#and replace whatever the water has damaged

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

Me:

Me: *walks into my bathroom to see yet another thing broken in the middle of a winter storm*

Me: i do not have the mental fortitude for this rn

Me: *walks out again*

[yaut-jaknowit]

Trio of bad bloods obsessed with their human mechanic. So much so that said human has no choice but to live on their ship because they'd be dammed if someone else touched you! (Not that the human is complaining, lol) The human is smitten :3 perhaps said human teases them to break the sexual tension?

Scared to come off anon still, but I adore your works! ♡

Not A Bad Sight

Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male), A'jiadh (Male), Zaikeh (Female) x Mechanic!Reader

Word Count: 2179

Summary: The same trio always shows up every month, sometimes even shorter. You've come to learn more about them both in contact and in passing. You work on their ship. They do ask for you by name. You get their craft operating every time. The longer this goes on, the less the trio wants to let you go.

Author Note: This is a fantastic idea! I loved writing this so much. Also, this gave me an idea for anons. For those who are using Anon, could you use an emoji or even a nickname to distinguish everyone. Another thing, I promise I don't bite! If you want to jump into my Dms and rant about Yautjas, I'll be right there with you

Masterlist

Ao3

Sweat dribbled down your forehead. The heat of the place nearly overwhelming if you hadn’t grown use to it day in, day out. A small electrical fan spun on the highest setting and blew slightly cooler air at you. Not too much of a difference. Someone would have to pry the thing out of your melted, sweat hands before you would give it up though.

With your forearm, you swiped away the offending salty drip of water and continued to tighten a bolt. This was such an easy fix, one any of those hunks of meat could easily do themselves. They are known to get their hands dirty.

Those large muscles you knew had to take years to perfect aren’t a sight you would turn away from. Said muscles could easily unlogde this moderate size space rock, pull the damage panelling up, then replace it.

Not even the hardware underneath the panel was damaged. But nope, the trio came sauntering and always asked you by name. Your boss could care less. It earned her money. Money in both of your pockets was a job well done. Though, you came by honesty with them and let them know this was more trouble for their pockets then it was worth to have you fix. All of them insisted you fixed it, trusting their ship in your hands.

For whatever reason, they always wanted you to make all the repairs on their vessel.

Said vessel was sleek, clean, a speed class with just a hair of defense to take a hit or two. The speed came with its downfall when it came to space junk or debris. That’s why it’s here right now.

A grunt surpassed your lips once the last bolt was secured. You proudly smirked down at the completed work then hoped off the wing.

This ship was a beauty to work on. Yautjas rarely let anyone work on their ships. So, to have an opportunity like this fall into your hands. It would be stupid to pass it on to someone else. Especially seeing all three of them walk out of the shop to pass the time. You hated to see them go but the sight was beautiful.

Like the countless times before, you send a ping to Mai’tuiudh. He’s the leader of the bunch. Well… ‘leader’. He takes charge during the transactions but it’s A’jiadh who chats you up. Then, there’s Zaikeh. The lumber giant even to the other two. A female from the pieces of information you’ve been able to pull about Yautjas and their societies.

Due to the day winding down, you stayed up at the front desk and waited for your familiar customers to walk through. A tablet in hand to keep yourself busy until then.

It’s a rarity to see a female, that you know of from personal experience and the universe wide web. The reason is unknown to you but maybe you could pull the information from one of them one day.

Of course, who knows if the Yautjas are purposefully removing knowledge of their inner workings. They don’t actively seek out other species and stick to their own. A forward going species with a serious attitude that hung to the very depths of their DNA.

A soft ding pulled you from your device and glancing at the only door in and out of this place. In walked the trio you’ve grown to know. You stood up and dipped your head in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers,” you greeted with a knowing smirk, your eyes finding Mai in the front.

Said male strolled into the front area and stopped at the counter dividing the four of you. His partners in crime followed in after him and paused at his sides. A’jiadh leans onto the stone tabletop and pushed closer to your personal space. There was a glint in his eyes you’ve grown to learn. He’s a cheeky little fucker and loves to see you act in any submissive way. You didn’t know if this was him personally or a trait among the Yautjas being such a dominant race.

The others showed the same trait but less of an amount. Just in causal passing, you guessed.

Before Mai could have the chance to speak, A’jiadh beat him to the punch. “So, dollface, everything fixed up for us or were you wanting to see us again for encouragement? Because I can give you all encouragement you could ever ask for,” he teased and leaned even closer to you.

Countless times around the forward Yautja, you’ve learned to just stay where you at. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You know you could’ve fixed this yourself. You have all the right tools. Nothing was damaged,” you voiced the situations details again with a helpful tone.

Despite not falling into his tricks, A’jiadh wasn’t discouraged at all. No matter how many times you ignored the flirty comments he would throw at you.

Mai shoulder checked the mottled olive green Yautja to the side and fully stepped up to the plate. “How much?” His voice was gravelly and sent a shiver down your spine every time.

You grabbed the tablet off of the counter and scrolled through the list of customers until landing on them. The price was something you would never be willing to pay for something so simple that a child could do… if they had the strength to get the bolts off. But these are Yautjas. Probably the strongest known species that traveled the universe.

Labor and materials do cost a pretty credit around here though. You’re the best known in the system.

A heft sigh pushed the air out of your lungs. You set the tablet on the tall counter in front of him. “Well, it’s gonna be a pretty five-hundred and six credit repair,” you said and pointed towards the bottom of the page where it was typed out.

A’jiadh ‘oo’ed then lifted one of his upper mandibles, resembling a human-like smirk. “Pretty like you.” You raised a single brow at the Yautja before you put your hands on your hips, jutting one out.

“Love, you couldn’t handle me,” you said and shook your head to feign discouragement to the Yautja. It’s not like you wanted them to give up. No, instead, you wanted them to chase. Predator vs prey.

Fire blazed to life in his teal blue eyes. You weren’t oblivious to their intentions. Far from it. You knew their game as the hunters their species is known for. A game you were more than happy to play along with. But it’ll be a hard game. No easy mode.

“Is that so?” he purred out, muscles tensing as if he was readying himself for a hunt.

Before the game could continue between the two of you, Mai handed back the device. “All paid,” he interrupted and rested an elbow on the high counter afterwards. Your gaze jumped over to him. You took the tablet back and set it off to the side.

“Well, come on folks, your chariot awaits.” They’ve been back here so many times that you didn’t necessarily needed to lead them but decided to anyhow. Again, you would love to be on the other side of them. All of them walking away.

The door opened to reveal the massive hanger with many other vessels in here for repairs. Always busy, always working here. A shop that does good work always has an influx of customers. That’s this shop.

Closer to the front of the line up, sat their beautifully crafted ship. You loved to work on it every time they brough it in. Stunning in style and sleekness. You could never get enough of it. A smile worked its way onto your face before you stopped and about faced. “Here’s your beauty. Everything checked out. I got bored and ran a check on all the systems to ensure they were working properly. No issues. I’m happy to say she has a clean bill of health.”

Zaikeh stopped at your side, facing the ship. She looked down at you. Like usual, the black scaled Yautja stayed quiet and observed you within the silence. It freaked you at first but you have come to learn that’s just how she is.

“Got any questions for me?” you asked the trio before fully releasing the ship back into their care.

A’jaidh chirped and crowded into your space. You didn’t back down and enjoyed his heat brushing against your skin. A better feel than the sweltering heat the hanger gets on average. “What would it take for you to come with us?” he questioned.

Out of all the times you’ve interacted with them, these words surprised you. Your brows shot up to your hair line. Your mouth sputtered for a moment to find the right words. “W-what do you me-an?” Come with them? In what way? You don’t travel very often. The shop keeps you busy and happily wealthy to live in a comfortable apartment by yourself in a safe area on the planet.

He moved closer, your chest to his midriff. You didn’t see it happen before you felt another source of heat trap you to A’jaidh. “I think you know what he means, little one.” The smooth voice of Zaikeh met your ears. You could melt into a puddle from the heat inside of you, boiling your blood to steam.

“Like go with you guys?” you needed clarification before agreeing to anything. All this talk, this game you’ve played was in its last quarter, you had to make the last goal to win.

“Be our mechanic. Only ours. We’ll keep you safe, fed, and pampered,” Mai whispered into your ear, surprising you from his sudden appearance. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. They caught their prey.

You.

“All you have to do is stay with us,” Mai muttered softly in your other ear, somehow moving around quickly. He was showing off his prowess and abilities as a hunter. “Be our mechanic. We’ll take care of you, little ooman.”

Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and gave the idea a thought. The ability to reach for the stars, go anywhere with them. Yeah, the shop was fun, the money was good. But this here, was an opportunity you would die for. Kill for even. Three Yautjas wanted you. You wanted the three Yautjas.

All the plays you endured while playing this game with them is paying off. You swallowed your nerves and straightened your spine before looking to the side at Mai. He was the leader after all. “I’ll go with you,” you accepted, couldn’t deny the way your body vibrated with anticipation and anxiety.

A Cheshire-like grin spread across his alien face. “Good, because it wasn’t a choice. You’re ours. No one is allowed to touch you or even look in your general vicinity,” Mai growled and brushed his knuckled against your cheek.

“Yeah, we aren’t below kidnapping you. But, we’re glad you’ve decided to come willingly,” A’jaidh joined the conversation.

Kidnapping?! “You were going to kidnap me? That doesn’t seem very honorable. Wouldn’t that break your honor code?” you questioned and tilted your head.

The hand that brushed against your cheek snatched your chin to lift up your head. Mai’tuiudh stood up tall before your form. “Honor? Oh sweet thing, we don’t care about honor. We are Bad Bloods after all,” he admitted. Your eyes widened at the realization that these Yautjas aren’t part of the majority of their species society. Instead, they’re the rouges who’ve broke their promise and honor. There was nothing holding them back from killing you.

And you loved it.

The two Yautjas pinning you between them finally backed off and allowed you to have some breathing room. Mai kept his hold on your chin and dragged you closer to him. “You’re ours now, ooman.” Then Mai let go and motioned towards the ship. Without complaint you happily skipped towards the belly of the ship.

Just like them, you knew the ship like the back of your hand. You tapped in the code to lower the ramp and waited for it go fully down. A glance behind you showed they were following you into their ship. Nothing could wipe off the smile on your face. A new, exciting chapter in your life.

[grandlinedreams]

Hello, I've been reading Ur fics lately (esp with law) and I love them

I was wondering if you could make angst? Like... Let's say there's this big battle, like the one in wano, where reader and law gets separated, but after the battle Law finds reader unconscious and being treated by chopper who then explains they had severe wounds and might need blood transfusion.

It also just happens that he was gonna confess to them after all of the chaos so that they'd be safe in his arms. And that might not even happen since now they have each foot on both worlds.

I'd imagine Law going along with talking to them even if they're unconscious just to keep them here in the living. (If they're alone ofc)

I hope that's alright

OUGH some angst my beloved,,,i can absolutely do that, I hope I do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: angst, serious injuries, some brief medical talk, hurt/very little comfort, keeping in line w Law literally calling none of the Strawhats by their names, open-ended]

Truth be told, Law doesn't keep much of an eye on you during battles. It's hard enough keeping an eye on what the enemy is doing ㅡ especially if the Strawhats are involved. They ㅡ especially their captain ㅡ have a knack for blowing careful plans out of the water and he's forced to play damage control until it's over.

You're also fully capable of looking after yourself, and he trusts you and your skillset. So when he doesn't immediately find you once things have started settling down, he doesn't think much of it.

When five minutes turns to ten, then to fifteen, then half an hour, however, alarm bells start going off in his head. You've never taken this long to check in with him. Has something happened? Have you beenㅡ

No, he won't let himself think of that option. Not now, not ever. So he keeps as optimistic as reality will allow him ㅡ until he hears his name being called.

"Oi, Law!"

It's Sanji. "What is it, Blackleg?"

The blond's expression is his first warning that whatever it is, it isn't pleasant. "Chopper told me to come get you."

That's his second warning. Eyes narrowing and trying to rifle through potential scenarios from best case to worst, he follows Sanji silently until they reach where Chopper is ㅡ and Law stares at who the little reindeer is desperately trying to patch up.

It's you.

Part of him whispers harshly that this is par for the course, that he's worn out his luck in terms of keeping you safe ㅡ another notes that he's never seen you look more fragile.

"What happened." It's a demand as he takes in the bandages all over you, trying not to think about how most of them are already soaked with blood. Your blood.

He barely hears the explanation above the rising ringing in his ears, but he gathers enough to find it in himself to mentally curse your perchance for heroics. He's told you time and time again that your self-sacrificing attitude will get you into trouble, and now it has. (As if he isn't guilty of it too from time to time, but that's neither here nor there.)

"They need a transfusion," he says, kneels to gather you into his arms, trying not to focus on how limp you are. "I'll take it from here."

If Chopper protests, he doesn't stick around long enough to hear it. From the second he sets foot back on the Polar Tang, it's a blur.

Bandages are stripped from you and replaced, an IV of fluid in one arm, blood in the other. One of the defaults to joining the crew is letting him know blood type so he has it on hand, and he's never been more grateful to have it and less so that he needs to use it.

For the next few hours, Law hardly blinks, barely lets himself breathe ㅡ afraid that somewhere between, you'll slip from him. He can feel the cold circle of death around you, measuring, evaluating. Deciding if you go, or if you stay.

He wants you to stay. If there were ever a way to guarantee that you do, he'd do it now ㅡ but there isn't. So he sits, counts your breath (in, out. Up, down.), and waits.

And he talks.

He tells you that you're a pain, that you need to stop thinking so much of others before yourself, that a quality like that is only admirable until it means a grave instead of life. That you shouldn't be so cavalier with your time, that there are people who care about you, and what are they supposed to do if you die?

He means himself in that too. He's gotten accustomed to your presence, the way you've slotted your way into his routines and habits like you belong, and perhaps, were he a romantic, he'd say you always have. But he hardly has time for that, barely lets himself entertain it ㅡ too soft, too ideal, too good to be true. Always too much of something.

But he wants it, wants you ㅡ wonders if he'll even get the slimmest chance to tell you now. Law could tell you now, but he doesn't. He's afraid if he does, it'll tip the scales further from his favor and he'll undoubtedly lose you.

He can't do that.

It isn't fair ㅡ but when has the world ever felt fit to treat him in a way that could ever be seen as kind enough to be called fair?

[elsewhereuniversity]

Once again, some engineering undergraduates have overestimated their own prowess and summoned something when they should have been finishing their homework. The engineering TAs would like to take this moment to remind all the engineering majors that it is not a part of our jobs to track down whatever you summon and that you will fail any and all assignments that summon anything. As per university policy, we cannot grade summonings.

As a precaution, until further notice, the maker’s space is now closed to all students. Access will only be allowed under the direct supervision of a TA (good luck finding us) or a professor (assuming you can find one outside of office hours). All senior theses must be hypothetical - any practical theses proposals have been retroactively rescinded. Laboratory research is expected to continue as usual.

Safety is everyone’s responsibility when working with the unknown! Your TAs have prepared some helpful reminders to reduce the chances this happens again.

Complete the mandatory Elsewhere Lab Safety Training! If you do not complete this by the end of the quarter, things will befall you! Don’t test our patience!

Never work alone in the lab! Not only is this bad practice for most experiments, but two are better than one when it comes to stopping unusual lab problems.

Carry your iron rod, salt packet, and water bottle at all times. Replacement rods are available at the academic advising office, salt packets can be taken from the dining halls, and water bottles can be found at the athletics department.

All projects must be made out of iron. For iron alloys and composites, consult a TA, professor, or postdoc to see if the iron percentage is higher than the threshold.

Follow university policy regarding safety best practices in the classroom and around campus.

Bioengineers: only use samples acquired directly from other labs. Neither Elsewhere University nor the Engineering Department can guarantee that samples arrive uncontaminated (remember the Great Homunculi disaster?).

Electrical engineers: the efficacy of copper against the Fair Folk is still yet to be determined. Do not listen to the upperclassmen who tell you that copper works just as well as iron. This has been suspected to be a way of hazing new students and violated the university hazing policies.

Chemical engineers: use the fume hoods. Accidents happen much less often when working in a well-ventilated area.

Civil engineers: your steel pins may contain too little iron to be useful. Do not rely on them in a pinch. Yes, they look cool, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Your faculty advisors will be conducting iron checks to ensure you have enough iron on you at all times.

Mechanical engineers: how many times do we have to remind you that just because something could work doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to build it? Remember the machine that nonstop summoned things for weeks? And how hard that was to stop? Please don’t build that again, or anything like it.

And, as always, report accidents to the relevant safety authorities. The sooner the damage is evaluated, the sooner it can be contained and fixed.

On behalf of the entire department, we preemptively thank you for adjusting to this change in departmental policy.

Please understand that your midterm grades will be coming out late, as we are working hard to understand what was summoned and how: if anyone has information about it, please direct it to the Dean’s office.

- your engineering TAs

[justghoulythingz]

i want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you…

a drabble for anonymous taken from this prompt list.

pairing : ghoul/lucy maclean

word count : 846

warnings : some good old fashioned self-loathing, rope to restrain, mentions of sex. 18+, mdni

divider credit

It’s been centuries since Cooper Howard has gotten this involved with anyone.

He’s a bit like a stunted foal: clumsy yet reluctant to admit it; so used to being somewhere dark and grisly and detached that when the sun hitched to Lucy MacLean shines, it burns his irreversibly damaged skin. Gives it a kind of glow that he has to kill every time it threatens to bloom.

Self-inflicted wounds are easier to nurse. What’s the point of watering the dead garden his innards are overgrown with?

He winces when she touches him. That’s why her wrists need to be kept bound when he explores her. So she can’t feel how much she affects him. So she doesn’t get the wrong idea.

This ain’t love. Not that she has much experience with the romantic variety. He’s got plenty to keep close to the chest.

He gave himself to his Barb and she trampled him so far into the dirt that he might has well have been buried that fateful day.

The consequential marks don’t seem to bother Lucy. She’s a curious sort. One of the things Cooper admires about her. In the same breath, however, he doesn’t mind if for once she’d give it a proper fucking rest.

She moves too fast for him. He’s not entirely certain he wanted to budge in the first place.

Here she is with his face entombed in her neck, kissing and licking and nibbling as she opens herself to him. Thinking about how he would drag his nose along the slopes and valleys that comprise her if he could. How she deserves a man who’s whole and not whatever husk was violently spat out.

He can plainly see she yearns to reciprocate. Restless energy makes her grit her teeth and clench her thighs, squirming about as he gets to roam free. A low, long-winded hiss manages to escape between the soft, swollen lips he’s already branded.

“Tell me what y’want, angel wings. Use your big girl words. Y’had no trouble up t’this point.” He smiles against her throat, keeping her body caged. His voice cuts through like a saw hacking down a tree. Chop chop chop. Devastation as it crashes to the ground.

She sighs heavily and attempts to fix her posture. He’s very skilled at distracting. It’s not lost on her that he does so on purpose.

“Can you look at me first, Cooper?” she asks, chest heaving. He wonders how their hearts would feel galloping together. He doesn’t take his clothes off for her.

Some days, he wants to.

“Alright,” he begins, angling himself backward and resting one palm on the wall above her head. He can humor her. “I’m lookin’.”

And boy does he look. How can one not, with those doe eyes, large and all-encompassing like a lush forest of green and brown and gold?

His expression takes on that of a predator’s honing in on its prey. Except she’s taken hold of his hide and shredded it until it’s all mangled and indistinguishable. He feigns he has the upper hand. He feigns many things.

Lucy utilizes a few more moments to compose herself. Logic has been replaced with emotion. That requires a different type of effort to navigate.

Normally he would hurry her along, he don’t got all day. But really, he does. Why not spend it admiring a work of unabashed art that spawned from, according to him, the depths of hell?

“As much as I enjoy you getting your excess of me, I feel…” She exhales, shaky. “I feel like that excess has snatched away my enjoyment of you. I, I feel incomplete. It’s not as satisfactory as I know it could be.”

The old, tattered cowboy doesn’t answer. It’s difficult to swallow. She is expectant, but she’s also learned to lower said expectations when it comes to him. So she carries on of her own accord.

“What I want, Cooper, is you. All of you. I’m not satisfied with this half-baked sex we’ve been having. I want to pleasure you. Have you gasping for air and unable to think clearly.”

If she only knew.

“I want you to orgasm in my vagina and mouth and hand and, and wherever else, I don’t care! Except that’s really not true. I do care. I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you. And I want you in all the ways you haven’t let me have you. That’s what I want.”

She’s so technical sometimes that it usually makes him roll his eyes or laugh. Now, he doesn’t do either.

Instead, he grasps her chin and tilts it upward. He shoots her one last isolated once-over and seals their fate with a fervent kiss. The hand once above her travels below and deftly releases her from her binds. The rope falls to the dusty floor with a resounding thud.

“Best get t’work then,” Cooper murmurs against her cushioned mouth. Like a warm, forgiving blanket waiting to surround him, even after being away from home for months, years.

“‘Fore I change my mind.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This huge brick 1900 Craftsman in New Castle, Indiana is a fixer upper, but it has such unique features, it's well worth the price. 5bds, 4ba, reduced $10.1K to $289,900.

Large entrance hall with original butternut wood.

The parlor has attractive turquoise tiles on the fireplace and it has beautiful built-in bookcases.

The living room also has a fireplace, plus look at those beautiful columns between the living and dining rooms. And, the owners left an organ, too.

The dining room has double doors to the hall, wainscoting, and a built-in cabinet. They also left a piano. I love the swinging door to the kitchen- it has a little window just like a restaurant door.

I like the table over the radiator here in the informal dining room and it also has a beautiful built-in cabinet.

The kitchen has original cabinets, but one thing confuses me. It looks like they replaced some of the door fronts with plywood. Other than that, it's a wonderful kitchen.

The pantry has this original big honkin' freezer. I wonder if it still works. Even if it doesn't, it's cool and could be used for storage.

Nice remodeled powder room has the original medicine cabinet and a nice pedestal sink.

The finished basement has a rec room with a bar. It needs a floor and I love the stained glass ceiling, but I wonder if it can be refurbished.

There's also a full kitchen down here.

On the landing to the 2nd level is a delicate stained glass window.

At the top of the stairs is a large sitting area with a fireplace. The roof must've leaked b/c all the ceilings on this floor need repair.

The principal bedroom has lovely fireplace with mint green tiles.

The ceiling is damaged in here and it's also affected the wall, but look at the little cubby. Love the doors, too.

This bathroom between 2 bedrooms is original. Look at how beautiful the tile is, and that little font with the faucet in the wall. How unique is that? It has the original sconces and etched mirror on the medicine cabinet.

The bedrooms are so full of light.

The smaller room was used as a child's room.

Look at this bath- love the tile around the sink and the original heater. It has a built-in cabinet, but whatever that wire is hanging down, should be fixed b/c it's not going to pass inspection.

This is nice- a large 2nd level deck.

The attic is a very large finished space but the ceiling is water damaged.

This area need to be finished.

The beautiful outdoor wood features need to be repainted.

There's a 2 car garage, but not much of a yard b/c most of the space was blacktopped. The lot is .25 acre.

[lingering-paperwork]

The off string anatomy post.... it's real....

Ok so the description of the figures is Way way longer than I thought it would be so I would like to apologize (I literally had to write it over the corse of two days) there's a lot of stuff missing from this example but I Hope you can forgive me, I was a little lazy and wanted to get the most important things out of the way. So now that I'm done rambling about my rambling, please enjoy, more rambling!

(Below cut is headcanons and rambling galore!)

Fig. 1 & Fig. 2: appear three separate times on the sheet. So let's talk about their eyes first. Iterator eyes are the same as overseer cameras (probably higher quality but they're so similar it's hard to tell). There's a layer of privacy glass over their eyes, meaning that you probably couldn't see their pupils dilating unless you removed the plexiglass. (Which happens a lot for models off string, see: blank slate). If their eyes are damaged it's easy to just rip apart an overseer and replace the eye, it surprisingly doesn't seem to hurt them when you remove it. At least, it doesn't hurt the mechanical models, organic models might feel just a tad more pain when it comes to eye removal. There has also been documents of disorders in individuals with generalized anxiety, schizophrenia, and tic disorders, where one of their pupils gets stuck dilated (or undilated). This can also be fixed by replacing the eye, but it is likely to happen over and over in the same eye. (No replacing eyes does not get rid of their hallucinations and other disorders)

Fig. 3: nothing important to add here--it's an artificial olfactory organ (Organ?). THE SMELL SLAB!!!

Fig. 4: THIS is the thing I'm most excited to talk about However I feel like Figures, 8, 9, and 10 will be a better time to explain it. So for now: it's the mouth of the iterator. I call it a "proboscis" because to me that's the word that fits best! It rests coiled up underneath the face plate until needed and connects to the rest of the digestive tract (which is not very accurately drawn in this image, unfortunately.)

Fig. 5: this is something that acts like an iterators nose (breathing wise). They cant breathe from their mouth so they have large holes in the sides of their necks that basically allows them to do so. Organic iterators have more breath capacity under water than mechanical ones do, since they have larger lungs and more space in their chest for air. Basically a mechanical iterator would be more susceptible to drowning (gasp). The reason they need separate places to eat and breathe is: it just works better, plus there's less of a choking hazzard. (Also it looks cool, and things need Oxygen to exist :3)

Fig. 6: so I'm not sure if there should be a brain or neurons here, but since this is an au where iterators are basically just "guy hooked up to largest pc" I feel like a regular brain would make more sense. And for modified off string iterators, they can have their brain cage stuffed with neurons (as a treat /j). (Side note: started writting this and called an iterator skull a 'Brain Cage' so now it's real and that's what it's called, fight me over it) Anyways, The Brain Cage (tm) does unironically help connecting their mechanic parts, like eyes, ears, antenna, ect. To their brains.

Fig. 7: audio inputs. Ears. Whatever you'd like to call them. I guess in here I'll put the speaker as well--iterators speakers are found on the front of their puppet, usually high up on their chest. It is in the drawing, but the organs were more important to me when I drew it so Sadly the speaker is hidden under their lungs. :']

Fig. 8: this is the process of an iterator getting ready to eat (yay!!) Their neck muscles move aside for the proboscis, to which they either 'take a bite' of the food, or just rip it apart with their hands and put in their mouth (which is the easier option for them). The proboscis itself is made of a tough rubber, which allows food to go down easier, and makes 'chewing' easier as well. The act of an iterator chewing is just them spinning around their proboscis violently before bringing it back under their face plate to swallow, like a garbage disposal. Probably sounds like one too...

Fig. 9 & 10: Figure 9 shows the inside of the proboscis, which is basically just a Large amount of teeth. they're usually covering every wall of the proboscis for a good feet or two, in a circular pattern, until they slowly fade into the esophagus. Figure 10 shows what the end of the proboscis looks like, which is basically just a small 'beak' used for bitting, when necessary. Because of the way they're built, if they eat something like crumbs or fish flakes, it can get stuck on their teeth or on the side of their esophagus. If they eat enough of it, it could cause a build up and cause a blockage. Blockages can be removed but it's uncomfortable and gross to do so. (This makes me wonder if iterators can vomit? I mean they probably Could but it definitely wouldn't be comfortable or safe.)

Figure 11 is both figures at the bottom, so I'm going to split it into: talking about the mechanical iterator puppets and the organic iterator puppets.

Fig. 11a: (left model) mechanical iterator puppets have a very difficult time off string. Their organs are tightly packed into their carapace, making it hard to breathe and digest large amounts of food. Speaking of food, they also have a harder time growing, which leads to lots of growing pains and headaches. They can also overheat quite easily, (which could literally boil their organs, depending on the color of their carapace and their model type), their cooling systems are horrible, since they just bring in air from the outside which is obviously not very effective on hot days. though older models have an easier chance since they don't have as many fans as newer generations do. (I also put patterns on there because I have a headcanon about those as well, mainly that robotic models have more on their face and organic models have more on the rest of their body.)

Fig. 11b: (right model) organic iterator puppets have a much easier time off string, though they are more susceptible to things like overstimulation. They're also just more fragile over all, getting grave injuries like broken bones and deep wounds is particularly common for them. Though they do have an easier time growing to adapt to their diet, furthermore their organs have more space and are less sandwiched together. They don't have Vents like robotic puppets do, but they regulate their temperatures almost the same way we do. They also have a thin layer of furr on the backs of their puppets, that grows in the winter and shortens in the summer. (I forgot to mention this but: every iterators organs and eye color is what their system color is, so while it might not realistically be as vibrant as in the drawing, it would still be their system colors.) (Homestuck ahh headcanon ik)

Right, now, I've mentioned a lot about how iterators 'grow according to their diet' so I'll discuss that now. Iterators are naturally omnivores, much like their parent species, so their body can fully digest both plants and animals. However, if an iterator were to eat more than the other, their bodies get more used to the one they eat more commonly, and might entirely lose the ability to digest the other. This leads to a lot of changes in their personality and, of course, their size.

If they maintain a vegetarian diet, they'll grow malnourished and scrawny, becoming something similar to Saint in terms of speed and weakness. Though they do get more 'attuned with the earth' and might start desiring ascension, or seeking out echos. If they maintain a carnivorous diet, they'll get taller and stronger, think gourmand/artificer in terms of strength. However this does lead to a never ending desire for flesh, and might lead to the iterator forgetting almost everything about themselves, more worried about their next meal than who their actually killing. Last but not least: if they eat their own kind, they'll turn into an insane cannibalistic murderer. it takes around 10 cycles of eating straight meat/veggies for the effects stated to take place but, they only have to eat one member of their kind to kinda lose it a little.

AND IM DONE thank you for your time, lord knows I'll retcon this in the future, I hope you have a Wonderful day. Adios!

[aroflareon]

polygrigus aka convergent fakemon. more in depth explanation about its ability + the signature move below art

Polygrigus, very obviously based on POLYBIUS don't think that needs to be explained. The "distraction" effect is a new one, works like infatuation but doesn't rely on gender and has a higher chance to be distracted compared to being immobilized by love. Every move that got the ability effect also has every move, regardless if it's special or sound or dance or whatever, will now become a contact and replace what it previously was.(that means throat spray won't work on what used to be sound based moves)

It also has a signature move! Confining Wires, a special 65 bp ghost type move that deals contact damage . Its a trapping move, the main difference being it doesn't get countered by moves like u-turn. It's also kind of dual electric type? It hits electric & water pokemom for super effective but ground resists instead of being straight up immune.

also. don't really wanna get into it's full move set it would take a REALLY long time but this thing would learn

-all terrains

-all weathers

-all field(non hazard) effects like trick room or gravity

it DOESN'T learn any status moves like will o wisp or any hazards like spikes.

Also learns alot of psychic & steel type moves, obviously.

[sanctus-ingenium]

i answer your asks vol... 6?

This one made me actually consider how they balance the humours beyond just a simply "they scour it out". Because sometimes a holy beast gets 'sick' and it's not necessarily related to any sort of tissue growth, it's more often a mechanical fault and because the beast is considered to be alive, he is then therefore 'sick'. So how do we deal with this? An enginesmith will make the necessary repairs, but sometimes the sickness is related to environmental conditions. The four humours are arranged on a scale like this:

A mechanical fault associated with being too hot and dry could be something like a lack of lubrication on moving machine parts. So this would be considered the reason for a production of yellow bile (excess of yellow bile, btw, was what Pantera was diagnosed with on his last outing). Whether or not the bile is literal or more symbolic depends on the case. Anyway this was the reason Pantera is associated with fire (originally, when I was designing them all) and Leun, diametrically opposite, is associated with phlegm, water, acid, etc.

But anyway, the way to fix these imbalances in hot/cold/wet/dry is to simply reduce whichever one is excessive. In practice, keeping holy beasts maintained even when they're not out on a crusade is a full time job for an army of workers, where the atmospheric conditions need to be as neutral as possible. Too wet and you've got rust, too dry and the metal fatigues, to hot and it might warp and break, too cold and the joints won't fit properly, etc etc. Although the enginesmiths view this through a lens of The Four Humours, it's also just good practice to try to keep things balanced.

Btw while they do cure an excess of blood by bleeding the holy beast, they don't make leeches big enough :'(

-

There are illustrated representations of dragons that are pretty traditionally dragony (typically a winged serpent with many tails representing the stinging tendrils). These are added to drawings and art as a catch-all symbol for a conscious and targeted Evil. The laity, which is very devout, is unlikely to associate dragons with resistance - dragons cause a lot of damage too, and those stinging barbs will kill you just from the trauma of the impalement before the venom even has a chance to (unless you just get grazed, in which case.. the venom will paralyse you. then kill you)

So active rebellions/civil wars/wars of succession have occurred many times. The subjugated Midaean nation/territory (depending on who you ask) rallies around their beloved Saint Lycaon, a wolf. Flags and signs depicting a wolf devouring a crocodile/a lion/whatever holy beast currently tops the hierarchy of the church would be more likely. Rebellion itself is rarely black and white and as neat as picking a symbol the church hates. It is more likely people would pick a symbol that they love. Outside of Midea, the Mezian empire might not be at its peak but it also has not given its own citizens and laity a reason to take up arms against it.

at the start of the story, at least

-

awesome questions thank you @curious-sootball !

So the nerve cords inside the vertebrae are artificial, but they still perform the same physiological function as a real spinal column. They interface with a knight's dialogue. This produces an incredible amount of heat - this is why the spines are often exposed, even though that might be a point of vulnerability. The spinous processes in particular are very effective heat sinks.

But the tail? In most cases we don't need the tail, really. The spinal column ends at the base of the pelvis. The tail is cropped for most beasts on purpose - we don't need this thing dangling around and becoming entangled, and it has no machinery around it to act as replacement muscles so it couldn't move even if they wanted it to. Krokodilos's tail is the exception and it's just extremely heavy for not much pay off. That's a lot of additional engines we gotta maintain.

So the tail tends to be abandoned. The bones are kept of course but not mounted on the chassis where they're not needed. With no nerve cord running through them they don't run hot either so they won't disperse heat all that well.

Now for replacing bones... they don't. The bones that exist in the chassis are the bare minimum needed to perform the required functions - basic movement. They don't have ribs, they often don't have phalanges. A skull is there to complete the nerve cord - but all you need of that skull is the occipital bone. Nothing more.

If they break a leg, it might be repaired using screw and plate fixation. The bone may deign to knit together (enginesmiths swear that they don't allow tissue growth ever.. but sometimes you need some periosteum. Don't tell the bishops). But if it gets crushed? That's the holy beast done, scrap heap time. The majority of all holy beasts that have ever existed have already broken down and been decommissioned at the start of this story - we only have seven left (eight if you count krokodilos). Krokodilos is an unusual case because he is not dead, so they can't just hold a state funeral and add his heart engine block to the big hall of old hearts in the cathedral. He's sleeping.

But he's the exception. Take Saint Guinefort - dead as a doornail. He had a full funeral, his heart was put in the hall and his body was [redacted] like they do with all dead holy beasts. And then he was [redacted] and now our pal "Sir Victory" with the metal arm uses him as Nosewyse. Circle of life.

I think sidecar motorcycle is a pretty apt way of looking at him lmao. You don't wanna know how many people he's cooked.

-

Hey there! So I know I've mentioned they are similar to pterosaurs but they are not related to them at all. In fact they are cetaceans :) Later art I did of them plays up the mammal traits a bit more. Check out these nipples

However it is a fact that they are not closely related to modern cetaceans - as in, they did not evolve from modern whales and dolphins, but belong to a side branch that diverged relatively early, around the same time dragons were leaving the water for the skies. That art is quite old too, from before I kind of nailed it all down, so if I drew them now I would remove the more derived traits (i.e the single blowhole, the tail flukes, etc) and tidy it up a little. They diverged from the lineage that would become modern whales before the pelvic limbs were lost. I originally depict them having the crowbar-like claws on their feet to lever skin parasites off the dragon, but i think they are more likely to not use their feet much at all, and are more likely to use their single huge beak-like tooth to do the job instead. They cannot walk on flat surfaces.

-

Only insects and, specifically, winged insects :) I know it would be really cool to have various other giant arthropods but milennia ago, when they crossed into Thera for the first time, insects were the only fliers. And there is no other way to get over the mountain range quickly enough for it not to kill you. The mountain range in which the endless city sits is completely and 100% devoid of life. A journey on foot for a tiny bug would be next to impossible - they are more likely to starve or simply turn around and go back to where the food is.

The winged insects, otoh, can cross the range in a day or less, if the breeze is flowing right. And they would find plants already there in Thera - also solely wind-dispersed species from the previous time the mountains arrived and linked the world with Earth. The insects didn't really come by choice, sometimes the wind just blows the wrong way, but they definitely got lucky.

There are wingless insects in Thera today but only because they lost that trait over time (like ants or larviform female beetles). They have managed to colonise every reasonable habitat, including the sea (though the sea is not very salty) and have developed into a lot of very strange forms which might be unrecognisable to us. But a lot of them just got bigger and smarter.

This time round, in the period of time the story is set (early 1900s on earth), the mountains appeared and new animals crossed over who were not insects. Birds have become invasive in Thera, happily taking advantage of the smaller insect species who are completely unprepared for this new threat. There are also some wind-dispersed spiders hanging out now.

EDIT: oh i forgor the parasites on the flying insects that first colonised thera... yes they would have mites and horsehair worms and things of that nature

[phantomrose96]

Yknow I don't think I've... talked about the absolute smorgasbord of shit what's gone wrong with my condo since I moved in so

day 0 - hadn't moved in yet, was just moving items over, turned the sink on for just a moment. turns out the tube feeding into the sink faucet was full of holes (how???) and this caused a never-ending leak under the sink. the standing water rotted the baseboard under the sink

still day 0 - said leak and water accrual dripped down and damaged downstairs neighbor's ceiling ($$$). she has to call me to tell me about it.

I have to get a plumber out there next day (still not living there yet! empty place! I have to take off work). While waiting for plumber, I discover heat's not working.

Go to basement to investigate boiler. Seller didn't fix the issue they claimed they fixed.

Plumber looks at sink. Declares it full of holes. Says he can come back in a few days to fix it.

(Plumber postpones, then flakes. I chase down a different plumber.)

Plumber 2 says the issue is with the garbage disposal, not the faucet. Can come back x days later to work on that, and the boiler.

Plumber 2 comes back x days later (I have to take off work again), says "oh the disposal was messed up but also the faucet has holes." Says he can come back maybe the NEXT day with a new faucet

Oh also the smoke detector in the back hall is low battery beeping and I don't have a battery for it. It's constant, every minute on the minute.

I bike to a hardware store and buy a faucet and a battery ($$). Get lost on the way home. (All of this back and forth is by bike. I live in the city and do not have a car.)

Plumber replaces the faucet ($$). I replace the smoke detector battery but it's still beeping. Dozens of more stupid minutes later of going up and down and up and down stairs and dragging my big stupid ladder around, I realize it's the carbon monoxide detector which is hidden behind the door I need to open to even get to the back hallway.

Plumber services the boiler ($$$)

I move in. I have a less than great time emptying everything from my apartment, which doesn't have plumbing issues. On a bad foot to start.

Travel for Christmas. Come back. Now the first floor back-hall smoke detector is beeping. (At least I have a fucking battery. Get my big stupid ladder down the back hall, knock every wall on the way down, and replace that battery).

I get first month's heating bill (I'd been living there for 10 days if even.) $334. Jesus christ. Likely due to the boiler issue.

Electricity goes out for the evening, same day as I get this bill from the gas and electric company, because fuck you I guess.

Homeowners insurance log in doesn't work. I haven't received my bill, which I need to pay.

Radiators bang in the middle of the night. Something something about them being old or not level or full of ghosts. Cool I don't need to sleep or whatever.

I've received no correspondence from the bank about my first mortgage payment. It'll be due Jan 1st, which is a holiday, so I reach out early. They say it's in the mail.

I monitor my mail every day. I receive no mail. I contact again. I reach out to my old apartment building in case it's there (they can't tell me). I sign up for a bank account with them online. I jump through various hoops to discover the bank has my address wrong. The address of the place the mortgage is on...

They had the mortgage address right. They had my home address as identical to the mortgage address but with one number missing. No one noticed. They'd been sending my stuff to a non-existent address, or the back of a college warehouse, I haven't quite figured it out.

I jump through more hoops to pay my mortgage payment with a check in the mail (I had to go buy stamps and an envelope) (late, but they assure me there's no penalty, but are you sure.)

^This has all been about 2 weeks. btw.

(I get a therapist, and find my way to being seen by a psychiatrist, which I guess is good but jesus is it $$$. Still figuring out how to use my stupid HSA)

People on floor 1 move out. They've got contractors in constantly renovating the place top to bottom. I get all their paint fumes.

Sound proofing doesn't exist, turns out. I hear my downstairs neighbors' conversations. I hear their tv. I hear street conversations. One night it was pouring rain and I was woken up by the sound of something banging against the house. Like genuinely banging. I go outside and investigate - it's a car idling with their windshield wipers going. Windshield wipers. Why would that be audible. Walls made of paper.

Floor 1 contactors leave the back door open one night. Luckily I wasn't storing anything in the back hall and had the door to my interior locked.

I receive my next month's heating bill. $689. I call the gas company and they shrug. I call the plumber and he shrugs. I turn the heat way down cuz I don't know. I dunno. Something's wrong with the boiler but it just got serviced so I dunno. I have to call someone else.

Speak of the devil, cones appear immediately outside my building declaring there's going to be gas line work. For a month. They start with the jackhammers at 8am every weekday. It's gonna be a month. I miss the windshield wipers.

We have a weekend of arctic freeze. -30F windchill. I go down to the basement Sunday morning to do laundry. Floor 1 contractors have outdone themselves by leaving a window open. Pipe had burst in floor 1 and was pouring water down into the basement, totally flooded.

I have to call the plumber, and flag the Floor 2 people about it and they at least find the master water shutoff. I'm dealing with the plumber and I have no water for half the day and no laundry for me.

I want to lie down in a marsh for a bit.

[coffeeghoulie]

well you KNOW im gonna come in here and ask for mountrain. whatever your heart desires so long as theyre disgustingly in love abt it ♡

i gotchu <3 it's been a Hot Minute since I've written mountrain, hopefully this is sappy enough lmao

Winter peeks around the corner, temperatures dropping with the leaves, everything dreary and grey before the first inevitable snowfall covers the dead vegetation, brown grass and barren trees. Mountain slips out of bed and makes the trek down to his greenhouse every morning, long before the sun rises, to make sure his plants, his babies, are ready before the snow chokes the life out of them.

He can feel the coldspell incoming, feels it in the way the his joints start aching, deep in the bone. He swallows hard, looking at the work he has in front of him. The glass panels need to be inspected for damage, replaced and insulated. The pipes need to be drained, so they don't freeze and burst. All of his fragile plants need to be covered and brought inside. The whole building needs to be cleaned, top to bottom, including his makeshift nest area in the back corner.

It's necessary work, Mountain knows it, has done it every fall for years. It still doesn't mean he likes doing it. It's, for lack of a better term, a mountain of work. But it has to get done. So Mountain squares his shoulders in the pre-dawn darkness and gets to work.

He loses himself in it, doing his best to ignore his sore joints as he hauls potted plants inside, checking over each leaf and stem for disease. He works, making countless trips in and out of the freezing air as the sun starts peeking out over the treeline, tinging the dark sky with pinks and oranges, the budding light softening the florescents that light the greenhouse.

It's quiet work, almost meditative, which means he jumps nearly a foot off of the ground when someone knocks at the door. Mountain spins, very nearly dropping the potted petunias he's hauling in. His heartrate calms as he realizes it's his mate, waving at him through the glass. He smiles, warmth spreading in his chest, gesturing for Rain to come in.

Rain slips into the greenhouse, latching the door behind him. He's got two large thermoses tucked under his arms, and Mountain groans in appreciation, striding over to his mate and taking the thermos Rain offers to him.

"G'morning, sunflower," Rain says, voice sticky with sleep. He's clearly just woken up, pulled on one of Mountain's sweatshirts, the hem coming down to his mid thigh, over his pajamas and made the journey out to the greenhouse in the cold November morning just to bring him tea.

"Morning, tadpole," Mountain says, cupping Rain's jaw with a big hand, leaning down to steal a kiss from his mate. His skin is cool to the touch, and Mountain tries to push his body heat into his mate like a fire ghoul would.

Rain hums, shivering as Mountain's pinkie brushes against his uppermost gill. "Bed was cold," he whispers against Mountain's lips. "You'd been gone so long, figured you might like something hot to drink."

Mountain pulls back, reluctantly letting go of his mate's face to crack open the thermos. He's hit with the herbal scent of his favorite tea, steaming up and curling around him. He takes a sip, eyes fluttering shut as the taste hits him.

"I love you, tadpole," Mountain says, groaning as he greedily drinks down his preferred green tea blend, the one he adds mint to. Rain knows just how he likes his tea, two spoons of honey from the hives he keeps.

Rain grins, flashing his serrated, shark like teeth before taking a swig from his own thermos, the smell of chai drifting from his. "Love you too, Mount," he says, leaning in to nuzzle against his shoulder, not quite awake enough to fuss over the dirt that always, inevitably, ends up caked on Mountain's clothes while he works.

Mountain sets down the thermos, turning back to the water ghoul and wrapping his arms around his waist. Rain smiles wider, looping his arms around Mountain's neck, standing up on his tiptoes to do so. "Hey, baby," Rain laughs. "What's up with you?"

He sighs, Rain's smile contagious. Mountain ducks down and presses a kiss between Rain's seaglass horns. "So glad I met you," he whispers against the blue black waves of his hair, mussed from sleep.

Rain nods minutely. "Me too."

The world shrinks until it's just the two of them, no cold bed, no ever-looming snow. They stand there, basking in the warm humidity of the greenhouse and each other's presence. Everything smells of green tea and plant life and rich, warm earth.

Eventually, Rain pulls back. "It's cold, sunflower, how are your hands holding up?"

Mountain makes a noncommittal noise, but Rain levels him with a glare, and his shoulders slump. "A little stiff," he admits, removing one hand from Rain's slight waist, examining the redness at his knuckles, wind-whipped and raw.

Rain hums, snatching Mountain's hand in between his own. "Oh, baby, that looks like it hurts," he says, rubbing his thumb over his tender knuckles. "I know you've got that balm somewhere, the one with the aloe and the calendula?"

"It's back by my bed," Mountain says. "I'll put some on when I've finished this."

"Nope." Rain chuckles, slipping out of Mountain's grasp and rummaging through the cabinet near Mountain's personal corner. "You've been at this for hours, sunflower, we're putting some of that on, and we're going to take a cuddle break, and then I will help you get the greenhouse finished, okay?"

Mountain smiles as Rain returns with the tin of balm, already opening it and taking a dollop of it. "Alright, tadpole."

Rain takes his hands, rubbing the ointment into Mountain's knuckles, tenderly caressing the damaged skin. He works in silence, before capping the balm and taking Mountain by the hand, leading him back to the daybed he keeps in the corner.

Mountain kicks off his muddy boots before laying down, opening his arms for his mate. Rain follows suit, unlacing his boots before tucking himself into the crook of Mountain's arm, snuggling into the earth ghoul's embrace.

"I love you," Rain whispers, eyes slipping shut.

Mountain yawns, long and low. "I love you too."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Riddle me this, Rollo. How mad would you be if I accidentally set the shared kitchen on fire with a ramen packet? ..I may have forgot i was cooking and left it on the stove. ..for a half hour." ~ (based off a real experience of mine <3 ((i should never be trusted with a stove again))

UHHHHH... Concern????? ???? ??? ? ? ????😅 I'm glad you're safe after that incident though, Anon! Malewife Rollo cooking and cleaning for us, that's the dream/j

Like Fire, Hellfire.

Concern immediately registered on his face. His eyebrows drew together, creasing the space between them. His lips twisted into a disapproving frown before ripping open and letting loose a harsh bark.

"You fool!"

Rollo darted past you and into your kitchen, making a beeline for the stove. As you had confessed, a small yet sizable fire had consumed the far most wall, setting ragged curtains and rickety wood ablaze. Stray embers and heat fanned him as he approached, undaunted by the flames.

“R-Rollo-senpai?!” you called from the doorframe. “What are you doing? Get away from there, you’ll hurt yourself…!”

He glared at you from over his shoulder. “Who is to correct your grievous error, if not I?"

Rollo closed a hand around his wrist—a pained expression rising up. The fire was too large to be stamped out through regular means. If he didn't act fast, the flames would consume the entire building and all life within it.

The only option he had to salvage this situation was…

What I wasn’t able to do all those years back.

Rollo swallowed thickly and raised a hand. His command came loud and stern. "Begone from my sight."

The jewel set in his ring let loose a flash of cooling light. A great pillar of water crashed down upon the raging fire, strong splashback sending you hurtling back a few steps. Roaring filled your ears and dissipated just as quickly--and when you blinked again, the magical water was gone, leaving behind a broken scene ravaged by black.

The fire, extinguished.

Whoa... That's raw power right there. Sometimes you forgot just how devastating of a mage Rollo was--and the reminder of that made you shudder.

Rollo sighed and casually dusted off his shoulder, banishing an invisible fleck of ash from himself. "Let's see what the damage is."

He brisky made his way over to the stove with you trailing behind nervously. Using his handkerchief, Rollo removed the lid from the pot sitting on a burner. Lying inside was a dry lump of noodles, charred beyond belief.

Rollo replaced the lid. His facial features twitched imperceptibly as he turned his attention to you, tone icy. "How irresponsible must you be to leave food on the stove unattended to?! Fire is not an element to be trifled with!!"

His mouth pursed into a line. "It's a miracle that you haven't burned down this hovel by now."

"Eheheh... Oops?"

He found no humor in the giggle and the light-hearted shrug that accompanied it. Folding his arms, he tapped one finger. "... What do you intend to do now?"

"There's always the cafeteria," you said sheepishly.

“Its offerings are surely more healthy than whatever it was you were about to ingest. Instant ramen has enough sodium in it to kill a baby goat,” Rollo sniffed. “What of this mess you've made of your living quarters?" He gestured to their destroyed surroundings.

"You could just put it back together with magic, right? I saw that amazing spell you pulled off just now. It should be no problem for you!”

He sent you a withering look. "And reward your reckless behavior?! I've already expended enough of my time and energy on you—against my better judgment. Magic is not something to wield so flippantly!!”

“Boo, you’re no fun!”

“There is nothing ‘fun’ about this!!” Rollo retorted. Again, he had his handkerchief at his mouth, masking his open disgust. “It is about time that you assume responsibility for your own actions.”

He casted one last glare at the ashen wasteland around him. A kitchen forever scarred, the damage scorching deep.

This destruction, fun? Claimed by hellish flames, fun?

His chest throbbed.

Rollo clamped his handkerchief down even harder, crumpling the moon and the stars upon it. His breathes quickened, yet his next words were forced into an eerie calm.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see myself out. Enjoy your… meal.”

[chloecherrysip]

all the pain will change into a memory of when we were amazing (mario & luigi-centric post-movie fic, part 1!)

(My weekend got a little busier than I was expecting, but I was still DETERMINED to get this up today and hey, I succeeded!!! I will eventually post an AO3 version as well, so if you'd like to wait for that, you can (and I will of course link it here), but sharing on tumblr is just a little easier for me to start out with. :)

Remember that this is just the first part and there will be at least two or three more coming soon!! Like I've already said in other posts, this fic has become SO LONG that it needs to be split up a little just for ease of reading. The title comes from the song Casey by Darren Hayes, which for the record, is a song about siblings and really fits movie!verse Mario & Luigi's relationship, in my eyes. Also, just so you know, this part (and only this part) has some Mario/Peach moments as well! I hope you enjoy!)

+

It took roughly eleven hours to put Brooklyn back together. 

Not to how it was before, just to be clear. Not even close. Just enough that you could no longer tell right away that it had been subjected to a catastrophic tear between dimensions or alternate realities or whatever the two worlds were in relation to one another — who even knew? Instead, it looked more like it had suffered a few earthquakes in quick succession, or a hurricane closely followed by a tornado for good measure. Y’know, normal disasters.

It would no doubt require weeks of work to fix the cracked roads, replace all the crushed cars, reassemble the shopfronts enough to reopen and finally, finally get rid of all the black chunks of molten rock and huge mushroom stalks that were still being found in the strangest crevices and alleyways. But there was a lot to be extremely grateful for too. It was an outright miracle that Bowser’s airship had happened to crash down into the empty construction site mere minutes before the workers were scheduled to get started, somehow missing all occupied buildings. Everyone on the block was unhurt and accounted for, and they all still had a mostly-intact place to sleep that night. That, Mario reasoned, was more than good enough for now.

He’d jumped headfirst into helping with the emergency cleanup efforts as best he could, of course. It was the very least he could do after unintentionally causing the whole mess to begin with, and Luigi had jumped right in alongside him, ready to go. The star had worn off  — even if Mario was still seeing glimmering afterimages of rainbows in the corners of his eyes every time he blinked — but it seemed like there were some lingering aftereffects. They felt better than ever, every injury down to the slightest bruise or cut completely healed, an overflow of joyful energy humming pleasantly all through his core. Mario guessed it was some kinda mixture of leftover magic and his own adrenaline and relief, which probably could have kept him going strong for a long time all on its own. They’d actually made it home. They’d seen their parents and family again. His brother was back within arm's reach, smiling and solidly warm and safe. How could he not feel like he was on top of the world?

So they’d spent the rest of the day working with neighbors to clear debris and shattered glass, move cars safely out of the way that were too crushed to move on their own any longer, nail up boards to cover gaps where windows once were. There were various damaged water fixtures and pipes that desperately needed some TLC before they came entirely undone and caused more damage (thankfully, Mario knew two talented plumbers who were more than up to the task). And of course, there was the not-so-small matter of rounding up all of Bowser’s minions and stuffing them back through the pipe before they snuck further into the city and started causing mass chaos. Most of that went smoothly, thankfully (other than one notable incident of some Koopas messing around at a bowling alley and accidentally getting stuck in the ball return). The magician in the blue robe, the one with the wand, had vanished entirely, though. Luigi had been the first one to notice, nervously mentioning that he’d seemed important, like a second-in-command to Bowser. Mario didn’t like that one bit, but Peach reassured him that they would stay vigilant.

Speaking of Peach, she’d taken charge of the chaotic situation right away, her leadership skills shining bright in a way that left Mario quietly in awe. She’d personally overseen Bowser’s transfer and imprisonment back in the Mushroom Kingdom while also coordinating efforts on both sides of the warp pipe, DK and Toad providing support as they all passed back and forth between worlds several times throughout the day, transporting as much of Bowser’s broken-up airship back to where it came from as possible. Toad Town was still a mess from the invasion as well, and many of the Toads who’d evacuated needed to be helped back from the forests. Mario had only spent a little time there, but thinking about such a lively, cheerful place in abandoned disarray troubled him. He considered going back for a little while to help out there too, just to make sure everyone got home safe.

But the familiar warp pipe loomed before them, and Luigi’s smile strained. Mario, hand lightly pressed to his brother’s back, registered the sudden, new tenseness, the way his breathing became shallower, despite his best efforts to not let it show. And there was Mario’s answer. He wouldn’t put Luigi through that again, not so soon, and if Luigi wasn’t going, Mario wasn’t going — end of story. The thought of being an entire world away from him after everything they’d just struggled through, even briefly, was too much to handle. All day, that uneasiness had hung around him, the one wrinkle in his light-as-air happiness and boundless energy. He hadn’t even liked Luigi being out of his sight for too long as they worked on the cleanup, which he fully knew was silly and unreasonable. That was why he'd never breathed a word of the feeling outload, even when the discomfort settled in heavily like a bad stomachache.

It'll get better once a little more time goes by, Mario kept insisting to himself with a sure, stubborn forcefulness. What's there to be worried about? We made it, both of us. We're together. Everything's gonna be okay. It really is.

“Don’t worry! We’ve got it all under control,” Peach reassured him. “I promise. The Kongs are helping, and so are the penguins from the Ice Kingdom. We’re going to work with them to rebuild their castle as well. On the bright side, I think our alliances will be much, much stronger after this mess.” 

“Are ya sure?” Mario couldn’t help but press, interlacing his fingers tightly. “I dunno, I just feel like I need to do something. If it wasn’t for you, all of you, I wouldn’t have gotten to Luigi in time.”

“Oh, and like you didn’t do even more to help us?” She gave the brim of his cap a flick that was somehow both playful and graceful. “Mario, you and your brother stopped Bowser in his tracks. Both of our worlds are safe from him now because of you two. If anything, we owe you! Toad was already talking about organizing a parade, or giving you both a chest of gold coins!”

“What? No, no, who needs all that?” Mario insisted, his face flushing a little. “Besides, those coins won’t even fit in my wallet! There probably isn’t an exchange rate or anything here for ‘em. Just my luck.”

“I thought as much.” She placed a fingertip to her pursed lips, tapping lightly as she pondered. “What about a house?” 

“A whole house!?” Mario nearly choked on the air. “For free?”

Peach gave him an odd look and a shrug, as though it was perfectly reasonable in her world to offer someone she’d just met a few days ago real estate with absolutely no strings attached. “Why not? You and Luigi are always going to be known as heroes in the Mushroom Kingdom, you do realize. It's the least we could do. But…” She thought in silence for a moment longer and then smiled, the curve of it a little heavier, more subdued. “A house doesn’t do much if no one will be living in it, huh?”

Mario considered that. Across the sewer room, the black of the warp pipe’s insides spread out behind Peach, vast and unending. “That’s…yeah, that’s true,” he said, his shoulders sinking a bit. “For now, don’t worry about doing anything for us, all right?” He swallowed around a strange, new lump in his throat. “Before anything else happens, I just really need to make sure my family’s all right.”

Peach nodded. “And I need to make sure mine is too,” she said, voice warm with understanding.

She shot a meaningful glance over Mario’s head, and he followed her gaze to where Toad and Luigi were sitting off to the side. Toad was excitedly talking, making big, bombastic gestures with his pan as though he was reenacting something. Luigi, for his part, looked a little bewildered but interested, following along as best as he could manage with lots of nodding. The strain in Mario’s chest eased.

“But you’ll both visit before too long, right?” Peach brought his attention back to her, her tone pointed. “There’s still plenty of beautiful places to see in our world. We barely scratched the surface! But we can start with a nice cup of tea in the castle, of course.”

Mario couldn’t help but smile widely. “Definitely,” he said. “And besides, I already made a promise to DK before he headed back. Me and my “stupid overalls” have to give him a rematch at some point. C’mon, how can I pass up a chance to kick his furry butt all over again?”

“And I want to come back and visit this world again too!” She added excitedly. “I want to know more about the bowling we saw, and video games, and — what did you call that one thing? A calzone? — and well, everything!”

Mario laughed outright. “Sure, come back anytime! Luigi and me know allll the best spots in Brooklyn like the backs of our hands. With us, you’ll never have a bad time, guaranteed.”

Some bright, delighted mischief flashed in Peach’s eyes. “And besides,” she said, “your mom said she would show me some of your baby pictures next time. I have to see that because I can’t imagine you without a mustache, honestly. It just doesn’t seem possible.” 

Mario’s laughter got less boisterous and much more strained in a big hurry. “Right, right,” he said, voice cracking. “Gotta remember to, heh, burn some of those before then.”

“Don’t you dare!” 

With more than a little reluctance, she waved over at Toad, signaling that it was time for them to say goodbye. 

“I’ve got to get out of this wedding dress already,” she joked, holding up the skirt so Mario could clearly see all the tears and scorch-marks and dark staining, all intermingled with white and glittering pink. On the top, she was wearing a new, light pink “I LOVE NY” shirt from a cheap souvenir store; Luigi had actually been the one to get it for her, having noticed that she was spending a lot of time standing out in the sun with her shoulders uncovered. At some point along the way, she'd also tied up her blonde hair in a messy ponytail to keep it out of the way. “What a disaster, huh?”

Mario honestly thought that she looked beautiful. But there was no way he could say that, and he also didn’t want to agree because that sounded rude. Thankfully, he had only had a few more seconds of mounting internal panic left to go on that subject before Toad and Luigi came over.

“Your brother’s just as cool as you are, Mario!” Toad brightly announced out of the blue, which in turn made Luigi jolt and blush behind him. “But I should have guessed! You guys are the SUPER Mario Brothers, after all!” 

“Hey, I coulda told you that a lot sooner!” Mario grabbed Luigi around the middle with one arm and squeezed tight, enough to make his brother wriggle with a hoarse, surprised laugh. “He’s always got my back!”

“Hey, hey, I’m flattered, but there’s no way I’m as cool as Mario,” Luigi insisted, grabbing and squeezing Mario right back, playfully poking at his stomach. “Are ya kidding? This is the best guy in the world, c’mon! No contest!”

"You c'mon! Who came up with using a manhole cover as a shield out of the blue, huh?” 

Luigi blinked a few times and then ducked his head down with a big, bashful grin. “Okay, maybe that was me.”

“Exactly.” He smushed his brother’s cap, ruffling his hair underneath. “What were you guys talking about, anyway?”

“Ohohoho, wouldn’t you like to know,” Toad insisted right away with a thick air of secrecy. He mimed locking his mouth with a key and then tossing it away, winking in Luigi's direction. “No need to be jealous, Mario. I can have two best friends.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mario replied dryly.

“It was no big deal, r-really!” Luigi backed Toad up, a little too loudly. His eyes looked somewhat glassy, as though he was teetering on the verge of tears, but when Mario met his gaze full-on, worried all of a sudden, his brother smiled back, big and sincere and seemingly very happy. “We’re all good! Better than good! We’re great!”

Peach stepped forward, then. “You really made a difference when it counted most, Luigi,” she said warmly, taking one of his hands in her own and patting it. “Thank you again for that. I know you didn’t see the best our world has to offer, but I hope you’ll give us another chance soon enough.” 

Luigi, having stiffened a little at her touch out of sheer surprise, relaxed again. “Of course, Peach — I mean, Princess Peach. Your highness? Ma’am!” He gave her a salute with the other hand, for some reason. “I, uh, definitely appreciate it.” 

She let go of him and reached for Mario’s hand in turn. Out of the blue, he thought about kissing the back of it — she was a princess, right? Wasn’t that what people did in all the fairytale books? — but that was a silly idea, stupid enough to make the back of his neck burn from embarrassment. Instead, he simply held onto her tight for a long moment, reflecting her sweet smile back at her, his heart pleasantly fluttering.

Further down, Toad grabbed one of Mario’s legs and one of Luigi’s legs in both arms and hugged them fiercely at the same time, sniffling a little. They gave his head a few soft pats in return (and winced when he loudly blew his nose into their overalls). 

“See you around, Mustache,” Peach said softly. She took a small step backwards towards the pipe but didn’t let go of him, their arms stretching out further. “And don’t forget what we talked about,” she added after a beat, delicate, maybe even the tiniest bit hopeful. “What I offered…it’s always on the table, if you ever do decide you want it.” 

“I won’t forget,” he said in return, softer too. “Stay safe.” 

She squeezed his hand one last time, and then she and Toad were gone. The warp pipe’s signature sound bounced off the impossibly high walls of the room they were in until it was just a tiny echo. Mario took a deep breath. He turned to find Luigi beaming at him, eyebrows raised high and wiggling a little at the ends.

"Shut up," he sighed.

“What!? I didn’t even say anything!” Luigi insisted, even as he continued to grin.

“Yes, you did. I can read your mind.” Even Mario’s sternest do NOT go there, I’m serious look could never do much when Luigi was ready to do some ruthless teasing, but he tried it anyway as they started to trudge towards the stairwell at a much slower pace then when they’d first come down it. When had he started to feel so tired? A big yawn fought its way up his throat before he could continue. “I just met her! We’re friends. That’s all there is to it, thank you and goodnight.”

“Look, you can't prove a thing, but if I was saying something, well, I'd start with the way she was looking at you.” Luigi whistled. Mario pulled down the brim of his cap, if only to hide the sudden warmth creeping into his face a little better.  “She certainly seems like a princess with good taste, y’know?”

“All right, all right. Ya done?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not! She’s already got a dress too, which is really convenient. After all, weddings are expensive—”

“Stop, Lu. You better not breathe a word of this back home! Cause you’re gonna get Ma and Dad all riled up too and then I’ll never hear the end of it."

“Are ya serious!? Oh, my poor, sweet, naïve Mario. They already smelled the blood in the water at least five hours back. They were talking about little blonde grandkids when you were in the bathroom and everything.” 

At least the long trek ahead of them out of the sewers would give Mario time for his face to cool down to a normal temperature again. “Great, great, just what I need,” he grumbled. “Now I gotta find a princess for you to get the heat off me.”

“W-What!?” Luigi sputtered. “I mean, I wish. But a kingdom only has one princess, right? And you’re the lucky guy.” 

“There wasn’t just one kingdom,” Mario mused. He was climbing the stairs by then, metal clanging with each step. “I betcha all the money I have that if I went looking around long enough over there, I could find a real cute royal out there who has a thing for the color green.”

He reached behind him to give Luigi’s shoulder a playful shove, only for his hand to meet nothing but air. Turning fully, he saw that his brother was moving a lot slower than he’d expected. He was still at the bottom of the stairs, clinging to the railing and blinking furiously, his gaze focused on nothing in particular. 

“Luigi?” Mario asked hesitantly. “You good?”

Luigi perked up at that and gave a thumbs-up. “A-okay!” He chirped, starting to climb. “I just — whew. I’m a little, uh, dizzy. It feels like that crazy star hung around for a while, eh? Like, we weren’t super-powered anymore, but nothing hurt, and I still had tons of energy to do whatever I wanted. But now…”

“Yeah, I’m definitely feeling that too.” Mario realized it more clearly, his breathing already labored after only climbing one flight of stairs. The injuries weren’t back, thankfully, but he was aching all over, a new heaviness creeping into his bones more and more. Luigi was hurrying to catch up with him, moving unsteadily. 

“Just go slow,” Mario called. “We’re not in a hurry. Be careful.”

It didn’t seem like Luigi heard him, still trying to talk as he climbed, huffing and puffing. “I mean, wow! We were running all over the place! We were fixing things! We were saving Brooklyn! But…huh. Something’s kinda weird.” His voice had dropped down into a mumble, so quiet and fast that Mario almost couldn’t understand him. “I’m having that pins-and-needles feeling, like my legs are asleep, but I’m still walking just fine. Right? Do I look normal walking? Be honest. I…I can’t tell.” He looked sleepy, and then he suddenly looked frightened, unfocused, as though he wasn’t even sure where he was at all. “Wait. Am I upside down? Mario…”

It happened so fast. With one last shuddery breath, Luigi’s eyes rolled back into his head. He started to fall backwards, about to topple down a nearly full flight of stairs. 

Mario’s heart seized. “Luigi!”

He covered several steps in one desperate jump. Somehow, he managed to get one arm around his brother and pull him back with every last scrap of strength he had left, crushing their bodies together. The other arm, he wrenched over and around the railing blindly, worn metal scratching and squeaking against him painfully as he struggled to hold onto it. For a long, agonizing moment, the fight against gravity seemed like it was going to be too much to overcome, and Mario, teeth gritted, mentally prepared himself to turn them around in the air so he would take the brunt of the long fall. But miraculously, his shoes found enough purchase on the steps, and his aching grip lasted just long enough for Mario to pull their combined weight back in the other direction. The two collapsed in a heap against the ascending stairs instead. 

Mario’s gasping breaths seemed like the only sound in the world, the echoes bouncing wildly all around.

“Luigi,” he finally managed to wheeze — quiet at first, then again, much louder. As gently and carefully as he could manage, he scooted up into a sitting position and turned his brother over onto his back, cradling him. He was still out cold. Mario patted his face. “Hey, Luigi. Come on, Lu, wake up for me, all right? I’m here. I’ve gotcha.” He patted a little harder, steadfastly ignoring the way his hands were trembling at that point. Every second passing with no change stretched on, an eternity and then some. “You’re all right, everything’s all right. Come on, Luigi, snap out of it…” 

Up close, Luigi looked extremely pale, sweat beaded along the line of his cap. How had Mario not noticed that before? He’d been too caught up with all the cleanup efforts, too distracted by Peach and Toad and the thought of that hypothetical house. How could he not see that Luigi was starting to struggle? What kind of brother was he? 

The kind that does something really, REALLY stupid because of pride or "destiny" or whatever you wanna call it. The kind that not only drags his brother down with him to do the stupid thing, but almost gets him killed because of it. 

Mario's shoulders sagged. He gripped Luigi tighter, pressing his little brother's face close to the crook of his neck, if only to try and desperately ground himself in the knowledge that he could feel him breathing still, at least. Their injuries were gone, it was true, but for Mario, it was suddenly like the star had just shifted the pain around instead. He could feel it pressing up from under his skin, a deep well that was ready to split him open all the way through if he let it.

It no longer seemed like he'd just been in a magical world on a whirlwind adventure, or that he'd defeated a spiked turtle monster with anger issues and saved Brooklyn in a glorious, technicolor blur. Now, he was just a small, ordinary man in a dark sewer room underground, exhausted and terrified and unable to help the person he loved most.

All of a sudden, Luigi jolted under his hands. “Noooo more flambé for me, thankyouverymuch, I’m-a good!” He shouted, the words slurred together to the point of being nearly unintelligible. With a handful of slow, very confused blinks, he finally managed to focus on Mario’s extremely relieved face overhead. “Waaaaaaait. Whuh happen?”

Mario bundled up all those sharp, aching feelings behind a new wall and regathered himself. No matter what, he was going to stay strong, stay in control. He needed to do that for Luigi’s sake. There was no other choice. “You went down like a big sack of bricks, ya lug,” he tried to joke, even as his voice cracked badly on the last word. “Nearly gave me a heart attack! Are you okay?”

Luigi considered this information, eyes unclouding bit by bit. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, soft, a little embarrassed. “Y-Yeah, I think I’m good. I, uh, don’t really know what happened there! It was like…it all just hit me at once, I guess.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Mario worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “When’s the last time you slept, bro?”

Discomfort crept into Luigi’s expression at that. He looked away from Mario, not able to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. “Well, I dunno if I — I was wandering around for a while, and then I couldn’t really sleep in that cage, y’know? All that lava made the metal real hot, so I had to keep moving to not get burned, and you have no idea how hard it is to nod off when there’s a creepy star laughing its head — body? — head off in the next cage over, and, and...well, I’m sure I got an hour here and there,” he scoffed lightheartedly, waving off the thought with a wobbly sweep of his hand through the air. “Nothing worse than those all-nighters in high school!”

“You almost had a nervous breakdown because of those all-nighters,” Mario said. His grip on Luigi’s shoulder tightened, fingers winding snug in the green material. “And…what about food? Water? We’ve been go-go-go all day. I didn’t even think about…”

A brand-new sense of dawning horror came over Mario, sudden enough that he trailed off. He couldn't remember them ever taking a break, even sitting down in the shade for a few minutes. There'd just been so much to do, so many people in need of help, and the two of them had felt so good, laughing and joking and keeping up with no problems whatsoever. The time had flown by. But now...

“Pfft, who needs it?” Luigi said, extremely casually and extremely unconvincingly. He coughed, closing his eyes again for a long moment, resting his cheek sleepily against Mario’s chest. “Hmm. A guard gave me some sips a couple of times? And there was some weird bread. I think it was bread. Who even knows? It was stale like croutons. Not like the really good garlic ones Ma makes, though. These were like…like erasers or something. Blech.” 

A few sips of water and some "bread." A couple of hours of sleep, if that. Luigi was on his own, scared and struggling and eventually imprisoned in a maniac’s floating lava airship, for over two full days.

“Well, no wonder you passed out,” Mario sighed, rough and very quiet. He had to talk like that — any louder, and his voice was going to become too unwieldy. It already felt like someone had promptly stuffed his heart into a blender and cranked it up to the highest setting. “Speaking of Ma, she’s probably got a full spread out by now. I’m gonna get you home, you’re gonna eat until you pop, and,” he had to pause for a moment to swallow, his throat hurting, “and then you’re gonna sleep until you can’t anymore, okay? That’s what we’re doing.”

Luigi sighed too, his smile resurfacing. “Man, that sounds like heaven. What are we waiting for?” He started to sit up with newfound determination, only for the dizzying sight of the stairs descending down into the dark beneath them to make his motions distinctly more rubbery again in a hurry. He sunk back into Mario’s arms, breathing faster, eyes closed again.

“Just, uh, one more minute," he half-wheezed. "Nothing to worry about, I’m getting up right now, I swear, but…is it just me or is it really, really hot down here? Those burns I had, they’re all gone, which is great, but I can still kindaaaa feel them? Is that a medical thing? Or am I freaking out? Because, heh, it’s starting to feel like I might be freaking out, and not to toot my own horn but some might consider me an expert when it comes to the signs of freaking out—”

“Just breathe, Lu,” Mario interjected, gently but firmly, the way he always did when Luigi got lost in a thought process that wasn’t going to lead him anywhere good in a hurry. “We can wait as long as ya need. No rush at all.”

Mario pressed back the brim of Luigi’s cap so he could brush his hairline soothingly, wipe away the sweat. He leaned down, gathering Luigi close enough to bump their foreheads together so they could breathe in slow, deep unison. He’d done that little motion to Luigi their whole lives, an unspoken shorthand that only they understood. When his little brother was scared or anxious, touching foreheads was a way to make the world smaller, less overwhelming, if only for a few seconds. It was an easy way to say: who cares about any of that? Focus on me instead. It’s just the two of us. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.

(And he’d tried, hadn’t he? He tried, and he hadn’t been good enough this time, when it mattered most. Luigi had suffered because he couldn’t hold on tightly enough. Because he hadn’t fought harder, been smarter, pushed to move faster throughout every part of the trip. And at the end when he’d finally found his brother? It had just been dumb luck, really. He’d squinted up at all the cages at the right time through the haze of the lava heat, breathless from the climb and still half-focused on trying to stay in the air without plummeting, and he’d seen his brother fall, and his body had just reacted without any thought, desperation and adrenaline screaming in his veins, the only word in his head echoing out as faster, faster, FASTER. And if one little thing had gone differently — if he hadn’t found that specific powerup, if he hadn’t figured out how to use it properly, if he'd been looking anywhere else, if he’d misjudged the speed or simply missed his grab entirely — then that would have been it, and it would have been all his fault. The sight felt seared into Mario’s head, something he could see whether his eyes were open or closed. He saw Luigi tumbling in the air, terrified and yelling and out of control, hurtling towards the lava at full speed. Only this time, he couldn’t reach him, he couldn’t move at all, he could only watch helplessly and in horror as he—)

“Mario?” Luigi asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Mario jolted back into the moment. He was breathing too hard, too fast; a tremor ran through him, bone-deep. Luigi was holding one of his arms, his eyes big and shining with newfound worry.

Mario smiled reassuringly for him, as easy and unthinking as a reflex. He took Luigi’s hand and wedged his fingers through his with a tight squeeze, resolving not to let go again until they were safely at home. That awful drowning feeling was rippling all through him, but he could keep his head above it if he focused hard enough, if he refused to let it sneak up on him again. He could do that. He would do that, no matter what it took.

With a slew of careful, slow-going movements, the two brothers finally stood up together on the stairs. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Mario said, and turned to lead the way. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here."

[bitchin-beskar]

hi 👋

may I request a reader that is a pack rat but with useful things? like they’re always ready with something in their bag to help tf141 with their needs. wether its a snack, an extra shirt, or whatever. they’re just dora with their backpack lol

and the men are always in awe bc ‘how are they always ready for any situation’?? it can be platonic or romantic but would surely love some fluff with it. please and thank you! 🥰

hello love!!! you can indeed request that!!! this is such a cute idea!!!

you suggested dora with the backpack, which is very valid, but my brain also jumps to daphne blake from scooby doo bc that girl carries a tiny ass purse and has everything under the sun and can make shit on the fly like nothing (there was one episode where she made a hydroelectric battery to power the mystery machine like it was nothing lol)

so taking both of those vibes and jumping headfirst in!!! here's a tidbit from how I think a fic with that might go!! (also I kept reader gender neutral in this one, bc you didn't specify any pronouns!)

It's finally happened, Soap is sure of it. The 141 has finally run into a situation that BP isn't gonna have the supplies for.

BP is the callsign of the team medic, which is why you could be forgiven for thinking their name is short for 'blood pressure.'

It's not.

It's short for 'backpack.'

Soap had chuckled when he first heard it, but those little chuckles quickly died when he realised his superiors were serious. All they'd say was that you were uniquely skilled at anticipating the needs of your teammates on any given mission, as well as a well-qualified and well-trained field medic and surgeon.

That first mission, everything had gone FUBAR, including the exfil being shot down, leaving the team stranded in enemy territory with their only possible transport being new black-market Humvees with remote locking systems that were thus far unbreakable. Price and Ghost had been conversing over a plan of attack when you'd simply opened up your ever present backpack and pulled out a small handheld remote. Flipping a switch, you pointed it at the nearest Humvee, and an audible click! indicated it was now unlocked.

They'd all stared for a solid minute before you coughed and said "Uh, about that exfil?" and the team jerked into action and dove for the doors of their new escape vehicle. When asked what the fuck kind of wizard tech you had, you simply shrugged and said it was a universal remote.

Soap had figured it for a one-off. He'd never been more wrong.

Ghost's balaclava gets irreparably damaged and covered in gross bodily fluids? You've got a brand new one in the exact size he needs, made from water resistant fabric.

Price's cigars get lost in (yet another) heli crash? You've got a brand new box of Maduro cigars in that backpack, the only explanation being that you'd "found them while out shopping."

Gaz loses his ball cap, and you whip out a spare without even a second glance, shoving it onto his head without a care in the world, even as he's sputtering because "how the hell do you have the same damn cap? I bought that old one years ago!"

Alejandro's iPod gets destroyed after the team has to flee through a river and all their gear gets waterlogged, and out of a Ziploc, you pull a brand new one with the headphones he likes, and he's shocked to see it's downloaded with all his favorite songs, and the default setting is currently on Spanish.

Rudy's a diabetic, and his insulin pump gets damaged in a knife fight, and not only do you have insulin for him, you have a brand new pump as well, and specific snacks that will help him hold out till he can replace the pump. It's originally brushed off that you have this because of being the team's doctor, until Rudy points out that you don't actually have access to his medical records, with him being Mexican Special Forces and you being SAS.

And Soap? Soap ran out of room in his journal one day, in the middle of trying to sketch and he hadn't realized how close he was to the end, so he hadn't brought a spare. Before he even has the chance to feel disappointed, you're slipping a brand new journal with the exact right type of paper he prefers into his hands.

It's not just personal stuff either. Any tool, gadget, gizmo, whirlygig, or thingamabob they could think of, you just... had it. Wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, lockpicks, extra mags, oil, cleaning rags, padlocks, bolt cutters, bandaids, needles, suture thread, ice packs, heat packs, gauze, hair ties, bobby pins, the list goes on and on and on.

Never, not once had there been a situation where the team had needed something that you couldn't pull from the dark, yawning pit that you called a backpack.

Except, Soap is confident that this time, you don't have what they need. You couldn't possibly have predicted this outcome.

The mission had been a comedy of errors, the team racing across the globe, bouncing between countries, hopping from continent to continent tracking the HVT Laswell had sent the lot of you after. Through a completely random turn of events, you'd ended up in the United States of all places, in the wooded areas of Washington state. It wasn't a state park, per se, but close enough. Supposedly, there was a cache here that the HVT frequented, and might have valuable intel.

Unfortunately, your way had been blocked by some State Park Rangers, who demanded that you either provide proof of registration that allowed you to be there, or the team had to leave.

Of course, being members of the SAS and Fuerzas Especiales, who operated out of Europe and Mexico respectively, the likelihood of any of them having the right paperwork was infinitesimal.

"Hold on!"

Soap whirled around at the sound of your voice. There you were, rummaging through your backpack.

"No fuckin' way," Gaz whispered, the rest of the team going deathly still.

There was absolutely, positively, no possible way on God's green Earth that you were gonna–

"Found it!"

You let out a whoop of excitement, pulling a small rectangular piece of plastic from your bag, a hole through the top indicating that it might go in a car, hanging from the rearview mirror.

"Here's our permit for the Washington State Parks and Forestry. Just renewed it, too."

The Rangers took it sceptically, but their faces cleared as they looked it over.

"Everything seems to be in order then, ma'am. Sorry for the delay and confusion."

"No problem!" You chirped, ignorant of the dumbfounded stares at your back. "Have a good day, gentlemen!"

Soap felt dizzy. He felt weak. He might actually collapse here on the spot from pure confusion alone. He could faintly hear Gaz muttering behind him, and in his peripheral vision, Alejandro was shaking with silent laughter, and Rudy looked like he'd just been handed the answers to the universe's greatest mysteries.

This had to be a dream. Soap refused to accept reality otherwise.

The Rangers left, and there was a heavy, oppressive silence that settled over the team. BP turned to look at everyone with a smile on their face, only for it to fall when they saw the stunned, blank looks their teammates wore.

"What's wrong?"

Bless 'em, they sounded so confused, but Soap really had no way to express just what he or any of the others were feeling in this moment.

As BP's face fell further, Price surged forward and scooped their medic and resident pack rat into a hug. They let out a small eep! at the sudden constricting pressure around their ribs. It was difficult to hug with tac vests on, but Price was determined.

"C-Captain? Are you alright?"

"Never change, soldier," Price said gruffly, and Soap could hear the disbelieving grin in his CO's voice. "Never fuckin' change."

[tgrailwar-zero]

Several dark familiars manifested- riflemen made of dull mana- that fired upon the SABER in a constant barrage. The bullets shot through the air, the warrior raising his blade to deflect them as gunfire smoke began to replace the fog that was present.

In an instant, AVENGER disappeared. A figure, like death itself, could only be seen as a silhouette.

The SABER swung his blade, a sharp gust of air cutting through the smoke and eliminating the familiars, but it was too late.

The silhouette struck.

A spray of blood, as the Wildfire blade slipped through the gaps in the Archbishop's armor, the holy man letting out a genuine cry of pain. There was a burst of black, magical fire that swallowed the Archbishop, as the warrior dropped to one knee, the flames beginning to consume him.

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "Agh… His Majesty's body--!"

The paladin's body shone with a brilliant white light followed by an echoing heavy clang, forcing ripples across the water as the AVENGER-Class Servant had suddenly gone flying. In a strike that one would think 'out of character' for a holy man, he had swung his armored fist as hard as he could as the red-clad Servant.

Holy people generally weren't 'bare-knuckle brawlers', right?

The AVENGER crashed into a tree, his Mystic Code flickering and fading for a moment before he regained his composure, as the Archbishop put a hand on his own wound, wincing and gasping for breath.

In other words, it seemed as if that choice was rather pivotal, despite the retaliation. Frankly, it seemed as if you had avoided a worst-case scenario for attacking at close range. However, regarding your ally…

[ AVENGER's Endurance has been reduced! AVENGER's 'Avenger' skill is starting to kick in! Mana costs are reduced, and damage is increased! ]

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "…Those flames… you're quite the pained soul, aren't you…? A Servant dedicated to stoking the fires of misery..."

After forcing himself up to his feet, the sound of SABER's footsteps almost echoed as he walked towards AVENGER, one hand firmly on the hilt of his blade. He seemed to be limping slightly, a thin trail of blood dripping onto the grass as he approached.

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "…We both landed good hits, I'd figure this next one will call it."

He called out.

You could feel the rage radiating off of AVENGER- pure power, but a lack of focus in exchange. Similarly, he forced himself up, glaring daggers towards the SABER.

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "…"

GREY MESSENGER: "…"

They both readied their weapons.

This seems to be a critical moment.

[jessenitrogen]

cybertronian anatomy ?? (headcanons)

FAIR WARNING, I STILL DONT KNOW THE MOST ABT TRANSFORMERS, I KNOW THERES A TCOG AND A SPARK BUT THATS IT AND ALSO WHILE I DID TAKE ANATOMY CLASS I FORGOT A BIT OF IT BUT and doesnt help I know next to nothing abt mechanics stuff

and another fair warning, the headcanons are canon to ME when I put them in the context of my continuity and exist bcuz I thought of it to fit in my continuity/my designs bcuz fuck it we ball

DENTA/TEETH/DIGESTIVE SYSTEM?

I think the purpose of their denta would not to chew but to bite into energon. Theyre metal beings, that are BIG in most cases, I believe they have a bite force strong enough enough to bite into energon in its mineral state.

For denta appearance, (while I dont know the best shape there is to cut into rock) would be sharp teeth, yknow pointed teeth. Some cybertronians have sharp pointed teeth and then there are some who dont. Well heres the kicker since these guys can also transform, I feel like they can alter their denta shape as well. highly compacted plates that can loosen and move when need be or something. Their sharp teeth can pop out like that HTTYD scene with Toothless popping out his teeth

They dont have tongues, cuz they dont taste, or use it to swallow, or use it to talk. They just kinda. Lean their helms back to get energon into their throats, like birds!!

And they dont need a tongue to formulate their speech, for their voice box is like, a literal box that generates sound waves that is the cybertronians voice. A cybertronian moves their mouth as to not muffle their voice.

While their denta is not designed to chew, in order to get energon into a shape/size that can get to their version of stomachs, their throats grind the energon into smaller bits so it can travel easier through their esophagus. or whatever the cybertronian equivalent is.

Once the energon gets to their stomachs, its melted down into a liquid state so it can flow to the spark where it is essentially "charged" and then can flow throughout tubes and circuits and power their bodies/frames and systems. And I believe, the cybertronians were created in such a way that they can utilize every component of energon so nothing goes to waste.

Cybertronians were created before the technology was made that could convert energon into a liquid state. That tech was made as to cut down digestive time and save energy that could be used for other things.

SKIN/INTEGUMENTARY SYSTEM

idk what cybertronian skin is called and I barely remember what the integumentary system is other than its skin it helps regulate body temp and helps fight infection?

ANYWAYS their skin is like a very flexible metal, its thinner in parts where the frame has more armor, but thicker in places that dont have armor to compensate for the lack of armor.

Here in this thin layer of metal are receptors that can sense touch and pain, and like idk abt this part but wanna say there is a thin layer of wire net/mesh that can either warm up or cool down as a way to assist the cybertronians ventilation system (ventilation system does most of the work when cooling down the frame)

This layer can repair itself over time. It can also be replaced with external metal if the layer is too damaged. During the early times of the War for Cybertron injuries were repaired with external metal. This external metal did not include touch/pain receptors or the wire net/mesh that assists with temp regulation. Those who were frequently repaired with this external metal have some resistance to pain but have the tendency to overheat, in severe cases need an external source to cool down their frames. ie, dipping in water

Cybertronians need to stay at a constant temp, normally a LOT warmer than we do, in order to keep the energon in a liquid state and stay warm during the nights on Cybertron. If they get too cold the energon can solidify again and cause blockage in circuits and tubing. But if their frames get too hot, the processor can fry, circuits can melt, etc

EXTRA/HALFBAKED HEADCANONS

these I dont have detailed thought on atleast yet, but

They wouldnt have noses. they dont breathe, or smell, so.

They dont have ANY reproductive organs, internal or external. They cannot reproduce with eachother or by themselves. their numbers only increase bcuz of the Allspark

AND THATS ALL I HAVE rn I'd like to state here and now that these headcanons definitely apply to all of my characters and my continuity versions of canon characters. and like, no one has to agree with them or use them but it's also cool if someone does