#and taking classes that are geared towards my interests and strengths will be good for me

[semi-imaginary-place]

How to use Ignatz in FE3H

Ignatz is pretty much the only unit that gets better on maddening, his innate hit+20 is a godsend and his versatility starts shinning through so you start being able to do a lot of interesting, fun, and advanced builds with him. There's a reason we call him chadnatz, he's got one of the highest crit rates in the game too. Playing Ignatz at all I feel like is pretty unconventional given how underutilized he is.

The first thing to realize is that Ignatz is designed as a support and tactical unit not as a nuke (although there's ways to do that, stay tuned). In normal play he's geared toward hard and maddening difficulties where most units can't take down enemies on their own so first you have units like Ignatz weaken them to spoon feed exp into your other units. You have to realize that Ignatz doesn't attack units for his benefit but for the benefit of other units on your team. Ignatz works as a great sapper and saboteur as he can gain access to abilities and combat arts like seal strength, break shot, or poisonstrike, (and ward arrow if you're having mage problems). In this capacity assassin or bow knight suit him well as they allow him to weave in and out of combat with little risk to himself while weakening enemies. Bow knight especially has the highest range in the game allowing him to always get the first hit in while also never getting hit if he can't finish off the enemy. Put him on bow knight with seal strength, poison strike, and breakshot (or ward arrow) for a mobile sapper, this will also help with crowd control. My personal favorite for Ignatz is Bow Knight sapper because it's fun, he helps a lot with crowd control and taking down tough enemies with lots of hp and half the time Ignatz crits and kills them anyways. As bow knight he can strike first and retreat thus baiting out enemies one at a time.

Because he's built as a support unit his offensive stats are low and if you want him as an offensive unit you will have to pay attention to those this is usually strength (or magic if you want a magic build). For example you'll want Ignatz to spend time leveling in fighter and brigand for the strength growth as well as death blow. Like many units with lower stats, SNIPER is probably the easiest and most efficient use of Ignatz, it plays to his strength and involves the least amount of grinding extraneous skills and classes. Hunter's volly is one of the best combat arts in the game and Ignatz can sometimes kill with hunter's volley and even when he can't he has 2 chances to crit and will usually crit at least once and kill the enemy anyways. He's a good sniper, keep him down the archer line for a dex build and he'll crit half the time.

You can and should go crit fishing with Ignatz. This is Ignatz's best shot at killing things on his own and its not mutually exclusive with the other builds, because Ignatz has good dex and luck growth rates, and often goes down the archer line he often ends up with some of the best crit rates in the game. Like even if you just intend to make him a sapper 50% of the time he'll crit and kill the enemy anyways. Can honestly go for a dex build on him.

Now if you feel like getting spicy here's some other options. Because of his high accuracy you can give Ignatz an axe as he will offset axe's low accuracy and the axes' higher might will compensate for his low strength. You can do the standing wyvern lord or you can do war master. For war master you have the additional option of going brawl. Brawling war master is another interesting option for Ignatz because brawl has the benefit of having Ignatz hit twice, war master has innate crit+10, Ignatz has high crit, so all this together builds a crit machine. It's not as efficient a use of your time, but it is fun. The true Chadnatz appreciator brawling war master. (can also pick up brawl avo for survivability).

You can also make Ignatz a mage or magic archer. I'd say he's about as good a mage as Ingrid. The main advantage is that he gets dark mage and dark bishop, neither of which are great classes but it does shake things up. What I tend to do it just make him a sniper/bow knight and equip a magic bow when needed instead of building him especially for magic but I'm not fond of magic builds so that's just my personal preference. His spell list is actually decent so it is a viable option. One of the best things is that he has physic. He's also a pretty viable dancer so he can heal on the turns he doesn't dance.

On that note you can also make him a swords class but I wouldn't recommend this on anything except normal difficulty because on higher difficulties and especially maddening, sword classes are so bad. A swordsmaster Ignatz on maddening is going to be doing 0 damage and die in 1 hit because swords are just too low might to keep up in maddening. I've also heard interesting things about trickster Ignatz which would allow a couple physic uses and free Linhardt up to do something else like dance or be an offensive mage. Of course then you are giving up on his offensive potential entirely and may spend the turn giving up an opportunity to attack and take down an enemy.

tldr: crit heavy hunter's volley sniper maybe bow knight with some support functions.

[junewild]

you do a lot of rock climbing right? how did you get into it? I think it would be fun and I have some friends who go to gyms for it but I'm not sure how to build the initial strength in wrists/shoulders/etc to start having fun and stop sliding off of walls

i haven't climbed much in the last year due to grad school & finances, but i'm very excited about starting it up again! one of my exes got me an intro class & gear as a birthday present & it just immediately stuck for me. i started going to the gym three times a week because it was such a good workout AND it was interesting and fun.

there are two ways to do it tbh! either do a few more pushups and pull-ups every day (horrible. boring.) or give yourself extra time to climb every baby route as many times as you can with breaks to cool down in-between & then start climbing as far as you can get on every intermediate route. either way, make sure you're eating lots of protein & drinking lots of water. you'll build muscle way faster than you expect, especially at the beginning, in my experience. also if you can afford it, buy your own shoes--even cheap ones will be SO SO SO much better than rentals. and take intro classes if you can--having good form will go a LONG way towards helping you not tire out too fast.

[intubatedangel]

Cold Snap: Chapter 1

I’m back, again, hopefully a bit more consistently. This time returning to the world of Anna Swift with a story that’s been an idea for almost 2 years but couldn’t quite come together.  No resus in this part, just setting up the scene, but I hope you enjoy.

----------

Shona dragged her large suitcase up the ramp and onto the lower deck of the old water taxi. It had become almost like an old friend to her over the last few years, the point of seperation between home and college. She turned and waved to her parents, who stood back on the quay, watching thier daughter leave for the last semester of her college life. In truth she wasn't going all that far. Only a dozen or so miles as the crow flies, and within the limits of the same greater city area. But while the city had grown and expanded to absorb her old home town as a mere suburb, the city's transport links had not kept pace. While the rail network ran along each side of the river, it didn't cross at this end of the city. There were plans for new bridges, but they never materialised. And so, instead of taking a 3 hour trip on the city metro, Shona would take the trusty water taxi that had been crossing the river back and forth for as long as her mother remembered, and be at her dorm within 40 minutes.

A good idea really, she thought, pulling on the suitcase behind her, trying to get it rolling again. She cursed internally at her professors for giving them so much work over the spring break, the suitcase weighed down with what felt like half a library. A gust of cold wind blasted her face, and she thought of another curse, this one at the northern climate. To many, spring break was about running around on beaches nearly naked having parties and getting tanned. To say it would not be advisable here was an understatement. This far north, winter was still clinging on, to the point where snow lay on the ground just a few weeks ago.

Shona pulled her scarf up a little further as she dragged the suitcase toward the door at the rear of the cabin, where luggage could be stowed out of the way. She pushed it open then spun to grip the suitcase handle with both hands and haul it over the small threshold, staggering back a little as the wheels finally rocked over. A gust of wind sucked the door closed with a loud bang and shone flinched, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. Like public transport in most cities, no one so much as glanced at her.

She ducked into the luggage area, and her heart sank. All the lower shelves were full. She walked over, wondering just how she was going to stow the case. She vaguely heard the door behind her, then the sound of rolling wheels that approached and stopped beside her.

"Erm, would you like a hand?" A male voice said. Shone turned to him. He was young, maybe a similar age to herself, with black hair in that intentionally messy style. He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Not infering anything about the strength of your gender...You just looked... and I need to..." He glanced at his own case, similar sized to hers.

Shona shook her head "Sorry, yes that would be great." She smiled. "We can each lift half." She commented, prompting a grin from the young man. Together they lifted her bag. Well, Shona steadied it at least.

"Student?" The young man asked, with a slight pant from the effort. Shona nodded, and opened her mouth to reply. "Wait, let me try and guess. Your on this taxi, so you must be studying at Central. That amount of books, over spring break no less, narrows it down. Medical students are already back, my roomate's doing Chem and says all the natural sciences work is based on their own labs now. And, I haven't seen you in any of my classes or on my floor of the library, so by process of elimination I'm going to say... History."

"Impressive." Shona told him with a grin. "You must be studying literature." She grinned at his shocked face. "My roommate is in that course. She can almost quote the entire works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at this point, and she told me that almost everyone goes through a Sherlock phase in that course."

He chuckles. "Well played. I must know the name of the lady who bested me." He said, with a mock bow.

Shona couldn't help but chuckle too, though it was drowned out by the horn of the water taxi, as it gave it's last call. Shona felt the familiar rumble as the engine got into gear and began to ramp up in power. "Shona. Shona Smith-Carlson. Yes it's double barrelled. Ardent Feminist of a mother refused to give up her maiden name."

"Well theres nothing wrong with that. Though by the look on your face you aren't too happy it."

"It's not that," Shona shrugs. "She just never shuts up about it. Still loves dad though." She trails off, the silence starting to become awkward. "What about you?" She re-directs. "I'm guessing your name isn't actually Sherlock."

He smiles. "Jack Davidson. Not literally, My dad's actually called Mark."

"You must have practiced that line." Shona said, trying not to laugh at the perfect delivery.

"Maybe once or twice, but it's a good ice breaker, don't you think?"  He replied with another dazzling smile.

It was a nice smile. The boat jerked slightly as it left the quay and started its journey across the river. Shona rocked a little, Jacks arm moved, lifting a little, not quite reaching out, but ready to steady her if she had stumbled, and Shona suddenly realised he was flirting. Why did this always happen? She fought to not roll her eyes. Her girlfriend was going to rib her again. She would have to let him down gently. She took off her scarf, wrapping it and putting it into one pocket, and then unzipped her coat. She caught his eyes flick down as all men’s do, then slightly to one side, catching sight of the rainbow badge.

He blew out a breath, then nodded with a wry grin. "That's a good move. I am out played once again. Though I suppose we aren't quite playing the same game are we."

Shona shrugged. "Sorry." She mumbled.

Jack waved his hand. "Don't be. Not like you can change who you are. How about we get my bag stowed and then we grab a coffee on the upper deck?" Shona looked at him, puzzled. "Your roommate. From what you were saying she's a year ahead of me. A bit of early information is always good."

Shona considered it for a moment. He wasn't being pushy or angry like one of those guys. And she was planning on getting a coffee. So she shrugged. "Why not, company is always nice."

Together they lifted Jack's case, a little lighter than her own, and placed it in the rack. But as he was checking it was secure, Shona felt a rumble. A different rumble, one that she had never felt before on over two dozen journeys. If she'd been outside, she would have seen a plume of black smoke rise out the tall exhaust stack. If she'd been in the cabin that qualified as the bridge of the boat, she'd have heard voices filled with panic as alarms squarked.

Shona and Jack started up the stairs in front of the luggage compartment, when there was another rumble, and a strange noise filled the passenger cabin as the whole ship vibrated. Shona stopped halfway up the stairs, looking behind her. Jack turned to her, three steps higher up.

"What is it?" He asked

Shona shook her head "The boat. Somethings wr..."

 Her voice was totally drowned out by the noise of the engine exploding.

**********

Officer Matt Jones sat on the small river patrol boat, bobbing slightly against it's mooring. He glanced at his watch. Just another 7 hours and 50 minutes of his 8 hour shift. He sighed, feeling that boiling anger as he rembered getting busted down to river patrol. Not even standard beat cop, river patrol. In March, in this city, where even the foolish wouldn't think of getting in the river. Only the desperate. But this section of the river didn't even have any bridges, ruling that out too.

"So..." The old timer, Winston, who was now his partner muttered. "Who did you piss off to land yourself here?"

Jones breathed out slowly, sending the anger with it. "You know Dean Campbell?"

"The head of HR Dean Campbell?" Jones nodded, Winston whistled. "What did you do?"

"I may have pointed out that he was... inadequate for the position. In somewhat more forceful terms. To his face..."

Winston spat into the river. "That would do it. Not that you are wrong of course, that little weasel has done nothing but damage to the department, but, not exactly the wisest decision.

Jones nodded. "What about you?"

"I asked to be here." Winston replied, prompting a look from Jones. "Coming up on retirement. The last thing I wanted was to be that stereotype. Always liked fishing, figured I'd get some boat time and avoid anything likely to finish me off before my service is done."

"That's fair enough I guess." Jones told him, sipping at the coffee, watching the old water taxi make it's way across the river. He noticed the black smoke, but thought nothing of it. "Does anything interesting happen here?"

"Wouldn't have picked this spot if it did." Winston replied. "Occasionally that floating wreck needs a hand when it breaks, but that's about it." He says turning to look. "Speking of which, that exhaust don't look too healthy." He said a moment before the radio squarked, lighting up an indicator on the emergency channel.

"This is the Beetle, may-day, may-day, our engine is...." The radio cut off as a gout of thick black smoke burst from the exhaust tube, and the distant boat seemed to lurch. A split second later the sound wave of the explosion reached them.

"Get us moving!" Jones shouted to Winston, as he grabbed at his own radio. "This is officer Jones, Badge number 4582. We have a major incident in progress on the river between....between..."

"Between North Inglebank and Trippers point!" Winston shouted.

"Between North Inglebank and Trippers point. Explosion on a water taxi, we are en-route, unknown casualties, unknown situation, requesting additional backup for evacuation and medical assistance!"

"Acknowledged Officer Jones. Relaying now."

Winston had gotten the speed boat unmoored, tossing a high-vis life jacket to Jones, before he gunned the motor and they began to cut through the waves, heading for the vessel that was now smoking from more than just the exhaust.

(Edit: Fixed some errors and details. A little out of practice.)

[mythrilhusk]

!!Kill Techno-sensei!! - Chapter Two

Words: 2,076 Chapter One (Last)  AO3 Version Chapter 3 (Next)

The class absorbs the threat, stunned, hushed. Quackity clenches his fists. "Why the fuck would you do that?" His defiance shatters the silence. 

"Because I can." Technoblade replies dismissively. "But I am here to teach, so please, open your textboo-"

"No." Quackity smirks, wearing a confidence he doesn't feel. "Why would you destroy the Earth? You're immortal, sure, but you seem like the kind of guy who's easily bored. What would you have left after your little temper tantrum?" 

One floppy ear flicks irritably. "You see, the idea is, I'd die as well." 

"If you want to die so fucking bad, why don't you just let us kill you, asshole?" 

"That kinda defeats the purpose of the threat. You see, you're completely correct in your assessment. I am bored." Technoblade's light yet nearly monotone voice grates on Quackity's nerves. "I'm simply too good. Unbeatable, even. I've searched and searched, but haven't found a single worthy foe." 

"So you failed!" Quackity crows, slamming his fist on the desk. Psychological warfare, baby.  

Tommy takes up the jeer as well, "You failed, big man, ho, ho!! Eat shit!"  

Technoblade scowls and buries his muzzle in the thick textbook. "Why don't we move on. Page three-hundre-" 

"Move on?? Move on?? You killed my family, Technoblade, you fucking killed them all! I can't fucking move on from that!" Quackity snarls. 

Exhaustion leaks from Technoblade's glower. "I've killed many families, Quackity. All for one goal." 

"Fuck you and your motherfucking anarchy!! You think I'm scared of you?? I- I-" The words choke in Quackity throat as Technoblade stands up. He shrinks in his seat.

"Stay away from him." Sapnap growls. 

Technoblade ignores the students completely, instead turning to the whiteboard and picking up a marker. "History is not circular." 

"What's the fucking point." Quackity grumbles under his breath. There's no winning against a man who'd have no qualms about punting him. 

"Nor is it straight." 

"Pfft, knew it. Now everyone who hates history will get cancelled for being homophobic." Tommy somehow manages to both lighten the mood and make everything worse at the same time. 

Technoblade doesn't get angry or annoyed, however. "Heh. History is pretty gay, not gonna lie. It's also-" He steps away from his crude drawing of a squiggly line, "a helix. History repeats itself in stages. Anyone want to guess why?" 

Tommy leans back in his chair. "Because you're fucking dumb, that's why." 

"Ranboo?" Technoblade addresses the creepy, quiet boy huddled over his desk in the back of the class. 

"Uh- well-" 

"Nothing ever stays the same, big guy." Tubbo interjects. "It's not as simple as stuffing it all into a one dimensional form. Who's to say it's even a line at all?"

Technoblade shrugs. "Fair, fair. Why don't y'all discuss." 

With that, most of the tension in the room dissolves. Groups form as students gravitate towards their friends. Chatter fills the former silence. Quackity forces himself to join in, laughing and pretending like everything is normal again. But nothing about this is normal. 

He can't kill Technoblade through sheer strength. But he could easily outwit him. The gears spin in his mind, working out a plot. 

++++

The first week has gone by uneventfully. Nobody's tried to kill Technoblade yet, who in turn has behaved like a responsible teacher, refraining from punting anyone. It's so boring. 

The last class of Friday ends with the bell, and the kids file out. Technoblade ignores the bitter glares from the little ‘gang’ that calls themselves Ducklings. They haven't attempted anything yet, and Technoblade doubts they'll ever find the guts to actually go through with their plots. Pity, really.

Tommy remains behind, trying to shoo Tubbo, who refuses to leave him. "Teacher!" Tommy stomps up to Techno and slams his notebook on the desk. He's a blustery scamp, but Technoblade has seen how he brightens the classroom and helps his peers. 

"Tommy." 

"Let me kill you." 

"Us." Tubbo corrects. 

"Let us kill you or else." 

"Or?" 

“I'll fail all my classes." Tommy grins, seeming confident he's found a bargaining chip. "And I'll tell everyone else to fail theirs, too. You'll be known as the worst fucking teacher to have ever teachered!" 

"Oh, the horror." Technoblade deadpans. He's got to admit, the kid has guts. "You think I care?" 

"You've gotta. You're our teacher, after all." 

"K." Technoblade doesn't smile. "I'm afraid I can't just let you kill me." 

"Then prepare to be failed upon!" 

"But." Techno holds up a hand. "But, if you try to pass your classes, I will teach you how to kill me. Deal?" 

Tubbo pipes up, "That will be adequate. Come on, Tommy." 

Technoblade waits until both are out of the classroom. He doesn't feel guilty at all. What should he feel guilty for, after all? Simmering rage burns in his chest, a constant companion to the acid in his mind. 

Next class, he promises himself. Next class, the training will begin. He'll be one step closer to achieving his goals. 

Technoblade rises and lets his human form melt away. The voices in his head scream, as they always have, as they always will, hundreds of thousands of souls trapped in here with him. His eyes-- all millions of them-- blink open as his hundreds of wings unfurl. Anyone who could see him now might name him a beast or an angel, and either could be correct. But Technoblade knows both are false promises. Humans can't create beasts or angels, after all. 

Demons, however, are apparently a different matter. 

++++

Ranboo only went back to get his notebook. He can't forget his notebook; that is the one thing he's not allowed to forget. Shadows seep from every corner of the classroom. He shivers as he hastily scrambles to his desk. 

His book isn't in his desk. Where is it?? He can't lose it. He rummages in the desk frantically. Where is it, where is it, where is it?? 

The window creaks, and Ranboo yelps, leaping away from the sudden draft. "Wh-who's there?" 

"Hey." The kind voice greets him from the darkness. "You're out late." 

"I- I just- uhh, who are you?" 

"Who are you?" 

"I- uhh, I'm Ranboo." He backs away to the door. On the floor, silver glints in a shaft of moonlight. The spiral of his notebook. Crap. The shadowed form leaps silently into the classroom and kneels to pick up the book. Crap, crap. "Uh- that's- that's mine, actually." 

"Is it, now?" The gentle mockery in his tone sets Ranboo on edge. 

"Yes, actually, so- so give it back. Please?" 

The mysterious form opens Ranboo's book and flips through it. "Interesting. Alright." He hands it back to Ranboo, who snatches it and scrambles for the door. "Actually, Ranboo, I wanted to talk to you." 

The words yank Ranboo to a halt. He wants to retort, he wants to say no, he wants to leave, but instead he turns back meekly. "Okay?" 

"You're in class 3-E, yeah?" 

"Y-yeah...?" 

"Good. That's good. Do you want your teacher to die?" 

"Huh?" Ranboo tenses, confused by the seeming non sequitor. "I- I mean." Does he want Technoblade to die? Does he want anyone to die, for that matter? "N-not necessarily?" 

"Hm. Alright." 

"Who are you?" Ranboo gathers what little courage he has and steps back towards the door. 

"You, hm, you can call me Dream." The man steps out of the shadows. The mask over his face grins eerily at Ranboo. "I've got a proposition for you, Ranboo." 

++++

"Metal melts in the bastard's skin, so anything with metal is a fucking waste of time." Quackity spreads the pages of his plan over the tree-house's table. 

"Maybe he's a vampire." Karl offers, sitting on the table and messing up Quackity's perfect layout. "Try wood stakes and garlic." 

"Vampires aren't real, dumbass." Connor rolls his eyes. 

"Well, neither are immortal pig-men mutants, but here we are." 

"He's a pig-man, not a vampire. Maybe try something for werewolves? Silver?" Sapnap joins in, swinging on the hammock. 

"He's not a fucking werewolf!" Quackity shoves Karl off the table. "Or a vampire. He's a motherfucking demon, that asshole is, and we need to fucking kill him!" 

"Language!!" The screech from the roof of the treehouse freezes everyone in place. 

"Karl." Quackity says calmly. "Who the fuck did you invite to our secret hideout?" 

"Nobody!" Karl cries. 

"Connor?" 

"He said he'd bring coke!" Connor cries. 

A short man dressed in goth black and red accents drops through the window and smiles at the Ducklings. "I did, but the cans burst on the way." 

"Not soda-" 

"Language!!" The man cries again, shushing Connor. "You kids shouldn't mess with bad stuff, anyway." 

"We don't." Quackity shoots a glare at Connor. "Anyway, it's none of your fucking business. Why the fuck are you here?? What do you want??" 

"I, uhh, just thought I'd help with your problem." The man grins. "You want to kill your teacher, right?" 

"Yeah? But-"

"Well, there you go! I can help you! Name's Bad, by the way. Badboyhalo." 

"How can you help? And what do you want in return??"

"Oh, hmm, how about seventy-five percent of the bounty." 

"Deal." Twenty-five percent of ten billion is still more than enough, and Quackity would prefer revenge on Technoblade over riches, anyway. "How do we kill him?" 

"I've got associates working on that tiny problem. We stole- uh, developed a way to hurt him temporarily, but he can't be killed unless you hit his heart, and his regen powers are too strong to let you reach that with any weapons we currently possess." 

"How the fuck do you know all this??" 

Bad smirks. "Social networking."

++++

Ranboo paces in the chilly alleyway, reading and re-reading his book as shivers wrack his body. He found it. Good. Everything is fine, now. He's fine. 

He shuts out the uneasiness caused by the blurry darkness over his memories. He's never had a good memory, which is why he has this book in the first place. 

He huddles in the corner of the grimy alley to complete his homework, and wonders briefly why there's a second notebook in his backpack also marked 'Do Not Read'. Maybe he forgot he already had one. No worries. It's fine. 

Everything is fine. 

++++

"Class." Technoblade greets his students as they file in. Quackity glares at the monster. He's in his piggy form today, his cloak swishing across the ground. 

"Rise." Tommy calls out the traditional honor given to teachers. But the class hadn't done this before for Technoblade. Quackity glances around at his fellow students, who all seem just as confused. He stands up. The others hesitantly follow his lead. 

"Bow." Tommy sets the example of a shallow bow. Then he straightens and draws a revolver. "Lock on!" 

Quackity stares as Tubbo, Eret, and Wilbur also draw out guns and take aim on Technoblade. 

"Heh??" Technoblade chuffs in confusion. 

"Target on Korosensei!" Tommy snaps out the order. "Fire!" 

"Korosensei??" Quackity's disbelieving laugh is drowned out by the ringing cracks of the guns and the shrill shrieks of students.

"HEH??" Technoblade chuffs again amidst the chaos. Quackity makes the signal to his gang as they stay out of the line of fire. 

"All stop!" Tommy barks. The gunfire ceases. 

Technoblade stares at his class, a tusky smile cracking across his muzzle. "For your first assassination attempt, that was four stars, kids." 

"Wow, that's really good!" Tubbo cheers and high-fives Tommy. 

"Out of ten." 

"Oh. Awww, come on, we deserve some credit for actually getting guns!" 

"You missed." Technoblade replies. "And you ruined my whiteboard." 

"That's your fault, innit, though, big man. If you'd've taken the bullets, the whiteboard would be alright." 

"That's true, that's true." Technoblade's smile fades into a scowl. "But you also put your classmates in danger." 

"They could've asked us what the plan was." Wilbur hums. "It's really their fault for sitting between us and you. And therefore it's your fault for assigning their seats there." 

"True." Eret agrees. "It's all Korosensei's fault."  

++++

Philza walks between his guards, Punz and Ponk, as the two escort him through the compound. "What happened?" He asks, faking calm. 

"Technoblade added another term to our deal." President Skeppy walks backwards in front of Philza. Beside him, Awesamdude keeps a hand on his holstered revolver. 

"Did he." 

"He wants his class trained for assassination. In return, he told us his weakness." 

"Hm." Philza smiles, hiding the whirlwind of chaos and bloodlust behind his eyes. "Pog."

@@@@ KOROSENSEI NEVER DIES @@@@

Chapter 3 (Next)

[iplaymatchmaker]

hello and good day! i would like a matchup for a3! and ikerev, please! she/her pronouns. you can call me juice, though! hm i think a good description of me personality wise would be im usually cheerful, friendly, childish but i tend to hide a lot of my negative feelings and overthink quite a lot. towards others i'm always curious about the littlest details of someone's hobbies or interest and sometimes i talk more than i listen. love literature and things like fashion or games (1)

Hello, thanks for requesting juice! Sorry for the long wait but I hope you enjoy it! I was pretty excited to write a match up for a3! since it’s been living rent free in my head for the last few weeks. I got a little carried away with the last prompt cause it was so fun to write, but I hope you like it! Also, the ikerev one might take some time but I’ll try to not take too long. Have fun!

I match you with

Tsuzuru!

The two of you first meet after you watch one of their plays, “A Clockwork Heart.” When you realize that the lead and writer is a classmate of yours from college you can’t help but approach him a few days later to discuss the play further.

He seems self conscious at first but quickly opens up as the two of you discuss his script and before you know it one conversation has turned into an in-depth discussion over lunch.

After that first encounter, both of you start talking more often, quickly growing closer. Tsuzuru appreciates your cheerful attitude, making it easy for him to be comfortable around you.

Considering your love for literature, you often help him brainstorm for new ideas, always looking forward to seeing how he brings it to life on stage.

It is easy for you to fit in with the rest of the boys from Mankai, despite their constant prying on your relationship with Tsuzuru. After all the time the two of you spend together, it is no surprise when none of the boys (except Azami) bat an eyelash when you make it official, after a lot of back and forth between friendship and romance.

Prompt: Bonding

“The reason S was created in the first place was because Luke needed a companion. It’s tragic that he was the one who left him in the end.”

“Well, yes, but he also taught him to open up to people, insuring that he wouldn’t be alone when he was gone.”

You and Tsuzuru had been discussing the end of his latest play “A Clockwork Heart” for a while, arguing over whether or not the ending was tragic. When you approached him to offer your praise for his work earlier that day you hadn’t been expecting him to engage in your opinions on a play he wrote, but he was actually deeply invested in the conversation, despite the matter at hand being trivial to the actual substance of the story.

“He couldn’t have known though. He also put his own wishes aside to protect him. That alone makes the ending tragic.” You vividly remembered the tears you had shed when the show reached its climax, a result of both his script and his acting.

“It depends on your idea of what the ending was. S was a machine, so as long as Luke was alive they could meet again, when it was safe for the both of them. That makes the ending-“

Ring Ring

You almost chucked at the generic sound his phone made as it vibrated.

“Give me a sec.” he moved away from the bench before answering. It wasn’t long before he returned, a flush expression on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had kept you for so long. I actually need to get going.” He ran a hand through his hair, smiling shyly. It was only then that you noticed what time it was.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you for that long!” Now you were both flushed, the realization dawning on you that you had spent two hours talking.

“I-it’s fine. Um, we can continue this tomorrow, if you’d like?” you were surprised he actually wanted to talk again, a smile spreading over your face.

“Definitely. “

“Okay. See you then!” he waved as he ran off while simultaneously trying to dial someone, resulting in him almost falling on his face. You looked forward to tomorrow.

After that first encounter, you continued to meet during lunch to talk about other works, quickly realizing you had a similar taste in books and movies. It was an easy transition, going from acquaintances to friends.

“How’s the summer troupe’s play coming along?” It was easy to tell that he had been losing sleep again from the – almost – comical black circle under his eyes, but you asked anyway, hoping that you could offer some help.

“I know what I want to write, the words are just refusing to form and settle themselves on the page.” The frustration was evident on his face as he tried to put the pieces flying around his head in order. You tried to think of a way to help him but you knew that he needed to figure this out on his own.

“Come on.” You forcefully pulled him out of his chair, carefully shutting his laptop.

“W-wait. Where are we going?” you pushed him along, despite his protesting.

“Trust me.” You flashed him your biggest smile before setting of, only mildly aware that your hand was still around his wrist.

“The movies?” he seemed confused over what your objective was but you were confident it would help him out of his slump.

“Yes. Come on, I’ll even get us popcorn!” you were beaming as you led him inside.

“What are we watching?” Tsuzuru, finally resigned to his fate, flipped through the leaflet, looking at the moves currently playing.

“Your choice, I’m fine with whatever.” You hurried to the bar to pick up snacks, leaving him at the ticket booth.

“Look at those effects.”

“The acting is top notch.”

Tsuzuru had been so immersed in the movie he seemed to have forgotten all about his tiredness. When you exited the theatre you could practically see the gears turning in his head.”

“It’s a very different take on pirates than the summer troupe’s play, but if I exaggerate the characters even more then there would be great opportunity for comedy.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you as you observed him, completely lost in his own mind.

“So I take it the creative juices are flowing again?” he looked back at you, as if seeing you clearly for the first time in days.

“Yes! Thank you!” He put his arms around you, too far lost in his excitement to feel any awkwardness.

“I-I have to go write! I’ll see you tomorrow.” He continued shouting thank you over his shoulder as he run off with newfound energy. You expected you wouldn’t see him the next day, considering he’d probably be passed out by then, but you smiled anyway.

“See you later!”

Prompt : Cinderella:

“So, you’re thinking of doing Cinderella for the next play?” You and Tsuzuru were hanging out in his room, taking full advantage of Masumi’s absence that weekend.

“Yeah… I’m not sure how to go about it though. Everyone in the Spring Troupe agreed that I should be lead this time around but I just don’t see myself in the shoes of a prince… Itaru would probably be a better fit for the role.” You couldn’t help throwing a pillow his way.

“Hey! What was that for?” You sat up a little straighter, tempted to glare at him until he picked up on your annoyance.

“I can definitely picture you in the role of the prince.” You cleared your throat before switching to your best narrator voice.

A long, long time ago there lived a boy and a girl. They were the best of friends when they were children. The boy would often sneak out to meet with her and they would play for hours. But their happiness would not last long.

You see, the girl grew up to be the maid of one of the less-fortunate royal families in the kingdom. She had been forced into that position by her father’s latest wedding. It would also turn out to be his last, for he died a few years later, leaving her in the care of a wicked stepmother.

One the other hand, the boy grew up to be the most charming prince in the land. The women fawned over him and he always had everything his heart could desire.”

“I’m literally none of those things.”

“Fine then.”

The prince was an idiot who didn’t know how to take care of himself and never asked for help. He constantly worried his friends over his health but they loved him anyway.

“That’s not any better…”

“Shh, let me continue the story.”

Their difference in class ripped the two friends apart, putting an end to their relationship. While they weren’t allowed to meet again, they promised to never forget about each other. To keep that promise, the made matching bracelets and agreed to never take them off until they could meet again.

“Friendship bracelets? Who does that?”

“They were kids! Would you have preferred rings?”

“Wouldn’t those basically be promise rings?”

“I’m coming up with this on the spot, give me a break!”

That bracelet was what gave the girl the strength to continue living, despite her struggles.

When news of a ball arrived at the estate, her step-sisters were quick to start preparations, eager to have a chance at the prince’s hand in marriage. The girl was simply happy at the prospect of seeing her friend again.

When her family found out she was planning to attend the ball, they locked her in the cellar, not willing to risk any competition. The girl wept and wept, until suddenly a kind seeming lady appeared in front of her.

“Isn’t this just the movie?”

“Give it a second!”

The lady promised she would help her get to the ball if that was what she wished. Despite her suspicions, the girl earnestly declared that all she wanted was to see her friend again. And so the kind woman flicked her wrist and the rags the girl had been wearing were replace by a rich ball gown, paired with a glass slippers. The girl thanked her again and again before heading off in search of her lost friend.

“She doesn’t warn her about the time limit?”

“There’s no curfew here, it’s a stupid conflict anyway.”

You couldn’t contain the excitement and adrenaline that flowed through you as you went up the steps of the grand palace. You hadn’t been here since you were a child, when the king’s father still allowed you to visit, and childhood memories flooded your mind. It was difficult to keep your nerves at a reasonable level as you approached the guards at the front gate. By the time you had arrived at the palace, most of the guests were already inside, so you were completely alone when you handed the invitation, hoping the witch had done her work well.

“Enjoy your evening.” They smiled before urging you to step inside. A sense of awe filled you as you walked through the somewhat familiar halls, remembering all the places you and Tsuzuru would hide from the servants, before his title meant anything to you.

You weren’t sure you remembered the way to the main hall, so you followed the noise, hoping you could make your way there.

When you finally stood outside what seemed to be the entrance, you took a few deep breaths before walking forward, determined to see your friend again. When you stepped though the door you quickly realized that the door wasn’t the room’s main entrance, but the top of the grand staircase. Dread filled you as everyone’s eyes fell on you. If it wasn’t for the railing you thought you have fainted right then and there. You breathed in, allowing you hand to wrap around the bracelet the two of you had made so long ago, letting the warm feelings it carried spread through you.

You bowed once before making your way down the stairs, hoping you wouldn’t trip on your dress and make a fool of yourself before the night even started.

The moment you were off the last step, your eyes fell on your step-mother, eyeing you with absolute envy and disgust. You hoped the mask would be enough to conceal your identity.

You walked around the room for a bit, keeping to the less populated areas, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tsuzuru, disappointed to find that he was nowhere to be found.

“Please let this not be for nothing…”

You were about to make your way to the balcony, but a swarm of guests was suddenly in your path, dancing to the waltz the band had just started playing. You frantically looked around, searching for a way out when two arms wrapped around you, pulling you along with the rest of the dancers.

“I guess you’re my partner?” the face of the man that stood before you made your jaw drop. You had thought of so many things to say, but now that Tsuzuru was standing before you, the words seemed to catch in your throat.

“So, uh, are you having fun?” he was as awkward as you remembered. Something about the familiarity filled you with a sense of calm. I found him.

“I am now.” It was hard to contain the smile quickly spreading around your face.

“Actually I was-“that was when it was time to switch partners. When you felt his hand slip from yours, panic flooded through you. No… I didn’t have the chance to tell him.

As he pulled his hand away, his fingers brushed the bracelet on your wrist, eyes widening as he was whisked away by another partygoer, realization evident in his features. You tried to get closer, but were quickly taken away by another guest. Your eyes landed on Tsuzuru a few times but the hall was too crowded. It was almost suffocating. You took the first chance to slip out on the balcony, eager to get away from the crowds.

You stood at the railing, letting the air cool down your heated face. He had seen you, but you weren’t sure he would care enough to search. Negative thoughts occupied your mind as you gazed at the land beyond. Maybe this was foolish… He probably barely remembers me… He’s a prince after all. He was more important matter to attend to than a peasant he used to spend his free time with. You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your own loneliness catching up with you.

“Please don’t cry!” You were shocked to find Tsuzuru standing a few feet away from you, his face flushed and his knees bent. He must’ve been running.

“You’re the girl from back then, aren’t you?” he glanced down at your wrist, pulling up his own sleeve to reveal a bracelet identical to yours.

“Y-you kept it.” Your voice cracked, barely audible in the midst of the ongoing celebrations.

“Of course I did! It meant a lot to me.” The words seemed to call to something inside you and so you let the tears fall.

“W-what did I do? Please don’t cry!” he took a step closer, still unsure of what boundaries existed between you.

“I-I can’t help it. I’m just so happy!” you wrapped your arms around him, not caring who saw you. All that mattered in that moment was that the two of you were reunited at last.

“I missed you.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was crying too, by the way his heart beat against your, the way his hands shook, still wrapped around you in a tight embrace. Year’s worth of loneliness and regret spilled out of the both of you in a single moment.

You stayed like that for quite some time, allowing the relief to wash over you. When you looked at each other again, you couldn’t help but laugh at your state. You knew the scene must look ridiculous to any outside spectators, but none of them mattered. It felt like you were alone in the world, no barriers between you. Your class didn’t matter. You were just a boy and a girl who had been reunited.

“ The king was skeptical at first, knowing a commoner queen wouldn’t create any new alliances, but he could see the love his son had for the girl. And so they married. It’s said that the pair practically run down the stairs of the palace after their wedding, eager to get to their honeymoon, their laughter echoing through the streets.”

“That’s an ending befitting a prince Muku reads about in manga… I still don’t see where I fit into this… ”

“Fine. As they descended the staircase, the prince fell on his ass, causing even more laughter from the girl. A moment she would never let him forget.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest look on Tsuzuru’s face. He may be clumsy, but he has always been kind.

“It will need a lot modifications, especially considering the fact that none of us can exactly pull off female roles, but it could work.” At some point through the story Tsuzuru seemed to have pulled out a notebook, in which he was now scribbling away.

“Are you seriously taking notes?” he was still focused on the story, not letting the inspiration go to waste.

“Of course I am. You’re brilliant!” he pulled you in for a kiss, taking you completely by surprise.

“You’re the best.” He turned back to his note taking, leaving you with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

“You too.”

And they lived happily ever after.

[fusonzai]

I think I'm talking about confidence, I'm not too sure.

I was fifteen when I first saw Great Teacher Onizuka. My friend had lent me the DVD set (as you did when it was 2008) and I was about to spend the day watching it, feigning some illness to get out of school for the day. I needed some time alone, to process everything that had been going on around me.

For context, my parents were in the middle of a divorce. My mum, the most amazing person in the world to me, was not having a good time and I was not at all possessed with the skills to help her cope. Processing the concept of divorce, while trying to mediate the two adults going through it, wasn’t something I could handle. I didn’t know what I was doing. I needed a whole day away from friends and away from parents. While everyone was at their day job, I could think about everything and nothing, uninterrupted.

My attempt at getting out of school worked, however it came with a caveat. Mum had decided she’d take the day off with me. Feeling defeated but still stubborn, I insisted that if she was going to stay home too that we were watching GTO. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

GTO begins with our protagonist, Eikuchi Onizuka, squatting down by a payphone, trying to stare up the skirts of some high school girls coming down the nearby escalator. That’s a bold open. Two delinquents notice this and attempt to then extort him for cash. He promptly beats them up, forcing them to use all the money they have to buy him some food from the nearby convenience store. This scene establishes a few things straight off the bat: Onizuka is, first and foremost, a pervert and he’s physically strong but not to the point of unfairly asserting dominance over others. Onizuka dreams of being a teacher of all things. He wants to be the teacher he never had, being there for students outside the classroom as well as in. The series showcases Onizuka using his ex-biker gang leader skills and sheer determination to change the attitude of the antagonist students in his class. Each week he solves the reason behind their resistance toward him and they join his team until eventually he really is the Great Teacher, Onizuka.

The first delinquent problem Onizuka solves is that of Mizuki Nanako. Her parents aren’t divorced but they’re not exactly doing well. Ever since her father’s company started doing well and they moved into a mansion, she feels as though her parents just aren’t seeing eye to eye anymore. She blames it on a simple wall separating her parents’ private rooms. Before it got put up, her parents would talk and laugh together, sharing in their joys but also their defeats. Then before she knew it, they put a wall up and stopped sharing anything at all.

So, Onizuka arrives at her house. He’s got a bandana tied around his head, his abs gleaming as he’s smoking a cigarette. More importantly, he’s holding a sledgehammer, ready to demolish that wall. With her parents yelling at him threatening to call the police, Onizuka ascends the staircase and begins to take down that wall. Every powerful swing, shaking the wall and cracking the foundation.

(What a man what a man what a man what a might good man)

It felt cruel watching this scene with my mum. Here we were, two people still trying to process a big life event, opting to spend the day away from the problem. Here Onizuka was, just smashing through the problem with nothing but conviction, stupidity and sheer confidence. I couldn’t quite conceptualise the thought just yet but I think I envied that confidence. I wanted to be able to take a sledgehammer to this invisible problem and fix it. I didn’t know what an actual sledgehammer would solve nor was I even able to figure out what my situational sledgehammer would be, I just knew I wanted to be more like that. I wanted that confidence; I just didn’t know what it was yet.

Confidence. A complete assuredness in your actions. You may not have any idea of the outcome of said actions but you’re certain in the choice you made taking them. Maybe that’s just one definition. I struggle to this day with how to define confidence, I’ve been confident at different times in my life for different reasons. Mainly it’s been something I’ve found as I’ve gotten older though.

I struggled a lot with it when I was younger. I’d struggle to find it and when I did there was someone there trying to take it from me almost immediately. Pink polos were gay, skinny jeans were gay, being interested in anything outside the norm was gay as well. I wasn’t bullied by any means but there was always somebody around to tell you what they thought. I’d fold under that kind of pressure. I remember when I was 10 and we were in music class, I sang a little too loud and the popular girls behind me started pointing and laughing, clipping me before I got too sure of myself.

I got older and I thought I’d found confidence through weight training, but it was just arrogance. I genuinely thought I was better than other people in my creative writing class because I picked heavy things up and put them down. Of course, this had a drawback, whenever I’d meet someone bigger than me, I’d feel pathetic, jealous and inferior. I thought I’d rid myself of this arrogance when I started studying Japanese. My initial study was diligent and excessive. I’d have two Japanese classes a week and spend the rest of my time after work revising. Looking back now it was necessarily efficient studying, but in terms of time put in the hours were there. I believed I was working hard, which led to this arrogance in my abilities. An arrogance that was swiftly cut down whenever I met somebody better than me.

So, I always arrived at this juncture where I’d learn a new skill or hobby and wonder how to be confident in myself without comparing myself to others. I didn’t quite know how to praise myself for doing well at the gym or learning something new in Japanese without immediately comparing myself to others. It meant that I’d occasionally have these emotional highs when I achieved something only to be brought down to earth when I saw that somebody could do it better. I didn’t know how to make my achievements my own. The confidence I had was too fickle, it didn’t come from within and it often led to feeling superior to others based off of a single quantifier.

I was still uncomfortable with myself. I wanted outside validation which led to comparison, boasting and arrogance. I didn’t realise that I couldn’t get any of that from anyone else, it all had to come from within.

It’s taken me 14 years, but Onizuka finally made sense to me. I was watching the incredibly famous (in Japan) live action version of GTO one night, which turned into a nostalgia trip as all the episodes were almost identical to their anime equivalent. As I was watching I was wondering why I still hold this fictional character in such high regard, of all the powerful charismatic anime protagonists I watched in my teenage years, why does Onizuka persevere?

It’s because he’s kind of a dork.

(Get you a man that can do both)

Along with the confidence and strength that being a protagonist in a medium geared towards young boys affords you, Onizuka also has some very human flaws and vulnerabilities. The intense scenes like surprise renovating Nanako’s house or rescuing a whole bunch of kids from a gang are always juxtaposed with him being absolutely wayward in so many other aspects of life. He lives at the school because he can’t afford rent, he’s 26 and never had a girlfriend and his only friends are his students. We are always shown that his confidence isn’t intrinsically linked to how well his life is going, it’s just his feeling and determination in the moment. For all that bravado we see, we’re also shown the more human, relatable aspects. He’s amazing, brave and confident, but at the same time he’s still vulnerable and human.

Yet here’s the thing, I thought confidence meant a lack of vulnerability. I thought one couldn’t be both confident and vulnerable. This isn’t some segue into Boys Don’t Cry or a delve into masculinity. I didn’t believe that vulnerability wasn’t masculine, I just thought that vulnerability meant you had a long way to go before you were allowed to be confident.

(These lines go from bravado to insecurity in an instant, but I still think Tyler is confident as fuck)

I show what I feel to be the pretty vulnerable content on this blog. I write about my doubts and insecurities, the events that shaped me and the times in my life where I really felt at my lowest. I document the struggle I find myself in now, trying to carve something for myself and come to terms with the changes that keep happening around me. I don’t think anybody reading this would have an image of me as an outgoing, confident person. There’s rays of positivity sprinkled in occasionally but it’s generally content that I struggle to tell people in person.

Before starting this blog, I would have imagined that if I wanted to become this confident idealised version of myself, I’d need to erase any form of vulnerability. Delete the Instagram posts with moody lyrics, delete the couple shots and stop caring. I’d need to kill part of myself to become someone different. I couldn’t consciously accept that they were two signs of the same coin, even if I knew it in the back of my mind. The more I’ve been writing the better I’ve been feeling. These fears and insecurities being out in the open don’t make me any weaker, they actually feel like progress. My weaknesses will exist regardless of whether or not I tell people about them, my insecurities won’t disappear overnight. I’ll never be someone I’m not. What I can do is take these things that used to terrify me and put them out in the open. In my last piece I waxed on about making my words my own, by verbalising and bringing these thoughts into the open I feel like they become my own. They’re not completely stripped of power but they don’t hold the same sway over me that they once did.

So that leaves me with confidence. I can air my vulnerabilities and doubts but then where does my confidence come from? How do I then stop it from becoming arrogance?

Let me tell you about Charisma Man.

You know how when Superman goes back to Krypton he’s just a regular person, but on Earth he’s basically a God? Charisma Man is a joke (turned comic) about how Western Men often believe themselves to be Superman on Earth when they move to Japan. Why? You’re basically bombarded with compliments from the get-go. You get told your Japanese is amazing (when it’s not), that you’re so tall (when you’re short back home) and that you’re such a handsome man (when all experiences up until now have led you to believe the opposite). Thus, you create a kind of false confidence for yourself. Or do the people around you do it for you? You yourself haven’t changed but the people around you have, and they’re whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

(Honestly didn't know it was a comic, initially heard of it on a subreddit making fun of other expats in Japan)

Hell, maybe I am good looking? I studied Japanese for a year back home, maybe I am just really good at it? Maybe those people around me back home were just obnoxiously tall and mean. Maybe I am the shit. You begin to formulate this new identity for yourself. You are Charisma Man now. You’ll be making heaps of money, have girls on standby and be loved by everybody in no time.

Except that never happens.

The reality of Charisma Man isn’t so bright. You’re probably an English teacher living somewhere far away from the big city. Your apartment is probably small and old and your salary is half as much as you were making back home. Despite being told about how good your Japanese is, you still can’t turn on the TV and watch a program. You still can’t go to the bank and open an account with your bilingual Japanese friend. You’re still single and you’re probably getting fatter off convenience store fried chicken, if anything.

It’s fake confidence with no merit, built on nothing. You haven’t put yourself out there or done anything to earn that confidence so it always feels foreign to you. There isn’t some feat you perform or some hurdle you cross to get that kind of confidence. You’re not smashing walls with your sledgehammer or confronting your fears and growing. You just get fed compliments until your confidence balloon bursts.

I felt like I was Charisma Man for a hot minute. Separated from everyone I knew, out drinking every night, being complimented left right and centre. I kept trying and failing to keep my feet on the ground. Back then I thought it was new-found confidence, but I wasn’t really coming out of my shell; I was just being obnoxious. After long the facade faded and I realised I was the exact same Elliot I was back in Australia, just with less money and a nicer haircut.

I began to think about my experience. Why was I so confident? Why did it dissipate so quickly? Why was I not the only one that experienced this little phenomenon?

I came to the conclusion that confidence can come from many places. It can come from other people, but then it’s reliant on the praise of others. It’s shallow, fickle and bound to dissipate sooner rather than later. You’re constantly reliant on the praise of others to affirm who you are as a person, you can fool people into giving you praise but that goes away before you know it as well.

It’s a big enough of a struggle to understand yourself, it’s near impossible to understand strangers. Relying on such an unstable form of validation is essentially just inviting mental trauma in the long run.

On the other hand, confidence can also come from within.

After I distanced myself from all that charisma, I began to realise that I felt my best and my most confident when I actually put the work in. I started properly studying, eating well, and writing down my thoughts. It didn’t matter as much if people didn’t say anything, because I went to bed every night knowing that I put in enough work. Nobody said anything about the change, but I felt like I was becoming my own biggest supporter.

It’s both rewarding and daunting when you switch dopamine suppliers. I used past tense in those last few sentences because that particular fountain hasn’t been flowing so well lately. The flip side of not letting other people’s compliments fuel you anymore is that when you’re not doing right by yourself, that confidence tend to dry up pretty quickly.

[inkheart01]

The Crossover conundrum

Or the DOOM x EFTS crossover nobody but I was interested in

Alternative title: Someone builds a dimensional hole puncher and the first one thru is Doomguy

I'll edit when I have enough brainpower to make words do the pretty thing. Bonapitete. Enjoy. Here's my disaster. adios

The day started like any other, though Calle didn’t know whether to call it day, night, dawn or dusk, or everything and anything in between considering she was floating around in a giant warship in some sector of the galaxy that she had no possible way to pronounce. She took pride in knowing that she was the furthest human away from Earth. No, that was a lie. Last she had checked, Jade was on the other side of the ship. But still, the sentiment was valid.

A rough blow to her shin spurred the young woman out of her stupor. She whipped towards the culprit, who was buried half under a giant ring, deep in the guts of the mechanism. Calle didn’t know what it was and didn’t want to.

Jemma pushed herself out from the behemoth, signing for a helping hand before clambering back under, pale face stained with dirt and mousy hair slick from sweat.

Calle reached towards the nearby mess of supply’s, handing Jemma exactly what she had asked for.

Which meant that moments later, she had front row seats to watch as the girl channelled her inner high schooler and rocket out from under the ring, tossing the literal hand with all the strength and speed of a professional pitcher.

And then she came for Calle, going straight for the talkers ankles as she ran, laughing and crying in mad glee.

Almost lost in the cacophony of joy, the machine beeped loudly, once, twice, three times.

Then it screamed.

Bathing the room in a violent red glow, it sprung to life, gears and cogs churning as it wailed, beeping and flashing in a wild symphony of horror.

The two girls sprung to action, Calle slamming the button to the intercom, screaming over the chaos as Jemma lunged towards the beast, twisting knobs and levers in a mad attempt to silence it. Time seemed to drag on ph so slowly as the two battled against the towering ring, desperate to quell it before the ship tore in half from its quakes.

They almost missed the door shuddering open like a camera, an influx of children and aliens pouring into the room and into action.

Jade was still in her flight suit, and Calle briefly realised that she would have to apologise again. The self-proclaimed pilot never got to fly.

Ian raced to help Jemma with the controls alongside Rochelle and Hunter, the towering aliens orange complexion drowned out by the violent red.

The only one who seemed to sink deeper into the glow was Max, who, alongside Hayley and Bayley and Adam, took up defensive positions around the machine, guns drawn and ready for anything that emerged.

The rest, Calle, Jade, Eviee and Maeve rushed to tear into the machine but were forced back by another shudder.

Which meant that the whole of the Lazarus’ VIP crew had first-class access to the portal swirling with a sickening green, and a metal giant emerging.

Towering and frightening, the human emerged from the portal, shotgun at the ready and so impossibly imposing.

Clad in green armour, the man was a sight.

And then he charged. Far too fast for anything human, he barrelled past Jade, past Ian and Adam. Straight for the triplets standing guard.

Calle cried out a warning, unable to help as the siblings leapt aside, followed closely by the man.

And then, almost in slow motion, the door opened again, revealing the tiny shape of Emily, bathed in light. She stood with her bear clutched tight, eyes wide and searching. “Teddy?”

And the man froze, turning to the six-year-old in shock.

Taking the moment of opportunity, Max lunged, all 11feet and 4inches of alien crashing into the man like a freight train.

But the man was quicker, spinning out of the Rashikk’s way. But he didn’t account for the aliens head-tail.

Quick as a whip, the length shot forward, desperately trying to wrap around his armoured neck, but with little luck. And so Max lunged again, dodging the arm blade and pulling the man to the floor with a strength that anyone who had seen a Rashikk fight, would know was a mere fraction of their might.

And anyone who knew Max, also knew that he was just waiting for an opportunity to unleash hell.

And that presented itself in the armoured man on the floor, who, with startling strength, pushed the alien off and lunged for his Shotgun, the weapon having been knocked aside in the calamity.

But Adam was faster, nimble and quick, he scrabbled for the gun, tossing his rifle to Calle who easily slid into his place, gun aimed at the man and finger on the trigger. Adam slid under the man's arm, gun in hand as the warship lurched.

The armoured man slid, unaccustomed to Vivaane’s piloting, or the alarming nimbleness of the Lazarus, and Max took the opportunity to force the man's helmet off and knocking him out in the process.

Hours later, after the crews buzzing had died down, Captain Kalishnamara strode was not the medical wing, intent on finding out what the incident was this time.

But nothing could prepare her for what she saw when the doors opened.

Eight humans flitted around the room, Emily was perched on Max’s bed, bear in her lap as she laughed at her adopted father's antics. Eviee and Jemma, ever the scientists, were drilling into the half armoured man confined to the room, a dark robot at his side, translating. Jade, Rochelle and Ian were watching, transfixed as the Rashikk triplets tried and failed to beat Adams score for the fastest time to take apart and re-assemble a gun.

And then there was the Askiir, Maeve, the one she trusted the least, who was hovering nervously around Eviee. She had nothing against him personally, but when one gas the ability to manipulate emotions, there will always be a slight distrust, at least in her experience, Eviee seemed fine with the lanky bug.

Jade was the first to notice Kalishnamara and snapped to attention seconds before everyone else, bare the two newcomers, and Emily who was using the wrong hand, but no one held that against her, and if they did, the Lazarus fleet was always ready for a hunt.

“At ease. Alright, I’ll keep it simple. Someone’s already given me the incident report and I’ll get around to it when I have the patience”, Eviee made quick work of translating the Rashikk’s odd symphony of clicks and whistles that made up their spoken language. “All I want to know is if there is a body count”

“Not today”, Bayley answered cheekily, earning a laugh from those in the room that could understand, and leaving the last two to Waugh’s for Eviee translation.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way a little longer”, finally moving from the doorway, she stalked towards the newest members of her VIP crew, noting something peculiar in the way they communicated.

Leaning down as not to be overheard, she motioned to Jemma. “You both speak in the language of hands, yet you cannot understand each other without translations. Why is this?”. Though she was still not fluent in Jemma’s hand language, she understood enough of the basics to cobble together a sentence.

‘Different hand language. Different Home’

“I see. Thank you”. The captain rose to her full height, and the man glared, unknowingly annoyed at feeling oddly small not once, nor twice, but three times since coming through the portal. Was this what everyone else felt when he walked past?

Eviee dutifully translated the aliens oddly melodic language, a strange sound to come from creatures so adept at war.

“On behalf of the Crew and Residents, I welcome you aboard the Lazarus” the robot thanked her, introducing himself and the man. Flynn and Vega. Odd names, but who was she to judge. “I am Captain and Fleet Commander Kalishnamara. But you may call me Lisa. It is a nickname, as I am told.

“You will be regarded as VIP guests while aboard, much like everyone in this room. Please, referring from breaking any of my men why we try to get you home. Now, any questions?”

“Just one actually”, Vega spoke up, “how can you understand them?”

It took Lisa an embarrassingly long time to realise that the robot had been talking to Eviee, who was desperately hiding her laughter from the confused Captain. But still, she managed to pull her source up and reveal the thick golden band around her bicep. “Universal translator. It hurt like hell but is incredibly useful. The downside, both speaking parties have to have one to be able to communicate.”

Flynn turned to look towards Emily, who was squealing as Max and Rochelle bickered.

“What’s the diagnosis doc?”

“You want my diagnosis? Your gonna fuckin die!”

“Don’t worry about her”, Eviee waved off the giants concern. “She doesn’t have one. We’re working on an alternative”

At that same moment, Lisa turned towards Max. “I was told that no major injuries were sustained. Why are you in Ned at?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The beds are just comfortable”

Lisa sighed as she left the room, muttering about needing a drink. Followed by Jade, Calle, Ian and Adam, the rest of the Chaos club, two aliens, a robot and a confused mountain of a man and a six-year-old and her stuffed bear.

The day ended like any other, in that the Days without Incident board was wiped clean, five new reports were written up, and the crew was abuzz. The only new thing being that the armoury was now locked, indefinitely.

[apathycarestostudy]

Motivate me to get my butt in gear friend !! Uni opens again in a month !! Must finish syllabus before then !! Must stop reading fics and being in denial! Help! (P.S ily :p♡)

Hello hello love. Here are some tips I think will help, mixed in with a bit of nagging, wrapped up with some tough love!

So here we are. First, I’d like to commend you for recognizing that it’s time to get back on the hamster wheel so soon. You’ve a month left, which is ample enough. 

Don’t beat yourself up with time lost

You might be thinking you should’ve gotten up sooner, or done more, or done something some time ago. That doesn’t matter anymore. Yes, I’m an advocate of owning up to your faults, but for one second - recognize it, acknowledge it, and then move the hell on. Never mull on it unless it poses a problem and mulling on it would fix it. So stop all those thoughts - make a firm decision that you will drop all berating, toxic, or otherwise negative thoughts at the door. It won’t go away soon, you’ll need to keep stopping yourself mid-thought, but try to get it down. It’s a simple thing to start with, and I believe you can do this much. My mom always tells me, once someone apologizes, take their apology and leave it at that. The resentment won’t go away quickly, but release it. And I believe when you apologize to yourself, you should forgive yourself, and release.

So please release it.

The three Ps I just made up - paper, pen & plan (or phone, pad & plan)

I tried lmao. Phones be ruining everything. If you didn’t get it tho, by pad, I meant notepad or memo or whatever’s on phones these days. Specialized apps, all of it. It’s just that none of them started with a P and I -

Get your preferred medium of...recording stuff, and don’t make a plan. Yet. I want you to write down a list of things you need to get down before the month is up. A sentence per task. For example:

Get more connections on LinkedIn

Save up 20% of my allowance

Finish a writing commission

Finish a course I signed up for

(..........)

So something like that. One liners you need to finish up. And then don’t plan yet. After you’re done listing everything that needs to get done, you split the page in half (or just write it next to it in parentheses on your phone like this) and write “constraints”. Not emotional ones at first - try and write a logical constraint. Like for the course I signed up for, the logical constraint would be I have no time for it anymore because I got something better - an internship opportunity - and the emotional constraint would be I’m not interested in it anymore, or I don’t wanna lol. So write up some logical constraints. Is the workload a lot? Are you family members sending you off to do stuff for them and you have no choice but to do them and forsake your time? Do you not have an empty notebook to get started? These are all valid hurdles you may face.

Now, if you have some that have no constraints yet, write your emotional ones. You don’t want to. You’d rather do something else. Fanfiction. All of that. 

Look back at your list. What’s causing the emotional ones? How can you get rid of the logical ones? Remove them, run away from them, address them, or ignore them - pick one.

Now, plan.

Distractions

So when I feel like I should get up and do something, I’m learning to seize that feeling prematurely and do it. I say prematurely because you know when the thought matures, you’re gonna talk yourself out of it or dismiss it, so you gotta grab that as soon as it crosses your mind. How to stop doing what you’re doing immediately? Remove access to the distraction. And I don’t mean use those apps - although if it works for you, go on with your bad self. If not, do the old school method of throwing your phone to the roof of your cupboard. 

Yeah. I had this period of time where nothing stopped me from indulging in fanficion - not even deadlines and consequences, which are the biggest things that drive me to do stuff, and the only way I could get over it was to throw my phone over the cupboard. I gave myself a hurdle to stop me from pulling it back towards myself, and not only that, imagine the shame of getting a chair, dragging it all the way to the cupboard, climbing up on that thing, and then pulling your phone down - just squeezing lemon juice in your damn eye and living with that burn. So, put a hurdle up.

(cupboard = dresser btw, not sure which word y’all use so)

You don’t need a whole lot to get started

Going back to not having an empty notebook. There was a time I needed one to get started, but I didn’t want to go out and buy one, and so I kept putting off my work and blaming the fact that I don’t have a notebook. You don’t really need the notebook to get started. I could’ve easily pulled out my laptop and used One Note or MS Word or whatever if I really wanted to work. I mean I hate using digital stuff, but I could’ve sucked it up if I really didn’t want to go out and really wanted to work. The right answer was I really didn’t want to work, not the notebook.

Just start. Screw the notebook, screw your shitty pen, screw the messy table - just start. Shove all the mess to the edge and cram your arms in that tiny space and just start. You don’t need highlighters or a bottle of water or quiet time or the lights dimmed three notches down or your face moisturized or your plants watered - just start.

Not saying all of that is unnecessary, or wouldn’t help, but when it comes down to it, you don’t need all that to start. Don’t waste your time preparing to study or work. Just start.

Just start. Get your scrappy paper that’s 1/4 cut in a weird angle and just start.

One thing is better than nothing

I know I’ve said that a whole lot. A WHOLE LOT. But it’s true, and you truly need to take that to heart. If you’ve scratched one thing off your list, that’s good. 

But here’s what I’d do if I felt like I needed to do more.

First, seize that feeling. Next, do more. Start a little mantra of, “Just one more!” and do it like you’re taking one more cookie out the cookie jar. One more cupcake. One more chip. One more practice question. Romanticize it. Say it like you desperately want it, even if you don’t and do it. Oftentimes it’s the start that has us feeling some type of way, but once you accept what it is - as in you start eating it a little more quickly - you’ll sink into it and release that feeling. Next thing you know, you’ll find yourself done with one more thing.

Still tho, one thing today is one thing off your plate. Celebrate that, and promise you’ll do one more - at that moment or some other time.

Lesson from Naruto: give yourself a self-rule!

So there was this character in Naruto that was a total failure. He didn’t make it into the ninja academy, so he decided to give himself a self-rule: “If I run 500 laps, I’ll be accepted as an alternate.” which means he’ll be placed as a back up in case an already accepted student drops out. His father finds out, scolds him, and says that’s not a self-rule. That’s a wish. A self-rule doesn’t involve anyone else. A failure to accomplish what you say is accountable to you. Not circumstance, not anyone else. 

His father says, “Because of that [a self-rule on your self only], you are able to gather your strengths and focus on your efforts...That is how a self-rule works!” So how does the character change it? “If I can’t do 500 laps on my hands, I’ll do 500 push-ups!”

You see what I’m going for? 

I am not saying do 500 laps on your hands - this is a ninja anime we’re talking about here - I’m saying apply a self-rule that keeps you accountable and feeds into your efforts. Say, “If I can’t do ten practice questions, I’ll do ten rounds of this example question!” Give yourself an alternative you have to do if you fail your first attempt, and have it be of the same magnitude. What happens if you can’t do both? Keep adding on of course! The character would say, “If I can’t do 500 laps on my hands, I’ll do 500 push-ups! And if I can’t do 500 push-ups, I’ll do 500 sit-ups!”

Limitations exist, and you may not be able to get it the first few times, but eventually, the character manages to do 5000 laps - and he falls tiredly into his father’s waiting arms.

Just a little nice bonus I thought would be fun to add. I do something like this, but not as well thought out of course - I’d say something like, “I’ll do process design questions right now, and if I give up half-way, chemical separation processes is waiting for me.”

I thought I’d stop here because it’s getting kind of ramble-y and I think this’ll be enough of a push to get you started. Maybe not a push even - a nice little pat from your friend that’ll evolve into a push by your fine self. You can do it. Just start LOL.

I’mma end this with a positive note from that same episode of Naruto. Here’s a quote from that father to his son when he asked him why he was so chipper when he failed so much and couldn’t be “strong” (as in overcome the obstacles in his way). I see this in our lives, be it with friendships, biting your tongue when your boss yells at you, or giving up after failing a class.

“True victory isn’t about winning from someone strong. It’s about defending what’s important to you!”

[khhunniewriting]

The Others (13)

[ Mafia/Gang AU ]

Upon arriving at school Ji-hoon and Leo went their separate ways. They were from different classes, they're arriving together to school went unnoticed by Bewhy and Cjamm. It wasn’t until practice that Bewhy noticed the silence between his friends.

It was normal for Leo to be silent as he meticulously went about his day observing and listening to everything around him. But, unlike most days, there was a distant look in his eyes. A look that prompted Bewhy to the conclusion that there was something on his friend’s mind.

He had even missed a sure-shot without batting an eye. 

“Leo, you okay?”

There was no response, too lost in thought worrying about his mother to hear. 

Ji-hoon, who had remained silent all day to avoid the new habit he had picked up, turned his sights on them. He approached innocently only to ruin all his hard work. “Don’t worry about my little brother, he’s just- sh*t!” 

Effectively shaking Leo out of his thoughts and back to what was in front of him. “Not even one day Lee Ji-hoon.”

Ji-hoon tossed his ball angrily aside realizing what he had done. Leo’s tone was dark and menacing. Just last night they had bet on this. 

“I’m sorry it just slipped out alright!”

If Ji-hoon could resist the urge to call him such belittling titles for one day Leo agreed to allow Ji-hoon to use the nickname in private. On the other hand, should he fail, the nickname would be banned forever. 

Leo couldn’t help but feel he got screwed over either way. 

“What’s going on?” Cjamm ran over when he saw Bewhy bewilderedly standing between the two.

Bewhy shrugged unsure of how to describe the situation. He was still trying to process the fact that he heard Ji-hoon call Leo little brother. It had to be a mistake but the reaction of the counterpart was indicator enough that he had, in fact, heard correctly.

“I think Ji-hoon just called Leo something I can’t repeat.” The glare from Leo was enough to stop him.

“Hey you four over there!” The coach shouted across the gymnasium. “Lee Ji-hoon and Lee Leo, you two have been gone all this time and now you slack off on your first day back? Run laps until the end of practice!”

Leo said nothing and began running without complaint.

“Aw- come on coach!” Ji-hoon argued, he hated running most of all. This was the last thing he needed.

“If you don’t catch up to Lee Leo then you will be cleaning up alone after practice.”

That was enough for Ji-hoon to start running but immediately began to complain some more when he realized Leo would increase his speed at will to keep distance between them. “It’s impossible to catch up to him.”

Leo looked back over his shoulder to sharply retort him. “You should quit smoking then.”

Ji-hoon knew the difference between them was the quality of lungs but he couldn’t help it. Smoking started as a cry for attention and turned into a relaxation habit. 

In the end, Leo took mercy on Ji-hoon to avoid having to wait for him. Now that they had to go home together it would be inconvenient to have him cleaning the gym after hours while he waited. So Leo slowed down on the last lap allowing Ji-hoon to match his pace by the time coach dismissed everyone.

Of course they still had to deal with their friends.

“What’s up with you guys?” Cjamm who had not heard them earlier began to wonder more about them. He had thought it was strange that they were going home together before, they were becoming good friends so he wondered if they were becoming too close and leaving him out. “You go home together, you two were absent together, now you get punished together? Did you two skip school to have fun on your own? Bring me along next time.”

Perhaps Ji-hoon but Leo would never do that. Bewhy knew that wasn’t it. He knelt down beside Ji-hoon while Cjamm kept annoying Leo. Ji-hoon was vulnerable with his legs feeling like jelly now after the long run. “Are you two really brothers?”

Normally it could be overlooked as a friendly expression but the way he said it and the way Leo reacted proved otherwise. 

Ji-hoon sighed, “Fuck it.” They would find out way or another... besides, Ji-hoon couldn’t help it anymore. “Yeah, we’re brothers.”

“What?!” Cjamm may struggle with focusing in class but not now. He heard it loud and clear. “You two...?”

Leo nodded.

Having met both you and Dok2 meant Cjamm now had thoughts in his mind. The typical teenage boy thoughts that lead him to sulk about you being taken by a rich man. He sat down, his head hung low, “That’s not fair.” 

“What are you thinking?” Bewhy asked.

Leo glared at his shorter friend recalling very well his admission of desire for you. “What ARE you thinking Ryu Sung-min?” He already had a lot on his mind after interrupting his mother and father’s talk the day before. 

Your heart raced wondering if he meant those words the way they came out. “Why do you always make it sound like you care about me?”

This was Joonkyung’s chance to say it, to admit that he had feelings for you.

“Mom,” Leo knocked on your bedroom door. It was slightly open allowing him to hear the entirety of your conversation. 

He had been on his way to see you when he saw the maids quickly shuffling out of there. The last of them hadn’t the strength to completely close the heavy wooden door allowing enough of a gap for your voices to trickle out into the hallway.

Thankfully this allowed him to get a better idea of what he had been born into. He confirmed his father was indeed a corrupt man- he wasn’t all too sure if he was as heartless as you thought but for now, he knew he didn’t deserve you.

Dok2 snapped out of his thoughts taking a few steps back after realizing he had gotten ahold of your hand.

You cleared your throat before asking Leo to come in.

He noted the slight change in his father’s features. It was a start but he was far from being able to reclaim his mother.

Bewhy didn’t pry further into their personal lives and made sure to help Cjamm out of trouble by quickly getting him out of Leo’s sight. 

The brothers made their way slowly in no rush to go home. 

“Sorry but I think it’s fun to have a brother my age.” Ji-hoon was being candidly honest. “When my sister was born, the little attention my mother spared me was gone.”

“Your mother...what kind of person is she?”

Ji-hoon was shocked to have Leo ask about his personal life. “Well, she’s nothing like your mom.”

\\\

Jay Park waited anxiously for Hoody to arrive at the base. For the past few days, it seemed their target had disappeared. As soon as Hoody walked in Jay blurted out, “Did she go to work?”

Hoody shook her head. “The new manager wasn’t much help but I got word from one of the manicurists that they saw Y/N leaving with a man the last day she was at work.”

“A man?”

Hoody nodded, she wasn’t particularly worried about you. She was only curious to know how much longer she would have to keep that horrible job. “Hey boss, if she’s not working there anymore... can I quit?”

Jay thought for a moment. He was curious to know who you had left with. According to the information he had dug up on you, there were no relatives for you to rely on and no romantic interests. 

“May I suggest we go back to the kid?” Minsik finally spoke up after menacingly watching over the meeting between the two from the sidelines. “Hasn’t he always been the target, to begin with?”

“How do you know about this Minsik?”

\\\

You knew you had complained about not going to work, about being useless in a mansion full of staff that does everything for you. Voicing your concerns only to suggest that perhaps less people were needed and that you could maintain the home as you had done previously. You never expected Joonkyung to take it as an opportunity to bring you along with him.

His sudden change of character was questionable. First, he went off about how you betrayed and lied to him then he starts showing a semblance of emotion towards you.

You weren’t sure what to make of it.

Following him around all day only brought on more confusion as his people continued to give you wary glances. Ultimately you were uncomfortable sitting aside as they openly discussed their business. 

Dok2 took note of the glances, calling their attention back when they continued to get distracted.

You didn’t pay much attention to what was being discussed until you heard your son’s name. That’s when you started to hear exactly what Joonkyung was doing to keep him safe.

“For now we’ll continue to have Mr. Kwon, Ash, and Zene execute the school commute as usual. If we hear word from them about suspicious activity we’ll have some people ready to respond. Sik-k doesn’t follow AOMG’s rules.”

Beenzino nodded along knowing very well what kind of person Sik-k was based on the data. “Shouldn’t we give AOMG a heads up about their rogue agent?”

“They already know,” The Quiett pointed out. “Who do you think lets him run around like that?”

“Jay doesn’t care about the methods as long as there are results. That’s the kind of thinking that got him locked up for many years.”

Dok2 could see the gears in your head turning through your blank stare. There was something on your mind. “Y/N,” he called out to you causing you to look over at the three men. “Is something wrong?”

“That name sounds familiar.” You thought back to the spa when Hyunjung’s brother paid a visit. He had the same name but it couldn’t be him... Without realizing it you were already walking towards them. “Can I see a picture of the Jay you guys are talking about?”

Beenz immediately pulled up the picture causing your eyes to widen. 

“It’s him...” The tattoos were a dead giveaway but even without them, you could recognize that smirk of his. “This guy I’ve met him before at the spa. He’s the brother of one of our new employees- Kim Hyunjung.”

Beenz recognized the name from another of AOMG’s people. He pulled out Hoody’s picture putting it side by side with Jay’s. 

“That’s-”

“Kim Hyunjung aka Hoody- she works for AOMG and their leader is Jay Park.”

Now it was clear to you that you had indeed been in danger all along. You recalled all the times Hyunjung asked about your son. It sent a shiver down your spine to think how close they had gotten to you. It was obvious they intended to get close to you so they could go after Leo.

All you could think of was seeing Leo and making sure he was okay. 

Luckily Dok2 could sense your worry. He wrapped up his meeting and drove back home with you silently sitting in the passenger's seat. It was much earlier than usual but he figured it was best to assure you first rather than seek out Jay Park for answers. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Thanks,” you sighed finally breathing evenly. You didn’t know much about Joonkyung as Dok2 but you knew you could trust him after seeing the extent of their information on this group of people Hyunjung and Jay were a part of.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Dok2 wanted to get closer to you, to go back to the way things were. He intended to tell you all this the day before he was interrupted. “He’s my son too.”

“I never would have imagined you would care so much about my little Leo...”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me even after we met again at the mall?”

“No,” your response was quick- still unable to admit your jealousy. That feeling of being left behind after hearing he had gotten his wife pregnant still wrapped around your heart, clawing at it. Old wounds stung each time he tried digging them up. “Let’s not talk about that anymore.”

In reality, you were much more curious about the question that was left unanswered.

“My position doesn’t allow me to openly display my emotions- that doesn’t mean I don’t have them. Otherwise, I never would have managed to have a second son.” Dok2 was burdened by his responsibility to Illionaire. He had to make calculated decisions to keep everyone safe from harm and the law. Even now he was risking so much by acknowledging his second son and keeping you close. 

To those in the business, his intentions were clear. By taking you two into his home he had already claimed you as someone he cared about. He added two more weaknesses to be exploited by his enemies. 

You sighed, “Stop making it sound like you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

You turned to him utterly shocked to have heard him confess in such a matter of fact way. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Dok2 tried to keep calm under your scrutiny but in reality, he was going crazy reprimanding himself internally for saying it at all.

“I just- I can’t believe it.” For years you hoped to hear those words. “I don’t understand you at all Joonkyung. Why would you suddenly fall in love with me now? Is it only because of Leo? Are you worried I’ll run away with him once you settle things with AOMG? Or are you trying to get Leo to like you by using me?” You tightly held onto the seatbelt bracing yourself for disappointment.

“You are much more paranoid than I am.” Dok2 chuckled, he knew it wasn’t appropriate for the situation but it was impossible to hide his amusement. Had he been so cruel to you? Enough for you to believe he would use you to gain favor with Leo. “I loved you before Leo was born, before you left, before you even realized your own feelings for me I knew what my feelings for you...” 

But he never dared to voice them.

He was concerned by the repercussions.

The car grew silent once more as you both processed the situation. You didn’t speak up until you were at the gates waiting for them to open and let you in. 

“Then why didn’t you tell me before?” It would have made a world of a difference if he had spoken these words to you back then. 

Dok2′s heart stilled greeted by the sight of Kylie propped against her car waiting with arm’s crossed. “Because of her.”

-end-

A/N: DRAMA coming up next! Also sorry if it got creepy for a bit with the whole cjamm scene lol. 

[gastricpierrot]

Title: Heartbeat

Series: Promare

Pairing: GaloLio

Rating: T

Summary:

Lio turns himself in after the final battle, the start of a new life he must get used to.

This is a story of how Lio Fotia navigates through the days that follow, learns that support comes in more forms than he’s ever familiar with, and deals with his alarmingly developing feelings for Galo Thymos.

Also on AO3

[Prologue][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5]

[Chapter 6]

Lio’s new roommates are pretty normal upon a first impression.

Gueira and Meis are assigned to different rooms as well; perhaps it is done on purpose to encourage them to mingle around with others. At any rate, Lio’s not too bothered. As long as he’s staying with people who know how to respect boundaries and keep their mess to themselves, he’s got no complaints.

The enrollment day of fire training isn’t too eventful. They're made to sit through hours of briefings once they report in and leave their belongings in their rooms, they’re given tours across the facility. It doesn’t take long for the excited faces around Lio to slowly dim as boredom and exhaustion set in. Lio finds himself stifling some yawns of his own and suppressing a growing tinge of annoyance. The main instructor in charge of their orientation is trying too hard, speaking too loud, and being too obnoxious. There really isn’t a need to project such a forced image of toughness just to convince them that their regimen would be grueling; Lio’s sure everyone who’s signed up and passed the physical screenings are fully aware of what they’re getting themselves into.

He diligently sits through the entire program nonetheless, even making sure to take notes when necessary. Their daily schedule begins at six in the morning and ends at five in the evening. Classes are interspersed between physical training, lessons consisting of the basics and the theoretical sides of firefighting and rescue work. Trainees are allowed to eventually choose from a handful of electives as well, mainly on mission strategy, Gear piloting, and equipment maintenance. Their eligibility to choose between streams are dependent on their scores for each screening test segment.

Lio didn’t struggle too much on the written exams—those lessons during his detention did end up helping him—but he must admit to have ran into some troubles during the physical ones. He’s a bit stiffer compared to a few years back, his reaction time seems to be slightly slower than he remembers. His muscle strength and endurance seem to have improved from all the time spent doing community service, though, but Lio personally isn’t happy with how he can’t seem to pull off more explosive movements like he used to easily.  

It frustrates him, not being able to move the way he did when he’s just a little younger. It makes him wonder just how much had he depended on the Promare, and how much of his abilities then had been his own prowess.

He forces himself not to think too much about it. All he has to do is train harder if he’s that unsatisfied with his physical capabilities. He no longer has the luxury of moping around.

Lio’s enrolled into the FDPP’s academy under special circumstances, with the help of Galo and his team captain vouching for him. His expenses are covered through a grant—a scholarship of sorts. Everything he needs while training is supplied to him free of charge as long as he meets the performance standards expected of him. He's to take up extra lessons to earn his driver’s license on Sundays, the only full free day given to trainees. Lio knows he wouldn’t have the time and energy to think of unnecessary matters.

His day ends with a simple meal with his brothers at the dorm cafeteria. Gueira and Meis offer to keep him company for just a while longer, but Lio’s had enough social interaction for the day. He itches for a shower, eager to finally catch his breath and settle down to the music of a rhythm game.

Until he remembers he’s not with his usual source of music. And he still doesn’t own a phone yet.

Lio spends his entire time in the shower stall wondering how he should pass the night.

When he returns to his room later, the atmosphere there is...odd, to say the least. All three of his roommates are there, seemingly have been talking fervently among themselves when Lio enters. They stare at him intently, and he stares back, raising an eyebrow in question.

Two of them then turn away to exchange gazes among themselves, and they leave the room without another word. Lio doesn’t pay mind to any of it, stepping aside to make way. They're not the first ones who gradually recognized who he is and stared. Lio’s already ignored a dozen frowns directed at him from the older trainees and even some of the instructors. People are going to judge his decision based on his past as a Burnish, it can’t be helped. What's important that he himself maintains a clear grasp of his own goals and motivations.

“You’re the Burnish leader, Lio Fotia.”

Lio regards his remaining roommate, a boy several years younger than himself. What he senses from him isn’t the animosity he’s used to dealing with whenever someone remembers who he used to be, but rather a buzz of...excitement? Lio can no longer see where this conversation would go.

“I was,” he answers evenly, confusion growing when the boy looks at him even more starry-eyed.

“I knew it!! I thought you looked familiar when I saw you this morning!” his roommate hypes, and at this point Lio’s thought process has completely crashed. The boy then extends his hand towards him, face red. “I really!! Admire you!!”

Now this is really not within expectations.

“I’m?? Honored??” Lio hesitantly shakes, half wondering if this kid has somehow jumbled up his figures of admiration. “But can I ask, whatever for?”

His roommate retracts his hand and cradles it close, looking like he’s decided he’s never going to wash it ever again. “Um?? I just think you’re really cool!!! Fighting for your people like that!!” He then seems to abruptly notice his own intensity and grows embarrassed, averting his gaze and rubbing his nose with the joint of his finger.

“Sorry, I was still kinda young when I read about you on the news so maybe I’m still influenced by my past naivety,” he says, sullen before he perks up again. “But I still think you’re amazing, though!! Especially when you turned yourself in, my respect for you really skyrocketed when that happened!”

“It’s honestly nothing to be admired for,” Lio protests weakly, also getting sheepish as the conversation progresses. He's truly not used to receiving such genuine sentiments from strangers, much less from someone who wasn’t once Burnish themselves. “It was just something I thought I had to do.”

“It’s because you were willing to take responsibility that I’m so impressed!” His roommate insists. “You owned up even though the things you’ve done have been largely circumstantial. And that’s right after you saved the world! That must’ve taken a lot of pride and courage.”

“It really wasn’t—” Lio begins but is immediately cut off with a louder “It is!!! Incredible in my eyes!! Please at the very least accept my appreciation!!”

And what else can he do other than try not to get even more flustered and mutter a thank you? He really is too helpless in the face of people who aggressively throw praises at him like this.

“And another thing!!” The boy continues, and holy heck this kid is even more of a hurricane than Galo, Lio couldn’t help but think as he only blinks and lets himself be swept away by the flow. “How close are you to Galo Thymos??”

This, though, Lio’s expected to hear at least once while he’s here. Galo’s the super rookie of his team when he first started, the hero of Promepolis within a mere few years of being in service. With the sheer amount of merchandise Lio has stumbled upon while he wandered the streets and peeked into shops, he doesn’t doubt there’s at least one person in fire training who looks up to him. He's basically the local celebrity!

“We’re friends,” Lio answers, not one to reveal more unnecessary information that may cause troublesome misunderstandings. He figures if he mentions about being housemates with Galo for a bit the poor guy would lose his mind.

Sure enough, just knowing that they’re still in contact with each other almost sends his roommate into a fit. He makes an odd noise at the back of his throat, face growing redder with excitement.

“What kind!! Of a person is he???”

And for a moment, Lio’s stumped. It’s not a question he can answer as offhandedly as before. Galo...isn’t someone who could be summarized within a handful of words. Lio is certain that he’s yet to see many more sides of him; parts of him he may like, parts of him he may not. There’s still so much more to know, so much more to learn about.

“He’s as you see him on TV.” Lio makes his way to the bottom bunk he’d called dips on, taking a seat at the edge of his mattress. “Loud, obnoxious. Confident.”

He doesn’t notice how his tone softens as he goes on.

“He’s dumb, but not stupid. He's got an annoying habit of butting into people’s business, always trying to help even when it’s got nothing to do with him.”

He’s selfless, ambitious. He’s a nerd for his interests. He cooks well and keeps his home surprisingly tidy. He eats too much pizza for his own good. He’s too reckless for his own good.

“You seem really fond of him,” Lio’s told in the end. His roommate seems bemused, like he realized he’s accidentally stumbled upon something a bit too private. Lio ponders over his words for a moment. Well, yeah. He is fond of him. Otherwise he wouldn’t spend quite so much time with him, now would he?

“He’s been really good to me,” Lio says, hugging his elbows. “I hope to make it all up to him one day.”

“I’m sure you will!” His roommate assures, and he only smiles slightly in response.

“I’ll do my best.”

They engage in a little more small talk before Lio excuses himself, climbing on fully onto his bed and pulling the curtains shut. He lies on his side, pillow in his arms. Breathe in deeply, then out. Over and over.

He didn’t think he still remembers how to feel homesick.

xXx

The hardest part about fire training is arguably having to wake up at five in the morning to compete for the washrooms and shove breakfast down his throat within an hour.

Apart from that, though? Lio would say he’s doing pretty good. Physical training is tough, but he doesn’t think it’d kill him. He's used to physically demanding construction work, being almost constantly at it for five years. His current regimen might make use of completely different sets of muscles, but Lio’s long learnt to pace himself well and to avoid thinking of doing things like it’s a competition.

Most trainees seem to have been athletes as far as he can tell, all having the physiques one would expect to need for fire training. This also means that the younger ones in particular, are keen on showing off to one another throughout the first few days. Rivalries are declared and coarse encouragements are exchanged, and Lio can’t help marveling at how carefree youths could be, to treat job training like it’s some sort of social activity. They'll be stuck together for the next three months or so; he supposes it probably is worth building rapport among each other for the long term.

Speaking of rapport, Lio discovers the reason why his two other roommates left the room after a single look at him the night before. It turns out that they were trying to decide if Lio really is the Mad Burnish Lio, and upon finding out that he is and that the remaining guy is a huge fan, they just didn’t bother staying behind to watch him fanboy. It’s truly something Lio could never have imagined, but it’s nice to know that not every non-Burnish who recognizes him hates his guts. As insignificant as it is, it makes his chest feel just a little lighter.

Lio’s first week passes in a flurry of activities, each so new and energy-consuming that he could hardly stay upright at the end of each day. It’s almost impossible to muster enough focus to go over the textbook materials they’ll be quizzed on when he is uncomfortably aware of every muscle on his body and they are all aching. Lio has to admit that he does grow a little discouraged especially when the nightly headaches begin—until he remembers that even Galo has managed to pass the same program.

Now he definitely can’t lose. Even if it means developing a coffee addiction along with Meis and Gueira.

Sunday eventually rolls around, and Lio finishes his first driving lesson without a hitch. It’s just an online course about road rules and other such theoretical information regarding driving, held within the training facility’s computer lab over three hours. Lio’s supposed to revise the course contents over the week and pass the exam next Sunday if he wants to progress to the hands-on part of the lessons. He's not too worried about either; traffic rules seem straightforward enough to remember and he’s familiar with riding a motorcycle. He might be a little rusty after having not used his beloved Detroit for so long, but he’s confident he won’t fail. Mostly.

At any rate, that’s for future him to worry about. Present him exits the room with a slight, subconscious bounce in his steps, glad that his week is finally over. His heartbeat quickens just a little from anticipation as he heads toward the gates.

He hears the ruckus before he sees it. Galo’s standing to one side of the facility entrance, and he’s currently surrounded by a small group of excited firefighter trainees asking for autographs and training tips. He glances up just as Lio approaches, and his grin widens the moment he spots him.

“Sorry, you guys—I'll have to be going now!” he announces with an apologetic laugh. The trainees around him are fortunately understanding enough to instantly give him space, though they do give Lio strange looks when they realize he’s the one Galo’s been waiting for. The only one who speaks up is Lio’s roommate who also happens to be there, cheerfully telling him to have a great time and to be safe while he’s outside.

“Lio, you’ve made a friend!” Galo observes excitedly once they walk a bit further off to look for a place to eat. Lio wonders if it really is something that warrants that much disbelief in his voice.

“He’s my roommate,” he says, the corners of his lips curling upwards, nonetheless. “Kid’s pretty nice.”

“Look at you already going around getting along with people!!” Galo swings an arm across Lio’s shoulders in his enthusiasm. “You need to tell me everything that’s been going on while you were gone!!”

Lio’s now used to this sort of contact with him, their close proximity a comfort he realizes he misses just lately. He lets himself indulge in the moment for bit before protesting halfheartedly. “Galo, it��s hard to walk like this.”

“Right, right.” Galo withdraws his arm, and Lio bites back a wince when cold air immediately fills his absence. “Sorry, it just feels like I haven’t seen you in a while?”

“It’s only been a week,” Lio reminds him, though he can’t say he doesn’t understand. It’s only been a week, yet the sleepy mornings and quiet nights and soft “welcome home”s and “I’m home”s already feel so far gone. It feels like Lio hasn’t heard the jingle of Galo’s mobile game in forever, hasn’t humored Galo’s unpredictable energy spikes in a long while. His days have never felt quite complete ever since he left the apartment.

His days have never felt quite complete without Galo in them.

They keep up their idle chatter all the way until they find an eatery they both fancy. Lio waits until they’re seated and have made their orders before he continues sharing about the shenanigans he’s witnessed during fire training, the friendly rivalries going all around, the one time Gueira ingested so much coffee to study for a surprise quiz that he was out of it for the next day and a half. Galo’s a great listener as always, knowing well where and how to react, never shy about sharing his own anecdotes of mischief he’s seen and participated in back when he was training himself. It’s been quite a number of years since Galo attended the academy, yet so many things seem to remain unchanged. The system, the course contents, the facilities—and the trainee behaviors most of all.

Lio finds it all strangely fascinating.

“But all that aside,” Galo takes a sip of his melon soda, “I think you really are amazing, Lio.”

Lio doesn’t think he’ll ever be used to this compliment coming from Galo in particular. “What’s with that again, all of the sudden?”

“No, it’s just that it’s been on my mind for a while and—” Galo fiddles with his fingers, pausing a split second to gather his thoughts— “You’re already doing so well even though you looked so lost just a little more than a month ago! I’m just really glad that you seem to have found a goal again.”

“And who do you think helped me the most to get where I am now?” Lio places his elbow on the table and rests his chin against his palm, a lopsided smile across his lips as he gazes at Galo. “You’ll always be the most amazing one in my eyes, Galo. People look up to you, people strive to be like you. You stay true to yourself no matter what you face.”

And I’ve always thought that someone like me will never be worthy of staying by your side.

Galo frowns the moment he catches the words Lio muttered last, ready to argue when Lio speaks first.

“But I don’t want to give up,” he declares, adjusting his posture to sit a little straighter, a little prouder. “I’ll catch up to you soon enough.”

And at that, Galo grins, eyes bright. “I’ll be looking forward to that, then!”

Then as his elation fades, he seems to suddenly recall something. There’s a sly lilt to his voice when he speaks again. “Though, aren’t you being the romantic one this time, Lio?”

Lio gets the reference soon enough, and tilts his head in feigned innocence. “Why? Did it sound like a romantic confession?”

“Well, yeaaah.” Galo crosses his arms and squints, familiar enough with Lio by now to recognize certain signs indicating his verbal traps. “Kinda.”

Lio, on the other hand, isn’t nearly as bothered. “Good. I suppose it is one.”

...

“Huh?”

Lio remains calm, mostly because his brain hasn’t exactly caught up to his mouth just yet in the heat of the moment. He watches Galo’s reaction in fond amusement, heart beating just a tad faster as the words tumble out on their own, unrestrained as though freed by the realization that has finally dawned him.

“I’m in love with you, Galo.”

[eldunea]

So You Want To Run Through Preuzien?

i’ve received a fair few messages from people interested in having their muses go through prussia, with one person even being interested in making a preuzien OC, so i thought i’d do this post setting up some necessary boundaries and limitations for any character who intends to challenge the prussian league and make a name for themselves in my fakémon region. this applies primarily to muses who wish to start their prussia arcs before lotor became champion, although some of these points still apply to a certain extent even after he won the position.

without further ado…here we go. >:3

[TW: Mentions of death, animal abuse and human abuse. If these topics trigger you, do NOT have your muse do a run through pre-Lotor Preuzien.]

First Things First: Your Muse Probably Won’t Be Champion Anytime Soon

i’ll be blunt. unless your character 1) is willing to kill lotor and all of his pokémon, most of whom are sapient, 2) is willing to risk their life and the lives of all their partners in the championship battle, and 3) can also singlehandedly defeat a five-core complete forme/ragnamax zygarde that has world-ending capabilities and is comparable in power to eternamax eternatus, they don’t stand a chance. for #1 and #2, though lotor has dismantled most aspects of the fight to kill clause, he still keeps the part that says all official championship battles must be fought to the death. he does this as a deterrent to challengers--and he is not afraid to slaughter his opponents in their moments of hesitance should they express any reluctance to kill. and while he doesn’t own ragnamax zygarde, he has definitely single-handedly defeated it, as it’s how he became champion in the first place.

i want to make it clear that this doesn’t mean he’s unbeatable in every scenario. he can still be defeated in a less high-stakes setting where he isn’t allowed to kill or cripple his opponents, or destroy everything around him in a 5-mile radius. one of his big weaknesses is that ever since his championship battle in kalos against diantha he’s gotten real rusty in traditional 6v6 style battling; this is because he has spent all his time perfecting the prussian style of battle, and because if any criminals are stupidly polite enough to do a traditional 6v6 against him, his unprincipled bitch self will just bring out his entire team to gangbeat their ass. but in an all-out campaign match where he gets to use deadly force and unleash the full apocalyptic extent of his pokémons’ power, he is not going to lose to any muse who 1) is not as fully psychologically ready to shed blood as he is, 2) is not psychologically able to handle seeing their pokémon get killed or the mere thought of their pokémon being killed, OR 3) could not also pull off what he did. that is a FACT.

i do hc that lotor stops being champion eventually, but i haven’t figured out when would be a good time for lotor to lose his spot, or even whether i’d want him to lose it rather than stepping down. there are many different possibilities that can be explored and i may make different verses for them, such as the possibility that he loses/steps down from the championship some time in the near future (5 - 10 years) when he feels that his work is done/feels the pressure is too much, or the possibility that he feels his work will take literal decades and he steps down as an old man once he is satisfied that the region has finally reformed. if you are interested in lotor’s championship spot though, please know that as of writing this, i am IFFY about any plot where a muse defeats lotor and then returns prussia to its original ways. this is because despite my love of “ow the edge,” as the creator of preuzien i do want to write a happier ending for a region whose people have seen nothing but suffering. if this does end up happening, it will have to happen in a separate verse.

Be Prepared for a Long and Potentially Traumatizing Haul

the prussian league is a thirty-six-badge-long, MULTI-YEAR ordeal. there is no way around that. i hc other leagues usually take about a year to complete. the prussian league, on the other hand, takes a MINIMUM of 4 years to finish for trainers who start their journeys in preuzien, 3.5 years for trainers who have already entered the hall of fame for a foreign league, and 2.5 years for trainers who have entered the hall of fame in more than one foreign league. for some perspective on its difficulty--lotor, the guy with the 200+ IQ who beat ragnamax zygarde and stopped ragnarök during his championship battle, STILL took multiple years to complete his league challenge. can your muse clear the league in, say, half a year or a year less than the time it normally takes? yes, but i will be selective about who gets to have that honor. please don’t be “that person” and say “well my muse is capable of doing it in less than a year”--no. they can’t. why? because i said so.

another thing to note about the prussian league is its difficulty. this is part of why it takes such a long time for any trainer to get through preuzien: your muse will not have an easy time going through it, NO MATTER WHAT. yes, even if your muse has legendaries…joke’s on them, preuzien’s entire culture is geared toward beating the shit out of legendaries, and i daresay they’re damn good at it. yes, even if your muse is “really, really strong”…everyone in preuzien is also really, really strong, and not to mention, strength in preuzien is different from strength in most of the pokémon world because historically, the prussian league has put its trainers through situations--both on and off the field--approximating WAR. again, for perspective: lotor has one of the highest IQs on planet pokéarth and literally saved the world from the previous deity champion, and preuzien still had times when it PUSHED HIM PAST HIS LIMIT. so if you state that your muse is somehow able to just breeze through every gym and the national tournament like it’s nothing, that’s something i’m going to have a real hard time believing.

as to the trauma part of this section, prussia is a much friendlier place now that lotor is champion…provided you’re not an abuser or a member of a corrupt ruling class. but if your muse is entering the league pre-lotor’s championship, when the region was still under the rule of wilhelmine von hohenzollern, your muse WILL suffer some sort of trauma. there is also no way around that. if they started in preuzien, they would have started in mandatory trainers’ school, where they would have been both physically and emotionally abused by their teachers. the only ways to avoid this abuse are to 1) be a junker’s child whose parents are the rare prussian unicorns that do not support child-beating or 2) become a total kissup to the teachers and other authority figures of the school, screwing over your fellow students to save yourself, and i doubt most peoples’ muses would want to do that. if they started outside the region and came in…they still have the below section to deal with.

Your Muse Will Lose Pokémon

this is no longer a guaranteed if your muse is joining the prussian league under lotor’s rule. but in the time of wilhelmine, under the fight to kill clause, you may be ordered to kill your opponent and their pokémon for the entertainment of the crowd. and you can’t back out from this either, because if you do, you will be publicly executed for failing to provide the audience entertainment. this aspect of the fight to kill clause is no longer in effect, but when it was, it was responsible for so many young peoples’ deaths that the region’s age dependency ratio went completely out of whack. what’s more, the fight to kill clause also states that gym leaders can choose whether they wish to kill you without warning and/or your pokémon at any point during their matches, which only adds to the danger. in a region where the league literally requires you to fight for your life, it is NEARLY INCONCEIVABLE that anyone could get through this without losing at least one of their trusted partners. there is only one person in the entire history of wilhelmine prussia who managed to go through all the gyms and the prussian national tournament without losing a single one of their pokémon (and his name, by the way, is not lotor). i am going to keep it that way.

what’s more, if the brutality of the battles don’t get to you, the lack of healthcare will. preuzien in its pre-lotor days was infamous for the shortage of both human and pokémon healthcare that plagued its system. healthcare was only guaranteed to junkers, the military, and those who are deemed “victors,” aka those who fought long and hard enough to get the government’s attention and be seen as worthy. for the rest, they have to struggle through long and potentially life-ending lines at pokémon centers and doctors’ offices, all of which come from the fact that preuzien glorifies pokémon training and militarism to the point that almost every other profession is suffering a shortage in professionals and that includes healthcare. even if we go with the fanon that nurse joys are always in abundance because they’re actually ditto spawn that can be mass-produced, preuzien would deliberately make it so that there’s a lack of healthcare so they could force people to kill each other over who gets treated. so yeah. under wilhelmine, this is a region in which losing at least one pokémon is a 99.99999% certainty.

Your Muse is More Likely to Fail than Succeed

i’m gonna be straight up right now: i won’t let more than a handful of muses succeed in winning the prussian national tournament--at least, in proportion to the rest who fail. why? because if i as preuzien’s creator let too many people have a successful run through prussia, the difficulty of the league will lose its meaning. it’s not “the hardest league in the world” if every muse and their mother is capable of receiving all 18 type specialist badges, receiving all 18 other strategic badges, and clearing all four stages of the 256-person prussian national tournament. by having too many muses being able to achieve this extraordinarily difficult feat, it cheapens the accomplishment of the few who did. i might be more lenient on this for muses that enter the league after wilhelmine is deposed, seeing as the fight to kill clause is abolished and that explains a big chunk of the prussian league’s difficulty. but even so, given the unique demands that prussian-style battling foists on its trainers, they’ll be hard pressed to rise to the challenge--especially if they were not raised like most prussian trainers are to take it on.

if you want your muse to succeed, i will be tough about this. i will play devil’s advocate and come up with every single possible way in which your muse could fail, whether psychologically or strategically. even the best strategists which basically every muse seems to be can crumble and be broken by a league specifically designed to mentally shatter its participants in order to “weed out the weak.” and even the strongest-willed people which basically every muse also seems to be may lack the particular intelligence needed to handle strategic situations that require one to think less like a trainer and more like a MILITARY COMMANDER. this applies mainly to wilhelmine’s preuzien, because her league is brutal on a scale that is unseen anywhere else in the world and what’s more, it’s not afraid to play dirty. if doing a run when lotor is champion i will be less exacting, but i still want to keep the success to failure ratio low. please don’t take it personally when i start grilling like it’s a BBQ--i just want to be realistic and a hardliner about whether your muse really has what it takes. like the officials of the prussian league itself, i want to make sure that ONLY THE BEST OF THE BEST make it through. 

i will, however, say this: just because your muse fails to get to/through the prussian national tournament, doesn’t mean it’s the end for them. they could join tournaments for the badge level at which your muse stopped, or join the coordinating scene that has gained new life under lotor’s leadership. they could move on to another region and enjoy their newfound capacity to beat the shit out of almost everyone they come across, because sometimes even the people who fail in preuzien are leaps and bounds stronger than those who succeed outside it. or they could divert their efforts from trying to climb to the top, thank their lucky stars that they still have their mental health mostly intact, and start taking care of pokémon who were abused by the system. there’s still plenty to do after an unsuccessful prussian run--your character’s story will not necessarily end there, and even in prussia’s darkest days, it would not necessarily end in disaster. to sum it up, failure to complete the league is still a plot point that you may find worth exploring.

in closing, i would like to say: your muse will have it extremely rough going through prussia but honestly…the struggle is half the fun of writing it. >:3

[getbacktoworknovice]

Blog Bois; Intro

[Hey guys~! I wrote up this little intro for my bois so y’all could get to know them and get an idea of what the’re like~ They also live on this blog so if you want to ask them anything or learn about them all you have to do is ask~ I hope you all like them~]

Jack had his tongue poked out in concentration, wanting to make sure he had the mixture nice and even as he poured it into the pan. Next to casseroles and curry, cakes were his favorite thing to make in the kitchen. He made them from scratch and he was always trying something new with the icing and presentation, especially when it came to his cake decorating classes, but today he was keeping it simple as he was just baking for his roommates. 

One of them, his cousin Aiden, had left about an hour ago, wanting to take some pictures of the rainfall as it was pouring outside. Jack had gotten him a waterproof case for his phone as a present as Aiden had spent so much money replacing screens and headphone jacks. It had been a very good investment. 

As if on cue, Aiden came in the back door, shaking the rain out of his hair though it wasn’t helping at all. He was soaked. Jack blinked curiously at his cousin as the man hung his jacket on one of the hooks they’d hung by the backdoor and came over to sit at the bar-style breakfast nook they used as a table, setting his camera bag on top. 

"You know that jacket has a hood right? " Jack asked him curiously as Aiden dug out his camera. The reddish brown-haired man looked up at him like he had no idea why that would matter.

“I like the way the rain feels,” He said, beckoning his younger cousin over. “Come, come, look at the pictures I took.” He insisted, wanting to share. Jack shook his head with a smile, hopping over to take a peek at his pictures. 

“I thought you were going to use your phone?” Jack asked as Aiden cycled through the pictures, showing him the ones he had taken of the cloudy, rainy outdoors. 

“I did at first but I swapped them because my camera doesn't take as good of a picture.” He said. Once Aiden had finished showing him the pictures he looked up and finally seemed to realize that jack was in the middle of something. “Oh, what are you making?” He asked curiously as Jack seemed to realize that he hadn't finished his cake yet. 

“Oh!” He said scurrying back over to the pan. “I’m making a red velvet cake for dessert tonight, I’m making chicken caesar wraps for dinner since it's Wednesday.” He explained and Aiden groaned, putting his camera back in its bag. 

“Ugh, I wish it was Saturday, I hate waiting for his cheat day to have something fried.” He admitted, resting his cheek in his hand. Vincent, the third roommate who had been friends with Aiden since high school, followed a pretty strict regiment with his workout and was very serious about his physical health. The man was a machine. Since Jack was in charge of the kitchen he had wanted to make meals that everyone could enjoy instead of Vincent having to buy and prepare his own meals separately. So they had all agreed to follow his eating habits as they were better for them anyway.

But boy did Aiden miss his fried foods. 

“That's what the cake is for,” Jack assured him as he put it in the oven, switching on the oven light to keep an eye on it as the oven had already preheated and then moved to prepare dinner. Aiden got up and both stopped in their movements when they heard a thumping from upstairs. 

“Ah speak of the devil,” Aiden said as Jack giggled. Since it was raining outside Vincent had to do his workout routine inside. He never went to a gym and did all his exercises and activities at home or at work. So instead of going for a run, he was up in his room running in place. It made a lot of noise. “I’ll go tell him dinners being made.’ Aiden offered, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading towards the stairs.

The townhouse they all shared was cozy with a lot of personal touches from all of them making the place really feel like home. Aiden had some of his favorite photos on display next to posters of cute anime girls that Jack liked and artwork that Vincent had done. Vincent had insisted on just tossing them in the trash but Jack had framed them so he felt like they had to stay. 

The bookshelves they had were littered with books of all types. Photography books, cookbooks, workout books, fashion, and art books for various movies and games. Cups of random things like pens and pencils and measuring cups were here and there as well as a few snowglobes from Aidens collection. Aprons and workout gear were scattered around the living room as well as jackets and clothes and shoes. 

Aiden knew they needed to clean up soon and he was waiting for a day they were all off as he made them both help him clean. Aiden was the most organized and responsible of the three so he handled pretty much everything in terms of running the house. The budget, the cleaning, the reorganizing, and disinfecting that was all on him. Vincent and Jack weren’t lazy by any means just busy, well jack more so than Vincent. 

Jack was a culinary student at the local college where Aiden used to go and Vincent...well, Vincent was a different story. Aiden knocked on his door, hearing the running in place stop as he poked his head in. 

Vincent was stretching his arms when he looked over at him. “Sorry, rains got me a bit stir crazy.” He said, thinking he had come to get on his case about the noise he was making. Aiden shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Nothing to apologize for just wanted to let you know Jack’s making chicken caesar wraps for dinner.” He explained as Vincent stretched out his back. Aiden heard a very loud pop. 

“Oh cool, those are always good,” He said sitting down to stretch his legs. “Reminds me I need to go to the store and get some more salad, we’re almost out.” He said and Aiden nodded. 

“I put it on the list.” He said, giving Vincent a curious yet knowing look. “How was work?” He asked and Vincent only gave him a look in response. Currently, Vincent worked at a warehouse that manufactured car parts and he was the youngest of all the workers. The work wasn't bad but because he was young he got a lot of flack from the older guys, especially in terms of strength. He always worked his ass off but it never seemed to be enough, his hours just kept getting cut. 

He hated it. 

“About as good as it always goes.” Was all Vincent said, groaning a bit as he felt a muscle in his leg pull a bit, easing off of it and leaning back on his hands with a sigh. “I know I’ve been short on rent the past few months but I’m lookin’ for another job, I got an interview at the convenience store on the corner tomorrow and I think it’ll be a pretty easy get.” He said. “The pay is crap but they’ve got the hours so…” He said. “I’m gonna try and make it up to you.” He said honestly and Aiden couldn't help but feel bad. 

Aiden himself had gone to college and graduated and gotten a job in a field he loved and a well paying one at that. Jack was a student but already had a job at his favorite restaurant, tutoring under a really sweet older guy who already wanted to give the kid a permanent place in his staff once he graduated. Vincent...had a bit of a rougher go at things. 

He graduated college but he struggled to find a job in his major and he’d been trying to find one for three years. No one would hire him because of his lack of experience but he worked harder and learned faster than anyone Aiden knew and he had no idea how it felt to not be able to do the thing he loved. It really made him feel for Vincent. 

He never showed it but it depressed him greatly. 

“Well, I may have something part-time you could do.” Aiden offered and Vincent looked up at him curiously. 

“What like be a photographer? I’m terrible at that.” He said as he had never taken a decent picture in his life. Aiden laughed.

“Oh God no, I’d never put you behind the camera,” he insisted making the other man grumble at him. “No I was thinking of putting you in front of one.” He said and vincent gave him a curious look. 

“Okay…” He said and Aiden dug through his camera bag, pulling out a business card and crossing the room to hand it to him. Vincent looked it over curiously, seeing it was a pretty simple card with a very...fun logo.

“I work with a guy who goes to conventions, big ones all over the world,” Aiden explained. “He does cosplay videos and interviews and he’s looking for models to start his own kind of group to take with him for advertising purposes.” He explained and Vincent looked a bit more interested. “I take the cosplay photos for him sometimes when I can make it to conventions and do those paid photoshoots,” he said. 

“Okay, so what, you want me to carry his stuff around?” Vincent asked sarcastically, as Aiden and Jack always joked about him being the mule since he was the strongest of them. Aiden shook his head. 

“No, he’s looking for models dum dum,” Aiden teased, pointing at him. “You’d be perfect, especially for his Marvel stuff,” Aiden said and Vincent blinked.

“You want me to be a cosplayer?” Vincent said incredulously. 

“A professional cosplayer yes,” Aiden said. “The money is good and you get to travel and you get to meet new people all while being dressed up like Captain America or Ruroni Kenshin,” Aiden said, naming two of his favorites. Vincent perked a little at that, looking at the card with renewed curiosity. “Just give him a call,” Aiden said. “There’s no harm in trying right?” He assured him and Vincent gave a hum of thought before hearing Jack call from downstairs. 

“Dinners ready guys~!” 

Aiden turned and left the room, going to his own to put his camera bag away and Vincent got up, putting the card on his desk and tapping it a bit before moving to head downstairs. 

Dinner was pretty basic in terms of conversation, Jack talking about classes and Vincent listening while dropping a sarcastic quip here and there with Aiden just listening quietly. It was the same routine as every night and Aiden couldn't help but wonder if perhaps that would change soon. 

[bangtan-madi]

Can I have headcanons of Juju on the AOT world? 👀👀👀 Would he be similar to Erwin? 💔 Thanks!!

First off! A couple things to note:

Oh my Sina! This is such an amazing idea. I usually don’t do cross-overs, but this one is just so fantastic that I had to do it!

Jumin in the world of Attack on Titan would be so, so interesting. I’m going to pretend that he’s been a character in AoT since the beginning, and am not going to write these headcanons as if he’s been dropped into AoT from MysMe.

However, I am going to try to maintain his personality and life as far as we know in MysMe, only transferring those into the world of AoT. Keep in mind that I have not completed his route yet, so keep that in mind. Along with the fact that this is my interpretation lol.

BTW, I had such a fun time writing this! Please, for the love of the Walls, please request more like this! I am so excited to see what the other characters might be like, so spam my Askbox!

Due to his wealth and status, I definitely think Jumin grew up inside Wall Sina with the other elites. Unlike a lot of the other citizens of the Walls, Jumin never knew the fear of the titans or the hunger of the famine. The only times he ever heard of such things were from members of the Military Police.

I see his father being a high-ranking MP, probably pretty close to the Commander. His mother was probably a noble that died in childbirth. As such, and to keep with MysMe canon, Jumin’s father definitely routinely visited the Underground for his “lady friends.”

Everyone in the world of AoT is hardened and cruel, and that includes citizens of Wall Sina. I don’t think Jumin’s father would have been as loving as he was in MysMe, and that affected Jumin fro a young age. Even more so, I think that Jumin’s father–being Korean–would be even crueler just to survive inside the inner wall. So-called “Orientals” were outcasts, so to overcome that, Jumin’s father would have to be stone-cold.

Elizabeth the 3rd isn’t a purebred cat. Though still a white cat, I think Jumin would’ve found her as a kitten, wandering behind his father’s manner, probably begging for scraps. His father never noticed that Jumin sneaked the tiny creature into his room, nor did he care about the scraps of meat that went missing. She was Jumin’s only true friend throughout his childhood.

Despite his connection to the MPs through his father, I don’t think Jumin would be drawn to joining their ranks. However, I do think his father would’ve encouraged that extensively.

Being the clever boy he is, I think Jumin would have become a cadet with quiet vigor. He would’ve kept his true intentions close to the vest, along with his emotions and trauma. He would’ve fooled everyone he knew. His father, the MP Commander, even the other cadets in his group. Everyone would have assumed that his goal was to join the Military Police, due to his father’s high rank.

But I think Jumin’s heart was leaning towards the Scouts. By the time he’s old enough to enlist, the Military Police disgust him, and he doesn’t really see a point in joining the Garrison Regiment. And that leaves the Survey Corps.

Jumin is a natural with the maneuver gear. As the son of a high-ranking officer and noblewoman, he has always had perfect posture and a poised demeanor. This comes in handy when working the gear. His balance is perfect, and he’s easily able to adjust with unusual terrain. He’s also light on his feet and flexible, which makes his odds of survival quadruple.

Due to his age, I see him being in the same group of recruits as Hange, Levi, Farlan, and Isabel. He’s a lot like Levi in many ways, but I see him being a little warmer towards others. He doesn’t have the tragic background that Levi did, so I think he’ll find Hange amusing and Isabel and Farlan sweet.

He and Levi have a healthy competition to see who can get to the top of the class, much like Eren and Jean did. But unlike those cadets, Jumin and Levi have a mutual respect for each other. Both “Orientals” and Ackermans are outcasts, and even if Levi didn’t know of his heritage at the time, that fact still affected him. After the incident that costs Isabel and Farlan their lives, I can see Jumin and Levi making a pact to never let something like that happen again.

Come graduation, Jumin makes it into the top ten of his class. His father expects him to use that luxury to pick the Military Police. Shocking everyone, Jumin dons the Wings of Freedom and never looks back (and by god, does he look good in the Scouts uniform.) He hasn’t spoken to his father in years.

His first titan kill comes shortly after graduation, on his first expedition outside the Walls under Commander Shadis. It isn’t anything spectacular, but in the eyes of the fellow new recruit he saves, it’s a miracle.

A titan lies in wait behind one of the broken buildings, just waiting for someone to come by. The Scout ahead of him goes first, so she doesn’t see the titan at first. Using his peripheral vision, Jumin is able to spot the man-eater just in time to grab the hood of the other recruit, throw her behind him, and jettison into the air. Using his adaptive skills on the ODM gear, he easily takes down the six-meter monster. This is his first solo kill, the first of many.

Over the next few years, Jumin rises through the ranks and earns the title of Lieutenant. He’s also stationed as second in command under Levi as part of the Captain’s squad, along with Petra, Oluo, Gunther, and Eld.

As far as his similarities to Erwin, they’re both calculating, intelligent, and hard-working. There are a lot of comparisons to draw between Jumin and Erwin, as well as Levi. I see him as a blend of the Captain and Commander.

When Wall Maria is breached by the Colossal and Armored Titans, Jumin is the first to grab a horse and ride for the edge. Even though the Scouts have only just returned to Wall Rose after a long, and ultimately failed, mission into the territory outside Wall Maria, he knows that time is of the essence.

But by the time he arrives, the devastation has already happened. The titans have already gotten inside. Shiganshina has already been evacuated. Only in his early twenties, Jumin soon realizes that humanity’s time is running out.

Over the rest of the arcs in Attack on Titan, I think Jumin is one of the few that could survive it all. Like Levi and Hange, he’d be one of the few veterans to make it through to the end. Not without earning a half-dozen battle scars or losing those he grows to care about, but I really think that the AoT version of Jumin Han has a good chance at survival. He’s intelligent, capable, and quick on his feet. Strength and bravery, he has in surplus, along with close connections to some of the most skilled members of the Survey Corps. However, nothing is for certain. Erwin had all those qualities as well, and he’s fell no more majestically than anyone else.

I could speculate all day about what choices he would make in specific situations, but in the end, I think all that Jumin wants is for people to live. He wants a kinder world, one where people like him can be accepted and kids don’t have to starve. He wants a place where he can live happy, free from fighting and free from the war, free from the titans and the curse they’ve brought.

And like Erwin, while Jumin would want those things for everyone, he wants to see them for himself. To him, it’s not good enough if he has to die to get there. More than anything, he wants to see the end of everything, just like Erwin would have done anything to know the truth of that world. It’s Jumin’s greatest dream to survive the war against the titans, and it’s that dream alone that propels him forward.

[fuwafuwamedb]

Liaison of Chaldea (Pt 2) (Noble! Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Enkidu)

They were in her bed.

Hakuno nearly shrieked at the feeling of the man’s hand running along her leg, stroking up her thigh as he pulled her leg closer. She could feel lips at her neck, her body reacting in a manner stronger than ever. She could hear his voice at her ear, murmuring to her.

“Hakuno.”

She leaped from her bed, yanking the curtains open only to find the two hissing in her bed.

The strange being with green hair climbed off the bed, shoving her things beneath her bed out so they could climb into the darkness underneath. The blond man was punching one of her pillows, groaning.

“Hakuno! Close the curtains!”

“DID YOU SNEAK INTO MY ROOM AGAIN?!”

Both of the two were waving a hand dismissively at her. The blond was inching towards the freedom of the nearby shade of the other side of her small bed. The clay being was entirely under her bed.

“They had a master that was named Hakuno that was a brunette like you,” Gudako had explained yesterday. “I’ll keep them away.”

Yeah. That had worked.

Hakuno sighed, running a hand through her hair and grabbing her texts from the nearby table. Yanking a dress from the closet nearby, she shook her head. “I have to go. I don’t have time for this. Go back to your master.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have a class to teach.”

Since the man who had taught the class formerly had retired, the class was now her burden to bear. The department of Modern Magecraft Theories was probably best suited to her for now.

She would need to hurry to get dressed and head to her office space. She could change there, since it was still early-

Two pairs of arms pulled her away from the door.

“What’s this?”

Hakuno looked up at the king stealing her dress.

“You were going to walk out to change elsewhere into this? Do you not get paid here?”

“I get paid fine.” Hakuno glared back at the man. “Do you both realize how dangerous it is for you both to be here. Your master is relying on me to advocate for Chaldea right now. She is dependent on me being able to convince the Clock Tower that she’s not a threat. I can’t be seen with two men-“

“One man and a clay,” Gilgamesh corrected.

“…Right.” She pat the clay being’s head. “Sorry.”

“Man. Woman. I am both and neither. Please continue.”

She nodded, smiling a little before she caught herself. “I can’t be seen with you both here. The other nobles will assume that you are here to bribe me into advocating.”

“You don’t take bribes.”

Seriously?

She rubbed her forehead, glancing at her books nearby.

“Gilgamesh?”

“Yes, Hakuno?”

He was quite pleased as he drawled his response out, throwing her dress for the day into a nearby mop bucket by the door.

“You’re a wise king. Surely you can see the logic of this. You were capable of showing Humbaba political courtesy when you and Enkidu first encountered the monster. You went through the social courtesies that were required even though you didn’t need to, even offering fake siblings to him.”

The man shrugged lazily, smugger than ever.

“Chaldea has no defenses from us,” Hakuno told him. “Right now, supplies for meals, sleeping, everything; they all come from the Clock Tower. Gudako is paid by our group. If she loses support here, then that’s all gone.”

She gestured a bit for emphasis.

“There won’t be anyone willing to make the trip to Chaldea to drop things off. There won’t be new lackies to do rotations up there to help the servants. I am trying to help. I want Chaldea to continue to flourish, but we can’t be having two advocates for Chaldea climbing into my bed at night and touching me and doing… things, when I’m trying to help.”

“We thought about this,” Enkidu replied easily.

She raised a brow, listening to Gilgamesh laugh a little. The man pulled a bag out of-

“Where are my clothes?”

He was using her drawers for his own bags. Unzipping the first, he held up the vest and jewelry and grinned.

“For the time being, I will feign as a caster.”

“Gil! I can’t have a caster! Why would I have any servant if I’m a teacher?!”

“I have casual attire as well.”

He was digging through the clothes, with Enkidu holding her in place to keep from leaving.

Her eyes drifted to the clock again. Class would start soon. She’d already overslept. Her students would tell one of the other faculty members if she were late.

“Just- wear something nondescript.” He pulled herself away from the clay being, finding an outfit tossed her way.

“I brought you things as well.”

She stared at the white dress, frowning.

“What’s this?”

“It’ll help… since you don’t seem to remember.”

“Dear Lugalbanda, give me strength,” she breathed, turning away from them to walk over to her small bathroom.

The room went silent. A stillness came about that was so powerful that she had to turn around. She had to look between the two only to notice their eyes a bit wider than they should have been.

“…Say that one more time,” Gilgamesh demanded.

“I said, dear God, give me strength.”

Slamming the door shut, she cursed mentally.

She had to hurry to change. She had to be ready to teach. Even if it was in this overly expensive dress, she could at least teach the class and then change into something else immediately.

She would avoid faculty at all costs to avoid questions.

The golden bow was firmly stitched onto the back, making it impossible to make the dress a bit more dull. Any attempt at manipulating the fabric was met with nothing.

She didn’t look in the mirror. She didn’t need to know how much it drained her face of color.

“So you need to teach? It should be interesting to hear you attempt to teach those younger than you.”

Hakuno opened the door, staring over at the man in his red and black blazer and jeans.

“…Where’s your shirt?”

He motioned at himself. “This is an outfit.”

That was not an outfit. That was attention seeking.

Enkidu was no better in that white suit either.

I look like a damn bride to Enkidu like this.

“Forget it. Stay here. I’ll call Gudako when I get back from class.” She grabbed her books again, making it out the door and locking it behind her.

Since they were locked in her room, the two could get bored and decide that Chaldea was the best place for them. They could tinker with things here and there and then go home. She would find her clothing when she got back. She could wear her gym gear once her first class was done.

Immediately, she took off running, opting to not worry about shoes for now.

Staying inside meant she had to take the outskirts routes to the classroom. She sprinted around the workers carrying saint quartz and the workers discussing budgets, almost dancing on the balls of her feet to get into her classroom on time.

“Good morning, everyone,” she greeted, seeing her first few rows of students frowning a bit. “Today we will be discussing familiars. Everyone please open your books to chapter six.”

She paused as a flicker of gold went passed her peripheral.

Two very pleased looking servants were sitting in the very back, feet propped on the table before them as the other students paid them no heed.

Enkidu grinned, holding up a copy of the textbook and motioning for her to continue.

Deep breaths, Hakuno, she thought. They’ll leave.

“Right,” she stated openly. “To begin with, does anyone know how familiars are summoned and for what purpose?”

[theclanscript]

the five keys to son hyunwoo

⋈ pairing: hyunwoo x reader ⋈ word count: 4,119 ⋈ genre: fluff ⋈ notes: starting things off right with our lovely leader ♥

1.      He is funnier than most people, although nobody ever sees it coming

You were sitting under an awning in a corner of campus, your sandwich on the bench next to you and a bottle of water in your hand. With mild interest, you were watching the students hurrying from building to building, door to door, gate to gate. Even though you weren’t a big fan of dressing up for Halloween – at least not at school – you appreciated the effort some of your peers had put into their outfit for October 31st. You had seen several Harry Potters, two minions, a landslide of Marvel characters, and one thing that looked like a six-foot-four Griffin.

You put down your phone after taking a few snapshots and reached for your sandwich. Lunch wasn’t long, but at least you had only two classes left. Just as you were about to bite into the bread, you noticed two people approaching you out of the corner of your eye. You looked up just to see Hoseok, one of your classmates, with his friend Hyunwoo staggering toward you. Hoseok was dressed up as a cowboy, his hat an offensive shade of red and his brown leather boots at least two sizes too big.

“Hey,” Hoseok greeted and his wide smile exposed a row of perfect teeth. “You’re not in the spirit?”

“Not quite yet,” you grinned and nodded at Hyunwoo. You had seen him around and he was in one or two of your classes, but you had never talked much. It wasn’t until three weeks ago that Hoseok had introduced you at lunch and you had learned – or cared to remember – his name.

“And what are you supposed to be?” you asked and looked him up and down. He was dressed in a white overall with black dots on it. The sleeveless garment revealed his tan, muscular arms, and a hairpiece with two plastic horns adorned his head.

“He’s a cow,” Hoseok said excitedly. “Get it? I’m a cowboy. He’s my cow.”

“Yes, I think I understand the concept.” You gave a lopsided grin. “And what’s your lovely cow’s name?”

Hyunwoo looked at you with appropriately big brown eyes, expression completely blank as he answered.

“Hyunmoo.”

2.      He is dependable, get used to it

This was not how you had imagined the second date would go.

The bright, fluorescent lights in the waiting room felt like they were burning your eyes, your breathing was shallow and strained. You were slumped in your chair, trying to focus on something, anything but the severe urge to empty your stomach contents all over the gray PVC coated floors – although by now there could be not much left, if you even still had a stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands, but somehow that upset your insides even more. A low, desperate sound left your mouth, but fortunately nothing else. The chair next to yours shifted as someone sat down and you felt them looming over you.

“How are you holding up?” Hyunwoo’s voice was calm, normal even, as if he had not just driven the girl he had only gone out with once before to the hospital after she had gotten violently sick in the restaurant and all over his shoes.

All you could do was shake your head.

“Try to sit up straight.”

“The light,” you whispered, trying not to sound too pathetic. It was bad enough that you were completely at the mercy of mainstream AC currents.

“Ah. Come here.” Hyunwoo gently pushed against your shoulder to get you to sit up. Then he took off his sweater, folded it once, and carefully placed it over your face to block out the brightness. You inhaled deeply and let your head lull back a little bit and the new position brought immediate relief to your stomach. The sweater smelled faintly of expensive cologne and detergent and Hyunwoo. You smiled as you remembered when he had hugged you goodbye after your first date – on the doorstep of your apartment building, close enough to make sure you were safe, far enough to be considered polite – and how his smell had enveloped you in that moment. His arms had held you tightly, warmly, and his presence had clouded your mind and made you dizzy, until he had let go and a cool fall breeze had jerked you back into reality.

“Can you breathe?” he asked and you nodded slowly.

“Yes. Thank you, this is much better.”

“Good. Let me know if you need to go to the restroom.”

You cringed underneath the soft fabric. This was really not the best time for him to witness you in a gross and vulnerable state like this. Then again, was there ever a good time for that? You prided yourself on your relatively good health and the fact that you rarely got ill. Why did it have to happen today of all days? Why in a restaurant of all places?

Why with the guy you liked of all people?

You had talked to Hyunwoo a few times at school before he had asked you out. He was a friend of a friend and you hadn’t paid him much attention at first, but after a few lunches with some of your mutual classmates, you had been comfortable enough to accept his invitation. He had taken you to the planetarium in the afternoon, then to dinner, and afterwards, after dark, he had driven you into the mountains outside of the city. He had stopped the car in a parking lot, told you to take your jacket, and then presented a telescope from his trunk. You had spent half the night talking, laughing, and stargazing, until you had gotten cold and Hyunwoo had taken you home. You had fallen asleep in the passenger seat on the ride back, but you swore at one point he had gingerly brushed your long hair behind your shoulder and made a small sound – not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh, just a sound in the gentle embrace of affection and contentment.

He had been the perfect gentleman, just as he was now.

“I signed you in so they should call you soon,” Hyunwoo said and you suspected that he was only speaking to make sure you were still responsive.

“Thank you so much, Hyunwoo,” you mumbled, your weak voice muffled by his sweater. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you. I can probably take an Uber home if you don’t want to wait around.”

“Absolutely not.” His voice was firmer now. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to assure him that it was fine to leave, wanted to feel like there was at least the slightest chance that this evening would not shape your relationship forever – or rather, ruin any chance of one in the first place. But you were too weak. You felt powerless, boneless, hopeless.

When your name was called, Hyunwoo was on his feet in an instant, wrapping his sweater around your shoulders before reaching round your back to help you up. He held you close to his side as you walked toward the examination room, leaning into him with every feeble step. It didn’t take long for the doctor to figure out that you were suffering from a gastrointestinal infection. She prescribed you a few meds and sent you on your merry way. All the while, Hyunwoo was sitting on a chair next to the cot, holding your hand and asking questions. This allowed you to simply lie there and focus on listening and breathing, and you were exceedingly grateful to him for this. After leaving the room, he led you back to a chair before disappearing again to take care of all the paperwork and pick up your medication. By the time he came to collect you, you felt like all the strength had left your body and your head was pounding from dehydration. Hyunwoo crouched down in front of you, putting his forearms on either of the chair’s armrests.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes,” you lied. A smirk flashed across his face.

“Do you want me to give you a piggyback ride anyway?”

You stared at him for a moment, a moment you mostly needed to stop your heart from leaping out of your chest.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Hyunwoo turned around without getting up, and you clumsily climbed onto his back. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you pressed your face into his shoulder as he carried you to his car. The cotton of his T-shirt smelled lighter, cooler, but still like him.

You were almost disappointed when he let you down and opened the passenger door for you. He held his hand flat between your head and the roof of the car and made sure you were settled in before closing the door. You were still fumbling with the seatbelt buckle when he dropped into the driver’s seat. He looked at you and offered an empathetic smile.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you said, more out of habit than anything else. You were, in fact, very much not alright. But what point was there in whining to him about it?

“Okay. Let’s stop at a store to get you lots of water and energy drinks and maybe some crackers. Then we’ll take you home and I’ll prepare some soup for you in case you feel like eating tomorrow. I can come by around noon if you need any help. Sound good?”

Slowly, your head rolled to the side to look at him, long and exploringly.

“You’d do that?”

“Of course.” Hyunwoo reached over to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. Then he blushed and cleared his throat as if he suddenly realized what he had done. You smiled and this time it was your turn to reach across the middle console and wrap your fingers around his much bigger hand.

“Thank you, Hyunwoo. I don’t know what else to say, but I’m really very grateful for everything you’ve done. It’s nice not to have to go through this alone.”

He looked down at his hand in yours and then cleared his throat again before meeting your eyes.

“You know I’d do this even if I weren’t in love with you, right?”

“Oh, uh,” you stammered, your brain frantically trying to process what you had just heard. “Yeah, for sure. And I’d still appreciate it if I didn’t like you back.”

Hyunwoo chuckled and placed his other hand on yours, lightly rubbing his thumb over the inside of your wrist before letting go briefly to start the car. He put the gear into drive and then his right hand found your left one, his fingers intertwining with yours, his warmth spreading into your cold and tired body. You relaxed immediately, sinking into the seat and looking at Hyunwoo through hooded eyes, only to find him softly smiling to himself.

“This,” he said and squeezed your hand before setting the blinker, “is not how I imagined the second date would go.”

3.      He rarely swears, but when he does it usually is with good reason

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

You had lost count of how many times Hyunwoo had said those words tonight. And with every time they had made your blood boil more. You weren’t one to care about dates – birthdays, Valentine’s, anniversaries, all of those meant little to you. But the fact that he had promised he would go to your best friend’s wedding this weekend and was now blowing it off because a friend had asked him to help him move was unacceptable to you.

“You have known about this for months, Hyunwoo.”

“I’m sorry!” He flinched when you tsk-ed at him. “It slipped my mind.”

“I can’t believe this,” you hissed. After all, you were still in a restaurant. You had wondered why he had suggested to go out for a nice dinner on a Tuesday, but now it all made sense. Despite appearances, Hyunwoo was a big softie and not one for confrontations – especially not the kind he knew he would lose. “They’re your friends, too!”

“I already said I’d help him out!”

“Can’t you just help on Sunday?” you suggested, giving him one last chance to redeem himself and fix this. It boggled your mind that he would forego the wedding of two very important people in your lives for some dude moving from one gross studio apartment into the next.

“He doesn’t really have many people who can help him and-“ Hyunwoo stopped when you threw your napkin onto the table and pushed back your chair.

“Fine. But you call them and tell them that they have to make last minute changes to the seating arrangement, the food, basically everything that involves the guests. And you call them today.”

You got up and made for the bathroom, but Hyunwoo was hot on your heels.

“Where are you going?”

“To powder my nose and get a toilet seat to break on your thick skull,” you replied without turning around. You didn’t care what the people in the restaurant thought about your performance. All you cared about was that your poor friend would have to rearrange her wedding three days before the date because your boyfriend was too nice.

“You can’t just leave like that!” Hyunwoo insisted, half angry, half pleading.

“Watch me.” You pushed open the door to the ladies’ room and took a deep breath. Then you registered the footsteps behind you and turned to see Hyunwoo standing in front of you, his eyes narrow, his mouth opened to launch another verbal attack. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked up at him expectantly, an evil smirk forming on your lips. Hyunwoo stared back, confused. Then, slowly, it dawned on him where he had followed you without even thinking. His face and ears turned crimson red as the realization hit him and he slouched down slightly, as if it would do anything to help hide his 5’11” frame. You kept staring at him as he practically dove toward the door.

“Fuck,” he cussed and opened it slowly, peering outside to make sure the hallway was empty. You watched in amusement as he squeezed his giant body through the smallest possible opening and closed the door behind him. You heard him groan outside.

“Fuck!”

You giggled and went into one of the empty stalls.

Served him right.

4.      He is a man of few words, but they’re all the right ones

It took a really bad day to get you to admit that you were having a bad day.

You usually opted to look at the bright side, the positive, the silver lining. But today had defeated you, your conviction, and your principles. Every side you looked at was dark like charcoal, the negative had nested in your mind, instead of a silver lining you wished for a shot of silver tequila. You weren’t sure what exactly had tipped the scale over to unsalvageable, or if it was just the culmination of all the things that had gone wrong today. The commute had been hell, work had been worse. Your favorite sweater had been ruined when someone had pushed you down the last two steps of the stairs in the subway station and it had made contact with the filthy ground. Not to mention, your ankle hurt like a bitch. You had dragged yourself home and not made it further than the couch. There you were still lying now, one hour later, in your filthy pants and sweater, when the front door opened and you heard Hyunwoo’s steps in the hallway.

“I’m home,” he said. He never yelled, he simply projected his voice in a way that it could be heard throughout the apartment even though he was only talking slightly louder than usual.

“Hi,” you replied, more a grunt than a greeting. Hyunwoo appeared in the doorframe and studied your form on the couch. Your arm was covering your eyes, making it impossible for him to see your expression. Wordlessly, he left and you heard him rummaging around in the kitchen. A few minutes later, he entered the living room again and stopped next to the sofa.

“Baby?”

Reluctantly, you removed your arm and looked up at him. He tilted his head and sighed before setting down the two cups of tea in his hands on the coffee table next to the sofa. Once again, he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with two cups of fresh black sesame pudding he must have gotten on his way home. You wondered if he had guessed anything from the casual texts you had exchanged throughout the day. It wouldn’t have surprised you.

Slowly, you sat up and allowed him to sit down next to you. You both drank your tea in silence, but somehow even just his presence loosened the tension inside you, and you found yourself lean against his shoulder with a deflated sigh. Hyunwoo took your cup from your hand and put it down alongside his own. Then he wrapped his arms around you so tightly you thought you’d stop breathing, although all his hugs tended to have that effect on you. Your head was resting against his chest, his hands rubbing your back comfortingly as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. You snaked your arms around his waist and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled faintly like expensive cologne and the summer sun and Hyunwoo.

He smelled like home.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Nah,” you sighed, already forgetting all the trials and tribulations of the day. Just being in his arms made the world and its hardships seem far away, and even farther still when he pulled back, cupped your face with his large hands, and kissed you so gently it felt more like a tingle on your lips that left you wanting more. You looked up at him expectantly, but Hyunwoo just gazed into your eyes as if he could read all your stories on the canvas of your irises. Finally, he kissed you again, harder this time, longer, his lips trying to tell you all the answers to questions he knew you’d never ask.

You only opened your eyes again when he whispered your name and smiled warmly.

“You, my love, are everything good in my life.”

“And you, Son Hyunwoo, are the light of mine.”

You giggled when Hyunwoo let himself fall back into the backrest, pulling you with him. You threw your legs over his and cuddled into his chest. He held you close with one arm as the hand of the other caressed your thigh. You sighed again, a deep sigh of comfort and contentment. Hyunwoo’s rhythmic motions and the strain of the day were lulling you to sleep, when suddenly you felt his head lean down to kiss your forehead.

“So,” he said and you felt the vibration of his voice in his chest. “Wanna go shopping on Saturday?”

5.      You will have to learn to read his mind and it will be worth it

The laughter rang in your ears like church bells. The place was loud, loose, full of life. You were having a great time talking to your friends and catching up with old classmates. Hoseok had just opened his first ramen restaurant and had invited what felt like the audience of the Super Bowl. You had heard stories about weddings and honeymoons, children and careers, and provided your own – you and Hyunwoo had just bought your first house together with a big yard. Now you were shopping for puppies. Life was great, and you were happy to see most of the people you cared about were doing equally well.

“I’ll get another drink,” you announced to the group of people you had been talking to and peeled yourself away from them to make your way to the bar. A few people you vaguely recognized waved at you and you returned the gesture but kept your course.

As you waited for your drink, you caught a glimpse of the clock above the door and were surprised to find it was much later than you had anticipated. Your next instinct was to look around – you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in over an hour and you had a gut feeling that that was not a good sign. You thanked the bartender for the rum and coke and went to look for Hyunwoo. A very giddy but helpful Hoseok pointed you toward the outdoor area where you found Hyunwoo sitting in a corner sipping on what you hoped was a regular coke.

“Hey babe.” You sat down next to him and held up your glass. Hyunwoo clinked his to it and smiled.

“You look so beautiful,” he said. You nudged him playfully.

“Are you drunk? You have to drive us home, Hyunwoo.”

“I’m not drunk! You’re just gorgeous.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek and you sank against his shoulder.

“Why thank you.”

“Are you having fun, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice calm and deep. A comfortable warmth spread in your chest. Even after all these years, his voice, his touch, everything about him stirred something in you that felt exhilarating like a crush but transcended love.

“A lot,” you whispered and pressed your chin against his arm to look up at him. “And you?”

“Yeah.”

No.

“Why are you out here alone?”

“Just getting some air.”

I’m bored and there’s too many people. It’s too much.

“Hm.” You took a sip of your drink and yawned. “You know what, babe, on second thought I think I’m getting kinda tired. It’s much later than I thought and the fresh air is really clearing my head.”

“Are you sure? You’re not feeling unwell, are you?” Hyunwoo protectively wrapped an arm around your shoulder but you shook your head.

“I’m fine,” you said. “But can we leave soon? I need to get to bed.”

“Sure.”

Thank you.

“Okay. I’ll go say goodbye and meet you outside, okay?”

“Okay.”

You kissed him quickly and went back inside to find Hoseok and everyone else who mattered. You were met with general understanding – after all, most of your peers were in their 30s now, too – and headed to the entrance of the restaurant. Hyunwoo was waiting with your coat and helped you put it on before holding the door open for you.

“That was nice, though,” you said as you walked toward the car hand-in-hand. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course.”

I would go anywhere for you.

You enjoyed the comfortable silence on the way home. Hyunwoo had found a jazz channel you both liked a lot and the soft notes filled the air between you. His hand was resting heavy on your thigh and you alternated between playing with his fingers and bringing it up to kiss the rough skin of the back of his hand. It was the perfect moment of love and intimacy, and the result of years of learning, failing, and fighting for your relationship.

“Listen,” Hyunwoo said as you were both sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. “I was thinking a little today and there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Oh?” you said and took a cautious sip of the piping hot green tea.

“I-I haven’t really- I don’t have anything prepared or- uh-”

I am so nervous I could die.

“Prepared?” Your head perked up. “Did you find a puppy?”

“No.”

Please just let me talk.

“Okay. Sorry. Go ahead.”

“I’ll just make it quick.”

I cannot imagine my life without you. This is scary, not because I’m not sure of my feelings but because even after all this time I am still afraid that you might leave if I push too much. But seeing everyone tonight has made me realize the life I want for us, the life I want with you. All I’ve ever wanted is you.

You. And me. Forever.

You smiled. Hyunwoo reached across the table, taking both of your hands in his.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded.

“Of course.”

I would do anything for you.

An incredulous laugh escaped Hyunwoo’s lips before he jumped to his feet, walked around the table, and scooped you out of your seat. He wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed you to his body, kissing you over and over until you were both breathless and giggling and holding onto each other for dear life.

Hyunwoo smiled.

I love you.

You kissed him.

Forever.

[antagonistchanremade]

I’ve mentioned before that one of my stories, Stellar Grievances, featured a class system loosely based on the class systems from Fate, Mass Effect, and TF2.

Here’s a bit more of an in-depth look at the system.

Technicians are, lore-wise, tied with Medics and Scouts for being the most intelligent class, though specifically they’re engineers, unlike Medics and Scouts. In terms of actual function? They’re summoners and brawlers. They excel at close-quarters combat due to their brute strength, and they also are capable of deploying self-constructing drones and structures to aid them and their team. The reason that they’re brawlers is because of the tools they use to deploy their robotic buddies, portable micro-factories called Wrenches; Wrenches were initially designed specifically for the deploying purpose, but early Technicians realized that Wrenches were also just really good for hitting stuff. So, they started designing Wrenches with this secondary function in mind, being sturdier and tougher, and also started working out themselves to better effectively wield Wrenches as weapons. Even without a Wrench, Technicians just tend to be the most buff class as a result, since they rely more on muscle mass than any other class (though Knights, Assassins, Marines, and particularly Scouts tend to be in better shape overall). Technicians also have a number of secondary abilities that aren’t quite as crucial to their function as summoning and brawling, and aren’t even universal, but are still interesting, such as hacking enemy computers and equipment to backfire on themselves, or mildly manipulating gravity (but only for themselves).

The main protagonist of Stellar Grievances, Stella Greenfield, is a Technician who wields an arm-mounted Wrench called, well, the Gauntlet Wrench; this means that her fighting style revolves partially around deploying drones and structures, and partially around just punching shit. She also utilizes gravity manipulation quite a bit to enhance her dodging and her punching. Finally, she also designed an AI, Eve, who provides advice, runs all of her drones and structures, and assists in hacking.

Another major Technician is known as Haley, and she wields a Wrench that looks like some kind of cross between an actual wrench and something out of either RWBY or Lyrical Nanoha. She’s noteworthy for being a Technician who doesn’t rely as much on her intellect; sure, she’s just as smart as any other Technician, and she does use her drones and structures at all and utilizes gravity manipulation for the same reasons as Stella... but she mostly focuses on the brawler aspect of being a Technician. She really likes hitting things, and she’s really good at it.

Assassins are, lore-wise, well, assassins. However, that doesn’t actually quite demonstrate their actual function. Their true function is being a stealthy Support class that focuses on debuffing enemies. All Assassins have one major stealth ability, but if they want to learn a new one, they must forget the old one, and all stealth abilities are intended to be sidegrades to each other. More importantly, though, is that Assassins can learn a wide variety of debuff skills that can be cast either at a distance or up-close. See, Assassins did start out as actual assassins, and when they joined the fight, they intended to use those same skills of taking out priority targets, but they quickly found that such skills weren’t as effective here. But, they did find that their weapons could be repurposed for Support purposes. The distance at which a Skill can be cast isn’t dependent on the Skill itself, but rather, on the weapon- some Assassins use things like knives, while others use things like sniper rifles. However, as a side ability, Assassins are still capable of one-hit kills on most enemies, but these one-hit kills are costly and don’t work on particularly tough enemies, so it has limited use.

The secondary protagonist of Stellar Grievances, Madison (no last name), is an Assassin who wields a sniper rifle and has the stealth ability of turning invisible for a short period. Her rifle has multiple delivery methods for debuffs- tranquilizer darts and vials of harmful substances can be fired from it, and it also has a transmitter near the barrel for sending out signals to potentially hack enemy equipment.

Another major Assassin named Ichika has a ninja gimmick- his weapon is a kunai that can be coated in harmful substances and has a sort of communications disruptor attached, and his stealth ability is disguising as enemies.

Another potential stealth ability could be a smokescreen or an EMP.

Medics are, lore-wise, again, tied with Technicians and Scouts as the most intelligent class, but are physicians. Their function is pretty widely varied- they are a combination of a Support class (being a healer and buffer) and a Tank class (being capable of absorbing lots of damage). Medics joined the fight primarily as healers, and quickly adopted the other two functions in order to be more useful. Medics are unique in that they wield two major pieces of equipment, one MedTool, and one shield. The shields are how they function as Tanks; not only can it absorb damage the Medic would have taken, it can also be used to protect teammates. The MedTool, meanwhile, is responsible for their Support class endeavors. It’s responsible for healing and buffing teammates. A secondary “ability” Medics have is being deadly against the undead; “ability” is in quotes because it isn’t really a separate ability, and more like a separate trait of their healing ability. “Healing” an undead enemy does damage. An actual secondary ability is bashing enemies with their shields, though since Medics tend to be the least in-shape class, this has limited effectiveness most of the time.

The team’s Medic is Lily Flowers, who has a prosthetic arm with her MedTool built in and a holographic shield generator affixed to her living arm.

Another major Medic has a MedTool that’s a staff, and his holographic shield generator is actually affixed to the front of the MedTool, so it’s like a two-in-one deal.

Another major Medic, meanwhile, has a force field generator instead of a holographic shield, and the default shield is just plain solid.

Knights are, lore-wise, the oldest class, sorta. While the class system is in general a fairly recent development, all Knights were originally members of an order of knights that has existed for centuries. In terms of function, they are experts at bladed melee, and they’re also psychic. So, they all wield bladed weapons- swords, axes, etc.- and they all have crazy mind powers. Their mind powers mostly just benefit themselves, with abilities like being able to see through the eyes of others or electrocuting enemies or setting their blades aflame.

The team’s Knight is Kyousuke Tenjou, who wields a longsword and often uses telekinesis and sets his blade aflame.

Another Knight named Gabriella wields a rapier, and another one known only as the mysterious Delta Knight uses arm-mounted blades.

Marines are, lore-wise and function-wise, possibly the most boring class to talk about, though that’s not a bad thing; they keep things simple and don’t try to fix what ain’t broke. Lore-wise, they’re soldiers, nothing much else to them. And function-wise, Marines are defined by the fact that they use guns. A lot of them. Most classes are limited to having one piece of primary equipment (Technicians have Wrenches, Knights have Swords, Assassins have their weapons); the two exceptions are Medics (who have two, their MedTool and their shield) and Marines. Marines can carry up to six pieces of primary equipment. And unlike Medics, who have two types of equipment and they can have one of each? Marines only have the one type of equipment, guns. They can just have six of them at once. And that’s really it. They have guns. They’re also fairly slow, which makes them pair up well with Scouts; you’ll see why once we get to them next.

The team’s Marine is James Ferguson. His favorite gun is a laser gun that’s labelled as an “assault rifle” since it fires a steady beam; it looks like a tommygun. He also has a revolver that, when fired at the ground, causes a serious of spikes to shoot out from the ground, kinda like Lurkers from StarCraft. And he has a flamethrower.

Scouts are, lore-wise, the final “intelligent” class, alongside Medics and Technicians, and are specifically scientists. Function-wise, Scouts are the most unique class, and the best descriptor I can come up with for their role is “agile masters of Battlefield Control”. A Scout’s main piece of equipment is their, well, transportation. The piece of equipment that makes them so agile compared to everyone else. As for their skills? That’s where things get complicated. One thing a Scout can do? Instantly swap places with another teammate (hence why they pair so well with Marines). They can also analyze the battlefield to spot things like environmental hazards, traps, drops, pickups, and other things. And they can analyze enemies to learn the enemy’s strengths, weaknesses, and skills. They can also move pickups and put them somewhere else, and send out and pick up distress calls, and operate vehicles with increased skill. They also have some offensive skills, like sending out ricocheting projectiles or just straight up attacking an enemy with a buzzsaw. Just, in general, they have a number of really miscellaneous and esoteric abilities, mostly but not entirely geared towards support.

The team’s Scout is Travis, who has hoverboots.

Other Scout transports include hoverboards, motorcycles, jetpacks, and grappling hooks.