#except rhys

[thecommunityoftrustworthysinks]

ethically there’s so much wrong with the scenario where owen picks up a girl with the “make me look sexy” spray and then when her boyfriend shows up owen just also uses the spray for him and has a threesome instead

but unfortunately it is also extremely fucking funny

[razzle-zazzle]

How would they Daemos react if one of their friends was seriously injured in battle,

I did Pierce, but I also want to do the others so keep an eye out for that!

728 Words

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Of all the potential candidates, why did Asch have to be saddled with the most self-sacrificing tu’oide as his bodyguard? Honestly, Asch had to look after Pierce in battle just as much, if not more, than Pierce did for him, and at this point? It frustrated him to no end.

“You can’t do your job if you’re dead, dumbass.”

Pierce said nothing in response, still unconscious on the makeshift stretcher. Asch hated this. Hated how they always had to knock Pierce unconscious when treating his injuries, how they’d end up getting decked if they didn’t. Hated how Pierce felt the need to take every hit for everyone else, as though his own life didn’t fucking matter, when he was clearly just as essential to the group as everyone else.

Most of all though, Asch hated himself for not doing anything about it. He was the leader. He was supposed to make a good plan, give good orders, keep the group focused and coordinated and not let everyone else get hurt. He was supposed to keep track of his group, all of them, and he was failing.

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Rhys sighed as he checked over Pierce’s injuries for the third time, taking notes on the Daemos’ recovery and condition. With any luck, Pierce would be back to fighting form in a few days, and maybe then this undercurrent of worry would subside, however temporarily.

“Why are you like this?”

To be fair, Rhys could understand at least a little of what Pierce went through on a day-to-day basis, their shared water affinity giving them both the constant stream of thoughts and worries and ideas and opinions, the undercurrents of eventualities and self-reflections and plans and regrets, and all of the loose thoughts that settled to the bottom, only to surface again at the most inconvenient of times.

But of course, that was really only half of what Pierce dealt with. From what Rhys knew of earth affinity daemos, they too had constantly shifting feelings and emotions, always shifting underneath like the earth itself. Rhys wasn’t sure he could truly fathom what it must be like to have so much going on in one’s head that they could never quite sort it out, but he wished Pierce would at least attempt to talk through his feelings with someone else instead of bottling it all up.

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Noi whined, worry carving into every inch of him. Why did Pierce have to get hurt again? Why could he never think beyond his own desire to protect?

“Why don’t you get how much this hurts me? Or do you just not care at all?”

Others might call Pierce noble for wanting to protect, to take hits that the others couldn’t afford and serve others. Noi called it selfish. He cared about Pierce. Asch cared about Pierce. Rhys cared about Pierce. So why did Pierce never take their feelings into account? Why did he insist on serving his own self-image at the cost of the group’s morale?

Not that Noi could really talk, given how often he buried his own thoughts and opinions under the cheery persona he’d made for himself. But that was different. Noi resisted the urge to throw Leif in a river because doing so would get him killed. Pierce wouldn’t be executed for not taking every hit, and the stakes just weren’t as high for him.

Htrae ehvoha, just get better soon.

I need you. We all need you.

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The sound of the wind rustling in the leaves had always been a calming sound for Leif, but it wasn’t working now. With a shriek, Leif threw his sickles, watching them fall aimlessly to the ground.

“You’re supposed to be strong, dammit! So why are you so damn weak?”

It wasn’t fair. Pierce was the strongest of the group; if he was weak, then everyone else was weak. And Leif couldn’t afford to be weak. He couldn’t. If he did, his father—

No, Oek was dead. Leif had made sure of that.

All the same, Leif couldn’t afford to be weak. Couldn’t afford to be that weak little child who trembled at his father’s voice. Couldn’t afford to go back to being that shivering, drenched child trembling in his mother’s arms because he couldn’t fucking deal. He had to be strong, dammit, had to be the best, because if he wasn’t—

Stop thinking about it.

This was stupid. Everything was stupid. Why should it matter to Leif whether or not Pierce could take a fucking hit?

With a shout, Leif jumped down from the tree. He needed to stab something.

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Hope that satisfied you, anon! I plan to do the others too!

Reminder that my ask box is open if you want to shoot me a request or ask me a question!

[a-sad-secret-death]

someone please help me everyone else has gone to bed and im listening to “take me home country roads” on full blast and ugly crying about my impending graduation

[sigurdjarlson]

sometimes I just look at some of the members of the brotherhood of steel and

I’d suck my way up those ranks with no regrets  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[squeakykins]

steadily collects cat boys

[imperatorium]

that really awkward moment when...

...You've been roleplaying for almost ten years and, maybe a hundred characters later, still no one who isn't your obligated friend(s) wants to play with any of them.