#IVE LOST IT. I EVEN HAVE HER HORN MAGIC PLANNED OUT

[emomomortal]

i caved into the voices i turned her into a pony

ALSO OTHER SARI DOODLES LOL. LOTS OF SARI S THIS IS A SARI POST!!!!

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

---------------

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

------------------------------------------

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

---------------

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

*

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[stillness-in-green]

Changeling: The League (2/3)

Being the next installment of my deeply nerdy spur-of-the-moment decision to do up a bunch of My Hero Academia villains as Changeling: The Lost characters.  For some introductory info and the League of Villains, check this post.  Or hit the jump for the Meta Liberation Army!  

THE METAHUMAN LIBERATION ARMY

Considerably reduced from what they are in canon (I don’t think there are 116,000 changelings in Japan, much less that many changeling dissidents!), the leaders of the MLA are instead a band of secret loyalists for the Keeper called Destro, who have spent a great many years preparing for a chance to bring him to the real world in full glory, unhindered by time limits or reduced powers.  The requirements are many and arcane, with a huge number of ways things could fall to disarray.  Thus they find to their great alarm that their prophecies are suddenly skewing when the truth of Shigaraki’s durance/Keeper comes out--there are two “heirs,” it seems, and fate is swirling, and it will only settle over one of them in the end.  

The group has its fingers in some of the more obscure fluff-book magic--fate-crafting, oracular dreams and the like--and collectively share a massively decked-out Hollow.

Re-Destro

Quote: “Everyone has a purpose to serve.”

Type: Gargantuan Ogre/Treasured Fairest dual kith.  The incarnation of Destro’s will.  Born in Faerie, he spent his early years being instructed (and molded) always--stand up straight, speak more clearly, be stronger, be better, you are the one who will herald me.  Re-Destro was delivered out of the Hedge at seven years old clutching a squall knife as long as his arm, his mind filled with the knowledge that he was the one who would see Destro ushered into the real world.  He was welcomed, open-armed, by those changelings who had been sent before.  He has spent over thirty years in the real world since then, scrupulously maintaining a startlingly high Clarity, but Destro whispers in his dreams more nights than not, and Rikiya (as he was named, though he has a true name his mother whispered against his head as an infant, now long forgotten) has always had the nagging feeling that the mundane Earth is not his true home.  

A tall, stiff-shouldered man in his Mask, Rikiya looks much as he does in canon, though without the stress spots on his forehead and with a nose that’s merely prominent, rather than a cartoonishly huge beak.  He’s quite tall and can go from mildly unassuming to toweringly imposing on a dime.  In mien, his hair goes more coppery and his skin becomes unblemished marble, the palest shade of jade in color, tinging ever so slightly darker around his joints.  His nose returns to its canonically proper glory, and the places where his hairline recedes in his mask are revealed to be making room for a pair of broad, curving horns, emerald green at the tips.  He’s unusually clean-hewn for an Ogre, not handsome, per se, but undeniably striking.  When he uses his kith blessing, he grows to profound sizes (shredding even the most cleverly crafted Hedgespun), easily as tall as a two storey building.  Naturally, he tries not to do that kind of thing around mortal witnesses.

Rikiya’s Wyrd is getting quite high (it was high even as a child, as might reasonably be predicted), so particularly sensitive or addled humans will sometimes see or experience fragments of his true form--his unyielding skin, a brief glimpse of the shadow of his horns, the echoing weight of his footsteps on stone floors.  His potent Wyrd and his affinity with the home of the Gentry means that his magic sometimes leaks into objects he keeps on his person for too long--it’s an issue he’s aware of, and practically speaking, it mostly means that he never wears anything more than a day in a row.  He has a staggering variety of suits and ties.  

Court/Mantle: Courtless.  With high-ranking friends in a sprawling freehold overseen by Directional Courts, Rikiya makes rounds in all of them.  He’s a deft hand with Hedgespun and his works are in high demand at even the most discerning changeling markets.  His home is in the center--close to the epicenter, in fact.

Contracts: Barbarically focused, though he uses both of his contracts sparingly.  His experience has gone more into his, shall we say, inherent magic.  

        Vainglory I-V.  Even when playing the role of a popular but unranked freehold member, or a canny designer of mundane accessories, Re-Destro has never forgotten who and what he is, and when he’s using these Contracts, that comes out with psyche-bruising force.  His higher-tier invocations tend to cause his colors to mottle somewhat, infusing to darker shades of green around his face--the hollows of his eyes particularly--and extremities.  

        Stone I-V.  Unbelievably strong whenever he needs to be.  He tries to avoid combat or let his underlings handle it when he can--he has very few problems maintaining his Clarity, but causing harm to others is a surefire way to disturb it--but when he does break these out, he’s as difficult to put down as a berserker.  Tends to take relaxing vacations after any occasion where he’s had to really work this. 

Curious 

Quote: ”You’ve got the look of someone with a story to tell.  I want to hear all about it.”

Type: Cleareyes Beast.  Once upon a time, she was a journalist with a nose for a story--well, she’s a journalist still, with a nose like you wouldn’t believe.  Talented and quick-witted, both traits won her attention from Destro’s “recruiters,” but it was her tenaciousness that finally saw her brought in from the snow and the hunts, a semblance of a human form returned to her, and the bright ambrosia of purpose poured down her throat.  Delivered to Re-Destro when he was in his 20s, Chitose is a hunter and a dream-spinner, a trickster with a deft and ruthless touch for talecrafting.  She remembers the headiness of blood on her tongue, and she can always smell a bleeding heart.  

A fox changeling, though given her bent of viciousness and her unusual coloring, you could be forgiven for thinking her a kumiho or a particularly wicked kitsune.  In mien, she has long, thick white hair and a pair of white tails (three in the dreamscape), tipped in black like stained ink brushes, that match her long, tufted ears.  Her whole body’s covered in a fine layer of silken fur; she’s got a lupine lengthiness to her features and sharp teeth in her smile.  In her mask, her hair’s rich and dark and she seems to have a perpetual healthy glow to her skin, tipping into a noticeably high, intemperate flush when her passions are aroused.  A beauty in either form, she has thin, seemingly delicate wrists and ankles, but moves with a quick, decisive grace.  Her eyes are blue with just a hint of the green they used to be, the color standing out sharply from the ring of her black eyelashes.  

Court/Mantle: The South, seat of ecstasy.  Chitose remembers the purity of her emotions in Faerie, remembers heights of euphoria and shocks of terror that stole her breath away, but out in the real world, she feels muted and muffled, never quite fulfilled, as if she’s always groping for an outstretched hand that’s just out of reach.  The Court of Song gets her closest to that reckless, all-pervading sensation, and so she throws herself headlong into its giddy pursuit of obsession.  Her mantle wraps her in a sensual warmth and, when she’s particularly worked up, wisps of thin white smoke scented like heady incense or burning sugar.  Every so often, when her eyes catch the light in a dark room, they reflect red instead of green.

Contracts: 

        Den I-III.  She considers herself to have every right to be wherever she finds herself and is not about to let a home security system stop her when she’s chasing any sort of rabbit.

        Dream I-IV.  Whether she’s digging for a story or pushing a narrative, dreams are fruitful ground with a multiplicity of uses, none of which she’s squeamish about implementing.  Curious is a terror, asleep or awake.  

        Omen I-III.  While she’s not much interested in fortune-telling as a method for long-term strategic planning (you want Skeptic for that), she does absolutely have a use for powers that give her visions of someone’s worst memory or upcoming major life events.  

Skeptic

Quote: “Do you have any idea what kind of shitstorm we have coming down on us?  What?  You can’t see the future?  I guess that means you should shut the hell up and stop distracting those of us who have something useful to contribute then, doesn’t it?!”

Type: Oracle Wizened.  Destro knew that his followers would need someone who could properly interpret signs and portents, so set his recruiters to finding someone with an eye for secret signs, a knack for the languages of symbolism and metaphor.  Most of them brought back psychics or sensitive children, but one particularly old recruiter, for whom “computers” were a new and strange novelty, brought back Tomoyasu.  An electronics whiz-kid from a young age, Tomoyasu was in high school at the time, but already doing college prep.  He was driven and competitive but, crucially, willing to explain things to people who didn’t understand them.  In Faerie, his eyes were opened (forcibly, sometimes with clamps) to a great many more languages and codes, and his competitive personality honed to a vicious edge because you did not want to be a failure, not at any cost.  

Now that he’s been sent back to the real world, Skeptic has a presence in many realms.  He’s still quite good with computers, of course, but there’s the much more important work of Destro that needs to be done, and that involves both tasks for now and plans laid for later.  As such, he maintains dream pledges with a number of psychics (mostly fresh ones, though there are a few shattered survivors from amongst his rivals for his current position).  Unlike Curious, he isn’t interested in digging in their dreams or using them as staging grounds for larger projects; he only needs them to help him fill in his understanding of the future.  He and Re-Destro do a great measure of the work in maintaining the group Hollow.  

Rail-thin and gangly, Skeptic stalks about his environment with a constant sense of bloody-minded productivity.  He’s rarely without a laptop or tablet tucked in one arm and wears exclusively black, which just adds to the impression of being The World’s Gothiest Scarecrow.  His eyes are always hidden, behind his long bangs, razor-thin sunglasses, or--on more formal Court occasions--a broad silk blindfold, but glimpses of them are always alarmingly bloodshot.  In mien, his hands and arms are dotted with tattoos and scarification, faerie glyphs and sigils, and his eyes are filmed with blood.  He may not actually have eyelids--certainly no one has ever seen him blink.  Usually has a sword or the emblem of one on his person somewhere--a custom of his Court, because the heavens know he’s no swordfighter.

Court/Mantle: The West, seat of honor.  Very much a means to an end.  Skeptic has little interest in martialtry, but the needs of Destro demand that someone do it, and his obsessive perfectionism and rigidly high standards for himself make him the best fit--and anyway, the Court of War does need strategists.  He’s learned how to handle weapons in a perfunctory sort of way, but he’s a much better shot with a rifle than one would expect from the state of his eyes, especially if he’s got some time to spend fidgeting with one for a little bit before he has to fire it.  His mantle is relatively low, compared to most of his motley-mates, and manifests as a penetrating chill to the air and a slightly sharper tang of blood-smell than just his red-rimmed eyes can explain.  

Contracts: 

        Animation I-V.  You don’t have to waste time learning how to operate anything if the object itself will tell you how to use it, and you don’t have to stand around waving a sword at people when you can have the sword wield itself.  “Inanimate” nothing; as a rule, he likes objects better than people.  

        Artifice I.  Object touchy because it’s busted?  Nothing a bit of magic can’t fix (at least for long enough to get the job done.

        Hours I-IV.  The result of Skeptic’s understanding of objects crashing together with his oracular abilities.  The time magic he can work on inanimate objects is very useful (and yes, the way Shigaraki warps the first clause of this drives him absolutely mad), but the real miracle is what the ability to control time dilation in the Hedge does for his and his motley’s productivity.

Trumpet

Quote:  “I’m sure we’ll succeed.  After all, we’re the ones he chose.” 

Type: Fairest Muse.  The only member of the MLA motley proper that has any ambivalent feelings about The Destro Revival Festival.  He’s about Re-Destro’s age, but was kidnapped at a much less tender age than the rest, well into his adulthood.  He was an up-and-coming civil servant at the time, then spent longer than he can remember in Faerie, rallying crowds and practicing speeches until his throat bled and cracked into silence, learning to channel some portion of Destro’s white-hot conviction and magnetic presence, for all that being vessel to those traits felt like it burned the soul out of him.  Hanabata was charismatic and persuasive while he went in and his time in Faerie amplified those traits beyond belief, but he isn’t so broken as to believe that Destro did him some kind of favor.  

He is, however, quite broken enough to believe that Destro is undefeatable and that he has no real choices in the matter.  He was returned barely a week after he was taken in real-Earth time, dropped on Re-Destro’s lap when the latter was just getting started in establishing himself.  He’s spent the twenty years since then doing whatever needs to be done in order to smooth Re-Destro’s path (he’s unusually prominent in human politics for a changeling; indeed, he’s amassed some fairly significant temporal authority) and watching the rest of his ordained motley grow up.  They’re really the only people keeping him going; Hanabata thinks they’re far more damaged than he, and in many ways he’s right--he has a much clearer grasp on what they’ve all lost, even if some of them never had it to begin with--but he’s also very badly hurt in his own way, lacking even the devoted fervor of the cause to fill up the empty spaces left in what used to be his optimism.  

His mask looks like the Trumpet of the canon, minus the ever-present sense of pomade and the facial hair that can’t decide if it wants to be a mustache or not; he’s just clean-shaven.  He has a wry, expressive mouth and a nearly hypnotic voice, a baritone by turns soothing or rolling.  There’s an indefinable sense of presence to him; just looking at him makes brave people want to strike up a conversation and timid people lurk about in vague hopes of leeching up some of his confident vibes. His mien just amplifies it; he’s impossibly magnetic, with strong features and eyes the kind of green you could get lost in.  His voice is even more of a marvel here, resonant and penetrating in ways humans couldn’t typically manage without augmentation.  When out in public, he wears a camera-ready smile as faithfully as a wedding band; in private, he’s markedly more subdued.   

Court/Mantle: The East, seat of envy.  Trumpet’s talents make him marvelously well-suited for this Court, but it isn’t just a matter of practicality, as the Court of the West is for Skeptic.  No, Trumpet is intimately familiar with the thumbscrew feeling of envy--no free changeling can even begin to grasp how bitterly he covets their ignorance.  His mantle can be difficult to pick apart from the gripping presence of his seeming, but when he’s working magic, it’s frequently accompanied by the bizarre sense to onlookers that he’s taller than he really is.  Even if someone is standing right next to him and knows perfectly well that they’re taller than him, sometimes they’ll blink and their eyes will lie, vision inverting such that Trumpet seems to be looking down at them.  Every so often, when he’s on a roll, his eyes will gleam the perfect yellow-white of the sun reflecting on newly-minted coins.   

Contracts: 

        Vainglory I-III.  Not as advanced in his understanding of this Contract as Re-Destro, but the effect is considerably more potent when he’s using it.  

        Hearth I-V.  As engrossing as it is to listen to him talk, Trumpet’s real talent is in inspiring others, and the Contracts of fair and foul fortune just amplify that.   

        Fleeting Spring I and Fleeting Autumn I.  First levels of the seasonal contracts don’t require Seasonal Court goodwill, but he’d probably get it from any Spring Court in the country anyway.  Envy is close cousins with Desire, after all.  Whichever the case, manipulating people is easier when you know both what they want and what they fear.

Geten

Quote: “Ice is never far away.  Prepare yourself.”  

Type: Snowskin Elemental.  Geten remembers little of their time before Faerie--in fact, they have very little recollection of the passage of any of the time that must have brought them to their current age.  Their memory is like one huge block of ice, solid from wall to wall with cold and scarcity.  If some of that scarcity, back at the very beginning, is colored in a different palette than Destro’s winter, well, it’s still of a piece with the rest, so what does it matter?  All of their life was the winter--until Re-Destro appeared and chose them.  Out in the real world, Geten knows, intellectually, about the whole “herald of Destro” thing and devotes themself to the cause with admirable fervor, but in truth, that fervor is far more dedicated to Re-Destro than it is their True Fae Keeper, of whom Geten recalls next to nothing.  Generally serious and driven, Geten enjoys feeling that their actions have meaning beyond just keeping them alive, so they’re never happier than when they’re fighting for Re-Destro in concrete, measurable ways.  Generally poorly socialized in ways that would make their life much more difficult if they didn’t have Rikiya looking out for them.  

In mask, Geten is a slight youth with shoulder-length, white-blonde hair and unusual pale gray eyes.  They have a delicate-looking face that’s incongruous with their rather feral personality.  In mein, their hair is fully white, as are the glowing pupils of their eyes.  Their already fair skin goes bloodlessly pale, and even on the hottest day, their features are kissed with a rime of frost.  They wear long sleeved, full-length clothes at all times of the year, though curiously, they dress more heavily in summer than in winter.  

Court/Mantle: The North, seat of suffering.  Something of an unusual case in their freehold, where the power of the Directional Courts holds sway, Geten emerged from the Hedge with a strong Winter mantle.  No matter that they’re sworn to the Armor Court, that raw affinity to the Court of Sorrow remains.  This odd duality, seen by some as untrustworthy, has largely kept them from advancing very far despite their apparent dedication to the Stupa’s focused, ascetic lifestyle.  They’re frequently mistaken for being courtless, particularly in a freehold that’s less familiar with the look of the Silent Arrow than those who move in Seasonal Court circles would be.  The lack of any obvious sign of a mantle is itself the tell--Winter always makes its changelings look more stark, as if somehow etched more clearly into the fabric of the world, unobscured by other connections.  Likewise, their magic is all ice-themed anyway, so many don’t realize that the brief gusts of snow around them are a sign of their mantle--but every so often, there will be a brush of pale ash on those winds, a sign that, for all that Winter lives in their bones, Geten has still embraced the North.  

Contracts: These speak for themselves.  Geten’s power set, more than anyone in these posts, hews closely to canon!Geten’s quirk meta-ability.  

        Elements (Ice) I-IV.  Exacts control over ice.  They’re protected from it, they’re protected by it, they control it, and it answers their call (though their range is not anywhere close to canon!Geten’s).   

        Communion (Ice) I-III.  Very unlike canon!Geten, the changeling version is ice-born enough that they speak with it like kin.  Ice isn’t much of a gossiper, as elements go, but it reflects things, sometimes, and knows the shape of everything it touches.  They can extend this awareness as far out as a mile in most weather, though the range is much shorter in e.g. a blizzard, when trying to take in that much information would be overwhelming.  

        Eternal Winter I-III.  Don’t have ice?  Make your own!  Again, not as wide-ranging as canon!Geten’s, but serves much the same purpose.  Geten can also, like Spinner, perform emergency thermostat duties, though Spinner’s control over heat allows him to turn it up or expel it, while Geten’s is only ever going to make things colder.

BONUS TIDBITS: 

Changeling!Re-Destro needs to be able to get around in the human world without being prone to fits of hallucination and delirium, and his magic isn't dependent on his stress levels, so unlike his canon self, he gets to have actual vacation time, do soothing yoga, etc.

Geten and Curious had some durance overlap, but neither of them remember it clearly.  Curious’s memories of that time are too patchy, while Geten’s are too hard to pare down into individual moments.  Geten does feel a sense of familiarity towards Curious, but they don’t talk about it much after the one time they described it as being, “Like she was...inside me, for a while,” and everyone looked really weirded out.  

Changeling!Geten is nonbinary because It’s My AU And I’ll Do What I Want.  They are made of ice and do not really understand what the deal is with gender.

Magne doesn’t die in this AU because It’s My AU And I’ll Do What I Want.  She and Curious have to team up to brainstorm a strategy for an epic oneiromachy duel with Destro that will decisively eject him from Rikiya’s dreams without reducing Rikiya to a drooling husk.    

Trumpet is the true wild card in this AU.  The other Destro-ites have never really even considered the prospect of breaking free from Destro; Trumpet has, but rather than that making him the person who’s the easiest to sway, it makes him the person most resolutely convinced that betraying Destro will lead only to suffering.  The lengths that conviction will drive him to make him a severe danger to his motley the moment they begin considering abandoning their mission.

[s-ephiroth]

Sefikura Week [Day 6]

Theme for today was Meeting In Another World, so crossovers it is. A lot of them because I couldn’t pick just one, whoops. I hope it’s enjoyable ( o v o)b

[On AO3] || [Ko-fi]

I.

Cloud woke up somewhere he didn’t know.

Not that he recalled much aside from his own name, but the place definitely felt unfamiliar to him. A man in blue armor with a horned helmet helped him up, instructed him on the ways of the new world, took him to others who came from many other different worlds; dressed strangely to him and just as memoryless as he was.

They had all been summoned to fight for two opposing gods, the cause for their memory loss left unexplained. Simple pawns in a giant chessboard.

And then, on the peak of the conflict, Cloud met him again.

He appeared in a flurry of black feathers, leather and silver hair and Cloud just… knew. He suddenly had memories of fire, of death and conflict, fighting for his life, breaking down under that man’s touch like a porcelain doll that shouldn’t be alive, should never have been brought into life again afterwards.

(Cloud wondered if his enemy had memories of him as well.)

“Sephiroth,” he said, a name uttered with a blanket of complicated emotions covering it.

“Hn. So you remember,” Sephiroth replied, apparently undisturbed by any of it.

Cloud wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.

II.

He found himself in the strangest of the places, a big room with a weird apparatus in the center. Somewhere that wasn’t home, with three people dressed in a strange manner.

Sephiroth wasn’t there.

Regardless of it, Cloud could feel him, poking inside of his head and calling him to a place he couldn’t go to; the heart of a Planet he apparently wasn’t even on. He felt his fingertips tingle with the very impossibility of Reunion.

“The heat!” He shouted in pain. “Inside my head... No, stop... Sephiroth— no!"

Either come here or stop calling me to you.

Someone was saying something about him being unstable, but Cloud couldn’t focus. He had to leave, had to go somewhere, anywhere, where he couldn’t be reached by Sephiroth’s powerful influence over him or else, those people, those strangers… they could be in serious danger rather soon.

In that world, he eventually found out, there was a flower girl too. She was just like his friend, but she couldn’t recognize him.

III.

Leon told him, once Cloud had the courage to tell him his own story, that he was an idiot for engaging in such a quest.

Cloud’s wing twitched but he said nothing to that accusation, for two things: One, it sounded a weird plan even to him and two, he was mostly sure that it’d work, that he’d be able to get some answers while also solving a big problem.

It was an idea he’d been unable to shake off his head even since he started remembered the occurrences from other worlds, other times, with perfect clarity. It was part of why he’d sealed a pact with Hades, hoping that it’d pull Sephiroth out of hiding and into fighting him so they could deal with their long lasting personal issues for once and all.

Only when he felt the Masamune's blade resting dangerously against his throat and soft feathers brushing against his arm as Sephiroth dragged him away, — in front of his friends, nonetheless — he realized how wrong he’d been about that.

IV.

Cloud would have laughed, if only he wasn’t in pain and lacking that much control over his own body.

I was thinking about fighting you, not about ending up in a bondage session.

He knew Sephiroth could hear his thoughts through their connection, knew the man was grinning when he touched his face gently, getting closer to him to whisper something against his ear. It provided Cloud a strange feeling to be distracted with as he kneeled there, useless in his bonds of swirling dark clouds.

Cloud was starting to grow tired of that kind of encounter, which ended with him being stolen away from his companions and to somewhere else within the time it took someone to blink.

“Now, would you care to tell me why you keep ending up in other worlds?” Sephiroth asked in a mocking tone. “Do you think it’ll stop me from tracking you down? Hn, puppet?”

“Not your puppet,” Cloud said, as he managed to react to that, unsure if it’d been out of his own will or because he was given permission to do so.

“Keep saying that, while I pull your strings.” There was that laugh again, echoing as Cloud’s will was taken into full control again, in recognition that there would be no answer to that question anyway.

Oh, well. Sephiroth would find other uses for him.

V.

When that kid — no matter if he had told him he was a… what was that he called his job again? A record keeper? Cloud still considered him a kid, anyway — approached their group again to inform them that they’d be going in a special painting to retrieve some things and a couple adventurers, Cloud thought nothing strange about it.

Surely, the magic painting acting as a portal of sorts was one that depicted his world and of course he was looking forward to seeing old companions who had traveled with him in his journey, who shared precious memories with him. But still, he didn’t think all that much of it, constantly afraid something would definitely happen if he celebrated a little too much.

He watched as the others celebrated Tifa’s arrival in that way he was avoiding to, waving his simple “hello” at her, still unsure if it was a good thing that they had been taken away from their original conflict to fight another. (Again, as he could recall it.) She’d thrown herself at him for a hug, happy to have a friend she knew in that strange situation.

The Black Mage who had been traveling with them decided to head back to the Royal Archives — the headquarters they all ended up at after exiting such paintings — so they could carry on. It wasn’t safe to travel in groups with more than five people, he’d learned.

They faced an enemy only those with magic could reach and Rufus. He didn’t remember his original fight against the Shinra heir feeling so difficult as that one did. Thankfully, it was the last battle to deal with inside the painting.

After the dust of the conflict settled down, mako green eyes met his.

Oh no, not here, not again.

“Hello, Cloud.”

Cloud turned on his heel and walked away.

VI.

“Our goals no longer differ,” Sephiroth said from somewhere behind him and it felt as though the man was closer to him than he really was, “After all this time I thought it wouldn’t happen.”

Cloud didn’t turn to look at him, staring at the town from a privileged spot atop the Archives. He heard a sound break the silence, a rustling of clothing and something metallic against what he supposed was Sephiroth’s belt.

He had appeared without the Masamune and despite the kid and the moogle’s efforts, it hadn’t been retrieved. They gave him a little dagger just so Sephiroth could fight, which Cloud found more than simply amusing. Sephiroth’s expression of disgust mixed with gratitude would be forever engraved in his mind; something to laugh about whenever the times grew too dire.

“So you remember, too? The other worlds?”

“I do.” Sephiroth’s voice sounded even closer, then. “That wing looked rather good on you.”

“I still don’t get why it keeps happening,” Cloud said, choosing to ignore that… thing Sephiroth had for wings, just so things wouldn’t get more awkward than they already were, “This uh, thing, in which we keep popping up anywhere except back home.”

Sephiroth sat beside him with a quiet hum, causing Cloud to finally turn to look at him; a question bothering him, no matter how silly it seemed.

“You lost a bet or something?”

He turned his gaze away as Sephiroth chuckled warmly, gave a negative reply to his inquiry and chuckled some more. A leather clad hand took Cloud’s own, squeezing it just gently. He felt his nemesis — now an ally due to the circumstances of that world — move a little closer to him, leaning in to whisper something.

“If I had lost a bet, I think I’d have ended up on your bed, naked. And we wouldn’t fight because you’d just accept it at this point, wouldn’t you?”

“Or... I’d push you out of my bed, for all the shit you pulled on me,” Cloud shot back, biting on his lip to keep the effect of Sephiroth’s breath near his ear well hidden.

“You’re too good to do that to anyone, Cloud.”

His teeth grazed Cloud’s ear, stealing with it a bit of composure.

“Y-you’re an asshole.”

“Maybe. Now, let’s just enjoy this truce a little, shall we?”

Cloud had a feeling that he’d wake up somewhere he wouldn’t remember getting to, again.

[randomliven]

Warning extra long post

COMPLETE EPISODE SPOILER

Ep3. Holy Ghost

My fav ep

Edit: adding rewatch x2

*Opening at Uncs funeral. Leti is just numb.

*1955

*3people broke in

*white people always watching

*Leti owe Ruby money

(Tho leti didnt tell Ruby where the money came from, in ep 1 she said she wanted a house for them)

*our house

* riot after negro couple moves in

13rooms. Safe haven

*Im about to apply to marshal fields again, i need to perfect my resume

* Could be a chance for us to bond as sister

* im taking the biggest room

*Has an elevator

*Almost decapitates her

*Hyp starts to rip uncs fav book

Just numb

*Dee almost sets up her dads place mat

*Hyp flips the 2nd cup back down like unc did

*Its been weeks

*Tic Checks on drunk daddy

*He sees the count book next to moms pic

* tic "I got ya kid" throws water on montrose face.

Ive heard about it so much, i even dreamed i was there with you.

LOOK AT MONTROSE FACE

Unc always told the story of the mysterious stranger

(Tic did kno about the story) (tho rose never told the story, tic already knew it)

*yellow

Is rose just a drunk or does he drink for a reason

*They lied to hyp

*White folk got magic on they side Too

* hippolyta cant do shit

*Tic reacts to roses anger

*Colored elevator repair men are hard to find

*Baldwin

The lady in the room who says dance studio (she prob somebody)

*Moving in on a sunday while everyone at church

*hit the numbers

*Three weeks after uncs funeral

*Tic going back to florida

"Told my boss i i would be gone a couple days, that was a month ago"

(Tic DID HAVE a JOB)

*The white folk starts the horns (the three

*Police just pass by like they see nothing

(Sooo that shit didnt irritate the other white neighbors who had to also deal with it)

A whole nother day with the horns

Them hands. That face. Who ever did that application

*Black granny...

We fear them but they are warning us

*The boiler over heating

*Black folk dont go exploring thumps in the basement

*Bare traps. Bird cage. Anatomy doll

Leti brave as Fuc, watching that thing bump

*calls tic

I believe you but i say its the neighbors

(Panic room) cant hear anything. Theres also a drain.

Same tactics used in north korea.

Micheal "he go by Martin now"

He was dating. White woman, made him marry a colored one.

Ruby in red.. (Christina in red)

Black folk love to feed the depressed

Unc always left the cups down

Just being foolish

Black folk dont play with oojuie board

" will i have a good trip" "no"

George is dead

Hyp hears whispers from the oracial

Tree lies about being with leti

Tic being staying rent free

Bruh you was about to leave

"Is you or is you aint my baby"

Them nostrils flaring

"Jus wanted to feel something"

Lost her virginity during a party on the bathroom sink

Leti cries.

"If more colored folk thought like me"

Burning a cross in the yard

*Leti is Over It All

*Black men unite and protect

*Sirens

*Throws the bat

*Ruby knows to take the guns

*Cover leti

*Drop to they knees

*Lancaster takes leti

Got all these complaints from the neighbor

But none from leti. 21 times

*Lancaster starts to ask about what leti knows about the house, cuz he knows its background.

*Start throwing her around the car

We found the body parts of 8 nigg buried in the basement.

Leti puts the pieces together

White demon

Sees the connection

Installment contact

Still got some of the money mama left

Least mama didnt pretend

"Look out for leti first "

Thought you were a fuck up but really you were just qfucked up

Hyp got a womans intuition

Leti connects the dots

Tic like ok

Experimenting on humans

Lancaster kidnapping black folk for Epstein

(Love how they believed)

I needed to feel something

Monsters. Spells. Georges death. I died too.

Stake my claim in it

The white folk always watching

Black folk can use magic too

Protect yo house

Mama was a hustler who believed in during her research

White boys breaking in

White boys go into the room where the oracial was

Chanting in Creole

Fuc yo protection

Possession

Just EVERYTHING about the scene

YOU ARE NOT DEAD YET

Together we ARE STRONG

(JOURNEE did that)

Leti gives Ruby the recognition of inspiration

"Have you heard about your three neighbors who have went missing?"

The fresh bodies in the tunnel... Plenty bones

Does leti know or naw?

Tic seeing Xtina at the realtor..

Realizes tina is behind it all.

Tina looks kinda nervous

(I dont think she has the mark of caine yet)

Invulnerability.

The language of adam "ability to name"

(Did he plan to like shoot her for real)

Power play (opening the window)

Wanna kno more just call

[dw817-dailymotion]

dw817′s Dailymotion

Who am I ? I'm dw817 and I write imaginative books and stories and upload rare videos besides. For a summary and listing of all my current works, read on. To see what videos I have available for you, skip below:

FUTURE BARRIER My primary work. What happens when a teenage boy and girl come across a piece of technology from one-million years in the future ? A grand adventure: Future Technology, Unrequired Love, and Absolute Vengeance. A clear one for both teen and adult literature. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! Future Barrier 1st Book, 74-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 2nd Book, 71-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 3rd Book, 99-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 4th Book, underway, new chapter every Monday Future Barrier Character Synopsis, 8-chapters (complete !)

THE NANCY PRINCIPLE My secondary work. This is an interesting bit of writing. The first book is non-fiction so it recounts what actually happens when I was hired to work for the government in a room full only of WOMEN. Each teenage girl trying to outstink the others in their perfumes and outdo the others in their business outfits. And then I show up, a teenage boy really, and how they treated me there and WHO they hired to keep me in my place. A clear one for both teen and adult non-fiction literature. Later book is fictional as I grew rather fond of my female boss. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! The Nancy Principle 1st Book, 33-chapters (complete !) The Nancy Principle 2nd Book, 35-chapters (complete !)

STAR WARS - THE FORCE WITHIN Cleary a fan-fiction story of quite a few chapters. I address the issue of what happens between Episode IV (A New Hope) and Episode V (The Empire Strikes Back). I mean we're still on Yavin in the first Star Wars movie, then suddenly we are on the ice planet of Hoth with no interim video to explain - what happened ? This then is my interpretation of how our intrepid adventurers of Luke, Leia, and Han are forced to leave Yavin to Hoth - with quite a bit of deviltry from Darth Vader himself even though the Death Star has been destroyed. A clear one for teen literature. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! Star Wars - The Force Within, 28-chapters (complete !)

SOME ADDITIONAL MULTI-CHAPTERED WORKS Sometimes you just can't get enough of a good thing and have to write it out and share it with others in additional chapters and pages. Here are some other books I have written that do indeed contain multiple chapters for their subject matter. Read all chapters from all books ONLINE now ! Wit And Wisdom, Campfire Tales, Points To Ponder, Double Trouble, Saturday Matinee, The Concession Stand, The Theologian's Cafe, Zachary Smith - Ruler Of The Universe, The Dream Machine, Dream Diary, Gosh-A-Lotta Stamps, End Days, BLOG, Writer's Cafe Wizardry. More later !

WANT MORE ? Try out these other short-stories, writings, and articles I've written - all available to read ONLINE now ! I N D E X, PROSE AND COMMS OF RPGS, 50-Look And Look Again, Effective Forums [1] [2], You Think Your Luck Is Bad, Ninety Percent Off, When The Sky Caught Fire, Lost In Translation, Sea Monkey (Age restricted), My First Uploaded Google Play Application, Look On The Bright Side, Solar Eclipse (08-21-17), 45000 Hits, A Morse Of A Different Color, Reaching A Human Being At 2-1-1, What Do You Dream, Fresh Peaches For Donald Trump, A Halloween To Remember (Age restricted), Selling My First Videogame, Halloween 2017, Swim Ring Exercises, Why I Program, How To Fish (A Short Story About Helping Others), Building SRTs From DVDs, Personality Test, I Am INJT, Happy 4th Of July (2015), Happy New Year 2015, Merry Christmas 2014, Happy Birthday Advice, Leonard Nimoy Dies At 83, Dating Advice, Alien Rescue, My Happiest Memory, Kids Gallery Halloween, Teen Gallery Halloween, The Misunderstood Dragon, Hear Is To Your Health, The Blue Rose, The Paradox Of Turning Clocks, Tribute To Alice In Wonderland (Age restricted), The Price Of War, Why Is A Raven Like A Writing Desk, What Is A RPG, Anime - A Kaleidoscope Crash Course (Age restricted), Assholes R Us (Age restricted), Legends, The Fairy Lipstick, Outworld, The Power Of Doubt, Drowning In Ads, Access Denied, Online Blocking, Decisions Decisions, My Guardian, The Riddle Of Religion, I Hate Snow, The Prophet Of Profit, Service With A Smile, Why I ♥ Writer's Cafe, Little Escape Artist, Me From A To Z, Where Were You God. More later !

You are Earth visitor #

This super-rare and very family-friendly TV series features Juliet Mills as the Nanny who takes care of three children. And one has to wonder if all of the amazing things she is capable of. Is it truly magic as most people believe ? Or is it just love ?

Prudence has a nightmare with a monster named Wiblet, and Nanny helps her overcome her fears.

Butch is negatively influenced by a "hip" kid when the Professor misses another one of his activities.

A new girlfriend of the Professor thinks that Butch and Prudence are not grounded in reality and should be involved in her children's therapy group. Butch tests whether there is a tooth "elf" by not telling his father when he loses a tooth.

Hal gets a telescope for his birthday but Butch is the one who discovers a new comet.

Nanny suggests a family picnic on a lovely Spring day. The family members all have other ideas until their plans are mysteriously thwarted.

The Professor gives Nanny driving lessons as the pair prepare for a second household car.

Nanny and the children's rescue of some ducklings leads to trouble for Nanny.

Waldo finds a dinosaur bone and buries it in the yard. Nanny and the children's hunt for a rose bush eating gopher uncovers Waldo's treasure and results in a dig for more !

Nanny and the children stage a protest to stop the city from cutting down a favorite tree for a road expansion project.

Professor Everett receives a fabulous job offer from Astrodynamics, but it means moving to Astroville. The children don't want to leave their home, but put a brave face on for their father's sake.

The Professor is contacted out of the blue by an old college girlfriend and isn't sure he's ready to see her again.

Hal feels too much pressure to complete various projects and school work, with a big science competition being foremost, it's making him irritable and miserable. Nanny offers a good luck piece, that acts like a magic amulet that restores his confidence so much he no longer worries at all.

[ Willy McBean And His Magic Machine ]

Little Willy McBean joins up with a Mexican monkey named Pablo to travel back in time and stop the evil Prof. von Rotten from changing history.

[ Nosferatu ]

Vampire Count Orlok expresses interest in a new residence and real estate agent's wife. Enjoy this remastered edition of one of the oldest and creepiest silent horror films of all time. Nosferatu.

These aren't your seemingly average cute little girls. No, they each have a unique way of handling every day life's little problems by TRANSFORMING into new and amazing vehicles ! Please enjoy all 4-episodes of this rare and hard-to-find mini-series.

Mickey Mouse meets Mickey Mouse in this charming and animated classic tale of mistaken identity. It's your riches to rags story.

This spunky little gal from Nevada has vivid daydreams that teach her so very much about the world around her. In this episode, she imagines herself to be a dancing princess.

Everyone's favorite little daydreaming girl runs into an interesting situation where - something stinks. And we don't mean figuratively.

A marvelously done stop-motion animation featuring truly likeable characters with all their quirks and kinks. A lonely deaf taxidermist falls in love with a withdrawn and blind woman.

Done in the style of Scooby-Doo, this Hanna Barbera series features an animated Charlie Chan the amazing detective and his family of all ages which consist to assist.

Today's Chan episode is a mystery about baseball and a famous player for the game who has been kidnapped.

If you're looking for Hentai and Panchira, look no further. This very silly series has plenty of kinky panty-shots, ludicrous fan-service, and action and adventure besides. This pilot episode is entitled, "Beautiful Agent."

Agent Aika continues this kinky fan-service series with the episode, "Naked Mission."

Very funny and very British Angry Kid gets into all kinds of adventures in this live-action mini-movie which features some very clever stop-motion animation and over-the-top incidents between him and his devilishly intelligent little sister.

It's the classic cartoon of cat versus mouse except in this case it is the anteater versus the ant with some hilarious situations between the two.

Who will win ? The Tortoise or the Hare ? Find out in this amusing upgrade to the classic original tale.

Join now with four elite Galaxy Rangers with unique abilities defend law & order among the space colonies and protect humanity from the evil Crown Empire.

These are the amazing Herculoids. This animated series features Zok, a flying space dragon. Igoo, a rock ape. Tundro, a ten-legged four-horned rhinoceros. Gloop and Gleep, two protoplasmic creatures able to change shape. And finally the Herculoids family themselves, Zandor, the leader, Tara, his wife, and Dorno, their son.

Josie and her cartoon friends go on adventures that is out of this world. In this opening episode we find them landing on the planetoid Zelc and encounter a creature named Bleep. At the same time, Josie is kidnapped by an alien named Karnak, a deposed ruler who is intent on reconquering the populace of Zelc.

The Pussycats land on the planet Arcobia, where they try to help expose the corrupt Prime Minister Rulo as the true thief of a device that is very important to the planet.

A classic stop-motion animation film about your Forest Ranger's and Fire Fighter's favorite friend. It's Smokey Bear !

Three choice episodes linked together make-up this rare and interesting animated police series that takes place in futuristic Detroit where crime is dealt with by mechanical justice. It's ROBOCOP !

[ Daydreamer The Movie ]

An anthology of a combination of live-action and stop-motion animation fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen: "The Little Mermaid," "The Emperor's New Clothes," "Thumbelina," and "The Garden of Paradise."

This tells the classic tale of the hard working ants and the not so hard working grasshopper. The question is, who is ready to survive when old man Winter comes around ?

One of the first videos I've posted on Daily Motion so many years ago. I'm keeping it though because I hate to get rid of anything.

[patheticnugbaby]

Fugitive IV

Finally managed to get this done, I’ve been struggling with it for awhile.

I hope you like it.

“Nanin! Claricia!” Their heads snapped up at the sound of the keeper’s voice carrying down the train of aravels.

The two of them shared a nervous glance before scuttling up to the aravel she sat on, staff resting across her knees. The keeper smiled scooting to the edge of her seat and leaning down to speak.

“How go the lessons?” She asked.

Claricia gave Nanin a quick look, then glanced up at the keeper, “Me?”

“Both of you, though if you’d like to go first you may,” Keeper Ellas gave her a conspiratorial grin, large eyes glittering with a kind of playfulness that made her look much younger.

“Nanin has been a good teacher,” Claricia inclined her head a little before raising her bruised arm, “If a little more hands on than I expected.”

The keeper laughed loud enough to startle the halla, the animals tossed their heads nervously before the keeper managed to quiet her laughter, “How do you find your student, Nanin?”

“She learns quickly, Keeper, with time I’m sure she’ll be exceptional,” He smiled a little, tapping his staff on the ground, “will we have Lahalaan craft her a staff?”

“Do you think she needs one so soon, da’len?” The keeper’s ears pricked forward, head cocking a little, like a cat.

“I think that by the time he is finished crafting it for her she will be ready for it, Keeper,” Claricia blinked, narrowing her eyes at him, he sounded confident, though his ears twitched.

“I see,” The keeper nodded, leaning back up against the aravel, “I will consider your suggestion, Nanin, ma serannas.”

“Would it be rude of me to ask what ‘ma serannas’ means?” Claricia asked before she could stop herself, she cleared her throat a little to hide her embarrassment.

“Essentially it means ‘thank you’,” The keeper replied, only a hint of amusement on her face, “much of our language has been lost, but you are elf-blooded, would you like to learn it?”

“Oh! I’d be honored- I mean, if it’s not too much trouble,” Clarcia managed, flexing her fingers nervously.

“It’s no trouble, da’len, we can start when we stop,” The keeper gave her a reassuring smile, “that being said, we won’t stop until tomorrow evening. We plan on traveling through the night. You two should get something to eat and rest.”

“Are you sure, Keeper? I can-”

“Peace, Nanin. We are journeying to Dirthavaren and you will need your strength when we arrive,” The keeper paused, pursing her lips, “As will you, Claricia.”

“Why? What’s Dirthavaren?” She frowned, pressing her lips together in a thin line.

“Humans call it the Exalted Plains, and it has been a place of war and death for centuries, such-”

“Such places attract demons and thin the veil,” Claricia didn’t mean to interrupt, she cleared her throat a little, a blush creeping on her cheeks, “Er, how do I apologize in elven?”

“That would be ‘Ir abelas’ if it was needed, but you don’t need to apologize, da’len. It is good that you know these things,” The keeper replied with a wider smile, still gentle at the edges, “You may be in the most danger, da’len, spirits of the fade always flock to new mages and they will get worse as we near Dirthavaren. Be wary and be in control, both of you.”

She nodded solemnly, trying to ignore the slow seeping of fear in the core of her belly. She couldn’t help but suddenly remember the harsh illustrations in dusty tomes, detailing the hunts of valiant Templars of ages past, triumphant over demons and abominations alike. Now she vividly recalled how they looked, bodies twisted and morphed around the shape of the demon. The many eyes and winding horns of Pride, the heavy, gelatinous fire of Rage, the sharp, piercing legs of Fear corrupting a mage’s body, flesh rent and remade into a grotesque medley of man and spirit. She swallowed hard, nodding again, more firmly this time.

“Now, enough of that,” The keeper’s voice cut through her reverie, Claricia looked up at her, “Go to Filduine, she’ll give you something to eat, Claricia, see Athras for something for your feet. If they don’t hurt now they certainly will later. Nanin, tomorrow I’d like you to continue teaching her, is that acceptable?”

“Yes, Keeper,” Nanin bowed his head, “how long before we reach Dirthavaren?”

“Not tomorrow, though by the evening you should notice a change in the veil, and in your dreams that night, we should enter the Dirth by the day afterward.”

Claricia nodded before she followed Nanin back along the aravels. Her feet had started to ache, especially after the keeper mentioned that they would be.

“It frightens you,” He said simply, not meeting her eyes.

“What?” She frowned a little, hoping to hide the fact that she knew exactly what he meant.

“The idea that from now on, every day of your life, demons will come after you and seek to take your body away. That there are some places which are more dangerous for you simply because of who you are, some paths which normal people may walk with ease will be like walking along a mere thread,” His tone was cool, matter-of-fact, somehow that made it worse.

“Of course it does!” She snapped, baring her teeth, “Aren’t you afraid?”

“Not anymore,” His voice was steady, she felt herself believing him, “I know myself and I know the Beyond. I know that I won’t succumb to a demon’s wishes.”

Claricia scoffed, the fear in her stomach souring into something like anger, “Well you have the advantage of years of training. I don’t.”

“Something Clan Nathari is generously trying to fix,” He spat, a spark of anger flashing in his eyes, or maybe it was the moonlight, “The more afraid you are the easier prey you make. Do what you must but you cannot fear them, that is a weakness and if you’re going to live anything like a long life you cannot be weak.”

“Then teach me to be strong. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” She snarled, feeling the easy hum in her veins, roughly, she yanked it back into her control.

“Tell me, did you earn the strength of your body inside of a few days? Did you learn to swing a sword or use a shield after one lesson? I cannot teach you to be strong enough on your own inside of a few days!” He’d started waving his hands in wide arcs again, lips pulled back in a feline snarl.

“Then what should I do? Lie down and wait?” She rounded on him, blocking his path, ignoring the attention she was drawing from the elves, “To the Void with that! I’ll never give into a demon.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, something devious flashing in his copper eyes, “Good.”

Claricia balked, shock temporarily cooling her rage before it flared anew, “You bastard,” she hissed and shoved him, he stepped back a little, still grinning, “Fuck you.”

She stormed off, magic crackled off of her in prickly heat that shimmered. With a little effort, she reigned it in, boarding the aravel she woke up in without stopping to grab something to eat. Once inside she paced, hands balled into fists, jaw clenched as she ground her teeth. He manipulated her and it was easy. She snarled, throwing a punch into the empty air. She desperately wanted to feel something give under the strength of her fist. Nanin’s stupid smirk preferably.

She shook her hands out, willing some of the stiffness from them. It didn’t work. She wanted to clench them again, to hit something and feel the satisfying sound of delicate bones cracking under her fist, more than making up for the pain in her hand. Claricia shook her head, forcing herself to stop pacing, forcing her hands open at her sides. She closed her eyes, taking a long, slow breath through her nose. She still trembled under her skin, she held that breath before slowly letting it out.

“O Creator, see me kneel: For I walk only where You would bid me,” The words sounded bitter, angry in her mouth; she took another breath to steady herself, fingers twitching, “Stand only in places You have blessed. Sing only the words You place in my throat.”

Claricia allowed herself to breathe again, feeling the hard edges of her anger fade a little, replaced with the soft warmth of faith that warmed and pained her heart.

“My Maker, know my heart: Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride,” The verses sounded smoother now, spoken with the proper reverence, she cast her eyes to her bedroll which suddenly looked all too inviting, “My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within Your grace. Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. Tell me I have sung to Your approval.”

She paused in her recitations to undress, putting on the large, baggy shirt to cover herself before she crawled into the bedroll, closing her eyes.

“O Maker, hear my cry: Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory. And let the world once more see Your favor,” She more mouthed the words than spoke them but they still soothed her, the angry tangle in her chest loosened, it wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t so sharp as it was before, “For You are the fire at the heart of the world, and comfort is only Yours to give.”

It didn’t take her long to drift off, tired as she was. She barely remembered even falling asleep...

She felt... Awake, aware. Claricia cast her eyes about, finding herself in the chantry, the vague shapes of sisters and Templars moving just out of the corner of her eyes. She touched her chest, finding it covered with gleaming armor, the armor of the Templars. She smiled, warmth blooming in her chest.

She made it.

Ser Ardouin approached her, a smile on his worn face, “Claricia, how do you fare?”

“Well, Ser Knight,” She gave him an eager grin, “Ready.”

Something in the back of her mind asked her what exactly she was ready for but she dismissed it. It didn’t matter. She was home and they would not betray her.

“That’s a shame,” Something curled his lips, the grin of a snake before it eats, “because you are not worthy.”

She felt like something pierced her chest. She looked down, finding that her armor had suddenly lost all its shine, dull and cracked, faint light leaking from it. She passed her hand over the breastplate.

“No...” She blinked the tears from her eyes before she drew herself up, “I am more than worthy. I will be a Templar.”

“No, you won’t,” Ardouin’s smile curled into a syrupy mockery of comfort, metal-clothed hand resting on her shoulder, “The Maker has cursed you, denied you the honor of joining the Order, you are a mage and an elf-blooded mongrel that your parents left on our doorstep,” his voice hissed, each traitorous word planting a deep-seated cold in her heart that hurt, ��Try, try, and try, Claricia, you cannot ever be good enough to outlive the fact that your parents hated you enough to dump you in a tiny chantry on this frozen mountain, that on the day of your Vigil, the day you finally knew you were worth something, you’re suddenly a mage, an apostate, a traitor.”

Ser Ardouin circled her, his voice a vicious mockery of comfort.

“The Templars don’t want you, the Maker has cursed you, your parents didn’t want you. Did they know? When you were born did your mother look into your stupid, wailing face and know that something was wrong with you? Did they drop you at a chantry in the vain hope that the faithful could fix your wrongness?”

Claricia trembled, razor needles piercing her chest, her lungs. Every hole they left seemed to grow in her, leaving nothing but cold emptiness. She sobbed and sank to her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach like if she squeezed hard enough she could put herself back together.

“No,” She whispered, more a plea than a rebuke.

“No?” Ser Ardouin tilted his head, raising his eyebrows, “Do you not think that the day you were born the Maker spat on you, a mewling babe, never worthy of love?” He crouched down to her level, face compassionate yet twisted, “If not the Maker’s doing, then why are you so alone? Why have you never been loved? Not by your peers, your mentors, not even by your parents. If it’s not the Maker, then it must just be you, Claricia,” a hand firmly gripped her chin, tilting her head to look him in the eye, “You are what’s wrong.”

She woke with a gasp, shivering. Her skin almost ached with how cold she felt. She threw the blankets away, frantically rubbing her arms as she hurried to dress. Her eyes ached, her head pounded. She felt a crust at the corners of her eyes and she wiped it away with a grimace. Dimly, she was aware of her stomach rumbled, yet she didn’t want to eat. Claricia sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she shuffled out of the aravel, hopping out and closing the door quickly. Pain shot through her legs as her feet hit the ground and she hissed, hobbling back along the aravels to see if she could find Athras.

The sun had scarcely begun to light the sky, not even streaks of gray on the eastern horizon yet, just the slightest lighting at the edge of the sky. She frowned, scratching irritably at an itch on the back of her head. She spotted his wispy white hair and shuffled around the aravel, gritting her teeth against the deep hurt that made the bones of her feet feel like thick, cracking ice.

“Ser Halen?” She asked her voice heavy with sleep.

He turned to face her, a smile deepening the wrinkles on his face, “Da’len, you’re awake early.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Not used to the aravels yet,” She tried not to grumble but didn’t succeed, she yawned, the ache behind her eyes intensified, “Keeper Ellas said I should come to you if my feet troubled me.”

“Ah, yes,” He nodded a little, mostly to himself before he clambered up onto the aravel seat more nimbly than she thought he could move; he gestured for her to climb up, patting the seat next to him, “come up, da’len.”

Claricia grimaced before she managed to haul herself up on the aravel, her shoulders ached, like she slept on them wrong. She grumbled under her breath as she took a seat next to him.

“May I see your feet?” He asked, large, knobbly hands outstretched.

She nodded and swung one of her legs up for examination. He tugged the wraps away from her foot, baring angry blisters. He clicked his tongue softly and opened the clay jar, the air suddenly filled with a sharp, medicinal scent that made her wrinkle her nose. Carefully, he dabbed a little bit of the paste on the bottom of her foot. When his fingers touched a blister she hissed but held still. He finished quickly and bandaged her foot tightly, but not too tightly with thick strips of cloth. He did the same with her other foot, letting her tug the leggings back down over her heels.

“Ma serannas,” She didn’t quite mumble, blushing softly at the twitch of surprise on his face, “how often do I need to change the bandages?”

“Take them off before bed, da’len, fresh ones in the morning. Just see me when you wake, I do not sleep much, I’ll be awake,” He smiled, then gestured towards the front of the aravel, “Hahren Belavhan retired but Thalia should have something for you to eat. You went to sleep without food last night, are you alright?”

Claricia gave him a sharp nod, “Was just tired.”

He didn’t look convinced but he didn’t push, turning to put away the salve. She hopped off the aravel, pleased to find that the ache in her feet was nearly gone, only lingering in the joints of her toes. She jogged a little further up the aravel, ignoring the open glares from some of the elves that she passed. Her temples throbbed with a dull pain that seemed to leak from her eyes. Thalia turned to greet her as she approached, slinging her bag off her shoulder and pulling out a few strips of dried, smoked meat and a small hunk of cheese.

“What happened with Nanin yesterday?” Claricia glowered, pointedly taking a bite of the tough meat, “Nanin has only said that he provoked you and that he will attempt not to do so again.”

She snorted, “He did. He needed a result from me and had to poke me to get it. I don’t like it but I’m more angry at me than him now.”

“Why?”

“Because I let him manipulate me and it was easy for him,” Claricia grumbled rolling a shoulder to work some of the stiffness out, “I’ve always had a bit of a short temper, I’m sorry for disturbing the clan.”

To her surprise, Thalia laughed, loud enough to make the halla flinch. Claricia clicked her tongue on the back of her teeth with a little frown.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are, da’len,” Thalia chuckled, clapping her on the back, “such things happen, especially when you’re young. The only one who was ‘disturbed’ was Manhen because he bet me a lovely pair of gloves that you’d punch Nanin,” Thalia showed her the gloves, dark, supple leather, lined with what looked like fennec fur.

Claricia felt a little smile tugging at her lips through a headache, “He can be difficult but I understand. I don’t learn well enough, fast enough I will die, or worse. I could hurt people.”

“That can be said of anyone learning to swing a sword, or shoot a bow,” Thalia waved a hand dismissively, “if you never had the gift you would still be in that danger every day. The only thing which changes is where that danger comes from.”

“Maybe,” Claricia shrugged noncommittally, stifling a yawn, “is the Keeper awake?”

“She is. Shortly after you retired for the evening she and Isenama had a fight, not sure what about,” Thalia shrugged, “Isenama’s taken most of the hunters to replenish our supplies, they’ll catch up with us by the evening.”

“Ma serranas,” Claricia bowed her head a little and shuffled ahead, catching up to the keeper’s aravel, “Good morning, Keeper Ellas.”

The keeper gave her a tired smile and patted the wooden seat of the aravel, “Good morning, da’len, how were your dreams?”

Claricia grimaced, tearing off a chunk of the cheese, “Not good. Don’t remember much.”

“Be careful, da’len,” The keeper warned with a tight frown, “until you are stronger trust nothing in the Beyond. Assume anything you see is a trick or a lure.”

Claricia nodded tightly, “Thank you, Keeper.”

A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a gentle hug that made her chest ache, “I know it’s hard, da’len, you’re doing very well, especially considering what you’ve been through. I cannot promise that it’ll get any easier for you but I am here, even if you just need to talk.”

Claricia swallowed the tightness in her throat, blinking rapidly as she disentangled herself from the keeper, clearing her throat like it’d relieve the hollow pain nestled in the center of her chest. She wanted desperately to let the keeper comfort her, just for a little while.

You are not worthy... You are what’s wrong.

She took a deep breath and shoved those thoughts away, straightening her back and flexing her jaw, “Thank you, Keeper Ellas, but I’m alright.”

The keeper’s eyes creased, with worry or disbelief she wasn’t sure, “Ma nuvenin, da’len. Today I’d like you and Nanin to continue your lessons, don’t be afraid to bite back if he provokes you, that’s the only way he’ll learn, just expect the same treatment in turn.”

“I’ll keep my temper, Keeper,” Claricia smiled a little, finishing the last couple of bites of dried meat, “what should I do until he wakes?”

“Sit with me, enjoy the sunrise, ask me whatever you wish, da’len. You’ve woken early enough to enjoy a brief respite,” The keeper smiled a warmer smile, leaning her back against the aravel.

“I don’t think I have any questions at the moment, Keeper. Could I just share your company?” Claricia flexed her fingers nervously, tongue tapping on the back of her teeth.

“Of course, da’len, at least until Nanin finds you.”

Claricia giggled a little, leaning back against the aravel, raising a hand to shield her eyes against the light of the rising sun that peeked through the trees. The sun gleamed a brilliant orange, gold and pink staining the sky before it faded to dapples of clear blue, what little she could see through the heavy boughs of the fir trees. Her head still ached and the light made her eyes feel like they were burning but it was beautiful anyways.

[viviandroidcardigan]

1/2 Ch.7 For Hearth and Home

A little something for my readers if there are any here. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*･ﾟ✧ First part of Ch. 7 “For Hearth and Home”. It takes me forever to finish this chapter. I hope posting it gonna speed me along! Warnings include emotional turmoil and lotta swearing. xD

General Glauca was definitely an enemy. Titus Drautos wasn’t. Nyx was finally confronted with the reality of them being the same person and expected to make a decision on that account.  

Their previous argument didn’t help. It seemed to be either a very elaborate strategy to confuse him or the man was batshit crazy. Either way he was dangerous and unpredictable. Nyx had to consider it as not just his own ethical dilemma but also a threat to his mission to help the young king.

They have survived, almost made it out of the city but what’s next? They couldn’t come together, whatever his motives and plans were, Nyx couldn’t lead the murderer of King Regis to his son. It wasn’t like he could easily leave him behind or win in a fight after they made it past the wall either. 

It wasn’t something Nyx wanted to happen but for once the position he found himself in was unbelievably advantageous. 

Nyx surveyed their setting.

It was a small corridor and there was a dozen of Lucians with guns. Some obvious newbies but a couple looked sure and confident with their weapon the way only professionals could be. Maybe they were royal guards but since they haven’t recognized them the police or some private force was more likely. Didn’t really matter, they were people comfortable with guns and pointing them at someone, probably comfortable with pulling a trigger too. Even if general Glauca’s armor could be summoned fast enough to cover him from bullets, Nyx knew for a fact that the lightning bolts he still owned could melt the armor away. Maybe not all of it but surely enough to get some bullets through. The man was beyond exhausted and barely standing on his feet, he would be slow. That enormous sword would be totally useless in the confined spaces of the sewers. He could still kill many of them but Nyx was pretty sure that general Glauca wouldn’t walk away from this fight. 

And he was very much aware of it himself.

Nyx met his somber look and there was perfect understanding there. Both of them knew exactly where this was heading to and how it was going to play out.  

And there it was again that acknowledgment in his eyes. He looked at Nyx with unnerving frankness as if accepting full responsibility for his actions but not repenting any of them.  

It was a long heavy stare full of statements Nyx could only partly untangle and couldn’t really comprehend.   

And the next moment it was gone. Drautos sighed and closed his bloodshot eyes not in surrender but in extreme weariness. He wasn’t going to fight.

“Sir?” one of the armed men prompted Nyx.

Whatever he could do, he could not command a slaughter on a man waiting for it. Maybe even deserving it. Remembering king Regis Nyx couldn’t claim the same about Titus Drautos. Maybe that was a difference between them.

“No,” Nyx said addressing no one in particular. He wasn’t a friend but maybe for a short while at least long enough to understand… “He is an ally.”

The walk through the corridors was uneventful though after a dozen of different turns Nyx had to admit that without the guidance they would have been long lost. In fact he wondered how these guys felt so confident after what couldn’t be more than a couple of days in here. He supposed there was a system of signs after all but he was in no condition to try and figure it out. For him it was just a similar tunnel after tunnel either annoyingly linear or confusingly branching.

At that point he was in so much pain he stopped thinking even about Drautos somewhere behind the two guys helping Nyx to walk, basically dragging him along.

He wasn’t thinking about anything at all, just watched reflection of the lapel lighters bouncing of the same wet walls and listened to the multiple splash noises their group produced. Every once in a while there was a loud but distant echoes of dripping water and radio crackling whenever someone in the group made or received a message.     

He wasn’t a good judge of time in his half-lucid state but they must have been walking for at least an hour until they reached some kind of a base. Nyx noticed at least two sets of guards they passed to get inside it. But really it was just a row of a few spacious halls with some large machinery stationed here and there for some unknown probably water-cleaning purposes. There were fluorescent tubes on the walls suddenly bright after the dimness of the tunnels and a soft hum of working mechanisms. A surprising amount of people was rushing in every direction, stacking what looked like food and medicine boxes and blankets and all kinds of other supplies along the walls.

They bypassed a niche with a huge ass map of Insomnia’s utility lines with marks all over it and a tired looking woman giving orders in her walkie-talkie. The maps of that scale were classified. There surely were some police forces working with this rebellion or whatever this was. Also the radios they carried were old outdated things but it made sense with the frequencies, Nyx supposed. Niflheim was operating on the whole different level and they would doubtfully use something so low tech.

There probably were some air vents too because despite the fact that they surely were deeper underground the air was much easier to breath and lost the low level stench of ditch water from the tunnels Nyx wasn’t even noticing until it was gone. 

Eventually they got settled in a small room with a few empty cots that maybe have been an office at some point, or maybe just a glorified closet since there still were heaps of stuff in the corners. Underground and without windows any room kind of looked like a storage space.

“We are arranging an infirmary here, it’s not much but you can rest until our captain comes back. He already knows about you but there are troubles by the gate, he should be back by nightfall,” said the leader of the group, while Nyx was carefully put down on one of the cots.

Drautos was helped to the neighboring one and Nyx bit his tongue on why he would prefer any other possible arrangement. 

“Our only medic is with cap, I’m afraid.” 

“It’s fine, I got patched up already. Just really need those IVs from the bag.”

It took some time to set things up but they ended with tubes in their arms, wishes to get well and no supervision whatsoever.

Both of them starred at the webbing of cracks on the low celling in silence too filled with stifled tired breaths to be actually tense. Nyx looked to the side and then up again and made a resolute decision to postpone the much-needed talk once more. His guts were pulsing painfully and he was concerned he might puke them out if he tried to talk.

He had half a thought about how maybe this prolonged lack of resolution tricked him into thinking that it’s normal for them to just be in one room without killing each other, to be attached to the same IV stand. It was not normal and it worried Nyx that he had to remind himself about it. But the chemicals flooding his blood stream blurred this line of thought before he could think it through or make any decision concerning it.     

The next time Nyx woke up, there were two guys from the tunnels with a tray of food, bottles of water and news about their captain arriving soon.

Commander Drautos silently sleeping on his cot opened his eyes the moment they were out of the door and Nyx felt aggravated even by such a small act of deception. The fact that Drautos wasn’t even trying to hide it from him irrationally pissed him off.   

“Give me one reason, why I shouldn’t call them back,” Nyx said in a very flat voice.

“You have already found one,” Drautos answered after a short pause and for once, continued without additional prodding. “I’m here now, so you have found at least one reason for me to be. I don’t have a clue what that is.”

“Life for life,” Nyx said without elaborating.

Let him think it was about finding him a medic or figuring out the magic sharing for the healing. Nyx honestly couldn’t make himself be grateful for those hellish hours. He actually meant that moment with a hand around his throat. The more he thought about it the more it felt like that time in the tunnels. To spare someone’s life when you are holding it completely in your hand with every reason to end it. And to receive the exact same thing in return. That created a certain bond or at least got them even.

“What do you want to know?”  

Everything. He wanted to know everything. But Nyx understood that to get concrete answers he had to provide the questions. And boy he had questions.

“Why are you here?” Nyx asked.

It wasn’t as specific as it probably should have been but that question bothered him the most. And sure enough, Drautos got his meaning straightway.     

“I wasn’t working with the Empire for them to win. I wanted to end this war and to get freedom for the lands beyond the wall. The war is done and they refused it, so there is no point in going back.”

“Oh sure,” Nyx drawled unimpressed. He could maybe take that before but he was mulling over all this for days, he could easily pinpoint the problems with that statement. “But you had plenty of possibilities to leave before broadcast said anything about the lands.”    

All the beeping horn snapping and the fact that he did leave and then came back, it just didn’t add up.

“Yes. And you would have died. That doctor would be leaving or selling you out the second after I left.”

Nyx had all the witty quips about how it still went that exact way. But he agreed that treacherous doc had more balls than any of them gave him credit for and Nyx wouldn’t have made it alone. That led him to another question that was plaguing him for the major part of his waking hours these few days.          

“So why did you save me? What are you gaining by it?”

“It’s really more of a what am I loosing otherwise.”

“Don’t…” Nyx snapped but Drautos sent him an impatient glance and Nyx subsided and muttered: “Continue.”

“It’s not about you,” Drautos deadpanned and Nyx felt weirdly offended and relieved he didn’t get to finish his indignant retort before it, “Well, not really about you. It was a complex situation.”

He was silent for a long moment either collecting his thoughts, composing believable lies or just done with answering altogether.

Nyx stared at the door with his best blank face trying to take control of his anger, failing and wishing he could use the trick with fire in a hand. It was a technique he invented for himself to burn through any intense emotion, practice control and concentration. He was somehow sure it was a bad idea to call for magic now, when he was still strangely overpowered and could burn the place to ashes.   

However, it seemed like commander Drautos intended to continue. 

“You remember how it started. I’m not becoming an image used against those I’m helping. You could have killed me back then. Maybe I’m the one who should be asking why you didn’t. Anyways. It went down from there. I’m not sure you will believe why your survival was important for me, but it was.”

“Try me,” Nyx said. And couldn’t help but add: “It’s barely enough fingers in one hand to count how many times already you’ve tried to kill me.” 

Oh how he hated to continue it silently: there were not enough on both his hands to count how many times he was saved.

“There were objectives, you were in the way. You know how it works, Nyx.”

“So why was my survival all that important? Since when?”

“It was always important.”

“If you…”

“All of you. Not just yours, the Glaive.”

“You have destroyed the Glaive!” suddenly Nyx was screaming. He stood up, uncaring for the swaying world, just to get a little bit away form the man. “Half of them killed the other half! You had a fucking robot army and you still used them, still made Glaives into traitors!”

“It was never meant to go that way!” Drautos snarled back, showing emotion for the first time. Expression dark and distant, like when they were fighting. “You were all sent out of the city…”

“To leave it defenseless!”

“To spare you!”

“It was a trap.”

“Yes. But its purpose was to confine, not to annihilate. I was wrong about Luche, I did not recognize his viciousness.”

Nyx grabbed his hair with his good hand, thoughts entirely scrambled.

“Tell me how it is. Just tell me all of it,” he said very low.

“There was a plan and for me to go on with it Kingsglaive had to be out of Insomnia. You were meant to get there and get captured. Yes, there was an order to dispose of those too strong or too stupid to give up. I was half-sure you would be one of those. But I hoped you wouldn’t. After the end of the war I was going to talk with all of you and you know same as me, they wouldn’t be too opposed to finally get home. With peace. It was the sole purpose of the Glaive. For hearth and home.”

“You don’t get to say those words.”

“They were my words. I have the only right.”

That got Nyx to deflate and stumble back to his cot.  

“I was pretty sure you won’t survive it,” Drautos continued, “you were certainly not supposed to come back with lady Lunafreya of all people. But you were alive. And then I found out what happened. And just when I tried to arrange you staying alive, Luche and Libertus got involved again and you just had to put that fucking ring on.”

Nyx felt his shackles rising in reminder about Libertus but he was thrown for a second to hear commander swearing, it was too rare of an occasion. Drautos was getting agitated once again.

“You were on my way and I was going to remove you from it. But I left you there, when I knocked you down, didn’t I? I left you and you should have stayed down. But you never learn, do you?”

“I was taught that way,” Nyx said going for venomous but landing closer to hurt.

Drautos scowled at him.

“There were so many times you could’ve, should’ve died that night. But you didn’t. Then you helped me,” he explained slowly, deliberately. “I know it wasn’t for my sake but I thought I was dying and I was thankful that despite my actions the Glaive persevered in you.”   

Nyx bristled at it. If that was some misguided guilt he got to cash in for all the dead comrades he didn’t want it.

“By the time I figured that I’m surviving and you are not, it was an unacceptable outcome.”

“So what, you’ve saved me because you didn’t allow me to die and I was going to anyway?”

“You’ve asked for answers, I don’t care if they please you or not.”

So basically yes. That was the most arrogant shit Nyx have ever heard and it felt unfairly familiar, exactly like something commander would actually say.

Nyx shook his head and went for a water bottle. There were so many questions he still had to ask.

The thing was, Nyx was a bad judge of a character. He couldn’t really tell when someone was lying and he knew about it. He read fucking books about it. He watched intently and tried to remember every possible sign any clue and there was nothing.  

“When did it happen? How many years ago you defected?” Nyx asked, pretty sure it was that. Years. 

“Twenty-one.”

Whatever Nyx was expecting, it wasn’t that. He almost dropped his half-full bottle.   

“What? But it can’t be! That’s… impossible. Kingsglaive wasn’t even established back then.”

“Yes. So?”

Nyx starred at the man in total incomprehension. 

“But? But how can…? You shaped the Glaive to be the strongest weapon Lucis had against Niflheim. Why?” 

“It was my duty as the captain of Kingsglaive.”

“But you planned all the battles against us? All those times we got decimated?”

“Not all, but yes. As general Glauca, I had responsibilities.”

“You are both of them. The same fucking person.”

“I…” Drautos hesitated, as if he was about to object. “I suppose.”

Nyx really wanted to get up and pace the room again but he was too shaken to try something requiring that much coordination.

The first time he thought commander might be crazy he didn’t really mean it. But now. If he was telling the truth, and for all things divine Nyx couldn’t come up with a single reason why would he lie and make things less believable, the man was a lunatic. He sat there clam and composed and saw no problem with being two separate mutually excluding people.

Twenty-one years of lies. Kingsglaive designed by a madman who formed and shaped everything Nyx believed in.

“So you were what, back then…” Nyx trailed off, too stunned to manage a question.

“Twenty-four. A king’s guard.”         

This was… well, not changing everything, but changing perception Nyx had of the situation, too much to even start understanding it again. That was younger than him now.

“But why?”

“We are back to it again... Fine. I was young and twice betrayed by Lucis Caelum dynasty. Just lost someone important. The time has come to finally see there was nothing but death and defeat on the side of Lucis. They could have ended the war decades ago if not for the pride of the king.”

“So it’s better to serve the emperor?”

“It’s better to serve your purpose. Mine has never changed. Only the means.”

Nyx looked away. There was a brutal and efficient logic to it.

“I’m not two people,” Drautos continued somehow thoughtful, like it was the first time he considered his odd dichotomy. “But they were independent functions and I’ve learned to separate my thoughts for each of them. It never would have worked any other way for so long. I guess… I’m neither. My goals are neither and I’m what needs to be to reach them.”

Well maybe not conventionally mad, Nyx pondered, but there was also nothing normal with that kind of thinking. He wasn’t exactly well adjusted himself but that was just too far.

Nyx took a pause to gather up his thoughts, but they were just a messy tangle of facts and emotions and suspicions. He kind of believed the gist of what was said because it was too stupid to be purely made up.

It changed nothing, however. Knowing some of the reasons and circumstances did not excuse any of the actions. Especially since commander Drautos was so insistent on not being a least bit remorseful about them.         

[midnight-watch-committee]

Story 4:lost

The Louenburg residence 3:14 am February, 14th,2019

The early mornings were always oddly refreshing. I’d flip over to a kid’s tv channel and get to catch some classic cartoons. My top 3 were probably Spiderman, Silver Surfer, and Looney toons. It was always nice to see those and escape the reality of school or “work.” Is this even a job? I honestly never know but it feels like slavery to some magical book. Every single time it opens I feel like an R rated Scooby Doo, getting the gang together to fuck the town up more. Would I be more of a Velma? I got up from the couch and went over to my laptop bag near the wall. It had been a while since Terror Eater, so everyone had started to calm down. It’s not like I INTENDED to disappear for a week, just saw some tree and was like “Oh fuck yeah.” Now that I think about it, that’s kinda sad. Just throw some trees my way and I do whatever you want. God, I love plants. I sat down with my laptop and opened it up, watching Spiderman and taking a which scooby doo character are you quiz because I’m very mature, shut up, when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. A blinking red light out in the yard. That couldn’t have been right. I got up to get a closer look, pretending to be looking for my laptop charger. It was... a camera. WHAT THE FUCK! I almost screamed, but somehow managed to keep a level head. Was someone watching me? Who? FBI? I didn’t know what to do. I just grabbed my shit and called Mickey, knowing he’d still be up. He was, sure as day. “Hey, it’s a bad time but what’s up?” He said, he probably started his sentence before even answering. Sure enough, he was the team nurse. Took a first aid class during the summer after I broke my arm. “Hey, someone’s outside watching me, can you come get me?” I said. I heard him shoot up half way through the sentence, “What do you mean someone’s watching you?” He blurted out, he was pretty loud, probably so he didn’t have to explain to Mara where he was going. “As in someone’s sitting outside recording me!” I whisper-screamed at him. “Hey, I gotta-” He started, followed by Mara telling him to “Go, it’s an emergency, get moving!” I would’ve laughed in any other situation, but... I was honestly more afraid this person would figure out I saw them. Did they already know? If they did and brought a weapon, I don’t doubt they’d attack Mickey. “Hurry!” I whispered and hung up. I just had to play cool until he got here. Ok, I can do this. By the time my eyes weren’t breaking away from the light I realized how fucked I was. I can’t even talk to a new person without freaking out, much less let them sit in the bushes and record me for their wank collection. DING! I snatched up my phone. “I’m here, let’s go,” Don’t have to tell me twice, I shot for my bag, grabbed it, and ran! Not gonna wait for that guy to get his rocks off to scram! I hopped in the passenger seat and slammed the door. I opened his glove box and grabbed his revolver. “Hey, that’s not a toy!” he yelled. I put it back, sighing. So much for castle doctrine.

The Vallen residence 7:00 am, February 14th, 2019.

You might be wondering why I decided to get up so early. I did too, I had no self-confidence, none at all, in fact I had negative self-confidence. These are things you already probably knew. Unless trees, Beth, or adventure was involved, I’d constantly doubt myself. My Facebook time line reminded me what day it was with a picture I never wanted to see again. Me, in a sparkly red dress, and there, with their arm around me was my former lover Alex. Alex was nonbinary and a real tough lookin folk. Their wardrobe was probably the costume design for The Terminator. The dark hair and biker jacket used to turn me on... now it just hurts. They went missing a while back, no one said anything. That was about three years ago, and every year since Mickey gave me something on Valentine’s Day, the cards always calling me his dearest friend. It was nice but it didn’t change much. They were still gone. Fuck it, this time I’m finally not gonna be sad! I opened the closet and grabbed the same red dress from the photo and threw it on quickly. I ran to the bathroom and flung open the makeup drawer. Digging through it I realized how old most of the stuff was. I grabbed what little wasn’t empty or expired and threw it on. Some black eyeshadow, mascara, and red lipstick never hurt anyone! I looked up in the mirror and felt... good for once! Not because of all the pretty shit, although that never hurt, but because for the first time in a while I was taking control. I grabbed my converse shoes and threw them on quick, stole a granola bar from the pantry and ran out to the bus stop. I leaped in through the door way panting, the other kids from my stop must’ve thought I truly lost it, and maybe I have. I sat down and checked my purse. Card? Check! We were good to go. I threw on “Jessie’s Girl” and watched out the window at everything passing by.  

Big Horn High School, 7:25 am, February 14th, 2019

The bus was late, so there went dropping it in her computer bag early today. Guess I’d have second period, besides, she’s busy with club stuff in the mornings anyways. How does she even do it? “Ms. Vallen!” Mr. Hadison called after me. “I know, I’m late! Trust me, I got some good photos for class-” I started, turning around to see the one, the only special agent/Uber driver Chuck Garrison. “Ms. Vallen what a pleasure-” He stopped mid-sentence, “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” Shit, girl, we’re so dead! Does he know? For now, act like he doesn’t. “No... Nope, no way Jose!” I said, immediately blowing it. “Yep, I gave you a ride! I could tell the moment you opened your mouth.” He said and honestly I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was serious. “I know we talked earlier about somethings but Mr. Hadison here said you knew anything and everything about instant cameras.” He continued. “I do, why are you asking?” My voice was shaking again. He handed me a picture, “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about who took this photo or the camera used for it?” Ha, that’s it? Man, this would be easy. I took a look at it. It was one of mine, but I knew that if I tried to wiggle out or lie, I was as good as dead. “This looks like a Polaroid OneStep, much like the one I have” I held up my camera and gave it a wiggle. “The photographer, whoever they are, knew their tool like the back of their hand, the coloring is a little off but given the date at the bottom this tends to happen with pictures that are left unprotected for a while.” “Could they have also been called a camera expert like yourself?” Garrison asked, trying to trip me up. “Well, I guess with enough time and practice, anyone could be, don’t really see how a title effects an investigation-” I paused. “Hang on!” I held the picture up to a light and a smile ran across my face. It was the cabin but there was something off. “Someone added a window and a mountain! Whoever gave this to you is bullshiting you!” I handed it back to him, “Can I go to class now, officer? Or did you have any more questions?” He looked at the picture, then me, picture again, me again. He nodded and I headed off. “How did she know that?” Chuck asked. “Told you she’d know what you needed.” Mr. Hadison answered with a slight chuckle.

Lunch, 10:45 am, February 14th,2019.

I sat down at the table with Beth, Mickey, and Mara. They had started talking about whatever plans the couple ™ had and kept insisting Beth came along. I plopped a couple pictures down and started eating. The lack of space and pockets was honestly way more annoying than I remembered. I got a jaw drop from Mickey and a “Wowza!” from Beth, so I assumed it was the dress. “Ok pervs, get it all out now!” I joked, hoping they didn’t have any more comments. “Hey, so sorry but I forgot to get you something,” Mickey said. Three years and he’s never forgotten, hell last year I literally caught him buying a card for me in the middle of January! Who even does that? “What do you mean get her something?” Mara asked, and Beth started typing the answer away on her phone. The annoyed expression on Mara’s face changed to one of guilt. “Yeah, I was surprised too when I first saw him do it.” Beth said. I kept quiet for the rest of lunch, zoning out and eating my food, making sure my pics were good and occasionally showing one or two to the table. The one benefit to a magic camera is that you never run out of film! There were maybe two hundred photos there and I loved almost all of them. The bell rang and Beth shot off, as soon as she was out of ear shot was when I remembered I probably should’ve given her the card.

After school, 2:15 pm, February 14th, 2019.

Walking to Mickey’s truck I saw a bush... sit down. The red light from last night was starting to flash. Was this person really so stupid as to try something like this in broad daylight? I walked over, ready to kick this perv in the face for putting his cameras through such abuse as to violate someone’s privacy when I noticed something glowing... my camera. I stood still, who was seeing this? I started to feel weak, so I ran, sprinting towards Mickey. “It’s-” was about all I could force out before collapsing.

Big Horn Memorial County Hospital, 6:23 pm, February 14th,2019

When I came to, I had an IV in my arm and Beth sitting in a chair nearby. “What happened?” I asked, hoping what I remembered was a fever dream. Beth shot up and kneeled down next to my bed “Hey, you’re ok.” She said in her calming voice. “You passed out, doctors think it was dehydration but I told them that wasn’t possible, I literally watched you drink before you collapsed.” I chuckled softly, “Wow, Beth, you watch me drink? Are you sure it wasn’t you outside last night?” Her smile disappeared. “What?” she seemed scared, as was I. “There was...someone outside your place last night, they were recording me all night and-” Beth cut me off by handing the Children’s survival guide to me. “Someone... or something?” Sure as shit, the page in front of me is what little I remembered seeing. A pale, tall, humanoid creature. They don’t just have cameras, the cameras are their head, constantly watching and draining its victims of all life. Rumor has it that they’re people kidnapped by monsters with magical powers turned into a monster themselves and the only way to free them is if they’re recognized by someone. Their targets are usually someone they’re close to but can also be someone who’s just met them. “Oh yes, because I’ll remember M.C. Camera face!” I said, defeated. A hospital cart rolled by, completely unattended. Beth looked over at it, watching it roll past and looking for any signs of it. She gripped my hand, I guess to keep track of me. The door flung open and the thing came in, Beth stood in between us to block it. I kept Staring at it, trying to think of who could possibly be this camera! That’s when I noticed, it was an old camera. Not just any old camera, but the camera I had used to film my first ever dance with... “Beth, move!” She turned around, “Are you insane, it’s going to kill you!” I sigh and smile at it, “No Beth, they aren’t... please just trust me.” She sighed and moved aside. The stalker got close, leaning in maybe an inch from my face. “I thought of you today, Alex.” I said. The stalker started to emit steam, warping into itself, and yet it had this look. Even though it had no face, you could tell it was giving me a “Thank you” look. Beth and I sat there in watched, tears rolling down my face. As the last of it burned, Beth came over and wiped my tears, holding me close. I spent about an hour just crying with Beth there cradling me. It was nice, but eventually I stopped crying. “Hey,” she said reaching into her purse, “I may or may not have planned something out for tonight that didn’t work because you were in the hospital. But we do have an alternative!” she said, pulling a projector out of her bag. I was pleasantly surprised. “Wait, did you stop Mickey from-” I started. “No silly, just wanted to give you mine first” She said, turning off the lights and turning the projector on. It was her, holding some note cards. It was late and she was quietly reading them from her room but you could tell she cared. “Juniper, I’ve told a million lies to a thousand people but today I have to say the hardest words I have ever said before in my life.” A picture of us went up, in place of her as she laid down next to me. “If there was ever someone I would want to be trapped on an island with, it would be you. You are funny, clever, sweet, and more stunning than you ever give yourself credit for. I knew that the first time I ever asked you for a pencil, and every time after that. The adorable way you stammer over your words when you aren’t confident in yourself reminds me I might actually have a chance to say what I want to say in person. Juniper Susan Vallen...” The projector Beth disappeared as the video ended, replaced by me and the real Beth sitting in the darkness. I felt her face turn towards me, the room barely illuminated by the hallway light through the curtains and the monitors behind me. “I...” she paused. She felt like... well like me trying to talk to someone! “I love you” she barely managed to get out. Fireworks went off in my heart. This can’t be real! “Elizabeth Louenburg...” I paused too for dramatic effect. “I may or may not love you too.” She looked at me like I just told her to go fuck herself “May or may not?” I giggled, “Ok, Ok, yes, I love you too, dummy!” She sat in my lap and kissed me. It was amazing, I didn’t want it to end. But sadly, we were interrupted by someone knocking at the door. Beth sighed and got up, checking the door. “Ok, I’ll ask her if she wants to see you now.” she said to whoever it was, them responding back and her snapping “I don’t care if you’re God himself, if Juni doesn’t want to see you, she doesn’t want to see you!” She shut the door on them and whispered to me “Some guy named Chuck is here to see you.” I gave her a thumbs up and she opened the door. “She said you have five minutes.” Beth said, knowing damn well I didn’t but probably just wanted to spend some more time with her new girlfriend. Chuck sat down, his stereotypical suit and tie looking a little less professional the way it was coming apart. “When I heard our only real witness,” he said, gesturing towards me, “was in the hospital I HAD to rush down here. Juniper,” He said, looking at me like he was losing all hope in this weak case, “do you know of anyone who may have attempted to hurt you in anyway?” I shook my head. “Then how did you break your nose? And how did you pass out in the first place?” Beth started to seem annoyed so I tried to answer him quickly, “I have no idea how I collapsed, doctors noticed a lack of nutrients so that might’ve been it, as far as my nose goes I hit the ground pretty hard so that must’ve done the trick.” And with that his faith seemed restored. “If we happened to get any more pictures from the news or wherever, would you still be willing to identify them?” I nodded and he got up. “Thank you so much! We might just have a case against these traitors after all!” He shook my hand, then Beth’s. “It was nice to meet you, ma’am. I’ll let you girls get back to whatever you were doing.” He winked at me and left. It was odd but... reassuring oddly. Beth sighed and layed next to me, refusing to leave me all night.