Play with me

[simpleruser]

1. go here
2. pick a character
3. reply with character request in the subject line, build up a scene of your preference (tl;dr, au, canon, crack, short, I don't even mind)
4. I will bang it like a heavy metal band

(shamelessly ganked from the lovely sugartits)

Comments

[l1ck1ng]

Sure it has, his name is Gamzee Makara. Come on, conscript, haul your ass out of this joint.

You're rested, you can manage the few movements on your own.

[fetidmustard]

[It registers and he jerks out of the sopor shakily to his feet.]

Destination?

[l1ck1ng]

The shower.

[fetidmustard]

Target locked.

[He clutches at her as he trudges towards the shower's coordinates.]

[l1ck1ng]

[Luckily, she's pulled herself together and out of the recuperacoon by the time he locks onto the target, and she feels like there's been a breakthrough in the past night. He held her, voluntarily, and despite the crispy eyebrows and sopor, he turned towards her too, like she was his control beacon.

Gives her a little hope.]

[fetidmustard]

[He leaves footprints of sticky residue behind him but lands shivering in the shower. Stands to attention. Tilted slightly to the left. Some sopor got in his ear and it's throwing off his balance calibrations.

The spots where he was plugged in, and the last few places that the cables had to be ripped out haven't healed properly, they still sting in the air and they're a distraction from his routines when they ache.]

[l1ck1ng]

[She takes care of him first. She makes sure he's scrubbed clean of sopor, and though she lets him do most of the work, she is there to make sure he doesn't take his ear out or something like that. And no matter how smart Sollux is, he can't reach his back, so she gets that for him, gentle as she can be. Possitively reverent.

She might even kiss near a wound if she weren't sure he'd zap them on instinct alone.]

[fetidmustard]

Decontamination com... [he trails off, gently rather than like an aborted script.

He reaches and uses his knuckles to scrub lightly over her hip, dislodging a patch of sopor that had congealed.

He doesn't have anything to tell him what to say.]

[l1ck1ng]

[She doesn't expect it at all. It makes her stop scrubbing the scabs of sopor off his back, soapy hand pressed between shoulder blades; she needs a few seconds to come to terms with this voluntary touching.

Also she's fucking speechless.]

[fetidmustard]

[His hand shakes, tremor stemming from his shoulder. His knuckles press into her skin. Standing firm through his growing shudders.]

[l1ck1ng]

[The shudders send her into action finally; she moves her hand from his back to cover his hand, stepping twice so they're compressed into the cabin at a better angle from each other. A modest tit may or may not be brushing his arm. She may or may not be holding her breath.]

[fetidmustard]

[He notices nothing but the fact that warmth and contact is holding him steady.

He feels blind in all his senses and his functions are shrinking back into primal ones, the ones that tell every wiggler to cry and scream and fight, he has the first one covered, and the second is certainly building with it. Snorts and gasps, stutter out with tears and he can't hold himself still. He wipes an eye with the heel of his hand, doesn't know why and doesn't know why it comes back damp. Couldn't hold his hand still to see for trying even with eyes.]

[l1ck1ng]

[It's not like she's an expert on what's going on in his brain half the time, having no BA in programming BS, but there is one thing that sends her into action. She doesn't care if he burns her skin to pieces this time.

When she wraps her arms around him, she steps so she's in front of him; one hand hooked over his shoulder from behind while the other runs soothingly up and down his neck. She pulls him close.]

[fetidmustard]

[She always does the right thing, and he trusts her to do it as well. When he remembers. When he can.

Right now, he can.]

Terezi?

[l1ck1ng]

[That has her snapping her eyes open, the water registering only mildly as it sprays and gets in them.]

Yeah? [Her heart's in her throat.]

[fetidmustard]

[He's tired again already. Fuzzy clouds taking over his senses.]

Thank[-error, incorrect grammar attempt initiated, aborting, formality is requi-]s. [Programming was his bitch once, he can fight it, make it so again.]

[l1ck1ng]

[She squeezes him closer, wraps him up like he's a vulnerable wriggler and she's an overprotective lusus. Her voice is shaky.] Always. [She kisses his scrawny shoulder.] Always always always.

[fetidmustard]

[He sighs soft and small against her. Add bony to that and it describes everything about him.

He raises a finger and traces her back, outlining where the plugs would be if she was the ship instead of him. A template on a troll.]

[l1ck1ng]

[This is the most progress she's had with him, and she's not even sure it's her doing. Whatever it is, she's thrumming with some inexplicable feeling, and shivering at the touch.]

[fetidmustard]

[If - when he recovers he'll put it down to he, all her. If she asked it wouldn't be of course. He'd make a joke that isn't an answer and work around it to "Tz learn to code" but it's an honest fact that he owes his state as someone capable of breathing to her.]

Status of Terezi Pyrope?

[l1ck1ng]

Wet. [She stiffles a laugh against his skin, but she really is wet as hell, and tired as fuck, too. He might want something else, something classifiable and understandable like 'moirail' or 'matesprit', but she's not nothing; they're not understandable. They're nothing short of fucked up and complicated.]

Here. Whatever you want me to be.

[fetidmustard]

[He doesn't want to be broken. He's decided that. But then his programming doesn't want that either. He needs to define 'broken' properly. Trying to pull that out of his garbled brain always ends up returning the same result: processes online, commands recieved, output normal.]

Requesting health status of Terezi Pyrope.

[l1ck1ng]

Healthy. Drained. You singed something before sleep.

[She pauses; for all it matters, she doesn't seem to mind the fact that several places hurt, when her bloodpusher seems to want to hurt more.] I got nothing else.

[fetidmustard]

[Her reply doesn't gel quite enough and it sends a spasm - a shudder, through his shoulders. It's inelegant as shudders go, ceasing at his hips.]

Requesting mental health report of target?

[niggling through all else is the knowledge that he cannot ruin Terezi Pyrope.]

[l1ck1ng]

[Her hands move from his shoulders and back at that, and come down to rest on his hips, an anchor of sorts. She's aware that they're naked and pressed together, and it should fluster her; in some part of her brain, she's flustered, but mostly she doesn't care. Therein lies the complexity of flipping quadrants.]

Perfect. Tip top condition. Could take an empire down with my hands behind my back and all that.