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tumblingxelian · 12 days

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Something of a spin on "Miraculous Classroom" idea of @princess-of-the-corner fame.

Summary: When Carline helped Chloe smuggle Adrien into the school system, she also took the opportunity to... Tweak her class roster.

Only a little, just enough that she could finally have the time to focus on the students who needed more guidance, be it with work and education, illnesses or... attitude.

Unfortunately, her carefully laid plans come to naught when Marinette's cooler opens to reveal not a cake, but ten little gods intent n reclaiming their lost siblings.

& her students want to help them.

A Miraculous what if/AU, there are twelve Kwami, nine students, several early transfers and at least one responsible adult!

What If: This elements are fairly self explanatory.

Fu, rather than combat Hawk Moth directly wanted to take the Kwami to a shrine or temple somewhere outside of Paris, to find new potential students and bearers to restart the order and then deal with Hawk Moth. However thanks to happenstance and a little magic from a few impatient Kwami, the cooler he was using to hide the box got swapped with Marinette's and then she revealed them to the class on accident.

Gabriel could not have been the one to put Adrien in the school system so I can only assume Chloe did something. In this case, she collaborated with Carline, who used the situation to finally get her "Troubled Teens" class idea off the floor. Though in exchange she gets all the exchange students.

& some transfers happened earlier, Marinette low key already knows ALya & Kagami & Lila are already here. Also the reason Sabrina isn't is cos Carline felt her issues were mostly in response to Chloe and that separating them would be healthiest. She is still dedicated to helping these kids!

Alternate Universe: This has to do with world building more than anything.

Long story short, I found some of the later Kwami way over powered, or utterly useless and some of the older one's too one note. As a result I re-structured and combined different elements to make the twelve fundamental forces.

What's more they also came about in distinct eras. So Snake is technically the oldest, but its alongside Ladybug due to being a chicken & egg situation. Meanwhile Cat is "Younger" by microseconds.

Similarly, the next eras concepts also emerged at around the same time as they kind of relied on one another to exist or for an opposite, or to function.

After that however things get a bit more drawn out, with Horse predating its siblings, and Fox being elder than Peacock and Butterfly who are essentially the babies of the family.

Creation Ladybug - Creation & Good Fortune Snake - Ouroboros & Entirety/Time Cat - Destruction & Misfortune

Post Creation Tiger - Ignition & Havoc Dragon - Storm & Power Bee - Order & Subjugation

Early Life Horse - Action & Migration Turtle - Protection & Resilience Mouse - Multiplication & Duplication

Animal Eras Fox - Mirage & Materialization Peacock - Emotion & Evocation Butterfly - Transmissions & Transformation

As to why the Kwami did this, well, not all were in on it, it was mostly Sass, Trixx, Pollen & Roaar who were in on it. With Plagg endorsing once he knew while Tikki & the others are either neutral or less in favor.

Its basically a debate on doing it now or doing it the "proper" way but all have distinct motivations and some even just a general desire to have more freedom.

Here is how everyone partners up:

After the initial release, chaos and confusion, things break into several smaller factions. With Carline, a nervous & blaming herself Marinette, Sass & very irritated Tikki trying to bring order or at least sense. All while other interactions take place which people drift in and out of the conversations and exactly what is going on and why is explained and bonds are formed.

Marinette & Tikki partner cos both of them are getting stress migrains trying to understand/manage the situation and Alya's like, "Oh gosh she even gets stressed like you do, perfect match!"

Chloe gets Pollen because she slapped Plagg across the room after he mistook her jacket for cheese & was unafraid when he started going all "I am the god of destruction" on her. Such an impeccably strong will is the only one fitting for the Kwami of order & subjugation.

Adrien got Plagg by intervening to stop the fight & or murder by offering food: "Hey, uh I totally have some cheese with me, I was kind of just grabbing stuff at random in the cupboard this morning cos it was dark, so feel free to it." - Minutes later "Where do you put it all!?" - "In ma belly!!!!" So he's Plagg's fave by default.

Alya is so excited and eager to jump in and opinionated on the fact Kwami damn right deserve the chance to rescue their siblings when they want to and also can she have an interview please. That Trixx decides they like her vibes and the two start discussing mythic heroes and comic books.

Lila's boastful nature catches the attention of Kaalki who decides she would be a "suitable" bearer. Lil is already cooking up BS claims about having done vigilantism before, but living with Kaalki will be another matter.

Ways and Nino is mostly because Nino is the only one to really notice and try to check up on the turtle who seems really down about the whole situation and they share a chill vibe.

Rose & Mouse is basically them both going "Oh you are so cute" while Tiger assumes Juleka is a wild child cos of her goth aesthetic. At first she is disappointed but it turns out having a second identity lets Juleka go fuck wild so it works.

Dragon & Kagami is obvious cos family symbiology and her already having a sword & a proper manner of speaking which works with Longg's archaic manner.

Carline only end up agreeing to work with Sass because his powers can ensure the students don't die. "My power is to watch over you so you do not die."

Thus we have:

Snake - Ouroboros & Entirety/Time Carline Ladybug - Creation & Good Fortune Marinette Cat - Destruction & Misfortune Adrien Tiger - Ignition & Havoc Juleka Dragon - Storm & Power Kagami Bee - Order & Subjugation Chloe Horse - Action & Migration Lila Turtle - Protection & Resilience Nino Mouse - Multiplication & Duplication Rose Alya - Mirage & Materialization

The shifts in powers in some cases are not immense, though a few noteworthy are:

Tiger is more like creating explosions with imbalances in the universe. Mouse can multiply themself but also duplicate objects and creatures. Fox can make some illusions physical and place illusions in people's heads. Bee can sting objects and command them to obey via impose.

What's more, the powers are not one use only, strictly speaking.

What happens is that you can use lesser versions of the powers multiple times, or you can use the payload once.

So Chloe can for example sting five enemies and keep them all still for one minute at a time. Or she can sting one enemy and keep it still for five minutes. Lila can teleport herself around a great deal but portals tucker her out, ETC.

The basic sequence of events from meeting Kwami to super heroes, is mostly everyone getting just enough context. Sass conceding he should have consulted Tikki but standing by the decision to try and rescue their siblings- They are interrupted by thunderous roaring as an Akuma begins tearing up the streets of Paris.

Bustier: Class, no one and I mean no one is to try using magic, let alone revealing this or racing off into danger. Am I understood- Akuma (Attacking a few blocks away) Sass: I could literally feel that about to happen as you spoke.

The students break up into:

Team: "Has zero plan but wants to fight!" Chloe, Kagami, Adrien, Alya, Rose. They are also enabled by Lila opening a portal.

Alya: Wooh, time to be a hero, Trixx Transform moi! Chloe: I won't let anyone get ahead of me, or destroy Paris, Pollen, Transform moi! Adrien: Hey wait for me, this sounds exciting and also I don't want you to die! Kagami: A battle, heroic and wicked forces clashing? This is what I was born for! Rose: Oh no, that monster is where the hospital is, Mullo, Transform Moi!

Team: "Does not want to do this but has to" Marinette, Nino, Carline, Juleka & technically Lila as she wants to avoid danger.

Juleka: Girlfriend noooo (Trails after her) Marinette: I can't let Alya die, or Chloe try to be a hero, she'll kill us all! Nino: Ok several friends in danger now, guess I gotta do it. Lila: Well, I have a little experience in these matters, maybe I can help us all along to save my new home?

Sass: My power would allow you to better ensure their safety. Bustier: … Sass… Transfor moi. (Runs after them)

& that is basically the just of it!

Also thanks to @generalluxun for convincing me Trixx definitely belongs with Alya! Kaalki and Lila is too good a combo to pass up as well.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #kwami swap #akuma class #fanfiction

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thrawns-backrest · 7 months

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Satellites

Pairing: Galen Erso/Orson Krennic (pre-relationship, can be read as platonic), also Krennic is still a teen here so any romantic feelings are one sided

A little thing I wrote for these two during their time in the Futures Program. Tagging @russiandeathcup and @enaelyork because I think you might be interested in this :) enaelyork, my headcanons are a bit different from yours but I hope I managed to capture the essence of these two nonetheless!

I cut some corners with editing so please excuse me if it's a bit of a mess lol. Finally, all the science stuff is made up as per star wars tradition ___

Waking up was a laborious experience.

But then again, Orson Krennic surmised, he probably wasn’t doing himself any favors by falling asleep the way he did. Raising a hand to rub at eyes that were crusted shut he felt around to check for any additional presences in bed with him and immediately there was a groan to his right while someone else wriggled in dismay. Orson grinned.

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who had passed out before he could summon the good sense to get back to his room.

With some of his good cheer restored he flexed his neck and cracked open an eye to survey some of his previous night's partymates sprawled over each other on the single bed, all in various states of disarray.

The room itself was a similar mess and reeked of alcohol but that was a given since it was the kind of night he barely remembered anything of. And as much as he wanted to sleep the rest of his hangover off (not as bad as last time, he was getting better at this), there was a steady stream of sunlight coming through the window and, well, Orson Krennic had better things to do with his day.

Like making sure there was another pleasant end to it, like last night's.

So he ran a hand through his hair, said a quick prayer of thanks for the lack of any vomit in sight and began the long process of extricating himself from the bed, whispering a quick apology to the girl lying half on top of him as she groaned again.

Some patting down fixed the worst of his uniform and after fishing around for a bit, he managed to find his jacket and tug it out from under one of the senior years before slipping his boots on.

He made a point of tucking his pant legs inside – a personal if unusual style choice but he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing those ugly uniforms without a few tweaks – and before long he was off, striding out into the bright sunlight of Brentaal.

The building he’d somehow found himself in last night turned out to be unfamiliar but a quick jog to the nearest busy walkway had him back on track. Half a year of gallivanting to his heart’s content had ensured he knew most of the grounds like the back of his hand.

And it certainly had its perks.

From his new starting point, he was able to weave his way between dorm buildings, labs and lecture halls until he was at his own dorm complex, bright and gleaming right at the very heart of campus. Normally these buildings were reserved for the cream of the academic crop but in reality most of the people here were simply well connected, much like Orson who had his own wonderful uncle to thank for his placement.

Money, as it turned out, opened a lot more doors than test results. But Orson wasn’t so big of a fool as to underestimate the opportunities the Futures Program offered all by itself.

There was a queue for the turbolifts inside and he bypassed them to get to the stairs. Another trick he’d learned in his time here as this particular stairway connected to the professors’ living wing and he shot one of his instructors a grin on the way up, getting an eye roll and the faintest of smiles in response. A few more weeks, give or take, and he would have them all charmed, he was sure of it.

Level six was buzzing with activity which wasn’t all too unusual despite it being the middle of the day, with classes having long started. At first glance, the Program took itself more than a little seriously but in reality the people that ran the whole thing were well aware that they were as much a university as a daycare center for the kids of the various bourgeoisie that sponsored them. That, combined with the fact that its occasional sundry geniuses were better off left to their own devices, made for a pretty lively atmosphere, especially at this time of day and Orson couldn’t really complain about it.

On the contrary, the whole thing was suffused with a level of charm he couldn’t deny. Not least of all as a fifteen-year-old hungry for novelty and socialization.

Currently though his mind was set on a shower and some breakfast, maybe with a side of painkillers, and he was well on his way to getting them when he had to pause and do a double take.

He stood there for a couple of seconds staring at the open hatch.

This was Galen’s room, his mind supplied vaguely while the currents of hallway traffic flowed around him. So why was the door open?

Cautiously, Orson looked around before taking a few steps forward. The noise from outside became muffled as he entered the small corridor with adjacent fresher that led into the room itself.

Had someone broken in while Galen was away? Though not many did, his friend was definitely the type to get harassed and Orson wondered if this wasn’t some elaborate prank meant to do just that.

His next thought was that Galen, in his typical distracted fashion, had forgotten to close the door behind him when he’d gone out that morning though Orson had to admit that was a bit much, even for Galen.

Reality as it turned out was unfortunately not too far from that.

Orson felt his body slump in both amusement and relief when he finally rounded the corner, glancing deeper into the room.

As lo and behold there was Galen himself, pacing in front of the bed under the far window where a shrine of notes and a few screens lay scattered in artful disarray. His friend’s face was contorted in its usual pensive grimace as he wrestled with the numbers on some piece of flimsi, mouth moving silently as though struggling to follow the flow of his own thoughts.

It was such a profound display, Orson almost felt bad for interrupting it.

“Hey,” He leaned against the wall casually as Galen’s eyes snapped up to him. He seemed confused for a moment before finally realizing who was standing there in the middle of the room with him.

“Orson.” Galen frowned, distracted. “Did you need anything?”

“You tell me, you invited me here.”

This seemed to confuse Galen even more.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did.”

Orson jabbed a thumb in the direction of the doorway.

“You’re inviting everyone in, in fact.”

He mentally counted the seconds while Galen’s brain switched gears and then watched the disgruntlement on his face slowly melt into sheepishness.

“Ah, I must have forgotten to close it when I…right.” Galen mumbled and it took all of Orson’s willpower not to grin. He could envision it now, Galen in a rush to get to the nearest available datapad, practically vibrating with the urge to hunker down and tackle the onslaught of thoughts that were spiraling towards critical mass.

“They should put sensors on these things,” Orson heard him mutter as he threw aside the piece of flimsi, heading for the door.

If only the world were designed for scatterbrains like you, is what he thought to himself privately, suppressing another grin. A hand on Galen’s chest stopped him from getting any further.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it.” Orson nodded with a wink and sure enough, by the time he was back from that impressively short trip, Galen was already hunched over on his bed, staring a hole through his notes and twisting some poor tortured pen in his fingers as he muttered to himself.

Orson made himself comfortable at the other end and leaned back against the headboard as he watched his friend work. For how unusual it was, it was hardly the first time they found themselves in this position. With Galen chipping away at the mysteries of the universe while Orson sat quietly to the side, immersing himself in the peaceful atmosphere of it all and letting his mind drift.

It had become a sort of therapy for him, embarrassingly enough. And it didn’t help that Galen didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, going so far as to make room for him on whatever surface he’d perched himself on. Either that or he didn’t notice Orson at all and accommodated him on autopilot but Orson found that he didn’t mind either way.

This morning the ritual was particularly productive in chasing away the lingering dregs of his hangover and Orson almost found himself drifting off to sleep when he was rudely awoken by the growl of his own stomach.

“You should get something to eat,” Galen said offhandedly, in that way that implied he was on autopilot again.

Orson was just about to agree, reluctantly, when Galen spoke again, directing him to the fridge. Orson felt his brow furrow.

“You have food here?” he asked in disbelief as Galen waved a dismissive hand.

“I stock up at the end of every week.”

Somewhat caught off guard, Orson pondered that for a moment but then decided that he could envision it. Making an unwilling but necessary trip to one of the campus stores and stocking up with a precisely calculated amount of rations to get him through the week was a very Galen thing indeed. It must take some effort, after all, to be this much of a recluse.

Which raised the question…

“Well, I don’t want to eat your food if it means you’ll starve.” Orson frowned but his worries were met with the same dismissal.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

The look on Galen’s face indicated that he had already moved on from the conversation and so despite his hesitation Orson decided that he may as well make use of the offer. It was either that or scour his room for whatever instameal scraps or junk food he hadn’t managed to devour in his drunken stupors and right now that sounded decidedly unappealing.

He got up and padded to Galen’s fridge, opening it to find just what he expected. A small stack of granola bars that he quickly calculated to correspond to three meals per every remaining day of the week.

He shook his head. Galen was a good foot taller than him (the disadvantages of being a teenager and late to his last growth spurt) and this was a pathetic amount of food for him. If it weren’t for the occasional lunch Orson knew Galen’s professors sometimes dragged him out to, he may have been worried. As it was, he simply grabbed the nearest bar and went back to reclaim his spot on the bed.

At the very least, his stomach was grateful for the bland breakfast.

After eating his food as quietly as possible (Galen didn’t like noise while he concentrated), he returned to his earlier state of meditative relaxation. Until at some point he noticed Galen’s face twitch and an ever so subtle change occur in it.

Anyone else might have missed it but Orson had always been observant and part of that entailed being able to discern the differences in Galen’s seemingly passive expressions. He could tell, quite reliably by now, when Galen’s thoughts were racing behind those narrowed eyes and when they had hit a wall. And just now his train of thought had come to a screeching halt.

“Orson, can I ask you something?” Galen muttered after a while and Orson nodded lazily from his spot.

“Mhm, shoot.”

His friend then proceeded to bombard him with two increasingly complicated hypotheses that Orson did his best to follow despite failing miserably by the end. Nonetheless he paid close attention to Galen’s every word, the gestures and diagrams he drew in the air around him as he weaved complex science jargon together.

“So what do you think?” Galen asked hopefully at the end of it all, looking at Orson as though he genuinely believed he could be the solution to his problem. A rather flattering if overly optimistic thought.

Never let it be said that Orson Krennic didn’t come through in a pinch however.

“Here’s the deal,” Orson started, “I understood a fraction of the first one and nothing of the second so it must be that one.”

The explanation didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of agreeing Galen looked oddly contrite all of a sudden.

“Come now, Orson, don’t be like that…” he mumbled and Orson could practically feel the regret radiating off him. So worried that he’d somehow made Orson feel inadequate by getting carried away.

Orson shook his head mentally, allowing himself a little lopsided smirk.

For all that Galen was a plank of wood when it came to tact sometimes and for all that he outstripped most people here in terms of intelligence by light-years, being friends with him could be a surprisingly self-affirming experience. Orson doubted, for one, that anyone cared as much about his feelings and self-esteem as Galen Erso did.

But that wasn’t the point here and Orson hurried to put them back on track.

“No, I’m being serious. Think about it, I have a basic understanding of advanced chemistry and physics, about as good as the average first year around here, and if I was able to get what you were talking about then it only makes sense that someone has already thought of, tested it and proved that it doesn’t work.”

He shrugged and leaned back against the headboard. “It’s just statistical probability.”

This time his wors seemed to get through to Galen and his friend sat there contemplating it for a moment before finally accepting it for what it was.

“I suppose you’re right,” he conceded with a rare smile. “Though I’m not necessarily happy with the reasoning behind it. Thank you, Orson.”

Orson responded with a grin of his own.

“Hey, if nothing else, I’m good at pointing geniuses in the right direction. I have a nose for it.” He stopped as though actually considering it.

“You know, you should probably hire me to do it full time for you. I can see myself with a career like that.”

Galen huffed, already going back to his notes.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

He stuck around for a while after until the urge to change into clean clothes and eat a proper meal finally won out and he left Galen to his silent scribbling.

Later that evening found him ambling down a decidedly more deserted campus with one hand nestled in his jacket pocket and the other loosely holding to the top of a flimsi bag. It was that odd transitional hour when students had already gone home from class and the more avid party goers had yet to spill out into the streets.

The majority were probably still winding down while others were stuck doing last minute work on their assignments.

Orson, being the only master of his own schedule, was on a mission instead.

He trekked the familiar route from the foyer up to the sixth level, bypassing the turbolifts even when there was no queue outside, and stopped in front of Galen’s room to knock. Moments later he heard shuffling inside which was a promising sign as Galen probably wouldn’t have heard him at all if he was in one of his trances.

The door opened to reveal a mussed looking Galen who squinted at him in confusion.

Nevertheless, he quickly moved out of the way when Orson pushed past him to get into the room.

“I’ve got something important to show you, come on.”

The urgency in his voice must have piqued Galen’s interest because he closed the door and shuffled after him without a second thought, probably thinking it was another gadget Orson had lifted from the lab or some other scientific curiosity.

Orson took advantage of it and dropped his bag on the desk Galen had repurposed as an impromptu lab station, stepping back to let Galen open it. His friend’s face instantly drained of excitement as he revealed what was inside.

“I don’t understand,” he mumbled in confusion, staring at the plastic containers and their contents.

Orson snorted.

“Of course you don’t. This,” He pointed at the bag. “is real food. And it’s probably the first time you’re seeing any.”

He let the smirk he’d been disguising finally crawl over his face and took extra joy in the exasperation mixed with grudging embarrassment that bloomed over Galen’s.

And real food it certainly was because Orson didn’t cut any corners. He hadn’t scouted every food place in and around campus, making sure not to get too inebriated in the process, for nothing. If you wanted the best food in radius of two klicks, Orson Krennic was your guy.

Even Galen, seemingly convinced by the smell of freshly grilled vegetables and meat, didn’t complain about his antics for once and they both sat down to eat what was unmistakably better than a chalky granola bar.

In the course of wiping their respective containers clean, they talked about Galen’s research. It was rare to see Galen this animated and Orson studied the reaction as his friend rambled about dead ends and insufficient data.

“I need to do this in a lab,” Galen said, scraping the bottom of his container with his chopsticks. “The geology hall here has a databank on Darellian crystals and a physics simulator built into the display console. If I could use that along with some of the research logged into the databanks, this whole thing would go much faster.”

Orson had been quietly following along, already feeling the inklings of a plan coming together.

“You know what,” he said after a while, “you might be able to do just that.”

It was already dark by the time they ventured out into the cobbled tree-lined walkways. Precious minutes remained until the place was crowded but Galen still clamped a hand over Orson’s mouth, silencing his cackling, when he boldly announced they were once again about to witness the talents of the great Orson Krennic. Orson considered it a personal achievement that he could get stuffy Galen Erso to follow along in his antics.

If he were to give himself even more credit, he would even say that was a smile playing on Galen’s lips.

Convincing the hall’s security guard to let them in was much easier in comparison. Especially when Orson was notorious for wheedling extra lab time for his projects from their professors. Inside, he took a seat on one of the front row benches and once again found himself in that same meditative state as before as Galen flicked between the holoboard and simulation projector, occasionally flipping through an ancient-looking flimsi booklet and scribbling unintelligible notes on the board.

In the meantime, Orson asked himself when he had become so fascinated with Galen. And the answer, frankly, was almost immediately after he’d first seen him.

It’d been during a joined physics class, with freshmen and senior years from all over the Program, when the professor had called on Orson to give an answer to one of the problems. Ever the performer, Orson had detached one of the microscopes’ digital magnifiers and climbed onto the table to spy the answer on the professor’s datapad much to the whole hall’s amusement.

After the excitement had died down the professor had turned to Galen, drawing Orson’s attention for the first time to the tall quiet student at the back of the hall. Galen had given a quick detailed response without even looking up from his datapad and though his odd demeanor hadn’t garnered nearly as much attention, Orson had felt a brief pinch of annoyance at what he perceived as having his spotlight stolen.

That feeling had quickly given way to curiosity however as he kept shooting discreet glances at Galen for the rest of the class. The rest was just a matter of approaching him after the lecture and slowly worming his way into Galen’s awareness until the latter had been forced to admit defeat and relinquish some of his self-imposed solitude.

Orson was nothing if not persistent and Galen – too polite to nip his growing advances in the bud. And given enough time, Orson could make himself agreeable to anyone as he’d been able to prove with Galen.

Which led them to the present moment, with Galen so inured to his presence and casual favors that he allowed him to loiter nearby while he worked – Galen, who valued his personal space more than anything – and regularly updated him on his progress.

It was strange if you thought about it too much. Orson himself couldn’t explain what drew him to Galen in the first place. He’d always thought it was the ostentatious types for him, the loud and exuberant, the ones he could compete with for attention and follow into mischief and glory. Yet there they were, as balanced a duo as you could get.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Galen murmured as if reading his thoughts and Orson watched him get down from the podium to flip a few more pages on his booklet. He scribbled a few more notes on his datapad and pursed his lips in thought.

“Orson could you do these calculations for me, I need this to go faster.”

That brought Orson’s reverie to a stumbling halt and he blinked at Galen, almost panicked.

“Me?” he asked in disbelief. “Doing your calculations? Don’t be ridiculous, Galen, you should just input them into a computer.”

Galen glared at him from his spot at the lecturer’s desk. “That would take too much time. Besides, it’s just some Tivix equations, I know you can handle that.”

Orson was about to protest but Galen was already walking back to the holoboard and opening another window to scribble on.

“I don’t know who convinced you you’re stupid Orson,” he said, his back still turned to him, “but you’re not. You should know better than that.”

The rudimentary protest died on Orson’s tongue and he felt his throat constrict as the meaning of Galen’s words registered in his mind. Finding himself utterly speechless, he averted his eyes to the table in front of him, unable to help it.

Not ‘stupid’, his mind corrected mechanically, but rather not smart enough.

For a horrifying moment, he had the suspicion that Galen had seen right through him there and then. All those times he had avoided doing things the right way, finding roundabout methods and tricks to get the result he wanted rather than tackling the problem head on. Did Galen know what lay beneath it? The crippling fear of inadequacy that Orson fought so hard to suppress?

The lengths he went to to avoid finding out just how incapable he really was?

Did Galen know about all of it?

Orson swallowed heavily, trying to bring his thoughts back under control.

Then tentatively, he got up and walked over to the datapad Galen had left to display a few rows of glowing numbers and barely legible notes.

He’d never thought he would graduate the program. Just like many of the students here, he had never entered it with the intention of getting all the way through. He was just like the people he partied with, careless and enjoying the brief stint of freedom their parents had bought for them to get them out of their hair or add some vague prestigious credentials to their name. Everyone knew the program was filled with people like that.

Orson himself had yearned for the chance to escape his guardians’ supervision, obsessed with the notion of complete independence and the chance of making new contacts. His doting uncle and aunt had been indulgent in allowing him that but nobody had actually ever believed anything would come out of it.

Orson was flighty. Frivolous. Given to indulgence. Things he had long come to terms with and didn’t feel too strongly about to change. He was quick-witted and perceptive, sure, and he had the head to make decent progress in his studies but his future was in politics and public services much like his uncle’s. It was a step down from what he’d always wanted but after some deliberation he had agreed there was ample opportunity there.

Now though, slowly going through Galen’s equations to the sound of his friend’s muttering, he wondered if there wasn’t still a chance for him. That maybe, if someone like Galen saw potential in him, there was a point in at least trying…

Galen wasn’t necessarily a good judge of character but he was surprisingly good at telling what was worth his time and what wasn’t. And if he had tolerated Orson so far, not to mention involving him in his research, then if not his own judgement, perhaps Orson could trust Galen’s. After all it was only fair given how often Galen had taken a leap of faith for him.

Galen was, at the end of the day, an exceptional man. Orson could tell better than anyone. If Galen’s instincts were attuned to the invisible currents of numbers and data, Orson had the same aptitude for telling where the seeds of greatness lied.

That greatness was sure to germinate in Galen and who knows, swept along in its tide maybe Orson could reach new heights as well. Ones that he had never dared hope for before.

Tentatively taking hold of that thought, he let his fingers glide more confidently over the surface of the screen.

Yes, there was merit in giving this a go, he decided privately. And even if he did fail, Orson thought taking one long look at the sure line of Galen’s profile against the glow of the holoboard, at least he would have basked in Galen’s light for a little bit longer.

And he couldn’t find himself objecting to that.

#orson krennic #director krennic #galen erso #galennic #rogue one #star wars rogue one #can be read as platonic or romantic

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cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal · 3 months

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Okay! This is the second piece that I'm tossing out. This one took me a long time to let go of because I really liked a lot of the writing of this one. Unfortunately, the tweaking I'd need to do to save it would absolutely shred it, so it's time I let it go.

This is Built on Lies, a rewrite of the self crash scene from Ortega's perspective involving my Sidestep Rashad Basri. This was written immediately after their first run through Retribution when they were closer to Canon characterization Sidestep and when they went to HG themself (because it was my first run. Of course I was going to see HG). It also plays around with the idea that, while Ortega can't have their mind influenced or manipulated by telepathy, that it didn't mean they weren't psi-sensitive. This has since been shot to hell (/lovingly and teasingly said) by the Rydén himself, hence another reason I just have to let this one go.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I really liked working on this one. Happy reading!

The silence is insufferable. Ricardo doesn't generally like the quiet. He usually finds any excuse to fill it, with idle chatter or flirting or gentle ribbing, anything really. The silences with Rashad are different. He doesn't feel the need to fill up the space between them. Rashad may be unable to read Ricardo's mind, but that resulted in Rashad dropping their mental shields around Ricardo which, in result, means they accidentally projects their thoughts and emotions out and around them.

Ricardo has never mentioned this. He's too worried that if he does, those walls will slam right back up. And he'd miss the heady mix of desire, nostalgia, fondness, and nervousness that radiates off Rashad's mind like the steady waves of the ocean. Rashad's anxiety feels different this time. It chafes against Ricardo's mind as if they don't fit together here. Not now. Not after what Ricardo had seen.

They sit in the front seats of a stolen car - a car Ricardo watched Rashad steal not five minutes ago. Hollow Ground’s haunt is still within view. Rashad is wearing a fine pressed suit that Ricardo has never seen. He would have never guessed Rashad even owned a suit. Everything about the situation makes Ricardo’s stomach twist in unpleasant knots. Nothing feels like it’s as it should be.

"So…" The word hangs between them like a guillotine blade, just waiting to see whose neck it severs first. Ricardo stares at Rashad. His love. His friend. His family. The glare of the Los Diablos sunset pierces through the windshield, painting Rashad's dark skin in warmth. It makes their eyes turn from near black to molten gold. Ricardo wants nothing more than for Rashad to look his way. To say something, anything.

Rashad, as is their wont, says nothing. They stare straight ahead, ignoring Ricardo altogether, their lips pressed into a harsh line. They're driving faster than the speed limit is set, their gaze jumping to the rearview mirror every couple seconds, but with Ricardo in the car they're not likely to be pulled over.

"Talk to me." The words come out of Ricardo's mouth harsher than he intended. He's tired of begging Rashad for every inch. He's tired of pretending to be in the dark. Tired of pretending to simply take every one of Rashad's idiosyncrasies in stride. "You just stole a car. I'd hate to think you did that for no reason."

Rashad hunches their shoulders, their knuckles paling on the steering wheel. "I thought I was being followed, alright? I couldn't tell it was you." They shoot Ricardo a sharp look. "Besides, the driver was drunk. I did him a favor."

Ricardo grits his teeth. There's a vice on his heart and with every word it tightens. Maybe it will be crushed beneath the weight of what's between them. He hopes not. "Why were you in Hollow Ground's club?"

Something hardens in Rashad's dark eyes, but something else begins to crack. This mask won't hold for long, so Ricardo presses harder. "I need to know."

Rashad's irritation is just as predictable as their silence. They switch strategies like clockwork - dancing the same dance they always have. "What were you doing spying on me?"

"I won't let you make this into an argument," he says softly. He means it. He'll press, but he won't fight. "Not this time."

"So I see." Back to silence. Ricardo's never seen what happens if he doesn't give in to the fight. If he keeps needling, will Rashad open up or shut down. He prays it's the former.

"Look." Ricardo sighs deeply. No other way but forward. "I didn't want it to come to this. I had hoped you'd trust me with the truth, but-"

"But what?" Frustration again. Without Ricardo giving in, Rashad’s tactics seem to be stuck in a loop like a broken record.

“I know it must be hard on you.” Ricardo tries to keep his voice soft, consoling. He honestly doesn’t know what he’d do if he was in Rashad’s place. He can’t imagine what it would feel like to be torn between his family and his partner. “I just need to know if you’re on my side.”

There’s a flash of fear in Rashad’s expression before they school it back into ambivalence. Their voice still shakes when they say, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ricardo sighs again, but it’s more in relief than anything. This admission is, at least, a reassurance. He stills wants Rashad to say it out loud. “You know why.”

The stiffness that settles in Rashad’s jaw only lasts a few seconds before everything slips out of place. Their posturing and mask fall away like pieces of jagged glass from a broken window. They look more tired than they've ever seemed before, but also there’s a hint of relief there. “You’re right.” They take a long, slow breath in. “I should have trusted you with this long before now.”

“Finally.” It takes all of Ricardo’s self control to bite back the sharp laugh at the back of his throat. “I was starting to think you’d never tell me.”

“It’s not an easy thing to confess, even when you know.” Their warm voice is soft, hesitant. There’s so much grief weighing down his words. “I should have known you’d find out I’m Heartbreak sooner or later.”

All of Ricardo’s thoughts come crashing full stop like a train into a cliffside. He feels as though Rashad has knocked every breath out of him. He wades through his thoughts, struggling as though pushing through knee-deep mud as the sentence sinks slowly deeper in. He stares at Rashad, jaw working with countless words to be said, but nothing makes it past his teeth.

Heartbreak. The snake in the grass and bane of Los Diablos politicians and corporate bigwigs alike for the better half of a year. A ghost that stalks the shadows, stealing and extorting as he pleases, ousting people from power like it’s a game of chess and he’s simply picking pieces off the board. Ricardo can still see that mirrored helmet, cold and alienating, when he closes his eyes. He still remembers the way Heartbreak’s boot felt against his ribs.

Heartbreak is Rashad. Rashad, who always throws themself into a fight for the weak. Who tries to reach out to every animal that crosses their path. Who cries at corny tv movies. Who looks at Ricardo like he’s hung the moon every time he says something silly. He can’t justify the idea that the person who cried into his arms not a fortnight ago is the same as the villain who sent Herald to the hospital at the Memorial Museum. No, that can’t be right. It doesn’t make sense. “What are you talking about?”

Ricardo sees his own horror mirrored back to him in Rashad’s expression. “You didn’t know,” Rashad says slowly. They look like they want to bolt, even from the moving vehicle. Unfortunately, neither of them can. “Fuck.”

The silence gives way to anger and denial. No. Rashad wouldn’t choose this for themself. They were pressured. They must have been. “Did Hollow Ground force you to do this?” Rage tempers the question into something cold and hard. What could that bastard possibly have over Rashad?

Rashad’s brows furrow. “What makes you think that?”

“It can’t be easy to go against your family…”

“My family?” Rashad draws back like they’ve been struck. There it is again: that fear. Whatever it is that ties them to Hollow Ground must be heavy. “What do you know about my family?”

"Hollow Ground." Ricardo clarifies. But there's something wrong here. He can't quite put his finger on what. "I've seen his face. And I had to know if I was imagining things. So I did some digging, found your arrest records. You were just a kid, but you didn't look so different back then."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" There's a quickness to Rashad's breathing that catches Ricardo's attention.

He supposes it was a breach of privacy. It hadn't been easy finding those records. They'd been sealed and buried and it had taken more than a few greasing of palms to get them. "It must have been hard, breaking from the family business, but I didn't want to dissuade you back then. So I kept your face out of the papers." Ricardo looks down at his hands. He balls up his fists as he lets the anger wash over him. "I guess I should've worked harder. He found you anyway."

“Ricardo-” Ricardo can hear the beginnings of an admonishment. It doesn't come. He trails off, their eyes unfocused as they do so often when something catches their attention telepathically. Their attention zeroes in on something in the rearview mirror in the next second.

Ricardo glances over his shoulder, but not fast enough to see anything before Rashad hits the gas. "Shit!" He presses himself hard into his seat, trying irrationally to put any space between himself and the cars they’re now weaving through. “Watch it!” he shouts as Rashad nearly clips a car they speed past.

Rashad stares out the windshield, intent on finding the fastest ways through the traffic without scraping up the car too much. Their knuckles are pale on the steering wheel. Ricardo can feel the eclectic panic sparking from Rashad’s mind. “We’re in trouble.”

“That’s nothing new!” Ricardo’s voice pitches up on the last word as Rashad pulls a sharp turn.

Ricardo is just barely aware of something streaking past when a sound like a small explosion goes off not far behind them. He can see sparks streaking off the now exposed rim of their back tire as it scrapes across the asphalt. Instinctively, he ducks his head down and out of view of the windows. A gunman? He tamps down on his growing panic. He knows the drill. He's trained for something like this. Back to familiar territory.

His thoughts begin to speed by as Rashad pulls another hard turn. Something isn't right here. Hollow Ground wouldn't have had the time to set up a gunman, especially when stealing a car was a spur of the moment decision. The timing is all wrong, even if Ricardo can see a sliver of motive.

Another shot and his heart skips as they take another jolt. The wheel jerks out of Rashad's grip. There's a split second where Rashad's hand is on his shoulder, grip tight, before he shoves Ricardo back and upright in his seat.

Ricardo tries to protest. They both know the safest thing to do now is duck, not sit up. He only just notices the truck before it makes impact. The airbags explode out and the world goes black.

~ ~ ~

Ricardo comes to as though he has to swim through molasses to get to the waking world. His eye stings in that familiar way that tells him blood is dripping into it. Every muscle in his body aches. He can feel the bruises beginning to form. There's a sharp, spasming pain in his left arm - a malfunctioning emitter, he realizes. That's going to be a problem.

It takes a minute later for him to realize he's hanging upside. Or rather, the car has flipped. Ricardo fumbles with the seat belt, falling to the roof of the car with a groan. He sits there, leaning against one of the slowly deflating airbags, and takes stock of himself. He's not too badly off, all things considered. Sore and bruised, a twinge in his neck, and the malfunctioning emitter, but all in all he's been in worse scrapes. If Rashad hadn't -

His eyes snap open, turning to look at the driver's seat so fast, his neck protests. Rashad is hanging limply in their seat, held only in place by their seat belt. Their face is starting to swell and bruise. They aren’t moving, completely silent, and Ricardo could swear they’re barely breathing.

Panic begins to set in.

"Rashad." Ricardo lightly touches Rashad's shoulder. He gives his love a light shake. "Queride?" He touches Rashad's face as gently as he can manage. They don't respond to the touch. Their breaths are shallow and far between.

Ricardo lunges for Rashad's buckle, making his head swim in the process. He manages to catch Rashad against his chest as they ragdoll down. Just from a glance, Ricardo knows there's something wrong in the way their legs land. He cradles Rashad closer to him, brushing their messy black hair out of their face. "Stay with me, mi amor," He begs, pressing a desperate kiss against Rashad's forehead. "Don't let go."

The thought of losing them should not cut him so deeply, not in light of what he's just learned. It isn't just Rashad he's holding in his arms, it's Heartbreak. He's holding a supervillain, weeping into a supervillain's hair, begging a supervillain to cling to life. He can't seem to find it in himself to care. The thought of losing Rashad again makes Ricardo feel as though he can't breathe. He can't go through this again.

He shoves his hand into his pocket, praying that his phone survived the crash as he fishes for it. He flips it open and hits the emergency line saved in his speed dial. It rings once before someone picks up. "Location?" The curt voice says.

Ricardo glances out the shattered windshield, squinting past the pileup of cars. Between the panic and confusion, he can’t seem to locate the signs. “Corner of Eighth and Maple.” It’s a rough estimate, but it’ll have to do. “I need an ambulance!”

#cigs writes #fic: rashad #ricardo ortega #chargestep #Cigs' trash bin

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tawneybel · 2 months

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Note: Cullen Moss also played Shoupe on OBX. Corrupt authority with pretty eyes. Anyway, sorry for neglecting the inbox. Going to try to finish some requests soon.

Imagine Gorman agreeing to stay away from Joan and Beth as long as he gets you.

I’m not sure why you even bothered asking me, you pretended to say, Dawn’s in charge of who boinks who around here.

He thumbed your tongue, which promptly retracted. A coquettish lick? Smile widening, Officer Gorman swooped in.

Her iron fist’s slackening, you continued. It was hard to shut your brain off. To just daydream while he performed all the cavity searches he wanted. Your thoughts refused to leave Grady Memorial Hospital. At least Gorman could only have his way here. No driving you to remote locations for backseat banging. Misuse of police equipment might still occur. Or not.

Dawn’d cream her well-ironed pants if she knew about Woodbury. (Happier times.)

As long as you complied, no handcuffs, right? If he tried dirty talk on a walkie-talkie, you’d seek him out in person. Beth and everyone else would find out you were Gorman’s... girl. Eventually. Comply, and he might agree to be discreet. Hickeys, other bruises; they could be hidden. A broken spirit couldn’t. Yours couldn’t. Not from Beth. Speaking of whom…

He was friendly to her, at first. Surely he won’t be too sadistic?

You shuddered. A wet thumb ceased rubbing itself against your nipple.

“Sensitive, huh?” Gorman straightened, a saliva strand linking your frown to his smirk. “Nipple-play’ll work just fine.”

“And titjobs?”

“And titjobs,” he affirmed.

Your heart lightened. It was sad that this hunger was the least horrific kind you’d faced since the outbreak.

Whatever you put me through, can’t there at least be orgasms?

“I- I’m good with my mouth. Or so I’ve been told.”

The leer told you that was the right thing to say. In this situation. He wasn’t a cherry hound. Maybe even liked his ladies experienced. But Officer Gorman wasn’t going to have any more ladies. Just you. You would make sure of that.

“I’ll be sure to return the favor.” He went in for another peck. It almost felt nice. The way your tongues meshed. His hot palms against your stiff peaks. Blood flowing to your extremities. Adrenaline as the result of anything other than the threat of being devoured alive.

But isn’t that what he’s doing, too?

At least he left his gear. This would be “vanilla.” Batons are for beating rotters, not beating off. You giggled. Coinciding with his high beam tweaking. Sure making them puffy. Hopefully, your chest would be the only sore thing. That day. You needed to be prepared for whatever perversions-

“God, I can’t wait to see you wriggle around on my cock.”

Then he burrowed his face in your valley. Thumbs still pinned on your caps.

At least he left his gear.

“Condoms.”

You knew even your __-cups couldn’t muffle his hearing. Yet he didn’t stop administering sloppy kisses and licks. Not until you ran a hand up and down his back. His face was flushed. Unnannoyed, though, because his thumb and forefingers continued pinching. Hard.

“Trojans are in short supply. Bareback’s out of the question… unless you want to give me a kid.”

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caspianthegeek · 1 year

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Globe Crowley Cosplay Build

I've been telling myself I'd do this for ages just to document the process and potentially help out anyone else who wants to go down this route so...

I'm going to start with Crowley because he was nominally a smidgen easier. Their outfits are exceedingly similar in this era so there will be a lot of overlap.

Both of them are wearing a doublet with paneled trunkhose, in case you'd like to go down the googling rabbit hole. But let's start at the top and work our way down.

For the wig I actually just nabbed a lace front one on Amazon. I was going to link the exact one but I've now bought so many long red hair wigs that I'm not sure which one it is (thanks Crowley)

Is this the right one? I don't know. I cannot emphasize enough that I have too many red wigs and it is exactly one demon's fault. Anyway, I do recall it parted in the middle and my friend @seedsofwinter helped me use glue to make it go back rather than down the middle because I ran out of time to add some hair to the front. I think I remember trimming it a bit, too.

The beard was just crepe wool, which I'm slowly practicing with for facial hair. The longer beard was a lot easier than the shorter stuff I've tried :D

The glasses were another find by seedsofwinter on Zenni Optical, but I'm seeing those exact frames are retired now. It may be possible to find a similar pair by looking for ones that are small and oval. Most of their glasses can be ordered as sunglasses with a prescription which is wonderful for Crowley cosplays.

A warning: If like me you use Crowley's sunglasses so you can actually see, these ones are horrible for that particular purpose. I think it may have to do with how small the lenses are, they let a lot of light in but you're still looking through darkened lenses and the end result is an inability to see well, but ironically particularly in bright light.

Onto the fun stuff! @tricksyspiritworld recommended the doublet pattern to me (and if you do not follow them, you should. They are a lovely person in addition to being a wonderful cosplayer).

If you want it accurate for Crowley, you do need to adjust the front so that it can layover to button and the neckline a bit. I found that once I added the added fabric for the button, all I needed to do on the neckline was fold it back to take off a triangle at the top and bam, exactly what I wanted. The bottom front also needs to be adjusted, but you can do that with the add-on pieces at the bottom rather than adjusting the main body of it. This is definitely a pattern to mock up and experiment with. I did a lot of tweaking and trying on with the final doublet as well to adjust it.

I don't have a good close up of the fabric, but I went for a black suede. If you look at HD images of Crowley's Globe outfit it's actually got a little bit of a pattern to it, but alas when I actually went to buy the fabric I couldn't find one with the slightly raised pattern and thus black suede it was.

Crowley's buttons actually have a red center, but I thought these were cute and seemed very him-like so I went with them <3 I like buttons :D

The shoulder pieces became known as the burnt croissants as I was working on them. Mine are two pieces of fabric and I honestly just measured my shoulder and then cut pieces that I *thought* would work and sewed them to try. Mine are stuffed with old fabric scraps to give them shape and make them poof.

For the under fabric I used the same black shiny lining fabric I used for the base of the trunkhose (we'll get there) and for the panels I used the same fabric I used for the doublet and panels on the trunkhose. And just... all the hand stitching and then pinning them on the doublet.

Do yourself a favor and pin this as many times as it takes to get it looking right while you're wearing it. You want the croissants to sit on TOP of your shoulder going upwards, not sliding down to your arm at all. Pin pin pin. Try it on. Pin again. Once you've got it where you want it, just slipstitch it into place.

And just like that, you've got yourself a doublet! Oh! Except one last detail. Crowley's actually got some white sneaking out at the wrist.

The amount of time I consider thinking about this bit of lace. Is it a bracelet? Was it a gift? Crowley, are you wearing Aziraphale's shirt? I have so many questions.

Anyway, I just sewed a bit of lace to the end of the jacket sleeve, because I didn't trust myself to always remember a lace-cuffed shirt.

Anyway, let's move on to some fancy smancy pants.

Here's the pattern I used for the Trunkhose: https://www.etsy.com/listing/78233565/rh206-quick-print-elizabethan-1570s-1600?ref=yr_purchases

You'll note, these don't include the panels. They also include some historical additions that I decided to leave off and just simplify the pattern as much as possible.

So for the trunkhose base, I used the included pattern, tried them on, adjusted, adjusted, adjusted. (the real reason I don't sell cosplay commissions is that I adjust too much).

For the base, I used a shiny, shiny lining fabric and lined it on the inside with cotton to give it some strength. For the panels, I used the same pattern but once I cut the fabric, I measured it in two inch pieces and then cut every two inches. I lost a little length to the seam allowance when I added some of the base lining for a backing, and then I started pinning the panels to see what would look right.

The panels should line the entire top, and overlap a bit at the sides at the top. On the bottom, there's going to be some overlap and this is hard to describe but you'll want to start the panels at the front rather than between your legs, but very, very close to being between your legs so that you cover everything. Again with the pin in, try it on, pin it again. I did one leg at a time because omg it's so many panels. So. So. Many. I think there are twelve per leg? It's a lot. Take your time, pin and adjust before you sew them all into place at the top and bottom. Do NOT sew them anywhere in the middle of the fabric.

Also, I advise making an extra panel or two (or three). They can catch and really I think it's a miracle we haven't accidentally ripped one off yet.

Underneath the trunkhose, Crowley has a pair of short trousers which you could sew or... hear me out you can buy a pair of loose capri leggings and then just hem them up. Do yourself a favor and get leggings with POCKETS. Because POCKETS and cosplay. Yes? Pockets!

Add some black thigh high socks and then the shoes. I never did find accurate shoes within my budget so I'm wearing the ones I wore for Bastille Crowley, which I found at TJ Maxx like three years ago in the clearance section. (None of us will be looking at your feet, it's fine)

And all that to get a cosplay worthy of flirting with an angel <3

#good omens cosplay #cosplay build #ineffable partners #Caspian Cosplays #good omens

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firecoloredwater · 1 year

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(This got VERY long and accidentally morphed into a fic. The fic starts with Fax's massacre of Lessa's family and her resulting trauma, and also touches on not-quite-real-world climate anxiety, so caution reading.)

I've thought a few times about how I would rewrite Dragonflight if I were going to, how I'd streamline the plot (merge Fax and Meron, to start) and tweak characterization (F'lar can act basically the same if he's, like, 17 instead of 20-something).

But the fundamental crack at the heart of Dragonflight which I've never been able to resolve is Lessa. Because there are two things which are fundamental truths to Lessa.

The first truth is this: she is Lessa of Ruatha. She is the only survivor of a massacre, the last rightful heir to the kingdom, and she raised herself on those truths. She is, literally, a secret princess disguising herself with filth in order to hide from danger as a kitchen servant. But that's misleading, because those fairytale princesses she shares the shape of just want to escape abuse and live in peace. Lessa is actually the lost prince of a conquered land, come home to slay the tyrant that murdered her father and retake her rightful place as king Lady Holder.

The second truth is this: Lessa of Ruatha must abandon Ruatha, in order to become Lessa of Ramoth, of Benden, of Pern, and save the world.

And she can't know why she needs to go, or that she'll save the world in doing so, because if she knew what she was going to do we wouldn't have a full plot of Lessa figuring out time travel and that she needs to bring the Weyrs forward. You can make it a bit better by letting Lessa actually know what a Weyrwoman is, rather than thinking she's probably going to be F'lar's mistress, but she still has no reason to abandon Ruatha, especially not in favor of Fax's son.

I think, to fix it, Jaxom can't be Fax's son.

Lessa was the youngest of a large family. She had several older brothers and sisters; say around eight kids, average 2.5 turns between them, and even if Lessa was only four when Fax arrived, the oldest would have been around eighteen. But I will, for this purpose, say Lessa was ten, and the oldest were in their twenties.

A family that large, with a few kids grown or nearly so, whose hereditary job involves diplomacy, won't all be at home most of the time. They'll be out checking on important industries, visiting allies, sent to a Hall like the noble girls that will someday give Menolly so much trouble, or sent for fostering like those girls' boyfriends. Given the alliance-building use of fostering and Fax's having already taken over several Holds before Ruath Hold, it would be the obvious thing for Lessa's father to have sent one of his teenage sons to Fax for fostering.

Lessa doesn't think about that. She's ten, and she has just watched her entire family be slaughtered. She is hiding in the watch-wher's den, in shock and terrified. She does not think of it until a few days later, when one of Fax's men drags in a mangled body with hair the same color as her brother's, dumps it beside the rest, and declares the job complete.

Lessa's body is there too, of course, or else there surely would have been a search thorough enough to find her. There was a search, but before Lessa they found a servant's daughter of about the right age and description with a face a touch more Ruathan-typical than Lessa's own, and so the search ended.

Lessa is terrified that Fax or his men might realize their mistake. But no one in Ruatha is much inclined to tell Fax or his men anything they might not want to hear. And Lessa, without knowing it, is the most powerful telepath Pern has seen in generations. Even without intention, her desperation to remain undetected is enough to exert pressure on the minds around her.

No one identifies the servant girl. No one looks in the watch-wher's den. No noise that comes from the den sounds like a human child. No one wonders why, in the evenings, someone feels the need to leave human-suitable food near the watch-wher's den, or where it vanishes to before morning.

When Lessa finally emerges, no one wonders where this new servant girl came from. No one questions her soft hands or fancy speech or condescending attitude. They snap at her for being unskilled, and give her the hardest, simplest work, and think no more of it.

It takes weeks, months, for Lessa's shock and horror to settle enough to allow fury to emerge in more than flashes. It takes years for her to work out any plan more specific than survive, and make him pay. It also takes years, though perhaps not quite as many, for her to notice the pressure she can exert on other people without their notice, and to learn to do it intentionally.

By the time Lessa is twenty, Ruatha develops a reputation for being cursed. What grows there grows poorly. What few crafters remain seem to lose their skill. And there are the accidents: rockfalls, impossible fires, drunken fights that turn deadly, all manner of things which can kill, and often do. The more highly-placed a man is (or a woman, though few women can be described in such terms in Fax's Holds) the more accidents seem to find him.

There is weight in the air of Ruatha: the weight of grief, of hatred, of fury, of pain. A constant pricking on the back of the neck; the scent of blood perpetually half-imagined. Healers advise those with poor hearts to avoid Ruatha if possible, or if a visit is necessary, to leave quickly: something there makes the heart race and strain, and given time, a weak one will fail.

But that's not going to stop F'lar!

F'lar is 17, superior, young enough that he has never yet failed, and frantic with terror in his own way. Even a teenage bronzerider outranks all people but more senior bronzeriders (though every bronzerider is F'lar's senior), and F'lar wears both his power and his arrogance like a gaudy cape: he sneers, he orders, he demands, he pushes, and those who are preoccupied with anger and frustration about his attitude--which is nearly everyone he meets--rarely wonder why he demands the things he does, why he is so obnoxious as to stop and ask drudges idle questions about the weather and the upkeep of the Hold.

The truth is, F'lar is arrogant. His father was wiser, but his father is dead, and so F'lar is the smartest man in the world, and never wrong. He considers any behavior other than giving him what he wants to be obstructionism, all people to be his inferiors, and inferior people behaving in obstructionist ways to be the worst possible transgression. As such, he dislikes nearly everyone he meets, and enjoys needling, insulting, and upsetting them. His status makes retaliation impossible.

The truth is also this: F'lar sees the apocalypse coming, and he does not know how to stop it. He has read about how threadfall will consume the planet, and with it all of Pern's people. He knows how many dragons are needed to guard the planet, and how small a fraction of that number currently live. He has watched the Red Star grow nearer, and he has listened to every adult dismiss him with the insistence that it's not that bad, there's nothing to fear, there is no danger coming, and so nothing should be done.

F'lar's father died, and left to him the duty of saving the world. F'lar has never failed before, and he clings to that fact with the same desperation that Lessa clings to Ruatha, and all its recent history.

F'lar is searching for candidates, for the future Weyrwoman and future riders, but he is also searching for allies and scouring every Hold he passes through for its prevailing attitudes and common knowledge. Do the crafters' sons know the Ballad of Moreta? Do the farmers have enough children to weed the fields as thoroughly as they ought? You there, drudge--what do you think of this grass among the paving stones?

He is not pleased by the answers.

F'nor is older, but he calls himself sixteen. He follows F'lar loyally, as a younger brother ought, as a wingsecond must. He goes where F'lar points and does what F'lar asks, and no one questions his motives: as a loyal wingsecond and little brother, he is motivated only by obedience. No one questions, either, when he finds the free time to put on a charming smile and chat with the girls near his age. Did many of the herdbeasts have twins this spring? How has the fishing been; more storms than usual again this turn? That outbreak of illness he heard of in the next Hold over, have the healers gotten it under control yet?

It is true that F'nor is loyal to his father's favored son, and follows F'lar's orders without complaint. That does not make his obedience thoughtless, nor does it mean he lacks his own initiative.

And so they wind through Fax's holds. Here and there, they pick up people as they go: some on Fax's orders, some on F'lar's. Sometimes there is disagreement, in which case F'lar's preference wins, but sometimes things align perfectly, as with a couple they overtook on the road to Ruatha: young man and pregnant wife, with an old runnerbeast and their life packed into a cart. If F'lar insists the young man is a strong candidate (enough that an exception may be made for his age), and wishes to take him to the Weyr, the couple will have to leave all their belongings behind in Ruatha. Fax is hardly inclined to refuse.

The young couple, of course, join the party for their own reasons.

Fax and F'lar do not think of this. F'nor does, and speaks to the couple with smiles and offers to reason with F'lar on their behalf should they find that they hate life in the Weyr. He concludes that they had no plans, that a future in the Weyr is as good as any, and that the common people are rarely inclined to argue with men such as F'lar.

And so the party reaches Ruatha, last of all Fax's Holds, as Fax had hoped that F'lar would find what he was looking for elsewhere and leave before the visit become necessary. Fax keeps his guards close: meat shields in case of accidents.

The visit goes much the same as in canon. Oh, it differs in the details, in the people present and the conversations they have, but Ruatha is still a place of bad food and worse feelings. Fax is tense, irritable, angry, and F'lar loves to needle.

But some details are critical. Gemma, who breaks an argument despite her best efforts by going into labor, is the wife of the young couple. As she is not Fax's wife, this pauses the argument, but does not resolve it, and under the pressure of Lessa's will, it soon resumes.

But F'lar is a dragonrider. For years, he has lived with Mnementh as a presence and pressure on his mind; he is well used to acting only on his own will, and not on the stray thoughts of others. And so it is not him that breaks and initiates a duel. Nor is it Fax, who is less resistant to Lessa's will but deeply fearful of this malevolent place, and unwilling to leave the circle of his guards over insults that F'lar has been provoking him with this entire trip.

It is the young man who steps forward, shaking with his own and Lessa's will, and announces himself as Lokan, a surviving son of the late Ruathan Lord, and the rightful ruler of Ruath Hold.

It is, of course, Lessa that allows her brother to win. Fax is a powerful, experienced figher, and Lokan cannot match him.

But Lessa is there. She drags pebbles under Fax's heel, clouds his mind, and slows his reactions. In the end Lokan is wounded, but Fax is dead, and Ruath Hold belongs once more to Ruathan blood.

F'lar is reluctant to let his star candidate go, but if F'lar were to deny Lokan's claim to Ruatha, Lokan would have to be executed. Besides, Fax was no use to F'lar, and the lord holders that replace him might be, and so F'lar declares the Weyr's recognition of Lokan as the rightful Lord Holder of Ruatha. Fax's men are sent away with minimal bloodshed, though perhaps a few accidents.

Lessa reveals herself to her brother, and Gemma survives the birth of her and Lokan's son. Perhaps he is named Jaxom; perhaps his parents name him instead after Lessa, or Lokan's murdered father, or Gemma's father, who saved Lokan's life years ago.

F'lar seeks out Lessa, to her complete disinterest. But Lokan, while in hiding, was in a completely different sort of hiding than she was. He was warned and spirited away by minor holders, allies of their father. In addition to being much older than Lessa when their family was killed, he still had access to harpers and lessons while in hiding, and he understands politics. He encourages Lessa to go to the Weyr, as a Weyrwoman would wield political power and be able to back Ruatha's recovery in a way no other ally could.

It is a brief day, perhaps two, of relief and joy, before Lokan's wounds develop an infection. Less than a week after reclaiming his Hold, he dies.

His son is only days old, but still the rightful heir, and Lessa will never want to interfere. Lady Gemma becomes regent. As she expected and trained to be Lady of Ruatha while it recovered, she is well prepared despite her grief.

Lessa, victorious and devastated and reeling, follows her brother's wishes to the Weyr, and the promise of power that she can use to protect her nephew and sister-in-law.

She will, of course, find the power to do much more than that.

#Pern #Dragonriders of Pern #DRoP #Dragonflight #meta #fic #I didn't INTEND to fic And Yet #not certain if this counts as gore but it's at least strongly implied #what with this all starting with a massacre #also slightly-off-of-real-world climate anxiety #and murdered children #as part of the massacre #but probably worth singling out for clarity #I have not proofread this at All #I'll reread it tomorrow and do typo checks and probably also some edits for clarity #but right now it is Too Long and I intended to sleep a few hours ago

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blorbologist · 11 months

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Hello, I’m sorry if you got this ask twice but I’m not sure if it went through the first time. I read your response to another nonnys ask about Percy’s opinion on adoption but I was wondering why it wouldn’t have been accepted so much when Vex suggested it in Well-versed in wishing? I know things were different in that scenario (unmarried) but why wouldn’t it have been a good idea if the de Rolos were no longer like monarchs anyway?

Hi anon!

I'd first like to point out that 'Vex and Percy are together and can't have kids' is a hugely different context to 'Percy is single and sad and pining and is getting on in years'.

In the former, Vex and Percy can decide what's best for them and their family, and their happiness comes first (which Percy only considers once Vex coaxes him into caring for himself too). In the latter, it's Percy... but given how little he prioritizes his own well-being, he would downplay his own emotional needs in favor of what is, politically, the most logical choice, instead of taking a half-measure.

There is also the source of the pressure. In Well-versed in wishing, pressure comes from other members of the council + the populace. Regardless of what Percy and Cass think and can do, they are still symbols that Whitestone will likely cling to for security. The AU also notes that there was trouble with distant relatives in the past (which would be less of an issue if Percy or Cass were married, because of the implied stability + potential for heirs), so Whitestone as a whole is very aware of how precarious their lineage of Just and Right and Heroic de Rolos are and would be more wary of ones without a clear blood tie. Due to this being several decades later, they also have a recent historical example of how there is some unrest in Wildemount given King Dwendal'a situation with his heir. Whitestone wouldn't break up a happy childless marriage between two of its heroes and leaders, or huff about them adopting kids. But the city does look a lot less stable without a power couple at its head, and might compensate the other way with clear, indisputable heirs. Even better if they also get the power couple too.

Also: it's an AU with a specific end result. Sometimes you have to tweak the context and pressures to produce the story you'll find interesting to tell. And in this case, it's MILF Vex and DILF Percy marriage of convenience hopelessly pining.

#in the future - if I don't answer an ask... It’s likely because I'm busy / it's not a fun one to poke at /#Or I just don't see it. and I do not Like the expectation that if I don't answer soon enough to your liking you'll resend it #this question just... didn't inspire me. it's all pretty obvious why the context is different?? also it's an AU. that occurs decades later.#q

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cardboard-box-of-beans · 1 year

Text

finished Frontiers about an hour ago, have some disorganized thoughts

Massive spoilers under the cut

General/gameplay stuff:

-I played the PC version. My laptop's a bit of a potato so I had to crank the graphics settings way down and still had a lot of chugging going on (and it broke a couple of the cutscenes)

-But despite having to fight hardware limitations the whole time, I enjoyed it! There's some jank (and I don't think it's just a result of hardware limitations since I've heard other people struggling with it), but on the whole, the open world was a blast to play through even with the chugging. And Cyberspace wasn't too bad actually, though I might be looking upon it more favorably since it didn't have framerate drops on my device like the open world did; if the open world wasn't having such severe framerate drops for me it probably would've blown Cyberspace out of the water. (I'll have to play this game again on better hardware sometime.)

-IKARUGA IN A SONIC GAME

-BOTTOM TEXT

-Chaos Island had some major issues gameplay-wise but I'm willing to forgive it for Ikaruga

Soundtrack:

-HOLY SHIT THE SOUNDTRACK.

-I think this is my favorite Sonic soundtrack ever.

-I will be coming back to this tag to scream about each and every song in this soundtrack over the next couple of years, mark my words.

-It all bangs. You know it all bangs. Moving on

Story:

-To be honest I wasn't huge on the actual *story,* but I really enjoyed most of the character writing, so I think it all balances out.

-The Kocos were cute. But the Ancients and the End were kinda just there, IMO?

-The Sonic corruption plot being resolved that quickly was kinda dumb. I think it's probably an even bigger anticlimax than the Null Space breakout in Forces was (though the presentation was better, so I can give it that).

-Plot beats aside, I like this Sonic portrayal overall, and Tails and Knuckles were both done SO MUCH justice. I'm so proud of my boys. (The scene where Sonic reassures Tails was the first time I've ever cried at a Sonic game, I- the funny two-tailed fox got to me, ok?)

-I liked Amy too, though I think they might have gone a little *too* subdued with her? I could probably go into some more organized thoughts about her later, but eh

-Sage is where things get a little bit *interesting,* because I really like her as a character. I think the contrasting teal-white vs. red-black color scheme thing ties in really nicely with the Ikaruga hacking minigame duality thing, I like Ryan Bartley's performance, and I mean... she's an AI in the process of self-actualization who (at least to my reading) desperately craves validation, of course I was gonna get attached. And I really like her dynamic with Sonic.

BUT I'm not sure how I feel about her dynamic with Eggman. I'm not necessarily opposed to an Eggdad kind of approach (though I recognize that some people weren't gonna be fond of the Eggdad thing no matter what, and I think they've got the right to feel that way), so I feel like for me personally, had Frontiers taken the time to really develop their dynamic I'd find it easier to swallow. But as-is, it feels too rushed to really justify the departure between how Eggman usually treats his creations and how Eggman treats Sage.

(Personally after that Chaos Island cutscene, I was halfway expecting Sonic to get Sage to join up with the gang and turn against Eggman, like with Knuckles in S3&K. It's been a while since we've seen the "bad guy of the week turns good and teams up with Sonic to defeat Eggman" trope. Maybe I'll write an AU about that someday.)

Anyway, at least she's got the potential to appear in future games courtesy of the true ending, so maybe they'll make some more changes to her dynamic with Eggman later on down the line. I dunno.

-Mike Pollock gives an excellent performance as Eggman (to the surprise of absolutely no one), but other than that... Eggman was just really out of focus in general? I think I saw someone saying that you could probably tweak the story to cut Eggman out of it entirely and not much would change, and I'm inclined to agree. Which is a shame- I was hoping he'd have more of an impact. Getting the seventh Chaos Emerald on Ouranos was nice, but felt like too little too late after he spent most of the game's cutscenes stuck in the same Cyberspace level. (His voice memos talk about seeing replicas of South Island, Westside Island, and even Angel Island in Cyberspace. Give us more locales, you cowards!)

Overall:

-It was pretty clear they ran out of budget after Chaos Island (and I know I'm not the first to say this, either).

-There was a lot of jank, and some questionable decisions in terms of both story and gameplay.

-But... I liked Sonic Frontiers! And I'm glad I get to say that, after the absolute rollercoaster that this entire marketing cycle was.

Anyway, I'm off to go listen to Undefeatable on loop for the next 24 hours. See y'all later!

#bean spilling #sonic the hedgehog #sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers spoilers

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famedroleplay · 1 year

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Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll regarding Quantum! I’ve got the update on that for you all under the cut, as well as a few other updates to groups and the points shop. Aside from one or two, the group updates aren’t as major as Quantum’s, and the points shop updates are just the addition of new claims!

Group Updates

The vote came out at roughly 70% to 30% in favor of the Ateez/Enhypen/Tomorrow X Together configuration.

I have updated Quantum accordingly, with their name slightly altered to Quantumphase (also stylized Quantum/phase) This is both to reflect an updated brand identity as well as to help separate the previous version of Quantum to the new Quantumphase since the changes were major enough I felt that that was necessary. Their new page can be found here and they are once again open for applications as of this post.

I also did just a little bit of ‘spring’ cleaning before the end of the year to tighten things up. As a result, there have been slight tweaks to Ultraviolet and Cloud’s existing discographies (just the removal of Bvndit and Wanna One as model groups and the addition of couple past comebacks as a result). This shouldn’t affect any aspect of either group’s image, backstory, etc. IVE has been added to Candy to add in progressing their storyline of image evolution in the future.

A bigger change has been made to the group previously called Andromeda. They’ve been changed similarly to Quantumphase. They are now called Arcadia and have LOONA and Le Sserafim model groups. Their new page can be found here.

Calypso as a group has been removed as a playable group due to lack of interest. It’s been several months since any reserves or other interest has really come in for Calypso and though I considered a variety of ways to update them similarly to Quantum and Andromeda, I wasn’t able to come up with anything that fulfilled all three goals of likely generating more interest, staying true to Calypso’s place as one of the more senior groups, and not creating too many groups with concepts that are too similar. The spot has been turned into a past artist NPC group spot on Dimensions’ history page. A playable group may be added back to that spot in the near future if I’m able to find something that fulfills my requirements, but for now, Dimensions will have only Polaris, Quantumphase, and Arcadia as playable groups.

Though I only updated groups there were no muses in, I believe I reached out to anyone whose claims were affected by these tweaks to see what they’d like to do. If I missed you, please let me know!

I’m still working on updating all locations that ‘Quantum’, ‘Andromeda’, and ‘Calypso’ might be used, so consider that a work in progress for the moment.

Points Shop Updates

I’ve finally had the chance to add some claims to the points shop I’ve been meaning to add. Some of these were suggested/requested through our submission box, so thanks as always to everyone who sends their ideas in there. The following have been added:

Foreign market music claims, currently limited to Japanese, Chinese, and English-language albums targeted towards major markets that speak those languages (Japan, China/Taiwan, USA/Canada/UK/Australia respectively). These do not get a promotion period like Korean market albums do since most of these countries do not do music shows, at least not the same way Korea does, but these albums will allow your muse to officially debut in a foreign market.

Non-promoted collaboration singles and features with NPC foreign artists (in any language). How these work is best explained by reading the information and rules on these!

Single albums (for both Korean market and foreign market releases). These sit in size (and waiting periods) between digital singles and mini-albums.

Foreign acting projects. Again it’s important to read the rules here, and the qualifying roles are fairly limited due to these often putting a muse outside of the main center of action of the roleplay for an extended time, but acting claims in non-Korean dramas are claimable now/again.

Voice acting.

Brand event attendances.

YouTube vlog, dance performance, and cover releases on group/company YouTube channels. There still may be versions of this in schedules, but this allows you to claim them outside of schedules without a personal YouTube channel. This includes the new ability to have choreography or re-arrangement credits for a muse on certain dance performances or covers. A personal YouTube channel is still available, as that claim allows more frequent posting and more freedom.

A foreign variety show add-on for short-term variety main cast positions.

There has also been a slight rule change for variety claims. You no longer need to wait nine months to claim an ongoing show that doesn’t run on a season system (to see if it’s long-term or not), but if you claim an ongoing variety position, you must claim it as long-term and you will be refunded the difference if the show ends / the position reference leaves the show before a year.

Naturally, forms, rules, information, etc. for these may get tweaked as any submissions or questions come in and I realize I need more information from you or I need to share more information with you, but they’re claimable as of this post going up. Only voice acting and brand event attendances out of these are available for established career claims, since the other claim types are more complicated.

Thanks everyone for your patience! If you feel any of these changes make a revamp an ideal option for you at the moment, please let me know and I’ll let you have one for free (no wiping of claims/points, even if you’ve already used your one free revamp) through the end of the year since several things changed. Just let me know a reason if you feel you need to revamp.

#famedadmin #queued post

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bananainter · 2 years

Text

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simbouquet · 2 years

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TS3: Get to Know Fix +

Here's a mod that fixes some borked Get to Know functionality and incorporates some extra tweaks related to learning traits. 🤓

More info and download under the cut!

This mod’s scope has expanded quite a bit since I first released it in 2022! For clarity’s sake, I’m dividing the description of its functionality into three sections:

Get to Know Fix

In the vanilla game, learning another Sim's traits with the Get to Know interaction appears to be near-impossible unless your Sim has the Charismatic trait. This can lead to unnecessarily low compatibility and BFFs who know nothing about each other.

The reason why this happens seems to be a mistake where the game only accounts for Charismatic Sims' chances at learning traits through this interaction and forgets about pretty much everyone else. This part of the mod remedies that by making sure all Sims get their chance to learn other Sims' traits when performing Get to Know.

Get to Know Fix incorporates the following features:

All Sims will now have the possibility of learning about another Sim's traits when they Get to Know them based on their chances. Originally, only Charismatic Sims were able to learn other Sims' traits.

Sims who visit their descendants in Oasis Landing will use the correct chances of learning traits about their future family. Originally, the game only used the Charismatic chances, even if the Sim initiating the interaction doesn't have that trait.

Sims who have completed the Personable skill challenge get the advantage of a flat boost in their chance of learning traits. The game originally implied that Personable Sims could learn traits faster, but completing the challenge didn't actually favor them in any way.

The target of a Get to Know is able to learn one of the initiator's traits based on the chances they roll according to their own traits. This means that a Get to Know interaction can now result in either Sim learning the other Sim's trait, sometimes both, and sometimes neither. This way, Sims in inactive households will also be able to learn other Sims' traits. This feature can always be disabled via tuning.

More Discoverable Traits

By default, there are a series of traits that Sims are never able to learn in their interactions with others no matter what. These traits include No Sense of Humor in the base game and many other traits from across all the Expansion Packs.

While mmsbludhound's Trait Discovery Fix has been around for a while and solves exactly that, it also comes with the downside that a blank notification will display when a Sim learns any of these traits. The More Discoverable Traits part of this mod is my own spin on this idea, plus some enhancements.

By default, the mod allows Sims to learn all the regular traits of other Sims, as well as a selection of hidden traits and Lifetime Rewards:

Hidden traits can be learned as long as they're fully suitable for gameplay, such as NPC-inherited traits. Sims will never be able to learn occult-related traits or traits with a special technical purpose. E.g., Pyromaniac is a discoverable trait, Junior Mascot is not.

Lifetime Rewards can be learned as long as they are trait-based and visible in the Lifetime Rewards panel. Object-based or occult-related Lifetime Rewards can never be discovered. E.g., Steel Bladder is a discoverable Lifetime Reward, Teleportation Pad is not.

All of the newly available traits properly display a notification when learned by a Sim.

Discovery of hidden traits and lifetime rewards can always be disabled via tuning.

Keep in mind that this mod doesn't make hidden traits visible in a Sim's traits panel, nor does it give Sims reward traits automatically. Without use of other mods, you still have to give your Sims these rewards manually before other Sims can discover them.

Auto Learn Traits

Two of my biggest gripes with the game’s trait discovery system are EA premade Sims not knowing any traits from Sims they share a relationship with, and inactive Sims around town never learning any new traits despite socializing and progressing in their relationships. These circle right back to the issue of Sims not knowing anything about their friends and romantic partners.

I’ve written Auto Learn Traits to solve those annoyances by assigning learned traits to all Sims in town and allowing inactives to continue learning traits as they interact with each other:

All residents who have a relationship with each other will have a number of known traits assigned between them the first time a save is loaded with the mod installed.

Homeless Sims will also have known traits assigned for each of their relationships as the game instantiates them.

Inactive Sims will discover more traits from other Sims as their relationship changes through normal gameplay.

Inactive working Sims will periodically learn traits from their boss and coworkers based on their relationship.

Multiple factors are taken into account when assigning known traits between two Sims:

Each relationship status has a tunable minimum and maximum of traits that can be discovered. Sims who don't know each other too well won't be able to learn as many traits as Sims who have been friends for a while.

The relationship level between Sims modifies the number of traits that will be discovered. Sims with a lower relationship level will learn up to the minimum traits, and Sims with a higher relationship will learn up to the maximum traits.

Sims who live together get a tunable flat scoring boost that makes it possible for them to learn more traits than they normally would. This value works in conjunction with the relationship level of the Sims involved; higher relationships can learn more traits.

Sims who have shared or conflicting traits are more likely to learn those traits depending on whether their relationship is positive or negative. The chances of this happening are tunable.

After the known traits have been assigned, the pair of Sims will have a tunable cooldown lasting 168 hours (7 days) that prevents them from learning more traits until the time is up, which keeps them from reaching the max available traits too fast.

Auto Learn Traits can always be disabled via tuning.

Tuning

You can customize many of the features of this mod by opening up the .package file in s3pe and editing the Tuning XML resource in a text editor of your choice.

There are a ton of tunables; I’ve tried my best to organize them neatly and include clear descriptions about what each one does so that you can easily tweak the mod to your liking.

Language Support

This mod is currently translated in the following languages:

English

Chinese (by Flinsy)

Czech (by ProtectusCZ)

French (by SecretX)

Italian (by @pixelhacked)

Portuguese — pt-BR (by Aeri)

Russian (by phantom99)

Spanish — both es-ES and es-MX (by yours truly!)

Other languages will display the text in English.

Translation submissions in more languages are appreciated - for string editing I recommend s3se STBL Editor.

Compatibility

This mod is now fully compatible with tuning mods that edit the Traits, SocialComponent or TraitTuning resources in GameplayData. My mod will apply its changes over any XML mods that you have installed, so they can coexist without any conflicts. The only caveat is that if you have a mod that specifically edits the chances of learning traits, you should edit my mod's tuning to reflect that in order to make my mod read the values you want to use.

This mod is redundant with mmsbludhound's Trait Discovery Fix. Get to Know Fix does the same things that Trait Discovery Fix does, and then some. If you want to use this mod, you should delete that one.

Custom traits are unaffected by this mod.

Download: SFS / MTS

Place the .package file in your Packages or Overrides folder.

If you have an older version of Get to Know Fix, More Discoverable Traits and/or Higher Chances of Learning Traits, please delete them before installing this mod!

Additional Credits

Trait Discovery Fix: Inspiring me to create these mods. I used mmsbludhound's code to write the More Discoverable Traits part of the script.

nraas: I studied the code of their mods to learn how to reach into the game's Action Data via scripting, which allowed me to swap out EA's Get to Know code with my own.

Battery's Script Mod Template Creator: Getting started with scripting quickly.

dnSpy: Peeking into the game's files.

Visual Studio 2022: Writing the script.

s3pe: Exporting/Importing resources, creating the package file.

Adobe Photoshop 2024: Creating the preview image.

Thanks to @lazyduchess for helping me out with scripting!

Thanks to Ubercuber123 and @misspats3 for their feedback!

Thanks to @zoeoe-sims for nudging me in the right direction when I ran into trouble with the code!

Thanks to @probablyzora for his feedback during testing!

#mycc:ts3 #ts3:gettoknowfix

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hongism · 3 years

Text

04 - s.mingi + degradation (18+)

» s.mingi x gn!reader » 18+ dni if minor » language, explicit smut, cock caging, degradation, praise, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, manual stimulation, anal fingering, use of sex toys/dildos, use of a riding crop, oral sex: m receiving (but not really), some impact play/cock slapping, use of gendered slurs (directed at mingi), dacryphilia, subspace, dominant reader, submissive mingi » wc 2.7k » link to masterlist

today you have mingi on his knees, skin pressing into the pale carpet in a way that looks more comfortable than it really is. it’s deceptively innocent, even without an ounce of clothing on his body and feet tucked under his ass like he’s trying to seem smaller than he actually is. it won’t work in his favor; such behavior never does when he’s already gone this far.

instead, it earns him a light smack over the top of his thigh with the riding crop in your hand, and the impact draws a whimper from his full lips seconds later. a slight bit of saliva trickles out the corner of his mouth, enough to catch on his chin and stop there before falling further. the visual is intoxicating in a lot of ways, things you don’t like to admit outside the bedroom out of fear of ruining the pretty, picture-perfect innocence you seem to bear there. some part of your brain does wonder what those people would think seeing you dominate mingi in this way when they always assume him to hold that position in your relationship.

on his knees, drooling and whimpering with a solid metal cage around his big useless cock, and you over him with a smile on your lips.

it’s intoxicating.

“you enjoy this, don’t you?” you inquire. the edge to your tone feigns true curiosity but your gaze says otherwise, something borderline sadistic to the way you look down at the man on his knees. “must be so hard having such a nice big cock only to have it locked up right now.”

the riding crop pushes under his chin. you raise his head to look more clearly at his face slowly, admiring the glisten on his brow and in his eyes. something twists in your brain.

you want to see him cry.

“i asked you a question, baby boy.”

mingi’s thighs twitch at that nickname, a blatant cue to how much he enjoys it, and his watery gaze flits up to look you in the eye.

“there’s my pretty baby, looking all good and needy for me,” you coo. there’s a faux innocence in your words, lacing some easy praise in to heighten the blow you’re about to deliver. “what a pathetic slut.”

if he could crumple to the floor, you don’t doubt that he would do so now, but he has enough sense to stay put despite how the words send a shudder through his spine. he tucks his hands further under his legs, pressing between where his calves and thighs squeeze together and make his skin splay like the perfect canvas for you to paint on. the red streaks across his pale skin, the sheen of sweat over them, and the way his muscles tremble from the effort of keeping still — he’s a masterpiece, one of your own creation, and you don’t plan on letting anyone else see him.

for now, though, you wish for those crystalline tears to fall, you want to see spit smeared over his neck and chest, and you want to hear him gag prettily for you.

“what do you want, baby?” you take a moment to squat down to his height, head tilting to the side as you look him in the eye. “want me to touch you?”

mingi offers his first weak nod of the night as his cheeks flush a pretty red and he ducks his chin to the side.

“good boy.” perhaps it’s a bit too cruel, the way you lower the riding crop further and slip the tip between the small gap in his cock cage. the leather digs into his dick, teasing his slit enough to make mingi writhe under your touch. he’s still good though — still stays put and doesn’t try bringing his hands out from where they’re losing feeling between his legs. it’s going to result in his first ruined orgasm, and you count the seconds in your head before he cries out and a weak trail of cum spills through the slit of metal encasing. “must be hard having to cum like that, baby. can’t even put your big dick to good use, huh?”

“n-no,” mingi whimpers as you pull the riding crop back and hold it to his face.

“clean it for me.”

his tongue slips out like he’s putting it on display. you give him a sweet smile that’s deceptively innocent again. the first slap of the leather on his tongue is a shock to him. it’s almost enough for him to lose his position and grab for his crotch, and you’re nearly tempted to take the cage off for him so he can cum properly. he has to earn that right though. you only give him two more sharp hits to the tongue before turning away and stepping over to the edge of the bed. mingi pants behind you, almost dog-like in how hard he’s breathing.

“need a break, princess? what’s your color?”

“green…. ‘m okay, ‘m okay, p-promise,” mingi huffs out in response, lifting his gaze to you as you look back at him over your shoulder.

“my pretty baby, you’re so good for me,” you singsong back through a tight-lipped grin. “made to be my perfect little toy… made for me, yeah?”

“y-yes.”

you exhale a breathy laugh despite his affirmation not being funny in the slightest.

“you aren’t being so chatty tonight, love, are you sure you want me that badly?”

“i do!” mingi almost stumbles over his words in the rush he makes to affirm them, and another laugh slips free, one that comes from your chest with more force. “i do, please, i want you.”

“please?” you echo, arching a brow at the collection of toys before you. you settle on one in particular and pick it up with delicate fingers and a smirk.

“please, please, i’ll beg, i’ve been good. i’m still in position! i’m being so good for you, y/n, i really am, right?”

“you are…” you turn back towards mingi, letting a genuine smile of adoration come over your lips. “you’re being my perfect little princess, baby. the perfect toy for me. you’re always so good, aren’t you?”

mingi nods like a man possessed, motions erratic in his rush to affirm your words. you press the head of the dildo in your hand further into your palm.

“do you wish this were you?” the stroke you give to the shaft is long and obnoxious, emphasizing the twist of your wrist and how you squeeze the base lightly. mingi goes dumb for a moment; his gaze flits over the silicone then up to your face then back down to your hand that repeats the rhythmic motions. “can’t even use your stupid cock to please me right now, but that’s okay, right? you can get off if i fuck myself with this in front of you, no?”

the whimper that leaves mingi is borderline pathetic.

“don’t worry, my love. i won’t do that to you. you’ve been so good for me tonight… there’s no need for punishment, okay?”

“promise?” he asks, lashes growing wetter by the second. your gut twists and turns, the desire to see those tears fall over the balls of his cheeks rising up only for you to squash it a second later.

“promise, baby boy.” you step closer to him again, and rather than kneeling down to his height, you merely stop before him and lower the flesh-toned dildo to his lips. “won’t you be a good cockslut and suck for me?”

it’s a lewd mimicry of an actual blowjob — the visual of him taking the dildo that’s settled in your palm right beside your hip almost makes it look real. his lips stretch around the girth, the size of it almost akin to how his own erection would look if not for the metal keeping him locked up right now. there’s a certain haziness to the way mingi blinks up at you, the motions slower than normal like he’s thinking too hard about it or approaching a different mindset that will leave him needy and clingy for hours to come. not that you mind — taking care of him afterward is almost as good as taking care of him during, and you’d rather die than be a bad dom for him.

you push the dildo to the back of his mouth, hitting his throat in one easy thrust, and the tears overflow. they stream over his skin with ease, and you see his shoulders begin to cave in a bit with each passing second. his hips jut in little staggered motions that betray his intentions, but you simply let him strive for a friction that will never really come. not the way he wants at least.

he’s drooling around the cock between his lips and wetting it more and more with each thrust. you can't resist the urge to take your free hand to his chin, catching a dribble of saliva and smearing down towards his chest. you cross the planes of his flat chest with a wet path in your wake before reaching one of his budded nipples. just brushing over it with the slightest amount of pressure has him groaning out a low moan. like music to your ears, he repeats the sound when you tweak his nipple a little harder.

“you can cum, baby boy. think your pathetic cock can squirt for me?” you pull the dildo from his mouth to let him speak, obviously waiting for an answer with the way you dangle the fake cock just out of his reach. his voice comes out gravelly and low when he manages to squeak out a response.

“good whores can.”

“is that what you are, my love?”

“please,” he whispers, an edge of desperation to his tone, and you can’t deny him what he wants.

“yes, my baby, you’re a good whore for me. all mine.” you nudge the dildo back to his waiting mouth, putting more pressure into your push this time around. mingi takes it almost greedily like it can’t get in his throat fast enough, and he all but leans into it seconds later. you squat down to his level, at last, keeping one arm up to thrust the silicone between his plump lips that have long since swollen up from the overuse. you don’t have your key on hand — it’s over on the bed along with your other supplies — but you won’t be needing it quite yet, reaching down to grip the little bit of his shaft that isn’t trapped within the metal cage.

mingi gags around the dildo once more, but this time you aren’t nearly as deep in his throat, so you withdraw the toy to let him choke out a few words.

“c-can you finger me? please?”

your mind goes blank for half a second, hand reaching up to sweep away some of the leftover tears on his cheeks before you recover and remember your place in the scene.

“mm, keep sucking.” you push the dildo down to the floor then go to pull mingi’s hands out from under his thighs. the freedom has him flexing his probably numb fingers as best he can, but he doesn’t waste any time in sitting up on his knees and bending in half to reach the fake cock once more. you get to your feet, eyes taking in the pretty expanse of his back and ass, the red marks on his hamstrings that indicate how much pressure he was putting on his hands. even as you retrieve the lube from the bed, mingi doesn’t budge and continues to follow your gentle orders without complaint.

you announce your arrival behind him with a sharp backhand slap to one side of his ass, delighting in the way he jolts and clenches around nothing. his noises are muffled by the dildo, but still music to your ears as always. his cock dangles uselessly between his legs, and the metal encasing jingles with his sporadic movements.

your first finger is cold when it slips into the heat of mingi’s ass, no effort put into trying to warm up the lube when you know how much mingi enjoys that first chill a little more every time. your fingers aren’t nearly as long as mingi’s so the effort that goes into searching for his sweet spot is far greater than it would be the other way around. he seems to content to wait, dick still dribbling strings of translucent cum like he never stopped cumming in the first place. you know by now he’s surely bordering the brink of overstimulation, the limit where it starts to become too much, but he keeps whining each time you threaten to pull your fingers out of him.

“one more, baby boy, then we’ll be done for the night and get you cleaned up,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him at this point because of how far gone he is. it’s endearing in a way, at least in your eyes it is, and it turns intoxicating once more with the first brush of your fingers over his prostate.

“hngh, o-oh… y/n, ah, i’ll cum early!” his mouth pops off the dildo to spew the words, and spit pools on the wood floor with his motions.

“the sooner you finish, the sooner we can get you in the bath, love.” you dig your fingers as deep as they can go, crooking them midway to repeat the same brush over his sweet spot. it garners you the reaction you were after — mingi cries out louder than he has so far in this session, legs going weak as he threatens to topple over. you grab for his hip with your free hand and try your best to steady his big body before he fully falls. all his cock can do at this point is give a few more weak spurts of the same translucent cum that pools on the floor between his legs. “good job, baby, look at you. you did so well for me.”

“y/n, i-i, fuck, i—”

“shh, baby, you’re okay, i’ve got you, okay?” you turn him to the side as gently as you can, trying to avoid any of the bodily fluids that are now spread over the wood, and help him lay flat against the floor on his back. you won’t make him stay there long, only enough for him to catch his breath and get some feeling back in his legs. you’ll get the key to his cage later too; you can’t risk leaving him right as he’s coming down from an orgasm even if it’s just a few feet away. so you drag yourself up his lanky body and settle over his waist with hands planted on his shoulders and a smile on your lips. “you with me still?”

“y-yeah,” he pants, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that there are wrinkles around his temples. you shift your hands up to brush over those spots, and the man under you relaxes into the touch.

it’s a slow process, bringing him down from the intensity of the orgasm and overstimulation, but it’s comfortable as well if you ignore the sweat sticking to your bodies.

“mm, okay, ‘m back, i’m back. fuckin’ drowsy as hell,” he murmurs some time later. the way his words slur is indication enough of his exhaustion, but you aren’t about to let him pass out on the floor like this.

“okay, big boy, up we go then. let’s take a bath and let me get everything cleaned up then you can pass out.” you move to climb off mingi and get to work, but he catches hold of your waist and tugs you back down to his face momentarily.

“love you, baby.”

you smile into his lips, pressing a chaste kiss there.

“i love you too.”

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jerzwriter · 2 years

Text

MC Monday - Valentine's Day - Tobias & Casey Edition

UPDATED: I created this for @jamespotterthefirst 's MC Monday last year. I wanted to change this year's Valentine's Day, so I made some tweaks. I'll do the same with Ethan & Kaycee (since Kaycee didn't exist last year. lol)

More about their first five Valentine's Days below

Casey's Intern Year - the last Val Day before they met.

(2020) Casey was still trying to get over Ethan. Valentine's Day was only a month after he pulled back after kissing her at the conference in Miami. Casey was fine earlier in the day, spreading cheer among the patients, and staff, but after an encounter with Ethan, she was feeling a little down. So she ended up at Donahue's with her best friend Sienna (who was stood up by her boyfriend...again) and her single friends. They had way too much to drink, and when a game of spin the bottle was started, Bryce got Casey. The two good friends, and former "friends with benefits" found themselves making out in a corner until Sienna came to retrieve Casey. Momma Dolphin knew both of her friends had a little too much and would regret things going further in the morning.

Tobias's last pre-Casey Valentine's Day:

(2020) This was still old Tobias, and the man was all about the game. lol The irony is that he is romantic, but he wasn't in anything for love. From the time he was a young man he saw Valentine's Day as the perfect occasion to earn the attention of someone he had been scoping out, or to earn greater favors from someone he already had. He wasn't quite as callous now as he was when he was younger. Still, he laid it on thick on Valentine's Day with the intention of a night to remember to follow. While his plans didn't exactly go as planned, he still got his end results. (Fic: A Mixed-Up Valentine)

Their first "Kind of first Valentine's Day"

(2021) What a difference a year makes! In the past year, he met and fell for Casey. Then he screwed things up and then lost her, seemingly for good. Then, he nearly lost her for good in another way after the chemical attack . Distraught, he frantically helped come up with the treatment that saved her. After, she forgave him and was willing to be friends, but no more. Though he now knew he was in love with her, he was happy to have her in his life in any way. She was coping with PTSD and survivors guilt after that attack, and wasn't herself at all. During this time, Tobias did all he could to help her, without expecting anything in return, and a special bond developed between them. He won over Casey, and those who loved her during this time, but they were still just friends.

By the time Valentine's Day came around, he was full-on, head-over-heels in love with her. She was also in love with him, but she refused to admit it, even to herself. She had just returned to work and had been pushing him away a bit because thought she had been a burden to him. Yet, she couldn't keep away. On Valentine's Day, they spent a magical day together, but in the end, there was just a quick hug. Even so, their photos on Instagram had friends and family across the eastern seaboard burning up the group chats. The next morning... both of them were confused. He wanted to be hopeful but didn't want to set himself up for heartbreak more than he already had. Casey? She was just terrified, but it was getting harder & harder to deny. (Fic: Kind of our First Valentine's Day.) (Oh, this is also the year Tobias broke his Valentine's Day Streak - the poor man was celibate on the day for the first time since he was 17. lol)

Their first Valentine's Day together... but apart....

(2022) As fate would have it, he was away on business on their first Valentine's Day as a couple. He was returning to Boston on 2/16, but they were still disappointed. They decided to make the best of it. They would ignore the 14th altogether and celebrate as soon as he returned.

But, on the 14th their text became more and more proactive (Text Fic: When the Doctor is Away) leading to a Facetime session for the ages. They could not keep their hands off of one another, even when they were apart. 😏

When he returned home, two days later, you would have thought they were apart for months. Casey asked him not to go overboard, but he showed up with more roses than she had ever seen gathered in one place. When they got back to his townhome, their private reunion was just 🔥. They barely slept at all, and spend most of the next day sleeping in each other's arms.

Baby on the way...

(2023) Tobias had hoped to whisk Casey away for a vacation this year, but... life had other plans. Casey had just entered her third trimester of pregnancy with their first child on the holiday this year. As such, they decided to keep it low-key. Tobias cooked dinner and they had homemade cupcakes and sparkling cider for dessert.

They got each other lots of cards (see here). But they said they'd skip gifts. While they cut back on what they'd normally get, they still got gifts. Tobias bought red roses and a box of chocolate for Casey, and a little bear holding a heart that said "love" for their baby-to-be. Casey gave Tobias a chocolate heart, and a teddy bear with a shirt that said, "I'm Horny." lol See, like it or not, they hadn't been as "active" while she was pregnant. After he stopped laughing, he promised her they'd work on changing that after dinner, and they did! (A Fic for this one is forthcoming. )

Next year...

Come on now, you can't go at it like they do and not expect this to happen. 😏💕 The Drs. Carrick got to spend their first Valentine's Day with their baby girl, Samantha. It was a whole new kind of love, for their baby, and for each other.

The little family spent the day dressed in matching pajamas. Tobias made Casey her favorite French Toast for breakfast, and she baked cupcakes, an old family tradition of hers that she had always looked forward to starting with her own family. It was an unseasonably warm day for Boston, so they spent some time playing in their little yard.

At the end of the day, Tobias & Casey crashed into bed, full of joy, happiness, and love for each other. They were so tired they said no "action" that night... just cuddles. They had a babysitter lined up on Saturday, and they planned on going all out. But when they slipped under the covers, one kiss led to another, and 10 minutes later, they were naked and saying it'll be a preview for Saturday. They tuckered each other out and got plenty of sleep afterward. Little Sam was kind enough to sleep through the night for them. 😏

If you want to look a little further into the future, here is a fic about a future Valentine's Day with their three daughters. Sweet Chaos.

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @anonymousrookie @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @darkswagamerpiratecowboyclown @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @genevievemd @icecoffee90 @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @mm2305 @parisa-kh @peonierose @phoenixrising308 @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rosebudde @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @sillydg @spookycolorpeanut @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @trappedinfanfiction @writer-ish @youlookappropriate @zahrachoices

#mc monday #casey mactavish #tobias x casey #love

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echoeternally · 3 years

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Hi there! I have a bit of a strange request for you, if that's okay. I'm currently in the process of planning/writing a longer Star Fox fic that prominently features Panther, and by extension, the FoxPanth ship, and I was wondering if you could give any pointers on writing Panther and/or him and Fox together?

This isn't strange at all! I'm even delighted, like, someone asking me about a pairing that I originally thought almost no one else would enjoy, and so they can write it too? It's like a dream, my gosh!

Give me one more second, like, I'm so amazed that this happened with my rare pair for Fox/Panther. FOXPAN! Of all pairs, I'm thrilled!

Ok, ok! Let's see what advice I can scrounge up for you.

A lot of people are under the impression that Panther is a pretty clear cut character in one regard or the other, but he actually offers a lot of flexibility to write about. That's probably why I gravitate to using him so often for Star Fox content.

Writing him playing off of Fox has a surprisingly enjoyable kind of chemistry, but it depends on what you go for with them. Coming to me means that you're in for the shipping, so, that I can help with!

Kind of prefacing that a bit because I know this is going under a cut, which I'm adding in here. More below, of course! Also, it's going to be a lot longer than you're expecting, so...I'm hoping that helps!

...

~Panther's Background~

Ok, I'll start with Panther as a character, since understanding how you want to portray him is the first part to nail down right.

People kind of mistake Panther to be a flat villain and a basically a pervy flirt, nothing more needed to build his character. It's easy to write him off as such, given how little canon support the games give.

There are some very, very crucial elements that he's given with his appearances, however, and they tend to be overlooked.

First and foremost, a lot of folks like to lump Panther in as "just another Star Wolf crony," which is fair if you don't focus on him.

However! What's critical that too many people ignore is that, in Panther's debut appearance, that's a brand new Star Wolf too. With the story for Star Fox: Assault being what it was, Panther is part of the Star Wolf team that no longer operates as mere mercenaries for the main villain and the obvious rival team, but he's part of a team that becomes allies to Fox and friends by the endgame.

Anyone can take that any way they want, but Panther is basically part of the lightest and kindest, perhaps even the most fleshed out version of Star Wolf. So, people that gleefully like pairing Fox off with Wolf because he has those "hey pup" lines? They should very well like the roster from Assault, because that's the installment that gave the most credibility to Wolf even being capable of defecting.

There's a lot of ways that it could be explained, but notably, Panther is the new big member on the main roster. Sure, they could fill a seat with anyone, but look at who they chose: this lighthearted goofball that enjoys playing with his rivals as much as he does causing trouble. A far cry from the likes of Leon, Pigma, and Andrew, who were on the more ruthless side of Star Wolf.

Many like Panther to be along that side too, and depending on how you want to characterize him, that could work out.

My personal preference, however, is that Panther is part of the catalysts that helps Wolf defect from being fully evil.

He's less interested in hurting civilians and being some kind of hotshot assassin. There's no hard support that Panther's criminal record involves heavy war crimes and murder, and canon biographies about him state him to be an elusive criminal that troubled Cornerian army officials.

Rather, Panther is entertained by causing mischief and enjoys playing around. He's cunning, but in ways to further his goals and those of his allies, not to play as a pawn in another's schemes.

I like to create the background that Wolf and Leon got low and desperate when searching for new recruits, and after meeting up with Panther, they adopt similar traits from him, easing up on their rougher traits in favor of getting their work done.

Basically, I favor the idea that Panther helped make Wolf better. (Which is totally a fun basis for Wolf/Panther, something that I've wanted to write for a few years too, lol.)

~Characterizing Panther~

It really depends on what you're doing with writing him, because you can make him a criminal even still and have that work nicely. However, I tend to give him ways out of being locked into a shadier background, focusing on his lighter traits, and making him more of a "gentleman thief" type of character foremost.

(For reference, I made him that kind of a thief in my fanfic, "Your Thieving Heart," because I really enjoy the idea that Panther's a cat burglar, as opposed to...well, whatever other people prefer.)

If you're focusing on an action or adventure story, I'd recommend using his craftier traits to help him stand out. Panther likes to play head games, because he'll tease and taunt his opponents, baffling them silly until they're clueless to his true motives.

He's also a skillful shot; in Star Fox: Command, Panther is the only playable character that does not use a Lock system for his Wolfen, which means that he makes a single shot that pierces most opponents. And in Assault, he makes a good support to both Star Wolf, and later on, Star Fox, so he can coordinate well in dogfights and combat too.

A story that's geared less to fighting, such as a drama or a comedy, would focus more on Panther's playful traits. Obviously his flirting, which I'll get to in a moment, but also, tweak the way that his playful and cunning manifests.

His teasing can be used to hide other facets of his character (maybe he's actually hurting and lonely deep down) or otherwise his goals (maybe he wants to get flowers for a partner and jokes about missing a meeting to do so).

His smarts can be used to show a more analytic or thoughtful side to him; while Panther isn't the type that would be the smartest in the room, he's absolutely underestimated by everyone, and can get away with a lot of surprises as a result.

Character flaws are pretty simple. Panther can be arrogant, so he can go a little too far touting his prowess and skill, as well as take his joking a little overboard without realizing when to back down. Since he is a criminal, he definitely has a less than luster past, which can hold him back, depending on how you want to write his criminal history. Also, I tend to think of him as a type that comes across charismatic and social, but in reality wants something quieter.

That last bit has support from a profile description in Command, which states that while Panther proclaims himself to be a "ladies' cat," he actually is known to fall "totally and completely in love" with his partner.

So, where people tend to limit him to being confident and flirty, that's the short and simple version to Panther. The deeper way to flesh his character out is to make him a hopeless romantic type, who craves and wants to find someone special to help fulfill his life.

Because a large portion of Panther's character gets limited to flirting with Krystal in his two major appearances, he's not given time to really show off the depths of his feelings. (I think Command tried, but that story got botched in a few too many places.)

He's not a misogynistic type, if I remember correctly, because he doesn't make any crude comments to berate or belittle Krystal's character, but rather, makes strong efforts to prime up his character instead, doing his best to come across as enticing and viable to her as possible.

Panther is super desperate and longing for love, and he's not above trying whatever methods he can to get there.

~Shipping With...Fox!~

So, how does Fox come into play on that? It's pretty easy, since Fox is also a flexible character as virtue of being the main player controlled character for the franchise. In other words, you can project a lot onto Fox in manners however you might like.

There are specific traits to Fox that remain part of his core character, however. He's obviously a strong leader, leading the legendary Star Fox team. If we go by Star Fox 64's ending, he's pretty humble, given that he turns down joining military ranks (presumably greater glory) to keep his life in a freer style with his contract work. (This gets played up as the series goes along, though Fox was actually pretty cocky in Star Fox 64, and somewhat so in Star Fox: Adventures as well.)

Given how his personality matures by the time of Star Fox: Assault and whatever went on with Star Fox: Command, Fox is something of a type that does abide by rules and doing the greater good type of work, but still retains some of his "off the books" or "go it alone" type of work.

So, since he's a hero that dances close to more lawful work, though still manages to find ways to slide around for what his objectives desire, that does make him a mostly "no nonsense" type, though on the friendlier and nicer side, of course. Fox can be portrayed as pretty orderly, in other words, and doesn't favor causing more trouble than he can handle, even if he's not above it.

Does that sound like something of an inverse to Panther, who tends to get into trouble and be mischievous? I should hope so!

Because they have foiled personalities from one another, that gives Fox and Panther elements of "opposites attract," since Panther can be silly and troublesome, while Fox tries to be serious and respectful. Panther has a shadier history with the Cornerian Army and his past is riddled with mystery and lack of depth. Fox, meanwhile, has staunchly strong and heroic ties with the Cornerian Army, who rely and count on his efforts to help them out. Additionally, he has a fair amount of his background explored as well, especially so compared to the enigma that is Panther.

Going by how flustered Fox gets in Star Fox: Adventures, Assault, and Command, he's also a bit sloppier in the romance department. He's seen as a stammering type, and shier around those that show interest in him, namely how Krystal does in the former two installments. He ends up being too protective of her in the last game included for that group, and kicks her from the team thinking that it was the safer option, when it really did nothing to stop her.

Those that ship Fox with Falco can also write him in angles to being oblivious to love, since Falco tends to be a bit harsh with Fox, which many like to write as him being guarded with his true feelings. So, combined with the information above, Fox is something of a romantic novice or rather inept at it.

Panther, whether he's actually good at romance or just likes to think he is, still comes across as an opposite to Fox on that level too. Whereas Fox falters and hesitates in romantic matters, Panther boldly strides forward to do his best in a quest for love.

There are some tricks to helping Fox and Panther work even better than just playing off of their foil traits however.

For starters: Both can be portrayed as very lonely souls.

Fox is a character that lost his parents at a young age, with his mother being out of the picture in every game installment, and his father dead before he's even 18. That's rough stuff, at least in my book. So, I'd consider that Fox has some isolated sides to his character that not everyone knows about, and that he has a side that grieves for his loved ones, and a side that longs to find a way to be loved and cherished in some manner once more.

Huh, does that sound familiar again? Someone that desperately wants to find love to fill a void in his life?

Oh wait, that's literally part of Panther's core too!

See, both Fox and Panther are seekers of love. While Fox may not be as forward with his intentions, he cares deeply for his team, his allies, and his planet, if not the entire Lylat galaxy. While Panther may not have such grand showings for compassion, he'd be the type that would be impressed, if not charmed, by someone so compassionate and caring.

If you take the idea that Panther helped make Wolf and Leon better, then it's likely that he also has a good deal of compassion in him too, seeing the best in people that the rest of Corneria and Lylat write off as the worst out there. Finding the light in the darkness is a kind of hopeful trait that Fox would absolutely be drawn to, since he can struggle to do the same.

Of course, both Panther and Fox are also skilled pilots, so, they have at least that much in common. Fox's skills are something that have outright impressed Panther in canon, and he compliments Fox a few times in both Star Fox: Assault and Star Fox: Command, commending Fox as his personal rival. It's not hard at all to shift that from mere respect to a deeper admiration.

Both are also very loyal and willing to see their goals through to the end. Fox proves this repeatedly in the games, but Panther shows such qualities in his appearances too, sticking by Wolf's side in spite of the challenges they face, and committing to his goals until they either are toppled enough to stop him, or until they are fully realized in a capacity that satisfies Panther well enough.

Typically, I like to mix things between "opposites attract" and "like attracts likes," to balance them out. Both Fox and Panther want to not be lonely and fall in love, to share their lives with someone. They're both also types that would be lonely in a crowd, though none are likely to suspect so, since they both come across confident and social enough to prove otherwise. Fox may find Panther's slippery side somewhat alluring, since he follows a freedom that Fox may sometimes wish he had from his more uptight and legacied life. Panther, meanwhile, might find Fox's loyalty and noble traits very endearing, because that means he'd firmly stand beside anyone that he committed himself to, something that Panther absolutely wants.

Naturally, you can play around with how you might like to portray them, based on the choices you'd make with your story, but those are some elements that I noticed and liked to help build it up.

While a lot of it is fairly made up with loose ties to canon, that's kind of the point to many fanfics. And even still, there is enough canon support to characterize Panther and Fox in a way that could make them a harmonized duo, to the point of romantic involvement.

Phew! Even I didn't realize how much I'd have to write about them until I actually put it all down, lol.

I do hope that you find this helpful. If you want any more information with building the pairing up for writing, please let me know! I'd love to increase the support that FoxPan gets out there, haha!

Thank you for asking too! This was a lot of fun to write out.

#panther caroso #star fox #fox mccloud #foxpan #shipping #askecho #igniswrites #how to ship foxpan #nice #another for a shipping series lmao

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morkleemelon · 3 years

Text

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head.

“Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching.

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner.

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it.

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged.

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself.

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features.

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither.

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person.

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”.

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway.

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals.

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower.

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear.

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all.

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully.

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do.

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror.

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly.

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection.

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed.

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones.

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people.

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…”

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down.

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused.

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this.

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure.

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side.

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake.

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”.

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it.

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile.

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry.

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”.

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest.

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe.

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips.

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago.

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone.

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that?

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation.

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply.

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”.

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada.

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about.

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit.

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings.

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you.

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff.

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

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