#if you build things well it’s not too bad

[woozinhos]

when you and vernon ( both as idols) get caught dating and he gets so mad that fans don’t approve your relationship

kind of angry sex?

I tried to make this one a bit longer let me know what you guys think I gave it a little bit of a plot as well :D

It was a secret that you and Vernon had been keeping for a while - your relationship with him. But the secret had been discovered, and the news had spread like wildfire.

As you walked through the halls of the company building, you could feel the stares of other idols and staff members on you. Whispers and murmurs followed you wherever you went, and it was clear that people were not happy about your relationship with Vernon.

Vernon, however, was furious.

He had always been protective of you, but now he was on edge. The constant attention and criticism from fans and media had taken a toll on him, and he was struggling to keep his anger in check.

When you finally made it back to his apartment, Vernon was waiting for you. He looked tense and on edge, his jaw clenched tightly as he paced back and forth in the living room.

"You're finally here," he said as soon as you walked through the door. "I was worried sick."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he was afraid you might disappear.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked, his voice tight. "I've been trying to reach you all day."

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, feeling guilty for making him worry. "I just needed some space to think."

Vernon held you tighter, his body still tense with frustration.

"You can't just disappear like that," he said, his voice strained. "Not after what happened today."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching your face.

"Do you have any idea what people are saying about us?" he asked, his voice low and angry. "They're tearing us apart, tearing you apart."

Vernon's grip on you tightened as he spoke, his fingers digging into your skin.

"They're saying all kinds of things about you, about our relationship," he said, his eyes flashing with anger. "That you're not good enough for me, that you're only after my fame and money."

You met his gaze, your own expression determined.

"But I'm an idol too, Vernon," you said firmly. "I've worked just as hard as you have, and I'm just as talented. I deserve to be with you, just like you deserve to be with me."

Vernon's expression darkened as you spoke, his anger flaring up even more.

"That's not the point," he said through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter that you're an idol too. The fans still don't approve of our relationship, and they're not going to stop until they tear us apart."

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair.

"I hate this," he said, his voice rough. "I hate that we have to hide our relationship, that we can't just be together in public without people judging us."

He started to pace again, his footsteps heavy and agitated.

"I just want to be able to hold your hand in public, to kiss you in front of everyone without worrying about what they'll say," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Is that too much to ask for?"

You watched as he continued to pace, his anger palpable in the air.

"I'm tired of hiding," he said, his voice low and strained. "I'm tired of pretending that we're just friends, that there's nothing between us."

He suddenly stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"I want you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want you so bad, and I don't care who knows it."

He took a step towards you, his eyes raking over your body.

"I need you," he said, his voice thick with need. "Right now, I need you so badly it's driving me crazy."

Vernon's lips crashed against yours, his kiss rough and demanding.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss. He backed you up against the wall, his body pinning you in place as he devoured your mouth.

His hands roamed over your body, his touch possessive and desperate. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you.

"You're mine," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "No one else's. Understand?"

He claimed your mouth again, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as he pressed his body against yours. His hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he lifted you up and pinned you against the wall.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he continued to kiss you senseless. He moved his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he started to grind his hips against yours.

You moaned at the sensation, your head falling back against the wall as Vernon continued to mark your neck. He let out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he felt your body respond to his touch.

Vernon quickly moved to the couch, sitting down with you still in his lap. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust as he ran his hands up and down your thighs.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "And all mine."

He pulled you closer, his hands sliding under your shirt to feel your skin.

"I want to mark you all over," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want everyone to know that you belong to me."

He leaned back, a smirk on his face as he looked up at you.

"I want to make sure that when you go out in public tomorrow, everyone sees the marks I've left on you," he said, his voice low and possessive. "I want them to know that you're mine, and that no one else can touch you."

The room was filled with the sound of tearing fabric as Vernon's hands tore at your clothes, his desire taking over completely.

He growled as he exposed more and more of your skin, his lips and teeth trailing hot kisses across your body. Once you were completely naked, he took a moment to admire your body, his eyes roaming over every inch of you.

"God, you're perfect," he breathed, his hands tracing over your curves.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with raw need.

"I want you to ride me," he said, his voice hoarse. "I want to feel you, I want to see you take control and use me to make yourself feel good."

He moved his hands to your hips, his grip firm as he guided you onto his lap.

"Go ahead," he said, his voice strained with anticipation. "Take what you want, baby."

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as you felt him fill you completely. Vernon's eyes rolled back in his head, a low groan escaping his throat as he felt your walls clench around him.

You began to move, riding him slowly at first before picking up the pace. Vernon's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he watched you take control.

"That's it," he said through gritted teeth. "Ride me hard, baby. Show me how angry you are."

You increased your pace, your hips moving frantically as you rode him.

Vernon's hands moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly as he helped guide your movements. He was watching you intently, his eyes dark with lust and desire as he took in the sight of you above him.

Suddenly, Vernon couldn't take it anymore.

He started to thrust upwards, meeting your movements with his own and increasing the intensity of the pleasure. He let out a growl, his hands on your hips pulling you down harder onto him with each thrust.

Your moans filled the room as you arched your back, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Vernon's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every curve and dip as he continued to thrust up into you.

"You feel so good," he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening even more. "So tight and wet for me."

He pulled you down so that your chest was pressed against his, his arms wrapping around you and holding you close. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to pound into you.

"I'm never letting you go," he whispered in your ear. "You're mine, forever."

His lips found yours again, kissing you hungrily as you continued to move together. The kiss was messy and desperate, filled with a mixture of desire and possessiveness.

Vernon's hands roamed over your body, touching every inch of you as he held you tightly against him. The pleasure built higher and higher, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body.

You could feel yourself getting close, your body tensing as you neared the edge. Vernon sensed it too, his movements becoming more frantic as he chased his own release.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you fall apart around me."

You were so close, your body teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Vernon's words sent you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you came undone in his arms. Your body trembled and convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you, your inner walls clenching around Vernon's cock.

He held you tightly, his own orgasm triggered by the feeling of you coming undone around him. He let out a guttural moan, burying his face in your neck as he spilled himself inside you.

The two of you stayed locked together for a moment, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath of your release. Vernon held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he placed soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.

"You're amazing," he murmured, his voice still rough with pleasure. "So perfect."

He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a serious expression.

"I don't care what anyone says," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "I don't care what people think about us, about you. I don't want to leave you, ever."

He reached up to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm.

"You're the most important thing in my life," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I would do anything for you, I would give up everything just to stay by your side."

[star-hoon]

number one girl

"I'd give it all up if you told me that I'll be, the number one girl in your eyes"

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[WORK IN PROGRESS!]

PAIRING. sunghoon x fem reader (best friends-to-lovers! au)

WARNINGS. profanity, (will be updated once complete)

WORD COUNT. (will be updated once complete)

SUMMARY. you always admired your best friend sunghoon. but when did that admiration turn into something...more?

DISC. this story is entirely fiction & does not reflect any real events of the idols mentioned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. omfg this was so cheesy

pls give me feedback, i'd love to improve my writing so any and all critique is welcomed <3

you can still remember the first day you met sunghoon.

it was the first week of the semester at university and in physics class you were partnered up with jake, the handsome austrailian student (much to the other girls' dismay). although you of course could admit jake was very charming and handsome, you saw him as a lot more than that. he was smart and always patient to give you some extra tutoring when you didn't quite understand what was taught in lecture, genuinely kind, and it was so entertaining to see him never pass up a chance to show you a new picture of his dog layla.

jake invited you to his birthday party at an arcade that also had things like escape rooms and an ice skating rink. you've never met any of jake's friends before so you really didn't know what to expect but after some drinks and games in the arcade, it wasn't too hard to ease your initial nerves around the group of strangers.

"you HAVE to see sunghoon ice skate, i swear he's more coordinated on ice than walking on the ground..." wonyoung says to you as the group walks to the ice skating rink. she was one of the girls there that you got along with really well and she was super friendly right off the bat.

"really? huh... sorry i'm really bad with names, who's sunghoon again?" you nervously laugh to her.

she points to the dark haired boy laughing with heeseung as you all get in line to get you ice skates.

"he used to compete in international ice skating competitions...almost working towards olympic level. but he decided to drop competing to focus on his studies. don't let him try to convince you he just 'skates for fun'... you'll see what i mean," she had a lingering fondness in her eyes.

you couldn't help but to wonder what wonyoung meant but you got your skates and laced them on the benches lining the rink of ice.

"before we all get in the rink, i think it's only fair sunghoon gives a little show before we all totally eat shit on this ice" jake announces to the group, everyone laughing along with him.

your gaze falls on sunghoon, noticing the faint blush on his cheeks with all the attention now on him. you see his faint smile and waving his hands, declining jake.

"oh cmon sunghoon! please! some people here haven't seen you on the ice and you've been telling me you've been dying to skate again..." sunghoon finally gave in.

"fine fine, only because it's your birthday," sunghoon jokingly rolled his eyes. everyone cheered as you all gathered along the wall of the rink. the minute sunghoon started gliding along the ice, it was like a switch flipped. you felt like the person you were watching wasn't that shy boy you briefly met a few hours ago. his aura radiated a confidence but also a sense of comfort. you could feel his emotion with every turn and twirl. you could see his visible passion and love of skating. he was smiling so wide, his fangs poked out and you couldn't help but to smile as well. it was the kind of smile you wanted to stare at forever.

he was freestyling to whatever music that was playing over the speakers of the skating rink but you could tell he didn't need choreography to shine brighter than any of the white fluorescent lights in the building. you understood what wonyoung meant, he truly looked more comfortable on ice than on the ground—and you grew more and more curious about sunghoon.

when he concluded his impromptu performance, you all applauded and jake along with the other boys entered the rink cheering sunghoon on, hugging him and ruffling his hair. you entered the rink, you heart hammering out of your chest in nervousness and anxiousness. you've never ice skated before and you already knew you would make a total fool of yourself in front of everyone.

"wonyoung, i've never ice skated before...can i hang on to you?" she chuckled at your nervousness, finding you adorable.

"of course, here hang on to my arm until you get the hang of it. we can stay near the wall" the few circles you did around the rink was less you hanging on to wonyoung and more you having a death grip on the ledge of the wall—stopping every 2 feet feeling beyond imbalanced. you let go of wonyoung making a full stop.

"i'm gonna rest for a little bit, you can go hang out with the others" you stated trying to cover your labored breath.

"are you sure?" she questioned. "yeah! go for it! i'm just gonna take a breather, i'll join you in a sec" you reassured her. she gave you her signature sweet smile and skated towards the rest of the group.

after a few moments of watching the rest of the group from afar, you attempted to skate towards the center of the ice to join the rest of the group. without knowing still how to maintain your balance and the wall no longer within arms reach, you knees completely buckle under your weight. you were pretty much bracing for impact to have your hands and knees to collide with the harsh coldness of ice at your feet. before you could even fully comprehend it, you felt a pair of arms catching you, slightly easing your fall.

"woah that was a close one. are you okay?" it was sunghoon. his face was close to yours, close enough for gaze to fall on the concerned look in his dark orbs and the mole on his cheek and nose.

"y-yeah i'm fine! t-thanks for saving me, i totally ate shit." you joked, a cold sweat running down your spine in utter embarrassment.

"no worries, thankfully i got to you in time. and don't even worry about it, being on ice takes a ton of practice." his arm still holding onto yours helping you get up. he guides you both back to the wall.

"you're really good at ice skating by the way, like crazy good" he let out a soft chuckle at your compliment blushing. you knew he probably heard that a million times before.

"thank you, it's y/n right?" you nod.

"can i ask why you quit? wonyoung told me about how you used to compete but left to focus on school," the echos of the group's chatter and laugher being background noise to your conversation.

"yeah that's the main reason. i guess that's the simple explanation i give people..." his voice trailing, as if there's more to the story. you raise your eyebrows at him, hinting at him to keep explaining.

“it got pretty lonely in all honesty. competing i mean. i made friends through skating and stuff but when i trained and performed in a competition…i was alone through it all. it made me start to dislike the sport all together…” he sighed. “…and that was really hard for me. and i decided to step down from competing and just skate as a hobby now.”

he saw your solemn expression and reassured you the best way he could. “but it’s good now. truly. i think skating in a setting like this, with friends and just having fun healed my relationship with it.” you both looked out to the group, laughing in unison seeing ni-ki chase jake excitedly.

“basically the best way i can describe it being on the ice now feels like reuniting with an old friend…” sunghoon expresses, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

“wow, i had no idea. thank you for telling me. for what it’s worth, i think you’re really brave.” you caught him tilting his head with a questioning look.

“well, i mean it takes a lot of courage to give up sometimes. especially something you put so much time and energy into…i feel like so many people think it's automatically a waste or a shame to give something up. but sometimes its just a redirection and sometimes its for the better.”

“y-yeah, exactly…” sunghoon looked at you stunned. you’re the first person to openly and fully understand his story and he didn’t even need to explain it to you his reasoning.

“i think you’re the first person who actually understands.”

you hummed in delight, smiling at him. “looks like we’ll get along pretty well”

“yeah i guess so” he smiles back.

you could feel the sincerity and warmth in his smile. it was different than the ones he gave you earlier. it was a smile you wanted to see again and again.

since that day at jake’s birthday, you and sunghoon have been inseparable. he was your best friend and you trusted him more than anyone else in the world.

he was reliable, he understood you in every way, and he accepted you even at your lowest—not judging you about your past.

you and sunghoon slept over at each other’s apartments all the time, even having each other’s a spare key.

sunghoon crashed at your place that previous night, you two pulling an all-nighter studying and your apartment being closer to campus than his. you two would sleep in each other’s bed but always staying on each other’s side—simply sleeping side by side, most of the time with your backs facing one another.

he had class earlier than you—his dreaded phone alarm going off, both of you stirring awake.

you pulled the covers over your head, groaning at the awful triggering sound of the alarm as sunghoon shut it off. he laughed quietly at your misery.

“hoon, why the fuck did you sign up for an 8am calculus class. who even voluntarily does that…”

"guess i'm a masochist," he sarcastically states, stretching and letting out a yawn. he reaches over your half-awake body, still covered by the blanket still to grab his glasses off your nightstand.

he basically puts all his body weight on top of you, borderline crushing you in the process dramatically reaching towards the table, a mischievous smirk on his face fully aware of his actions.

"hoon! ughhhh you're so annoying, you're crushing me" your voice muffled under the sheet. he laughs, amused by teasing you especially early in the morning when you're the grumpiest.

"sorry my bad" laughter still littering his voice. when you finally feel his weight off your body, you pull down the sheet from over your head.

you didn't realize sunghoon was still hovering over you, his arms on either side of your upper body. his gaze held something different in it, something you've never seen in his eyes before.

was there something in the air? were you starting to fall ill?

you and sunghoon joked around all the time and were in close proximity of each other all the time. maybe seeing each other at embarrassing moments one too many times, but this felt different.

the blue tint of the morning light peeking through your curtains illuminated his figure above you. the white tank top he always wore to sleep emphasized the contours of his defined arms, the thin silver chain adorning his collarbones reflected specs of light. and his messy hair and glasses wasn't helping your suddenly and unconsciously racing heart.

he was close. like really close. maybe too close for two people that were just friends. the air around you two felt thick and it was like you were holding your breath, maybe you were.

sunghoon slowly raised his hand, using his finger to brush a stray hair away from your face. and you swear his gaze wandered from your wide eyes to your lips. his touch lingered down to trace your jaw slightly.

he suddenly pulls away from your body, rising from the bed. he grabs his hoodie draped over your desk chair pulling it over his head and walking towards the bathroom—as if nothing had happened.

— should i continue writing?

taglist (open!): 

@laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains @luv-jungwon106 @woniebae

@gudkc @enha-stars @dimplewonie

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, comments & shares are always appreciated!!

[srslylini]

The thing about Act 1 of season 2 is that, while in context with the rest of s2 it was bad, they actually did set up a good story and continued season 1 pretty amazingly.

There were still some problems but genuinely most of those problems stem from the rest of the Episodes not delivering and not on the first 3 setting stuff up.

Act 1 giving us the tree being sick? Really good idea, perfect set up even the connection between the hextech and it being sick? Nice as fuck. It's what they did with it (nothing) and how it didn't matter (at all) that destroys Act 1.

Caitlyn's set up was absolutely not bad, and a lot of people were praising it. It made sense for her character and it also didn't seem like they thought she was right. Not with all the other episodes after Act 1, though. Contrary to populer believe I like morally not so good (evil) characters if they make sense. Caitlyns narrative was promising to be interesting they just didn't do anything with it and acted like what she did in Act 1 was fine and excusable and alright. It wasn't. Had they actually done something with what they set up with her, well I wouldn't be standing here now.

They also promised this season being a Vi focused season and while I would say that Act 1 did actually give us a lot of Vi, in context with the other Acts... no. In hindsight there was no need to make her an Enforcer. "But the lore-" I'm gonna stop you right there, they also completely changed Viktors lore, and even Jinx' lore. So?

CaitVi was also something that, in Act 1, I was way more ready to get behind. I was a CaitVi shipper in season 1, I did like their dynamic and wanted it explored. I liked their kiss. I did not like what they did after that. Not Caitlyn hitting Vi and then getting to hit her again and never apologizing. I am a lesbian and here I am telling you: Everything that happened with them was weird.

Act 1 also gave us this genuine good found family between Isha, Sevika and Jinx. It was so moving and well done even in such short of a time (there is still stuff to criticize about it but the consensus is that it is awesome so yk I can overlook certain stuff). And then they turned around and wrote Sevika completely out of the story and killed the plot device that was Isha. When Isha should have mattered.

I didn't even originally dislike how many new characters they introduced because season 1 once mastered characters like this. Maddie seemed promising, until she wasn't. Loris seemed interesting and well thought out until he wasn't. Lest was such a good addition until she was just written out of the show completely. Don't even get me started on Steb.

Ambessas ploy in Act 1 was also something that I genuinely liked. Even Mel figuring out a mystery was good. Until they decided "well that doesn't matter anymore".

In Act 1 I did actually like the subtleties. I liked how Caitlyn saw the Violets and how, in episode 3 of s2 she saw one through her rifles lense (I have no idea what that is called, sue me haha) floating over Jinx. Because it was a nice add on and nothing that would destroy your viewing experience if not noticed, and it wasn't on the nose.

While a lot of directions they took, I was already questioning (the Smeech stuff took up way too much time) I was ready to give that a pass because it didn't destroy anything, yet.

Up until episode 4, it all seemed well enough, and while the prison scene also made me question stuff (that god damn Enforcer pants joke oh my god I will never let that go what was that) it wasn't anything too bad, yet.

The reason Act 1 doesn't work now is because of Act 2 and Act 3. Had Act 1 stood alone or had Act 2 and Act 3 delivered on Act 1, we wouldn't have that much of a problem. As it is the further Acts destroy what Act 1 seemed to carefully build up.

In the end what seemed purposefully and artistically done in Act 1 now seems like something the writers actually believe.

[amphitriteswife]

Keep quiet

Warnings: NSFW content it’s my first so its bad

Pairing: DG x fem! Reader

Summary: a pool party is too boring for you. Especially when it’s all just about DG…so why not spice it up a little?

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DG often hosts parties, they’re always limited, luxurious and lavish events. You usually complained to DG that you disliked the parties, often it was only all about it. His friends. Many influencers and models. The party was held on the top of his entertainment building, which he ofcourse owned. What doesn’t he own at this point? Once again you found yourself at the edge of the pool, bored out of your mind while DG talked to Daniel about something that ‘didn’t concern you’. What a dickhead. But to make it up to you he promised to let you have a little ‘control’ over him. Hence the reason for the remote in your hand. DG is confident and aloof. He can take a lot. Can’t he? He is THE DG after all…

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You watched DG from afar, many people were busy getting a drink at the bar. They were having fun dancing and ordering, it was all free and fun since DG was paying for it so who wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste? Because of so many people put of the way you had a clear view of DG talking to Daniel. He wore a skimpy short and some slippers, as well as a shirt that he didn’t bother to button up. You could see the serious expression om his face as if he was talking about something rather serious. which made this all so much more fun…So serious and aloof. Just typical DG….why not take things further? He didn’t even seem to be bothered by the thing in his pants. How annoying!…it wouldn’t hurt to mess with him for a little right? Your finger lightly brushing over the buttons on the remote. Decideing to go easy on him, you pressed only on level 2. Shouldn’t be so hard right? You would be proven wrong when you see DG almost spit pit his cocktail. His reaction made Daniel rather startled and worried. But DG is no weak man, he simply put up his hand as a sign that he was fine and cleared his throat. Ofcourse the murderous glare he gave you didn’t go unnoticed by the either of you.

Standing up from the edge of the pool, you made your way to the pair, introducing yourself to Daniel and sitting on the pink couch DG was sitting on, he didn’t bother to put a hand around you. Too focused on swirling his straw in the cocktail and trying his best to ignore the vibration against his prostate. You could hear his breath hitch when you gave him a playful push. ‘Watch it.’ He told you sternly. His eyes trying to focus more on his cocktail and trying to not listen to the soft ‘vrrrr’ in his pants. The discomfort of not making any sounds made him move his legs. He could feel the blood rushing to his abdomen. The slight sensation of electricity shooting trough his spine which made him shiver. The feeling of his already short swimming trunks becoming even more tight. He surpresed the feeling by giving Daniel a sweet smile, although it was clear it wasn’t genuine. Even Daniel figured as much, which made Daniel think that he said something to offend him and apologized. DG smiled ever so sweetly, yet you knew he was getting way more irritated. The slight movement of his jaw clenching, his brows ever so furrowed and the way he gulped more than usual, all signs that he wanted you to stop. But…

DG having satisfaction? That’s no fun. So you why not put the vibrator up to another level? The sudden increase in vibrations made DG bite down a grunt, he spoke in a more strained voice to Daniel who was very v unsure of what was going on. DG clenched his legs together, the sound becoming a little more clouded, but still noticeable. The sudden tent in DG’s pants also made him hitch, his hand quickly covering his crotch. He still remained smiling to Daniel softly clearing his throat, yet his mind was practically screaming and begging you to help him out. The veins in his neck were on the verge of busting, and so was he. In one desperate attempt to cover himself up from the massive print in his swimming trunks he pulled you closer to him, half off your body covering him. He nuzzled into your neck while Daniel talked to him about someone called James Lee. It made you a little curious to who that was and if he was cute. DG on the other hand was heavily breathing next to your ear.

‘You have no fucking idea what you’re doing.’ DG practically hissed to you, despite his smile, you could see the frustration in his eyes. He hates it, but you’re his girlfriend. And he owns you after being too bust the lasts weeks. Hence why he is letting you do this. He shifts you around, letting you sit on his clothed erection. Damn it why are you like this? He’s busy and you’re over here making him hard! He kept you in place by holding you by your hips. Daniel seemed very friendly and offered to get a drink for you at the bar since he was heading there anyway. Which probably wasn’t true. He could feel that DG was quite…angry with you and he didn’t want to be in the crossfire. DG watched Daniel walk to the bar with a smile, the same fake smile he always gives someone. After Daniel was out of sight his smile dropped and turned his head to look at you. ‘Care to explain?’ The question sounded more like a demand. And it wasn’t with his silky idol voice either. ‘Explain what?’ You asked him with fake laced innocence. Your voice made him furrow his brow and scoff at you. Excuse him? Who is he to scoff at you? You’re the one with the power here! You ‘hmphed’ at him and switched the vibrator to a higher level. This earned a soft unexpected moan to escape DG which he tried to cover up with coughs. His prostate pressed more against you. He groaned. His voice hoarse and panting. The sudden hug from him made you stiffen. ‘What’s up with you?’ You felt his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapping around your form, his legs bouncing you slightly in his lap. He picked up the pace and after a while stopped, panting even harder than before. ‘What are you-’ you could feel the wetness creeping on your own clothes, your eyes darting down to see the wet spot in DG’s pants.

[svartalfhild]

ooo either 12 or 20 please :3

I'm going to see if I can combine these.

12. nervous embarrassment around them (blushing, fidgeting etc) 20. clumsy attempts at flirting

Rook didn't want to admit it to a single soul, living or dead, but she was completely out of her depth when it came to romance. It had always seemed like something other people did and usually only in novels.

She'd grown up in the Grand Necropolis where romantic love was the purview of the dead or grieving, and even amidst the Mourn Watch, well, she hadn't been social enough to witness romance in action between her colleagues. She'd always been strange, even for a Mourn Watcher, as the elf crypt foundling with ghostly white hair and eyes, and thus she'd always found it easier to befriend spirits than people.

Then she'd been cast out for her own safety. And Varric had taken her in, given her new purpose, and taken her all over Thedas. Even after a year, so much of the world and the intricacies of interpersonal relationships were new to her. She was a quick learner, though, and she liked to think she was a decent actor too, capable of pretending she was normal, even if she didn't exactly look it.

Varric and Harding had helped her a lot at first. They were gentle in correcting her blunders, for which she was eternally grateful. She still winced at the memory of the etiquette teacher she'd had growing up. Of course, that class had been meant to prepare young Watchers for behaving appropriately with the bereaved and the nobility. Common folk were a bit more forgiving, she'd found, as long as you were laid back, kind, and had a sense of humor. It worked really well for Varric and Harding, and it worked really well for her too, especially once she learned to stop casually using what Varric called "gold coin words" and mentioning anything to do with death or funerary practices.

After they'd come to the Lighthouse, though, things had changed. Rook was in charge now. Varric was bedridden, and she couldn't constantly be running off to the infirmary for advice he may not even have the energy to give. Harding was available, but Rook didn't want to disturb her too much, since she had a lot going on with the whole Titan magic thing. Rook just needed to toughen up and learn to handle things herself. She was a grown woman. She should be able to figure out social dynamics on her own, especially now that she knew she could rely on her positive attitude and helpful nature to deal with difficult situations.

Romance, though. That was a different animal, one she'd never thought she'd personally encounter. But then she'd met Emmrich, and all the work she'd done to appear socially competent just sort of went directly out the window. Or perhaps more accurately, right over the balcony of his beautifully appointed tower. He was just so...so...talented and knowledgeable and handsome and caring and dapper and well-spoken and generous and patient and...well, attractive. It didn't matter that he was twice her age. Her brain slid out her nose, skipped away, and left the building whenever he so much as said a nice thing to her. For some bizarre reason she did not yet understand, her gut reaction was to try to flirt with him, even though she had no practice at it, and her understanding of flirting was entirely based on things she'd read in fiction.

That being said, she felt she wasn't too bad at it. He hadn't reacted poorly to her flirting so far. In fact, though he often seemed surprised at first, he was always receptive. That didn't necessarily mean anything, though. For a while, she'd thought maybe he was just being kind and trying not to make her feel awkward because she was failing and he wasn't interested, but he still wanted to be friends with her. But then he'd told her he was interested and flirted with her so expertly that she'd been utterly swept away by it. And then he'd kissed her in the Memorial Gardens, and she knew she was so stupidly in love that there was absolutely no going back now.

So she kept at it.

One evening after returning from an excursion to Arlathan with Neve and Bellara, Rook snuck off towards Emmrich's tower while the others headed for the courtyard. She gave the door her unique little knock, and she heard his distant voice tell her to come in. She slipped inside and didn't see him in the immediate area of the study, so she nimbly climbed the spiral stairs to find him returning some books to the shelves.

"Hello," she greeted, trying to sound soft and a little sultry.

"Ah, Rook! How was your trip?" he responded cheerfully, tossing her a smile before shelving another book. She approached him in what she hoped was a casual manner. Was it always so warm in the tower? She didn't remember it ever being this warm. Her hands were sweating.

"Oh, you know. Magical. Like Arlathan always is." She gave a little chuckle, one which she hoped came across as charming and not nervous. Not that long ago, she would have just launched into a monologue about all the exciting magical phenomena she'd encountered in the forest, but these days, she was committed to being a bit more charismatic than that. "I got you something." She reached into the back of her cinch belt and pulled out a purple flower with a bent stem to hold it out to Emmrich. Her smile faltered when she noticed the bent stem, and she swallowed the swear that wanted to burst from her lips. Emmrich fully looked over at her after quickly sliding the last book into place, and a grin instantly spread across his distinguished features.

"Oh, how lovely! Cyclamen hederifolium! Thank you, darling!" He stepped closer to her and gently took the flower from her, his fingers brushing against hers and making her heart flutter.

"Sorry it's bent. I had to tuck it in my belt and I didn't notice until just now," Rook blurted out. Shit, that was awkward. She needed to find a way to recover. "I saw them while we were walking and thought of you, so I picked one," she added, attempting a casual lean against the nearest bookcase. Sure, that worked.

"How sweet," Emmrich replied, giving the bloom a sniff, his hazel eyes never leaving her as he did so. He then straightened the bend in the stem and swiped a fingertip over it. After a brief glow of green, the damage was repaired. "There. Nothing to trouble yourself over." Wow. She wished she knew how to do that. Maybe he could teach her. Oh, but as she watched him hold the flower, she realized he may not even have somewhere to put it. It wasn't a rose. It didn't have a long stem. He probably didn't have any pots small enough.

"I'll get a cup or something for you to put it in," she offered, straightening up and curling her fingers nervously.

"Ah." Emmrich halted her with the simple sound just as she began to turn to go, and stepped much closer to her, entering her space. "Not to worry, my dear. I know the perfect place for it," he told her softly before carefully tucking the purple cyclamen into her hair.

"O-Oh," she gasped, her ghostly pale cheeks instantly flushing pink. He brushed his fingertips down the side of her face when he was done, and she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle right then and there. Without even meaning to, she leaned closer to him, basking in the adoration that filled his gaze. "But the flower was for you," she said, her voice a little distant as she stared up at him.

"And I would like to see such a beautiful gift adorn the beautiful young woman who gave it to me." She gave him a dreamy smile at this, and her blush deepened.

"If that's what pleases you."

"It does indeed." Emmrich's fingers traced the edge of her jaw before settling under her chin and tilting her head up so he could easily lean down and kiss her.

Rook's last thought before all others abandoned her was that she must being doing this romance thing right if this was the result of her efforts.

[magnecalliope]

I was talking with @clownscasino today about how service oriented Clown is as a person. At first glance it can seem like he's just arrogant and self-absorbed because he leans on his reputation so much, but consider: every time anyone praises him for his role in a team project, he gets flustered and tries to pass credit onto someone else. He did it during the funhouse arc of Lifesteal with Branzy. Every time Branzy would downplay his own contributions to the funhouse Clown would turn it back around on him ("you only built the whole thing"). Or more recently during the faction event on The Realm, when Sneeg credited him with getting all the gunpowder, Clown immediately corrected him and said it was a team effort. Like, insistently. For a guy obsessed with his reputation, he really does not like being complimented. 

His best alliances and friendships have always been with people who are undeniably weaker than him. People he can protect. From chasing Leo down and killing him for hurting Branzy to logging back onto The Realm when Bad and Pili were threatening Ros, when he has someone to protect he will do so with an almost singleminded focus. Fighting is something he's good at, and protection is a service he can provide to the people he loves. This is also why on The Realm he keeps handing out high level armor and equipment like candy. He's trying to buy his teammates' love by showing them how useful he is. He needs to be useful. His reputation is everything to him because his reputation is the service he is providing. If he doesn't have his reputation, he doesn't have a use. There is no point to a ClownPierce who doesn't have that reputation.

And that's also the reason those alliances with weaker individuals work better. People who are a near equal to him inevitably turn on him. They want to be the one to take him down. They don't need anything else from him. They don't need his protection. They just need his title. It's the only thing he has to give anyone, strong or weak, but at least the weak players don't want to steal the only thing he has when they're done with him.

Incidentally, this is why I think Clown and Ros work so well together as a pair, because Ros is service oriented too. When Clown offers her his protection, she reciprocates. She finds diamonds and other materials Clown wants and she collects them for him. She builds him a room in the castle. When Molluskus shows up, she tries to protect him the way he protects her. He shares his plan to usurp the King with her. She shares her plan to build a second castle with him. They both have something to offer the other. Her acts of service function to show him that they're equals in their partnership.

[double-u-qed]

for me personally, what strengthens my autistic prowl headcanon is that he's rather good on the principles of body language, taking stock of minute movements and understanding what it could mean. he overanalyzes and tries to predict the meaning behind it. but he doesn't have the full grasp on social matters, thus making people unpredictable because he doesn't truly understand or even just 'go with the flow' when it comes to people. he needs a script of sort to interact, and in a way, body language is that.

he can have all the data on someone he wants, preferring to think of people in numbers because numbers are safe and predictable (not as in, oh, Prowl is willing to let people die. when i say numbers here i mean it literally, as in his calculations that he can't help himself from running). the individuality of people, however.... he can't actually put his knowledge into practice when he's thinking too hard on how he should react to said body language.

im not necessarily applying this to idw1 specifically, btw (all prowls are autistic to me). because the thing about idw1 prowl, i do like seeing him in an autistic lens but he is also Just An Asshole. he can in fact be both (though there's something to be said on how certain characters are a touch unreliable in how they talk about him because they believe the worst of him (i.e., Fort Max feeling he was left for dead when Prowl was led to believe that he had died), as well as how the writers just wanted to make Prowl Always in the wrong, even though he very much had a point in saying the Autobots were hypocrites, even if Prowl is still a bad guy despite being a victim). that's a lot of words to say that i hate people looking at Prowl's worst traits and trying to justify them simply with 'he's autistic' lol. there can be a genuinely interesting conversation on how the way his processor works can be an allegory for being neurodivergent/autistic specifically, but alas.. prowl is extremely flawed, and that's okay! he can be flawed and still exist within the realm of your headcanon.

really i just mean it's a bit Interesting when that's all people go with. you can say it's a mix of both, and that's still better than painting a rather harmful picture of autism/autistic traits. they don't make you into an asshole, they make certain areas of life harder to navigate. in Prowl's case, i think you can definitely say that both his good and bad traits can be used for the headcanon, it's just that he also doesn't do himself any favors when it comes to people liking him, and he's well aware of that. he doesn't pretend to be a good person, but he still gets frustrated when people don't see things the way he does.

it's difficult even trying to articulate my thoughts here because i don't want to be misunderstood oughhh i just relate to him because i tend to answer rhetorical questions because i can't pick up on whether or not someone is being genuine in asking, but im really fucking good at reading body languages. it's like a game of life or death to me. i took classes for something that seems to come easier to people, building up the skill. all just to still not get people on a fundamental level. Oh well

[itstheval]

Memory of a Quest

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

Isabeau didn't know what to do with his hands. He'd never been in this situation before.

Siffrin had invited him out to visit a shop, on a 'secret mission'. He was confused, of course - this was something he did with Odile, not with Isabeau! But it had snapped into sense when he mentioned that he'd promised it during the loops. It was his therapist's idea…Get closure on the things he'd said to do during the loops, and it should help him put them to rest.

Why he'd promised to take Isabeau out antiquing was beyond him, but anything for Sif, right?

So there he was, standing in an antique store and trying to figure out how much he was allowed to touch. Not that there was too much interesting…A few familytales, some knick-knacks from people who'd moved on or passed on, things like that. It seemed important to Sif, though, and that's what Isabeau decided to focus on.

Siffrin didn't…have much of a past, he'd come to realize. He'd thought that it was just that he'd Changed! People do that, leaving their pasts behind, trying to pretend they don't exist, and Isa was nothing if not considerate. The truth was way more troublesome…There wasn't just a bad past behind Sif, or a past that belonged to someone he wasn't anymore, but nothing at all. Like if he let down his walls, instead of a bustling city, there was dry desert.

Well, the group had decided (but Isabeau especially), if there was nothing there, he'd water the crops and build the city with his own hands. He'd erect a town as great as the bustling Jouvente he left. Bigger even! With a nice number of bakeries full of memories of good food, and maybe a few Houses of Change…This metaphor was getting away from him.

So there Isabeau stood, surrounded by history that meant nothing to him, watching the love of his life go through each thing, turning it over in fascination.

"What're ya looking for, anyway?" Isa finally decided to ask, startling Siffrin from holding a small glass frog. "If I knew, maybe I could help?"

Sif turned to look at him, and the look of uncertainty hit him hard, despite his best efforts. "I…Don't know." Sif admitted, and Isa put the pieces together just a moment before Sif continued. "Something I remember, I guess. Something from back home."

Isabeau nodded, keeping his smile broad and warm, and ruffling Sif's hair. Thankfully, Mira had managed to teach him how to take care of it, so it wasn't as greasy as it once was…The first few times he'd done that, shortly after leaving Dormont, had not been a great feeling! Luckily, Isabeau knew how to keep things like that hidden (never show them let them think you're fine and dumb and-).

"So, stuff with stars? Or…The Universe?" Isabeau tried to think of anything else that could be a clue, that he could home in on. "Or…It was an island, maybe stuff with boats?" He asked it innocently, but the way Sif was looking at him made him pause.

"You…Remember all that? Now?" Siffrin had gone from curious to shocked, to almost crying, in seconds. Oh Change, what did that mean?!

"Well of course I do!" Isabeau tried. "They're important to you, aren't they?"

OOF!

A small, Sif-shaped missile impacted his chest, and Sif was hugging him and sniffling, looking up. This was important to the little rogue, huh? He tried reaching a hand around, to rub his back through the smooth cloak Sif always wore.

"Of course I remember. Why wouldn't I? They're things you care about. It'd be like not remembering Odile likes books, or Bon likes pineapple." You give a small laugh, your words quiet in the store whose customers all had their eyes turned to you now.

"I…I just, you never remembered before. Not when I didn't…"

"Do it perfectly?" Isabeau gave a sigh. Not for the first time, he wished he could've explained himself sooner. "Sif, just because that's when you learned that I knew, doesn't mean it's the only time I knew. I've cared about you for…For so very long. And if you can't remember it, I'll do my best to remember it for you."

Isabeau wasn't sure that was the right thing to say. Sif buried his head again, but the squeezing of arms around him made him oof, and he rubbed all the harder in return. "All of us will, Sif. Now…Shouldn't we be looking around?" Change, save him from the stares of random passersby…

Change was listening, or at least Siffrin decided to return to his search. He wiped his eyes, and Isa patted his back as he watched the puffiness of them, the darker shades that were a sure sign he'd been crying. "Right…" Sif managed, his voice wavering. "The Quest."

Isa allowed himself a little laugh at that description. The quest? That's really how they were thinking about this, still? Well…Nothing wrong in helping him. "Yes, we must quest forth for the mighty secrets of old." He allowed a nod, as though it wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd said in quite some time.

Siffrin felt like an idiot. This was nothing new, but it'd been happening less recently? So it didn't feel great.

Of course Isabeau wouldn't know what to look for out on a secret quest! Of course this would make the whole thing awkward! And of course he'd wound up having to be comforted, again, when everything went wrong, again.

Thankfully, as Doctor Jinn had put it, he's got the same chance as everyone else to make it right. And Isabeau had remembered! He'd actually remembered, even though they hadn't gone stargazing! Or anything!

…Why hadn't they gone stargazing yet? They needed to remember to fix that later.

For now, though, they managed to focus on other things. Like the antiques around them. They had to admit, this had always fascinated them. Every single one of them, every item in the shop, with a history longer than Siffrin could imagine. He picked up a notebook with a hand symbol on it, and took a moment to try to imagine just how many other generations had held the same thing they're holding. Who wrote you? They thought it to themself as they stared, not really taking in the book in front of them. How many people read from you, how many lives did you change? What story were they holding in their hands right now, without knowing any of it?

They put it down with significantly more reverence than they'd picked it up, then jumped at Isabeau's voice. Stars, they'd gotten so lost in their own head again!

"Hey Sif, Stars are a thing from…Your country, right?" A part of them curled up at the way that Isa had to talk around the name of their home, but a much more interested part perked up.

"Yeah, why? What did you find?" They started towards the aisle that Isabeau was down, and then paused dead in their tracks.

"Well, this hat has all kinds of stars on the inside, see?"

It couldn't be.

That hat.

That. Hat.

That hat that saved them. That hat they'd last seen in the House. That hat that blew away on the wind. That hat that was their only upgrade, their only proof of getting somewhere for themself, their only proof of-!

"Woah! Okay, maybe stars aren't so good on hats? What, is it like, it's making a fake sky or something and that's not supposed to happen?" Isa went to put the hat back down, and they all but lunged forward. "NO!"

"No no no, I'm sorry, it's just, it's important, it's a big thing, I'm sorry, please let me have it, I'll pay you back, any amount you want, anything, please!"

They were babbling, but they couldn't seem to stop. That Hat. The memory of an orrery, of a tale they could only remember in their blankest moments, the memory of how they'd fought their way through. Of their darkest hours, too. But…It had been there.

"Woah woah woah! That's…Okay, star hats are good, got it! I'll tell you what…You tell me what's so important about this hat, and I'll pay for it entirely. Otherwise, it's a loan, you get it?"

Isa's voice had a laugh in it that Siffrin clung to as a lifeline. They slowly pulled themself back into place, like a sailor climbing back aboard after falling off their ship. They were here, not there. They didn't have it. They barely had their dagger. They didn't…need something, that armoured them, that saved them like it did. But at the same time…

"Alright, but it's…Loop stuff, not Island stuff. So…After we get out of here, okay?"

"Alright!" A heavy hand deposited it onto Siffrin's head, and they had the decency to blush about it, even if they did press up into the hand (not at all like a cat don't ask questions) and smile. "And if that's a Loop thing, you don't have to even tell me about it. I've never seen loop stuff make you that happy. Or…I guess, make you smile, a little? Either way, it's nice to know they weren't all bad! Even when you weren't trying your hardest."

Siffrin paused at that phrasing, and then gave a nod. The hat was theirs. It reminded them, the way it cut off their vision. It kept their eyes forward, and down. Above was only the same stars they always knew…They wondered if that was how everyone else saw the world all the time? But, Isabeau was turning, and starting to look around.

"Rusted garden shears…" Siffrin's wince was missed, thankfully. "A weird needle-pointed sword, some shades, I wonder what all this is about?" The thought made you step up, and look at what Isabeau had found. That was right…It looked like all the equipment you never found, in that last fateful loop, had somehow wound up here. Minus the fish book…Itchy-ology? Icky-ology? Something like that. The fish book, the earrings, and it looked like Bonbon's 'weapons' weren't there either. But the rest of it, all gathered up in one place, like someone'd put it there on purpose.

The world tilted under you.

It wasn't the first time you'd felt that, and you gripped your hands into fists. You were here. You were now. Gravity still worked. Breathing still worked. Don't get lost, Siffrin! Don't lose it, Siffrin! Bob your knees, feel the way the world feels under your feet. Close your eyes, then open them again, and look at things fresh, without the tilt your brain put on it. The tilt wasn't real.

It felt real.

It felt more real than the world around you. You reached out, and touched the sword's hilt, before jerking your hand back like you were burned. Was it going to vanish, now that you've seen it? Would…could…the universe still reset itself? Did you still have its eye? No. The sword was still there, just like the rest, just like the hat on your head, just like all of it.

Isa said something. You couldn't hear what. The words pulsed in your ears, your head throbbing at the tempo of the sounds, but you didn't understand them. Sorry, Siffrin's not here right now, can I take a message? You laughed, and even in your own throbbing ears it sounded like half a sob.

You were hugged! You were held! Hands were around you!

You jumped at the feeling, but it did ground you. The feeling pushed you back into your body like a puzzle piece slotted into place, and whoever held you turned you away from those…items. Dishware, it turned out, was on the other side. Dishes and cups, ancient and cracked, dusty even here.

"You back, Sif?" Isabeau. Isa. He's here. He's holding you. He's…Holding you. You could feel the way every little shift of your breath made sensation flare over your body, the slightest motion pulling and pushing your skin in ways you aren't anticipating, and you shiver. You can't pull away…You can't. You can't tell him this isn't what you want. You have to stay here. You aren't sure why that's what your mind latched onto, but it was true. You wanted to stay there in his arms, even if the back of your brain was screaming about the way it felt.

Stay there. Breathe. Worry later. Breathe. Respond.

"I'm back. But…I think we need to go." You managed, at your breathiest.

"Okay…Do you want to go alone, or should I stay with you?"

Considerate Isabeau. Always at your side, as long as you'll let him be.

"Stay. I'll follow you…we still need to pay for the hat. And, I'm sorry, Isa. About…"

"Don't worry about it!" He cut you off, which was good because you didn't have the words to continue that thought. "I wasn't sure what we were looking for, but it sure wasn't that! We can finish up our secret quest some other day."

You smiled. You'd have to explain yourself later, but…For now, Isabeau was there. Your rock. Your personal Savior.

You were glad to have him.

+++

"Just a collection of…items?" Odile asked, and all you could do was nod.

"Some shears, a hat, a sword, a bow…Just things you'd find in any store. You're sure you don't know?"

"Not at all. He's never done that before."

Siffrin had vanished off to your shared room when you returned, clutching the hat tight to his chest. You promised you'd give him space, and you'd ask before you came in, but in the meantime you felt like you had to solve this mystery. If it hurt Siffrin, you want to know about it, and stop it! Whether he believed it or not!

But this…

"It hit him hard. Almost as hard as that time Mira woke him up from his nap." You didn't think anything would compare to that day. "And he was alright when he wasn't looking at them, like Jinn said. I'm glad I didn't let him go alone."

"You said he found a hat? That he thought he should wear? A sword, like Mirabelle has…and a bow, like she wears. Glasses like mine…" Odile took a moment to adjust her glasses. "I believe I'll be going shopping, Isabeau. If you think you can help him alone?"

You gave a nod, trying not to think about what Odile was saying. You didn't see any gloves there, and with a clench of your hands you felt your crystal knuckles at the ready. Whatever was happening, you couldn't help but wonder how you were excluded from it. As much as you tried not to.

Instead of dwelling on that, you walked upstairs and knocked on the door to your shared room, waiting for the faint sound of 'come in'. Thank Change, it wasn't too long in coming.

Siffrin was staring at his hat when you came in, curled with his knees up near his chin on the bed and facing towards the door. One finger had been tracing the lines on the inside of it, and rested there as you walked in and gently shut the door.

"Want to talk about it?" You asked, hoping against hope.

"No."

"That's a shame." You walked over to the bed, and sat down, watching them. It was a practiced motion, and you both knew what it meant. You saw Siffrin set the hat down, saw him order his words, and saw him decide to speak - and made sure he saw the thankful smile that came from that decision.

"They were from the House. Each one of them was…a piece of the story that never happened. Something else that I left behind." Left behind was good! You liked left behind! It was a lot better than 'crabbed up' or 'completely blinded' or anything else they'd called it! "When I saw them, I…I just remembered. Everything I'd been forgetting. Everything I didn't get to do. Everything I tried to go back and do." You liked that less, but…the phrasing wasn't bad, at least. "I don't know how they got here, but it was like they were tracking me down, to find me again."

"Would you…like new memories with them?" Another one of the doctor's suggestions. "Or do you want to put those behind you? We don't have to go back, but now that you remember…wouldn't it be nice to prove this time was better than anything you left behind?"

"Yeah…Thanks, Isa." They reached a hand out, and you smiled brightly. Another concession, another suggestion, and you took his hand and used your thumb to slide the glove up the back of it, before planting a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Not! That you did that every time! But, every time he opened up, you wanted to give him something. And showing him how you loved him? You'd do that whenever he let you. This was a good chance.

From the smile in their eyes, they agreed.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

A soldier yearns for home as a pining pilot watches on.

cw: hints of a shitty ex, soldiers away for Christmas.

Nik hadn’t questioned the guitar that John had loaded onto the Black Hawk. He had transported more unusual things into the heart of eastern Europe, and would do so in the future at John's behest, no doubt. That hadn't stopped him inspecting it while John had been busy briefing the 141 and an attaché of mercenaries Laswell had sent to support.

The case was solid black plastic, chipped and dented, and littered with band stickers. Some had faded to white completely, while others had peeled in places. His eyes lingered over a few bands he'd never heard of - The Fratellis, The Wombats, The… Pigeon Detectives - and some he did. John had a rather broad musical palette.

The instrument itself was well loved too, with a chip out of the main body and more faded stickers across the back and front. The varnish had worn off the fretboard, but the strings were relatively fresh; Nik ran the pads of his fingers over them and they hummed out a warm note. The musical echo of John's smile, Nik thought fondly. He clipped the case closed and grabbed a ratchet strap from a shelf to keep it secure.

They made camp in an abandoned building in the suburbs outside Timișoara. Nik could think of worse places to spend Christmas than the City of Roses, but everyone else's spirits were low. It was Christmas Eve and every soldier huddled in that little building was yearning for hearth and home. Nik had spent so long without one that he had learned to find solace where he could, and if that was enjoying the philharmonic opera and a glass of Țuică in a beautiful Romanian city after the mission, then so be it.

As he walked the floors, he heard Gaz talking softly on his phone, Soap and Ghost too, with muted Scottish voices coming through from the otherside. The lieutenant had lost so much and the sergeant had taken to including him in his own family. One day they would make it official. Nik had already picked out his suit for the occasion.

The team had a limited amount of downtime before all boots hit the ground and they went dark, and every single one had searched out their loved ones in whatever way they could. Nik hadn't realised his own heart had done the same until he ended up outside John's door.

It was ajar and Nik could hear him moving around. He was about to knock when he caught sight of John sitting down in front of a laptop, and his hand hovered in midair. A hazy picture appeared on the screen, flickering once as John adjusted the antennae.

“C'n y’ear me, Carol?”

“Yeah, John. C'n ‘ear ya, la.”

“‘Ow ya keepin’?”

“Fine, it's… I wish y’were ‘ere. I'm… it's hard. Bizzies were round lookin’ fer ‘im, he's gone an' been a prick again.”

“I know, ‘m sorry, be home soon–ahh, there she is!”

Nik leaned in and saw a new face appear on the screen. Kimmy. She was a combination of John and his sister, without a single trade of her father, as far as Nik could tell; erratic brown hair that had fought a comb to the death, broad nose and distinguished forehead, and those blue eyes were clearly a Price birthright, because they gazed owlishly from the screen as she worked out who her mother was talking to and then squealed with delight.

“Uncle John! You commin’ fer scran? Ma go’ pigs in blankets from down The Asda an’.. an’ that spotted dick wi’ custard, an’ an’...”

John chuckled. “Naw, love. Gotta sort out some bad men, then ‘ll be ‘ome, but ‘m gonna miss dinner.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, love, ‘m sorry. Ma got the clobber ya asked fer though.”

“Yeah…”

She didn't look convinced and Nik's heart ached for her.

“Bu’ listen, figured we could still do ar sing along at least. You ready?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Eh, yeah! Wait, wait…”

She left the screen, returning moments later with what looked like an Action Man doll in a carrier vest, and plopped herself back down on her mother's lap.

“Ready!”

John tweaked the strings and played a few trial notes to test the tuning, before he opened up into the introduction. Nik had never heard him play before. Not in all the years they had known each other, and it felt strangely intimate now, John's full bicep sloped over the body of the guitar as he strummed through the chords, agile fingers moving across the frets. Nik wished he could see from the front. Imagined it so clearly in his mind’s eye.

And then John started singing and Nik had to place a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“I wanna thank the storm that brought the snow, and thanks to the string of lights that make it glow, but I wanna thank you, baby. You make it feel like Christmas.” His voice was rich, the auditory companion to the dark amber of the whiskey in his office, gravelly and a little rough from so many years smoking strong cigars, but he carried a note perfectly, even if he was keeping the volume low. Nik felt his heart trying to beat out of his chest, a little breathless as he drank in every word.

Despite the subtle crackle of the poor laptop speakers, Carol’s voice carried just as well, low and silky, as John played through her verse, his smile visible even at the sides through the perk of his round cheeks. “It barely took a breath to realise, we're gonna be a classic for all time. I wanna thank you, baby. You make it feel like Christmas.”

When they fell in together, Nik realised this wasn't a one-off. They harmonised perfectly, practised, John dropping his lower baritone to allow Carol's voice to carry over the top, and Kimmy’s delighted squeak made Nik grin so broadly his face hurt. “Sweet gingerbread made with molasses, my heart skipped and I reacted, can't believe that this is happenin’, like a present sent from God, sleigh bells singin’ Hallelujah, stars are shinin’ on us too, I wanna thank you, baby… you make it feel like Christmas.”

John leaned back, dipping his shoulders, chuckling as he played through another bar, before he carried the next verse with Carol humming and echoing beneath. “Thought I was done for, thought that love had died, but you came along, I swear you saved my life, and I wanna thank you, baby, ‘cause you make it feel like Christmas.”

It was as Carol squeezed Kimmy and pressed a kiss into her hair, the Action Man dancing across the screen in Kimmy's small hands, that Nik realised John was singing to his niece. Not some abstract lover provided by the song, but the little girl that beamed at him like he was a superhero, held by the sister he had raised himself. John had no wife, no children, but he did have a family. A family that loved him, missed him, looked at him like he hung the stars.

Nik dropped his eyes for a moment, but he couldn't look away for long. It was like staring into a bonfire in a snowstorm; the warmth on his skin warding off the bitter cold, but the intensity of the light hurting his eyes. He wanted it so ardently that his entire body ached.

“I never thought I'd find a love like this, but I found forever in that very first kiss, I wanna thank you, baby, you make it feel like Christmas.” Carol finished the lyrics and they harmonised through the last few bars as she kissed her daughter’s rosy cheeks, bouncing her on her lap as she giggled.

John struck the final note and rested his palm over the strings to bring their warm hum to an end.

“Ahh, ‘gain! Again!’

John chuckled, a sound even warmer than the one made by his guitar. “Naw, sweet’eart. S’time fer bed, or Santa ain't gonna visit."

“Yer Santa,” Kimmy said tartly. “An’ y’ain’ ‘ere.”

“Olrigh', smartarse, but if I ‘ave t’ get a flight back over ‘specially t’ rob yer presents back, I will.”

“You wouldn't."

He said nothing, but Nik could picture the raised eyebrow, the stern set of his eyes and lips. Kimmy pouted and slid from her mother's lap, looking mischievous and reluctant, but complying because she knew there was no room for negotiation. Before she disappeared, she leaned in and the camera caught the top of her head as she kissed the screen.

“Love ya, Uncle John. See soon.”

“Sleep tight, ya little beast.”

She scurried away and Carol looked back at her brother, her eyes, just as blue as his, brimmed with anxiety. “You come back safe, y’ear? Safe. No heroics, ya get the job done, ya get yer arse t’ my dinner table before New Years.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She kissed her fingers and they covered the camera briefly. “Love you, big brother.”

She took one final look at him and then the camera went black. He stared at the screen and then let out a long, rattling sigh, his face falling to his palm. Nik’s heart caught in his throat and he was frozen between leaving John to his sadness or offering comfort and revealing he'd been hovering there the whole time, invading his privacy.

He didn't need to worry for long. John's phone rang and he snatched it from the nearby table, sliding his guitar behind him to hang down his back. “Price,” he said, a stern bark. Back to business; John tidied away into the recesses of his heart, Captain Price assuming his place. John listened intently, hand on his hip. “Copy. ETA?” Another pause. “Fuck, that's too soon, we’re… yeah, Rog, we’ll be ready. We’ve got Nik with us.”

Nik smiled, stepping back. He had barely retreated four paces down the hall before his phone buzzed in his back pocket. It was John: “need you, 5 mins”.

Nik ducked into a nearby room to wait out the time. If he appeared too quickly, John would know he had been lingering nearby. He had no right to have invaded that private moment, and John deserved to believe it had been all his. A quiet moment to himself before the clusterfuck to come.

As Nik waited in the dark for the minutes to tick by, he added two new people to his silent, unwavering commitment to John Price. Nikolai would personally return John to Carol and Kimmy, their hero, safe and sound. They would sing together at Carol’s dinner table by New Years, Nik would make sure of it.

Nik left the room and knocked on John's door. When he entered, he was greeted by a lopsided smirk as John looked up from checking his M1911. “Time to get evil, Comrade.”

Nik grinned back. “It would be my pleasure.”

[calissarowan]

how do you think the wizards would interact with the other villains? I esp need to know how they would get along (or not) with selina

Alrighty! Let’s do this!

Icy: The Trix come as individuals. It bugs me when they get judged as a group. She and Ogron would butt heads right away. They both want to destroy the Winx, or whatever it is they’re doing, but they don’t want to do it together. If either one tries to start saying something to do with a plan, the other will cut them off. In the end, it devolves into insults and name calling. Anagan just has to calm Ogron down and mediate. He’s probably unsuccessful. She and Gantlos get along fine; if they’re teaming up, then they find that their powers work well together. Icy creates ice walls, and Gantlos shatters them to fire the shards at their enemies. Duman’s just helping Ogron argue. And following Icy around with a hairdryer until he winds up as a popsicle for an hour.

Darcy: Gantlos doesn’t trust this woman as far as he can throw a planet. He’s strong, he can throw most things a long way, had to go for a planet to make the saying work. She’s far too manipulative, and he doesn’t want her near him and his friends. She finds him frustrating because he just sees through all her manipulations. She and Anagan are both kinda flirty, so I think they’d get along okay, and probably banter back and forth quite a bit. She’s trying to manipulate him, he’s just having fun. She and Ogron are both trying to play the other, but actually get along pretty well when they have to take someone else down. Duman thinks it’ll be funny to screw with the queen of illusions, so he shifts into Icy for a day to find out all of Darcy’s secrets, and she’s ready to kill him when she finds out, but then realises these powers are actually pretty useful, and she won’t kill him if he’ll use them to help her screw with people.

Stormy: Thinks all of the wizards are kinda pathetic, frankly. The fact that they ran from so many of their fights…ugh, it makes her sick. They weren’t overpowered, they just left when they could have destroyed the Winx. It’s disappointing. Though she gives them props for the plan where they set the building on fire, that was badass. She’s only gonna listen to Icy, Ogron doesn’t get to try and boss her around, so if he tries, she will zap him. Eventually it just turns into her electrifying everything he touches and giving him static shocks, mostly because it’s funny. Duman knows, but doesn’t say anything because he also thinks it’s funny. He and Stormy get along pretty well, they like messing with the Winx, and she and Gantlos just break everything together. She thinks Anagan is boring, because he’s quite calm and doesn’t really do much, or lose it that easily, and she thinks a bad guy should have a much hotter temper and if your job on the team is to keep everyone calm, do you really need to be on it? So she ignores him, or tries to provoke him into snapping, because she wants to see that.

Darkar: He thinks the wizards are…fine. Not the greatest evil to come from his darkness, but has to give them credit for making Earth so miserable. He’d likely command them all immediately, which would tick Ogron off, because he’s the leader, not a bird insect bird man, but Darkar would have him aware of the power dynamic very quickly, and the wizards would serve him. Gantlos would be annoyed about being ordered around, probably start a fight, and Anagan is just trying not to rock the boat. Duman’s impressed with this guy’s power and his aesthetics, and wondering what he could do with them, while Ogron’s trying to take cues from the source of all evil so he can finally end his enemies. Maybe Darkar shows them how to be better villains, and helps them to overcome their remaining humanity, the compassion or care that keeps them from achieving their goals. They’d all be conflicted about that, because they’re evil, but they’re shades of grey rather than black and white, and so maybe in the end they forgo his teachings and have to give up evil in order to escape him.

Valtor: @devilheartsblog has a really cool au where the wizards wind up working for Valtor which I totally love, actually! I just thought I’d bring that up. Now…he and Ogron would definitely be competitive with each other, since they both sorta see themselves as the best (and the most dramatic). Valtor repeatedly hits Ogron with the argument that he almost took over the universe, while Ogron couldn’t take the wings from an untrained teenager. Valtor would also very much like to be in charge, and Ogron would very much like it if he was not, so there’s plenty of arguing over leadership. Anagan and him get along fine, but Anagan isn’t letting him try to edge out Ogron. Gantlos…kinda secretly thinks maybe Valtor might be good at leading? Just that their last plans have crashed and burned so much. Though they’d clash in a fight because Valtor wants to do this with finesse and thinking it through and Gantlos wants to punch everyone until the problem is solved. And Valtor just can’t with Duman, this man is too much for him, just leave him alone. In response Duman messes with him as much as humanly possible. He’s not his friend, he owes him no maturity.

Tritannus: I am not great with Tritannus, but I know someone who is, so I hope it’s okay, but I put this question to @tritannus, and here is his take: He would probably be closed off towards the wizards, refusing to even give them any glance mainly due to his experience with older male figures, mainly his father. He slowly warms up to Anagan first, being the most approachable. Duman might be next, but Tritannus would hate him sometimes whenever Duman taunts him with his mutant form. Gantlos is probably the third. It was clear Gantlos is kind of a protector for his friends in a sort of way. If they ever met, Tritannus would not want to even look at him, believing he would be the exactly the same as Neptune. To his surprise, anytime the wizard talked, he would open up without doubting. He probably would hate Ogron the most. Ogron has a plan for the Earth fairies, he somewhat refuses to listen to the other wizards, especially Gantlos (taken from canon episode ideas). He might just take up Duman’s offer in pranking the redhead.

Selina: Ogron likes this one. She’s smart, she’s got strong magic, and she’s pretty ruthless. Immediate student and mentor energy. He wants to know everything about her book, and she wants to know every dark spell he’s got. She’s heard all about them from Eldora, so she already thinks they’re cool, but she finds out that the stories of them being heartless and pure evil are kinda bull***t, and they do care about each other, and about her. She and Gantlos have some issues when he tries to teach her how to use her powers for brute force, since she prefers manipulating and tricking and sending her creatures to fight, and Gantlos dislikes the idea of hiding behind monsters, and thinks she has to be able to hold her own in a real fight. She and Duman screw with the Winx together, and she shows him new creatures he can shift into, and Anagan listens to her about all the problems that brought her to evil, like Bloom, and being pressured to be a fairy when she’s always been a witch.

Kalshara: All the wizards: “Who the hell is this sad Duman ripoff?” They have to admit she has a few decent moments, but they can all agree, she’s a disappointment. She can only turn into a few things, can’t even mask that it’s her, and Gantlos thinks she’s a coward for repeatedly hiding behind her brother and his magic rather than just time travelling for herself. Duman challenges her to a shapeshifting competition and wings two minutes in, Ogron tries to fix her Allan but gives up and Anagan is the only one actually being cordial. He still kinda thinks she sucks, though. And Kalshara actually also thinks they suck, because they couldn’t steal the wings from a kid, and they got frozen in Omega.

Brafillius: The sentiment from everyone is just…how has this guy stayed alive this long? He’s just something of an idiot, but his magic is surprisingly powerful. Ogron just ignores him because he can’t listen to him blather, and Gantlos and Anagan actually feel kinda bad for the guy, he just gets ignored and degraded repeatedly, despite having come through with actual results a few times. Gantlos tells him to just ditch Kalshara and do his own thing, trap the Winx in that hat of his, and Anagan gets the feeling he’s mostly just being evil for his sister, so tells him he doesn’t have to do this. Brafillius likes Gantlos and Duman the best, because they just kinda just…do whatever they want, and they get results and he wants to do that. He wants Ogron’s approval, since he blatantly dislikes him so much, but Ogron still thinks this is an idiot with a dumb hat, he’s avoiding that at all costs.

Obscurum: …I don’t have much for him, honestly, but here we go. He likes to act like he’s above them, and the wizards all just think this is a tiny weirdo with stupidly-named creatures. Duman takes hordes of Star Yummies to mess around with, then realises Obscurum, despite being tiny and kinda bad at naming stuff, is actually quite dangerous. Ogron is jealous this guy also has dark vortexes and teleportation, and Obscurum is a lot less meek with them than they’d expected. He’s like that with Valtor; to anyone else, he’s the servant of freakin’ Valtor! He’s the best! These guys should be bowing down and hoping his master doesn’t obliterate them!

[santiagoxalgora]

"Oh, so your offer of sharing is to save yourself from a bad morning after. Got it." There was some humor in his voice, as he made it seem like he was assuming she didn't do well with hangovers. "If you're that superstitious I can find some building to knock on, you know knocking on wood as that saying goes." Anything to help. Christmas was about being giving after all. "I don't know, some like a challenge. Hopefully the odds are in your favor." Santiago assumed though she wouldn't take too lightly to that move, so he hoped for the other guy he didn't get a little too courageous for his own good. "I like the lights, but think all the holiday food is probably my number one." He was a foodie that was for sure. "What about you- or is it safer to say what is something you can tolerate with these things?"

"Oh, it's going to get worse." Madelyn knew that for a fact. "It's the reason why I'm sharing because I would hate to get blackout drunk and forget about this glorified moments." She didn't want to just go through the night and know she wasn't going to remember tomorrow but it didn't meant that she was going to listen to that old man sing while completely sober. No, she wasn't going to sacrifice that much. "You may have just jinxed us. As long as he doesn't try to pull me up to sing with him, then I might be able to tolerate him a little more." The drink had already done its work with relaxing her and helping her to ignore it for the time being. "What's your favorite part about these things?"

[housecow]

I find it strange how you'd like to get so fat that you depend on someone but at the same time you're saying that you wanna do gardening. It's like there is a confrontation between your kink and your regular life...

in fantasy (or with a lot of consideration between me and my feeder) i’d become dependent. realistically, i’ve always dreamt of having my own garden and i think i could keep up with it at over 350lbs tbh

why can’t i have both…… scooter accessible garden pls. with raised beds i won’t have to bend over too much 🥺

bonus. bacon and tomato sandwich w home grown red snapper variety tomatoes, one of the only beefsteak-like varieties that grow in TX 🥳 DELICIOUS w mayo and some black pepper.

[bumblydumbly]

Already said this but since everybody is too busy on the failmance happening im gonna say it again: Vi starting their confrontation by saying “never thought [my sister] would orphan kids” only to be stopped from killing jinx. By an orphan kid.

[desperate-daemon-days]

Excellent choice, the slash dash build is generally considered the more 'meta' one for lvlcap but also I dont care personally and like katanas and laser swords Read more bc this is gonna be long AND unstructured. Like, really fucking long

So excalibur-ESPECIALLY his exalted blade builds-struggle a lot wherein you have to sacrifice either a large chunk of damage or a large chunk of survivability and i swear all the loud dubstep intro youtubers kinda forget about that. You'll quickly find yourself getting frustrated you cant just barely eke out one or the other, but WHATEVER (Also apologies for shitty formatting)

This is my general purpose build for umbra himself specifically leaning into his exalted blade, though it should be noted you can definitely swap things out depending on what you want from him. In this case, i like red crits, so wrathful advance-it makes chromatic blade crit, and combined with 747% status chance from the augment thats a lotta damage. That being said, i am aware not everyone skill issues like me into the sun, so i'll be providing alternatives depending on your tastes and how you wanna flavour your sword frame. Treat this more as a pick and choose, rather than a bible for what to do always. My mods are selected based on my playstyle and skill lvl, and it works into high SP lvls, but everyone is different. Theres some things that i could update looking at this-but admittedly, i havent touched it in a little while. This particular build is on the squishier side, and has some quirks born from problems i ran into with general day to day play.

Disclaimer; i am not a uber stronk gamar who never gets hit by anything. For such builds there are ten billion youtube videos. Don't care for the explanation? Easy summary of my build only; 2 Umbrals + brief/rolling + reaper + healing return = dual health/shield tanking. Combo with Guardian for shield refresh. Arcane fury for raw damage. Archon flow with cold emissive chromatic blade for energy gen, + corrosive on blade for armour strip. Lean into crit chance/damage/raw damage/faction if not lazy. Status chance covered by Chromatic blade.

Companion is dethcube with tenacious bond + vulklok to hit crit threshold. Energy generator + guardian for orbs and shield. other mods to taste, synth deconstruct good for healing + shard equilibrium. Madurai for ability strength or Naramon for combo decay reduction. Even vazarin for survivability isnt bad. Up to taste/needs, Subsume wrathful over 2 for crit chance.

Shards are

-2 amber tauforged (Energy orb efficiency-can replace one with casting speed, could get rid of other one for more melee crit damage but wouldn't recommend it) -2 Violet tauforged (one equilibrium style, other melee crit damage) -1 Azure tauforged (for raw health, but can replace with more melee crit damage easily. im just scared a lot) Keep reading if you want reasonings/alternatives!

Base frame mods/Arcanes

In terms of his survival, you can either lean heavily into health tanking if you wanna do gloom (in which case, replace brief respite with growing power, or even corrosive projection if you dont run smth else for armour strip like corrosive. Adaptation is still not worth it though over rolling, bc he has zero innate DR and no status cleanse), or do your conventional pure shield tanking with your 1/2/3 being your shield refresh button with brief respite/rolling guard/, and replace reaper with smth like aegis, or even a damage/ability arcane like molt augmented. Or you can mix it up, like I do, since i supplement my shields with my drone (i'll get to that in a minute) and use a single tauforged blue for base health.

Either way, he has nothing for survival, and you CANNOT do invis based survival bc exalted blade breaks shade/huras, you'll be running around too much for quiver to be consistent (unless you like doing that silly arrow trick in the sentinel) and....well, you're welcome to try and consistently headshot with a sword. Invuln based survival is a slash dash only, im afraid. If you do slash dash, invis through companion is your go-to, with rolling in the event your little dude dies. (I like not clenching my ass even during basic missions, and I like scaling beyond basic lvl 400 stuff so) Raw stat-wise, you obviously want to run duration + strength. Efficiency is the drop stat here bc going negative range reaaaally sucks for furious javelin, and also affects your 1, which in this build is basically rolling guard...2! As mentioned, you become fully invulnerable, so if your rolling guard is down you can ride out a status effect with it, or if you find yourself low health etc. The 'duration' is dependent on how many enemies you chain to-which is affected by range. Hence, low efficiency, higher duration to compensate. It wont do as much damage bc you'll be using your 4 as its stat determiner, but it should still be decent. High strength is self explanatory. (It should be noted that even if you slash dash into nothing, you'll still get a brief window of invulnerability. No shame in hurtling yourself down a corridor with it)

Arcane wise, as expected on a melee build, fury is basically compulsory for that big damage spike. You could run avenger, but it won't be the most consistent since ideally you're either shield gate invulnerable or slowing shit down with gloom to prevent getting hit mostly entirely. Arcane strike is another alternative, if you want to not need to slot any attack speed mods at all. As for the other slot-basically, either run reaper if you want hp regen, or aegis if you reaaaally want to commit to shields. Or, if you're confident in your rolling skills, slot on more ability strength/duration/melee boosting arcanes. Hell, energize is a good option, but i hate recommending it bc i still dont have it maxed :,D I am not that confident in my shield tanking (ESPECIALLY since i used to mostly do endurance runs against infested pre toxin/disruptor nerf), so hence my choice. No matter what you do, your biggest enemy will remain nullifiers and toxin eximus. Under absolutely NO CIRCUMSTANCES can you allow yourself to be caught with no energy/unable to cast, so treat him like a squishy caster frame, not a tanky melee frame.

NOTE: You can use normal primed flow. You want base energy for violet shard threshold (and energy ofc), but specifically archon flow is there because exalted weapons count as ability kills, which we'll be touching on in a sec.

Augments

We love chroma jank Furious javelin is one of those mods which reaally should be base functionality, because Radial javelin does so little damage its nonexistent. It's a lot better than it seems, because the damage multiplier basically acts like a melee only pre-change eclipse without the lighting fuckery. Sticking it in a large group, with decent ability strength you can easily reach several hundred %. That being said, there are some build variations without this, with javelin being subsumed for something else and purely leaning on the raw weapon damage instead. (Usually status DOT based blade builds are the ones that do this, which...i don't like status that much. I am biased bc status builds fall apart real fast when it comes to single target damage against stuff like acolytes/necramechs etc. Violence is terrifying and your goal is not to explode to them.) There is a sort of line-of-sight mech, but its a bit wonky-but generally, range = more enemies hit. Roll your way into a crowd and hit it. Chromatic blade is basically compulsory for any exalted blade build. It means we dont need to build any status chance on the weapon itself, and can commit to other multipliers. As for the status on the blade...well, it depends, AGAIN, on taste. I am forever afraid of no energy, so I run cold; this allows me to use archon flow for free orbs, with corrosive modded onto the weapon. You could also do electricity for corrosive, or heat for viral/heat (or heat/corrosive, your taste). Archon continuity also works, if you wanna only rock pure toxin. The world is your oyster! Just keep in mind the element does combine, but it'll prioritize what's on the blade itself.

Exalted Blade

Copy pasting the picture so you dont need to scroll lol

If i had made this build post galvanised mods, I would use them over sac steel. This is because Wrathful advance already covers my crit needs, so more raw crit damage would be better. Likewise, replacing gladiator might with galvanised elementalist or a faction mod may be better, and I would swap berserker fury with magnetic rush.

The reason why I am using 'may' and 'might' here is because it really, really isnt needed.

lvl 205 steel path corrupted gunners with basically 0 combo explode violently all the same. If you have those new mods, put them on! Or don't. Just treat it as you would any other crit based melee. Just keep in mind chromatic gets rid of the slash damage that comes with exalted's stats. Your damage modding does matter more if you decide to go for a more tanky build with gloom or eclipse, though.

What tennokai you use also is really up to taste, but its important you have it, so you can get free wrathful procs if you're using wrathful advance, or well...free heavies in general.

Companion

Because exalted is a channel, regen based energy sources do not work at all. So, you'll need orbs. Archon flow in my experience is not enough, even with all the shards i have slotted, so here comes dethcube to save the day.

Keep in mind the only really 'compulsory' mods are tenacious bond (for crit damage), Energy generator and Guardian. Everything else is to taste; but duplex bond is even more energy, momentous bond helps with damage + uptime, and everything else is general utility or survivability. Any vulklok build with a crit mod on it should push you over the 50% required.

Focus school

Really, this one is just whatever is comfy for you. Zenurik is always nice for the starting energy + ability strength from hardened wellspring, Madurai is...madurai, and Naramon is always nice for anything involving melees. Vazarin is solid for keeping you alive as usual, and Unairu helps with armour strip. I use zenurik bc again, im always shrieking about energy, but Madurai is best.

Subsumes I use wrathful because red crit = satisfying damage, and I love nuke or die builds. However! You can also run Roar or Xata's or Nourish if you wanna buff your damage in other ways (nourish in particular solves energy problems real well so it was very tempting). IRC Wrathful maths out to be the highest multiplier for raw damage, tho. Gloom or Eclipse are also very solid defensive options (as expected), but keep in mind you'll be losing a modifier for damage. There are prolly other funny options like tempest barrage for corrosive/viral if you wanna run the augment, or fuckin. Reave? Actually that would be a funny one now that i think about it but these are my solid picks. Gloom is safe. Gloom is comfy. Everyone puts gloom on everything for a reason. Same with eclipse. But personally, I think warframe is most enjoyed when walking on the edge of an explosion you yourself are generating.

As for what to subsume over, your 2 or 1 are my recommendations. Again, blind does nothing against eximus or overguarded enemies, so imo its the weakest of the kit if you're using javelin aug, whereas 1 can still be used as a consistent survival tool. If not using FJ, get rid of javelin obviously lol

Shards

Now, the 'optimal' sharding would probably be something like 4 violet tauforged for melee crit damage, 1 for casting. But in anything that has lower enemy density/has infested, you'll probably find yourself struggling a little. I like to make my builds as general purpose as possible; aka not only comfortably playable in survival sp missions. Hence, energy efficiency + equilibrium lite.

Energy effectiveness affects how much is recovered from the equilibrium as well, and we cant really fit the base mod on because Excal is already a 2 augment warframe with the only survivability coming from mods, so we're already strapped for space horrifically so. You could replace the equi shard with another crit damage one, though. I dont run casting bc i dont personally feel the need for it (the only thing with real casting delay is your 3, which isn't used too frequently) As for the azure shard, Reaper is hp% recovered, so it gives more wiggle room. Not needed at all, but again, i mod for comfort in a wide variety of missions, and this is what I personally find comfortable.

Realistically, if you arent a coward like me, smth like 1 casting, 1 energy orb effectiveness and 3 melee crit damage shards is more than enough. You could also experiment with the elemental shards; remember, exalted blade is considered an ability AND melee.

Anything else?

For weapons, bring at least one gun-or even melee!-that can gun down an acolyte by itself. I know that defeats the purpose somewhat, but violence is the menace of every casting frame everywhere, and even if your weapons can oneshot, nothing can account for shitty spawns. JUST IN CASE. JUST IN CASE!

Unfortunately, you cannot stat-stick exalted blade with gladiator mods. This is partially why desert wind is so much better than exalted. Any gladiator mods you wanna use? gotta be on it.

yes i did have to forma away umbral polarities. yes it does feel treasonous.

No, this build does not fare exceptionally well against rogue necramechs or archons or anything with that style of damage attenuation. Unfortunately, theres nothing in excal's kit that can bypass that. Not even slash dash. In fact slash dash builds are worse for that, as it cannot properly target them, and you'll burn through energy spamming it on one target.

If the sentience of umbra/disabling of buffs when going into operator pisses you off, dont forget the exilus augment is available. I personally dont really care, so i just slapped psf in there bc its a crutch at this point lmao

if you want the same experience as excalibur with half the stress and thrice the damage, just play baruuk. But where's the fun in that?

Well now that I’ve asked arthur out can someone please tell me how to make excalibur umbra good

[leucoratia]

Kraz, royal healer

Kraz (Razzy if they like you(but they like everyone)(except Jerry)) is a human (?) mage who voluntarily exiled themselves to the underground to follow monsterkind during the war. They are later appointed royal healer by the king and queen and has devoted themselves to the betterment of monster society ever since. They are the only human the royal scientist ever tolerated (although would you call sharing lab coats and beds tolerating or...something else?)

Information

-Species : mage (half monster, half human)

-Age : older than the barrier. As long as they will to live, it appears that a mage cannot age.

-Gender : apparently born a female, although it is unclear how sexual dimorphism develops in mages. Kraz does not specifically care.

-Soul : Green

-Height : 1.99m (6'5)

-Hair colour : Black (somehow iridescent ?)

-Eye colour : deep dark brown. Their sclera is grey as well.

-Build : sickly thin, actually skin and bones. They never eat much of anything, claiming that they do not need a lot of food. It worries people quite a lot, especially Toriel, but they have been like this for hundreds of years so... at least they're not dead ? Still, they scare the kids.

-Personnality : a sweet, calming presence. They exude an aura which makes anyone around them feel at peace. Although they are quite akward and generally anxious, they smile easily and brightly. Kraz is very friendly, caring, and kind to a fault. has quite an outdated manner of speech. A jokester. Always does their best to please people around them. Deeply devoted. Probably has some sort of attention deficit. Easily fascinated. Suffers from chronic bird behaviour (will bring you trinkets??).

-Likes : gardening, playing the piano, cooking, puzzles, collecting shiny trinkets, science, herbal medicine, cultivating bacteria, gift giving, late 1800's fashion, dark spaces, funny socks, Gaster.

-Dislikes : loud noises (especially clamoring crowds), being watched, sudden movements, bright reflective surfaces, small enclosed spaces, bitter foods.

Backstory

Kraz was born to a human mother and a monster father during the war, as mages often are. Abandoned by their mother, who could not endure the shame of their birth, they were taken under their father’s wing and raised amongst a small monster village. Early on, they manifested an extremely intense green soul and spectacular magical power, even for a mage. Although unequipped and unprepared to nurture such potential, the monsters in Kraz's community did their best to encourage the toddler's magical prowess, such as having them heal cuts and bruises, or speed up a few carrots' growth. But as war progressed, human armies swept through monster territory and eventually raided the child's village, pillaging and slaughtering everyone in their path. In these times mages were rare, being the product of monster-human relationships, but extremely sought after by humanity, who could only manifest minor magic potential. Stumbling upon the young Kraz and recognising in their physiology the traits of a "hybrid", human soldiers immediately identified them as a mage and took them away to be raised amongst humans. Their father, if he ever survived the attack, never stopped looking for his little bird until his dust settled on the ground. And so Kraz was raised in human war camps and settlements, amongst soldiers and other mages. Being so young, they only ever had vague memories of their time amongst monsters and soon put them to rest. As they grew, their healing powers grew with them, and it was soon clear to the commanders that Kraz may as well be the most spectacular healer that they had ever known, capable of rising men at death's door back on their feet and ready to fight in mere minutes. Suffice to say, as one of their greatest asset, they were sent from battlefield to battlefield, from division to division in order to rise the almost dead and reinforce the dwindling human forces. But they had a fault. Kraz, at their heart, was kind. Compassionate. Caring. And oh so, so young still, no more than fifteen. And the pain, the suffering inflicted by and to monsters broke their soul into pieces. See, despite all the propaganda, they could never quite bring themselves to hate monsters. Hate half of themselves. And so in the midst of the battle's confusion, in secret, they would slip a hand or a green bullet towards a bleeding frog here. A dusting lion there. They wished they could just run to them and pour their whole magic into the wounded, but the human soldiers watched them. Always. But eventually, as war was nearing its end, temptation was too great. They could take it no more. And so during a bloody battle, they slipped away from the soldiers surrounding them and ran to a fallen monster, who was already dusting away. A skeleton. The young mage fell to their knees, reaching for the monster's broken face with magic already at their fingertips and reassurances spilling from their lip, and poured everything they had left as the soldier tried to struggle and speak. He barely was able to call to them, in a language they didn't know, his bones just starting to reform, but fate is oh so cruel. Kraz could only slip their guard's attention for so long, and just as life started to flicker back in the man's face, they were torn off his bloodied body and promptly covered in his dust, their work undone by the fall of a sword. As the soldiers dragged the teen away, they could only claw down at the dusty floor to rack up the dust, and a nametag. Dingbats.

"Traitor", they were deemed. "An error of nature", "a freak", they were called. But a valuable freak nonetheless. Their magical abilities were still wholly unmatched through all of the land. They were needed. And so Kraz was beaten down, corrected, whipped back into shape. Into following orders. Royals spoke of banishment. Of a barrier. And they needed mages.

Finally, monsters were defeated. They were to be sealed underground. Kraz and the other mages assembled, staring down at a beaten monsterkind, a sea of eyes and bleeding hearts crying out at them as they chanted the words.

They couldn't do it. They couldn't.

They ran to them.

As the barrier rose up, this child fell to their knees in front of Asgore and Toriel and begged them to let them stay. To right this wrong. To help. They did.

And so Kraz poured their heart out. It wasn't easy, getting monsters to accept human help, even though they shared some physical traits. They slaved away for nothing in return, growing crops magically in dead ground and never taking even a grain of wheat for themselves. Endlessly imbuing water with their energy to create remedies for everyone. Only accepting the bare minimum of food to stay alive, even though they felt as if they were tearing this food away from the hands of the needy. They tried so, so hard to repair humanity's sins. Clear their name in the eyes of monsters.

And eventually, it somewhat worked. Instead of frowns, they were faced with smiles. Children stopped crying when they saw the healer's incomplete beak and started to spare them a smile. The elderly stopped refusing treatment from them. And even though they still had to face a seemingly unclimbable wall as they began further studies in medicine, biology and microbiology, chemistry, agricultural sciences, magical studies, anything to broaden their knowledge and help, they made it. (No thanks to the shy, awkward, standoffish and straight up rude engineering-chemistry-physics student which whom the king and queen pushed Kraz to hang out with. They said that it would "help the both of you, you kids would work beautifully together". Not that the mage minded, as a matter of fact they quite enjoyed his presence and always did their best to be agreeable and overall lovely company; but the skeleton never quite seemed to get over his absolute loathing of humans. Oh well, no matter. They'll keep trying anyways.). Eventually they did succeed and ascended to the position of "tolerable fellow student who I regularly hang out with" in the eyes of their adversary. When Kraz got their first doctorate, in medicine, WingDings even cracked a smile. And as the two completed their studies, the now mage-doctor was promoted to "acceptable collaborator". A win for the ages!

Kraz finally moved out of the derelict place they were practicing medicine in since the war to a more acceptable place (which was, well, their newly furnished house, courtesy of the royal family for their friendship and as a congratulatory gift for their doctorate) and kept working as always. But with an official title to strengthen their position, and what some may call a reluctant friend, things seemed lighter. Monsters were flocking to their office, business (which was still free but their patients insisted on leaving little somethings) was booming, their ties to their fellow "collaborator " deepening, and the doctor became sincerely appreciated in their community. Maybe not in all monsterdom yet, memories of the war never quite fading, but it was progress. Things were going well.

But it seemed that fate had other plans.

One day, plague broke out. The illness decimated monster populations, entire families perishing from an unknown condition.

And Kraz, oh Kraz, tried everything. Every spell, every potion, every cure they could think of. Nothing worked. They asked for help to the other healers, consulted with other scientists, even asked the engineers if they could think of something, anything. Nothing worked. They could only watch as the malady swept through monsters, powerless to watch them die, just like they did during the war.

No. No.

They would not stand for it, they would not STAND FOR THIS !! They will find a cure. At any cost.

They locked themselves in their laboratory.

One day. Two days.

Three days.

Six days.

Eight days.

Their colleagues had tried banging on the door, shouting at them to come out, to go home, they would not answer. They called for the doctor’s friends, to no avail. Eventually, it was WingDings Gaster, the royal scientist himself, to be at their door threatening them to “kick their feathery ass if it’s the last thing he does” in order to get them to open the damn door.

No answer.

But the royal scientist was a stubborn man. And when words failed, he proceeded to take the door’s security system apart and barge into the lab, only to be taken aback by the stench. He covered his non-existent nose with a sleeve and bit back the urge to let last night’s dinner see the light of day again, ushering the doctor’s worried coworkers away. It reeked of illness. It reeked of plague. The skeleton, being the only one without lungs and hence immune to all airborne diseases, made his way through the mess of papers, vials and…patches of blood and hair…to the form bent over his friend’s table. Kraz was staring straight at him with their big, beady dark eyes which seemed to be glazed over. They looked even paler than they usually do, which is to say whiter than snow, and seemed so frail that they could snap at any moment. Their face was also swimming in what seemed to be bloodied spit, over a mountain of papers scribbled with words that made no sense. Suffice to say, they looked like death itself. They looked dead.

It was as if Gaster’s bones were made of ice. Barely thinking, he grabbed his friend’s limp body, by Asgore were they TALL, and zapped away somewhere safe. Somewhere clean. His place, apparently.

He cleaned Kraz. Changed them. Laid them in bed. Listened to their delirious babbles, relieved that at least they were alive. In a moment of clarity, the doctor pleaded him to retrieve some instruments from their lab and conduct a series of tests on samples of their blood, which he was urged to collect daily.

“I need to help them Dings. Please. Please, I beg of you, do this for them. Or else I would have done this for nothing. Please.”

Eventually, the unthinkable happened. They got better, the little colour their cheeks normally had returned. As soon as the healer could walk again, they were out of their friend’s house and back in their lab (ignoring everyone’s admonishments). Barely a week later, there was a cure for the seemingly incurable plague.

Monsterkind was saved.

And everything was truly fine. Kraz was promoted to Royal Doctor (a fact they endlessly teased Gaster with, because Now you can’t boss me around anymore mister science man), was granted a whole department in the Hotland labs, and was now revered though the kingdom! Their promotion to head doctor was also accompanied by another, to the exclusive rank of “beloved special stupid idiot who gave themselves the plague” in the soul of a certain someone. They weren’t going to live that one down anytime soon. But well, when the royal scientist’s coworkers noticed that his lunch was packed daily in the common room fridge with “Do not forget nourishment today dear, I will see you tonight at our usual, -A stupid idiot “stuck to it, let’s say that the air in the Core labs was decidedly more pleasant. And Alphys, a young intern that the Doctor befriended during one of their numerous visits to their collaborator-friend-lover(?),  could barely contain her gushing to anyone that might listen.

Yes. Times were good.

Until a human fell.

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE