#when they can control a room through these specific trade skills

[hijklab]

The thing about liveship traders that I think is so dope is that from page one you’re given exactly the tools that the vestrits will use to get through everything together. They are traders, they bargain. They don’t just bargain their way into marriages, they bargain their way out of poverty, into new government structures, into the favor of the most powerful people and creatures in their world, into royal status among dragons and pirates and diplomats, until they’re literally shaping a new society and new relationship with humanity entirely. From day one we understand that this family has a specific skill set and then they use it to dig their way out of hell.

[nuked126]

Chapter 8 - Maze and Cliver vs Beesup!

We see Commander Black hiding in the basement. He calls Dr. Gero from his computer. “Dr. Gero, help us! We are under attack. We need your Android to come and support us.” Commander Black screams at Dr. Gero. “Very well, from its current location. It will probably take it about half a day or so to arrive. Please hold on while it arrives.” Dr. Gero says. “But-” Commander black was about to respond, but the call disconnected before he could say anything. “Honestly I don’t care if any of those idiots die, but if those people get ahold of the Dragon Balls, then that holds a problem for me.” he says as he begins to call Android 11. Android 11 flies through the Air as she feels a vibration in her pants. “Oh yeah, I forgot I had this thing.” she thinks. “Hey what’s up old man. I was just going to go see you” she tells Gero. “Have some respect, you brat! Listen, I need you to go recover the Dragon Balls from the Red Ribbon Army. They are about to be destroyed. Kill everyone who gets in your way.” Dr. Gero orders Android 11. “Will you pay me if I do it?” Android eleven asks. “What? You want payment! No! Do it because I ordered you to!” Dr. Gero screams infuriated at the request. “Sure, but can I atleast get some allowance? I just want some food, man.” she says. Dr. Gero sighs “Look, I will consider it after you retrieve the Dragon Balls and give them back to me, ok?” Dr. Gero asks in a reasonable tone. “You got it boss!” Android 11 says as she hangs up and begins flying towards The Red Ribbon Army. “I really need to fix that controller.” he thinks.

 “Damn it, we are not gonna last that long”  Commander Black shouts. “Why are we cowering in here while the rest of our men are fighting?” Colonel Silver asks coldly. “Are you crazy? There’s no way we could defeat such beasts.” Commander Black says. “How about we surrender? None of our work means nothing if we die…” Captain Yellow says embarrassed. “I will not let all my work go to waste. I’ll send an alarm for a tactical retreat… wait, where’s Violet” he asks. He sends a signal with his computer that turns all red alarms yellow, signaling his followers to retreat. He also looks through the cameras, and he sees Violet stealing from the main Vault. “That bitch! Wait… what about the Dragon Balls?!” He says, he quickly switches to that camera. Where he sees two of his men, standing before the Dragon.

“Kyohoho! What do we have here? Give me the Dragon Balls, I don’t think you get paid enough for this.” Beesup tells our heroes. “What can I say, we just have a really good work ethic.” Cliver replies. “Have it your way.” he says. He begins to attack them claw-to-hand, but in numbers, he has some difficulty attacking two people at once. Blows are traded and blocked. “I see you know some basic Ki techniques.” Beesup says. “Those men are quite skilled! Who are these guys?” Commander Black says.

While Beesup is fighting Cliver with a mop, Cliver quickly ducks as Maze performs a shining wizard, throwing Beesup to the ground. After that Cliver tries to stomp the turtle, however he quickly spins away. “Those are quite amazing moves, just who trained you?” Beesup asks. “You should know him, we are apprentices of  none other than Master King!” Maze says. “M-master King?! That old bastard trained a couple of humans?! He has really gone soft over time. Well no matter, I’ll just go all out with my strongest attack: Kaiten Hi Kogeki!” he says as he floats in the air, and he gets inside his shell as he begins to aggressively rotate as fire comes out of every hole. “Duck!” Maze says. They both go to the ground as the flames begin to burn the room. Their eyes look around, following the turtle how it bounces off walls, rolling around when it gets too close to them. The speed makes it quite difficult “They are doomed!” Commander Black says. When suddenly, Cliver rolls to a specific location. “I got you!” he shouts. The place he’s at lets him perfectly hit the bottom part of the shell, avoiding the flames. He sends him flying upward, breaking the ceiling. It quickly loses its balance and falls back inside. “I feel dizzy.” he says. “Your technique might be powerful in terms of range, power and speed, but it's too uncontrollable. You can’t see where we are, and you can’t drift in the middle of the air.” Cliver says. “They did it! They saved the Dragon Balls! Hahahahaha!” Commander Black and his crew celebrate. However, their celebration is short lived, as they see the two heroes steal the Dragon Balls themselves. “What are they doing?!” Commander Black screams. “I think they are relocating the dragonballs?” Captain yellow shrugs in embarrassment. “Unlikely Nobody asked to do that.” Silver says as Commander Black is having a mental breakdown.

Our heroes successfully escape the Red Ribbon HQ. Kuwin stands in the communication Room, getting taught how to use the radar by the engineers. Night and Beesup come into the room. "I successfully subdued any type of resistance, all the ones willing to work with us have been relocated to the Barracks." Night tells Kuwin. "Thank you. And you Beesup, how many Dragon Balls did they have?" Kuwin asks. "We have a problem. Two of the troops ran away with the Dragon Balls…" Beesup says sickly. "What? How? It's not possible that they could outpower you- wait, don't tell me, you used your stupid move again? It's a waste of Ki that leaves you completely defenseless!" Kuwin says upset. "But I had a good reason to use it! Those people weren't ordinary, they were trained by Master King'' he says. "What? You mean Pon and Ruk? That's not possible, and didn't I kill Ruk already?" Kuwin asks, confused. "It wasn't them, they were humans." Beesup replies. "Nonsense, that xenophobic isolationist would never." Kuwin tells him. "But they mentioned his name! There's no way they would have known him otherwise."  He says. "That's true. Well whatever they are, you failed. Night, please fix his mistake; go after the dragon balls, Beesup will tell you the directions while I train the troops."

Our Heroes gain the advantage! Will they be able to keep it? Or will they succumb to the multiple threats coming their way?

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

[monster-volk]

[Key Elements of Game Design | Multiple Examples]

[Topics discussed]

Player Punishment

Easter Eggs

Self Led Gameplay 

Goals. Challenges and Rewards 

Progression Vs Emergent Gameplay 

Balance, Flow and Microtransactions 

[Player Punishment]

Sonic the Hedgehog

Player punishment is required in order toouhfhdkdhjfhdskfsdfksdhfkjsksdhskjh rewarding blah blah blah objective blah blah blah IDFKKKKKK!!

Sonic punishes the player by having them lose rings when they are hit 

Rings are effectively HP within Sonic and if you have 0, if you are hit you will die 

This is balanced out by allowing the player to recollect their rings for a short period of time after being hit 

The player can also collect more rings as they progress through the level 

[Secrets & Easter Eggs]

Bully

The cars in the background of the shop class are models from GTA 

References to Manhunt such as townspeople mentioning the main antagonist Starkweather and drawings of Piggsy in the asylum 

“I’m the daddy now” quote by Jim taken from the 1979 movie ‘Scum’ 

Vance Medici might say, "You're tearin' me apart." if the player knocks him out, a reference to The Room and Rebel Without a Cause 

[]

Stardew Valley

Stardew Valley is a great casual game to play as there is no real mastery of skill 

Controls aren’t especially intuitive, however, most casual players would be playing on mobile so that’s not a huge problem 

Despite having punishments it’s very forgiving and allows the player freedom to direct their own gameplay 

This can also be a con as no real direction can confuse more casual players as they’ll have too much choice 

Simplistic art style 

[Sandbox Games]

No Man's Sky

No Man’s Sky has a sandbox mode where you can explore the various AI generated galaxies and solar systems and have all the building blueprints to begin with, so you have no limitations 

A lot of No Man’s Sky is self-led, although there is a main quest there are also various side quests and it’s not mandatory to complete them in a specific order or specific way 

[Core Gameplay Mechanics] 

What is meant by core gameplay mechanics are the systems, functions and rules set up by the game, usually meant to challenge a player

An example would be how in platformer games you can jump and move from side to side.

[Goals, Challenges and Rewards] 

Without any drive for the player to continue the game, mechanics can become incredibly boring by themselves 

Developers usually reward players in the form of prizes after completing tasks, goals, levels, etcetera.

[Progression Vs Emergent Gameplay] 

Progressive gameplay has a linear gameplay that has a singular path/conclusion for the player to work towards.

Whereas emergent gameplay offers the player the ability to lead themselves throughout the game and interact with it however they want to. Often these games don't have a conclusion.

Examples of emergent styles of gameplay would be games with multiple endings, multiple side quests, choice based consequences, etcetera.

However, this does not make either form of gameplay mutually exclusive and can be incorporated together, an example being No Man's Sky as you can choose to play as you wish, exploring, trading, building, fighting, etcetera but there is a main, linear storyline with a single conclusion. Even if you complete the main storyline, the player can continue to play the game however they wish to.

[Balance, Flow and Microtransactions] 

 Balance and flow refers to the game's pacing and if it's consistent or comfortable for players.

Things that can affect balance and flow can be harsh player punishments or lax ones, as well as sometimes how the storyline of a game is written, though this is not as imporant.

Microtransactions in recent year have affected balance and flow in a lot of games as companies will try to frustrate players into purchasing in-game items.

This can also affect other players as if you are on a multiplayer platform, those who can afford the best items will become the best in the game which will hurt other players' experience.

[beom1e]

PINK GUITAR

nobody had ever really noticed you before. you spent your entire life blending in with the crowd, despite dedicating your entire life to becoming a singer on stage. you’d always felt so unimportant and uninteresting. but to him, you were the bright splash of colour in a grey world.

PAIRING park jongseong x fem! reader

THEMES bassist! jay, vocalist! reader, fluff, highschool au

WARNINGS very light sex references

the energy of the club whenever a band was performing was your favourite. everybody was dancing and singing along to what they knew, using those few hours to push away all of their responsibilities and just relax. for many years, you had witnessed it from the crowd with a yearning to be up there creating that energy yourself.

having taken up guitar lessons at a young age with an innate desire to perform, you knew that one day you’d get the chance. or, at least you thought you would. auditioning for a highschool band seemed like an ingenious idea at the time, until you got the part as sub vocalist. the girl that had taken your place as lead vocalist happened to be sleeping with the band’s leader... and the rest was history.

but the lost opportunity wasn’t going to get you down. especially not as you were standing in that very same club, sipping on your drink and eyeing the competition on stage.

said competition was the small group that had taken over the school with their good looks and musical talent. there was heeseung as the lead vocalist, a sweet boy who had already graduated. then there was sunghoon, the lead guitarist that had every girl and guy alike in the palm of his hand. and jake, he was the drummer but spent most of his time trying to be the top of the class and flirting with his fangirls. finally there was jay, the bassist. you didn’t know much about him, just that he seemed very chilled out and insanely popular for that reason specifically.

something about jay always had you wondering, though. he’d meet your gaze as you were sipping from your drink, keeping his eyes on you. it made you feel seen, and you felt stupid for feeling that way. in what world would jay park be interested in you?

as the last song came to a end, you turned back and made your way through the crowd. there your own bandmates were, chatting amongst themselves.

being in their band was a temporary fix. you weren’t their friend, nor were you a necessary member of the band. although you could easily be traded out for someone else, you really didn’t mind. at least you had the opportunity to be on stage, even if it was out of the spotlight.

‘we should head backstage,’ you reminded your lead vocalist before stepping away from them. making your way through the staff only door and heading up the steps, you came face to face with jay.

‘hey, y/n,’ he greeted with a smile, moving out of the way so that you could get past him. you mumbled a quick thank you before fleeing the scene and finding your guitar. jake and sunghoon passed by you as well, talking loudly about something. and then heeseung, who smiled at you before following the rest of the boys onto the floor of the club.

your own band finally showed up as you were checking the tuning of your guitar. the four of you made your way onto the stage, the lead vocalist getting right into greeting everyone.

it was routine. you started the song off with the strum of your electric guitar, and the energy began to pick up. the lead vocalist sang, the drummer played the drums, and the bassist played his bass guitar. you had small singing parts, usually as the backup for your lead, but it was enough for now.

jay was watching your every move. from your black painted nails to the pick between your lips to the way you gripped the microphone and sang so beautifully. his favourite thing was your baby pink electric guitar, perfectly preserved and a huge contrast to the outfits you wore on stage. he was completely mesmerised by you, but you didn’t have a clue.

singing was your first love. you loved the rush of playing a guitar solo, but nothing felt better than expressing your emotions through your voice and lyrics. so every friday, as students began flooding out of the school gates, you headed to the music classroom for practice.

your piano skills were rusty, but you took a seat at the instrument anyway. although, there was one tune you would never be able to forget, which happened to be a song you’d written. your purpose in the band wasn’t to write music, so you’d never mentioned it to your bandmates.

as your fingers ran delicately against the keys, you began to hum. jay came to a stop outside of the classroom at the sound of your playing.

when you began to sing your lyrics, he felt himself mindlessly smiling. he always thought you had a better voice than your lead singer, and was confused as to why you were made sub vocalist. it seemed like you were overflowing with musical ability, and deserved a better place in your band.

‘that’s a pretty song,’ he stepped inside, making you jump. there was a horrible clash of piano keys coming together to make an awful sound that made you both cringe. ‘sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘it’s fine,’ you turned around on the piano bench to face him. ‘how long have you been there?’

‘just since you started singing,’ he shrugged, but you felt your eyes go wide. nobody had ever heard your song before, so you couldn’t believe the first person to hear it was jay park. ‘oh... i’m sorry for invading your privacy. i just came here to pick up my guitar.’

‘seriously, it’s fine, jay,’ you reassured with a smile, watching him reach for his guitar. ‘but maybe knock next time so that i don’t almost have a heart attack.’

he laughed shortly at your words. as he was about to leave, he turned back around to face you. ‘you have a really beautiful singing voice,’ your cheeks began to heat up. ‘you know, heeseung has been considering leaving the band since he’s no longer a highschool student. so if you ever wanted to practice as a lead vocalist, the place is up for grabs.’

‘i think i’d like that,’ jay couldn’t help but smile at your words. ‘do you want my number so we can arrange a session together?’

sunghoon and jake were tired of hearing jay go on and on about you. he’d been jumpy all day waiting for you to show up, so much so that heeseung felt himself getting dizzy.

when you did arrive, everybody already looked exhausted. it reminded you a lot of your own band practices, since everybody in your band was always so dull and boring.

‘y/n!’ heeseung called happily, dropping down from a barstool to greet you. ‘finally, you’re here.’

‘did i keep you all waiting long...?’ you awkwardly looked around the room. but nobody seemed too annoyed, so you were sure you were off the hook.

‘no,’ sunghoon started. ‘just jay—’ jake reached to cover sunghoon’s mouth, cutting him off.

‘let’s get you set up,’ heeseung suggested, gesturing towards the stage. you followed him up, the other three boys finding their instruments. ‘just choose a song you want to try and they’ll start.’

he jumped back down from the stage to sit back on his bar stool. at first you felt awkward, standing up in front of the band’s current lead vocalist. it didn’t help that you couldn’t see the three boys behind you.

but after a while, you started to feel more comfortable. and it was fun, taking control of the songs with your vocals. every couple of songs, you’d take a snack or drink break and sit around on the stage with the boys, just chatting amongst yourselves. jay was unusually quiet, watching you laugh with his friends from the sidelines. it wasn’t jealousy, he just liked seeing you happy and carefree.

after the session was over, you packed up your pink guitar and said goodbye to the boys. jay followed you out, catching your wrist to spin you around.

‘you’re amazing, y/n,’ he spoke, holding back a smile. ‘i’m not going to force you to leave your own band, but i want you to know the position is being offered to you. so think about it, please?’

‘i will,’ you nodded, beaming with pride. ‘thank you for today, jay. i’ll see you on monday.’

you were sitting with your back against the tree, snack in one hand and a book in the other. considering it was a sunny day, you thought it was a great idea. well, you were wrong.

‘enjoying that, y/n?’ you lowered the book to see your lead singer standing in front of you. ‘i just came to see if the rumours were true.’

‘what rumours?’ you closed your book, setting it down beside yourself. she was standing with her arms crossed, an annoyed look on her face.

‘just that you’re the new lead singer for jay and his little buddies,’ the tone of her voice was mocking. a smirk was on her lips, as if this whole thing was nothing more than a joke to her.

‘well, they’re not true,’ you defended. ‘heeseung is leaving and jay asked me to practice with them. he said he really likes my singing voice and that they’ve been wanting a female touch to the band.’

‘well, they’re kind of true,’ she squinted her eyes, staring down at you. ‘if you want to fraternise with the enemy, then go ahead. but you’re out of our band, and we won’t be taking you back.’

‘fine by me,’ you stood, slipping your bag onto your shoulder. ‘good luck sleeping your way to the top, we all know that’s the only reason you got lead singer.’

as you tried to walk away, she just kept going on. ‘do you really think i’m that stupid, y/n? the only reason jay is offering you a place in their band is because he’s hoping to sleep with you.’

‘unbelievable,’ you turned back around. ‘can you just drop it? i really don’t care for your opinion.’

‘not an opinion, y/n,’ she stepped forward, a smug smile on her face. ‘just a fact.’ shoving past you, she disappeared inside of the building.

there was a knock on the door and you looked up from your lyric book. ‘hey,’ jay greeted, letting himself into the music classroom. ‘i heard what happened.’

‘hi, jay,’ you smiled weakly. ‘yeah, it was pretty bad... but please don’t pity invite me into your band.’

‘can i sit here?’ he gestured towards the piano bench you were occupying. you nodded, sliding over a bit to give him more room. ‘i’m not pity inviting you. with heeseung leaving, we need a talented vocalist to take his place. i’ve seen you sing and perform, and i just genuinely think you’re an amazing artist.’

‘thanks,’ you bit back your smile, looking off to the side. ‘that means a lot. but i do have one question.’

‘i’m sure i have an answer,’ jay shrugged.

‘please bare in mind that i really don’t see you as the type to do this,’ your words made him tense up. what could you possibly need to ask? ‘but ever since she mentioned it, i couldn’t stop thinking about it. you’re not asking me just because you want to sleep with me, are you?’

‘no,’ his answer came quick. he didn’t want you to see him as that type. ‘i can’t say that i don’t have feelings for you, but i wasn’t looking to pursue you. i’m sensible, keeping work and play separate.’

‘work and play?’ you laughed, resting your hand on his arm for support. ‘work hard, play hard type of guy? not very surprising.’

‘nah, that’s jake,’ he laughed along with you, eyes moving down to where your hand was. feeling awkward, you removed your hand and cleared your throat. ‘but seriously, the spot is yours. i’d love to see you up there thriving on stage.’

he stood from the bench, sending you one last smile before turning out of the room. shuffling your things into your bag, you ran to catch up to him. ‘jay, wait!’ you called, seeing him stop in his tracks.

‘yeah?’ he asked cluelessly. you got closer, a bright smile on your lips. leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. jay felt himself tensing up, his entire body warming up at the gesture.

‘thank you, jongseong,’ you smiled, then leaving him to stand there looking like an idiot.

[heliads]

Second Best

Based on this request: “a Zoya Nazyalensky story where she and the reader are friends and one night they get into a fight and Zoya confesses her love?”

masterlist

The task before you is simple. All you have to do is use your abilities as a Grisha Squaller to pick up the metal spear before you and launch it across a clearing into the awaiting target. It’s almost offensively easy, something you’ve been training to do since you arrived at the Little Palace all those years ago. It’s very simple, although the fact that you’re now next in line to complete the task makes it seem strangely harder.

However, the eyes of the rest of the Squallers are upon you, so you can’t exactly back down now. You step forward, lifting your hands in the traditional gestures used by the Etherealki whenever they have it in their minds to do something particularly interesting, and the spear lifts before you. You let it hover there, suspended in the air for a second, and then you fling your hands forward, palms facing the target. The spear flies in unison with your movement, burying itself halfway through its length in the target. It’s almost a perfect shot, maybe off by a hair’s breadth. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

You can hear applause from behind you, the usual aura of surprise that comes with the feat you’ve just accomplished. With a casual gesture of your fingers, the spear yanks itself out of the target, with only a few sparse pieces of straw falling to the ground as any sort of damage. Well, that and the gaping hole in the center of the target, although that is quickly mended by the Fabrikator kept on hand. You can’t help but grin to yourself as the spear returns to your hand. Let’s see anyone else match that.

You may have spoken a little too soon- seconds after you’ve returned the spear to its awaiting position near the front of the courtyard, it’s hurled again through the air, shooting with the precision of an arrow to land in the direct center of the target. You thought it might be impossible to improve upon the slight difference in your shot, but this latest Squaller has managed it with ease.

Normally, any other blue-garbed Etherealki would be looking around in horror and dismay, upset as to what would cost them the first place spot in the class and curious as to who could land a perfect shot such as that. You, however, are somewhat used to this now, and just keep walking with a grin. You can hear footsteps approaching behind you, and don’t even have to turn around to acknowledge the girl now matching your strides.

“Nice one, Zoya.” The girl beside you smirks. “I should hope so. If I so much as missed the center by a hair, you wouldn’t let me forget it for a week.” You laugh. “Of course not. How could I let go of the chance to not tease Zoya’Best In Class’ Nazyalensky? It would practically be  a crime.” Zoya nods, pretending to be serious. “Absolutely. The Saints might invoke their wrath upon you if you didn’t act upon such an opportunity.” You fling your hand over your heart dramatically. “Here lies Y/N L/N, dead after the Saints wanted to see her make fun of her friend and she let them down.”

Zoya snorts graciously as you pretend to faint on her, shoving your mock limp body aside. “Oh, you consider us friends?” You catch yourself easily, rolling your eyes. “Zoya dear, I know it would bring you no greater pleasure in the world to consider yourself a lone wolf, forever at the front of the pack, but I thought you’d realized by now that you simply can’t get rid of me. We’re friends.” 

You can hear Zoya grumbling, but when you glance over at her, there’s an ill-concealed smile dancing behind her eyes. “That’s an interesting way to convince people to like you, annoy them and make sure you don’t ever leave you alone.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “And did it work, yes or no?” Zoya huffs. “It did, but we’re not talking about that.” You grin. “Of course we’re not.”

You pause by the halls of the Little Palace, ready to part ways as usual. Although the Etherealki and Squallers specifically all have their quarters around the same area, Zoya’s rooms are a ways away from your own. This is typically where you split up, where you go your way and Zoya returns to her own devices, where she’ll most likely plot how to take control of the next lesson and prove herself the best of the students yet again.

However, Zoya shakes her head, continuing to walk next to you. “There are too many people waiting by my doors. I’m staying in yours instead, if that’s alright.” You nod, unable to keep a teasing grin from your face. “Of course it’s alright. It must be so hard, having to deal with suitors and fans so often. I imagine it to be simply exhausting.” You’re expecting Zoya’s vexed scowl and smack on the arm, so you’re able to duck out of the range of both.

This is how it is to be close friends with Zoya Nazyalensky, after all. You laugh with her, develop a thick enough skin to stand the constant scathing remarks that must of course be exchanged, and do your best to keep up with the neverending flow of power and possibility that always seems to come her way. That’s how it has always been, and how it will always be.

It’s not that you mind this, of course. You learned early on that no matter how hard you try, she’s always going to come in first in the class competitions and Grisha displays of strength. Being second out of so many Etherealki is pretty damn good for you, and you can tell that there’s a slight sigh of relief in Zoya’s eyes when you never seem to mind her showing off or ruining what might have been a first place finish for you. Hey- you never came to the Little Palace to always be the best, you came to learn and laugh, and you do that with Zoya. You would never trade what you have with her for fierce competition, even if it meant that you’d start besting her in contests.

This isn’t to say that you wouldn’t change slight aspects of your friendship, of course. For some reason, your heart decided to join the scores of other Grisha and even otkazat’sya that were foolish enough to fall in love with Zoya, and you’re just as hopeless as the rest. It’s just the way that she laughs when she wins, the glimmer of competition and spirit in everything she does, the undeniable thrill in your chest whenever you spot the familiar blue-clad silhouette heading briskly your way. No, you don���t think there was ever a way that you wouldn’t fall under her spell, even if you tried your hardest to fight it.

You could have told her you loved her, you think. You could have mentioned it to Zoya at any point, but you don’t. You’ve seen the way she watches potential friends for their weaknesses, having to always second-guess why they’re talking to her. Is this latest Corporalki approaching her because he truly wants to be her friend, or is it because he instead desires the secrets of her skill in Grisha abilities or as another girl in his bed? For anyone else, you think the constant doubts would drive someone mad, but it doesn’t for Zoya. She’s able to tuck it inside herself, bury it until you wouldn’t even know it was there at all.

She told you once, when the night was dark and long and Zoya couldn’t stop herself from having slightly too much kvas after a hard mission, that she sometimes terrifies herself over the fact that she might always be alone. You can still picture her there, curled up in a chair by your fire, the haunted look in her eyes. You know something happened before she came to the Little Palace, something that made her never trust another soul unless they worked to prove it, but it’s hovering in the back of her mind right now.

So, you nodded at her, and gave her another one of your sapphire blankets to help the way that she won’t stop shivering, and you listen. When Zoya looks up at you again, as if expecting to leave like the others or at least shoo her from your rooms, you simply offer for her to stay the night and not have to go back to her empty quarters. You think that was the moment when she finally accepted that you weren’t going away, when she really started to trust you.

This is precisely why you cannot say a word about how you feel- if Zoya finds out, she’ll begin to wonder if your entire friendship was just borne of a lie, the same as any of the other heartstruck Etherealki who think themselves brave enough to tame Zoya. So, you make sure to direct your lingering glances towards the woods and the scenery around you instead of her, and you force a joking smile instead of a soft look. She would know what you meant if you didn’t hide your heart, so you must do your best to deceive her. 

You’ve arrived in your rooms by now, tossing your outer coats to the side and warming your hands by the fire in the corner. You talk for a while about the class and the other students and the way Marie won’t stop staring at Sergei, a Corpoalki who she most certainly should not be associated with. Zoya stays until the candles burn low, and then she says goodbye with a smile. You return her smile. You always do.

You have a most interesting conversation over the next week. It’s not with Zoya, as it turns out, but General Kirigan. Truth be told, you weren’t expecting it at all. He’d caught you unawares in the library one night, while you were studying the particulars of the making at the heart of the world for a class lecture the next day. He hadn’t been there one second yet appeared the next, looming over your book with a shadow that seemed too tall and menacing to be real.

You had looked up in surprise, but he held up a hand, quelling any doubts that you’d accidentally done something wrong. He spoke to you about a regiment of Grisha in one of the backwater towns, some part of the Second Army that was asking for far too many supplies in exchange for the lackluster job they were doing to protect the potential Grisha in the city. For some reason, he asked your opinion of what to do about them, and you gave it. He thanked you with a smile, then left.

This happened twice more. All three times, he showed up, talked with you for a little bit, and asked a question on what you thought of a particular issue. Sometimes, it was still with the Second Army, and sometimes it was with the opportunities presented to the Grisha at the Little Palace itself. He seemed intrigued to hear what classes were like, saying how he had heard you were one of the best Squallers there were. You had smiled at that, and his eyes had glinted like a hound about to take down his prey.

That was the third visit, the most recent visit. You’re walking back to your quarters now, unable to keep a slight grin from your face. This is it, isn’t it? This is how you make your way from the classrooms of the Little Palace to the battlefield, to a real chance to do something different. When you open your doors, Zoya is propped up in an armchair inside, although this does not surprise you. You’ve long since given her free reign of all that is yours.

She looks up at you, a question already bubbling up in her inquisitive glance. “What’s got you so excited?” She’s never been able to miss a detail, has she? You can’t seem to tuck your smile away. “I’ve been speaking to General Kirigan, three times now. I think he might be on the verge of offering me a job in the Second Army.” You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting from Zoya- an expression of surprise, maybe some congratulatory words. Whatever you thought might happen, you were certainly not expecting her to stand up, face twisted in something that looked almost like fear and anger.

“You can’t do that. You should avoid him as much as possible.” Your feet stall from where you’d been crossing the room to her. “What are you talking about?” Zoya shakes her head, almost manic. “You should stay away from him. What did he tell you?” This, coming from your closest friend when you’d been so excited, is enough to make your happiness start to leach from you, replaced by a cold bewilderment and betrayal. “What does it matter? Zoya, this could be my future.”

Zoya seems unwilling to hear you out. “Tell me what he said, Y/N. You can’t trust a word he says.” You scoff. “I’m not a fool, Zoya. I know what he said, and none of it was a trick. He spoke to me like a friend, and last time he talked to me about potential openings within the Grisha ranks. I could have a position. Isn’t that excellent?” Zoya shakes her head once more. “It’s a trick. He won’t give you anything. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to believe what he says?”

You draw back from her now, all traces of excitement gone from you. “Why are you saying this? Maybe I don’t know if he truly means it or not, but you don’t know anything about this. Saints, I thought you might actually be happy for me.” Zoya almost winces at that. “I’m not- I would be happy for you if I thought this was something real, Y/N, but it’s not. Nothing is with him.” You can feel yourself rising up in anger. “Oh, and you would know about that, wouldn’t you? From all of the time you spent with him? Are you truly doubtful, Zoya, or do you just not want me to be involved with him because you don’t want me to have anything that you hadn’t had first?”

The words are coming out faster now, one after the other. Truth be told, it’s almost good to hear them aloud after so long keeping them inside. “I never had a problem with you being first in class, first in everything. I never will, but I assumed that you would extend that same courtesy to me. Why is it that we’re friends in everything, but the second I seem to get some sort of headway, you have to prove it wrong? Can’t I have anything that isn’t yours already?”

Zoya draws back as if you’ve slapped her. “That’s not how I feel. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” You want to laugh. “This is how you keep me safe? By taking everything away from me until I’m only in your shadow and nowhere else?” Zoya flings her hands in the air. “If it means he doesn’t get his hooks in you, yes! I would rather have you stay here forever than lose you.” You look at her, unbelieving. “And why is that? Because we’re such good friends that you’d trade my future for my complacency?”

Zoya’s voice is soft now, barely there at all. “Because I cannot stand to lose you. Because I love you, Saints damn it, and I’d rather have you hate me than never have you at all.” You stand there for a second, then another, then another. Your breath is sharp and harsh in your chest, but you cannot seem to say a single word. You try for a few, anyway. “You love me?” She nods once. “Yes.”

You do laugh now, incredulous. “Why didn’t you say so, you idiot? I love you too.” She looks almost surprised. “I thought- I thought you just wanted to be friends.” You shrug. All of your anger is receding away from you now, washing back into the banks after a flood. “I did, because I thought that’s all you wanted. I didn’t want to make it seem like I was only your friend because I had feelings for you.” Zoya stands there for a moment, then something almost like a sigh comes from her and she steps forward, wrapping her arms around you. “You generous, impossible fool. I can’t stand you.” You laugh, returning her embrace. “Of course not. You love me.”

requested by @villnella​

grishaverse tag list: someone who would be my squaller bestie @underc0vercryptid​, @darlinggbrekker, @cameronsails​, @aleksanderwh0r3​

[five-rivers]

Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt:  Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately.  There was something in the atmosphere, almost.  It felt… lighter, maybe?  

He didn’t like it.  

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion.  The tendency had saved his life multiple times.  Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost.  Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with.  Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him.  Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often.  Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha.  He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one.  Skipped school and everything.  The whole high school experience.  Ha.  

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.  

He sighed, heavily.  Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding).  Stock up on supplies.  Get ready to weather a storm.  Literal or metaphorical.  

But hiding out in the cave was so boring.  There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah.  Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah.  Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts.  It was pretty empty around here.  

Just like Flynn’s heart.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  That was a good one.  

Eh.  Life wasn’t so bad.  He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time.  Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof.  Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity.  And not having a concussion.  Or losing any more teeth.  

But, back to his original topic.  

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe.  Was it directly Flynn’s problem?  No.  The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.  

Flynn recognized that.  Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom.  But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.  

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger.  Who knew what could come out of a portal?  At least according to the ghosts he talked to.  Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.  

This was going to suck so much.  

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary.  Which he had read.  Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck.  He could take one ghost.  Three? Yeah.  Not a chance.  

Maybe they’d leave?  They couldn’t know for sure he was here.  With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.  

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.  

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again.  He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either.  No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.  

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.  

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait.  They weren’t.  Flynn would know.  He’d made many unbelievable jokes.  They’d never attracted anything but groans.  

Ha.  

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost.  “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.  

“We don’t have any choice about her, though.  Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.  

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out.  Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn.  Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him.  The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago.  At least a decade.  

But he did scream.  Loudly.  Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all.  He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.  

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages.  “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.”  He examined his fingernails.  “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.  

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate.  Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.”  He eyed the eyeballs.  

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.  

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.  

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork.  “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn.  He adjusted his grip on his staff.  “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face.  “No.  Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby.  Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.  

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip.  Hard.  Okay. He wasn’t dreaming.  And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway?  Flynn was nothing.  He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.  

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.  

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands.  “Then let us away to the castle.”

.

Well.  That was certainly a castle.  Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.  

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house.  Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.  

Or even hole, when compared to all this.  Dear god, this place was fancy.  

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.  

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin.  You are not underdressed.  

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings.  “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost.  “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.  

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one.  I will collect you for dinner in three hours.  Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.  

… There would be curtains, right?  This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.  

He opened the door.  

Lots of curtains.  Lovely.

No, really.  It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains.  He might be crying.  

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft.  He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy.  Filthy.  Covered in years’ worth of grime.  He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.  

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath.  He was craving a human-safe bath.  With clean water and soap.  

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes?  Toothpaste?  Unrestrained luxury.  

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter.  The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.  

There was a sink.  

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.  

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.  

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water.  Because he made it so, so dirty.  He sank into the water, up to his chin.  

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause.  Because it was always a lost cause.  Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.  

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available.  He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one.  Were there ghost dentists?  There had to be ghost dentists.  They had a lot of teeth.  A lot of teeth.  Sharp, scary, teeth.  

Ugh.  His baby cousin was a ghost.  He’d probably have teeth like a shark.  When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all.  Because.  Baby. Little, tiny, baby.  

Who Flynn barely knew.  

Why did he even want Flynn?  Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?  

Ghosts were weird.  Anything could be possible.  

He flopped face-first onto the bed.  His bed?  His temporary and maybe permanent bed.  If he was allowed to stay here.  

Oh, gosh.  Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals.  Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?  

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?  

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.  

(Dad?  Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed.  But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.  

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now.  He was living in the scariest place out of the world.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe.  Oh, boy. Many clothes.  He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store.  Incredible.  

They were so fancy, too.  He didn’t know how to choose.  

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.  

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed.  Some of them looked cool.  And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.  

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear.  Wow.  It had been a while.  

.

Okay.  The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice.  Like, no nap nice.  

He wanted to take a nap.  

But no nap was occurring.  

The bed was too soft.  Ugh.  This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.  

He groaned.  He hadn’t thought that was real.  He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama.  Or something.  

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.  

Maybe he could sleep here.  

.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover.  What cover? Oh.  Bed.  That was the bed.  He was in the room.  In the castle.  The ghost king’s castle.  

His baby cousin’s castle.  

He was going to cry.  This was so weird.  

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand.  Which.  Might not have been the best of ideas.  But, hey, he was dressed now.  

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle.  Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there.  One of his eyebrows went up.  “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down.  Orange and green went fine together.  What was he talking about?  

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.  

“Come, now.  Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back.  At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.  

He decided not to do that.  Running away wasn’t his style.  

(Who was he kidding?  That was definitely his style.  He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing.  Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.  

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled.  “Only the future.”  He swung the large, gilded door open.  

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates.  There were a small group of children beyond it.  One of them waved at him.  Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.  

[ashenpages]

☯ Kallus. Because I’m an enabler.

This took me a while because I was worried that maybe I would be missing context since I haven't quite finished Rebels yet!

But, I've been reassured that my understanding of him is about as complete as it's going to get, so here we go!

I think Kallus has an insatiable curiosity. He doesn't like not knowing things. Knowledge is power, and he prides himself on being well informed. While this served him well in his time at the academy (star pupil, I believe they called him?), I think it's also served him well in becoming Fulcrum.

See, the thing about curiosity is that it goes both ways. He wants to know everything about military tactics? Awesome. That means he has an interest in weaponry that the Empire doesn't use too, because he's inevitably going to run up against it.

He likes learning about weapons. He likes learning about other races and species and planets. And all of it's sanctioned by the Empire because it's under the guise of intelligence recon.

But it's definitely more, no matter how much Kallus might explain it away as just doing his job.

This is how I think he was able to beat a Lasat warrior in combat and why the Lasat bestowed the bo-rifle on him. That wouldn't have happened if Kallus hadn't been worthy. Even Zeb can't argue with it.

As much as Kallus has been explaining away things he doesn't like about his job (like the massacre on Lasan), he can't keep doing it after his encounter with Zeb on the ice moon.

Now that curiosity is focused on the Empire, and seeing it for what it is. It was never about bringing "order", it was always about control and power and subjugation. And the curiosity that led to Kallus knowing everything about Zeb that was on file before they even crash-landed on the ice moon is now turned to finding every shred of information he can that will help him out-maneuver the Empire and feed the Rebellion.

Once he's free, I think Kallus has an easier idea figuring out what he "likes" and what he "dislikes."

It becomes clear that he likes strategy games. He enjoys playful banter, with those that he's allowed to engage in it with. I imagine that circle expands as he relaxes, but to begin with, I'm sure it's just Zeb and only because Zeb initiates it (because Zeb's love language is kindly traded jibes and challenges--another reason I love it when he and Sabine pair up for missions, because Sabine always rises to any challenge Zeb can toss at her).

I think he likes poetry and beautiful prose. He's so well spoken, and his delivery is always nearly lyrical. I think even when he was in the empire that he had contraband on his personal datapad. All in the interest of understanding his adversaries, of course, but now that he doesn't need to justify it, he can admit that he always found the words beautiful and their call to something greater moving.

I don't think he would know how to relax enough to enjoy dancing, at first, but I think he would enjoy something like a structured line dance where there's a form to it that even he can follow. Once he's comfortable there, I think he might enjoy learning to embellish, and with an encouraging partner, might expand from there. He might do well with dance-like sparring too, given his familiarity with combat. I'd love to write about Lasat bo-rifle dance forms or something--once I find time in my writing rotation.

I think he LOVES music. Once he's allowed to have it, I can see him never passing up an opportunity to attend live events, even if he's only on the fringes. I think he could be pulled into simple instrumentation as well. Stomping, clapping, hitting something rhythmically. I think he'd like getting to be part of it.

I think Kallus loves people. For all that he's been alone and fairly isolated in his time at the Empire, I think he's always longed for a community. I think for a while--specifically when he's acting as Fulcrum--that he thinks he has to earn the right to one. I'm not sure if he thinks he'll ever get there. But I know he wanted to defend the community Zeb talked about to the last. I'm happy he didn't get self-sacrificial about it, though, and he did his best to survive when it became apparent that he couldn't serve as Fulcrum anymore.

I think he hates being lied to. And, honestly, after his experiences with the Empire, I think he might be pretty sensitive to it. Even white lies that don't seem like a big deal might get his heart rate up and make his breathing tight. I think it's something he'll need some gentleness and reassurance to work through.

For some reason, I don't think he likes spicy food? I think he likes tart and bitter, but spicy is just too much for him. He'll eat it anyway (food is food, and he was taught not to be picky), but I think he likes fruit and foods like stew and pickles more than spicy things. Maybe he can find a Lasat who likes spicy things that he can pawn his not-so-favored morsels off on eventually...

I think he likes not having to slick back his hair and shave all the time too. Appearance was something he needed to use as a weapon while he was with the Empire. It was part of his arsenal. Now, it's just whatever he likes--and whatever gets Zeb to nuzzle him.

Last but not least, I think he likes Zeb. ;)

I personally love to fill the time between the S3 finale and the first episode of S4 with Zeb being the one who sits Kallus down to tend to his injuries.

It's interesting how much of their relationship is in the fringes. After "An Inside Man," it's clear that the group knows that Fulcrum is Kallus. In "Warhead," that means it's possible that Zeb knows that the communication he's having with Fulcrum is indeed with Kallus. He continues to use the code name in that episode. But in "Zero Hour," when the Fulcrum symbol shows up on the Ghost's bridge from Kallus's distress call, Zeb shouts, "It's Kallus!"

To me, that betrays a certain level of emotion.

I think Zeb and Kallus have been thinking about each other a lot since the ice moon. Heck, I think they were thinking about each other a lot before the ice moon, just in a different way. For Kallus, he needed to know who this surviving Lasat warrior was. For Zeb, he needed to get that bo-rifle back from the Imperial scum that didn't deserve it. Then a lot changed on the ice moon. And since then, I think they've attached their thoughts of each other to private moments of longing and daydreaming.

So when Zeb finally has a chance to check in on Kallus again, he takes it. He's a Lasat warrior, after all. He knows how to treat wounds as well as he knows how to give them. Zeb is definitely highlighted for his physical prowess most in the show, but there are a lot of skills I'm sure he has as both a warrior and a rebel that we don't get to see on screen. Treating injuries and rigging gear are two of them.

I think Kallus is too tired to resist those big, strong, and surprising gentle hands. It's not something that I think would get handsy or even that either of them would get a kiss out of, but I think it would be tender and grounding. I have a lot of passing daydreams about spoken reassurances and Kallus falling asleep in Zeb's arms that night (with Kanan bungling Ezra away into his room for the night to give Kallus and Zeb some space and privacy).

From there, I imagine a lot of intimacy, but also a lot of fear of overstepping, and for everyone on the Ghost to be like "JUST KISS!!!" before it actually happens.

They're just so tender and sweet and stupid and I love them.

Thanks for sending me this ask.

If you have others you want me to talk about, you can pick a symbol from this ask game I've reblogged.

[free-falling-grenade]

Promt: raya sees namaari sparring/having fun with her closest friend from fang (which is a girl her age) and gets jealous and competes with said friend for namaari's attention, even though namaari and her friend have no idea what's happening.

With @killjo-qartz permission, I borrowed her OC, Somwang for a cameo in this fic! Hope I got her characterization kind of right & didn't butcher her. (I'll take it down if you don't like it) Can read in ao3 or keep reading down here 🤙🏽: Anger wasn’t new to Raya. She had lived through it within the six years of being alone. Used it as fuel to get through her encounters with bandits and mercenaries alike, to leave them begging for mercy. Used it to push through every obstacle in her way to prove each of these damned binturis wrong in this cruel, broken world. Anger was comfort as misery was company, that flowed like blood in her veins, reminding her that if she couldn’t use hope to live, then at least she had rage to build her up. If she couldn’t feel anything else, then why not let anger take control. However, as comfortable negative emotions could be, its goal was to bring anyone down.

However, as comfortable negative emotions could be, its goal was to bring anyone down. The princess of Heart stood warily outside the training grounds, her patience ran out while waiting for Namaari to finish her princess duties. They hadn’t seen each other for a while. Her own duties at Heart taking over most of her schedule, it was utterly grueling and overwhelming. When her Ba gave her the window of opportunity to take a break, she did not hesitate to flee and visit Fang, since in all honesty, she didn’t have close enough friends in Heart. Sisu was busy with her siblings, and she really didn’t know if she wanted to see the rest of the crew who were probably busy with their own families. Plus, if she was being honest to herself, she just really wanted to see the Fang princess. Her feelings had become clear, the burst of realization came upon her during a council gathering as she was lost in admiring the Fang princess instead of paying attention to the monotonous negotiations and arguments that was going on across the meeting hall. Everything becoming muted as she watched how Namaari seemingly managed to quiet down the Chiefs with her compelling and confident voice, her point somehow settling the previous argument they were having. But it wasn’t exactly that that made the Heart princess realize, no. It was the look right after they had move onto another topic of discussion, Namaari had turned to catch her gaze, her eyes speaking volumes of the actual anxiety it held after her speech. But her features instantly softened as she sent Raya the warmest smile Kumandra could offer, her body relaxing from her stiff posture as the Heart princess returned the smile as equally loving. The Fang princess somehow beamed brighter. Raya knew right there and then that she wanted to have that woman. To jump over the table and kiss that smile on her face, if it would taste like how it felt when she saw it. After that day, her emotions had been all over the place. Her heart had yearned for the other princess’ presence like a thirsty traveler to water. She needed her, she was unsure how healthy that need was. Hence why she stood outside Fang’s training grounds hoping to get some of her frustrations out of the way. However, at her arrival, she found that it only seemed to tremendously increase. She leaned by the entry way, her arms crossed as she eyed the two occupants suspiciously. Their laughs had echoed through the hall, the sound distasteful to her ears, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She glanced at the taller and even more defined warrior of the two, one she didn’t expect anyone else to have a well physique like the Fang princess, but she stood there towering over Namaari, looking closely as sturdy as a Spine guard, a bright grin on her face as she charged at the princess lifting her up from her torso and throwing her over shoulder. The laugh that had come out of the Fang princess Raya had only heard when they were together. Her heart painfully clenched inside her, her stomach churning unpleasantly and the corner of her lips falling downwards. “Put me down, Somwang!” Namaari complained, but there was an obvious lightness in her voice. The sturdy warrior, Somwang, listened to the order and gently placed the princess down on her feet. Her arm remained around her waist, the furrow on Raya’s brows just deepened, her grip on her bicep tightening. She remained still, quietly scrutinizing every move Somwang made as she made Namaari carelessly laugh and grin freely unlike her personality towards her other guards which usually came off as polite and civil. The Heart princess remembered something her Ba used to tell her before her bedtime at a younger age, when she had used to complain about others having their own mothers, how she would throw bitter angry words at them, words she shouldn’t even know. Or when she overheard about some Tail people purposely attacking their trade ships to steal their produce and goods that was for their people. Or Fang, their worst enemy refusing to share their medicine expertise to

their land causing a great amount of people to die. Or simply when her Ba decided to court some older lady and spent more time with her instead. She asked her Ba why she felt so angry when other people were happy, when other people had it better, or when the people she cared about felt happier even when she wasn’t there. He would say, “Dewdrop. Anger, resentment, and jealousy doesn’t change the heart of others – it only changes yours. It is never wise to seek or wish for another’s misfortune because everyone deserves to be happy. Jealousy is just drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. So don’t let it take over you, okay?” However, Raya couldn’t help the way her anger was bubbling over her. She shouldn’t be jealous because Namaari wasn’t hers to claim. She wasn’t even an object to claim, and she had every right to be happy with anyone else. She was allowed to have friends, she did have that chance, compared to her who didn’t. But why was it that her heart twisted when she thought she was the only one blessed to see that smile on the Fang princess’ face, or how she thought she was the only one capable to let her relax and laugh the way she did. She didn’t know Namaari let other people touch her further than a handshake.

The lump in her throat grew as she watched them longer. Her jaw clenched and her teeth gritted harshly. She felt the familiar anger flowing through her veins, reminding her what she had used as fuel to get rid of any obstacle out of her way. She felt things too deeply, it was how she had always been, to feel each and every bit of it so she could use it as energy to punch her way out. Her body was buzzing with the need to hurt, her blunt nails digging through her palms with force willing herself to ride the anger out. She took in a sharp breath, her fist clenching with the inhale and unclenching as she exhales. She willed herself to turn around from the sight but just as she was about to walk away, a voice pulled her back. “Raya! You’re here.” Namaari’s voice contained a hint of excitement. The Heart princess immediately swallowed the bile in her throat, letting out a smile that only came naturally because of the other princess’ beaming expression, otherwise she didn’t know how to explain the grimace that would’ve come out instead as her eyes spared a glance at the tall figure beside the warrior. Raya felt the other girl’s penetrating gaze piercing through her, but she kept her attention at Namaari as she slowly approached them. “Hey, dep la” She purposely spoke out enchantingly, or at least she hoped so.

Her flirting skills lacked incredibly so, and she was way too embarrassed to admit that to anyone. Although, Sisu had called her out on it during the times she tried to woo the Fang princess, but it never got through. The way Namaari’s smile grew told her enough it worked. She pushed back the urge to bite her lip and pull her close. “Are you up for a spar?” Namaari offered, her cat like grin challenging her. Raya would usually say yes but her gaze shifted to the sturdy woman beside her, “Actually, I saw you guys sparring earlier. I want to challenge your friend into a spar instead” Somwang narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the Heart princess, sensing the slight tenacity in her words. Her polite smile slightly wavering as their gazes turned heated. “Actually, she’s my—" “I accept your challenge, Princess Raya.” The taller warrior spoke up, cutting off Namaari entirely. Her attention was now too fixated on the Heart princess. The Fang warrior stepped closer, raising a hand out for Raya to shake, “I’m Somwang, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you” The princess sensed the sarcasm in her voice, her lips tugging into a mirthless grin. “Likewise,” Even if I wasn’t told of your existence. She wanted to say but bit her tongue. She raised her own hand to shake the warrior’s, her grip purposely hardening. She was fully aware the other woman was twice her size, but she was taught not to let her enemies physique dull her chances on winning. Her fighting style specifically aimed towards people who were bigger than her. Somwang returned the firm grip, her own shit-eating grin on her face, “Hand-to-hand or would you prefer weapons?” She asked as she scanned her petite body full of judgment. The condescending tone struck a nerve on the Heart princess, her eye twitching as she held her stare looking up the warrior, “Hand-to-hand is perfectlyfine” She exclaimed sarcastically. She might regret this later, but she wasn’t about to let brawn and no brains binturi get to her. Namaari stood there, her face scrunching up at the sudden tension in the room. She was beyond confused but she guessed it was just both of the people’s traits of being competitive. She shrugged it off stepping back to let them do their thing. Raya finally let go of the warrior’s hand, her skin buzzing from the touch. She felt the anger boiling in her veins, her heartbeat increasing rapidly at the rush of adrenaline that surged through her skin. She hadn’t faced a big challenge like this in a long time. She was glad for the further training from Namaari herself and her Ba. She had been doing a lot to improve her hand-to-hand, the meat in her bones also had returned from the proper nutrition she was now receiving compared to the six years alone. Her mind flashing through the match against Namaari in Spine. Her body lacking the nourishment was a huge disadvantage at her strength, she may be good at weaving her sword, but she wasn’t that great with the strength needed in hand combat. She strived to be better from then on.

She stretched her limbs as she watched the Fang warrior step back a few steps, she cracked her knuckles then proceeded to a fighting stance. “You both know the rules” Namaari reminded. The Heart princess seemingly had forgotten that she was there and why exactly she was doing this, the excitement was coursing through her veins. She got into her fight stance nodding, her eyes narrowing mischievously at the sturdy woman in front of her who matched the same fiery in her gaze. As the Fang princess signaled the start, Raya didn’t hesitate to charge first. Her legs had been impatient throughout the day, aching to be moved. She raised her fist feigning a swing, the Fang warrior instinctively moving to block it, but Raya grinned as she used her speed to slide in between the other woman’s spread legs. She quickly scrambled up and used the distraction to kick her in the back forcefully causing her to stumble frontwards on her knees. “Oops. Sorry, khun Bulky.” She taunted jokingly eliciting a slight snicker from the Fang princess on the sidelines. Raya charged once again ready to kick but Somwang rolled on the floor catching her foot on time. She locked her grip on her ankle tripping her in the process then pulled her towards her fist as she swung to punch. The Heart princess blocked it in time, but the impact of the strike caused her to inwardly flinch. She managed to use her other foot to kick the warrior’s face, freeing her ankle as she scooted backwards to stand. Somwang stood along with her charging with a series of well calculated punches that she dodged swiftly. She acknowledged the force behind her jabs, each blow she blocked leaving a pleasantly painful feeling around her arms. But the slow speed in which it came she used to her advantage to slip her own fast blows on her midsection. “You are annoyingly fast” Raya heard the Fang warrior grumble under her breath. A cocky grin made its way to her lips, she was about to spurt out another retort, but the short distraction was enough for her to feel a terribly harsh blow on her cheek that was definitely going to leave a mark. She temporarily saw white spots clouding her vision, but quickly blinked them off as she backflipped away from the next punch. She ran her tongue inside of her cheek, tasting the copper in her mouth. She grinned in delight at the burning sensation, “And you’re annoyingly tough.” The Heart princess charged once again, she used the other warrior’s towering height to her advantage as she stepped on her thighs using it to boost herself up letting the tip of her boot kick her under her chin with much force. She flipped back over quickly before spinning around throwing a roundhouse kick on the side of the warrior’s cheek. The tall woman stumbled to the side clumsily, the impact momentarily pausing her movements. The satisfaction buzzed through Raya’s body, giving her time to get her bearings. Usually, she would have ended the fight, but she was having too much fun. Long gone was the anger that fueled her, instead replaced with a questionable excitement. “Don’t tell me your body is just for show. I didn’t know the princess of Fang associates herself with walking tree trunks” The familiar eccentric laugh she heard behind her caused the hairs in her body to stand, the goosebumps on her skin spreading happily. She watched the sturdy warrior in front of her chuckle lightly as she wiped the dripping blood of her cut lip. She didn’t reply, instead charging at Raya with newly found strength, her punches landing ruthlessly this time, the princess’ blocks slightly wavering. She used her fatigue against her as she pushed her elbows away and jabbed her right on the abdomen. The Heart princess huffed in irritation, her chest heaving after the strong blow on her stomach, stumbling backwards. The warrior kept going, striking and kicking her vigorously as she hastily flipped, spun, and dodged her strikes. How persistent. Raya thought to herself. She inwardly sighed, deciding it was time to end the match. She backflipped away once

more, making sure there’s enough distance to do her final trick she had learned from the princess of Fang herself. “You are one slippery and bouncy binturi, Princess gremlin.” The genuine smirk on Somwang’s lips caught her off guard. Raya narrowed her eyes but let an honest smile tug on her lips, “You’re not so bad yourself, khun giant” She dashed to her, raising her arms to feign more punches. Luckily to her prediction, Somwang steeled herself, ready to block, and possibly to grab her ankle again if she used it to kick. The Heart princess just scoffed, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She used her momentum to boost herself up into a jump, tangling her thighs around the Fang warrior’s neck before bringing her pelvis forward, her hands coming up to the floor using all her body strength to flip her tall, heavy figure over. Somwang landed with a loud thud and skidded behind her, her back arching in pain, her chest heaving as she stayed motionless on the floor. Raya walked over the fallen warrior, locking her arms in between both of her feet before crouching down, a victorious smirk on her lips. Somwang blinked blankly at the princess above her, her face flushed at the sudden proximity. “You’re pretty—" The Fang warrior started but was cut off. “—pretty good. You’re not wrong”

The warrior scoffed grinning, “That too but I mean, you are pretty.” Raya raised a brow curiously, taken aback at the sudden compliment, “Maari, I get it now” The warrior called out, twisting her head to face the Fang princess on the sidelines. Namaari’s eyes widened at what the other girl was insinuating but before she could say something, the Heart princess met her gaze, the words refused to leave her mouth then. Raya just slyly smiled before standing up and offering a hand to the Fang warrior under her. She gladly took it dusting herself off as she stretched her now pained limbs. “You are no joke, Princess.” Somwang commended, this time her look held no tenacious intent. Raya suddenly felt guilty for the previous ill thoughts she had against the warrior. She shrugged shyly, an apologetic look crossing her face, “Sorry for beating you up.” The sturdy woman raised a hand to wave her off, “No lasting damage. Plus, I think that was probably a perfect way to go.” The corner of her lips forming a smirk as she winked at the Heart princess. Raya blinked in surprise, her cheeks slightly coloring pink. Namaari, who finally joined them, grimaced at the comment, playfully shoving Somwang away, “Okay, match over” The Fang princess stepped closer to Raya reaching for now bruised hands and arms, “I’m sorry about my cousin. We should probably get your bruises treated” She spoke softly. The Heart princess flushed as she felt Namaari’s hands reach up to her cheek where Somwang had punched her forcefully, her thumb caressing the tender spot. She felt her heart doing somersaults as she instinctively leaned to the touch. She let out a tired sigh until the other princess’ words just processed in her brain. “Wait, she’s your cousin?” She blurted out before she could even think about it. Namaari quirked an eyebrow but nodded, her hand falling back down. Raya instantly missed the feeling. Somwang popped up from behind the Fang princess, a goofy grin on her face as she wrapped an arm around Namaari’s neck pulling her into a deadlock and ruffling the top of her neatly combed hair. “Yep. This kid is my cousin. I can’t believe we’re related sometimes because of how uptight she is.” The tall warrior stated as she casually smiles back at Raya while not even struggling at Namaari’s attempt to pull free from her grip. The Heart princess gaped in bewilderment. She felt the dread and guilt swimming through her body as she recalled her foolish actions for even thinking poorly about the other woman in the first place. She let out a huff of relief and shame, running a hand over her face. The Fang princess managed to jab her cousin hard enough in the stomach causing her to let go, she pushed her away fixing her shirt and adjusting her hair back in place as properly as she could. She turned to Raya, her forehead creased in concern, carefully grabbing her hand to gain her attention, “I was going to tell you, but Somwang here cut me off earlier and you guys were too focused on the spar to listen.” She tried to explain. Raya felt her squeeze her hand to emphasize, she offered back an understanding look. Somwang frowned wrapping her arms around her stomach, “That hurt you know. Your girlfriend already beat me up pretty damn well. Also, I can never turn down a challenge. She was more of a challenge then you are when we spar” She purposely jested, her vexing grin causing Namaari to twist her head and scowl at her, heat rushing to her cheeks. Before the Fang princess could comment and correct her, she felt Raya interlock their fingers, “She’s right, dep la. You’re losing your touch. I think that spar was the most fun I had in a while.” The Heart princess ignored the way her heart fluttered at the word girlfriend, a hopeful part of her mind celebrating the possibility that other people saw them that way even if it weren’t true. Namaari threw a betrayed look at her, she didn’t know how to feel about both of her favorite people ganging up on her. The sturdy warrior forcefully clapped Raya’s back causing her to stumble a

little, the blow leaving a stinging feeling behind her, “I think I don’t mind you as much now. You’re fun, Princess” Somwang complimented, cheerfully grinning. “I don’t know what Namaari told you about me, but I can assure you, they’re only partly true.” Somwang lets out a good-natured belly laugh, the Fang princess grimacing as she glanced between the two, “I can beat you both up if I wanted to” It was a weak retort, they all knew it, but she wasn’t about to let them team up. “You wouldn’t stand a chance, Náwng.”

The Fang princess simply rolled her eyes. She gripped back Raya’s hand tightly, before turning away and dragging her out, leaving Somwang’s protests behind them in the air. The Heart princess flushed at the warmth that spread through her body at the touch, the doubt in her mind slowly fading at the possibility of Namaari returning her feelings. Maybe she was wrong, energy wasted on jealousy. The Fang princess didn’t hold anyone else’s hand the way she held hers. A part of her couldn’t help but be thrilled at that revelation. They finally slowed down once they were far enough from the training grounds, Namaari’s hold on her hand still solid. She smiled quietly to herself, enjoying the comfortable silence as they strolled past the garden. “Sorry if I took too long. I know I said I’ll meet up with you, but I got pulled back by Somwang forcing me to spar with her for a while.” Namaari bashfully explained. Raya shrugged, “That’s okay. I happen to stumble by you anyway.” “You sure you weren’t just looking for me, dep la?” The Heart princess playfully shoved her, “You wish. I was itching for a spar. Good thing you guys were already there.” Namaari hummed, a knowing smirk on her lips, “Speaking of, since when did you learn to copy my move?” She asked recalling the last trick Raya had pulled against Somwang.

She was surprised she even managed to flip the sturdy half Spine woman over. Her strength left her wondering what else she could do with it, Somwang’s comment about it being the perfect way to go echoing in her head. “Why? Want me to try it out on you?” Raya raised a teasing brow twisting her head to look at the Fang princess who was fighting back the blush on her cheeks. She knew she failed when the other princess’ smirk just widened. Namaari cleared her throat an idea popping in her head, “I mean it’s only fair. I wouldn’t mind you returning the favor” She managed to quip back almost hesitating at the stimulating thought. However, she grinned victoriously at the widening eyes of the princess. The highly suggestive tone in her voice caused Raya’s heart rate to spike up, sinful actions flashing through her head. She licked her lips unconsciously, her teeth grazing the bottom as she imagined the feeling of her face between – Raya caught herself immediately, shaking away her thoughts as she swallowed to dampen her drying throat. She turned away from the Fang princess, her gaze focused on path in front of them but her mind reeling back to the way her hands felt under her fingers and how it would feel to explore further parts of her body like how she explored the whole of Kumandra.

She really needed to find a way to confess first, asap. -x- Oops, that's a long one. Sorry 🤷🏽‍♀️ Anyway. Hope you liked it, anon!

[texanredrose]

Showing Off

Inspired by prompts submitted to @unsteadyshade on tumblr (here), that I reblogged earlier, or AO3 (here). Also, yes, I'm very much American but I decided to use the non-American lingo in regards to soccer here. Don't look at me expecting logic, my friends, I just do what the winds of whimsy tell me.

---

Blake pulled the hotel door shut behind her, following after her teammate and best friend who was further down the hall and carrying their tote bags. While she didn’t hold the same superstitious beliefs, Yang swore up and down they’d lose unless they brought along their ‘lucky’ practice ball; after going back to retrieve it, the woman seemed satisfied and started walking towards the elevator while Blake caught up. “This is ridiculous, you know that right?”

“Hey, don’t sass me; we’ve never lost a road game when we’ve had the ball,” Yang said, already wearing her keeper jersey, the material stretched a bit thin over her muscled frame. It had seen better days but, much like the ball, the woman refused to replace it, especially during their run up to the championship. “A little extra luck can’t hurt anyone. Except the other team, I guess.”

“It can make us late, though,” she said, one of her ears flicking back as one of the doors they passed opened and closed- had to be other patrons of the hotel, seeing as the rest of their team was already downstairs by the bus. “Which would mean we forfeit.”

“We’re not running that late,” Yang replied, throwing a grin her way. Then, lilac eyes were drawn behind them and lingered a moment before her lips pulled into a very specific smirk. Blake knew that smirk- it was the ‘oh, I’ve got an idea, you might not like it but you’re gonna do it’ expression, because aside from being one of the best keepers in the region, Yang Xiao Long was also ridiculously persuasive. Dangerously so, in fact. “Hey. Toss me the ball.”

“Your hands are full.”

“Wasn’t going to use my hands.”

Blake narrowed her eyes, vividly remembering the last time someone tried doing agility drills down a hotel hallway, and picked up on the subtle look behind them. After a few more steps, she turned to say something about the game to Yang as an excuse to glance behind them. And then, it all made sense.

A bit further down the hallway were two women, both of whom were dressed in sharp business attire, and the moment Blake returned her attention to Yang, she pointed at herself and mouthed the word ‘tall’ with a wink.

“C’mon, toss me the ball,” Yang said, coming to a stop.

Blake glanced at her watch and, although a touch reluctant, decided they had enough time for a little demonstration. Tossing the ball towards Yang, she stepped back to lean against the wall while the woman started juggling while still carrying both totes. With her best friend as a distraction, Blake could take a longer look at the women Yang was trying to impress, and realized a few things, chiefly: they weren’t just any business women following behind them.

They were the Schnee sisters.

Atlesian elites, borderline nobility, some of the richest and most powerful people in the world; the Schnee sisters were in the news for one reason or another practically every day. Blake was more familiar with the attitude and mentality of the younger sister, Weiss Schnee, because it was her actions that Blake, as a faunus, found most… interesting. All the way up until she assumed control of her family’s company, the woman didn’t seem much at odds with the stuffy, bigoted, narrow minded people found in her social circle. After, though, she not only did an unapologetic one-eighty in the other direction, she became so aggressively progressive that it created a wide schism in the highest echelons of Atlesian society. More than once, she’d deployed the surprisingly well equipped private SDC security forces to protect protestors from Atlesian police and military personnel, and paid an exorbitant amount of money to keep those protestors out of jail, either by paying off bonds or hiring attorneys. In a relatively short amount of time, she’d become a juggernaut for social changes, and the careful monopoly her scheming father had built became the ultimate tool for exacting those changes.

Blake could admire the woman’s sense of justice as well as her commitment to it.

The elder, though, she only knew by name. Winter Schnee stood on her sister’s side when it came to social issues and did something tangentially related to the SDC but, beyond that, the details were a blur. She’d never heard Yang mention either sister in anything more than a passing comment while they pursued the news together waiting for flights, certainly nothing she could recall that would explain why the woman wanted Winter’s attention specifically. However, it also wasn’t out of the ordinary for Yang to show off a bit for pretty ladies when presented the opportunity.

By the time Blake had made a decision herself, Yang had run through every trick she knew and had popped the ball up to balance on her chest. She motioned for the woman to pass the ball, which earned her a raised brow at first before lilac eyes twinkled and she popped her shoulders back to set the ball in motion.

Blake caught it before it hit the ground with her foot, stalling the ball’s momentum entirely for a moment before she began juggling herself. For her, it was less a skill she’d developed for showing off as one of honing control of her body and the ball, but she knew a few tricks, moving slightly away from the wall so she could juggle the ball in a circle around her while still facing Yang. It meant juggling with her heel behind her back briefly but she managed it without losing control and that prompted a low murmur from their audience. Impressively, she couldn’t make out the words, which made her think the speaker specifically didn’t want her to hear.

After transitioning between using her feet and knees, the faunus popped the ball up high enough for her head to get under it, her feline ears laying flat against her skull to prove she wasn’t using them to help her balance the ball in place, which earned a brief chuckle from Yang. Then, she began bouncing it atop her head while moving her head just so to get the ball rotating before allowing it to roll off her head so she could catch it with her foot.

With a glance to confirm Yang was prepared, Blake passed her the ball, and the two of them traded it for a while, trying to catch the other off guard to make the eventual save and pass even more impressive. It was a show of control and dexterity and, had they planned it, would’ve had a better end to the display. Unfortunately, a short pass from Yang resulted in both of them trying to save it, which sent the ball bouncing harmlessly down the hall until it came to a stop at Winter’s feet.

Then again, given the glint in Yang’s eye, perhaps that was her intention. “Oh, sorry about that. We’re just… warming up.”

With a jerk of her head, the faunus realized her friend was requesting some back-up. “Yes, we, uh… are on our way to a game. The semi-finals, actually.”

“We can probably get ya seats, if you want.” A nonchalant shrug. “You should come watch us play.”

The sisters exchanged a look then. The elder, questioning, and the younger… Blake couldn’t put a word to that look. It was equal parts goading and secretive, and perhaps something else dancing in blue eyes. She would need a lot more time to decipher that look.

And she found herself wanting it.

Then, without a word, Winter put her foot on top of the ball and rolled it back, popped it up, and… began juggling with just as much precision as they’d displayed. Except, unlike them- bedecked in jerseys, loose shorts, and tennis shoes- she was doing it in a form fitting pants suit and dress shoes, hampering her mobility somewhat though it hardly impacted her performance, executing all the tricks Yang had done. Then, she passed it to her sister, who, in high heels and a skirt, proceeded to do the same, keeping many of the tricks low so her skirt wouldn’t ride up. Which, of course, meant she had less room to manipulate the ball, had to move faster to get into position to execute each trick, and when she did a version of Blake’s around the world one, the faunus felt her mouth pop open in astonishment.

Once satisfied, Weiss passed the ball back to her sister, who caught it one handed.

“We appreciate the invitation. However...” Winter tossed the ball, hard enough that it hit Yang’s chest before the keeper thought to catch it. “We unfortunately have a prior engagement that requires our attention.”

The sisters began walking past the gobsmacked footballers and Blake didn’t miss the look Weiss directed her way as she spoke. “After you’ve won your game, perhaps you’ll join us in the hotel’s hot tub?”

Blake didn’t notice how close they were to their floor’s elevator until Winter reached over and pushed the button to call a car. “Unless, of course, you have your own post victory traditions that take precedence.”

Yang just shook her head while Blake managed to find her voice. “No. We don’t. Have traditions, I mean.”

“Excellent,” Weiss said, stepping into the car the moment the doors twanged open and hitting a button inside, smiling in a way that… well… Blake would call it seductive in another setting and found herself hard pressed not to call it that now. “We’ll see you there. Don’t be late.”

When the doors closed, both Blake and Yang were left standing in the hallway, both just… recovering from how mentally unprepared they were for their tricks to be used against them to great effect. After another moment, Yang turned to look at her, holding up the ball.

“Lucky. Ball.”

Blake resolved to not argue that point and instead focus on winning the game, ushering her teammate towards the stairs rather than waiting for the next car.

---

Weiss leaned back against the wall of the elevator. While they’d chosen to book this particular hotel for their business trip specifically because their favorite football team would be staying there, and they’d opted to not use the penthouse suite because they wanted a chance to catch glimpses of the team while going to and from meetings, neither expected to meet their personal favorite players in the hallway like that. Weiss had followed Blake’s career since college and, while responsibilities had prevented her from attending as many games as she would’ve liked, she always recorded them and watched them later. Up until the encounter in the hallway, that was how she and Winter had planned to spend their evening.

Now, though…

“Would it be inappropriate for me to bring her jersey to the hot tub in the hopes she’ll sign it?”

Winter made a considering noise. “Bring the jersey, leave a suitable pen in the room.”

“How would that accomplish her signing it?”

“Invite her back to the room.” Her elder sister smiled, and a twinkle in her eyes spoke to the crude humor of a former soldier. “I’ll be… elsewhere tonight.”

“Spare me the details,” she replied as they reached the ground floor. “... but thank you for the idea.”

As a general rule, Weiss was never overly fond of business meetings, but she found herself looking forward to the end of this one more than usual, if only to see where the night led.

---

Blake pushed out a nervous breath as she and Yang made their way towards the hotel’s pool area. The game itself ended in a shootout and while Blake had made the final goal that secured them a berth to the finals, she couldn’t relax quite yet. Post game celebrations usually involved Blake joining the rest of the team for a glass of champagne or a toast of some sort before the others prepared for a night on the town to celebrate the win. Most of the time, Yang went with them, leaving the faunus plenty of time to wind down with a book of her choice and a peacefully quiet hotel room. Even on the odd occurrence when Yang didn’t join the others, the blonde still found other ways of occupying herself that preserved Blake’s quiet.

So, rushing back to the hotel room to change into their swimwear before the hotel shut down their pool was a major break from their normal routine, and knowing they’d be going to meet two very beautiful and apparently incredibly talented women… well, she was just a touch nervous.

Unfortunately, her best friend didn’t share that anxiety.

“One piece or bikini?”

“What?”

“Which do you think they’re wearing?” The blonde shrugged, the tips of her hair brushing the back of her neck. Normally, Yang wore her hair down or in a thick braid for games, but seeing as she didn’t have the energy to deal with drying her hair again after the quick post game shower they’d rushed through. “I’m hoping Winter’s wearing a bikini or a two piece. She’s gotta have some abs, right?”

“You have an eight pack; what does it matter to you if she has abs?”

“It’s about the commitment.” With a smirk, she gestured towards her own abs, prominently on display thanks to her yellow bikini top. Along with a darkening bruise around her left eye, there were bruises along her ribs from a few sliding tackles that had almost sidelined the keeper entirely, but Yang was a bit tougher than their opponents expected. “It takes work to get these and keep ‘em.”

“And what’s the point of wearing a bikini top if you’re just going to wear swim trunks for bottoms?” She arched a brow, more comfortable poking holes in her best friend’s thought process than confronting reality as they neared their destination. While she, too, opted for bikini style swimwear, Blake had chosen a black top with matching bottoms and a light purple sarong around her hips. She might claim to be somewhat modest in comparison, but she was showing a bit more skin- which, rationally, she could justify because they were getting in a hot tub, not attending a gala, showing a bit of skin should be expected-

Blake shook her head, trying to calm her anxiety again.

“Gotta make her work for the goods,” Yang replied, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring her nerves. Then again, perhaps she had a few of her own that she was hiding, considering the way she reached up to fiddle with her hair. “Besides, my bottoms always ride up. Trunks are more comfortable. Not all of us have an ass that won’t quit.”

“Not judging, I just think it’s… silly. To focus on what they’ll be wearing.”

“What else is there to think about?”

“How hard we’re going to flirt.” She pointed out, tilting her head thoughtfully. “What to say, how to say it… what result we’re hoping for.”

“Don’t overthink it, Blakey.” A laugh. “Let’s just have some fun.”

They came to a set of glass double doors that granted entry to the pool area of the hotel… at which point they realized the pool officially closed half an hour ago. Yang cursed under her breath as Blake’s shoulders slumped. They’d missed their chance, it seemed.

“Oh, Miss Belladonna? Miss Xiao Long?”

“That’s us,” Yang replied as a hotel employee approached them, already grabbing a key card attached to his lanyard and holding it up to a sensor beside the doors.

“Here. Both Miss Schnees are waiting for you.”

The footballers exchanged a look, surprised by the special treatment. True, they were quasi celebrities themselves, but this hotel handled all teams from the league, which meant they weren’t any more famous than the average patron. Then again, the Schnee sisters had quite a bit more clout than they did and could probably swing something like being given unfettered access to the pool area.

With a shrug and a smirk, Yang opened one door and they entered, spotting the sisters sitting in chairs beside the hot tub. Both were reading magazines, with fresh drinks on a table between them, and were… well… Blake found she couldn’t immediately discern their taste in swimwear because both sisters were wearing football jerseys. And not just any jerseys.

“I see you took us up on our offer,” Weiss said, getting to her feet and motioning towards the hot tub before reaching for the hem of the jersey to pull it off. At a glance, Blake could tell it was the special limited edition run from a few years ago, and her number no less. And while she would be sorely tempted to assume the woman had found one last minute, the careful way Weiss placed the jersey on the chair- not dropped or thrown carelessly- made her think otherwise. Only then did she notice the woman had opted for a light blue one piece with a single strap, leaving her upper back mostly exposed. “Splendid.”

“Congratulations on your win.” Winter also set aside her magazine and stood up, revealing she was wearing Yang’s limited edition jersey, and she took the same amount of care in removing it and setting it aside. Much to her friend’s delight, the elder of the sisters did wear a bikini of a darker blue and also sported some abs, though they lacked the definition of Yang’s. “A hard fought victory like that certainly deserves a celebration.”

As the sisters entered the hot tub, Blake looked over to Yang, who seemed equal parts excited and… intimidated- and that second one was hard. But what intimidated her ultimately evolved into a challenge and Yang never backed down from a challenge. For her part, the faunus just found herself wondering if, perhaps, they had a different idea of who needed to impress who than the sisters did.

Removing her sarong, Blake tossed it onto the chair Weiss had used and went to the hot tub, noting how the sisters had chosen to sit across from each other. She hesitated in entering, if only because she didn’t want to be too forward. Yang, of course, took the seating as a goading taunt of sorts, and settled herself in the tub hardly an arm’s length away from Winter. Probably closer than would be considered polite but neither seemed uncomfortable or surprised by the decision, so Blake opted to test the waters herself, sitting approximately the same distance away from Weiss but also across from Yang.

Almost instantly, she let out a sigh of relief; while focusing on getting to the hot tub, she’d done her best to ignore the lingering aches and pains from the game. Now, though, she could feel herself relaxing as the warmth began sinking into her muscles. Usually, she just focused on stretches before bed and had a tub of balm if that failed.

“Should probably do this more often,” Yang said, obviously relaxing herself. “Forgot how good hot tubs feel after a rough game.”

“Speaking of that, did you get checked out?” Winter gestured towards her eye. “You took a few nasty hits. I’m surprised seventeen didn’t get thrown out of the game.”

“The Vipers always play hard.” The blonde tried to shrug off the concern. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You took a few shots, too.” Weiss pointed out. “How’s your knee?”

“I’ve taken worse falls.” She gave a wry smile. “But I’m beginning to suspect you know that.”

“I’ll admit I’ve been a fan of yours since your college days.” The woman shrugged one shoulder, feigning nonchalance- and Blake only suspected it was a show because blue eyes didn’t meet hers as she spoke. “I hardly think that is remarkable. You’re one of the best strikers the league has ever seen.”

“Did you ever consider playing?” At the curious look she received, Blake inclined her head. “It took me years to develop those tricks, and you did them better. That speaks to a remarkable amount of skill.”

“Well, I’ll admit I entertained the idea a time or two. Ultimately, I chose my path, and it didn’t leave enough room to become a superstar footballer.” She shook her head. “I don’t regret it but, I suppose, part of the reason I practice those little tricks to keep the dream alive.”

Her ears perked up, catching something between the lines. “Part of the reason? What’s the other part?”

“Why, to catch your eye, of course.”

“My eye?” She couldn’t help the surprised chuckle that bubbled up from her chest. “You’re Weiss Schnee; you don’t really need to try to catch anyone’s attention.”

The woman’s expression faltered then. “Yes, well… unfortunately, the sort of attention I garner on my own is markedly less… impressive, by some standards.”

“I’d think those people have poor standards, then,” she said, opting to tip her hand as well. “You’ve managed to galvanize social changes that have taken some kingdoms entire decades in a matter of years. Comparatively, bouncing a ball’s hardly anything. Don’t you think?”

At that Weiss laughed, a bright, high, unrestrained sound that Blake rather liked hearing. “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress you, now would I? And you shouldn’t discount your own efforts outside the pitch.”

The faunus felt her lips quirk up in amusement. They’d been watching each other from afar all this time; the only thing she didn’t account for was the magnetic attraction that being in the woman’s presence seemed to engender. And, as she made an excuse of stretching to cover her moving slightly closer to Weiss, it seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling it. The woman, mysteriously, decided to move and dip her shoulders beneath the water’s surface long enough to bring out a lovely light pink blush to her skin, and when she sat back against the tub’s wall, she was a bit closer to Blake.

Surreptitiously, she snuck a glance towards Yang, if only to gauge how much teasing she would be in for on the flight back home the following day. She quickly realized her best friend wouldn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to teasing; somehow, Winter had coaxed Yang into her lap and was apparently giving the footballer a message. For her part, Yang seemed to be in a luxurious sort of heaven, eyes half lidded and with a silly sort of smile on her lips.

“Forgive my sister,” Weiss said, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I’m impressed she’s shown this much restraint.”

“I can hear you,” the woman replied, blue eyes flashing towards her younger sister. “But that can be remedied. Yang?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think this would work better if you were lying down.”

Lilac eyes widened as the woman tilted her head, glancing over towards Blake. With a small nod, the faunus made the silent agreement to avoid their hotel room for a few hours. Frankly, Yang had slept in a few lobbies over the years, when she’d returned too drunk to be quiet and not wanting to risk waking the faunus. She could spend a night elsewhere to return the favor.

“Yeah… I think you’re right.”

As the two got out of the hot tub and retrieved towels, Blake returned her attention to the woman beside her. “You don’t have to try, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Impressing me. You don’t have to try.” Blake tilted her head, leaning back to brace her arms against the rim of the hot tub. “I think that’s the part I don’t like about being with the league. The mandatory press conferences and the rules- sometimes, I just want to get straight on the bus after a game and go back to reading my book, not sit and play twenty questions for an hour. It’s like… wearing an ill fitting mask.”

“You handle them remarkably well.” Weiss smirked. “But I suppose I say that because I speak my mind a bit too bluntly during press conferences. I admire your restraint.”

“I admire your candor,” she replied, very carefully laying one arm along the tub’s rim behind the woman. “I really liked the interview you did with the Atlas Economist. It looked like you were going to give that guy an aneurysm.”

“That would’ve been impossible.” A light chuckle as she moved closer, lowering her voice ever so slightly to coax Blake into leaning closer. “He would need a brain first.”

They both laughed, using their amusement to hide their shifting movements until Weiss was pressed into her side ever so slightly. They continued talking and laughing quietly until sitting in the hot tub started becoming uncomfortable. However, the faunus did her best to ignore it simply because she didn’t want to part ways quite yet. Weiss was… a lot of things- emphatic, sharp tongued, witty- but above all good company that Blake wasn’t keen on losing quite yet. However, she couldn’t ignore that the heat of the tub was taking a toll on them both.

“Your skin’s turning red,” she said, running a thumb over the ball of Weiss’ shoulder. “We should probably get out.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They both stood and exited the hot tub, grabbing towels to start drying themselves off. While doing that, she wracked her brain for some excuse to continue their conversation but found herself coming up woefully empty. Every suggestion she could come up with either sounded ridiculous or… risque. It wasn’t like she could simply invite the woman back to her hotel room for some tea.

“Thank you for the invite, by the way,” she said, trying to buy herself some time. “A good soak after a tough game feels… fantastic. I don’t often indulge.”

Blue eyes lit up as the woman wrapped a towel around her hips. “I’m more than glad you accepted. However, if you wish to… pay me back… I’ve been meaning to ask for your autograph.”

Blake raised a brow. The request seemed… deceptively innocent, especially with the way Weiss was looking at her. “I can do that. You want me to sign your jersey?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” The barest moment of silence, and then she tilted her head. “Unfortunately, the only pen I have is in my room.”

Blake took a step closer, pleased to see she actually stood a few inches taller than the woman when she wasn’t wearing heels, and lowered her voice. “Well… I suppose we’ll have to go to your room, then.” A pause. “And, maybe, we’ll think of something else I can sign along the way.”

Weiss smiled and donned the jersey, setting her hand in the crook of the faunus’ elbow. “Perhaps. Do you have any ideas?”

“I do.” As they started walking, she chuckled. “But I wouldn’t want to use a pen to sign something so… delicate.”

The woman hummed, pointedly looking at her mouth. “I believe I know of something else you can use.”

While outwardly Blake merely smiled a bit wider, internally she asked herself a question: just how far was she willing to go?

Before they reached the elevator, she’d decided that if she wasn’t officially dating Weiss Schnee by the time she boarded the plane tomorrow, she’d be disappointed in herself.

---

Weiss stretched luxuriously in her bed as the morning rays streamed in through the window. She was sore in places she’d forgotten existed- but the pleasant type of sore, the kind that eventually turned into an itch for more, and it took conscious effort not to reach for her scroll just then. It would probably do her well to show some restraint.

That mentality lasted all of thirty seconds before her scroll was in hand and she was admiring her new background picture, taken just before Blake put on her swimwear from the night before and left to return to her room. Nothing terribly suggestive or revealing, of course, just the faunus resting her chin on Weiss shoulder. An ordinary selfie. With her new girlfriend.

She couldn’t help the smile curling her lips.

The door opened and she looked over her shoulder, watching her sister strut into the room wearing her bikini with her usual air of complete and total confidence. Her jersey was held in one hand. Probably because she wanted to… show off. “You walked down the hallway like that?”

“Of course,” Winter replied, not even batting an eye at the words ‘Property of Yang Xiao Long’ written in marker across her chest and abdomen. “I’m pleased with the outcome.”

Then, a smirk.

“Please, don’t elaborate.”

“I won’t but I do hope you were as successful as I was.”

She glanced at her scroll as a message came through from Blake, a smile coming to her lips. “Indeed I was.”

Who knew giving in to her impulse to show off would have such wonderful results.

[pizzazz-party]

Ring Analysis Part 1: Synchronizing— How It Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

...As well as the world he lives in. Our buddy Ring may explain very little about himself, but he doesn’t need to if you’re paying—obsessive—attention to detail.

(Gameplay spoilers up to World 20 under the cut.)

For a mechanic that’s important enough to merit a cutscene, and then goes on to envelop every part of the game, “synchronizing” gets a handful of lines before it’s never explicitly brought up again.

So let’s go over this scene.

“Synchronizing” is, at first glance, a simple exchange of traits. That’s not entirely wrong. Trainee does physically take on characteristics specific to Ring, like the flaming hair, and Ring does gain access to her heartbeat reading, sort of like a living stethoscope.

But what syncing actually is, is a symbiotic relationship. It’s both participants “recalibrating” themselves to the other as best as each of them are able. For a flesh-and-blood partner that’s not built for syncing, this means physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring. (More on that later.) For Ring, a magical being designed with the extra sensory input in mind, it invisibly grants him access to the other’s most invaluable resource: their exercise energy.

Like synchronizing, “exercise energy” is another lovely concept that was mentioned once and then never again. So much so that I’ve been accidentally calling it “fitness energy” for weeks and am still trying to correct my reflexes.

But exercise energy is everything. If all it takes is a simple read of a heartbeat to jumpstart a sync bond, exercise energy is the glue that cements it together. Because Ring and Trainee don’t stop being synced whenever they’re not physically touching. They separate all the time. They can put a little distance between themselves and still be at the height of synchronization, even. But let’s take a step back for a moment, and talk about that “physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring” aspect.

Say that Trainee is doing a leg move at peak performance. Her hair is flaring up. Her legs are glowing that same yellowish hue—because they’re full of exercise energy. That’s what that is. That’s what it must be. It’s what Ring himself is partially made of, seeing as the same stuff flows through his veinlike tubes. Seriously. Look at this. It’s the same goddamn color.

I can’t understate how incredibly important exercise energy is. To synchronizing, to Ring, and to literally everything else. Exercise energy is a type of life energy. In the world of Ring Fit, it’s in everything, everywhere—in varying levels of purity and concentration. When Trainee is performing a fit skill, she almost seems to absorb a mystical...something... from the open air around her, as she charges up a skill. Thin lines of light streak towards her as she lights up, not away. See for yourself.

Trainee isn’t a normal inhabitant of “Planet Fitness.” She doesn’t know how to manipulate exercise energy very well on her own. It looks like being synced with Ring has made her somewhat biologically closer to being made of exercise energy herself, and with that? The slight ability to absorb it from the air around her. It’s a really small thing, likely just a tiny boost of power she’s drawing in from her surroundings (and returning right back after a move is complete). But it’s there. It’s visibly happening. With one exception, this doesn’t occur outside of a fit battle. And that makes sense. A fit skill taking more energy than an air blast is very reasonable. Those crates littering the place are a lot less hardy than...whatever you would classify Monsters as. 

I mentioned an exception. Here it is:

Victory posing is such an odd little tradition, isn’t it? It’s unskippable; Ring always insists on it. And at first glance, his instructions are weird. “Pull in energy from the ground” sounds a bit like nonsense...except in this shot, Trainee is actually standing on a glowing platform full of Exercise Energy. (Yes, that’s what that is.) The moment she’s done charging her squat power, thin lines of light streak upwards— some into Trainee. And when she raises her arms, she expels all that excess energy into the open air. You can watch the process here.

And that’s where most of the EXP from victory posing comes from—from the well of exercise energy humming beneath her feet.

Exercise energy is life energy in constant motion. It’s created (for a lack of a better word) constantly as the body moves and burns calories. It’s also expelled constantly, and this is most visible when Trainee works out. It is not, under any circumstances, meant to be trapped in the body forever. But the act of having possessed any of it at all gives Trainee EXP, a byproduct, which can be kept forever.

———

Ring says in the initial cutscene, “The more you exercise, the more synchronized we’ll be!” The more Trainee exercises, the more exercise energy her body holds at time. The more exercise energy she holds, the more alike she and Ring are in that very moment. The more alike they are—the more in sync they are.

———

The two way connection created by synchronizing is closer to a metaphysical fusion of both participants than a simple trade off. Ring’s powers are (almost but not quite) Trainee’s powers. Trainee’s body is (almost but not quite) Ring’s body. It’s both easy and hard to see where one’s work stops and the other’s begins. So let’s lay down some quick facts.

One! In terms of powers—everything Ring and Trainee can do together, Ring can do alone. It’ll be weaker. But he can do it. He’s got his own supply of exercise energy and he’s a master at manipulating it. Ring is not helpless; you are.

Two! The glowing limbs you fight with in a fit battle belong to Ring—not Trainee. Here are even some screen caps of Ring vaguely referring to them both. (It’s even in all-important blue text.)

Three! Ring is always actively contributing to your fit battles. He is never just counting reps or giving tips. As Trainee charges up a fit skill, Ring is constantly channeling the resulting energy into powering up his battle constructs. He is actively aiming said constructs for you, always.

In the case of specific fit skills, where Ring’s battle constructs immediately appear as buff as can be—it’s because Trainee is helping. A lot of what these instances have in common is the fact that the fit skills in question are less... involved?

Imagine being Trainee, and trying to keep a good aim on the enemy as you do the Mountain Climber move. (Or even squats. I do too many of those and I start disconnecting from reality.) The Ring Raise move, on the other hand, is gentler and gives Trainee a clear, unobstructed view of the enemy throughout the whole exercise. It gives her the wiggle room to try her hand at manipulating her own exercise energy directly.

With Ring and Trainee working together, the charge-up effect is therefore instantaneous.

Four! Canonically, despite the two of them being synced, Ring can shut off Trainee’s access to his powers at any time. That’s because, for them to work in the first place, Ring must be consciously activating them. In some animations at the start of a course, Trainee stretches by pulling on him at both ends. This should summon a suction vortex. But it doesn’t. Because Ring knows Trainee is just doing a pre-run stretch.

It explains why you can’t summon a Mega Ab Guard whenever you feel like it; only when Ring suggests it. Or why you can’t just suck up tokens in mini games like Dreadmill (Ring is too honest to help you cheat). Yes, it’s a game mechanic thing. But it’s a mechanic that Ring canonically controls. Trainee absolutely cannot use any of his abilities without his explicit consent. And that’s probably why she hasn’t accidentally killed somebody in combat yet—Ring is super careful. (He’s a professional, you know.)

———

Now that we have a better understanding of what exercise energy is and a better grasp on how Ring works—let’s circle back one more time to that “physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring” aspect. Because there’s one last insane thing we skipped over.

Trainee is initially the baseline in our understanding of what exercise energy looks like in a human being. Her yellow-orange flames are our constant companion—and therefore we get misled, because Trainee is an outlier. She is synced to Ring, and Ring is extraordinary. So she’s not a good example of the average person.

But in this case, despite being a literal master, Guru Andma is.

Guru Andma, “the balance master,” is the only other human character we see using attacks consisting of all three muscle groups. Her fight is a wealth of knowledge in of itself. When she flexes her arms, they fill with RED energy. When she flexes her abdomen, it fills with YELLOW energy. When she flexes her leg, it fills with BLUE energy. This is the standard for human beings. This is normal.

What this implies then, is that synchronizing with Ring has overwritten Trainee’s original energy signature. Ring’s energy is decidedly NOT human. It’s not even fit-skill yellow; it looks close, but it’s really something else entirely. Ring of course can convert Trainee’s energy into traditional reds, yellows, and blues for a fight. (Or at least, he can fake it if he doesn’t have his Color Coding ability. He once mimicked the flames of Dark Influence early on in the game; some superficial color editing is not above him.)

But yeah. Trainee’s energy is now definitely abnormal.

And yet the process didn’t seem to put her in any physical pain? I really doubt Ring would have sprung that on her if it did. (I mean, he still should have asked for permission first.) I’d wager the effects of syncing, as deep as are, aren’t permanent once the bond is dissolved. What Ring is doing—“synchronizing”—is somehow, simultaneously, extremely mystical and yet completely natural.

———

Last segment, before I let you go.

For a long time, I wondered: what are the prerequisites, that denote syncing potential? Not impressive muscles, I’m sure; it’s heavily implied Dragaux once synced with Ring, and he was infamously skinny. Could the general attitude of a person play a role, if Ring’s energy is pure positive exercise energy? Or could it be genetic? Maybe even entirely random?

I wasn’t sure until I fought the four masters, and especially after fighting Guru Andma.

I’ll bet you anything that there’s something inherently flexible about Trainee, for a human. Something more malleable, and therefore more amenable to undergoing the dramatic changes of a sync bond. And I’ll bet you further that it has something to do with the fact that Trainee had zero previous experience wielding exercise energy at the start of the game.

Because Ring tells Trainee she has potential right after identifying that she’s new.

(The less developed a person is initially, the easier it could be to sync with Ring. Whereas a person with more intensive training would be incompatible.)

And if you’re still convinced that Ring was just impressed with her muscles—please remember that Ring is not human, and does not experience life through the same lens. It’s implied he can “see” energy with more than just his eyes. It’s how you can drop him in a new temple in an unfamiliar land and he’ll still be able to tell Trainee when she’s close to the finish line. (He forgot what static stretching was that one time. He does not have these floor plans memorized.) To him, those glowing wells at the end are like straight up beacons.

He was absolutely examining her energy.

———

To Ring, syncing probably isn’t worth writing an entire essay about. It’s natural to him, instinctive. It’s Ring making a promise to watch over someone, and to have their back as they will have his. And I think that’s beautiful. Frustrating to my curiosity, but beautiful.

———

TLDR; Synchronizing is a metaphysical bond sustained through Exercise Energy, a substance mentioned once in World 1 that encompasses the whole game. It exists everywhere in everything, in different variations of intensity and purity. Ring especially is partially made of exercise energy. It’s the glowing stuff in his tubes. There’s more, but that’s the gist of it. DISCLAIMER: This is for fun! I just wanted to try my hand at explaining how the magical sentient Pilates ring works. I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable. Thank you for reading.

———

EDIT (June 20, 2021): Updated header image. Also added a link to Ring mimicking DI.

EDIT (August 12, 2021): Added links to part 2 and 3.

———

RING ANALYSIS

Part 1: Synchronizing— How it Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

[asspinkie]

zukka/wuko hc

okay so hc/fic idea:

-> zuko helps wu come to terms with him being in love with mako and also shares with him the letters that he and sokka sent each other while they were falling in love

-> after wu reads the letters, zuko makes him write one to mako, confessing how he feels

-> 100% would be titled “when the stars come out at night (do you think of me?)” or something in that vein

-> i started writing it (under the cut) but will i finish? unlikely

Zuko was the last person Wu had expected. He never in a million years would have thought Fire Lord Izumi would send her relic of a father to be the Ambassador to the Earth Kingdom. Iroh? Maybe. But Lord Zuko, hero of the hundred-year war, previous Fire Lord and ridiculously old man? Never. And Wu really couldn’t decide if he was honored or peeved; he did, after all, have to deal with someone so antiquated that he probably still thought satomobiles were a novelty. 

Sighing heavily through his nose, Wu set down the letter from Izumi, pacing one of his many offices. “I can’t believe-” he started, looking back at Mako. Except Mako wasn’t there. Mako was back in Republic city, with his shiny new promotion to detective, leaving Wu to suffer alone. Instead, there was a dai-li agent guarding his door.

“Yes, your majesty?” she inquired.

“Nothing. The embassy from the Fire Nation arrives in three days. Have rooms prepared,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. The dai-li agent dipped her head and slipped out of the room. With a dramatic groan, Wu flopped onto the couch in the middle of the room, mentally exhausted.

He had spent the last few months trying to pick up the pieces of the Earth Nation that Kuvira had so rudely left behind; he’d formed alliances with the other nations, quelled uprisings and even dealt with the wrenching absence of his best friend. 

Mako. The one thing he couldn’t get off his mind, couldn’t file away, couldn’t defer responsibility to someone else. Apparently, at least according to Lin, Mako had specifically requested to leave Ba Sing Se. After everything they’d been through Mako had just left, to be a detective. What about being a detective was better than being a part of the Earth King’s personal entourage? Wu couldn’t think of a single thing. 

---

Apparently, Zuko was incredibly skilled at messing with Wu’s expectations. He wasn’t a crotchety old man with an over-inflated sense of self. No, he was chill. Their first meeting might have been awkward if the old man hadn’t immediately said “I’m too tired for niceties” and whipped out a pai sho game board.

Wu gaped at him. “What- where did you just get that from?”

Zuko chuckled. “I figured our time would be better spent getting to know one another over a game and tea, rather than discussing the terms of your abdication and what it means for an alliance.” He tugged at his collar. “These formalities are so overplayed.”

Wu wasn’t sure how to react. This man, who had helped the last avatar take down the tyrannical rule of the fire nation, who used to lead the fire nation, wanted to play pai sho. Wu supposed he couldn’t really say no. 

---

And so it became their tradition. Once a month, when Zuko was visiting to discuss economical treatises and trade routes, cultural events and immigration, they played pai sho. At first, it was quiet. Wu wasn’t quite sure what to say to Zuko; he was in such a different league that no topics seemed like common ground. But slowly, Zuko’s snarky comments and Wu’s huffs of laughter turned into lively conversations. 

“You know,” Zuko started, one sunny afternoon, while they were playing a game in Wu’s personal garden, trying to avoid dignitaries. “I’m always surprised when I visit, that you have still not been married. I’m sure you’re drowning in suitors. I know I was when I was crowned.”

Wu gagged on his tea. “I’ve just been so busy, you know, with reconstructing the Earth Kingdom,” he fumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Besides, who needs love?”

Zuko wheezed at this. “I’ve seen the way you gaze forlornly out the window when I’m taking time considering a move. And how, when you say something you think is funny, you look over your shoulder, even though there’s no one there.” He picked up a white dragon piece, flipping it between his thin fingers. Leaning in, across the board, he flicked the piece into Wu’s face.

“Ow, what was that for?” Wu yelped, rubbing the red spot on his forehead.

“Aren’t you going to tell me who it is?”

A blush crept into Wu’s cheeks. “I’m not in love with anyone,” he responded, swatting Zuko’s hand out of his face. “I couldn’t be anyw- Mako is a guy.”

The corner of Zuko’s mouth flicked up as he sat back. “Who said you can’t date a guy?”

“Who said I can?”

Zuko looked at him. “You know, we had laws against it in the fire nation. Sixty years ago. That’s all outdated now; it doesn’t matter who you fall in love with, we’re all just souls, aren’t we?” He was fiddling with the white dragon piece again and giving Wu a concentrated look. “I myself was married to another man.”

Wu tried to stop his eyes from bugging out but his dumb face, over which he had no control evidently, had morphed into shock. “I thought you were married to Mai? Izumi’s mother?”

Zuko shook his head. “Wow, you are way behind on gossip, Wu. Listen, I saved some letters Councilman Sokka and I sent each other when we were young. Would you like me to bring them to you?”

Wu felt his eyes widen even more. “Councilman Sokka?!”

“Did you learn nothing of the fire nation's affairs in your education? This is all common knowledge.”

“No, I wasn’t taught gossip,” Wu sputtered in response. 

“I forget how sheltered you Earth Kingdom royals are. I remember when the saying ‘there is no war in Ba Sing Se’ circulated the city. In any case. . . “ Zuko sighed. “Would you like the letters?”

[girlpornparadise]

Chances (pt2)

Pairing: Esteban/f!Reader (There is a New World Somewhere - Maurice Compte)

Word Count: ~2000

Smut warning: We got there, there’s smut. 

Personal ramble: I know he’s a broken mess, but I love him so much. He’s still my disaster angel, I can fix him, I swear!

Part 1 is here

Friday can't come soon enough, but the anticipation comes with a dose of dread.

Make dinner? What were you thinking? Why did you pick your weakest domestic skill to showcase? That was dumb.

You decide to make a stir-fry and a chocolate cake. You figure you can't mess them up too badly. 

You rush out of work a bit early to give yourself ample time to assemble a passable home cooked meal. Trying your best not to make blue soup of the matter, you go about cooking like one of those women in an infomercial who just can't get anything right. Buzzing around the kitchen with just enough competence, you manage to finish the stir-fry and get the cake out of the oven before it has a chance to burn.

You have just enough time to get out of your comparatively dowdy work clothes and into those jeans that hug your butt and a t-shirt that is just a little too low cut.

As you are straightening the settings on the table and the pillows on the couch, the doorbell rings and you almost jump out of your skin.

He stands at your door, bottle of wine in hand. He too has opted for jeans that probably hug his butt perfectly, and a shirt that's too low cut, his being a button up that is not nearly buttoned up enough. 

The peak at his perfect pecs distracts you and you take just a little too long to say "Please, come in." You worry he noticed, but fortunately he's too much of a gentleman to call you out on it.

He sets the bottle down on the dining room table and excuses himself to the bathroom. You fill the plates in the kitchen and bring them to the table just as he's sitting down. 

"This smells delicious." He observes, and you hope that the remark is genuine and not just polite.

Once you seat yourself he pours you a glass of wine with the skill of a bartender, and you are left to assume that he probably was one in a past life. A Jack of all trades it would seem.

As you both tuck into the meal, he asks you about your day and you ask him the same in return. He peppers in a few charming anecdotes he probably uses on what you imagine to be many dates, but they make you smile nonetheless. He asks enough about you to keep the conversation flowing, and you open up about yourself as the wine relaxes you. 

When dinner is finished you both take your wine over to the couch. You rest it on the coffee table and when you return from the kitchen you are carrying 2 slices of chocolate cake.

"I'm impressed." He says taking the small plate from you.

"Well, we are celebrating after all." You say as you sit down beside him.

He raises his eyebrows in question.

"I finally submitted my proposal today."

"Congratulations. That's great news." He says covering his mouth when he realized he started talking with a mouthful of cake.

"I couldn't have done it without you." You smile. And the smile he offers in return is soft and kind and it makes you want to brush away the crumbs in his beard that frame that perfect smile.

You both finish your cake and he wipes away those crumbs with a napkin, but the smile still remains.

Like the cake, his eyes are deep and brown and chocolatey and they look at you warmly. The silence of anticipation has settled over you both and all you can do is notice each other's subtle movements. Breathing steadily, shifting slightly in your seat, glancing at each other's features and mapping the parts you especially like.

He lifts his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of his forefinger. When it reaches your chin, he drags it towards himself, urging your jaw forward and tilting it slightly upwards. Your eyes lock onto his before both sets close as his lips lightly brush yours. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, you both lean into the kiss. It's warm and soft and pleasantly moist. Your mouth parts open and his tongue slips inside, lapping gently against yours. He tastes like chocolate and wine and happiness. Your hand comes up and presses against his chest for balance and contact and you feel it rise and fall, matching the rhythm of his warm breath against your face. His hand shifts back into your hair and your ears thunder with your own heartbeat. You bring up your other hand and place it on the back of his neck, brushing lightly against his soft hairline. With one hand cupping your head and the other on your upper arm, he pulls you in tighter, grasping slightly to show his need.

You break away from his kiss momentarily to shift yourself closer to him and see the lust flickering in his eyes, matching your own. You take a deep breath and press your lips to his once more, eyes closed, taking in his sound, his scent, his taste. 

You can tell he wants to move fast, and your desperation for his affection leaves you wanting the same, but you try to maintain enough control to keep kissing him without moving any further. You can feel his frustration build at your hesitation, and you relish it, feeling his desire in his every move.

He decides he's had enough and seizes control of you. As his hands grip your hips, you feel the strain of his biceps beneath your hands while he lifts you easily onto his lap. Once he positions you straddling him, he pulls you down to grind against him, and you feel his erection growing beneath you. His hands shift upwards to your lower back and yours tangle in the hair at the back of his head and the searing kiss continues.

You raise your chin and throw your head back slightly and he seizes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck. But you've lost control and a quiet moan escapes you. He smirks against your neck and takes this as his cue to run his hands up under your shirt. They are warm and slightly calloused and as they reach the sensitive sides of your ribcage you shudder slightly from the tingle you feel. You assumed he was reaching for your chest, but his hands move to your back and unclasp your bra in a single movement. He bends his elbows upwards so his muscular forearms are parallel with the floor and in doing so lifts your shirt. You pull away from him to allow him to pull your shirt over your head and toss it aside. As you free yourself from your loosely hanging bra he takes the opportunity to remove his shirt. 

Your eyes rake over his abs and chest and you audibly gasp at the perfection before you. As your eyes meet his again, his tongue darts out and retracts slowly. For a fraction of a second you are both still, taking in each other's forms and calming your breathing. The moment passes and suddenly his hands are cupping your breasts and your hands are grabbing his biceps to pull him closer. His thumbs swipe over your already hard nipples and you whimper at the exquisite feeling. 

With his hands on your back for support, he raises himself off the couch, holding you to him. You squeeze your thighs around his hips and release them as he lays you down on the couch. His fingers find your fly and you watch as he deftly unbuttons it. He pinches the tab of your zipper and pulls it down. He does it slowly as he notices you're watching and smiles as you inhale sharply at the tease. Satisfied that he has your full attention he hooks his hands into your waistbands and yanks down your jeans and panties roughly while you arch your back to assist him. You watch him unhook them from your feet and toss them away. 

You would feel very exposed and a little self conscious if you weren't marveling at his musculature with every movement he makes. He stands and undoes his jeans, and pulls them down and steps out of them. You expected that his boxers would be next but...

Omg, he isn't wearing any.

Your eyes go wide and he grins, having done this specifically for your benefit. It had the intended effect as you're practically dripping on the couch. Your eyes remain wide but focused on his thick erection and you lick your lips. Your eyes meet his again and he leans over you on the couch. Your legs spread to accommodate his wide hips and he rests his arms on either side of you. 

Watching his eyes and feeling his weight on top of you, he shifts his hips to line up with your center. As he pushes himself forward, he parts you open. As each firm inch enters you, your mouth falls open but no sound comes out. In the silence you hear a very soft "oh fuck" pass his lips.

Your hands move to his neck and you use your thumbs to help guide his jaw downwards to your face. His tongue is pressed against yours and you feel enjoyably crushed by all of the pressure his body is exerting. He trails his mouth to nip at your jaw and he works his way up to scrape his teeth along your earlobe. It makes you moan and tremble. 

You grip his shoulders, forearms pressed against his back and you can feel his muscles strain and relax with each ebb of his thrusts. With his mouth so close to your ear you can hear his broken sighs and muted moans. It makes your insides liquefy. 

His thrusts begin to gain urgency and strength and your toes tense as his cock presses past your most sensitive spot. As your cries are louder and more frequent, he lifts himself up to look into your eyes. You squeeze yours shut at the intensity of his movements, but he puts his hand on your chin and tilts your head ever so slightly forward. It pulls your attention to his eyes and you are lost in his deep brown gaze. He ghosts his lips over yours and presses an almost chaste kiss to your cheek. You hum, your own lips pressed firmly together. 

As you rock your hips more demandingly his thrusts keep pace. You're panting and shaking and he knows you are close. He bows his head next to yours and whispers in your ear. "You're so beautiful." It sends you reeling over the edge and your orgasm tears through your core, to your voice, to a thundering cry close to his ear. He lifts himself slightly as the thrusts continue their urgent pace. You watch his face tense and his eyes squeeze shut as his jaw drops open. He releases a grunting cry as he releases his cum into your quivering core, his final thrusts rocking you into the couch cushions. 

Exhausted but glowing, you hum your satisfaction. He sits up, panting and runs his hand through his own hair. You smile up at him and he smiles back. After passing you some tissues, you sit up and settle yourself against his chest. He wraps an arm around you and you raise and fall with his heavy breathing. Once you both catch your breath, you sit up and he kisses you lightly on the lips. 

"How about a shower?" you offer, and leaving your clothes strewn about the living room, you lead him by the hand to your bathroom.

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

I would like to request you an astrology headcanon. can you please write relationship hc (like sfw and nsfw) of Kuroo, Oikawa, Kageyama, Kenma, Akashi, Bokuto, Sugawara and Miya Atsumu with a 22nd September Virgo-sun, Scorpio-moon and virgo-rising female. Pleaseee if you can:-) thank you very much!

Mkay a couple little things before we get started. Number one, I don’t know the boy’s complete natal chart, so I just went with there sun sign for all the categories. (if anyone knows where I can find their complete natal chart lmk 👀) Secondly, I don’t write nsfw stuff so there’s not any specific Hc about that kind of stuff. Finally I personally don’t think that ones riding sign affects a relationship so that’s why it doesn’t have a category, but even if I did, your rising sign is the same as your sun sign so the Hc would’ve been very similar anyways.

Ok onto the fun stuff :D

Scorpio x Virgo sun

Your essential natures are compatible, as both of you share a certain level of practicality, the need to analyze and dissect people and life, and a rather introspective approach to life’s challenges. There are times, however, when Scorpio strides fearlessly into a challenging situation, and Virgo feels much more cautious and careful. Scorpio may consider Virgo to be too timid, and Virgo may feel that Scorpio lacks prudence.

There are also many situations where Scorpio is more stubborn and persevering than Virgo. Scorpio may view Virgo’s lack of commitment and dedication to a single purpose to be a sign of weakness. There is the possibility that Virgo will view Scorpio as being a bit crude, too passionate or emotionally attached to certain situations or ideas. Virgo has refined sensitivities and sometimes literally doesn’t like to get “dirty hands”, while Scorpio is more primitive, raw, and not squeamish.

You both need to strive to harmonize your different natures and not antagonize each other, but the chances of doing so are very high, as you both sense in one another a generally compatible attitude towards life.

Scorpio x Scorpio Moon

This couple will be welded together by their shared obsessions. Sun in Scorpio’s fixations will blend perfectly with Moon in Scorpio's need for total intimacy. Outsiders will not understand this relationship’s darker corners, and that will be just fine for these intensely private Scorpios.

Sun in Scorpio is fearless, but he doesn’t display his courage with showy bluster. He craves absolute sexual and emotional intimacy, and his no-holds barred explorations take place behind closed doors. Even Sun Scorpio's lover will never see absolutely everything that he has going on; keeping a piece of himself in the shadows is how he maintains control. His partner must be willing to share — or at least tolerate — his tendency to obsess; his investigations of any subject are full-on, and this requires a degree of commitment that most people find unnatural.

Moon in Scorpio needs to bond with her lover at a primal level. Incredibly private, she will keep her intense needs buried until she meets a partner she can (gradually) trust. But even once Moon in Scorpio’s lover has earned her trust, there will always be times when she withdraws, as she goes through a regular process of deep transformation and renewal. She’ll give her partner unending passion and support, as long as he is willing to dip below the surface with her.

Sun in Scorpio’s deep explorations will be fully supported and shared by Moon in Scorpio. Whether it’s sex, movies, mountain climbing, or any other interest, these two will live and breath it to the limit. Sun in Scorpio will take the lead, while Moon in Scorpio instinctively backs him up. If she needs to go off on her own internal journey, Sun in Scorpio will understand. These two will nurture many obsessions together, but the main one will be their commitment to each other.

Cancer x Virgo sun

Both of you are inclined to mood changes that, at times, can irritate each other. For example, Cancer experiences periods of melancholy, tenderness, concern, worry, nostalgia and sentimentality, which Virgo may not understand or sympathize with. Virgo can suddenly become irritated and irascible over minor annoyances, and at such times, is capable of intense sarcasm and criticism, which can be extremely disconcerting to Cancer’s tender, sensitive feelings. Virgo must be prudent, and Cancer must strive to be forgiving when things go a little awry.

However, you are both capable of enormous devotion to one another (and to your children if you have them), and taking care of one another comes naturally to you.

Your Sun signs are semi-sextile. You don’t really understand each other’s styles of expressing emotions. Your relationship requires some adjustments.

Cancer x Scorpio Moon

This pairing blends Cancer nurturing with Scorpio intensity, to create a deeply protective relationship. Together, these two will create their own, private world based on their mutual need to submerge themselves in a relationship.

Sun in Cancer can be needy, and this is based on his extreme sensitivity and desire to nurture a secure home life. He guards his vulnerability with a shell that few are allowed past. In order to be let in, his partner must prove that she’s loyal and just as interested in building a nest as he is. Sun in Cancer’s focus on caring for his lover will be mixed with varying degrees of dependency, because he’ll require assurance that she’s not going anywhere. Although he can be quite protective, the secret to being with the Crab is realizing that he needs just as much protection as he dishes out.

Moon in Scorpio can be possessive, and this is based on her need for control. She feels safe when she knows exactly who she’s dealing with. It will take a long time for Moon in Scorpio to open up and trust her lover, but once she does, she’ll demand complete access to his body, heart and mind. She’ll feel threatened when her partner keeps secrets (although she’ll always have a few of her own) and will use every tactic in her emotional arsenal to figure out what he’s holding back. Her Shadow side can emerge when she trades passionate bonding for a never ending series of emotional manipulations that give her the upper hand.

Sun in Cancer will probably be the first to open up in this pair, as he nervously responds to Scorpio’s intensity. Despite the fact that Moon in Scorpio will keep her power under wraps, she’ll be in control (unless his Moon is also in Scorpio, in which case this could be a battle or meeting of soulmates). Sun in Cancer will be reassured by Scorpio’s powerful, background support. Moon in Scorpio will be reassured by Cancer’s commitment to focus on no one but her. They’ll create an emotional fortress whose inner rooms are closed to outsiders. And that will suit them just fine.

Sagittarius x Virgo sun

While Virgo tends to focus on the trees, Sagittarius is interested in the forest. Very often Virgo points out problems with specific details of any situation, while Sagittarius would rather discuss the overall, general outlook rather than the practical details.

These different approaches can balance each other. They are also likely to conflict with each other at times, especially when Sagittarius feels that the details will take care of themselves and Virgo should simply have more faith in the process. Virgo can be guilty of spending so much time criticizing the details that the overall goal of an otherwise excellent plan is missed. Sagittarius, on the other hand, may need Virgo’s detailed analysis but not be willing to admit it.

Positively, you can work together with Sagittarius providing a great deal of vision and enterprise, and Virgo providing a great deal of practical advice, expertise, and skill. However, it is inevitable that Sagittarius will feel annoyed with Virgo’s pettiness and criticism at times, and Virgo will feel frustrated by Sagittarius’s sloppiness of thought or behavior. Much humor, tolerance, and awareness of your legitimate differences will be needed to work these problems through.

Your Sun signs are square. It’s very challenging to understand each other’s styles of expressing feelings, and clashes are frequent.

Sagittarius x Scorpio Moon

Sun in Sagittarius wants to spread his wings, while Moon in Scorpio wants to dive deep. Their conflicting urges will make it difficult for these two to create a mutually satisfying relationship. However, both have a penchant for exploration, albeit on different levels. If they can agree to disagree on their approaches, this couple can create a bold union that will take them further than they could go individually.

Sun in Sagittarius explores new horizons, literally and figuratively. Whether he’s wandering, pondering new ideas, or trying out a new recipe, his partner can be sure that he’ll always bring something fresh to the relationship. However, his interests can shift rapidly as he loses patience with details and depth. This also means that Sun in Sag requires a certain latitude; he does not handle rigid domestic rules very well. He does best with a partner who is able to handle the practical details, while encouraging his generous (sometimes excessive) contributions.

Moon in Scorpio explores the depths: both hers’ and her partner’s. This intense Moon needs absolute intimacy with her lover, which means she’ll push him to his limits; superficiality is a major turn-off. But she won’t expect him to go anywhere that she hasn’t. Moon in Scorpio’s emotional cave-diving can be draining for some partners, although her fixed intensity means that she is a faithful (if possessive) lover.

Sun in Sag will be weighed down by Scorpio’s emotional demands, and Moon in Scorpio will feel threatened by Sagittarius’ craving for variety. Fortunately, it takes a lot to overwhelm Sag, so he may be able to withstand Scorpio’s intensity. If Moon in Scorpio can come up for air occasionally, and Sun in Sagittarius is willing to dip beneath the surface, these two can urge each other on to greater heights and depths.

Virgo x Virgo sun

Both of you are prone to have fits of perfectionism, and at such times you are extremely critical and difficult to please. You may vacillate between extreme neatness and sloppiness, or be very particular about some things but very casual or even sloppy in handling other areas of life. Because each of you has an eye for detail and can be very skilled and exacting when you put your mind to it, you have the potential to work together very well in any area that requires extreme care and attention.

There is the problem, however, that your combined perfectionism may make both of you dissatisfied with anything that you attempt. Both of you like to express your love for someone by doing practical things for that person, and both of you enjoy helping out with daily chores and various tasks. The similarity in your traits makes you a well-matched couple.

You share the same Sun signs. Your emotional natures are so similar, it’s uncanny. Your relationship is very intense.

Virgo x Scorpio Moon

This intense couple’s primary concern will be working on their relationship. Sun in Virgo will handle the tangible details, and Moon in Scorpio will take care of the passion and emotional exploration. Both partners relish relationship challenges, although their mutual zeal for locating problems can turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Sun in Virgo believes that anything worthwhile comes with its share of difficulties. His skill at locating flaws in everything gives him a zest for improvement. This makes Sun in Virgo a conscientious partner, but he can go overboard when he obsesses about little things that his lover may not even notice. Shadow Virgo can appear when he starts to view all positive relationship developments with suspicion. Too much of his work ethic can suck all the joy and spontaneity out of a partnership.

Moon in Scorpio needs to get to the bottom of things. She will never be satisfied with a partner who is afraid to be honest and emotionally naked. Moon in Scorpio can be fearlessly passionate, loyal and protective, but her trust is gained very slowly. She feels safest when she has completely experienced someone, hence her need to feel her lover, body and soul. Shadow Scorpio can creep out when these emotional explorations devolve into manipulation and paranoia.

Sun in Virgo may be initially unnerved by Scorpio’s volatile passion (once she decides to trust him). But after much analysis, he’ll understand what makes her tick and will work to meet her intensity with his focus. Moon in Scorpio will help Virgo see beyond the details, as she pushes past some of his perfectionist-driven inhibitions. Both will be committed to addressing potential problems together, but their combined search for the truth can trap them in a maze of suspicion and doubt. Some fun, meaningless activities (and the occasional break from each other) can help lighten things up.

Gemini x Virgo sun

The two of you are both intellectual creatures, more rational than emotional, and you have a good mental rapport. You both love to talk and you appreciate one another’s wit. Virgo, however, has a more practical, down-to-earth turn of mind, while Gemini just enjoys playing with ideas, without needing a purpose or practical application for them.

Gemini is also more of a risk-taker and will gladly do something once “just for the experience” while Virgo is more careful, cautious, and discriminating. For the most part, however, you understand each other well, and can be quite compatible.

Your Sun signs are square. It’s very challenging to understand each other’s styles of expressing feelings, and clashes are frequent.

Gemini x Scorpio Moon

Oil and water might be the best description for this couple. Gemini’s lightness does not blend with Scorpio’s depth. But do these two have something to offer each other?

Sun in Gemini has a short attention span. His goal is to gather a variety of experiences; he doesn’t have the energy for exhaustive exploration of one subject or person. His quick wit and curiosity are the fuels that propel him forward. If his partner can keep up (while keeping his curiosity stoked) Sun in Gemini can be a loyal companion. But no matter how loyal he is, he’ll always have a variety of friends and confidants—of both sexes. Possessive lovers should look elsewhere.

Moon in Scorpio needs a profound connection with her partner. Naked, emotional honesty is a must for her to feel secure. But she doesn’t trust easily; getting Moon in Scorpio to let down her guard is a long process that requires a patient partner. This Moon needs control in order to feel safe; she’ll let a prospective partner in on her terms. Meanwhile, her lover must be prepared to reveal everything about himself. Her possessive, Shadow side can creep out when she feels her partner is hiding something. Her lover must be prepared for simmering anger and/or manipulative jabs, all released with the intention of making him “pay” while forcing him to open up.

Sun in Gemini will feel overwhelmed and undercut by what Scorpio doesn’t say. She’s a master at holding back and nursing grudges, which she’ll feel compelled to do each time Gemini chats up a different woman. Moon in Scorpio will feel insecure and unsatisfied with Gemini’s glib explanations.

However, if there are more harmonious connections between their charts, these two might learn something from each other. Sun in Gemini can show Scorpio how to lighten up, as she learns that his conversations with others are just words (and nothing more). And Moon in Scorpio can push Gemini to look beneath his ideas, to the rich current of intensity she’ll bring to their relationship.

Libra x Virgo sun

Libra loves company and can talk endlessly with friends, and loves to hear others’ experiences and thoughts on any subject. Libra is very accepting of different points of view and is disinclined to judge or even clearly evaluate what others say. Virgo, on the other hand, loves to analyze and criticize, and is intolerant of illogical or erroneous thinking. Virgo is more demanding of others and confronts others when necessary. Libra finds these confrontations extremely uncomfortable and often embarrassing. Virgo is much more exacting and demanding in all areas of life.

At worst, Virgo can view Libra as wishy-washy, and Libra can view Virgo as prim and intolerant, but hopefully your appreciation of each other is much better than this! At best, your different natures can complement each other without annoying each other.

Your Sun signs are semi-sextile. You don’t really understand each other’s styles of expressing emotions. Your relationship requires some adjustments.

Libra x Scorpio Moon

Both these signs want to relate to a partner, they just go about it in different ways. Light and airy Sun in Libra will have difficulty handling Moon in Scorpio’s intense moods. Scorpio will push for brutal honesty, while Libra will try to keep things sweet.

Sun in Libra is focused on maintaining harmony. Whether he’s chatting (and flirting) with someone he’s just met, or having an intimate evening with his partner, he’s all about making sure the other person is happy. People accuse Sun in Libra of being shallow, but his uber-graciousness comes naturally; he automatically relates to others and sees their point of view. Although he can overdo this and end up becoming a reflection of his lover’s desires, he’s one of the most courteous, sensitive partners around.

Moon in Scorpio needs raw intimacy. Part of this is due to her passionately intense nature, but she’s also deeply suspicious and doesn’t feel comfortable (with her partner) until she has experienced every inch of him (inside and out).

Her lover should have a high tolerance for no-holds barred confessions, while respecting her privacy and personal space when she withdraws. Periodically, Moon in Scorpio will need a time out, and attempts to jolly her out of this mood will not work. Although she can be a deeply loyal and healing partner, her Shadow can emerge as manipulative, possessive and controlling.

Sun in Libra may always feel a bit unbalanced around Scorpio. Whether she’s pushing him to “be honest,” or stewing with jealousy over his flirtations, her intensity may feel like an assault to him. Moon in Scorpio will feel frustrated, and sometimes disgusted, with what she views as Libra’s shallow approach to everything.

This will be a difficult relationship, but the saving grace will be each partner’s desire to be in a relationship. Libra will want the trappings of partnership, and Scorpio will crave the emotional intimacy.

Although they’ll never be totally comfortable with each other’s approach, they might be able to make this work if there are enough binding contacts in their synastry.

[beatrice-otter]

Period Fic Primer: Mawwiage is what Bwings Us Togethah Today

Welcome to my next installment of the Period Fic Primer, where I talk about stuff that period fic often gets wrong! Today we're going to talk about how people think about marriage. Because about 90% of the time, when I read a period fic with a romance in it, it's pretty obviously modern people with modern ideas about love who just happen to be wearing funny clothing. And, I mean, if that's what floats your boat, go for it! But if you want to write something with characters who feel they might actually come from the time period the story is set in, here are some things to think about. Stop me if you've read this fic/watched this movie: Our hero and heroine are In Love. But there is a problem! There is a class difference! Their families have other ideas of who they should marry! The hero and heroine don't understand how anyone can stand in the way of True Love! What kind of monsters could want someone to marry without being in love with their new spouse?

That reaction--that assumption that of course being in love is the only and most important reason for marriage--is extremely modern. People have fallen in and out of love throughout human history, it's something most humans do; and falling in love with the wrong people is also fairly common. But the idea that romantic love and marriage are naturally connected is a modern idea which was only starting to come into popularity in the Regency.  Instead, up until the late Victorian era, most people (of all social classes) would have agreed more with Max instead:

In most times and places, marriage has had two primary functions: 1) consolidate/amass resources needed to sustain the family, and 2) pass those resources on to the next generation so that the family will continue to prosper. Why? Well, to answer that, we have to back up a bit. Did you know that, throughout history, most communities were only one bad year away from famine and people starving to death? This is not an abstract thing. It didn't happen most years, but it happened regularly enough that it was never far from peoples' minds. Also, farming up through the late middle ages took huge amounts of backbreaking labor. In a good year, you'd have a surplus, and could sell it to get some extra stuff. In an ordinary year, you'd have enough to survive on. In a bad year, people died. Organizing things so that you and your family and your community--the people you cared about--would have the best chance at survival in a bad year was really important. Now. Where do the resources come from? From the land. If you want to farm, you need land. If you want to mine, you need land. For pretty much anything, you need land. Making sure that you have access to the land you need--and that your children will have access to it--was a really big deal. For the few things that didn't need land, but rather used the products of the land and turned it into something else--all the trades, basically--there was also a lot of concern for how to balance things so that the people already in the trade can be sure that they and their families will have what they need to continue on in the trade. Access to resources was a huge deal. For most of human history, in most places, that's been one of the most important considerations for marriage. It's all about who has access to resources, and how they are going to pass those resources down to the next generation intact so that their children will have enough to live on. This looked different at different levels of society and in different cultures, but if you ask yourself "where are they getting resources from" and "how do those resources flow from one generation to the next" and "what effect is a prospective marriage going to have not just on the couple, but on their family and community" and questions like that, a lot of different marriage customs suddenly make a lot more sense. I'm going to be using European examples (mostly English), but these are the questions you need to ask if you're doing any worldbuilding or writing historical fiction. Because these things matter. On the small farm community level, in England, farming mostly happened as a communal thing. That is, specific families would lease specific fields, but everyone in the village would come together to help and some things would be used in common. (The growing trend in 17th-19th Centuries of rich people enclosing common lands and using them for their own good instead of the common good is one reason poverty in the 19th Century was so dire.) But you needed to control how many kids there were: it was a balance between having enough hands to do the work, and having few enough mouths that you could afford to feed them all. So the eldest son would inherit the lease, he'd have enough to get married, and the younger sons would work for him and the community but not have the ability to get married because they wouldn't be able to feed their kids. If they worked hard, they might be able to take over the lease of another local family that had a tragedy; if they left the village they might have an opportunity somewhere else to find another way to make a living (but that was extremely rare, because people would make sure opportunities went to their own kin first so you'd probably end up doing the same sort of hard work for nothing more than room and board in a different village). To marry, you need resources; you need to be able to feed your children. And, ideally, you want your spouse to be able to contribute to those resources. So the girls would spend years building up a store of household goods, hoping to marry one of the older sons who had a lease and therefore could afford a family; if you didn't snag one of them, you probably didn't marry, and ended up doing the sort of hard-labor-for-nothing-more-than-room-and-board that your younger brothers were doing. It sucked for the younger children, but it made sure that there usually weren't more children than the land could support. It's not about love; it's about who could afford to support a family. (In many places on the continent, they divided the land up equally between all the sons, and that was fairer but ended up with lots of cases where there were simply too many mouths to feed.) If you had a trade--you were a blacksmith, say, or a weaver, or a tanner, or a cooper, or a baker--well, there was a finite amount of work in any given area. You would pass on the trade to one of your sons, and the others you would try to find jobs as apprentices in the hope that they might one day be able to open up their own shop, but realistically most of them wouldn't. And realistically, most of them would never have enough money to get married and support a family unless they were able to open a shop of their own ... or marry the only daughter of someone with such a shop, or the widow of one. And even if you weren't marrying to get the shop, you wanted someone whose family was in the same trade, because even if women were rarely formally apprenticed in a craft, there was a lot less hard division between "men's work" and "women's work" and it was much easier to run a successful shop if both spouses knew how to go about it. So you might fall in love with someone from a farming family ... but (if you had the money and resources to marry) you'd still probably end up marrying someone from the trade you'd been brought up to. Because, again, it's not about love; it's about making sure you have the resources (skills and equipment and contacts, in this case) to build a comfortable life and support a family. And also, about making sure you have connections with the people who are most likely to have the things you need in your daily life. If you were of the gentry or nobility, well, they were rich enough they weren't going to starve in a bad year, but they had a correspondingly greater desire to keep and maintain that status for their children. So the oldest son inherits the main bulk of the lands; the younger sons get professions like the army and the navy and the church, which may or may not pay them enough to support a family; the daughters get lump sums of money called a dowry. And you want to keep all that lovely money in the family. You want to keep the land intact. You want to keep the power intact. You want to make sure that your children will have the best life possible ... which means they need resources, which means you need to marry appropriately. You might fall in love, but if the person you love isn't an appropriate match, then you're probably not going to marry them because marriage is about collecting resources and keeping them in the family over generations. In all these cases, according to the society and mores of the day, if you allow your child to marry outside their sphere simply because they've fallen in love--if they marry "beneath" them, or if they marry when they don't have the resources to support a family, or if they marry someone from a different trade/walk of life--you are a bad parent. So they're in love, who cares. Love will not feed your grandchildren. I mean, if you're a decent parent you'll care about making sure their spouse is a good person they can get along with, but as long as the spouse is not actively abusive, marrying someone they don't care for (but who has the resources for marriage) is far more likely to end happily than marrying someone they love who doesn't have the resources. I mean, if you're a farm girl and you marry a younger son of a farming family who doesn't have land of his own, all it takes is one bad year and you and all your kids starve. If you're in a trade and you marry someone from outside the trade, your shop is less likely to suceed. If you have money and land and marry someone who is lower class, you will be socially outcast and likely fall in social status and wealth and being ostracized from your community has negative repercussions for you and your children. Our bone-deep association with marriage is that it's about love. But prior to the 19th Century, romantic love was a bonus in marriage. If you found someone you were in love with who loved you who was the right social group and had the right resources, that was awesome! But the right social group and the right resources was far more important to have. Think about that. Think about what it means to have "being in love" be an optional add-on, a nice thing if you can get it, rather than the purpose of marriage. And it's not even something that has to be related to marriage at all. Consider the medieval idea of courtly love, where knights would fall deeply, powerfully in love with great ladies, be visibly devoted to them, write them all sorts of love poetry ... and never put any serious thought to marrying them or even sleeping with them because relationships/marrriage and romantic love were in two mostly-separate conceptual boxes. Loving someone from afar was the ideal, not the tragedy. You'd be surprised how much of the social mores of the pre-20th Century world were based on "we have to keep resources in the family and make sure our resources are passed on to the next generation." Obviously, things directly related to marriage and inheritance, like entailments and marriage settlements and wills were a part of it, but also things like "who talks to whom." You know all those rules about needing to be properly introduced to someone in order to talk to them? And the husband/father needing to call on someone and make their acquaintance before the wife and/or daughters can meet him? That's about making sure your daughters only marry the right people. They can't fall in love with a guy they never talk to, or at least, it's harder to do so. If you only ever talk to the "right" people and you fall in love, your love is going to be one of the "right" people and you can safely marry them. If you only talk to the "right" people, anyone that you don't know (and that none of your friends know) is obviously not the "right" sort of person, and so if you never come into contact with them, the chances of them being able to marry into your circle of family and friends is much reduced. This is one of the reasons why connections were so valuable, too: if you were at the lowest rung of the gentry but had a cousin who was in a far higher level, you would probably get invited to their parties sometimes, and your kids might be able to marry up into that sphere because they had an "in." It's all about keeping all that lovely money in the family not just in this generation but for the generations to come. You will notice that I have been assuming that every marriage will produce children. These people didn't have contraceptives, just abortificants, and those abortificants were dangerous. If you weren't infertile, and you got married, you were probably going to have children. And if you didn't have children, it was seen as a great tragedy that (especially for women) lowered your social status. But even in cases of infertility, whatever wealth you had would pass down to the family because chances were you would have a niece or nephew to adopt. If there were any relations living, someone in the family would get it. But the ideal was for the couple to have children, because then both of the families that put resources into the marriage get a share of the wealth through the children who inherit it. It's all about keeping resources in the family. This changed over the course of the 19th Century, but it changed slowly. Consider Austen's novels. In Sense and Sensibility, of the two couples in love we see, Elinor and Mr. F can't marry until Mr. F has resources under his control (an appointment as a vicar), and Marianne and Willoughby ends in tragedy, and the happy ending for Marianne is marrying the nice-but-boring-and-dependable guy with lots of land (and hence wealth). In Pride and Prejudice, Jane wants to marry for love, Elizabeth wants to marry someone she respects (and ends up with someone she loves AND respects, because she is a virtuous heroine), and Charlotte just wants to be married to someone with good prospects even if he's an idiot. (If you're protesting about Elizabeth wanting to marry for love, you're thinking about an adaptation or fic, because it isn't in the book; she explicitly starts considering him as a desirable marriage partner when she visits Pemberly and sees a) how responsibly it's managed and b) how well he treats his servants and sister, i.e. the people he could abuse with impunity if he wanted to.) In Mansfield Park, the reason Fanny has no money or status and can be abused by Mrs Norris and her cousins is because Fanny's mother married for love and thus Fanny and her siblings are penniless and depending on charity. In Persuasion, Anne and Wentworth fall in love but don't marry because, while he has prospects, he can't afford a wife yet (and might not actually gain the status and wealth needed to support a family), and even after all the angst of their meeting again and thinking he would marry someone else, and they reconcile and are married, Anne still thinks that refusing him when he didn't have enough money to support a family was the right thing to do. Now, over the 19th Century, three things happened. First, the standard of living rose, mostly in the middle class and upper working classes. Second, all sorts of new opportunities developed. There were new ways of getting the resources necessary to live on besides inheriting them. Third, the novel flourished and there were all sorts of stories about true love conquering all. All of these things fed into each other. You could marry for love without it being an utter disaster, and there was a cultural stuff about marrying for love being okay. But it was a gradual change, and the higher you were in society the longer it took for that change to take hold. The upper classes in England were still marrying for social rank and money well into the mid-20th Century. To sum up: if you are writing a period fic, or a fantasy set in a low-tech world, chances are that "marrying for love" is something most people think is silly at best, and dangerously foolish at worst. Even people who fall in love and end up marrying for love might agree that they're being stupid to do so! Also, consider: 1) Who has resources? 2) How are those resources passed from generation to generation? 3) What are the social customs and mores that encourage this to happen in the "right" way? 4) What are the legal rules in place to enforce those customs and rules? 5) How does the family of the couple either benefit or lose from their marriage? If you take these factors into account, your fic will be a lot more accurate.

comments

Comment? https://ift.tt/3lq5cfp

[mint-yooxgi]

Obsession - Prologue

Yandere AU - Part of the EXO Obsession Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (In later chapters)

Pairing: EXO OT9 X Reader (with a particular focus on X-EXO)

Words: 3,002

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: On the sixth day of ficmas, Jackie gave to me~ So I know this technically isn’t what was originally scheduled to be posted, but life caught up with me and since I already had this finished, I figured you guys could enjoy this as the update instead! I do really hope you all like this one, as I have a lot planned for this series. Without further ado, feedback is always greatly appreciated, enjoy lovelies!

Next

Walking into the base in the early evening, you’re greeted by a few of your coworkers. They either wave slightly or nod in your direction as you walk past, heading straight for the mission quarters near the back of the building for your next assignment.

You work for the company EXO, under the Supernatural Mutations department which is in-charge of taking care of variants found throughout the city, as well as nulling any types of threats that may occur which could harm the civilian population. This force includes humans, as well as certain supernatural beings. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.

Ever since about fifteen years ago, supernaturals have made their presences known to the human population, and after a war which lasted five years, both sides came to an agreement to live in peace and harmony, as they once were. However, there are still rogues out there whom love to cause havoc, and bring harm to the civilian population of both humans and supernaturals alike.

This is where your team comes in. Whenever there is a serious threat, your team is sent in to take care of it. Whether it be a murderous vampire, a feral werewolf, or even a rogue mutant, you’ve seen it all. However, your biggest challenge currently seems to be a witch whom is hellbent on bringing down your strike team.

She seems to hold a grudge against all ten members of your team for taking down her coven a few months back after learning of their schemes to assassinate the world council leaders at their yearly conference in Busan. Clearly, she has some unresolved issues of not being able to move on.

One thing that’s frustrating though, is that you have yet to take her down. No matter how hard you work to catch her, and end her evil plots, she always manages to escape at the last second.

One thing that you’ve always appreciated about your job is that it doesn’t discriminate. Since supernaturals are allowed to work on the team, they simply add to the prowess and skill of the whole. You’re grateful for many of your coworkers, for you don’t know where you’d be without them.

Before you can even raise your hand to knock on the mission’s office door, an alarm blares to life, red lights beginning to flash all around the base.

“That’s not good,” you mutter, more to yourself than anything.

You nearly stumble back as the door in front of you gets flung open and your team begins to run out. Seeing you standing there, Jongin stops in his tracks long enough to grip your wrist and begin dragging you along with them.

“What’s going on?” You question, being pulled into the weapons room as six of them begin to gear up while the other three grab their tool kits. You begin to suit up as well, able to see the seriousness of the situation already.

“Shelly is on the move again,” Minseok informs you as he begins to lead the way to the bunker where all the vehicles are stored.

“Apparently, she just set off a large scale explosion, trapping about a hundred civilians inside a warehouse,” Sehun adds, slinging his bow onto his back as he exits the weapons room.

“She sent out an announcement minutes ago saying that she’s going to cast a spell over the city within the next ten minutes which will ‘shed light on everyone once and for all,’ so we need to hurry,” Junmyeon adjust his earpiece as you all make it to the bunker.

“Give me more details on the way,” you say, hearing the engine of the hovercraft start up as the gate lowers for you all to enter inside. “Let’s get this bitch once and for all.”

“Right,” you hear them all say as you enter the hovercraft.

On the way over to the warehouse, you discuss your plan of action with your strike team, consisting of Jongin, Jongdae, Junmyeon, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Sehun. Yixing, Minseok, and Kyungsoo will all remain in the hovercraft, scanning the area for potential threats, as well as making sure the civilians get out safely while no rogues escape.

Each member of your team has a certain specialty, each having a specific role to play. Yixing is the pilot, as well as the certified medic. Minseok and Kyungsoo are the tech specialists, while the rest of you are the infiltration and strike team, each with your own unique abilities.

Chanyeol is a fire sprite, meaning he has the ability to manipulate heat and flames. Jongin can teleport, and is usually very good at getting out of tricky situations unharmed. Jongdae is a thunder kitsune who can control lightning, but is also a master strategist. Sehun is an incredible marksman with a bow, while Baekhyun is a skilled swordsman who can handle any blade. Junmyeon, a vampire, is particularly skilled at hand to hand combat, while your specialty is guns. You’re also the leader of this band of misfits, of which you couldn’t ask for a better team.

You’ve taught them a lot of what they know as you were the one to train most of them when they first arrived to EXO. You’ve saved their lives countless times, and they’ve saved yours. You wouldn’t trade them for anything, and you know that they feel the same way.

“Alright, everyone, switch your earpieces to channel five,” you say, noticing how they immediately do as told. “We begin the drop down on my signal.”

Receiving nods from your team, Yixing flies in closer to the roof of the building, but not before making sure to activate the cloaking mechanism. Once you’re close enough, you lift your mask over the bottom half of your face, and nod.

The hatch opens, and you give your hand signals for the first team to drop, watching as Junmyeon, Jongin, and Baekhyun all drop down to the roof. The next team to follow is Jongdae and Chanyeol, followed shortly by you and Sehun.

Feeling your feet hit the roof, you begin to move over to your respective point of entrance with Sehun, seeing the others do the same. With a final nod from you, the seven of you enter through separate hatches on the roof, your plan being to converge in the centre, the spot in which the most power is emanating from.

Entering into the darkness of the warehouse, you’re quick to switch on the small light that’s attached to your gun. What little light from the hatch above you does nothing to make the hallway you’re in more visible.

Hearing Sehun drop down beside you, you give the all clear to start moving, hearing the others through your earpiece also beginning to make their way through the warehouse after maintaining a clear coast.

With Sehun at your side, you quickly clear the section of the warehouse you’ve assigned to yourselves, letting the others know through your communication pieces. A few minutes later reveals their sections all clear as well.

Your brow furrows slightly as you continue to make your way through the warehouse. So far, you haven’t ran into anyone, which is concerning, considering you were informed of the many hostages that have been taken. You thought you would have at least ran into someone, or at least another enemy working for Shelly.

Rounding the corner with your gun raised, you come cross the stairwell that will lead you down towards the main area where Shelly supposedly is supposedly hiding out. 

With a quick nod to Sehun, you begin to descend the stairs.

Your brow furrows even further when you hear the faintest whisper of your name on the air, followed by a distinct laugh which can only belong to the witch in question. You’re getting a sneaking suspicion that this may be a trap.

“Viper, Null, have you come across any variants yet?” You hear Junmyeon’s voice through your earpiece.

“None,” you reply.

“What about you guys? Chen, Loey?” Sehun inquires as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

“Nothing yet, which is surprising,” Jongdae’s voice rings through, the others humming their agreement.

“You guys, I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Yixing’s voice can be heard, followed by some static.

“Be careful, the radar is glitching, so I can’t get a read on the inside of the warehouse anymore,” Kyungsoo adds, and you can hear Minseok fumbling with something the background.

“Seems like most of our detection equipment is malfunctioning,” Minseok grumbles.

“What’s everyone’s position currently?” Your voice is heard as you round another corner, gun raised.

“Closing in on the meeting point,” Jongin tells you, and you hear a grunt of confirmation come from Chanyeol, signifying they’re also close.

You can faintly see streams of light beginning to come from down the hallway, and off to the right. You know the main area is just around the corner, so you switch off your flashlight, putting your hand up to halt Sehun in his tracks. Following your lead, he presses his back to the wall beside you, waiting for your signal.

“We’re ready, just give us the signal,” Jongin says lowly.

“Ready when you are, captain,” Jongdae adds, and you know that they’re all in position now, surrounding the room you’re peeking into.

You can faintly see the outline of a figure standing in the centre of the room, their back turned to you. They seem to be chanting something under their breath as a massive swirl of energy begins to grow in front of them, shifting the air in the room.

“What is that?” Baekhyun gasps.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like the feeling I’m getting from it,” Junmyeon replies, causing you to hum in agreement.

Your eyes cautiously scan the entirety of the room, not seeing anyone else in sight. You furrow your brow once more in confusion. You thought there were hostages in this situation, but it no longer seems you have to worry about any civilian casualties. Looks like it was just a plan to lure you out here to the warehouse.

“Looks like she hasn’t noticed us yet,” Sehun observes, watching how Shelly seems to be focusing all her attention on the growing mass of energy in front of her.

“Okay, Suho, Kai, Guan, approach from the centre,” you instruct. “Loey, Chen, left side. Null and I will take the right.”

Small sounds of approval are heard as you all begin to slowly approach Shelly from behind, weapons raised. As you get closer, you can hear her voice growing louder in her chanting, until she suddenly stops.

Immediately raising a hand with a closed fist, you halt all movements of your team, waiting to see what she does next. However, what you don’t expect is for her to start laughing maniacally.

“How nice of you to finally join me,” she turns to face the seven of you, and so badly do you want to wipe that grin right off of her face.

“Yeah, thanks for the invitation,” Chanyeol scoffs, flames appearing in both his hands as he holds them at his sides, squaring his shoulders as he prepares to lunge into an attack at your command.

“Well, I had to do something that would grab your attention, and not one of your measly little subordinates,” she chuckles, tossing some of her hair over her shoulder in the process.

“Just go ahead and make this easier for all of us,” Junmyeon says, locking gazes with her. “Surrender.”

“Oh, but then where’s the fun in that?” She hums, tilting her head slightly to the side in a mocking fashion.

“Saves you the humiliation of getting your ass kicked,” Sehun smirks, raising his bow more fully to take aim at her chest.

“That’s a nice thought, but I don’t think so,” she responds, eyes flicking towards where you’re standing. “I’m not the one who’s going to lose today.”

“You sound so sure of yourself,” you reply, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Once I finish this spell, I know I’ll have nothing to fear,” she counters, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You’ve taken everything from me. Everything. Now, it’s time for my revenge.”

With those words, she springs into action, moving her arms in a sweeping motion and sending the seven of you flying across the room. You hit the wall with a loud smack, the others getting scattered throughout.

In an instant, Shelly is in front of you, a deadly smirk on her features. Before you can raise your gun to take aim, she’s flinging it out of your hands, pinning your arms to the wall using magic as she lifts you by your throat with her one hand.

“Soon, you’ll know what it feels like to have nothing,” she snarls, tightening her grip around your throat, making you gasp slightly for air.

“Let her go,” Jongin snarls from behind her, and you barely manage to shake your head at the six of them who now stand in a semi-circle in front of you.

“One wrong move and I’ll crush her throat,” Shelly threatens, causing the men before you to hesitate slightly.

While her focus is on them, you manage to move your arm close enough to your side and slide out your switchblade from your pants’ pocket. Your arms may be pinned to the wall beside you, but you can still slide them for side to side. Some witch she’s supposed to be, can’t even pin you properly. Well, she was never the strongest, or smartest, of her coven.

In the instant it takes for you to lock eyes with him, Jongin teleports beside Shelly, sending a quick punch to her side. This causes her hold to loosen on you just enough to free your airway properly, but serves to distract her long enough to break her magical hold on you.

Moving swiftly, you lunge at her, burying your switchblade into her chest and causing her to stumble back a bit. She holds a hand up to her wound, blood slipping through her fingertips as she attempts to stop the bleeding.

Instead of panicking, seeing as she’s been injured and is now surrounded by the seven of you, she laughs. A grin pull at her features as her eyes become crazed.

“Now you’ve done it,” she jeers, as a rumble sounds off to the side.

The giant energy sphere begins to swirl faster, catching all of your attention. It begins to flash different colours, expanding and contracting as tendrils of energy swirl and flare around it. You hear Shelly chanting one final line, and your eyes widen. You need to stop her before the spell is completed.

Lunging at her, you’re quick to put her in a headlock. Junmyeon is the first to react, racing over and ripping her heart from her chest. Her body slumps in your hold, eyes now void of life.

However, this only seems to cause the massive ball of energy to become unstable, swirling faster as it begins to shake the entire building. You can hear the worried voices of Kyungsoo, Minseok, and Yixing in your ears asking what’s going on, but you’re all too distracted to answer, concerned with how you’re going to make it out alive.

Just as you open your mouth to speak, a bright light blinds you, causing you to bring your hands up to block the flash, dropping Shelly’s body to the floor in the process. You get thrown backwards once more, eyes closed as the sphere shoots out beams of energy, tearing through the building wherever it makes contact.

You can hear the six men with you grunting, hearing as they get hit with something, getting thrown backwards just like you shortly afterwards. You worry for their safety, but you can’t do anything at the moment.

It takes about two minutes for the light to die down, and some dust to settle around you. Blinking, you manage to clear your vision enough to take in the damage around you. Luckily, it isn’t as bad as you thought it to be, sounding much worse than it is.

Looking around, you spot the six men on the ground surrounding you. They groan slightly as they stand up, a few of them rubbing their heads as they get shakily back onto their feet.

“What in the hell was that?” Baekhyun groans, blinking a few times to clear his vision.

“I have no idea, but is everyone okay?” Junmyeon asks, eyes briefly scanning everyone for injuries.

“Was I the only one who got hit with something, or did you guys feel it, too?” Jongin voices, running a hand through his already ruffled hair.

“I think we all got hit,” Sehun mutters, dusting off his jacket before picking up his fallen bow.

“Not me,” you mumble, to which they hum in acknowledgement. You take this time to look over them carefully, making sure they’re all okay. You also allow your gaze to travel over the room one last time as you say these next words, “it looks like our radios are broken. We need to get out of here and contact-“

You cut yourself off as you inhale sharply, eyes widening slightly as you take in six new, yet familiar figures now standing on a ledge in front of you, looking down at your small group.

The others, noticing your stare, furrow their brows in confusion as they turn to look at what you’re currently so fixated on. Their eyes widen, and a few gasps escape their lips as they take in themselves standing on the ledge. Only, the six new figures seem to be wearing slightly different outfits. However, they all seem to have their gazes fixated solely on you.

“Aw, leaving us so soon, sweetheart?” One of them calls out, grins tugging at all their lips as a shiver runs down your spine. “The party’s only just begun.”

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #27: Ushiwakamaru

(I know this isn’t one of Ushi’s normal cards, but this is the only picture of her that isn’t 70% naked so I’m doing what I have to.)

Welcome back to Fate and Phantasms! Today we’re building Skadi’s favorite commander, Ushiwakamaru. As you’d expect given her claim to fame is jumping really well, Ushi is mostly a monk, specifically a drunken master for just that little extra movement. She also has six noble phantasms though, and in order to encompass that many abilities in only 20 levels we have to turn to D&D’s perennial jack of all trades, the bard.

As usual, a spreadsheet for the build can be found here, and there’s a level-by-level breakdown below the cut!

Race and Background

You were raised by Tengu, but you’re still a Human, meaning you get +1 in all stats. You’re a soldier, but Dan-no-ura involves hopping over boats, so we’re going with the Marine background for its proficiency with water vehicles. You also get proficiencies in Athletics and Survival. Jumping around is usually more of a acrobatics check, but you’ll need sea legs too. Also: you were abandoned at birth, so learning how to live on your own is advisable.

Stats

Go for Dexterity first. Jumping is strength based, but every other aspect of this skill is your style. Second is Wisdom. You’re not really that good at reading the room, but you were raised by birds, and we need this to be kind of high for multiclassing. After that is Strength. Again, jumping is strength based, so we want this to be passable. Fourth is Charisma. Your people skills are actually pretty bad, but we also need this for multiclassing. Fifth is Constitution. You’re a lightweight with alcohol, but we really don’t want a negative modifier here. Finally, dump intelligence. You’re not dumb, but your other soft skills are tied up in multiclassing requirements, and with your social skills being what they are it wouldn’t feel right to make all your soft stats good.

Class Levels

1.Monk 1: When you choose monk at first level, you gain proficiency in Acrobatics (that whole jumping thing we’re focusing on), Religion(You were abandoned at a temple), and Dexterity and Strength saves. You also gain Unarmored Defense; which is perfect for you, since you’re not big on clothes, let alone armor; and Martial Arts, letting you use dexterity for unarmed and monk weapon attacks, use a d4 instead of other dice when making those attacks, and you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action if you attack using your normal action.

2. Monk 2: At second level, you get Ki equal to your monk level, which can currently be used to make two unarmed attacks, dodge, or double your jump distance and disengage/dash as a bonus action. You also gain Unarmored Movement, giving you an extra 10 feet of movement per move action.

3. Monk 3: At third level, you set out on the path of the Drunken Master, which despite the name has very little to do with actually being drunk. Aside from the proficiency with Brewer’s Supplies. You also gain proficiency in Performance, which given your hard-line stance on pranking makes perfect sense. You also also develop your Drunken Technique, giving you a bonus disengage and 10′ when you use flurry of blows. Finally, you gain Deflect Missiles, letting you reduce the damage of ranged weapon attacks and possibly even send them back.

4. Monk 4: Use your first ASI to improve your Charisma and Wisdom. You also learn how to Slow Fall, reducing the amount of falling damage you take. This will be super useful if you, say, fall off a giant snake. Weird example, I know.

5. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack, which is self-explanatory, but also a Stunning Strike. You can now spend a ki point to force a constitution saving throw when you hit somebody, and they’re stunned on a failure. Also, your martial arts die becomes a d6 this level. Look at you, moving up in the world of murder!

6. Monk 6: Sixth level drunken masters gain two features as part of their Tipsy Sway. You can Leap to your feet, using only 5′ of movement to stand up from prone, and you can Redirect Attacks that miss you using your reaction and 1 ki point. Also at this level, you get another 5 feet of movement.

7. Bard 1: Now lets switch over to your other class for a bit. Being a bard is a little out there, but your NP is literally based on stories of how awesome you are, so it’s not too wild. At first level, you get an extra proficiency in one skill of your choice. Pick up Deception for more elaborate pranks. Also at this level, you get your first taste of Bardic Inspiration, d6 you can hand out to allies to help on most d20 rolls, and Bard Spells. At first level you gain 2 cantrips and 4 1st level spells. Grab True Strike, Longstrider, and Feather Fall to enhance your physical abilities, Minor Illusion and Bane for some trickery, and Thunderwave for a less expansive version of you Hoemaru.

8. Bard 2: Second level bards become a Jack of All Trades, adding half their proficiency to checks that don’t use it (like initiative checks, nudge nudge). You also gain a Song of Rest, adding a d6 to the healing done by your party’s hit dice on short rests. For this level’s Spell, grab Earth Tremor. There isn’t really an explicitly in-character reason for this spell, but it’s more crowd control, so it technically falls under the domain of Jizaiten’s Eye.

9. Bard 3: When you hit your third level of barding, you’ll graduate from the college of swords. When this happens, you gain proficiency with Medium Armor and Scimitars, neither of which work with your monk levels. You also can use weapons you’re proficient with as spellcasting focuses, which is much more useful to you. You also get a Fighting Style, so grab Dueling for extra damage. You gain Expertise, doubling your proficiency in two skills(Deception and Acrobatics are good choices), and finally you get Blade Flourishes. By using your inspiration, you can add that roll to your damage and also either add the roll to your AC, deal that roll’s damage to another nearby creature as well, or push your target by 5′ + the roll and follow them with your reaction. Also, when you attack, you get an extra 10′ of movement for the turn. For your spell this level, grab the flexible Enhance Ability to hype yourself up.

10. Bard 4: Use your next ASI to improve your Charisma for better spells and more flourishes. You also get another cantrip and spell, so grab Thunderclap and Shatter for more sonic damage.

11. Bard 5: At fifth level, your inspiration dice increase to d8s, and you become a Font of Inspiration, regaining your dice on short rests instead of just long ones. For your spell, grab Fear. Again, no real reasoning for it, but it does make enemies run away, so it falls under Jizaiten’s Eye.

12. Bard 6: Sixth level bards get disappointed by Countercharm, letting you spend an action to give your allies advantage against being charmed or frightened. As a sword bard, you also get disappointed by an Extra Attack that doesn’t stack with the one you got at level 5. Grab Enemies Abound to turn any enemy position into a bad one by making them think their allies are their enemies.

13. Monk 7: Back as a monk, you gain Evasion, making your dexterity saves to avoid damage extremely powerful. You also gain a Stillness of Mind, letting you spend an action to end one effect making you charmed or frightened.

14. Monk 8: Eighth level monks get another ASI, but use this one to become a Martial Adept. This feat gives you 1d6 as a superiority die, and two maneuvers. Grab Maneuvering Attack to move allies into better positions and Pushing Attack to move enemies out of them. The saves for these attacks are 8 + your proficiency + your dexterity modifier, and you regain your die on a short rest.

15. Monk 9: At ninth level, you get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run on water and up walls and giant snakes, as long as you don’t end your turn there. 

16. Monk 10: Finish your monk training with Purity of Body, making you immune to disease and poison. This doesn’t help with primordial seas though, so don’t get too reckless. You also get another 5′ of movement added to your speed, bringing your total bonus movement up to 20′.

17. Bard 7: Back in bard, we get a level where not much happens besides your fourth level spell. Grab Freedom of Movement so you’ll be unaffected by difficult terrain. I’d make an example of the obvious, but that’s getting old by this point.

18. Bard 8: Use your last ASI for more Dexterity, boosting your AC and damage, and then grab Dimension Door for your spell. As long as you don’t tell anyone it’s magic, it’s just a really good jump, right?

19. Bard 9: Ninth level bards get a boost to their song of rest as well as fifth level spells. Grab Legend Lore: the grail gives you information about the world when you materialize, so why wouldn’t you know what this thing you’re holding does?

20. Bard 10: Your capstone level gives you a boost to your bardic inspiration, making it a d10, and you get  two more points of expertise, say Athletics and Survival. Grab Vicious Mockery as another cantrip, and finally say hello to Magical Secrets, two spells from any spell list. Sadly, to fill out the last couple NPs, you’ll have to grab Jump and Shield of Faith. Yes, your capstone ability is two level one spells.

Pros: You are very mobile. While your movement is “only” 50′ on paper, the bonuses you get from your flurry of blows and attacking means you can run circles around most of your enemies. The effects from your spells, maneuvers, and flourishes also let you shove enemies around freely. Also, like most bards you have pretty solid soft skills, especially when you’re lying through your teeth.

Cons: A majority of your bard levels don’t really contribute much to the build, and having to spend 10 levels just to get two level one spells really hurts in the long run. This is especially true since despite having magic, you still don’t have much in the way of ranged attacks to work with outside of vicious mockery. You’re also really fragile for someone running in with a sword, with only about 100 HP to work with.