#the cool ones (Fire and Boulder)

[fierykitten2]

Not entirely sure what I was doing on The Cutting Room Floor but I think I accidentally tried to hypnotise myself by staring at the gif of Walking Wake’s shiny and now I’m thinking about an idea I had a few months ago (before I got the DLC) where Game Freak could make the imagined fusions appear in-game (as alternate forms for Wake and Leaves but the Beast fusion has Fire and Bolt included while the Sword fusion has Boulder and Crown included) but have them event raid exclusive and be shiny for no particular reason (because somehow when there are probably less instances of their individual species put together than the shiny chance denominator three of the few instances that made it through are shiny? Like that just makes no sense). Also I’ll admit it, Wake and Leaves’s shinies are pretty

[running-with-kn1ves]

A Siren's Hunger

A/N: Wrote this a year (?) ago but decided to edit it to make it post-worthy. Idk what I was on when I wrote this.

CW: reader losing a lot of blood, biting, graphic fears of being eaten, predator vs prey, sharp teethses Synopsis: Dragged underwater by a siren, you play a series of games to prevent her from devouring you whole, only to offer an uncomfortable proposition in exchange for your life.

"Eight... nine... ten! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" 

You covered your mouth with pruned fingers, roughly cutting off any oxygen as your chest pounded. Your heart was going a mile a minute, as if you were a small, skittish creature hiding from something ready to devour. You peered around the rock you hid behind, eyes darting around the small body of water and searching for any signs of movement. The water rippled in small waves but you couldn't tell where they were coming from. 

The water always seemed to be moving, no matter if everything inside of it stood still. You gripped the rock with one hand, the other still covering your mouth and nose as you tried to breathe as quietly as possible. 

Your eyes were wide and alert, your mind chanting prayers and hopes of being hidden enough to at least last through this game. But a fin flipped to your left, creating waves and reverbed echoes in the shadowy cave. You jerked back behind the large boulder, splashing lightly in the water as you sank lower to hide yourself. Your entire body was wet, hair dripping as your clothes were drenched to the point of sagging. 

They clung to your skin, each layer sticky and damp and refusing to let go. Your shoes made it impossible to swim long distances, and the sweater entrapping your arms and torso made you sink slightly. At this point you were tempted to take it off if it meant you had a better chance at swimming away. 

The sound of slapping on the water was closer now, hums of excitement and curiosity only a few feet away from the rock you desperately held on to. Her voice was so near, crystal clear and beautiful snippets of a song you had never heard. It was enchanting, drawing your hand away from your mouth. Your eyes glazed over, begging to be drawn out from behind the rock and towards the alluring voice. You tried to push back, digging your nails into the boulders surface and even wrapping your legs around it. But it wasn't enough; your body had a new goal that didn't involve survival. Mere attraction, a fatal seduction that would turn you to nothing but clumps of wet meat in the sea.

It felt like your skin was on fire, burning up in the cool water as you tried to shut your eyes and plug your ears. But as the singing got louder, a soft and tempting melodic voice calling to you, you couldn't hold back. Your mind grew hazy, only focusing on the fins sticking out of the deep water and the enchanting voice that clouded your senses. 

As soon as you realized your mistake --stepping a mere few inches beside the boulder rather than behind it-- you were too late. 

"Boo!" She shouted. The end of her siren song caused you to snap out of your trance and shriek at her sunken, angled face. 

You swam back to the rock as she laughed, your nails scraping against the rough surface as you clung to it for security. 

"You're so easy," she giggled, her mouth opening to air rows of shark-like sharp, lethal, teeth. 

"You, cheated--" Huddling into yourself you shyed away from her with a heavy exhale. She made you afraid, every part of her screaming at you to “run away or be eaten” but you couldn't; in this small little pool, stuck in this freezing cave, you had no way out. Well, no way without drowning first, or being “shredded alive” as the siren sweetly put it after bringing you in here.

You shuddered, looking down at the underwater hole opening to the endless sea that tempted you. If you were just a little bit stronger, a little faster, you could make it out of this sparkling, terrifying cave that you got dragged in. 

"I didnt cheat," she licked her lips, bobbing up and down in the water. "You're just a sore loser. Now, my prize?" 

You clenched your teeth, traveling around the boulder to the other side as she pursued you. Her slick, charcoal hair nearly covered the boney and wide features of her face; terrifying electric blue eyes peering deeply at you, like a prey she couldn't let out of her sight lest it bolt. She was bizarrely gaunt, yet possessed an unseen strength and serratedness in her teeth and fingers, her tail a flexible whip that had yet to be used against you.

But, that doesn't count! You used a method I couldn't get away from, s-so--" 

"You could have gotten away if you tried hard enough." She lifted an eyebrow, continuing to float at you around the boulder, but not yet striking. "I've had humans manage to escape. They've been few and far between but..." she grinned maliciously, reminiscing on their taste and fond memories of such chase. "If you really wanted it, you could have won. But you didn't." 

"You have an unfair advantage," you scowled, trying to protect yourself from her hands that seemed keen on grabbing yours. "Please, uhm," 

"Alette. Did you forget already?" 

"Well it's kind of hard to remember when you're threatening to maim me!" You shot back. You were panicking, hardly a head above begging for your life and cussing her out simultaneously. "Please just give me another chance,  just one more game--" 

"That's what you said last time, little fish. And the time before that," She drew closer as you tried to run around the rock again; those eyes, solidly blue and vibrant-- how could something be so bright in such a lightless cave?

 "When are you going to accept your fate? I dont mind an easy meal." She grabbed your hand with a snarl, stopping you from swimming away. "What other choice do you have than to give in, It's not like you're going to escape any time soon." 

Despite how much you resented the siren, she was right. You had gotten yourself stuck in this situation-- night swimming at the beach, ALONE-- and now had no way of leaving or calling for help. And it was clear that Alette wasnt going to provide any assistance away from this forsaken air pocketed cave, unless it consisted of eating you. 

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to let you kill me!" 

"We play this little game over and over again just to let you keep some dignity. Face it-- stop struggling and let me take a bite." 

She opened her mouth, aiming for your throat. 

"No!" You shouted, shoving her pointed, scaled shoulders as you push away from the rock. Alette grunted animalistically through her pearly teeth, diving underwater. You were grateful for your mildly decent swimming skills-- or, the adrenaline that made you move ten times faster. But it still wasn't enough to outswim the creature.

You heard a rough splash before sensing her grip. The siren slammed you against a nearby cave wall, her claws digging into your shoulders as your head pressed against the jagged rock. 

The wind was immediately knocked out of you, your labored breathing not phasing Alette. 

The siren drew closer, her mouth gaping open towards your neck as her claws dug into the wool covering your shoulders. Up close, you could see her less than human features more prominently. Her slit eyes so devious, with thinned eyebrows and a sickly pale complexion. Her mouth naturally curved into a sly, widely unnatural smile, ready and satisfied to eat you. The gills on her neck and the fins replacing her ears faded from ghostly white skin to a dark blue-ish black, like frostbite; the rubbery flesh was wet from all her swimming. She dripped onto you, murky water running from her long, dark hair onto your chest. You had noticed that her upper half was nude, but now it was incredibly visible as her exposed chest pinned against yours. Her sternum seemed to dig into your flesh; tough, sleek skin meant for bumping against hard cave walls or rough sands pressed coldly onto your shivering body. 

"You know, I really do like to play with my food. Trying to see you measly little creatures defy your natural born predator is part of the fun of eating you." Her eye twitched in irk as you tried to push her off again. "But I'm tired of this game. So, I think it's time we end this." 

You turned away with a grimace and tried to squeeze your legs together. Her large, slimy tail was pushed between you as it flickered to stay swimming; the softness of the fins lining her tail were oddly ticklish, making you even more nervous at its foreign touch. 

"Wah-wait!" You shout, trying to open one of your salty, mortified eyes. "What if, I can offer you something else...?" You bite the inside of your lip, hoping she'll listen before deciding to devour you; you could see how thin her patience had become. "In return, you could take me to the surface." 

"In return, I could put off eating you." 

"That works too," you look her up and down, gulping and hardly believing what you're about to say. 

"What can you offer me that's better than eating you?” She asked half heartedly, chuckling at the idea. 

You swallow roughly and, hesitantly, fall limp. Alette raised her eyebrows, surprised at seeing you go slack, an act you hadn't done since she first drug your exhausted, scared figure in the cave. 

Your arms came up against her shoulders as she held yours. She inspected your incoming fingers, curious-- yet not stopping you. You gently slithered upward, leaning against her and pulling her closer by scaled shoulders. 

Your face was only inches away, your gaze on her as she looked at you with suspicious eyes. 

"It may not be much, but it's all I can offer..." you mumble, looking down at yourself and feeling for the soaked waves of hair touching her shoulders.

Before she could pull you away or you could come to your senses, you lean upwards. Your lips come into contact with hers, gently pressing against her hard, damp face. 

You felt the prick of her teeth as her lips parted, staying statuesquely still. 

You let go of her mouth quickly, returning back to the comfort of the wall as she stared at you, neon eyes burning into you. 

She looked oddly surprised for a moment, taken aback by your forwardness; a look you had never seen her wear. It didn’t last long, her smug expression coming back as quick as lightning. 

"So, your body? Are you sure this is a better trade?" She leered over you, letting go of your sweater to trap you between her hands. They hung above you, pressing against the cave wall as you struggled to stay afloat. "I'm quite vicious you know. Being my companion, or even a mere plaything is no easy feat. I personally think you’d be better off in my stomach." 

You shivered at hearing that, sinking into the water the closer she got. Gulping, you stayed silent. 

"Hmm, No reply?" She drew closer, her face as near as it once was moments ago. "Like I said, I like it more when my food cooperates. I want to hear it from your lips." 

She stroked the side of your face with her nail, running it down your cheek with enough pressure to make you feel how sharp it was. How sharp it could be. 

"I want to hear you ask me for what you want." 

You brought your hands to your chest, Alette twisting her head to look at you more deeply. She was much longer than you, her tail making her both thicker and stronger. Her arms were caged around you, drawing closer the more you sunk into yourself. 

--Absolutely not-- you began to protest in your head. But she grinned so perfectly, so hungrily with a tongue running over each toothly blade; what choice did you have? Did your pride really matter, if you were only dismembered parts left in the sea otherwise?

"I want you to..." 

"Yes?" 

She was growing impatient again. 

"I want you to, to have my body..." 

"And?" 

"And use it...however you'd like...In exchange for my life-- don’t forget that." 

Your face twists in shame at the words coming out of your mouth, immediately feeling a deep, gut sense of humiliation. But you were slightly grateful for this chance to say such embarassing words; If she were a lustless creature, this less horrific fate, may not be possible.  

Alette had the ability to eat you whole, to lure you into the depths of the water and consume you. She didnt need your permission to do anything. The only reason you've survived this long is how much she enjoys the chase of her prey, of getting them to the lowest point of exhaustion to where they beg her to kill them, to put them out of their misery. 

"Why, how forward of you!" She feigned shock. 

The half-human smirked, putting both hands on your waist and pulling it forward.

 "But alright.. if you insist." 

Her mouth aimed straight for yours. The siren held out her tongue, mingling it with your own as her teeth nipped and bit. You groaned in her mouth as she bit your tongue, lapping up the blood with her own. She held her eyes open, boring holes into your  squinted ones in a devious, hazy manner. You knew she could see the pain and weakness in your face. The siren shoved you against the wall again, this time with one hand on your chest and the other in your scalp. Her hand gripped your hair, digging nails into your skull as she pressed herself against you. 

Her sharp fangs dug into your lips over and over, creating pierced marks and falling blood droplets as she desecrated your mouth. Your chest heaved, the pain and lack of oxygen from her kisses making your head spin. 

The scales on her hands glittered against the reflection of the water; it was clear she had never attempted this before, being as ravenous and sloppy as an inexperienced teenage boy. And yet, you felt relief in only trying to avoid her teeth, letting the warmth of her mouth make its way into your cold, salty one. 

"Are you still sure this is a better option than being eaten?" She huffed in your ear, grabbing your sweater to lift up at her leisure. "It only gets worse from here. A siren’s pleasures may be… more demanding than what a human is used to." 

You absentmindedly nodded, looking at her with glazed over and droopy eyes. You could handle it, if it meant seeing the sun, seeing your shitty roommates again someday. As long as you didn’t suffer the agonizing wrath of a monster’s claws and teeth. 

Alette laughed, shriekingly beautiful and odd coming from that wide, murderous mouth. A hand trickles up your stomach, tapping what feels like needles against each rib. 

"Well, don't blame me for what happens then."

The siren pulled away to take your wrist to her mouth, her jaw widening as she leans in to bite. You would have jerked away if it weren't the new iron tight hold on your throat, slamming you mercilessly against the wall of the cave. You grabbed the arm leading to your neck with your free hand; the siren’s daggered teeth sank into your skin, its unbrokeness almost inviting her to have a taste. To Alette, it looked so right. 

Your flesh pooled around her mouth, so smooth and vulnerable. Beads of blood fell into the water below, Alette unable to lap them all up as she deepened her bite. You cried out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you moaned in pain. They hypnotizing creature shoved you harder against the cave the louder you got, making you choke on your cries, her bite now unbearably stinging. 

But what was once a fiery wound, turned into a pulsating agony the moment she unsunk her teeth. Blood spilled from your arm, Alette’s mouth messy with her serpent tongue covered in red. You looked down at your arm with a cringe. The blood pooled down to your fingertips, making a red swarm in the murky water the rest of your body was submerged in. You screamed behind gritted teeth, cradling your arm as it continued to leak onto your clothes. 

"I thought.. you said you wouldn’t," You hiccuped over your words as Alette looked unimpressed, but oddly sympathetic. 

You were just so simple, somehow more gullible compared to the other simpletons she's eaten. Astray sailors, cruise honeymooners, and idiots who stole their dad’s boats; they were all the same. They begged and pleaded for their lives, too stubborn to give in to death. No matter how many she ripped from the surface to put in this feeding ground, none of them seemed to give in as fast as you had. She always liked them simple; submissive. But who knew today would be the day she finally found a trainable companion.

"I'm not going to eat you," she said sternly. "This is a warning. Look," 

Alette twisted your arm, showing you the indents that her teeth left in your flesh. Deep gashes, ones that would leave clean, punctured scars.

"It’s a symbol of possession. It isn’t easily conflicted with a shark or a fish’s bite; if anyone dares come in here, they’ll know you’re already claimed as livestock." Alette bent down to lick the remaining blood that still gushed from your open bite marks. 

That thought might’ve been more terrifying than death; how many like her were out there, feeding on others like this? Were there those who were… worse? You were lightheaded from the thought, the idea that something with even less mercy might ignore this “claim” and go right for your throat like she had. Or, maybe that was the loss of blood decorating Alette’s face.

By the time she finished cleaning your arm, there were only raw bite marks left. Your tears had dried, but the dulling pain was still tingling, sharp pulses making you groan. 

Perhaps, this wasn’t better than being eaten. But it was clear that Alette’s mind was made up-- atleast, for now. Who knew when her hunger urges and natural instincts would get the better of her, causing you to lose an arm or a leg. 

"How about we see how much your feeble body can take, hm? I've observed some new rituals you humans partake in." 

Before you could respond, Alette was already thumbing your wet pants, nipping teasingly rough at your neck. You tried to grip her arm, but the siren had other ideas. Grabbing your legs, she wrapped your thighs around her scaled waist, lifting your body gently to kiss you. Her nails dug into the space above your elbows with ravenous lips coming to make a messy attempt at kissing your mouth. The slimy kiss had a wet exit, her tongue peeking from your mouth to come graze up your salty cheek in a sultry taste.

"Savory, sweet little human."

[ma1dita]

do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest

🐥

also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)

wc: 860

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.

Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.

He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.

In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.

Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.

“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.

“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”

“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.

“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”

He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”

“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”

Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.

“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.

“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.

“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”

“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”

“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.

“Luke! Put me down!”

But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.

“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.

[starfallsturniolo]

head over heels | M.S

This is my first fic, in a hot sec, so sorry if it's ass lmaoooo. Also it's long as fuck

Warnings: Drinking, Smut (don't read/keep scrolling if you don't want to or are uncomf or are a minor PLEASE), Dom!Matt, Angsty, Praise Kink (if you squint) I think that's it lol.

Word Count: 3.7k

Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out until I’m head over heels.

It had hit her like a truck. A semi truck, an 18 wheeler to be exact, carrying something so extremely heavy like granite slabs, or tons of cinder blocks, or even fucking boulders. And it was something so simple as waking up in the morning. She just looked over one night and something had happened, suddenly she was head over heels.

They had gone out for dinner and went to a small gathering after, and that’s where she found herself now. In the bathroom, face flushed, blood thrumming in her ears, hands shaky. There was no way she could have feelings for Matt. No way. The world had to have completely fallen off its axis right?  

There had to be another reason why she feels the way she feels. Seeing him smirk at his brother sent butterflies a flight in her stomach. Seeing him talk to another girl and brush her arm with his hand while laughing sent her heart to the middle of her throat. The laugh that roared out of his throat at something she said made her fists clench.  No. There’s no other reason. She was truly, terrifyingly, falling for Matt Sturniolo. She looked at herself in the mirror, willing to get a hold of her mind and body. Deep breaths she thought, just get through this night and you’ll be fine. Coming out of the bathroom she was faced with Madison, a knowing half smile on her face.

“I was wondering where you got off to. You practically ran out of the room. Anything you want to tell me?” she cocked her head.

“No” I shake my head “Just got a little overwhelmed for a sec, I’m fine though” 

“Whatever you say girl. You seemed a little – put off by something. Wouldn’t have to do with the girl Matt was talking to, would it?” Her eyebrows raised slightly.

“Wha-What are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I don't see how you two look at eachother.” What. “Oh come on. You both look at each other whenever the other isn’t paying attention. You watch as the other walks out of the room with this almost longing in your eyes. You both do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” I say as I gesture for her to move so we can exit the bathroom. 

Walking back into the living room, I grab a cup and quickly down ice cold water, feeling it cool down the fire in my veins. I could do this, I could. 

“Slow down there kid.” I hear a rumble from behind me. I turn to see blue eyes, lighter than the ones I see in my dreams. 

“Chris,” I smile, “Just water buddy, don’t worry.” I do my best not to look over to where Madison returned, where Matt is. Still talking to that girl.

“She’s annoying the shit out of him, just so you know.” My eyes widen at the statement. 

“I don’t kn-”

“Oh cut the bullshit.” He snaps at me. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You know it. I know it. Madison and Nick know it. Hell, I bet every random person knows it.” He sighs. “You both need to get balls and just say something. Literally anything. Because it’s painful to watch.”

“I’m scared,” I whisper. “I didn’t think I really knew until now. Until I saw him with that girl over there. That’s painful to watch”

“You know it’s mutual right?” He says gently.

I scoff, “You don’t have to say that. I don’t want to be pitied.”

“I’m not pitying you. Or lying. It’s mutual. I know my brother, and I’ve only seen him look at someone the way he looks at you maybe twice in his life. And it’s been a while.”

My head was spinning, my breath coming fast. I knew Chris wouldn’t lie to me but I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. The doubt and feeling of not being good enough clouded my thoughts as I just stood staring at him. 

“You should talk to him. And talk to him soon.” He says with knowing eyes. “Nick and I have tried to get through to him on the matter but he refuses to listen, kid just makes excuses and changes the subject.” I nod at him. 

“I need time to just- I don’t know, process? This is new and weird and insane and I don’t even kno-”

“Relax. I’m not saying it has to be tonight. Take your time, but I do think this will all be alright.”

He walks away leaving me alone, but just momentarily as Madison comes back to me.

“Shots?” she smiles knowingly.

“Shots.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s still talking to the girl two hours later. And they’ve moved to the couch, his arm loosely around her shoulder and her hand on his knee. I feel sick, the burn of the alcohol starting to come up. Tears prick my eyes as I make eye contact with him. He tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows in a way to ask You good? I plaster on a smile and nod. Turning back to the counter to grab another beer. 

A hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my thoughts.

“What’s up? You look fucking miserable.” I turn to see Nick behind me, worry in his eyes.

“Just tired, thinking I may head home soon.” “Don’t go yet, come over to the couch and talk with us. Chris was just getting started on this insane story of what happened in this house last time he was here.”

“I’ll be over in a sec, just gonna run to the bathroom.”

After washing my hands, I run into a body leaving the bathroom and get slammed back into the door. 

“Christ, sorry it’s fucking packed in here.”

“You’re good.” I laugh softly looking up. Jesus, he was hot. Something about it seemed familiar. Blue eyes, floppy brown hair, tatto- fucking hell, he’s just like Matt. 

“Need another drink?” He nods to the empty beer bottle in my hand.

“Probably if I’m going to endure this for another hour or two.” I mutter. “What was that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Was just gonna grab another.”

“What a coincidence, so was I.” he smirked. Lord, he was hot. I follow him down the hallway, trying to squeeze past the bodies crammed into the few square feet we were trying to maneuver through. 

Next thing I know, we’re in the kitchen and Nick is calling my name. The blonde girl nowhere to be found.

“I told my friends I’d join them over there.” I say with a sympathetic tone. 

“Ah, gotcha.” He says with a small frown.

“You can… come if you want?”

“Yea, I’d like that.” He smiles. He walks behind me as I sit on the couch, him sitting on the arm.

“Hey, this is-” I stop in my tracks. I don’t know his fucking name. 

“Theo.” He pats my leg. I sense Matt’s eyes tracking the movement.

“Well Theo, welcome to the group.” Chris smirks. 

After 20 minutes of conversation and introductions, I find myself reaching the brink of my tolerance. One more drink and I’d probably be on my ass. Madison can obviously sense that as she hands me her cup of water with a raised brow. I nod in thanks. 

“You good?” Theo whispers in my ear.

“Perfectly fine.” I smile at him. I hear a deep breath from across me and look towards the sound. Matt. He looked furious. What the fuck?

“I think we’re going to get going.” He huffs out. Ok something was definitely wrong. Madison, Nick and Chris stand up following his lead.

“You coming?” Madison asks me. My heart stuttered. Do I go? Or do I stay, and try to fuck the feelings and thoughts running through my head away.

“No, I think I’m gonna stay a little longer.” I can see Theo smirk out of the corner of my eye. And, unfortunately, I can also see Matt’s jaw clenching, hands in fists, and his back go rigid. Chris shoots his eyes from me to Matt. Back and forth about five or so times. He definitely thought this was a bad idea. Madison’s trying to hide the proud smile forming on her face. I knew I would be getting a phone call from her as soon as we woke up in the morning. 

“Ok, well remember, we’re meeting at ours in the morning. You got the key?” Nick asks.

“I got it. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” I nod, trying not to look Matt or Chris in the eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to a pounding headache and an arm draped over my waist. My heart dropped into my stomach. Matt? No. No, not Matt. Theo. Jesus Christ what was I doing. 

After getting back to Theo’s I had completely forgotten about my revelation earlier in the night. Well, kinda. He looked so much like him. Almost to an absurd level. He could be be their quadruplet for fucks sake. 

He was a good fuck, I had to admit, although I wasn’t surprised. I looked to my phone to see the time, 10:15. I had to get going, and fast. I slipped out of bed finding my clothes from last night, wiping the mascara from under my eyes. My hair was an absolute nest, and I sure looked thoroughly fucked. 

“Hey.” Theo mumbled into the pillow.

“Hey, I gotta get going.” I say sheepishly. See this was new for me. Not the fact that I fucked a guy hours after I met them, no that I did frequently. One time I only knew the guy for a mere 30 minutes before I went back to his place. But I never stay the night. Ever. 

“Let me drive you. And here.” He starts getting up and throws me a shirt. I bite my lip. I want to get out of here. Now.

“No, no it’s ok I can get an uber.”

“Please. Let me drive you.” God WHY did he have to be so nice. Fuck it.

“Ok.” I say slowly slipping the soft shirt over my head. 

We pull up to the triplet’s apartment after 20 minutes of staring out the window in silence, save for a dry ass sentence here and there. I felt bad, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak much. I was anxious as hell. The mixture of staying over, the hangover, him reminding me so much of Matt and knowing that was probably the reason why I fucked him, seeing Matt sober for the first time after what I realized last night. It was a lot. 

“Can I get your number?” I need to get out of this car now.

“Sure.” I type it into his phone, knowing that the chances of him getting a reply was scarce.

“Great. Maybe we can grab drinks later this week.”

“Uh, sure yeah that sounds great.” No chance at that either.

I shut the car door and take out my keys, finding the spare and unlocking the door. I take a deep breath. And then another. And another. The nausea was creeping in and it wasn’t from the obscene amount of alcohol I had consumed last night.

I slip off my shoes and pad into the living room.

“Well it’s about damn time.” Nick says loudly. 

“Nick. My fucking head. Shut up you literal idiot.” Chris groans.

“Hey it’s not my fault you came back and downed another two beers.”

“Shut. Up.” He throws a pillow to the couch.

“Well. You look…” Madison begins.

“Disheveled. New Shirt?” Nick finishes, silently laughing. 

I scoff, “Yeah thanks guys. Exactly what everyone wants to hear in the morning.”

“I was extremely surprised to not find you on the couch this morning when I went to pee.” Chris looks up at me, a small smirk on his face.

“In the five years I’ve known you, I have never woken up and not seen you on the couch after a night out. Even when you don’t initially come home with us.” Madison purses her lips trying to hide a smile. 

“Time for the morning after debrief!” Nick yells.

“Would you stop fucking screaming you big yellow beast.” Chris screams back.

“Yeah well who’s yelling now” Nick throws back.

“If I could stand up right now without falling over I would kill you Nick”

“I’d like to see you fucking try you big baby.”

“Fucking. Quit. It.” Matt says sternly. I look over to the chairs at the island in the kitchen. I hadn’t seen him when I walked in. He meets my eyes, no emotion to be seen. 

“Alright back to the debrief.” Nick throws a gatorade at me. I sit down next to Madison.

“What? You don’t want to change first.” Matt says glaring at me. Everyone goes silent, looking between the two of us. Turn my head back to Nick.

“Debrief.” I nod, ignoring Matt. I don’t know who shoved something up his ass this morning, but I was not ready to deal with him. And what the actual fuck is his problem. I’ve seen him hungover multiple times, but I’ve never seen him get an attitude like this.

After Nick, Chris and Madison talk about how they all ubered home, Nick almost vomiting out the window, not because he was drunk but because the driver was a “fucking maniac” he excused. It rounded back to me. 

I took a breath, picking at my fingernails.

“We left probably half an hour after you guys, Theo had a friend who wasn’t drinking so he dropped us at his place.”

“And? How was he?” Nick gestured for me to move forward. Usually I was really open with this stuff around them. But for some reason this morning, after the shock of last night, it felt so weird. I could sense Matt’s eyes boring into me.

“He was, uh…”

“Oh come on.” Chris sits up. “Don’t hold back. What kind of freaky shit did you get into?” My face screwed up.

“God, nothing like that. He was good, great actually. Better than the last few.” Matt shoots up out of the chair, stomps to his room and slams the door.

“What the fuck is his problem?!” I throw my hands into the air.

“I think- I think it’s time you tell him kid.” Chris shoots me a solemn look.

“I hate to agree with Chris, but I agree with Chris.” Nicks looks at me, Madison nods. I groan.

“Not yet.”

“Yes. It has to be now. Or else we’re going to have to deal with this for the foreseeable future.” Madison states.

“Fine.” I huff out and stand up. Slowly walking to his room, trying to swallow my pride and praying to the universe I don’t make an absolute fool out of myself. 

I approach his door.

“Matt?” I knock.

“What do you want?” He snaps from behind the door. I open it, staring at him on the bed looking at the ceiling.

“Did I say you could come in?”

“Ok what the fuck is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Obviously you do.”

“Maybe that’s you projecting. Maybe you obviously have a problem. Whoring yourself out to any guy you meet within a few hours. What number was this? 25? 30? Did you even remember his name? I bet you forgot, bet you mixed it up with one of the many other men you’ve slept with in the past few months.” He growls. My jaw drops to the floor, hot tears filling my eyes. He’s never spoken this way to me. Never spoken to anyone this way before in the years I’ve known him. Legs shaking, I start walking to the bathroom knowing I’m seconds away from tears. I try to shut the door but he wedges his body in between.

“I didn’t mean that.” Anger still present in his voice.

“Then why the hell would you say it Matt?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. All I know is that the minute I left that party I could not get you out of my head. Actually. That’s a lie. Every time you go home with some random guys I cannot get you out of my head. And it’s driving me. Fucking. Crazy. I couldn’t sleep, sick to my stomach picturing him with you. His hands on you, I-” I cut him off.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. All I know is.. Fuck it.” He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me roughly, slamming the bathroom door shut with his foot.  I open my mouth to breathe but he doesn’t let me, pushing my body against the sink. I let out a moan of pain as my spine connects with the tile. I can feel his smirk against my lips. He then takes my bottom lip into his mouth and bites softly. I let out a whimper. 

“Shh. We can’t have them hearing us can we?” He whispers, then attacks my neck. He lifts me up onto the countertop. He lifts the t-shirt off my body. “Get this fucking thing off.” He growls. I go to cover my boobs as he bats my hands away. “Never. Fucking. Do that.” He says, his voice the lowest I’ve ever heard it before. He flips on the bathroom fan adding some noise to conceal the fact that we’re in here. 

He brings his mouth down to my chest, taking one nipple into his mouth then blowing a cool breath before moving to the other. Shivers run down my body. 

“Matt.” I start.

“I told you. Be Quiet.” He barks out. He starts moving lower, working me out of pants, leaving me in my underwear, smirking at the sight. He works his thumb over my underwear, and I blush knowing how I wet I am, and the fact that it’s probably visible through the fabric.

“Already?” He smirks. He pulls my underwear down, running his fingers up and down. “No one else gets to touch you ever again right?” I whimper. “I said right?”

“Yes. Yes. No one else, just you.” I whisper.

“Good girl. Use your words. Does this feel good?” He asks as he brings his mouth to my clit, softly licking. 

“Y-yes.”

“And this?” He adds a finger inside of me, groaning at how wet I already am. I moan in response.

“I said. Use your words.”

“Yes Matt. Feels so good.” He smiles as he continues, adding a second finger and pumping slowly. It’s not enough. It’s slow torture, it’s burning, it’s consuming me and I’m having trouble breathing. 

“Not enough, Matt. More. Please.” He rises up, pulls me off the counter and flips me around.

“I want you to watch me fuck you. I want you to see that no one else can make you feel this good. I want you to watch yourself come undone on my cock.” His words alone have my head spinning. He slowly enters me, bottoming out and my jaw drops.

“Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.” He says in between thrusts. “So. Fucking. Beautiful. All. Fucking. Mine.” He pulls my hair back exposing my neck. “Isn’t that right baby?” All I can do is nod.

“I’ll let that slide since I can see I’m fucking you speechless.” He growls into my ear. I can feel myself getting close, so close to the edge. He brings his hand forward, slowly circling my clit, too slow.

“Matt. Faster please.” I plead. He picks up his pace, both his fingers and his hips. His other hand covers my mouth, sensing what’s going to happen. I hit my high, squeezing my eyes close, my mouth dropping open behind his hand, silently screaming. He grunts and I feel him dripping down my thighs. Were both panting, sweaty, and shaking. I let out a soft laugh, rubbing my hands over my face, shaking my head back and forth. 

“Wha-” I begin but he cuts me off with a kiss. 

“No. Don’t start over thinking. I’ve wanted to do that for months. Hell, years. I can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else.”

“Last night, when you were talking to that girl. I couldn’t fucking see straight. Matt, I fucked that guy last because he looked like you. And I hated myself this morning. I didn’t even want to speak about it.” I start spilling the truth.

“I felt the same. When you left with Theo” He spits his name out. I smile softly at him. “And I swear it. I didn’t mean anything I said. I was jealous and mad and out of my mind. And I will never stop apologizing.”

“I know” I kiss his collarbone. “I know.”

“I mean it. No one else touches you.”

“No one else.” I nod, now unable to control my smile, him mirroring the same back. I go to grab toilet paper to wipe between my thighs.

“No. Leave it.” I raise an eyebrow. “It’s hot” He shrugs and I blush. “No need to get all shy on me when I fucked you stupid against the counter not even two minutes ago.” I shove him gently back, going to grab my clothes. He grabs the shirt and throws it in the trash. “Do not put that fucking thing on.” He tosses me his shirt and pajama pants, ducking into his room to grab new clothes. I stay in the bathroom as he slides back in, running his hand through my hair.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grins, “Can’t get enough. Now let’s get back out there.” He slaps my ass gently, pushing me through the door.

As soon as I’m in eyeshot of the three on the couch Madison’s eyes go wide, Nick’s jaw drops and Chris has the biggest smile on his face.

“Fucking finally!” He screams. “Holy shit, ow Chris, now you’re killing my head” Nick slaps him. The whole room erupts into laughter as Matt and I plop on the couch, his arm laying around my shoulders. And it’s then that I know, we’ve fallen head over fucking heels.

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus and Silver 4 (2–1)

Summary: You wait for Silver to come and save you from this thorny situation. You doze off and wake up to him having an epic battle with Malleus.

(Hopefully the numbers aren't all that confusing. This is the 4th drabble I've written about Malleus and Silver, and this is a continuation of the Malleus and Silver 2 drabble. I think this is how I'll be doing continuations and sequels.)

You laid back down as soon as your phone call with Silver ended. The way he spoke to you sounded rather enthusiastic. Well, not exactly the right word, more… happy? Well, either way, it seems this situation you find yourself in has Silver looking forward to taking care of this. Like he's had tools sitting in the back of his house, collecting dust and now he gets to bust them out. You'll admit, you understand the feeling.

A practically florescent green caught the corner of your eye. Looking over, you saw Malleus's head just barely peeking over your window, thorns parting only enough to accommodate him. Reminded you of a cat that knows you forgot to feed it.

"You gonna let me out anytime soon?" you asked, propping your head up with a pillow.

There was only a huff and the light of green fire lighting up just below Malleus's chin. The shadows dancing on his small face only made him look angrier. He turned and crawled away.

"That's a no then."

Briefly, because you know Silver doesn't exactly live the closest to you, you dozed off. You had a dream, for a moment, probably something fairytale-like but it was over so quickly that it slipped from you. You woke up to the sound of an odd… thwacking sound? It sounded like wood hitting against plastic.

Getting up, you noticed the thorns once curling your window shut have parted. You went over and opened it, finding you have a perfect view of Silver caught in a battle with the very small, very aggressive Malleus. Via one big wooden sword and one tiny one.

What?

"Silver?" you yelled, "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Silver looked up, then ducked down just as Malleus swooped in, missing his strike at his forehead. "Oh! I'm battling Malleus!"

"Yeah, but why?"

"I need to tire him out!" Silver didn't swing his wooden sword, he simply positioned them to block Malleus's own onslaught of attacks. The little critter blew his green fire, but Silver's fake sword merely sparkled as it reflected the flames. "It won't take long, I promise!"

You shrugged and leaned your weight against the window sill. "Alright then."

And, true to his word, it didn't long at all. Malleus soon flopped over on the nearest branch, dropping his tiny sword and mouth falling open as he panted. Mighty magical creature he may be, he's still bound by his small body's limitations.

Though, to be fair, Silver looked quite tired out himself. He was leaning most of his weight against his fake sword.

"Did you make that fake sword for Malleus?" you asked, because you're genuinely curious. Him fighting with a sword was more Silver's thing than Malleus. It's weird. Off. Malleus summoning a boulder to crush Silver with was more suiting.

"Yeah, I did." Silver poured water over his head, enjoying the breeze that came to cool him off. He wiped the extra water off his brow. "I made one for Lilia, then Sebek, and then Malleus got jealous when I didn't make him one. So I did."

Ah, yeah that makes sense. Malleus would feel left out and, from what you can tell, he hates that feeling more than anything. The evidence is right there, surrounding your house.

"I'm surprised he decided to fight you with that sword." With how angry and huffy he was, you figured he'd be pulling all the stops and trying to keep everyone away.

"Well, he doesn't really want to hurt me, so he probably wanted to fight on equal ground," Silver walked over to the wheelbarrow he brought over, placing his fake sword, and pulling out a silver axe. "Either way, he knows the dragon has been defeated. And soon he'll wake up to some nice ice cream."

"Ha, that's pretty nice of you, Silver." You pushed yourself up, getting ready to go downstairs to help Silver out.

"You want a treat too?" Silver rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, getting ready to use the axe against the thorns. "I'll buy whatever you want."

"Can't say no to that." Ever the spoiler, that Silver. Anyways… "Hey. Wouldn't it be easier if you had those expensive wood saws, or something? An axe is going to take a long time."

Those thorns are pretty thick from what you can tell.

"I don't want to scare the little lord with all those noises. That and when he's being really fussy, he tends to break them. And I don't have the money to replace them one after the other."

"Ah, yeah that makes sense. Well, keep doing what you're doing."

"Don't worry. I'll get you out in less then an hour."

"Don't push yourself Silver. Can't have you collapsing now."

[rydiathesummoner]

Rating FFXVI characters based on how badass they were when they died*

*the official status from Square Enix for three of the characters is "it's up to the player's interpretation" but for the purpose of this post obviously I'm rating as if they died.

Spoilers start here!

Elwin 4/10

It's always a bit badass to die saving your kid. So he gets some points there. And he didn't go out crying about how he was betrayed. That said, he was REALLY caught off guard by Head Chopper, and as the ruler of a nation and the spouse of a conniving bitch I expected more from him.

The Bastards 7/10

Squashed by Boulder Dude gets lots of points for the memorable epic scream. Axe Dude here gets points for getting murdered without messing up his hair. Now THAT's talent. Tiamat gets no points. He was easily beaten by his subordinate, plus he was given a chance to escape his position and he chose to remain loyal to Sanbreque. Like bro. That was your chance. So many people died in that battle. You could have just vanished. Did anybody go looking for Clive after he vanished? No! You died Sanbreque's loyal little bitch.

Benedikta 9/10

Benedikta went out like a champ. An absolute badass. She didn't even flinch at the previously unknown Eikon of Fire, she just took one look and was like "ok yeah sure I''ll kick this one's ass too." Girl regrew limbs and stood on Ifrit's face. She showed the player how scary eikons are. I'd give her a 10/10, but she threw my dog.

Cid 10/10

Cid destroyed a mothercrystal, got stabbed by an interdimensional monster, STOOD BACK UP to stab Ultima in the neck, then spent his last moments giving Clive a heartwarming and encouraging speech. He went out on his own terms, despite being a dominant. Bravo Cid 🫡

Imreann 0/10

Just look at this asshole. He genuinely thought Jill wouldn't kill him. His last moments were spent like "Wait, why is the girl I horribly mistreated killing me? That's not fair!" I considered giving him a pity point because Jill's badassery is awesome in this scene, but nah.

Hugo 4/10

The fight was a 10/10, but his death was too quick after that to really show any badassery. He used up everything he had to fight Clive, which I'll give him points for. But just turning instantly to stone like that... I dunno, he just seems pretty 'armless.

Sylvestre 6/10

Again, giving points here for dying to protect your kid. Even if your kid is a possessed monster from a conniving bitch. I gave him an extra point for running even though he needs a cane. And another because I'm pretty sure he figured out he was a dumbass all along in his last minutes.

Olivier 2/10

I'll give points for this death making me laugh. It wasn't a badass death at all, but I still clapped in my head.

Annabella 4/10

I hate this cunt so much. I wanted to kill her myself, but she stole that too. I'll give her points for the mystery of whether she actually thought Joshua was a demon or if she was just manipulating to the very end. Plus a point for trying to cut Joshua with her knife. If she really did think he was a demon, at least she tried to defend herself.

Barnabas 9/10

The fight was great. The crazy-man laugh was great. The best part though, is that he got one over the most overpowered person on the planet just by grabbing his ankle. Clive didn't even want Odin's power, but Barnabas was like "nope, you're slurping my powers whether you want to or not." I took off a point for his last words reminding the player of the scene of him cuddling his mom naked, ugh not the last thing I want to remember about the dude.

Dion 3/10

I gave him points because the "I ask not for acceptance but for forgiveness" part was cool, but everything else about this death was stupid. He's still babbling about his worthless father. He doesn't even mention the one person genuinely in his corner. He's badass the rest of the game, so his Suicide by Demigod death is incredibly stupid. Look, I've spent way too much time in the past in a therapist's chair ticking The Bad Boxes so I really, really understand the mental state. But that doesn't change the fact that killing yourself over something you didn't have control over is stupid. It would have been far more badass if he managed to find a way to live with himself, because that's far harder than offing yourself.

Joshua 10/10

Joshua was frail and weak, but he really powered through until the end. His dedication was admirable. He gave it his all, including his Phoenix powers. His last speech to Clive was so sweet, and it really showed his faith in Clive to do what was right for the world.

Ultima 7/10

The fight was great. But the sheer pettiness here won me over. Clive won fair and square, and Ultima is STILL getting his digs in, right up to the last second. His last words are pure snark. Maybe that's not very badass, but I can at least respect it.

Clive 9/10

I respect his ability to swim/float to the beach after that last fight. That's badass. I only took a point off because he didn't drag himself very far onto the beach. His body may be in trouble when the tide comes in. It's nice that his last moments are thinking of the ones he loved. But most impressive of all is that despite JUST dragging himself out of the water, his hair looks like he just stepped out of the salon. Like, damn. Nobody will ever top that ability. No man can compete with that.

[least-evil-resident]

medieval resident evil au where Umbrella is a cabal of dark mages trying to unlock the secrets to lichdom and go mad learning secrets from the undead eldritch horror outside of space and time

Chris and Jill are Knights in service of the Order of Stars, Leon is a beginning town guard, Ada is still a spy, honestly not much is different

If you give them ttrpg character sheets then it's even more fun

Would guns be wands, badass Crossbows, or straight up magic, or different based on the game? They could also just be guns but that wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

Consider pistol=dagger, rifle=longsword, shotgun=axe? Grenades could be hand bombs or magic.

Or pistol=hand crossbow, rifle=light crossbow, shotgun is either special bolt or a spell

Beneath the cobblestone streets of raccoon city, where gaslamps and auto-carriages ramble, is the lair of an evil sect of mages developing spells in secret to transform humans into beasts

Could be very bloodborne-esque. Lots of fire and brimstone. Maybe STARS are more like paladins, and the bsaa is an order of Templar type organization.

If we go dnd 5e rules, Chris is a fighter for sure, Jill is like a rogue I guess? Leon could go either. It could be fun to make Claire like a sorcerer since she gets the grenade launcher

In later games I think Chris definitely fits either paladin or barbarian, where Leon goes for more rogue/maybe ranger vibes. Jill seems more rogue+fighter but magic rogue is cool, maybe artificer. Claire would be sorcerer multiclass I think. Keep any mages low powered that way.

Sherry in 6 is maybe warlock or aasimar instead of Cleric? Blood hunter would be cool. Rebecca starts as a Cleric in 0 for sure. For a low magic setting where research and Rituals are matched by quick, small combat spells, how high of a DC do you think enemies would go?

Of course, in a classless system like gurps or all flesh, this would be a lot less restrictive. What would be the best system for resident evil normally? What would be the best one for its fantasy au?

Wesker very much fits the low-fantasy vampire theme. He has a reflection and can step in he sunlight but wow it hurts his eyes. Chris rolls a 20 to punch a boulder to death.

Leon has the lucky feat or 20 in dex or something to pull off his stunts. Chris also gets Charisma as a leader for the bsaa, so paladin is up his alley. Leon's secret service requires more rogue skills, but his time in operation javier trains his skills as a Ranger under Krauser maybe?

Jill and Claire both get grenade launchers, but Jill is more Rogue with her lockpicking so it makes sense for them to switch level ups later on as claire learns more professional skills for rogue training.

Barry definitely hits fighter/barbarian with his heavy weapons. Jake is maybe more monk/barbarian but with something like a dhampir ancestry feature? Sheva is maybe rogue/fighter or paladin fighter since thats when chris starts taking paladin levels. Billy has to be rogue/fighter I think, or maybe fighter/rogue, if he even gets a second class. It would almost make sense for him to be pure rogue and rebecca be cure cleric, since she retires to become a researcher and hes never heard from again. Helena is I guess just plain rogue, hinting at her role in 6, while Leon has his ranger levels. Piers is more rogue/Ranger (or fighter archer). A lot of the one off teammates just don't get super interesting classes as a consequence of their limited appearance. Carlos... Fighter? Just fighter is fine.

Now, the problem here is that each game starts off with little to no equipment for various reasons. In the case of our spell casters like claire and jill, we can't just de-level them between adventures in the resident evil campaign. But we could give them more limited access to spell components to match the resource management of survival horror.

This is more complicated outside of dnd 5e, where a game like All Flesh Must Be Eaten has very different spellcasting rules, so you'd need to stray from a low-magic to a straight low-fantasy setting. Alchemist tools and one use spell scrolls replace your grenades and spell casting maybe? That's the issue you'd run into with treating the setting as one campaign instead of each game as an individual campaign though.

The easiest one to do is RE8. It's literally the same. Ethan starts 7 as a human Commoner, takes levels in artificer as the game goes on, since that one introduced crafting, and comes back very subtly as a human variant with a few new levels in fighter from chris' tutoring. Hey that means we can give Hiesenburg an artificer friend! Class buddies ♡ hiesenburg is probably artificer/sorcerer, giving him charisma and intelligence. Dimetrescu is maybe barbarian if she even gets class levels.

I don't think we can justifiably say Rose is a variant human, I think she gets her own custom ancestry features for this. Sorcerer also feels better than Druid for her, but a couple levels in - you guessed it, rogue! Cover her gun and Stealth skills. You get a lot or rogues and fighters in low powered/low fantasy settings, who knew lol

[theweirdestroller]

Rescue Bots in Jasper: Part 1

The first in a three part prequel to my one-shot, Storytime with Blades! @mfganonymous hates me for this one, so it's now specifically dedicated to them.

"Ugh. My parents are talking about more school when I get back to Japan. I don't think I'll want to go back," Miko banged her head against Bulkhead's pede. "What about you guys?"

"I'm actually really excited to go to university after I graduate! I've been looking into one outside of Nevada so I can see more of the states!" Raf chriped, barely looking up from his computer.

"My mom keeps dropping hints that I should look into community college," Jack sighed.

"Do bots have school?" Miko asked, staring up at the Cybertronians.

"Umm. I don't think there's an equivalent for us," Bulkhead scooped up his human.

"Says you." Ratchet involves himself in the conversation for once. "Cybertron had training, which in certain castes was much like human universities."

"So you went, Docbot?" Ratchet tsked.

"Of course I did. The medical caste-"

"What was it like?"

--

"C'mon Ratchet! We're gonna be late!" Blades was dragging the taller medic by his arm.

"I think you mean you're going to be late. I didn't get nomiated for the Rescue Program," Ratchet laughed.

"Same difference! I get to meet my team today!"

Blades and Ratchet joined the crowd gathered in the middle of Iacon. Many bots from all different castes were gathered, all waiting to be assigned to a Rescue team. A highly coveted and skilled achievement. Only the best of the best even qualified, and even then, it wasn't a grantee.

After much waiting, the anouncer called out for the last rescue team this vorn.

"The final rescue team of this season is Sigma 17. There will be four bots assigned. Specializes in space missions."

Blades let out a little whine. "I don't think I got in..." Ratchet set a hand on his roommate's shoulder.

"There's still four spots left. I'm rooting for you,"

"The fire response of Sigma 17 is- HEATWAVE!" A pale red bot stepped out of the crowd onto the stage.

Blades was shivering with nerves.

"The law enforcement of Sigma 17 is- CHASE!" A silver mech shakily stepped up, giving Heatwave a servoshake before going almost unnaturally still.

"The engineer of Sigma 17 is- BOULDER!" A green bot scampered onto the stage, greeting his new teammates.

"I didn't make it..." Blades sighed, leaning into Ratchet. Ratchet tugged his small friend closer.

"The medic of Sigma 17 is- BLADES!"

"W-what?!" Blades straightened and shook Ratchet's shoulder. "I made it." He grinned wide. "I made it!"

"Didn't doubt it for a second." Ratchet offered a soft smile and nudged his friend up. "Now go," Blades squeezed Ratchet's arm one last time and went to the stage.

Ratchet watched on as his roommate cheerily introduced himself to the rest of Sigma 17.

--

Ratchet didn't know that he'd end up as a field medic. He wasn't complaining. He'd done a lot of good for the Autobots and neutrals.But he was useless in this one instance. Completely and utterly useless.

Cybertron was dying, anyone could see that. With the death of the planet, any offworld Cybertronians returned to try and assist the planet. Rescue Bots. Bots like Blades and his team.

And the Decepticons were shooting them down like scraplets. It was a genocide.

An entire division of Cybertronians were gone in one fell swoop.

Ratchet was never going to see his bubbly orange friend again. The zippy, chatty little bot who liked to pop his wheels out of his pedes so he could wheel around everywhere. Blades was gone.

--

"As I said, it was much like your school. Homework, grades, stress, roommates, parties. Not unlike what Earth schools have."

"Cool! Wish I could see a 'bot school!" Miko cheered. "What parties did you even go to? Bet your roommate made ya go!" Ratchet huffed.

"It doesn't matter."

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Nine | Revealed

Chapter Nine | Revealed

Soren’s sleep was restless at best. He was never a deep sleeper, but over the years he’d learned to manage with his semi-broken sleep cycle. His work schedule also kept him on his toes. The mid-twenties man was more likely to be found napping than accepting a deep sleep. Rarely did he dream. Rarely did he feel fully rested. Between his younger brothers and his subconscious vigilance of the apartment they shared, Soren had honed his mind and body to accept the rest it received.

Last night was no different.

Soren woke up a few times throughout the night, believing he was hearing voices or the creak of a step down the hall. Once, he actually pushed himself out of bed and poked his head into his brothers’ room to find them both asleep soundly. Some of their stuff from their bottom drawer was on the floor, but otherwise neither or them stirred.

One thing was certain though – something was off. Soren always had a sixth sense about him. It wasn’t something that he could describe or define. It was like something in the back of his mind told him – warned him – that something was off. This sense served him well as a fire fighter, and as an older brother.

With it being four in the morning, Soren decided to ask the boys about it the moment they were awake. They would be up and about in a few hours anyway. He padded back through the apartment without making a sound and slipped back into his own bed, relishing the cool sheets and the solitude he finally regained after days of sick brothers interrupting his already broken sleep.

He did it lovingly – willingly – but it didn’t stop him from enjoying those few peaceful moments he had to himself.

I’ll just talk to them in the morning. Don’t worry about it. Maybe they had a nightmare or don’t want me to know they got sick in the middle of the night or something. Can’t be anything crazy, right?

~~~^*^*^~~~

“Soren? Soren? Are you awake?

It felt like he’d barely closed his eyes before he began hearing the gentle, plushy voice of his youngest brother. His hot little hands grabbed onto Soren’s arm, that much he was sure of. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know which brother was currently grabbing his wrist.

Soren pried his groggy eyes open. He immediately spotted both boys standing in his room and, in an instant, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It was his sixth sense. One look and he knew that something was off. The boys knew something and now were here to tell him. Whether it was a confession of guilt, a case of tattling, or simply a desire to hang out with him, the oldest brother didn’t know.

What he did know was that he needed to be alert and aware for whatever these two had in store for him. Out of habit, Soren glanced down by their hands to see if there were pillows in their hands. They’d ambushed him before with a surprise pillow fight on multiple occasions.

Nothing.

He stifled a yawn and pushed himself up out of bed, blankets tumbling off of him like moss from a tumbling boulder. The realization that he’d taken off his shirt in the middle of the night only hit him now, and he quickly grabbed the crumpled cloth from beside his pillow and slipped it over his head.

“Okay you two, what is it?” he asked. Both boys shared a glance, telling Soren this was probably some kind of confession which both of them were guilty of, before looking back at their oldest sibling. Then, like one would see in a cartoon, both boys began speaking in tandem, bouncing off of one another’s phrases as if rehearsed.

“Um… okay. So… last night something super duper weird happened,” Dorian started explaining.

“Yeah! Super weird,” chimed in Rey.

“And we didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“Well, Dorian didn’t.”

“Anyway, we found something in our room last night.”

“Someone you mean.”

“And…”

Soren’s blood ran cold and all other words lost their meaning.

“Wait, someone was in your room last night?” Soren immediately bristled and glanced around for the key to his drawer. If there was an intruder in their home, they were about the pay dearly for it.

“No! No. Dorian, you’re explaining it wrong,” Rey chastised, but stopped abruptly when Soren shot him a warning look to keep explaining. “Okay, well. I heard something last night in our room and, when I looked, there was a girl standing on the bedside table. She sounded sick and almost fell off of the dresser, but Dorian caught her, but he might’ve broken her arm.”

“Not on purpose!” Dorian interjected. “She was falling and I just grabbed her arm so she didn’t fall.”

“And you wouldn’t believe it! She’s like, this big!” Rey indicated with his hands that the size of this so-called girl was about as tall as Rey’s hand. Soren was starting to question whether this was real or part of a dream when the two boys, like playful kittens, began prancing back toward their room and motioning for Soren to follow.

“Come on! We need to fix her,” Dorian said.

“Yeah! Soren made us better, and he can fix her too,” added Rey.

Soren sighed and wondered again if this was just part of some elaborate dream, but then he remembered something. When Soren poked his head into the boys’ room the night before, their drawer had been turned out and all of its contents were on the floor.

There’s… there’s no way… right?

Soren found himself cautiously following behind his brothers as they flanked their bedside table. Both looked eager and concerned at their sibling, glancing between him and the drawer. The padding of Soren’s bare feet on the ground suddenly felt like an avalanche, and every hair on the back of Soren’s neck was standing on end.

He didn’t need to look into the drawer to know something was in there – and it was alive.

He steeled himself before kneeling in front of the drawer and glancing at both boys, whose eyes begged him to see what they had discovered. Sixth sense sounding alarms in the back of his head, Soren grabbed the knobs and gingerly pulled out the drawer as slowly and carefully as possible.

What he saw made his thumping heart skip like a stone across the water. His breath hitched and every thought except for one silenced itself.

She’s real.

Sure enough, the boys were not victims of their own imaginations. There was indeed someone in their room, and she was maybe four or so inches tall. Messy brown hair in a bun. Blue-gray eyes blown wide with fear. Arm clutched to her chest and features gaunt and sickly.

She looked at him, and he looked at her. There was no doubt in Soren’s mind that she possessed sentient intelligence; but, based on the way she let her eyes glaze over and drift away from him, Soren intuited she was obviously terrified and trying to keep a low profile. Soren’s keen gaze picked up on the subtle way her breathing came in nervous, shallow breaths and the way her eyes darted around now that they weren’t looking at one another.

Holy smokes… she’s terrified. And she’s been in here all night?! Soren took a breath to calm his frustration and anger, forcing himself to remember his brothers were so much younger than him and, despite their mature moments, were still children with kid logic. They’re seven and eight. They’re seven and eight. They should know better, but they’re seven and eight. Maybe I should’ve gotten them a guinea pig to take care of. Okay okay okay… Take a breath. We need to make this right.

Soren glanced at the faces of his brothers before looking back at the small woman and realizing the monumental task in front of them.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Ashlynn couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep. Panic. Illness. Pain. Confined and contained in the care of two small human boys and their dad who would undoubtedly locker her into a cage the moment he was awake.

Everything should’ve been enough to keep her awake.

I must’ve been more exhausted than I thought, Ashlynn thought silently. She’d hoped that she would rest for a short time before getting up and trying to make some kind of escape plan. Sadly, that didn’t happen. Fragments of what happened the night before kept her body rigid and heart hammering a hole through her ribs. She added it to the list of things that were currently hurting.

Even though her ears felt clogged like she was under water, she tried listening to what was going on outside of the wooden prison she was confined in. Being in darkness let her eyes adjust to see the thin sliver of light along the top of the drawer, but it just that – a sliver. It wasn’t even enough to slip her fingers into, and she certainly tried with her one good arm.

I’m not making it out of here. I can’t. Not with this arm. Not like this.

Ashlynn felt emotion welling up in her throat. The hopelessness she’d managed to suppress the night before started to constrict her lung and salty tears pricked her eyes. It was by instinct alone that she discerned the thumping of feet against the ground followed by one set of much louder footsteps.

No. No. No. No! Now?

Ashlynn stumbled over the cup of water back onto the folded socks she’d used as a bed and huddled as close as she could to the grain of the wood. Never in her life had she wished more to be invisible, blending perfectly with her surroundings. Nothing could stop the sound of those footsteps coming toward her. It was like the deep chime of a church bell, tolling for her and her alone.

When the sound of the footsteps stopped, Ashlynn had only one breathless moment to steel her resolve to not talk to the humans. It was the last and only rule she could hope to adhere to now that she was caught.

The drawer sounded like the roar of tires above her head, making it throb harder, as it was pulled open. The sudden flooding of light made her wince and instinctually look up.

That was a mistake.

The moment she looked up, she was instantly captured by the pools of golden hazel eyes staring back at her. Even from this distance, she could make out every detail of Soren’s face. The slight bit of morning shadow on his cheeks and chin. The flecks of light brown mixed in with his dark brown hair. Not even her blurring vision could stop her from noticing the way his eyes widened and pulse quicken as he stared at her.

Holy smokes! What do I do? What do I do? I messed up! I messed up! I shouldn’t have looked at him! He’ll know I can understand. He’ll suspect it immediately! I have to do something. Look away! But slowly.

Ashlynn let her vision blur as she listlessly let her eyes drift away and down from the enormous human man crouching mere feet from her. She hoped it would be enough, but somehow knew it already wasn’t. Her breathing shallowed. Her ribs ached from the constant thrum of her heart.

All she could register was her own breathing for several painfully quiet seconds. Why aren’t they saying anything? Why isn’t he saying anything? This is torture. Just do something already! Grab me. Shut me in here. Leave me alone. Say something. Anything! Don’t just stare!

The silent pleas somehow spread through the air, saturating it with tension, as Soren cleared his throat and leaned away ever so slightly from the opening of the drawer.

“You two found her?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, on the nightstand,” Dorian replied.

“Technically I saw her first,” Rey pointed out.

“Yeah, but I saved her from falling off of the edge,” retorted Dorian.

“Yeah, and probably broke her arm too,” argued Rey, who looked toward Soren. “When Dorian grabbed her arm, there was a little ‘pop’ and she screamed.”

No! Please! Don’t tell him that! Did I really scream? They know… they know I can make sounds. They’ll put together I can talk in seconds! Tears began to burn Ashlynn’s eyes, but only a single tear formed enough to roll down her cheek.

When she heard Soren sigh, a pit in her stomach began to churn and threaten to make her vomit again, but she couldn’t have predicted what the older human was going to say next.

“Guys, you should’ve come to get me,” said Soren, voice obviously measured as he looked between the two younger kids.

“But, we didn’t want you to get sick. You were tired and…” Soren held up a finger and, immediately, Dorian stopped with his explanation.

“Guys, this isn’t just some cute little mouse that you want to help. This is a person. A real person, and she deserves to be treated like one,” Soren scolded. It was obvious he was keeping his tone even and calm, though his words instantly cut the boys to the quick. “She’s obviously not feeling well and now she’s hurt. She’s been suffering all night when we could’ve been helping her.”

Ashlynn felt her jaw dropping as she watched the boys’ shoulders slump and heads hang. The words Soren was using – she, real person, suffering – almost made her believe that he was actually seeing her like one of them – a human.

That… wait… what? He’s… talking about me like… I’m not different than them. No! It’s a trick! It has to be!

“But…”

“No buts, Dorian. And none from you either Rey. Think about it for a second. If you were small like her and you were sick and hurt, how would it make you feel to be shoved in a drawer all night long?” asked Soren. He glanced from brother to brother and noticed their eyes glossing over. They were obviously upset, both at Soren’s scolding and with themselves.

“We… we gave her food and water,” sniffled Dorian.

“And that’s all well and good, but she’s also sick and hurt. Every minute we wait to fix her arm could be causing more damage if it really is broken. What if she can’t use her arm because we didn’t get it mended in time?” asked Soren.

Excuse me… what?! Is that… Is that actually a thing? Ashlynn clutched her pulsing arm closer, noticing how it twinged and ached more than last time. She began trying to clench her fist and found it more difficult than before. The aching intensified into a tingling, jabbing pain. She was so focused on evaluating her own arm that Ashlynn didn’t notice how Soren’s eyes flicked past his brothers and down to her, catching a glimpse of her reaction.

Soren couldn’t think about the small person’s movements now. He needed to finish talking to his brothers and then start working on their hand sized house guest.

“Guys, I know your hearts were in the right place, but you can always come get me. If you’re getting sick, come to me. If you feel scared from a dream, come get me. If you find someone the size of your hand in your rooms, come get me. That’s what I’m here for, okay? It will never bother me,” said Soren.

Both Dorian and Rey wiped their eyes with the back of their hands, chapped noses turning red and running ever so slightly. Ashlynn couldn’t believe what was happening. The boys, with a few stern words and some simple examples, were beginning to cry.

“I’m sorry Soren,” muttered Rey.

“I’m so… sorry too,” Dorian sniffled. “I thought we were doing the right thing. I d-didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Yeah, me too. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m not the one who you should be saying sorry to, but thank you. Now, I need to see what I can do for our little friend here. In the meantime, you two need to think about a proper apology for her. Okay?” asked Soren. The two boys nodded, their pale blue eyes glancing back at Ashlynn, which made her curl in on herself. She wasn’t sure, but her body was shaking either from the sickness or nerves.

“Now, let me grab the drawer here and then I’ll be in the kitchen in a bit. Okay?” stated Soren. The boys parted, giving Soren enough room to grab either side of the drawer. Ashlynn watched as looming arms cast shadows long and wide across the base of the wooden box and over her. There was a massive jostle from all sides and, with one swift and nauseating motion, Soren had removed the drawer from the bedside table and had stood with it.

Ashlynn didn’t need to see out of the box to feel the thunderous footsteps all around her as the box she was in was carried from one room to the next. The subtle swaying was enough to make her nausea choke the back of her throat to the point where Ashlynn forced herself to stifle the gagging she so desperately needed. She couldn’t see where they were going. She didn’t want to know. All she wanted now was to run back to the walls and hide.

She curled in on herself, unaware that the drawer she was in had stopped moving, as her vision blurred, lids heavy with exhaustion. The thought of eating and drinking had lost all appeal, and it felt like there was no adrenaline was left in her system to jumpstart any movement. Escape seemed like a distant desire, leaving her with the one hope that she’d be left alone to tend to her arm.

No discernable thought made its way to the surface until she heard Soren say, “Hey there, little miss. You’re going to be okay.” It was involuntary, but Ashlynn’s eyes had opened and flicked up to Soren with a flash of indignation before she could even stop herself. The human man’s eyes filled with a mixture of hurt, surprise, and yet understanding at the same time. As if she’d said something, he continued.

“I know. It seems hard to believe, but I promise I’ll keep you safe. Now, first things first, I need to get some stuff to take a look at that arm. The boys said they thought you might be hurt, so we’ll take care of that. Okay?” asked Soren.

No. Not okay. Just leave me alone. Haven’t you three done enough?

The floor creaked, making Ashlynn look up as she began to embrace her fate when, to her surprise, Soren turned and walked away out of sight and out of the room. For several seconds, Ashlynn stayed curled in a ball on her makeshift cot made of socks while she listened for the human man to return with whatever he was going to retrieve. Then, a thought occurred to her.

If he comes back with a cage or something else to keep me here, I’m not getting out of here. I need to get out of here. Maybe my arm isn’t as bad as I think. Maybe it’s just bruised and he’s playing it up. Ashlynn doubted her own inner monologue, but she kept going. I need to get out of here. Right now, I need to leave. If it’s the last thing I do, I need to go out fighting. What would my parents think? What would my… brother… think?

Ashlynn clenched her jaw and, summoning what little energy she still possessed, shoved her body to its feet.

I’m a Borrower, not some pet; and I am getting out of here.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

Previous

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[noblehouseofgay]

Marauders x avatar (au idea)

Loooong ass post but it's so worth it

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Blacks are a powerful firebending family. One of the most powerful actually. Orion is obviously firelord. Sirius and regulus have a healthier zuko and azula dynamic. They obviously keep their own personality, but I think regulus is more like zuko and sirius is more like azula personality wise, action wise it's the other way around. But they kind of mix and match. I think alphard and Andromeda are the Irohs of the family

I think sirius got banished (zuko) and regulus stayed back being the perfect child (azula). And sirius went to find alphard and Andromeda for help (iroh). Down the line tho I think regulus finally leaves and goes to his brother and his new friends to help them (zuko). So like I said, they trade off.

Tho since sirius has Andromeda and alphard, regulus has narcissa. Bellatrix is essentially azula tho character wise. So they're all kind of just sharing the characters around. But you see the vision. Bella and sirius are the more reckless unhinged sibling, regulus and narcissa are the more quiet and calculated sibling.

The Potters are a water tribe. James is obviously sokka (spreading both my zukka and jegulus agenda).

I think remus would make a good earth bender. And it would be an easy way for him to have scars. Plus- disabled remus (maybe not blind, but still)!! Marlene has major toph energy so she's earth as well

Pandora is an air bender. No explanation needed. And since they're siblings, Evan is also an air bender. Twin avatars maybe 👀??

Dorcas and barty live in the fire nation. Easy way to make them best friends with reg. Dorcas gives mai energy 100%.

But if barty wasn't a fire bender he'd be earth bender, another one with toph energy. He would also love throwing rocks.

Yk actually, earth bender works well for barty bc of his dad. His dad would definitely be in thr group trying to hide the war from the earth kingdom, and all barty wants to do is fight back against him. So barty could go either way

Lily isn't a bender, but she lives in the earth kingdom. Other non benders would be mary and Peter. Peter lives with the water tribe (potters), mary lives in the earth kingdom

Lily c o u l d be a water bender instead, filling in as the katara. Bc I like james and Lily being more like siblings than anything

Bonus content:

- lily meeting an ethereal air bender and falling so hard

- fire x water zukka/jegulus!!!!!!

- sirius and remus having a petty rivalry going on at first (ysuft vibes)

- Remus and Lily (toph and katara) bonding

- barty thinking Evans air bender tattoos are super fucking cool

- pandora being the first to want to trust regulus, even if the rest of the group isn't as trusting yet

- for the play episode, remus gets the "the scars NOT ON THE WRONG SIDE" line

- Regulus gets "don't see the family resemblance?" line

- lily with healing abilities <3

- painted lady lily!!

- blue spirit regulus!!

- instead of the blind bandit, remus could be the scarred bandit

- remus "sounds to me like you're scared boulder" lupin

- pandora "I laugh at gravity all the time" rosier

- pandora teaching all the sheltered fire kids how to dance <33

[fierykitten2]

Another Metalhead Paradox Pokémon vs Stellar Tera type Metalhead/Punk Paradox Pokémon battle only this time it’s between two robots rather than a dinosaur and a robot

[fruitsoxs]

Soxs, your writing rocks. May I have just some good ol’ fashion fluff with Vash. Just want the boy to know he’s worth it.

is this fluff??

5 Times you Kiss Him, and One Time he Kisses You

pairing; vash x (GN) reader warning; dressing wounds, pure fluff I think, church at the end notes; i needed some fluff aha

1) Kissing his wound

“Stop moving.” You chastise as you wrap a bandage around his arm slowly. He lets out a small whine and tries his best to freeze, but within moments he is wiggling again. You sigh and lean back looking up at him. “I can’t do this if you keep wiggling around like that Vash.” You tell him, pressing a firm hand on his shoulder to still the anxious man.

He had gotten a bit hurt during the latest shoot out, and of course had tried to hide it. You’re not sure you would have ever found out if you hadn’t walked in on him trying to clean his own wound. At first, your eyes were drawn to the scars that lined his bare abdomen. You had never seen him without his shirt on before, so this was a new sight. But, your gaze narrowed on the wound dripping blood down his arm.  When he noticed you there he froze, a guilty smile on his face. 

You of course had to sit down and help.

He pouts and nods. “It just…it’s not a big deal. I can do this myself, you know!” He tells you for the third time that night. You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Vash I saw you struggling to clean it on your own- I’m not gonna let you do a bad job and get infected.” You shush him, getting back to work. Your hands wrap the bandage around his upper arm, careful not to hurt him.

He watches you with a small frown. “I’m okay.” he says after a moment of silence. “Really.” He tries to assure you. You huff and tilt your head to look up at him. “How many times have you gotten hurt and hid it like this?” You ask, ignoring his reassurance. He looks down at you with that same guilty look, then away as if he can’t handle what he’s about to say. “A few times.”

You push down the anger that bubbles up inside of you and finish wrapping up his arm. He goes to pull away, but you stop him. You gently pull him closer and place a small peck right above the place you wrapped. His eyes widen, and his face flushed red. 

“Stop doing that. Okay? I know you’re okay, but I want to help. You matter to me Vash.”. 

2) On his hand

Your fingers trail down the cool metal of his arm, circling the robotic limb as you sit there next to the fire. Vash hums happily and flexes his fingers. His arm rests so comfortably on your lap as you use it to soothe yourself. 

It had been a weirdly stressful day. You had been run out of one town, then the next as you two searched for a place to stay. Finding no luck, you were forced to set up camp behind a random large boulder. Vash is pretty use to sleeping under the stars, but he wanted to get you somewhere nice to sleep for once. It seems luck wasn’t on his side though.

You were stressed after being chased around all day. Running from one spot to the next,  worries that Vash may end up getting captured again. It felt like the bounty hunters were specifically ruthless that day, throwing everything they had at the two of you. Somehow, both of you made it out just fine.

Once the two of you were settled, you had grabbed his arm without a word and started tracing the patterns in it. He allowed you, not even tensing up at the touch. He has gotten use to you needing small things like this to calm your nerves. You often take a hold of his hands, metal and non-metal- to just hold when things get rough. He’s okay with it. He enjoys it. It calms him down too.

You trace your finger down to his own, and lift his hand up. Curiously, you press the metal against your lips and kiss it softly. He looks over at you, and tilts his head. “What are you doing?” he asks, but makes no movement to pull away. You shrug and drop his hand back into your lap. “Just…looking.”

You’re not sure if he felt it  or not, but you figure he won’t bring up the kiss unless you do. 

3) The top of his head

He’s upset.

You know he’s upset, but he won’t cry. He never cries

After stopping for a second in a random small town, Vash once again was spotted by the wrong sorts of people. They started shooting right away, bullets hitting the wall behind you two. It was a tiresome battle, one that was only won thanks to Vash’s insane skill at diffusing situations non-violently. Sadly… there were a few casualties of innocent by-standers. 

He left the village as a woman screamed at him for causing her husband’s death. You have never seen him look so down before, with his usual bright eyes so dim the light looked gone completely. When you tried to talk to him, he just shook you off saying that you must continue going. 

Now, at a random inn, you can see him still up. Staring out the window into the night sky. His silhouette against the stars. You sit up and call out his name, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even turn to look at you. You get up out of the bed and slink over to him, putting a hand on his back. He pulls away from your touch silently.

“It’s not your fault.” you whisper watching his shoulders shake. He lets out a choked “Yes it was.” You frown and pull him into your chest, hugging him tightly. He tenses up, but soon lets himself relax into the hug. He wraps his arms around your waist from his sitting position, and shoves his face into you. You comb your hand through his messy hair and whisper comforting words down at him. 

“It’s not your fault.” you repeat over and over again until he’s forced to believe you. You don’t explain your reasoning, you just comfort him with those four words. He finally lets himself cry a bit, clutching onto you. 

When his body stops shaking, you lean down and press your lips to his head.  

4) His scars

Your lips trail down his jaw, ghosting down to his bare chest. He sucks in a breath and tries to pull you back up to face him. He doesn’t like when you go too far down, uncomfortable with how close you are to the bits of his body that he has deemed “ugly.” You stay firm though, glancing up at him softly.

“Vash. I think you’re beautiful.” you whisper, causing him to turn red. He doesn’t try to pull you away , but you can see that he’s uncomfortable. You don’t want to push him, but you also know it’s time for you to show him what you mean. “All of you is beautiful. Every inch.” You keep going.

You lean forward and press your lips against the scar on his  right shoulder softly.”This part of you.” you mumble before trailing down to the one on his chest that’s p[articularly bad. You wonder how he got it every time you see it. He stifles a breath. “And this part.” you murmur. Your lips ghost over every inch of his body, kissing every scar you can.

Each one you kiss you make sure to say “this part.” after, letting him know that you think every inch of him is perfect. You think his scars are what make him, well, him. Ans you truly do love him, even if you haven’t said it out loud yet. 

In the end he pulls you face up so you’re face to face. He smiles as he runs a hand through your hair, leaning forward so your forehead rests against his. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he appreciates you, and you hope he’s more comfortable with you in the future. 

5) His lips

With His forehead resting against yours you can’t help but say it. Suddenly. “I love you.” you mumble. His eyes go wide and he leans back to look at you. His hand slides down to your cheek and his mouth hangs open. “You…love me?” He asks. He looks shocked, but you can see in his eyes that he feels the same way. There's just something about him that makes his emotions so easy for you to read. 

You giggle and nod. You just kissed almost every inch of his body to show that you think he’s beautiful, and he’s asking you if you’re telling the truth? You lean forward and press your lips against his before pulling away with a nod. “I love you more than anything, Vash. More than the stars even.” You tell him before kissing him again. 

This time the kiss lasts much longer, as your lips move against each other’s with a new passion. You’ve kissed many times before, but never like this. Never so…lovingly. He rolls the two of you over, and lays above you as the kiss continues. His hand somehow makes it to the back of your head as he holds you in place. Once the kiss breaks, and you’re both panting, he smiles down at you.

“I love you too.”

Bonus, he kisses you

Your hands rest in his as he mumbles a vow in your ear. It’s just the two of you in some run down church, abandoned in the middle of an empty town. The place has been eroded away by time,  but it somehow still stands. The pews line up, leading to the two of you in front of the altar. Nobody else is there to witness the words you exchange, but it’s all right because nobody else matters.

The wind howls against the shattered windows as he speaks. His words travel down to your heart, and make your chest tighten. 

“I love you. Forever and always. I promise I will never leave your side.” he whispers to you, pulling you closer and closer. You smile at him through your tears and nod as he looks down at you with all the love he can muster. You repeat the words back, and suddenly he’s leaning down, pressing his lips against yours. Your tears mix with his as the two of you kiss. It’s not traditional in any sense, but you’re happy with it. He’s happy with it.

And in the next town you get to, he makes sure to buy you both gold bands.

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 24 - "Let's get you cleaned up."

| Blankets | Stitches | Bandages |

Characters: Lawrence, Marshall

Came out later than I was intending because I got a bpd diagnosis today lmao. Not what I was expecting but I guess that means just another oc to project all my issues on--

Didn't proofread because I'm exhausted lol. I know I probably got some medical inaccuracies, but I don't take my whump seriously enough anyway XD.

CW: Parental whumper, dangerous cuts, blood, stitches, stockholm syndrome, mild infantilization, platonic/non-sexual nudity

...

It was like every other day. Lawrence worked a lot and Marshall would keep himself entertained while he was gone.

He often went out to the yard to tend to the plants, drawing in the sketchbook Lawrence got him, and reading through his bookshelf. He reread some of them already, but he was going crazy without anything else to do.

He had always lived a solitary lifestyle, but this was a whole new level of isolation.

Even though Lawrence said to never go into the forest alone, he never said anything about the beach.

Lawrence had been gone since this morning. He usually left at ten, and then returned by five. And since Marshall was done his chores early, he had nothing better to do other than explore the beach.

The tide pools were always pretty to look at, and he liked finding interesting seashells to keep.

He made his way through the woods, wincing when sticks poked his skin. He eventually got out to the clearing of the coast. It was a gorgeous sight, as per usual. The sky was clear and the ocean sparkled, glittering beneath the sunlight. The waves crashed against the sand. Marshall always appreciated how peaceful it was out here, no one to disturb the stillness of the beach.

Marshall wandered down the shoreline, admiring the seagulls flying above him and the different kinds of shells he could collect. He picked out the prettiest ones, deciding he could make a bracelet out of them for fun.

He looked up from the sand to gaze at the ocean. It was so tranquil today. He loved how the salty air smelled, and the way the cool water felt against his bare feet.

He liked to swim every now and then, and sometimes Lawrence even swam with him. It wasn't very fun though, since Lawrence would freak out the entire time and make him promise not to go deeper than his waist.

He sighed at the thought of having to endure another lecture about safety when he got home.

Just as he was walking up the steep hill of rocks and large boulders, he tripped over the sharp edges of a rock and tumbled backwards, yelping as he skidded down the rocky slope. The grit dug into his palms and the exposed part of his knees.

Marshall laid on the sand, dazed and confused, trying to figure out what happened.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, glancing down at his hands. They were bleeding profusely, and so were his knees. His calves were cut up too. Some of them were small enough to be small scrapes, nothing that a bandaid and some ice couldn't fix. But some of the cuts were deeper and wider than others, and they burned like fire.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the overwhelming pain.

It was his fault for being clumsy, so he sucked it up and started cleaning himself up as best he could.

He picked the pebbles out of his knees and hands, gritting his teeth through it. It wasn't very effective, and he had to stop due to the blood coating his arms.

Marshall slowly made his way to the house, stopping every few minutes to take a breather.

He didn't want to get in blood in the house, but he needed to call Lawrence. He was told to only use the phone in case of emergencies, but he thought this counted as an emergency. He knew he was definitely going to get scolded later.

The scolding would definitely be worse if he didn't call him, so this was for the best.

He limped up to the front porch and swung the door open, wincing at the soreness in his muscles.

He quickly staggered inside and grabbed the home phone from the kitchen. He dialed Lawrence's number and waited impatiently for him to pick up. After a few rings, the line connected.

"Hi, Marsh! I'm sorry, but I'm kind of busy right now. Did something happen?" Lawrence asked. Marshall could hear the sounds of several people talking in the background, so he assumed he was at one of his production meetings.

"I, uh, kind of got hurt and I was wondering if you could come back."

"Hurt? What do you mean?"

He winced when he took a step, trying to ignore the sharp pain coursing through his body. "It's fine. I just scraped my knees and hands." Marshall wiped his tears, glancing down at one of his open wounds.

The biggest one was on his leg, right above his knee and still had blood pooling from it. He grabbed a napkin with his free hand to put over the cut. It was a miracle he wasn't having a panic attack.

"How badly?" Lawrence's tone was deadly serious.

"I don't know." Marshall cleared his throat, which had been feeling scratchy the past few minutes. "But it really hurts. There's blood everywhere, and I'm so sorry! I'll clean it up, I swear. I just thought you should know, and I couldn't get the bleeding to stop, so--"

"Just put pressure on it, I'll be home in thirty minutes! Can you hold on until then?!"

"It's fine, I'm not dying." Even if it felt and looked like it.

"Just wait there, okay?!" He heard frantic footsteps, and him yell something to likely one of his coworkers. "Stay on the line."

Marshall did so. He felt nauseous and his head was throbbing. He slumped down on the ground, biting his lip hard enough to break the skin.

The napkin was soaked with his blood now. He let out a small groan and wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. He tried thinking about other things to distract him from the pain.

A little sooner than thirty minutes later, Lawrence slammed open the front door, panting like he just ran a marathon. The first thing he spotted was the blood.

Marshall tried to get up and show him his injuries, but he wobbled and fell back, letting out a distressed noise.

Lawrence rushed over to him. He crouched in front of him, grabbing his wrist to examine his hands. "What happened?!" he demanded, inspecting each cut, and then moving up to his knee. He tried being as careful as possible when he peeled back the napkin, revealing the wound. His eyes widened in horror. "Shit." It was rare he cursed in front of him, so Marshall knew he was freaked out. "How did this happen?"

Marshall didn't meet his eyes. "I fell, it was stupid."

"It's fine. Everything's fine..." Lawrence's hands were shaking, a clear indicator he didn't believe his own words.

He rushed to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab the medical supplies, and then jogged back over to Marshall's side.

He started applying some disinfectant on his injuries, emitting a cry from the brunet. Lawrence cooed and rubbed his thigh soothingly. He dug into the med kit to pull out a suture kit. Marshall paled at the sight of it, immediately shaking his head.

"N-no, I don't need stitches. They'll be fine. It's just a few scratches." He tried pulling his leg back, but Lawrence firmly kept it in place.

"It's okay, just try to relax. I've done this before, and it'll be quick." Marshall remained skeptical but obeyed him. Lawrence pulled his leg into his lap and unwrapped the suture needle from its package, readying it against his skin.

Marshall wanted to ask for something to ease the pain, but he couldn't speak. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He could handle this. It was just a couple of stitches.

Marshall's bottom lip wobbled. It hurt so much. He hissed while Lawrence thread the needle through the cut. It only got worse once he tugged the string tight. He opened one of his eyes to see how many more were left.

The wound was extremely wide and long. Lawrence went on, his eyes not leaving his work for a second. It broke his heart each time Marshall would cry, but he persisted.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally tied the last stitch. He then put on some antibiotic ointment and covered it up with a bandage. He stood up to put the medical kit away. Marshall's entire leg was red from the blood, but it wasn't as swollen as he thought it would be.

Lawrence squatted beside him to wash out the other wounds, and then put bandaids over them. Marshall was scared more would need stitches, but after those, Lawrence deemed them unworthy of that.

Marshall put his weight on the blond, who scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up, buddy." Lawrence placed him on the closed toilet seat and lathered a sponge in water and soap. "Just gonna do a sponge-bath for now, okay? We can get you a bath in a few hours when we need to change your bandages. Now, arms up."

Marshall mindlessly obeyed, letting Lawrence pull the shirt off of him. He had a few growing bruises on his newly exposed skin, but no cuts.

"Why didn't you stay inside?"

"I was bored," Marshall admitted.

Lawrence scrubbed the dirt and dried blood from his skin. "There are plenty of things to do in this house. What were you doing outside anyway?"

If he weren't injured and on the verge of a breakdown, Lawrence would have definitely unleashed his full anger. "I went to the beach. It's comforting." Lawrence briefly paused, to which Marshall continued, "I fell down on that rocky hill-thing. You know the one I'm talking about, I think."

A long, disappointed sigh left Lawrence's mouth. "You're telling me, instead of climbing the actual path like a sane person, you decided to climb the rock mountain?" Marshall shrugged. "You can't do that again. It's dangerous. And you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry..." he mumbled. He leaned forward so Lawrence could clean his back and check for bruises. "You're acting surprisingly calm," Marshall joked weakly, in attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm keeping my composure, for your sake. This could have been a lot worse than just a few stitches. If you'd gotten tetanus, we would be in the hospital." He pulled back to look at Marshall. "You did get your tetanus shot, right?"

"I think so."

Lawrence's lips curled into a frown. "You think so?"

"I don't remember, okay?"

"Marshall..." He shook his head in disappointment. He retrieved some fresh clothing and helped him into it, putting him into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. "You're getting a tetanus shot tomorrow, no objections."

He really disliked when Lawrence talked down to him like a kid, but it was a nice reminder that someone cared about his wellbeing, even if he wasn't pleased. "Okay," he whispered.

Lawrence kissed his forehead and picked him back up, carrying him to the couch. He gingerly lowered him down, before grabbing a few pillows and blankets.

Marshall watched him spread the blankets across the couch. When he was satisfied, he gently tucked a pillow under his head, and then wrapped a fuzzy blanket around his thin frame.

"I'm going to make you something to eat, alright? Then I'll go clean up the mess."

Marshall didn't even realize there was a puddle of his own blood still in the kitchen until now. His lips quivered, and Lawrence pressed another kiss on his head, making his breathing even out again.

"Sorry I messed up your day."

Lawrence smiled sadly. "You didn't mess up my day, you could never. But we're going to have a conversation about listening to me. That's all you need to do, kiddo. If I tell you not to do something, it's because I have a good reason. I'm just trying to take care of you."

Marshall nodded, allowing Lawrence to leave. He was tired of getting into arguments with him about the 'listening' thing.

It wasn't worth it anymore. He'd never win.

He tried to get comfortable on the couch, but all he could think about was the gaping wound in his leg and the pounding headache that hadn't gone away.

Marshall allowed himself to be fed chicken noodle soup for lunch. He stayed laying on the sofa, trying to focus on the TV and the sound of Lawrence washing the dishes. He had just taken his medicine, so he hoped it would kick in soon and his body would start relaxing.

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. He tried wiping it away with his arm, but more just came out. It was humiliating, and he was ashamed of himself.

Lawrence's face softened when he saw his reddened eyes. He finished drying off the bowl and quickly crossed the room. He knelt beside him, stroking his hair away from his eyes. "Oh, honey, what's wrong?"

"I'm just stressed and in pain, 's all." He sniffled.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

He wiped his tears again. "Can you hug me? I just-- I don't like being alone right now."

Lawrence didn't hesitate for a second, shuffling onto the couch to hold him in his arms. He stroked his hair and spoke sweet nothings into his ear, occasionally planting kisses on his head. He'd never feel comfortable being vulnerable like this with any person. Even when he was an actual kid, his parents didn't show him this much affection.

He pulled back. "My poor baby," he crooned, squeezing his cheeks between his fingers. He pushed the brown locks of hair behind his ears. "Are you ready for a nap, kiddo? Or do you need more cuddles first?"

"Cuddles."

"Of course. C'mere, Marshie." He shifted around on the couch so Marshall could lay atop of him. Lawrence buried his nose in his hair and continued to stroke his head. Marshall clung to his sweater, drifting off to Lawrence's heartbeat.

[ancientcharm]

The tragic day of the Roman Empire

This is one of the letters that the writer Pliny the Younger, an eyewitness to the eruption of Vesuvius in the year 79, wrote to the historian Tacitus. In this letter he recounts in astonishing detail the tragedy as well as the death of his uncle Pliny the Elder.

Remember that there was an error in the translation of the date. Now we know it was October 24.

The ninth day before the Kalends of September (August 24), in the early afternoon, my mother drew to my uncle’s attention a cloud of unusual size and appearance. Its general appearance can best be expressed as being like an umbrella pine, for it rose to a great height on a sort of trunk and then split off into branches, I imagine because it was thrust upwards by the first blast then left unsupported as the pressure subsided, or else it was borne down by its own weight so that it spread out and gradually dispersed. My uncle hurried to the place steering his course straight for the danger zone. Ashes were already falling, hotter and thicker as the ships drew near, followed by bits of pumice and blackened stones, charred and cracked by the flames. For a moment my uncle wondered whether to turn back, but when the helmsman advised this, he refused and decided to go to Stabia, to the house of his friend Pomponianus. After his bath he lay down and dined; he was quite cheerful, or at any rate he pretended he was, which was no less courageous. Meanwhile on Vesuvius, in various places, very wide flames and high fires shone, whose brightness stood out in the darkness of the night. My uncle, to excuse his fear, said that they were bonfires made by fugitive peasants or abandoned villas that were burning. Then he went to sleep and indeed he slept soundly, for his snoring was heard by those who were on guard at the gate. But the courtyard through which the room was reached began to fill up with ashes and rocks in such a way that if they had stayed there, they would not have been able to get out.   He awoke and rejoined Pomponianus and the others who had been keeping watch. They debated whether they would stay under cover or if they went out into the open, for the building was shaking with frequent long tremors and its foundations seemed to shift from one side to the other. However, if they went out into the open, the rains of boulders were to be feared, although more bearable.  Having compared both dangers, the second solution was chosen: in my uncle this constituted the triumph of reason over reason, in others, fear over fear. They put pillows on their heads, fastened with rags, the only protection against what fell. Elsewhere it was already dawn; there was a night blacker and denser than all nights, broken only by torches and various lights.  My uncle thought it appropriate to go to the beach and see what possibilities there were in the sea, which was deserted and adverse. There he lay down on a canvas and asked for cool water, which he drank twice;The others were flee by the smell of sulfur, the precursor of the flames. My uncle rose to his feet with the support of two serfs, but immediately fell down because, I think, the hazy mist choked his breath and closed his trachea, which was very delicate. And the ashes came to Misenum, but at first sparsely. Behind us an ominous thick smoke, spreading over the earth like a flood, followed us. We had scarcely agreed what to do when we were enveloped in night. To be heard were only the shrill cries of women, the wailing of children, the shouting of men. But the darkness lightened, and then like smoke the cloud dissolved away. Everything appeared changed - covered by a thick layer of ashes like an abundant snowfall.  When it was daylight again, my uncle's body was found intact and just as he was dressed; he seemed asleep rather than dead.

These types of volcanic eruptions -explosive ones that expel pyroclastic flows instead of lava - are known as plinian eruptions after Pliny the Younger, the first in history to document this.

Pliny the Elder was a renowned writer and researcher of natural phenomena Pliny settled with his family in Misenum, on the Gulf of Naples, when Vespasian appointed him as commander of Roman navy.

[jenthebug]

I want to get out of the house. I have choices:

1. The cool mall in the Fire Department’s district: It’s a mall. It’s cool. There’s even a Round 1! It’s in the Fire Department’s district, so I could do some area familiarization. I could walk my mile, do some window shopping, get a little treat, and take the long way home.

2. The mountains: I could go to a little mountain town and walk a mile there, checking out the quaint shops and getting myself a little treat (I like little treats). It seems a little wasteful to drive 30-60 miles to walk one. But I need to get out and be around nature, right?

3. Boulder: I could wander Pearl St and get some delicious onigiri. But it’s gonna be 90 at lower elevations, so I’d have to go very soon, or much later.

What do you think?

[turtlesmog]

sokka had fallen--or rather, "slipped" on icy steps, and landed in katara's medicine hut for an hour to heal a swelling ankle. zuko laughed when sokka returned back to the fire nation, telling a story that had grown to include a falling boulder and a baby.

sokka had fallen into the water. before anyone could call out "man overboard", zuko plunged into the icy depths, hell-bent on reaching sokka. later, the two young men (shivering, close to one another for warmth) argued below deck whether zuko had been "a fucking idiot" going after him. in the end, they couldn't agree, so they went to sleep angry. when the woke, the anger was gone.

sokka had fallen to the ground. and zuko followed, as sokka knocked him off balance. their weapons had long been discarded this match, so zuko landed right on sokka with a heavy grunt. for a split second, they sat there, breaths heavy. sokka took that moment to leverage his weight against zuko's and flip them over, pinning him down, a dare in his eyes, to continue the spar. (how long had sokka had freckles?) zuko yielded, and sokka let up. he rose, and offered his hand to zuko, who shakily took it.

sokka had fallen for it. zuko had mentioned his desire for a night out in the town... go to the market... see a local play. unfortunately, all the unorganized paperwork he had to sort through prevented him from such an endeavor. of course, sokka, as foolish as he was, in no time, had created an intricate yet comprehensible system for the paperwork. sokka had played right into his hands. zuko loved theatre, and loathed paperwork. the poor idiot didn't know zuko would've gone out anyway. (strangely, the trick lasted longer than he thought. sokka returned most evenings to help with paperwork)

sokka had fallen in love. zuko was sure of it. he'd seen the look in his eye years before. a certain light. he'd seen it leave after the breakup with suki. zuko was angry. he wasn't sure why, but he was. he had no right, of course. except maybe he did. because he was sokka's best friend, and they spent all their time together, they shared every dream and thought and fear with one another. so how and why was sokka keeping a secret like this from him? Of course that's why he was angry. he was happy for him, too. that light in his eyes might as well have been the sun, to zuko. but knowing sokka was in love with some girl did not make him happy. because of the secrecy of it all. (and no other reason at all)

sokka had fallen on the bed. well... maybe that fall had been encouraged by a slight push from zuko, who couldn't help but stare at every angle of sokka's body in wonder. he was perfect. the way he breathed, the groove of his abdomen meeting his hips, the way the light touched his beautiful skin. soon, he met the man's cool gaze, a gaze that returned a burning desire. sokka tugged at zuko's hands and guided him down to the bed with him, pulling him in for a deep kiss. (their nights were warm.)

sokka had fallen ill, and zuko panicked a bit more than was "cool" or "casual". he prepared a tea that he was sure would make sokka feel better. "that's really sweet", sokka said, "and very cute of you. unfortunately, this tastes like dirt. and you have a meeting. i'll be fine for an hour or two. might even get some sleep without your hovering." so zuko went to his meeting. (and worried about sokka the entire time. and when he returned, he continued worrying about sokka for days until he was better.)

sokka had fallen asleep, right in the middle of their conversation. zuko had half a mind to wake him up, just to force him to be a better listener, or impress upon him the impoliteness he was showing. but as he listened to his soft breathing, and saw the rising the falling of his chest, barely visible under the single lit candle in the room, he didn't. he let him sleep. and like a sunrise, or growing embers, a realization bloomed within zuko. "i love you", he whispered to sokka, who remained sound asleep. and the candle, and the stars, and the moon, and the fireflies all whispered it over and over. (i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you)

sokka had fallen out of favor with gran-gran after an incident of inappropriate language in her house. that's how sokka found himself scrubbing away at the laundry to make up for it. and that's how zuko found sokka mumbling some of that "incident"-adjacent language, following by insistence that he was a "grown man", and "an important political figure". zuko assured sokka that he wasn't there to help him with the laundry (he'd gotten himself into this mess). but as sokka scrubbed, the water started to warm in a way that made sokka stop his grumbling, and start singing an old work song. zuko sat alongside him, listening. this might be the reason he was supposed to be alive, he thought.

sokka had fallen into a routine with zuko that just seemed to make sense. their nights were warm (except when they weren't), and they didn't really fight (sometimes they did). the firelord and the ambassador were content and bright. even days they had to spend apart (which were sometimes weeks), they always found one another again. they would find the rhythm of one another, hearts beating in sync. as long as they kept beating, they would share the rhythm again.

sokka had fallen behind schedule. it was very unlike him, and zuko grew worried. the dancing lights in the sky only lasted so long, and he didn't want sokka to miss it. especially not tonight. he clutched the headpiece in his hand, wondering if it was suitable sokka rarely wore his hair up these days (which distracted him endlessly), so he might not even want it. but the time to dwell on that was far over, as zuko had already crafted the golden piece, and sokka came into view. he offered up a wave, and zuko was at ease. (he didn't at first see the hand-carved necklace sokka carried)

sokka had fallen upon the scene just in time. zuko hadn't even noticed the cloaked figure in the trees above him. he called out in desperation and panic just as the assassin jumped from his perch, knife in hand. zuko barely dodged out of the way, and sprang into action. between the two of them, sokka and zuko managed to restrain the attacker. as the guards detained the ozai loyalist, taking him to the dungeon, a stinging pain made itself known in zuko's shoulder, and he let out a hiss. sokka's eyes darted to the mark of blood growing on zuko's shirt. he would berate zuko for the next hour for being so careless. (he held zuko's hand while the healer stitched the cut) over the next few days, sokka wrote up a new security strategy presenting it to the council at the next meeting. "the firelord's safety was essential to the nation--to the world" he said. (his husband's safety was essential)

sokka had fallen prey to the dangerous attacks of little bumi. the toddler managed to grapple him, forcing sokka into a surrender. zuko cheered bumi on, firmly betraying his husband to curry favor with their young nephew. zuko basked in the feeling of this, and as he saw sokka in this gentle, playful light, another one of those blooming realizations hit him. when they returned him, zuko found an old file (using a very intricate system) an advisor had given him when he first declared his intention to marry sokka. he took out his quill, and studied the law proposal pertaining to his heir.

sokka had fallen head over heels for izumi as much as izumi had fallen head over heels for sokka. the second they laid eyes one another, it was over for zuko. forever the second-favorite dad, and sokka's second-favorite firebender. the little girl was clever and sharp. she took after her father in that way (the favorite one). she was also sneaky and rebellious and outspoken, taking after her father (the second-favorite). back in his days of banishment, zuko never allowed himself to dream of happiness. didn't allow himself to hope for love in this way. but even if he had, zuko didn't think he ever could have been capable of imagining happiness like this.

sokka had fallen. zuko watched it happen. one moment, he stood in complete normalcy, and the next, sokka was diving in front of zuko. and then he fell. the blood wasn't the thing that frightened zuko. it was the glaze in sokka's eyes. zuko didn't even remember killing the attacker. all he remembered was crashing to sokka's side. sokka sokka sokka sokka hey sokka sokka. you're alright. just look at me just look at me just loo--tat's it there we go good you see that? look at those pretty eyes of yours. no you can't close them, can't deprive us of that can you sokka, no you can't. hey hey hey no don't worry about it it's fine you're okay you're going to be just fine you understand you don't get to be anything else because you--

"it was good"

"what? what's that, what was good?"

"our life. us."

"...yes. it w-it is. and it's going to st--"

"shorter than we thought. than we dreamed."

"that's not--"

"but it was... good. that's what matters."

"you're going to be fine."

"you and izumi... you're my... my... and katara, and... and everyone. you... you all know. you all know, don't you? how much i love--"

"please don't"

"you know, don't you?"

"of course we know."

"it was good."

"i love you. don't go."

"it was good, zuko."

and zuko fell into despair.

into pieces. apart. he fell into a hole that he had never imagined even in his darkest times. it was wide and consuming.

he fell into oblivion. he fell beneath the waves.

all he could seem to do was fall which was funny because that's all sokka had seemed to do, too. even the first time zuko had met him, he fell. a brave boy who would protect those under his care at any cost.

he kept falling and falling and falling. revenge didn't keep him from falling. in fact, it dragged him down faster. meditation and crying and screaming and burning and talking and eating and not eating and hoping not hoping and remembering and forgetting didn't help him from falling.

each time he thought he hit the floor of this well of sorrow, it crumbled beneath him, swallowing him in further.

it was dark and his light had been stolen. his light. it was beautiful and thoughtful and stupid and perfect and clever and so selfless and it was gone.

"it was good" (he remembered)

it was gone (he insisted)

but it was good (something said)

at dinner, izumi laughed. a sound zuko hadn't heard in months.

in the distance, he could see something, the edge of the well.

"it was good" (that was true)

but it's gone (this was also true)

but despite it being gone, despite it all, one truth stood.

"it was good"

zuko received hundreds of letters from all nations--farmers and merchants and fisherman and soldiers and old men and children. every letter was a story of sokka, of the way he'd somehow helped them. zuko had thought he'd heard every story, but he somehow didn't know even half of it.

izumi had found a painting. a really bad painting of the three of them. zuko had no idea where she'd found it, but he couldn't help but let out a laugh when she showed it to him.

they found a secret compartment in sokka's desk. letters and poems and drawings and schematics and tickets and lists and ideas and journals were tucked away. izumi crawled into zuko's lap and they spend hours going through it all. as she lay asleep in his arms, he felt that blooming feeling, small and distant and quiet, but unmistakably there.

"it was good"

maybe this well could catch some light again.