger on anyone or anything.

Despite every horrid thing you'd read of this man going through in his manga, he had a kindness that warmed your heart every time you saw it. So, you wanted to return that favor and give him some source of low-effort joy of his own. One that he couldn't argue he'd accidentally hurt with his metal arm's strength or lose with his bad luck.

Which, is why you hauled home a tank, decoration, and a fish.           "Hey! Vash!" You called once you walked through your front door, your roomie soon emerging from the spare room he had claimed as his own.           "Uh, there something you need?" He asked, jumping to help you carry in the fish tank before you could even ask. As eager to be of use as ever.

But, you weren't going to complain. Vash could haul in the hefty glass tank and stand as if they were little more than loaves of bread, and all you had to do was give him the order and he was off to fetch you whatever you needed for the assembly or tank set up. It made getting everything together a far easier task than if you had to do it yourself.

      "So, who's the fish for? I always took you as a cat or a dog person." The blonde asked when you finally put the fish in. And before you answered, you took a moment to see the simple glee in the scarred man's face while he watched the colorful creature swim around, taking it as a sign that this was a good idea. "It's actually for you, hon. So you can have something to take care of and keep you company." At that, the tall man shot up, his eyes suddenly wide with horror, "What?! But what if I mess it up? I could kill this little guy after you spent all this money on him?!"

You shook your head at the argument, simply smiling at him, "Come on, Vash. You stay home all day worrying and fretting over me while I'm at work, you deserve a little friend to help keep you calmer." You explained, making the tall man squirm as if your kind gesture physically hurt him. "I really don't deserve this consideration..." "Well I insist! You don't do anything for yourself, so I did something for you. You can name them whatever you want, enjoy your fish." Upon your insistence, Vash did back down, but you could still see the uncertainty in his eyes.

However, you didn't comment on it and simply went on to make yourself some lunch. You left Vash with his fish and only peeked into the living room now and then to see him just watching the colorful creature with the interest of a child watching saturday cartoons.

[fullofvexation]

A lil something for everyone! :D Haven- A13, K6 Nona Paloma- A2, L2 Roka- F2, C8 Kittiwake Tern- F11, B9 Edmond Du Bogue- A24, D4

Ahh thank you for asking about my characters!!! Yippee!

I'm putting a readmore here cus there's a lot of them! Anyone who reads all of these you're my new bff now I am weeping and crying

Haven

a13. Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

Haven is terrified of getting wet and water! He's an undead guy who was mummified when we has first killed, and he's very afraid that he'll start to rot if he gets wet. He doesn't know how to swim and avoids boats and any sort of water at all costs.

k6. Does their paranormal aspect cause issues in daily life? If so, how do they feel about it?

Even within the fantasy world where he lives, Haven is "paranormal" in that he's undead, and looks like a desiccated corpse. This causes him issues in his daily life because the undead are generally feared and hated, so he's always hiding that, mostly by wearing clothes that hide the huge hole in his chest and a mask that hides his lack of eyes. He's got complicated feelings about his situation, but generally dislikes it. He's very aware that he's ugly and monstrous, and still trying to decide whether he is a monster or not, and generally struggles to accept his situation.

Nimona-Paloma Charrata aka Nona

a2. What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…

Nona is chaotic neutral! She generally acts this way due to being deeply and consistently out of touch with what is normal and acceptable, and what's going on in general. She is offputting and nosy and generally just does whatever she wants, in a way that's very childish and clueless.

l2. What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Nona's whole concept is based around the idea of an NPC suddenly granted PC-style capabilities and agency. She spent her whole existence standing outside her house asking passersby to help her with tasks before suddenly acquiring magical powers and getting thrown into the life of an adventurer. Nona's main themes are being a fish out of water and needing to learn how exist as a person! It's tough to know how to be someone when you've never had to make any choices for yourself or interacted with anyone in a meaningful way.

Roka

f2. What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

Roka's ideal home is the one she currently lives in with her wife and daughter! After losing everyone she knew when her community was destroyed and a series of pretty traumatic events in the fallout of that, all she wants is her new start, and in this case, that looks like a little house with a few apple trees located in a small village.

c8. Is your OC more practical or ideal morally?

Roka is a deeply practical person. As a young woman, she was raised to be a priestess in a death cult and did things out of a deep sense of moral righteousness. When she realized her goddess wasn't real and her religion was a manipulation tactic to convince people to sacrifice each other, she fully threw all that out of the window. She became someone who twists her morals to achieve her goals, and is convinced that her goals justify her actions, even if those include being cruel or manipulative or violent.

Prof. Kittiwake Tern

f11. What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation?

Kittiwake Tern is a stuffy and proper man who's sense of fun has been generally shredded by years of being in academia (and being the pawn of a malevolent arctic being). In his free time, he likes to read books that would be impressive to people if anyone asked him what he was reading, and drink tea (if he's having a good day) or brandy (if he's having a bad one).

b9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most?

Kittiwake Tern does not approve of humor in general, though he does enjoy a well thought out play on words, or any sort of comedy that's appropriately literary.

Edmond Du Bogue

a24. What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles?

Edmond wants to be a folk hero knight, but he's a sheltered 20 year old rich boy who's leaving the house for the first time. His biggest obstacles are that he has zero experience with "real life" (or anything else) and that it isn't much like all those novels he read growing up. He's working to get that experience, though sometime, he isn't sure he really wants it...

d4. Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not?

Edmond wouldn't particularly like being immortal. He's very concerned with his life and practical problems, and the idea of being immortal would absolutely stress him out to an impossible degree. Edmond is a very small fish who is just now realizing that he's in an ocean, not a pond, and the last thing he needs right now is for the scope of things to get bigger and more complicated.

[mayybirds]

If you don’t mind, I’d love to hear more about the Winterses’ relationships to each other! Anything from little details and habits to just general explanations/rundowns would be treasured :D

Anon I always want to talk about the Winterses I 100% do not mind at all lol.

I think the family as a whole is simultaneously really closely bonded (partially due to the sheer trauma they experienced together) and also experience a lot of friction very easily. They love each other intensely but they weren't really Raised together and they all come from different backgrounds, be them religious, cultural, or socioeconomic. It leaves room for a lot of friction, especially between Delia and the kids. I think in the early years there was a lot of rapid oscillation between "You're not my mom, my mom is dead, fuck off and stop trying to parent me" and "Delia i'm so sorry i'm so scared please never leave me". Sometimes within the hour. She was a like 32 year old woman suddenly in charge of 3 teenagers, having no real childcare experience, and it was kind of a mess. She loves the kids though and they love her. As adults her relationships with Michael and Ethan are a lot more stable than they were when they were younger--though conversely, while Ava relied on her a lot as a traumatized kid desperate for a parental figure, Ava is a lot more stilted with her now as an adult. Delia has never pretended she knew what she was doing or that she was prepared for this, but she's always made sure the kids know she loves them and she didn't keep them with her just out of obligation. She wants to be in their lives--whether that's as their mom, their 'aunt', their guardian, or just their friend. They get to define who she is to them, and she's okay that sometimes that changes in the moment (see: Ethan's POV. He mixes up whether Delia is his 'aunt' or just 'Delia' in his thoughts a lot, while also very clearly viewing her as a mom even if he avoids calling her that most of the time).

Delia’s focus since RC has always been the kids. She’s so deeply embedded in survivor networks to this day because she was one of the first to go “look we need to figure out long term options for fake IDs and paperwork. I’ve got three kids who should be in school.” She worked a lot of odd jobs once they reached California to keep the lights on (yes they maybe squatted in a few places at first what about it). She was a mechanic in RC but after coming to California she ended up working primarily private security at first because it paid well and was mostly nights. She went back to being a mechanic when the kids got a little older and Michael and Ethan started helping with rent (despite her insistences otherwise. They were adults and they were gonna help Damn it). Michael keeps trying to get her to take it easy these days but she’s only 50 damn it! Don’t treat her like she’s old!!

Michael! Michael is the most well adjusted man in this house comparatively (which isn't a high bar but at least he cleared it. Ethan faceplanted tripping over it). He was the oldest when RC happened among the kids, and as an adult he still takes his role as 'big brother' pretty seriously. He loves his idiot siblings, and he loves Delia, too. When RC first happened he was pretty wary of Delia (fairly enough. the world is ending, your mom is dead, your dad is missing, everything's gone to hell in a handbasket, there's paramilitary weirdos running around, and this random white woman just fished you out of the river with this blood-spattered kid next to her? Nah), and in the months that followed he definitely better handled her treating him like a younger friend/ally ("I know you don't really need me, but Ethan and Ava need us both, so would you be willing to help me with them?" kind of vibe, even if Delia is also 'YOU ARE A CHILD' at Michael internally). He supported the ruse of passing them off as a family long before he saw them as one, but he grew attached to Ethan and Ava, and Delia, faster than he'd have ever copped to as a kid. And for all his grumbling about the stupidity of their various schemes and covers ("Sure Delia pass off three kids as half-siblings by three different fathers, one of which you'd have had to have as a teenager, that's believable" "DO YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA MICHAEL IF I SAY YOU'RE ADOPTED OR FOSTER KIDS THAT WILL RAISE EVEN MORE QUESTIONS"), he's kind of glad Delia always insisted on passing them off as a family, one way or another (the Winterses changed aliases and cover stories a lot when running from Raccoon City to avoid a clear trail, before they settled down in Cali). These days, he's the kid most unashamed to call her mom. She's his mom! He had another mom, too, and that's okay. Delia is his mom and she's also just Delia and he loves her. Michael still lives with her in California. He's lived on his own a lot, of course, and dated around, but relationships aren't really for him (he's a scrupulously honest person and hates that any relationship would require lying), and he likes being at home. He does have a robust friend network, though, and he likes to volunteer coaching the swim team at the local Y. He works as a manager at a local goodwill center. He’d have liked to have gone into social work or a medical field, but he worried about any profession that would have required a lot of background checks. He did take some nursing classes in community college, though. He attended school late, like Ethan did—both for financial reasons and because they wanted longer for their identities to be settled before they braved college paperwork.

Michael gets along with both of his siblings really well. He’s Ethan’s best friend (and the person Ethan was on the phone with at the beginning of RE7 in TtVtL canon), and has always looked out for him, even when they were teenagers (it defo painted an entertaining picture to everyone else. Michael was Cool and Ethan was Not and every other ~17yr old was not sure why he let this weedy 15yr old with the thousand yard stare follow him around. There was a lot of “excuse you that’s my BROTHER” energy). Michael meanwhile is very much the grounding older brother presence for Ava. She’s not good at taking Advice from Ethan because they’re closer in age and she thinks those in glass-houses-of-pretending-nothing-happened should not throw stones, but she’s better at taking it from Michael. She’s his baby sister and he wants to protect her but he also knows lecturing her doesn’t get him anywhere. I think as the two POC of the family they also just have bonding points on issues Ethan and Delia just can’t get.

Ava...loves her family. But it's hard to be around them. She's just still so angry about everything that happened, and her family respects her anger, but Delia just wants to keep the kids safe and Michael just wants to live a normal life and Ethan wants to pretend nothing happened. It's frustrating for her to try to talk to them about it because Ethan Doesn't want to talk about it and Michael mostly just is like "Ava babe please consider therapy" and Delia understands her anger but is also like. Her Mom. she wants her to be careful and safe and Ava doesn't want to be careful she wants the world to answer for what happened!! She fights with Ethan about it the most. But they still love each other--and would do anything to protect each other. She lives far away from the rest of the family and can't contact them a lot, but calls when she can. She has...employment. Her employer is not her day job. Her day job does not know her name is Ava Winters. She does not enjoy her work, but she thinks it's necessary. But if she had to choose between her job and her family? Her family. Always. She won't lose anyone again.

[quinloki]

Okay, this ship ask game is like, a dream come true. Because now I get to go into la-la-land and you know exactly why. Arlong. The fish-man everyone else loves to hate and I just love to love. 100% going self-ship on this one.

I am going with something a little on the nose (pun not intended) for him, Prompt 25—Write about your ship bathing or swimming together. This....is probably going to go very long because I am running with this for all it is worth.

Now, my man is a fish-man so he has the lovely advantage of pretty much everything when it comes to water. He has built in flippers in not just his feet but his hands as well and the bastard gets to breathe underwater to boot. To top it all off, he's a saw shark with an attitude, so while he must be wary of sea kings he doesn't really need to worry about anything else.

Me on the other hand? I don't know how to swim. Yup, the infamous fish-man snagged himself (or rather he himself was snagged) a woman who cannot swim. This isn't to say I have a devil fruit either. Look, I haven't been to church in a loooooooong time but even I remember, if the devil offers you a fruit you say no and run in the opposite direction of him.

No, I just never bothered learning how to swim. It wasn't that I didn't have ample opportunities, Mom tried desperately to get me to learn. I simply refused. Why? Well, Arlong asked the very same thing one day while we were exploring an island. The question came about as we found a decent-sized, hidden lake in the middle of some woods with what seemed to be a stone-faced "cliff" on one side of it. There was a mini-waterfall from the cliff (it wasn't a cliff, there was a rock formation that had a high point where one could dive off of, but we're in the middle of some woods here).

Arlong was eyeing the lake and I could tell an idea of mischief was forming in his mind. We'd never been swimming together. Not once. Long ago he had asked why I seemed to avoid water as if it itself were a plague. I eventually, sheepishly told him I didn't know how to swim. That was a half-truth. He thought all this time I was afraid of going near water because I didn't know how to swim.

So, now I was trapped and had to explain he had it backwards. I don't know how to swim because I'm afraid of the water. The way he looked at me. I swear that information took him 10 minutes to process. I'm a moron, I should have taken that lengthy interval to put as much distance between me and that lake as humanly possible. But I just stood there waiting for Arlong to react. I was mostly waiting for him to laugh at me, because who ever heard of something so ridiculous?

Finally his brain unfritzes, "so, are you afraid of what's in the water? Like regular sharks or something?" Well, at least he wasn't laughing, yet.

"Nope. I love sharks, you of all people should know that—" he grimaces here, fully remembering how we first met, I may or may not have traumatized him inadvertently. "I am genuinely afraid of the water itself. I know for a fact, it wants to kill me."

He raises an eyebrow, "a fact huh? You're afraid of the actual, water." The last word is pointed, he's either trying really hard not to laugh at me or his opinion of me just plummeted. Whichever it is, I'm getting embarrassed and try to stomp off away from him to go cry somewhere.

Alas, Arlong is exactly two-and-a-half-feet taller than me. He overtakes me in one stride, the bastard. "Hey now, I wasn't mocking you. I'm just trying to get a handle on this is all. I certainly wasn't expecting water to be the culprit here." He deftly wipes away a tear with his thumb before it has a chance to fall down my cheek.

I do what I do best and bottle up the emotions, swallowing the rest of the tears down. In my head, he's mocking me but in actuality he isn't. He's being very calm.

Arlong lets out a sigh. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a swim, but I guess that's been rendered moot."

"Arlong, we don't have a spare set of clothes on hand."

"We wouldn't be swimming in our clothes, this isn't a party with booze and crew."

"Arlong, are you suggesting skinny dipping on a gods forsaken island?"

He looks away with a crafty glint in his eye and shrugs, "we're the only ones here and it's not like we haven't seen each other in the nude before." He looks back at me and stares intently into my eyes, I just now those icy blues of his mean no good right now. "We still could y'know." He gives one of his toothy smirks.

A normal person, a normal human no less, would have a chill of fear go down their spine because of those smirks. Not me, I just about melt. Just as I'm getting ready to remind him that I. Cannot. Swim. He beats me to the punch.

"Look, I'm a fish-man for crying out loud. I can breathe under the water and swim better than anything on this island. I'm not saying I'll teach you how to swim, I'm pretty sure that ship sailed and sank long ago (I flip him off at this). What I'm proposing is, you allow me to hold onto you in the water. I swear to you, I will not let go and I will not let your head go below the water."

Now, it's my turn to get crafty. I use what little feminine wiles I have and coyly stare back, "can I hold onto your dorsal fin?"

Arlong rolls his eyes, "what is it with you and my dorsal fin, woman?"

"I like it! It's sexy."

"All sharks have a dorsal fin. Are all sharks sexy then?"

"No."

"Then what the hell is it about mine?!"

"You really want to have this conversation now?"

"What conversation? How is this a conversation? I'm so confused, are we swimming or not?"

"Can I hold onto your dorsal fin?"

"No."

"Aw c'mon Arlong! Just this once!"

Facepalming as he realizes he brought this upon him self for allowing himself to fall for a lowly human, he heaves an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Clothes off, hold onto the dorsal fin, and I'll swim you around the lake. Then we do it my way, fair?"

Grinning like I just won the lottery I practically shout "deal!"

And true to his word, Arlong swims me around the lake with me holding onto his dorsal fin on his back. After a few laps, he pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly against his chest as he lazily swims in the lake, his back facing the lake floor so that I can practically lay down on his chest as if he were a floating pool lounge chair. It's mildly awkward because I don't want to wrap my arms around his neck or shoulders because that's where the gills are and I don't want to interfere with those.

Arlong chuckles, which feels like a low earthly tremor radiating from his body into mine, "so that's why you wanted to hold onto my dorsal fin. To avoid the gills?"

"Guilty as charged."

"Go ahead then, I don't mind. And for the record, you can't impinge breathing and you won't hurt the gills either. They're not that fragile. I'm a shark not a goldfish."

Now it's my turn to laugh, "you know technically speaking, fish who can breathe in the air can only do so temporarily. They have a special organ for it and everything. The critters than have both gills for breathing underwater and lungs for breathing on land are usually newts and some other versions of salamanders. So, technically you're an amphibian and not a fish."

"I hate you."

"I love you too Arlong."

Okay this was a treat. I don't even really know what to say to it. I love how well you balance the vibe of Arlong with the function of a full on relationship.

I LOVE the splitting hairs about classifications too, that just tickles me pink xD

Bathing/swimming with your ship hmm... Marco x reader style: Bathing isn't really the right word for it. He doesn't mind relaxing in the tub with you on occasion, but he really loves showering together. He loves getting to basically preen over you and clean you himself, teasing and touching and snuggling at the same time.

Spare moments are short, and he'd rather tangle up in one another arms and cuddle in bed, instead of cuddle in the tub. Preferring to run his fingers through your drying hair, and not your wet hair.

Not that he rushes shower time, he certainly takes his time, and he doesn't deny you the pleasure of returning the favor of cleaning him if you want. But he doesn't exactly make it easy for you, touching and teasing in return as you work.

Cuddling, admittedly, is not usually the first order of business once you're both out of the shower, and sometimes what you end up doing sends you right back in for another - albeit shorter and more focused shower.

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