Fuck It, Im Posting The First Part While I Finish The Rest Take It

Fuck it, I’m posting the first part while I finish the rest take it

Here’s God!Tucker au: Part 1

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Wash found Tucker by accident.

He had been traveling, trying to get back to Armonia in time for the peace talks, but he’d gotten sidetracked helping out a town with some trouble makers and then was delayed when the bridge that marked the border crossing into Chorus broke down, forcing him to go all the way around.

And then the storm rolled in.

By the time he found shelter in an abandoned temple, he was soaked to his bones, armor completely ruined by the wet that seeped into them. He guided his trusty steed in, mumbling a quick prayer of thanks for the shelter and please don’t strike me down for bringing my horse in here. I really don’t want to leave her outside in the rain.

Wash gasps when he enters, gazing in awe as he looks at the scenery around him.

The temple is large and open, beautiful columns of stone lining the whole room. Even with the flora that has seeped in, vines winding around pillars and across the ceiling, flowers blooming from their bushes, branches of a large unkempt tree escaping into the ceiling, it all has an air of elegance that has Wash holding his breath, like it’d be disrespectful to let the air from his lungs taint the marble and stone.

But the most glorious thing about this place, the thing that has Wash making his way deeper into the temple, is the giant sculpted statue on the back wall. It almost reaches the ceiling, the figure depicted kneeling as he reaches out with his hands cupped. Rain water fills it now, but Wash sees the glisten of gold coins as an offering sunken at the bottom.

The figure is surrounded by decaying gifts, bouquets that have long since eroded, food that is barely identifiable, and trinkets made of the finest metal and gems rusted and broken after years of neglect.

Wash thinks he understands why this god was so well-loved. His face is soft and kind, the curl of his lip happy and maybe a little mischievous, long locs fall over his shoulder and down his back, gold making up the beads of his lovingly carved hair. He looks like a dream, a figure Wash would’ve been more than happy to worship just to look at him.

He steps in front of the statue, carefully observing every detail. On the back wall, right above the figure, a single line of carved text reads:

Long live the god of giving

God of giving, huh?

Something rises in his gut when he realizes the name of this god has been left out, not a trace of it written anywhere on the walls or on the trinkets left behind.

It dawns rather suddenly on him as he tries to name the feeling, something oddly familiar about the situation of a god so beloved also being so quickly forgotten.

This wasn’t a god the people worshiped, this was a god the people used.

The decaying gifts ring hollow under Wash’s revelation, the statue, while still beautiful, humming with a new sense of entrapment and sadness. By the state of the temple, it seems like this god ran out of things to give, abused and rung out for all he was worth until he stopped being useful.

Wash has seen it before, watched people beg for favors, for miracles, for the impossible, only to ditch their god the minute they receive their blessing, never even giving thanks, only ever coming back to ask for something else. He’s seen temples be built, be full and then be torn down and left for ruin in a matter of months.

He usually doesn’t care, doesn’t pay enough mind to all the new gods coming and going. He really only prays and worships out of habit, a polite set of manners that have been engraved into his soul (and he doesn’t have a death wish. There are certain gods willing to kill if you disrespect their temple or their people).

But there’s something about this statue, about this god of giving, that makes Wash wonder if maybe he’s a spiritual man after all.

“I would’ve never stopped worshiping you.” He whispers to himself, slowly getting on his knees and reaching up to cradle the underside of the statue's hand.

“I would’ve given you everything. Lose myself by offering you all I am. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re gone because…

Because I think I would’ve given you all my love.”

“Is that a promise?”

Wash turns to face the voice, his sword already unsheathed and ready to cut down the intruder—

Oh. Oh shit.

“You— You’re—“

“Lavernius Tucker, god of giving. Pleasure to meet you.” The man smiles brightly, the same warm and mischievous one depicted on his statue.

Wash eyes widen as he snaps to look back and forth from the man and the statue and—

Holy shit.

He’s… smaller than Wash was imagining, not the same plump and soft figured man they carved into the stone. He’s got more angles to him, lean and thin without much mass covering his body. There’s a tired droop in his shoulders, eyes weary and slanted. Wash thinks he’s leaning on a pillar more for support than for seduction.

“Are you alright?” Wash snaps out of his daze, shaking off the shock as his blood bred need to help takes over. He steps towards him, dropping his sword without a second thought in case the god keels over suddenly.

The man—Tucker—seems surprised at the question, standing a little taller as Wash comes forward with the same energy as a mother hen. He lets Wash crowd him, his hands gently skimming over his body for injuries.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Just been a while since anyone has come here, especially someone as… sweetly devoted as you are.” He sways forward into Wash’s touch, his eyes fluttering as he soaks up the blessed affection.

Wash shuffles in his feet but doesn’t pull away. He’s never really met a god before, so he’s not sure what the proper reaction to a god showing favor is. It certainly doesn’t feel right since Wash just got here. “I— I haven’t

even worshiped you before.”

“Mmm, but I can practically taste it off you.” Tucker traces his hands over Wash’s chest until they hang gently on his shoulders, the touch sending shivers up Wash’s spine. “You may have stayed here to hide from the rain, but you didn’t need to say anything to me, didn’t need to pray or give thanks. But you did. You did and now I’m bound to you, my loyal little devotee.”

“Bound to me?”

He nods, giggling as he pushes himself closer to Wash to clasp his hands behind his neck. “You’re my only follower now, silly. You’re the one whose belief gives me power and with power…” He nudges his nose into Wash’s cheek and Wash can’t help but drop his head to meet him there, something deep in his bones singing as this gorgeous god seeks out his attention.

Tucker practically whimpers at him, resting their foreheads together as Wash moves to place his hands respectfully on his waist. He’s shaking, Wash notes, possibly from years left neglected and bound to this fragmented temple.

He breathes in deep and slow, savoring the feeling of being so carefully worshiped, something he’s never had in all his centuries of existence.

“With power,” He continues, “I can give you anything you want, just say the word.”

Right, god of giving. Probably thinks that Wash’s affections are an offering in turn for a wish or a miracle. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he doesn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful to this fragile looking god. He deserves to be worshiped, to be loved and respected, his name sung in glory by all those who follow him.

Wash makes his choice.

“What if I just want you?”

Tucker startles at that, shock evident on his face. Wash keeps his face serious, not a single bit of doubt or hesitation to be found. He wants this, wants him, whatever that means.

His god seems to drop at that, like a puppet without its strings. He practically glows when he smiles again, something so much more genuine and happy then the one he had before, the one that’s immortalized on his statue.

Wash thinks that this is the Tucker that they should've worshiped all those years ago. Tucker kisses his cheek, a submissive little thing that has Wash heating from his cheeks to his shoulders, and proudly proclaims to Wash—

“Then I’m yours.”

Motorcyclist Tucker and Wash constantly knock their heads together because they want to kiss their boyfriend but keep forgetting they’re wearing helmets.

Wash will try to kiss Tucker’s cheek and accidentally hits him in the face because he’s still wearing his helmet. Tucker tries to kiss Wash’s back when he’s backpacking and just thunks against his shoulder really hard instead. They both try to kiss while they’re parked at a gas station and bonk their helmets together.

It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been riding for or how long they’ve been together, they keep bashing their heads together. They’re just really eager to kiss their boyfriend, okay? They can hardly be blamed if they forget to take off their helmets in the process.

RvB Archival Work / Music hunting

this is a sort of call to action, I suppose, but is there anyone out there with copies (digital or physical and willing to digitize) of the Season 15, 16, and 17 soundtracks?

Now that most of the albums have been taken down off Apple Music / Spotify / Youtube, I have been unable to find a majority of the tracks off of those albums Anywhere. Not on youtube, not on the Internet Archive - nowhere. Of course it could always be out there and just eluding me.

Some tracks are up through official Trocadero and David Levy channels, but the overwhelming majority seems to be completely MIA. So if you or anyone you know may possibly have those soundtracks to upload while their official release future is in limbo, nows your chance to be my hero!

EDIT: FOUND! huge thanks to @beanshery for sharing a drive with all the albums in it! here's the link to that for everyone else https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1bjuwnq3O2S2d94eOcREQh9LRa27n2vP7?usp=drive_link

Just saw @slyvester101's water park au post, and a, that's fucking brilliant, I love it, and b, seeing the love of the silly au ideas for the skittle soldiers reminded me of a zoo keeper au idea I had a little while ago, so here's that.

The idea mainly focused on Wash and Tucker, because what else do I write about, so I'll talk about them and what they're jobs are as keepers first. (also not all of the reds and blues are here, so feel free to come up with where you think they'd be)

-Tucker is their resident "Shit nobody wants to go anywhere near guy", primarily working with the big cats, and the few snakes they have there. He lives for working up the crowds during any feeding times or exhibitions, and has gained a bit of a reputation for it, turning into a slight attraction for the park.

-Wash sticks to the calmer side of the park, or at least as calm as it can get where they all work, usually found in Avery whistling back to the birds, or in their marine enclosures. However, he's one of the most researched at the park, and gets called in as a pseudo announcer for a lot of the parks shows, mainly Tucker's, which is where the real attraction for the crowd lies.

Wash makes little comments and jokes at Tucker during his shows, i.e "this strategy your seeing here is similar to Tucker's own mating efforts, which is to say ineffective," and other things along those lines, and Tucker usually flirts at him in response over their mics to get a rise out of him, which is really what the park goers come to see.

-Kai works at all of the interactive enclosures, mainly the small petting zoo area, and the tortoise exhibit where park goers can feed them and pat their shelves if the tortoises decide to come closer enough. Usually Tucker's not far behind her either, visiting her to gossip and bitch between shows.

-Carolina works in the antarctic section, polar bears, emperor penguins, a few specific kinds of seals, etc, her and Wash end up working together on a few enclosures so they spend a lot of time together, and as much as they claim not to, they gossip just as much as everyone else.

-Grif works at the sloth and lizard enclosures, and he will be damned if he has to be anywhere else, which has nothing to do with the fact that it's right next to where Simmons works at the monkey and orangutan enclosures, and Simmons loves talking to people about how intelligent they are to anyone who will listen, which is usually Grif.

-the squad leaders are frequent park goers, who are kind of hoping for a job there at some point, which all of the current crew claim to hate the idea of, but they've been subtly mentoring all of them with the skills and things they'll need to know to get hired.

-Kimball is the one managing this whole god forsaken place, don't ask about her, she's got enough going on as it is.

This is important

(please Reblog for a bigger sample size)

(only if you want two)

Haven't mentioned it much on here but I'm currently down in the south island ( I live in nz/aoteroa and am based up north) and the rvb brain rot had contuied into my travels so here's some totally not edited photos from blood gulch and sidewinder (Lake Tekapo)

(Also dont mind how short I look in the snow, I'm not the tallest of people and we were trying to get the mountains in the back lol)