minor injury meme.

[estivates]

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.

INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

Comments

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY I finished the game recently!

[shiftbreak]

Ha- [ Smiling under his breath, looking away with closed eyes. ] 'had me worried there for a second.

[ Unsure how Kuja was mentally holding up... how would he handle being alive once he'd woken? The way Kuja had been found, that painful state of existence where you're ready to stop existing? You're not satisfied with yourself or your reality and struggling to meet your inner expectations seems so exasperating -- you don't think you can continue. Unlike Kuja, Zidane has others and that support is the reason he's here today. Without them, he would be Kuja.

Garland was wrong about many things, this is something Zidane had been pondering over since his near-death experience(s). The genomes weren't just lifeless husks, each and everyone of them was starting to show differences-- personalities. What they lacked was someone to love them... Kuja and Zidane? They weren't killing machines... they could laugh and cry, feel pain and be passionate about things that didn't even pertain to 'their purpose.'

However, Garland did get one thing right. They weren't different... they were similar and that's something Zidane hadn't even considered for a very long time. It's that idea that kept Kuja the villain, it made him killable...

Now-? ] But with a response like that? You'll live. [ Now, things are the way they should be... that's what you have to tell yourself. ] How are you feeling? You got pretty messed back there.

[ No one would ever forgive Kuja, Zidane's not even sure he'd forgive Kuja... but someone needed to stand by him. Everyone had purpose... ]

[inquisitorialness]

That would never happen. [ She knows what he's getting at, but still. ] I like your face too much.

Re: 1, 2, 3

[boywho_waited]

[Kazran and the Doctor has been having a snowball fight in the snow, outside of the TARDIS, when he had slipped on a patch of ice. Not Kazran, but the Doctor. His long legs had gone under him and he had landed in an awkward position. That's the way Kazran had seen it anyway.

He immediately dropped his snowball and ran over to see if his friend was alright.]

Doctor? Are you alright?

[serves]

[He laughs. What kind of compliment is that?]

I like your face, too.

[notquitebeloved]

[He almost wilted over at the reply. And the second. Irony at his awareness of what Ritsuka would do if he said to not come over twisted his lips before he went and stretched out on the floor right where he'd slumped.

It was easier, and harder at the same time.]

Hot chocolate will be ready by the time you get here.

[If he could stand in time.

No, he would. He had to, to at least keep one promise.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ An intentionally silly one, if true enough in its way. She kisses him again, pressing herself closer with a hum. Her hand covers his on his cock, eager to touch him again. ]

[pictureslastlonger]

[No teasing, no cute emojis, nothing that meant that Soubi was in a good mood. Ritsuka stared at the phone as he walked, wondering what was wrong. Was he worried about Seimei, again? Sad, and feeling abandoned like before? Though, didn't Soubi usually come running to him when he was like that... He wearily knocks on the door when he finally gets there, and tests the doorknob. He rubs his hand against the shiner on his face, which was swelling up and making his vision blurry on one side.] Soubi?

[notquitebeloved]

[Distracted. Empty. Conflicted on everything.

But Ritsuka needed him, and that was what mattered. The phone lay forgotten on a table by the time the knock came, and the kettle just starting to whistle as the battered Fighter opened the door with the usual smile. So painfully a mask, but that wasn't unusual for him.

A mask that fell away at the sight of the black eye and swelling cheek.]

...Let's get some ice on that.

[As if he's not in worse shape. Only somewhat covered up and hidden by a fresh shirt, and the usual way he stood, ignoring any injury. But he'd forgotten to do any actual bandaging up, and the first aid kit was still just beside the door.]

[serves]

[Cullen gives her a little nudge, urging her onto her back.]

Not yet.

[If he rolls himself gently enough, onto his good side, he can slip a hand between her legs.]

[pictureslastlonger]

[Ritsuka gave a little half nod, but hesitated after a moment.] ...Is that blood? Did you cut yourself? [He could smell blood, he knew that smell pretty well. A frown immediately crossed his face, and he looked up at Soubi.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ She allows it, pushing a lock of hair out of her face as she lies back, parting her thighs for him. She might get impatient, but that's half the fun. ]

Because I'm a bad person? Injury up to you.

[belovedbrother]

[Seimei clicks his tongue softly as Soubi falls to his knees in the dirt. He had won the fight (it wasn't close, it never is), but it's their third in a day and he had ordered Soubi not to sleep for the last two nights. A punishment for something - he doesn't remember what, but he does remember the almost imperceptible tremble in Soubi's hands when he gave the order.]

Get up.

[It's a cold night. Seimei tugs up his scarf and stares at the back of Soubi's head.]

[serves]

I can't do much right now, but I am capable of this. [He's aching to be inside her, but Cullen knows the value of foreplay. Of doting on her. The touch on her clit is light and teasing.]

[notquitebeloved]

[Soubi also hesitated before shrugging a shoulder a little. As if that motion didn't send pain through him.]

It's alright Ritsuka.

[Right back to the norm for him. He turned away to quiet the kettle as it was starting to grate on his nerves. Just enough to use it as an excuse to not look at Ritsuka as he just knew the boy would find the kit and realize he was right.]

Nothing to worry about.

[inquisitorialness]

[ She's already aroused, and her toes curl a little in anticipation at that light, teasing touch. He's always so attentive, reverential even. Like he can't quite believe she's here.

That is just as arousing as anything else. ]

By bad you mean perfect, right?

[notquitebeloved]

[Another win for Seimei. Worked hard on no sleep, but it was what he deserved. What he'd done didn't matter, it never did. The results were what did, and he'd proven he could handle anything thrown at him and come out on top if his Sacrifice demanded it of him. Even exhausted he'd made sure Seimei wasn't touched.

Even when he fought just to stand, that was what he was ordered to do. Suddenly furious with himself and his weakness, and terrified he'd be left behind if he didn't, Soubi's hands clenched to hide the trembling as much as he could, and he shoved himself to his feet. And swayed as the world tilted before mostly settling as he closed his eyes for a moment, arms rigidly held at his sides and head still bowed.

He would not fall.]

[serves]

[He rubs small circles for a time, and then slips a finger into her, and another if she wants it.]

I think about this--you--often, while we're apart. About how much I want to pleasure you.

[inquisitorialness]

[ Oh, she definitely wants it. Her hips roll into his touch and her eyes flutter shut as she bites back a whimper. He - thinks about - this?

Maker, that's sexy.

Her fingers work their way into his hair as she whimpers again. ]

Cullen...

[serves]

[For what she's given him--and continues to give--he'd do anything for her. He never thought himself as lovable, especially after he'd nearly lost his mind. He was an angry, broken man. And then after leaving the order--who would want to deal with him and his painful crawl away from lyrium? The mood swings? The nightmares?

Not to mention stubbornness when shot.]

Yes, Nadia?

[inquisitorialness]

[ What she sees is a good man, trying to do the right thing. A man who looks at her like she's the whole world.

Squirming again, she opens her eyes, smiling faintly. ]

I want you.

[serves]

[He smirks. Oh, he knows. Now to orchestrate this without him bleeding all over her nice bed.]

Perhaps, with you on top of me--

[On his back his wound is stable... she'd just have to mind her legs.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ She nods. She can definitely do that - anything to have him inside her, frankly. The ache between her legs is insistent, but she moves carefully, helping him shift over so she can straddle him - keeping as far away from the injury as she can manage.

She rolls her hips, trapping his cock between them, biting back a moan as she guides him to her entrance. ]

[serves]

[He's not able to bite back his own moan in time, but damn it, her chambers are secluded enough. She should hear what she does to him. He's missed the warmth of her around his cock, and for the moment he's content to be still, pull her down for a kiss, and feel her chest against his.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ She sinks down slowly, wanting to feel every inch of him filling her. She braces herself above him as he pulls her down for a kiss, making sure to avoid his injury as she sighs against his mouth.

She loves the moment or two of stillness, that feeling of fullness that reminds her he's real, he's here, he's hers. When she lifts her hips, it's slow, deliberate, and she sucks in a sharp breath when she sinks back down. ]

[serves]

[The Maker, Andraste--both are on his tongue as she moves her hips. His hands slide over her thighs and to her ass, pulling her down, trying to fill her as much as he can, angling his hips to sink in all the more.]