#so they were like ‘you do it better then’ so i ended up finishing it myself lol (i dare to say i did a better job)

[gremlinwithacause]

You should have known better. It’s not the first time you’ve been ditched, but it might be the last. Huh. 

You make good money on your work. You’re nothing noble or special. You’re just damn good at your job. Fighting and killing come second hand. You could blame it on your parents. Blame it on working at a slaughterhouse. Blame it on getting picked on and having to fight for yourself. Blame it on needing cash to live. The details don’t matter all that much. You’re a good fighter and a better killer. Someone told you that your need to survive made you different. You don’t think so and you’re tired of hearing it. 

It’s not just the shady folks that hire you. You get plenty of employers of good standing. The adventurers aren’t special. A set in a line of many that want extra hands or extra cannon fodder. You tend to be lucky enough to be the former. You’ve ended up in jail more than once for people like this. Your wealthier employers tend to bail you out. You were valuable enough for the extra investment. Worth more alive, and all that. So you’ve been around a few dozen times. 

Being ditched in the field isn’t new but being half dead is. 

You should have seen it on their faces. You should have known better. They didn’t want you there, but someone thought they needed you. It makes sense they ditched you once the boss went down. 

But damn. They didn’t even watch it happen. Straight for the loot, huh? On some level you respect it, on the other level you’re bleeding out and you can only watch them run away. Not even a one liner? A spit on your body? A single piece of gold thrown on your body and a good “there’s your payment, you filthy animal.” 

Huh. Maybe you deserve it. You never messed with theatrics. Why would you get any? 

Things are fading in and out. Blood loss is always a pain to deal with. It would be easier to let go, you think. You still put pressure on the wound in your stomach and side and breathe through the pain. It’d be insulting if you just let yourself keel over, right? No, you’re just scared. 

“Guess we’re both expendable, huh?” 

You don’t have it in you to startle. The boss that you were damn sure was dead is not that. Alive enough to banter with you. It’s more than you offered anyone. What a sweetheart. 

“Dunno,” you say. “Never really thought of it.”

It makes sense. You’re not a hero. What were the chances of you actually out-living adventurers like the ones that ditched you here? You’re worth more alive, but when is the investment no longer worth it?

“‘S funny,” the boss says. Chatty, you think. What can you do but humor them? “Didn’t think heroes would leave their own behind.” 

“I was hired,” you say. 

“Really?” 

They laugh. Then cough and choke on blood or their own spit. You wait for them to finish their cackling, and then continue to wait for the end. 

“They're always picky with their heroes, huh?” 

Oh boy, the pronoun game. 

“Don’t care,” you say. May whatever higher power there is forgive your temper as you’re dying. “It’s work.” 

“Ah. You’re one of those,” they say. Like they know you. Ugh. You want to finish the job. “I always liked those. Basic motivations are the best. Nothing to second guess.” 

You roll your eyes. You’ve heard it all before. What is it worth now? 

“I tried the whole leader thing,” they say. “Good worshippers are hard to find, you know?”

You don’t. You won’t. 

“Sounds more like a cult.” “Eh. Same thing,” they dismiss. 

“What were you even the god of?” you snap. You can’t help it. This guy wasn’t any more special than you--that is: not.

“Anything I could get my hands on,” they say. “I wasn’t picky. Got enough of something that I became this, though.”

A boss. A few tiers above the usual monsters that you can find, always locked up in some kind of home base. 

“So were you a god or not?”

“No, never got that far. Wouldn’t have lost to you if I did.”

“Sure. Lie to yourself.”

They laugh again, “I like that. Confidence like that is usually up on some pedestal. Good on you.” 

“Yeah. Did me a lot of good.” 

“Did you enough,” they say. “You’re not new at this, must have been going for a while.”

“It’s work,” you repeat. It’s always work. It’s to survive. 

“You want a new job?” they ask. 

You lift your head enough to look over at them. They’re flat on their back. Your spear is still in their chest. It’s what’s keeping them from bleeding out. You know better than to leave the weapon in, but you were distracted by the whole dying thing. 

It’s getting harder to keep the pressure on your wound. Your hands are getting weaker. You’re getting weaker. You’re surprised you’re still awake. And what is this guy talking about? …You’ll indulge it. What else are you going to do? 

“Contract?” you ask. 

“Sure,” they say. 

A silver contract appears in front of you, something you don’t see too often. The consequences on silvers are serious, most people just do physical ones or bronzes. 

You squint to make sense of the blurring letters. 

“Follower? Really? What, are you still trying to form that cult?” you snort. It hurts and you dig your fingers into your skin. You don’t even feel it. 

“Good clerics are hard to find,” they say.

“Hah, and your lucky cleric is about to kick the bucket,” you say. “Sucks to be you.”

“Read it.” 

“Sorry. It gets hard to read with blood in your eyes.” 

“You live. You worship me.” 

You grimace. Sounds like a hassle. But… the idea of continuing to live is like candy. What else is there to do? It’s work.

You sign. 

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[slashmagpie]

Break Like an Artist

My fic for @hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event! I was paired up with the wonderful @eydilily to create something spooky, dramatic and contemplative featuring Gem and Pearl, and it's been an absolute blast putting this together. Please go check out Eydi's art for this AU, it's absolutely gorgeous. CWs: description of a corpse, dismemberment, loss of awareness, fire/flooding/destruction, and depiction of a panic attack. Wordcount: 5.8k

There is a plague sweeping Pearl's hometown.

One by one, she watches as her friends fall to the infection, the colour and life drained out of them and leaving hollow, apathetic husks behind. Even with the devastating loss of her friends, her village, and her regular life, the worst part of this situation is not the infection.

It's that Pearl knows that Gem is the one spreading it.

[Read on AO3]

It’s a grey day in the fishing village that Pearl calls her home. Not that it’s ever not a grey day, at least not anymore. She stares out of her window at the thick encompassing fog that’s claimed the bay, at the desaturated buildings that dot the shore, and she twirls her paintbrush in her fingers. 

The canvas is blank, of course. She doesn’t remember the last time she sat down to paint and didn’t end up with a blank canvas. It must have been—months ago, at least. Back when the last monster from the depths had attacked, and not a single person had had the heart to fight back. When Tango’s house had been shattered in two, and Tango with it.

(He seems to be dealing well with the loss of his arm, at least. Or, as well as you can deal with anything, when the only things inside of you are all-consuming numbness and apathy. Pearl feels it in her chest, the yawning emptiness, and thinks that if she were to lose her arm right here and now, she also wouldn’t be able to summon the energy to care.)

She’d painted after that, though. She remembers it vividly, waking from a nightmare and running to her studio to capture lashing tentacles and inky waters and splatters of crimson blood. It’s a frenzied piece, a disturbing piece, and the moment she’d finished it she’d been filled with so much dread that she’d turned it around to face the wall and refused to look at it since.

The dread’s gone now. Along with the anxiety, and the uncertainty, and the fear. It’s all gone, and Pearl’s left sitting here, paints drying on the palette as she stares at an empty canvas.

Across the house, she hears her front door swing open and closed. A familiar voice shouts, “Pearl? Pearl, where are you?”

“Studio,” Pearl calls back, her voice flat. She continues to twirl the paintbrush as she waits for Gem to trek her way across the house to find her.

“Studio,” Gem echoes as she pushes open the door. “Oh, Pearl, are you painting again? Oh, I’m so happy for—oh.” The joy in her voice vanishes as she takes in Pearl, sitting on her stool, paintbrush raised and canvas empty. “Oh, Pearl…” 

Sympathy. Pity. Concern. Pearl can pick apart the emotions in Gem’s voice, even if she can’t feel them herself. She stares back blankly, because she can’t find it in herself to care about either aspect of the situation, whether it be her own inability to paint or the way that Gem’s looking at her like she’s a wounded animal.

“Come on,” Gem says softly, crossing the room and gently prying the brush from Pearl’s fingers. Pearl lets her. She’s not really painting, anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we? A nap will do you some good.”

Pearl lets Gem help her up, lets Gem allow Pearl to lean on her for support as they make their way back to Pearl’s bedroom. It’s not like Pearl has any difficulty walking. She’s not sick, she’s not injured, she’s just…

Cold. Empty. Not quite lifeless, not in the way Mumbo had been when she’d last seen him, skin and eyes and hair all the same shade of grey-white-nothingness as he’d stared into the distance, completely unresponsive. Listless, maybe, is the better word. She’s halfway to a fate worse than death and she cannot find it in her to care at all.

She feels colder where Gem touches her. She looks down, and she’s not sure if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her, or if her skin is more desaturated where it brushes against Gem’s. She lets Gem help her into bed, lets Gem fluff the pillows and fuss around her, lets Gem sit next to her as she hands Pearl a bowl of soup (“Your favourite!”) and watches her to make sure she eats.

If Pearl were more herself, she would care about what Gem’s doing to her. Care enough to stop it, maybe. Care enough to—no, not to confront her. Every time she’d tried, the words had gotten stuck in her throat. Because she’s known for a long time who’s been behind all of this, behind the corruption leeching all colour from their village, their home, their friends—

And she’d never said anything. Too worried about Gem’s feelings. Too worried about their friendship.

…Pearl realises, as Gem goes to take the empty bowl and brushes her hands against Pearl’s, that she’s not worried anymore.

She waits quietly as Gem washes the bowl in her kitchen, chattering to fill the silence as she does, updating Pearl on their friends’ conditions. Her tone is bright and optimistic, even as her words are dour. Scar seems to be doing the same. Grian’s getting worse. Joel’s down to communicating only in broken phrases—but he should be fine. It definitely won’t be like Mumbo, or Cub, or…

Gem returns to Pearl’s room, regarding her for a long moment before bending down to give her a hug. “Get better soon, okay?” she says into Pearl’s ear. “It’s not the same doing my rounds without you.”

Pearl knows that she’s not getting better. So does Gem, so Pearl doesn’t bother pointing it out. She just nods, lets Gem withdraw, lets Gem run one last hand through her hair.

“You should rest, Pearl,” Gem says, stepping away from Pearl’s bedside. “I’m going to go check on Impy now—”

Pearl’s moving before she’s even properly registered it, grabbing onto Gem’s wrist with force, holding her in place. Gem freezes. Pearl looks up at her through strands of greasy, greying hair.

“Gem,” she says, and it’s the first thing she’s said in days, and her voice is hoarse and her throat sore from the strain.

“...Pearl?” Gem replies, and she sounds almost scared.

“Gem,” Pearl repeats, getting used to the sound of her own voice in her mouth again. “I know.”

Gem laughs. It’s a nervous, tittering sound, the laugh Pearl remembers from when they’d gotten into trouble together as kids. “Know what?” she asks, voice strained. 

“That it’s you,” Pearl says flatly. 

Gem stares at her.

Pearl stares back.

Gem swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “Pearl—”

“I know you’re the one doing this to us,” Pearl says, more specific this time, choosing her words carefully, and Gem—

Gem tries to pull away.

Pearl tightens her grip. 

“Pearl,” Gem whines, eyes wide, tugging. “Let me go—”

“Why?” Pearl croaks, and Gem snaps her mouth shut.

---

Pearl’s in the midst of mixing a particularly tricky shade of green when there’s a loud, frantic knock on her front door. She sighs, setting down her brush to rest, and gets to her feet. “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” she calls as the knocks continue, echoing through the house.

She pulls the door open and Tango’s there, a nervous ball of energy, just about ready to bolt. “Pearl!” he calls. “Pearl, come on, we gotta go—” 

He grabs her by the arm and drags her off. Pearl just barely manages to close her front door behind her.

“Wha—? Where are we going? What’s going on?”

“Something washed up on shore,” Tango explains. “The whole town’s there, c’mon.”

Accepting that she’s not going to get an explanation out of him, and now deeply curious about this something, she lets Tango lead her down to the shore by the lighthouse. Sure enough, the whole town is there, a chattering crowd gathered around a spot on the shore that Pearl can’t quite see. Impulse is standing on the edge of the crowd and catches sight of them, raising his arm in a wave. Tango makes a beeline towards him, ducking under the crowd, and Pearl follows behind, apologising to False and Keralis as she bumps into them.

“Did you decide what to do with it yet?” Tango asks as he comes to a halt and finally lets Pearl go.

Impulse shakes his head. “We’ve decided it’s Gem’s call,” he says. “After all, she’s the—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as the crowd suddenly goes silent and parts for Gem, her hair wild and eyes wide behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She’s got her lab coat pulled on over her day clothes, clearly not prepared for this in the slightest. She reaches the front of the crowd and stops dead still, staring at the thing that has washed up on the shore.

Pearl follows her friend’s gaze, and sees it for the first time.

It’s a body. Of course it is. A corpse, taken by the sea and ravaged by the waves and washed ashore by the brutal bay currents. The body’s clothes are torn and sodden, the skin beneath so pale that it could practically be paper. Pearl is stricken, for a moment, with the mental image of her taking a brush to this canvas, filling it back in with colour, painting contours back into its skin, breathing life back into the body.

She shakes her head violently, banishing the thought. Where did that come from? This isn’t a canvas, it’s—

It’s a person. A person who was alive, and is now dead, washed up on the beach like a dead whale and just as much of a spectacle. His eyes are open but rolled back, only the whites showing, and his hair is white too, just as pale as his skin. It stands as sharp contrast against the dark fabric of his torn clothes, a mask wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

Pearl swallows hard and averts her gaze back to Gem, who looks just as disturbed by the body as Pearl feels. It takes Gem longer to pull her eyes away, to glance around the crowd. “I’ll—I’ll take it back to my lab,” she says. “Investigate, and—and give him a proper burial.”

The words reassure the crowd, a low chatter beginning up again. 

“Skizz, will you help me carry him?” Gem calls.

Skizz does, stepping forward from the crowd and helping Gem maneuver the bloated corpse. Pearl finds herself looking at it again, noticing dark striations in the skin, caught in glimpses between the tears in the clothing as it’s moved. 

She shakes her head again, forces herself to look away as the body is carried out and the crowd disperses. The image of the body lingers in her mind. Something settles uncomfortably in her stomach, and she wishes that she’d never opened the door.

---

Things go back to normal after that. Or, well, as normal as they get in the village, at least. False monitors the currents and warns of any incoming floods or monster attacks. Impulse and Tango work maintenance on the fishing boats that Grian and Skizz and Keralis take out into the bay. Mumbo runs the fish market. Cub and Scar come and go along the trading routes. Joel maintains security, or at least the illusion of it.

Gem hides away in her lab running experiments she never explains, and Pearl paints.

She tries to return to her usual fare, brightly-coloured landscapes with fantastical features, but something about her paintings rings hollow when she looks at them. She decides she needs a change, to switch things up and just relax, so she pulls out her paints and a blank canvas and begins with no intentions. Her movements are fluid and free and thoughtless and she falls into a flow state that lasts hours, until she blinks her eyes and awakes to find a portrait before her, a colourless face in full saturation.

The corpse’s visage, so alive she can’t believe it’s not breathing, stares back at her from her easel, and Pearl flinches like she’s been burned.

She hides that painting away, face turned towards the wall, and returns to painting landscapes. They come easier now, and for a time Pearl feels normal, as long as she ignores the canvas in the corner.

It’s Impulse who notices that there’s something wrong first. It’s not surprising that he’d be the first to pick up on it, really. Skizz is his best friend, after all. Of course he’d notice when Skizz stopped laughing, stopped joking, stopped drumming out tunes with his fingers on the side of his boat. And when Pearl sees him, she notices changes too—his skin paler, like he’s spent several weeks locked inside a basement instead of out in the summer sun, his eyes no longer their regular bright blue.

“Hey, Skizzly,” she greets brightly, trying to play at normal, throwing him a bone to grab onto.

Skizz just glances at her before responding with a flat, “Oh, hey Pearl.”

Pearl’s smile falters. “How are you feeling? Impulse told me you’re a little under the weather.”

Skizz shrugs. “Fine, I guess. Did you need something?”

Pearl swallows, something cold sinking in her guts. “No, no, just checking in on you.”

“Gem already checked on me,” Skizz says. “She said I’m not sick.”

“Gem’s not that type of doctor,” Pearl reminds him with a weak smile.

Skizz shrugs again. “She’s the only doctor we’ve got.”

Pearl tries her best not to let that unsettle her.

---

It’s not just Skizz.

It starts with him, but it doesn’t end there. Keralis is next, and then Grian. Mumbo gets sickest the quickest, going from his anxious, affable self to a nearly-unresponsive husk within a week. That scares them all, because even Skizz is still responding when spoken to, still moving when instructed to, even after nearly a month of being infected with… whatever it is that’s going around.

False gets sick without anyone noticing, sequestered away in her lighthouse until she comes into town for groceries looking like a photograph that’s been left in the sun for too long, and that’s when people really start to panic.

And that’s when Gem declares, with all the authority that being a doctor of anthropology afforded her in a tiny town with no real doctor, that she’s putting everyone into quarantine until they can determine the source of the illness. 

“I’m not sick,” Pearl tells Gem when her friend knocks on her door, dressed in full lab gear, her hair out of its usual ponytail and falling forward around her face. She’s pretty sure she isn’t, at least, having hyper-analysed the shade of blue in her eyes in the mirror every morning for the past month. 

“I know,” Gem says. “I want to—I need to—can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Pearl says, stepping aside. “Of course.”

Gem enters, heading down the stairs into Pearl’s living space and staring at the paintings on the wall. Pearl watches her for a moment before stepping closer, resting a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“What’s eating you?” she asks.

Gem snorts out a laugh at that. “I’m not a real doctor, Pearl,” she says.

“I know that.”

“They all need me to be a real doctor for them. I—” She breaks off, runs an anxious hand through her hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I need help.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know how I can help,” she says. “I’m even less of a doctor than you are.”

“I know,” Gem says. “But you’re my friend, and I trust you, and I need—please?”

She stares at Pearl, bright green eyes magnified through thick glasses lenses. Pearl has never been able to say no to those eyes.

“Okay,” she agrees, letting out an uncertain breath. “Okay. What do you need me to do, Dr. Tay?”

Gem laughs again, high-pitched and anxious, and Pearl feels hot and cold all at once.

---

They do house calls. Once a day, Gem and Pearl, and sometimes Impulse, will make a round of the village, checking in on everyone. Gem brings some of her lab equipment and a notebook, where she scribbles down all the readings she takes from her instruments and any observations she makes. After the first week or so, Pearl also takes to bringing a sketchbook and a small travel painting kit, attempting to record the desaturation rate in her friends’ colours. 

It doesn’t matter which way they look at it—the situation is bad, and rapidly getting worse. Most of the town is infected now, and Skizz is approaching Mumbo’s level of deterioration. Cub fell ill two weeks ago, and Tango—

Well, he’s not quite grey yet, but he looks washed out where he sits at his table, especially next to Gem, all bright copper and ocean blue and forest green. His voice is flat, all of the emotion in it gone, and while he responds in full sentences to Gem’s questions as Pearl attempts to capture the moulded-straw colour of his hair, none of his words sound like him. 

Gem wraps up her check-in, and Pearl follows her out, paints packed away in her bag and sketchbook held carefully so as not to smudge the paint. Impulse is waiting for them outside, staring out into the bay, where a low-lying fog has been hanging for days. 

He glances over at them, voice shaking as he asks, “How is he?”

Gem hesitates. “About the same?” she offers. 

Pearl shakes her head. “Worse,” she says, offering her sketchbook to Impulse, pointing out the differences in values between the colours she’d sampled from Tango two days ago to the ones she’d taken today. 

Impulse’s hands are trembling as he hands the sketchbook back to her. “What do we do?” he asks. “They just keep getting worse—Gem, what do we do?”

Gem’s eyes are fixed somewhere out at sea. Her expression is so scarily blank that Pearl would worry she was infected if not for how bright and vibrant she looks against the backdrop of the village. (Are the houses getting greyer? Surely not—surely it’s just the fog, and the fact that the sky has been overcast for a fortnight now—surely—)

“We look after them best we can,” Gem says. “I’m trying—every night I’m working on a cure.”

“And do you think it’ll work?” Impulse pushes.

“I have to,” Gem replies. “It has to.” 

Pearl swallows, and does not voice what all three of them are thinking: what if it doesn’t?

---

Impulse turns up one morning a shade dimmer than he had been the day before. Pearl notices immediately, her stomach lurching at the sight of him. He offers her a smile that’s smaller than his usual ones, a greeting that’s a little flatter than it would usually be. Pearl’s not sure if Gem even notices.

But Pearl notices, and her eyes sting, and she throws herself at him in a way that catches all three of them off-guard.

“Uh, Pearl?” Impulse says, stiff and uncomfortable beneath her. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl mumbles against his ear.

“Pearl?” There’s a peak of distress in his voice but it’s not enough. Gem hears it, too.

“Oh no,” she breathes.

“Okay, guys, seriously,” Impulse says, pushing Pearl away. “What’s going on?”

They just stare at him.

Realisation dawns across Impulse’s face. “No.” 

“Maybe…” Gem sucks in a breath. She reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it. “Maybe you should go home, Impy. Get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse protests. “I’m…” His protest crumbles under their gazes. He slumps, and Pearl knows that he would normally never crumble like that. He’d protest and fight back and keep working until he passed out on the docks and had to be carried back to bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “I’ll help you home.”

Impulse doesn’t protest that either. He knows, as well as the two of them do, how this ends. He knows that there’s no fighting this.

Pearl, very valiantly, does not cry about it.

---

With everyone except the two of them infected, Pearl manages to convince Gem to split the rounds, with her taking half of the houses, and Gem taking the other half, swapping halves every couple of days. Gem is reluctant, but she has no good argument against Pearl’s that this is more practical, and so she agrees.

And that’s when Pearl notices.

She thinks she’s imagining it at first, but the colour swatches in her sketchbook back up her suspicions, damning evidence she can’t ignore.

When she visits her rounds, she finds that the people she’s visiting appear to have stabilised, at least for a couple days, no greyer today than they were when she saw them the day before. And then she swaps with Gem, and notices that Gem’s half of the rotation are far paler, far less responsive, than they had been the last time Pearl had seen them. They stabilise for a couple days, and then they switch, and Pearl’s original rotation have deteriorated massively in the several days since. 

There’s really only one conclusion she can draw from that, and she doesn’t want to draw it. She doesn’t want to believe that the one responsible for this is—

The fog is a permanent fixture of the village now, blanketing the bay in a thick blanket of quiet. Pearl finds it hard to sleep, even the familiar sound of waves muffled by the mist. Kept awake into the early hours of the morning, she finds herself in the studio, a brush in hand, letting the paint take her where it will.

And where it takes her is familiar: the village, desaturated and coated in fog, dark looming shapes in the mist beyond, rising out of the ocean. And there, in the midst of the painting, a bright spot in all the gloom, is Gem, so vibrant she practically lifts off the page.

Pearl stares at it for a long, long time, and then places it face against the wall and tries her best to forget about it.

---

In all the dread, they’d forgotten something important.

The sea isn’t safe. It never has been. Growing up in the bay you learn how to weather the storms, to predict the tides, to flee from floods. You learn how to build barriers, and you learn how to rebuild once the ocean drags them down. 

Pearl knows that her village can handle the sea: she’s seen them do it time and time again over the years. Together, they move as a well-oiled machine, responding to threats from the depths with weathered ease. That’s why she doesn’t expect it, she thinks. 

There’s never been a monster attack that False didn’t warn them about.

But False isn’t capable of doing much of anything at the moment.

And so when the tentacles rise from the waves, there isn’t a warning.

Just a deafening krk-crash that wakes Pearl from a dead sleep with a bolt of adrenaline that’s nearly nauseating. She scrambles from her blankets, still in her pajamas, and rushes up the stairs to throw on her boots. It’s edging towards winter now, the weather much milder than the summer months, and though it’s not cold by any stretch of the imagination the chill of the air still makes her shiver. She grits her teeth, racing from her front door to the village proper, and there—

There’s a sea monster, dark purple tentacles reaching out to the shore, destroying everything in its wake. The fish market is half gone, and it’s awful, but it’s a relief, in a way, because nobody lives there.

“Gem!” Pearl screams into the night.

“Pearl!” she hears echo back, followed by distant footsteps, growing ever-closer. 

Gem’s face is flushed, her hair wild, her eyes wide. She’s also in her pyjamas, her lab coat that’s been ever-present for months now gone, and Pearl finds her eyes drawn to dark striations in her skin. They look like—

“Pearl,” Gem says again. “We need to get everyone out, away from the shore, up to the research centre—”

Pearl nods. “Got it,” she says. She points towards the docks and says, “I’ll head over there.”

Gem nods. “Be safe,” she says, and then she’s off again, pelting in the direction of the lighthouse.

Pearl doesn’t bother knocking as she throws Impulse’s door open. He’s still lucid enough that he’s been startled awake by the noise, though it hasn’t driven him to do much more than put his shoes on and stare out of the window at the dark shapes rearing up out of the fog.

“Impulse!” Pearl cries.

“Pearl?” Impulse says, glancing at her with dull eyes.

“We need to get people out,” she says.

There’s an extended pause, then, “Okay.”

“Can you get Skizz?” she asks. “Tango, too, maybe? I need to go to the beach, help everyone down there.”

Another extended pause, then a nod. “I can do that,” Impulse says. He moves too slowly, not driven by the same panic flooding Pearl’s veins, but it’s good enough. It has to be. Pearl doesn’t have time to consider the alternative.

She goes racing off for the beach. She throws open Keralis’ door first, relieved that he is, at least, wearing underwear when she drags him from his bed and into the night. She leaves him there while she grabs Grian from his hut, and then takes them both by the wrists, pulling them along behind her while she races for the cliffside.

It feels like hours that she races back and forth, grabbing her friends from their homes and dragging them in various states of comprehension to the safety of the cliff before running back into the danger zone. Grian’s hut is gone, and so is a large portion of the road. The tentacles have taken a chunk out of the farms further up the coast. Gem’s been taking the people she rescues a different route up to the research facility, the path that Pearl’s taking cut off to her by debris.

Once she’s got everyone on her side of town, she collapses panting on the grass, her lungs aching with the strain. There’s a fire somewhere down on the shore, someone’s lantern knocked astray by swinging tentacles. Her eyes burn just from looking at it.

A voice says, “I got him.”

Pearl looks up.

It’s Impulse, manhandling a colourless, greyscale Skizz.

Pearl goes cold.

“Where’s Tango?” she asks.

Impulse blinks. Slowly. Too slowly.

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll go get him.”

Pearl shakes her head, rocketed up to her feet by panic once again. “No, I’ll go,” she gasps. “You stay here.”

And then she’s off running again, beelining for Tango’s house, praying to any higher power that will listen that she’s not too late. Her lungs ache. Her legs burn. She can’t quite catch her breath. She’s shaking.

And then she’s knocking down Tango’s door, grabbing him from his bed against the far wall, dragging him away—

The roof coming down sounds like thunder, like the sky split open and gutted for parts. Pearl goes down hard, stars bursting behind her eyes, her breath coming out empty and then as a whine. She blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark, for her ears to stop ringing, and that’s when she hears it.

It’s—not a scream. More of a whimper, or a wail, stretched out and awful and pained and punctuated by short, desperate gasps. It goes straight to her stomach, straight to making her sick, and she doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want to move.

But, god, she has to, doesn’t she?

She wiggles her fingers, her toes, and lets out a deep groan as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. The world has narrowed in on itself, the open air of Tango’s house reduced to a crawlspace, and she shuffles down it, rubble and debris tearing her skin open and leaving bloody red marks on desaturated wood. It is a far cry from the blood she finds, practically brown with how much colour has been leeched from it. 

“Oh, my god,” she chokes. “Tango…”

Tango just moans in response. She can’t tell if he’s pale from blood loss or pale from the infection, but either way it has the effect of making him look half dead. He’s half buried beneath the rubble, body jerking with what she can only assume is pain, barely felt beneath the weight of numb apathy.

“I gotta get you out of here.” The words taste acrid against her tongue. Or maybe that’s the smoke. She can’t tell. “I’ve got you.” She grabs Tango by his good arm and grimaces. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s not a reassurance for him. Not really. Pearl’s familiar enough with his condition by now to know that he can’t really care about being okay at this point.

It’s more for her as she does her best to get leverage in the small space and pulls. 

When Tango screams, she knows it’s completely involuntary, an animal howl of agony that stops her short. Pearl gasps, tears on her cheeks, head spinning. “Please, no,” she begs, and she doesn’t know if she’s talking to him or the higher power that’s been ignoring her for weeks. “No, no, I gotta—I—”

“Pearl?”

“Gem!” Pearl cries. “Gem, please, I need—it’s Tango—he’s—”

“I’ve got you,” says Gem’s voice, familiar and close as footsteps pound across rubble. There’s a series of grunts and clunks as rubble shifts, and then there’s light pouring into the crawlspace, which is no longer so much of a crawlspace. Gem stares at the two of them, Pearl in tears on her knees and Tango half buried and lying in his own dull blood. 

“Okay,” she gasps out, and she sounds terrified. “Okay,” she repeats, steadier this time. 

Pearl wants to be relieved, but she’s just on the other side of hysterical. Gem’s holding an axe, which she must have used to clear the rubble, and she steps forward with it held between white knuckles.

“Hold him still,” she tells Pearl.

Pearl swallows. “Gem?” she whispers.

“Please.”

Gem glances down at Pearl, and god, she never has been able to say no to that, has she?

She shuffles forward, puts her weight against Tango, holds him still. Squeezes her eyes shut.

It doesn’t make it any better.

It doesn’t stop her from hearing the sick crunch of the axe cutting through bone or the blood-curdling scream Tango lets out.

It doesn’t stop her from feeling the sudden lack of resistance as she pulls Tango’s bleeding body away from the rubble, leaving his arm behind.

---

Pearl manages to hold it together until they’re able to get Tango safe and stable. Once the wound has been cauterised and disinfected and bandaged, and he’s left sitting with a mostly-unresponsive Skizz and an Impulse who’s just aware enough to be awkward about how little he feels for his friend, she walks away from the town’s refugees on the hillside until she can no longer hear them, and they can no longer hear her. She stands for a moment, surveying the damage below, the sun rising over the sea and the flooded streets and destroyed buildings, and she sucks in a breath that knocks her to her knees.

The panic attack comes in quick half-breaths and waterlogged wails, her hands gripping at her hair and pulling it hard enough to hurt. The world blurs around her as she chokes on saltwater and bile, her ears ringing with screams and funeral bells. When the hands settle on her shoulders she barely feels them—only feels them when they rise to her wrists and untangle her fingers from her hair.

“—earl? Pearl. Look at me. Come on, I know you can do it.”

“Ge-em,” Pearl chokes out. “I can’t—I—”

“I’ve got you,” Gem soothes. She takes Pearl’s hands in hers, squeezes them tight, real and grounding. “See, come on, that’s it. Breathe with me.”

Pearl blinks tears from her eyes as she tries to time her breathing to Gem’s. She’s not very good at it, her heart too quick and Gem’s too slow, but it helps, dragging her down from the high of panic. 

“That’s it,” Gem breathes. She lets go of Pearl’s hand, reaching up to push the hair out of Pearl’s face, cupping her cheeks in her palms. “See? Nice and calm. Everything’s fine, see?”

“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, and the words feel hollow. Her panic feels hollow, somewhere above her body, her soul sunken to somewhere below her knees. She sucks in a breath, lets Gem wipe tears from her eyes with her thumbs.

Gem is so bright. A searchlight in a storm, a ray of rising sun through the dark. The world seems to grey around her. 

Pearl reaches out, splaying her hand against Gem’s cheek, a clumsy echo of Gem’s own reassuring, grounding touch. Gem is still so bright, vivid enough that Pearl doesn’t think any paint could capture it. 

And Pearl, held in comparison, is grey and dull. A shade, drained of life.

She swallows. Lets out a shaking breath. Looks up into Gem’s green eyes, sees the fear and regret in them, and can barely summon her own panic or hurt in return.

“Oh,” she says, and the word falls like a stone, plunging into the depths.

---

Pearl lets out a breath. “It was the body, wasn’t it?” she asks, loosening her grip. “The one that washed up. It did something to you.”

Gem swallows. She pulls away, holding onto her own wrist where Pearl had dropped it, clutching it to her chest. “I’m so hungry, Pearl,” she whispers. “I fade so fast now. I need… I need…”

“You’re going to kill us.” Gem flinches at the words. “You know that, don’t you, Gem? You’re going to kill us. You are killing us.”

“I just need your colours,” Gem replies, a whine in her voice. “I just…”

“What happens when we’re gone, Gem? What happens when you’ve taken all the colours? What happens then?”

Gem stares at her. There are tears in her eyes. They don’t quite fall, but Pearl can feel them drip into her hollow heart. There’s an ocean between them now and Pearl doesn’t have the wits to cross it. She doesn’t care enough to cross it, and she doesn’t feel enough to care about that. 

“I have to go and check on Impy,” Gem repeats, her voice thick. “I’ll see you later, Pearl.”

“You won’t,” Pearl calls after her as Gem hurries for the door.

Gem doesn’t reply, just slamming the door shut in response.

Pearl sits in bed for a long time, staring at the wall with hazy vision. Her thoughts are muffled under the thick fog that chokes the village, and so when she finally stands, she’s not entirely sure why. She lets her body carry her back to her studio, picks up a canvas from against the wall, and places it on her easel. She sits down in front of it and stares.

Gem’s face stares back at her, the only alive thing in a dead and colourless world.

[deusfoundry]

18+ only mdni pls thank u!

also big BIIG thanks to ree @tbaluver for helping me w this ILY MWAAH!

zayne would never be opposed to letting you have your way with him.

one half-lidded gaze from you, one graze of your manicured nails at his clothed length, one drag of your wet tongue against the shell of his ear as you tell him how badly you want him inside you, and he's a goner. already, he's letting you drag him to the bedroom. sometimes neither of you even have the patience to go there, and zayne ends up pinning you against the wall just outside his office, his palms desperately clinging to the back of your thigh in a way that burns. sometimes he settles on having you bent over his desk, his chest pressed against your back, the same nails clawing at the heavy mahogany, papers hastily pushed to the side.

but this report is important. it's due first thing in the morning, and as much as he wants to be in bed with you, right now he has to finish this.

when you first approached him tonight with the pure and genuine intention of getting him to sleep early, he dismisses you apologetically. he places a hand on your cheek, swiping his thumb right below your eyes as if he's wiping your tears and tells you he's sorry. he'll be there soon, and you should go to sleep if you're feeling tired (which he knows you are, if the yawn you struggle to push down is anything to go by).

he watches your figure retreat from his office, shoulders hunched and footsteps unnervingly silent. the guilt starts to simmer within him, slowly, steadily eating at him until he's filled with thoughts of abandoning his work to put that smile he adores back on your face. he wills his focus back on the screen in front of him instead, dead set on making it up to you after his shift tomorrow. perhaps he can even afford to clock out a little earlier, just in time to pick up two boxes of the strawberry macarons you two love so much from a cafe at the other side of town right before they close.

except, you come back to his office a half hour later, and this time, zayne knows you're up to no good.

it's in the little things. you're sauntering towards him with a sway to your hips. the first two buttons of his shirt you're wearing is undone, one side of the collar pulled to the edge of your shoulder, exposing to him a dangerous amount of smooth skin. the cherry on top is the noticeable absence of the shorts you were wearing earlier.

zayne wonders if you'd forgo wearing your underwear as well.

"zayne..." it's there, too. in the way you say his name, drawled out and a little breathless. if he listens closely, he can hear the undertone of a whine.

he feels the all familiar strain in his pants.

zayne watches, a mix of amusement and intrigue, as you rub a palm up and down the length of his arm before nudging it away and sliding yourself onto his lap. you encase his neck between your arms, using it to anchor yourself closer until you're right on top of his increasingly aching cock.

you make no comment about the bulge in his pants poking your thighs, but he knows you're aware of the effect you have on him. a smug grin makes it way to your lips. just a flicker, a brief moment where you acknowledge what you're doing to him, and it's gone the next second.

"i'm not feeling too well, doctor. i think i need a check-up."

you begin feigning distress, making a show out of curling into yourself and leaning against his chest. the movement you make causes the fabric on your shoulder to slip off. slowly, like each added inch of skin baring itself to him is taunting him. it stops, resting right in the middle of your arm, low enough that he can see the better part of your left breast.

his face runs hot, but he decides to humor you. just for the few seconds he could afford to spare if he wanted to finish this report before midnight.

the back of zayne's hand finds your neck. he moves it around a little, shifting from one side to another as if he's checking for your temperature.

"there's nothing particularly off about your temperature." he hums, sliding you further down his lap, intent on pouring all his attention to his work. he'll just have to deal with his ... problem later.

zayne almost misses the way your face falls in disappointment once you realize what he's doing. there's that guilt again.

he plants a kiss on your temple, his lips lingering on the side of your head much longer than it should've had. he's hoping it's enough to convey his words unsaid.

"perhaps you're just missing a few hours of sleep. shall i accompany the patient back to her bedroom?"

you stay quiet, lips pursed in deep thought. the silence stretches on until zayne gathers it's time for him to speak.

only, you beat him to it, moving to straddle his thighs so quickly that zayne can only react by wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don't fall. you land right back over his cock with enough force that it pulls an involuntary groan out of his lips and a whimper from yours.

"i think-" you breathe in, a sharp inhale through your nose before you breathe out through your mouth. the searing heat of your breath on zayne's ear makes him shiver beneath you, low vibrations sending a jolt to your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

"i think this requires a more..." you take his hand in yours, shakily drawing it closer to hover over your breast. "hands-on approach, doctor."

zayne's head is spinning. your cunt over his painfully hard cock. the odd warmth radiating from your chest, the faint shadow of your pert nipples through his shirt. this look you're giving him, eyes hazy and half-closed like you're already lost in the pleasure when you've barely gotten enough. it's too much.

it's all too much.

"dear-"

he's cut off by the drag of your hips, pressing down on him with enough pressure that his head is thrown back from the friction of the inner fabric of his pants rubbing against his length, but just shy of the speed you both need to chase your high.

zayne finally puts his foot down when your pace starts to get more frantic. he pries his hand off of yours, using the combined strength of his arm around your waist and his hand on your hips to steady you.

he hears a quiet whine slipping past your lips at the loss of pleasure.

"stop. t- that's enough." he means to add more conviction to his words, but he finds that his voice comes out as less polite pleading and more pathetic begging. "i'll make it up to you later, just- just let me finish this."

a mix of whimpers and whines fall off your lips. you try to move despite his restraints, rolling your hips with as much fervor as you can muster. and it works. zayne moans, his arms going limp over that momentary burst of pleasure. you take advantage of his weakened state to full on ride his clothed cock.

zayne begins to lose himself. the thought of his report sits there, idly in the back of his mind, but it's almost completely replaced by you. you, and the delicious roll of your hips into his, filling his vision with the sight of stars and the whole universe. you, and the blissed out look on your face as you use his body to chase your pleasure. you, your eyes shut in concentration, your messed up hair, your nails clawing at his shoulders.

you.

you.

you.

you've almost consumed him whole.

almost.

zayne regains his bearings just in time to stop you from going over the edge. your eyes are pried open, jaw slacking as his hand finds your waist once more. you're about to complain, beg him to allow you to keep going. but his fingers dig into your flesh. his grip, firm yet delicate, sends an odd blend of pain and pleasure through your senses.

"i said that's enough."

zayne says—no, commands with a certain finality in his voice that makes you think he wants to stop altogether. but you find his actions contradicting his words when he pushes his chair back, providing him enough space to turn you around with ease.

your mind is having trouble keeping up with him. you can make out the sound of his zipper being pulled, the rustling of his pants as he yanks it down just enough for his length to spring free, the light slapping of skin on skin when his cock makes brief contact with your back. but you only come face to face with what's happening when zayne hoists you up by the waist, dragging your panties to the side. your juices from earlier acts as a lubricant for him to sheathe his cock into you with little resistance.

you're so full so suddenly, gummy walls gripping him like a vice. the tip brushes against that spot inside you that zayne knows sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"zayne-!"

"shh, be quiet." he slides the chair back towards the desk, his arm unmoving around your waist. every slight twitch of his cock has you clenching down on him, but zayne makes no move to react. your only indication of how riled up he truly is are his hand latching on to your skin and the minute quiver of his voice, breath hot and shaky over your ear.

you're reminded of how it was him in this position a moment ago. how it was seemingly your victory.

"now, why don't you be a good girl and stay still."

something tells you you're in for a long night.

a/n: smut is surprisingly fun to write lmfao HKASHFD

dividers by @cafekitsune

[russo-woso]

Comment || Arsenal x reader

Request | Masterlist

Warning mention of bullying, mental health problems, mention of suicide

Summary You accidentally reveal why you don’t interact with your team

A/N this is a sadddd and angsty one so buckle in

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N, you’re coming to the restaurant with us, right?” Katie asked, seeing you try to scurry out of the room without anyone noticing.

Unfortunately for you, Katie saw you and was curious whether she’d see you at the restaurant that night.

To celebrate the end of the year and Christmas, the team had organised a meal out at a local restaurant, nothing much but enough to satisfy the whole team.

You hesitated a bit, you also unaware of your own answer.

You see, you hadn’t always had the best experiences with a team.

Your previous teammates had made a few comments here and there about you.

She doesn’t deserve to get minutes

Why did the club even sign her

Shittiest player I’ve ever seen

Drop her back down to the Sunday league

At first, they were just small remarks that happened every so often, but then it turned to 24/7.

In the changing rooms, over text, on the pitch. Everywhere, anytime.

They were bullying you.

And even when you brought it upon the manager, he just shrugged, ‘that’s banter for you’ he had told you whilst laughing.

Maybe you were just being sensitive. Maybe you were taking it the wrong way. Maybe this was how a team was supposed to play.

From that moment onwards, you thought it was normal.

You didn’t complain about it anymore, just bottling up your emotions so they didn’t have to see it.

It wasn’t until a very poorly played game that you realised just how damaged they’d made you.

You had played the final four minutes of the game.

When you ran onto the pitch, your team was already losing 4-0.

And although you’d impacted the game massively and had prevented two goals in them four minutes, you were entirely blamed for the loss.

You had dreaded walking into the changing rooms after, all your teammates angry at their performances but somehow blaming it on you made it a lot better.

One of your teammates had squared up to your shaking body, their finger pointing at you.

Your breath became uneven as you closed your eyes in dread.

“You were shit today! You were the reason we lost! You were a let down today. You made us lose! Do us all a favour, Y/L/N and fuck off. We don’t need you on our team! You just fuck up our play and make us fucking lose! Nobody likes you, Y/N. You’re a shit player!” She screamed, the rest of the girls agreeing. She finished shouting at you, but was not finished without pushing you to the floor.

You put on a strong face, standing up and grabbing your stuff before walking out.

You walked for miles in the rain, no car, your phone dead, just you and your thoughts.

You don’t remember much from that night, you’d passed out on some bridge for most of it.

But you remembered one thing.

You remember laying on the bridge, your body fighting for consciousness and thinking would it be so bad if you were to never wake up?

Would anyone actually miss you?

You had your mum left but she mainly focused on your older brother more - he’s a lawyer and had kids - no more explanation needed.

You were so close to completely giving up, so close to letting ending everything.

You used all your strength, pulling yourself up and taking yourself over to the edge of the bridge.

The river underneath was violent, the water crashing against its beds with purpose.

You started counting down in your head, dunking it with your heartbeat.

3… 2…

“Dear! What are you doing?” A voice exclaimed from behind you.

You turned with watery eyes to see a woman, 65 maybe?

You looked in her eyes, a solace look in them.

“Please… look at me. I’m a complete stranger to you. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. But what I do know about you, is you have so much to live for that maybe you don’t realise you have. Take a look around. What do you see?” She began, taking a few steps towards you.

“Bushes, the river, trees.” You listed, taking deep breaths steady your breathing.

“Trees. Look how they’re blowing in the wind. They’ve got no control over themselves. They’re being pushed around and they can’t do anything, but one thing that they are doing, is having a tiny bit of strength to keep them standing. A storm may have big impacts but at the end of the day, they go away. What you’re going through now is just a storm, I promise. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Go travel, go to London, go somewhere you’ve never been before. You’re just stuck in a storm, a bad one, but at the end of everyone is sunshine.”

You listened to her words, taking into account what she was saying.

Slowly but surely, you stepped back from the edge, collapsing into the womens arms.

You’ll never forget that night.

The woman, you didn’t even find out her name, but you knew she was your guardian angel that night.

And although you didn’t completely believe her words, she was right.

You were in the middle of a passing storm.

Not only two days later, you were sat in your managers office being told you were going to another club.

You were given a list of clubs that were interested but one stood out massively, a London club.

You were doing what the woman told you to do, you were going to London.

Which leads you back to the conversation with Katie, your Arsenal teammate.

“Umm… I’ll have to see how tired I am.” You lied, making up a random excuse.

“You said that last time, Y/N.” Alessia pointed out, a playful smile on her face, a completely innocent one which meant no harm.

“And the time before that.” Kyra then added, gently knocking her shoulder into yours.

“Please come, Y/N. I barely know you, it’ll give us time to get to know you.” Steph explained

You hesitated between yes and no.

“Okay. I’ll be there.” You finally said after a few moments.

Everyone cheered, telling you what time to be there and how excited they were that you’d said yes to going.

Maybe these girls aren’t as bad.

—

You were one of the first ones to arrive at the restaurant, not wanting to be late.

Katie and Caitlin were already there and called you over.

One by one, the team filled the table, a buzz filling the air as everyone chatted to each other.

You sat quietly at the end of the table, having nothing really to say.

“What’re you doing for Christmas, Y/N?” Alessia asked, obviously realising no one was talking to you.

“Nothing much. I’ll probably get a few snacks in and watch some…” you began but soon slowed down your words as you set eyes on someone from across the room.

There, sat your guardian angel, your lifesaver.

“Y/N?” Alessia asked, confused but followed your eyeline to see the woman. “Are you okay?”

“I haven’t seen her in months.” You mumbled to yourself but Alessia also heard.

“Who is she?”

“She saved my life.” You responded, not knowing it would lead to you revealing your secret.

“Oh my god…” Alessia whispered, realising it was a big moment for you seeing her again. “Is she a doctor? Were you ill?”

“No.” You shook your head, your eyes not leaving the woman. “My old team, they used to make comments about me. It started with a few - what I thought were harmless - comments but they continued coming. Over message, in the changing rooms, on the pitch. They made me feel like I didn’t belong there - that I didn’t belong on earth. After the match against PSG—” you began

“—The one where you played a few minutes?” Alessia questioned, you nodding in response. “You played incredible that match. You completely turned the game around.”

“Yeah, I thought that too. But after the match in the changing rooms, I got blamed for the loss. My old teammate pushed me to the floor and the rest of them laughed at me. I ended up walking into the rain and walked for miles. I collapsed on this bridge at some point and I decided to go towards the edge. I was counting down in my head. My heart wasn’t racing, I think it was the calmest I’d felt in years. It was what all my teammates wanted so I was going to do them all a favour. I was going to… I was on seven when I heard a voice behind me. It was her. She saved me.” You explained, looking back to Alessia but seeing 25 sets of eyes on you.

Most of the girls had tears in their eyes, your story hitting them hard.

“That’s why it took so long for to come out with you. It wasn’t any of you personally and I’m sorry if it felt like that but I don’t think I can ever trust teammates again.”

“Y/N, don’t say sorry.” Leah’s breathed out, leaning over the table to take your hand in hers. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I know it might take some time to realise but not all teams are like them. If you can, can you please trust us. We want to show you what being in a true team feels like.” Kim told you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“We’re here for you, Y/N. Here at Arsenal, we’re not just a club, we’re a family. Whether you like it or not. Some of us - Kyra - can be annoying sometimes but at the end of the day, we’re a family, and that’s the most important part. We’d like nothing more than to be your family from now on.” Lia added, sending you a smile.

“A family, huh? I think I’d like that.” You said, a smile appearing on your face.

“Enough of that now. That’s your past, it’s time to think about the future. And I’m not having you all alone on Christmas so you’re coming with me to my family on Christmas.” Alessia stated confidently, not giving you any choice.

“Alessia, I can’t, it’s your—”

“Ah, no — remember we’re family.” Alessia told you, hitting your shoulder with hers.

“Family.” You whispered quietly, smiling to yourself.

You took another look over to the woman.

She was still talking away to the man she was with but managed to catch your eye.

She sent a wink and a smile over to you.

You took your eyes off her for seconds and when you looked again, she was gone.

You never knew her name, and you didn’t know who she was, but you couldn’t be more grateful.

Not only had she saved your life that night, but she had also brought you a family.

[seokmn]

LONELY DANCERS

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

wc: 1.1k words

warning: mentions of drinking and kissing

lua’s notes: 100% inspired by this conan’s banger. there you go my vernon lover @k1eev enjoy dancing with him 💋💋

“no- seungkwan, you dont understand. i simply cannot find soojin!” vernon said on the phone. the music was blasting, and he was not only looking but walking around the unknown house, taking a good look at every person that was surrounding him. “its like she disa-“ he cut himself off, “found her. seungkwan, ill talk to you later.”

vernon ended the call with his friend and just stood there watching his date from afar while she was kissing another guy. he clenched his jaw and kept looking like he couldnt take his eyes off of her and the guy she was basically swallowing in front of everyone at that party.

suddenly everything started to slow down and the music started to die. and still, he was there staring at the girl, the girl who was supposed to be his for the night – and, at least he thought, for a really long time. his surroundings only seemed to get back to normal when he felt a tap on his shoulder, he looked to his side and saw someone smiling at him.

“is one of them your crush? youre staring at them for a while now” you said as you got close to his ear so the music wouldnt be a problem for him to listen to you. vernon looked at you, not knowing if he should tell you the truth or not. “i suppose it is” you said when you noticed he wasnt going to tell you and chuckled. in response, he only gave you a quick smile, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“its okay! if that makes you feel better, my boyfriend broke up with me tonight. youre not the only one who got dumped here”

“sorry to hear that” he said, not exactly knowing what to say since that fact didnt make him feel better at all, but he still wanted to be polite. "im yn, by the way.”

“im vernon” he smiled, his shy smile made you smile as well. “wanna join me for the night? or do you wanna keep staring at them like a creepy?”

“do i look like a creepy?” you looked at his worried expression and nodded, “you have no idea how much. cmon, lets get you a drink.”

you took his hand and walked towards the crowded kitchen. “you down for some vodka and cola?”, he looked around before looking back at you, “sure, why not?”. you smiled and served him the drink before making one for yourself as well.

“so… is it the girl or the guy?”. he took a sip of his drink, looking at it and nodding with his lips curled downward, a signal that he liked the drink, before responding “the girl”

“was she your girlfriend?”

“no, we were more like a fling, but i thought things were getting serious. looks like i was wrong” you groaned and looked at him, “thats the worse. im sorry to hear that.”

vernon just shrugged his shoulders and kept drinking while you were still looking at him, wanting to keep the conversation going, but not knowing how to. “my boyfriend… well, ex boyfriend,” you chuckled bitterly before continuing, “and i were dating for four months. i guess its not too much, but i certainly didnt see the breakup coming, specially right before coming here”. you sighed, “guess our love life will have a different path from now on”

vernon nodded and was about to speak before you cut him off, “you know what? forget those assholes, they dont know love and honestly? i hope they die. so you should get back up, cuz by the end of the week we’ll be alright! youre a very good looking guy, im sure youre hella interesting and im good looking and interesting as hell! we dont need them! fuck them!” you said as you started to tear up from anger. you took a deep breath and smiled at vernon. “i gotta dance or else ill cry. wanna join me?” you looked at him with hope in your eyes.

“yea, lets dance”, he didnt even finish his sentence and you were already dragging him back to the living room and starting to dance to the song that was playing. at first, vernon was a little bit shy of dancing in front of everyone, but his shyness was slowly dying as he saw how carefree you were while dancing like there was no tomorrow, like no one was around you two. soon enough, the two of you were having the time of your lives, dancing like it could save you from a heartbreak or even save your lives and it really felt like it could save you from any worries or danger.

your movements started to slow down as both of you started to get a little tired from dancing. you were smiling as you looked at vernon, his smile making you smile even wider. it felt like there was only you and him in that moment, your heart was beating fast and you couldnt tell if it was because of all the dancing or if it was because of him standing right in front of you.

the euphoria you were feeling was too intense. you kept looking at vernon, it was clear that he was getting tired, but he continued dancing anyway, enjoying his time and forgetting about his ex date’s existence. once he finally made eye contact with you, you didnt think twice – actually, you didnt even think – and leaned forward, your lips meeting his.

you felt your heart beating even faster once you felt his soft lips in contact with yours. you broke the kiss right after you got back to earth and thought about what you were doing. “oh my god im so sorry i didnt mean to! i mean… yeah, maybe i did but its just because i thought the moment was ri-“ vernon cut you off by kissing you, placing his hand on your cheek when you started to kiss him back. you couldnt tell if your body relaxed or got even more excited when he kissed you, all you could tell was that you were enjoying it and that his kiss was out of this world.

when he broke the kiss he looked at you, who was looking at him like he committed a crime by pulling his lips away from yours. he looked around before looking back at you, “i know a better place than this crowded house, wanna go with me?”

you smiled and nodded, “sure, this party is kinda lame anyway”. he chuckled and nodded, fixing his cap before placing his hand on your lower back and leaving the party with you.

[kingofthering-two]

Hi guys, Maïna / kingofthering here. You might have heard or noticed that I got my account terminated yesterday (and had the joy to discover you don’t just lose your sideblog but all the blogs associated with your account).

What happened? As I mentioned last week, I received my 2nd strike for copyright infringement on the 11th of December and I protested it (sent a DMCA counter notice) on the 12th. Tumblr forwarded the counter notice to the claimant on the 16th, leaving them 10 business days to answer before I could get the strike taken away and the content restored. Unfortunately, yesterday, on the 19th, I received my third strike and it came with the termination of my account. 

How is it fair that tumblr lets you receive a new strike so soon after the precedent one, when you couldn’t even have the time to finish fighting the first one? I legitimately don’t know. I’ve tried to contact them about this but they don’t treat the messages since it’s coming from a terminated account. I think I need to send the message with another email address, which I might do later.

Could my account come back? In theory, from what I’ve read online, yes, but that remains to be seen from my end for me to be completely sure of that. My only current hope is for the blog to reappear when I get my first and second strikes removed (the first is from January but I never thought of fighting it before because it was videos so I thought they didn’t stand a chance but now I genuinely believe the type of content doesn’t matter). 

In September, there were 14 days between the counter notice being sent and me getting my content back (10 business days + weekends) and I suppose we might have to take into account Christmas here. I think that in the best case scenario, I might hear from tumblr on the 30th of December, maybe the 31st.

What now? I briefly considered using this as a (forced) break from tumblr. I tried to have one earlier this year and failed miserably. I think that the older I get, the less patience and tolerance I have for things that annoy me (and get past the filtering system) (but also things outside of tumblr, seeing my gifs get reposted to twitter, something that happened again recently, really annoys the fuck out of me). But, at the end of the day, the good outweighs the bad (annoying) far much, when it comes to this website and this community. If I check my tumblr app screentime on my phone, I might cry at how bad it is. I do want to finish the projects I have ongoing (the RPF survey answers will be studied and treated and shared) and keep in touch with everything happening on here.

I’m going to use this current account to browse tumblr at least until the end of the year. I’ve already seen glimpses of stories that I need to catch up on and I’ve seen you guys being very supportive already (thank you) so I felt like making myself reachable here was better. Posting wise, I’ll probably post about things that I know are safe i.e. things of my own (stats, my progress on the 2025 journals) and gifs of things not coming from Dorna (e.g. reels/tiktoks, podcast videos).

What then? The only thing I can tell you for sure is that no matter what happens next, I’m going to create an archive blog on a separate account (with a dedicated email address). This blog will not have posts of its own but only reblogs of content I originally posted on kingofthering. If I can have my old account back, the job will be made much easier (and will obviously be more complete). If not, I’ll have to rely on a lot of research to get things back as best as I can. Don’t worry about this for now, I’m going to wait until I know for sure about my old account to start the process (since the method will be very different depending on the answer on that).

For 2025, we will see. The thing is, even if I get my account back, I know that I will keep getting strikes (even if I’m not posting anything because old posts of mine have been targeted as well) and honestly, even if fighting them works, it’s both stressful and exhausting. Also, people have been winning the battles against the strikes for now but who knows how long that will last.

And like I mentioned, it’s a sideblog connected to all my other blogs which also depend on kingofthering’s faith. That includes my main blog that I’ve had since 2011 (I don’t use it much but I use it to keep all the useful stuff like the photoshop tutorials, writing prompts, etc), my hockey sideblog (not been using it much either lately but it does have some history I’d like to keep) and a bunch of others.

A solution to keep those other accounts safe would probably be to move everything motorsports related to a new account (maybe this one if I can get my main back) and delete the original kingofthering. It would pain me because of the history of this blog and what I would lose in the process (mostly the asks I haven’t gotten to answer and obviously the following that I had grown but I suppose that I can grow back little by little). It would also mean I couldn’t see anymore the posts in my notes and the tags people add to their reblogs (which is like half the purpose of posting in the first place) and that’s annoying as well but I suppose I could grieve that too, in theory.

If I don’t even get the account back, well. I talk about creating a new dedicated account but if it also gets striked (which I suppose will happen), it will be equally exhausting to fight fo it so, I don’t even know if I want to do that.

At this point, I know which content is safe for sure (or what has been safe so far for me) and there are still a lot of stuff that I enjoy sharing with you and getting your opinion on but giffing race weekends was the major part of my blog and I don’t know how I feel about giving that up. Anyway, much thoughts to have still.

Can you do something to help? I don’t think so. Or, well, not with recuperating my account. In regards with the copyright issue as a whole, though? I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what’s the best course of action there. I’ve seen some discussions around about emails and a petition and involving other social media and bigger people but I genuinely don’t know what’s the best thing to do. I’ve personally always considered tumblr as this little (safe for everything) bubble and I don’t exactly feel comfortable “exposing” some of my content here to the rest of the world (some people on tumblr are already mean enough about RPF, I don’t need to see what people not on here have to say about it). That’s obviously just me and I’m not going to keep anyone from doing what they think is right. Part of me wants to believe that things will fix themselves once Liberty Media take over but that’s not a sure thing and the frequency of strikes lately has been quite worrying so I understand the need to do something. Some thinking over to do there too.

Where can you find me? For tumblr, on here for now. I’m going to post this on the motogp tag and I’ll try to follow my mutuals (from memory so, going to miss a lot of people for sure, sorry in advance). I might appreciate a reblog of this post to spread the word. I still have my twitter (mostly talking stats), the blog and my tiktok (barely being used but still in existence).

If I do the set ups correctly I’ll have my DMs open here and askbox open to anons. I am still bad at answering those, though, so apologies in advance there as well.

(Also, I just got home for the holidays and literally learned about the news when I was in the train yesterday afternoon, so, worst timing ever.)

[dragonfly0808]

About the Dragon Prince Finale

I just finished s7 of the Dragon Prince and i have so many thoughts but there is one thing specifically I want to say about the finale that I feel was just such a perfect way to end the battle, before I hop on and check out what everyone thought-

SPOILERS AHEAD

I’ll be honest, I was so stressed out at the end of ep8 and watching the final battle in ep9 was epic but-

My very first thoughts watching that were initially along the lines of- so… none of our main characters had the final say/final move? What the fuck?

But then I watched the rest of the episode and sat on it for a bit and… it makes perfect sense and wraps up the themes of the show in a beautiful way

The whole theme of the show and one of the most important ongoing things is that of breaking cycles of violence and choosing love, choosing kindness.

During that final battle, all our main characters were ready and willing to give it all to save the world, which is technically speaking the ‘right thing’ to do, the thing we’ve all been waiting for

however; this involved for all three of them, giving up an essential part of themselves. An essential part of ‘breaking the cycles’

Callum would’ve given up on ‘breaking the cycle’ in using dark magic and in sacrificing himself for the greater good. Yeah sure, he’s writing his own destiny, but is he really when it was his only real choice if he wanted to save those he loved?

Rayla would’ve given up on ‘breaking the cycle’ in following in the footsteps of past moonshadow assassins, choosing duty over love in being willing to kill her heart ‘my heart for Xadia’ when she just said episodes before ‘no one should have to shed blood for justice’

And my personal favorite, Ezran. The entire show, from the moment he became king, that kid has given himself wholly to the path of love and kindness, trying to not fall into the mistakes of the past. And yet- he was willing to kill for his brother, to do something that goes against everything he represents, everything he stands for.

^ All of that, in the name of peace, to save the world.

No matter what, each of them would’ve lost an essential part of themselves in choosing to save the world…

But they didn’t have to.

Because the arch dragons- some of the very creatures that BEGAN these cycles of violence and mistakes and hatred… the creatures that had a role in CREATING the world our main characters are trying to make a better place- they are the ones that chose to step in, to sacrifice themselves to make sure these kids with bright hearts and so much love and determination to choose a path of kindness don’t have to sacrifice those parts of themselves.

Like Ezran says, it’s a great gift that the arch-dragons give them. The opportunity to stay true to themselves and still get to stop Aaravos… even if it’s temporary.

So yeah, the moment I watched it for a moment I was like- that was a little anticlimactic but it makes so much fucking sense and it is such a beautiful way to end the series when you stop to think about it.

and I’m choosing to believe that we will get the other 3 seasons NETFLIX GIVE US THE FUCKING SAGA (I haven’t actually checked if anything has been announced yet cause I’m scared) and that that’s when- after 7 years of growth, our main characters get to step in and find a different way to stop Aaravos for good THEIR WAY, without compromising who they are and what they stand for

So yeah, I just had to get that out of my chest cause it took me a minute of silence to realize why it’s so perfect for the show and the genius in this move and i really wanted to share that little brain worm

I LOVED season 7 and I can’t wait to rewatch the whole thing and I truly hope we get the rest of the saga!

[circescircle]

Could I request a GN Tav with Astarion/Gale/Rolan/ or karlach and their Christmas festivities like decorating cookies, Christmas tree decorating, wrapping presents ect

Ooo this’ll be fun. I haven’t interacted with Rolan much, but I do want to write him so I’ll try my best. It’ll be set to the six months after the Netherbrain with the ‘good’ endings.

Astarion

He doesn’t have any traditions (obvi)

Baking? Too messy. Wrapping gifts? Not his favorite, but he’ll make them look nice. Decorating a tree? Too many pine needles.

Truthfully, he’ll do anything as long as you do it with him

From putting flour on your apron to licking icing off your fingers

To wrapping gifts for your family and friends and putting a bow on your head

But above all, I think he’d enjoy decorating a tree

He’d be walking along BG and he’d see a poorly decorated one in storefronts and scoff

(He could do so much better)

And he does

This man has an eye for style. He’d make the most breathtakingly gorgeous tree in a day, despite never doing it before

He does hate tinsel

Despite being extremely dexterous, he’d somehow get it caught on everything

His foot, his fingers, even his hair

(He hates it)

He loves getting you gifts, though

He struggles with words, but gifts?

He can do that

His gifts will be so special since he remembered everything you say

Looked at a necklace too long? Guess what that pretty little gift under the tree is.

He doesn’t remember if his family had any traditions for the holidays. No opening a gift the day before. No matching pajamas. No family dinners. If anything, he used to be rather spiteful towards the holidays. Skulking about Baldur’s Gate, he’d see lovers and families laughing together. All while he was struggling to get through his day to day life.

But then it all changed. He was free. Free from Cazador, free from his past, free from everything that ever haunted him. The nightmares would linger, maybe forever, but it was easier with you.

Especially when you looked so cute in the matching plaid pajamas you made him wear. The garments were loose in you since you insisted on getting the size up.

You were a vision. The moonlight hitting your face made you look ethereal. He knew the necklace he got you, neatly wrapped and waiting to be put under the soon to be decorated tree, would look beautiful on your bare neck.

-

“The tinsel goes around the tree, Astarion,” you snickered, making him huff.

“I’m-” he tried to pull the sparkly string off, “I’m aware, but the damn thing…”

“For a rouge, you’re-”

He shot you a look, “Don’t you finish that sentence.”

With the tree nearly finished, the tinsel was supposed to be quick and easy. For Astarion, he wore it rather well. Wrapped around his ankle and arm, little bits in his hair and his shirt, paired with his signature pout.

You helped take it off of him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “You’re adorable.”

“You’re awful.”

“I love you.”

He huffed, but begrudgingly smiled, “Yes, yes. I love you, too.”

Gale

Morena is beyond excited to meet you, fussing over you like you’re her own child

She enlists your help in getting Gale his gift since she hasn’t seen him in over a year

Tara tags along, of course, not so subtly trying to convince you to get Gale to shave his beard

As for Gale, he’s rushing to finish grading his student’s finals before the school break starts

After a year in isolation and longer still with Mystra, he’s ecstatic to finally rejoin his mother and Tara

Any free time he has is spent on perfecting your gift, a spell that he had been working on since you mentioned missing the stars

Once everything is set and finished, he’d definitely teach you Waterdavian dishes

But baking?

Please help him

He can make potions, write new spells, create flavorful dishes, but baking trips him up

A few well placed hands over his as you stir and eating hot cookies before they’re ready and he’ll love it

But he’ll need you to keep teaching him again. And again. Especially how to stir.

You laughed, your hand over his as you ‘helped’ him fold the batter, “Are you sure you need help?”

“Absolutely,” he chuckled as he kissed the top of your head, “It’s very difficult.”

Rolling your eyes, you scooped up a bit of batter and plopped it on his cheek, making him scoff, “Excuse me, what did I do to deserve this?” He put a dollop on your nose in retribution.

There was more flour and batter on you both than on the baking pan.

—

“Go ahead,” his voice was soft, “open it.”

It felt light. You slowly unwrapped the box. It looked simple enough: a wooden box with a hole at the top with… something inside. You felt along the bottom and pressed on what you assumed to be a button from the ‘click’.

You understood why he wanted the lights down low for the gifts now.

The roof lit up with a light show. A 3D model of the constellations.

“You, ah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “You always look so breathtaking when you’re stargazing. You said something about missing them, so… I just wanted to give that little bit of joy back to you.”

I’m a little stuck on Rolan and Karlach, so I’m going to reblog this with them on a later date. Until then, take this offering.

[brookediamonds]

piece by piece, he collected me up | Axel Kovačević x fem! reader

based off this request

summary: as sam's little sister you were always stuck in the shadow of her when it came to academics, karate, and love. when you were offered a scholarship to train in Hong Kong, you took the chance to venture out and create you're own legacy.

not my gif

It started when your sister showed interest in practicing karate again. You never gave up on the sport, karate was your outlet to the life around you.

Growing up, your older sister was always the one with the better grades, better friends, better relationship with your parents. She even had the better love life.

You loved your sister, but when she expressed wanting to join you in karate, you couldn't help but fake a smile and hold back your tears., ignoring the tightening in your chest. Now she would have the only little attention your dad paid to you.

At the last All Valley tournament when you and Miguel Diaz won in your divisions, there was a surprise second prize that came along with your 1st place trophy.

It was a scholarship to train in Hong Kong with the number one dojo in the entire world. Your parents were hesitant to let you go, but you had convinced them this was a once in a lifetime chance and it's all you could ever hope for.

So you went. You've spent the last two years learning and achieving a whole new level of fighting that you would never have imagined. The Iron Dragons had taught you endurance, discipline, and combat.

Sensei Wolf took a special liking towards you, you had come from a dense only mindset and with your years of experience, you gave his two star pupils, Zara and Axel, a run for their money.

The first few months were extremely hard and difficult to adjust to Sensei Wolf's lessons, but once Zara and Axel got to know you, they finally understood your intentions and no longer saw you as a threat.

Zara showed you mercy after overhearing a call between you and Sam. Your sister was ecstatic her and Miguel had reconnected and that they had kept The All Valley up and going.

Your teammate knew what it was like to live in the shadows of others, it was why she always wanted to be the best. She took you under her wing and broke down the soft side in you, using your defensive moves mix in with your new offense.

And when she caught you checking out the tall blue eyed boy a few times after practice, she made it her life's mission to make sure you and Axel ended up together.

Which you did.

Fast forward to the present, you and Axel had just finished watching a movie at a local theater, and sat together at an ice cream shop enjoying a mint chocolate chip cone.

"You're hogging it," you pout at your boyfriend who held the frozen treat up to his lips.

"It is your fault you make me like this," Axel grins taking another lick of the green substance. You rolled your eyes with a small smile knowing you had indeed introduced him to sweets.

He handed you the cone using his now free hand to wrap an arm around the back of your seat and leaned back, softly running his fingers through your loose hair.

As you and Axel began talking about the movie you saw, your phone suddenly lit up with Sam's face indicating she was FaceTiming you.

With the time zone differences, it was hard to call your family so anytime they reached out, you took the call.

"I'll be right back," you say handing your ice cream cone to the boy next to you. "Don't finish it!"

"I can not promise that," he says making you shove him playfully. Grabbing your phone, you walk over to a secluded corner in the shop and answer the call.

"Hey Sammy," you smile at your sister. She has her phone propped up on her vanity as she did her make up, her pink romper letting you know she was getting ready to go out for the night.

"(Y/n)!" She squeals setting her palette down. "Did you like the movie?"

"Yeah it was actually-"

"I have some exciting news!" Your hyperactive sibling cuts you off. "Miyagi-Do qualified for the Sekai Taikai!"

Your smile fell instantly at her announcement. They were going to Barcelona?

"Oh, that's great!" You put on an enthusiastic attitude. "Dad must be so excited."

"He is! In fact," Sam picked her phone up. "We were brainstorming and thinking we should save you a spot on our team-"

"What?" You cut her off flabbergasted at what she was implying. "You're not saying you want me to join Miyagi-Do for the tournament right?"

She goes quiet, her eyes searching the screen to see you looking back at her annoyed.

"Well, yeah, with you we'd be an unbeatable team," she says. She's looking at you with anticipation, hoping you'll drop the dojo you've grown at.

"No," you respond flatly.

"No?" Sam repeats furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. You licked your lips stating your ground.

"Don't hold a spot for me," you discourage their idea. "Congratulations on making it to the tournament, but you guys did it without me, you can do it again."

Sam is quick to rebuttal and beg you to reconsider but you didn't even entertain the idea of joining them.

"I have to go, but we'll talk later, I love you," you hang up hastily, and hold your phone to your chest.

You couldn't believe the proposition you just heard. You worked your ass to get to where you were, and once again it's being taken from you.

Sauntering back to your table, Axel sat in the same seat waiting for you with a new cone.

"I ate your ice cream so I got new one," he says cutely cracking a smile on your face.

"Thank you," you exhale plopping down next to him. Axel is quick to notice your change in mood, the way you sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder let him know something is wrong.

"How is your sister?" He asks rubbing the side of your arm soothingly.

You pondered if you should tell him about your family's idea, not wanting to give him to think you'd consider switching sides.

"She's good..." you trail off nibbling at your dessert. You feel Axel staring at the side of your face, he brings his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear making you look over at him.

"What is bothering you, my love?" He asks sweetly his low voice making your stomach turn. He knew you all too well.

"Their dojo is going to the Sekai Taikai," you say bummed out. "I love my family, but I wanted just this one thing to myself."

Axel nods, placing his hand over your free one sitting on the table.

"Selfish, I know," you acknowledge avoiding his gaze, finishing off your cone.

"You are anything but selfish," Axel corrects you. "Do not make self small because family over looks you."

"Oh they see me alright," you snort placing your elbow on the table, leaning your head in your hand. "They want me to join them for the tournament."

"Are you going to?" He quizzes you.

"Absolutely not," you shook your head. "You're stuck with me, Kovačević."

The Croatian boy chuckled, relieved you would stay with the team that's taken you in. Axel knew how you had to fight for you father's attention and how much you so badly wanted his approval in life.

Especially in karate.

---------------------------------------------------------

The next few months had flown by, you had trained everyday for hours on end working with Axel and Zara to sharpen your instincts, and skills.

Sensei Wolf had also selected you to be his captain for the girls division to which Zara had praised you on. You'll never forget what she told you that day:

"It's not about where you started, it's about where you finish. This isn't about proving them wrong about your abilities. This is about proving to yourself that you belong here."

It was finally time for the Sekai Taikai, you walked proudly with your green uniform, and white captain's head band tied around your head.

When you came face to face with the people you hadn't seen in over two years, it felt like no time had passed. You resisted the urge to drop your cold demeanor and run across the matt to embrace your dad and sister.

Regardless of your history, you still missed them.

It was when all teams were required to attend the aquarium, you were able to talk to Sam.

"Hey little sis," Sam greets you when your team enters the aquatic building. She's quick to envelope you in a hug, almost knocking you back.

"Hey," you smile softly accepting her affection.

"You look amazing!" she pulls back from you, examining you head to toe. One thing you always loved about Sam; she never had a bad thing to say about you.

"So do you," you return the compliment.

"(Y/n)!" Miguel and Robby approach you both.

The last time you had seen the two boys, Miguel had just won the All Valley and Robby began training again with your dad.

"Hey, big brothers," you teased them, greeting both with a hug. When Sam had told you their parents were expecting together, you laughed at the irony of the whole situation.

"You look good," Robby commented his green eyes scanning over you.

"I said that!" Sam agreed giddly, elbowing him.

"What kind of workouts do they have you doing over there?" Miguel asked faking suspicion.

Rolling your eyes at their remarks, you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Where's your boyfriend? I wanna meet him!" Sam inquires exciting at meeting your first ever love interest.

"You have a boyfriend?" Robby reiterates.

"Don't sound so surprised," you respond sarcastically.

"No- I just mean you never showed interest in anyone back home, I thought you were a lone wolf kind of girl," he attempts to lighten the situation.

"Right," you said narrowing your eyes. Looking around for an auburn haired boy, you spot Axel standing along with Zara on the side.

He catches your eyes on him, making you wave him down. Zara follows along with him, wanting to meet your old team as well.

"Guys, this is my boyfriend Axel," you gesture to the tall Croatian boy next to you, "and this is my friend, well teammate, Zara."

"Hey," Miguel and Robby nod at your two teammates giving them a closed mouth smile.

"This is Sam, Miguel, and Robby," you introduce your home people to your new people.

"Hi," Zara says with a small grin, eyes never leaving Robby's making you chuckle.

"(Y/n)'s talked so much about you," Sam says to Axel. "I'm glad we could all finally meet."

"Yes, and especially before competition," Axel says smoothly making you shake your head.

"So who are your captains?" Zara spoke up wanting to get on the topic of the tournament.

"Robby and I are the captains," Sam smiles. You couldn't control the way your eyebrows lifted up in surprise, you really thought Miguel would be wearing the white headband.

"Don't look so surprised," Robby throws back at you playfully.

"What about you guys?" Miguels questions.

"Me and her," Axel smirks pulling you into him by your hip.

"Wow," your sister blinks, her voice slightly nervous. "That's great!"

"She earned it," Zara says a hint of smugness behind her voice. She wanted to make sure your old team knew they were in for a challenge.

Before anyone could say anything else, the teams are called forward so pictures can be taken.

—————————————————————————

The first day of the tournament was a breeze. For your team of course. This wasn't your first Sekai Taikai, you had gone with the Iron Dragons last year and won first place.

Miyagi-Do however, struggled.

You’d never forget the look of shock on their faces when it came down to The Iron Dragons and Cobra Kai during the 'Captain's War' event.

You and Axel made Kwon and Tory look defenseless by how fast you took them down together. From the way Sam had described you, Tory was expecting a petite off balance fighter when in reality you moved with grace and packed a punch with every hit.

When your eyes met your dad's you saw a look of fright. It almost made you upset, because if you won would he have the same look instead of being happy for you?

Looking down at an awe-struck Tory, you introduce yourself.

"Nice to officially meet you," you smirk down at her. "Welcome to Barcelona."

From the corner of your eye, you see Sam and Miguel share a look of concern with each other. They had no idea what they were in for.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Your team was dominating the tournament, The Iron Dragons had remained in 1st place through out the next few days. Luckily, you didn't match up with Miyagi-Do.

Until now.

It was the tag-team event, if they lost they would go against Cobra Kai who lost their 1st round.

"How are you feeling?" Axel questions you as the two of you warmed up together.

"Like I'm ready to kick ass," you respond confidently.

"That's my girl," he grins walking up to you. As the two of you share a sweet kiss, you suddenly hear someone coughing behind you.

Your dad stood behind you, a stern look on his face.

"Is this the Axel, you've been talking about?" Your dad approaches you slowly.

"In the flesh," you grin looking up at your tall beau. Axel stood wearily, unsure how to feel about meeting your dad.

He knew the issues you had developed from lack of attention from your dad, it made him just a little bitter inside because you were sweet like candy and tough as nails when it came to fighting, you should be the center of his universe.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Daniel LaRusso," your dad extends his hand for Axel. Your boyfriend takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

"Axel," he says shortly nodding his head. "Good to meet you."

"Thank you for taking care of my girl here," your dad runs a hand over the back of your head, smiling down at you.

"It is an honor," Axel states making you blush. "But if I am being honest, she takes care of me."

Before you, Axel didn't see a day of relaxation or know what the taste of your favorite ice cream was. He trained, went to school, slept, repeat.

You taught him the balance of life and karate. He had never known what it was to have fun and enjoy the small things in life before you came along.

He was forever grateful you were sent to him.

"Well, I just thought I'd come over here to meet your guy, and to wish you luck," your dad said turning to you.

"And to you," you wish him as well.

"Don't hold back on us out there," your dad jokes.

"We won't," you promise, a smile decorated on your face.

Your dad sends you the bow of respect to which you and Axel both reciprocate.

"Still feeling good?" Axel turns to you as you watch your dad walk over to your sister. They both glance your way making you grumble.

"Oh yeah," you nod feeling that fire light beneath your feet. "I'm ready."

Both teams lined up in the taped circle, the ref standing outside of it to watch for points.

Axel was first to stand in the ring, Hawk going up against him first. Hawk attacked first, Axel easily blocking his kicks and landing a point when he struck him behind his head.

"Shit," you hear Johnny mutter.

As you discussed, Axel tagged Zara in, leaving you last as the element of surprise.

Demetri was tagged next, making you scoff. Zara ate kids like him for lunch. She does it swiftly, and quickly, Demetri is taken by surprise by her aggressive approach, unable to block her punch to his chest.

As the skinny lanky boy tagged your sister in, Zara walked over to you slapping your hand.

"It's your time now," she says looking directly at you before stepping in your place next to Axel.

You're nervous, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat. You hadn't sparred with Sam in over seven years, much less fought.

"Aggressive, LaRusso!" Johnny yells, making your eyes narrow.

You could be aggressive too.

Sam comes at you, thinking you'd defend the way you were taught, but you block her kick with both arms and push back, making her stumble on to the ground.

She stares up at you wide eyed, and stands up before you can move towards her. This time you came at her. She blocked off your two kicks, but while her arms were up you took the opportunity to fall on one knee and kick her side earning your team the last and final point.

"Point! The Iron Dragons win 3 to 0!"

Your dojo surrounds you patting your back and chanting excitedly, Axel lifting you off the ground to twirl you around in his arms. Laughing, he sets you back down, a giant smile on your face at your victory.

"Congratulations," your dad's voice pops up from behind you.

You turn to face him, Sam standing by his side a look of uneasiness on her.

"Thanks," you respond unsure if you were allowed to spread your happiness about the face that you had won.

"You did great out there," Sam acknowledges, genuinely speaking. "You're gonna win this tournament."

"Think so?" You ask hope lingering in your voice.

"I know so," she confirms giving you a small smile. The both of you fall into step, wrapping each other up in a hug.

Regardless of how this ended, you knew Sam would always be in your corner.

Your sister walks away, leaving you and your dad alone.

"You've grown into such an amazing fighter, (Y/n)," your dad breathes out. "I can't even comprehend what I've seen from you these last few days. Mr. Miyagi would be proud."

Your mouth fell open at his words. To bring up his mentor and say that even his idol would approve of you? It hit home.

"Thank you, dad," you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes. "That means a lot."

"I was worried about you moving away from us, but I see how happy you are here, with them," your dad motions to the people behind you. "They really look out for you."

Twisting your head, you see Axel and Zara looking over at you making your smile fondly at your friend and boyfriend.

"Just don't forget about your other family, me, mom, Sam, and Anthony," your old sensei reminds you. "We'll be there when you're ready to come back to us."

You nod understanding that even though you may have felt left out for so long, you were still his daughter. He still worried about his 2nd born, that went across the world from him and thinks about you and your well being everyday.

You had the text and voicemails to prove it.

"I know, dad," you respond softly. He pulls you in his arms, hugging you tightly like the night before you left on the airplane that took you to Hong Kong.

"And this Axel kid better treat you right, or else," your dad warns you.

You laugh pulling away from him.

"He's a perfect gentlemen," you attempt to comfort your parent. "He also knows I can kick his ass if he isn't."

"That's definetly true," your dad chuckles.

After you and your dad say your goodbyes for the day, you head over to your boyfriend.

"Everything go okay?" Axel asks concerned they may have been upset of their loss.

"Better than okay," you assure your co-captain. He lets out a sigh of relief at your relaxed demeanor, letting him know you were fine.

You reached for his hands, intertwining your fingers together.

"Thank you for looking out for me," you say staring up at the blue eye boy adoringly. Axel can't help but step forward coming chest to chest with you.

"I will always do my best to look out for you," he states before leaning down to capture your lips with his.

Your heart melts in you chest at his words, the love continuing to grown for the man that held you high on his list of priorities.

-------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n: i hope this was okay, and that there was was enough axel x reader idk i don't feel this was my best. i have more request im working on, so more coming! i think i really wanted to dive deep into the reader!larusso part so i took my time in that department.)

(ps. sam better not get any hate on this post, she is my favorite character in the series, don't pmo.)

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about how eddie munson probably has a ridiculous collection of guitar picks. little jars of them. some collected at shows, some he picked up for a nickel at the only local music shop he's ever trusted to do work on his Sweetheart, some he was gifted for free at his local record shop that he's been frequenting for years now. the little old man running the record shop even gets excited when new vinyls are sent out with promotional merch, and he knows it's a band or musician eddie is into. probably even called eddie in at times and handed him a handful of metallica themed pics, hardly worth much, but solely because "i knew you like them and will find a good use for these, son".

my point is, he's got a pick for every occasion. shitty plastic thin ones for just fucking around with. thicker, nicer ones that might have been proper holiday gifts to him. the kind that are meant to hook on his fingers like rings (he tried using them a few times, especially for rifts, but ended up saying he played better when he felt the strings against his skin instead while picking away). novelty ones, ones that just looked plain cool. so on and so forth.

and he's got his collection just sitting in little jars across his room. he used to keep them in other things, like old ash trays or tin cans he'd cut and mold to be good containers. but then he started dating you, and you insisted on lending him any empty jars you weren't using. you had your own collections in yours: pretty stones found down by the creek, bottle caps of the sodas you and eddie get every time you stop at the gas station right on the edge of town by lover's lake - you even had one of every single crumpled up note eddie had ever given you over your time of dating. a few jars of those, actually. so what was lending him a few spares? at this point, the jars were a collection in themselves, and... well... it was prettier to see his vast collection in those glass jars anyways. being able to pick out the vibrant tones of the guitar pick you'd been with him as he'd purchased two weeks prior, or the pick from the show you'd gotten him tickets to last christmas. it was nice. a cute reminder of time spent, of what made eddie munson tick.

the important thing is, eddie munson isn't blind. he sees the way you look at that collection, especially after he fills the jars with it.

how some days, he'll be strumming away on his guitar, softly humming, and you'll just grab a jar to pick through. interrupting his nonsensical playing to ask him where he got one you didn't recognize, sometimes asking for the stories behind ones he knew you already knew. he'd caught on to the way you just liked hearing him talk, especially about the things he cared most about.

you also really, really liked the pick he wore as a necklace. it was probably your favorite in his collection, and you knew it was his favorite too. giving it as a gift to you was never an option, because it had been given as a gift to him originally by his mom.

so he does the next best thing.

he figures out your favorite pick in his collection. the one you always go back to, the one you ask for the story behind on a nearly weekly basis. one similar to the one always resting against his collarbones. pearly sheen, marbled tones, a slow indent the shape of his thumb being worn into the old tortoiseshell. it's a little less red, a little bit brighter, and he can't even strum it against his strings anymore without thinking of you. it's somehow become his lucky pick - the pick he cherishes most aside the one from his mom.

and the one he chooses to turn into a necklace, for you.

does it all himself. carefully piercing a hole through the top just like his own, picks out a nice chain that costs two paychecks of his, takes an old pocket knife to it and spends weeks carving your initials into the shiny material. he's gentle as hell with it, finishing it off with some gold paint to fill in the carving that matches the chain and swirling tones of the picks.

a week before christmas he nearly backs out of the gift idea, and almost begs wayne to help him go to the mall and pick out some other basic but safe gift for you. a perfume/cologne, a nice sweater, anything. wayne refuses to let him, and the only thing the gentle old man will offer is a nice box for eddie to place that necklace born of love into.

the look on your face on christmas morning, sitting in the center of the munson's living room, on the verge of happy tears as you lift the homemade necklace so gently, soothes away every single doubt ever had about it all.

and the look on wayne's face is a simple, caring, stern vision of i told you so.

[arc852]

Gifting Myself to You

Summary: Jimmy has been living in the walls of Tango and Skizz's restaurant for a few years now. It's been a little less than a year since he was discovered and since then, he's become friends with the two of them. And as friends, Tango and Skizz are constantly offering Jimmy to come and live with them. Up until now, Jimmy has said no.

But after a lot of thought and more time, he realizes he does want to live with them. And with Christmas coming up, he comes up with a special way to tell them.

Warnings: some anxiety

Word Count: 3467

AO3 Link

Merry (very early) Christmas everyone! I got this idea when a group of us in discord were talking about tinies being given as gifts or gifting themselves to humans. I went with the latter and now this exists! I hope you guys enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

 “Did you bring the stuff?” Jimmy asked as he hopped off of Scott’s hand and onto one of the many counters within the kitchen. He heard Scott scoff as Jimmy turned back around to face him and saw Scott pulling out a bin of supplies from underneath the counter. Jimmy figured he must have stored it there at some point after the two of them had made their plan.

 “Of course, you know I’m always prepared.” Scott answered and then started rummaging through the bin. “I wasn’t sure what kind of thing you were going for so I just brought a little of everything.” Scott explained.

 “Oh, uh, I just figured I would leave that to you.” Jimmy said with a slight laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I-I wouldn’t know what looks good or anything.”

 Scott hummed and thought for a moment. He looked Jimmy up and down and then started his rummaging back up. He pulled out a small box, well, relatively, it was still a lot bigger than Jimmy, and then the lid for said box. “I think this box is cute. And it’s small but big enough to fit you comfortably inside.” Scott explained. Jimmy went up to it and looked it over. The box was cute, with little snowmen and snowflakes dotted around.

 “I think it’s perfect!” Jimmy said with a grin and so Scott grabbed a pin and poked a few, needle sized holes in the box so they wouldn’t have to worry about Jimmy losing air. Not that he should be in there long enough for that to happen but it was better to be safe than sorry. Scott put the box back down when he was finished and then looked between the box and Jimmy.

 “It’s still missing something though…” Scott trailed off and then went back to the bin. Jimmy simply watched as Scott pulled out an icey blue ribbon. “Here we go. I can wrap this over the box once you're inside.” Scott said.

 Jimmy looked between the ribbon and the box. The two really did fit perfectly together and it would keep the box together without having to use tape or anything like that. Jimmy nodded. “Sounds good! Are we…ready to do this then?” Jimmy asked, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.

 Scott hummed, once again in thought. He looked between the ribbon and Jimmy and the smirk that started appearing on his face made Jimmy’s heart rate spike. “Actually,” Scott started. “I think we can take this a step further.”

 And that was how Jimmy ended up tied up in the blue ribbon.

 Jimmy pulled against his binds, frowning slightly as it gave no give. Scott had carefully tied the ribbon around his chest, wound it down his legs, and then went back up to wrap it a few more times around his waist before tying the last little bit into a bow that rested in front of his stomach. He also made sure his arms were pinned at his sides as he tied Jimmy up, making his arms just as trapped as the rest of him and basically leaving him motionless. “Was this really necessary?” Jimmy asked, looking up at Scott.

 “Of course! You look so cute all wrapped up with a little bow.” Scott said with a small laugh as he adjusted the bow on Jimmy’s front slightly. “If you're giving yourself as a gift, then you gotta look the part.”

 Jimmy grumbled a bit and pulled against his restraints one last time before sighing. “I guess you’re right…”

 “I always am.” Scott said with far too much confidence. At least in Jimmy’s opinion. “Trust me, Tango and Skizz are going to love it.”

 “I hope so.” Jimmy said, more to himself than anything. 

 “Are you ready to get in now?” Scott asked and Jimmy nodded. Scott scooped the borrower up and gently slid him off his hand and into the box. With Jimmy now sat within, Scott lifted up the lid with the intent to put it on.

 “Oh, wait!” Jimmy suddenly said and watched as Scott froze. Concern crossed Scott’s features as he met Jimmy’s eyes.

 “Yeah? Is everything okay?” Scott asked and Jimmy smiled a bit. Despite how Scott could be sometimes, he still cared. Jimmy of course knew this but sometimes the reminder was nice.

 “Yeah, sorry, I just…thank you Scott, for…for helping me with this.” Jimmy said, his tone a bit shy as he glanced away from Scott’s eyes. Scott blinked but then smiled at him fondly, letting out a little sigh.

 “You know I’m always happy to help when it comes to you.” Scott’s smile turned more into a smirk as he winked at Jimmy. Jimmy felt his cheeks warm a bit. “And I’d say this is a long time coming anyway.” Scott continued, before he finally placed the lid over the little box. Jimmy was washed in darkness, his only bit of light coming from the needle sized holes Scott had poked through the box earlier. 

 There was some shuffling as Jimmy assumed Scott was wrapping the blue ribbon around the box. “There we go. Alright, I’m heading back out there now.” As Scott said this, Jimmy felt his stomach somersault as he suddenly felt himself being lifted into the air. Jimmy settled in quickly though, doing his best to stay quiet as Scott started to walk out of the kitchen area and back toward the front and main eating area of the restaurant.

 He thought back to Scott’s words as he squirmed slightly against the ribbon, feeling the smooth and cool silk against his skin. This really was a long time coming. Tango and Skizz had been offering up their place to him for months now. Ever since they discovered Jimmy within the walls of their restaurant, they had offered for him to come and live with them.

 Jimmy had said no every time. He was fine at the restaurant, it was his home and had been for three years now. And…it was one thing to see Tango and Skizz for short amounts of time during a work day and another thing entirely to actually live with them. And, to be honest, the thought still made him nervous. But over time, the more Jimmy spent time with them, the more Jimmy began to like the idea of seeing Skizz and Tango all the time.

 He had only just made up his mind a couple of weeks ago. He had initially planned on telling them that day, but that night, Tango and Skizz had stayed late at the restaurant to hang out and they ended up watching a movie on Tango’s phone. His humans had called it a Hallmark movie, which was apparently a really cheesy Christmas romcom. It was a fine movie but it was one scene in particular that sparked an idea in Jimmy’s head.

 In one of the scenes, the man held out a closed box to the women. At first, Jimmy thought he was proposing. But then the women opened it and it wasn’t a ring but a key. The man’s gift to the woman was inviting her to move in with him.

 And that’s what gave Jimmy the idea to gift himself to Tango and Skizz, as a way to tell them yes, he wanted to move in with them. Essentially, he would be the key.

 …Okay, so it was a bit of a silly idea. But Jimmy was known for doing silly things anyway and so he still decided to go for it. Jimmy ended up going to Scott, a friend of his who he met through Tango and Skizz, to help him with his idea. He went to Scott above the others because, while Scott would still tease him about the idea, he knew Scott would also help him and find the importance in what Jimmy wanted to do.

 And so, at Tango and Skizz’s yearly Christmas party that they hosted for all their friends at their restaurant, Jimmy and Scott put Jimmy’s plan into action.

 And now Jimmy was here, wrapped up and about to give himself to his two friends as a way to say, hey! I do want to live with you guys!

 …He really hoped this turned out well.

 He tuned back into his surroundings as he heard Scott speak from above him. “Wrapping things up then?” Scott asked, his voice casual. Jimmy realized then that the once loud sounds of the party had quieted considerably.

 “Yeah, it’s getting pretty late. And I know we all still have to get ready for actual Christmas.” Tango chuckled.

 “You two need help cleaning up?” Scott asked and Jimmy thought back briefly to the mess the restaurant had been in before he had disappeared with Scott. It would definitely take a while to clean up.

 “Nah.” Skizz’s voice chimed in. “We were just gonna leave it for tonight. We’re closed for the holiday’s anyway, so no reason to get things in shape yet. But we appreciate it!” Jimmy could just see the big grin on Skizz’s face and even the mental image of it made Jimmy smile too.

 “If you say so.” Scott chuckled and then Jimmy felt the box rattle a little more as he assumed Scott brought the box forward. “By the way, Jimmy wanted me to give you this.”

 “Oh?” Tango said, perking up. Jimmy felt the box switch hands. “A present from Jimmy?” He sounded excited.

 “A present from Jiggles!?” Skizz exclaimed with even more excitement.

 “Yep. I helped him out with it. But he said he wanted you two to wait until you got home to open it.” Scott said, telling them what Jimmy wanted him to. He wanted this to be a private moment between the three of them and so having them open him at home was the best way to do that. Besides, he thought it would have more meaning if they opened him in the place he would soon be living in.

 “Speaking of, have you seen Jimmy? He seems to have disappeared and we wanted to say goodbye before we headed out.” Tango asked, pulling the box closer to him as he did so. Jimmy only knew this from the sudden fluid motion and the now faint heartbeat he could just barely make out through the cardboard.

 “Actually, I think he went to bed already. Said he was really tired from all the excitement.” The other reason Jimmy got Scott’s help was because of how good of an actor he was. He lied to Tango and Skizz like it was nothing.

 “Aww man.” Skizz said with a pout. “I guess that’s fair though. This party probably had more humans than he’s ever dealt with at once.”

 “I guess we’ll just have to talk to him tomorrow.” Tango said, though he too sounded disappointed. Jimmy bit his lip, feeling a bit guilty about having Scott lie to them. But hopefully it would be worth it for the surprise.

 “Well, I’m heading out. It was a great time!” Scott said, his voice getting a bit fainter, more far away as Jimmy assumed he was walking toward the door.

 “See ya Scotty!” Skizz shouted.

 “And make sure you’re careful with that present! It’s fragile!” Scott yelled back one more time before Jimmy heard the familiar bell of the door open and soon close behind him.

 Jimmy continued to simply sit and listen as the rest of their friends left, the restaurant getting quieter and quieter until it was just Tango and Skizz (and Jimmy) left. “I guess it’s about time we headed out too.” Skizz said and Jimmy heard some shifting of items. Skizz must have just been doing a quick clean.

 “Yep, time to close up shop.” Tango said, despite their ‘shop’ being closed for most of the day already. Though at this point Jimmy knew it was more of a human expression than actually what Tango meant.

 As they started to move, so did the box, swaying him gently. As they entered outside, even from within the box, Jimmy could feel the cool night air nip at his skin. The ribbon, though covering a lot of him, still did little to keep out the cold. 

 Thankfully, they weren’t out in the cold for long. Jimmy soon heard the signs of a door opening and felt some rough movement that was quickly followed by Skizz’s voice. “Hey, careful! Scott said it was fragile, remember?” Neither of them had even been that rough but it was sweet that they cared so much about a gift he had given them. And that was without them knowing he was the one in there.

 “Right, sorry.” The slight tilt of the box was fixed and then the engine of the car roared to life. Jimmy jumped, surprised by the sudden noise. He had never been in a car before though he should have expected it to be loud.

 It got even louder as the music was turned on and Skizz started singing loudly to it, Tango jumping in shortly after some coaxing from Skizz. It was loud but Jimmy also couldn’t help but enjoy it. They sounded like they were having fun, singing and laughing. It was not unlike what he had seen while in the restaurant but here, right now, they seemed so much more…relaxed. Jimmy had only seen them like this a few times before. It was nice. He was excited to be able to see it all the time.

 The car ride wasn’t long. Tango and Skizz always told him they only lived about 20 minutes from the restaurant. So, before Jimmy knew it, the engine cut, the music turned off and the box he was in started to move again as both humans got out of the car. Jimmy pushed against his bindings slightly, his muscles starting to ache just a bit from his stiff position. Why had he let Scott tie him up again?

 Well, it didn’t matter too much now. Tango and Skizz would be opening the gift any moment now and he would be free soon enough.

 His heart pounded at the thought that after months of being asked, of weeks planning this whole thing to tell him he accepted, that this was finally happening.

 He was starting to second guess himself now, just a little bit. As Tango and Skizz entered their home, talking above him, Jimmy hoped this wasn’t the wrong way to go about this. Scott had liked the idea but would Tango and Skizz? He took a deep breath. He needed to calm down, there was no backing out of this now anyway.

 “Should we open up Jimmy’s present now?” Tango asked after a moment of hanging up their coats and toeing off their shoes. Tango’s tone was filled with barely contained excitement that had Jimmy’s heart racing.

 “Absolutely!” Skizz all but shouted, sounding just as excited as Tango and even more so than he had back at the restaurant. He could feel them walk a bit more before settling down again. Jimmy could only assume they were both sitting on a couch or something similar. “I can’t wait to see what Jiggles got us. What do you think it is?” Skizz asked after a moment and Jimmy could just picture the big grin on his face.

 “Not sure. Scott said he helped him out with it so the possibilities are all over the place.” Tango answered in reply and then Jimmy’s stomach did a little flip as the box was suddenly lifted up higher. “Thankfully, we don’t have to guess, cause we can open it right now.” Tango said with a laugh.

 “Right, let’s not waste anymore time!” Skizz exclaimed and with the brief silence that followed, Jimmy could just picture them untying the ribbon that wound around the box. Even if there was no audible indication that they were doing so. And then, the moment of truth, the lid of the box was carefully lifted off, drowning Jimmy in light as he suddenly found himself staring up at Tango and Skizz.

 Both humans’ eyes went wide as they saw Jimmy, Skizz’s mouth even fell open in shock. Jimmy cleared his throat, feeling his nerves spike. “Um, surprise?” Jimmy said, a little less enthusiastically than what he had initially planned but he was also a lot more nervous than he had been expecting.

 “Wha-Jimmy?” Tango said, leaning in just a bit more to get a better look at Jimmy within the box. “What are you doing in there?”

 “And why are you all tied up?” Skizz chimed in, shock and confusion overlapping each other as he leaned in on Jimmy’s other side, since Tango was the one holding the box.

 “Well, uh, Scott thought tying me up would make me more…present like.” Jimmy answered, a slight flush on his face. “It’s uh, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable though.”

 “Aww, well come here, let's get you untangled.” Skizz said before scooping Jimmy out of the box, shifting him to one hand as he started to untie the ribbon wrapped around Jimmy’s body. He pulled at one of the loose pieces on the bow and from there it seemed easy for Skizz to unwrap the rest of the ribbon. Jimmy shivered slightly at Skizz’s touch but he was mostly still.

 Tango put the box down onto the coffee table and leaned in close, watching. His brow furrowed but his features no less fond. “That still doesn’t explain what you were doing in there though.” Tango spoke up after a moment, just as Skizz pulled the rest of the ribbon off of Jimmy and placed it back in the box. Jimmy stretched his limbs and then turned to face Tango. He flushed and then quickly turned away, fidgeting with his hands as he looked down at them.

 “Well…remember how you've been asking me to move in with you guys?” Jimmy asked.

 “Yeah, but we understand why you’ve said no.” Skizz said, reassuring Jimmy of his previous responses.

 “We don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to.” Tango chimed in as well. Jimmy glanced up at the two of them, a small smile forming on his face. And that was exactly why he felt ready now to live with them. They had proven time and time again that they cared about him and they never treated him like any less of a person just because of his size. Even now they were reassuring him that he was in charge of himself and that they understood why Jimmy had said no to them in the past. And they had always respected his decision too. Never doing more than putting the offer back on the table every once in a while.

 They really were the best.

 He took a deep breath.

 “I know, and I really appreciate that.” Jimmy looked up at the two humans fully. “But this whole thing is…me gifting myself to you guys. As a way to say that I want to live with you two and be a full part of your lives.” There, it was out in the open now. Jimmy felt his heart flutter with nerves but they were quickly reassured as two giant grins formed on Skizz and Tango’s faces.

 “Really?” Tango said, his tone full of barely contained excitement. Jimmy could practically see him trying his hardest not to bounce up and down from it.

 “Yes!” Skizz exclaimed, not trying as hard to subdue his reaction. “Oh Jimmy, dude, we are going to have a blast with you living here.” Skizz said, his grin big. Jimmy couldn’t help but match it.

 “I’m excited for it.” Jimmy said, looking at his two humans fondly. “Thank you for offering.”

 “Thank you for accepting.” Tango said and then gently scooped him up off of Skizz’s hands so he could hold him close. “I think I speak for both Skizz and I when I say this is the best present we’ve ever gotten.”

 “Oh, by a mile!” Skizz responded with a laugh.

 Jimmy smiled fondly at the two as they started talking about setting up a space for Jimmy and what kind of stuff they could plan for their first Christmas all together. As they talked, Tango continued to hold Jimmy up against his chest, his thumb subconsciously rubbing at his back. Jimmy sighed in relief as he leaned into the touch, wondering how he had ever been worried about what the outcome of this would be. Of course they would be happy, they were amazing.

 As their voices washed over him, excited and coming up with idea after idea on how to include Jimmy in their lives, Jimmy knew he had made the right choice.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)

i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.

and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).

so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.

so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.

I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).

So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".

But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.

[jakekazansky]

More thoughts for my juvenile delinquent turned fighter pilot Jake au

Previous post

Jake finishes high school in juvie at 16 cause he was bored and getting his GED was easy

He’s 17 when he starts at the academy cause that sounded better than sitting around juvie for a year til he turned 18

Due to his history and being 17, Jake is assigned to an admiral to go stay with on breaks and check in with since they couldn’t put an ankle monitor on him

The admiral is Sam “Merlin” Wells who over time becomes like a dad to Jake along with his husband slider

Jake isn’t allowed to drive until he’s 18 cause they think he might try to run if given the chance

Before stealing that high performance car at 16, Jake hid his own car at a friends uncles junk yard and paid him all the cash he had and promised to pay him another significant sum of money when he comes back to get the car

The car is a skyline (like Brian drives in fast and furious)

Jake goes to pick it up when he’s 26 (in this au police can no longer search a vehicle after 10 years after a crime is committed (so if he committed the crime in March 14, 2006 he would have to wait til March 15, 2016 to be able to drive the car again without the police being able to search it for evidence) (no clue if this is how crimes and evidence works irl but it’s how it works in my au

So in my mind the ship for this is Beau/Jake cause I imagine Beau being a car guy

They meet at a car meet when Jake is in flight school (Jake is like 21-22)

They end up getting married 3 weeks after meeting (neither knows the other is in the navy but they told each other they both travel frequently for work)

They only find out cause beau is in charge of all the squadrons on the ship doing carrier training and Jake is on that carrier doing carrier training after flight school

Javy and warlock were both at the courthouse as witnesses when Beau and Jake get married

So the big crime that Jake actually does to get arrested at 16 is to steal a prototype car from an event where he pretended to be a valet

What attracts the navy to Jake, is that during the chase Jake uses a homemade EMP device to disable police vehicles en mass which has never been done before as the ones at that time required you to basically ‘lock on’ to another vehicle and could only be used on one vehicle

Essentially, the military want Jake to teach them how to replicate the one he used since Jake destroyed the one he used during the police chase

Jake would roll up to dagger family dinner (mav has the daggers over for dinner every other week or more, sometimes ice is there sometimes he isn’t) with his skyline once he could drive it again, running late

Mav doesn’t allow phones at dinner cause it’s “family time” which is fine by Jake but Jake makes a comment about ‘ how being phone free means his husband can’t bitch about Jake spending $$$$ on new tires’

Ice getting home and laughing cause the neighbors are bitching about Jake’s car cause it’s old and is bringing down their property value

This is the first day Jake is driving his skyline again after getting it back

No one knows about Jake’s history at this point, not even Javy, he just thinks Jake is super in to cars

Thinking about having it be a slight crosser with fast and furious where Brian and Jake are friends but idk for certain yet

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

reader working as a part of the crew and her and IV thinking they are sneaky with their "hidden" relationship by sneaking around each other before and after the shows with kisses and stuff but in end everyone already knows and just makes them think they are doing a good job. I just need Ivy fluff 🥺

Not a secret

It wasn’t that you had a genuine reason to sneak around. There were no rules that band team members to mingle with each other. It just… it all felt so new. Too new. And being in that little bubble felt more secure even if you wanted to scream all about it. You were just finishing sorting out iii’s gear when you felt two arms sneaking around your middle.

“Hey”, Ivy muttered, pulling you closer into his chest. His lips leaving soft kisses against your neck. “Hi”, you mused back, letting your body melt against his. His fingers softly turned your head as he pressed his lips against yours. “Ivy”, you muttered in warning, pulling back.

“Quick one”, he whispered, leaning in once again. “Hands off”, you tapped your palm against his chest, stepping away from him only for Ivy to grab your hips as he pulled you closer to him, caging you against the wall. “You like it”, he smirked, letting his fingers trace your jaw. “Yes, but not here”, you pointed out, letting yourself glance around the corridor.

“You didn’t come to see me all day”, Ivy shook his head. And you haven’t. The preparation for the concert tonight had been chaotic, to say the least. You had felt your phone vibrating in your backpack but you simply haven’t had the time to check it. “I had to help out iii”, you shrugged, letting your arms fall over Ivy’s shoulders. “Don’t like the sound of that”, he shook his head, “will have Billy switching with you”. You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Cause that’s not sus at all”. Ivy shrugged, “No just a switch to test your strength”. “Mhm…”, you hummed shaking your head.

“You smell so nice”, Ivy muttered again your shoulders, “Ivy…”, you warned him once more yet your fingers moved to run over his neck, softly scratching his skin. “Let me breathe you in”, he grumbled, going all dog sniffing mode similar to what Cinnamon his lab did every time you came back home. “You’re insane”, you giggled, “You better be sleeping in my bed tonight”, he muttered looking back up at you. “You know that I'm sharing with the girls it would be so weird”, you shook your head. “I can’t sleep when you’re not in my arms”, he whined, snuggling up against your shoulder.

“I can…”, but you didn’t get to finish as the sound of the side door opening filled the hallway. You quickly ducked behind the boxes, Ivy leaning against the crates as if he was just randomly chilling in the middle of the hallway. “Another sound check in 10, man”, ii walked straight past, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, on my way now”, Ivy cleared his throat. “Hair is a bit messy”, iii pulled at Iv’s hair. “Yn, you could do better than that, love”, your body froze as you watched him slowly leaning over the box. II’s laughter filled the hallway. Iii slowly waved at you before tapping iv on his chest and walking away. “The fuck just happened”, you whispered. “I think they know”, iv muttered, sinking to sit beside you. “But we were so…”, the sound of more footsteps made you both fall silent again. “Hey, lovebirds”, Vessel shot you both a wink as he walked past. “Yeah, they know…”, you sighed. “So you are sleeping in my bed tonight right?”, Ivy asked, making you shove at his shoulder lightly.

[ghostgirl-22]

a mistletoe artrick story? 👀

Thanks so much for the prompt my lovely 💜 This ended up being completely SFW so I’m either very sorry or you’re welcome. Either way I hope you like it <3

—-

It happened once last year at the winter formal. Patrick won prince or king or something like that so he already had a lot of attention on him which meant people were watching when he pulled Art to the side to ask about something… Art barely remembers what it was. What he remembers is that they ended up under the mistletoe.

“Guess what? Now you have to kiss.” Someone shouts followed by a lot of laughter and chatting.

Art isn’t used to being the center of attention and as embarrassed as he is there is a small, small distant part of him that likes it. Still he doesn’t want this kind of attention. He wasn’t even going to do it but someone said it’d be bad luck not to. Come to think of it that someone was probably Patrick.

Art doesn’t need anymore bad luck. So he lets Patrick pull him closer, wearing one of his goofy grins.

“It’s the kiss you’ve all been waiting for,” Patrick announces to their classmates. Most people are laughing but some are actually cheering. Patrick’s girlfriend Madison rolls her eyes but she’s smiling.

It’s theatrical, Art knows that. And Patrick knows how to put on a show. Still, Art shivers a little as their lips touch. It’s probably nothing. Patrick has soft lips. But it’s nothing. Everyone laughs it off makes the obligatory vaguely homophobic jokes and they continue to dance all night.

None of that’s the weird part actually. What’s weird is what happens the next month. Patrick does well on an exam he was dreading. “I got a B+” he exclaims and he kisses Art straight on the lips.

Art rubs his mouth idly but Patrick looks like he’s already forgotten about it and he runs to call his mom. So Art forgets about it too.

And then in February. Valentine’s Day, actually. Art got a bunch of Hershey’s kisses from his new girlfriend Christina. Patrick sneaks one off his desk and later says, “I guess I owe you.” And he cradles Art’s head and plants a kiss right on his mouth. He grins after as Art stares at him dumbfounded and shrugs. “Kiss for a kiss.” And without another word he leaves to go wash up for his date with Madison.

It gets to be normal after that. Their first doubles win of the tennis season. Patrick kissing him right on the court. Just so quick you wouldn’t think twice about it. But Art can’t stop thinking about it.

He gets a kiss on his birthday. Twelve midnight Patrick crawls into his bed while they’re finishing homework.

When he gets his acceptance letter from Stanford. “I don’t think you should go but good job.”

When Christina breaks up with him for Tim Lyons because “he’s just a better player.” Patrick’s making a face, “Tim? Really?”

On the Fourth of July. Hidden away in the boat house on Patrick’s family’s estate.

And the kisses are changing too. Sometimes it’s short and sweet. Other times it’s slow and intimate. Sometimes Art thinks he might have feelings all tied up in this.

They kiss like that, in front of Tashi Duncan. Just the most beautiful girl Art’s ever seen. She seems to be into it— the kissing. And poor Madison is history after that.

He hates Patrick a little bit after the junior US Open final. But that doesn’t keep him from letting Patrick kiss him something quick before they go out to search for beer.

By September they’re kissing in Arts bed just because it’s Tuesday.

On Halloween Art can’t recall what it was like before the kissing became normal. Patrick visiting Tashi at Stanford but staying in Arts room and before they all go to some dumb Halloween Party. Patrick kisses him. They meet Tashi for drinks and he kisses her.

Art’s in this weird place where he doesn’t really know who he’s more jealous of.

It’s December when they go out to eat at some themed restaurant to celebrate the end of their first semester. Patrick’s ordering drinks with his fake ID. Art leans next to him on the bar. Tashi taps his shoulder and points up at the feature where wineglasses are hanging and she’s smirking at the mistletoe draped just above them. “Guess that means you two have to kiss right?” She says.

Patrick grins at Art and Art feels his skin heating up. It’s some kind of kismet obviously.

“Oh come on,” Tashi teases, gently rubbing Art’s shoulder. “It’s not that big of a deal. Cause I know for a fact you’ve done it before.”

[ro-bee]

Hi!

Could maybe say something more about your Goat Realm?

What is story of Puppy narinder here?

What heretics look like here and how are they behaviour? (I'm curious about it because I love these beans. I'm all ears to any littlest detail)

How other bishops look like?

And anyway anything. I'm all ears to all ramble!

Drink your water!

HELLOOO

It is time for the goatverse yap section ! Everybody cheers!!

Anyway little disclaimers :

1_ is very work in progress... Unfortunately all my focus is on those two gay furries and not much on the world so I don't have many drawings to show :(

2_ it's heavy... And I mean there are strong themes and stuff (I'm not gonna go in details here) ... You'll see it better when I finish one of my many projects but it will require a lot of time... Like a lot, sorry... Anyway :)

Goat's world is very harsh. Here we live by the philosophy of kill or be killed very often, despite that there are some people that manage to live in piece and tranquility (example: goat's family and people that don't venerate any specific bishops or that venerate Kiran)

The world is ruled by the 5 bishops (these design are still concepts expect our beloved wolf lol)

Four of them command on different regions, Kiran being the god of death rules the purgatory

He doesn't have many followers like his siblings but he prefers it like that, it doesn't really matter to him because people souls would end up to him anyway.

His siblings have more of an evil alineament, they use their godhood for bad often, taking entertainment on their followers pain. Kiran is the opposite and witnessing his followers suffering fills him with sorrow, that's why he always gives his followers a painless death, is the last he can do for them... After all their souls gives him power :)

Anyway I think I already explained kiran's plan here , tldr bro is sad people suffer so he thinks that killing everything is a good solution

A little thing I want to add to kiran's backstory thing (idk):

I think that unfortunately we're not gonna have a ratau in this world, since Kiran's objective is to get rid of pain with putting everyone's soul to rest I think he won't let any previous vessel go away after failing (I'm not doing this because I hate ratau, he's my dad I love him so much)

So goat had no guide in what they were doing

Heretics here are just like regular heretics(?), if you wanted to know more about their design unfortunately I don't have anything with them :( I have some sketches in the comic I'm working on but I need to keep it as a surprise

Most of them are just regular people that want to survive...

Talking about people who want to survive:

Goat wasn't always this fucked up in the head, this whole deal changed them for the worst. Before the crown they lived a normal peaceful life with their family, when they lost everything they were forced to learn how to fight back to survive. So they spent many years running away and fighting back, they felt terrible at first but then it started to feel normal, almost enjoyable. Getting the crowns powers made killing people fun for them so yeah lol this is the evolution of goat going from calm Lyra player to killer machine, they have a loooooot of anger issues lol.

About the bishops... I'm currently drawing them better and they still have no name right now...

Their personality is the opposite of the canon one basically

The leshy is calm less impulsive

The geko is a prudent and a bit coward

The kraken is fearless and violent

The scorpion is ruthless and impulsive

Kiran is their older brother and loves them very much!! the feeling is not very mutual but anyway :)

I need to work a little bit more on them ngl

Aaaand I think this is all? Hmm idk feel free to ask more :)