#that which i completely refused to do on pearl

[skyriderwednesday]

(Wip) I have no idea why D&D sessions have this effect on me, but... the majority of a Rusty.

[strangerxperv]

hiiii id like to request a robin buckley x reader smut, maybe one where robin’s this desperate loser lesbian archetype and she has a huge crush on reader, reader ends up letting robin fuck her however she wants. sorry if this isn’t how you’re supposed to request, i couldn’t find a request button!! thank you!! :)

A request I've been sitting on

Robin Buckley x popular Reader

Minors fuck off

NSFW

word count: 1K

You're popular, like truly popular and friendly with literally everyone. Friends with jocks, nerds, druggies, outcasts, and other popular people (just as a few examples). Being a class clown with charisma sprouting like flowers in spring has its perks.

It's the reason Robin has such a crush on you and can't help but follow after you. You're both besties! The kind where one jokes about fucking the other and that friend desperately wants it to be a reality. She wants to see how pretty your clit is and how good you taste.

Robin's seen you naked thanks to gym class and the occasional slumber parties. She knows what color your nipples are and how much hair is on your pelvis. The way your ass jiggles when you pull up your panties.

Robin knows what your favorite panties and bras are, it's memorized, she even knows your sizes. Hell! You've even posed while wearing lingerie to get Robin's friendly opinion.

What she doesn't know is that you've figured her out, her little secret. You still remember the first time Robin saw you completely nude. You thought she broke her jaw from how hard her jaw hit the floor.

The way she looked you up and down. Blue eyes lingering on your tits and sliding down to your pussy, seemingly stuck. Robin's eyes widen when she sees that you're wet, slick shining.

You pieced it all together after that and loved to make her squirm. Flirting with the brunette was your favorite pass time and left you more than wet. You wanted to see how long it would take her to notice that you knew. You wondered how long it would take for her to snap, what will she do?

Which leads you to now, with your legs spread wide and cunt glistening in front of your best friend, "Is my ex right? Does it look gross?"

Her blue eyes are eclipsed with black that snap up to your face before taking in your entirety. "He's an idiot. If I were a guy I'd be hard as hell."

"You aren't hard? Clits get hard but you said you aren't, so it's not pretty?"

Robin's face reddens and she licks her lips before speaking, "No, I'm definitely hard. It's so fucking hot. Like, seriously hot." Her trembling words encourage your hand to slide down. Gently you spread your cunt open to show your twitching clit and sopping hole. "Whoa."

Her whisper buffs onto your slit and lads on your pearl forcing more slick onto the bed. "Well, I don't know that for sure." You pause, "Can I see?" Her head snaps up at you so fast you worry for her neck and if it might hurt later.

"Y-you want to see, you want to see my...down there?" Robin's face couldn't possibly get any more red and she holds her breath.

"Well...we are both girls so it's not a big deal plus we're both besties! And, to be fair, you've seen me." Still your legs are spread while you keep your lips open. "Would it help if I took everything off?"

With that you remove your hand and whip the shirt over your head. Making fast work of your bra to toss onto the floor. Your tits bounce with the movement leaving you completely nude. "Does this help? Can I see if you're hard?"

At this point you could ask Robin to murder someone and she'd agree. How could she refuse her crush? Especially when she's completely naked on her bed with spread legs.

Robin stands silently and fumbles with the button on her jeans then struggles to pull the zipper down. Shucking them down quickly to kick it aside before yanking her panties off and kicking them aside too. Robin climbs onto the bed and spreads her own tan legs.

You close your thighs and sit up onto your knees crawling to her. In a few short moments you're between her legs. Your hand slides up the bed to below Robin and up the inside of her thigh, it's slick. "I can't see." Comes your breathy explanation as you gently spread her open.

Her clit is a pretty pink color and standing at attention, stiff, and it calls to you. Blowing purposefully onto the shiny pearl makes it twitch desperately. Robin let's out a surprised gaspy moan with her head thrown back.

"You really are hard for me. Does that mean you wanna fuck me? When boys are hard that means they do." You want her to say it. Say that she needs you as much as she needs you.

"Mmm..." Her blue eyes lock with your own pretty eyes, "I want to...I-I do." It's not that Robin is unsure of her feelings but she is afraid.

"Why? Do you like me like a boy does?"

"Please, please don't be mad." There's tears in her blue eyes as she begins to close her legs.

But before she can you're between them pressed against her. Your lips are on her own in a gentle embrace that makes her gasp. Your slick tongue flicks her lower lip announcing it's presence. Slithering into Robin's mouth the wet appendage tangles with her own.

"I could never hate you Robin. Not for this. I know how you feel and I obviously feel the same. Never, never question this." You lay one more quick kiss onto her plump lips, "Since you've liked me longer I think you should fuck me first, however you want me."

Those words seem to spur her forward as she flips you onto your back, "You've known the entire time. You little fucking tease! Do you know how many panties you've ruined and how many nights I had to feel guilty? Cumming to you was the best and worst thing up to this point." She bites your neck until you're crying out her name, "Tonight you're gonna make it all better cause I'm gonna punish you till I feel better."

[nyoomerr]

wowwow drabble requests! if you've got time, it'd be fun to see some of binggeyuan daily life where sy realizes that bingge DEFINITELY knows how to do/can easily learn (insert mundane modern-day life skill) but he's playing it up and asking sy to teach him in order to babygirlify himself HAHA

once bingge accidentally stumbles on the benefits of being a pathetic soggy dog for his yuan-ge, he can't help but try and replicate the effect!!

---

Things have been… weird, recently, when it comes to Luo Binghe.

Not that there’s necessarily a ‘normal’ when it comes to demonic ex-emperors living in modern China, but before, it was at least an expected weird. A constant low-lying fear for his life, sort of weird. A constant, less subtle fear for his pride because Luo Binghe is living in his messy apartment, sort of weird.

But then - 

Listen, Shen Yuan really hadn’t meant to change things to this degree, okay! It had been completely accidental! If he knew Luo Binghe would start acting like this, he wouldn’t have - he wouldn’t have…

…No, he definitely would have. 

Faced with Luo Binghe’s face, damp from tears that he couldn’t swipe away fast enough and blotchy and red and ugly from the embarrassment - 

Faced with the small, panicked hitches of Luo Binghe’s breath, and the way his mouth had fallen slightly open to try and breath through the tears - 

Faced with the way Luo Binghe’s eyelashes had matted together and his lips had shone from the way he had nervously wet them with a perfectly pink tongue, and the way his skin had smelled like salt and fear and - 

Shen Yuan has to very forcibly dismiss the thought. He frequently has to dismiss the memory of Luo Binghe crying, the smell and feel and look of it burned into Shen Yuan’s very core and yet wildly distracting. 

And… other feelings. Other feelings that had led to that first time, where Luo Binghe had cried and Shen Yuan had stared at him, enraptured, until he’d done something utterly foolish that ended up turning Luo Binghe weird!

“Yuan-ge,” Luo Binghe whines. Shen Yuan steadfastly does not look at him. “Yuan-ge, I don’t know how to do this…”

If Shen Yuan doesn’t acknowledge it, it isn’t happening! Luo Binghe will not be so - so -!

“...Yuan-ge, I really don’t know…” Luo Binghe sniffles.

Fuck!! Shen Yuan thinks. I’ve done this!! I’ve turned him weird!! I’ve turned him - pathetic!!!

“It’s the dishwasher,” Shen Yuan grits out, still refusing to look. “You have definitely used the dishwasher before.”

“No,” Luo Binghe lies, “I’ve been washing things by hand because I didn’t trust your machine to get it right.”

“Then wash it by hand this time too,” Shen Yuan says mercilessly.

“...I cut my hand making dinner earlier, so the dish soap would sting.”

Shen Yuan turns to look at Luo Binghe, confused. “What? Can’t you just heal it -”

There’s a moment that seems to happen in slow motion: Shen Yuan catches Luo Binghe’s eyes, and they look very, very satisfied, in the dangerous way that a manipulative little bitch looks before getting you exactly where they want you. 

Caught you, that expression says.

And then Luo Binghe’s expression morphs into one that actually matches the whiney tone he’d been using, his eyes going wet and shiny and his lips pursing in a devastating pout. Shen Yuan… really never should have looked, no matter what lines Luo Binghe threw out!!

“Yuan-ge, come show me?” Luo Binghe simpers. 

Shen Yuan tries to look away. His gaze catches on the way Luo Binghe’s face is starting to turn a ruddy pink, and the perfect pearl of liquid pooling in the corner of one of his eyes. He fails to look away.

Still, he valiantly tries to resist. “...Just press the button, Binghe.”

“Which button? There’s - there’s so many, Yuan-ge…”

Shen Yuan swallows thickly. His mind is replaying the sound of Luo Binghe’s voice cracking over and over and over.

“The - the one that says ‘start,’ obviously, stop asking questions you already know the answer to -”

Luo Binghe sniffles. It’s an ugly wet snotty sound, and Shen Yuan should be grossed out by it and should be able to look away. 

Shen Yuan’s eyes follow the movement of a tear falling in a sad wet line down Luo Binghe’s cheeks instead, enraptured. 

Still, he manages to stay right where he is, not coming a step closer to Luo Binghe where he stands by the dishwasher. It’s a little late to fix this weirdness from Luo Binghe entirely, but - maybe it can be mitigated if Shen Yuan stops feeding into it!

There’s a moment of silence, the two of them only staring at each other. 

Then - Luo Binghe’s expression doesn’t change entirely, but there’s suddenly an edge to it that wasn’t there before. It doesn’t quite suit the pathetic, wet look he’d clearly been leaning into a moment prior, but - 

Shen Yuan swallows again uselessly. It suits Luo Binghe very, very well, looking clever and manipulative even as he cries.

“If I ask the question I really want to know the answer to, then,” Luo Binghe says slowly, sniffling for dramatic effect, “will you promise to answer it?”

Shen Yuan definitely should not agree. 

“Okay,” he agrees weakly.

“Then: how much more do I have to cry before Yuan-ge decides to top again tonight?” Luo Binghe asks sweetly, even as another tear slides down his face.

…Ah, fuck, Shen Yuan really went and messed up a perfectly good stallion protagonist!! 

[totallynotsloughjykk]

okay rant because I need to hhhhh I'm so tired of people misinterpreting mu qing. no he is not a heartless monster nor is he a tsundere baby. he's a complex character and people need to stop dumbing him down to either good/bad mu qing values logic before anything. he thinks everything through too much and only considers feelings after, which makes him come off as unempathetic and uncaring. that's his main flaw. he cannot deal with any emotions and hides behind an indifferent/arrogant mask despite it being far from his actual self. his avoidance with vulnerability is understandable considering just how much he had to watch himself during his teenhood and probably even childhood he's hypervigilant and gets defensive the second he feels any form of attack coming towards him. for example, him freaking out over the red coral pearl going missing during the xianle era - which, again, is understandable since that would've ruined his reputation completely. he's also terrible with showing affection and care and that's another reason why he always come off as so mean and rude mu qing is also deeply insecure; he suddenly turned his attention to hong'er after xie lian praised his skill with a saber and he found reasons to kick him out fast (I'll get onto this later). he jumps any time he's handed a broom and he's also pretty easily envious. he doesn't usually go far beyond petty words and punches - like xie lian said, he's spiteful enough to spit in someone's cup, not poison it his flaws are well thought-out and make a lot of sense for his character. you can trace his behavior patterns back to his past; for example, his hypervigilance and arrogant mask comes the fact that everyone always expected the worst of him. the second he was even suspected to be in the wrong everyone turned on him without a doubt, so he grew wary of what he did and what he said. and for the arrogant mask, he couldn't prove otherwise at all - who would listen? no one. so he just gave up and got used to it mu qing has his flaws but he also has his qualities; he's a kind person beneath everything, shockingly enough. he handed poor children cherries after he was beaten up for picking them, he brought feng xin and xie lian rice and medicine after he left, he helped jian lan give birth, he disguised himself to help xie lian and he took a whole cursed shackle for refusing to hurt him. he can only show affection through actions and it's still uncomfortable for his deeds to be recognized since he's already so used to the selfish, cold and indifferent tag everyone slapped on him so he never expects any gratitude or anything in return at all also controversial take but hua cheng was wrong to hold a grudge against mu qing and feng xin. first of all, the feng xin grudge was entirely unnecessary (for mu qing it's a lot more understandable) but that's for another rant. second of all, while it is, again, understandable from hua cheng's POV, from an outside perspective it's just.. wrong. hua cheng will go towards extreme lengths to anyone who even mildly hurts off xie lian, and that's one of his flaws as a character. I love hua cheng deeply and that's part of what makes him beautifully complex. he's overprotective after seeing his beloved hurt so many times by so many people while he couldn't do much about it. he views xie lian through rose-colored lenses and I doubt he'll let go of the way he sees mu qing any time soon considering just how heavy of a grudge he held and how complicated their friendship/relationship in general is. they don't get along and until they formally talk things out, give them 200 years to warm up to each other they'd still probably stab each other if left unattended

[ask-the-pioneer]

"Yes, I am now heading towards Five Pebbles, the local iterator. I find it funny how I was born and spent my first cycles in the shadow of his superstructure, while being completely oblivious to the existence of this demi-god. And now that I came back here... it feels even more uncanny."

"Though, I really... I really wish Hunter did not abandon me like that. I thought we were meant to go on that mission together? I'm not blind, I know something is wrong with him. We used to go on expeditions in the past, but now that he has a very important payload to deliver and could use some help, he suddenly doesn't need it? I don't understand... I'm more than capable in combat, we make a good team, I thought he was happy with my company?"

"We separated earlier at Farm Arrays. Hunter kept insisting he has to do it alone, despite my pleading. Instead, I was told to head straight to Five Pebbles. I thought we had to visit there anyway? Iterators often use slugcats as messengers, I've learned..."

"Sigh... I feel a little lost all on my own. I miss Hunter already. I hope that, despite everything, he's okay and we will return to NSH soon. But first, I need to pay the local iterator a visit. I'm hoping for some guidance in regards to... ahem... rot, yeah. I heard they've been affected by the disease, too. Maybe they've got an idea on how to manage it? It doesn't hurt to try. Maybe I'll hang around this area for a while to collect as many pearls as possible, then have Five Pebbles read them to me? One of those has to have some kind of instruction on how to treat rot, it has to... I refuse to believe that the disease which plagued iterators for countless cycles is untreatable."

"Uh... the Red One?"

[hopepetal]

Hi! It's been a while, hasn't it?

@applestruda, @periwinklemoonlight, and I have been working on arc three of the boatem knights au for quite a while now. We hope you enjoy it :)

At the moment, the second chapter is not ready for posting, so it won't be out for a while.

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

His nightmares hadn’t gone away.

Feathers rustling in the wind, Grian gazed up toward the night sky. Sighing heavily, he glanced back toward Pearl’s tent. She had offered for him to join her many times– avians were highly sociable after all, and often slept in the same nest– but he’d refused. He wouldn’t want to wake her up as well.

It didn’t make sense. 

Dreams of a desert, of cold silver skin, of red eyes and names and flowers and blood. And every day they’d gotten worse. More vivid.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t something Grian had the energy to figure out right now. He needed sleep.

He stood up and walked back to his own tent, and settled down for what would be another restless night.

And he hadn’t woken up the next day. 

Or the day after that. 

Or the day after that. 

The first day Grian slept through, Pearl hadn’t been too worried. With how bad her brother’s insomnia could get, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to not get enough sleep during the night and then make up for it during the day. She’d checked in on him, of course, and smiled softly at the sight of him curled up in his blankets, wings resting on either side of him as he smushed his face into the pillow. 

“He probably just had a rough night,” she mentioned to the others during lunch, “I wouldn’t bother him.”

Mumbo looked up, frowning slightly. “Hasn’t he mentioned having nightmares for a while now? Maybe that’s what’s been keeping him up.”

Pearl nodded, wings fluttering anxiously behind her. “Yeah. The last few months have been rough on him.”

“I think it’s from all the building we have to do,” Scar piped up. “Trying to finish the lodge has been a nightmare.”

“We’re almost done!” Pearl argued, optimistic as ever. “Just a little more, then we’re all set!”

Mumbo slumped back in his seat, letting out a soft huff. “Can’t we just leave it as is? I think it’s perfectly well done.” 

Scar raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “I think you just don’t like building, mister.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, though he was unable to hold back a grin. “Well, it’s certainly not my favorite activity. I’d much rather be–”

“–working on your redstone, we know.” Impulse chuckled, shaking his head. “Unless you want to be buried in snow by the time winter comes around, we probably shouldn’t be calling the lodge ‘perfectly well done’.”

Mumbo grumbled a little at that, much to the amusement of the others. “Look, I’ll do my tasks and everything, but I’m not happy about it!” 

Pearl laughed, leaning against the table. “You gotta weigh your options, mate. Either build the lodge now, or be wet and freezing during the winter. Which one would you prefer?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

The knights quickly finished lunch after that, making small talk as they cleaned and put away the dishes. The leftovers from lunch were stored away for later, placed in the shed they had built a while back so that the wild animals wouldn’t be able to get into their food.

“Same duties as earlier?” Impulse asked Pearl as they all made their way to the half-finished lodge. 

Pearl nodded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “I don’t see why we would change them. I’ll take on Grian’s duties on top of mine, though I can’t promise I’ll be as fast.”

“Good thing we’re so ahead of schedule, then!” Scar piped up. “It’s a lot easier to focus on one thing instead of a whole bunch of tiny tasks.”

Pearl laughed, her wings fluttering in amusement. “That, and we’re all insanely fast builders. Who would’ve thought?”

Impulse grinned. “Well, I’m just naturally good at everything I do, so I’m not surprised.”

Laughing and joking, the four went about completing their tasks. The sounds of construction filled the air, conversation occasionally popping up alongside it. As the day progressed, it began to get hotter and hotter, construction slowing down as it did so.

Finally, the sun began to set, and their long day of work was called to an end by Mumbo. It was just routine at this point– the knights would work until the sun began to set and then they’d all gather at the west end of camp to watch the sun go down. Mumbo was always the quickest to put away his tools, and today was no different. Impulse and Scar went to join him, while Pearl slipped off to go check on her brother. Just as she had expected, he had barely moved from his sleeping position, only shifted slightly in a likely effort to get more comfortable. She pulled up one of the ottomans, settling down next to his bed. 

Reaching out, Pearl gently brushed some hair out of her brother's warm face, smiling slightly. “Heyyy, Griba,” she murmured, softly so that she wouldn't startle him if he wasn't fully asleep, “you doing alright, mate? You've been asleep all day.” No response. He must've been really out of it. “Well, I brought some food and fresh water. It’ll be on the side table for when you wake up– you must be pretty hungry.” She sighed softly, leaning back. “Well, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow, Griba. I love you.” 

Standing, Pearl quietly left the tent and joined the other knights to watch the sun finish setting. She settled down next to Scar, leaning against him with a sigh. The grass was soft against her skin as she sat and tried to relax, breathing in the fresh air and exhaling the anxiety that was building in her chest. Her whole body ached from the exertion of a day spent building, and the cool night air that brushed against her skin and wove through her hair was a welcome relief from the end of summer heat. 

Scar glanced over at Pearl, giving her his signature crooked smile. “How’s our sleeping friend holding up?” he asked.

Pearl sighed softly, closing her eyes briefly. “Still sleepin’ the day away,” she answered. “I dropped off some food and water in case he wakes up and needs something. I'm glad he’s getting rest, though. I think I’m gonna keep him from helping us work on the lodge for a bit, though. It can’t be good for him to be exhausted and pushing himself like that.”

“Agreed.” Impulse stretched before running a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding his horns. “It’s hard work we’re doing here, man. Kinda wish Skizz could’ve stayed a little longer to help out, but I guess a man’s gotta do his job.”

“And Tango’s been busy,” Scar added, “apparently he's workin’ on a super secret fly-ification project, whatever that means.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Pearl laughed, Impulse nodding along in agreement. Mumbo’s attention seemed to have been caught by that, and he perked up.

“A project? Do you think he’d let me take a look? I know he had mentioned a few things about combining redstone and engineering and really, it was quite fascinating and we had a truly intriguing discussion on…” Mumbo trailed off, noticing how Pearl and Scar were just staring at him. “...well, Impulse gets me!” he flusteredly got out, and the others began to laugh. 

Impulse smiled, chuckling. The light from the setting sun reflected off his piercings, causing them to shine when they caught the light. “That I do, buddy. That I do.”

Mumbo blinked. “Well. Alright, then.”

Pearl stood as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, stretching her wings as the shadows began to grow over the land. “I don’t know about you, but I am absolutely exhausted. I’m heading off to bed. Good night!” She spread her wings and took off, flying low over the ground until she reached her tent. She landed softly, ducking into her tent and changing into her night clothes– soft blue pajamas with stars and little crescent moons. 

Sleep called her name, and Pearl felt the weight of exhaustion pulling her down. She climbed into bed, settling on her stomach and wrapping her arms around the soft pillow. She’d just barely closed her eyes before sleep descended like a soft blanket, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

Grian didn’t wake up the next day. 

When Pearl woke, her limbs still somewhat sore from the day before, she went to check in on Grian before she started her morning chores. He wasn’t up, which meant he hadn’t woken up during the night and stayed up until dawn (again). Pearl was still a little concerned nonetheless, and rushed through her morning chores so that she could go check on Grian. 

When she peeked into his tent, her worry increased at the fact that he hadn’t touched his food or water, and had barely moved from the sleeping position she’d last seen him in. “Griba?” she called softly, “Griba, hey. Are you up?” Upon receiving no answer, she carefully crept forward and placed a gentle hand against his head. 

Oh, no.

Grian had a fever. 

“Griba.” She gently shook him. “Griba. Grian. Grian. Wake up.” Her voice became more frantic as her brother continued to be unresponsive, anxiety spiking in her chest as she tried to wake him. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t do this, Grian. Please.” 

Still, nothing. 

Pearl’s gaze went to the side table, and she stumbled over, grabbing the pen and some blank paper that had been sitting there. Quickly, she wrote down a message to Cub, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she did so. 

Cub,

I’ve been sending quite a few letters lately and I hate to bother you once more, but Grian is sick. He isn’t waking up, and he slept all through yesterday as well. When I checked on him this morning, he was burning up. I’ve tried waking him up, but he hasn’t even responded. 

Please come as soon as you can. 

Pearl

She began folding the paper as she ducked out Grian’s tent, almost running into Scar as she did so. “Ah! Oh, mate, careful!” 

Scar laughed softly, pressing his hands to his chest. “You scared me, Pearl!” he retorted, taking a moment to calm himself down. He caught sight of the paper in Pearl's hands. “Sending another letter, are we?” he asked. “More moth mail?”

Pearl, despite the anxiety she was currently feeling, had to smile. Rolling her eyes, she responded, “We’re not calling it moth mail, Scar.” She closed her eyes and breathed out, pushing her magic into the paper. It took the form of a moth, glowing with enchantments, and flew off. She was quiet for a moment with Scar as they watched it fly off, before sighing. “Grian’s sick,” she told him, “and he’s not waking up. I was just sending a letter to Cub to ask him to come up and check on him.”

Scar frowned, humming thoughtfully. “And this isn’t just Grian being Grian?” he asked, but Pearl shook her head. 

“He’s not waking up, and he’s running a fever. Which, if he was even responding a tiny bit, would be fine, but he’s not even– it’s like he can’t hear me at all. Normally he’d at least have woken up a little and smacked me away or something, but…” Pearl shook her head. “Nothing. He was just… sleeping.” 

“Should we let the other two know?” Scar asked, gesturing with his head over to where Impulse and Mumbo were. They were working on the lodge once more– Mumbo, struggling to walk with the heavy materials and Impulse, carrying as much as he could and encouraging Mumbo on with a smile and kind words. 

Pearl nodded, already starting to walk toward them. “Absolutely. C’mon, mate!” 

Scar jogged over until he was walking by Pearl's side. “Hey! Mister Mumbo Jumbo! Impulse! Hey!” he shouted, waving his arms over his head. “Over here!”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head slightly. “Scar, no need to shout. They’re right there.” Her wings fluttered anxiously behind her as they approached Mumbo and Impulse. “Hey, you two.”

Impulse set down the logs he had been carrying, and Mumbo did the same before collapsing into the grass. “Heya Pearl,” Impulse greeted, “what’s up?”

“Not good news, unfortunately.” The mood sombered up as soon as those words left Pearl's mouth. “Grian’s sick, and he’s not waking up. I sent a message to Cub, but I’m gonna run to the village real quick to grab some general medicine and such. I meant to get some on the next trip, but…” She trailed off. “Clearly, we need them now.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Impulse offered, to which Pearl shook her head. 

“I’ll be flying. It’s faster that way.” Pearl glanced over at Scar, who had joined Mumbo in the grass. “Can you three keep watch over Griba and the camp while I’m gone? Oh, and keep an eye out for a response to the letter I sent to Cub– it’ll be coming back as an enchanted moth, you know what they look like. I don’t think he’ll be sending you a response this quick, but better alert than caught sleeping.” She coughed slightly. “Uh. Excuse the irony of that wording. It’s just a phrase.”

Impulse nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing, Pearl. We’ve got things handled here. Go and get the medicine.”

Scar stood, helping Mumbo up as well. “Yeah! We’ll stop working on the lodge for a bit while this whole thing is goin’ on. Grian’s more important than a building, anyway.”

Pearl heaved a sigh of relief, smiling softly. “Oh, thank you all. This means a lot.” She stretched, spreading her wings and fluttering them slightly before relaxing. “Right. I’ll be off then. Stay out of trouble, ya hear?”

Scar saluted. “Aye aye!” 

With that, Pearl took off, flying over the camp and toward the village. Worry settled uneasily in her stomach, squeezing her chest as she tried to not spiral into an anxiety attack. It would not be good to do that while flying, she figured. 

Grian would be fine. Grian would be– he was fine, he was just sick and once he got rest everything would go back to normal. They’d continue building the lodge and get it done before winter and then they’d move on to their next adventure. 

Yeah.

Everything was going to be fine. 

In a house surrounded by much more greenery than the canyon that it sat in, Cub was working on a very dangerous project. 

Well, it wasn’t dangerous– as long as he took proper care when he was around it and made sure to wear protective gear, of course. A mask fit snugly over his mouth and nose, and he wore elbow long gloves with his lab coat sleeves tucked into them to make sure there was zero possibility of the subject of his experiment touching his skin. 

Holding up the blue-green mold (sculk, the book had called it) up to the light with a pair of tweezers, Cub squinted. It appeared to almost have a sort of heartbeat, he noticed, as it pulsed rhythmically. It might’ve grossed some out, but it made Cub grin. This was so exciting. He had only heard of sculk before, from ancient books and harrowed miners who had narrowly escaped death. To be able to study it like this, up close… it was a dream come true.

Cub jotted down some more notes with one hand, holding up the sculk with his other hand. His attention divided, focus solely locked in on the things he was writing, it was no wonder he got startled by the enchanted paper moth that landed on his desk. He dropped the tweezers with a loud swear, the sculk landing in his lap. No matter– he simply picked it back up with his gloved hands and put it back into its container, sealing it away. He then carefully unfolded the moth, recognizing instantly Pearl's handwriting. 

He frowned as he read the letter, before sighing heavily. “I really can’t leave them alone for five minutes, can I?” Glancing back down at his desk, Cub bit his lip, weighing his options in his head. He really had to finish this current experiment in a certain time frame, and Grian was a healthy man (and a Watcher, besides!). He’d be fine if he had to wait for a little while longer. 

He went and wrote a response on the back of the letter Pearl had sent, chuckling slightly at how his handwriting compared to Pearl’s. 

Pearl,

I’ll be there as soon as I finish up what I was doing. I assume it’ll take me quite some time, so I’ll head out early tomorrow morning. Keep an eye on Grian, give him some medicine and try to get some fluids into him. 

Don’t panic. Remember what I’ve been telling you in our letters– take a deep breath, calm yourself, and try not to let your thoughts spiral. You’re doing a great job. 

Cub

He carefully folded the paper back up, watching as the magic Pearl imbued into it activated, and the moth sprang to life before fluttering off in the direction it came from. Cub’s sharp eyesight caught the moment it burst into purple sparks of magic and sped off into the distance– “moth mail” always fascinated him. It was clearly a concept Pearl had either made up or been taught, and he’d have to ask her some more questions about it later. 

But for now, the sculk called his name. 

It took a little longer than expected to finish up the experiment, but Cub always stayed true to his word. The next day, he woke up with the gray light of dawn and gathered his things, taking care to lock his door before leaving. 

The sun began to rise as Cub started down the familiar path to the camp.

You know how this story goes, by now. 

Grian didn’t wake up the next day. 

Pearl did her best to follow the advice in Cub’s letter– give Grian fluids, take deep breaths, try not to spiral, try not to spiral, try not to–

She was fine. She was fine. 

…which was why she ended up breaking down into tears when Scar asked her how she was feeling, and felt his arms wrap around her and pull her close. “I’m– I’m sorry, I just–” She gasped for air, squeezing her eyes shut tight as hot tears cooled on her skin. Her hands were trembling as she wrung them together, trying to lean into Scar’s calming presence. 

Scar gently shushed her, carefully patting her back between her wings as he tried to soothe her. “It’s a stressful situation, Pearl,” he murmured, his voice quiet and comforting. “It’s okay to be scared. Did you wanna send a letter to Jimmy or something? I’m sure he would be more than willing to come on up for a little bit to help out.” As he spoke, he pulled away from the hug and summoned Jellie, setting the furry blue familiar on Pearl’s lap. “Pet the Jellie. You’ll feel better.”

Pearl smiled weakly through her tears, beginning to gently stroke Jellie’s fur. She felt the tension begin to leave her body as Jellie started purring, her breathing evening out as the cat curled up on her lap. “No… no, Jimmy worries more than I do, I don’t think it would be good to stress him out over this… because it’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.”

Scar nodded. “Right you are, Pearl. It’s gonna be just fine. G’s just taking a big ol’ nap right now, sleepin’ off that nasty fever of his. Give him a little longer and he’ll be just like new. Cub will help him out and then he’ll get rid of that darn sickness in no time!”

Mumbo, who was sitting nearby, leaned forward. “Scar is right, you know. This isn’t the first time one of us has come down with a nasty illness of some sort. Grian just needs a little care and rest, I’m sure!”

Pearl nodded, taking in deep breaths as she continued to idly pet Jellie, wiping stray tears from her face. “Thanks, Scar. Mumbo. I needed that.”

Scar smiled reassuringly, giving her a thumbs up. “No problem, Pearl.”

Mumbo simply nodded, smiling. “Of course, mate.”

It wasn’t long after that Cub finally walked out of Grian’s tent, his expression kept carefully neutral. “Hey, you three. Pearl, could I speak with you?”

Pearl nodded, anxiety spiking once more as she prepared herself for whatever Cub was about to tell her. “Yeah. Of course. Scar, do you mind…?” She gestured toward Grian’s tent with a slight nod, standing up from where she had been sitting next to Scar in the grass and handing him Jellie.

Scar jumped up as well, brushing off his pants before taking Jellie and quietly dismissing his familiar. “Of course, my dear Pearl! I’ll keep a close eye on G.” Scar ducked into Grian's tent, going to take a seat on the ottoman that had remained pulled up next to Grian’s bed. He settled himself down, letting out a soft sigh and leaning forward. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Y’know, G, this isn’t funny anymore.” Scar swallowed dryly, licking his cracked lips. “I’m all for pranks and stuff, but this is going too far. Pearl’s upset, Mumbo is worried, Impulse is trying to keep the other two calm, and I’m…” He shook his head. “C’mon, G. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word. “Please.” 

No response. Of course. Grian was asleep, why would he respond? 

“I mean, really. It's like you’ve been cursed or something,” he weakly joked, before the thought really hit him. Could Grian have been…?

Scar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shifted into his vex form. 

The smell of magic, powerful and wrong, was so strong Scar nearly gagged. He stumbled back, eyes widening as he realized that the magic was coming from Grian, wrapping around his body and curling around his throat. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Scar approached Grian and knelt by the bed. Reaching out, he carefully opened one of Grian’s eyes with his hand. 

Purple. 

Grian’s eyes were glowing purple. 

Scar felt the magic suddenly recede, drawing into Grian like the water being pulled back into the sea. With a sharp inhale, he stumbled back, shifting out of his vex form as he burst out from the tent. “Guys!” he yelled, “guys, something's wrong with–!”

Grian’s magic exploded outwards.

Pearl screamed, lunging forward as she shifted into her Watcher form, wrapping her arms around the only person close enough for her to protect– Mumbo. The two fell to the ground, surrounded by a translucent magic shield that glowed in blue and silver hues. All around them, purple magic swirled and raged like a storm, and all they were able to do was watch as Impulse and Scar collapsed. 

Cub was pushed to his knees, vex form flickering as his own shield began to crack around him. The magic howled in a screeching voice, swirling around Cub’s shield in an attempt to break through and take him as well. 

“Pearl–!” Mumbo cried out, clinging to her tightly. He was pressed against the ground and could hardly see past Pearl, but what he could see terrified him. Pearl’s shield was beginning to give under the incessant pushing of Grian’s out of control magic, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Pearl bit out a sob, holding Mumbo close. The strain of fighting against her brother’s magic had her gasping, grabbing for any and all energy she had to pour into the shield around her and Mumbo. Raising her head, guilt and fear filled her chest as she caught sight of Impulse and Scar, limp on the ground. She could only pray that they were okay. That they were alive. 

The magic like raging wind reached a peak, screaming so loud Pearl’s sensitive ears ached. And just like that, it was over.

Pearl, Cub, and Mumbo were the only ones awake when their shields came down.

All across the realm, Grian’s magic reached out and pulled others into a deep sleep. A king and his hand, alongside his best soldier. A huntsman. A time wizard, armorer, and a friend of the nearby innkeep. A man who guided others through the mountains. An avian, netherborn, and a man who sold flowers. 

One by one, they were surrounded by purple magic, angry and screaming and wanting. And one by one, they all fell asleep. 

Grian woke up to impossibly familiar faces and one objective: survive. 

He pushed himself up from the ground, shaking his head slightly to clear the fuzz as he looked around at the gathered group. “Welcome to Third Life,” he greeted in a voice that wasn’t quite his own, with words he wasn’t sure how he knew. “You all have three lives. Once you lose your last life, you are out.”

Confusion and concern echoed from those around him, and Grian raised his voice. “When you are on your last life– your red life– you will become hostile. All previous alliances will be broken.”

A deep breath.

“Good luck.”

[ptolemaeacles]

♡ being hazel callahan’s cheerleader gf hcs

pairing: hazel callahan x cheerleader!reader

synopsis: what it’s like dating hazel (post huntington fight)

notes: unofficial part two to this !! if you guys have anything to add, feel free to hop into my inbox or comment, i love interacting with you guys !!

word count: 1k

after the huntington fight, she finally took you out on a date. she completely wracked her brain for days trying to find the best place to take you.

most likely, asked josie where she would take isabel since the four of you seemed to be parallels of each other (nerdy, loser lesbian and her super hot, preppy gf)

going back to the first date though, i would imagine she took you to an arcade or maybe a diner (like josie and isabel were at). and of course she shyly asked you if that’s what you wanted.

hazel and you were sat in your english, making usual conversation since the both of you had finished your work. hazel realized it was probably a good time to ask you about that date.

“so i wanted to ask you, um, about the date. i know it’s been a few days and i’ve been planning it but what do you think about the diner? you know, after school, you can pick the day if you’d like, or if you changed your mind, we can just not go at all, it depends on you-”

“haze,” you stopped her with a soft smile and putting your hand on top of hers, “i’d love to go to a diner. that’s perfect. and tomorrow is good with me if it’s good with you!”

hazel sheepishly smiled back at you.

“yeah, it’s good with me.” she murmured.

after the third or fourth date, she wanted to pop the “will you be my girlfriend” speech badly. she wanted it to be romantic but not cheesy, heartfelt but not corny, cute but not cliche. god she was over thinking this like a motherfucker.

and to her surprise, you popped the question before her.

hazel was lounging on the loveseat in the corner of your room while you were sitting cross legged on your bed. the both of you had decided to study at your house after school. (not much studying was done so far. often getting distracted by making out with each other. so much so, the two of you had realized that nearly an hour had passed which resulted in hazel moving to the loveseat so the two of you could get some actual studying done.)

“so did you divide both sides by 6 or by 4? i don’t get that part.” hazel lifted her gaze from her notebook to you, who was already looking at her.

you decided to just blurt it out.

“haze,” she hummed in response, “do you want to be my girlfriend?”

hazel felt her mouth go dry. she really did want to be the one to ask you but it was so much hotter that you asked her.

“yeah, uh, yes, fuck, i’d love to.” she exclaimed.

now onto the actual BEING hazel’s gf (i love to over explain things, sorry)

hazel’s love language is definitely physical touch or gifting-giving. not super into pda but will put her arm around your shoulders or a hand on your lower back when you’re walking. if she’s feeling risqué, then an arm around your waist.

no matter how long you guys have been dating, she still gets nervous around you. doesn’t matter if you woke up with horrid morning breath, messy bed head, and/or a puffy face, she’d still look at you starstruck, as if you held the entire world in your palms. she’s a hopeless woman in love.

she does have a lot of money (probably one of those kids who refuses to say she’s rich, she calls herself “comfortable” …..) but she loves to make gifts for you. i can see her being into welding or wood workshop. (not sure if all schools have these types of classes, i’m american soooo)

100% makes wooden sculptures or welding a ring with the both of your initials on the inside. she made a wooden sculpture of the two of you holding hands (you nearly cried when she gave it to you)

very big music lover. listens to divorced dad rock. pearl jam, metallica, nirvana, etc. probably a minor swiftie (really obsessed with folklore and evermore but not a big fan of her other albums) definitely listens to boygenius (she listens to ‘leonard cohen’ and thinks of you). likes r&b/rap from time to time. (frank ocean, mac miller, a bit of tyler the creator.) oh and some 80s r&b like sade. her playlist is very diverse to say the least.

not really a gf headcanon but she’s definitely got some irregular allergies. strawberries, i would say. walnuts too.

PLAYS GUITAR. both acoustic and electric, she's interested in drums too and she tried learning how to play but it was too loud for her so she quit. writes songs for you but you would never get her to perform them or even show you in a million years.

LOVESSSSSS to nap and cuddle with you. a lot of the time, she invites you to her house under the guise of “studying”. you’ll be grabbing your backpack ready to pull out your english homework and she’s grabbing her blanket and asking you to just lay in her bed with her for “5 minutes”. you guys end up falling asleep (exactly like she planned) and wasted 2 hours. it was worth it.

“okay so i think we should start with our english homework because we need to brainstorm for the ess-“ you opened your bag, ready to study with your girlfriend.

“we can do that later, babe,” hazel grabbed your bag and set it on the ground, “aren’t you tired? i mean you walked all around campus, which is huge, might i add-“

“not really-“

“doesn’t matter. we should lay down and rest a bit so we can have clear minds, and we’ll be ready to study.” hazel had already kicked off her shoes and crawled into her bed, lifting her blanket and silently asking you to lay down with her.

“only a few minutes, okay, and then we have to get to work.” you breathily chuckeld, not impressed with your girlfriend’s antics.

hazel giggled and ushered you under her blanket, wrapping her arm tightly around your waist and tucking your head in the crook of her neck.

you knew what her plan was but she was too cute to say no to.

[tubbytarchia]

Actually I'm gonna need a little insanity thread for all the rancher things I love as I watch their POV for the first time. I'll publicize this when I'm done with ep5

TLDR: Heavens, it is a long list. I cannot tldr this

Them running around in circles, completely lost after their first deaths whilst also not expressing even the slightest bit of anger (esp Jimmy because you know)

Them expecting the other to know how to build but neither of them can

Tango building a box of a house and Jimmy being absolutely smitten by it continuously

Tango praising Jimmy with full genuinity for bringing back... a bucket of water

Them cradling one little chicken like its their offspring before they can get more

Jimmy standing behind the door, calling for Tango in order to surprise him with cows.... god help my heart

Tango declaring them as team ranchers to immediately admit he might not be a very good rancher. This is good and cute because I love to see them struggle yet have unbridled support towards each other

Jimmy being cornered by Joel and Etho so Tango leaves to save him (or so he says at least!)

Jimmy ushering Tango into their house as Tango yells for help due to his hunger and being chased by mobs, and then Jimmy giving him two melon slices because that's all he has (They are so pathetically poor which only accentuates the wholesome and cute factor)

Jimmy accidentally picking up Tango's baked potato and then handing it back to him so they can eat together while Tango basically foams out the mouth because he's so hungry

"Welcome home honey"

Them celebrating being able to feed themselves to any degree

Tango all "I built that wall, it's ugly, continuing the trend" only for Jimmy to immediately proclaim that he likes it

Jimmy catching on that Tango can be a great builder actually and confronting him about it like he's just been cheated on

Tango blocking their entrance to prevent more cows from leaving for Jimmy to then admit that he was the one that broke the door, oops

Tango watching Jimmy escort two goats from a distance "he's doing great"

Them in total confusion wasting way too much time trying to figure out how to get goat horns as they're huddled in their house with said goats strolling around (and them continuing to get butted casually as they go about their normal activities) before eventually choosing to waste much more time by trying to do the same thing outside

Unrelated but Pearl of all people being the first person to come to them with genuine help rather than to fuck with them like everyone else

In the face of all their struggles, the thing that seems to bring the absolute most joy to Tango and Jimmy by this point is obtaining a silly little goat horn

The fact that they both got the exact same goat horn!!!

"I need stuff for tools, and I need stuff for Jimmy"

Tango defending their base's looks despite proclaiming to be a bad builder, because god, I want him to be doing that just because of how much Jimmy praised it

Nobody replying to their goat horns, but THEM replying to each other!! (They also toot at each other later when frantically looking for each other agh!!)

This time Tango interrogating Jimmy as if he's been cheated on because Jimmy went into the deep dark without his approval

"The R survived"

"Tango snap out of it; Tango's having a moment" *Tango yelling and groaning and grunting and laughing continuously*

"Tango, Tango, let's think about this. Let's think about this!" "Hold me back" "Tango, listen to the horn" Jimmy calming his deranged husband aw

Tango burying his head in a corner refusing to look at his beautiful ranch in complete ruin even as Jimmy coaxes him

Jimmy and Tango kind of begrudgingly accepting Scar trying to be nice but Jimmy still valiantly defending the foot tower before it burned to the ground

Their son/daughter :( (Tango refers to the Warden as a she one episode and a he in another. Their child was an icon...)

Tango expressing that he's proud of Jimmy for having stayed alive so long and Jimmy replying "It's all down to to you. Hey, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you"

Maybe Jimmy really didn't have a water bucket on him but it was so funny of him to casually turn to Tango whilst on fire and go "can you put me out?"

Jimmy being comically kidnapped??? (Actually being put into gay baby jail instead) And asking Tango to help save him

"You're still here? It's over. Go home. Go." (insert a bunch of crying emojis)

Other stuff: I think by virtue of Jimmy being a real tall guy, his character is usually depicted as taller than Tango's if not significantly so. As such... Tango calling Jimmy "little man" tickles me greatly and sounds like a very fond pet name

Briefly brought it up earlier but goddd. I will absolutely hc that Tango only became proud and defendant of his work because of how much Jimmy liked what he built. And Jimmy always being there and calming Tango in his crazed outbursts <3 Tango is such a goddamn creature isn't he

And the uhh... Tango dying quickest out of anyone because of a creeper, to then express that he was proud of Jimmy for doing well even though he got them killed the first time around, and then Jimmy unceremoniously dying to an Enderman to end their series for good... As funny and poetic as it is, god, the canary curse fuckin hurts!! And yet there were hardly times that Tango showed disdain towards Jimmy, and then never genuinely. He knew their series could end quick with Jimmy as his soulmate and even when their positivity faltered, their support towards one another never did

For having read all this (or maybe just glancing and scrolling)... some unfinished rancher doodles just for you that I made while watching their POV

:)

[phatburd]

Why Joachim Murat is “Freddie Mercury on Horseback”:

The Outfits – Joachim Murat dressed like he was perpetually about to headline a concert at Wembley. While the rest of Napoleon’s marshals were strutting around in relatively standard-issue blue and gold uniforms, Murat was out there in pearls, gold embroidery, leopard-skin pelisses, and enough plumes to outfit an entire cavalry regiment. He wore white silk breeches, thigh-high boots, and jackets so flamboyant that they’d make Liberace weep. Freddie Mercury had his stage costumes, Murat had his battlefield ensembles. They both dressed like they were the main character in every room they entered—because, to them, they were.

The Hair & The Mustache – Murat’s hair was legendary. We’re talking long, dark, cascading curls that made him look like he had just stepped off the cover of a romance novel. It was pre-Raphaelite levels of excessive, the kind of hair that should belong to a Byronic hero but instead belonged to a man who charged cannons for fun. He had his servants curl his hair in the morning with their fingers. Freddie, on the other hand, perfected the mustache—a mustache that exuded power. The unshakable confidence to rock a mustache that could dominate an entire stadium? That’s pure Murat energy.

The Showmanship – Murat and Mercury both understood that half of leadership is spectacle. Murat didn’t just lead cavalry charges; he performed them. He would charge ahead of his men, sword in hand, caparisoned like a medieval knight, and cut through enemy lines like a divine force of nature. He dove into battle with the energy of a rockstar stage-diving into a crowd, and the men adored him for it. He was the cavalry commander you sent in when you needed a moment of pure, cinematic glory, the kind of guy who would have absolutely jumped off the top of a tank in slow motion if given the chance. Freddie Mercury, meanwhile, understood the power of a dramatic entrance, the electrifying presence of a true performer who could command thousands with a single motion.

The Drama – Everything Murat did was operatic. If he wasn’t riding into battle like an avenging demigod, he was out there writing letters dripping with melodrama. When Napoleon deposed him as King of Naples, Murat didn’t go quietly. He staged a comeback, complete with an attempted guerrilla campaign, got captured, and died by firing squad in full command of his theatrical flair. His last words? “Soldiers! Do your duty! Straight to the heart but spare the face!”—because even in death, he was committed to the bit. Freddie? He gave us “The Show Must Go On” while he was literally dying, because he, too, refused to exit without an encore.

The Pure, Unadulterated Charisma – Murat could make people believe in the impossible. He got an entire regiment to surrender by just yelling at them dramatically. He could rally broken cavalrymen with a single flourish of his sword. His mere physical presence could sway the tide of battle. He wasn’t just a commander; he was a legend in motion, a force of personality so strong that even the sheer idiocy of some of his strategic decisions couldn’t dim his brilliance. Freddie? He held an entire stadium of people in the palm of his hand at Live Aid, making them sing in perfect unison through sheer will. Both men radiated the kind of magnetism that defies explanation but demands attention.

The Overwhelming Confidence – Murat was the human embodiment of “I am going to do this absolutely insane thing and it’s going to work because I believe it will.” And, more often than not, he was right. He rode at the head of some of the most suicidal cavalry charges in history and somehow kept not dying. He thought he could take back Naples with 250 men, which is objectively stupid, but he did it anyway because he was Murat, and reality had to keep up with him. Freddie Mercury? He broke every rule of conventional rock stardom, embraced his flamboyance, and willed Queen into being one of the greatest bands in history—because he believed he could.

The Unfortunate Achilles’ Heel of Thinking They Could Do Everything – Murat was an absolute god on the battlefield, but the second you put him in charge of literally anything political, he made catastrophic decisions at light speed. He tried to play both sides between Napoleon and the Allies, and shocker, that didn’t end well. Actually, it ended in front of a firing squad. Similarly, Freddie Mercury tried to launch a solo career in the mid-80s, and while it wasn’t bad, it also wasn’t Queen, because some things are meant to be part of an ensemble. The moral of the story? Some people are just too powerful in one specific domain and should never be let outside of it.

Dramatic Deaths - Both Murat and Mercury met their ends in ways that were unmistakably them—bold, dramatic, and unforgettable. Murat, ever the theatrical war god, refused a blindfold when facing his firing squad, standing tall in his gold-embroidered jacket and ordering his executioners to aim straight for the heart but spare the face—because even in death, he was committed to looking fabulous. Mercury, knowing he was dying, took control of his own narrative, recording music until he physically couldn’t, and leaving us with the hauntingly perfect “The Show Must Go On.” He didn’t fade away; he gave his own encore and left the stage on his terms. Both were icons to the bitter end, refusing to bow to fate, ensuring that even their deaths became legendary final acts. One faced the bullets. The other faced the music. Both went out as kings.

In short, if Freddie Mercury had been born in the late 18th century, he would have been Murat. If Murat had been born in the 20th century, he would have been Freddie Mercury. Both were louder than life, built for spectacle, and completely irreplaceable.

[sol-consort]

WHOA… HANAR SMUT?!? CLUTCHING MY PEARLS…

THATS TOO FAR! HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING! DISGUSTING! GROTESQUE!

…so how about some elcor love?

I knew you'd come back weatherboy

Explicit elcor smut

what it says on the tin, you know exactly what you came here for

It's too much, that sentence summarises the whole affair. To a puny human like you, everything the elcor has to offer is too much.

Too big, too large, too heavy. You need to use both of your hands to just wrap around it, and it's merely semi-hard.

It will take nothing short of a miracle to fit this monstrous thing inside, even then, there is no feasible way to take it all the way in, you'll have to settle for being speared halfway on the elcor's gaint cock, unable to stuff more without the slight bulge in your stomach growing uncomfortable.

Its girth stretching you more than you've ever been stretched your entire life, the delicious burn fading away as you get used to its size. You feel impossibly full, completely plugged to the hilt.

You've crossed the point of no return. There's no coming back from this. Your body will forever remember this feeling, being pushed to its limit to accomdate to a cock you thought only existed in fiction.

Each time you'll be fucked by another person—a different species, you'll never be truly satisfied, you'll always feel the lack, no matter how well endured the person is, you'll think back to this moment and realise this hunger to be completely filled won't ever be sated again.

Most elcor outright refuse to mate with your kind for that exact reason, you just happened to stumble upon one who's at the prime of his rut cycle, with none to help him through it.

So you made a deal, scratch his back and he'll scratch yours.

Well... snap it in half, more accurately. Despite how careful the elcor is, how much more gentle he is with a delicate being like you, the sound alarms in your brain still go off whenever you have to be lay prone on your stomach for the elcor to mount you from behind.

There is no other position for him; his anatomy doesn't allow for flexibility. You'll always have to be under their gaint towering figure, completely aware of how a single misstep could lead to your hospitalisation for fractured bones.

And yet... in the great wisdom of the human psyche, this looming threat only served to turn you on even more. Feeling like pinned down prey that must stay laying down, ever so pliant and still. Pumping arousal through your entire body, the lust throwing all of critical thinking skills out of the window as you whimper at being under the mercy of such a heavy powerful being who could crush you like a bug.

Just hold on a little, keep staying still, and take everything he throws your way. Keep your hips positioned upwards as he rams into you, grinding against your walls, your insides sucking him back in whenever he pulls out.

The reminder of his self-restraint tethering on the edge, attempting to resist his instincts to breed you and force the rest of his cock inside.

You're not making it easier writhing underneath him. Head buried into the pillow, muffled moans and hoarse cries. Your mind completely blanking, a fucked out expression across your pretty face, not a single thought behind those glossy eyes with clumped eyelashes.

You're forced to live in the present, to experience every sensation as it occurs, be it overwhelming pleasure or mind-numbing lust.

You feel completely empty whenever he pulls out, your body feeling cold whenever it's not pressed flushed against the elcor's, already missing the comforting heat of his body. It's like he already became part of you overnight, as if this was always your purpose, to be a cocksleeve for a being so much larger and stronger than you.

All the pheromones the elcor involuntary ommits which you could never distinguish with your primal human olfactory senses. Yet they still affect your biology all the same, getting you in the right headspace, your body feeling like putty as all the tension melts away.

Lulls you into a dreamy haze, so much so you can't tell apart your orgasms anymore. Your mind seemingly having a mind of its own, only realising you've reached climax multiple times when you feel the sticky wetness of your cum seeping under your stomach.

Completely drunk on lust, drool seeping from the corner of your parted lips, staining the pillow underneath as you cry out in pleasure.

Let's hope you have a breeding kink because the knotting mechanism in the elcor anatomy makes it impossible to pull out.

You'll just have to accept your fate and get stuffed to the brim with the elcor's cum, feeling it pouring inside you, the thick liquid squeezing itself around the elcor's cock, overflooding your insides, your body involuntary attempting to push it out. Your hole convulsing around the big cock plugging it to no avail, it's fully jammed inside, the knot obstructing the cum from pouring out.

You feel it swirling against your spasming walls, the elcor's monotone voice as he offers a sincere apology, pleading with you to bear with him.

He doesn't often finish this quickly, but he hasn't felt a hole as tight as yours before. It felt like your body was begging for him cum, for him to knot and breed you.

His weight presses you deeper into the mattress below, a comforting sensation as it helps work out the soreness in your muscles.

Exhaustion sets in, you blink once, twice, but don't get to open your eyes on the third before sleep overtakes you whole.

Falling asleep with his cock stuffing you with his cum still plugged inside. Why does that thought sound sweetly intimate? You two are connected at your most intimate and sensitive parts just as you drift off to dreamland.

[zalrb]

for your recent ask on how to build relationships in movies where you used willabeth as an example i was just thinking of them as i read ur post lmao! what do u think are some underrated aspects of their relationship in the films ? and if you had to pick a favorite film of the potc trilogy based on just willabeth, which would you pick?

Oh, yay! A Willabeth ask!

AWE automatically wins on "At Wit's End" (aka "Will and Elizabeth's love theme") alone. That is the soundtrack to a cosmic, epic, transcendental, soul-moving, earth-shattering love story, that is the epitome of a romantic composition, it is everything. Like just listen.

But I mean, the scenes that they have in this movie?

I'm not sure that there's anything that shippers find underrated about them, it would just be in response to Sparrabeth shippers or people who are anti-Willabeth, which I just don't find merits a response but something I do quite enjoy about the Willabeth love story is the role Jack plays in it and how his respective bonds with Will and Elizabeth actually reinforce that love story:

Like, Jack helps Will come to terms with his parentage and history

and therefore who he is and Will, in turn, saves Jack from the gallows.

Elizabeth has faith in Jack, tells him he’s a good man, helps him see the morality of situations

and Jack does prove her right in Dead Man’s Chest by coming back to help the crew but I think the most significant way he proves her right is by going against a desire he wanted for all of At World’s End so he can do right by Will (and it actually goes further than his desire throughout At World’s End but to a fundamental passion like he sold his soul to Davy Jones to get the Pearl, that’s how much he loves the sea)

and then you had Jack speaking to Elizabeth’s desire for freedom

and encourages her obtainment of that freedom, of that agency, of that power

which ultimately leads back to her choosing to love and be with Will

which, despite what antis say, isn't a regression. The trilogy begins with seeing her discomfort in "polite society" and feeling pressured into doing what's expected i.e. an engagement to Norrington

which includes hiding her fascination with pirates as well as her feelings for Will

the two things are interconnected. In fact, when we see her being chastised for not behaving the way she should, it's when she's too intimate with Will

Her interest in pirates is signified with her keeping Will's medallion

her choosing Will is also her choosing her own freedom

Will even teaches her how to fight

and throughout the trilogy, it's them discovering more facets of themselves i.e. Will reunites with his father, Elizabeth actually gets to be a pirate but what even got them on those journeys was trying to find/help the other so they can be together

and those layers just bring them back together stronger. This has always been the point

This also isn't exactly underrated but I find when I go into the tag, there's a lot of emphasis on what Will does for Elizabeth, how he supports her, how in love with her he is, how devoted to her he is and I completely understand why but also Elizabeth's devotion to Will deserves a spotlight as well.

Going to fight undead pirates alone to save Will

Being both surprised and upset at Will even considering that she could be in love with Jack

Giving away the entire plan because she couldn't feign disinterest when Sao Feng acted as though he'd stab Will

Having to literally be carried away by Jack when Will was stabbed

Even the smaller, in between things like Will shouting at Elizabeth to shoot at the barrels of rum but her refusing because he was still caught in the net.

I just love them so much.

[retrowitchy]

hello here is the 2nd chapter of my continuing fic from lenore dove's POV of the night she calls haymitch on the phone !!!!!!!!!! :) :) <3 <3 <3

the law locks up the man or woman who steals the goose from off the common

The Covey house is far walk from the main part of town, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. I am wearing one of my favorite skirts and I'm doing my best to keep it from sweeping the dirt. As I meander down the path, through the tall grass of the Meadow, I think about a time pretty similar to this, except the complete opposite.

“Hey,” I laugh, trying to diffuse my giggles by shushing Haymitch.

“You gotta quit giggling,” he says, cracking up, attempting to cover my mouth with his hand, while I push him away. “You’re gonna get arrested!”

“And so what if I do?” I ask, defiantly and filled with the glee of being out on a late moonlit night with the boy you love. “What can they really do to me?”

“Lots- they can do lots- Lenore Dove, don’t joke about that,” he says, his grin starting to dim. Oh no, I have doused his light- I gotta get it back.

“You know I’m kidding,” I say, cheerfully. That seems to get it to return, ‘cuz his grin is back on.

We move through the tall grass, which sorta acts like a cover. The full moon counteracts that, though, because it’s bright as a white pearl and shining on our faces. If any Peacekeepers happened to be stationed out here, they’d chase us away and we’d have to hightail it or submit ourselves for questioning. But they won’t be- they never are. Besides, it’s too late, and they’re wanting the release of sleep after a long day. Not us, though. In this moment, we’re just a couple of kids happy to be awake and alive.

Pulling his hand, I lead him down the trail and to the clearing where the dirty path starts to blend with old cobblestone. Houses, a few with lights still in their windows, start to pop up, and we’ve almost arrived. Town is a little bit trickier to get through this time of night, because you never know where a Peacekeeper might be, but sneaking around with Haymitch is like taking a dose of liquid courage- not ‘cuz he’s any sort of expert at this necessarily, but ‘cuz two is better than one in cases like these, and because it’s fun to be in love when you’re not even thirteen years old yet.

We do make it through town, though, without any trouble. Lucky us. I lead him to the center of the square.

“Lenore Dove, where the heck are we going??” he asks for the sixth time. I refuse to tell him until I can show him.

“I already told you, you gotta be patient!” I say, in an exclaimed whisper of feigned exasperation, as we head toward the Justice Building. They just set up this fancy stage that they put out every year for the ceremony, but since it’s two in the morning, nobody’s out there to guard it, and I have already noted that there are no security cameras. We stop and stand in front of it.

“So, what, you wanted to show me the spot where a bunch of kids we know get dragged off every year?” he says, skeptical.

“Don’t get smart with me,” I say, kneeling on the ground by the folds of cloth that cover up the metal base of the stage. I lift up the fold to reveal- a little candle and a match. Just the nubby end of a taper candle that nobody wants for the mines. It looks unassuming, like it rolled under there by accident.

“What?” he says, looking for what I personally think is pretty obvious, but he’s a little slower than me sometimes. That’s okay.

I point to the candle, tap the match, close the fold of the stage, and press a finger to my lips.

“What??” he asks again, but this time he’s got some worry in his voice. “Come on, Lenore Dove, don’t play coy, tell me what you’re doing with that.”

“Nah,” I say, with a little devil’s grin creeping up my cheeks. “Can’t tell you. You gotta have deniability.”

“Lenore Dove…” he starts, swallowing.

“Shh,” I tell him. “Not a word. But in two days, during that reaping, there’ll be a little bit of a ruckus.”

I’m pretty certain I’ll get arrested again tonight, and that’s pretty normal for me. It’s why I wore my nicest outfit- I like to show a little dignity when I’m in that cell. But I am even more certain that there will be more than a little bit of a ruckus.

Unlike that night four years ago, there are plenty of white uniforms around. Luckily, District 12 doesn’t have a curfew or anything- the Peacekeepers just get a little skeptical if you’re caught alone at late hours. But I won’t be alone, at least not for long.

I go the long way to the Justice Building, through the Seam instead of cutting through town. Stopping outside a friendly looking little house with sheet moss climbing all over the roof, I readjust my tune box in my arms, freeing up one hand and using two of my fingers to shoot out a sharp, two note whistle. Then I wait expectantly, resting against a tree and watching the window.

Sure enough, a curly brown head pops outside it after a moment. Trusty as mousing cat, Burdock blinks down at me.

“Hey, Lenore Dove. Some of us are in our pyjamas, you know.”

“Sorry to interrupt. But I need your help.”

Burdock doesn’t ask questions, just nods and closes the window. I know he’ll trust me to explain, and I appreciate that about him, that he can recognize when something’s important. He’s always there when you need him.

I finger the raspberry ribbon laced inside the cuff of my jacket. Special, a piece of a person I have the nerve to feel a connection to. I wonder what she’d think of what I’m about to do. I never met Lucy Gray Baird, but somehow I just know deep in my gut she’d like this plan of mine.

The front door to the house creaks open. The Everdeen house sorta slants forward a little, so every time they open that door, the bottom of it sticks in the ground and you have to tug a little to get it back closed. Burdock does just that, as quiet as possible, and then joins me, hands in his pockets. His demeanor is calm and contained, but by the look he’s giving me, I can tell he thinks I might have some kind of update on Haymitch. I wish I did.

“What gives, cuz?”

“Hey. I need you to get some folks over to the Justice Building,” I tell him, solemn-like.

He raises an eyebrow. “How come, something happening over there?”

“Not yet.”

“Well… what should I tell people?”

I think about it.

“Tell them Lenore Dove is about to put on the best damn show of her life.”

[fantasyescapes17]

Candle (Part 2)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Genre: Yoon Jeonghan x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Wonwoo's sister so your last name is Jeon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1 Part 3

Series Masterlist [I would recommend reading the first story in this series, Patience, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

It did occur to you that you should confide in your dear friend Miss Ella Williams about your encounter with Jeonghan. But Ella spent the entire carriage ride home gushing about how well travelled Mr. Xu Minghao was, and all the exotic places he had seen. You barely had time to speak. 

And perhaps you did not truly care to try. 

What Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had said and done was not only flirtatious, it was also a secret and telling anyone would surely destroy the excitement bubbling inside of you (particularly since Ella would tell you off for approaching Jeonghan so shamelessly). You had never had a secret before- much less one that involved such a dashing gentleman- and it was really quite thrilling. 

“Miss, where are your pearls?” Daisy asked, concerned, as she helped you undress for bed that night and found no necklace. "Have you lost them? Should I send word to the staff at the assembly rooms to search for them?"

You bit back a smile. "Oh- no need, Daisy. Ella wanted to try them on so I lent them to her. She will return them to me when we meet tomorrow."

Daisy relaxed. "Oh, of course, miss. Good night, then."

"Good night."

You closed your eyes and dreamt of Yoon Jeonghan until the candle in your bedchamber had completely burnt out. 

—----------------------------------------------

The Hongs' ball was a grand affair of unrivalled proportions. It was no secret that Viscount Hong was currently 'in the market' for a bride, so his mother had spared no expense for this season's ball hosted at their palatial London home. Even if you had been lacking for dance partners (which you were not) you could have passed an interesting evening simply by looking around all the lavishly furnished rooms at the Hongs’ magnificent manor. Your brother Wonwoo (who refused to dance beyond his mandatory two dances per ball) had surely found some interesting artwork to admire.  

But you had lots of dancing and socialising to do. 

You donned your favourite dress for the evening and decided to forgo a necklace. After all, when Jeonghan returned your pearls after your dance, it would be strange indeed if you were already wearing a necklace. 

"Show me your dance card, friend," Ella insisted as she pulled you aside and seized your little card. It was almost full. The evening was more than half over and you had already danced with a few gentlemen including Mr. Kim Mingyu and Mr. Hessington. You had promised the next one to the lively Mr. Lee Seokmin.

"You still have one dance unspoken for," Ella remarked. 

"Oh, I-I have promised the last dance of the evening as well- it is just that the gentleman has not yet signed my card," you admitted. Ella gave you a strange look but she was luckily distracted by the sight of one of her favourite new gentleman admirers, Mr. Xu Mighao entering the room. 

You watched with amusement as Ella batted her eyelashes at Minghao from across the room and gave him a pretty smile. You laughed. 

“What are you doing?” you demanded of her.  

She turned back to you. “Trying to coax Mr. Xu to ask me for a second dance. Do you think he might? He seems a little shy but I am quite certain that with some time and effort I might get him to make a bolder move. Will you excuse me?” 

“Oh, Ella, wait!” you grabbed your friend’s hand. 

“Yes?” 

“Will you lend me your little book?” you lowered your voice. “You know the one…”  

Ella giggled. “Someone’s caught your eye, have they? Of course. Here it is- I must go and take my chance to speak to Mr. Xu, so keep the book safely with you and I will collect it from you  later.” 

You accepted the book gratefully. It occurred to you that even if you did not tell Ella about the little candle that Yoon Jeonghan had lit in your heart, you should be better prepared for your next encounter with the man. Admittedly, you knew very little about Jeonghan. Only that he attended Oxford with Viscount Hong and had two half-sisters; one that had been out in society for many years but was still unmarried and the other one yet to debut. 

There was still a minute or two until your dance with Mr. Lee Seokmin so you quickly opened the book and flipped to find the page on Jeonghan. It was not nearly as full as Kim Mingyu’s had been (you were pleased to find that Mr. Yoon did not have a list of heartbroken women to occupy multiple lines of the page). 

But then you saw it. 

Rumoured to be an absolute  villain, Ella had scribbled at the top of the page. Mr. Yoon’s father died intestate and he inherited his entire vast fortune. Possesses wealth beyond measure but refuses to provide dowries for his half-sisters- and will not financially support his step-mother. Has been seen actively sabotaging Miss Yoon’s suitors. 

You stared at the page in shock. Could this be true? Could it really be true? Was Mr. Yoon Jeonghan such a selfish person that he would reduce his sisters and step-mother to poverty while he kept his father’s entire estate? That was far beyond normal selfishness. That was monstrous- even if he disliked his sisters excessively, it did not justify. There were times when you and Wonwoo did not see eye-to-eye but you could not imagine your brother going to such lengths to ruin your life. 

If Mr. Yoon Jeonghan was such a terrible person… 

You felt small and foolish. How could you have allowed yourself to be swept away by Jeonghan’s devilish ways? You had hoped for excitement, certainly, but this far beyond what you (or any sensible woman) could accept. If he treated his sisters this way, then why would he treat his wife any better? 

Not that you would ever become his wife. 

No, no, no, that was certainly out of the question now. 

“Miss Jeon! I believe the dance is about to begin.” 

You quickly tucked away Ella’s book in your skirts before turning to a smiling Mr. Lee Seokmin. He had his hand held out towards you- you accepted it with a forced smile and allowed him to lead you through the dance. You were fortunate that Mr. Lee was a cheerful gentleman who did not mind your short responses to his questions. It was impossible to focus on Seokmin when your mind was whirling with thoughts of Mr. Yoon Jeonghan, and how foolishly you had thrown yourself in the path of such a villainous man. 

What were you going to do?

The dance ended. Mr. Seokmin thanked you and went on his way- and you were struck with the terrible realisation that in a few short moments, the last dance of the evening would begin and Mr. Yoon would come to claim your company as promised. 

No. You could not dance with him. You had made enough of a fool enough of yourself and you decided you had rather die of embarrassment than risk dancing with him and having to speak to him after your discovery of his true character. What would you even say to the man? I apologise for flirting with you the other day, but really, I had no idea that you were a villain? No, it would not simply not do. The mere thought made you nauseous. 

Your eyes desperately searched the ballroom for an escape and you saw Mr. Kim Mingyu standing nearby and calmly sipping a drink as he eyed the refreshment table.  

“Mr. Kim! Do you have a partner for the next dance?” you demanded, trying not to reveal how flustered you were. 

Mingyu blinked down at you with mild surprise. “No, I was actually going to sit down for this one-” 

“You must dance with me.” 

Mr. Kim Mingyu smirked and folded his arms across his chest. “Miss Jeon, that is quite shocking. Not only is it improper for a lady to ask a gentleman to dance, but unless you have forgotten, we have already danced together once this evening. A second dance would surely raise some questions-” 

Mingyu suddenly stopped speaking. His eyes landed on someone behind you. You recognized the intruder with a sinking feeling when you heard the familiar voice that had occupied your dreams all night. 

“Miss Jeon. I believe you owe me the next dance,” Mr. Yoon said calmly. 

Your throat tightened. You preferred to think that you appeared calm but, in reality, the utter panic that had seized your entire body was quite evidently written on your face. You turned around to face Yoon Jeonghan but kept your shaky gaze fixed on a random spot on his chin to avoid having to read the expression in his eyes. 

“M-Mr. Yoon,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “It is a pleasure to see you, but I am afraid you are quite mistaken. I have already promised this dance to Mr. Kim.” 

Mingyu raised an eyebrow but did not speak. 

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes with a hint of confusion. He was not stupid. It was immediately evident to him that your tone- indeed, your entire manner- towards him had changed drastically since the previous evening. You appeared almost afraid of him. Jeonghan’s smile fell, but he did not argue. He calmly took a step back and nodded. 

“I see. My apologies, I must have been mistaken,” he said simply. “Enjoy your dance.” 

Jeonghan left without any further ado and you swallowed deeply before turning back to face Mingyu. Mingyu was not inclined to allow your awkward behaviour to pass without comment. He glanced awkwardly at the retreating Mr. Yoon, and then back at you. 

“Miss Jeon, I really have to ask-” 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” you cut him off quickly. 

“Yes, but-” 

“You said I could always summon you if I required a dance partner. Are you reneging on your promise?” you insisted. 

Mingyu sighed before offering you his arm. “No, I certainly do not renege on my promises. But you should know that Mr. Yoon is a close friend to both myself and your brother. Secrets don’t stay hidden for long in the ton- and you will certainly not be able to keep yours for very long if you are this terrible at concealing your feelings.” 

You flushed, but could not think of anything to say. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Kim Mingyu was not wrong. Your secret barely lasted a few hours- indeed, it was exposed that very night. 

“Is there something I should know about you and Mr. Yoon?” your brother Wonwoo asked as soon as you arrived home from the Hongs’ ball. 

Your parents had already retreated to their bedchambers for the night and you were downstairs in the grand foyer with your brother. Wonwoo had never been one to speculate or inquire excessively into your life. He was more calm and level-headed than you. 

His lack of interest in most things also made him easier to deceive. 

You flushed and pretended to occupy yourself by adjusting a decorative piece on the mantel. “Mr. Yoon? Not at all. I know very little about him.” 

“Then why have I been asked to return this to you?” 

You turned slowly and your heart sank as you saw what Wonwoo was dangling between his fingers. Your pearl necklace. Oh no. You had been exposed. The necklace made everything look far more scandalous than it really was, and if word spread among the ton that a gentleman had been in possession of one of your necklaces then it would lead to all sort of speculation, and your virtue would be questioned, and you would be ruined, simply ruined-

“Sister,” Wonwoo said gently as he pressed a comforting hand to your shoulder. “Relax. Your secret is safe.  It is only Mr. Kim Mingyu and I who have heard of it, and neither of us would allow this to be revealed further.” 

You blinked up at him with tears forming in your eyes. “Oh Wonwoo, I have been quite stupid!” you confessed miserably. 

Wonwoo gestured to an armchair. “Sit.” 

“I-I really shouldn’t have flirted with Mr. Yoon, I know, and I should probably have scolded him when he took the necklace, but you must believe that I really had no idea of his villainous reputation!” you confessed. 

Your horror at having discovered Jeonghan’s true nature had caused you to forget entirely about the fact that he still had your pearl necklace in his possession. Wonwoo sighed as he sat opposite you. Your brother did not seem angry- his expression was far more sympathetic than you felt you deserved. 

“You are right that you have been stupid, but I’m not sure you understand the exact instances in which you have been stupid,” Wonwoo replied.  

You frowned. “What?” 

“Firstly, sister, you are lucky that Mr. Yoon is a gentleman. He returned the pearls directly to me and explained the circumstances. Considering how you offended him by openly declining a dance, a lesser man may not have been so careful to ensure that the necklace- and word of it- did not fall into the wrong hands.”

“Y-yes, I suppose not,” you admitted. 

“What caused you to suddenly refuse to dance with him?” Wonwoo questioned. “From what I understand, you were quite happy to indulge in flirtation with him at the assembly rooms yesterday evening.”  

“I had not heard then,” you mumbled. “About his family.” 

“That he has supposedly stolen his sisters’ dowries, ruins their prospects, and threatens to throw his step-mother out into the streets?” Wonwoo asked.

“Well-yes.” 

“And you believe these rumours?” 

Your eyes widened. “Should I not?” 

Wonwoo rubbed his temple with his fingers. He seemed torn. “These are not my secrets to tell so I will not be the one to reveal them to you. But let me say one thing, sister. If I had done to you what Mr. Yoon is rumoured to have done to his sisters, you would never speak to me again.” 

“That is… true,” you admitted. 

“And yet Miss Yoon does not appear to bear any grudges against her brother.” 

You paused and thought about it for a moment. It was true; Miss Yoon was often in the company of her brother and you had never seen her look displeased or upset with Jeonghan. You had simply assumed that she was a good-natured woman- she certainly appeared oddly content with her dire circumstances- but surely, if she had such a villainous brother as that, she would not want to be in his company?

“I mean- if she is financially dependent upon him, then it stands to reason that-” you began to argue. 

Wonwoo stood up before pressing the pearl necklace into your hands. “I won’t say anything further. Just be more careful in the future, sister.”

You clasped the necklace tightly and nodded. 

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Wonwoo.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spent a few days mulling over your thoughts. It was difficult to decide what to do- your feelings were mixed and you could not quite determine whether you had made a mistake in distancing yourself from Mr. Yoon, or if it was for the best that you did not continue an acquaintance with a man who had such a terrible reputation in society. 

It was not long before you were presented with an opportunity to learn more. 

“We have been invited to a ladies’ tea this afternoon by Mrs. Yoon,” your mother informed you over breakfast later that week. “I have accepted the engagement for us, I hope you will not find it an unpleasant way to spend your afternoon?” 

Your eyes widened. “Not at all, mother, it sounds lovely.” 

“Perhaps you will have an opportunity to befriend Miss Yoon,” Wonwoo suggested lightly as he buttered his toast. You frowned at your brother across the table- but he did not look up at you. “I hear her circumstances are quite dire, what with her half-brother refusing her a dowry.” 

Mother narrowed her eyes at him. 

“And why are you so interested in Miss Yoon, pray tell?” she insisted. “Perhaps you are intending to court her?” 

“I have no particular intention of courting any woman. I only recommended Miss Yoon as a potential friend to my sister,” Wonwoo replied coolly. 

Your mother turned back to you with a sigh. 

“I worry that we shall have to consider ourselves fortunate if your brother agrees to wed any woman- her dowry be damned. But we shall not allow Wonwoo to rain upon our day, my darling. Let us take a walk in the garden before we depart for the Yoon's."

You nodded. "Of course, mother."

You felt rather nervous that afternoon when you entered Yoons' large London home and took your seat in their tea parlour. It was a ladies' tea, so you knew that the chances of seeing Jeonghan were very slim- but it still made you anxious to be walking around a home that he owned. 

"What stunning artwork!" the ladies gasped. There were at least ten women gathered in the Yoon's parlour for the afternoon tea. The lack of sufficient common topics of conversation meant that the lavish art pieces in the parlour served as an ice-breaker. 

"Yes- I selected these myself," Mrs. Yoon gushed. "When my husband was still alive, of course. He was such a lover of the arts, he really understood the value of having quality pieces to brighten up a room-"

It was incredibly dull. 

You had very little interest in art or paintings, and absolutely none in the uninformed opinions of the older ladies of the ton. You had no choice but to pick up your teacup and approach the quiet Miss Yoon. She had not spoken much all afternoon, but smiled at you kindly. 

"Miss Yoon," you greeted the woman. "I do not think we have properly met."

She welcomed you to sit beside her. "That is correct- but I have heard much about you, Miss Jeon. I have also had the pleasure of meeting your brother and dancing with him a few times."

"So you have had the unpleasant experience of being one of his obligatory two dance partners at every ball," you teased. But your interest was now piqued- how did she know Wonwoo? "May I ask how you came to be in the unfortunate position of dancing with Wonwoo?"

"We were introduced last year by my brother, Jeonghan," Miss Yoon said simply. "I believe Jeonghan knew him from their days at Oxford together."

You sipped your tea to hide your surprised expression. It was strange- Jeonghan's name fell from her lips so easily and without the slightest hint of malice or disdain. If her brother was such a villain, surely she could not speak of him in such a casual tone? 

Or was Miss Yoon simply an expert at hiding her emotions?

You gently prodded further. 

"Wonwoo hardly speaks about his time at Oxford although I ask him so many questions," you began. You would have to tread carefully in your quest for information. "I have always been fascinated by the idea of going away to college. But Wonwoo will not indulge me. Is your brother the same?"

Miss Yoon blinked in surprise. "Oh- no, Jeonghan speaks of his time at Oxford often. We frequently have his old classmates over to dine or for tea. I have heard plenty of stories."

"I see."

"Perhaps if stories of Oxford interest you, you should speak to Mr. Kim Mingyu or Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. Even Mr. Lee Seokmin. They are all very engaging story-tellers, and I doubt any of them would decline to answer questions from a beautiful young woman such as yourself."

You frowned. This was too strange. Surely if there was bad blood between Miss Yoon and her brother, he would not introduce her to his old classmates and tell her about his time away at college? It was stranger still that she should be so familiar with Jeonghan's friends- Mr. Kim, Mr. Kwon…

Miss Yoon blinked at you in surprise. "Have I offended you, Miss Jeon?"

You quickly masked your frown. 

"Oh! No, not at all, Miss Yoon! I apologise- I was only thinking of how I wish my own brother was a little more interested in society and conversation," you lied quickly. "I could not help but admire how beautiful your home is. If it is not too much trouble, could I perhaps see some of the other rooms?"

Miss Yoon nodded. She was not particularly enjoying herself in the tea parlour either. "I should be delighted to show you the house."

You each informed your mothers of your intention to explore the rest of the house, and were sent off with their blessing. 

"I am afraid you do not appear to enjoy these afternoon teas," you remarked to Miss Yoon, while she showed you around the grand dining room and half-heartedly explained the origins of the antique china displayed in the cabinets. 

She smiled thoughtfully. "I will not lie- I shall be glad when I no longer have to come to London every season. I would be perfectly happy to spend all year in the countryside."

"But will you not feel lonely? There must be very little society in the countryside," you remarked. 

She smiled. "I should prefer the company of one or two people I love, over an entire society of people I do not."

"Oh," you mumbled. "I actually rather like being in London for the season. The balls are such good fun, and I enjoy dancing very much. Perhaps the conversation becomes dull on occasion, but… I believe dull conversation is better than none at all."

Miss Yoon laughed. "Of course, Miss Jeon. I never meant to suggest otherwise. If you like society, then of course you must enjoy the season to its fullest. You are young, beautiful, and well-loved by the ton."

You looked up at her boldly. "Do you mean to imply that you are not?'

"I…" Miss Yoon gave you a gentle smile. "God forbid you should remain unmarried well into your late twenties with your prospects lessening by the day. Perhaps then you shall not enjoy society as much either."

"Perhaps not," you admitted. 

"But I do not believe you shall have to suffer the same fate as me. You seem to have captured the interest of many young men."

It was increasingly odd. While Miss Yoon spoke of her suffering and decreasing prospects, you did not see any actual pain in her eyes or hear any anxiety in her tone. She talked about her difficulties plainly, almost as though she spoke of someone other than herself. 

Something was very, very unusual about all this. 

Arm-in-arm, you both exited the dining room and entered the drawing room- and were struck suddenly by a shocking sight. 

Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had just entered the drawing room from a different entryway. You found yourself standing face to face with the handsome man in his brown riding jacket.  Jeonghan's dark hair was slightly tousled, and he had a hunting rifle tucked under his arm. 

"Jeonghan!" Miss Yoon greeted her brother pleasantly. "I did not know you would be here. Have you returned from hunting so soon?"

Jeonghan nodded. His dark eyes landed on you  briefly but he did not allow them to linger for too long.  He cleared his throat. "Yes. I'm afraid there was a bit of rain so the game was not as plentiful as it could have been. I see you have company."

"Ah-yes- Miss Jeon, allow me to introduce you to my brother, Jeonghan," Miss Yoon said. 

"We have met," you said hastily. "We were introduced at the Hessington's ball by Viscount Hong. It-it is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Yoon."

Jeonghan nodded. 

"And you, Miss Jeon."

"I was showing Miss Jeon around the house. The conversation in the tea parlour with the rest of the ladies was growing quite monotonous," Miss Yoon explained pleasantly. "But perhaps we should be returning now."

Jeonghan set his rifle down and reached into his coat pocket."Of course. But just a moment- sister- I have a letter for you from our mutual friend."

You watched as Miss Yoon attempted to conceal her delight at the envelope that her brother produced. Had you not been paying close attention, you might not have noticed the way her usually calm eyes suddenly  lit up like a beacon.  

But you were paying attention, and you did notice. As a fellow woman you could not possibly mistake the expression on her face. 

That was the expression of a woman in love. 

It all clicked into place suddenly. 

Of course. Of course, Miss Yoon is having an affair, of course she is perfectly happy without a dowry or suitors or prospects because she does not need any of it! She is in love!

You straightened up and smiled. "It would appear that you have been awaiting that letter, Miss Yoon- please feel free to sit down and read it, if you like. Perhaps Mr. Yoon might help me find my way back to the tea parlour?"

Miss Yoon hesitated. "I…"

Jeonghan looked at you for a long moment. He was evidently confused. His expression made it quite clear that he did not know why you had publicly rejected him at the Hongs' ball but were now orchestrating a situation to be alone with him. But, for whatever reason, he did not protest. 

Jeonghan offered you his arm. "It would be a pleasure to escort you back to the tea parlour, Miss Jeon."

Miss Yoon could scarcely object when every part of her yearned to be left alone and read her letter. She allowed Jeonghan to lead you out of the drawing room without much ado. 

The moment you were alone, Jeonghan tensed.

"Miss Jeon-"

"Mr. Yoon," you stopped walking and turned to face him. Jeonghan's handsome face looked down at yours with a softness that you had not expected. "Mr. Yoon, you must be terribly confused. I owe you an apology."

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "I do not require one."

"But it is true that I agreed to dance with you, and then avoided you-"

"Miss Jeon," Jeonghan said firmly. His voice was tense but gentle. "You do not owe me an apology. I behaved inappropriately at the assembly rooms the other evening. I was carried away by our flirtation. I am the one who should apologise. It was never my intention to pressure you to dance with me, or to cause you discomfort."

You bit your lip. "I-I was not uncomfortable-"

"You very clearly were."

"It was not because of the… the flirtation," you mumbled, still finding it a little embarrassing to use the word openly in the presence of a gentleman. 

The corner of Jeonghan's lips curved upwards. 

"Oh?" he asked. 

"Only because- just before our planned dance, I heard some things that made me…question your character…"

Jeonghan's eyes widened in understanding. 

"I see."

"But I am not sure what to think anymore. I did not think I wanted to associate with a man that would take his sisters' dowries. But my brother vouches for you, and the very woman who is the supposed victim of your offences- your sister- does not seem to bear you any ill-will. ."

Jeonghan folded his arms across his chest and nodded. "I understand."

"Is it true? Have you really taken away their dowries?" you asked him boldly. You looked up and met his eyes- Jeonghan seemed surprised and a little pained. He was silent for a long moment before he responded. 

"The rumours are not entirely baseless," he admitted carefully. 

"You are avoiding the question."

"I may be."

"But you are a gentleman," you pressed him. "And you cannot deny it, since only a gentleman would have quietly returned the pearls to my brother without breathing a word to anyone. So I would like to believe that whatever offences the ton believes you to be guilty of- perhaps you have committed these offences not to harm your sister, but rather to enable her happiness."

Jeonghan stiffened. "I can neither confirm, nor deny-"

"I am not asking you to confirm it. I am well aware, Mr. Yoon, that you are not a man who easily admits to anything. I am simply telling you what I have chosen to believe," you replied. 

Jeonghan smiled. "I suppose you are free to believe whatever you choose, Miss Jeon. I can hardly stop you."

You smirked. "And you are quite sure?"

"I have no objection."

"Would you still have no objection if I saw fit to mention my beliefs to others?" you teased. "For you see, I appear to have stumbled into possession of a secret- one that I have no incentive to keep,  since I owe no loyalty to any of the involved parties."

"I will depend upon your secrecy, Miss Jeon-"

"You may not. I do not keep secrets for free, Mr. Yoon. If you do not want me to expose your true nature as a selfless brother and gentleman to the ton, I will require more than empty-handed pleas."

Jeonghan chuckled. "You are full of surprises, Miss Jeon. Very well. I will not plead with you. But there must be some way to secure your secrecy?"

You looked up at him coyly through your eyelashes.

"There is. I shall require compensation," you said to him in a low voice. Jeonghan's eyes twinkled with delight as he looked down at you "And before you ask- no, I have no need of money."

Mr. Yoon smirked. 

"Then what may I offer you instead, Miss Jeon?"

You hummed thoughtfully. "I believe this secret is large enough to necessitate collecting my compensation in instalments. You may pay me the first instalment on Monday- by dancing with me at the Hastings' ball."

Jeonghan leaned down to whisper quietly in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

"We have a deal."

—---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you so much for the attention this series has received! I honestly did not expect such a positive response since my blog is so new, but I guess I'm not the only one who gets all tingly at the thought of regency!Seventeen, haha. I wanted to keep Candle short but I got carried away- so it will be a three-parter now and I'm working on the third part so hopefully in a few days I can upload it? I'm doing Mingyu next so hopefully you guys are excited for that too!

Feel free to reach out to me with feedback or anything! I'm not sensitive. :D Also any advice on how best to tag my fics would be helpful, I'm not sure what the best practice is for this stuff.

[nephilimbrute]

ur agents in particular FASCINATE me so so much i love your interpretations of them. could u tell us more about them and their stories? particularly 8, theyre so interesting!!! why do they hate marina? what happened between them and 3? what’s their relationship like with 4? anything you wanna say abt them, i’d love the infodump

omgosh....😇

a few days ago i wrote a thing that like. detailed stuff about major events with 8. i'll paste them here

agent 8 during the entire course of Octo Expansion was extremely shaken up. they couldn't think straight at all, leaving them vulnerable. sanitized cap3 wasn't much different too, she still had some control over herself and she never wanted to fight 8, making the battle between them long and confusing. eventually 8 gave up and walked up to her, ripping the sanitized goop right off her head (which, to cap3, felt like shoving a screwdriver into her eye)

during the inner agent 3 fight, was unconscious, so this was more like a a made-up battle. this 3 (dubbed enigma3) was formed out of cap3's repressed traits of herself and how 8 sees her, rather than being the 3 that 8 saw fight octavio. she's quiet, cold, confusing, and only wants to play mind games with 8. she never really left 8's conscience, but only appears when agent 8 is deathly worried about cap3

after the events of Octo Expansion, 8 absolutely adored marina. they were still a little shy though, so when marina wanted to talk to them they would kind of freak out. marina didn't mind though, and they were able to get to know each other somewhat, with 8 adapting some of marina's traits and behaviors. 8 had nowhere else to go other than sleeping behind crusty sean's food truck and park benches, so pearl let them stay with him and marina for 2 months. after those two months, pearl got in touch with agent 4 via marie (making him fawn all over meeting off the hook) and asked 4 if he could let 8 stay over (since pearl felt like they were watching him in his sleep) and fortunately, 4 said yes

after 8's mind finally clears up they start to question what's wrong with them and feel the weight of overthinking, which sends them spiraling down for the years to come (presumably the effects of tartar messing with their brain). 8 relentlessly questions cap3, rarely leaving her alone, and in turn it affects their relationship with cap3 in a negative way. when asked why they're so curious, 8 goes silent and refuses to answer

(small bit about cap3) cap3 feels like she's at fault for how 8 turned out since they started breaking after OE. she tries to make it up for them but she thinks she's only ruining them. her expectations for herself are set higher and higher, yet nothing she does is good enough. she won't give herself a break, beating herself up over every little detail and being highly critical to the point where she's stuck in a loop of self-destruction and loathing

8 slowly loses their trust in things and those they love, becoming scared and paranoid. it wasn't until side order that this was more prevalent.

in side order (AU), 8 has lost most of their memories, and the moments with the other agents and idols still remain but just barely. 8 is afraid of marina and has a deep dislike for her, but this was due to them not thinking for themself, instead listening to their gut. their brain fog is back more than ever, and whenever they try to walk for prolonged amounts of time they end up stumbling to their knees.

they can no longer tell the difference between reality and fiction. it's all a blur to them. they can feel marina's eyes everywhere. they can barely remember if who or what meant something, anything, to them. though having a deep dislike for marina, they want to be held by her. to be loved like a child. they never ask her of anything, instead just letting it burn into their brain until it breaks them completely. they want attention but they fear they'll be seen as needy and annoying. they want to apologize for everything and be forgiven. 8 doesn't know who is who, they've been copied so much they're just deemed a blank slate to be imprinted on. they watch everything disappear from their hands, unable to do anything about it. from being excited about what's to come in the near future, to being scared about losing the present and wanting to go back to the past

and then here's another little bit about 8 in side order: represents a crumbling mental state, begging for reassurance, desperately trying to hold on to fleeting memories. their trust is lost in everything but they want it all to return to normal, struggling to accept the fact that it never will

then about marina: represents a mother figure somewhat, but even she still fails to live up to that role fully. she distances herself from 8 who is always going after her just to be comforted, yet she denies it for them. she has the same goals as 8, clinging on to the present and never embracing change, but doing so only harms her and others and this behavior continues on and on

+ marina doesn't want to interact with 8 because she sees her younger self in them, she refuses to go back to that era of her life and 8 keeps promising her they'll be what she wanted to be. anything for them to be accepted, to be held in loving arms again. the lack of communication between them makes their relationship even more strained. but clearly marina still cares about 8, they were the only one to be let out of her mind control. she wanted to check on them and make sure they're okay, but what she got in return was someone that hated her

^^ their relationship is basically like this. constantly wanting to communicate with the other but being pushed away, they never fill each other's voids

onto agent 4 and 8... they have a relatively healthy relationship. 4 is 8 (and cap3)'s shoulder to cry on, he always tries his best to help them with whatever. since him and 8 both like off the hook, they'd talk about them non stop. 8 likes to give 4 details about how oth are off-stage since 8 frequently hangs out with them and stuff

4 appears as parallel canon in side order, but instead of other copies of himself, the other robots resemble agent 8 and cap3. they all circle 8 and mock them for forgetting everything about themself and their significant others, much like inner agent 3

nd i don't think i got anything else to say about those 3......that's all^_^ i'm soooo normal i'm normal

[lives4lovesworld]

Truly wish dany/targaryens stans would stop bothering. The amount of daily posts that aim to "counter" or even pander to nonsensical anti bs is excessive and after years quite honestly boring and tedious.

Quite frankly I fail to understand what we gain from this, adhering to a holier-than-thou moral code, especially since no one else is compelled to even pretend to do so? Is the goal here for them be completely distorted to the point they resemble other characters? antis supposed favorites? As uninteresting to us as they subconsciously are to their stans? Which is the real problem here and the reason why they are the way they are (hypocritical stealing clowns and nuisances?) But perhaps I have a completely different less-morality-bound approach to consuming media in my free time than the rest of my fellow stans.

No downplaying/refuting Valyrian blood purity, empathizing non-Valyrian marriages, pointing out the origin of slavery are found in Old Ghis and not the Freehold, no opting for the most gracious interpretation of members of House Targaryen will ever stop antis from painting and hypocritically single out everything Targaryen/Valyrian related as kkk- or "imperialistic" coded or whatever woke buzzword of the day. They live to pretend-clutch their pearls and hold only them to modern standards of a fantastical utopia, while every other feudal character can be as archaic as expected from their pseudomedvial upbringing with their houses being wardlords

Speaking for me, I STAN their blood purity and incest. For me, IT IS a defining characteristic of House Targaryen that makes them unique, no matter how "problematic" it may be. I STAN it because GRRM fabricated scandalous, passionate love stories that I chose to interpret as consensual and politically advantageous, that brought forward incredible, magical gorgeous characters able to ride dragons that inspire love and envy alike. Who shine all the brighter when one contrasts them with literally any other characters and unions that are and breed doomed mediocrity and are born out of stale duty. I perhaps have a bais for pure blooded Targaryens that look the part than any prefect bastards or half breeds, or targ x targ to any other couple.

I also stan cruel Maegor, particularly for showing Oldtown its place and declawing the Militant Faith because I enjoy reading about the presumptuous Christian Vatican equivalent getting its ass handed to them. I stan Rhaenyra and she still can be a pampered proud princess-turned-queen. The same way I prefer canon Daemon as a rogue, an ambitious prince who seduced his brother's heir with perhaps also political hopes in mind and because he wanted his gorgeous niece as a bride instead of his cold barren wife. A legend that slay the pathetic cunt that was his nephew.

And while I'm at it: I also refuse to care about every "likeable"/pitiful character simply because it would be the "morally right" thing to do, nor will I root for the characters I like to do it. I don't care for Helaena and her children, nor the strong boys or any half-considered-"poc" Targaryen, nor will I even pretend to see "reason" in the greens actions, nor do I even want to see Dany "overcome her hatred"/bais against the usurper's dogs and any descendants of them. Or for her to be that altruistic to turn away from the throne to save humanity.

No amount of "call-out-posts" what a misogynist, racist, cultist, classist or elistist I am will change that because why OH WHY should I give a fuck about what anyone online thinks of me. Why should I allow anyone to bully me into streamline my enjoyment?

Especially by the people that do not even have the decorum of pretend to have any sort of decency. So they can use the most misogynistic, classist language and expect submission to their attempts to rule fandom spaces with iron fists and delusions, and canonize their favorites' sainthood and entitlement to feudal supremacy often only because they ✨️suffered prettily✨️ and fit some anesthetics while I must tolerate them trying to scold me into caring so greatly about fictional grey faceless mass of common people that would die were my favorites to pursue their ambitions. Meanwhile the same people would have any would-be-subjects die of famine and cold as long as their favorites get their crowns GRRM would never grant them in canon anyway. Give me a break. And let's not even start on how dragons and incest are suddenly the solutions as long as they don't belong and is not practiced by Targaryens.

To make this clear: this post is NOT a not-so-subtle incognito-anti post of ✨️i lOve all mY wAr CrimInaL eUqally!;' LeT tHeM bE mAd AnD unHinGed uwu,"! love all mY mOderAte chAsTe hoPes Of the fUtUres and mAd imPeriAlistS. 🥰✨️

I simply wanted to say; perhaps we should NOT GIVE A FUCK, "own" the """""bad""""" and be "problematic" and "irrational" in our selective love for characters and houses like EVERYBODY FUCKING ELSE.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Ok, so starting with Jimmy, my thoughts are mainly based on the animatic and less of Jimmy as a character. Essentially I view him as the person who tries to die in order to save the ones he cares about, and he does over and over again. (I view him as doing this in order to show the inevitability of death each season to try to get his allies to not be complacent in the games) But the part that I think is interesting that no one seems to talk about, is that he fails every time. In third life, his death caused Scott to die trying to avenge him, in Last Life, Martyn died trying to make a deal with a watcher to save him, Double Life doesn't work as well, but you could say that his death caused Tango to die of grief. Then in limited life, Jimmy dies in the exact way that Grian is going to die, but his warning is completely useless and Grian dies in the exact same ways anyways. (I headcanon that this made him finally realize that his deaths were meaningless and the "curse" ends). My thoughts on Pearl started later and kind of build off these thoughts with Jimmy (also kind of based on the posts bigb enthusiast and mapleejay made on nosy neighbors canary in a coal mine). Pearl in Limited Life and Secret Life is desperately trying to be the "canary", using her death in order to save her allies and let them win. In limited life she does this literally with BigB, repeatedly giving him her time. However, she fails as a canary, she outlives the coal miner. Then in Secret Life she has new allies and makes the same promise to them, that she will do anything to get them to win. But then again they all die before her. But then there's scar. Pearl desperately clings to the idea that Scar can be the one that she saves with her death, she makes him an honorary mounder, and then tries to sacrifice herself to him before the final fight but he refuses. Then they win the fight and are the only two left. (next part is mainly headcanony) So then Pearl is left here in the same position Scott was, able to finally sacrifice herself to let her ally win. But Scar doesn't give her time, he immediately betrays her, because he was never a mounder, that was just Pearl desperately needing someone to save. And so she is killed by Scar unable to save anyone

You and I have completely different interpretations of what a canary is (partially why I don't generally vibe with canary Jimmy), and also who Life!Jimmy is, but this is really cool!

For me, Jimmy isn't a canary because, and I'm not saying this to be mean but it's true, his deaths are kind of meaningless. Or maybe not meaningless, but they don't teach anyone anything other than people are going to start perma-dying. This may be a deep pull, but if you watch RPDR or Survivor, there's always a moment when the first person has gone home and someone says, like, "Well it's gotten real now" because even if you know someone has to go first, it's still a hard thing.

Jimmy isn't dying on purpose, and his deaths are ultimately meaningless once the actual blood bath starts and people start killing each other vs his deaths which are accidents or to mobs. Maybe crow is a better bird for him honestly, or raven. A bad omen. The tragedy of Life!Jimmy is that, well, he just keeps getting screwed over by small mistakes that kill him. Letting go of shift for a second or looking an enderman in the eye or not choosing the right path to avoid a warden. He's the universe's punching bag.

Pearl is very specifically a canary in Wild Life because her deaths are warnings. Don't shift near edges because the hit boxes are wonky and you'll fall, don't try to put a shield up because you'll eat your weapon, the snails can instamine blocks and leap over one block gaps. She's not dying on purpose, but her deaths are meaningful. She will be useful, in life or death. She must be. I don't really see Canary!Pearl for the other life series. Yes, she sacrifices herself to give BigB time, but if that's canary criteria, so are Skizz and Scott.

I also don't necessarily see what Scar did as a betrayal. There's two of them left, only one can win. Pearl expressed repeatedly that she didn't want to win, she wanted one of the other Mounders to win. By making Scar a last minute honorary Mounder, she has a duty to lose to him. Yes, she technically didn't sacrifice herself, but I don't think she was fighting to win. Someone who's fighting to win doesn't tell their opponent about the zombie behind them. They don't ignore the golden apple in their hot bar. Hell, she only even got one hit in on Gem because she wanted to step away and let Scar beat Gem himself.