#but i hope you enjoy anyway :D

[themisterhip]

I get brat vibes from 1998 Vash  (≧∇≦)/

[spearxwind]

✦ Tfw your killer AI gets himself stuck in fucking orbit, somehow still manages to be a nuisance ✦

I've had this idea in mind for a few years and finally drew it, but since I've missed doing actual comic pages and I really wanted to start messing with more creative paneling I thought I'd use it as an excuse to experiment instead of just doing a little strip like usual >:] so enjoy this shitpost in 4k ultra HD edition

[sneez]

my lord of autism

[sirazaroff]

@evilrwbyfan breakfast is on the house today

[c-hrona]

Hope-

Or tfw you touch grass for the first time in your life, and it makes you so sappy that you can't help it but pray for a brigther future.

If, in said future, there's also your best friend, well, who are you to not hope a little more?

Little comic without any kind of expectations and is showing I did to try the 8 page zine layout and it does work!!! I will do more of these because it was fun as heck and really made me happy to do it!

If you want to print it and have a physical copy, you can find the file on my Ko-fi for free!

Here some photos of my own little prints, tried both the A3 and A4 format and they are so cute! **

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death Part 4 - End

Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3

Epilogue

Finally, after weeks under intensive medical care, she was cleared to go home. Her recovery was far from over. Lena didn't look forward to the intense physical and occupational therapy in store, but at least she could rest in a more comfortable space. Have a bit more freedom.

Alex had insisted on taking her home, though Kara had walked with them until she received a Supergirl call. Lena understood now why Kara randomly took off, and with that understanding came a slow acceptance.

The door swung open at the press of her thumb against the keypad. Alex pushed her wheelchair, and shut the door with her foot behind them. They made it almost to the sofa when the shouts erupted around them.

"Surprise!"

Lena nearly fell out of her chair at the sudden noise. People leaped out from behind the sofa, tumbled out of the kitchen, and poured in from the hallway. They were all there: Kara, Brainy, Nia, J'onn, Kelly, and even Sam and Ruby.

"Welcome home!" Alex said with a grin, meaning she was in on this too.

Lena had no idea what to make of this. She'd never had a surprise... anything before in her life. "Um, thanks?"

Ruby nearly bounded into Lena's lap with her fervent hug. "I'm so glad you're home! We were so worried when we found out." She pulled back with a teary smile. "You gotta stop almost dying on us. Because we need you here, you're family, and Mom and I sort of just got here today, so all I have is this card." She handed it over and put her hands behind her back.

Lena opened it to the words, "We love you. Please try not to die again. Or we'll drag your sorry ass back to the world of the living." The asterisk after 'ass' had a note at the bottom that read, "Ruby was allowed this one curseword in honor of you."

Lena smiled and ran her fingers over the handwriting, some of it Ruby's and some Sam. Why they bothered, she didn't know, considering how she'd ghosted them. She took a deep breath to try to stop the urge to cry. "Thank you, Ruby. I love you both too."

Sam walked up behind her daughter and smiled, her eyes glistening. "Kid has a point." She leaned forward and gave her a half hug, planting a kiss on the side of her head. "I'm glad to see you up. We've been so worried."

She handed Lena what looked like a phone at first glance, until she saw the hinge. Opening it revealed a note that read: "Answer your phone! <3 xxxoo Sam." Under it was one of her guilty pleasures, a very specific hard candy only sold in Ireland.

"Sam..." Lena didn't know what to say. She wiped away tears, frustrated with herself. Since her near death and disablement, she'd become a weepy fool. "Thank you. I'll be better about staying in touch. I promise."

As the others moved forward, one at a time to greet her and welcome her home, Lena found herself smiling and dissolving into tears yet again. She wasn't used to this much care, and it still felt unreal. Like the shoe could drop at any moment, and yet it didn't.

Alex had continued to care for her, Kara and the others had continued to visit, and now that Lena was cleared to rest at home? Here they all were being the sappiest people she'd ever met.

"Make sure you kiss your beefcake," Nia whispered as she dropped a box of chocolates on Lena's lap. "She set this up, and I kind of have money on the line, so give a girl some help?"

Lena laughed, but she couldn't stop herself from sneaking a look at Kara who stood, swaying back and forth on her heels, as she waited impatiently. "Sure, Nia."

Alex gave her a backpack of all things. "Hey, don't give me that look," the director said with a cluck of her tongue. "Think of all the science-y things you can stuff in this thing and loop onto your wheelchair. Nothing will stop you now."

She lightly swatted Alex's arm. "Maybe if I was five, but really, thank you." At least the bag was black, so it matched the chair's coloration.

Kelly's gift was perhaps the most useful. A tool to grab things from afar. Lena immediately snapped it in Alex's direction, who danced out of reach with a scowl. "It's perfect," she said with a grin.

"I know you have a long recovery in store," Brainy said with a bow of his head. "But I will give you access to my favorite..." he glanced at Nia, "... toys as Nia calls them." He held out a small, palm-sized square. "Press your thumb and a holographic interface, encrypted for our communication and projects, will appear."

Lena couldn't resist. She pressed her thumb, and the interface swirled around her, filled with all sorts of delicious programs. "Holy shit, Brainy. Thank you. This is a delight." She pressed her thumb again, and it vanished.

J'onn stepped forward and bowed his head. "I wish to apologize for my actions in not bringing you in sooner. You've always been one of the best of us, and so I offer you the aid of my community. We have had many soldiers wounded in battle, and I will gladly aid in your recovery. So that you may find the mobility that fits your needs."

Lena studied the stoic man and thought back to something Kara had said to her. "You're a good swordfighter?" When he nodded, she smiled. "I was nearly an Olympic fencer. That's my goal. To recover enough to challenge you to a duel."

He bowed to her. "I accept."

Kara came last, of course. "Hey you." She knelt and wrapped Lena in a tight hug. Lena leaned her head against Kara's shoulder and breathed in her usual vanilla scent.

The pain hadn't full healed between them, but they were taking little steps. And with each one, Lena settled into the reality that Kara wasn't some omnipotent do-no-wrong-god, but a trauma-filled, messy alien who feared loss almost as much as Lena did.

That's one thing the past few weeks in Alex's medical ward taught her: perfection didn't exist, and that's okay. It was okay to be imperfect. She'd still be loved for who she was, even despite her sometimes bratty, petty nature.

Kara pulled back and kissed Lena's forehead. "I made this." She handed her a cylinder with lines and dots on all sides. "It's a puzzle box like what my father made. Give you something to do as you heal."

"Kara," she leaned her head against Kara's shoulder. "God, I love you so much," she whispered. "Thank you."

"I love you too." Kara carded her fingers through her hair. Lena gladly took the brief moment to recalibrate herself for more people interaction. Alex's words hovered in her head, "I need you to recognize your limits."

She took stock of her pain, her emotional bandwidth, and decided she could handle an hour. Then she'll ask to go to the bedroom. Plan in place, she pulled back from Kara with a smile.

She blinked away her tears. "Thanks to all of you. Now, I'd like to sit down on the sofa, if you don't mind?"

Kara chuckled and gently scooped Lena into a bridal carry. Her face flushed, likely as pink as her own. "As you wish, milady."

Alex groaned at that while Nia cackled.

Settled on the sofa, Lena leaned back into the cushions in relief. Fatigue plagued her still, and the pain simmered despite the pain meds. Still, she was much improved than a week ago. This ordeal had taught her that even small steps were worthy victories.

"So you ready for cake? Because all welcome home parties need cake." Kara practically hopped from foot to foot.

"Sure, Supergirl," Lena drawled. "Better fly me the best."

"Oh, you betcha. Straight from Belgium." Kara sounded quite proud of herself.

"Kara..." Alex pressed her palm against her face.

"Supergirl?" Sam echoed, her eyebrows raised.

"Wait a second," Kelly looked around, surprised. "Kara is Supergirl???"

Well, it was nice to know she wasn't the last one told after all.

***

Six months later

Lena gripped the bars, most of her weight on her arms. Her legs trembled beneath her, her right foot turned slightly to the left. Kara stood at the other end of the torture session with a grin. "Come on, Lena, you can do this."

"Oh shut up." Lena growled, but there was no heat in her words, only a deep affection. She carefully took a step, and her leg held. A tingling sizzled up her leg muscles, but she didn't crumple. Slowly, she lifted and plopped her other foot down. That one proved weaker than the other, so she leaned into the bars more.

"Remember to breathe." Her physical therapist stood behind her ready to catch if she fell.

She took a deep breath and managed another step. The rhythm of walking felt strange, like a foreign language she'd forgotten after months of using a wheelchair.

Since the attack, she'd kept a low profile. Sam returned as temporary CEO, and Alex proved to be just as protective of her as she was of Kara. Nia's article of the attack won the public's favor for Lena, which had been a nice, short boost for L-Corp.

So she slowly made her way down the bars, each step mores stable than the last. Her muscles screamed at the effort, but she pushed forward, determined.

Kara, as always, lived up to her promise and stayed at her side. Assisted her lab work. Accepted with grace the occasional microscope she threw at her head. Since becoming an independent writer and science consultant, Kara spent more and more time at her penthouse, and it had started to fill up with knickknacks, paintings by Kara, Kara's clothes randomly strewn over chairs, and a kitchen full of enough food for a hungry Kryptonian.

Lena knew she wasn't always the best partner. Sometimes Kara and her fought bitterly, but they'd learned to come together and talk it out. To share space for one another's feelings. To tentatively explore what being together really looked like.

All a step at a time.

Her trek reached the end of the bars, and there Kara stood, her arms out stretched.

"You did it! I told you so," Kara said with a delighted laugh.

Lena leaned forward and let herself fall into Kara's embrace. She looked up and smiled at her lovable dork. "I suppose I owe you that ice cream, my love," she said, wryly.

Kara nodded and brushed her nose against Lena's. "You sure do."

Lena placed her hand on Kara's cheek and kissed her lips. As she pulled back, she smiled at the goofy dazed expression Kara always wore when Lena sneaked a kiss.

"I'll make it two, for being such a good motivator." Behind her the physical therapist cleared her throat. Lena chuckled and for the first time in her life, she actually felt happy.

She'd cheated death yet again and won a girlfriend from it. Quite the bargain when all was said and done.

[pokimoko]

Hello!! i just discovered your blog and firstly i wanna say that your art is gorgeous! <33 and secondly, if youre still taking requests could i get a lesbian/non binary cheetah? /nf

Thank you! Cheetahs be upon ye!

[adrift-in-thyme]

Happy belated birthday @luna-lovegreat !!! Here’s the Sky fluff I promised!

So sorry this took me awhile to finish!

—————————

“Just how strong is the bond between a loftwing and a Skyloftian?”

Sky has been asked that question quite often since plummeting to the surface. Even more so after he ventured from his timeline. He never truly knows how to reply. How can he explain their relationship? How can he put into words the utter exhilaration of soaring atop your loftwing?

From what he has observed, people usually place platonic love — and especially the platonic love between human and beast — somewhere beneath both romantic and familial, as though it is an inferior thing. As though it can never reach the same heights and depths as the others. The same precious worth. But Sky knows differently.

The love a loftwing and their rider share is like nothing else. As priceless and unbreakable as a diamond.

So, when, finally, a portal spits the heroes out in his era, Sky is overjoyed.

He can see Sun for the first time in forever, wrap her in his loving arms, hold her close and breathe her in, and whisper everything he’s wanted to tell her all these long months. He can see his friends, his family, the place that will always be his home, no matter how far he travels or what monsters he battles.

And —

He separates from Sun, runs to Lofty as the bird lands in a rush of wind and feathers. A grin splits his face and it feels good to smile after everything, so, so good…

— and he can reunite with his loftwing.

“Wow!” Wind gasps, mouth agape. “So, that’s a loftwing?”

“Close that mouth of yours before you swallow a bug,” Twilight teases, setting a hand on the sailor’s shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile. “He’s beautiful, Sky.”

Lofty preens beneath the praise, ruffling his feathers and throwing back his head. Sun chuckles, and Sky sends her a grin.

“He is, isn’t he?” He sighs, leaning his forehead against Lofty’s beak. The next words leave his lips in a whisper meant only for the glorious animal before him…though if the beautiful woman standing close beside him hears he won’t mind. “I missed you so much, Lofty.”

A low trill emanates from the bird.

“He has missed you too,” Sun murmurs. “I’ve taken him out for a few flights to keep his wings limber. But you know he truly flies for no one except you.” She cocks her head, a grin on her lips. “You should take him out for a flight.”

He turns to her, a question in his eyes. It’s been so long, after all. He feels as though he hardly has enough time to catch up with them both. Much less Gaepora and Groose and everyone else….

“Are you sure, Zel?”

Sun nods and the breeze lifts her golden locks. “Go on, sleepyhead. We’ll have all the time in the world to spend together once you get back.”

Sky breathes in deep.

That’s right. They have time now. For the first time in a while, they have time.

He raises his eyes to Lofty’s, excitement alighting in his chest.

“You wanna go for a flight, Lofty?”

Feathers fly as the bird straightens, shaking himself out. His proud cry reverberates around the space.

Sky leans over, presses a kiss to Sun’s lips. And then, surrounded by the echoes of oohs and awws and ews that sound from his brothers, he climbs atop the loftwing’s back and is off.

The sky is a brilliant blue today. And while it’s always a brilliant blue in Skyloft – has been since he was born – Sky can still appreciate its splendor.

Even the brightest, most joyful heavenly display in another Hyrule cannot measure up to the plush clouds and soaring ceruleans of his home. And as Lofty climbs higher and higher, he feels a wide grin stretch his lips.

It is wonderful to be home.

He had known that he missed it – this little island full of vibrancy and life. The longing had eaten at him during the long nights and dogged at his steps through their arduous journey. But he supposes he had suppressed it to an extent — denied it even — if only to keep going. If only to keep from crumbling beneath the fear that always captures him when he sets foot on firm, grounded earth.

The fear that he will never again take to the skies.

But now as Lofty turns his grand body in a barrel roll and his sailcloth lifts and the wind sings in his ears and fills his nostrils with exhilarating freshness, those dark feelings are miles away.

Lofty pauses abruptly at the tail end of the trick. Then, he dives, plunging downward so suddenly that Sky’s stomach plummets along with him. His grin grows wider even as the brisk air steals any moisture from his mouth. He’ll be choking later, more than likely. But he is used to it by now.

A dry throat is a small price to pay.

Lofty shoots up, goes down again. Another pointed spin takes out a drifting octo. Sky’s echoing whoop turns to almost giddy laughter.

“Having fun, sleepyhead?” Someone calls from his right. Sky looks up just in time to catch sight of Sun streaking towards him. Her loftwing flips upside down as they soar over his head. Her delicate fingers reach for his and for a split second, the world seems to slow.

“Sorry,” she says as their fingers brush in the ghost of a caress, “I couldn’t resist joining you.”

Lofty lets out an eager call of welcome and Sky smiles.

“I’m glad you did, Zelda.”

She smiles and the world seems to grow a little brighter.

It always does when she’s around…

“How about a race, then?” She inclines her head toward the minuscule forms standing on the edge of Skyloft. “They’ve already cast bets.”

Sky chuckles. “All in favor of you, I’m sure.”

She doesn’t reply. But her smile grows just a touch larger, a hint of mischief in it.

Sky shakes his head.

He’ll admit it hurts a little to be betrayed by his brothers in such a way. They’re right though.

The only person who could ever beat him in a fair race was Sun.

“Alright.” His grin is more fierce now, teeth bared in playful determination. “You’re on!”

Yes, he thinks as they streak toward the designated finish line, the tips of their loftwings’ wings just touching, the bond between a loftwing and their partner is strong. As strong as the love he feels for Zelda. As strong as the love he feels for his brothers.

His family.

And maybe in it’s own way…even stronger.

[spearxwind]

Here's another concept for Broken Horizon - a dragon pilot saddle! Ft. Alex as the model (and Riptide as the pilot, even if you can't see his face)

Modern saddles were jointly developed by dragons and humans post-war to make dragon riding safer and flying more precise, as regular reins and voice commands quickly became obsolete.

In these saddles the control sticks on the pilot's seat transmit inputs to the steering modules, which are then interpreted into nerve impulses for the dragon to follow. However they are not hard commands, and the dragon can still choose to ignore the impulses for any reason. This means that the dragon and the pilot must have an incredibly strong trust bond for the best performance.

[majorproblems77]

Sacred Realm updated which means im actually so excited to be making this omg

Hi there Sacred Realm fans! :D

It is I, the one who makes the analysis posts on various comics on the internet. (With permission course) Because I love doing them and they bring me joy.

If you are unaware of what Sacred Realm is, it's a Legend of Zelda AU about a new Link who gets a little medallion that makes him a badass, also it can hold the spirits of heroes from across the realms (Including my fave boy ever okay)

Before I begin, I'll get the important stuff done, This is done with permission from @zelda-the-sacred-realm, and all art from the comics belongs to the comic artist. Please do me a favour and go and check it out because it's a wonderful comic and extremely well-drawn and written.

Now, grab some popcorn, and a drink and please enjoy me rambling about a comic that I enjoy so much. :D

Lets begin!

First, some sass

Damn, possessed Link got a mouth on him. Low key I love him, he looks like he could go for round two like right now. Wouldn't be surprised if he went for the hero of time next.

My eyebrows shot up at this.

Time KNOW's

let me repeat that

TIME KNOWS. HE KNOWS WHATEVER IS IN THE MEDALLION CAUSING THIS.

(More on this later)

He knows he knows he knows he knows he knows

I can hear the mocking voice of Link while he is saying this. Time has experience with this particular entity before.

Okay, so here is when it gets interesting.

Possessed Link or this entity I suppose, referring to Time and in turn Hylians as 'Your Race' Tells me a couple of things.

This thing in the medallion isn't a Hylian spirit. So as much and as fun as a dark link theory is, I dont think it could be.

Time arguing that we're not perfect, again referring to Hylians sounds very much like an "I'm speaking with a god speech"

I present my theory on what is in the medallion.

An extra spirit, a god of some description, from the spirit realm. Out to get revenge on Hylians.

Time has been to the spirit realm, in his games. (I am under the assumption that those still occur in this canon please do correct me if I'm wrong here.)

I'm convinced that this thing in the medallion is a deity of some kind because of the eye colour. I can't get over it.

This style of blue, with no pupils.

We've seen it before.

On Hylia.

From Chapter 2 fate PT2

And here is the first time we see it on Link for comparison, With Sky's alongside him for comparison for what Hylian eyes look like.

From Chapter 2 Fate PT3

The colour isn't exact so it can't be Hylia herself I dont think, but, i believe that there is a spirit trying to escape the sacred realm and is using Link to do it.

Okay, enough of my conspiracy theories moving on!

Link you gotta wake up!

Sky thinks so, I love the coloured speech bubble, what a good idea.

OH BOY I LOVE THESE PANELS

You know those scenes in video games when you're fighting off something that's trying to possess you and you have that ominous-sounding echo that seems to reverberate through your head. But is also muffled at the same time?

(If I find a game example I'll link it)

This. Put that noise you think off over this.

KICK ITS BUTT LINK GET IT, GET BACK IN HERE.

These five panels tell so much when it comes to how much effort Link has to go through to fight off the medallion possession. I wonder if its going to be easier or harder for him to fight it off as he gains spirits in the medallion.

You can really feel his struggle and I just love it. The visual storytelling is incredible in this comic and I will fan girl about it all day because I just love it so much

I'm thinking he says this to gauge just how bad this possession is. time seems like the guy who would, especially as he already seems to know what this is.

I wonder if he really is the hero of realms?

Yes, Time. Yes, he is.

The face he dosent remember any time he's possessed by the medallion is a little worrying.

Makes me think that could be used later.

Like, Link dosent remember fighting this ice comet now. What if he fights an enemy while possessed, breaks the possession then has to relearn how to defeat it because as possessed link he's not gained any information.

Man Link is a cinnamon roll sometimes and I love him dearly okay.

Alrighty, thats me finished with my rambling. Thank you so much for sticking with me through this! And thanks again to @zelda-the-sacred-realm for the permission to do these i really appreciate it.

Please please go and check out the rest of the comic if you haven't it's amazing :D

Thats me finished for this chapter, so I'll be headed out!

Hope you have a wonderful day! :D

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #39: Gladiator's ELEVENTH Anniversary! (+ BONUS: Fic-to-Art #36...)

And here we are! March 26th arrived and I did not forget about it, but I paid for my ambitious madness with my wrist and forearm. Somehow, I finished my intended pieces on time, but I do not advise that you ever try to make 9 artworks in 3 days. No, sir. Bad life decisions, that's what that was... but this fic, as anyone knows, moves me to do things I never thought possible, starting with writing the fic itself!

It's really crazy every time it hits me that I've been doing this for as long as I have. It's been a complicated, chaotic journey, with its many ups and downs, but ultimately, it has been our journey. For some people, this is just one more fic in the pile: for me, it's been the best adventure of my life so far. Everyone who has ever been touched by Gladiator, who has ever cherished this story, who's looking forward to the big conclusion, who wants to see how the chaotic war is going to end... you're all part of this crazy adventure along with me, and I can only thank you for joining me.

This year, I had no time to make as big a project as I usually go for. Thus, I did a sort of free-for-all edition of Fic-to-Art over at Patreon and challenged myself to draw as many scenes as I could, out of their suggestions. I even sprinkled in a few scenes I impulsively wanted to draw because I loved writing them or because I look forward to writing them... and this is the result!

In order, the scenes are as follow:

Sokka combing Azula's hair, a common occurrence throughout the story.

Azula watching over a convalescing Sokka in the Chase of Jeong Jeong arc.

The outcome of Sokka's final battle in the Superior Gladiator League, namely a moment where Sokka and Azula more or less gave away their relationship's true nature to the public by raising their hands towards each other...

And now, spoiler territory! Some were by my choice, some by Patreon requests:

An important moment shortly after Sokka and Azula reunite.

Azula confronting her father, with a LOT of backup.

Xin Long's long-awaited freedom.

The aftermath of the final battle.

The full-blown confirmation of their relationship to the general Fire Nation populace.

Sokka, Azula and Hotaru's first night together

And the big final one is ACTUALLY Fic-to-Art #36 but hahaha woops I didn't post it here on time because it was super hard to finish since I had a LOT of things going on... but here it is now! :'D it's a glimpse VERY far into the future of this fic's timeline!

Alright, that should be enough talking and explaining. Some things are vague, some things aren't, but ultimately I really hope you guys will be looking forward to the scenes you haven't seen yet, and to Gladiator's eventual outcome.

So now... with all this being said and done, I'm gonna go take a trip down memory lane and watch my Tenth Anniversary video once more! Feel free to do the same thing if you'd like to commemorate the fic, I think it's a good way to experience Gladiator all over again, hahaha.

Thank you if you read all this, and if you read all THAT: 5 million word landmark, here we come! Thanks for hanging out with me across ELEVEN years of Gladiator!

[sneez]

morning in the green box [id in alt text]

[gomzdrawfr]

alrighty....angst Ghoap comic ahead, you've been warned :]

cw: angst, depiction of mental health (spiraling and breaking down)

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━⁺˚⋆｡°✩ reblogs are appreciated

Enough

:3c notes below (feel free to skip)

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 17)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

I struggle to support myself on Derrick's shoulder as he walks. I was having a hard enough time balancing when he was sitting still, so trying to steady myself as he moves definitely isn't any easier.

As I hold onto my deskmate's shirt collar for dear life, I scan the horizon for any sign of that tree. Since I was always in Derrick's hands when he walked me home before, I was never able to see too much of the surrounding area. Now that I'm up here on his shoulder, I can see everything: stores, houses, cars, and of course nature. It's unreal seeing it all with my own eyes! But as I look around, I can't seem to spot that cherry tree.

Derrick wouldn't take a detour, would he? Since the apartment is so close to the school I highly doubt it, especially since he knows how in love I am with that cherry tree. But if we haven't taken a detour... why have we been walking for so long? I know I wasn't able to see much scenery before, but why don't I recognize anything at all?

"Here we are," Derrick says.

I gaze up at the blue house in front of us. This is not my apartment.

"Um," I start, "where are we?"

"What do you mean?" Derrick asks. "This is my house."

I nearly lose my footing when my legs threaten to buckle beneath me. He took me to his house?! For the party?! Why?! What happened to asking my dad first and helping him with... that thing?!

Panic sets in as my deskmate reaches for the front door. What should I do?! I can't stay here!

"W-wait!" I stammer, hoping to get Derrick's attention.

"Yes?" He asks, a note of confusion in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"I-I— um, I think there's been a misunderstanding!" I blurt out.

"A misunderstanding?"

"Y-yeah, I... didn't think we were coming here. I thought you were taking me home."

Derrick rubs the back of his neck. "Oh. When I asked you before we left, I thought you said you wanted to come over."

My heart sinks. "I-I don't remember," I utter, my core twisting and tightening at my current predicament.

"I'm sorry," Derrick says. "If you want me to, I can turn around and take you home."

"Are you sure? You wouldn't mind it?"

"If you're not ready for this, I don't want to push you," he says as his brows turn upward.

"Then could you—"

Before I can finish answering, the front door opens.

"What's the birthday boy doing standing around out here?" asks a woman with long, wavy brown hair and big green eyes.

"Oh, we were just— I mean, I was about to—" Derrick stammers.

"Well, don't just stand there," says the woman, smiling warmly. "Come in, come in!"

The woman grabs hold of one of my deskmate's hands and pulls him into the house. The unexpected movement causes me to stumble, but Derrick catches me in his free hand before I fall and holds me close to his neck. My heart pounds and pounds in my ears as heat radiates from my reddening cheeks. I thought we were close before, but this?! This is a little too close!

"Mom, I need to—" he starts. "Hey, what's this?"

When Derrick pulls his hand away from me, I scramble to regain my composure. Once I'm able to balance myself on his shoulder I look around the room and see it's decorated with balloons, streamers, and gifts. There's even a banner that reads 'Happy Birthday John And Derrick.' I blink, cocking my head to the side as I read the sign. Who's John? My eyes widen and my heart bangs against my ribcage. How many more people are coming to this party?!

"Don't go thinking I wouldn't decorate just because your brother's not here!" Derrick's mom exclaims.

I forgot Derrick has a twin brother who's away for university. As curious as I am to see how alike the two look, I'm relieved to have another perthean out of the picture.

"Right," Derrick says. "Anyway, Mom, I need to take—"

"What do you think?" His mom asks, clasping her hands together. "I know yellow is your favorite color, so I tried to use as much of it in the decorating as I could."

"Um, it's great! But really, I need—"

"What time are your friends coming over again?"

"5:30. Which is why I need to hurry and—"

"And who's this?" The woman says, leaning towards Derrick's shoulder with her eyes fixed on me.

A shiver runs down my spine as I struggle to think of something to say. "H-hello, m-m'am," I wave.

"This is Kaylin, my deskmate," Derrick says. "And I need to take her home."

"Home? But you just got here!" Derrick's mom says with a frown.

"Well, yes, but I was only... I mean, I just wanted to show her where we live. It was on the way," my deskmate lies.

"I see," the woman says with a smile. "Well, Kaylin, you're welcome to stay if you'd like! I'm sure your deskmate would enjoy your company on his special day."

Guilt builds up in my chest. What was I thinking letting Derrick walk me all the way back home? And on his birthday, no less! He should be using this time to prepare for his party, and here I am forcing him to deal with me. Should I really be treating him like this?

My heart sinks when Derrick turns to leave. This is my last chance. Can I really do this? Will I really be able to make it through this party?

"Hey," I whisper.

Derrick stops in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"It's... okay," I mumble. "I'll stay."

"You will?" Derrick says, his eyes wide and a smile spread across his face.

"Mhm," I hum, although something deep down inside of me still wonders if this is really a good idea. "I think it would be fun to... hang out with you. Outside of school, that is."

Derrick looks down, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "It means a lot to me that you'd say that. But Kaylin," he says, shifting his gaze back to me, "are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I... um," I think for a moment, unsure of what to say. Am I really ready? Do I think I'll be able to handle this? "Well, I don't know. But what I do know is that I want to be here."

"Okay," my deskmate says. "But only if you're sure."

"Don't worry. I'm sure." I say, although the doubts running through my mind don't make me feel sure at all.

What if Derrick misplaces me in such a big house? What if a ton of people are coming over and he forgets I'm even there? What if I get stuck somewhere? What if someone doesn't notice me on a table or counter and I'm knocked around or squashed?

Anxiety wells up in my core as Derrick turns around and closes the door behind him, sealing my fate.

"Oh?" Derrick's mom pipes up from in front of the kitchen sink, where she's begun to wash dishes. "Change your mind?"

I give a shaky nod from my place on Derrick's shoulder. "I-I thought I might as well stay, since I'm here and all."

"Wonderful!" The woman smiles. "Make yourself at home! If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."

"Th-thanks," I stutter.

Mrs. Drake's brows turn upward for a moment as she smiles. As she returns to washing the dishes, I can't help but wonder if she's caught on to my fear. I need to get a hold of myself! I can't keep stuttering like this! I don't want anyone to think I have anything against pertheans!

"Derrick, honey, don't you want to change into something more comfortable before your other friends come over?" My deskmate's mom asks.

Derrick looks at me with worry in his eyes before looking back to his mom. "I don't exactly want to leave Kaylin alone. Since she's already here, I mean."

"She won't be alone. I'll be right here the whole time," Mrs. Drake beams. "And besides, I'd love to get to know her!"

My gut twists into a knot within me as my arms and legs begin to shake. Left alone with Derrick's mom?! How in the world am I going to handle that?! I immediately start to regret my decision to stay at this party as Derrick raises an open palm to his shoulder for me to step onto. Taking a deep breath, I release my grip on the collar of his shirt and carefully inch towards his hand. I don't know how I'd ever live it down if I stumbled in front of another perthean!

My deskmate lowers his hand onto the kitchen table, and I somehow manage to step onto the hard surface without flailing around much. A hollowness suddenly overtakes my core like a punch to the gut as Derrick removes his hand, leaving me stranded where I stand. The table is much lower than the average balcony, and my head starts to spin as I crane my neck back to look up at my deskmate from the wooden surface.

Noticing my struggle, Derrick crouches down in front of the table. Now he's the one looking up at me, but his size is still so overwhelming to me. He's just so... big. His face nearly fills my entire field of vision! I back up a bit, clutching at my skirt as anxiety floods my nervous system. He's so close. We were close before when I was on his shoulder and when he held me to his neck, but... this is just different. And I'm not so sure I like it.

"Will you be okay?" Derrick whispers.

I let out a deep, trembling breath. "I-I will be. You can go."

When Derrick stands to his full height, I don't dare look up at him again. I keep my head down as my heart pounds and pounds in my chest, begging me to find someplace to hide. Once Derrick leaves, the sound of the running faucet is all that fills the room.

I spin around and see Mrs. Drake continuing to work on the dishes. If I'm lucky, she won't say anything, and I'll only be waiting a short while for Derrick to come back. I figure this is as good a time as any to let Dad know I won't be home for a while. I pull my phone out of my skirt pocket and slide over to my text conversation with him. I write what comes to mind.

Won't be home until later.

I pause. What am I supposed to tell him? Do I really tell him I'm at my deskmate's birthday party? That would be a huge win in his book. I can picture my dad now gloating about how he was right in sending me to Pacific. I shake the thought away and add to the the message.

A friend wanted to hang out.

I gulp, silently hoping he won't ask any further questions, and send the message. It takes a moment, but eventually I get a single thumbs up emoticon in response. I let out a sigh of relief.

"So..." Mrs. Drake says as she glances over her shoulder at me. "Kaylin, right?"

"Mhm," I nod.

"And you're new to Pacific?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She hums in response, returning her gaze to the dishes in the sink. "And... have you always lived in town?"

"Actually, I just moved here. I was born and raised in Maedri," I answer.

"Oh, Maedri!" Mrs. Drake says with a wavering tone. "I heard they have a bustling undercity there."

"Y-yes," I stammer, "it's pretty expansive compared to Chancelor."

A moment of silence passes us by. I watch quietly as Mrs. Drake sets various plates, bowls, and utensils on a rack to dry.

"It would be easy to live entirely underground without ever seeing a perthean then, wouldn't it?" She finally asks.

My heart sinks. What's she getting at? "O-oh, I guess so," I say.

She hums again. "And... might I ask what brought you to a school like Pacific?"

I swallow dryly as my legs quiver beneath me. What am I supposed to say to that?!

"U-uhm," I start, begging my voice to come out without any more stutters, "my dad wanted me to go to his old high school."

"Ah," the woman says. "And would you say you're... handling everything well?"

She has to be onto me. Why else would she be asking me all these questions?

I'm about to answer when I hear footsteps approach from behind. Finally.

"Sorry I took so long," Derrick says, emerging from the hallway. "Kevin and Brittney are on their way, I just got off the phone with them."

As I turn around, my eyes take in every aspect of my deskmate's attire. Jeans and sneakers, a striped yellow and white t-shirt, and a gray and yellow jacket. He's dressed so... casually! I stare down at my school uniform. I feel overdressed.

Derrick chuckles at the sight of me. "Sorry you didn't get to change," he says. "Do you want to take off your blazer?"

I think about his question for a moment. I tend to feel safer with more layers on, like I'm wearing some kind of armor to protect myself from danger. Although, I don't want to risk wearing my blazer to the party and getting it dirty somehow. And maybe it's just because I'm so nervous, but it does seem to be getting hot in here despite how much cooler it typically is above ground.

"Where should I put it?" I ask, removing my blazer and letting my arms breathe through my white button down shirt.

"May I see?" Derrick asks, approaching the table and placing his hand in front of me.

I reluctantly lay my blazer atop my deskmate's fingertips, and he pinches it between his thumb and index finger before lifting it high up to his eyes.

"Wow," he whispers.

My entire body is immediately overcome by a hot flash of some kind, and I begin to tremble where I stand beneath my looming deskmate.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that!" He stammers as his face reddens. "It's just that it... and you... I mean, it's just really tiny. Not that you're... that. I mean, I would never—"

"I-it's okay," I interrupt. "I know I'm... short."

Derrick seems to relax a little at my words. He sighs. "Anyway, there's a place for this right over here," he says, carrying my blazer to a coat rack beside the front door. He hangs it on a smaller arm that seems to be designed for human items. "There."

They have a spot for human items on their coat rack? I thought for sure nothing in this house would be fit for a human!

"You look confused," my deskmate states.

I straighten my head and unfurrow my brow. "I-it's just... I didn't think you'd have something like that here."

Derrick looks back to the coat rack. "You mean a coat rack? Doesn't everyone have one of these?"

"No, I mean that," I say, pointing to the smaller arms. "Why do you have a spot for human items on your coat rack?"

"For human guests! Why else would we have it?" Derrick asks.

My mouth hangs agape at my deskmate's words. I thought items like this were something I'd only ever see in the movies! I didn't think pertheans would actually include items in their homes for human guests! Come to think of it, I didn't think pertheans would entertain human guests often— yet here I am.

"You think this is special?" Derrick laughs as he approaches the kitchen table and pulls out a chair to sit down. "Wait until you see what else we have!"

My mind swells with wonder and curiosity at the idea of there being other human-friendly items in this house.

"Derrick, honey," Mrs. Drake says, pulling me from my thoughts. "What would you like for dinner tonight?"

My heart skips a beat at her words. How could I forget about dinner?! My body trembles at the thought of sharing dinner with— who knows how many people? No, how many pertheans?

"D-dinner?" My deskmate stutters, his eyes widening with surprise.

"Yes, dinner! You said this morning you'd have to think about what you wanted and that it depended on whether or not one of your friends was coming."

Derrick turns to look down at me, his face a bit pale. "Oh yeah, um... one girl has a few allergies, but... she isn't able to make it."

"So what did you decide on, then?" His mom asks.

"Um..." Derrick starts, his brows upturned and his eyes focused on my quaking frame. Suddenly, a smile appears on his face as he turns back to his mom. "You know, actually, we won't be hungry for dinner. We all had big lunches at school."

Mrs. Drake folds her arms, tilting her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at her son. "Do you really expect me to believe that? You know, the last time something like this happened—"

Derrick abruptly pushes his chair away from the table and stands from his seat. "Mom, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Mrs. Drake nods, letting out a sigh and following my deskmate down the hall.

What's going on? Why is Derrick trying to avoid having dinner so badly? Could this be about me? What does his mom mean by 'the last time something like this happened?' Is Derrick going to tell her about my fear?

Although I know it's rude to eavesdrop, I can't help but try to listen in on the two pertheans' conversation. All I'm able to make out is some harsh whispering, interrupted by the occasional 'why.' At one point I hear Derrick whisper, 'just give me some time!'

As the duo emerges from the hallway, I try my best to look like I wasn't just poking my nose where it didn't belong. I try to ease my tremors by rubbing my arms, but it doesn't help much as Derrick and his mom resume their previous positions in the kitchen. Derrick's mom flashes a polite smile at me, only to immediately turn away and resume drying and putting away dishes. What the heck happened back there?

Bing-bong!

"Oh!" Derrick says, standing up again and heading for the door. "That must be our other guests!"

I gulp and wipe my shaking, clammy hands on my skirt. The party's about to get started, and there's no turning back now.

[hellsquills]

"Are you suggesting that I get my football prowess from fucking my wife?!" (x)

requested by: @your-dead-european-ancestor

Endless SFTH gifs [ 1 / ?? ]

[sundered-souls]

FFXIVwrite 2024 - #1

Word count: 1640 Rating: G Characters: Hanae, Raminas (random Dalmascan NPC invented for this) Archive Of Our Own version (easier to read on there imho)

Prompt: Steer

In the dead silence of Garlemald, the crunchy sound of your steps is the only one you can hear. A lone hyur with only far away mountains and a city in ruin for company, struggling not to get stuck in the snow. It's a mistake, you think, not quite for the first time, and the shivers down your spine agree with you. You're too young. Too inexperienced. What even took you to think you should help those who brought your nation to heel? Yet the Contingent doesn't have many hands to spare... and you volunteered. So you keep going, deaf to the warning of your soul—and as your destination appears before you, your pounding heart drowns out even the crunch of your steps.

You had hoped your first words would be firm. Clear. But every syllable bumps into the next and whatever comes out of your mouth is from a Spoken race in name only. In front of you, the Hrothgar looks utterly unimpressed.

"I would like to meet Ms Corvus," you finally manage after clearing your throat, your face a bright red now (you tell yourself it's from the cold, but you know. You know.) Then you state your name and your mission: you come with an offer from the Contingent. Peace and mutual aid, should the captain find their terms agreeable.

The Hrothgar somehow looks even less impressed now, but still moves his giant body from the doorstep and allows you to enter.

A welcomed warmth greets you and blinds you all at once. As you take off your glasses to clean the fog obscuring your sight, an Elezen—maybe?—joins you and offers to guide you to his leader. Well. Perhaps it was indeed a mistake if you think this is anything other than an order. But you follow anyway, and by the time your glasses are back on your nose, you're in a well-lit room decorated with taste, if soberly.

When you turn back to thank your guide, he's already gone.

You are alone.

Times passes with only the regular ticks of the clock for company. Occasionally, you hear bouts of laughter coming from somewhere else in the apartment (children, you think), but alone you are and alone you remain. You dare not sit down on a chair, comfortably as they seem to be, for fear of being deemed too familiar. But when, eventually, the smell of food reaches your nose (was it your stomach that rumbled so?), you start wondering if you've not simply been forgotten.

The warning of Maxima Priscus comes back to mind in time to stop you from venturing outside the room: the Sky Pirate is a woman of character, which is to say that she doesn't take lightly to challenges on her authority. With what was left of the Garlean nobility too busy pretending governing when they couldn't even provide for their citizens, they were the competition. The Contingent. With its offer of protection and food and the promise of more where it came from. And thus you are here, to try to convince her that competition is unnecessary when you could just become allies.

The unlikeliness of your success is a strange sort of reassurance, but it finally seems to bring you back to your senses. You look around, taking in the view with attention now that the nervousness has passed a bit. And while you're not any kind of expert of art nor finely crafted goods, you recognize the Corvosi style of some of it—not least of all the beautiful mirror hanging on a wall.

A mirror that screams at you for looking so unkempt. Unbecoming, your mind supplies before you mumble: "Oh, right. I'm an ambassador. Kinda. Shit."

After what feels like an eternity of staying still, you finally dare moving from your spot—and leave behind a puddle of water with a wince. It's not your fault, you tell yourself. The snow on your coat melted, but nobody offered to relieve you of it and they're the ones making you wait. You try to forget the beautiful wood underneath (surely it won't appreciate this much water tainting it) to focus on your reflection in the mirror and put some order back in your hair.

Just as you finish carefully folding your coat on your arm, a hidden door open in the library on your right. You almost jump out of your skin and quickly stumble to get back where you were—not unlike a child caught red-handed stealing candies. That the woman who entered the room shows all the tells of a disgusted mother doesn't help, so you straighten your back to whether the storm.

(It strikes you, however, that if not for the whiteness of her hair, she looks every bit like the Domans with which you've break bread. A bastard, you remember. The child of an adulterous Garlean noble and a maidservant.)

"I am Hanae Corvus, captain of the Argo and proud daughter of Garlemald. You came to talk to me, yes? Then talk. - It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma'am. I'm Raminas and I come today as a representative for the Alliance Delegation. We've heard you work to provide food and shelter to survivors and hoped we might find an agreement to fashion a new era of prosperity and peace for Garlemald with your help."

The words might have sounded better out of a Morbol's mouth—or so you interpret the disdain in her eyes.

"Is that how you've convinced them at Tertium? - I'm not sure I'm following...? - The Senate is full of senile cowards who would sooner take pride in our downfall than being useful. If you haven't seen the station they now call home, let me tell you how it is: warm and full of food. They think themselves leaders and justify their greed while those they pretend to lead die to the weather and hunger. That is why the "Alliance" convinced my peers at Tertium to demean themselves by surrendering to your conditions. We have no need of you here. - We didn't come as invaders... - Then you are fools."

At a loss, are you? She seems to think so, too.

"We will not force you to adhere to our ways—this gets you a sneer, though she's letting you continue—but we can help you provide for more people. - We have enough. - How? comes your question before you have enough time to think before speaking. - We have enough. This is all the knowledge you need."

You knew it would be difficult, but the idea that just on this side of the ruins there might be enough for everyone sounds wrong. The reports mentioned that the Argo was used to carry resources to Garlemald, you remember, but surely her funds aren't bottomless?

"Raminas, was it? - Yes, Ma'am. - Well, Raminas, allow me to guide you through the situation we are currently in so you can better convey my response to your masters. You came here to bring the war to Garlemald after we lost a few of our provinces and found a desolated land for your efforts. This allows you to act as forgiving saviors. A strike of sheer luck that leaves you free of atrocities in the eyes of history, and us at your mercy.

You are young, so I do not belittle you for not seeing through the lies of experienced politicians. But you should know already that if they have nothing to gain from your presence here, they will have you withdraw—and your 'help' with you. Thus do I refuse to consider you allies.

We, Garleans, will steer our nation in whichever direction will allow use to thrive with dignity, for I will not bet our people's future on those who have everything to gain from keeping us low."

What is there to answer to that, except, perhaps, what you hope might provide weight to the integrity of the Contingent.

"The Scions will make sure no political leader would abuse you."

She laughs. It is not a joyful laughter.

"This is less comforting that you think, Raminas. - Is there truly no way to convince you of the purity of our intentions? - No. - But we don't have to be enemies. - And we are not. Not unless you start taking more than is willingly given. So go. Help those idiotic enough to believe the lies. I will remain here when you won't and I will take care of them when you won't."

The end of the conversation is a blur. You don't try to convince her again. It's useless, and both of you know that now. But you wonder as she leaves the room if in fifteen, twenty years, you too will be as jaded as she is. You hope you won't.

A man comes to collect you—it's the best way your mind phrases it. You put your coat back on as you follow him inside the corridor, recognizing him as the one you took for an Elezen earlier. Only at the door leading you outside does the Garlean talk, telling you that Captain Corvus' men will ensure you arrive safe at your destination.

As he closes the door behind you, your eyes catches the golden symbol of Faram the Father decorating the hallway. You may be no fine arts expert, but you recognize a stolen sacred symbol of your faith when you see one. Yet already the Hrothgar places himself between you and the door, and you are forced to leave with no chance to retrieve what has nothing to do in this place.

And thus do you walk back to deliver her message, the crunch of your steps drowned out by the pounding of your heart, with only far away mountains, a city almost entirely in ruins and the watchful eyes of thieves for company.