#toby you have gold in your hands. literal gold!!!

[ophanstears]

I only enjoyed it as a crackship at first but honestly if krerdly somehow became canon I would enjoy it a lot. like a WHOLE lot. Mainly because it would be really funny.

Also because Berdly is like. Deltarune's best character hands down and his dynamic with Kris is PEAK. Nothing would be better than him getting a crush on them and absolutely hating it but getting flustered and then he starts beating around the bush whenever they hang out.

I do not take any opinions on this btw, it WOULD be peak.

[erimeows]

Sapphire & Gold

The moon sings a song of pale light and soft wind as Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki walk through the outskirts of Kirigakure, their sandals plip-plopping against the puddles that litter the grassland they’re trekking through. Kisame has the incapacitated body of their target on his back; some sort of Kirigakure politician that was getting in the way of Tobi’s work. They’re trying to get to a safe place to dispose of the body with Itachi’s crows where no one will stumble across them. 

Eventually, they get to part of the forest where they’re surrounded by enough trees and fog that Itachi feels secure to do the disposal. So, they do, and as their target is ripped to shreds and consumed by the birds, he glances over at Kisame.

The older man is covered in blood from head to toe and doesn’t seem to mind it. The rusty grime mats in his indigo locks and crusts over his sapphire skin, tainting him, but his golden eyes seem to glow against the dull night with the adrenaline and dopamine that rushes through his veins.

And oddly enough, he looks more beautiful than ever; in his element, covered in rain and in blood, his hands scraped to shreds and his cloak torn and stained from the fight against their target’s bodyguards.

Itachi doesn’t blush, and he doesn’t fawn, because he knows Kisame is smart enough to pick up on those things if he dares to let his composure slip. So, Itachi commits the image to memory and looks away instead, even as anger dares to consume him- yes, that’s the emotion that he feels when he and Kisame are alone like this; anger. Itachi is angry. He’s angry that, were he partnered with literally anyone else in the Akatsuki, he could have stayed to himself and refused to fall for anyone before his inevitable death, angry that after a life of shoving everything and everyone away, he allowed Kisame to melt his icy composure so easily.

He remembers the first day they met. He was sitting on the edge of a dock overlooking the ocean when Kisame approached and introduced himself. 

“I’ll be teaming up with you starting today. I’m Kisame Hoshigaki, formerly of the Hidden Mist; one of the seven ninja swordsmen,” A basic introduction, but nothing special. Itachi didn’t bother turning around at the time, too entranced by the shadows of the sharks that swam in the water below. They danced around each other so gracefully back then. “So pleased to make your acquaintance… And you are Itachi Uchiha, formerly of the Hidden Leaf. I’ve heard the rumors that you slaughtered all of your fellow Uchiha clansmen. I think that we’re alike, you and I. That’s the reason I wanted to be teamed with you in the Akatsuki. It’s really indescribable, isn’t it? Killing your comrades is quite the sensation, wouldn’t you say so, Itachi?”

Itachi had been offended at the time by both the implication that he was a stonecold killer who delighted in murdering his comrades and by the way Kisame so easily talked about killing people. At the same time, though, he’d been utterly entranced. 

“You talk a lot. You don’t understand me; you don’t even understand yourself,” Itachi spat, looking over his shoulder. He remembers not being able to control that urge to blush at the mere sight of Kisame back then; his cheeks had burned bright red, so he’d been forced to face the water again even though all he wanted was to stare into Kisame’s golden eyes. Fearful and fresh off of what he’d done to his clan, Itachi resorted to insults. “You’re just a thug who got lost in the mist and ended up here. You can’t even control where you’re going. Am I wrong?”

“Do you want to know something interesting? Most sharks are ovoviviparous, which means that the eggs hatch inside the female’s body before the young are born. However, with some kinds of sharks, the number of eggs that hatch will differ from the number of young that emerge from the mother’s belly. Do you know why that is?” Kisame asked, but Itachi said nothing because no, he hadn’t known; sharks were never seen back in Konohagakure. Kisame answered the question for him after a few minutes. “Because of cannibalism. Right from the moment they hatch, they start eating each other inside their mother’s uterus. The fratricidal warfare begins as soon as they’re born. To each shark, all the others are just food to be eaten. Starting today, you are an Akatsuki member and my companion, so be wary… Of me.”

Itachi activated his Sharingan, not to fight or to intimidate, but to lock the moment in his memory for eternity; something he now regrets. He only did it because he was so terribly entranced by the way his heart started to skip beats like never before, so he could encapsulate the fear and the curiosity and the obsession.

“Same goes for you.”

“Now, let’s be friends and have some fun, alright?” Kisame had put a hand on his shoulder, so cold and firm. “And hope that we will not end up as each other’s final opponents.”

“No one who dares to raise a hand against a comrade ever dies a decent death,” Itachi stood, trying to avoid Kisame’s gaze. Perhaps he assumed that he would run the risk of Kisame seeing through him if their eyes met. He still tries to avoid eye contact with the man to this day for that very reason. “Remember that.”

“Well, that means our fates are sealed; you and I are depraved and worthless.”

“Not true. We’re both human- not fish,” Itachi murmured, sounding much more sure of himself than he actually was that day. He wanted to convince himself that Kisame was more human than monster. He still tries to. “No matter who you are, you do not truly know what kind of man you’ve become until you reach the very end. One realizes one’s true nature at the moment of death. Don’t you think that’s what death is about?”

With that, he’d left, unable to shake the feeling of Kisame’s hand on his shoulder. 

Even though his feet knew the path he should’ve taken back then, he has since walked alongside Kisame in the dark without giving a single thought as to where it might lead. 

And all the empty rooms- the homes of the Jinchuriki they’ve captured, the hotels they’ve stayed in, the little tea shops they’ve lingered in for too long for some sense of normalcy- they- Itachi- could have left the Akatsuki at any time and chosen to go anywhere else. Instead, Itachi made a bed with his apathy and followed the orders of his village to get intel from the S-Rank organization, and Kisame continued on his path of darkness with Itachi by his side.

Clearing his head of the painful memories, Itachi peers down at the body before them. He dispels the crows and watches Kisame scatter what’s left of the teeth and bones deep underneath the earth. It’s a disturbing sight, even after everything they’ve done. The death never seems to become any easier to witness- or to cause. Itachi averts his eyes and continues to walk down the dark path they’ve grown used to.

Kisame follows behind. The lull of their usual silence, however, is broken by Kisame, whose voice is barely audible over the rain that begins to pour over them.

“Itachi… You’ve been off lately,” Kisame starts, and Itachi thinks that might be it- a simple voicing of Kisame’s concern that he can brush off like the rest, which has been a frequent occurrence since his illness has gotten worse. Much to his surprise, Kisame continues. “I think we need to talk about it.”

“I think we’re fine,” Itachi says. Even he can’t deny how his voice shakes despite how he tries to remain calm. As he gets closer and closer to his death, his emotions get more and more potent. “Let’s move on, yes?”

At this point, Kisame tends to drop the subject, but this time, he grabs Itachi by the wrist.

“No,” Kisame insists. His fingers, cold and firm like they were the day they met, squeeze around Itachi’s wrist, which is much thinner than it was back then. Itachi doesn’t dare turn to face him. He’s scared that, if he does, he’ll finally break after so many years of keeping himself together for the sake of not pushing this thing that they have until it breaks. “I’m serious. I’m sick of always moving on from the things we need to talk about. You know I’m not one to dampen the mood like this, but neither of us should pretend that things haven’t changed lately. Do you seriously expect me to ignore what’s been going on between us?”

Itachi’s heart knows the weight of continuing to ignore his feelings, but that’s what he’s grown used to. Ever since he was little, he was forced to shove down everything he felt and keep a straight, calm face- for the sake of the clan, for the sake of Sasuke, for the sake of the village, and now, for the sake of Kisame and for the sake of the Akatsuki. After over ten years worth of dust and neglect, his heart is beyond trying to explore the depths of. 

Why not just keep shoving everything down until he dies? That’s all he knows, anyway.

Itachi tries to pull away, but Kisame holds him firm. He debates on using his Sharingan before deciding against it. He needs it for his inevitable fight with Sasuke, and the more he uses it, the less time he has left. So he turns to look at Kisame and attempt to convince him to let go, but when he does, Kisame is staring at him like they’re human. Not monsters, not murderers, just two human men; two true comrades.

“Don’t you dare look at me that way,” He commands, too overpowered by his emotions to think better of it. “Not after everything we’ve done.”

At one point, perhaps even just before Kisame decided to open this Pandora’s box, Itachi thought he’d made peace with his weariness and let it be. Now, flames of raw emotion feel like they’re licking up his body and melting his icy exterior before their very eyes. He despises how Kisame has made him feel all of these things so suddenly- it’s almost as if he has been hoarding parts of Itachi that the Uchiha himself didn’t know existed before now.

“Why? Are you going to stop me, Itachi? You can’t deny the tension that’s been boiling between us,” Kisame smiles. His sharp teeth shine a brilliant white underneath the beams of moonlight that peek through the storm clouds. Itachi’s heart skips a beat, just like it did back then. He hates himself for it. “I’ll stop if you tell me what the problem is. We’re comrades, remember?”

He loves Kisame like the sun- he has since the start, boring the shadows that the older man always seemed to make with no light of his own. Aside from Sasuke, Kisame has been the only thing to keep him going through illness, violence, and trauma. 

“The problem is that you make me want things I can’t have,” Itachi confesses, his composure finally faltering.

Itachi thinks of all the things they could have had- anything else, any other life, with peace and love. If it were another life, they could have been normal people who met under normal circumstances and fell in love. He sees how Kisame looks at him; he knows that the very tension Kisame mentioned is very much there, so thick between them that he could cut through it with a kunai if he were to acknowledge his presence. 

“Like what?”

“If you must know,” Itachi clears his throat and trains his eyes on the muddy ground. He doesn’t even pause to consider it. He’s going to die soon, so why not do this? Why not ruin everything in his wake? Kisame is practically begging for him to do so. “Love and trust and all of those other meaningless things we left behind when we abandoned our villages so long ago- when they abandoned us.”

“Abandoned? I like to think of it as freed,” Kisame quips, his grin growing. He’s braver than Itachi in how he reaches forward with his spare hand to rest it on Itachi’s cheek. This man, this killer, caresses his face like it’s fragile glass. Sweet. Gentle. Words that no one else would use to describe Kisame or his actions. They’re the only ones who know each other like this. “And you can have those things alongside our lifestyle, whether you believe it or not.”

“Don’t you think that’s cruel?” Itachi asks. The rain that streams down his face allows him to cry. The tears blend in with the water seamlessly. “We both know I’m going to die soon.”

“Life has been cruel to the both of us regardless, why not let this be the cherry on top? It’s as they say, it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”

“I can’t say I agree with that sentiment,” Itachi replies with a frown.

He snatches his hand away. This time, Kisame lets him. It seems as if he’s gotten what he wanted from Itachi; an admission of guilt. 

The two men continue to walk in the rain. Itachi hopes that will be enough, but within minutes, Kisame is talking again.

“So, Itachi… Why me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re attractive. So, out of everyone, why would you love a monster like me?”

Itachi pauses. Then, he answers. 

“Because I, too, am a monster.”

“Then wouldn’t you say we belong together?”

“No, Kisame, I’m more monstrous than you could ever dream of being. Unlike me, you still have a shred of humanity left,” Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not. Itachi isn’t sure. Neither of them are quite monsters, but neither of them are quite human either. They’re somewhere in between, in a state of limbo that only the two of them could ever understand. “We don’t belong together. We never have.”

“Are you saying our partnership never should’ve happened?”

“Precisely. We both… We both would’ve been better off that way.”

The rain seems to settle into a light sprinkle as the two approach a stream. Wordlessly, they undress, knowing that they should wash their light wounds and get the blood off of their bodies before anything gets infected. Neither of them bat an eye at each other. It’s practically a post-battle routine now.

“Well, we can’t go back in time, and if you really do feel the same way, I’m not going to give up on you,” Kisame sinks into the water. For the first time, Itachi dares to look at him; dewy sapphire skin, soft gills, hard and defined muscle. Kisame is big and brawny, the exact opposite of Itachi, who feels small in comparison. The ravenette knows he’s slowly wasting away into nothing but pale, cracked skin coiled around increasingly visible and fragile bone. He’s not just small in comparison- no, he’s nothing in comparison to this man. “I want to feel the fire that you’ve kept from me, Itachi.”

The words stab through Itachi like swords to the pit of his belly. Kisame looks back at Itachi, who is awkwardly holding his Akatsuki robes in front of himself instead of getting into the lukewarm Kirigakure water.

“I won’t let you feel it. I’d burn you, after all,” Itachi finally responds after remaining silent for far too long. He tries to disregard Kisame’s prying golden eyes as he drops his robes and gets into the water a couple feet away from him. He manages to find some comfort on a smooth rock. The current is soft and clear. “As many threats as I’ve made over the years, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, Kisame.”

“Look at you, being a coward. What’s new? You’re always running away; running from your village, from your remaining family, from the enemies we face. You always err on the side of caution even though you chose this path just as I chose mine,” Kisame criticizes, criticizes, criticizes. Something he’s always been good at. Itachi doesn’t even dignify it, just lets it roll off of him in tangent with the stream’s water. “Name your courage now and take a risk for once, will you? I’m getting tired of how predictable you’re becoming.”

He manages to swallow his doubt, if only for tonight. He knows it’ll be one of the last before he has to face Sasuke. 

“How’s this for predictable?” Itachi asks and moves through the water so he can sit closer to Kisame. Kisame stares over at him. This time, Kisame’s the one who’s blushing. His cheeks are dusted purple and he looks at Itachi with measured curiosity. Itachi revels in the way Kisame’s body tenses with anticipation when he reaches forward, only to drag water over his muscles to wash off the blood. “Not what you were expecting, was it? If you’re so insistent, I’ll cease my running away for now, Kisame.”

“Then come,” Kisame grabs Itachi by the hips and pulls him closer. Itachi offers the biggest smile he can muster and continues to wash the blood off of his partner. Their bodies, worn and rough, seem to mold together within the flow of the stream. Golden eyes burn into charcoal ones. “Come and burn me to ashes, Itachi.”

“If that’s what you want, I suppose I have no choice but to indulge you for now.”

Itachi acquiesces against his better judgment and, within seconds, Kisame is grabbing him by the face and locking their lips together in a silent promise.

[prof-peach]

:0 I've never seen the other Pokemon on your team, what are they like?

My perma-team is a vulpix, Valka, a 20+ year old heavy hitter, despite her small stature. She was my very first pokemon, through gritted teeth we bonded, and now I fondly refer to her as my shadow. I go no where without her. She puts everyone who resides on the island in their place with unnerving strength. like literally any comic she's somewhere in the background, if not underfoot. Not hard to find more art of her, she is quite menacing.

Then we have Booker, Teddiursa, silly old grumpy bear. He had a hard time with poachers when he was real young, and imprinted on me during my ranger days many years ago now. He doesn't want to evolve, wears an everstone bead on his tail. He's partially blind on one side but we hiked to a colony of Machop and trained with them in the mountains for months to help him regain balance and confidence! He seems grouchy but is actually sweet.

Then we got Minerva, a shiny lopunny i nabbed at an airport when i was quite young, from a bad breeder. she was a scabby weedy flea infested runt when we first met, hardly the pink colour you'd usually expect from her type. She is fierce and fearless, will jump head first into anything with confidence and style. Loves to dress up, steals a lot of my nicer clothes. Will smash you into bits if you cross her, a total diva and i'd change nothing.

you've no doubt recently noticed the posts about Boadicea, a CharizardXGarchomp hybrid who's the baby of the group. Needy, clingy, total idiot, lap pokemon despite her ridiculous size. Very fast mount for flying.

For ground travel i use a dear Stantler called Donut, he's rather docile if you're not a problem to his "herd", with a neck so thick and strong you can hold onto his antlers and be lifted with ease. He's very chill.

We got a delivery Noctowl whos been around the block with me a few times too, lil guys really friendly, no real name for him, we all just call him 'Fancy pants' or 'dude'. hes got fancy eyebrows.

Of course not forgetting Quintin, a Scizor, my first egg hatch ever, been with me since i was a real youngster, a gentle soft sweet boy with a heart of gold, and collectively about 4 braincells. We all adore him.

then theres the house pokemon, each of these has blurb in the blog somewhere, they're all rather naughty... except Bob and Rosco. They're a delight.

uhhh lets see, this rat is always under my feet.

And then theres the pokemon who are out and about. the team mates who do jobs around the island, usually maintaining the peace.

Theres also 3 Bronzong that hang about the island,

Some notable partners from my various travels and adventures would iniclude

Dutch - Porygon-Z (helps around the lab, very loving, bit mad)

Typhlosion - Propane (odd markings, a spicy meatball)

Grimm - Steelix (real docile, very into scratches)

Riot - Lycanroc/midnight (Fiery, naughty, likes to thrash)

Suneater - Golisopod (shy, kind and very smart, loves to be alone)

Jewel - Ribombee (mean tempered! fussy)

Wotsit - Vikavolt (real clingy and super curious, to a fault)

Hemlock - Heracross - (a total babe, really protective and jolly)

Potato - -Bulbasaur (strict but fair, very old)

Murdoc - Crobat (timid in the light, proud of his speed)

Sugar - Tyranitar (Soft baby lady, total gentle giant)

Summer - Meganium (variant lady, gentle, calming aura, healer)

Tobi - Dreadnaw (rare water type for me, he's always sleeping)

Moss - Stonjourner (covered in moss, aptitude for grass attacks)

Zeplin - Aerodactyl (old battle maiden, now retired to the mountains)

Madam - Eldegoss - (will try to poison you, shiny, total nuisance)

I must admit, i often am one to release pokemon back to the wild, but the ones mentioned here are pokemon who have had the option to leave, and have chosen to stick around (apart from Madam who is a liability if left to go free), at least for now. We've been on many adventures together, and now work side by side managing the island. I have yet to draw them all but theres at least some visuals here for you. This also doesn't include pokemon who are residents at the lab and its facilities, who like our company but are not technically registered to myself or any of the staff. We breed all kinds of grass types, and they're all pretty friendly give or take, so if we have a certain job that needs more hands, we can call upon the residents who suit the work. Many of them have been through treatment or rehab with us, and we've built up a relationship with them, enough to work well together.

[ttte-in-the-sky-au]

Lore dump at 00:08am? Hell yea! Anyway-

TW: Death, blood (represented), mentions of murder and suicide

I've been doing some thinking recently, mainly about the absolute fuckton of spirits around Sodor and how they even exist and stuff. So I decided to do this post about that in the middle of the night!

-So how (or rather why) do spirits exist in this universe?

The answer is rather simple, at least to me: those who die before their time's up for whatever reason (let that be murder, an accident, or """"""science"""""", which is literally the same as murder but felt like I should mention it-) come back to the island as spirits, normally until they were supposed to die of natural causes. Mind you, Wingmen live many times longer than us, regular humans, so this could be centuries, maybe even millenia! When a spirit reaches this set date, they can choose to go on to the afterlife or stay in the mortal world. Most choose to move on, but there are those who stayed.

-What do these spirits look like?

There is no set "look" for a spirit, as their premature death dictates their appearance. For instance, Proteus and Godred (Also Timothy and Rusty's ghost engine, but I haven't drawn them yet lol-)

No, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you, Proteus is literally just a floating head. I won't go too much into detail about his death, as that's a big fat spoiler, but to summarize: he was cut up by someone. This included being decapitated, which is actually what caused his death, therefore, his head is all that's left of him.

He chose to stay on Sodor to help those like him find a place in this strange purgatory of sorts before they can move on to the afterlife.

Another great example of death affecting appearance is Godred, whose whole left side is constantly fading into gold dust, due to his accident absolutely fucking it all up beyond repair, but it wasn't all cut off, which is why the gold dust still somewhat resembles a humanoid figure.

No one knows why he's still on Sodor, as he could've moved on a long, long time ago. But he's still among the living.

General trivia:

-Spirits and the living can and do interact, mainly Edward, Toby, Skarloey and Lady.

-Lady is quite literally god of this universe, responsibile for looking after the many spirits of the island and help them move on to the afterlife. She also has a say in who lives and who dies. Lady herself is immortal.

-Spirits are often found lingering around where they died, trying to get any passerby to help find their remains, hoping this could somehow help them come back to life. (This isn't possible in this AU as of september 16th, 2022, but I'm not completely sure yet. Stay tuned, just in case I change my mind!)

-If you paid attention to the artworks of Proteus and Godred, you might've noticed that their eyes are different! While Proteus' are pure gold, Godred's are black, both oozing gold dust, almost like tears.

This is because a spirit's eyes say a lot about the life they lived and their intent as a spirit.

Proteus lived a good life, even if it was a short one and now wants to do nothing but help others in a situation similar to his own.

Godred, on the other hand, didn't live the best life, to say the least. He was arrogant, boastful, egotistical and selfish. Nowadays, no one know what he exactly wants, but pretty safe to say that he's not on the island for the same reason as Proteus.

-How would suicide affect a spirit's appearance and eyes?

Suicide usually takes form in smaller scars, depending on how one took their own life. Their eyes still work the same way, being pure gold if they lived a good life, being a good person and have good intentions as a spirit, and they're black otherwise.

——————————————————————

Special thanks to @fabianvalencia561, @new-york-central-guy, @trainqueen379 and @ladychandraofthemoone for helping out with some of the concepts explained above! (Mainly the eyes)

[onebizarrekai]

minimalist reaction comp for deltarune ch 2

I stayed up until 4:30am last night to beat it here we go

susie is the best character. no not the best character in the game literally just the best character

can I just say that I absolutely love kris and susie’s dynamic? like it’s just… weird creepy kid meets shady school bully and they become unlikely friends and now they commit crimes together

this game inadvertently making fun of my chronic inability to remember which one is east and which one is west

yes

susie is the best character: part 2

I appreciate this

ralsei the other darkners turn into objects when they leave the dark world. how the heck did you get over here

berdly is actively the most cursed possible person and it’s painful comedy gold

he’s actually such a pain to fight and you have to fight him so many times. not only is he a cherd but he’s BRUTAL

freakin big shot guy. even kris took a step back when he mentioned that they have a ‘heart-shaped object’ and I’m a little afraid too

thanks berdly

WHO

love how this man disappeared even though he came with you, got kicked out of this establishment and is actually still here. and he is a pirate. god he just. yes

I flipped off the camera by the way

GOD.

toby fox still finding ways to make berdly even more cursed

yes

determination…………

his stupid. car. his stupid c a r

thanks rouxls

dude everyone like went dead silent right before this. they were like in a moment and ralsei is just like haha whatever let’s go seal the fountain!

can I just say that ralsei is literally so suspicious? I don’t trust him at all. how did he get to the cyber world on his own? why is his kingdom the only one that gets to stay? why does he say stuff like “you know kris it’s kinda nice to be alone with you without susie :)”

“I’LL CONCENTRATE ALL MY BERDLY POWER TO CREATE A NEW FOUNTAIN TO CRAFT A PERFECT WORLD OUT OF DARKNESS”

and like ralsei goes off about the roaring (finally, some new information, now there’s apparently an apocalypse legend) because everyone is like “actually the dark world is better? why don’t we just make a new fountain and make our own world” and ralsei is like “what do you mean you’ve never heard of the roaring” it’s like RALSEI why are you the only person who has heard of this

I am STILL suspicious. I’m skeptical about my own theory that ralsei is asriel despite the anagram just because I feel like ralsei is a very romo coded character towards kris but that aside I’M VERY SUSPICIOUS

ralsei literally walks around with his hand behind his back. he just exudes suspicious aura

everyone says that the knight came around and the rulers haven’t been the same since… I’m just like… there’s so much information that isn’t THERE

edit: also. ralsei is the only darkner that knows the layout of your school. like why does he know that the darkners turned into objects

sans

I was like oh god where’s kris goin

see. now we have actually seen kris put their soul BACK. it’s not like their soul just magnets back into their body against their will. I’m very interested

also the doors south of town… what happened to kris there in the past

kris slashes the tires of their own car for a reason that I’m still trying to understand

and then THIS happened, love that I was right about kris making the fountains once I heard about the knight with determination stabbing the earth to make a fountain from the queen I was like hmmmmm

I already had a theory that kris was responsible for the creation of the dark world and this kinda just goes right along with it

I would say that they were trying to stop susie and toriel from leaving when they slashed the tires but everything in town is within walking distance

AND THIS, whatever that is

I messed up and accidentally saved over my file after destroying the cyber world fountain, so I didn’t get to fight the superboss, but I think I’m going to be playing the whole thing again with my sister in a day or so anyway, so I’ll probably get around to that then.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Juliet Survives in This Chapter One: Death

Claire sealed herself in the Shadow Realm with Morgana in order to save the world.

These are five ways she survived despite all the efforts of her worst enemy.

Hello, everyone! It has been literal years since I first posted Juliet Dies in This, and I am finally posting the parallel fic about Claire! We got Wizards and a movie that won’t have any relevance to this wonderful, horrible story that is Rated M for Death and Violence.

Content/Spoiler warnings for the chapter: implied/referenced dismemberment, temporary POV character death, suicidal thoughts, self harm, flogging

AO3

FFN

Claire steeled herself. If this went wrong at all, she’d be dead. But if she didn’t try, they’d all be dead.

As it was, Jim was already dead. The blast had been meant to kill four of them, so of course he was dead.

“Die, witch!” Claire screamed as she tackled Morgana through a portal into the Shadow Realm.

Disembodied, hollow, see-through, numb –

Claire took hold of the staff and ripped a portal back to the bridge over the canal.

“Break the staff!” Claire shouted, grabbing it from where it was slung across her back and throwing it towards her friends. Golden chains reached for the staff, but they wrapped around Claire’s abdomen instead. Blinky grabbed Claire’s arms as a second chain wrapped around her torso.

Three more golden chains wrapped themselves around Claire. One chain wrapped itself around her ankles. That one wouldn’t do as much harm as the others since Claire wasn’t kicking at Morgana in her attempt at escape. One chain wrapped itself around her upper arms and chest, ripping her arms away from Blinky’s. The last chain wrapped itself around her neck. It hovered around her, loose, more like a waiting noose than a chokehold.

Blinky was backlit by purple light as Toby destroyed the staff, and he reached towards Claire again. Claire’s lips parted, ready to scream, as the portal closed on his outstretched arm.

Her neck snapped before she could scream.

Claire closed her eyes, knowing she had several seconds left from one of Mr. Strickler’s history lessons on the French Revolution.

What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips.

At least she’d be with Jim.

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make me die with a restorative.

Draal and Vendel, too.

Thy lips are warm. Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger, this is thy sheath. There rust and –

“Did you really think I’d let you die?” Morgana sneered at Claire.

There were chains around Claire’s arms and legs, all keeping her flush against the wall. Claire could barely rotate her wrists. She wanted to reach up and touch her neck.

Her neck must have been in better shape than Claire had thought. Whiplash, like Claire had looked behind herself as the car got rear-ended. It couldn’t have snapped. She couldn’t have died.

She was supposed to have died.

“Now, I was planning on bringing Merlin to the brink of death, over and over again, and only healing him enough so I could torture him again,” Morgana said. She floated to Claire, hovering so close that Claire was made fully aware of just how short she was compared to Morgana.

“I’d do that until I could figure out which way I wanted his final death to occur.” Morgana’s claws closed around the crystal, and she yanked. Gold cracks appeared all over Claire’s armor, and then her armor glowed purple as it was sucked into the crystal. A fearful whimper escaped Claire’s lips.

“But of course, you and your friends took that away from me.” Morgana frowned, and then she smiled. She transferred the crystal from her right hand to her prosthetic. “Now, here’s the thing. I had no connection to Merlin’s soul. His magic, yes, but not his soul. But you?”

“I… I broke the connection,” Claire stammered.

The slap didn’t hurt as much as the way Morgana’s claws raked across Claire’s cheek a moment afterwards.

“You weakened it, but your hubris has been your undoing all along. That connection between us will last for all of time. I don’t care if you remember the way it hurt when your neck broke. I will kill you every way I can, and even death will not be your sanctuary, because I can always bring you back.”

Claire had lost track of all the ways she had died. Starving, organs being ripped out, hanging from her wrists, getting slammed into large objects…

They all blurred together. Some part of Claire knew that they couldn’t have logically all have happened all at once. But, she had no way of remembering the order, or how many times each way had happened. There was Now, there was the infinite and infinitesimal moment where everything that was after losing her armor happened, and there was Before. Before Morgana had taken Claire’s armor. Before Claire had died for the first time. Before she had tackled Morgana. Before Claire had been possessed. Before she made the giant portal. Before she ever laid eyes on the Shadow Staff. Before was a million lifetimes ago.

Now was getting her back flayed open. Claire couldn’t fully remember if she had been whipped before, or if she just had déjà vu. Or, of course, there was the possibility that five seconds ago was no longer Now and had been tossed into the blur.

It didn’t matter. Her back hurt.

Her throat hurt, too. Every time Morgana had broken Claire’s neck, she had healed it. But Morgana didn’t heal Claire’s throat from screaming, because screaming had not yet killed her.

Claire didn’t want the pain. She didn’t want to scream. And so, she bit her lips together.

Whimpers escaped her bitten-together lips each time Morgana brought down her golden whips onto Claire’s back. Claire squeezed her eyes and bit her lips harder. Staying silent caused her to tense. Her muscles were all the more primed to be struck because they hurt more when taught and expecting the blow, but she didn’t want to scream. Eventually, Claire fell silent. She continued to bite her lips together. Each time Morgana’s whip raked across her back, Claire bit her lips a little tighter. Eventually, the pain on her back got so bad that she sucked her cheeks into her mouth and bit those too. She didn’t want to scream, not again.

Claire didn’t realize that Morgana had stopped flaying her back open until the Pale Lady was in front of her, grabbing Claire’s face between her clawed fingers. Claire stayed silent and glared.

“So, you’re going to be like that? Fine.”

Morgana walked away from where Claire was being kept, causing the area to go dark.

Claire peeled her lips from her teeth, blood spilling from the wounds and mixing with her saliva. There was a new source of pain, yes, but that wasn’t what caused silent tears to form in her eyes.

She hadn’t died. She had resisted, and she hadn’t died.

Some broken shadow of a smile slowly formed on Claire’s face, and with it came a faint purple glow.

Author’s note: Is Jim actually dead, or does Claire just think he is? If you have read Juliet Dies in This, you already know. If you haven't, well, just wait and see 😉 (or go find out for yourself by reading that fic.)

All the italicized paragraphs were written by Shakespeare (except for the four-word flashback).

[lovelylogans]

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

prologue: (re)birth

see next chapters, notes, and warnings here!

“We all experience many births and deaths in a life.” —Jonas Maliki, Sense8 

EMILE

Emile Picani has always loved children, but, as a cis man, he had generally contented himself with the fact that a woman would eventually bear them (as he pieced together the whole oops, all gay! thing in his mid-to-late teens, he mentally altered that to through surrogacy) or that he would adopt children with a loving partner someday.

He had really been very, very content with the idea of never giving birth. He had been perfectly fine with the idea of never giving birth. He would really, really love it if he were not giving birth right now. But as it is—

“Does psychic birth count as birth?” Linda asks, tilting her head; she’d chopped off her hair in her kitchen a month ago, so now it swishes along her jaw. The loss of a foot of hair doesn’t mean her hair is any more tamed than it was when it was waist-length, back when they’d first seen each other face-to-face.

Emile moans in pain, rolling face-down onto the couch to press his face into the cushions, blocking out all light; the pressure and ache behind his eyes that’s been mounting for days is almost as bad as it had been when he’d been born. Reborn. 

Sensate birth is so confusing.

The weight of another member of his cluster dips the couch cushion near his feet.

“I would be this close to leaving if the call to visit wasn’t so strong,” Andy groans, and then the sound of someone hitting him; Missy, he’s sure.

“He is having our weird psychic niblings,” she scolds from where she sits beside Andy. “We need to be here and support him while he’s in the birthing bed, as moral support!”

“Not actual birth,” Emile groans into his couch cushion.

“Hey, Emi,” she continues, ignoring him, “you can’t tell if one of them is in Greece yet, can you? Try and aim for one in Heraklion, I never get to go to Crete and I want to go sightseeing!”

“Or Manila!” Linda calls. “But that’s more for my convenience than a vacation.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t pick where you’ve got your psycellium-connection children, but if you do, aim for Brazil for me so I can meet one,” Nate says, with a hand still awkwardly on Emile’s back in an attempt to comfort him, and Emile is so grateful to him for being with him through the whole of this psychic labor he could cry.

Well. He’s pretty sure he’s already crying from the pain, but.

“Do they count as children?” Andy says, then, “well, I guess you don’t know how old they are yet, do you. It could be a super early activation, so you could end up with a bunch of kids. Or, wait, hey, how funny would it be if you ended up just plucking late activations from retirement homes?”

Emile reaches blindly for the nearest cushion to block his ears. He can tell through feeling that it’s the Mickey Mouse one, but even as he places it over his head the texture skitters under his fingers—a pen, a soft blanket, thick paper, a cold glass sweating with condensation, back to a cushion—and he goes about blocking out Linda and Missy’s chattering about hoping one of them is in their respective countries, so they can be the weird psychic aunties they’d always been meant to be.

Another voice that manages to actually startles him this time, and blurrily, barely comprehensible beyond the pain, he thinks that should probably be how he knows the birth is close: ever since they’d all gained some form of equilibrium, after their own birth nearly ten years ago now, he’s never, ever been startled by the appearance of one of his cluster, ever.

“Ditto on telling me if you end up getting a Canadian,” Brian says, and Emile manages to peek out from his cushion to see Brian crouched on the floor in front of him, beside Nate, smiling at him as if nothing’s wrong, even though he can feel Brian’s nerves roiling alongside his own. “B'ezras Hashem, they won’t end up with only Missy as an auntie, eh?”

He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against the pain, then, the pressure behind his eyes unbearable, like all the water of a dam pressing unerringly against the littlest crack, waiting for it to burst.

“Where the hell are you, Remy,” he can hear Toby snarl—when did Toby get here?—and Nate’s hand rubs soothingly up and down his back, shushing Toby.

“Of all the days to take a blocker off-schedule,” Andy tsks. “You should all listen to me, we knew that could be a worst-case scenario—”

“Not his fault,” Emile chokes out—if this could be equitable to normal, human baby birth, Emile might think that the stress of Remy catching sight of someone entering his café and immediately blocking them all out before anyone else could notice might have been what triggered this labor to come on so sudden and so strong.

“No, ‘course not,” Linda says in a soft, soothing voice, nearly drowned out by the sound of fabric smacking against skin; he’s pretty sure that Missy’s hit Andy upside the head with one of his couch cushions, and that’s confirmed when he hears Missy hiss “that is his boyfriend what is wrong with you for bringing that up right now” “well he did!” “oh my God, Emile is literally giving birth right now, this is not the time—”

A particularly strong surge of pressure and Emile clenches his teeth against a scream of pain—sunlight in his eyes flowers in his nose rocks scraping his hands—and his bickering cluster falls immediately silent, and still, and scared, a moment of silence before their thoughts come rushing in—what if this goes why didn’t harley tell us it could be like where is he it’s his damn boyfriend need to help them is he going how is this going to work harley where are you

“It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay,” Nate chants, rubbing a hand up down his back, and Emile actually sobs, this time, because it hurts, it hurts so much, he feels like his brain is exploding.

There are so many flickers of sensation, all the time, flickering from his own couch to the floor of Nate’s office to Linda’s kitchen table to a fancy apartment to Andy’s balcony to a dark silent bed to a grassy field to sprinting along the sidewalk past a patisserie to ears popping on an airplane on wait go back go back that was Remy Remy—

But it’s snatched away on a brisk wind on a blast of air conditioning on a cocoon of warmth under blankets on on on on on

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay, his cluster says as one, it’s okay it’s okayit’sokayit’sokay—

Nate squeezes his shoulder, and Emile sucks in a desperate breath of air, distantly aware of his own body, the fact he’s writing on his back, now, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes, his throat aching like he’s been screaming, Nate’s hand on his shoulder Missy’s fingers twining with his Linda touching his wrist Andy holding his ankle Brian’s hand on his knee. And he feels anchored.

And then Remy bursts into the apartment, and Emile bawls at the sight of him, the force of it making all of the cluster reach for Remy as one.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Remy pants, skidding to a stop at his couch, “fuck, I’m so sorry, baby—”

“Hurts,” is all Emile can say, and suddenly his body and the entire cluster has shifted—Remy lying behind him, his arms wrapped around Emile’s chest to keep him upright, his cluster touching his arms, his legs, his chest.

“I’m here,” Remy whispers, carding back Emile’s sweaty hair. “I’m right here, babe, I’m so sorry, I’m here now. I’m here.”

“It hurts,” Emile whimpers. “Rem, it hurts so much.”

“I know, I know, I can feel it,” Remy whispers into his ear, rocking him back and forth. “Em, you’re so close, baby, you’re almost done, you’re amazing.”

Emile, blindly, reaches out to clutch his hand and Remy is always, always there to take it, letting Emile crush his hand.

There’s a pull, now. He can feel it, a full-body pull, and—

“You got this,” Remy whispers. “Emile, honey, you’ve got this. We’re right here with you.”

You’re right here with me, Emile thinks, dizzy with the relief of it, finally, all of them, EmileRemyLinnyBrianTobyNateMissyAndy, you’re right here with me, and he lets himself be pulled.

And his brain expands.

“Remy, I see them,” he whispers. “I see them…”

The lights are off here, the only lighting from the moon, illuminated the massive apartment furnished in sleek black lines and bright golds, a man tossing and turning, facing Emile.

The man glances at him, rolls away, pauses, then rolls back abruptly; in the low light, Emile can see the scar slashed across his cheek, bisecting a birthmark. 

“Oh,” Emile whispers, his throat clogged suddenly at the sight of this man—he already knows that his name is Janus, and he is brilliant and cut-throat and lonely and dangerous and Emile loves him already. “Oh, they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, my dear. My darling.”

Emile reaches for him, and Janus opens his mouth, brow furrowed, about to ask, but Emile is pulled away before he can.

He is suddenly drenched with sweat under hot lights, a conglomeration of cameras in the distance, and he squints to where the boom microphones are held directly aloft—this is Roman, who has his head tilted toward a man in a baseball cap, deep in conversation. Emile glances back over his shoulder and sees a city skyline—old, and beautiful, and familiar because Emile’s been here. Or one of his cluster had been, anyway.

For all that Roman looks so involved in the conversation, Emile can feel the exhaustion of a long day’s shoot, the weight on his shoulders, the constant itch to reach for his phone, to scan the news. Roman’s brow furrows and he looks up, directly meeting Emile’s eyes.

“Are you lost?” Roman says uncertainly, and Emile smiles at him.

“No,” he says. “I was looking for you.”

“Who are you talking to?” The man in the cap asks, and Emile is pulled away.

He’s on a plane and his ears are refusing to pop. Emile grimaces in sympathy, even as he’s glancing over to the man sitting beside him on the plane. Well, slumped, to be more accurate, trying to get some sleep and failing miserably. Emile’s eyes ache with commiseration.

“Sorry,” Emile says sympathetically, remembering his own sleepless days after rebirth.

The man squints out at him, tugging off his purple headphones. “‘Scuse me?” He says, his voice accented—African?

“You’re probably not going to be able to sleep for a few days. Or, um. Not sleep well, I should say.”

“...I’ve had jet lag before,” Virgil says, and yes, he has, hasn’t he?

“Congratulations,” Emile says hastily, already feeling the pull. “A doctorate’s a very big achievement, you should be proud of yourself.”

Virgil’s eyes go wide, and he shrinks back a little in his seat.

“How did you—?”

And Emile is not trapped in a plane anymore, but he almost wishes he was.

“Jiminy crickets, it’s cold,” Emile says aloud, wrapping his arms around himself, because jeez louise it is cold!

Logan freezes from where he is examining a telescope to ensure it’s in working order. 

“The supply ship isn’t due until next week,” he says. His voice is very even and measured. “That is the only opportunity for strangers to get onto the island.”

“Supply…” Emile repeats, before he learns—remembers? “Oh. My goodness, you’re researching in Antarctica?!”

He is! He is researching in Antarctica! He’s a space researcher who is so good at what he does he got to go to Antarctica to study even more in-depth! Gosh, Emile has birthed a smart cluster, there are at least two doctors here! 

“...Am I hallucinating?” Logan asks himself very quietly.

“No!” Emile says hastily. “No no no no, goodness, no!”

Logan’s eyes narrow. “That is… precisely what one would think an induced hallucination would say.”

Emile’s about to explain, but he’s pulled before he can; he has a feeling that Logan’s going to need the most in-depth scientific explanation the Archipelago has accrued over the years.

And he is in a brightly decorated room, with soft toys and lots of colors and the letters of the alphabet winding around the room; a big, tall man is kneeling on the ground, carefully easing a backpack onto a child who couldn’t be more than five.

“All right, Livvy-Lou, we got it all figured out now, don’t we?” the man says brightly—his name is Patton, and he is soft and loving and beautiful and so very sad. 

A grin bursts out on the child’s face. “Thank you, Mr. T!”

Patton smiles, flicking one of her braided pigtails into place so that it doesn’t get tugged by her backpack straps, and gently nudges her along her way before he glances up.

“Hello!” Patton says to Emile brightly. “Are you a—?”

And then he falters.

“...you’re not a parent,” Patton says slowly. “Are you?”

“Well,” Emile says. “I suppose it depends on how you define ‘parent,’ and also, whose parent you think I am.”

Patton’s eyes crinkle with a smile. “What an odd way to answer that question.”

“You’re about to have a lot of odd days ahead of you,” Emile says, “I mean, a lot,” and—

A man sitting hunched under a tree is cussing to himself, even as he eats food he’s gotten from the trash, and his eyes widen at the sight of Emile, already rising to a half-crouch, ready to run.

“Oh,” Emile says. “Oh, goodness. You’ve gotten yourself into quite a situation, haven’t you?”

Remus snarls at him wordlessly. 

Emile frowns a little, his heart aching with terrible concern, not all of it his own. “Is that all you have to eat?”

“Fuck off,” Remus spits, and—

Emile gasps, back in Remy’s arms, back in his apartment, his cluster all staring at him, wide-eyed.

“So?” Missy urges. “Greeks? Tell me you got a Greek.”

He looks at her, and he thinks of the cluster he has just brought into the world, and he feels such a surge of overwhelming joy that he can do nothing but laugh.

His cluster laughs with him, and Remy lets out a huffing breath, hugging him close and kissing his temple, and Emile sighs, closing his eyes, exhausted but still smiling, smiling, smiling.

In London, in Mexico City, in the air between Baltimore and Pretoria, in Antarctica, in Monterrey—

He hopes they all hear it.

Welcome to being sensate, my loves.

[wizardouxie]

Trollhunters but it’s a figure skating au

So Jim used to skate when he was younger

But he left the rink to take care of his mom after his dad abandoned them

Weirdly enough it was his dad who originally got him into ice skating

But it was for hockey and not actual figure skating whoops

Steve constantly tries to bully Jim about it

Apparently it’s a “girl” thing

Toby on the other hand tries constantly to get Jim back into the game

“Come on dude, you used to fly across the ice! It’s super cool,”

“You know I left that behind Tobes,”

When they find out Claire is a skater Jim is Interested™

Toby notices LMAO

“DUDE DUDE DUDE YOU CAN IMPRESS HER!”

“TOBY NO –”

Jim kinda wants to but at the same time he doesn’t really have the motivation for it

Or a coach…

OH BUT HE DOES

Because it’s Blinky and Aaarrrgghh!

They’re really good coaches

Well Unkar begs to differ but THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT

Aaarrrgghh actually teaches Toby to skate as well

“Jim look I’m doing it!”

“That’s great Tobes! A couple of years and maybe you’ll reach my level!”

“Haha nice joke!”

“I was being serious –”

Draal gets lowkey pissed that Jim is trying out for nationals cuz he’s been working up to this to prove to his father Kanjigar

Who by the way, was the one who always faced off Gunmar in the finals

However Bular beat Kanjigar one competition and ever since then the pro skater has given up his claim to glory

Anyways there’s a regionals competition that Jim and Draal are competing to win because after that they can move onto state

Toby somehow lands himself as a commentator for the ice skating competition so you can bet your money he’d yell into the mic over Jim 

Eli is the other commentator

Jim beats Draal fair and square

Draal grudgingly accepts defeat and decides to help Jim on his journey to winning gold

Trollhunter amulet? Nah. Ice skates that make Jim feel confident? YAH.

No they are not enchanted nothing is enchanted in this AU

They’re his lucky skates leave him be ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Meanwhile Strickler is Bular’s coach

…They really don’t get along

Strickler and Nomura try to spy on Blinky and Jim to see what routine and music they’re planning to use

They also steal Jim’s skates cuz they notice how he some gets better with them in comparison to his practice skates

Blinky and Jim find the skates in their bag and exposes them

SCANDALOUS

Lmao doesn’t stop them from sending Angor Rot to do their dirty work

Angor also steals Jim’s skates and Jim’s like bruh

Jim breaks something of Angor’s and Angor freaks but the adult is quickly taken away by security and now banned from all local skating rinks

Jim breezes through state competition thankfully

Unfortunately so do others 

Here comes the Return of Gunmar and Morgana

Aka the two of them getting back in the competition because Bular repeatedly FAILS to demolish Jim and Morgana wants to claim the win she was denied before

They both “need” a coach so Usurna backs Gunmar while Morgana has Dictatious

Blinky is appalled to see his brother fraternizing with the enemy

The Tribunal (without Usurna) are the judges of the competition

Meanwhile Jim really wants to impress Claire

He hopes she’s watching him from home

But get this, she’s going to nationals for the women’s division

Small world we live in, huh?

NotEnrique is her coach but they have a hard time getting along with each other

For the most part she’s been studying Morgana’s routines from past competitions and borrowed some sequences while putting her own spin on it (literally)

Jim loves to see her practice and the feeling is mutual from Claire’s side!

Even if it meant seeing Jim always tripping on his feet

And getting his skates stuck rip

She finds it cute lmao

They begin to fall in love yada yada yada PAIR SKATE

They do a pair skate to Eres Tú for fun

At one point Merlin pops in to give Jim advice and everyone freaks

He’s an ex Olympics gold medalist what’s he doing here???? OMG???

He takes Jim to another room… and tells Jim to switch his entire routine

“Gunmar will easily defeat you with that mediocre performance,”

Jim is Offended

But after some consideration he takes Merlin’s new routine, shuts out everyone from the rink to practice on his own

Quickly reaches brink of exhaustion, like he’s caked in sweat

Still keeps going at it despite the shouts from the other side

Blinky is yelling at Merlin and Claire is trying to break through and it’s BAD

Meanwhile Jim is tearing up because he’s gotten this far and he’s trying his best and everyone is rooting for him

He can’t let them down, he just can’t

He collapses on the ice the same time the door is broken down

The press learns about this and the headlines are raging about whether Jim will participate in the finals or not

“I’m going to win,”

“No, you’re going to hurt yourself,”

“I don’t care,”

“But we do!”

Unfortunately his mind is set

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh can only watch him push himself

Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for: The Grand Prix Nationals

Jim goes up against Gunmar and Claire goes up against Morgana

Jim takes his chances before getting into the rink

“No lucky kiss for me?”

Claire raises an eyebrow and then kisses him on the cheek

“Go get em tiger.”

After that Jim is absolutely feral on the ice

Homie is out for blood

The commentator remarks that he’s not even human at this point with his new routine

Merlin watches with approval, stroking his beard

Blinky has a strong urge to pull it but Aaarrrgghh holds him back

Jim finishes his routine while looking at Claire and Toby and they give him a thumbs up

Gunmar does his performance and it is definitely professional, after all he’s been doing this for a long time

He ends by smirking at Jim

But let the results speak for themselves

Drum roll please!

…

…

…

JIM BEATS GUNMAR BY A LARGE MARGIN LETS GOOOOOO

And so Gunmar dies figuratively (HA get it figure skating fig- okay nvm)

Press goes nuts that the rookie beat a pro

Suddenly cameras and mics are shoved towards Jim and Toby is loving it

Toby, certified public relationship agent

Blinky is so proud of Jim

“I knew you had it in you.”

Now we move onto the women’s division

So Claire definitely has a few tricks up her sleeve

She pulls off a costume change and her outfit goes from white/gold to black/purple

Then she pulls off a move that Morgana attempted in a previous comp but failed to perform which leaves the crowd shocked

Morgana is utterly stunned to the point it affects her performance

She over rotates, trips, slips, every ice skating nightmare, you name it

Everyone watched the Grand Prix thinking Morgana would win and came out just knowing Claire would seize the gold this time

Morgana is humiliated with a bronze… again

Afterwards Jim and Claire are yelling at each other because they won nationals together

Merlin walks up to them and offers to coach them for Olympics if they’d like

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh definitely tag along

Merlin isn’t about to get all the credit

Toby unfortunately has to fly back to Arcadia while they train :((

But no worries, he can always commentate on the ice skating performances at home!

*sigh* They’re not as fun though, mostly showcases rather than competitions

But one day a new rising skater from Cantaloupia shows up to the rink and changes everything

[mrsdobrik]

Meeting his family for the first time and you become super close with his sisters and are always talking to them and giving advice.

The Dobrik home in stood before them in all its glory. It was their first trip to Vernon Hills together and Y/n could feel her nerves increasing as they got closer. David had tried to calm her down by giving her a quick tour of his hometown, showing her his favorite stops from his childhood, but she wasn’t even listening. Her mind was thinking about every single thing that could go wrong when you meet your boyfriend’s parents.

“How do I look?” Y/n asked.

“...worried....” Dave replied with a smile. He placed his hands firmly on her arms and reassured her. “They are going to love you. Relax, baby. How could they not love you? You are kind and smart and loving and beautiful and I love you. They would be stupid not to like you.”

Y/n took a deep breath before admitting he was right and standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“Lets go inside” David smiled, placing his hand in the small of her back, gently pushing her towards the door.

“Palo they’re here!” They heard Christina cheer from the other side of the door before it opened suddenly. David’s mom opened her arms to hug her son before pulling Y/n in for a hug to.

“Hi Mrs. Dobrik, it’s so nice to meet you!” Y/n said overwhelmed by the warm welcome.

“Come on in! You must be freezing! David has told me so much about you” Christina replied.

“Yeah, like literally, you are all he talks about when he calls.” Esther teased, making Y/n smile.

“Hi Esther!” Y/n chuckled and the girls hugged each other.

“Wow, I kind off get why he’s been simping so hard over you, you are way to pretty for him.”

“Esther!” Christina half reprimanded half laughed.

“Hi sis, nice to see you too.” David laughed.

Dinner went great and Y/n felt incredibly comfortable among the Dobriks but it wasn’t till the next day that she really started bonding with David’s sisters. 

“Come in” Esther yelled from inside her room after Y/n knocked. She wanted to know if Esther wanted to join David and her when they went to Portillos with Sarah and Toby. Esther was, however, standing in front of a full length mirror staring at her outfit. 

“I would go with the brown ones” Y/n commented, unprompted, pointing at the boots the girl was wearing. “And switch to gold jewelry” 

“Thanks! That’s exactly what I needed!” Esther said as she made the changes suggested. 

“So... who is he? or she? not assuming.” Y/n smiled. 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“No, I just have experience with being nervous before dates.” Y/n chuckled. 

“He is a senior, his name is Peter and he’s really cute.” Esther confessed. 

“An older guy” Y/n smirked. “Maybe let’s not tell your brother about that” 

“It feels good to have another girl here to talk to” Esther smiled. 

“What about Sarah?” 

“An older girl, who is not my sister”

“Wow, I’m older now. I need to pick up an eye cream when we go back to L.A.” Y/n joked. “So, where is he taking you?”

“We are going bowling” 

“Then maybe switch the skirt for a pair of pants, less chances of a wardrobe malfunction.” Y/n suggested. 

“Right!” Esther laughed. 

“I’ll leave you to it” Y/n giggled remembering her own first date with David and how nervous she was. 

“Wait! Y/n!” Esther said as she was about to leave the room. “Thank you” 

“Anytime! And just so you know, I’m just as good at fashion advice over Facetime”

“I’ll remember that” Esther gave her one last smile before the door closed. 

[stellarcat52]

Timeless blue chapter 8

Too much was happening too quickly, the rest of the guardians, including Merlin and Nari, were joining the time travelers on the ship, Jim was dying, and Douxie was still holding tight to his promise of getting everyone home safely.

The warping magic in Krel’s core didn’t help.

As he predicted, the magic of time travel did not infect him, however the magic of Morgana seared his body without doing physical damage. Nari and Douxie seemed to notice almost immediately.

“Krel?” Douxie kept steering on an expert level, but his visible concern distracted Krel for a moment before a violent surge of powerful magic bounces throughout his body.

A burst of golden energy jerks out of his body, not doing any damage but still alerting everyone on the ship to what was happening. The light once again fades, leaving his normal blue coloring, and a dim gold line appears on his forearm, hints of green eminent right next to it.

“Maybe you did get some time travel in you.” Douxie commented as Krel examined the new line.

“Wait what?” Douxie quickly moves to respond to Toby as Camelot crashes into the school, and he instead moves to land beside it.

They pile out, ready to protect both Jim and Nari from the Arcane order, or the green knight.

“They are under our protection!”

“If you want them you’ll have to go through us!”

Krel watched in awe as the other two spellcasters immediately stepped up to protect, following quietly after them just as Merlin set up a barrier. “Do your worst.”

The fight started, the green knight making an appearance as well as a declaration of taking the Trollhunter and Nari. Even with Douxie and Claire’s magic, he seemed unwavering in his advances. Krel’s focus wasn’t steady, he hadn’t mastered anything or even practiced as much as he could. His attempts with shadow trapping the knight were just as ineffective as Claire’s.

When the knight almost brought down his sword on Douxie, magic flowed uncontrollably through the air. Gold light striking the knight as Claire pulled Douxie away.

Douxie watched golden lines run through Krel’s body, continuous strikes on the Knight seemed harmless, but notably distracting. “Of course, it’s Morgana’s magic.”

Merlin didn’t seem satisfied, claiming the outmatched battle forfeit on their side.

Hearing that made Douxie admit it wasn’t worth the try. It took his touch to literally shake Krel out of the golden trance of rage. “We can’t defeat him.”

Krel knew Claire was panicked, Douxie knew it too. When Jim, in his now fully trollish glory, rose to fight, they were ready to run. They hid on the streets, between buildings and anywhere else that was out of the Order’s sight.

“There’s nothing we could do, I promise we’ll go back for him.” Douxie held Claire’s shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes and believe him.

“We can’t, we must hide Nari. There’s more at stake than you know.”

“One thing at a time, please!” Krel interrupted any further argument. “I’m sorry Claire, but we can’t lose anyone else to the arcane order.”

“Jim is not dead!”

“We don’t-“

Douxie knew what Krel was about to say and stopped it. “What he means is, Jim isn’t in contact with us. We can’t work with him at this moment and need everyone’s help to stop this. Keeping Nari out of their hands is probably our most urgent task right now.” Claire seemed satisfied for now with that answer.

“Alright, then we regroup somewhere safe and make plans from there.” Krel seemed somewhat hesitant to move forwards despite his words, paying more attention to the asphalt beneath them than the people around him.

“Where? The order has been around for millennia, they know all my places of power.”

“I know a place of power, where the order won’t find us.” Douxie looked around with a glint in his eye, motioning for the others to follow him.

——

The interrupt Zoe helping a customer, with Douxie’s personal connection to her, well mostly the urgency in Toby’s voice, it wasn’t difficult to be let into the depths of Hex Tech and left alone with one simple instruction. “Don’t break anything.”

Nari and Merlin’s explanation left the group worried, finally knowing what they’re up against didn’t do much to raise their spirits. Jim’s being taken was questioned, and eventually arguments did fall between Claire and Merlin.

Douxie was left to be the voice of reason with Krel finally having access to technology again, and making decent use of it.

Once Douxie got his inspiration, and explained the plan to everyone, two groups were formed. One group would make a deal with the Arcane order, Douxie, Merlin, Steve, and Claire were the ones in this group. Everyone else was to stay behind and protect Nari.

Krel had worries related to this set up. The Arcane order sounded to him similar to the Zeron Brotherhood, but many times stronger. Perhaps joined they would be on the level of a god, just like Morando with Gaylen’s core.

He wouldn’t let Douxie leave just yet, so before the group took off he pulled the wizard aside.

“Promise you’ll come back.”

“What? Of course I will Krel.” Douxie could feel someone’s eyes on them. “This plan will work, we’ll get him back and go from there.”

“Just promise, please.” Krel seemed unable to cry, his voice was cracking “I just need to know that I won’t lose you.”

“I promise.” Douxie knew that if anything went wrong, he might not keep that promise.

Douxie reaches towards Krel’s face, making Krel face him just like he had Claire earlier. “I’ll come back, and I need you to promise me something too. Stay here, stay safe, I better not come back to find you’re not here to come back to.”

Krel and Douxie were both half-forcing smiles, worry and emotions corrupting their focus for a few moments longer before Claire called Douxie back.

“I love you, so don’t die on me, Hisirdoux Casperan.” Krel spoke just as Douxie started leaving, causing a pause in his step.

Douxie turns back, and with a small genuine smile, replied. “I love you too, so don’t die on me, Prince Krel Tarron.” He mocks a small bow, then leaves. His spirits were raised, somewhat at least.

Krel stayed frozen until the team was out of Hex Tech. A few days ago, Hisirdoux Casperan was nothing more than a cute cafe waiter to Krel, now he was so much more in every way.

[tomsandal]

A Cup to go

a/n: brought to you by me asking what should i write and Pap answering "coffee shop au or whatever people write about these days"

characters: červená kapota, tom sandál, leva p. pneumatika (background), tobi polobotka (background)

warnings: none

words: 4,6k

The Luxorn cup

Part of the Artanar sterling silver tea and coffee set, originally belonging to a bygone Liechtenstein royal family and currently one of the most expensive antiques in the world. And that is for a good reason. The set is decorated with accents of gold and embellished with an array of rubies, garnets and red opals, with a large fire opal as its centrepiece.

All of that makes it shiny enough to make any respected lawbreaker want to get their hands on it.

It comes as a surprise then, that this piece of treasure is not sought after very much. That is, because it just so happened, that many years back this set was being transported across the pacific to a highly acclaimed auction when it mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again in the light of day.

That is, until now.

Word has been going around the streets of a certain long lost cup set piece. A hint here, a suggestion there and suddenly there is even a rumoured location. Location in the shape of a very unassuming coffee shop.

In front of which stood a certain red-clad thief.

Červená Kapota scanned the storefront of the shop from the other side of the street. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The outlet was painted in cheerful pastel colours with their display boards full of saccharine sweet words written in excessive loops and currently accomodating a fair share of customers inside. She got to give it to them, if this all truly is just a front for a criminal organisation, then they did a mighty fine job with it. What a cheeky plan though, simply hide a cup in a coffee shop and everyone is none the wiser. Well, except her obviously.

That's why she is here in the first place.

A week ago she applied for a job there, with a plan to assimilate with the staff and find out where the famed teaware was hiding and swoop it right under their noses. Easy job, just in and out, a deserved rest after her painstaking previous venture. So she didn’t need to worry about ruining her current streak of successful heists.

And luck seemed to be on her side.

Earlier that day Kapota received an email from the store owner, informing her that her application was accepted and to show up to the interview at -about now- o’clock, actually. She looked up from her watch and with a last glance at their display windows, she made her way inside.

The door opened with a cute little jingle and the heavy coffee aroma hit her right in the nose. Disoriented for a second, she quickly surveyed the place before proceeding to the counter with confident steps. Once there, an employee with a high ponytail and cherry drop earrings looked up at her and fixed her with a trained smile.

“Hello and Welcome dear, you are here for the interview, right?” the barista addressed her cheerfully.

“That would be me, yes”

“Good, good. Your resume passed with flying colours and the manager will see you now.”

Of course it did, I am no amateur after all. This will be a piece of cake.

“Now if you would please follow me to the backroom, the other person is already there so yall can get right to it”

...

The what

Before Kapota had any time to voice her confusion, the aforementioned barista led her to the back of the shop, knocked on a door at the very end of the hallway, gave her a reassuring smile and left her to her own devices.

Upon hearing “Enter.” from the other side, she took a deep breath and opened the door, peering inside.

The manager sat behind a desk with two other seats in front of him.

The one on the right was empty. But the one on the left was already occupied.

Said occupant was sitting back leisurely with one hand hanging over the backrest and a head full of loud purple hair.

oh...

oh no.

Kapota cursed inwardly when the person turned around, and it did in fact turn out to be the very same guy she was expecting, coincidentally also the actual last person she would want to see right now at this very moment in this very office.

Once he turned around and took a look at her, his face turned to a brief expression of surprise but he shook it off quickly and in its place was a beaming smug grin that could be mistaken for a friendly smile by anyone else, but she knew better.

“You!” she growled and pointed at him accusatory.

“Hii Red” he simply shot back with a wink.

The audacity. What a no-good, infuriating, pompous peac-

“Ah miss Redd! Come, come. Take a seat please.” interrupted the manager, quite rudely, her train of thoughts.

“So..” he continued as she sat down, “I take it that you two have met before, is that right”

Her workmate turned his attention back to said man and with his million-dollar smile, he answered “Oh! yeah, yeah, we go way back, chums pretty much”

“Just coworkers,” she shot back.

“professional associates☆”

“acquaintances at best.”

“You wound me”

“Good.”

“ow-” “-So as I see it,” interfered the manager (yet once again), “this situation turned out as well as it could have! Since it seems that both of you are acquainted with each other already, there won't be any reason for any petty rivalry out there.” they glanced at each other, wearing the same expression, “because, you see, well we, unfortunately, have only one spot on the staff free. And you might be wondering, what now? There is two of you. Well, both of you will simply go out there and will show us if you got what it takes and I’ll pick who will be staying at the end of your shifts”

when neither of them said anything he just shooed them away with his hands and finished with “that would be all thank you, ask Marcy to give you your uniforms and run-down of the place.”

As they were getting up, she looked back at her involuntarily gained companion and suppressed a sigh. It's not that she disliked the guy that much, but with the nuisance incarnate Tom himself here, there wasn’t a single chance of this going according to plan.

///

So far so good, thought a certain Tom Sandál to himself, while picking scattered porcelain shards from the floor.

It’s already been an hour since he has been reassigned to a server instead of a barista and this is only the first cup he broke! Going strong here!

When they started their shifts, he was the one they picked first to go work behind the counter, which they regretted soon enough and pulled him from there. Yeah so he may or may not know actual nothing on how to make a decent cup of coffee or operate any of their machinery but he tried his best, and it's not like Kap lasted in that position that much longer than him when they put her there to replace him. Admittedly she actually took to it a bit better than him and managed to make it work for her, which comes as a surprise in all regards since he was pretty sure that she didn’t like coffee one bit. Suspicious.

Speaking of suspicious, he’s also pretty sure she tried to poison him twice at least in her reign behind the counter, which yes, justified, but still.

He was being a cheek and ordered a cup for himself since there weren’t many people in and there wasn’t much to do. When he got his cup, instead of the typical caramelized nutty smell of a coffee there was something he couldn't quite place but very much out of place and on top of that there was a cream poured art in the shape of a skull in the foam. When he looked back at her with a quirked eyebrow in a silent question she just smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

Never has he been this torn in making a decision. Prove a point or stay unpoisoned, choices, choices.

He didn’t dare drink it in the end.

But it was close.

The second time he did it, because yes of course he pulled it twice, he - definitely intentionally and according to plan not just a mistake thankyou- switched orders around and his poisoned cup of coffee ended up with a customer.

After that Kapota has been stripped of her coffee-making privileges and demoted to a server. So now they are both on the same playing field, only needing to look out for nudges from the other one when they are balancing a particularly high stack of tableware.

Tom finished sweeping all the stray bits of porcelain from the floor and dumped them in a bin.

A Job well done, I deserve a cookie.

And with that, he in fact pulled out a cookie from the front pocket of his apron.

Tobi swinged by the shop earlier to drop off his lunch, and also to make fun of him, but they also brought the said cookies so all is forgiven.

Munching on a cookie, he turned to the task at hand and got back to picking up cups and plates from empty seats.

When he was at his third table, with a decently sized cup tower in hands, something behind him caught his attention. Turning slightly, he saw his ol pal Kap standing over a table next to a seated customer with wavy dirty blond hair and a kind smile. The surprising part was that they seemed to be in the middle of a civil conversation.

“Well I be damned” he murmured to himself and leaned towards them.

Kapota of all people being able to make friends that fast? He was almost proud. Unless of course, it i-

/crash/

...

Aaaand that makes it a cup number two.

///

“I don't know… just give me the speciality of the house”

“Leva please I've literally worked here for two hours just pick”

///

Getting inside the head office and swiping classified documents unnoticed has been laughably easy.

When no one was looking, Kapota sneaked off to the backrooms and after confirming that the air was clear, slipped inside the now empty manager's office. With the soft click of closing doors behind her, she quickly scanned the room to see what she could work with. A computer, a corkboard, a card file cabinet and a large painting. Knowing that she was on borrowed time, she quickly proceeded with the task at hand. First, she inspected the corkboard, since it was closest to the door. A quick inspection showed that this was a dead-end, nothing more than useless paper junk and employees of the month, as she partly expected. On the other hand, the computer being also a dead end was a surprise. She searched through it back and forth and yet there was nothing relating to the cup or any nefarious activities, to be frank, there was hardly anything on the computer in general. Not good. Next, she probed the painting, an abstract piece with a decorated frame, hopefully hiding anything of use behind it. She gently lifted it off the wall and to her growing disappointment found only a bare wall hiding behind it. She took a peek at the back of the canvas, hoping to find at least some helpful note tucked to the frame, but all that was there was scribbled “dedicated to S.M., who wont pick up my calls”. She frowned and put the painting back a bit crooked.

“Looks like we’ll have to do this the old fashion way”, she said to herself as she made her way towards the card file cabinet and cracked her knuckles.

Bills, order lists, inventory stocktaking, employee files, folders upon folders of junk. Not looking good so far. She kept thumbing through the folders some more when finally a word caught her attention. “Combination safe”. The document itself was quite chaotic and all over the place, but Kapota gathered the meaning of it loud and clear. There was a safe somewhere in the building, with the combination to it scribbled charitably at the bottom of the page. Not only that, but it wasn’t just any safe that would hold the company’s earnings or anything. No, this was apparently the manager's own personal secret safe. That was about to swiftly change, sharing is caring after all.

She stashed all the folders back and turned to leave the place with her newfound goal. Though when she was across the office something made her scramble in place and dive under the desk. Something that was very unmistakenly footstep sounding, which was confirmed by the creak of the door seconds later.

Glueing herself to the inside of the desk, she held her breath and willed the person to just turn around and leave. This was far from the first time she was in a situation like this but it was nerve-wracking all the same. Few tense moments passed by and the person finally moved towards the desk.

I am a shadow the shadow is me you don't see me you cant see me you wont-

The person sat a paper cup upon the desk and promptly left.

Few more moments passed until the footsteps fully faded and Kapota finally let out the breath she was holding and quickly made her escape from the office.

///

The place consisted of the main room, with a second story of sorts that overlooked the bottom floor, an adjacent kitchen and back hallways that led to the aforementioned office, storeroom and a door to the back alley.

The main room and kitchen were currently a no-go. Can’t snoop around if everyone is pestering you to work and questioning everything you do. The second story was just filled with plants and didn’t offer any seatings for customers so it should be devoid of anyone, but you could also see there from the main room, so snooping there right now is risque as well. So that left Kapota with the office, storeroom, hallways and the back alley for all she knows.

Since the office was already checked, she proceeded to go through the storeroom next but came out empty-handed as well.

So now she was crawling along a wall in the middle of a hallway, prodding the wall for any secrets, step after step.

/knock knock/

Not here.

/knock knock/

Not here.

/knock kn-/

“I didn’t expect this place to have a boogeymen problem when I applied, they should probably do something about that before things get out of hands”

She didn't even look back, she knew perfectly who that was.

“Don’t you have tea to serve or something”

“I'm pretty sure its coffee and same goes to you”,

“Cool, cool”, she pinched the bridge of her nose “but we can’t both be missing, so go back or you’ll blow my cover.”

“Good”

what a prick.

She decided to not grace him with a response and just went back to her wall scrutiny.

She only managed to cover a few more meters of the hallway before Tom broke the silence again.

“So... why are you creeping in the shadows in the first place”

Now she looked back at him with a smile.

“Let’s just say that the higher-ups have been liberated of a certain safe intel”, she responded lightly before turning back to the wall.

Behind her echoed a commending whistle accompanied by “As expected of the resident sneakster” and then the hallway was filled with the sounds of her work yet once again.

/knock knock/

/knock knock/

/knock knock/

“It's just a shame that my sources say something different”

/knock/

...

“Sources?”

“Oh you know...” he drawled with an audible grin “just chit chat here chit chat there with my dear coworkers, really bonded ykno”

“What, How did you make them trust you and spill so quickly, we haven’t been here longer than a few hours.”

“You’d be surprised what people will tell you for a cookie ;]”

Kapota, now fully facing Tom, just blinked for a few moments before gathering her thoughts.

“So hypothetically if i handed you a metaphorical cookie at this very moment could you disclose with me what this great source of yours said.”

“Well then hypothetically, I heard through the grapevine that mr bossman is quite particular about his flowers. Everyone says they look very fake up close but weirdly enough, everyone is also strictly forbidden from touching them or moving them even a centimeter from their spot, lest they wilt”, he finished with a dramatic sigh, before switching his expression to a mischievous smirk and continuing, “So of course i am currently on my way to dig through the dirt and see if there are hidden goodies”

Kapota thought about it for a while, it was very far-fetched, but not implausible. But it still didn’t fully add up and left loose ends…

“Alright flowerboy, but then explain why there were documents talking about spicy little secret safe that the manager is keeping to himself.”

Few beats of silence passed between them before they both exclaimed at the same time.

“The safe is hidden by a flowerpot!”

They were both wearing matching grins, which upon realization promptly morphed into matching glares.

What now.

...

“Alright thanks for the company, but it's time for you to return to the floor now. scram”, Kapota started pointedly and shooed him away with her hands.

“As if!” shot Tom right back. “You wouldn’t even know where to go if it weren’t for me.”

“First of all, I would get there eventually! And secondly, we can’t both disappear from our shifts, people will get suspicious and we will get easily spotted!”

“Well I’m going now and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

“But I was here first!”

“I didn’t ask!!”

They held each other's glares. No one was blinking.

“Listen...” began Tom cautiously. “This is getting us nowhere, how about we decide the old fashion way”

Kapota squinted at him as he proceeded to rummage through his pockets and made a small sound of realization when he held out a small coin for her to see.

“A coin flip”

“Exactly”

“I swear Sandals if you say something like ‘tails i go get the loot, heads you go back serving’ i swear i will-”

“Nononon non ok nothing like that I swear just tails you get to go, heads i get to go?”

“... In that case that we could do yeah”

“Nice, nice, so can we blink now?”

“I suppose so”

“Neato”, the staring ended with that and Tom brought his free hand to his eyes.

“I have one condition for it though”, continued Kapota as she rubbed her sore eyes as well.

“I don't want your “showman hands” anywhere near that flip, so no catching or hand slapping and possible rigging of yours will be going on.”

“Fair I suppose, so I just flip it and let it clatter to the ground you say?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of me doing the coin catching.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright then floor shall be our judge”

And with that the deciding flip was flipped, the metal gleamed in the shabby ceiling light and filled the whole hallway with anticipation.

As if in slow motion it turned

once

twice

thrice

and then it swiftly fell down and right in the gap between floor panels and clattered to a layer underneath them.

No one moved.

…

“I don’t think I have another coin”, piped quietly Tom.

“The floor is our judge”

“pardon?”

“The floor is our judge.”, repeated Kapota, now a bit more loudly. “We have to find out what the judgement is.”

“What does that, huh? So we are going to tear the floor apart to see what it landed on, or?”

“Yes.”

“...well, lets get to work then, shall we”

///

For anyone wondering, it takes one broken floor plank and a baffled employee to be demoted to a floor sweeper.

///

“That could have gone better”, murmured Tom to himself.

He and his floor vandalizing accomplice were currently stashed in the back of the main room with brooms in hands. Far enough to not be in the way but close enough to be watched over.

Thankfully they weren’t immediately thrown out when they were ungracefully caught with bits of flooring in their hands. He managed to, fortunately, swiftly sweet talk them out of their predicament so now they weren’t personnel suspicious of criminal activity but just two idiot clowns. And while yes, not being thrown out or arrested was sweet indeed, this outcome was not that ideal either. But what's done is done.

So Tom just leaned back against the wall and lamented.

“All that work and we haven’t even found out who won in the end.”

He would have continued to wail some more but a swift bonk to the head from his partner in crime stopped his next lament and instead he just let out a hiss of pain. He looked at her questioningly, because what was that for, but he only received a nod and tipping of her broom (that had been used for the bonkage moment prior) towards the dustpan in his hand. Upon further inspection, it turned out that his wall leaning, while effective for dramatic effect, also tipped over his dustpan and now most of it was back on the floor.

“Ay ay kaptn’ im I am on it Im on it..”, he muttered as he crouched down. “You could have informed me a bit more gently though. I will have a bruise for sure and we’re stuck here for a little while longer and you’re not exactly the one I would want to kiss it better” He dodged from her range with a cackle as she raised the broom threateningly once more.

They continued to sweep peacefully, each in their little corner.

“So… buddy..”

A humm of acknowledgement.

“What do you think are the odds of us being able to scamper off to grab the goods”

To that Kapota chuckled and responded with a small smile. “I think we have better chances of getting promoted than them letting us go anywhere out of their sight”

“drat”

“I second that”

Kapota then proceeded to lean on her broom tiredly.

Not the best of napping places, thought Tom to himself. He should probably be a good friend and provide her with somewhere more comfortable to rest. Like, the floor, for example. And by ‘provide’ meaning deliver a swift kick to her broom as a payback for the bonk. But he decided to be the bigger man and opted to not go through with it and let her be.

For about ten seconds.

///

So this was it.

They were seated again in the bossman’s office just like the many hours before that, except now they were waiting for the big reveal. Which one of them will get the spot and with that a chance to try again the next day. He wasn't delusional and knew neither he or Kap made a great first impression, but now it all comes to who was more of a disaster. He hadn’t looked to his right, but knew his competition next to him was as tense as he.

The manager finally decided to speak.

“Well, how do I put this.” Doesn’t matter, just put it out somehow please. “You have both shown that you are very passionate and prepared to put your all into this and I must commend you for that. But the thing is. Well… after a long evaluation, um I have decided that unfortunately neither of you get the job”. He paused for a short moment before briskly continuing so they couldn't get their two cents in. “It wasn’t an easy decision”, he coughed slightly, “but some, hm, alarming factors pushed me to make this decision. Thank you for your time, it was lovely having you here but I would kindly request of you to take your leave now. Have a pleasant rest of your day.”

///

Tom climbed the last few stairs leading to his door and with a jingle of keys promptly entered inside.

“heeyo I’m home”, he called as he closed the door behind him. In response, he got a muffled “Welcome home” from the kitchen and soft pitter-patter of little feet. Soon enough accompanying the patters was a grey cat-shaped furball striding towards him. He picked up said fuzz and nuzzled it in greeting.

“Hewwo Bean did’cha miss me little buddy?” cooed Tom at the cat which bapped him swiftly in the nose as a response.

“That is not his name and you know it.”, replied a scolding voice from the kitchen.

Tom just laughed and made his way to his dearest with a purring bundle of fluff in his arms. Tobi was standing at the counter, donned in a green sweater and hair in a bun, seemingly finishing putting away whatever it was they were using beforehand. Tom hopped onto the counter next to them.

“I won’t get a hewwo?”, they said over their shoulder.

“in this economy? We’re all out, sorry”

Tobi just smiled and after putting away the last glass they turned to Tom and put their arms around him and mr. Socks and planted a little kiss on their boyfriend’s brow.

“Care for a cup of coffee after a long day?”, they inquired mischievously.

“Don’t ask me anything like that in the next few months and I might find some leftover hewwo stock somewhere.”

Tobi chuckled and murmured in his hair “How generous. Should I put the kettle on instead? Care for a spot of tea perhaps. ”

“That would be absolutely perfect thank uu”

Tom might not have gotten his hands on the famed Luxorn cup, but a cup of tea from his partner seemed even better at the moment.

///

Kapota was standing at the doorstep to her apartment building, wanting to savour the pleasant crisp air for a while longer before going inside. She got here only now, even though she got kicked out of the coffee shop a few hours prior already, but Leva brought her along to their little personal pity party of sorts, to cheer her up. And don’t take her wrong, she had fun and was actually feeling better even though the plan was a bust, because Leva just had that effect on people, but she was exhausted and looking forward to going home and crashing down. So with a last deep breath, she entered the building and began her climb up the many stairs.

After her conquer of the staircase she unlocked her door and entered the comfortable familiarity of her apartment.

“Hey everyone I’m home.”, she called and back replied bubbling water and an oxygen pump whirring.

She put away her coat and shoes and made her way toward her fish tank, grabbing a box of fish food on her way there. She then proceeded to greet all of her bushnosed babeis. All very beautiful. Very powerful.

Once they were all accounted for and fed, Kapota all but fell to her armchair next to the fish tank. Letting out a content sigh, she burrowed down in the soft plush and relaxed. This was fine. This was nice.

She could hardly even remember what she was so bummed out about.

Oh yeah wait. Stupid gaudy cup. Who needs it anyway? She has plenty of cups right here.

So who cares that the heist was unsuccessful, at least she messed up Tom’s plans as well so he’s gone home empty-handed with her, and that's in her books just as much of a success as actually getting the prize.

And with that, she drifted off.

[tempesrature]

The Case of the Murdered Witch Doctors | Chapter 4

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 The Charm of Lost Things (Oneshot Follow-up) Creative Process Note Commissioned Art Piece

Pairing: Ride or Die | Ellie x Colt Summary:  “Women are naturally secretive, and they like to do their own secreting.” - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes   Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: PG-16 @rodappreciationweek @lovehugsandcandy

~*~

“Un-hoooooly shit!” Toby exclaims as he circles around Ellie with his nose uncomfortably in her personal space. Her nose wrinkles lightly when she smells the heavy Fern Flower smoke smell on him. “Nothing! Literally nothing! I’ve never smelled anything like it! Xi, you gotta smell this!”

“I’m sorry about him sweetie,” Ximena sighs as shakes her head and places a hand on her hip. “I would be lying if I say he isn’t usually like this. My name’s Ximena and that guy there is Toby.”

“I’m Ellie. And it’s cool. I get it a lot,” Ellie grimaces a little when she feels the tip of Toby’s nose touch her cheek and she pushes his face away from her. “Although not usually this close. Is his nose broken or something?”

“It will be if he doesn’t take a step back,” Colt replies from somewhere behind her as he closes the door behind his office and stands next to Ellie. He looks at Ximena and Toby and gives them a nod. “Both of you leave for the nightclub. I have a guest tonight.”

Colt sends her a smirk and Ellie rolls her eyes before she waves goodbye to Ximena and Toby. The moment the shop’s doors close behind them, Colt turns to Ellie with a smug smile as he leans back to look at her from head to toe. Taking careful note of the red leather jacket and short black shirt she’s wearing.

“I like that you’re curious,” Colt smiles as he looks back up at her face and subtly licks his lips. “Although self-preservation doesn’t seem to be your best trait.”

Ellie scoffs and pushes past him to enter his office. “I could take you on Colt. I haven’t used my magic the entire day.”

“Aw, saving yourself up for me? I’m touched,” Colt snickers as he follows her and closes the door behind him with a click of the lock.

Ellie immediately drops herself on the couch with a heavy sigh as she leans back and tilts her head to the ceiling. Colt raises an eyebrow at her, wanting to ask about the sigh, but he stops himself when he realizes that he’ll need alcohol first if he’s going to be talking to her about anything.

“Anything new to share to the class?” Colt asks as opens the mini fridge and throws her a bottle of beer. Ellie catches it and eyes the bottle suspiciously. Colt scoffs as he takes a seat next to her, peels off bottle cap like a sticker and tosses it on the coffee table in front of them. “Do you really think I’m gonna make you drink blood?”

“Mm,” Ellie agrees as she gathers her magic between her middle finger and thumb and flicks open the bottle cap which causes a loud pop to fill the room and the bottle cap to shoot up and embed itself on his office ceiling.

Colt frowns as he looks up at the bottle cap’s round indent on the ceiling. “You witches really need to understand spatial awareness beyond your magical bubble.”

“Oh we understand. We just don’t care,” Ellie smiles smugly as she drinks her beer. Colt rolls his eyes but he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips. Ellie drinks about half of it and places it down on the coffee table before she uses her magic and flicks her wrist to bring up a projected investigation board of the Kilat murder. Colt leans in, still absolutely at awe at how crisp and clear the image’s she projects, as his eyes glow with gold while he quickly takes in the information in front of him.

“This is what I’ve gathered so far. I looked into why a vampire or magical creature could possibly want from albularyo blood since that’s the only thing missing as of now but so far I haven’t found anything. It doesn’t give them any extra powers or anything so this murder is personally, not magically, motivated.”

“Yeah, we usually avoid drinking from magical creatures,” Colt scrunches his nose a little. “The blood tastes like metal. It’s gross,” Colt furrows his eyebrows at the look she gives him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ellie opens her mouth, ready to explain to him what human blood tastes like but decides that it’s a losing battle and just shakes her head.

“Anyway, there was no forced entry in any of the doors, windows and portals. This is why I wasn’t so sure it was a vampire. Maybe a ghoul or a magical creature that can walk through solid objects? But Mr. Ernesto doesn’t mention any of those kinds of creatures as customers in his book.”

“Let me see the book.”

Ellie flicks her wrist and brings up a page the book. “Those crossed out are either dead, not currently in the country, or have been abducted by the fae. The rest I’ve interviewed and cleared of motive or had solid alibis during the time of the murder. I only have two left to question. Jason Shaw and a vampire named Tobias. Do you know anyone with that name? I’m having difficulties tracking them down.”

“No,” Colt replies. “But I’ll get my crew to ask around, it shouldn’t be that difficult.”

Ellie nods, a little relieved that that part of the investigation is handled by someone else. She’s already gotten a lot of heat and shit for stretching out this investigation into its second month. Mona, the head witch of her department, is being constantly pressured by the higher ups to hex the case as quickly as possible. Although Mona tries her best to keep them from interfering too much with Ellie’s work, she knows that it’s only going to be a matter of time before they forcefully stop the investigation.

“So you did all of this? In the last month?”

“Huh?” Ellie pulls herself out of her thoughts and turns to look at Colt who looks back at her with awe and disbelief. She shifts on her seat, suddenly feeling a little shy under his golden gaze, before she waves away the projected investigation board. “Uh yeah. It’s my first case after all. I need to show them that I can do this, even on my own. Nobody wanted to partner up with a half-witch.”

“This is your first case?” Colt whistles appreciatively as he leans back on the couch. “And you managed to rope me in, a Primordial, to help you. I’m impressed.”

“That was the easy part,” Ellie teases as she leans back on the couch next to him, her body suddenly feeling tired and achy. “It helps that my dad is a detective too. I got it from him.”

“Your…mortal dad?” Colt says cautiously, not really sure how to approach the conversation without insulting her for being a half-witch, but Ellie merely shrugs as if she’s heard the question a million times.

“Yeah. My mother was the witch,” She smiles fondly. “A great one too.”

Colt frowns. “Was?”

“Abducted by the fae five years ago.”

Colt grimaces a little, not really wanting to venture into his thoughts of what it’s like to be abducted by the fae. “She must’ve done something pretty shitty to anger the fae.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ellie says as she turns to look at him, her eyes boring into his. “The Coven disowned my mother when she married my dad. The Agency was advised by the Coven not to investigate since she was not, lineage-wise, a witch anymore. So they didn’t.”

“Ah,” Colt says in realization. “So this is why you’re so stubborn about this case.”

She smirks as her eyes shine with mischief. “I’m a cliché after all.”

Colt nods, his body unconsciously leaning closer to hers. “Never thought about investigating it yourself?”

“I want to but can’t,” She shrugs and uses her magic to raise and swirl the rest of her beer on the coffee table. “I promised my dad I wouldn’t do it. That’s the only condition he had when I said I wanted to join the Agency. He investigated my mother’s abduction himself for two years—nearly drove him mad.”

“Ever want to just burn it down?” Colt says as his eyes glow with a golden fire, his voice tight and pained. “The whole of the Agency, right down to its foundation. Maybe then the creatures that deserved justice will finally get it.”

“And what about future cases like Ana’s?” Ellie sighs as she crosses her arms in front of her and the bottle of beer lands on the coffee table with a thump. “I hate it as much as you do and let me tell you, there’s a lot that needs to change in the Agency but there are good people fighting inside too. For people like Ana, me…you. That’s why I chose to stay, why I choose to fight. For now, at least.”

“You are so fucking annoying,” Colt says as he leans into her, his body magnetized to hers. “But I’m starting to realize that I like that.”

Ellie smirks as she leans her face closer to his. “Like I said, one of my better qualities.”

She doesn’t know who closed the gap—him or her—but it’s definitely as fiery and explosive as the kiss they shared in the nightclub nights before.

Ellie swings her legs over his lap, her lips glued to his, as Colt drops the bottle of beer with a thud on the floor in favor of gripping her hips tight in his hands. He pulls her down to his lap, her hips pressed against his, and she slips past a small moan against his lips and he easily pushes his tongue in to taste her.

She hurriedly pushes his jacket off of his shoulders and he moves his hand underneath her skirt to grip her thighs tight in his hand, his nails digging into skin.

“Fuck I want to taste you,” Colt groans as he fits his face into the side of her neck, his fangs lightly scraping her unblemished skin. “I’m curious. What does the blood of a half-witch taste like?”

Ellie lets out a small moan and delves her hands into his hair, gripping tight, before she grinds her hips against his. “Don’t know. Never had reviews.”

Colt chuckles at the tail end of a moan, his eyes lighting up in dark gold as he presses his lips on her racing pulse point. “Should I do the honors?”

Ellie smiles, opening her mouth to accept his invention, when the shrill sound of her ringtone breaks her out of his spell. She quickly untangles her limbs from his, her red lipstick smeared on her lips and her skirt pulled up her legs. She looks at Colt sitting on the couch, a smug and satisfied look on his face. He brings up his thumb and swipes the red lipstick she’s left on him as he bares his fangs in delight, his golden eyes never leaving her blues.

Ellie blushes, her face heating up at the image, as she clumsily digs through her red leather jacket to fish out her phone. “Uh yeah. Ellie—Detective Wheeler speaking. Yeah, Ingrid. No, I’m not busy. Just give me a sec,” She turns to look at Colt and holds the phone to her chest to cover the receiver. “I need to go.”

Colt frowns but recovers quickly and flicks his wrist to the door, his voice teasing and playful. “See you in four days, Miss Half a Witch.”

Ellie quickly exits the office door, pulling her skirt down as she walks, and makes her way out of the shop with her heart thumping hard and fast in her chest. She brings up the phone back to her ear and immediately pulls it away when she hears Ingrid’s loud voice.

“—can’t be serious! Was that Colt’s voice?!” Ingrid gushes, her voice shrill and high. “Ellie Wheeler you did not just sleep with a Primordial vampire!”

“I didn’t sleep with him!” Ellie defends as she hurriedly makes it to her car, buckles in her seatbelt and starts the engine before she drops her head on the steering wheel. “Just…tell me what you found Ingrid.”

“Nuh-uh you’re not getting away that easily. I expect all the dirty projections later!” Ingrid cackles as Ellie groans in exasperation before Ingrid’s voice drops to something serious. “Anyway, we finally got the approval to conduct an autopsy on the Kilat bodies and guess what we found?”

“Ingrid I literally wouldn’t be able to even if I tried, that’s your job.”

“What? Are you always this cranky after sex or is it just reserved for hot but rude vampires?” Ingrid laughs and Ellie glares at nothing. “Fine, anyway. So we found a huge cut to their femoral artery, that’s the vein behind your thigh. If a creature gets injured there—mortal or otherwise—you best expect to die of blood loss if left untreated. Not even a vampire’s saliva can stop blood loss that bad.”

“But wait,” Ellie scrunches her eyebrows and lifts her head off of the steering wheel. “You said there was no injury on the bodies.”

“Yeah, that’s the strange thing. The way the femoral artery was cut up should indicate a visible and pretty nasty injury—but we found nothing. I’ve asked around and no one has seen anything like this. It’s really weird.”

Ellie sighs as she kneads away the oncoming headache. “Thanks Ingrid, I’ll look into it more.”

“Yeah no problem,” Ingrid confirms before her voice lifts into something teasing and playful. “Now back to Colt. Was he like, you know? Hu—”

“Goodbye Ingrid,” Ellie cuts her off and tosses the phone on the passenger seat. She lets out a big sigh as she leans her head back on the seat. The possibilities swim in her head at the new information Ingrid has just presented her.

If the Kilat’s blood was drained by the femoral artery, what was with the vampire bite? And what would a creature do with close to ten liters of albularyo blood? Or did they just dump it out after the murders had been committed? If the end goal truly was just the murder, why go through all the trouble?

Ellie frowns. The possibility of the blood being dumped is there which means she’ll need a werewolf to help sniff out where the blood could’ve gone to. She could always ask Logan but she knows how iffy he is with blood and she certainly doesn’t want to push him to do things he doesn’t want to do. Logan’s already done enough for her for this case since he practically got her access to the Vault he’s supposed to be guarding.

Ellie sighs and starts her drive back to her apartment. For now, she’ll just follow the two leads she has. Maybe after a bottle of wine and a nice bubble bath, she’ll have a clearer head in four days when she’ll meet the next vampire on her list.

Jason Shaw.

A terrifying Primordial vampire with the power to see the memories of the creatures he feeds on.

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Operation Scary Date

A collaboration by @sloaners​ and myself for Sloaners’ Disastrous Discord’s spring event, based on the Terribly Romantic Prompt, “[Character] gets cursed by a ridiculous artifact and the cure is not much better with Love Epiphany.” Art by sloaners, writing by keepyourpantsongohan.

YOU MATCHED WITH TOBI ON TUESDAY.

Tobi: cum 2 my castle tonite

Yamato: Hello to you too. Can I ask about the pictures? It’s hard to see what you look like.

Tobi: ull see what i look like soon enough

Yamato: You’re kinda weird. Lucky I like that. Where do you live?

Tobi: the woods

Yamato: I’m going to bet you don’t get a lot of matches on here, huh?

Tobi: why would u say that

—

YOU MATCHED WITH TOBI ON TUESDAY.

Tobi: cum 2 my castle tonite

Isobu: strong opener; convince me.

Tobi: i can be a beast in my chambers

Isobu: if I had a gold coin for every time I heard that, I could put myself through knight school again.

Tobi: im... tall? and we matched so u must think im good-looking

Isobu: fair. where am I supposed to find this castle, anyway?

Tobi: the woods in the north under the light of the full moons glare at dusk Isobu: that’s oddly specific Tobi: everyones a critic

—

YOU MATCHED WITH TOBI ON TUESDAY.

Tobi: cum 2 my castle tonite

Sukea: okay.

Tobi: wait what just like that?

Sukea: yeah. is that a problem?

Tobi: no i mean... good. this is all according to plan

Sukea: that’s kind of a weird thing to say.

Tobi: im new at this

Sukea: dating, or talking to other people?

Tobi: pass. north woods at 8?

Sukea: i might be late. there are black cats in those woods, and i’d hate to cross their paths.

Tobi: dont worry about time. we will have plenty of it soon

Sukea: do you always talk to your dates this way?

Tobi: pretty much

—

The third time Rin’s mace gets stuck in a tree branch, she wonders if it was entirely a good decision to let Kakashi make her Kindling profile.

There’s something to be said for quality screening, and the type of images one displays on their profile says a lot for who might be drawn to match. She didn’t even take a good look at her alias before they began their attempts to swipe through every enchanted being in their area. While Rin has always considered her taste in partners a little bit out there, it’s never been quite so literal before. One league back, she swears she heard the voice of a man yelling from above.

This better be a good date, Rin thinks, whacking some of the foliage out of her face.

“It helps if you go under instead of through,” says a voice behind her.

Startled, Rin turns around. “Tenzō?”

Partly obscured by the denseness of the woods, she sees her friend wave at her. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else here tonight.”

“Me either,” Rin says, bending and reaching out a hand to pull him forward. The forest seems happy to bend around him, twisting to make room for him to stand beside her. “You’re not Tobi, are you? There were a lot of masks and odd lighting choices.”

Tenzō’s eyebrows disappear under his face plate. “Tobi?”

“My date,” she explains.

He folds his arms, making a speculative noise. “Mine too,” Tenzō replies, narrowing his eyes.

“Sleaze, or trap?” Rin asks.

“What time is your date?”

“A quarter after the eighth hour.”

With a sigh, Tenzō declares, “Sleaze. My date’s at half past. A decent kidnapper would make sure his victims wouldn’t cross paths.”

Rin shrugs. “Doesn’t say much for his dating strategy either. How smart can you really be to meet up with so many dates at the same location? And who’d choose to be in these woods, anyway?”

“We’re here,” Tenzō points out with a dry look.

Grinning, Rin replies, “Yes, well, we think Kakashi’s handsome. No one ever said anything good about our taste.”

“I wonder how his date is going,” Tenzō muses, laughing. “Better than ours I hope.”

Rin’s smile fades as a heavy wind from the sky catches her attention. A great dragon bears down upon them, hurtling unevenly as if it has just grown its wings overnight. She raises her voice to be heard over the rustling trees.  “Definitely better than ours. Is it just me or does the cloak on that dragon look familiar?”

“Trap,” says Tenzō apologetically, as a set of claws wrap around his waist.

—

“So… does he do this often?” Kakashi asks, carefully balancing the next piece on top of his tower.

The creature responds with a, “Be quiet, brat,” from beneath his heavy pile of robes. Kakashi suspects the garment is mostly for show. Whoever’s underneath shifts their weight too much to be all that big. But then again, the dragon had caught him off-guard, so perhaps his instincts are a little off tonight.

“You know, I might’ve come upstairs anyway,” Kakashi tells him. “If he’d asked me nicely.”

When no response is given, Kakashi continues, stacking piece after jenga piece by himself.

“That’s traditionally how the date thing is done. First conversation, then we decide if we want to spend the night together. He must be very out of practice.”

His companion mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“We don’t need a chaperone,” Kakashi points out helpfully. “I promise. I’m a very respectful date… what did the other one call you? Kakuzu?”

His question is met with a groan of disapproval, which Kakashi takes to mean ‘yes.’ “Kakuzu,” he says, in the same reasonable voice he uses when tutoring his students, “You seem tired. Really, I’m fine here. Where would I go?”

He gestures to their surroundings. The single window has nothing below it but a moat, and there are no other points of entry. Kakashi’s thought of at least thirty plans of escape, and for twenty-nine and a half of them, he doesn’t like his odds.

“Listen, if it’s the money you’re worried about… I have some gold on me. It seems like we’ll be staying in tonight, anyway.”

Kakuzu’s posture shifts at the mention of payment. Bingo.

Kakashi throws his coin purse, and tries not to blink at the distinctly claw-like hands that grab it. His plans for observation go out the window with Kakuzu when he realizes his bodyguard is hoisting himself across the bricks with hundreds of thick grey tendrils attached to his body.

He sighs, and begins searching the tower.

If Kakashi had to guess the personality of the chamber’s owner based on his belongings, he wouldn’t know where to start. In the closet he finds at least twelve different shades of the same cape. Looking underneath the bed yields a startlingly life-like statue of a man cast half in black and half in white that Kakashi swears is winking at him. He moves onto the desk quickly after that.

The book he finds in it reads, in bold lettering, DO NOT TOUCH, which seems promising. There are dogs on the cover. That seems promising too.

Tenzō and Rin are probably laughing at me somewhere, he thinks, as he pulls it into his grasp.

The crash from the window is not nearly as disconcerting as the beam of blinding light that follows.

— 

“That is not how you greet a date,” says Tenzō, affronted.

Kakashi gapes. “Tenzō? Rin? What are you doing here?”

Brushing himself off, Tenzō shrugs. “Being attacked by a dragon. Why are you here?”

“I’m on a date,” Kakashi explains. He looks at the cloaked figure still upturned on the floor. “With him, I think.”

Rin nudges Tobi with her boot. “You arranged a date with all three of us on the same night?”

Tenzō looks heavenward. “Is that really what we’re mad about?”

Rin and Kakashi look at each other, and then nod at Tenzō. “A little, yeah.”

“I, for one, would like to know who we’re dealing with,” Tenzō remarks, crouching down by their host’s face. He pulls a spade out from his robes, and prods him sharply in the side. When this elicits no response, Tenzō rolls the man over.

Two intakes of breath punctuate the motion. “Rin,” says Kakashi urgently.

“I didn’t know either,” she replies. Shifting forward, Rin places a hand on Tenzō’s shoulder. “I’ll heal him.”

Tenzō rises, glancing between his two companions. The room is silent but for the sound of Rin's healing magic and the slight creaking of the door. “You know him?”

“It’s Obito,” says Kakashi.

“Obito, your old and dead teammate? That Obito?”

“I’m not dead,” says Obito, sitting up abruptly with the aid of Rin’s healing magic. Tenzō yelps.

Kakashi feels a little lightheaded. “We need to talk.”

—

Reconciled to the fact this evening is going to make no sense at all, Kakashi extends a hand to Obito. After a moment of hesitation, Obito takes it. There is a warmth between their fingertips that Kakashi takes to be familiarity, until suddenly, where there was empty space, there’s a small dog that Kakashi lunges to catch.

“Well hello, are you lost?” Kakashi asks, once the puppy is cradled in his arms. The Chow Chow merely tucks itself under Kakashi’s chin, which is a better answer than he could’ve expected.

Tenzō elbows him, careful not to jostle the animal. “What, you’re finally showing us what your powers are? Right here?”

Rin levels him with a doubtful look. “I have a hard time believing you could make infinite dogs and you limited yourself to eight. Konoha should be overrun with wagging tails by now.”

Shaking his head, Kakashi replies, “I didn’t make him appear.” He pauses, looking at Obito. “At least, I don’t think I did? Obito?”

Obito’s eyes narrow, and then widen. “You read my diary,” he says suddenly, with surprising indignation for a man who has confessed to running a magical terrorist ring.

“Diary?” Kakashi repeats, adjusting his grip on the dog. When his fingers touch, there’s twice as many puppies in his arms as before. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. This is the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Grabbing the book still lying open upon his desk, Obito shows them the same cover Kakashi had been inspecting earlier. “Anyone who lays a hand on this journal aside from me becomes overwhelmed by beasts!”

“They do look ferocious,” Rin teases, scratching the second dog behind the ears.

Obito eyes the scene, uncertain. “Curses aren’t an exact science! The book knows what it’s meant to do.”

Tenzō steps closer to Obito, considering him. “If you’re so worried about what’s going to happen to Kakashi, then take the curse off of him.”

Obito hesitates. “Wizards... are supposed to stand by their principles.”

This time, it’s Rin who steps closer, boxing Obito in. “You don’t know how to reverse the spell, do you?” she asks, trying not to laugh.

“Curses aren’t an exact science,” Obito says again, defensively.

A groan echoes throughout the room from his former teammates. “Why would you use an enchantment you don’t know how to break?” Kakashi asks, while the dogs try to climb up his shoulders. Three, now, as he reaches out to steady one with both hands.

“If it stumps me, it should stump all of my enemies.”

Tenzō puts his head in his hands. “I hate that he’s starting to make sense to me.”

“It happens sometimes,” Kakashi says sympathetically. The long-suffering tone is belied by the puppy licking his cheek above his mask.

—

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Obito asks, clearing his throat for the third time since they’ve arrived. “Doesn’t Minato-sensei have a family now? Should we really be bothering him with this kind of thing?”

“It’s not our fault you broke Kakashi,” Tenzō mutters under his breath. They’ve improvised leashes for the dogs out of some of his gardening supplies, and dogs, which now number four, are mostly under his rein, though they keep tugging forward to approach Kakashi. One dog remains in Kakashi’s hands, thankfully keeping them occupied.

Kakashi opens his mouth, perhaps to argue the point of this curse being so terrible. However, whatever he is about to say is interrupted by the door opening to reveal a blond man in robes that look they belong more at a discotheque than at a ritual.

“So, what brings you kids here?” Minato asks, smiling broadly. “It’s unlike you to come for a visit unannounced.”

Kakashi and Rin shuffle aside so their final companion is clearly visible. “Obito?” Minato asks, gaping.

—

“That is quite the problem,” Minato muses, a hand at his chin. “It’s not a spell I’ve ever heard of before. And you have absolutely no idea how to counter it?”

Eyes turn to Obito once more, and he shakes his head. Kakashi sighs. “We were hoping you would know, sensei.”

“I know a few general counter-curses, but I suspect they won’t help in this situation. They’re for less powerful spells, like warts, or being turned into a frog. That second one’s surprisingly common, you know.”

Rin’s brow furrows. “Then there’s nothing we can do? Kakashi’s going to need to use his hands at some point.”

“I didn’t say that,” says Minato, with a knowing smile. “It’s common for some magical beings to cancel out a spell by using one that uses the same underlying magic. So in this case, it’s possible for us to free Kakashi by finding a curse of equal measure. Did you know that my teleportation magic is derivative of a curse?”

“Isn’t dealing with unfamiliar curse magic what brought us here in the first place?” Tenzō asks.

Minato tilts the brim of his hat. “It all depends on the strength of the spell Obito used. If he used a spell that’s stronger than my curse, then we’ll have to look for another answer.”

—

“And a second curse was supposed to have helped?” gripes Kakashi, clutching his forehead. “Now I can’t control where I go! This can’t be good for the dogs.”

“Well, there’s one other solution to your predicament,” says Minato, with a pensive gaze. “True love’s kiss.”

Kakashi looks pointedly at the ceiling. “If I were in love, why would I be on a dating app?” he asks, aware of four separate gazes on him. Well, eight, if he counts the dogs.

Minato shrugs, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying you are, I’m just saying that it’s a method to break a curse.”

“Have you ever tried it?” Obito asks skeptically.

With a pointed look, Minato rejoins, “I usually memorize the counter-curse before I try out a new spell, Obito.” The younger man reddens, and glances around the room like the criticism might be directed at someone else. Minato stifles a laugh.

“You should try, Kakashi,” Rin says decidedly. “It’s better than not doing anything.”

Kakashi makes a startled noise. “Who are you suggesting I kiss?”

She shrugs, and gestures between her, Tenzō, and Obito. “Take your pick.”

The range of expressions Kakashi manages to convey with only his eyes in that minute is thoroughly impressive. His eyes linger on each of them, before he shakes his head. “I’m not going to choose between my friends,” Kakashi says firmly.

Obito huffs. “Then I’ll do it,” he says, reaching for Kakashi. Kakashi looks at him in him in surprise. “I broke you, I should fix you,” Obito adds, with a wry look at Tenzō.

Kakashi sighs. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.” Flushing, he adds to Minato, “Can you…?” Dutifully, Minato turns around and covers his ears.

He lets Obito pull him closer, and adds to Rin and Tenzō, “Hold onto us. If this doesn’t work, I don’t want to end up stuck in Minato-sensei’s ceiling.”

And so, with Tenzō at his back, and Rin at Obito’s, Kakashi closes the gap between them. With his lips brushing Obito’s, he reaches blindly for one of the hands at his side, and smiles when nothing happens.

Then, the ground is pulled out from under them.

— 

“What happened to Obito and Tenzō?” Kakashi asks, trying to peer around the pumpkin.

A very loud, familiar voice, echoes through the room. “I’m Tenzō,” says the pumpkin, and Kakashi and Rin nearly jump out of their skin.

Carefully, they make their way to the other side of him. Sure enough, as if he were a jack-o-lantern, there is a vague impression of their friend’s features, along with a tuft of brown hair. The small frown is so characteristic of Tenzō that for a moment, Kakashi feels more normal and at ease than he has all night. Unwittingly, he imagines Tenzō in his own garden, and tries not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” says Tenzō, even though it is.

Rin reaches out to pat his orange cheek. “Well, you make a cuter pumpkin than Obito did a dragon.”

“Hey!” a muffled voice interjects, offended.

Rin steps back to inspect the scene, trying to place the source of the sound. “Obito? Are you in there too?”

“Not quite,” Kakashi observes. He gestures towards the wayward limbs and messy hair sticking out under Tenzō. “Are you alright under there, Obito?”

Obito groans. “I’ve been better,” is his flat reply.

“Is anyone going to try to reverse this spell?” Tenzō demands. “I can’t exactly double up on curses like this.”

“Obito’s lips might already be touching some part of you,” Rin says with a giggle.

Kakashi can’t hold back his smile. “I think it might need to be his face, Rin. Stay there, Tenzō,” says Kakashi, like Tenzō’s not occupying fifty percent of the room.

Pulling down his mask again, Kakashi aims his lips at what he hopes represents Tenzō’s head. Where he touches, it glows, and he can’t tell if it’s the magic or what it looks like for a pumpkin to blush. Through another burst of light, the rough texture of the pumpkin is replaced by Tenzō’s warm skin. Definitely blushing, Kakashi notes, as he hears newly-warped buckles and accessories from Tenzō’s stretched clothing hit the dungeon floor.

When Tenzō recovers his voice, he says, with a hint of orange still in his cheeks, “The first one of you to make a gardening joke is being left in the dungeon.”

TO BE CONTINUED....

[rosemaidenvixen]

Christmas in New Trollmarket

Final part of @mintharpy‘s secret santa gift from last year, hope you all enjoy,

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and Blessed Yule to you all!

Ao3

Christmas Day

Human and troll sleep cycles were not at all similar, due to one species having a fatal reaction to sunlight and needing far less sleep in general. But on this particular morning, both species put in effort to wake up in their underground dwelling at the same time as the sun rose on the surface.

Jim stretched and yawned. For simplicity’s sake, the human visitors’ sleeping area had been set up in rooms immediately adjacent to Blinky’s library. Due to Jim’s desire to help with holiday preparations late into the night, he had eventually fallen asleep on the library floor itself.

Jim blinked the sleep out of his eyes and waited for everyone else to wake up.

Claire and her parents were the first group to walk in, with Barbara and Strickler following shortly behind them.

“Morning,” Jim greeted them “You guys sleep alright?”

“Uh huh,” Claire replied with a yawn “What’s for breakfast?”

Jim picked up a tray from one of the library’s workbenches “Cookies; red plate for humans, green plate for trolls,”

Claire walked up and plucked a cookie from the human plate “How’d you make the troll compatible cookies?”

“The two main differences are cooking time and the addition of large amounts of sand,” he said while popping one of the aforementioned cookies into his mouth, grinning at Claire’s nauseated expression.

It was at that moment Toby ran into the library, with his Nana, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH on his heels “Are you guys ready for presents!”

“Not before everyone’s had dessert for breakfast,” Claire said through a mouthful of cookie crumbs and frosting. Toby deflated, but only slightly. Ten minutes later, once everyone had a Christmas confection in one hand and a caffeinated beverage in the other, Toby made a beeline for the tree.

“Okay, now it’s present time,” he grabbed two packages “These ones first,” he handed the larger of the boxes to AAARRRGGHH “This one’s for you,”

AAARRRGGHH opened the package as delicately as he could manage. An elated look appeared on his face once he discovered the box’s contents; a Christmas stocking stuffed to the brim with used argyle socks.

“SOCKS!”

AAARRRGGHH proceed to chow down with gusto. Wasting no time, Toby handed the next box to Jim.

Curious Jim unwrapped it, revealing the last thing he ever would have expected. .

“A sweater?”

“I knitted it myself,” Nana piped up.

Jim smiled at her in gratitude while he pulled the troll-sized sweater on over his t shirt, making sure it didn’t snag on his horns “Thanks Mrs. Domzalski, I love it,”

Noticing Claire wink at him while pulling a familiar package out from under the tree, Jim turned to Toby “Now it’s your turn,”

Claire approached and handed Toby the box “Merry Christmas TP,”

Eagerly, Toby tore into the offered present “Let’s see; hammer, chisel, tweezers, and is this a crystal pendulum?”

“Actually Tobes, it’s a Troll-standard geology kit,”

“Really!?”

“You betcha,” Claire cut in “The pendulum crystals can be used for infrared, UV, radiation, and apparently the magic levels,”

“We made a written guide to what they all do, so don’t try to use the magic crystal as a geiger counter,”

“Awesomesauce!”

While the three of them were busy going over Toby’s new gear, AAARRRGGHH pulled a box comparable in size to a treasure chest from under the tree “FOR BLINKY,”

“Oh, for me? You shouldn’t have, but since you have already gone to such trouble, let’s see what we have here….” Blinky tore off the paper, revealing a large old-fashioned trunk

Barbara smiled at him “This one is from AAARRRGGHH, Strickler, and me,”

Even more curious now, Blinky lifted the trunk’s lid “How joyous! you have gifted me with tomes to expand my new library!”

“It’s a combination of human and Changeling literature that we thought you would enjoy,” Strickler explained.

“I recommend you start with this one,” Barbara pulled out a large, maroon colored book that had a very simplistic design. AAARRRGGHH looked noticeably bashful.

“Why this one in particular?”

“AAARRRGGHH wrote it himself,” Strickler said matter-of-factly “It’s an autobiography of sorts,”

“Truly?!”

“OTHERS HELPED,” AAARRRGGHH mumbled while sheepishly avoiding eye contact.

Blinky clasped the book to his chest with all four limbs “I will treasure it for the rest of my days,”

Knowing that the adults in their group would be preoccupied with Blinky’s new books for the time being, Jim took the opportunity to pull a red and gold envelope off of the tree “This is for you Claire,”

Claire opened the envelope and squealed at the contents “Papa Skull tickets!”

“The concert’s next April, I thought that maybe we could go together?,”

She leaped up and threw her arms around his neck “Of course we can! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Breaking the hug Claire ran to the tree and pulled out a large gift bag “Now here’s your gift from me,”

Jim pulled out the tissue paper to reveal a professional looking leather case. He opened the case, exposing blades of different shapes and sizes lining either side; with each one tucked into an individual sleeve.

“Chef’s knives!”

“I figured that it was time chef Jim got a professional set,”

“Thank you, they’re perfect,”

Barbara picked up three boxes and handed them to Jim, Claire, and Toby “You guys should open these at the same time,”

Together, they tore off the paper and opened the boxes, Jim pulled out a thick black book and noticed Toby and Claire with identical ones “Are these scrapbooks?”

“We thought that you kids would like something to keep all your memories of Arcadia in, so we all collaborated and made these,” Nana explained.

“Don’t worry,” Ophelia reassured them “We left out the embarrassing baby pictures,”

“Most of them,” Javier corrected.

Claire hugged her scrapbook “Thanks, these are great,”

Blinky met Jim and Claire’s eyes with four of his. Upon receiving nods of confirmation from both of them, he grabbed four boxes from under the tree and approached the rest of the group with them “We had planned to ship these to you as soon as we could contact a reputable postage service, but since you’re already here….”

He handed a box to Barbara, the Nuñez’s, Toby, and AAARRRGGHH, respectively. Jim and Claire shared exstatic grins, these particular gifts to their families were the ones that they were looking forward to giving the most.

Toby finished opening his first “Is this a….mirror ball?” the others pulled out their identical reflective spheres with looks of varying confusion.

Strickler on the other hand, looked at the gifts with awe and reverence “Are those….”

“Scrying stones!” Blinky shouted, unable to contain his glee.

“Oh yeah,” Toby said “What are scrying stones?”

“They’re crystals enchanted so that anyone who owns one can use it to communicate to anyone else that owns a stone, regardless of distance,” Claire clarified.

“Yep,” Jim chipperly added “Now we can talk whenever we want,” During the journey to New Trollmarket communication had been spotty at the best of times. There was even a period of almost three weeks where they were completely out of contact. Jim and Claire had been talking about more stable forms of communication with Blinky for a while. This was the solution they had ultimately come up with.

“Thank you so much,” Ophelia said while lovingly cradling her stone.

“They are also exceedingly rare,” Strickler added “It must have take a great deal of effort for you to acquire this many,”

Eyes brimming with tears, Barbara came over to Jim and embraced him “Now you can call twice a day,”

“I’ll do that, Merry Christmas Mom,”

Now that all the presents had been opened, everyone just sat back to eat their cookies and relax in the decorated library. Eventually, Toby stood up “I don’t know about you guys, but feel like going outside and enjoying the white Christmas,”

“Sounds great,” Claire got to her feet “How about it Jim? Want to pop the sunlight stone in your amulet so Toby and I can kick your butt in a snowball war?”

Jim smirked “Oh I’m not going to be the one getting my butt kicked,”

*

One change into winter clothes and sunlight-immunity armor later; Jim, Claire, and Toby were in the woods above New Trollmarket, wading through the copious amounts of snow on the ground.

“This is amazing!” Toby shouted into the snow-covered trees “We never got snow like this at home,”

“I know, it’s incredible!” Claire said while twirling in the falling flakes.

Jim smiled at his friends “Maybe this can be a new tradition,”

“Sounds good to me,” Toby said before flopping down on his back to make a snow angel. Jim chuckled at his friend’s antics, only to feel an icy ball of slush hit the back of his head.

Claire looked smugly at the two of them while casually rolling another snowball in her hands “I believe someone said something about kicking our butts in a snowball war?”

Toby got to his feet, all business now “Oh you want a war? Well you got one,”

The next several hours were spent in nonstop, frosty combat. Whether it was setting up ambushes, constructing forts of varying size and architectural integrity, or no-holds-barred three way fights. Occasionally, some of the adults would show up to check on them. Mostly they stuck to the sidelines, prefering to watch the kids over joining in their winter warfare. A notable exception was when Barbara and Strickler checked up on them and Strickler decided to get his hands dirty. He did quite well at first, setting up a multitude of successful blitz attacks on each of them. Only when the trio were able to corner Strickler and dump a literal truckload of snow on him did he and Barbara decide it was time to go back down.

After sunset Blinky and AAARRRGGHH came up to join them, by that point they had moved on from snowball fights to sculpting snowmen. With the additional help they were able to make six snowmen, a vaguely AAARRRGGHH shaped snow mound, and a veritable army of snow-gnomes. By that time it had gotten completely dark, and Claire and Toby were starting to feel the cold, so they retired to Blinky’s library.

Nana met them at the entrance “You kids have fun?”

All three gave sounds of assent.

“Well here,” she placed a mug in each of their hands “Have some hot coco,”

The three of them took deep sips from each of their mugs, Jim smacked his lips at the delicious taste “How’d you manage to make a troll version of hot cocoa?”

“It was actually pretty easy,” Barbara chimed in “As it turns out hot chocolate is already pretty similar to existing troll drinks, I just had to swap a few ingredients,”

Claire sniffed Jim’s mug and made a face “Do we want to know what’s in this?”

“Most certainly not,” Blinky repiled.

They all settled in to comfortable silence, before Javier spoke up “So Barbara, I have to ask, an exploding turkey?”

She and Jim chucked at the memories his question brought up.

“It’s embarrassing really,” Barbara replied “One year I was trying to roast a turkey for Christmas dinner, and to this day I don’t know what I did, but he turkey exploded in the oven,”

Ophelia stared at her slack-jawed “Really!?”

“Yep,” Jim replied “It scared the hell out of me at the time,”

“We heard the explosion all the way over in our house,” Toby added.

Barbara chuckled “I was just glad that I didn’t need to call the fire department,”

At this the elder Nuñezs smirked at each other while Claire groaned “It’s funny you should mention that…”

“Dad, please, not this story,”

“Well now you have to tell us,” Jim said eagerly.

Javier continued “One Christmas when Claire was a toddler, she somehow managed to stick her head through the stair banisters and get stuck,”

Claire moaned in mortification.

“We ended up having to call the fire department to cut her free,” Ophelia concluded before turning to the Domzalskis “How about you, any stories?”

“Nothing that crazy,” Toby replied “Just the one year where the tree fell on me,”

“He thought that the elf on the shelf was trying to kill him,” Nana clarified.

Blinky stood up “If I may, while us trolls do not share many of your human holidays, during the festival celebrating the discovery of the Arcadian Hearthstone, I consumed so much glug that I became inebriated to the extent that I invited a colony of gnomes to share our living space,”

AAARRRGGHH nodded in confirmation “VENDEL NOT HAPPY,”

Jim watched as they all continued on sharing stories of disastrous holidays and drunken hijinks. His mom had been right. Christmas this year was nothing like it had been in the past, but it had been new and amazing.

He cleared his throat “Well I for one am looking forward to all the mishaps Christmas at New Trollmarket is sure to have,”

His friends and family all laughed and agreed with him before the discussion once again turned to happy memories of the past and all their hopeful ideas for the future, as the first Christmas of New Trollmarket came to a peaceful end.

[thesinglesjukebox]

DUA LIPA - PHYSICAL

[7.50]

It's okay! Move that boogie body!

Leah Isobel: It is a dark and stormy night. In a sinister science lab located somewhere in Carmen Sandiego's plush pomo lair, a pop singer plugs in a neon light, shrugs into a next-season Gaultier lab coat and gets to work. In the reflection of her gold-tinted goggles we see her add one (1) part Extract of "Into You," one (1) part Juice of Newton-John, and four (4) drops of Synthesizer Spice into a contoured beaker. She turns on the flame of a Bunsen burner; stream gushes from her concoction like a geyser, emitting a high, keening refrain. She whispers a few luscious words into the steam -- "diamond," "sssimulation," "adrenaline" -- but her experiment still lacks a certain something. Then -- BOOM! -- in a thundercrash of lightning, it hits her. Eureka! She turns and sees her reflection illuminated in the glass of an emergency axe container, kept onsite in case of fire. "Well," she chuckles to herself as she breaks the glass with a four-inch stiletto heel, "I am creating something... hot." Axe in hand, she chops the neon light into pieces and stuffs the shards, now glittering like a million sequined dancefloors, into the beaker. With the addition of this Decoction of Disco, her potion bubbles... it burbles... then KABOOM: it explodes the entire building and half of the surrounding city! She stands in the wreckage as thunder splits the sky above and sirens wail in the distance. We see Dua's eyes glow green before she throws her head back to the sky and screams: "GAY RIIIIIGHTS!" [9]

William John: Probably the best example of what parts of the Internet's stan culture would facetiously refer to as "gay rights" from a mainstream musical artist since... the last Dua Lipa single, or, failing that, "Into You." Like those precedents, "Physical" is camp but magisterial; playful but extremely melodramatic; sweeping, dance floor ready, and dripping with an exultant swagger. Her reminder to "hold on, just a little tighter" at the bridge is, truthfully, a hollow gesture; at that stage, the listener is so deeply embroiled in her glorious disco caprice as to not really be capable of gripping anything at all. [10]

Jackie Powell: It couldn't be clearer that Dua Lipa had something to prove not only to herself, but to the pop music intelligentsia on her sophomore offering. What has struck me most about the Future Nostalgia cycle is how Dua is executing every facet of it with confidence. On this track, she's not afraid of hitting notes that eclipse the breadth of her previous singles, especially on the bridge. "Physical" is a representative offering of exactly what she's aiming to prove. Each track we've heard so far reflects a different decade accompanied with a modern polish. I don't think I'm the only one who believes Olivia Newton-John's '80s exercise sexual metaphor smash "Physical" deserves the tribute it's getting here. There's a clear homage paid to her and to Patti LaBelle on Lipa's own "Physical." I'm going to interpret her lyric "We created something phenomenal" as a bit of a double-entendre. Not only is it about sex in the narrative of the track, but it's a comment on Lipa's approach to this era and her confidence on every single part of it. The sexual symbolism isn't just in the lyrics, but also in the track's composition and the narrative communicated in the visual treatment. The vocal highs that she hits on the bridge represent a climax musically and sexually. She has so much confidence in the visual treatment, she spends most of it braless. That takes guts. [9]

Tobi Tella: Dua Lipa's perceived lack of personality has turned out to actually be lack of a schtick preventing her from artistically evolving, something many of her peers are plagued with. Also, I've died and gone to gay heaven. [9]

Alfred Soto: The way Dua Lipa's unexpected bon mots and smoky sultriness ride the beat and compete with the strings compensate for a production too dressed up in leg warmers and headbands for my taste -- I mean, her exhortations are more fearsome than erotic. [7]

Julian Axelrod: Pop's '80s revival arms race has escalated to its natural endpoint: the accidental exhumation of Olivia Newton-John. I wish Dua Lipa had used "let's get physical" in a more literal iteration; singing it over hyperdrive synths guarantees it'll be never played in its intended setting, especially when she has half the energy of ONJ. But she hit the mark where it counts: This is going to rule spin classes for the rest of the year. [6]

Brad Shoup: A throwback training-montage track that suggests sex but is really about dancing and Olivia Newton-John erasure. This is Stranger Things pop. [5]

Thomas Inskeep: Sex is natural, sex is fun, sex is best when soundtracked by throbbing '80s synths. [6]

Ashley Bardhan: Okay, fine, I enjoy horny music. Sue me! This song is what would happen if ABBA was brought back to life as a bunch of hot 20-year-olds in little shirts from Fashion Nova. The "let's get physical" chorus feels a little lazy since it's a direct lift from Olivia Newton-John's 1981 hit, but this is a great song to listen to while thinking about that video of Charli XCX holding poppers. No complaints here. [7]

Alex Clifton: I've underestimated Dua Lipa. Her first album had some hits and misses, but Future Nostalgia is shaping up to be one of the best pop releases of 2020 based on the strength of its singles. "Physical" is a cascade of rainbow lights in a roller rink and makes me long to go out to a club, one where I can get down in a huge crowd of people and dance my white-girl ass off poorly. I'm an extreme introvert, so anything that makes me want to leave the house and be around strangers is powerful stuff indeed. It's a little cheesy, but who cares? It's a love letter to the '80s with all the campiness a song citing Olivia Newton-John should have. I'm desperately in love with Dua Lipa after hearing this, and I have a feeling "Physical" will be one of my favourite songs of the year. [9]

Stephen Eisermann: Dua Lipa has quietly become the pop superstar that so many of us wanted Carly Rae to be. Both women make incredible music, but it is Dua who has found commercial success; after hearing "Physical," it seems pretty obvious why. It's a retro-laden, power-pop track that is extraordinary only in the way Dua delivers it. What should be pedestrian instead is hypnotic, infectious, and oh so delicious. [8]

Lauren Gilbert: I promised a friend I'd blurb this song, and now that I've sat down to write it, I have nothing to say. It is a perfect pop song -- Dua knocks it out of the park on this record. I keep getting distracted from writing jamming to the track. I'm dancing while lying down on my couch. She created something phenomenal; we are left with no choice but to stan. [10]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I've justified Dua Lipa's dearth of personality in years past, but this is where things don't add up: her dead-eyed singing makes no sense during the chorus, whose synths lack the fervor to make up for clinical vocal melodies. Around this time last year, we had Lizzo's "Juice"; now we have "Physical" as an example of '80s pastiche that only feels like it exudes energy and passion and charm. [2]

Will Adams: It's neat to have a single that's its own Initial Talk remix, but the synthpop revivalism is a bit too literal, to the point of putting all its chips on an Olivia Newton-John quote. It's not until the bridge -- "keep on DANCING!" -- where the drama locks in and starts, but only starts, to feel real. [6]

Kylo Nocom: Dua Lipa, determined more than ever to win the Popjustice £20 Music Prize, accidentally transforms into Alice Chater in the process. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: If "Physical" being by Dua Lipa wasn't hypertargeted enough to the Popjustice set, is that the synth progression from Saint Etienne's "No Cure for the Common Christmas" in the intro and beneath the chorus? It's certainly the same height of drama. The track attached isn't quite so charged: a little too Lady Gaga circa "Applause" and a little too Peloton instructor quoting Olivia Newton-John for absolutely no reason besides the culture deciding at some point to make the phrase a permanent, meaningless meme. (The song doesn't even sound particularly '80s; the disco strings are the decade prior, and the vocal squiggles on the verse are so specifically 2016 a time traveler's on their way to erase them.) Dua Lipa only betrays a personality on the spoken-word bridge; ironic how that and the vaporous intro, the least physical things on this track, are the most thrilling. [7]

Vikram Joseph: The intro feels like a prickling at the back of your neck, the one-line pre-chorus feels like plummeting six floors in a broken elevator, and the chorus is such a headrush you can practically smell the poppers: "Physical"'s thrills might be straightforward, but they're visceral as fuck. There are vintage Lady Gaga vibes, the "come on!"s are surely a nod to "We Are Your Friends," and the whole thing reminds me, inexplicably, of Bon Jovi's "It's My Life." But Dua Lipa is starting to make this all seem effortless, and the panache with which she delivers "Physical" easily pulls it clear of the gravitational field of its forebears. [9]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: "Physical" dares us to be the boldest versions of ourselves. It finds itself at the perfect intersection of confidence and lust. Dua Lipa is flirting with you with a playfulness she can only possess because she already knows you're going home together -- and she won't let you leave until the dancing is done. Dancing here is instinct, it's synths that sound as sweet as they do sinister, it's salty like the sweat that rolls down your forehead after you've been, well, physical. Dua Lipa is crushing the Confessions on a Dance Floor album that I've long been waiting for Lady Gaga to make. Dance floor music has long been my site of refuge and catharsis, so it's refreshing to be reminded that it can still sound so immediately, eminently thrilling. [9]

Kayla Beardslee: This doesn't quite reach the heights of "Don't Start Now," but damn it comes close. "Physical" should, in theory, be a cookie-cutter pop girl release, but Dua proves once again that she is the most important element in her music. The producers are doing everything right too, but who else could pull off her endearing smirk in "common love isn't for us" or that wonderful growl in "follow the noise"? And Dua takes us through a transcendental bridge that highlights the best qualities of her voice: singing simple lyrics that say everything they need to, she's breathless yet confident, desperate for touch yet satisfied with the musical world she's helped to create. Something phenomenal, indeed: this rollout has been a joy to follow. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Physical" takes the opposite approach to "Don't Start Now" -- while that song's studio version swallows up its singer in a beautifully constructed, sterile disco pastiche (the live versions and remixes are much better), turning her into just one more retro cog, "Physical" makes her the center of attention. The production around her is good enough (the synth preset change right before the chorus starts is especially nice), but not particularly coherent or hooky on its own. In the vacuum left, Dua gets to have more fun, charismatically switching between vocal styles and walking around like she owns the place. [8]

Jibril Yassin: A powerhouse vocal colliding headfirst with production that's neither plodding nor limp. It's a song that's meant to feel like a blockbuster and after a few failed tries, it's thrilling to hear Dua Lipa finally nail the landing and sound like the superstar she wants to be. [7]

Michael Hong: "Physical" is magnetic. Its pulse is unrelenting, its atmosphere is shadowy and captivating, and Dua Lipa gives possibly her best vocal performance. There's no sense of the up-and-coming performer who delivered everything with stolid execution, instead, "Physical" is a sly wink of a pre-chorus leading to a forceful command: "baby, keep on dancing like you ain't got a choice." Dua Lipa is at the helm, all thoughts and any other desires are out the window, and the night is neverending. [7]

Joshua Lu: Several of Dua Lipa's past hit songs have relied on a marketable veneer of cool: "New Rules" works because she's the straight-talker friend giving advice, "Don't Start Now" necessitates a stoic character who can't be bothered to fret about her ex, and even on collaborations like "One Kiss" does Dua employ a rather unemotional voice, like she's a blank canvas for Calvin Harris' more playful and engaging production. "Physical" feels like such a departure for Dua not just because of its obvious throwback sound, but because this veneer of cool is completely torn down when the song reaches its rushing chorus. She sounds more and more desperate as her voice climbs and the synths soar above her, and her cries of "come on" ring as desperate instead of dominant. The song is indebted to pop titans of yesteryears (Olivia Newton-John obviously inspired the title, but the theatrics of the song feel more indebted to Bonnie Tyler or Patti Labelle) to the point of it not really feeling like a Dua song, but she sells it all so convincingly that it feels like a natural fit. It's part pop song, part epic showdown, and I look forward to Dua continuing to push herself to the forefront of mainstream pop music greatness. [9]

Scott Mildenhall: Little wonder that Lipa's so keen to get physical, given that she's "dreaming in a simulation" -- her focus seems to be on the former, since the latter exemplifies the aimlessness of the verses in comparison to the locked-and-loaded chorus. That has its thrills, yet never feels as loose as seems intended. "Physical" comes across too in love with the idea of being a kind of Perfect Pop to actually be it; an anthem for kinetics developed via science textbook. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[student-film-lying-piece-of-shit]

Splentoby plas

fine. ok. ill do this. PLEASE keep in mind in these headcanons toby isn't a minor and that we can assume he's 19+ (he doesn't have a set set canon age? he supposingly dies before age 20 idk man it's vague please don't drag me into discourse i headcanon him as an adult in non au settings)

splendor hcs / splendortoby. yall asked for it. if i get hung im blaming u guys

also these r months old they're from amino. let's go

he can move his face and mouth! it's not forever stuck like (:

- he listens to nightcore unironically look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn't

- he is pansexual!! n cis

- he lowkey feels isolated and lonely from the others, trying his best to be a help but nobody rlly appericates it so he's :(

- he has magical capabilities! he can summon little things around him (think maybe the wadern from superjail?) like ie he will move his hands and a rainbow comes out of his hand

- he fucking LOVES minecraft and for the first 4 times he played he tried to like tame a creeper and BEN was just "you can Not Do That Splendor"

"he's my friend!!!!!!"

"you can tame how many animals and you try to tame an enemey splendor he will blow you up"

"): my friend..."

- he tends to get a lot of romantic crushes on humans but is terrorfied of pursuing them because he's!!! an ugly monster n their :3 to him

- he has an ability to make himself invisible to adults and only visible to kids/those who can 'believe' that he uses in public because slenders always like. "DON'T SHOW UR IDENTITY TO THE H U M A N S!!!!!!!"

- he likes 80's music a fucking lot. like. a LOT.

- he's friends w/ sally (duh), BEN (the one who got him into Minecraft), Jane, EJ and Toby!!!!

- he had feelings for jane until she was just "sorry, i like girls" and he was

"!!!! I do too!!!!! You funky lil lesbian keep it up!!!!!!!!"

- HE DOES HAVE A HUMAN FORM !!! he's the only slender who has a soild human form! However it drains him a lot to use it so he doesn't use it a lot,,,,

- he cries gold!!!! Liquid, his blood is like? pastel blue? his body liquids r pastel gore basically

- he, yes, is a brony. his favorite is pinkie pie

- he doesn't have a secret evil form shut the fuck up and let me have my son!!!!! i refuse!!!! no!!!!!!!!!!! he does NOT!!!!!!!!

- he has had a weird crush on toby for a while and he's never mentioned anything because "that is,, someone who works for my brother,,,,,,,that is,,,,, his proxy,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,"

- his human name is Romeo!!!!!!!!

- he's a huge mommas boy :3 he calls her everynight to tell her he loves her and she's just "okay cool" and he's "!!!!!!!SLEEP WELL"

- he's fucking shitfaced scared of zalgo lmao

okay im gonna indulge in this weird crack ship for three seconds here wait

- toby always rides on his back!!!!!!

- splendor always leaves him candy and stuff in his room anonymously or notes and toby's just "huh who did this" but than one time he saw splendor sign something and he was

"it's YOU??????????"

- toby: this is my giant monster boyf-

splendor, crying: am i a monster

toby: GOD NO I LOVE YOU

- slender finding out is just "literally what the fuck idc anymore do what by any means you guys want ive seen it all now"

- toby always also rides on his tendrils!!! he uses them as swings fuck you this is my headcanon list I'll do what i want

- they go to the fair n stuff when it's town n splendor goes into his human form and they have a good Time!!!!!!

- splendor gets toby really cute binders w/ designs n stuff!!!!! To make him feel a lot better abt himself and toby loves it half to death

- toby, crying: i don't know im sorry i never told you i was trans. please don't think of me different.

splendor, a creature that's been living for centuries, 11 feet tall w/ vague human traits: i would NEVER

- tobys the first human splendor has ever been w/!!! and he rlly rlly cares abt toby and feels super comfy w/ him

- splendor is v insecure abt being u know an eldrich creature so toby always compliments his 'monster' traits and splendor goes "!!!! O W O!!!!"

- toby uses splendor's tendril bells to stim sometimes and splendor happily let's him

- romeos human form has a ton of fucking freckles and when he goes into his human form toby goes fucking BONKERS he LOVES IT

- splendor in his human form: a-aha toby are you ready to go out,,,,,

toby, paniking: WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO SPLENDOR

splendor: AAAAAAAAAA

- toby slips up and calls splendor Romeo in front of slender and slenders like

"who...who are you referring to?"

"SPLENDOR I MEAN YOUR BROTHER SIR"

"how the fuck do you know his human name"

"uhm"

- jeff: how do you feel about your emplyoee fucking your brother lmao

slender: please

slender: leave my office. please. im begging you jeffery just fucking go

(THEY DON'T ACTUALLY FUCK PLEASE)

- this situation makes slender say fuck a lot lmao

- toby likes sitting on splendor a lot n its just he's on his ds yelling at his NintendoDog to sit down as splendor reads nariana and toby's just background noise screeching "MR. SNIFFLES SIT!!!!"