#grem leans

[starry-bite]

sapphics will see a blonde and a brunette standing next to each other and be like 'is anyone going to ship this?' and not wait for an answer

[commanderfloppy]

Now for the character slot issue of making a character:

Plant pretty and plant armor very pretty, but I am also really loving this gremlin with T-boy swag

decisions decisions...

[pan-fried-autism]

if grem kissed someone she would wash their mouth with mouthwash afterwards

[cuffmeinblack]

Some dumb fluffy rubbish I wrote for @lil-grem-draws because it's her BIRTHDAYYYYYY

Happy Birthday!!!

"Lily!" you heard a familiar and cheerful voice sound from behind you as you sat at the breakfast table, interrupting your conversation.

"How's my favourite Hufflepuff?"

You smiled as Garreth plopped himself down next to you, a wide grin spread on his freckled face. He was always smiling, but this particular smile looked particularly mischievous.

"Hello, Garreth!" you greeted, dropping your spoon into your bowl with a clatter.

"I heard it's a special day today," Garreth whispered in your ear.

"Who told you?" you asked, shooting a look across the table at Poppy.

You looked at him suspiciously as he shuffled around on the bench, clearly trying to hide something behind his back.

"I have my sources. So, Happy Birthday!"

He leaned across to plant a swift and sweet kiss on your cheek, distracting you enough not to notice as he pulled something from behind his back. By the time you'd registered what was happening, your skin blushing beneath his lips, you found yourself with a face full of flowers.

"Oh!"

The bouquet was so distinctively Garreth, and it made you grin from ear to ear. Full of freshly picked wildflowers and cut flowers from the gardens, you spotted your favourites immediately, as well as a few interesting additions.

"Is that dittany?"

"Well, it's an attractive plant isn't it? And this way, your present is practical as well as pretty, hm?"

You chuckled as you accepted the bouquet, breathing in deeply and revelling in the sweetly floral mixture. The Lilac he'd included sat in the centre, and you brushed your fingers over the fluffy blooms with a smile.

"Thank you, Garreth. You're so thoughtful."

He didn't reply, instead struggling to remove something from his robe pocket with a grunt. You clutched your flowers as he slid a lumpy present wrapped in red ribbon across the table.

"A little something. But your real present is doing whatever you want to do today. You name it."

Placing the flowers on the table with care, you picked up the present and lay it on your lap with a curious glance over at Garreth. He was watching you eagerly as the ribbon fell away and the colourful wrapping paper peeled off against your fingers.

Inside, you recognised your favourite sweets immediately, a bundle of chocolates and treats that had been picked out with care and attention. What interested you most was the unassuming bottle that they were tied to with string. It had no label, only a small tag with a messy scrawl which you recognised as Garreth's.

"Fizzing Whizzbeer? You finished it?"

"Just in time," he beamed. "It's perfect. And I wanted you to have the first batch."

Your heart fluttered as you fingered the tiny label and took in your presents. They weren't expensive or ostentatious—they were thoughtful, and brought you more joy than a thousand generic gifts ever could.

"Thank you, really. I'm feeling quite spoiled already."

"Not nearly enough. I'll take you into Hogsmeade for a drink and then we can do anything you like. Even if it's nothing much at all."

He picked up the bouquet and held out his arm as his glittering eyes watched you gather the rest of your presents into your bag. Clutching his arm, you stood and bid your housemates goodbye, accepting their birthday wishes with thanks before returning your attention to your favourite Gryffindor.

"Come on, birthday girl. You have me all day—let's have some fun."

[shanaraharlyah]

A Surprise Kiss

Will's teasing got him something he didn't quite expect when Hellendil, caught up in the moment, leaned in for a kiss.

---

I've had this in my WIPs since September and was determined to finish it in time for Valentine's Day and OC kiss week. Roleplaying this was so much fun and I look forward to everything to come from these two.

William belongs to @lil-grem-draws and Hellendil is my baby. 💙💚 I love them so much!

[rachi-roo]

------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }------------

Mairimashita! Iruma-Kun: The Wiggly-Woos!

Weeeee! Thanks to everyone who voted in the poll! 'Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-Kun' has been my recent hyperfixation. XD And I'm just about to start watching season 3! I thought I'd extend this from the HCs I wrote a little while back, this being Asmodeus discovering his love for tiggles!

Summary: Asmodeus discovers his love of being tickled through his buddy, Iruma! With the help of Clara too~

Lee!Asmodeus, Ler!Iruma, Ler!Clara

Tw: None

---------------------☆ ☆------------------------

Finally! Friday had come, no school for the students of Babyls for two days. Time for some well needed relaxation. Asmodeus was well looking forward to his plans. He and Clara had been invited to a sleepover at Irumas house!

A whole day and night with Master Iruma?! What more could Asmodeus possibly ask for!? Although this wasn't their first sleepover, every sleepover was destined to be the best, because of Iruma!

The three sat together in Irumas' room as they waited to be called down for dinner, Opera was making them a feast for all the hard work they'd been putting into their classes and studying.

During their wait, the three were having a playful pillow fight on Irumas bed, all happily bonking and batting each other with their plump weapons.

"Iruma-kiiins! HIIIYAH!" Clara beamed as she tossed a pillow towards Iruma, who immediately was able to dodge it with ease, earning another huff from the green haired grem-girl.

"Aaah, no fair! Iruma-kins is cheating! Gah!"

"Cheating??" Asmodeus countered, hitting Clara over the head with his pillow. "How dare you accuse Master Iruma of such a deed! He would never do something so barbaric and sleazy!"

Iruma chuckled, petting Clara's hair. "Awww, I'm sorry, Clara. I can't help it. Next time, I won't dodge it, I promise!" The blue haired button smiled warmly as he sat with his arms open and his eyes shut, waiting for his sacrificial blow.

"W-What!? Master Iruma, you don't need to take a hit for her! Don't be so foolish, you'll perish for sure!" Over dramatic as ever, Asmodeus protested, trying to snatch the pillow from Clara as she took aim with a cheeky grin.

The pink haired fire wielder fought the pillow away from Clara, sighing with relief, having saved his master from what he saw as an assassination attempt.

"SUPRISE HUG ATTACK!"

"NO!" Asmodeus was too slow this time, Iruma was doomed for sure as Clara lunged at him, tackling him to the mattress with a flump as she hugged him warmly, kicking her feet in the air, proud of her victory.

"Hehe! I got you that time, Iruma-Kiiins!"

"Haha, you sure did." The victim chuckled before his eyes sparkled with an idea.

Asmodeus turned away in mock defeat, crushed by the fact he couldn't protect his master. "Oh Master Iruma... I have failed you!"

"KYAHAHA!" Clara's sudden, loud and bubbly laughter snapped Asmodeus from his pit of dispare. He turned to see Clara flailing and giggling in Irumas lap, her cheeks were a bright red glow and her tail was wagging furiously.

Oh no. Had Asmodeus missed a joke Iruma told? How awful!

"Uwah! Master! I apologise, tell me the joke! I must've missed it!" He asked, sitting on his knees facing the blue haired boy, who just blinked in return.

"Joke? I didn't say anything, Azz."

"Huh? But, Clara is in hysterics! You must have told one of your fantastic jokes!" He insisted eagerly, leaning forward, giving Iruma his biggest puppy dog eyes.

Iruma thought for a moment, looking down at Clara with a raised brow. She returned the confused expression with a hum.

Then it clicked in Irumas head. "You mean this?" He started poking Clara's sides again, making her squeal and wriggle like a little worm.

Asmodeus stared in shock. "Wh- How are you doing that, Master Iruma? You didn't even have to speak a word!" He was completely dumbfounded by what he was seeing.

Clara sat up with a grin. "Iruma is giving me the wiggly woos!" Wiggly-woos being Clara's family term for tickling.

"What is a wiggly-woo?? Clara you're talking nonsense again!" Asmodeus pouted, folding his arms, irritated that Clara was using her silly words again.

Iruma chuckled, softly tickling Clara's neck, making her shoulders bunch with a snort. "She means tickling, Azz. Haven't you seen it before?"

Tickling? This word was also foreign to Asmodeus. What could that mean? Forcing someone to laugh without telling a joke? What kind of strange behaviour could cause this?

"Uuuh... I'm afraid this isn't something I've come across before, master Iruma." His cheeks puffed in defeat, his pride damaged because he had been left out of the loop.

He looked up, feeling a soft hand resting upon his head. Iruma smiled at him kindly. "Not to worry, Azz! It's not a big deal."

Not a big deal!? But this was clearly something Iruma enjoyed. He was smiling so much when he was 'doing tickling' to Clara. His eyes flashed with determination.

"Master Iruma!" He cupped his friend's hands, looking deeply into his eyes as his own pink opals sparkled. "Show me!"

"Uh, show you?" Iruma was taken back by the sudden change in Asmodeus's demeanour.

"Yes! Please master Iruma, if you'd be so kind!" The demon quickly layed himself on the bed, sprawling out and prepping himself for whatever was going to happen. He needed to know! He needed to learn this from Iruma! For Iruma!

Iruma chuckled at the sight, flexing his fingers playfully. "I mean, if you're sure."

Asmodeus nodded quickly. "I'm certain! Master Iruma! Please, you must show me this tickling at once! I want to know how this spell works so that I may cast it upon you in any hours of darkness that may arise and-GYAHA!" A sudden jolt of electric tingles sent a spasm through Asmodeus body, causing him to immediately curl in on himself, covering his face with his arms in shock.

"Hah! W-What in hell was that?" He asked, his voice trembling slightly as he watched Iruma pull his hands away.

"That was a tickle." He smiled innocently, waiting for Asmodeus to calm himself before he continued. He didn't want to overwhelm him on his first tickle time.

"That was... A tickle?" Asmodeus was shook! He had never felt anything like that before. All Iruma had done was press on his ribs with his fingertips, and it had sent his body into an instant defensive overdrive!

Seeing how instantly reactive Asmodeus was, Iruma thought it best to leave him be for now. "Sorry, Azz. I won't do it again-"

"No!" Asmodeus quickly flattened himself out again. "I-I mean, uh, I can take it. I need to experience more. For um... Training!"

"Haha! If you say so. Here I come~" Iruma wriggled his fingers again, drawing closer to Asmodeus's tummy this time.

The pink haired demon felt his tummy doing cartwheels! His hands instinctively shooting up to try to bat Irumas' hands away as nervous, happy giggles started pouring from his mouth.

"Gehe! W-Wait! No, I'm okay, Iiiieeuah! Haha!" The sounds that were coming from him were less than flattering, but they were oh so cute!

"I haven't even touched you yet!" Iruma giggled with him as Clara watched eagerly, laughing at Asmodeus's strange sounds and expressions.

"Azz-Azz sounds like a little girl!"

"Y-Yohou would knowhow! Gyahaha!" Asmodeus brought his knees to his chest, his feet kicking as Iruma finally managed to dodge Asmodeus's defensive hands and get a good dig at his belly.

"KYAHAHAAAA!" His head flew backwards, pushing into the mattress as his back arched, his eyes squeezing tightly shut as a huge bright, fanged smile spread over his rosy cheeks.

"Oho my gahAHAHA! AHA!" He gasped for air, feeling Irumas tickling fingers shift across his body, finding his sides and starting to pinch and knead at the area.

"WAHAAA! I-IruMAHA!"

"That's my name~" Iruma chirped, happily watching his friend squirm and laugh freely. It wasn't unusual for Asmodeus to laugh around them, but to see him in utter hysterics like this was a real treat.

Asmodeus rolled to one side, half burying his face into the mattress as a hand managed to grab Irumas, only for the back of his ribs to be attacked with a set of digging knuckles instead, immediately making him roll back over.

"BYAHAHA! Ah! HAHAHA! I-IHIHIHEEEEE!"

"Haha, no escaping me, Azz~" Iruma teased playfully, starting to knead his thumbs into Asmodeus's lower ribs.

"AAAAH!"

Clara grinned, she wanted to play too!

"Hehe, time for the peets to get some wiggly-woos!" She chuckled, moving to sit by Asmodeus's feet. He was too distracted by this newfound sensation to realise what she was up to.

"Peets, peets, peets!" She sang, grabbing one of the flailing demons ankles, locking it securely under her arm.

"Huh? C-Clahahara! W-Whahahat are yoAHAHA! OHO DEVI-! HYAHAHA!" He practically screamed with laughter as he felt Clara's claws start to drag up and down his socked foot. His toes curled as he tried to tug his leg free.

"Wooow! Azz-Azz is devi-LOUD! Haha! Looks like his peets like the wiggly-woos the best!"

"You mean you think his feet are the most ticklish?" Iruma asked, just needing a brief translation.

"Yup! His little piggily-peets are very wiggly-woo positive!"

"Right!"

With one foot trapped and his upper half constantly being taken by suprise by Iruma switching tickling positions all the time, Asmodeus was getting the full work.

"Ahahahaaaa! HYAHAHAHA! Eeeheheheeee!" His laughter was loud, using his whole body to project his boyish guffaw. A few droplets of giggly tears pooled in his eyes.

Being such a powerful demon from birth, Asmodeus had never gotten into any tickle fights. He didn't even have any friends who would want to play like this with him. But now he did, and it was... Wonderful!

This full-on tickle fest only lasted about a minute, though it felt like an eternity, when Iruma noticed the tears in Asmodeus's crinkled eyes.

"Haha, okay, okay, ease up Clara."

"Aaawwww, I didn't get to test his other peet!" She chuckled, letting go of Asmodeus's foot.

The dishevelled demon lay there on his back, panting heavily. A lazy hand came up to swipe his tangled pink locks from his forehead. His clothes were wrinkled, and his shirt had ridden up past his abs. Somehow, his other sock had come free from his foot during his thrashing.

"Hah... Hey... Why..."

"Are you alright, Asmodeus?" Iruma asked, tilting his head as he waited for Asmodeus to catch his breath.

"Aww man, did we over do it? I'm-"

"Why'd you stop?"

Clara and Iruma looked at each other in suprise.

"Too many wiggly-woos will make you sleepy, or worse, the hiccy-pups!" Clara nodded.

"Yeah, don't you want us to stop?" Iruma asked, looking at Asmodeus's damp eyes and flushed cheeks.

Asmodeus furrowed his brow, not quite understanding why Iruma would say that. "Am I supposed to want you to stop the wiggly-wo- uh, tickling?"

That's when Iruma and Clara realised. This demon is a Lee! Or, in their terms, very wiggly-woo positive!

"Alright, Azz. Shout 'wiggles' when you want us to stop."

"I doubt I'll be needing a code word to stop you from tiHIHIAHAHA!"

The room was filled with laughter once more as Asmodeus was bombarded with playful tickling. All three of them laughing and joking together. The happy sounds danced out into the hallway, as Opera was on his way to fetch them for food.

He smiled to himself, letting the three play, just for a few minutes more.

"Hm... At least they're building up an appetite."

[driftward]

Title: Call It a Day Characters: Zoissette Vauban Rating: Teen Summary: It's a hard knock life when you are five cenmeders tall and ten grems, especially when you are six and a half fulms tall and two hundred and fifty ponzes. Notes: This is the actual FFXIV Write Entry for this prompt

Zoissette got an early start to her day, as usual.

She was beginning to feel more grounded, these days. Her aether was still thin, according to Y'shtola. And her muscle mass had not returned her to her previous strength. She was still four and a half kilgrems shy of where she would like to be. Which was like ten ponzes. And she still felt a bit outside of normal.

But less distant, now.

She looked over at the place where Lavender's armature usually lay. She felt a pang, and held a hand to her heart, closing her eyes, and taking several deep breaths. She could still feel the presence of her familiar friend, distant, though that feeling was shifting every day, seeming to settle less as a lump in her heart and more as a gentle warmth throughout her. She was still with her, in a way, she was certain. And one day she would come fully to terms with figuring out what that meant.

But today, today was going to be a busy day, and she had a full schedule. She pushed those thoughts away, and instead organized her mind, considering carefully what she had to do for the day. Breakfast. Morning check in with Meya. Training with C'oretta. Check on the laboratory with Ryssthota, which meant also with Klynt. Lunch. Training with Nyx. Submarine scheduling with Dark. Check in with Y'shtola, and the thought of that last filled her with a warm feeling, though she also still needed to talk with Mathye, and figure some things out for herself.

Still though. She was coming back to life, and finding a certain delight in it.

The kitchenette filled with the smell of eggs and bacon and ham, and it all smelled just richer today, somehow. She closed her eyes, and leaned against a wall, and just breathed it in. Faint whisps of fire aether, and the rich mix of living aethers shifting and transforming aspect as heat was applied, which was good, she needed more protein for muscle repair.

What an odd way to think of breakfast.

Still. For a morning, it was nice. She finished cooking, ate her meal, and was shortly on her way, feeling just the lightest bit like maybe she could float to her destination.

She was going to have a nice day, she was sure.

It was scant few bells later, and she was feeling rather heavier than she had in the morning.

Zoissette bounced lightly on her feet, staying in place, her lips pressed tightly together as she looked across the field at her opponent. Her eyes narrowed at the sting of a trickle of sweat dripping down on the edge of an eyelid, and she felt her jaw tense.

"Just say the word!" said C'oretta cheerfully.

"Word," said Zoissette, and she watched as C'oretta leapt high into the air, spinning as she went, letting her chakrams fly free. She crouched slightly, keeping a tight grip on her own chakrams as she deflected both of them, sending them back to the Miqo'te who snapped them out of the air with practiced ease and sent them back just a bit faster.

C'oretta was, in many ways, a good instructor, and Zoissette a patient student. C'oretta knew how to press her students just a little bit beyond their abilities, testing them without overwhelming them, allowing them to adjust to her attacks and their understanding. Zoissette knew this, as she had previously been beside her, working with her to teach the others.

And Zoissette was certain she should be doing better.

Zoissette deflected the new attacks and spun, snapping her own chakrams out in quick succession, one after the other. As she did so, she watched C'oretta carefully, looking for something to exploit, some way she could sneak an attack past those defenses. C'oretta was already moving to be out of the way of one of them, and got one of her own chakrams back to deflect the other, spinning as she got closer. Zoissette tried to reach out with her aether, to steer her own chakrams back to her faster, as C'oretta was suddenly right inside of her space. She twisted, reached out a hand, and had one chakram back to hand, shifting her weight to the ball of her foot as she deflected one of C'oretta's attacks, readying a strong overhead counter attack.

C'oretta kicked the inside of her knee, brining Zoissette down to her height, and then used her other foot to springboard off the knee as it bent, and Zoissette found her face full of Miqo'te foot as C'oretta used her face as a springboard to backflip into the air. Chakrams rained down as C'oretta caught, threw, caught, threw, and caught her chakrams again in a rapid fusillade of punishment.

Zoissette stayed planted, and just helplessly kept her arms up to protect her head. The pummeling stopped for just a moment, and she lifted her face slightly to get eyes on C'oretta again.

A chakram caught her in her thigh, hard, and she felt herself tipping over. Her arms went out to steady her, and another one caught her in the armpit, and she was sent sprawling over onto the ground.

Coretta hopped back to her starting spot as Zoissette got back to her feet.

"You're still too stiff, that planting was a paladin thing-"

"Knight."

"-don't think I didn't see that, and while you're getting better about shifting on your feet you're not moving much, silly, it's like you think you're still using your heavy pistol and trying to steady up for shots you can already know you can steer the chakrams once they've left your hands now you just gotta act like it and stay in motion."

Zoissette sighed.

"You're thinking too much I can tell I keep telling you you have to go with the flow let go of all that tense bundling and just move! There's a rhythm to it all! Just feel it out and let's go!"

"Right. Once more. With feeling," said Zoissette flatly. C'oretta just beamed at her.

That tenseness that C'oretta complained about was an ever-present companion for Zoissette. That tenseness was the physical manifestation of her sharpness. That was her power. As a scholar, she brought a tight focus to the battlefield, the ability to analyze anything and find a path to victory. As a knight, she was a bulwark, ready at a moment to stand and deliver, to be an almost inevitable slow force for enemies to throw themselves against before she brought their defeat to bear.

As a dancer, she was just kind of awful.

C'oretta bounced from foot to foot, an ever boundless font of energy. "Let's go again but this time I'm going to go slower okay I want you to really just not focus at all just do what feels right."

Zoissette just looked at her dubiously, but returned to her own starting position, and sighed. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slow.

Right. Flexible. Flow. Feelings. Intuition. Just let go, and let herself flow. She hopped on one foot a few times, then on the other.

How are you, whispered a voice inside of her.

It was a good question.

Open your eyes, and look. Consider your opponent.

She did. C'oretta was about ten meders away. Miqo'te, Seeker of the Sun, in peak physical form. Young, healthy. Fast. Had an almost precognitive combat sense, similar to Nyx. Stayed in the moment. Did not tend to plan too far ahead nor ruminate too far behind.

She relaxed. She trusted C'oretta. C'oretta was a good instructor.

She let go, and gradually, she felt the world around her come to life in a way it never had before. She suddenly felt like she was very aware, of distances, of colors, of connections.

We can do this, said the same voice.

"Ready," she said.

"Say the word."

She smiled warmly. "Word," and then she was in motion. She snapped one chakram away, as hard as it would go, and she kept the other one close at hand. C'oretta saw her attack coming a malm away and avoided it easily, before beginning a lazy counter attack, throwing one chakram after the other, letting Zoissette have more than enough time to deflect them, which she did, spinning as she moved, using her own chakram to send C'oretta's back at her.

She saw C'oretta light up, and redouble her efforts, retrieving her thrown chakrams and sending them back twice as fast. Zoissette watched her movements, and moved quickly, spinning, shifting, no, dancing. A part of her was freed, allowing her to focus on what she was good at. Her first chakram returned at last, and she sent it back out again, harder even than the first time, throwing aether into it, watching amazed at the wake it left behind. She did not need to hold the second chakram to block C'oretta's attacks now, as she danced, she danced, and she tossed the second chakram out rapidly to catch C'oretta's attacks mid-flight, sending them back, her own chakram pinging back to her grasp rapidly.

It was all coming together, now. The world seemed to slow, and she was mesmerized, as she saw a wake flow around C'oretta's movements, could feel the connections between them. It all looked a bit like a dream, but she felt like she was doing anything but, and she could not help but smile broadly. Her movements slowed and she stopped, and C'oretta looked at her, confused, even as she got closer. She stopped just in front of Zoissette, still bouncing on her feet, ready to swing another attack out.

Zoissette's first chakram came back. Square in the back of C'oretta's head. Rather harder than Zoissette had intended, but as it spun up into the air, Zoissette reached out with her aether, and steered it back even as she snapped another chakram forward, and both of them met C'oretta's head at the same time.

Zoissette held out her hands, and caught them both, holding her chakrams in front of her face as she just stopped and looked. She could feel a flow through them and around her. Everything seemed to have an energy to it she had somehow never noticed before. She marveled. How had she done that? Had she done that?

"HOORAY!" cheered C'oretta, and Zoissette looked up just in time to see the Miqo'te flying through the air, a broad and happy smile on her face, looking every so excited, as she came down and ninety five ponzes of energy all punched Zoissette square in the head with her chakram.

The world collapsed, and so did Zoissette as she went down again.

She found herself staring at the sky.

"Ow," said Zoissette.

"Oh wow, that was much better, but I really thought you were going to block that last one," the Miqo'te said cheerfully. "I know you wouldn't have let any of your students get away with gawping like that you know better."

"Fair."

"Though really are you okay?"

Zoissette wasn't sure how to answer that.

In any case, this sure was certainly a start to the day.

Cool downs and exercises a gentle bit of instruction and a shower later, Zoissette was in her lab coat in what was ostensibly her laboratory. Only ostensibly, however, as Ryssthota had taken it upon herself to install two person safety lockouts and declared the laboratory hers unless Zoissette wanted to fight her for it.

The two person safety lockout was a sensible precaution, and one Zoissette should have taken in the first place, she had to admit. She had just assumed that social convention would be enough, but then, well, she had made a few mistakes along the way, and now the lockout was rather less by mutual agreement and rather more through physical device. That was fine. As far as fighting Ryssthota, Zoissette was not sure yet she was up for fighting anyone.

And besides, Ryssthota was a fine scientist. Fair. And while she was still coming to understand everything that Zoissette had been working on, the central Demi-Ozma assembly was still based on Ryssthota's work, and Zoissette felt that was more than enough to be comfortable with her as lead.

Today she was in the roof, performing maintenance on the nuolith assemblies that fed aether conduits. Ryssthota was below her as her second, at the console, entering commands and helping her out. Klynt was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, casually looking upset.

"You know," said Zoissette, "you do not have to be here, Klynt."

Klynt scowled up at her and shoved a finger in her direction. "I just bet s'what you woulda said before you went an' took a meander into eeby deeby."

Ryssthota looked over and frowned at Klynt. "Eeby deeby?"

"She means the rift between worlds," said Zoissette.

"I said what I said," said Klynt.

"Look," said Zoissette. "I am certain it does not take two full grown Roegadyn to babysit me. I am certain Ryss is more than enough to wrestle me to the ground before I manage to do anything terribly foolish."

"Wasn't doin' anythin' with my day anyroad."

"I thought Reinhardt was in town." Zoissette shifted her weight as she made a final adjustment. "Ryss, try that. Give me twenty percent flow."

"Aye."

Klynt just made a disgruntled noise. Zoissette leaned against a bundle of cables as she felt the area around her grow warm and aspected aether begin to flow through the assembly.

"You do not even particularly like to hang around, Klynt," said Zoissette.

"What gave you that idea?"

"The fact that anytime I offer you a spot with the Free Company, you insist upon your freedom. Tell me how you do not want to be tied down to anyone or anything. Well, I release you from any burden you feel towards me."

Down below, she could see Klynt shift, and she palmed her hand into her face. She had not meant to be so blunt.

"I promise I am not going anywhere unsupervised," she said quickly. "And if you need me, you can just call. I will be there."

Klynt made a strangled noise. "How can you say shite like that and then say the opposite like five seconds later?"

"Ten percent. Ten Percent; do we want to table this discussion until after so we can do it properly over some drinks?" said Ryss.

"Sorry. Sorry! Sorry to both of you. Sorry Ryss. I realize this is not the best time. And... Klynt, I just - I just think you can do better than hanging around me. That is all. I feel like sometimes, like you look to me for guidance, but you also act like you do not want it, and... I think you can do better. You are better. I have seen it."

She should shut up. She should shut up and stop talking. She was not paying attention to the aether pressure like she should be. She looked down at Klynt, to see Klynt scowling up at her.

"...what d'you mean," she said, slowly.

What did she mean. She was babbling. And her feelings were bubbling around, and she was feeling - well, she was feeling complicated.

Be honest.

"I mean you are my best friend. I mean we have been through a lot together. I mean that I hate that you - you refuse to see what you can be. I feel like you say freedom, but what you really mean is that you are scared. I mean I think you should stay. I mean -"

"Fifteen percent."

"Things are very different for me now I think and I am about to make a lot of decisions and I do not know what is going to happen in the future or even what is happening right now but I very much either want you to fly free or to actually trust me but to stop being in this weird in between Klynt I think either decision would be better for both of us."

The place was fair glowing around her now, and she tore her gaze away from Klynt to look at the aether conduit. She could fair see the aether as it travelled through the line, and as she touched a hand to it, she could feel its aspect.

Fascinating.

But also it was too far erde. It was going to jam, and when that happened, the pressure build up would blow out the boot, which would be far more than enough to blow her clear across the room.

"Emergency shutdown!"

Ryss didn't even hesitate, her hand slamming down on the emergency halt button.

Zoissette had already dropped down to the ground, and as she did, she was aware that the path of the blow out would be just about at head height, but while Ryss was out of the way off to the side, Klynt was at risk.

Zoissette turned, putting herself between Klynt and the assembly, and threw her hands out. She did not have her codex out and ready, and there was no time to draw the shapes.

Visualizing. Got it.

The aether in the air around them was willed to take shape of the arcs and whorls of arcane geometry, the faint blue and green hexagons of a proper Nymian shield appearing around them as the flexible boot that was around the aether conduit bulged outward.

And then it made a noise that was rather like a loud fart, and a gust of aether blew across the shield and around Klynt and Zoissette, sending some papers that were resting on a desk nearby flying and almost nothing else.

The lights in the laboratory flickered momentarily, but nothing else happened as the system coasted down. The shield around them held perfectly fine before it dissipated as harmlessly as the blowback had been. Ryss frowned up into the ceiling, before she joined Klynt in looking at Zoissette oddly.

Right. Right. Zoissette suddenly felt very large and very heavy and not at all at risk of being blown anywhere.

"There's a reason we were keeping it to twenty percent," she said. "Even if you'd stayed up there, worst it would've done is rattled you a bit."

"Yeah," said Zoissette, in a daze.

Klynt put a hand on her shoulder, and looked at her in concern.

"...maybe we should pick this up another day," said Zoissette.

Ryss continued to look at her oddly, but just nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's button it up and shut it down, then."

Zoissette looked up at Klynt for a moment, then looked away, feeling embarrassed. But a moment later, she felt the gentlest tap, where Klynt had lightly punched her on the shoulder.

"Sorry," said Zoissette.

"Don' be. I'll... think about it, get back to you later, alright?"

Zoissette nodded. "Thank you."

She went to go help Ryssthota shut the laboratory down so they could leave.

She certainly was having a day.

Lunch was uneventful, at least, before she went out to meet Nyx in front of the Free Company building.

Nyx was a terrible instructor in all the ways C'oretta was an excellent one. Their feedback was usually just a rating, but little in the way of actionable steps, and they were difficult to get a read on, at best. As well, many students found their laconic bluntness and the way they tended to stare off-putting.

Zoissette liked that about them, though, and while Nyx was a poor instructor by default, they were an excellent training assistant, and a self directed student who was used to their quirks would find that Nyx was almost perfect for teaching. They were very consistent in their combat output levels, and they did not prevaricate with their feedback, instead getting right to the point, and able to point out details that the student themself may have missed.

Today was gunblade practice. Zoissette still was not back up to full strength, and could not fully wield the aether that was the bread and butter of a proper knight. The gunblade, however, was a tool that had been developed by the Garleans into a piece of equipment that could overcome aetheric deficiencies, and in the hands of someone who could channel aether, it was an extremely effective weapon. Also, its usage relied less on the physicality of its user.

In short, it was perfect until Zoisette could figure herself out.

Up until now, she had been practicing with surplus Garlean ceruleum cartridges, which were trivial to charge and come across these days. Today however she was switching it up with a variety of different shells that Gage Acquisitions as a whole had helped her with. She wished, not for the first time, that Apple was around to help. As it was, some of them were based on the 'dragonfire' designs they had come up with studying Mathye's nuoliths, some had been charged by Zoissette herself, just slowly over time instead of rapidly in battle, and Y'shtola had also leant her a few.

"Alright," said Zoissette, as she loaded the Garlean shot first. "Melee combat training. Start at level three, then ramp up to level six, confirm with me before each transition."

"Start at level three and increase rating one rank at a time with confirmation before each step increase. Acknowledged. Ready."

"Go," said Zoissette.

Nyx's movements were slow and exaggerated at first, as the two clashed. They had two large fist weapons today, each one charged up by Nyx's movement and aether, and discharged any time they hit. Zoissette used her gunblade to deflect and absorb the hits, flipping cartridges in and out as needed to provide shields or healing to herself, and occasionally firing a powerful burst of some special spell or another back at Nyx.

They got into a rhythm as Zoissette warmed up.

"Level four."

"Level four go."

"Acknowledged. Committing."

Now Nyx was faster, and was beginning to mix up their movements, and avoiding being hit more often. Zoissette pressed harder, keeping up, and it was not long until they were in level five.

Now Zoissette switched to the more special ammunition. It was different, somehow. As she pulled out the first set, she could somehow feel the power in them in between her fingers as she slammed them home into the gunblade, and she felt as though she could fair well taste and smell the aether as she set them off.

Which was weird, but she ignored that. A difference between the Garlean stock ammo and her more puissant specialized rounds.

Nyx was in rapid motion now, ducking and weaving. Zoissette was pleased however that she was more than holding her own, gunblade meeting fist weapon, shields deflecting energy blasts, and countering with powerful blasts and efficient strikes. It may not have been her first choice of weapon, but she felt like she was taking to it alright.

"Level six."

Zoissette ejected her current cartridges as she threw herself back, knowing she would want to open up the space between her and Nyx a bit before stepping up a rank. "Level six go," she said, as she reached into her pouch for the cartridges Y'shtola had charged. She grabbed a white one and a black one, playing them between her fingers as she readied to slam them home.

"Acknowledged. Committing."

She stopped, though, as when she touched them, as she moved them, she felt a distinct frisson coming off them and tickling up her arm. She looked at them, amazed at the glow that was around each of them. The white one was of conjury, and Zoissette could feel the warm love and kindness and care coming from it. She could almost see in her mind's eye how Y'shtola must have prepared it, focusing her healing spells into it. And the black one was all fire and heat and passion, and she could almost feel the history of that one as well, of Y'shtola channeling puissant umbral magicks into it.

The Amalgam is at level six!

Zoissette blinked as Nyx was in her space, and she felt a staccato of punches dancing along her ribs. She bent over on herself, snapping the gunblade up to defend herself, even with its chamber still open, and twisted and flailed as Nyx unleashed an unrelenting flurry of attacks. She managed to just barely hold onto the ammunition, however, and slammed the cartridges home. They lit up, and almost immediately she fired off the healing one, spinning, and she grabbed an empty cartridge to charge it with a shield spell.

Her aether pumped into it almost immediately where normally it would have taken her time and focus to do so, but that was just as well, as this was something of an emergency, and she tried to pull away from Nyx so she could slam the new cartridge home as well and it was too little too late. Despite the uncommon speed with which her aether had suddenly decided to respond to her, she had let herself be distracted for too long, and she found herself on the ground again.

She took a deep long breath in as Nyx stood nearby, waiting. After a moment, she rolled over, and started to get back up to her feet.

Careful!

Oh, right, she was supposed to - and then Nyx was in her side again, and she tried helplessly to parry, and shortly she was back on the ground.

"End!," said Zoissette this time, and Nyx went back to waiting nearby, this time putting her fist weapons back onto the magnetic holsters at her hips.

"Rating. Poor. Would you like details?"

"No, thanks, I think I figure it out," grumbled Zoissette, as she got to her feet.

This sure was turning into a day.

A bell later found her and Dark in the workshop. This was work Zoissette was well suited to while on light duty, and it did need to be done, and she liked feeling useful, and so here she was. A submersible hung in the air while Zoissette and Dark went over the material requirements for upgrading it as well as planning future ventures it would need to be sent on to retrieve things the ever hungry artisans of Gage Acquisitions were clamoring for.

She was standing on the upper walkway around the submarine as she moved the crane arm to access another hull plate when she heard the door to the workshop open. She looked and saw Meya and Erick walking in, and she felt herself light up. She loved seeing them together.

They were good for one another, she felt. And their mutual happiness made her happy.

"You two have been here for a bit. Thought we'd ask if you wanted some dinner," said Erick.

"Sure," said Dark, putting her tomestone away. "Zoissette?"

"Sounds great. Let me come down," she said cheerfully, as she stepped out into the space to float down to meet them.

We can't fly!

"I cannot fly," she said cheerfully just before she bounced off the arm of the crane holding the submersible and rebounded off the fabricator console.

"Whoa, okay!" yelped Eric in surprise. "Maybe watch that first step in the future, it's a doozy."

"Zoissette! Are you alright?" exclaimed Meya, crouching next to her.

Zoissette just sort of lay on the floor, intimately aware of the feeling of the cold metal grate against her cheek and feeling very reminded of every ache and pain she had felt that day. She felt strong hands gently grasping her, and with Dark's help, managed to sit up.

Meya held a hand out, and Zoissette could sense the gentle pull of aero and hydro aether pooling to become a flow of healing aether, washing over Zoissette. Multiple new contusions, minor abrasion, a new laceration. Minor overall. She would be fine.

"I am not sure what just happened," she said. "Thank you, Meya."

Meya nodded. "Maybe, ah, you two should go without me while I keep an eye on her for a moment instead..."

"What? No, please, do not. Go on! I am fine, I am certain, I will catch up, it is okay, I just fell for no good reason and maybe I..."

Zoissette's voice trailed off as she looked up to see Dark standing nearby with her arms crossed, Eric pinching his nose, and concern written obviously on Meya's face.

No need to push them away. Be better about this.

Right.

"...and, uhm, maybe I ...should be better about this sort of thing, right."

Erick and Dark just looked at each other, and both shrugged.

"Maybe I should call it a day," she said meekly, letting Dark help her the rest of the way to her feet. Meya patted her on the arm.

"Come on. Let me take you to the infirmary," said Meya.

"Okay."

"I'll let Y'shtola know where you are," said Erick.

"And I'll bring all of you something to eat shortly," said Dark.

Zoissette smiled gratefully at each of them. "Thank you. You are all ... very kind."

She let herself be lead out of the workshop as Meya fussed gently over her, and sighed.

This sure had been a hell of a day.

[ask-sebastian]

(continued from this post)

Sebastian rubbed at his ribs, taking a moment to catch his breath whilst he listened to @lil-grem-draws explain the spell. His eyes scanned the common room as golden dust whirled and settled. As expected, there were many overlapping tracks, but even so, Sebastian felt far less panicked now that there was a course of action.

“Well done, Will." Sebastian nodded to him in thanks as he hastily retraced to where he last saw Nosy and inspected the jumble of golden trails for small prints. Wincing, he leaned down and examined a fresh shimmering path that looked potentially niffler-like. Small and chaotically winding. He looked to Will and said, “I think I’ve got something.” 

Nosy Anon [*Nosy was making his way up the stairs that led out of the common room, your wand still in his snout. But the Niffler couldn't get out. The doors were too big and too heavy for him to open.*]

(there is more to Nosy Anon's response that I shall include as we go along, if you wish to keep going)

[leam1983]

Release

The moment we all hung up, all three of us tossed ourselves into bed and made love like we hadn't done in almost two months. Sarah was her glowing, cuddlebug self and Walt sobbed while building castles in Spain, when we simply didn't return to grunting and moaning. After twenty minutes of smaller sessions interspersed with periods of rest, we finally reached our Dogpile phase with no alarm clock.

What woke me up was Walt's snoring. He didn't have his CPAP on, so he was free to evoke his own, weird mix of complete abandonment and pulmonary restruction, noisily inhaling and more or less moaning on exhale, with every shred of evidence suggesting that his trip to the land of Nod involved an Extended Cut of our earlier shenanigans. Just a few hours before midnight, and none of us had had dinner. I worked on some salmon, Minute Rice and broccoli and eventually managed to pull the big guy out of his somnambulist onanism. He trudged out of bed, no shoes on and necktie askew, and hugged me while I worked.

"You happy?"

For a while, there's nothing than the sound of the pan sizzling. I nod, eventually. Sure, I'm happy. I get a few weeks to act like the overgrown teenager I am; what's not to like?

"I feel like I keep saying it," Walt then adds, "but I'm just glad you're here. I'm glad about... a lot of things. About you, Sarah... Us."

I peck his cheek and refocus on the fish I want to avoid turning into a charred husk. "You... saved me, Grem. I hope you know that. I was between relationships, as you know, I thought I was too old for anything else and, well..."

I nod. "I know. You saved me, too. I'd probably be in a wheelchair, if it weren't for you."

We keep hugging. I keep cooking. Love overflows, much like grief did, and it's everything I have so I don't start bawling over plates I'm setting up. So, overwhelmed, I shake my head. I can't speak.

Walt knows he doesn't need to interject. He carefully angles my head with a finger, and kisses me. There's no tension in need of releasing there - it's love in its purest expression. What wants to come out is something deep and heartfelt; what actually comes out is a hunger burp.

Walt blinks a few times, then leans on the countertop - and reaches that point of his where he's entirely silent, but his belly is rather unsubtly shaking up and down.

[nextinline-if]

......... OH C'MON VI, IM TRYING TO BE AS NICE AS POSSIBLE ABOUT THIS! How can I NOT make jokes about you having affairs when you are LITERALLY talking about being a side piece for the grem! Are you just leaning in to it now? I'm gonna have to hide another Whoopi cushion in your home for this

It’s quite hurtful that I get all the blame when Grem suggested it.

🥺

But ok, I will accept all of the blame 😔

[milliekou]

Full colour, bust commission for Cherry Jam who wanted a ygo leaning  (cel shading-ish) version of their water elf OC, Grem.

✨ Support Me on Ko-Fi | Commissions Page ✨

[pan-fried-autism]

REVEMGE STORY TEE HEE HEE

Bowler kept using explosion blasts on my characters so I’m writing a story as revenge

This story is called nikolai get Fired :(((((((

AHEM

one day nikolai was sitting at his awesome desk and leaning back in his gamer chair.

“man.” he said, “I love being self employed. I can’t be fired and I get paid one million dollars an hour”

he was so cool.

suddenly, somebody came through his desk mirror. it looked like nikolai but he was dark and edgy.

“hello. I am SHADOW YOU. My name is spelled with a ye. my name is Nikolye.

“woah. what are you doing here”

shadow nikolye gave him something

it was papers.. and they were pink.

he KNEW what it meant.

“you’re fuuh.. fuh…. FIRING ME?????????”

“ye”

Several cartoon sound effects played as Nikolai took in the news.

“damn 😔”, he said, saying the emoji as a series of 0s and 1s

Shadow nikolye sat in the gamer chair as nikolai packed his hello kitty themed suitcase and slinked out the door.

he drove home in his F 150. he didn’t remmmber owning one

When he got home Grem was eating his t patch’s and plutonium at the same time

“Germ. I got fired” he said so so so so sadly

“Nikolai that is cringe. why”

“my evil shadow self did it”

“oh lol”

That night Grem laughed at him at dinner and he got very sad.

“Grem please I needed those million dollars a second”

“nikolai all you do with them is but Pokémon cards”

“oh”

That night (but more) nikolai lay awake.

“nikolai will you go the fuck to sleep already” Grem asked gently

“but my money.. sniff sniff 🥺”

“cant you become a v tuber?”

“That’s true.”

“yeah. get out of bed this instant and start playing genshin impact@

At roughly 2:30 in the morning nikolai sat at his basement desk playing genshin impact using a really basic looking v tuber rig. in his Defense he didn’t really know how to make one. he made 1 billion dollar

[lunar-bizarre]

Trying to decide what to name our zombear when he gets here (hurry up shipping gods!!)

The current list (favorites in green):

Mort/Morti

Mori

Mob

Grime(s)

Grem(lin)

Bug(s)

Boo-boo

Beetle

Stitch(es)

Newt

(Rambles below the banner)

💚---Edit: His name is Mildew!---💚

We are leaning heavily towards Mort or Mori. Mort short for Mortician and because it's just kinda cute and fun to say. Mort. And Mori because of Momento Mori and it is the Japanese word for Forest. Honestly super torn between the two and may end up naming them Mort-Mori and calling them by either depending on mood.

[smores-artist]

Decided to throw in a quick expression sheet of @thestupidbutterfly's OC Grem! This time I leaned into more of the goblin/gremlin kind of facial structure, and it honestly makes them look super cheeky.

Also concerning the OC I posted earlier this week, I'm 100% sticking with Dixie for her name and I'm about to color her in a few hours!

[zorlok-if]

Ciel + Ashheart

A short from an AU where Ciel is the MC of Vespertines (by the incredible @mondaysandwich)

Minor spoilers

"You look cold." Ash observes.

Ciel nods, shrugging, somewhat surprised Ash is looking at them instead of the silhouette of Bareport at their feet, its distant buildings glittering in the twilight. From this vantage point, the city manages to appear harmless. Ciel has been sitting in awe, studying the movements of the traffic like an astronomer watches the stars, imagining the lives of the people crawling like ants through labyrinthine streets, and toying with the tassels along the edge of the blanket Ash laid out. They'd assumed Ash was doing the same. The whole point of coming here was to admire the view.

"I'm always cold," Ciel mumbles, shifting slightly, searching for a position that puts less weight on their lower back.

"Right.” Incredulity elongates Ash's words. "But your hands almost look dead."

"You're one to talk." Ciel turns, eyes drifting to Ash's hands before meeting their eye-line with a mischievous head tilt.

"Yeah," Ash laughs. "But you're human—or, mortal at least—so, aren't dead hands something to be concerned about?"

One of Ciel's eyebrows raises, their lips twisting into a smirk. "Wow. Ashheart, are you concerned for my well being?"

Their nose scrunches up—a flare of annoyance. "Maybe. So what? I think it’s pretty clear that I'm invested in you," their hand raises to Ciel's back, hovering over their left shoulder blade—over the tattoo Ash inked into them. Their touch is gentle, almost delicate, the antithesis of what Ciel expects. They fight the desperate urge to lean back or shrug off their long velvet coat. Thankfully, Ash pulls their hand away rather quickly, ending the internal debate. Their smile shifts to the side, dark eyes twinkling with the lights of the distant city. "Besides, I find you mildly amusing. I want you to stick around… for now."

Ciel clears their throat, taking a moment to remember what the Hell they were talking about. "Right. Still, look at you: being nice, caring even. Grem would be proud."

"Yeah. I guess," they snort, absent-mindedly playing with a lighter. "Don't tell anybody—especially Grem. I have an image to uphold." Ash falls silent, averting their eyes. The concern hasn't left their face, and though their gaze lies on Bareport's skyline, their focus remains elsewhere.

"It's normal for my hands to do this," Ciel assures them. "My arteries are weird. Basically, when I get cold or anxious or scared my blood doesn't flow properly." They extend their fingers, turning their hands over to display the full extent of the discoloration. "Makes my hands look dead—amongst other things."

"Is that because of—"

"No," Ciel flinches, a shiver running down their spine. They tuck a lock of graying hair behind their pointed ear. "It's from before."

"So, that’s just because it's cold?" Ash asks, pointing at Ciel's hands. There's something stiff in their smoky voice and a hollowness in their unfading grin. Ash seems worried.

"Yeah, it's just from the cold," Ciel responds, curiosity sparked.

Ash nods, a shadow of relief flitting across their expression. Playfulness returning to their smile, they look at Ciel once more. "Would this help?" they ask, leaning in and placing their hand over Ciel's.

Heat radiates from Ash's palm like a crackling fire. Ciel's skin burns, intense—but for once, not unpleasant—pain jolts through them. Their body quickly adjusts to the temperature and the pain fades, not just the searing burn, but a dull ache they've become so used to they barely even notice it. All the pain trickles away. The only thing they feel is Ash.

Giddy butterflies flutter in Ciel's stomach. They turn away, grimacing and rolling their eyes instinctively, mortified by this sudden burst of glee. A short, clipped laugh escapes their throat. "Yeah, that helps." Blushing deeply, they can't help but add, "But I mean—if you're really looking to help—it's not just my hands that are cold."

Ciel doesn't look over at Ash. They instantly know they'll be embarrassed by whatever reaction they might have. Ciel's lips part, moments away from saying, "Câlice, forget it, that was a bad joke," when Ash sits down behind them.

Ash envelops Ciel—arms wrapping around them, fingers interlacing with theirs, chin nestling into the crook of their neck. Ciel can feel Ash's heart beating against their back, right over Ash's gift. They relax into Ash’s embrace, wiry muscles releasing, even more pain seeping away. But Ciel doesn’t notice any of that. Not at this moment. Right now their attention is focused solely on their back, on Ash’s chest, on Ash's pulse. They smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. Ciel didn't realize a demon could have a heart.

"Is that better?" Ash murmurs. Their breath, like the rest of them, hot on Ciel's ear.

"Yeah," Ciel sighs. "Much better."