#says it’s poison and IMMEDIATELY chomps down

[revlischarm]

Luffy: That meat is probably poisonous, Zoro!

Luffy: *proceeds to then eat said meat*

[alchemistc]

Karen so desperate for the hot goss despite (maybe because of) all the Mara turmoil going "Is Buck joining us?"

Karen texting Hen throughout the day for the first time in ages only she's just asking if Buck's said anything about Tommy yet.

Karen getting increasingly more annoyed at Buck because he's always oversharing about his love life but now he's keeping things to himself and...smiling at his phone and not engaging when the team teases him? What? Why?

Karen showing up at the firehouse (Gerrard is out with food poisoning...somehow) for family lunch and glaring daggers at the side of Eddie's head because he has to know something.

Karen hitting up Maddie for drinks and breaking down completely - "I just don't understand how it started with such a public display and yet none of you know anything."

Karen finally biting the bullet and digging through her contacts and then bemoaning the fact that she clears out unused contacts once a year, and nearly stealing Hen's phone before deciding to hit up Chim for the number.

Karen texting Tommy - you, me, Hen, Buck - drinks on Saturday night.

Karen leaning in across the table when Tommy and Buck show up with a confused Hen in tow. Hen gives her one of her patented "I know what you're doing" looks.

"So," Karen says, when they've settled, her eyes trying to burn a hole through the table to confirm that the angle of Tommy's arm means he's got a hand on Buck's thigh under there. "How are things."

Tommy, fully prepared to spend the next six months teasing One (1) detail a month just because he KNOWS Karen is chomping at the bit for tea, absolutely losing the battle immediately when Buck launches into a story about the last date they went on like he's been bursting at the seams to tell this story.

[generational-atrophy]

Nice blog! You wouldn't mind if I took a little chomp out of it yeah? :D

Mmmmm can I request France,Germany,England, Prussia and Russia with an s/o who really likes there accent and voice. S/o would listen to them talk all day just to hear there voice/accent? There just mesmerized by it.

Much appreciated partner and have a great day🙏🙏‼️‼️🔥🔥⁉️⁉️🪑🪑🪑🪑

(France, Germany, England, Prussia & Russia x Reader) S/O that loves their accent!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N have fun eating my blog but beware. Theres poison sometimes :)

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Oh, you do not need to tell him that. He knows. And he adores how obsessed you are with just his voice. Don’t worry, he won’t tease you too bad

But expect to be woken up a couple of times by him reading you love poems in French. Actually, he’s doing that all the time. Anytime that he can speak to you in French, he’s doing it.

“My beautiful language for a beautiful person, no?”

It’s also pretty obvious that he exaggerates his accent for you. Sure, he’s been speaking English for centuries, but you’d never guess that from how he talks to you. It’s a little childish, but he just can’t get enough of your face whenever he says anything even remotely romantic in that silky voice of his.

Whenever he catches you staring, he can’t do anything but grin, promising himself that he’ll spoil you sometime soon for being so cute.

Ludwig has never really liked his own voice that much, so at least someone does for him. He always complains it’s too harsh and too loud. And years of people judging him for his accent didn’t help that…

But he trusts you completely. If you say you want to hear him, he’ll talk as much as you want. But since you’re not giving him a prompt, you’re hearing about 1870s train logistics. He doesn’t make the rules.

He would try to be all affectionate and sweet like you want him to… but that is really not his forte. He tries! But you’ll just both end up blushing and stuttering and getting nothing done then. If it’s just his handsome accent you want though, you’re all good. He can make a manual on building an IKEA chair sound hot.

He’d rather hear YOU ramble than do so himself. Even if he does love how adorable you are when you’re so infatuated with him.

No surprise there. You’re not the first partner of his to love his voice, and you won’t be the last. Luckily that means he’s got a whole lot of experience, so he knows exactly what to say to melt your heart.

“Come on, Darling, don’t look at me like that.  Why don’t we get out of here, just me and you? How about that, Love?”

He’s not much for rambling, much less talking about himself, but he can absolutely fulfil your need for his voice elsewhere. A lot of your nights spent together will be him reading some ancient novel to you, his voice soothing as ever, until you inevitably fall asleep cuddled up next to him.

He must admit, he loves having that power over you. Being able to make you fall in love with him using nothing but his words? You’re just so cute, he can’t resist flustering you on purpose.

Well, of course you do! He’s spent centuries making sure he sounds hot as hell! But… you’re being serious right? You aren’t annoyed by how high-pitched he can get? Ok, thank god.

He is so excited once you tell him that. It’s hard to stop himself from immediately teasing you about it. After all, there isn’t a single sight that’s cuter to him than your pretty face all lost in love for him.

If you’re ever feeling down, he tries to distract you by simply telling you a long, overly complicated story from his past. Which, with those purple eyes fixed on you and a goofy smile plastered across his face, all the while his voice drips with accent, it’s hard to not get distracted.

He loves talking about himself anyway. It’s a good thing you like hearing him. Most people don’t. But that’s just what makes you two meant to be <3

Oh, you like his voice? He’s confused. You’re being serious? … why?

The poor guy is really insecure about his voice. He worries his accent is too strong, too ugly, and his voice is way too high-pitched. It seems like no one likes when he talks… they say he’s rude and weird. So… your adoration for him and how he speaks is a real shock.

Whenever you ask him to talk more, he gets all embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say! Especially if you compliment his accent, then he just freezes up and dismisses you. Anywhere you are, he’ll start talking all quietly and cover his face with his hands. But you can still see him blushing underneath them…

But once he’s used to it, he loves just narrating the things he’s doing. Sometimes you’ll wake up and come downstairs to see him coming up with some silly song about the breakfast he’s cooking you. Learning that you like hearing him has definitely made him include stuff like that in his daily routine. 

Plus, now when he wants a reaction out of you… he’ll lean into it. Rolling his r’s dramatically, whispering to you in Russian… when he wants to be, he’s quite a tease.

[bobcross1010]

RATING PJSK CHARACTERS BASED ON HOW POISONOUS THEY WOULD BE FROM THEIR HAIR (+ what their hair tastes like)

ICHIKA: 39/10. She's not poisonous. If I took a bite of her hair I think it would taste like water.

SAKI: 5/10. She has bright hair. She is very bright. But NOT colourful enough to kill me she's too sweet for that. Her hair would taste like strawberries (specifically the pink part. The yellow would taste like sweet lemonade)

HONAMI: 8/10. She'd give me a mosquito bite at most. I think her hair would taste like the bread they give you in Christian churches. People say that tastes like cardboard but I've never eaten cardboard how can I compare it

SHIHO: 10/10. Nope. Her hair tastes like dust

MINORI: 8/10. Not colourful. her caramel tasting hair is too cute to poison

HARUKA: 6/10. It sure is colourful, but not bright enough. Maybe she'll poison you a little bit. Hair tastes like blue raspberry

AIRI: 4/10. Solid bright pink. I think she'd get close to killing me tbh. Her hair would taste a cherry flavoured lollipop

SHIZUKU: 6.5/10. Pretty colour, but not poisonous enough. Her hair would taste like fresh snow :)

KOHANE: 9/10. Cute little blondie. light, but not poisonous. Her hair tastes like hair. Normal hair taste

AN: 9.5/10. Nope. Maybe the blue cuts it a bit close but she won't do anything to me. Her hair tastes like a blue raspberry SLUSHIE

AKITO: 5/10. He'd taste like weird tasting orange juice. The yellow streak is the cherry on top and I feel like his poison has a 50/50 chance of either killing you or giving you eternal life

TOYA: 7/10. His hair would taste like rain. Two toned, but not two sided. I don't think he'd poison me too much

TSUKASA: 5/10. Just like Saki. Bright, but not poisonous enough. His hair tastes like those peach gummies, hands down. Do not argue with me.

EMU: -2/10. Even BRIGHTER pink. She tastes like those raspberry maynards that I forgot the taste of. I's eat her hair and regret it on my deathbed

NENE: 5/10. I'd say she could poison me. Not too colourful, but bright wnough to cause me to take some hearts. her hair tastes like those little asian green apple hard candies.

RUI: -2057284938/10. Bite his hair and die IMMEDIATELY. My headcanon of biter Tsukasa does not mix well with this. A single LICK. ACCIDENTAL "oh you got hair in my mouth" AND YOU PERISH. YOU DIE. THAT MOTHERFUCKERS HAIR IS SO BRIGHT AND DISGUSTING JUST LOOKING AT IT POISONS ME. AUGH. AAA. OOOGH. UUAAGGH. UGH. I HATE HIM. HIS HAIR TASTES LIKE SKUNK SMELL. OR A BERRY FLAVOURED SKITTLE. ONE OR THE OTHER NO IN BETWEEN

KANADE: 7/10. Bright, but not extravagant enough. Tastes like cold hard ice from the fridge.

MAFUYU: 9.5/10. No. Not poisonous. But she's give me a mosquito bite. Hair tastes like that one raspberry drink from mcdonalds

ENA: 10/10. My queen. She poisons no one. Her hair tastes like milk chocolate.

MIZUKI: 1/10. Their hair tastes like cotton candy. Bite, chomp, it even melts in my mouth- then I perish.

BONUS (VIRTUAL SINGERS):

MIKU: 3/10. Her hair tastes like Nestea

RIN + LEN: 2/10. Way too bright. looking at it kills me. Tastes like sour patch kids

LUKA: 5/10. Tastes like a strawberry banana smoothie.

MEIKO: 9/10. Tastes like pancakes with syrup

KAITO: 10/10. Tastes like a blue raspberry flavoured popsicle.

[casualsnickers]

Month of Emmet Quick Write #16

Prompt #16: Hat

Back together at last! It's the day Ingo and Emmet are both due to feature on the Multi Line at the same time (with new pokémon to boot). And to celebrate Emmet returning to the station after a much-needed vacation, a few tag-alongs decide to show up and keep him company. One's made of acrylic, though.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

“Bossman! Your coffee has arrived!”

Emmet looked up from his stack of paperwork as both Cameron and Ramses eased their way into his shared office, the two men waltzing up to his desk saddled with bags and drink carriers. “Coffee? For me?” Emmet asked sarcastically. “Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

“We really shouldn’t have. The price has gone up a whole dollar,” Ramses grunted. “Costed me a pretty poké just to get coffee for all the joes on shift. Oh, and apparently, the heating element in the coffee shop was broken so I had them make you cold brew instead, boss. No espresso. No additives.” Ramses then plucked up a clear plastic cup and delicately set it down on the desk, rattling the ice around in the cup. “Bitter and strong, just the way you like it for some reason. Here’s your concrete juice, boss.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” Cameron commented, stealing his own drink from a drink carrier. “I thought we agreed to call it wet tar. Liquid death. Ye olden sludge- “

Emmet took an experimental sip of the almost black mixture in the cup, not quite sure how to feel about the icy temperature or the strange smoothness of the drink. The flavor of the brew was spot on, though. He took another sip, leaning back in his chair. “Concrete juice is funnier, though. Sounds like poison.”

Ramses smirked. “See? You gotta switch it up, Cam.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Says the guy that only ever orders tea from a coffee shop,” Cameron retorted, taking a muffin from one of the other bags on the desk.

“Listen here. The chai that the shop sells is amazing. Don’t you ever shit on my tea.”

“Whatever, old man.”

“Take you and your overly-sweet, tooth-rotting frappuccino out of here, Cam.”

“You’re just mad your tea has barely any flavor.”

“Stop arguing.” Emmet waved the two depot agents out of his office, immediately going back to his schedule, albeit with his mood brightened by his coffee. It wasn’t his favorite but it was quite good.

Within the hour, Emmet’s break would be over. He was due to board the Multi Line with Ingo and show him the ropes for how it worked and to Emmet’s excitement, they would get to battle in tandem. And to Emmet’s further excitement, both he and Ingo would be battling with new pokémon, something both Cameron and Cloud had been chomping at the bit to see.

The door to the office clicked open, Ingo striding in as he set down his coat on his desk. “Emmet! Good morning!” his brother called, his eyes crinkled in an easy smile.

“Good morning, Ingo!” Emmet grinned. “You seem awfully chipper today. How were the morning lines? Pleasant?”

“They were quite nice, indeed,” Ingo commented, readjusting his shirt and tie as he moved over to the private pc within their office. “Many of the commuters have been very kind and welcoming to me ever since I reappeared at this station. I have received quite a few welcome back presents.” And as if to prove his point, the moment Ingo finished up by the pc and opened his locker, a massive bag fell out and onto the floor. “...Egads.”

Emmet peered over at his brother’s locker, sighting quite a few things. Cards, pens, books, and even a few plush dolls. No foodstuffs.

“Oh! And I have something for you!”

Emmet blinked. “For me? What is it?”

Ingo fixed his hair in the locker mirror before walking over to his brother, holding out a clenched hand. “A commuter wanted me to give this to you on account of allegedly being too afraid to do so themself. Might you know anything about why that might be?”

Emmet shook his head. “I am the scary twin. You should know this by now.”

Regardless, Ingo shook his head and opened his palm revealing- 

“A shiny Joltik charm?!” Emmet immediately snatched up the item, finding out that the tiny accessory was a pin in disguise. “For me? Aww, you shouldn’t have! This is fantastic!”

“The commuter in question was adamant that you would like it. I am happy to see that they were certainly on the right track. If I happen to see them again, I will inform them that their intuition was correct.”

Emmet had a better idea. He picked up his hat from where it sat on the coat rack by the door and carefully affixed the Joltik charm to the top of his hat like a badge of honor. “There! Now, it is obvious that I received it. That way, if I happen to be near the passenger who gifted me with the charm, they will know that I liked their present.”

Ingo smiled. “Very well! But it’s nearing the end of the hour and we must be off toward the Multi platform.”

“Are you excited?” Emmet asked, rising from his chair. “This is going to be the first time we’ve battled side-by-side since you arrived home. You’re sure you’re ready?”

“Positively! I have been waiting earnestly to realign my tracks with yours and battle beside you once again.” Ingo threw his coat back on and straightened out his brand-new cap, checking the line of pokéballs at his side. “Words cannot describe how… uncanny it was not having you to battle alongside so long ago. But! Now we are both coupled together again! Do you think the passengers will be excited that we will once again be a two-car train?”

“Positively! Ingo, all of the challenger spots for the Multi Line have been booked out for an entire month. Or have you just not noticed?”

“I haven’t.” Ingo then shook his head and walked over to Emmet, handing him his coat. “Enough chit-chat. Let us be off, Emmet! We shouldn’t disappoint our challengers by delaying any further.”

“Fine, fine. Right behind you, Ingo!”

As Emmet snagged his hat off of the coat stand, he felt something wiggle around under his cap, tiny poking sensations nestling under his cap. “Hmm?” He then took off his cap, his eyes widening. “Oh! My hat is infested with Joltiks!”

“Woe, the plague be upon ye,” Ingo quoted without missing a beat. He then paused, reaching under his own cap to retrieve a plump Joltik that had tried to nest in his hair. “If only I could hide Litwicks in my own cap.”

“You could if you tried!” Emmet pointed out. “But then you’d have candle wax in your hair.”

“My hat would burst into flames, Emmet. That’s the other important thing.”

“All I’m hearing are excuses.”

[bbbexe]

Kalix's first visit to The Clergy + how I think they'd interact with the staff

(i am so tired. i spent so long trying to finish this holy hell lmao)

All characters except for Kalix belong to the amazing @eldritch-spouse!

Writing this kind of like a fic? But in order of who I think Kalix would meet first, after Vinnel it’s not super linear though.

Gallon would be first to meet Kalix.

As Kalix stumbles into the main floor / bar after the initial nausea of the pheromones fade away (I assume since Santi works here / finds clients here the place has his pheromones around), they’d initially be confused as to why there are monsters here instead of humans, but would get even more excited to make friends, since they wouldn’t have to hide a lot of themself.

Kalix glances around, trying to figure out who to approach, how to approach. They take in a breath, pushing back their anxiety. And as they do, their eyes flicker towards the barman. A yellow slime with an unforgettable red eye, taking orders and mixing drinks with outstanding precision.

Gallon - Taken over with an unbearable amount of platonic attraction, Kalix makes their way over to the yellow monster. They start up a quick conversation, complementing his skills and saying that his ability to multitask so well was amazing. As he chuckles and asks Kalix if they would like to drink. They wave their first pair of hands hurriedly, joking about how they can’t hold alcohol well. Kalix’s voice is cut off as a certain appendage chomps down on their lower arm, letting out a huff for attention. With a laugh and a roll of their eyes, Kalix orders warm honey milk in a large pint glass, pushing their tail-head, Sir, off of them. When their drink comes, they apologize to Gallon for the interruption, and tries to get back into conversation with the barman. Though they notice how his eye occasionally flickers to Sir lapping from the pint glass like a spoiled cat. They pay for the drink, giving a lot more than they should (they don’t know how prices work). When Gallon gives them a confused look, they apologize, and then pay even more. Gets embarrassed after Gallon explains they paid too much and tells him to keep the rest anyway, as a silent apology.

Likes to swap stories with the barman and subtly cause drunk people to start fights with each other. Anytime someone gets poisoned at the bar, Kalix will watch intently as the monster struggles to survive. Will time it, and then tell Gallon how long it took for them to die. Starts bets with people to see how long the poisoned survives. If Gallon wins the bets too often they'll start to get the idea that he's the one poisoning people. Would drink a poisoned drink in front of him to assert dominance and as a treat-.

Fasma - After a bit of conversation with Gallon and learning his name, they see a new monster come near the bar. A short, grey and white monster, a top hat floating above his head. A tired frown seems to have been permanently etched onto his face. Kalix waves hello to the new potential friend, introducing themself as Gallon goes to get the monster a drink. Sir licking their lips? teeth? (honestly not sure what to call it) and looking up to give the ectoplasm a toothy, drooly, grin. And then immediately seeing the poor monster as a chew toy and going in for a chomp. Gets in a few good monches on his head before Kalix takes control of their unruly limb, dying inside once again. Apologizes a lot and pays for the guy’s tab for the night.

Later when they get to know Fasma more, they'll be super interested in his stories from his youth. Will pay for his tab for the night anytime they see him at the bar, both because they like him as a friend, and because they know they're going to eventually give into the urges to chomp down on the dude.

Was about to continue conversation when-

Santi - Santi arrives at the scene! Thank god he caught this poor virgin monster before they were able to get snatched up by anyone else in this debauched place. (I imagine he just sensed a virgin and dashed to find them, just... appearing behind Kalix and being all like that “Hello there” meme)

Have you ever seen videos where a cat sees a cucumber and it’s immediate reaction is to fling itself into the air and run away at light speed?

That’s what happened.

Kalix can handle being around pheromones due to forced exposure therapy, but being directly next to the source is like drowning in an ocean. Before it was a light mist, only getting thicker here and there. But they cannot handle being around the demon as he practically leaks the stuff (He uses his pheromones to help get clients I think, so he’d def be using them to hopefully get Kalix to pay for his services). They have no problem with him personally, being near any monster with pheromones as powerful, or more powerful than him, will make them mad dash to safety.

Sir lets out a gut wrenching screech of pure terror, as Kalix launches themself away from the dude, instinctually wrapping themself in the shadows as they dash away with every drop of power they have. Deep rooted fear escaping from the corners of their mind, stabbing them with bone deep pin pricks of nausea and unwinding memories.

(Though from an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve looked fucking hilarious- Getting spooked so bad you jump into the air and run away)

When they eventually get used to being around Santi (and have a serious conversation with him and asking him please try to not fuck them or use his pheromones specifically on them) they’ll jokingly call and refer to Santi as the “sexpert”. Gets along with him well! Despite being demi ace, can and will make alot of sex jokes while around the demon. Also likes talking about books with him, and will trade recommendations.

(Don’t have a lot of details surrounding Vinnel’s shows, though I tried by reading everything with his tag and also everything surrounding Ivani, sorry if this is ooc)

Vinnel - Gets into the elevator, not knowing where its headed, or anyone surrounding them. Somehow ends up on a floor where Vinnel is doing a show. The shark monster catches Kalix’s eyes first (totally not because they’re biased towards the color purple). Then the screams came. Kalix witnessed the sheer cruelty of the puppet...? Or jester? monster. At first they were in shock as they saw the human on the stage shoved off by another, falling to their gory, watery, death. Limbs, blood, cheers, and screams, filled Kalix’s senses. As well as the intoxicatingly sweet scent of disgustingly blackened souls on stage. They instantly lost the ability to feel bad for the humans at The Clergy, the vicious actions being justified inside their mind. Was completely enamored with how the Jester killed all the humans in such fascinating, pretty ways. Slicing them open, smooth, easy, and sharp. Flesh separating from flesh, the bright red muscles exposed to the light, the human pulsing and bleeding and screaming in unending agony. The smell of ruby blood and the taste of death staining the air with unfiltered madness. Kalix had finally found a place where they wouldn’t have to hide their love of suffering (for those they feel deserve it). Instantly knew they had to be this guy’s friend.

Tracked him down after the show was over and excitedly complimented him in detail about how much of a work of art it was. It took all their willpower to not wag Sir into a coma. Sir then tried to nip at some of the gore being cleaned off the stage, and Kalix decided to cut the meeting short to go scream into their pillow back at home. Walking into the wrong bar (they realize later), the chomping of Fasma (sounds like some movie title lmao), being scared the life out of by Santi, Sir trying to eat the stuff from the stage, the poor lizard is banging their head against a wall in embarrassment.

Will not care if Vinnel is mean to them, and they are super persistent with their friendship. (more like in a ‘will somehow always find a way to compliment you, tries to brighten your day even when you’re telling them to shut up constantly’, aggressive friendship) Kalix isn’t a Fank-e 2.0 or anything, they will get hurt by more blunt mocking, but their platonic attraction is strong enough to still make them want to be friends with Vinnel. Mocking them for their bad memory will make their happy-go-lucky attitude falter for a moment, and Sir will start crying. Also he’s super friend shaped and somewhat Halloween-ish. Will gift Vinnel accessories and always has candy corn stored in their shadow to share if he wants any. (loves the confused looks they get when they just pull a bag full of candy corn out of their chest fluff) Won’t be able to tell if Vinnel is sick unless he tells them, he and basically all of the TGE staff smell sweet to Kalix. Gets noticeably happier and purrs a bit whenever Vinnel gives them the tiniest, barest compliment or thanks. Calls themself a dumbass and sees it as a sign of friendship if Vinnel calls them that as well. Will cry if he gifts them something in return.

(I’m not sure how they’d meet the other’s, but I still want to write some stuff for them as well)

Morrel - The first time they meet the resident Chef, they won’t be able to wrangle down the mischievous urges exploding throughout their mind. Immediately challenges Morrel to a cook off, and the mushroom surprisingly accepted. Probably to put Kalix in their place and humiliate them from ever going into The Clergy, and to hopefully convince others not to fuck with the chef, but hey, Kalix will take it.

When the cooking (if you can even call what Kalix does cooking) is over, Kalix manages to make the most vile looking, charred, ashy, somehow-slightly-molten, goopy, noxious smelling, is-this-even-fucking-edible, crime against cooking. (which is probably a talent all on its own)

Morrel expected the food to be bad compared to his, and to make a big show of critiquing the food in front of everyone. But this... what the actual fuck. And as Morrel yells in horror / anguish about how this can’t even be considered food, how nothing could consume this nightmare of a ‘meal’ (and that’s putting it lightly) without dying of food poisoning-

Kalix cocks their head to the side with a small laugh (their version of a smug grin). The sound of something snapping and breaking, like bones being twisted in a way they shouldn’t, emitting from the monster. Opening their mouth, Kalix's jaw unhinges, eating the abomination in one loud chomp. (they couldn’t help it, they had so show off so bad, this smug little fuck) They comment on how this was “one of the better ones”. There's a picture of Morrel's shocked expression online somewhere for sure.

Kalix is permanently banned from Morrel’s kitchen. They have a love/hate kinda relationship (Where Kalix does nice stuff to get Morrel's approval, and then does something stupid like eating their 'cooking' in front of him or telling him puns). Kalix also refuses to eat anything that isnt burnt (unless its some sort of candy).

Nebul - Stays away from Nebul. They are wildly uncomfortable around him. The fact that he trains humans specifically into pets doesn’t bother Kalix, but knowing that he trains things into being obedient shells of what they were formerly, digs up some very bad memories. Even the way he speaks / sound of his voice, sends chills up Kalix's spine. If you ever want to get the lizard off your ass, Nebul's voice is like Kalix repellent. They don’t interact much, unless Kalix has been egged on to harass the wraith or is buying something from the shop. Loves to coo at Purpur though, and mimic their chirps (you can't convince me Purpur doesn't chirp or make cute happy noises).

Patches - Kalix thinks Patches and Sitches are super cool. First off, Patches has a pumpkin head. And while Kalix is slightly disappointed that his head isn't a traditional orange color. He. Has. A. Fucking. Pumpkin. Head?!?! Another person they are somewhat aggressive with their friendship with. Will drag him outside and force this man to touch grass and relax in the garden. Otherwise, asks if they can see him do experiments. When they find out the dullahan listens to rock music, they get ecstatic. Will send Patches song recommendations every once in a while. Totally helps Stitches steal horses.

Grimbly – First mistake was meeting this guy. They were super friendly to this friend-shaped bat monster (what? He 100% looks Halloween themed, and his eyes looked super cool) giving them little gifts of candy, and drama/horror movie recommendations. But once Grimbly started being more affectionate all of a sudden, Kalix’s mind went “Haha- no.” and told the monster that they were a hardcore masochistic sub (which is half true, they’re a sadist-masochist switch). And the next day everyone working at The Clergy knew. Yippee. They don’t trust Grimbly with super personal information, but the lizard still gets along well with him. These two 100% cross dress together (Kalix gets flustered about it though, new kink unlocked?).

One time when someone opened a door into Grimbly’s face, Kalix instantly piped up with “Careful, don’t crush the twink.” Grimbly gave them a deadpanned stare, and Kalix settled their annoyed mood by making him some pretty bows to wear.

Fank-e – Oh they love this guy. Kalix likes how even on days where they don’t feel as talkative, the robot will just naturally fill the silence. Will make tons of bracelets and accessories for this guy. They think the stickers he makes are really cool as well, and likes putting most of the stickers he gives them on Sir. Will also joke about how they both have some damage to their head, and will show Fank-e their scar to make him feel better. If his face ever glitches out, they’ll comfort him by saying that they sometimes have their memories and muscles 'glitch' out as well. Sometimes it feels nice to know that you aren’t alone. Wears his bracelets often because they are fun to play/stim with and its a reminder of his friendship!

Belo – On their quest to make friends with (mostly) everyone working at TCE they met this guy. He was probably super suspicious of them at first, but Kalix turned out to be one of the few people that went out of their way to interact with Belo. And they wormed their way into his heart by rambling to him about bird and botany facts. They introduce him to bird channels on this universe’s version of youtube, and also social media accounts relating to birds. They see a part of themself in the lonely angel. Is kinda sad that he can’t eat any candy they want to give him, but will make bird related accessories and gift him bird related books to read in his free time. Lord knows this guy needs something to do with his free time.

Syb – Kalix is pretty chill with the mimic. They like to practice mimicking voices with the mimiclings in the garden. As a fellow bone chewer, they gift Sybastian some bones from their favorite brands. (Que them both in the garden making some kind of bone tier list. “No no no... human bones are wayy to brittle to be any good (I actually looked this up), yak femurs from [brand name] are so much better!” Admin is staring at them blankly, they’re used to this by now.)

Ludwig – Meets him at the bar later on. They think his taste in clothing is cool. If they find out this guy plays video games they will babble endlessly about their favorite gorror games/movies.

Admin/Krulu - Admin is their idol. They fangirl over the human so hard. As a monster who struggles to stay focused and organized, witnessing Admin’s ability to manage The Clergy is like a normal human witnessing magic for the first time. Will wax poetic occasionally to the other staff members about how cool they think Admin is. Will beg to help Admin with anything around The Clergy for free. (After they learn The Clergy has rentable rooms and move in to live there) When asked where they get their income from Kalix just mentions they’re on a paid vacation, and they doubt they’d ever be able reach their spending limit. Doesn’t know Krulu is there, though they can feel the heavy aura of death around Admin. Honestly just makes Kalix respect Admin more. Gives gifts to Admin, like with everyone else. Is hellbent on finding out what candy they like. Notice they (or Krulu) like ravens, and start decorating some of the candies like ravens. Probably worries Admin because Kalix radiates both people pleaser and gremlin energy to them. Which is a dangerous combination. I can see Kalix becoming a platonic yandere (as in they'd be fiercely loyal and kill for them) for mostly everyone (possibly a romantic yan for Vinnel? but he'd have to continuously make them jealous once they have an established relationship), and will be really sad when their vacation ends. Will still find ways to visit often, though.

Bonus!!

Kalix getting a doll from Vinnel for the first time :D

(Couldn’t fit Sir in, but I think it looks nice 👌)

[murder-popsicle]

Bucky would never admit it to anyone, but the truth was that, in the aftermath of a battle, when the fighting had stopped and she'd realized that she had made it through unscathed, she felt more heart-poundingly, blood-thrummingly alive than she had ever felt at any other moment in her life. There was a certain giddiness to the feeling, and every breath of air, scented with smoke and blood though it may have been, felt like a precious gift. She was alive, and Steve was alive, and her brothers-in-arms were alive, and wasn't that just about the best luck any of them could hope for in this day and age?

All of which was to say that this battle was over, and the Howling Commandos had won, and now they were walking the field to see if any of their enemies had survived. The chance to surrender was always offered, but unfortunately HYDRA's fanatics were more slavishly devoted to their cause than even the most ardent of the standard-issue Nazis, so they rarely took advantage of the opportunity, instead preferring to chomp down on those wretched little poison pills they all carried. But still, the formality had to be observed, because war had rules, and if you tossed those rules away, you might as well give up on the whole enterprise, sail back home, and just let the damn Nazis keep rolling over the rest of Europe.

Bucky had strong feelings about the laws of war, in no small part because she'd been subjected to several violations of them herself. Sometimes they seemed to be the only point of sanity she had to navigate by in the maelstrom of violence and death that had surrounded her for the past year. They lent a certain structure to the madness that had swept across the globe, however artificial that structure might have been, and that made it easier to sleep at night.

Or at least, it made it easier to sleep on the rare nights that she wasn't kept awake by nightmares of that Goddamn doctor.

Steve was several yards away, radioing their report back to HQ while Bucky organized their next steps, when a glimmer of light in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned to look at it head on, unslinging her rifle from her back as she did so, because in the world she was currently inhabiting, any strange phenomenon could be dangerous. After all, Steve was three times bigger than he'd been last year, and HYDRA had invented weapons that honest-to-God vaporized people, and she'd once watched the Red Skull peel his own face off over a pit of flames, so at this point there wasn't much left that seemed impossible anymore.

There was a sort of crack made of light hovering in the air about a hundred yards down the hill, and Bucky was about to order everyone to take cover when, with a sound like the world's biggest zipper had just been pulled open, the crack widened and spat out two figures -- a wolf the size of a carthorse, followed by a teenage boy who looked as though he'd walked out of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Arms & Armor exhibit, complete with what looked like a genuine longsword.

He was shouting something, though it seemed to be aimed at the wolf rather than the Howling Commandos, and Bucky noted that he sounded vaguely Scottish. The wolf itself wasn't paying him any heed, instead bounding straight towards Bucky and the others in a way that was quite alarming, and Bucky immediately raised her rifle and took aim.

"Call that thing off right now, William Wallace," she shouted. "It gets one step closer and I shoot!"

@murder-popsicle gets a starter

No one understood fully what Howard Stark was doing in his lab, night and day. They knew he helped to make weapons, and they knew those weapons kept them alive, that those weapons might very well help their side win the war, so they let him get on with it. The generals, more caught up in monitoring the success of Captain America than asking about scrap metal and wires, didn't question the archway in the corner of the room, nor did they read his notes about the 'multiverse' and 'portals between worlds.' It was an early prototype in any case, and Howard didn't really know what he was looking for, hadn't expected it to really work...

--

A year ago, Robb would have said he didn't believe in magic. He enjoyed the stories of course--like his sister, who held onto ever word their Old Nan told them about knights and princesses and happily-ever-after, Robb found himself captivated by stories of giants beyond the Wall, of the ghosts in the castle Harrenhal, of the Children of the Forest--ancient beings said to watch through the trees--and, of course, the Direwolf--ancient wolves, larger than a horse, thought to have died centuries ago, though, as the sigil of his house, its profile was woven into every flag in Winterfell. But these were stories--nothing more--tales to scare and delight children by the fire.

And then Robb had found a direwolf of his own. Not only was the wolf meant to be dead and wasn't, but Robb soon found that he could communicate with the wolf in strange and unexpected ways. It was not like talking, not exactly. It was as if the wolf could sense his very thoughts, act upon his unspoken commands. And at night, Robb could have sworn he dreamed that he was his wolf, that he would wander the forest on four paws. It was only a dream, of course, but it felt so real--and then there was that morning he'd woken up after a lengthy dream where he'd swam in the river and caught a fish between his fangs, only to find in the waking world that his wolf had, indeed, just returned from the river, fish held in his maw.

Robb could not pretend to understand this connection. He knew only that it was foolish to dismiss the unexplainable when he himself was now part of it. Of course, war had left him very little time to contemplate any of this. But when a glittering light appeared in the corner of his vision--a jagged rip in the air, as if the world itself had been peeled open--Robb was helpless but to follow it.

He had been walking the battlefield, as was his custom after a fight. Despite being named king a fortnight ago, he had not stopped fighting on the front lines, nor had he stopped counting the dead for himself. He had memorized the names of all his men so that he might know which ones had fallen, and he closed their eyes himself and helped to load them on the medics' carts for burial. As for the wounded, he thanked them each for their sacrifice and made sure they were treated properly by someone that knew far more about medicine than he did. All the while, his direwolf, Grey Wind, trotted by his side: a giant, looming beast with sleek grey fur, glowing yellow eyes, and a stature nearly as tall as Robb was at 6'1". Once, his men had feared the wolf. Now, he had become a comforting presence in their camp, their guardian, protector, and a legend spread throughout the realm.

One of his advisors was speaking to him--a report about the supplies--but this time, Robb did not hear him. His eyes were locked upon the light. "Thank you for your council," he said automatically, the formality well memorized despite his distraction. "Excuse me." Leaving his advisor standing, staring after him, several letters in hand waiting to be read, Robb hurried toward the slit in the world, wondering if anyone else could see what he did. His wolf hurried after him. As they grew closer, Robb came to a stop. "Heel," he ordered the wolf. But this time, the beast did not listen. "Grey Wind, stop. Get away from it."

But the wolf continued to move, rushing toward the gash in the air. Robb reached out for him, but too late--without a sound, the wolf vanished, as if he'd never existed before. "Grey Wind!" Robb cried out. He rushed forward, but he'd barely taken a step when it happened--a pull near his naval, the spinning of the world, and suddenly he was stumbling, scrambling to stay on his feet.

At first, he could not find a difference in their two worlds. It was dawn, and the muddy ground was soft beneath his boots, the blood thick on his hands; the early morning air was crisp and the sky gray, and screaming filled the air. These were the sounds of war, and centuries would not change that. But there was a new sound laced within the cacophony: sharper than the clashing of swords, louder than the roar of a cannonball. Robb did not have a word for 'gunfire', could not have searched his mind for the name 'bullet' even if one had pierced through him. But he knew that he was not where he'd been.

His wolf was yet again in front of him, rushing toward a group of men--and one woman--in the distance. They wore strange clothing and held even stranger weapons (were they crossbows? No. They seemed to be made of metal, but this was all Robb could discern).

"Damn you," Robb whispered, more to himself than the wolf--who was clearly not listening anyway. "Grey Wind! To me! Here."

[twsthoodstar]

Twst x Pokémon Pt. 3

This is a part 3 of the last Pokémon post I did, this time with the vice dorm leaders. Sorry this is so late, I’ve been feeling under the weather recently 😓 But I’m starting to feel better now.

Request/idea received from this Anon

Babysitting their crush’s Pokémon while they’re away. However, that task has proven more difficult than expected.

Trey Clover ♣️

Trey was both delighted and nervous when you asked him to babysit Slurpuff. He had only hoped it wouldn’t be as troublesome as certain glutinous monster cat, although he had to admit he was curious. Slurpuff looked so soft and squishy! It couldn’t be that much of a handful could it?

Well needless to say, Slurpuff was actually very helpful in the kitchen. It’s unique sense of smell helped pick the best ingredients and it was more than happy to aid in assembling the treats for the Unbirthday Party, nudging Trey to taste the batter. It reminded Trey of his little siblings back home, how they’d always try and sneak a piece.

However, it all went downhill once the part started. One by one everyone’s cakes and cookies disappeared without a trace. Unaware of the pink Pokémon sneakily using Physic to float the wonderful pastries into its mouth. But it’s cover was blown when it tried to steal Riddle’s tart, and Trey had to step in before the poor little thing lost its head.

Ruggie Bucchi 🐾

Better hope Ruggie doesn’t eat your precious little bundle of wool, might be hard to hold himself back. Shi shi shi, he’s only kidding! He wouldn’t do that to you! Unfortunately, Wooloo seemed to take that very personally and rolled away! It hadn’t even been 5 minutes and Ruggie was already chasing it down!

Poor Wooloo; perhaps leaving it in a dorm full of hungry carnivores wasn’t the greatest idea. Because it zoomed all over the place, trying to flee from any large beastmen. Though I’m sure it looked hilarious seeing the vice dorm leader chasing after a living pillow. Ruggie eventually needed Jack’s help in catching the little guy, and it surprisingly took a liking to the first year!

Wooloo was all over Jack, hiding behind his legs and nuzzling into his bushy tail. Peering at Ruggie with big nervous eyes. He hadn’t planned for this, Ruggie wanted to show you just how responsible he was all on his own, that included caring for your pet. But it couldn’t be helped. Jack hadn’t planned to babysit, but it seemed he had no other choice.

Jade Leech 🐬

(I love Psyduck so much 🥰)

Now Psyduck here is a bit of a special case, so you were a bit hesitant to leave it with Jade. Now there was nothing to worry about, Jade makes sure your Psyduck is well taken care of, he’ll pamper it to perfection. He has claimed he enjoys serving others. Although it appears Psyduck is a rather sensitive creature. But that just makes things more interesting, plus it’s adorable to boot.

Constantly rubbing it’s head, it takes in its surroundings rather slowly. It barely realized you left the room and was just recently waddling around looking for you, poor dear. 😅 Well this shouldn’t be a problem; playtime with rubber duckies, drawing a bath, Jade makes sure Psyduck is in top shape until you get back! However, there was one mishap Jade wasn’t preparing for.

It takes special skill to escape Jade’s well trained eye, and Psyduck just happened to find that perfect moment. Before it knocked into Jade’s terrarium, spilling out all kinds of plants and muck onto the floor with a big bump on its head. It was an accident, but Psyduck couldn’t shake that sudden glare in the eel’s eye. Not even when Jade rubbed its bruised head affectionately.

Floyd Leech 🦈

Oh boy, Gible was not happy about you leaving. Especially leaving its care to a stranger like Floyd. It stomped around and grumbled like a fussy toddler, aggressive to anyone that came near it. While everyone was afraid of getting their hand chewed off, Floyd remained as careless and as brave as ever. So Shrimpy left this little sharkie to be his playmate? How fun!

Gible did not want to play with Floyd, it tried making that as clear as possible. Playing basketball? Deflated. Some squeaky toys? Shredded to pieces. Dancing? It chomped the radio to bits. A yummy platter? Scarfed it down, plate and all. Floyd was clearly losing his patience and started to shift into one of his outrageously random mood swings.

Talk about bad timing when you have an angry Gible pouting across the room. Floyd, now upset the Pokémon wasn’t accepting his friendship, made the mistake of trying to squeeze it. Gible bit him 😬. Chomped right down on his hand, but suprisingly Floyd was fine. It did take Azul and Jade awhile to pry it off, then to keep Floyd from biting back! Hopefully, you’ll return soon before the Lounge ends up in shambles.

Jamil Viper 🐍

Honestly Jamil thinks your Salandit is super cool. Sly and cunning with a streak of mystery, it reminds him of himself. (You smug snake 😑) It was almost the perfect pet for himself, a powerful on way that. Now I’m sure Jamil has some experience with animals, he is Kalim’s right hand man and a servant of the Asim family, the kid knows a thing or two about parades.

So it’s a cake walk babysitting Salandit, at least for the most part. Pokémon are unpredictable creatures and unknown to Twisted Wonderland, so Jamil’s in for a big surprise when Salandit starts dripping actual v e n o m. The red liquid oozes out of its mouth as it starts to burn small holes in the carpet. Of course panics because, that carpet is expensive! And why did you have such a creature in your possession!

He was not prepared for this. Apparently it was having a scuffle with Kalim’s magic carpet, the piece of matting simply wanted to play with Scarabia’s new guest, but the poisonous fire-type took it as a threat instead. Chasing each other around like wild dogs. Reacting quickly, Jamil put it outside using Snake Whisper before things escalated, but decided to give you a call.

Rook Hunt 🏹

You thought Jade was pampering, Rook is over the moon for this fairy type! What a wonderful creature, absolutely beautiful! Rook is completely captivated by the fairy-like creature, the pure pink essence of love in its true form!~ ✨ As he puts it anyways. 😅 Rook will smother Sylveon with attention!

He’ll groom it to perfection and flaunt it to the entire dorm, this of course draws some attention. No one has ever seen a creature quite like Sylveon, with its sweet voice and flowing ribbons. And you left Rook himself in charge to take care of it isn’t that wonderful! ~ ✨ This basically turned into one big photo shoot, with Rook at the center gushing over his new friend.

He even takes Sylveon out on a hunt stroll with him. Man cries when it wraps it’s ribbons around it’s wrist. Let’s just hope no rowdy students make fun of their little adventure, they’ll have a merciless arrow drawn back ready to face them. Rook won’t tolerate gossiping, no one is allowed to tarnish the beauty you and your partner share together.

Ortho Shroud 🤖

Ortho was more than happy to take care of Pikachu for you! He was the one that actually accepted in the first place. It was just so cute and round and soft and friendly, a perfect companion for our little Ortho! Plus, he was really excited to analyze it for his database. Although, in reality he took this opportunity to get Idia out of his shell and help him.

Humans and animals were already a well known subject Ortho knew plenty about, even a few beasts were a well known species. So a loveable Pokémon shouldn’t serve a problem. While Idia wasn’t all that excited about watching a living, breathing, messy pet (virtual pets were much easier) Ortho was not having it and saw this as a good experience.

Playtime was his favorite, Pikachu was just so fast and full of energy. Zipping back and forth with a Quick Attack to chase the bouncy ball, or using its tail to play catch. It was such a cheerful little sunshine, it even shocked Ortho a bit with its cheeks. Emitting little sparks of electricity, which felt really nice. They’re both just so cute together, Idia snuck a few pictures of them napping together.

Lilia Vanrouge 🍷

Another child for Lilia to adopt!! Oh how precious! Immediately Lilia’s fawning over your cute Noibat, however, you tell Lilia to be careful as this Pokémon is quite young. Of course Lilia heads your warning and bids you a graceful farewell, before rushing off with the cutie in his arms to flaunt to his whole dorm.

Almost immediately Lilia’s going to test his cooking skills; a growing boy like that needs to eat right? Well don’t worry, chef Lilia will whip up something nice, which of course has Noibat cheering for a hot meal. The trio of terrified fae and their drowsy human: they couldn’t have Lilia kill off something so precious, you’d be heartbroken!

However, perhaps they were a bit too slow in stopping Lilia, because thanks to his magic he had already whipped up a horrendous looking hole of soup. But what had everyone’s jaws dropping was that Noibat enjoyed it! It even cooed for seconds, nudging Lilia with the bowl. Of course Lilia was over the moon, he’ll have to ask to babysit more often.

[reinvent-and-believe]

48 from dialogue prompts + 50 from wordless i-love-yous for geraskier?

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

--

It catches Geralt’s eye while he haggles over an outrageously priced jar of alchemy paste with a none-too-impressed herbalist on the outskirts of Novigrad, a buxom widow with thick-braided auburn hair by the name of Irmina.

“This for sale too?” He picks up the brooch from the countertop where it rests in a beam of golden light streaming through a dingy window. He examines it. It’s simple enough metalwork, a brass oval with a scalloped edge, but inlaid in its face is a single pressed yellow flower framed by tiny white blooms encased in resin.

The herbalist’s dour demeanour brightens immediately. “It is indeed!” she answers, her brown eyes shining in a plump, suddenly pleasant face. “Made it myself just last week. It’s something of a hobby of mine, making pretty knick-knacks from the flowers we can’t sell. Got plenty more like this if you’d like to peruse ‘em, master witcher! Forget-me-nots and arenaria, hellebore, violets, any flower you might like.”

A buttercup, he realizes belatedly. That’s the yellow flower in the center.

“No.” He sees Irmina’s brow furrow in offense, so he hastens to appease her. “No need, I’ll take this one. I...I’m partial to buttercups.”

Her freckled face breaks into a sly, knowing smile. “Oh, aye, I’m sure someone is partial to buttercups.” She winks, waving away his stammered attempts at an answer. “Never you mind, I know a man besotted when I see one, and it seems a witcher’s not so different. Tell you what. Fifty crowns for the paste and I’ll throw the brooch in for only ten.”

-

Leaving the herbalist’s shop with an overpriced paste, a lighter purse, and a useless trinket, Geralt curses himself for a fool.

He’s not sure why he bought it.

He knows buttercups are Jaskier’s favorite, of course. “None but the noblest of flowers for my sobriquet!” Jaskier had squawked indignantly when Geralt once made the grave mistake of referring to the pesky things as weeds after he’d stopped Roach from chomping on a patch of the bright, poisonous blooms.

They are weeds, buttercups. They serve no function. They can’t be used in any of the potions, decoctions, or oils Geralt brews, nor do they have any particularly helpful curative properties for humans.

“As ever, my dear witcher, you have no sense of poetry,” Jaskier had sighed in a most put-upon voice when told as much. “Their function is they’re pretty. Their function is to enrich our lives through the beauty of the natural world.” He’d looked to the sky, tip of his tongue between his teeth showing through his frown as was his custom when puzzling through the right way to turn a phrase. “From a strictly utilitarian perspective, perhaps the buttercup has less value than, say, moleyarrow, or verbena, or chamomile, even. Some plants provide nutritional or medicinal or alchemical qualities of various sorts. But some exist to make life worth living! To transform the banal into the sublime.” He’d plucked a buttercup from the roadside, twirling it between his long fingers. “It’s graceful and balanced, effortlessly beautiful. It’s vibrant, bright like...like sunlight, on a summer afternoon! And when you see it growing alongside the various and sundry flora, it fills you with the loveliest burst of warmth, like a lover’s smile.”

“So...it’s a pretty weed.”

“You’re incorrigible, witcher, that’s what you are.” Jaskier had huffed dramatically before tucking the buttercup behind Geralt’s ear, his face alight with a delighted grin.

Like sunlight on a summer afternoon.

-

The Kingfisher Inn is crowded when Geralt arrives. He goes to the bar, orders an ale from Olivier, and leans against the counter to take a look at the stage.

Jaskier loves playing the Kingfisher. In many of the inns he plays across the Continent, he’s relegated to a corner to try to sing over the clang of dinner, his only option to win the common folk over a raucous drinking song or a filthy ditty. And while the bard doesn’t shy away from such vulgarities, the patrons of the Kingfisher tend to be of a more artistically inclined ilk, responding with appropriate gusto to the virtuosic art songs that he rarely performs outside of competitions or Oxenfurt.

Or so he’d explained to Geralt when he’d suggested they meet up at the inn.

Jaskier sits atop a tall stool on a rather large stage framed by crimson curtains, his sky-blue doublet a vivid contrast. The audience, enraptured, listens to his ballad, a melancholy tale of a fair maiden who’s violently killed before she can profess her love to a farmhand in her village, a beautiful, strong, kind man whose hair shines like a blaze of pale fire in the sunlight. Her love for him tethers her to this world, and her spirit—bitter, weary, and endlessly yearning—calls the men working in the fields to join her dance at midday, when the sun is in its zenith, hoping against hope for the chance to finally confess to her beloved.

In the end, the brave, noble farmhand sacrifices himself, hoping to stop the spirit’s killings by listening to her song and joining her as she beckons. And as they are reunited, as she finally kisses the lips she’s longed for in a blinding blaze of sunlight, they pass on together, their spirits becoming one.

It’s a contract Geralt worked a few years ago, a noonwraith outside Oreton—or at least something close. As ever, Jaskier has taken artistic liberties, romanticized the actual events (“Sometimes, in our pursuit of Truth, we must sacrifice the facts,” Jaskier loftily explained on more than one occasion. He seemed quite taken with the profundity he seemed to find in the statement. Geralt called it pretentious once and Jaskier hurled a chunk of bread at his head). Once it might have bothered Geralt, but he’s grown accustomed to Jaskier’s rather malleable relationship with veracity in his ballads. There’s no denying the impact of his storytelling: when Geralt glances around the inn, he sees several patrons discreetly dabbing at their eyes.

It’d been an ugly case, leaving him feeling empty, drained. Noonwraiths haunt his thoughts far longer than most the monsters he dispatches. They’re victims of circumstance more than anything, young women who’ve been transformed into bloodthirsty, violent spirits through no fault of their own, through the violence inflicted upon them. Nearly forty men had fallen prey to her before the farmhand distracted her with his kiss—though Geralt would hesitate to classify his grotesque, gruesome sacrifice as such—so the witcher had a chance to strike her down with silver. Jaskier has spun the miserable tale into something beautiful, moving, something that clearly resonates with his captivated audience, that speaks to a greater force at work than the chaotic, banal evils the witcher sees every day, and Geralt thinks he understands, for a moment, what the bard had told him of Truth and facts.

(Geralt doesn’t know what greater Truth is served by changing the beloved farmhand’s hair from the dull brown it really was to “a blaze of pale fire,” but then, Geralt’s not a poet.)

The final notes hang in the air, all eyes fixed on Jaskier for a rapt, breathless moment before the room bursts into wild applause. Jaskier stands and bows deeply, once, twice, a third time, surveying the room as he offers his thanks. When his gaze catches Geralt at the bar, his expression of showman’s grace vanishes, a flash of something that looks almost alarmed for a split second before it’s replaced by a small, gentle smile.

Geralt nods and raises his mug toward the stage in cheers, draining the remainder. Jaskier is quickly swept into the swarm of captivated fans, accepting their praises with a gracious, if distracted, smile.

The witcher turns back to the barkeep to order himself another ale along with a glass of wine.

“Geralt!” Jaskier swerves to avoid a near-collision with a frenzied barmaid on his way to join his companion at the bar. He grabs the wine glass with a groan of appreciation, taking a swig before asking, “Is this for me? Gods, but you’re a marvel, darling, I thank you.” He takes another sip and sends a disarming, roguish wink to a pair of girls staring at him and giggling to each other. “I wasn’t sure when you’d arrive, but it wouldn’t have mattered, I suppose, they only had one room to let when I checked in and it hasn’t cleared out since. You’ll share mine, of course, but I’ve been here a week so, you know, best brace yourself, I’ve quite made the place my own.”

Geralt snorts. He’s stayed in enough rooms that Jaskier has made his own over the past decade to predict with some certainty what mess he’ll soon venture into.

(Doublets draped over furniture after they’ve been discarded; crumpled sheets of paper tossed near, never in the fireplace; a few near-empty bottles of wine; a shirt hung to dry over the modesty screen between the sleeping and bathing areas; bottles of a dozen oils and perfumes and soaps scattered haphazard near the tub; an unmade bed that may well contain an abandoned undergarment or forgotten stocking left by some well-satisfied guest.)

“Have you eaten? Shall we? I’m starved, felt jittery all afternoon and didn’t eat a damned thing which was all well and good until I got onstage and suddenly wished for a fainting couch. Or we could take your things up to the room first, of course. Oh! We could have them bring our dinner up to us, it’s awfully crowded down here tonight and I’m not sure I’m up to socializing all evening, to be honest, I’ve been dreadfully out of sorts, did you notice, Geralt, that I’ve…”

Jaskier continues his ramblings, and the witcher can’t help a twinge of worry for his friend. It’s not unheard of for Jaskier to be in a heightened state over a particularly important performance, but usually afterwards the nerves dissipate and he seems more himself. Not to mention, why would playing in an inn prompt such anxieties? Even if the Kingfisher clientele trends toward the more refined than the country folk he often plays for, it’s still rather a low-stakes environment to trigger such stress.

“New song?” he asks casually. Jaskier always beams when he notices such things, when he makes an effort to ask about his music.

Instead, Jaskier blushes, looking away with an expression that almost seems guilty. “Ah, yes, well, I wasn’t certain when you’d be arriving, of course, I thought I might try out something different, a sort of test audience, as it were, to feel out the piece before I use it for anything important.” The look he’s fixed on Geralt seems almost wary. “Did you...like the song?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not quite how it happened,” he grumbles, out of habit more than anything.

A smile, genuine and rueful, breaks out on Jaskier’s face. “Gods, I’ve missed you, my friend,” he says, shaking his head and looking away quickly.

“Hmm.” He reaches quickly into the coin pouch at his side, thrusting the trinket from the herbalist into Jaskier’s hand with a brusque, “Here.”

“Whatever have we got…” He cuts off as opens his palm. “Oh.”

There have been so few times over the years that Geralt has seen Jaskier speechless that he begins to worry he’s offended him. He turns the brooch over in his hands, once, twice, his thumb swiping gently over its smooth enamel face. He doesn’t look up.

Even in the crowded room, Geralt can smell the shift in his demeanor, the muted sickly-sweet anxious smell becoming something sharp, metallic, pained, like he’s been stabbed. “You’re upset.”

“I...no.” Jaskier shoves the brooch into his trouser pocket, a tense smile on his face, not at all reaching his eyes. “Thank you, Geralt, it’s lovely. Shall we take your bags to the room now?”

“I didn’t...I didn’t get it to upset you.”

Jaskier laughs, a broken thing, and Geralt grows even more alarmed. “You didn’t, it isn’t that, sometimes I want things I can’t have is all.” He grabs the saddlebag sitting at Geralt’s feet, not meeting his eyes as he rushes past him up the stairs to the last bedroom in the hall.

Geralt follows after a moment, giving his companion a respectful distance. There’s a tightness in his shoulders, a knot in his gut that only grows as he watches Jaskier’s hand tremble on the key as he unlocks the door.

It was a stupid idea. He knew it was stupid when he bought it, yet he bought it anyway, somehow ruined everything anyway.

“Here we are.” Jaskier’s voice is filled with a forced cheer as he sets the bag down, hand never leaving the doorknob. “I’ll go fetch us some supper. Or, actually, you know, now that I think of it, I’ve a few errands to run before it gets too late, meant to do it earlier but you know how it goes, lost track of time…”

“Jaskier.” Geralt moves toward him but stops himself, helpless. “Please. I’m sorry I upset you.”

Jaskier stands in the doorway for another moment. He takes a deep breath, closes the door, and walks slowly to the writing desk in the corner. He pulls the chair out, moving the doublet strewn across it before sitting. He doesn’t look at Geralt.

“You didn’t.” Every word is calculated, deliberate. “What kind of ungrateful wretch gets upset over...over an exceptionally thoughtful gift from a friend after a time apart?”

Geralt sits on the edge of the bed. His elbows rest on his knees, fingers locking together as he stares at the floor. “You’re not a wretch. The fault is mine.”

“Dammit, Geralt, there isn’t fault, I only—why did you bring me a gift?”

Geralt frowns. “I’ve bought you things before,” he says slowly.

“Things, yes!” Jaskier vaults from the chair, pacing listlessly about the room, no longer trying to mask his inexplicable distress. “Lute strings when I broke a string and I was low on coin. The lute is my livelihood, it made financial sense for you to replace the string so I could pull my own weight, help you when we pass through several towns in a row with no contracts. Boots when you noticed the hole in the heel of my old pair, because I slow you down limping about in footwear that’s falling apart. Room and board, sometimes, because you know I’m good for it, I’ll cover you the next time.” He’s stopped pacing, stares silent into the fireplace.

“Wasn’t keeping a tab.” Geralt’s voice is quiet. “You needed strings and boots and food and a room.”

Jaskier doesn’t turn to face him, but Geralt sees his hand slip into his pocket, pull out the brooch. His head bends, studying it.

He’s not offended or annoyed or angered by the gift. He’s hurt. But why?

Except...

Jaskier looked guilty when Geralt brought up the song. Like he’d been caught red-handed. Did you like it? he’d asked. Incredulous.

The noonwraith singing her song in hopes that her beloved hears her confession. That he’ll hear her song of longing and come to her.

Hair like a blaze of pale fire, not dull brown.

Sometimes I want things I can’t have.

“Geralt?”

The witcher snaps back to attention, eyes fixed on Jaskier, finally facing him.

“Why did you get it for me, Geralt?”

Geralt frowns. “It’s...pretty,” he starts lamely. “I thought you might wear it when you play. You wear gaudy things.”

Jaskier snorts, a small, crooked grin on his lips.

“It made me think of you,” he confesses quietly, his eyes tracing the wood grain of the floor. “Sometimes...things don’t have to have a function. It was a buttercup and it was pretty and it…made me think of you.”

When Geralt dares to raise his eyes, Jaskier’s staring at him, brows drawn together and mouth slightly agape. After a moment, he walks toward the witcher, sitting carefully beside him on the bed. He reaches his hand towards Geralt’s and presses the little brooch into his palm.

“Will you pin it on me?” he asks softly.

Geralt nods.

His fingers feel thick and clumsy as he fumbles with the delicate clasp. The top few buttons of Jaskier’s doublet, as ever, are undone, but it closes neatly just beneath his exposed neck. Geralt slips a finger beneath the satin fabric to pull it away from his throat, cautiously piercing the fabric with the thin pin and sliding it into its slot, locking the clasp with shaking hands.

His hand doesn’t move from Jaskier’s chest. A sword-calloused thumb, seemingly of its own volition, grazes lightly over the bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Geralt.”

He looks up, almost pulls away but for the flushed cheeks, the tongue that darts out to wet pink lips, the hooded eyes beneath dark lashes fixed on Geralt’s mouth. Jaskier’s breath is warm against his face. When did they draw so close?

“Are you going to kiss me, Geralt?” The breathy whisper is laced with wonder.

And he didn’t...didn’t buy the brooch to entice Jaskier into anything, didn’t mean to solicit any sort of reward, and he opens his mouth to tell him so, yet as his rough hand moves to gently cup the back of Jaskier’s neck the words that tumble out instead are, “I’d like to.”

And Jaskier throws back his head and laughs, a euphoric, intoxicated sound, as his lovely hands cradle Geralt’s face. He brings his forehead to rest against Geralt’s as they still, breathing each other for a moment before Jaskier surges forward to capture his lips.

His kiss tastes like sunlight.

[ovtfoxed]

places a snack down near spot she has seen movement, moving to wait patiently in distance whether she can lure her out, or not. (I love foxes! Hope this ok -u-)

Foxtrot is... wary, to say the least. She's always a little bit wary, really, all things considered, but the turbofox cassetticon is hungry and she's not been able to scavenge for any energon for a while. So the smell of some snacks, fresh ones too, certainly draw her attention. She keeps her distance, moving in slowly bit by bit until she's close enough to get a good sniff.

They're not tainted, or poison, and she can't hear anyone in the immediate distance... at least no one close enough she couldn't run from if she really had to. So she very carefully hunches down, sitting back on her haunches to take one of the treats into her mouth to chomp it down.

[iamonlypartlymajestic]

My First D&D Character Died (And I’m Sad)

Cindy Wants To Go Home

Cindy stares down creepy beaded eyes as the Mind Flayer turns towards her. She is like, totally not scared of him—it?—whatever! 

She would have rolled her eyes and scoffed if she wasn’t completely paralyzed from head to toe. Which sucks by the way. At least she was able to use the magic staff she took from the hag earlier. She even got first hit, so hah! When she gets out of this stupid magic spell, she is soooo gonna smack the Mind Flayer with some more lightning and maybe even some extra thunder too!

From her position, she can just barely see Solvier run to Papa Hymn and smack him in the face. She guesses that’s one way to wake the man up? Maybe getting slapped would help her...but wait. she’s awake though. Just unable to move, but awake. 

Did she mention how much this whole thing sucks?!

She can’t even see Chomp or Mama Naoyu. She hopes they’re okay. Mama Naoyu is like, a million years old, so she’s probably not even fazed. She’s so cool. And Chomp is the best fighter in their whole group, she literally spent a whole battle chasing down the bad guy while swinging her gigantic axe. If she’s annoyed at being stuck, just imagine how pissed—

In a blink of an eye, the Mind Flayer rushes up to Cindy’s face. From this miniscule distance, its rotting breath puffs onto Cindy’s face. The only reason why she doesn’t flinch from the smell and gross humidity is the stunning spell. Its facial tentacles float around her peripheral vision almost tantalizingly. Her eyes flicker back and forth among the large span of its face, trying to take in the freakishness of this being. 

She won’t lie. If she didn’t have her goblin bone boyfriend and she could actually open her mouth, she would probably try to hit on it. Tentacles and monstrous is soooo her type, it’s beyond ridiculous. 

Two of its tentacles go completely out of sight and wrap around her upper body. The tentacles squeeze immediately, their oily slick soaking through her clothing. Ewwwww. Nevermind on the hitting on it….Or maybe?

Focus Cindy!!! Now’s not the time as Mama Naoyu and Eirv would say. 

The tentacles continue to tighten and Cindy’s tense body tries to focus on expanding her lungs as much as it can in the decreasing space of her chest. Her eyes start to lose focus and her ears ring at the pressure. She wheezes and wheezes. 

Through her blurry vision she sees Eirv and Solomon surge towards the Mind Flayer. She cheers them on from inside her mind. She knows they'll get her out of the monster’s sticky grasp. They’ll free her, and then the spell will wear off from everyone else, and then Solvier will wake Papa Hymn up, and then they’ll all kick this Mind Flayer’s ass all the way to space. And then! The gang will fight that spoiled whiny brat, Horsefly, and his religious racist of an uncle! Then! All of us will be the new kings, and queens, and princesses of Vrrariski!!! 

Cindy gasps from both having her breath forcibly taken away from her and from excitement at the thought. But mostly from excitement, she’s pretty sure. 

But Eirv and Solomon don’t end up freeing her. 

Eirv stabs the Mind Flayer with her cool dragon fang dagger and the poison seeps through the Mind Flayer’s amphibious skin. But the threads of poison disappear as quickly as it travels.

At the same time Solomon’s hand which sparks and sizzles with glowing magic gets stopped by the Mind Flayer’s own claw-like hand. Immediately, Solomon’s magic fizzles out.

The Mind Flayer doesn’t even look at either of them, as if they were just persistent flies buzzing around his head. It continues to stare its dull eyes at Cindy and keeps on squeezing. 

Chills run through Cindy’s body. 

They’re going to rescue her. She knows it! 

Dread fills her head and boils down to her heart. 

Solvier will think of a crazy amazing idea and maybe...maybe he’ll get the Mind Flayer to join his unionized shadows!!

Her eyes begin to burn and tears well up. There’s no more air left for her to wheeze.

At any moment now, Chomp will tackle this son of a bitch and beat him to pulp!

A sharp piercing, unbearable pain begins to drill through her head. She realizes she has lost track of the Mind Flayer’s two remaining tentacles. Where are they?! 

Where are they?! Her head hurts. Everything hurts. 

Mama Naoyu and Papa Hymn w-will take her back to the city so she can pick...pick up her gold skull from the jewelry shop. And then she’ll go shopping for cute—

Cute.

Cindy gags at the sudden gush of vomit that rises up her throat and some spill out her slack open mouth. A sour burn melts her throat and her non functioning lungs.

“Cindy! Welcome home your new brother and sister.”

Her body tingles as if millions of pins were pricking into her skin and then soon give way to a crawling numbness. 

She’s screaming for the Mind Flayer to stop. It hurts. She knows she’s begging as loud as her voice can go. 

She’s long since been unable to hear anything around her. But she’s so sure. She’s so sure she’s loud in her brain, but maybe the pounding is louder. Maybe that’s why the Mind Flayer won’t stop—won’t stop.  

“Sebastian was killed in the fire, Cindy. We know he saved you…”

“Would you like to travel—”

“—the royal cephalopod—”

“—belong to the Dark Tyrant.”

One by one her memories get pushed out her head, the space being taken over by bounding constant pain. Flashes of white and darkness. 

Mommy....Daddy.

Dark Tyrant! Make this stop! Please! Are you there?! 

MommyDaddyDarkTyrantMommyDaddyMommyMommyMommy

I want to go home! 

She screams and screams and screams…

“Don’t be afraid…”

Somehow from deep within the searing pain and her cries, she hears a soothing voice. Cindy has to use the last remains of her consciousness to try to recognize who that is.

“...we’re here with you.” Mama Naoyu? Mama! 

Cindy’s lips tremble around empty air, she can’t respond back. She gags again.

“...It’ll all be over soon…”

It’ll all be over soon.

Soon.

Cindy will be home soon.

NOTES:

I play(ed) a Valley Girl Elven Warlock named Cindy. She’s 16 and worships a tentacle monster.

@daughter-of-inklings plays the Kitsune Bard/Badass Naoyu

@awildtrashcan​ plays OP Barbarian and Literal Pig, Chomp

[shirtlesssammy]

1x02: Wendigo

Then:

No Chick Flick Moments

Now:

In Blackwater Ridge, Colorado, three dudes enjoy the wilderness by gaming inside their tent. Something stalks their campsite from the shadows but the unattended fire that’s dangerously close to their flammable homes must be keeping it at bay, right? Erm, well, one dude heads out to the little boy’s room (a nearby tree) and gets snatched. 

Another one pops his head out the tent door and gets snatched as well. The third dude kills his light and watches the shadow of a very fast creature circle his tent until it slashes the side and snatches him as well. 

Palo Alto, California

Sam’s visiting Jessica’s grave. It really didn’t affect me the first time I watched this. It’s devastating to watch now though. Knowing Sam now --knowing how he doesn’t let people in, knowing how he didn’t even really let Jess in but loved her and wanted this world he could never have with her. Knowing that it’s fifteen years later and he’s had no one to really be with (Amelia was a construct of his damaged brain when forced to face the supernatural without Dean or Cas. I will not be taking questions at this time.) (But I guess he gets a blurry wife so ALLS GOOD FOR SAMMY.) He tells Jessica, “I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth.” Gah. Nothing could have saved her, and he has to go another fifteen years before he realizes this for good. 

Psych! He was actually dreaming, but I hold firm with my thoughts on the dream scene. 

Dean asks if Sam is okay. 

Sam says yes and clears his throat. Classic! Then Dean asks if Sam wants to drive for a while. GAH. Like, Dean’s looking out for his little bro in the only way he knows right now --letting him drive. 

They discuss leaving Palo Alto, and Dean points out that if they’re going to find the thing that killed Jess, they have to find their dad. He’s sending them to Colorado. Specifically to a National Forest in Lost Creek, Colorado. 

They get to the warden’s station and introduce themselves as Environmental Study majors from UC-Boulder. “Recycle, man.” Bbys. The ranger sees right through their bullshit though. He asks if they’re friends with “that Hailey girl.” Dean sees his chance to learn more and leans into it. Hayley apparently has a brother that’s on Blackwater Ridge. He isn’t technically missing but she knows something is up. 

Dean gets the brother’s camping permit. And now I need to process the next couple of lines. Sam asks if Dean wants a hook up with Hailey. Like, fuck you Sam for not knowing your brother at all, but also I guess you’re forgiven because your brother does do everything in his power to project that kind of energy. However, Dean is working the case and wants to know what they’re dealing with on this mountain. 

Dean and Sam head over to Hailey’s to ask her about her brother, Tommy. They say they’re rangers.

Hailey gets on Dean’s good side by complementing his car. Hailey tells the brothers that she feels something is wrong because Tommy checks in every day via his cell and satellite phone. Hailey’s heading out first thing in the morning to try and find him. 

Later at a bar, Sam “NERD” Winchester pulls out his extensive research on the area. People disappear on the ridge every 23 years. There was one survivor in 1959. They go to interview him. He tries to stick to the grizzly bear story, but eventually admits that they won’t believe him since no one else ever did. He said it moved fast and came into their cabin. It took his parents and left him with a horrible scar. 

The next morning, Sam and Dean meet up with Hayley, her brother Ben, and the guide, Roy. The guide is skeptical but Dean just wants to help find her brother. 

Cut to Tommy tied up in a cave. He wakes just in time to watch one of his friends get chomped to pieces by the monster. 

Dean and Roy try to out alpha each other. Roy finds a bear trap and saves Dean from a nasty injury. I’m over here wondering wtf that’s doing in the middle of a national forest. 

Hayley calls Dean out on their lack of provisions and wants to know who they are. He comes clean and tells her that they’re brothers looking for their father. But also, uh, Dean wearing jeans and boots is way more practical than SHORTS when hiking. Who wants to fuck around with ticks and poison ivy? All these years we thought Dean was just posturing about shorts when he was actually being a practical son of a bitch. 

They reach the ridge and hear absolutely nothing. Roy decides he’s going to wander off alone. Solid choice, dude. The rest stick together. Soon they hear Roy call for Hailey. They run to him. They find her brother’s destroyed campsite. They find tracks of where the bodies were dragged and Tommy’s destroyed phone.

They explore the campsite, which is torn to absolute bits. Dean tracks the struggle to just outside of the campsite, where the trail quickly grows cold. Everyone gets lured further into the woods by desperate cries for help but it gets them nowhere. When they return to the destroyed camp, Sam pulls out their dad’s journal and they use it to pinpoint the monster: it’s a wendigo. 

They hunker down for the night at the camp, and Dean protects them with Anasazi symbols drawn in the dirt. Soooooooooo in one breath you’re telling me that wendigo are found around the upper midwest / Canada, and in the next you’re telling me that the Anasazi (Southwestern/Western US) created widely-established protections against the wendigo? STARES DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA. The timelines! The geographic areas! Sigh...Supernatural ain’t ever had that good of a track record.

Dean tries to unpack Sam’s gourd. Sam doesn’t want to waste time hunting a wendigo when he can find their dad and hunt for what killed Jess instead. Dean holds out John Winchester’s journal like it’s a friggin’ (gags a little) bible and delivers the now-iconic line: “I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam wants to know why John doesn’t just call his boys and give them an update - “It makes no sense.” OMG RIGHT, SAM? #JohnWinchester’sA+Parenting 

Dean tells Sam that helping other people and other families is what helps him make it through each day. We cry in Dean’s face a little, even when he immediately attempts to mask his empathy in his very next (also iconic) line: “Let me tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

Pleas for help start to echo through the woods again. Roy fires indiscriminately into the trees and races after his prey, sight unseen. Hands grab him by the head and haul him up into the trees. Everyone else makes it through the night safely and Roy’s demise reminds us that toxic masculinity KILLS.

The next morning, Sam’s moodily staring at their dad’s journal while Dean chats with Haley about the hunt. 

For LOOK AT THIS BEAN Science:

We get info-dumped a truly mixed bag of lore, attributing wendigo tales to the Cree people (right region, at least!) and saying that wendigo are created by cannibalistic acts gone into overdrive. The implication here is that cannibalism equals power but alas, it also turns one into a monster. Wendigo like to squirrel away humans like nuts, so Haley’s brother might be alive and trapped for later snacking. And they can kill it! Kill it with fire. 

Cut to Dean striding through the woods with a molotov cocktail in hand. THAT’S MY BOY. They follow an easy trail of bloody claw marks along the trees. Too late, Sam realizes it was TOO EASY.  Roy’s body drops from the canopy and the group splinters as they flee. Dean and Haley get nabbed, leaving Sam and Ben to find their missing siblings. Ben finally gets some lines, alerting Sam to Dean’s breadcrumb trail of peanut M&Ms.

They head into a defunct mine. (Speak friend and enter?) Growls echo through the darkened tunnels, but Sam and Ben discover the body storage by accident when they fall through floor boards into a lower level. They discover Haley and Dean trussed up and free them. Tommy’s there too! And still alive! 

Dean finds some flare guns and they make their way out of the tunnels. Dean tries to lure the wendigo away from the siblings and Sam. All his attempts are for naught, because the wendigo tries to attack Sam, and the three siblings. It’s okay, though! Dean fires a flare gun right into its gut and it burns into embers.

Later at the ranger’s station, they spin tales to the cops about a grizzly. 

Haley thanks Dean with a gentle kiss, and Dean watches the siblings leave with a fond and wistful expression. JENSEN ACKLES YOUR FACE IS A MENACE!

The Winchesters hit the road, Sam behind the wheel of the Impala. Time to hunt some evil sons of bitches and play some classic rock!

Oh sweetheart, I don’t do quotes:

Recycle, man

Nobody likes a skeptic

I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business

Man, I hate camping

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[kitchenangst]

Before Anything Good pt. 2

Mako x reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Barely one month of living on the streets, and Mako has grown skeptical of anything good that’s offered freely to him. When the girl from the other side of town calls him stinky and demands he take a shower, he might just be right about his newfound cynicism.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: brief implied abusive relationship, language, dialogue heavy, Bolin being comedy relief, this is literally just filler goofiness lol

A/N: New game, drink water every time anyone is called stinky hehe I was going to update this on the weekend but got too excited! also can we get an F for my keyboard pls it doesn’t want to cooperate anymore,, anyway pls let me know if there are any errors! 

part i | part iii

After exchanging transactions and names, the three sat on a bench outside with a hefty bag of baked goods. Bolin bounced in his seat as he patiently waited for the girl, who introduced herself as Yn, to pass him his bread before eating her own. She reached into the bag with the napkin, making sure to hand over one of the bigger pieces. Grabbing at it with greedy hands and an appetite to match, he immediately scarfed down the brioche, but not before he said his thanks. He sighed in delight as the fluffiness of it melted on his tongue. “So good!!” 

Mako found himself smiling at Bolin’s infectious grin. “S’that so? Want a bite of mine?” He angled his spongy bread towards the younger one, who happily chomped on it. He returned his gaze forward as he continued to chew on his bread, the treat staving off some of the hunger. 

Yn giggled at the interaction, wanting to join the fun, and tugged on Mako’s sleeve. “Want a bite of mine?” Before Mako had a chance to respond, she had already shoved her bread into his mouth once he had turned towards her. After breaking the piece off, she lectured, “You should eat more! These will go bad if you don’t finish them! It’ll be a waste.” She ignored Mako’s flushed face, assuming he just needed water, and passed him his cup. 

Once he cleared his throat, Mako choked out, "Didn’t you ever consider the germs! You could be sick!”

“I’m not sick!” She cried defensively. “If I cared about your germs, I wouldn’t have offered you any of my bread!”

“Did you think that I might care about germs?!”

“I- Well, I-,” she immediately paused, her cheeks flushing as she looked down sheepishly, “-did not think about that. Sorry?” She looked back at him, the fear of losing her newly made friend reflecting in her expression.

“That’s okay! Mako’s just shy with girls,” Bolin helpfully announced. “Like when that one girl who lived across the street tried to offer some fruit and Mako just threw them-” 

“You can eat the rest,” Mako blankly offers, the remaining bread shoved in Bolin’s mouth. At Yn’s gaping mouth, Mako grabs the wrist holding her bread before guiding the food into her mouth. “You should, too.” A playful grin itches the corners of his mouth as he tries to keep a straight face. "It's not good to waste your food." He reaches into the bag to grab a different type of bread as if nothing happened and proceeds to chew on it. 

“Thaz nawht neigs!” 

At her muffled yelling, Mako’s eyes glint playfully. “What’s that? I smell really good?” She shoved him away the moment he tried to lean closer to her.

Once she swallowed, she reprimanded Mako’s behavior, claiming it’s not good to interrupt people talking. 

Mako shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Not really. When you have a brother, it’s okay to be mean.”

Her eyes narrowed, taking in his words. “Then, what about a sister? Would you be mean to her too?” 

He takes a moment to ponder. It was nice forgetting that he was an orphan and just enjoying food in the company of another. But he thinks back to the days he'd chase Bolin around the house and wonders if he'd also chase Yn around if she'd been there. After all, a friend wouldn't be too different from a sibling, right?

“I think it’d be okay to be mean to them, too.” Yn’s head nodded approvingly at the answer, humming appreciatively that there was no special treatment between siblings. “Not sure, though. I never really thought about it until now.”

“What about you, Yn? Do you have a brother or sister?” Bolin chimed in, now on his second bread. 

“None! But I’d like a sister or brother sometime! I think it’s neat to have a friend like that around all the time.” 

“Yeah, you can think of it like that. Or it’s someone annoying you all the time.” With another shrug, Mako pops the rest of the bread in his mouth and dusts the crumbs off his hands. 

Bolin clears his throat, climbs onto his knees, and holds Mako by the shoulders to steady himself before burping in his face. The immediate cringe his brother wears is enough to satisfy him, a triumphant grin settling on his face. “Or someone you can annoy all the time!” 

Yn’s bark of laughter suddenly ends when suddenly the same cringe on Mako embraces her face. “Oh, you two are really stink-” but the other two don’t hear her finish her sentence as someone shouts her name over the stomping of ostrich horses in front of them. 

The lady towering over Yn from her seat inside the carriage looks frustrated, worried, and tired all at once. She hugs the girl the instant she exits the carriage, her eyes clenching softly in relief before she reopens them to look her form over. Making sure there aren’t any visible signs of dirt or scratches, she sighs. “Sweetie, why did you leave my side? You’re lucky I found you before anything happened!”

Yn puffs her chest and sits up straighter. The moment the word “mother” had left her mouth, Mako suddenly felt like he shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have gone for the bread, should be leaving, should be running. He stiffens when he makes eye contact with her mom, her eyes scanning their tattered clothes and thin coating of dust, settling on the scarf wrapped around Mako's neck with some form of recognition and pity. The pity. This was the exact moment he hated experiencing when parents realized their kids were around them, the orphans. Mako makes an effort to hold back a scoff, suddenly remembering how it wasn’t proper social etiquette to be rude to those related to the one who have shown you kindness. 

“Mako, can we?” He turns to see Bolin holding his hands together in plea and lips pouting. 

"Uh..." Shit, he was not listening. "I don't know, Bo…"

“Please, I insist. Any friend of Yn is welcome to have dinner with us anytime.” The look in her eyes was hesitant compared to the shakey upward turn of her mouth. “I won’t make two orphans pay, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Although they were the same words spoken to him earlier that day, they didn’t feel as sweet coming from the lady than it did from her daughter. Why did she have to mention they were orphans? Did she know them? their parents? the culprit?

“Mako,” Bolin whispers. Tugging his sleeve close enough so that the other two wouldn’t hear, he continues whispering. “House. Stuff. Steal?” Mako’s face remained neutral, but Bolin’s idea did strike a chord… Maybe they had a collection? They wouldn’t notice a thing or two from it missing… Mako assumed position by crossing his arms and making an indecisive face, hand resting on his chin to pronounce the effect. “It’s free dinner! Just this once, please?” With his acting turned up by a notch, Bolin slings himself onto Mako’s shoulders with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster. 

“Well… I could never say no to free food,” Mako returns stiffly. Gee, why couldn’t they just be natural. Even Bolin’s pout turned into a grimace. 

“Then let’s go now!” With no time for them to worry about how bad their acting was, the two of them were suddenly seated in the carriage on the opposite side from Yn and her mom. Yn bounced in her seat and swung her legs, her head tilting from side to side as if she was picking and choosing from a jar of questions to ask them, but only held back because of her mother being in the same space. 

The brothers shifted their eyes around the cart, not wanting to make eye contact at her mom, but not quite wanting to look at Yn either. Instead, Mako fiddled with the ends of his scarf while Bolin asked for another piece of bread. Smart, at least he wouldn’t be asked to talk if he was eating.

“Mother?” Yn’s tongue poked against the inside of her cheek, hesitant on whether she should ask something or not. At her mother’s inquiry, she continued, “Is this what kidnapping looks like?” 

Everyone turned to the sound of Bolin’s choking, who could barely hold the bottle of water being handed to him by Yn’s mother while Mako slapped his back harshly until he calmed down. “K-ki-kid- you’re kidnapping us?” He stared at the water and bread questionably. “Are these poisoned?! Am I going to… going to… melt… from the inside?” The tears in the corner of his widened eyes began to roll down at the thought of a painful death and he turned to Mako, barely comprehensible. “I told you! We shou-shouldn’t have come!” 

“You’re the one who wanted to go!” 

“You’re the one who let us go!” Great. Now he was sobbing. 

Exasperated, Mako groans. “Fine! If it makes you feel better-” he takes a large swig from the same bottle Bolin drank from earlier, “-now we’ll both melt from the inside!” Once Bolin’s sobs calmed down, he quickly added, “Better?” Bolin’s nod of approval stopped at the sound of Yn’s laughter on the other side, her mom simply covering her mouth with a little twinkle in her eyes. 

“I wanna melt from the inside, too!” Yn plucked the bottle from Mako’s hands before chugging the rest, saying something about how poisoned water tasted better than regular water. 

“You’re free to leave anytime after dinner, by the way. We’ll even arrange a carriage to take you back,” Yn’s mother offered. 

Mako nodded slowly, the look in her eyes now seeming more genuine than it had outside the carriage. “Thank you. We’d really like that.” 

The rocking of the carriage and the stomping of the ostrich horses filled the silence afterwards. With nothing to do and the presence of her mother making her hold her tongue, Yn studied the two brothers’ features. She wasn’t sure of what the definition of pretty for boys was, but she was sure these two were it. 

Bolin was on the cuter side with his stubby nose helping his thick eyebrows emphasize his expressions, chubby cheeks filling like chimp-monkeys, and bright emerald eyes practically glowing as if untouched. Mako, on the other hand, had a more slender nose, the arch of his eyebrows curving naturally just before abruptly being pulled up to a mountain peak and dragging downwards on the thicker end, his cheeks close to hollowing out from lack of food, and golden eyes tinted and narrowed in suspicion every now and then. The apples of both their cheeks an angry pink and peeling from being sunburnt, paling in comparison to the deep red and soft cotton of Mako’s scarf. 

That couldn't have felt nice if they just left it alone… She sighed and started folding the empty bag of bread, wondering if her mother had any mud masks she could spare at home. 

--

“And that’s how you turn off the sink!” Yn finished her explanation to the boys with a proud face, the bathroom lights adding just another bright layer to her eyes. 

“We know how to use the bathroom...”

“Then get to brushing your teeth! Your breath-”

“Stinks. We know.” 

Yn’s grin widens at Mako’s admittance, skipping out of the bathroom to help her mom prep for dinner. The dinner prep was simple since neither brothers had any special dietary needs or restrictions. The sound of the door unlocking was enough to stop her from turning on the stove to cook the chopped ingredients. Running to the door, she greeted her father with a slight bow and offered to take his coat and hat back to his room. 

Just as she exited her father’s room, she heard her name from Mako’s distressed call. “Can you get us towels? And some clothes?” His head was sticking out from the door and his damp hair clung to the sides of his face as he looked around frantically. 

“Oh! Sorry, how could I forget? Just wait a bit!” She’s about to turn the corner into the kitchen to ask her mother about the washed clothes, stopping when she hears the hushed whispers that could only belong to her parents. 

“No, those two kids! They’re San and Naoki’s kids!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Spirits, woman, do I have to spell everything for you? Did you see the damage of their house? They must have gotten some money from selling stuff. Money that they’re hiding.”

“They’re just kids. When are you going to stop pulling this stunt?”

“I’ll stop when I stop. Now, where have you been seeing them hang around?” 

A heavy air of silence hangs around the area, and Yn nearly looks around the wall before her eyes widened at the familiar sound of a harsh clap thundering off the walls of the kitchen. Her hands flew to cover her mouth to repress her gasp. With shaky steps, she was barely able to turn around without tripping on her feet, the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and blocking off the rest of their conversation as she made her way back to the bathroom.

--

A/n: I did not need 1.7k words before getting to this point in the story but I couldn’t help it LOL this part was split once again :”) also some pieces of dialogue are based on conversations in real life and I thought it fitted the three of them nicely as kids! kinda surprised myself this chapter because i always cringe at what i write but this was kinda cute lol Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!

part i | part iii

Taglist! (if you’d like to be tagged, pls DM me or send in an ask!)

@welovediaaxx​

[captainillogical]

Distant Lands Ch.3

Stranded on a planet with toxic conditions and nothing but the clothes on your back, your only means of survival lies within the gem that got you here in the first place.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants​

(thanks for being patient! sorry im so slow sometimes lol)

You wake up several hours later with a migraine. You don't even want to open your eyes as you groan silently inside your head. Everything hurts terribly. You lay there for a few moments, and move your arms to massage your temples. The pressure against your skin helps, but you still feel quite a bit of the pressure inside your skull.

You don't even know what time it is. You look around you to realize there's a bit of light. Adjusting yourself slightly, you move your arms in front of you. You.. realize that Spinel is holding your center tightly, and you can’t move. You can’t even tell if she’s sleeping or not, so you lay there quietly for a moment to gauge her breathing. It’s.. steady enough, so you’re pretty sure she’s asleep. You try to move her arms away from you ever so slightly, and she tightens them and clears her throat. You freeze.

“Uhh,” You say out loud. “Can you stop touching me now? I kind of need to go to the bathroom.” “..you tryin’ to escape me?” She finally says after a few moments. You sigh aggravatedly out loud at her.

“No. How could I even get very far? You’re right here.” She makes a noncommittal grunt at that, but doesn’t make an effort to move. God you can't stand her. You don’t think you could even be friends with her under normal circumstances, nonetheless being forced into a friendship with a murderous clown against your will with no chances to escape. The sooner you can find a way off this miserable rock, the better. “I’m not joking. Let me go so I can pee.”

“Fine. I’m coming with you, though.” She replies, and moves her arms enough so you can fling her limbs off you and sit up. You turn around to see her staring at you, and you wonder if she watched you sleep. You fight off the shiver even though you’re a bit creeped out at the prospect.

“Please don’t tell me that you’re going to watch me.”  You shoot her a look, and she raises an eyebrow.

“Watch you what?” She asks, and you fight off another groan of frustration. Fuck all of this.

“Nothing.” You exhale, and get up to go outside to relieve yourself. Spinel follows you, of course. Cursed gem, this one. Why couldn’t you have been taken by a Pearl instead, you think to yourself. This entire ordeal would’ve been a lot easier to deal with.

It’s so bright outside once you actually walk out, you feel like you haven’t seen light in forever. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust, but once they actually do you nearly open your mouth in shock at the state of this sun. It's freaking huge, for one. Like, several sizes bigger than the sun you're used to seeing. This one is also red, and something about it doesn't sit right with you.

You really gotta get off this planet.

"You ever see a sun like this?" You turn to face her.

"No. This one's weird." She squints at it. Not very helpful, then.

"Okay well, don't watch. I'm serious." You say, and lean your side against a nearby tree. She turns her head slightly to not face you. Whatever, good enough you guess.

You slip your pants off, but fumble for a second due to an item being in your front pocket. You pull the small object out and your heart drops for a moment. And then it picks back up rapidly. It's blue and bird shaped, and tied to a keyring. It's.. it's the small tracking beacon that you have matching with Steven. You.. you can't believe your luck. You never have this on you anymore.

Many years ago when you started going out on missions with the crystal gems, Steven used to beg and cry about having you not come with. He was so worried constantly, even though you were extremely safe with the gems, so you promised him you'd get something to make him feel better. And you got both yourself and him matching beacon keychains. So if you ever got lost, or something went wrong, you always had a way for him to find you. You stopped carrying yours regularly years ago since Steven started joining in on the gem missions, and mainly had it on your keyring for decoration and sentimental reasons. It must've fell off and into your pocket somehow. Now to just find a high enough hill to place this upon without Spinel noticing..

You realize that you've been quiet for a decent amount of time, and finish up your business before Spinel realizes anything.

Well. You kind of have a tiny smidge of hope now. You walk over to the gem, and she turns to regard you.

"Did that lighten your mood? You look almost cheerful." She says to you, and raises her eyebrow in question. You clear your throat. Fuck, you forgot your face shows everything.

"No, I'm actually extremely hungry and miserable right now." You reply coldly. You hope she's not suspicious of anything. "I'm gonna try and find some food for myself. Since you know, I'm an organic being and I need sustenance to survive." You glare at her, and she's not even paying any attention to you. 

You try a different path this time since it's light out and you can actually see. Spinel's clinging to your arm of course, because why not. It's not like you can fly off this planet by yourself. You wander about for nearly twenty minutes before you find a tree with some long cylinder-like fruit? You hope it's a fruit. You pull one down and have to snap it off the tree, which was weirdly difficult. The outside feels strange, like there's a fine film of.. something similar to wax on the outside.

Spinel pulls one down as well, and turns it around in her hands. You bring it up to your face to sniff it, and it seems okay? The surface seems soft enough. You're about to bite into it when Spinel rips the one in her hands in half with a quick snap, and the weirdest looking slime pours out of it in a murky brown color. It's absolutely repugnant smelling.

"I wouldn't eat this." She says, and drops the fruit to the ground. "Doesn't smell great."

"No shit, really?" You reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "It looked delicious to me." 

"Was just trying to help. I don't want you vomiting again like last time." She regards you with a look that you can't interpret, and this instantly pisses you off. How dare she act like she's doing you any fucking favors.

"I don't need your help." You force out, seething. She looks like she's about to say something, but you storm off in a huff before she can start. You don't care. 

You need to find food and water today, otherwise your chances of getting home to Steven alive and in one piece are close to zero. Your body aches, but you keep moving forward. You're determined to stay alive.

Spinel is still following behind you, and she isn't holding your arm this time. You push a bunch of vines out of the way of what looks like an overgrown path elsewhere, and you spoke too soon. Or, thought too soon, because she's wrapped her hand around yours this time. Ugh.

You pass by a lot of different types of bushes with similar berries like the ones from before, but you aren't taking your chances with those. You risk faster dehydration if you vomit any more. Your stomach grumbles at the thought of sustenance, and you feel like you might start chomping on leaves soon. You.. realize something with that train of thought. You've only sought out plant-life as a food source so far, completely ignoring any kind of animal that you could possibly eat.

You realize that you haven't seen any animals at ALL on this planet so far. That's strange. I mean, obviously for a complicated ecosystem like this there has to be creatures of some sort around, right? You've really only been here for a day, so you can't really be sure, but.. you're lost in thought when Spinel tugs your arm, and you nearly trip forward.

"What the fuck?" You say out loud. 

"I think there's something edible over here." She says, nodding over to this area through the thick trees. You walk over to where Spinel is standing to see what she's looking at.

You can see trees with different fruit on it this time than the others, and you'll take your chances with this one. 

"Let's hope this one doesn't poison me." You say with a shrug, and make your way over to the couple of trees nearest to you.

Looking up, the lowest hanging fruit are close to 15ft off the ground. They're green and yellow colored, and shaped like some kind of eggplant/durian hybrid. You hope it smells better than the other 'foods' you have discovered so far. You walk around the tree with Spinel still holding your hand, trying to find an easy spot to climb. There isn't even a viable foot holding that you can reach with your hands. You look at the other trees nearby, and they're all shaped the same. Tall, with smooth trunks that are completely useless to climbing. Great. 

You look around you to see if you can find any rocks or sticks to knock some down with, and see a decent sized branch on a low enough tree to grab. Sweet. You grab it to break it off, and it snaps off the tree pretty easily. When you turn around, Spinel's already got several fruit in her arms, and is grabbing another down. Oh right. You forgot. She can stretch herself at will. Why the fuck didn't she say anything before? You're nearly seething with rage, but decide to push it down to deal with your hunger instead. You walk back over to Spinel, and she hands you a fruit. You turn it around in your hands, gauging it's feel and smell. It seems alright. Better than the others, anyway. 

It's soft to the touch, so you tear into it with your hands carefully, ripping the fleshy skin apart easily. It's ripe, and smells nice, and the flesh inside looks good enough to make your mouth water. But you're not a fool, so you pull out a small chunk and place it inside your mouth. It tastes good, actually. Kinda lacks flavor, but you don't really care at this point. It doesn't make you vomit immediately. You wait a minute or two, making sure your stomach isn't going to retch this, and continue eating it slowly to not upset your stomach.

You don't realize that Spinel has been watching you carefully through all of this, and it’s right then that you notice that she probably doesn't know a thing about humans or organic beings at all. With your stomach steadily being filled and you've now got a bit of energy, your anger from earlier returns. She brought you to this planet with the idea of keeping you trapped here but didn't even bother to see if you could even SURVIVE. Your attention is back on her, rage clear in your eyes. 

“Did you even think for one single, miserable second about how I was suppose to survive out here?” You say, voice nearly shaking in fury. “Do you even know what a human needs to live?” 

Spinel seems taken aback for only a second before her eyebrows furrow.

"What were you going to do if I couldn't find any food and died?” You're walking closer to her. "What if I ate something that poisoned me? What if I touched something and my skin melted off? What if something attacked me and I bled out? What would you have done!? Left my body to rot on this planet, leaving you alone with it?!" Her eyes flicker with emotion that quickly turns to anger, and at this point you're standing in front of the gem, glaring up at her. You jam a finger into her chest, just to the side of her gem. “Steven would never know what happened to me, my family would never get answers. Do you even know a single FUCKING thing about humans!?” 

Spinel has the nerve to look down at you with aggravation on her face as she jabs a finger back into your chest, pushing you backwards.

“Listen here, human,” Spinel says the last word with a sneer. “I searched through several planets to find you one with adequate shelter and food, because I'm a good friend.” She jams her finger into your chest again to make a point. “So if I were you, I would be a little more GRATEFUL.” 

You scoff at her, placing a hand over where her finger had hit. 

“OH! WOW! YOU'RE SO RIGHT!!" You throw your hands into the air dramatically. “Thank you SO MUCH for stranding me on this SHITHOLE planet with a HOMICIDAL MANIAC.” You pointedly look to her to emphasize that she's the maniac. “I am so ETERNALLY GRATE-” 

Her hand shoots out, slamming your torso against the tree behind you, cutting off your supply of air. Several pieces of fruit fall from the tree above, thunking against the jungle floor around you. 

“You know, you're not being a very good friend.” She draws out, holding you in place. With the wind knocked out of you and you being pressed into the tree behind you, you can barely gasp an intake of breath. 

"Clearly you know nothing about being friends with anyone." You manage to choke out. Her grip on you tightens, your ribs squeezing painfully. You blink, seeing spots in your vision, your heart beating ever so loudly.

“You don’t know me. I was MADE to be a friend. I WOULD know what I’m talking about.” She spits out at you.

“You were what?” You barely manage to say, and she loosens her grip on you slightly. You take in several gasps of air.

“Nothing. You wouldn’t know.” She hisses angrily.

“What do you mean, made to be a friend!” You question her, and she drops her hand from your torso.

“I'm not talking about this. We're done here.” She retorts, and spins around to storm off. Your jaw drops as you watch her stomp off into a pathway you’ve never been. 

Wow. Very mature.

You pat yourself down for a sec to make sure you’re okay, and honestly, your ribs really do hurt. You hope she didn’t fracture them, because booooy, that would suck. Your arms feel like they're starting to bruise already. You grab as many fruit your pockets and arms can hold, and set off to the pathway Spinel went through.

What the actual fuck was she talking about back there? Made to be a friend? You can barely manage to walk and carry the fruit in your arms, several keep jumping out already and you have to stop and pick them back up. You took note of where this area was, and you're pretty sure you're still within the vicinity of your shelter.

You don't make it very far when you walk directly into something, spilling your arms contents everywhere. It's.. Spinel.

"Uh.. the hell?" You say out loud and look up to see Spinel staring at something. You follow her line of sight to see a.. cave of some sort on the side of this cliff. "What is that?" 

"I don't know." She says in aggravation, and stalks off over to the opening. You follow suit.

It's a large entrance, about 11-12 feet tall if you could guess. The outer edges are weirdly smooth. This cave almost seems man-made in nature, but there's something about it that tells you not so much. You can't place it yet, though. The cave seems to be pretty deep, as well. You can't see much, other than rocks and dirt and some dead leaves.

"Weird. You think the gems that were here did this?" You question out loud, not really expecting an answer. 

“...No.” She says, almost hesitantly. “I don’t know what this is.” She looks like she’s about to walk into the cave, but second guessed herself and spins around to face you. “Gem stuff is different from this.”

“Hm, well.. whatever. It doesn’t matter. I still need to find water before dusk, and it’s mid afternoon, if I’m going by this sun’s position.” You say, and wipe your brow. It’s humid, and you feel gross. You don’t really want to stick around to figure out this planet’s mysteries, either.

You walk off, not caring if Spinel follows you or not. She can figure herself out. You’ve got shit to do, and she’s of no use to you other than her ability to stretch like earlier. You keep along the path you’ve been following, looking around occasionally to find any more food or something helpful. Most of the trees around you are the same type, other plantlife breaking it up here and there. There has to be a water source nearby, because you’ve been so parched you feel like a raisin. Ugh.

You pass by an area with a lot of rocks off to the side, and you can hear something. The closer you get to it, the more it sounds like running water. Just your luck!! You run over to it, and there’s a bit of a drop off, but the view is absolutely amazing. 

You spot a small waterfall off to the side, and a decent sized lake in this clearing. The plant life around the edges of the water look nearly ethereal with how the vines and flowers are floating on top of the water. This looks like an oasis. You carefully place all of your fruit down off to the side by a larger rock, and run down the side to get to the water.

You get up to it, and bend down to test it with your finger first. Gotta make sure it ain’t acid water, you know? Never know with this place. It feels fine and it isn’t burning your skin, so you’re taking it as a good sign. You cup some with your hands and bring it up to your face to take a quick sniff before drinking. It smells a bit off, but you’re sure it’s just because you’re on this strange planet.

You take several small gulps, making sure your stomach is okay with it. You sit at the edge of the lake, resting your feet for a second. You feel.. a bit relieved. Okay. You’ve got food, you’ve got water, you’ve got shelter.. and you have a possible way off this planet. Maybe. You still have to find a good place to deposit the tracker. You hope Steven remembers that his matching keychain exists in the back of his bedside drawer. You.. you hope that they’re trying to find you. It’s been more than a full day, and you logically KNOW that them getting to you would take a bit of time.. but you’re worried regardless. You’ve never been in a situation so hopeless before. You’ve camped a lot, sure, and you’ve been on planets not exactly suitable for human life. But not something like this, and not with an unfamiliar, wild, mood-volatile gem. 

Speaking of said gem. What she said earlier is still on your mind, and you still know nothing about her other than her name and how weirdly defensive she is about friendship. You don’t know about her age, what she was doing, why she was attacking Steven, how she KNOWS Steven.. none of it makes any sense. You’ll get your answers eventually, or you’ll get off this planet. Without her. She can stay here until that sun goes supernova for all you give a shit.

You’re lost in thought when you see ripples across the water, and you look up. There’s nothing in the water that you can see.. Ah. Off to the side.

There’s a little.. animal, drinking water a good 60 feet away from you. It’s hideous. It looks like a crossbreed of a platypus, a duck, and a goose. How unfortunate. You watch it for a few minutes, as it doesn’t see you sitting there and you can safely observe it. It doesn’t really do anything other than drink water and look around. It seems almost peaceful, with dusk setting in and the sun edging away over the trees. So there are small animals here, after all. Huh. Wonder why you hadn’t seen any before.

You’re sitting there quietly when something moves behind you, making the strange creature let out a squawk and run to hide in the underbrush. 

You see Spinel’s feet walk up to your side, and internally sigh. Couldn’t even get adequate alone time. You were kinda hoping you could sit here alone to zone out and plan a different way to get off this planet as a backup plan. Well, whatever. You’ll plot later. 

“We should head back. It’s getting dark, and I’d like to gather shit for a possible fire to keep myself warm tonight.” You say, and stand up. Ugh, everything hurts, and the heavier gravity is fucking with your knees. You lean down to brush off your clothes from any dirt left on you, and stretch your back. Spinel’s watching you quietly.

“Ya didn’t leave.” She states. You stare at her, a bit dumbfounded.

“Where would I honestly go, Spinel?” You sigh. “Also I’m not stupid enough to wander off right before it gets dark. I don’t know what’s out there.” You turn around to head to your ruins that you call a shelter, and gather your food back up. You’ll figure out a way to transport some water later.

Spinel gathers a couple of the fruit in her own arms, like she’s trying to be helpful. You glare daggers at the back of her head. You turn around before leaving to take in the scenery again, and burn it into your memory. You’ll be back tomorrow.

It takes nearly twenty minutes to get back to camp, it’s almost completely dark out now, and the cold is setting in. Once you’re back, you walk into the ruins to set down your food into a corner. You look to your makeshift bedding from last night, and figure you’ll try to grab more leaves once you’re done with your fire supply gathering.

You head back outside to see Spinel rummaging around in some bushes, doing who knows what. You roll your eyes, and walk back into the jungle line of trees to find some dry foliage to burn. There’s a tree you can see that’s half dead, so you peel some of its flaking bark off, as well as any of the dry looking branches. You spot a few branches on the ground as well, and gather those too. 

You come back and forth a few times to get enough of a stash going. You don’t know how long you’ll be on this planet, but you’re the type of person that likes to be prepared if possible.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, proud of the pile you’ve managed to build. Spinel comes into the ruins beside you, with something in her arms.

“Uhh, what’s that?” You ask her. She’s just holding a pile of twigs and moss.

“Kindling.” She says, and raises her eyebrows like it’s obvious. 

Huh. That’s.. helpful of her. You don’t know how you feel about this, so you just tell her to put it on the ground next to your pile.

“Thanks, I guess.” You say awkwardly. “I’m gonna go find leaves to make my bedding a bit better. I’m not running off, okay?” You head outside again, but not before you take a quick glance at Spinel standing there. Her expression was strange - one you haven’t seen her make before. But you have more pressing concerns right now, so you wave that out of your mind.

You can see your breath outside now. This weather is absolutely wild, you can’t believe the temperature would just drop so quickly like that. You’re shivering, so you work quickly to gather as many leaves as possible. You spot a couple of large ones, and catch yourself getting excited. You scoff out loud at yourself. Getting excited over leaves now? What’s next, getting excited when your food doesn’t make you vomit? Excited that Spinel hasn’t strangled you yet? How low will your standards go?

When you get back inside with your findings, you see Spinel over by your makeshift bed. Except it’s piled.. Comfortably high now. Like a foot off the ground, what the hell?

“Is this okay?” She finally speaks up.

“I was gone maybe five minutes, and you did all this?” You ask her, and she nods. The fuck, you’re almost touched. 

But then you remember she’s trapped you here and she doesn’t actually care about you at all. 

You set down your leaves in the pile, and grab the stuff you brought in to make a fire in the middle of this room. You place a couple rocks in a circle as Spinel watches you, putting sticks around in a cone-like formation. You put in the kindling as well, and grab the sticks you’re using to start the fire with.

You’ve made fires using this method before, but it’s been a while, and you’re rusty. You feel like you’ve got performance anxiety with Spinel watching you, but after a few tries (and a few expletives) you succeed in building a small fire. You sigh out loud in relief, and gather a few more sticks to build the fire with, placing them on the pile. It seems to be burning nicely. You sit by it for a few minutes, watching it to make sure it’ll be fine and not fall over, and to also get warm. Spinel sits beside you, much to your annoyance.

You gather your thoughts before succumbing to the heavy pull of sleep. If you can wake up in the middle of the night and sneak away from Spinel somehow, you can place the tracker on a hill nearby. You have a couple places in mind already. And then maybe you’ll be rescued, and you’ll never have to see this gem ever again, and you can sleep in a real bed. And take a shower. And eat real food. You sigh again, and Spinel glances at you.

She watches you for a considerable amount of time, enough for you to get irritated and get up.

“I’m gonna sleep.” You state, and walk over to plop on the bed. You feel like all these leaves don’t make any difference, comfort-wise. It isn’t as cold as before though.. so that’s a plus.

You hear a scuffle behind you, and you hope Spinel is getting up to leave. You feel a presence behind you, and reside to groaning inside your head. Ugh! Whatever! You’ll pass out soon anyway, weather she’s there or not.

You feel Spinel get in bed behind you, and she wraps her arm around your middle. 

“I’m not going to leave. I told you. You can stop touching me.” You say to the person behind you. She grunts in response.

“I’m not sure I trust you yet.” She mumbles. If you could scream right now, you would.

You lay there for several long moments, letting sleep drift to you. 

Your thoughts are heavy with yearning to escape, and your eyes close with the intention of waking up in just a few short hours.

[druddigoon]

bederia week day 2 prompt that lost steam 3/4 of the way through and ended up never being posted. gonna post as a scrap here, i guess

klara is all of us shippers

When Bede thought about the duties of being a gym leader, he never expected so much of it to be just waiting. 

After the scandal with Eternatus and Rose’s arrest, the league was able to pull some strings to quell public unrest and ensure there’d be a gym challenge the next year. Mostly due to the fact that the new champion was the one to save the day, and that two major league gyms were succeeded by people who had played roles in dismantling his regime (because hey, he’ll take credit where credit is due). Now they were on the last dregs of the circuit, when most of the challengers had either advanced to gyms higher in the circuit or were picked off by lower ones. 

Bede swung his legs idly against the stage. He’d received an rotom-mail stating that there were three challengers headed his way, but either they were lost in Ballonlea or decided to drop out, because he’d been here since early morning and there was no sign of anyone. 

“Might as well just take the rest of the day off,” he muttered to his mawile, currently occupied with nibbling the stage equipment.

Mawile didn’t seem to be paying attention, too busy looking far off into the distance. Suddenly her larger mouth stiffened, her eyes widened, and with a cry that hurt Bede’s eardrums she hopped off the stage and ran out of the room. 

Bede found himself with no choice but to follow. 

She must’ve heard Gloria arrive at the gym, he thinks. They had planned to meet to train in the Tangle earlier this afternoon, but she had yet to show her face. 

He pushed up the heavy double doors leading to the lobby. “About time you came, Glori—”

Wait. 

That wasn’t Gloria. 

His mawile (traitor) was currently munching pecha berries from a certain trainer he’d hoped to never see outside of league meetings. Her dustox was hovering overhead, shedding a trail of poisonous dust as it investigated the ceiling lights.

“This your mawile?” Klara pets the jaw pokemon, still happily chomping down on her pecha, “Super sweet little gal.” 

“Yes. Mawile, you know better than to eat from strangers. Get back here.” 

“Let her enjoy her treat! She must be knackered out from alllll the battles you’ve been doing at your gym.” 

Bede refused to humor her. “Why are you here?”  

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she spoke in a sickenly sweet voice, “Can’t a girl visit her favorite little brother?” 

“For the last time, no one is forcibly adopting me.” 

“No one except Opal, of course.” 

“Look,” Klara said when he didn’t respond, “Minor league doesn’t have half as many duties as you guys do. We don’t have a gym to manage, we don’t have challengers to take care of, all we do is twiddle our thumbs at meetings or train for a shot next year at major! And both are soooo booooring~” 

“And that is my problem because…?” 

“Consider this payback for ousting my toxtricity in the tournament. You’re stuck with me, fairy boy.” 

Before he can retort with I’m not afraid to high horsepower you just like i did your giant lizard, there was a loud slam coming from the entrance, door rattling on its hinges. 

Gloria hobbled in out of breath, leaning heavily on the wall. She looked like she’d been through hell: face red, hair askew, and that dumb green beret she always wore nowhere to be found. “Sorry,” she managed, “league...business...took...longer than I thought.” 

Did she run all the way to Ballonlea? 

Bede sighed and massaged his temples. “I can’t believe you—no, don’t talk back at me, conserve your breath. There’s an empty couch right next to you. I'll go get some water.” 

Gloria accepted the water sheepishly. “Sorry about this. I had an interview with a film crew right before when we planned to meet, which was just part of a documentary they were making on the history of Stow-on-Side’s monument. They just wanted my eyewitness account of what happened. Don’t worry, I didn’t go into detail about your disqualification.” 

With how often he embarrassed himself in the media (and on live television, during the championship tournament) Bede doubted it would matter.

“But you know I get nervous talking in front of people. When they say it takes ‘one hour tops’, it apparently doesn’t take into account the amount of retakes I needed to do just to get a clip where I don't mumble.” She leaned over to give Mawile a pat on the head. “I was really late by then so I ended just...running. Didn’t realise until I was halfway in Glimwood Tangle that I left my bag at the filming site.”

He settled in the seat next to Gloria’s. “You shouldn’t be having these problems. Take some time for yourself, our meetings aren’t really important and can be moved to a later date. Make sure to factor for commute time and things like this.” 

“Ugh, I know. Hop says I’m ‘pants with schedules’. I just...can’t decline. I’m the champion, this is part of my duty.” 

Klara cleared her throat, making Bede’s ears burn. He’d completely forgotten they weren’t alone. “You didn’t offer to get me water.” 

“Get it yourself,” he snapped back. 

“Oh.” Gloria blinked, finally noticing Klara. “I didn’t see you there. You are…?” 

“Klara.” She strode closer, extending her hand for a fistbump. “Minor league gym leader, number 881. Poison-type specialist. 

“Nice you meet you, I’m—” She paused to glance at the outstretched fist in confusion. Bede bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from snickering. “I’m Gloria. I’ve been meaning to meet with the minor league leaders, actually, so it’s really nice to see you here! Beautiful dustox, by the way. Haven't seen many of its line around Galar."

If Klara took offense to Gloria's (lack of a) fistbump, it was immediately forgotten when Dustox was mentioned. She brightened. "Thanks! Got him from a breeder in Hoenn, and with the laxer species protection laws I was finally able to bring him here."

“Can I see him? Frosmoth has trouble flying in humid weather, and I’ve been wondering how something so bulky like dustox adapted to its environment—d’oh! I should probably call a corvitaxi to get my bag before someone decides to steal it. ” 

“No need.” Bede fished out a pokeball and pressed it into her hands. “It’s near the mural, right? My reuniclus remembers how to teleport there. I need to handle some challengers today, so it’s best that we cancel our training. Retrieve your stuff, then go home and rest. You can return my pokemon next time we meet.” 

After Gloria left, he turned back to Klara. "You should leave too. I have things to do."

"What, 'handle some challengers'? I don't need a psychic type to know you don't have any."

"I still need to close up. Leave."

“The champion visits you in your gym. For 'training', you say.” Klara rested her chin delicately on her hand. “Ah, young love.” 

Bede sputtered halfway into locking the stage doors, catching his thumb in the process. "There is nothing romantic between Gloria and I! We both needed more training, and I was the best gym leader to tutor her."

"Suuuuure you are. And the Battle Tower doesn't exist." She grinned, all predator. "Let's not beat around the bush here. Champ likes you enough to make you her training partner, you care about Champ enough to fuss over her like a mother corviknight. Now, be a good brother and tell Big Sis the details."

Hissing from the pain, he fumbled around before releasing his hatterene. "Fuck you. Hattie, teleport me back to my house."

"Wait! No! Stay with me and I'll make it worth your while! I know the best tricks to woo a girl—"

Bede was gone before she could finish her sentence.

Several days later, he was walking through the streets of Hammerlocke. 

There it was, a couple blocks away from the gym: a looming fortress of ebony brick and wreathed ivy with the words Hammerlocke City Vault emblazoned above wooden double doors. He’d been notified that he was to attend a private league conference in one of its side office buildings just yesterday, which was a little unusual since they usually give it at least a week prior. Bureaucracy has done worse, he supposes. 

In the lobby, underneath a vivid painting of Galar’s Darkest Day (recently revised to include Zacian and Zamazenta now), sat Gloria, dozing on his reuniclus. 

“Bede?” she mumbled, sitting up with a jolt when the pokemon slid out from under her to greet his trainer. “Didn’t know you had business here too.” 

“Ditto to you.” Reuniclus chirruped, headbutting his shoulder. He gave him a couple rubs on its head. “Maybe we’re in the same one? Mine’s at ten in room thirty-four.” 

“Huh.” Gloria tossed him his pokeball, which he caught and withdrew Reuniclus with. “Same, but...I’m meeting with my PR team, and I’m pretty sure they specifically asked for me. Are you sure yours is today?” 

“Give me some credit Gloria, I’m don’t just mix up dates. Let me pull up the email...” He took out his rotom-phone, scrolled down and...yep, there it was: same date, room, and time. The invitation was formal, the same mass-email format he’d received from them a thousand times, and to check he glanced at the sender’s address and—

Sent by Klara. 

Arceus fucking help him now, he was going to send his rapidash after her. 

“Anything now?” Gloria prompted as Bede shut his rotom-phone with more force than necessary. He noticed she was more subdued lately, didn’t fire quips at him or engage in the back and forth banter that became the norm in their relationship. 

He wanted to ask her if she was well, if she actually went home to rest like he told her to. Wanted to see the smile she wore when she played with her pokemon, back when she didn’t look like she was running herself into the ground. Bede had never been the one to concern himself over other people, but there was something he couldn’t stand about watching this quiet candle of a girl get snuffed in the panache of publicity. 

“...Guess I did get the date wrong,” he lied. “Do you mind if I join your meeting? Might as well, since I cleared my entire schedule out for this damn trip.” 

“Well, I’m alright with it.” She got up, and he didn’t miss the steadying hand she placed on the wall. “I don’t know about the people I’m meeting with…”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the champion, they should follow what you decide to do.” If his past taught him anything, it was to assert himself or risk getting trampled over. By the way Gloria averted her eyes, he assumed she had not. 

They walked into the conference together. When the PR team arrived, Gloria dismissed their confusion with a wave. “I brought Bede along. He won’t be part of the meeting, so just pretend he isn’t here.” 

He huffed, crossing his arms, but his indignation melted away when she shot him a weak smile.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Here’s my next entry for @badthingshappenbingo! Just one prompt left after this!

I AM NO LONGER ACCEPTING PROMPTS! The single-bone marks on the card indicate which prompts I have received and am going to write, and I finally have prompts that will earn me a bingo once they’ve been posted (but they’re not posted yet)!

This fic has also been posted to FFN and AO3, so you can check it out on my Assortment of Broken Bones collection on there if you like!

This prompt was suggested by @actingwithportals! I went with a slightly different interpretation, since I don’t really want to hurt Miguel. XD; Hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Outnumbered in a Fight Characters: Miguel, Abel, Abuelita (post-movie, pre-epilogue)

---~~~---

"Abel?"

Miguel's cousin looked up from his textbook—he was studying for a big test, and Miguel hated to bother him, but he was pretty sure this was going to drive him crazy if he didn't ask for help. "Um... could you... help me with a computer thing?"

Abel made a face, tossing his textbook across the table. "Sure. Can't be worse than studying for history, I guess."

Grinning, Miguel hurried off to the living room where an old computer sat in the corner, a pair of more modern headphones hooked up to it. The latter was a very recent addition, purchased shortly after the music ban was lifted. Before then, their computer had no sound at all—the speakers had immediately been tossed as soon as they'd acquired it. Now that it was equipped with headphones, many of the Riveras had been taking advantage of it... which was the problem.

"Look at this," Miguel said, waving a hand at the monitor as he scrolled through Youtube.

Abel squinted at the monitor. "Okay... What am I looking at?"

"Look, it's all history videos... I think those are from Papá, and... and a few music things I like, but there's also..." Miguel made a face. "Makeup tutorials." He scrolled past several recommendations with particularly atrocious thumbnails—clearly things recommended to their Tía Gloria.

"Huh. So...?"

"Could you... show me how to sign up? So it can recommend me the things I want? I think I'm gonna go crazy if I have to see another makeup tutorial."

"That's all?" Laughing, Abel gently shoved Miguel away from the computer and took a seat. "Sure, if that's what you want. But uh..." He glanced around the family room—no one else was there at the moment. "Don't let anyone know I did this for you, all right? You're kinda slightly too young to sign up."

"Pff, just by a month," Miguel argued.

With that settled, he watched as Abel guided him through making an email address (Miguel chose the name "GuitarraYZapatos05"), and, through there, set him up with an account. "And... there," Abel said, slipping off the stool. "You're all done. Just log off whenever you're done."

"¡Gracias!" Miguel slid back onto the stool, and Abel left him to browse the site.

Eagerly he put the headphones on and typed a song into the search bar—he'd known how to navigate the website for some time now, even before the ban had lifted, thanks to his friends showing him videos on occasion when he visited their houses. It was a lot nicer to be able to do it whenever he wanted—looking up songs he'd heard in the plaza and watching videos of people playing them. It was a great way to learn to play the songs, since he'd taught himself to do it by sight. Not to mention, he was discovering a lot of new songs this way (though he sheepishly had to skip over songs every so often—ones he was pretty sure if Abuelita ever heard the lyrics to, she would re-ban music... or at least computers, anyway).

For a good hour or so Miguel listened to different songs, at first paying attention to the videos, and then simply losing himself to the music, shutting his eyes and letting the next videos autoplay. This worked out fine for a while, but then...

"What color is the sky, ay mi amor, ay mi amor!"

Miguel jumped back, nearly tipping backwards off his stool, headphones going askew as his heart hammered in his chest. Even then, he could still hear the familiar voice, and the face on the screen was...

It was a friendly looking face, singing on a stage in front of many adoring fans. Occasionally the man would stoop down to sing a particular line to a girl in the audience, who would swoon over him as he winked. But the last time Miguel saw that face, saw that person, he hadn't looked nearly so friendly.

You're not going anywhere!

He could still feel himself held up by the front of his shirt, yanked closer as the eyes of the man—the one who had once been his hero—glared poison into him.

I am the one who is willing to do what it takes to seize my moment... whatever it takes.

"The loco that you make me, it is just un poco crazy!"

The fact that both the terrifying skeleton in his memory and the friendly-looking man in the video were the same person made Miguel feel sick, panicked, and very, very angry. Frantically he clicked several times on the screen to get the video to pause, and scrolled away so he didn't have to look at the man's face anymore. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, shuddering, wishing he could make the memory go away. If anyone deserved to be forgotten, it was Ernesto de la Cruz.

Once the panicked pounding of his heart finally calmed, he looked back at the screen. At first he'd thought that he should sign off for now—that was certainly enough videos for the day, and he felt like playing the real versions of his Papá Héctor's songs so he could get Ernesto's voice out of his head. But then something caught his eye, something he hadn't been paying attention to until now:

OMG, I love Ernesto! he's so flirty here lol

73 people got a bell dropped on their head

this is my favorite DLC song! he has so many good ones though, what a legend

I still have this one on a record. Ernesto himself signed the sleeve! It's my prized possession.

Comments—hundreds of comments, nearly all of them praising Ernesto for his looks, for what a great person he was, for "his" songwriting talent. Miguel felt his face flush in anger as he read more and more of them, all of these people who thought that Ernesto was the songwriting genius, and not his Papá Héctor...!

A part of him recalled that it had only been a month since Dia de Muertos, and the word hadn't gotten out to everyone yet, but it didn't make him feel any less angry. Seeing all of these people praise the man who had killed his great-great-grandfather and then tried to kill him not once, but twice was unbearable.

Unable to stand all the positive comments directed at this man, Miguel quickly found where he could leave a comment of his own, and began typing (a slow process with one finger—he hadn't learned to type properly yet):

Ernesto is the worst musician!! He stole all his songs! Theyre not his! Hes not a real musician!!!

Still fuming, he hit the reply button, and sat back on his stool. One comment probably wouldn't do a whole lot against the hundreds of people fawning over Ernesto here, but he'd thought it might make him feel better to say something.

A notification popped up at the bottom of his screen—someone had... replied to his comment?

Lol, what? Chill out. I'm sorry you don't like the greatest musician of all time.

What? No, that wasn't...! Frustrated, Miguel typed up another reply: Hes not!!! Hes a fraud!!! Hes not a real musician at all!

To his surprise, even more comments came in, this time from several people within moments of each other:

sure, Ernesto is a fraud, just like Elvis, right?

you!!! need to use more!!!! exclamation points!!!!!!

lmfao did you create this account just to troll a DLC video uploaded 7 years ago?

Great, now everyone was making fun of him... but it wasn't funny—Ernesto really did steal all of his songs, and... He shook his head—this wasn't fair. He typed up another reply to the thread (making sure to use fewer exclamation points, if they were going to make fun of him for it): Im telling the truth! He stole all his music from my greatgreat grandpa. He wrote all the songs Ernesto sang including this one.

OMG. OMGGGGG.

no actually dcl is my great great uncle and he told me hmself he wrote all these songs and that if I ever met youtube user ""guitarrayzapatos05" i should tell him that he screwed ur mom

Guys I think this is a kid......

Geez I always hear people say they're related to DLC (wouldn't be surprised, the man supposedly slept around like a rabbit) but this is the first I've heard someone say he stole from their relative. We've got a new nutjob conspiracy theory, fellas.

Adsfjsdflasjfsda;lfjlsajslfdjlds;adj

Miguel wasn't entirely sure what some of this stuff meant, but he did know all these people were mocking him, and with every new reply he felt the anger build in his chest, though his cheeks also felt hot with embarrassment—why was everyone ganging up on him like this? Your all making fun of me! But Im telling the truth!! Ernesto is a bad person and a bad musician! He really did steal from my greatgerat Grandpa!!

He stole from my greatgerat Grandpa too.

Lol how long do you plan to keep this up kid?

Listen, if DLC really did steal his music, we would have heard about it by now. He died almost a century ago. You don't think people haven't looked into this?

he ded 75 years ago moron

omg do u ever shut up

At least one person was being civil with him, but even then they were wrong. Still, Miguel had no idea what to say—his family was still fighting to get this case to the news, but with Mamá Coco having recently passed and his baby sister nearly here, they hadn't had a lot of time to work on it. But maybe he could bring something else up. He typed as fast as he could, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes:

I know he stole it! I found out when I went to the Land of the Dea—

The screen went dark.

Miguel sat there for a moment, stunned, before he heard a slobbery chomping noise coming from beneath the desk. Looking down, he spotted a familiar tail poking out near his stool. "Dante!" he cried, hopping down to yank the dog away.

As he suspected, the power cord was in the dog's mouth, and he was chewing on it lazily.

He was normally used to Dante getting in the way of things, but he felt angrier than normal at the dog. "No! No! Bad dog!" he cried, and swatted Dante on the nose.

The dog whined, immediately dropping the cord and squirming away from Miguel's grasp.

"S-stupid dog, wha'd you do that for? I was just trying to tell them about—!"

"What's going on in here?"

Both Miguel and Dante turned around to see Abuelita hurrying into the room. "I-it's nothing, Abuelita," Miguel said, and frantically wiped at his face.

Abuelita crossed her arms, looking from Miguel, to Dante, to the computer. "Nothing, huh! Is that computer box giving you trouble?"

"I—no, it's... it's not that..." He winced as Dante licked at his face and pushed him away.

"Don't give me that. It must be something, if it's got you so upset."

Abel's voice came from the hallway: "Ummm... did something happen?" Stepping into the room, he blinked at the monitor. "Huh, why's it—WOAH!" Quickly he got down on his hands and knees, grabbing the partially-chewed power cord and plugging it back in. Hitting the "on" button on the machine, he heaved a sigh of relief when the computer began to boot up again. "Geez, I thought you'd broken it."

"Oh, is that all?" Abuelita chuckled. "See, it's fine, mijo."

Dante looked up at the computer and barked at it, and Miguel frowned, using the stool to push himself back up to his feet. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes. "Yeah, I... guess."

"Wait... what did you do on there?" Abel asked, suddenly worried. He quickly glanced from Abuelita and back to Miguel, biting his lip.

Sighing, Miguel, wrapped his arms around himself. "I just... saw some dumb people talking... about de la Cruz," he mumbled.

"Ugh, that man?" Abuelita said, shaking her head. Miguel wondered if she realized she said it in the exact same way she used to refer to Papá Héctor.

"People talking about... oooh, you read the comments, didn't you?" Abel asked, and laughed. "Never read the comments, Miguel!"

Feeling his chest constrict, Miguel balled his hands into fists and held them at his side, glaring at his primo. "It's not that! They were—they were talking about how great de la Cruz was, and—and when I told them he wasn't great, he was a thief, they... they just made fun of me!"

"¡¿Qué?!" Abuelita shouted, then shot an accusatory glare at the monitor. "I will not have people mocking my grandson! Where are they?"

"No, no, Abuelita, it's not like that." For a moment it looked like Abel would laugh again, but he saw how serious Miguel was about this, and frowned. "Well... they don't know yet, Miguel."

"But I tried to tell them!" Miguel swung out his hands, and Dante whimpered, butting his head against Miguel's leg. "I—I tried to tell them that they were wrong, but they just... kept making fun of me. And there were so many of them! I just..." Finally he brought his arms down, grasping his right wrist in his left hand and staring down at the floor. "I just felt like I was all alone."

Feeling his Abuelita's arm wrap around his shoulders, Miguel looked up to see her looking at him seriously. "You're not alone, mijo," she said. "Every single one of us here in this family are standing right behind you. We know the truth about Papá Héctor and that man now, and we won't stop fighting until the whole world knows."

"Y... you mean it?" he asked, hope creeping into his heart again.

"Absolutely. He is family, and we won't give up on him."

A huge smile spread across his face as he wrapped both arms around his abuelita, hugging her. "Gracias, Abuelita."

Laughing, Abuelita returned his hug with a bone-crushing one of her own, squeezing around his back until he was left gasping for air. "Now go have fun, mijo, and don't worry about what the people on that computer box say. They'll understand soon enough!" With that, she happily walked back toward the kitchen to start on dinner, leaving Miguel and his cousin alone.

Abel shifted on his feet, glancing from the computer to Miguel before giving an awkward laugh. "I, uh... know we went through the trouble of setting up a Youtube account for you, but uh... maybe you should stick to Spotify."