#big time lore

[inkameswetrust]

Big Time Pokémon

Back in early October, I posted about wanting to explain the Pokémon partner headcanons I had for Big Time Rush. I never followed up on that until now, so here's the Pokémon I think they'd choose as their partners and why!

Kendall & Eevee

Back in his primary school days, Kendall's dad once came home from work with a wild Eevee purely on a whim. It didn't seem like it had anywhere else to go and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving it outside by itself. Kendall and Katie immediately fell in love with Eevee, but Jennifer was hesitant because raising a wild Pokémon requires a lot of responsibility and should've been a family decision. She eventually came around while watching Eevee and the kids responding so well to one another, thus making it the newest edition to the Knight family.

After Mr. Knight's untimely disappearance/passing, Eevee fostered feelings of guilt for intruding on the Knight household. It felt unwelcome in their home now that Mr. Knight was gone because he was its sole reason for being there in the first place. Kendall began taking Eevee out on adventures to compensate for those feelings of guilt and to show it that they could still have a life together outside of the household. However, that's not to say Eevee was no longer welcome in their home. The Knight family continued to raise, love, and care for Eevee even in Mr. Knight's absence. It chose to join Kendall's team in due course, but he refused to confine it to a Poké Ball because of its attachment to the rest of the family. It didn't feel right keeping Eevee to himself when Katie and Jennifer had their own individual bonds with it.

Eevee met Kendall's friends and accompanied them to their field/ice hockey games (casual and competitive). It picked up on Kendall's love for the ice and preference for the cold. It recognized that being out on the ice was therapeutic for Kendall and soothed him in times of uncertainty. Eevee took to joining the boys during their games one day to experience that bliss for itself. It bonded with Kendall over their mutual love for the sport and the cold that came with it.

As such, it has expressed wanting to evolve into a Glaceon. It believes that would warrant more of Kendall's love and, in turn, make up for the grief of losing his father. Kendall has reassured Eevee that evolving into a Glaceon isn't necessary. He loves Eevee plenty because its presence is a symbol of his father's love—the same love that brought them together. Kendall would only seek to aid Eevee in its pursuit of evolution should it seek to evolve on its own terms rather than for his benefit.

James & Igglybuff

While out shopping with his mother as a young boy, James heard the most heavenly singing voice echoing in the distance. He was effortlessly lured away and sought to follow the sound of the lulling, high-pitched voice of an angel. James crossed busy roads and sprinted through passersby until he found the cutest, smallest, pinkest wild Igglybuff serenading him from outside the alternative apparel shop his mother forbade him from visiting. He began harmonizing with it upon arrival to which is responded accordingly.

The two spent the afternoon breaking out in song together while passersby offered them their pocket money under the assumption that they were street performers. Brooke frantically charged in James' direction and pulled him away with the relief that she'd finally found him clouding the judgment that he'd been standing outside the "forbidden store" all this time. Igglybuff snuck into James' backpack and sleuthed its way into their home. It is said that Brooke hadn't noticed a wild Pokémon had been living in her house until a week after its arrival. Only then did she permit James to keep Igglybuff because she'd lost the energy to care.

Logan & Joltik

Logan sparked an interest with entomology just before the beginning of his adolescence. He figured honing his research skills would one day come in useful as a future Pokémon Professor. As such, he took to observing, studying, and experimenting with the local insect life in his neighborhood as a hobby. Logan had heard of very rare cases in which some Pokémon spoke. He constructed a makeshift device to replicate that phenomenon and was over the moon to finally test it out.

Once he was far enough away from home to observe a plethora of wild Pokémon, he decided to test it out on a wandering Joltik. To his surprise, Logan had neglected to charge the device, thus rendering it useless. He sat upon the grass to sulk in his defeat. The wild Joltik—sensing Logan's distress—offered to aid him by lending him its power. In using the move "Thunder Shock", Joltik overpowers Logan's device. It dismantles almost immediately. Despite its small size, Joltik used far more power than it was used to. Or perhaps Logan's device was just flimsy.

Instead of becoming teary-eyed from the failed results of his experiment, Logan is ecstatic with the data he's collected. He sought to research and study Joltik's behavior from that point on until he eventually took it in and made it his official research partner. It is said that Logan continues to work on that device to this day.

Carlos & Rockruff

Carlos' childhood pet, Lillipup, (or Sparky as he called it) ran away from home one day. It's unclear if someone left the door open or it dug a whole out from the backyard, but it was assuredly missing. He left the house in search of Sparky and wouldn't rest until it was found. Hours had gone by and there was no sign of it anywhere. Completely down on his luck, Carlos lowered himself to the sidewalk, hugged his knees and cried. He whispered Sparky's name several times amidst his weeping until he felt something nudging his leg. He looked up and saw a wild Rockruff sitting at his feet with a warm smile. "What're you doin' here? Don't you have a family to go home to?" Carlos asks in between sniffles. Rockruff shook its head no but continued to smile and sit by his side.

Carlos proceeded to bare his soul to Rockruff, telling it the tale of Sparky's disappearance and just how much it meant to him. Wanting to cheer the boy up, Rockruff offered to play. They'd spent their time playing together until nightfall when Officer Garcia hurried to find Carlos. Amidst the relief washing over the panic of losing his son, Officer Garcia asked, "What are you doing out here all alone so late, buddy?" Carlos told his father about Sparky's disappearance and how Rockruff had found him amidst his fruitless search. "Dad, I don't wanna be alone... can Rockruff stay with us tonight?" Carlos implored.

Heartbroken and sympathetic, Officer Garcia takes them both home. Then one night turns into two, and two into four, and four into a week, and a week into a month! Carlos decides to become an official Pokemon Trainer, exploring every inch of the region with "Rocky" by his side. He still leaves a vacant space in his team in hopes that Sparky will one day return to him.

As an added bonus, I've put together a roster of each boy's completed Pokémon team (without backstories) as fully fledged trainers! It was really fun to pick them out.

Thanks for reading! <3 When editing the lineup images, I meant for Carlos' Lycanroc to say Dusk instead of Midday. That is not Lycanroc's Midday form.

[inkameswetrust]

Big Time Rush: Big Time Terror - Season 1 Episode 13 (May 8, 2010) Timestamp - 16:59

they said duluth.

you're right abt everything else tho! great observations, i would've loved to see the stuff you listed :)

Things in Big Time Rush that we never see, for some reason:

1) Kendall's dad

2) Logan's dad

3) Any siblings besides Katie

4) The bedrooms in 2J

5) Big Time Rush actually playing ice hockey

6) The name of the boys' hometown (it's Duluth, but the word "Duluth" is never uttered)

7) The inside of Camille's apartment

8) The Palmwoods' stairwell

9) Any birthdays besides Jo's

10) Thanksgiving

11) Childhood flashbacks

12) Jo's mom

13) Camille's mom

14) Aunts, uncles, cousins, or grandparents (family is seriously lacking in this show)

15) Guitar Dude's real name

16) Lightning the TV Wonder Dog's owner

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[crowliphale]

Incomprehensible lore drop for the sake of a meme

[wyvernity]

been thinking about the sinnohtrio lately......plus misc other stuff

also, casual ko-fi drop!! get something in this sketchy style starting at $10 woop woop

[moonlight-mistral]

ultratober 2 - the most epic battle /// …LIKE ANTENNAS TO HEAVEN

seeing the earthmovers in the distance throughout the 7th layer absolutely did not prepare me for seeing it up close for the first time

[qu0rky]

will i ever watch/read that? no, probably not.

but do i still go on ao3 to search up its most popular homoerotic ship and get infodumped all the necessary lore in order to enjoy the fics? yes, give me 14 more of that.

[a2zillustration]

Stopping by to pick up a few things on the way to Waterdeep

🥐 Croissant Adventures Masterpost 🥐

[inkameswetrust]

Big Time Pokémon (Part 2)

I was incredibly inspired by the creative process of the first Big Time Pokémon blog that I decided to expand this headcanon series to secondary and tertiary Big Time Rush characters. Be prepared for more Big Time Pokémon content in the future! :D

Lucy & Zorua

When Lucy first decided to become a Pokémon Trainer, her parents were very strict about the type of Pokémon she was allowed to catch. They disapproved of her catching namely dark, poison, and ghost types because they believed that such Pokémon embodied traits such as spite, malice, and recklessness that would deter her from being poised and well-mannered. Her parents also believed that training such Pokémon would harm the image they crafted for her in order to pursue a career in classical music.

One day, Lucy convinced her parents to let her venture out by herself in order to catch her first Pokémon. Despite most trainers starting out young, her parents were concerned for her safety without already having a Pokémon at her disposal to aid her. Lucy had saved up enough allowance to purchase items from the local Poké Center to compensate. As long as she promised to stay local, Lucy's parents happily obliged.

Lucy deviated from her designated route the moment she was out of sight and encountered a wild Zorua practicing its ability of illusion amongst other wild Pokémon. She was fascinated by its playful nature and was positive Zorua was the Pokémon she wanted to catch. Zorua gazed intently at Lucy as she approached it, but she wasn't entirely confident in catching it. She retrieved a Poké Ball from her bag and it trembled in her hand. Lucy couldn't bring herself to defy her parents and catch Zorua, so she fled in a panic and arrived home empty handed.

Upon her return, Lucy's parents asked what Pokémon she ended up catching. A Skitty nuzzled her feet and meowed before she could answer. Lucy looked down in surprise but said nothing as her parents cooed at her first ever Pokémon. They couldn't be more pleased with her choice. Lucy went along with things until she was alone and took the Skitty outside to release it. She had no idea she'd been followed home and didn't want to take on the responsibility of a Pokémon she never chose. The Skitty's form disappeared and revealed that it was just Zorua in disguise. Lucy was marveled by its ability and was overjoyed to see it. They became immediate partners from then on. Zorua made a habit of giving off the illusion of a Skitty in the presence of Lucy's parents until she moved away to the Palm Woods. Lucy has expressed that the colors of Zorua's fur inspired the colors of her hair.

Mercedes & Furfrou

Being the daughter of one of the most successful CEOs in America, Pokémon training was but a mere leisure for Mercedes. She was accustomed to her father paying for professional trainers catching the most coveted Pokémon in the region to give to Mercedes. She ended up giving away dozens of Pokémon the trainers caught for her until Griffin had enough. He put his foot down and declared to not waste another dime on Pokémon she wouldn't bother taking care of. If Mercedes wanted to be a trainer, she'd have to catch her own Pokémon.

After a short lived tantrum and a few "But, Daddy!"s later, Mercedes visited the nearest Poké Ball Boutique to purchase the best Poké Balls money could buy. She sought to buy a handful of Luxury Balls, but the credit card Griffin gave her declined upon purchase. When Mercedes called Griffin to rectify the situation, he told her that when he said to catch her own Pokémon he also meant she needed to purchase her own supplies. Mercedes used whatever cash she had on hand and settled for a few Premier Balls.

Embarrassed and ashamed from having spent so little money, Mercedes drags her feet to the nearest meadow and begrudgingly begins her search. She crams a Premier Ball in her fist and holds it out until she's met with a horde of Scatterbug. Mercedes shrieks and drops the Premier Ball, scrambling away until the small of her back meets the trunk of a tree. She's never responded well to insects. One of the Scatterbug uses String Shot™ on her favorite pearl-white sundress she immediately dusts off saying "Eww!" over and over again with an unsettled squeak in her voice.

As the horde of Scatterbug corner her, a wild Furfrou leaps before Mercedes and uses Growl™ to intimidate and scare away a cowardly pair of the bunch. It uses Bite™ and Quick Attack™ to successfully fend off the rest. She was relieved yet still mildly unsettled by Furfrou's shaggy fur. Furfrou walked away, allowing Mercedes the space to breathe and recollect herself. Furfrou returned shortly after with her discarded Premier Ball in its mouth. It offered to hand it to her, but saw how uncomfortable Mercedes was. Instead, Furfrou lowered the Premier Ball to the ground and rolled it over to her.

Mercedes hesitantly took the Premier Ball from the ground and gently tossed it in Furfrou's direction, successfully catching it. As her voice lifted with a triumphant squeal, Mercedes clung to Furfrou's Premier Ball and hurried home with her father on the phone. As congratulations for a job well done, Griffin offered to pay for Furfrou's grooming. He was sure this would be money well spent. Mercedes declined Griffin's offer. She didn't care much for Furfrou's shaggy fur, but she'd rather earn that privilege than have it given to her. Mercedes earned enough money from Pokémon battles to pay for Furfrou's grooming and chose the Heart Trim form to match her wardrobe. As snooty and privileged as the two may appear, Furfrou serves as a reminder of the lesson Mercedes learned from having caught it. Furfrou is a testament to her independence and strength.

Guitar Dude & Grookey

Growing up, Guitar Dude was too preoccupied with his studies and cello practice to train Pokémon. Due to his ability to quickly learn and master a stringed instrument, his parents hurried to capitalize on his talent. They urged him to play for weddings, funerals, concerts, and other special occasions in hopes he'd grow up to be a successful musician who'd provide for them well into old age. Guitar Dude kept very little of his earnings, if any at all, and eventually became burnt out.

He hated the thought of ever having to play his cello for another performance, but he'd continue to play and collect any of his earnings his parents didn't already keep for themselves. Guitar Dude used those earnings to fund his emancipation from his parents. Once the emancipation was granted, the court ordered that his parents pay him in full for whatever he'd earned over the years for performing. Guitar Dude used his earnings to move to Los Angeles where he moved into the Palm Woods and started out as a ghostwriter. It was a good enough distance from playing the cello while also being involved in the music industry. Guitar Dude discovered he had many unresolved feelings of which he used to inspire the songs he wrote.

Although he was happy to finally be living his own life, as dull as it may seem, Guitar Dude felt unfulfilled. He loved the feeling of playing an instrument, his fingers dancing upon the strings and striking each chord like a wave crashing onshore. But he couldn't handle the memories and mistreatment the cello forced him to recall. What was a boy to do?

Guitar Dude aimlessly strolled through the Palm Woods park one afternoon in search of an answer. He sat down on a park bench and looked over his shoulder to see Buddha Bob trimming the hedges. Buddha Bob's tranquil energy and calming nature bewitched Guitar Dude and caused him to stare. He struck up a conversation in which Buddha Bob picked up on Guitar Dude's existentialism. As Guitar Dude told his sorrowful tale and expressed his fruitless search for self-fulfillment, Buddha Bob suggested that the solution to his problems may not be as distant as they seem. Staying within the margins of the music industry doesn't have to be so difficult when there are various opportunities to take advantage of. It's all a matter of knowing where to look for said opportunities.

Suddenly, a sheet of paper billowed in the wind and flew right into Guitar Dude's hand. It was a flyer for local guitar lessons with a slogan that read, "Relax and unwind with music on the mind!" After briefly thanking Buddha Bob for his wisdom, Guitar Dude hurried to the address on the flyer. He went into songwriting for himself once he quickly mastered his new instrument. His songs took a mellow turn, conveying messages of transcending the human experience and trusting the winds of fate. While practicing his guitar in the Palm Woods park one morning, a wild Grookey crawled to the foot of his bench and rocked to the rhythm of his strumming. It accompanied Guitar Dude's acoustic melody with the drumming of its special stick. Passersby surrounded them and danced to their equally tranquil and groovy sound. The harmony between string and percussion liberated Guitar Dude and provided him with the fulfillment he was searching for.

He and Grookey made it a regular occurrence to meet in the Palm Woods park for jam sessions. Guitar Dude did so much of his songwriting in Grookey's presence that it became adamant to become his partner. He was skeptical at first from never having the time to train Pokémon, but the fact that he finally had the ability to make that choice made him feel hopeful. With that in mind, Guitar Dude happily submitted a Pokémon Trainer application and caught Grookey upon its approval. Guitar Dude has expressed that Grookey inspired his ambition to play the bongos.

Griffin & Rookidee

Arthur Griffin has always been territorial and cutthroat in nature. When he was a child, many believed his demeanor was just another childish phase that he'd grow out of once he started to mature. Truthfully, his mannerisms were learned. Being the youngest of several successfully intelligent and capable brothers, Arthur often competed with them for attention, affection, and validation. Despite this reality, he found that sometimes he didn't have the heart to constantly put up a fight. It was exhausting and led him astray from the person he wanted to be.

At school, Arthur was a pushover and a frequent target for teasing, name-calling, and other sorts of petty ridicule. With so much of his energy spent on scavenging for attention and respect at home, there was none left to spend at school. It seemed there'd never be enough money in the world to buy Arthur the courage to demand the respect of those around him.

His head hung low on his routine walk from school one afternoon, but the flailing and flapping of a wild Rookidee's wings caught his attention and ensnared him in a trance of awe. The Rookiedee pecked, poked, and scratched a horde of Skwovet surrounding and outnumbering it. Arthur watched in amazement as Rookidee continuously put up a fight even if it didn't stand a chance. Its courage and bravery was truly awe-inspiring. Rookidee managed to scare a couple Skowvet away, but the rest growled angrily and stood their ground.

Arthur ran to the Rookidee's side crying out "Stop! Don't hurt it!" as he stood firmly before the remaining Skwovet with his arms outstretched to the sides. He narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows, and grit his teeth to craft the most intimidating look he could muster. His rutty exhales and belligerent gaze were identical to that of a Tauros; unwavering in their line of defense and unwilling to back down. Although Rookidee was battered and bruised from battle, it gazed up at Arthur with a hopeful glint in its eye, grateful to have someone come to its aid and invigorated to keep putting up a fight. It rose to its feet and squawked with all its might to disarm the small grouping of Skwovet. Arthur joined in with a battle cry of his own, and together they roared with every ounce of courage they possessed to drive their opponents away. Their moment of triumph was brief but meaningful. At that moment, Arthur knew he was destined to train this Pokémon no matter what. He took Rookidee home and vowed that as long as they were together, they'd never have to fight their battles alone again.

In the previous Big Time Pokémon blog, I categorized each team's lineup with fully evolved Pokémon. Going forward, I'd like to categorize the teams with varying levels of strength and evolution. I believe that fleshes out the characters more because varying levels of strength are indicative of their goals and individual journeys as trainers.

[suckmydictionary5]

[chipper-smol]

WOOO THEY'RE DONE

i underestimated how long this would take, but honestly i'm glad i did it, cause it was indulgent and the results are satisfying as hell

if you wanna play with their sprites I'm gonna put a link to the google drive they're in along with the original file so you can make your own Loop expressions!

[blackkatdraws2]

This little NPC is lost. The Narrator [Black] has come to guide her back to where she needs to be. [Blank Scripts AU]

I imagine Black would be a lot more tolerant toward his NPCs since they're basically just the Dungeons spawns, and by extension, his own creations.

[If you're familiar with manhwas / manhuas that features the dungeon / system genre, you'd be able to understand this AU a lot easier. The majority of my inspiration for worldbuilding came from those specific genres.]

[NOTE: 'Dungeon' is just another term for the Parable. Technically, Black owns a Dungeon and the Parable is just a small part of it. The Dungeon itself is much, much larger.]

For context, the comic below references this post about the Dungeon's children/guard dogs.

[They're more like the immune system since all they do is make sure the (body) is safe.]

[The reason the Narrator [Black] considers them his children is that the Dungeon is feeding off his energy and in turn shares the 'nutrients' to the monsters it produces, which transforms them into an image that resembles his power.]

And the old man below is Joseph!

Joseph is NOT AN NPC! He is a person who exists outside of the Dungeon!

[There are two separate 'worlds' for this AU. Inside the Dungeon (where most of the game-like stuff is happening) and the world outside (pretty much their normal world.)]

[There is a secret third world, and that's our world. Our reality.]

These characters are not actually important or anything, I just made them to make the AU feel more lively. To make a world that exists, you know?

When the Narrator [Black] first established himself in their world, he found a growing problem with homelessness. Not understanding human norms or why this has become a problem in the first place, he offers (tricks) them into working for him as janitors for the Dungeon and they accept for the money.

Most of them left after they got paid, but Joseph was one of the people who stayed. He doesn't have anywhere else to go and has no ambitions in life. He just wishes to live a peaceful life with food and a roof over his head.

Joseph defaults to referring to the Narrator [Black] with feminine terms due to his appearance despite his voice. The Narrator [Black] is not the type to care for such terms anyway so he doesn't care how other people refer to him as long as there's respect.

--------------

This post focuses more on the worldbuilding and background aspects of the AU! There are a lot more in store for the Blank Scripts AU, and I want to explore more on how the characters might interact with their surroundings and how this would work to make a world that makes sense.

It would be so cool if people made self-inserts or OCs for my AU actually. I'd love to see how you guys would work with my stuff. Play around with it like a barbie world for your little barbie dolls. Be canon compliant, be canon divergent, who cares, have fun.

[pricetagged]

raft of the leucothea

A little Kyle piece for the Gaz lovers 💖 to tide you over while I work on the Nikolai and the Price stuff.

Shipwrecked. Washed ashore, injured and sick, and thankfully not alone. A man called Kyle Garrick has washed ashore with you.

No big warnings, just some ever-so-slight dubcon naked cuddling (for survival!).

----------

The harsh, salty spray stung your cracked cheeks. Like clay left to bake in the sun, you felt the cracking and peeling of stinging flesh. But you felt it, that was the important thing.

Sunshine seared through your eyelids, a high noon wake-up call. Glowing ember-red, turning the sands to hot coal beneath you. You only had a second to process it before you rolled over, cramping muscles seizing in a paroxysm of a crawl as you hacked and coughed briny, burning seawater.

Alive then.

You were scared to open your eyes. You could pretend that they were crusted shut, sand and grit and god only knows what flaking over. Irritating, painful. A conjunctivitis of caustic circumstance. If you opened your eyes, it was real.

No, it was better as you were. A temporary balm to a blistering scald. Eyes-wide-shut, blind to the horrible damp marl and putrid air burning through your smarting nostrils. Sea life and smoke; pungent enough to turn your stomach once more.

You moaned as you collapsed on the shore, skin-fever hot and itching. Grit and shell-shards dug in, piercing your sensitive flesh. Clinging, burrowing. Discomfiting. Like the discordant memories swimming to the surface, all driftwood and screams and kicking, aching feet.  

There was no more screaming.

The waves lapped at the shore, a gentle balmy breeze carrying the soft sloshing of surf. Hazy popping and crackling accompanied it, a paradisiac white noise that scrambled your sluggish thoughts. Your eyes fluttered open. Temporarily blind from solar glare, you blinked moisture back. Tried to, at least. You were parched, eyes-dry and throat drier.

Perhaps you expected to see devastation. Destruction. Flotsam and jetsam and bodies strewn along the beach. There was a fire, yes, but it was not from the casket of the ship. Debris visible, but neat. Collected and organized into tidy little piles by a great smoking fire. Through the heat-haze of the flames, you spotted a flash of green: fresh leaves. Gaseous white billowed up; perfect for maximum visibility.

"Ah, you're awake." A shadow fell over you, gentle hands supporting your back until you were somewhat upright. "Here, you'll need this."

You grimaced as your cracked lips crinkled around the fruit, harsh little fibres stabbing in. But the relief–

Light, nutty, refreshing. You guzzled it down, big greedy slurps as your hands raised to cup it closer, throat constricting as you lost your breath–

"Hey, hey, slow down," the stranger spoke, easily plucking the coconut from your shaky fingers. "You'll make yourself sick. Again."

"Thanks." You could at least croak out your gratitude, squinting to get a better look at him. "The others–?"

He was gorgeous, dark eyes and eyebrows slanted into the perfect expression of concern. He looked surprisingly normal, given the circumstances. Only a slight split on his full lips, a smear of sand crusted into his curls, marred his handsome face. You watched as his mouth twisted, as he rolled his neck glanced away. A grimace, more telling than words.

"Just you, me, the sand and the coconuts. Paradise cruise, eh?" He finally spoke, nose scrunching as the joke came out a little flat.

It wasn't a shock, but it was jarring all the same. Though you swallowed, your voice came out thick. "At least you're here. Wouldn't have gotten this open by myself."

It was feeble, words half swallowed as survivor's guilt and gallows humour met and warred. A dysfunctional marriage of relief and self-reproach curdled the coconut water in your stomach. A third player entered; unease. Anxiety, sending your heart rate spiralling high as your breaths grew shallow. Something stung your eyes, and you couldn't entirely blame the smoking fire–

"Hey, hey, look at me," You couldn't look away, not from his steady, unwavering gaze. Beautiful. Like sunlight filtered through whiskey, warm and soothing. "Breathe as I breathe– in, out, in– hold it– okay, out. That's right, that's perfect–"

He talked you through it, brought your trembling, clumsy fingers to his chest as he breathed in counts of eight. Kept his palm over your hand, cupped it against the rise and fall of his ribs. You could feel the firmness of his muscles beneath, feel the way his heart beat a steady rhythm just below your fingertips, and slowly, you relaxed into it.

Your cheeks were wet. You realised that around the same time you realised his other hand was rubbing ataractic circles on your back. A shameful emollient, setting you at ease but lowering your gaze. Here, in the arms of this stranger, who were you? Troublesome castaway, retching on the beach as he built a signal fire. Slurping down the fruit that he offered, then crying in his arms–

"Stop that," His hand paused between your should blades, chin tucked as he leaned down to catch your gaze. "You're doing so well, love. Bit of a fucked up situation we're in here."

"How are you so calm? How are you so organised? I feel like I'm going to drift away like–like–"

The hand at your back pushed you forward, pressing until you were draped across his lap. He rocked you, stubble against your temples as he shushed and soothed. Analgesic whispers that slackened your tight limbs, sent eyelids fluttering until you slipped into slumber. Mind numb, docked in restful harbours.

-----------------

When you woke up, you were hot. Shivering, teeth-chattering, but hot. You could no longer smell the fire, but you could feel it against your bare skin. Toasty, crackling embers smouldering and making you sweat.

The fever slowed your mind, too. Thoughts turned to sluggish, sticky mulch as you nuzzled into the strong bicep supporting your neck. His skin was smooth, slightly tacky where it met yours, and you whined a little as you tried to pull away.

But moving sent your head spinning, aching muscles seizing until all you could do was cry.

"You're alright, just sleep. Don't move–"

"My clothes," you slurred the words, heavy and sticky on your tongue. Crystallising like spoiled honey, you tried to spit them out faster, but they just dripped. Molasses-slow, and murky. Confused. "I'm not– my clothes are– what–?"

"I took them off you–shh, shh– They were tattered anyway, we'll need to dig through the piles and see what we can repair." You felt his arm flex below you, rolling your head until it was resting on the pillow of his chest. You tried to open your eyes, but the image was hazy. Like looking through seaglass. "It's cold here at night, freezing. The fire's good, but body heat's best."

"'m too hot– feel too–"

"Yeah, noticed you weren't just cold when you wouldn't stop shivering," his forearm banded around your squirming body, pinning you to his. "I know, baby, I know. It's not nice. Gonna try to sweat it out of you. Don't exactly have the luxury of good food and medicine."

His voice was pitched low, sweet. It made you want to cry, mind adrift and body at his mercy. Holiday turned tragedy, swallowed up by the sea and spat up on the beach like refuse. Control slipped through your fingers, finer and more fickle than the sands below and all you could do was cry.

You felt his fingers, whisper-soft, stroking through the ends of your salty, parched hair. Your tears dripped down, soaking into your flushed cheeks and the sparse, scratchy hairs on his chest. He paused for a beat, fingers swiping over your damp forehead. Whisps pushed away until you felt a butterfly kiss against your clammy forehead. Quick and gentle and fleeting.

Small waves kissed the beach, too. Susurrus, splashing caresses that almost sent you drifting off again. The rumble of his voice tickled your cheek, made you blink slowly until you could make out his face through bleary eyes.  

"It's just you and me and this island," He spoke it softly, sting mollified by surety. Bittersweet ointment for a distressing prognosis. "I've got you; I'll take care of you. I promise."

Your answer was faint. "What if no-one comes for us?"

His arms curled tighter around you, twisted until you were splayed atop him. In another time, another place, you'd be flustered by the open splay of your legs, bare against his lean waist. Here, shame withered away, fizzled out. Ephemeral as seafoam.

"I told you, I'll take care of you. Rescue or not, it's you and me now."

Later, you'd blame delirium, fever dream-fugue, for how the words echoed in your mind. 'Just you and me.'

You and him, and the island.

-----------

[canisalbus]

I heard a while ago that Machete was a nickname/codename, is this true? Will we know his "real" name?

Yeah! It's what some of his colleagues started to call him, initially behind his back. Something between a mean-spirited nickname and a backhanded compliment that stuck.

Machete is very competent at his job as the Holy See's Secretary of State, believe it or not. Even those that have something against him have to admit that he isn't a complete waste of space. He's hardworking and diligent to an obsessive degree, and has developed a sort of a cold, ruthlessly efficient no-nonsense work persona. He's known for getting results, and can come across kind of intimidating and impersonal while doing it. The less charitable parts of the Curia view him and his willingness to work himself to the bone for the benefit of the Church as a useful but ultimately replaceable tool. He doesn't come from a noble family so he isn't anyone's priced heirloom sword, but he's excellent for clearing out obstacles while he's here.

[triglycercule]

imagining this very funny totally amusing bit where dust (despite having a lot of pockets) makes horror carry a lighter for him (only because he can't be bothered to remember to bring one on him all the time) and horror keeps it in his head

but horror's a dick so everytime dust wants to smoke and he needs a light horror's always like "whats the password :3" (he actually said the emoticon i was the quotation marks) and dust has to guess. because horror changes it every time. and its never something predictable. and then he either just totally gives up on that cig or he has to forcefully dig into horror's head to get the lighter because horror's being a PRICK

now dust is shoulder deep into horror's eyesocket while horror is clawing and screaming and killer's just standing there behind them watching this unfold with that fuckass smile on his face (he can't get this type of entertainment anywhere else)

[formulanni]

🤠 (bday vers below the cut)

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