#also everyone somehow survived having gil next to them

[makwandis]

gil isn't insane because of like any modern history stuff gil is insane bc he grew up in pre christian north eastern Europe with slavs on one side scandinavians on the other and he somehow . Survived. That

[maul-of-shame]

Me @ my own brain at 3AM: Can you please let me REST? Can you please let me SLEEP?

My brain: No, but here’s a Corporate AU Gil-galad x Reader where he’s the stressed CEO, and you’re his new assistant with literally zero corporate experience, yet somehow, through sheer luck, audacity, and a borderline feral sense of survival, you keep absolutely steamrolling through high-stakes meetings like it’s nothing.

Me: Okay, but—

Brain: Like, he hired you out of desperation because his last assistant quit after one too many “Your 3PM meeting was actually at 2PM” disasters, and HR was taking too long finding a replacement. You just happened to be there, available, and not afraid to make direct eye contact with him, so now you have a job you are in no way qualified for.

Me: Oh no—

Brain: But somehow, against all logic, you’re actually fantastic at it. Not because you know what you’re doing (you don’t) but because:

You don’t get intimidated by corporate nonsense. Gil-galad is out here having an existential crisis over a merger deal worth millions, and you’re just like, "Have you tried asking them nicely? Maybe they just need a snack and a nap." And somehow… it works??

You have chaotic girl math energy. He’s spending weeks strategizing a budget proposal, and you, a dumbass with no MBA, look at the numbers and go, "Why don’t you just cut the thing that costs too much?" And you’re right.

You’re completely unbothered by office politics. Gil-galad is used to dealing with rival CEOs, backstabbing execs, and power plays, but you? You’re just vibing. Some dude from legal tries to intimidate you, and you just go, "Oh, you think I know what I’m doing? Buddy, I don’t even know how I got here. Get in line."

You keep accidentally making him look brilliant. You say something offhandedly sarcastic in a meeting, and the board members think it’s some kind of genius new corporate strategy. Next thing you know, Gil-galad is getting praised for his “innovative and disruptive leadership.”

Me: Stop—

Brain: And he is losing his mind over it. Like, HOW are you doing this?? WHO ARE YOU?? Are you some kind of divine agent of chaos??

Me: Please I just wanna slee—

Brain: Also, he’s starting to fall in love with you. Because on top of somehow saving his company on a daily basis, you’re also charming, witty, and frustratingly attractive. He catches himself looking at you too long, gets weirdly protective when other execs flirt with you, and hates how much he enjoys your dumb jokes.

Me, desperately trying to sleep: Please, I just want to rest—

Brain: Okay, but what if you also wrote a Ranger! Single Dad Adar x Reader AU where you’re the new shopkeeper in a little mountain town, and Adar keeps showing up with his kid, looking all broody and ominous, but his kid immediately imprints on you like a baby duck? Based on those two gifs you saw with Sam?

Me: …

Brain: Like, you sell practical things—leathers, herbs, hunting supplies—but somehow, every single week, Adar is forced to stop by because his kid keeps breaking shit or losing things on purpose just to see you again.

Me: Stop—

Brain: And Adar is SO annoyed about it. Like, he’s standing there all arms crossed, grumbling in his deep, scary voice about how “this is unnecessary,” while his kid is enthusiastically shoving a handful of flowers into your hands and asking if you’ll marry their dad.

Me, now fully awake: …go on.

Brain: And everyone in town is convinced you two are married already, because the kid keeps calling you things like “our favorite person” and Adar, despite all his complaining, has literally never corrected them.

Me, already opening Google Docs at 4AM: goddammit—

Brain: Also, your Elendil Coffee Shop AU is going up today.

Me, sipping coffee with shaking hands: I did not consent to this work-life balance. But sure.

Brain:

[thefae-journal]

tripping the wires

fandom: Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies ship: Faccivinos pov: second person, Jane

word count: 3,623 warnings: n/a

summary: That night she snuck in through your bedroom window, drenched from the rain. You helped dry her off with a spare towel from your bathroom, and everything seemed to fall into place.

- "i want more (just not this)"

Also on AO3

Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies masterlist masterlist

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

This is where it started. Under the bleachers, you approached her while her head was buried in a book. You don’t remember which book it was, but that detail doesn’t matter. Like it was nothing, she told you off. Her words cut deep. 

Take a glass half full and drown in it then. 

Yet, there she was, standing with you on stage after she was the first person to endorse you. Stood and flashed her ass to the entire eleventh grade, with you. 

Stole Gil’s car. Made you buttons—and kissed every one of them. Snuck out of detention. Tried her best to make sure that people didn’t hate you.

For you. Everything she did. Does . That can’t just go ignored. And it doesn’t. 

She didn’t let you drown, no matter how full the glass was and how much it overflowed. 

You thought that this was normal friendship stuff. This was how friendships worked. You’ve never had any friends, not in the first fifteen years of your life. Not really, not like this. And just like that, that wasn’t how it was anymore. So suddenly, Olivia Valdovinos held your hand and didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. 

At the Frosty Palace, your hand brushed hers on the seat of the booth, under the table. You were sitting beside her, and Nancy, who was off the clock but still in her uniform, was on the other side of you. Then Cynthia was next to Nancy, and Hazel on the other side of Olivia. Chatter of winter break plans floated through the somewhat empty Frosty Palace. Slow day. 

“I’ll have to come here as much as I can,” Olivia said. “To see all of you, but most of break, I’ll be with my family. Now that Richie is back—” She shook her head, her curls slightly bouncing. “I can’t stay away from you for too long. I might go insane.”

Everyone laughed, even you—a light giggle that leaped from your tongue. 

“What about you, Jane? Not seeing us every day, how will you survive?” she teased, and nudged your shoulder with her own. “Won’t you miss me?” On the light blue leather of the booth, pinkies touched, then linked. As if it was normal. Right. 

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you bowed your head and stared at your hands. How your pinkies fitted so well together. You imagined what it would be like if it was her whole hand. Her whole hand captured by yours, embraced by yours. But you already knew what that felt like—she held your hand at the fall carnival. That was different… somehow.

“Of course I’ll miss my Pinks. I love you guys, but break is only a week, and we can still hang out.” 

“I would like that,” Hazel chimed in. “It’s been a few weeks since we’ve had a sleepover, all together.” 

Sleepover. You lifted your gaze, and Olivia was the first in your view. With no effort at all, her just existing, being, sweeping locks of her hair over her shoulder, your breath hitched like it was stuck in your throat and couldn’t properly be expelled. Her hair had gotten a little longer since the fall, before Thanksgiving. What you would give to run your hand through it…

This didn’t make any sense. She was your best friend, just your best friend. Nothing else beyond that. And friends… they didn’t think of each other like that, in that way. When she smiled, it warmed you from the inside out. This warmth sat in your stomach, crawled through every vein in your body. Blood boiled to a simmer that rose to your cheeks—flush. 

When she looked at you, touched your shoulder and her thumb brushed along the material of your dress. Every time she was at your side during the days that were sour. You’re enough. 

You’re Jane. 

Her little chuckle when those words came out of her mouth. 

How you wished then that she tucked your hair behind your ear. Just a little. Only a little.

Olivia squeezed your pinkie, and you were brought back to Nancy’s hand waving in front of your face. 

“Hello, Earth to Jane,” Nancy said, retracting her hand. “Did you hear anything I said?” 

“I—” You glanced around the table, at each of the Pink Ladies. Hazel and Olivia’s genuine concern, Nancy’s very clear annoyance that she might have to repeat everything. You couldn’t read Cynthia, her head tilted to the side. But her eyes seemed focused, studying you almost, for a moment before she blinked it away. “No.” 

“Where was that head of yours, huh?” It was no longer just pinkies, but full hands clasped together. Olivia moved them to her lap, and keeping your composure after spacing out became harder to do. “You’re always running, Janey. Slow down for a second.” 

Janey.

Nancy groaned and crossed her arms over the table. “Sleepover. My house instead of yours.” 

“O-okay? Are you asking or…?” 

“Yes, I’m asking!” 

“You know you didn’t have to ask. I’ve always wondered why none of you ever offered to do a Pink Ladies sleepover not…” You paused, feeling Olivia’s fingers spread yours apart so hers could fit in between. You opened your mouth to at least try to say something. Nothing came out. You couldn’t finish what you were saying because Olivia caught your tongue or zippered your lips shut. 

Hazel adjusted her glasses. “Not… what?” 

You cleared your throat. “I… um…” 

Sweat built up in the cracks of your palms, even the one Olivia was holding. That meant that she would feel it. That meant that she would know you were nervous—because your hands were always sweaty when you were nervous or flustered. That meant that Olivia would ask you if something was wrong. That meant that Olivia would be more concerned than she already was. Maybe ask more questions than you could handle. 

Your grip on Olivia’s hand tightened, uncomfortably tightened, and you started feeling the pressure of the Pinks’ eyes on you. Waiting. Waiting for anything to leave your mouth. One word. The slightest noise. A single breath. 

Olivia’s other hand found yours, now enveloped, like a hug. And for a moment, you eased, finally exhaled. “Jane? Are you—?” 

“I’m fine! I’m fine. I just need to, um…” You gestured to Nancy and Cynthia to leave the booth. Once they did, a bit confused as to why they had to, your hand slipped out of Olivia’s, and you slid out of the booth like it was fire under you. You needed to get out. You needed to be alone. Breathe. Fucking breathe. 

You rushed to the bathroom. Turned on the faucet of one of the sinks and let the water run. Your hands rested at either side of the sink, grasping at the white. If nails could dig into porcelain, make a dent, yours would. 

What the hell was wrong with you? Your eyes met the matching ones in the mirror. Your face was all red, eyes close to watering. You sniffled. “Fuck.” 

“Jane?” It was Cynthia.

You jumped and twisted the knobs of the faucet to stop the cold water from flowing. You dried your eyes. 

You didn’t even hear the door open. 

“I’m okay,” you reassured her. “I just—” 

She leaned back against the bathroom door. “You like Olivia, don’t you?” 

You did. Do. When those words crept to your ears, reality set in. Truth set in. It was out there. Cynthia knew—just by how you looked at her. There was no more escaping it. There was no more not knowing what this was. What your feelings were. What they meant. 

After your talk with Cynthia, you went back to the booth, sat next to Olivia like you weren’t just telling Cynthia how your whole heart would swell at the sight of her barely minutes ago. She leaned close to you to whisper into your ear: “Are you okay?” 

You nodded. 

You wish you don’t have to hide from her.

Almost midnight, and you are lying in your bed, tucked in, lights off. All you can think about is her. Your mind simply won’t shut itself off even though it needs to because the tiredness in your body is reaching your eyes, and they are starting to ache. You try to rub them awake with your knuckles, but it doesn’t soothe the sleep that’s bound to catch them. 

Rain pounds against the roof, and although this usually lulls you to sleep, tonight, it’s ineffective, as you toss and turn. Pull the comfort close, then shove it away, then pull it close again. Scream into your pillow. Cry. So much crying. Out of frustration. Pain—internal pain. Pain that makes it seem like your chest is tight or your stomach is upset, but it’s just the result of every single thought passing through your brain that you’re struggling to piece together because of how fast they’re going. 

On your stomach, you bury your face in your pillow, hugging it—the same position you sleep in when you have cramps. The pressure to your stomach makes it better, relieves the spasms that plague you. You wonder if the pressure of your forehead pushed in the pillow would do the same—flip that thinking switch, turn it off. Like Olivia said: slow down. 

You laugh. Slow down? Jane Facciano, slow down? That’s too much like a fantasy. 

Jane Facciano doesn’t slow down. Not in her head. Not in her body. 

Unfortunately. 

Not when Olivia is stuck in the webs. Not when you can’t stop thinking about kissing—

Shut up. Just shut up. 

Shut up. 

As if your brain is listening, it goes quiet, except for the tapping of glass. Tapping that isn’t inside your brain at all, but outside of it. At your window. 

Slow, you fold the comforter over, put on your glasses, and approach the window. Lights still off, darkness encasing your bedroom. No shadows linger on the carpet floor or the pink walls, until you pull open the curtain, and bits of the street lights shine through. On the other side of the window is Olivia, soaked—her hair, her clothes, her skin, her face. 

“God, Olivia.” You wave your hand down, signaling for her to duck, before pushing the window open. You help her climb in, then close the window so rain doesn’t get in and dampen the cushion of the window seat. 

When you turn, she's standing in front of you, a victim of the downpour. But still, beautiful. So damn beautiful. 

In her wet clothes, she shivers, and seeing her chin and lips quiver, you guide her to your bathroom without a word. Shut the door. Lights on.

You grab a towel from the closet and wrap it around her shoulders. She tugs the towel at the corners, seeking more of it so her elbows are under it too. With your hands on her arms, you check over her—her face, her body—to make sure that she’s okay. Physically anyway. And besides being soaked from head to toe, she seems like she is. 

“I’m going to get you dry clothes, okay? Wait here.” You turn to leave the bathroom, but her fingers wrap around your wrist, stopping you. You go back to where you once were, your hands on her arms. You stroke them. “Are you okay?” you ask, your voice a low hum in the quiet of the bathroom. 

Olivia, oddly, avoids your eyes, staring down at the cream tile floor. You’ve never seen her like this. So frail and broken. A cat shoved into a corner with no possible way to flee. “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispers.

“Liv, I…” You pause, a long beat as you gather your words. “I’m here. You’re not alone, I promise. You need to get out of these wet clothes before you get sick. I’ll be back, okay? I’ll be gone…” You wipe away drops of water trailing down her cheeks from the rain, water dripping from her hair. “...only for a second. Well, um, not literally a second.” 

She laughs, then nods, giving you permission to go now. 

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be back,” you say.

But you don’t go. You lose yourself in her. The softness and vulnerability of the moment. The way her eyes finally meet yours. How her eyes are less brown under these lights. More blue. Or is it green? A combination of the two maybe. Either way, they’re— 

They truly are something special. Just like she is. 

You know that if you were to place your hand over your heart, it would be pounding, fast. If you leave, fetch her new clothes like you said you will, it might even out. Not be as fast as you imagine it is. Thumping, like when Fran used to jump from one stair to the next a few years ago instead of walking up them. If she touches you, your wrist, any spot that radiates a pulse, will she feel it, too? 

“I’ll be back,” you repeat with a heavy breath, and this time, you do go, the door left open behind you so she can see you. 

She can see you turn on one of your lamps, the one closest to your bed. She can see you at your dresser, browsing through each drawer. She can see you venturing into your closet, hear you humming to yourself. She can see you as you settle on pajama shorts and a long-sleeve button-up. Baby blue, no pattern. You give them to her, and she can’t see you anymore.

...

No, I… What makes you think that I do? She’s my best friend. I can’t— 

You surrendered. Is it that obvious?

Yes, but even if it wasn't, it just makes sense. 

What Cynthia said holds weight within your body. 

You’re practically attached at the hip. Wherever we are, you’re always next to each other. 

When Olivia quit the Pink Ladies, it was like you were going through a divorce. 

I know you’ve been having Pink Ladies sleepovers without us. Is it even a Pink Ladies sleepover if it’s only you and Olivia?

For the first time, you released every bit of your feelings for her. Said the scary parts out loud.

You wanted to be close to her. Always.

You couldn’t stand being away from her, and you truly thought that winter break was going to kill you if you couldn’t see her at least once during that week. 

You liked when she held your hand. You liked when it was just you and her, alone. 

Her abandoning her Pink Ladies jacket at your house felt like a break-up. The worst break-up that hit you hard, harder than you expected it to. 

That night, you wore her jacket to bed. Sobbed into your pillow. All because you thought you lost the most amazing person you had ever met. 

Your mom came into your room, hearing your sobs from down the hall, and she didn’t understand. She tried her best to comfort you, but it couldn’t stop the crack from forming in your chest where your heart resided. 

And when Olivia chose you, chose the Pink Ladies instead of getting married, you never felt more relieved. You wanted to cry right then and there, but kept it together, for her. That was what she needed. 

That is what she needs after walking through the rain, climbing up the wall garden and to your bedroom. You’ll do that, mute your aching just for a moment. Whatever she needs. 

I like Olivia. Maybe I even… love… her. 

You sit on your bed, your legs crossed like a soft pretzel, and you brush Olivia’s hair. Untangle it of the knots that came because of the rain. You’re gentle with her, slowly moving the brush from the top of her head to the tips that end below her shoulders. 

“Do you want to talk?” 

Olivia lowers her head, and you adjust to her movements, her posture. “Richie wants to ask you to… to… go with him.” 

You stop. 

“We had a fight. It woke my little cousins. He’s never—” She sniffles and brings her knees to her chest. “He’s never yelled at me like that before. We don’t… yell at each other. He was so angry, Janey.” 

You’re not sure you comprehend it. How an argument started from Richie wanting to try again with you. If anything, you’re flattered that he does. But… Richie is history. You have your eyes on someone else now, someone you can’t have. You have to pay the price for it. 

Falling for a girl. Falling for your best friend. 

You shake your head and continue brushing her hair. It’s not dripping anymore—just damp. 

“I said something that I shouldn’t have. It was stupid, and I wasn’t thinking. If I kept my mouth shut—” Olivia hiccups. “Girls aren’t allowed to have what they want. They have to take what they’re given and accept it. I didn’t… couldn’t accept it because what I want is too strong.” 

You finish up the last strands of her hair and set your brush down. All nice and smooth, like it should be. You know it’ll be soft once it dries, even if she doesn’t tend to it, pin it up, style it. “Your voice is just as important as his, if not more important.” You comb your fingers through her hair. “It’s important to me. You’re…” 

You’re important to me. 

Olivia looks over her shoulder at you, tears brimming her eyes. “I wish everyone was like you, Jane. I think life would be better if they were.” 

Your hand finds her back and lingers for a moment, before rubbing it up and down, hoping to calm her pending tears, the sadness that rules over her. “I think life would be better if everyone was like you.” 

“What? No, Jane, you don’t have to say that to—”

“I’m not. I mean it.” 

She sharply turns and hugs you, her arms around your neck. Despite the change in position, your hands still rest on her back. And your stomach, well, your stomach feels fuzzy. 

And you, you feel alive. 

As she buries her nose in your hair. 

How her fingers play with the baby curls on your neck. 

How this feels so… right, and it’s a hug. Just a hug. You’ve hugged her plenty of times before. But this hug, here, carries every single ounce of love that feels like home. 

“It upsets me when people don’t see it, don’t see you outside of… of your body and your looks. You have a beautiful brain inside that head of yours, Liv. And a beautiful heart. One of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. If people don’t see that, see who you truly are, it’s their loss,” you say. “I see you. I always have.” You pull away, only a little, enough to see her face and the tears present on her cheeks. “Olivia, you’re allowed to want things, even if the world says you can’t have them.” 

You already know. There are so many things you would beg to have, but the world isn’t kind. The world can give you a home one day and betray you the next. The world can give you love one day and rip it out of your arms the next. The pain it drops on you is too much to bear. The feelings you have for Olivia, the tugging it does of your limbs, is too much. 

It’s all too much, and there’s nothing you can do to escape it. Even when the world says it’s not right. Even when the world says it’s bad. Even when the world won’t let you love her because loving her causes the tide to travel in the wrong direction. 

But the wrong direction is the right direction. For you, this is what’s right. You and Olivia. This want to be with her, more than a friend would. And if you come crashing, you’ll crash together. 

If she wants this, too. If she wants… 

What if she doesn’t? What if all of this is just you?

Yet, you wipe her tears away with your thumbs as if it’s not. As if it is the both of you. She is in this, too. When she relaxes into your touch, you start to wonder… unless she’s yearning for comfort, any kind of comfort, and she’s not seeing your actions as something romantic.

Until her hand connects with yours, keeping you there on her cheek. “I’m so glad you asked me to be your campaign manager.” Your eyes drift down to her lips as she speaks. “And that I chose you.” 

“I am, too.” 

You don’t mean to do it again. You don’t mean to lean in. You catch your body acting before your mind can approve. You don’t try to stop yourself, because she reciprocates. She looks at your lips, too. She leans in, too. 

Is that why she and Richie fought? Because of you? Did her hand on yours, her soft breaths on your skin, her stolen glances of your lips force her to brave the rain? All the times she held your hand, asked to come over and stay the night, called you during weekends to say hi or that she misses you… 

You exhale and nuzzle your nose against hers. “Can I kiss you? Is that okay?” you whisper. 

Olivia nods, and the feeling you’ve only dreamed of, the feeling you thought you would never get to feel cascades through you, a sudden wave of warmth. A kiss. Her kiss. Her lips on yours. And everything you wanted, everything you thought you couldn’t have, falls into place.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #145: Gilgamesh (Caster)

Today on Fate and Phantasms we bring you the long-suffering king, Gilgamesh (Caster)! Like all Gilgameshes, you’ll be able to throw things at people, but magic. And yes, you will be able to stay up for days on end without dying. Immediately.

This Gil is a War Magic Wizard to weave magical defenses and hold the line, as well as a Celestial Warlock so you can still have some magic after avoiding long rests for so long.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut or his character sheet over here! 

Next up: Snaby (Snake Baby)

Race and Background

You’re still 2/3s god, but you’re protecting a city this time around, so let’s call you a Protector Aasimar. This gives you +1 Constitution and +2 Charisma. You also get Darkvision to dunk on normal humans, Celestial Resistance against Radiant and Necrotic damage, the Light cantrip, and Healing Hands to keep yourself standing a bit longer.

Like always, Noble is a a disrespectful downplay of your station, but it’s the closest we can get, giving you History and Persuasion proficiency.

Ability Scores

Put your Charisma first and foremost, you’re still running a city, and that requires a force of personality, especially given current events. Second is Intelligence, running an all-out war for this long needs tactical skill. Your Constitution is pretty good too, we all know how long you can go without sleep. Your Dexterity isn’t amazing, if anything actually reaches the city you might have a problem. Your Wisdom is pretty low, despite everything, you’re still Gilgamesh. Finally, dump Strength. If you haven’t had time to sleep, you haven’t had time to work out.

Class Levels

1. Warlock 1: First level warlocks get proficiency in Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as two warlock skills. Arcana is an obvious pick for a caster, and Investigation will help you figure out what demonic beast left a gaping hole in the wall. You can’t fight something effectively until you know what it is.

You also gain Pact Magic, spells you can cast with your Charisma what recharge on short rests. As a celestial lock, you also get a Healing Light, 1+your warlock level d6s that you can spend as a bonus action to heal a nearby creature. The most you can use at once is your charisma modifier. This feature recharges on long rests, so don’t get too used to them.

For spells: Eldritch Blast because duh, Friends to run the town a bit more smoothly, Guiding Bolt to lead the way in battle, and Witch Bolt for longer-term damage.

2. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations to customize their features. Take Eldritch Mind right now for better concentration, and save the other for next level. 

You also learn Distort Value so that meddlesome goddess doesn’t run off with your entire treasury. 

3. Warlock 3: Third level Protector Aasimars get a Radiant Soul, giving you wings for a minute as a bonus action. They last for a minute, and while flying around you can add your level in radiant damage to one spell or attack per turn. This recharges... *sigh* on long rests.

You also get the Pact of the Tome, giving you a fancy lil book with three cantrips of your choice. I’d suggest Guidance to be better at everything, Vicious Mockery because... just look at him, and Thaumaturgy to get your volume cranked up. Those dramatic speeches aren’t going to make themselves, after all.

You also get the invocation Aspect of the Moon, removing your need to sleep entirely. To long rest, you spend eight hours doing light activity.  We’ll get something later to cut long rests out entirely, but this’ll work for now.

You also learn how to cast Flock of Familiars. Every good king needs some advisors, after all.

4. Warlock 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Intelligence so we can start off our other class strong. You also learn Blade Ward, giving you resistance to physical attacks. Your AC really isn’t good right now, so this’ll come in handy. You also learn Enthrall, so you can make sure everyone keeps their eyes on you during your rousing speeches.

5. Wizard 1: First level Wizards learn Spells that you cast and prepare from your Intelligence modifier from a larger list in your spellbook. Your Arcane Recovery means that once per long rest you can get a couple of your spell slots back on a short rest as well, a total level equal to half your wizard level rounded up.

While we’re on the topic of spell slots, your wizard slots and warlock slots don’t mix like most multiclassing, but you can use one class’s slots for another’s spells just fine.

Wizards get a lot of spells, so we won’t go over all of them here, but Mage Armor is a must, as well as Shield.  Putting metal around your hips and one hand does not count as armor.

6. Wizard 2: Second level wizards pick a school, and the school of War Magic will keep you in the fight for a long time. Arcane Deflection gives you either +2 to AC or +4 to a saving throw as a reaction, provided you’re okay only casting cantrips the next turn. You’ve spent four levels as a warlock, I’m sure you’ll manage somehow.

Your Tactical Wit adds your intelligence to your initiative, so you can start giving out orders faster.

7. Wizard 3: Third level wizards get second level spells, like Augury for some early divination and Scorching Ray for some Uruk Brand Arrows.

8. Wizard 4: Use your second ASI to become an Inspiring Leader, letting you spend a couple minutes to give your party some free temporary HP. They’re.... they’re gonna need that.

9. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get third level spells, like Fly. Tactics require a top-down view. You also get the invocation Far Scribe, for free castings of Message. Now even the people in the back’ll be able to hear you!

10. Warlock 6: Sixth level celestlocks get a Radiant Soul, giving you extra fire/radiant damage equal to your charisma modifier when you cast a spell that deals fire/radiant damage. You also resist radiant damage. again.

You also learn the spell Intellect Fortress, giving a creature resistance on psychic damage and advantage on intelligence, wisdom, and charisma saves for up to an hour. Tiamat’s existence is probably a charisma save against being frightened, right?

11. Warlock 7: Seventh level warlocks learn how to make Guardians of Faith, giving you the ability to create a large glowing... thing... that hits hostile creatures who get too close.

You also learn the invocation Book of Ancient Secrets, giving you two 1st-level rituals from any spellcasting class now, and the ability to copy others when you see them.

12. Warlock 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger spells, like Sickening Radiance. Blow things up with real big magic arrows.

13. Warlock 9: Ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, like Greater Restoration! This spell lets you remove one level of exhaustion, so now you can finally survive on nothing but short rests!

You also get the invocation Whispers of the Grave, which lets you cast Speak with Dead for free. Now you can finally stop and hear yourself think.

Wait...

14. Warlock 10: Tenth level celestlocks get Celestial Resistance, giving you and your party temporary HP at the end of each short or long rest. You get 10 plus your charisma modifier, the others get 5 plus your charisma modifier.

You also learn True Strike. It’s not a good spell, but it is a cheap way to keep concentration on something, which will be important later.

15. Wizard 5: Fifth level wizards get third level spells... again, like Catnap to make your short rests even shorter and Melf’s Minute Meteors for some more arrows that you can fire off two at a time.

16. Wizard 6: Sixth level war mages learn the art of the Power Surge. You can store up to three surges at a time and gain one at the end of a short rest or when you use Dispel Magic or Counterspell. They also reset to one after a long rest, so your terrible sleep schedule is finally paying off! You can spend a power surge to add extra force damage to a wizard spell for one creature.

17. Wizard 7: Seventh level wizards get fourth level spells, like Divination to keep an eye on the demonic front.

18. Wizard 8: Use your last ASI to bump up your Intelligence for an extra Power Surge and stronger magic.

19. Wizard 9: Ninth level wizards get fifth level spells, like Legend Lore, which lets you compare legendary items to the ones in your treasury to figure out what they do.

20. Wizard 10: Tenth level wizards get Durable Magic. While concentrating on a spell, you get +2 to your AC and all saves. You can also use Hold Monster to slow Tiamat down a bit, and Commune with City to keep tabs on the people of Uruk during this crisis.

Pros: 

You literally don’t have to sleep, ever, so long as you have 100 gold per day to pay for Greater Restoration. Keep watch! Catch up on that book series you’ve been putting off! The possibilities are endless!

You also come packing some solid magic defenses, with the ability to slap extra points onto any save you might need to, plus advantage from spells like Intellect Fortress.

Wizards get a ton of spells in general, but you take that variety to the next level. Features like Book of Ancient Secrets the wizard’s spellbook will expand your casting capabilities to new heights!

Cons:

Most people don’t like being woken up at 3am, so there’s not much point in not sleeping beyond the occasional crisis. 

Physically, you’re very squishy. With only 133 HP at level 20 and an AC of 14-6 without destroying your ability to cast spells, distance is your best friend. You also don’t have a ton of movement options, so good luck against monks.

War mages are built around concentration at higher levels, which is fine, but it means you need a lot of concentration spells to get the most out of the class. That also means you have to plan your defense carefully, or you might get overwhelmed.

[violetnatelley]

Changing of the Song [Part 3]: Chapter 31 - The Breaking of the Vantarëa

A Marvel & Tolkien Crossover

Main Characters: Illyria Strange, Maedhros, Glorfindel, Darcy Lewis

Also featuring: Elrond Peredhel, Amrod, Amras, Celegorm, Maglor, Fingon, Mereneth, Celebrian, Gil-Galad

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mention of Character Death

Other Tags: Fluff and Angst, Romance, Sparring, Magical Dueling, Eldritch Magic, BAMF Maedhros, Russingon, Sibling Bonding, New Accords.

Maedhros let go of his hand to pat his shoulder, telling him: “Just keep an eye on your footing, Pitya.”

“Will do, big brother,” Amrod hummed before his eyes looked behind Maedhros.

As he heard a familiar voice, it took all will in Maedhros to calm his mind.

However, as he turned around to see the other pair that were sparring in the training yard – he didn’t think he could hold his impatience.

Who allowed Celegorm to train with him? Our of everyone in this place, it just had to be Glorfindel out of all elves.

And by how they were pretty much squaring up to one another, Maedhros knew they were both doing in to annoy each other.

His brother was ever the hunter, stalking his opponent like a predator catching prey. To his surprise, Celegorm hadn’t dropped yet, though by how his hair was a little dishevelled and his mouth open, panting, he was struggling to keep going by Glorfindel’s excessive actions.

But to counter it, his brother seemed to use their mother’s technique. He swiftly dodged the attacks of Glorfindel’s sword, using steps and motions they all had mastered and developed for their fighting styles. But in Maedhros eyes, he could tell that Celegorm was stalling it.

Especially with that annoying smirk on his face.

Maedhros barked back at him, “Háno, stop berating him!”

Celegorm gave his brother that look before he ducked another slice of the blade, smoothly bending back before parrying the next

Unfortunately, the latter hadn’t noticed his opponent taking his time. Glorfindel spoke out loud with a shit-eating grin, “Oh we’re just having some fun, Fëanorion.” He then immediately cried out as Celegorm’s foot slammed right onto the pressure point at his calf. The Half-Ainu glared back before he shouted, “Argh! Why you—”

Suddenly, Celegorm dropped his sword and ducked his head, grabbing onto both of Glorfindel’s arms whilst twisting his body back. In one quick motion, he threw Glorfindel over his shoulder, a neat trick as he pried off the sword which clattered onto the ground.

Celegorm let out a huge breath before he stated, “Well that is one thing to defeat a half-Ainu.”

Amrod snorted, commenting back, “You still couldn’t.” He nudged his chin at Glorfindel’s direction, who was just getting up. “He’s barely sweating, Tyelko.”

Maedhros internally rolled his eyes when Celegorm scowled back at Amrod before he muted his annoyance and held his hand out for the Half-Ainu. Glorfindel thanked him, picking up his sword from the ground before he gave a neutral thanks to the other fair-haired elf.

“He should have done Ammë’s trick,” Amras nonchalantly called out, causing Maedhros to choke from the air – hiding his amusement with a cough. That caused Glorfindel – who was across the yard – eye them confusedly – all whilst Celegorm smirked and snorted. [1]

Celegorm eyed them as he noted, “You both know that only Moryo knows how to do that.”

Maedhros added casually, “So does Írissë.”

Amrod his laughter when their fair-haired brother glared, cheeks going redder than before.

It would seem they were going to have a break, and by how the rest of the elves who were busy sparring or training with the other equipment. A mix of Fëanorian elves whom he knew since the March even those who survived the end of the war and those of Imladris. Considering they have all survived the battle thrown by Saruman, it had somehow brought most of them together.

Well as much as war destroyed, at least there was something good about it.

Maedhros went over to the side of the training yard, wincing at the burns on his arm when he unrolled his sleeves. Most wounds he obtained would often heal after a week or so, but the small burns upon his skin from Orthanc had somehow stayed. His only conclusion was that it was either from Saruman’s magic or Illyria’s.

From what happened up at the tower, Illyria’s Aini form lashing out like a blast, it must have been from her. It was just like the burn on his left hand from the Silmaril, which was more plausible than the Maia himself.

But he would never tell Illyria. No. She already had so much on her. Telling her that she had hurt him unintentionally would make things worse.

Maedhros just had to bear with it, asking Maglor to glamour it up until Elrond could heal it. Let’s just say that he had to bear it whenever Illyria hugged him or his brothers would punch him on the arm.

As he rummaged through his satchel that was placed on the side, he heard boots striding up to him. Maedhros stood up straight only to find Amras walking up to him. The youngest of the twins, his green eyes brightened in Maedhros’s direction, raising his brows as he gestured to his arm.

Telling him that it wasn’t his business, Amras rolled his eyes before finally got to him – folding his arms across whilst Maedhros found the bandages he had gotten from Earth. Never would he use the supplies given here; the advancement of such simple necessities was perhaps a life saviour to all those in Imladris.

Amras began to speak as he stood beside him, looking towards the rest of the yard. “Glad that Lord Glorfindel is doing better,” He told him, “Lord Erestor has been on him for constantly being in the training yard.”

That made him raise a brow.

As he wrapped the bandage once more over the burn, Maedhros asked him, “Since when have you known him?”

As if he was supposed to know, Amras shrugged as he replied, “Since we’ve both been bedridden beside one another.” As Maedhros ripped the end of the roll, he placed the leftover wrappings back into his satchel before he pulled his sleeve down. Amras continued, “I remember him arriving with Ecthelion to court. He’s Ingwion’s kin if I remember.”

Maedhros glanced at his side, eyeing Amras with suspicion: “Any purpose for telling me that?”

- Excerpt of Maedhros' viewpoint

[faith-trustpixiedust]

Descendants AU with this. The villains poured all of their remaining strength into creating a curse that would cause Ben to die on the night before his 21st birthday or something. There isn’t a cure they know of, but there’s some really cryptic message written in the Fae language that has no direct translation to anything in any human language although Fairy Godmother says it’s loosely “an act of union”, so they assume it’s an act of true love.

One day when they’re about 12, Chad runs into the castle yelling about how Ben just accidentally got slightly scratched by a sword gifted to Chad by Mulan, and they run out to find Audrey sobbing on the steps with him laying unconscious. Then he sits up and the perhaps minimized “slight scratch” vanishes and Audrey is wiping the streaked mascara from her lashes. 

Belle and Adam tell the three young royals about Ben’s curse.

“So what you’re saying is I’m practical immortal for eight more years?”

“We think but we wouldn’t want to-”

Ben yells “YOLO!” and jumps out the third story window into rose bushes below.

“-tempt fate.”

“I’m fine!”

He immediately sets out for Arendelle, Northuldra, and Ahtohallan to have Elsa hit him with ice magic then goes up to see all of his ancestors in ice sculpture form. He finds the recipe the Evil Queen used to make her poison apples, and bakes them into a pie. He visits Merida in Dunbroch and asks if Mor’du is still around. Chad and Lonnie egg him on, Doug and Jane try to stop him, and Audrey cries every time he gets hurt even though he keeps telling her he’s fine.

This goes on for a couple years, then Adam tells him he’s going to have to stop jumping out of planes without parachutes if he wants to become king and be serious. Ben then tries to donate both of his kidneys (Belle firmly puts her foot down on that one) and tells doctors at the local research hospital that they can inject him with whatever they want because he’ll survive it, and he wants them to learn. 

His antics have also made it into the news a few times, which a very frazzled royal PR team dismisses as him having beast blood.

We arrive at the events of the first movie. “Dad, I’ve decided to bring over four kids from the Isle of the Lost.”

“The children of our sworn enemies? Living among us?”

“What are they gonna do? Kill me?”

“They might try to take down the country.”

“Then I’ll tell them they’ll have to come through me first.”

They don’t let him tell the VKs about the curse, in fear that they’ll try to manipulate him somehow. Mal eventually connects the dots after hearing Hades talk about this kid prince who has cheated death over a thousand times now...plus she saw Ben drink a vial of poison for kicks and giggles and that helped confirmed it. He tells them the truth after Maleficent wrecks the coronation.

“Let me save you next time!”

“Ben, let’s not let there be a next time.”

“No but if there is...let me protect you. I kinda can’t die for five more years.”

Uma threatens to drown him and he laughs in her face. Harry says he’ll hook him, and Ben talks about the time he juggled chainsaws. Gil replies by saying he’s juggled eggs before, but his papa got real mad when he dropped them.

It’s Goin Down is also a lot more chill, because tbh Mal isn’t that worried about Ben’s safety, except she’s not entirely sure if his curse still works on the Isle, or if it’ll still be effective once they leave. It does, which he proves by throwing himself out of the limo and into the ocean on their way back. Once she finds out she can shapeshift into a dragon, she and Ben totally sneak out to go do flying tricks.

Audrey is even more determined to marry him in this plotline, because she knows that after he turns 21, either his wife will rule Auradon or else his parents will, however none of her threats as evil Audrey really scare him that much because he knows she can’t hurt him, and he knows that she knows it too.

The only thing that has really scared Ben since hearing about his curse is meeting Hades after the barrier came down.

After the events of Descendants 3, Ben has been so busy with wedding planning, helping all the villains find new homes, and supervising relationships between the heros and their respective villains that he doesn’t have time to do his usual stuff. Ben, Mal, and their families go for a cake tasting, and suddenly Ben is laying on the floor, struggling to breathe. Everyone but Hades and Maleficent ignore him.

“Not that I particularly want you to marry that, but don’t you think eating dessert while he can’t breathe is a bit harsh?” Maleficent asks.

“Yeah, and I’m kinda off the clock right now so if you guys want to save him...” Hades tells them.

“Oh he’s fine, he can’t die until he turns 21.”

“Dear, the curse broke months ago.” It turns out the act of union was uniting Auradon and the Isle, and Ben is extremely allergic to hazelnuts but never got tested as a kid. 

[captainkurosolaire]

Price Tags

“Welcome kitten to my humble sanctuary. You upstarts have done significantly to hold your own against all my Museum Pieces, my Majestical Sentries and Toy Soldiers, and even Stewart Guardian. Though I advise you to submit, right here and I’ll let you walk away modestly intact. There’s no point in pretending you’re the righteous one.” Admiring himself nearside a standing tall mirror on the furthest side of the cabin’s room.

“And you sick-freak? What about you? Where do you even get off?!” Hissing aloud at him her branded justice signaling in flares. She wanted this man strung in proper retribution. “Oh, little naive miss prim, everyone since conception is valued, little missy. It’s but the gifted and chosen those weighted with destined who are tasked with reminding those lesser places. To humble them, I was blessed by thouest holiest and reputable divines to sculpt them, models of their own creation’s forevermore and to spread this world in a basket of genuine wealth internally saving all those from ugly.” Cackling to himself maniacally, absolutely conceitedly believed that he was some actual textbook hero, someone just, serving a purpose above all others. Posing zany in spreading his arms in unnecessary tulips with a backward leg uprising. This revolting ideology was uprooted from textbooks containing how majestically adorned fame, was a poisonous plague. Spewed in the prospect of being seen as diverse, unique, special. Unfortunately, because his narcissism made him avid and was misconstrued as confidence which could make others feel compelling or believe in this behavior. Not to mention those who felt to refute his philosophy, of course, the coward just stone-turned them and stripped away their freedom from rejecting. Seeing himself as a celebrity of sorts and would only be given that treatment. Though on the outside of his cohorts, despite being someone who manipulates those to achieve his functional crew and ‘professional’ pestilence he was only ever met with slaps on the wrists because ever sorrowfully he really did contain somehow special in his skills, that brought wealth, and that currency, oh how glint shined brighter than any believed soul. It was the ‘majority influx’ that decided whether or not something mattered seamlessly. It lit up and swallowed those to their abandoning sense. Corruption was easily to engulf and mature out of individuals, it was hard-pressed not to find someone struggling or those who were slummed in difficulties. Aimless and of homelessness with being discarded as precisely insignificant because of their wealthy status and not inheriting any blood or possessions often determined the outcome of survival. The heartless became inferior to their flock aside from them, there wasn’t anything they could do or change, decide. Jammed on this, they were stunted for failure. They lacked critical in identifying that they’ve got a choice to speak against and smash-mouth their anger and succeed regardless. Something diverse every single one formed individually just some easily found their quirks. The others only needed to be fed proper chances or guided, navigated to their peaks, and learned to themselves. Not decided or enforced.

At this point, Klethera was meeting the real grip of reality in evil’s, appointing a necessary means to vanquish Scourges of Sea, Land, Sky, it mattered undoubtedly somewhere everywhere one coexisted polluting. Merely from someone opening life job opportunities and gil that was enough to decide whether or not they’d be lawless and untouchable? That’s all… It took to be sold?! She lost snapping control and whipped out her ballistic and aimed, the coward skirted behind his nearside standing tall mirror knocking it over in the process, revealing behind it was also another jade gemstone statue of an enslaved minstrel. This twisted bastard even had symphonies sung to his own praise. She barely caught herself from pulling that trigger, her arm fidgeting and shaking as she screamed in distraught. She almost rashly ran into something that couldn’t wash away.                               (Previous)  — / References /  —   ♫  — (Next Page)  

[secret-engima]

Snippet of Clouds Across the Moonlit Skies

(Long snip because I hate to break the scene. Everyone meet Aranea’s mom Satyrinae and her dad Pelops. For short term OCs, I really like them, they make a nice pair. :D)

...

     Satyrinae was used to seeing strange folk get blown into her store by the desert winds. Good folk, bad folk, wild hunters almost as feral as the beasts they hunted, and snobby nobles who looked like they would rather die than deign to talk to her. She was also used to dealing the strange people blown in on the desert winds as either customers, passersby, or thieves. Most thieves didn’t last long. She might run a store now, but she was far from a tame civilian, and her Quicksilver model revolver still shot just as true as it ever had when she was out killing monsters for coin. Any thief that tried to steal from her store had one chance to put the stolen goods down and make up for the attempt. If they didn’t … well.

     Satyrinae was very well liked by the hunters and wilderness guides whose families lived in town, and there was a lot of wilderness a person could take a shovel to.

     So when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled in the middle of washing dishes, several hours after the close of her store and only an hour left at most before sunset, Satyrinae didn’t doubt her instincts. She just picked up her Quicksilver from where she had put it on the counter within easy reach and padded downstairs, ready to find another troublemaker.

     She slipped in through the well-oiled door of the back room, padded out to the entrance that came out behind the counter and paused, scanning for signs of trouble. Her first check was the perishable aisles. Most of the thieves that came in here were looking for supplies of food and water to carry them out into the desert again. Her next glance lingered on the camping and medical supplies for the same reasons. Nothing. No sign of disturbance. So what was making her instincts sit up? It wasn’t an obvious sound, or smell, or sight. But she’d survived a grueling mercenary career for fifteen years of her life before settling down with a gentle, civilian husband —who was currently upstairs putting their daughter to bed, not even aware Satyrinae had slipped downstairs—. She trusted her instincts over her senses. It had saved her life before.

     Then, before she could reach for the light switch and reveal her presence to whoever was hiding in her store, she heard the faintest rustle-thump of something being pulled in bulk from her shelves. She honed in on the noise, thumb on the hammer of her Quicksilver but not pulling it back yet as she identified where the noise came from —no sense making a loud clicking sound and tipping off the thief just yet—. She paused when she realized it was coming from the very small but well stocked baby aisle. The one she kept for traveling couples and local parents.

     Why would a thief be in the baby aisle?

     With a sudden sinking feeling, she flicked on the light and clicked back the hammer of Quicksilver with more drama than strictly necessary, “I have a clear line of sight to all the doors and windows,” she announced firmly, “and I’m a faster shot then you can a run or a fight.” Deathly silence, no movement. Satyrinae raised her voice a little, pushing all the brusque authority of a former mercenary commander and current mother in her voice, “Now, I don’t like blood on my floor, and I don’t like wasting bullets. You come out nice and slow, hands where I can see them, and we can talk this out. You try to fight or run and I’ll be wasting a bullet putting a hole in your head and spending the rest of my evening scrubbing blood out of the floor. Pretty sure neither of us want that, so get out here. Slowly.”

     Finally, she heard the rustle of fabric, the sound of someone slowly standing up, “How do I know you won’t shoot the moment I’m visible?” Asked a deep, masculine voice from the cover of the shelves.

     “You don’t,” she retorted coldly, “Guess you just gotta trust that I hate being on my knees scrubbing floorboards more than I hate thieves.”

     A long pause, then a low, “I’m coming out.” A gesture, a single, empty hand coming into view. She heard a soft, shaky curse and then, “I have a child with me. Don’t. Shoot.”

     Very, very slowly, the man inched out into her view, his every movement cautious, ready to dive behind the nearest cover. Only one hand was in the air, away from the katana she could see belted at his waist, the other was visible and supporting a large bulge in his jacket. She was ready to call out his lie —hiding stolen goods in a jacket and pretending it was a child or a puppy or something was an old trick—, then there was the unmistakable sound of a baby’s coo and a tiny face peered over the edge of the jacket, revealing bright gold hair and wide blue eyes. The hand supporting the child flexed slightly, gripping more tightly out of fear. Icy blue eyes watched her every move, ready react in defense of the baby at any moment.

     Satyrinae swore softly and lowered the pistol away from the child, but didn’t relax her guard just yet, “That yours? Or you a baby thief as well as a burglar?”

     The man’s face pinched and there was a hint of fresh fury and despair on his face, “I’m all he’s got.” The man said instead of a straight answer and she raised an eyebrow at him. The man eyed her, clearly sizing up his options, and Satyrinae’s hackles rose a little higher. This man was a soldier of some kind. He wasn’t a Niflheim trooper, not if he was stealing, not the way he was dressed. He was either a mercenary, a deserter…

     Or a Lucian spy.

     “What happened to his last keepers?” She asked and there, in the careful way he measured his breathing and the flicker of fury, she saw a story she didn’t think he’d ever tell her.

     “I don’t know,” he said and that part seemed honest, “I found him. I couldn’t just … leave him there and let the-.” He cut himself off, glanced down at the wide-eyed child for a fraction of a second, looked back up at her, “I couldn’t let the animals tear him apart.”

     Somehow, she mused as she assessed the man, I don’t think you mean the four-legged or even the daemonic kind of animal. Fair enough, she’d seen a lot of abuse survivors in her time. The question was whether or not the man was actually a rescuer, or if he was an abuser who had stolen someone’s child for kicks and gil. The scuff of boots on wood interrupted her thoughts and she almost rolled her eyes at the gentle bass of her husband’s voice coming from behind her, “Satyr?”

     “Not now, Love.”

     She could hear him move to stand just behind and to the side, saw the thief’s eyes flick from him then back to her with the predatory practice of a soldier sizing up the opposition. No, not even a soldier. He was more feral than that. Something about that observation and the faint accent in the thief’s voice niggled at her, but her concentration was disrupted by her husband murmuring, “Oh. Oh dear. She’s so small. Is she yours?”

     The man’s gaze didn’t leave Satyrinae, but there was something oddly raw and honest —helpless, desperate— in the way he answered, “Him. He’s … I’m all he’s got.”

     She could hear more and more concern leak into her husband’s voice, “Astrals, he’s so young. You came here to steal supplies for him?”

     The man’s jaw worked, “I don’t have any money. Or monster parts to trade. I’ve been-. I can’t hunt like this.”

     “I can imagine.” Pelops said and Satyrinae inwardly groaned because she knew that tone, she knew what came next, “How far are you going? You’re going to need more supplies than just what you can carry with your bare hands, you know.”

     “Love…” She growled.

     “Satyr mine,” retorted Pelops in that tone that meant he would not be moved, “he’s not a bad man. He’s got a good soul.”

[digital-dhampirs]

30 Days of Vanitas no Carte: Day 21!

Who do you think will still be living at the end of the series?

because this is mochijun, and people Will Die.

Let’s start with the most obvious living character: Noé won’t die. He’s the narrator (similar to Gil in Pandora Hearts) and we know that he’s writing and creating the case study of Vanitas in hindsight after Vanitas’s “death”, aka after the manga is over. He might die at the very end of the manga, after he finishes his case study, but not any time before. Essentially, he’ll live until at least the last 3 pages, and will probably survive the whole manga.

Next up is Vanitas, who I’m really not sure about. Noé says Vanitas dies, but Vanitas says he doesn’t die, he’s just going away or something.... which makes me think he’s going to end up in some state of limbo, maybe returning at the very end of the manga from this limbo somehow? idk. Maybe living, maybe dead, maybe like half living and half dead.

I think whether Dominique lives or dies will depend a lot on the next Misha/ Exposition Universelle arc. It really depends on how deeply her actions impact the plot of the arc— the deeper/ more negative the impact, the more likely she is to die. I think her death could be an interesting way to show/ shape Noé’s psyche, especially if she dies at the hands of either Teacher of Vanitas... however, I did feel this way towards the middle of the Return of the Beast Arc with Jean- Jacques too so this might just be my brain being sadistic. Overall Dominique’s death would have some extremely interesting plot repercussions but since Noé would kill to protect her, her death seems a bit unlikely.

Jeanne is another question mark. I feel like her plot arc is just starting (I mean what’s with that weird random clone girl thing aaaaugh) so I can’t come to any conclusions until we know more about her situation. We do know, however, that Jeanne is currently one of the most well- protected people in the entire story. Jeanne is extremely valuable to every single power hungry vampire as the person Grand Duke Lucius Oriflamme loves more than anyone else in the world. Ruthven in particular will try to avoid killing Jeanne because of this. TLDR: she might die but definitely not any time soon.

Next up is Luca! To be completely frank... I don’t think Luca will die. He’s way too valuable to the vampires. Since he has no blood relatives that we know of besides his brother Loki and his adopted uncle Ruthven, there is nobody Luca can pass the title of Grand Duke to (I’m assuming it’s a hereditary title because Luca is like... 12) until he’s older, which means killing him means killing the second most politically powerful people in the universe. That’s causing extreme, extrEME retaliation. In addition to that most people underestimate Luca do to his age and don’t see him as as powerful as he actually is. The one exception to this “Luca doesn’t die” rule is if he dies protecting Jeanne— this is a very real possibility, but I don’t think Jeanne will let it happen. Luca won’t die.

Let’s move on to Jean- Jacques and Chloé, more characters who I don’t think will die. They live in an isolated forest, can protect themselves from intruders, and are both like a thousand years old. I think they’re just gonna life on happily in Gévaudan.

Next up in our “who’s gonna die” list is Roland. I’m not sure how he would die, because Roland is extremely powerful, but the fact that the character from the Matter of France that he’s based on dies makes it extremely likely that Roland is going to die too. I really can’t see how he’d die, though. But I do think he’s going to die before the manga is over. Roland is a character that’s honestly already completed his character arc— he loves himself, loves everyone else, has learned to accept people, everything else. Him dying nobly in some way or another would honestly not be an out of order completion of his character arc.

Everything I just said for Roland? Copy/ paste that (except for the part about loving and accepting people lol) here and you’ll get my feelings on Olivier. He dies in the Matter of France so it does seem like he’s gonna die in VnC too.

The next main Chasseur to talk about is Astolfo. I think Astolfo is going to live for the opposite reason that I think Roland is going to die— Astolfo hasn’t completed his character arc. If he dies now, just a kid full of fury and regret, his plot arc isn’t really satisfying in any way unless he has some kind of extremely last minute turnaround a bit like Elliot’s realization about Humpty Dumpty in Pandora Hearts. To sum it all up Astolfo prolly won’t die.

Riche and Johann won’t die.

I really don’t want Dante to die, but I could see him dying either for his family (Johann and Riche) or for Vanitas. Oof.

And now, let’s get into some of the more morally ambiguous characters in the manga! As for Misha, I don’t think Misha will die— the only reason for his death would be if there’s absolutely no other way for Noé and Vanitas to deal with him than to kill him/ let him die. However, I also can’t think of a way for the Misha/ Exposition Universalle to end neatly unless Misha dies. What a paradox.

Ruthven will die. He has to. There’s no other way for the story to end. There’s a sliiiight possibility that Ruthven will somehow go through an extreme change of heart or something, but I really think to only question I have about his ending is whether he’ll die a redeemable or irredeemable character. He’s also the character I could see nearly any other character killing and having a logical reason for doing so? He’s finna die.

The Teacher will live. This might just be my own strange liking for the Teacher as a character but I think he’s too OP to do anything but survive. Also, in a less opinionated way— the Case Study of Vanitas as a whole is nothing but a collection of letters Noé has written to Teacher that he’s collected and added his own memories to, creating one case file created for Teacher. Noé could be doing this all for himself/ to fulfill the Teacher’s last request or something, but that seems a tad unlikely.

And that’s about it! I hope to do more of these prompts, but they may be a lil out of order from here on out. I haven’t included a few characters who seem important— particularly the Beastias, Manet and Nox, and Luna— mainly because we either just don’t know enough about them (first four) or we don’t even know if they’re alive in the first place (Luna). What do you think? Who will live and who will die in Vanitas no Carte?

[c0ffeebee]

harlos + 19 & 42

Summer Camp AU + The Big Damn Kiss

finally gotten to this ask and finally got an idea, it has nothing to do with d3 plot, so don’t worry

ok so it won’t be no magic modern world au, it would still be in the descendants universe and it would be like this cliche thing with 5 times they almost kiss and one time they really did it

when sea 3 comes to auradon it’s not the end of the senior year for core 4, they don’t graduate, they have another year left in school, so ben invites all of the vk’s to spent summer with him and his family in the palace

adam and belle basically go what the fuck and “oh no, not all summer, at least send them to summer camp for a month” and ben is like “yeah ok fine i’m going with them tho, i’m the king i can do what i want, i’m a kid also and i need a vacation, dad, you’re my regent, good luck to you all”

so all of them are in this camp, and the relationships between the most of them are pretty chill, but harry and carlos still have this strange tension and carlos is sometimes visibly annoyed by harry and etc. they tease each other constantly and not in a friendly way, not really

one time they all sit in boys’ cabin playing games like spin the bottle and truth or dare, and when carlos spins the bottle it actually points at harry and everyone in the room just goes “oh hell no”, but before anything happens some counselor walks in on this whole thing and like “the hell you doing here in the middle of the night, to your cabins, now”, and when they all leave carlos is sort of can’t stop thinking to himself that for a moment there he was actually ready to do it and that’s just weird

and then it’s something like:

they fighting during the sword practice and one of them pins the other to the ground and it’s somehow hot and ohmygod-so-awkward at the same time, and their faces are too close and carlos catches himself staring at harry’s lips and just goes “ok that’s getting too wierd now” and he just backs away like he got burned

then they (to annoyance of both) get paired up in some survival-themed activities like for instance they are both on a canoe and with constant fighting they manage to tipped it over and carlos can’t swim but is not wearing a vest for some reason, so harry basically saves him and is this || close to perform cpr when carlos wakes up coughing water and is all like, dude, why were you so close, were you just trying to kiss me, what the hell, and harry is too angry to even answer 

then one night they are sitting by the fire and carlos thanks harry for saving his life and everything and harry makes it all look like no big deal, they actually talk a lot that night calmly and without the usual snarky comments and at some point it seems like they might actually kiss, but then ben, jay and gil join them and yeah, the moment is totally ruined

the next time harry is actually catches carlos and basically snatches him away to somewhere private “to talk”, because uma had a deep conversation with him about how he is being obvious about his crush on carlos and how it’s painfull to watch, so he’s basically like “ok now or never”, and his guess would be never because right at the moment he wants to lean in, he hears dude’s voice with the “what are you guys doing here, everyone’s waiting for you by the river” or smth so yeah that fails too 

finally harry, being his wonderful self, managed to piss off snow white’s daughter (with good intentions, she was being a bitch to evie) and as a revenge she poisons him with some apple pie (cause she knows all about it thanks to evie’s mom), so harry is unconscious and the only question is how to break the spell, uma’s and mal’s magic don’t work and evie goes like “we need a true love kiss”, everyone is looking at uma waiting for her to do something about it and she goes “fine i will smooch this idiot, but we are FRIENDS, and dammit why is this stupid ‘true love’ nonsense only counts when it’s romantic love anyway??”, so she tries and no responce, and then she just looks at carlos and goes “why don’t you try it?“ 

carlos is embarrassed to say the least, and he goes wtf why me and everyone just looks soooo tired of his bullshit and uma goes “it’s either that or he may sleep forever, i don’t see people lining up, he’s not exactly the most lovable person”

carlos asks for some privacy ofc, but all he gets is just everyone turning their backs and looking away, and it’s still happening during lunch time in a big camp full of people with harry passed out on the grass and oh god how carlos regrets not kissing him that night they played spin the bottle, but he ends up kissing harry anyway, and of course as soon as he wakes up he tugs carlos closer for another kiss and it’s a lot more intense than carlos planned, but he’s not complaining until he realises their friends are sill here and the whole thing is too public and he pulls away while everyone basically laughing at them and saying something like “took you long enough”

i know the answer is long and it sounds cheesy, but here it is anyway)

Send me two (2) tropes from the list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Girl Genius Liveblog #217

UPDATE 217: HermitoyouscrewedupAgatha

Last time Agatha managed to do what many other people hadn’t done in the history of the Forbidden Library: she found Van Rijn’s secret laboratories. The Hermitorium! Will this place hold the secret to solve the situation at Mechanisburg? Let’s see!

As soon as they enter, the door closes behind them. No, it’s not Van Rijn having created a trap that’d imprison anyone in the Hermitorium and then self-destruct the place or anything like that. The Castle closed the door to stop anyone from going in and interrupt their exploration. Makes sense, everyone in this library would be so excited about this. Excited and kind of upset.

So apparently the Hermitorium was abandoned quite some time ago, but some systems seem to have been left active...doing something. Will it turn out he did leave a trap here? Also you can’t criticize the lights, trainbot, since when are you an expert in lights.

There’s a voice coming from somewhere, and given that there’s some stuff going on here in the Hermitorium, I’d be pretty wary of this. Better be careful. Seeing a chair, Agatha strolls forward.

Oh, golly, that sure is a dead person. Hmmm...would it be odd if I said my first thought is that this is Van Rijn? That he one day came to the library, locked himself into the Hermitorium, and sat down and...I don’t know, died from a heart attack or something? He may have come there because he knew he was going to die shortly?

Or maybe I should just shut up and keep reading, haha.

Since it turns out the corpse can’t have said anything, Agatha looks up and finds someone trapped in the big gourd-like thing hanging from the ceiling, a shadowy form. Agatha looks around and finds it familiar, somehow. Spurred by the figure’s apparently weakness, she hurries to restart or continue the experiment.

Agatha knew right away what needed to be done, and she even remarked it wasn’t because her spark skills let her know – it was more like she had seen it all before. Well there’s one other explanation, isn’t there? She got memories from the Other or something. I remember like two years ago I read Agatha flirting with Tarvek in a manner that was eerily similar to Lucrezia’s coyness. She may be affecting Agatha more than I’d like, really. Her way to yell ‘SILENCE’ is kind of bothering me, honestly.

Oh well. What’s done is done. Whatever Agatha just did was done successfully, and from inside the gourd, a flash emerges. The figure inside is...very pleased.

...ho hum. So that was a thing. I kiiiiind of have a feeling Agatha just created a whole world of trouble for herself. Will that thing inside the gourd be the antagonist of the next volume or something? Like Agatha has to go around trying to hunt it down? I mean, I’m absolutely certain there’s no way this won’t come to bite her in the rear later.

While Agatha stared at the space where that thing used to be, the library researcher had been at work, perusing books and journals, and finding out that thing was actually the Muse of Time. Really’ One of Tarvek’s muses was right here, trapped in the Hermitorium?

...well that’s going to be hard to tell him about, once he’s out of the time bubble. Sorry, Tarvek, we lost one of your muses. We cool?

Unlike the rest of the muses that were said to be created by Van Rijn, it seems the Muse of Time already existed, and he spent quite a while interacting with it and trying to capture it. Her, I guess. Hm, it’s possible he created the rest of the muses based on her? Either way, the Muse of Time kept appearing in front of him every once in a while, talking to him, taunting him. Charming.

Well, to be fair, his plan was working real well until a certain someone came along and set the Muse of Time free. Whooops. That’s some egg on your face, Agatha. Now you really will have to solve this. The problem is that it seems capturing the Muse was real difficult. If Van Rijn spent so long trying to capture it, and he was as brilliant as he was said to be, I imagine it won’t be easy for Agatha either.

Far, far away, Tarvek jolts awake at the feeling something awful has happened to one of his muses. Okay, haha, not really. He’s being awoken by Gil and Othar having pulled him out of the time bubble. He’s fine! Not dying! I hope so, at least. Vanamonde also got taken out of the bubble, so now he’ll be able to see Mechanisburg frozen in time for who knows how long. It sure must be awful, being responsible for a city’s wellbeing and being able to do nothing about it.

Oh, alright! Tarvek is going to get treatment for the poison Tweedle got into him. Another brush with death he’ll survive. Lucky him! In the meantime Bangladesh will just walk around and enjoy the sounds of that painful, painful treatment. It’s a good day to be Bangladesh.

The treatment is completed, and Tarvek is welcomed back into the world of the living and not time-compromised! But there’s the concern the poison or the stay in the time bubble has affected his brain and sanity. Are you alright, Tarvek?

He’s definitely okay, if a little verbose. What’s all that speech, Tarvek, take it easy! Haha! But yeah, since he asked where Agatha is and how long it has been since he was frozen, I can only assume in ten minutes or so he’ll go outside running to try to find Agatha by himself, without Gil.

Also, Gil really should get some sleep, geez.

That’s enough for now!

Next time: in two updates

[cynnymonsnaps]

Let the Tides of Change Come

Part 1

Pairing(s): Carlos de Vil/Jane/Oc, Ben/Mal, Evie/Doug, Gil/Jay

Word Count: 2,062

Summary: Sometimes the power to rewrite things comes in the form of jumping right into the Descendants universe and giving everyone a piece of your mind.

Doug’s stereotypical nerdy band kid shtick? Out the window it goes. The adults not knowing how to do anything right? Not on my watch. Kids being stuck on a prison of an Island? You’re all coming with me now.

For Micha, they’ve taken on the grueling task of heading to the surface to help teach the kids of Auradon and the Isle that it’s okay to talk things out and to not give into the rules and expectations of the older generation.Will someone at least give these teens a moment to breath in between saving the kingdom please? Jesus.

A/N: A few notes before we get into things: "Michael" is pronounced "MI-kha-ehl" "Micha" is pronounced "MI-kha" and "Marius" is pronounced "MA-ree-oos"

Having been a long way from any civilization, it took a while for Micha and the stranger (whose name they found out was Marius) to maneuver through all the vegetation and ruins. It seemed that because the Atlanteans were so focused on surviving they never truly stepped out of their city limits and stayed within its walls. Which, Marius remarked, was the reason why the two of them had ventured out so far initially; to search for any other clues behind their people’s past and possibly find more resources.

While the two moved along (albeit very slowly as Micha were getting slightly distracted by everything around them.) Micha had come to some conclusions:

The first thing was that they would take on the name of “Michael”. Or as Marius had called them, “Micha” for short. It’d be easier to take on a new name instead of trying to convince others that they were someone else. And seeing how they were stuck in this body for however long, they’d need to get used to the name change.

The second thing they found was that though they’ve never actually worked out in their previous life, the muscle memory for their current body was strong. Whenever it came to dangerous ledges or crumbling stones, they were able to instinctively get over any obstacle in their way. Climbing rock walls was easy without having to breaking a sweat. And if they wanted to, they could have gone up a couple flights of stairs with the energy they had left. Just from feeling the firmness of muscle on their body showed how often the previous Micha probably exercised. It was kind of scary, not gonna lie.

It was like they were thrown straight into a storybook. One where the main character got transported into a new body in a whole different universe. Which was kind of cool but also made them question a few things like: Where did the original soul go? Did they switch bodies when they were underwater nearly drowning? Did Micha straight up die in their sleep like all the other protagonists? Was this just an Atlantis plotline or some sort of weird Disney multiverse universe? How did all this work anyway?!

All these questions ran through their mind like race cars on a track crashing and swerving into each other. Just trying to pick them out from each other gave Micha a huge headache. So, they decided it was best to not think about it anymore and just kept their eyes on the trail. For now, it was best to decide what they were going to do from here on out. Lightly scratching their chin, they began to think of what others did in similar scenarios. Ah yes. What would that one anime protag do?

“Would you stop acting like a dazed fool? We’re here.” Marius called out to them. Snapping out of their stupor they hadn’t realized they had even passed into the city. They really needed to start paying attention to their surroundings.

Looking up, they saw Marius standing in front of a pair of doors. On the door there was a large engraved spiral going outwards from the center with door handles that were stone carved heads. Though it looked to be worn down with age, you remembered it that same exact door leading to the throne room in the movie. There were even guards standing next to the door who weren’t telling the two of them to go away. Not understanding why they were there, Micha gave Marius a weird look. Was he some sort of hot shot or something to be able to go to the throne room? But he said they were going “to Mother and Father.” Wait. Did that mean he was a part of the royal family? Were they a part of the royal family? Are they even siblings?

With no further explanations Marius nodded to the guards to open the door. He righted himself and stood with his arms behind his back like some sort of official. Not knowing what to do exactly Micha stood beside him awkwardly. “Stand up straight. It’s not good to slouch in front of the King and Queen.” He chided them, not even looking their way as he did so. They could only roll their eyes and did as he said, trying to push away the slight anxious feeling down in their gut.

With the doors fully opened, Marius sauntered in. Micha on the other hand, couldn’t help but lag behind to take in the wonder of the throne room. “Mother. Father. We’re back.” He went to formally bow but was stopped by a man with an American accent.

"You know you don't need to be so stiff with us, right?" The American called in a teasing tone, coming closer to the two of them. Before them was Milo Thatch who didn’t look a day over 30. He was still lanky like before, but they could see he had grown some amount of muscle required to live here in Atlantis. "My own son, bowing down before me. Come on! Give your old man a hug." He stood Infront of Marius with his arms spread wide, a warm smile on his face. Marius looked like he wanted to resist, but Milo’s smile was too bright, he could only hesitate before slowly sinking into his father’s arms with a face full of embarrassment. Micha almost let out a laugh at the sight, but the daggers sent their way made them look away like they hadn’t seen anything.

Without anything really to look at, their eyes naturally landed on the older yet still charming Kida Nedakh. She hadn’t seemed to age as much either and retain much of her beauty. It felt like there was more of a mature aura around her now, and her hair had grown past her waist. She hadn’t lost the gleam of adventure in her eyes, but her posture told them that she had many years of knowledge under her belt. It must have been the magic of the crystal. Since it helped the Atlanteans be near immortal it must have cause them to physically age at a much slower rate as the years went by.

Kida was so beautiful that when she went to chuckle at the two men, Micha actually felt themselves blush. Feeling flustered they immediately looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact. For people they once thought were fictional, the couple were pretty breath taking to look at. It felt kind of wrong to look at them both for too long. How were you supposed to talk to breath taking people? Heck! How were you supposed to talk to breath taking heroes who were once cartoons? Oh god this was starting to get to real. Reality was starting to crash into them. They took in a shaky breath and held their head to try to regain some sort of ground.

"Michael?" Kida’s smooth voice called above them, bringing them back. Before they had realized it, Kida had made her way in front of them, a look of concern on her face. Usually when the two children would come into the throne room, Micha would always jump in at the prospect of Marius’ embarrassment and join in on the fun. It was odd that they were just standing there looking like they were out of sorts. It worried Kida a bit. “Is there something wrong my dear?”

Realizing their probably out of character behavior, they straightened themselves out and quickly shook their head. They didn’t want to speak out loud incase they’d say something else out of character. Though that probably wasn’t hard because who knew what the previous Micha was like before.

At Micha’s sudden muteness, Milo unwrapped his arms from Marius and went to kneel in front of them. “Are you feelin’ alright pumpkin? Usually you can’t wait to jump on your brother.” He reached to touch their shoulder, but the quick moment had Micha stepping back a bit. Not knowing what he did, Milo looked to be a little hurt by their action. They cursed at themself. Milo was a good guy, but Micha was just thrown into a whole new world with strangers that they didn’t know, and they weren’t really feeling touchy feely right now.

"I…" Micha began. They tried to find some way to explain themselves. Something to possibly relieve the tension, but things were coming up blank.

Seeing their troubles, Marius spoke up, “Michael almost drowned themselves today at the cove.” When the couple gasped in shock he further explained, “There was nothing wrong with them physically. However, they have been acting strange ever since.” Of course, he had to make the situation worse. What did they expect? Since they’ve first met, he’s only been a jerk to them and now, he had to open his big dumb mouth. They gave him a dirty look, hoping it could somehow beat him over the head or something.

Before Micha could look back to see the older couple’s reaction, they were suddenly embraced and cradled like a baby. Kida pulled back enough to try and find any injuries while Milo took to crying in their ear about the thought of his child almost drowning. “Oh, my baby! That must have been horrible! Daddy’s so sorry you had to go through that!” He whaled as his embrace tightened.

“Please… let go.” They squeezed out.

Not hearing them, Milo proceeded to only hug them tighter. So much so that their face started turning blue. Thank god Kida smacked him over the head to let them go or else they would have popped like a balloon. “Can’t you see that they’re suffocating? Let go already.” Realizing his mistake, he gave an awkward laugh and let go.

He stood up besides the two and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry. Force of habit.” Kida gave him a nod and brought Micha closer to her, rubbing small circles in their back as they gathered their breath.

“No Father. Do go on. I don’t think Micha’s been squished enough.”

“Well if you say it like that, I’d have to say someone else needs more hugs than Micha right now.”

“I prefer to disagree.”

“Aw come on. Not even for your pops?”

“Especially for you, your highness.”

“So cold.”

“Enough you two.”

With all the chaos going around them, Micha didn’t know where to focus exactly. The Nedakh family were so comfortable with each other that they could bounce off each other like pin balls. It made it hard for them to try to interject. They had questions that needed to be answered, and though this little family back and forth was funny, they needed the information now. With renewed confidence they shot out a question on top of their head.

“Are… Are you guys my family?"

…

Oh my god! Micha smacked themselves in the head. Really? The one question to start out with and that was the one they just had to pick? Fuuuck! I’m so screwed.

While Micha was screaming at themselves silently, they hadn’t noticed the room fall silent. It wasn’t until Milo threw his hands up in hysteria that they noticed.

“Oh my god! They don’t remember us! What are we going to do?!?” The room filled with his panic like the world was coming to an end. He grabbed onto Marius and began shaking him wildly back and forth as he dissolved into crazy ramblings. Being the unfortunate victim of his father’s chaos, Marius tried to calm him down but was thrown here and there by Milo’s mysterious strength.

Ignoring the commotion behind the two of them, Kida knelt down on her knees and gently touched Micha’s shoulders. She searched their eyes for something. When she couldn’t seem to find it, her face melted into something of concern and something else that was unreadable.

"Do you really not remember who we are?"

There was something in Kida’s clear blue eyes that made them want to tell the truth, but at the same time they couldn’t. There was no way of telling how all of them would react. What if they thought Micha was some sort of crazy person? Would they be locked up forever because of it? Of course, they knew that Kida and Milo were at least going to hear them out, but would they actually believe a small child?

Micha’s expression scrunched more and more with all the heavy thoughts weighing down their mind. They were so lost in what to do. And they had only just came to this world not even an hour ago.

Seeing the intensity in their face, Kida squeezed their shoulders to get their attention again. She brushed a stray hair behind their ear and without missing a beat she looked them in the eyes and gave the gentlest smile. “Whatever is on your mind. I will listen. Anything you have to say, I will not judge you for it.” The words filled Micha with warmth. Kida was trying to reassure them, and it was somewhat working. Her touch seemed to ground them, calming their nerves and helped them drown out everything else.

Kida and Milo believed in each other to find the truth. And when they found it, they protected it with everything they had. The two of them wouldn’t judge a person just because they said some improbable things and would absolutely listen to them all the way through. Not to mention if Micha wanted to get through this whole situation, these two were probably the best help they could get.

Micha only hesitated for a second longer before gathering up all the courage they had. With tightly clenched hands, they began. “Have you ever heard of reincarnation?”

There was a confusion in Kida’s eyes. It didn’t occur to them that with the crystals help, their people had rarely died out and tended to live for long periods of time. So of course, she had never heard about reincarnation before. In their effort to try to explain it somehow to the older woman they hadn’t realized that things had gotten quiet around them.

"You mean like a rebirth of a soul into a new body?" Milo interjected, suddenly kneeling down besides Kida to join in on the conversation. There was an unseen sparkle in his eye.

Give it to the man who’s a linguist, cartographer, and plumber to also know philosophical concepts. Micha nodded their head, glad to know at least someone knew about what they were talking about.

"Father I don't understand." Marius called behind the two.

"Well, it's a philosophical and religious concept that non-physical essence of a living being starts a new life in a different physical form or body after biological death." Milo began, turning to Marius like he was an audience member. "It's a central tenet of Indian religions, namely Jainism, Buddhism, Sikhism and Hinduism, although there are Hindu groups that don’t believe in reincarnation but believe in an afterlife." God it was like he was a Wikipedia article listing off all the information like a machine. Before he could completely lose himself in his history lesson, Kida cleared her throat to bring him back on track. He coughed awkwardly and faced Micha again, giving them a somewhat serious look. Behind his glasses they could see the scholarly look he had and there was something else behind it too. "Usually reincarnation happens after death, but there have been cases of near-death experiences triggering some sort of past life memories."

It took Kida a bit to catch on, but as she pieced things together her eyes slowly drew back to Micha. A look of astonishment crossed her features. "So, Michael almost drowning-"

"Could have been the trigger for such a thing to an occur, yes." Milo finished.

Marius frowned. "That would explain the amnesia and personality difference."

Giving then all a moment to figure it all out, Micha couldn't help but be surprised on how well they all were taking it. Granted Milo was an exception because he was a history nerd and he liked going deeper into unsolved theories. But they couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. The whole thing about transmigration was that the original host had to die for them to use the previous owner’s body. Meaning they had basically lost their own flesh and blood and was now met with a stranger wearing their skin. Just the thought of it all made them feel sick to their stomach.

"Micha, my sweet child." Kida called to them, pulling them into her arms with a warm embrace. The sudden hug gave them a start and on reflex their whole body stiffened. As you've probably guessed, they were never one for close contact. Whether or not that was the social awkwardness from their previous life or just the fact that they were guilt stricken, they just didn't know. Though the longer they were in her arms, the more they seemed to relax. It didn't even take two minutes before they just accepted it and leaned into Kida's touch. "No matter who you are, whoever memories you possess, or whoever you feel like being, I will always love you to the absolute core." She held them with a delicate firmness, careful to let them break free whenever they wanted to but still showing that she wanted to be as close as possible. She was so close in fact, that they could smell the remnants of the sea in her hair mixed in with a dull scent of bitter incense. She had been nothing but kind to them since they've shown up and it really moved them. They could hear the sincerity in her words as they hit their heart. All in all, it almost made Micha want to hug her back. And they did. They slowly yet surely snaked their arms around her waist and returned her hug, earning them a soft chuckle from the older woman.

"Yeah! It won't change the fact that you're our little troublemaker. And heck we'll just have to spend more time with each other to get to know one other better." Milo cheered as he ruffled their hair. At the amazed look they gave him, he laughed and gave them a quick side squeeze before wrapping his arm around Kida's waist.

Milo and Kida shared a look before they turned their attention to Marius, who was staying in the back with his arms crossed. It wasn’t surprising he was distant. He was the closest in age to the original “Micha” and probably spent the most time with them before the incident. To his stand-offish attitude, Milo and Kida began a physic chat with him through only their eyes. It wasn't until he gave a heavy sigh that they knew he had lost. He came over and knelt in front of Micha, putting his finger right on their forehead. "You may not have been "Micha" before, but you are "Micha" now. We're family now and will be for a long time." He pushed his finger hard enough on their forehead to make a mark and chuckled when Micha grumbled in pain. He looked away triumphantly when his mother gave a scolding look. Even though the poke had hurt a lot, Micha couldn’t help the smile that spread across their face. They didn't want to admit it but right from the beginning he had already acted like their big brother through and through. Just the thought made them burst out in laughter.

Their laugh was infectious and soon everyone was laughing along, filling the atmosphere with a relaxing warmth. Micha took the opportunity to look at each of their family members, taking them in. It felt right to let them into their walls. The journey was quite a hard one, and maybe just maybe they could get through it okay with their family by their side.

When the laughter died down Milo gave an excited grin, holding out his hand for Micha to take. “Now that we’ve got things straighten out, how about we go sit down and talk more? We could even show you around to get used to the scenery and everything!”

Micha gave one look at his hand and grinned. Grabbing on with a firm grip, they looked up at him smiling ear to ear. “Let’s go Dad.”

One couldn’t hear it, but Milo’s heart seemed to explode from the cuteness that was Micha. He couldn’t help but cover his chest and take a breath before slowly leading them off. The others following close behind.

[bisexualstokes-archive]

Atrophy (6/7)

Chapter (6/7): Lucky Rating: Teen+ (For: Language, Graphics Depictions of Violence) Summary: An old friend returns, to wake Nick from a terrible nightmare. Chapter Notes:  @letswaitforme, @deltajackdalton,@impossiblepluto,@mutatedsilverunicorn,@12percentplan,@telltaleclerk…idk, who else wants to be tagged in updates of this fic?? lemme know ;)

Previous Chapter | Read on ao3

“Let’s begin at the beginning, Greg. How did you find the house?”

Overexposed lighting, overly clean surfaces, beeps and shouts and screams. He would hate it--he once confided to his friend, that he hated hospitals.

“Greg?”

The poor guy, probably terrified enough as it is. Second time being in the hospital within months.

“Greg, are you listening to me?”

The buzzing and bustling, the hovering, the constant pokes and prods and questions. It almost made him claustrophobic.

“Greg!”

A hand on his shoulder firmly pressed the fabric of Greg’s shirt. Not as firm as Nick’s grasp was, but enough to summon Greg Sanders back into his body. His fingers fumbled on the edges of his shirt, screams and cries reverberated in his head.

“Where did you go? Sara said you and her were in the garage, examining Nick’s car--”

“Car, right. Yeah, we, uh, we were processing Nick’s car. Nothing out of the ordinary, but we noticed his kit wasn’t there, nor any evidence from the scene. There was security cam footage from across the street that showed a woman exit Nick’s vehicle--well, presumably--and draw some cash from an ATM, then she got a cab and vanished. We had nothing, for a while, though I’m sure you know that. Then, somebody called my phone with a voice modulator, told me they had a lead but would only meet me in private--”

“Don’t tell me--”

“I was gonna call for backup, it’s just--”

“I expect something like this out of Nick, but you, Greg? Who knows what could have happened--”

“I found him, didn’t I?” Greg snapped. A look of shock blossomed on Catherine’s face. Greg’s face fell, this sudden outburst was out of character for him, but it was hard to shake off the rage towards the psycho that reduced Nick to the man he found in the closet. It was hard to shake off the shock, that something like this could happen to somebody so close to him. It was hard to think that Nick has been through so much in the last eleven years, that somehow he’s found the strength to hold on, when everything and everyone is telling them that he shouldn’t be alive.

Their attention moved from each other to the man on the other side of the glass, lying in a hospital bed, unconscious. Sara was sitting next to him, held his hand. Catherine sniffled, then walked into the room, Greg followed behind.

Greg stood at the foot of the bed, as Catherine pulled up a stool on the other side of the bed. Nick looked peaceful in his restful state, but Greg could still hear the man’s screams and sobs ring out in his mind, as his body was moved onto a stretcher.

“It’s okay, Nick, they’re taking you to the hospital,” Greg had told him, after making the mistake of taking his hand away from Nick’s. A connection, one that Greg would never fully understand Nick’s need for, severed.

“No! No hospital! Mmm fine...Need to...find...Greg…”

“I’m here, man, I’m right here.”

“He’s buh-buried...need to...dig him up...Mahaha--arshhhhhhh too…”

A sedative, Nick had screamed so loudly as the needle was pushed into his skin. Greg wondered if Nick had been shot with one of the darts found on the bed. As they brought Nick out of the house, Greg could only think about collecting a tox sample, to see what he had been drugged with, to cause a reaction to the sedative so violent he had nearly punched the poor paramedic.

“Ray processing the scene?” Sara asked in a hushed voice, not that Nick would be able to hear them anyway.

“No, I got someone from swing--Ronnie Lake,” Catherine replied, her eyes on Nick.

“Good. Ronnie’s good.” Sara gulped down something, a light layer of tears glimmered in her eyes. Greg wanted to move to her, offer some comfort, but found his hands glued to the end of the hospital bed.

It was different, when Nick had gotten shot. They were all worried, sure, but when they found out he was awake, conscious, demanding pizza and cracking jokes, they knew that he was at least somewhat okay--they hadn’t heard about the details of the shooting right away, all they cared about was Nick, and even when they did, Nick had just jumped right back into work, seemed okay, seemed like his normal self. Maybe that’s why Greg had neglected Nick’s state of mind at the funeral explosion, elected to just help Nick get dressed into a spare change of clothes, get cleaned up, instead of goading him back to the hospital as Catherine had commanded.

Maybe it was selfish, to take that for granted, to not pay more attention, because what if Nick was indulging in the same reckless behavior that had nearly gotten him killed after Warrick was? He could have been triggered by the loss of another member of law enforcement--even if Officer Clark wasn’t part of their team, per se, Nick wore his heart on his sleeve, the guilt complex was apparent. What if he had walked headfirst into this situation? It was hard to tell if the signs of struggle in the bedroom were from the original crime scene, or from any sort of struggle Nick would have put up. They would have to wait for him to wake up to find out what really happened.

“Willows? Catherine Willows?”

A doctor entered the room, nudged Greg aside to pick up Nick’s chart.

“We’ve already contacted Gil Grissom, the other emergency contact, but were told that you were here on site. I see you found the place all right.”

An attempt to lighten the mood, put a smile on their sullen faces. He must have good news, else, he’s trying to ease the pain of his news.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t our first rodeo,” Catherine told him. Nick would have laughed at that.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that Nick’s going to be just fine. He’ll be sore for a few days, has a broken hand, and will be sporting a new scar on his chest, but it could have been much worse. After decontamination, there’s also no side-effects apparent from the tetrodotoxin, either. Most patients survive that, if they didn’t, uh,” The doctor coughed. Greg noticed how young he was, how green. “Succumb to the more harmful effects.”

“Tetrodotoxin, the paralyzing agent?” Sara asked in a hoarse voice. “Was he…?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to him to find out, but with the high dosage he was given, it’s a miracle he’s even still here. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t have been fully lucid. In fact, I’m shocked he’s not in a coma, most patients usually fall into one, if they survive.”

Greg’s heart had stopped at the mere idea of Nick being fully aware of what was happening to him--with the nonsense he seemed to speak at the house, he hoped that perhaps it was some sort of fever dream, hallucination.

And then, he remembered the phone call.

“Doctor…” he cleared his throat, didn’t even want to consider the possibility, but the question had to be raised. “Was there any signs of...of seh…”

His voice cracked, trailed off before he could even finish the word. Catherine had removed her gaze from Nick to look at Greg with a widened gaze, a realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

“No.” The doctor responded, quickly, shortly. He didn’t seem too fond of the idea, either. “No, there weren’t in our examinations.”

The young doctor also cleared his throat, looked back to the chart.

“He’ll be staying overnight for observation, given a prescription for some painkillers, but he should be able to go home in no time.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Catherine muttered, her eyes falling back onto Nick.

The doctor left the room, and Greg resumed his watch over Nick, who still seemed to be asleep.

“So...Grissom’s his emergency contact?” Greg asked with a small chuckle, breaking the silence. He became aware of the fact that Nick wouldn’t quite like being under the watch of so many eyes, removed his gaze to stare at the floor.

Sara chuckled back. A smile cracked on Catherine’s face.

“Yeah, guess so. Said he was gonna change it, after the restaurant shooting. Guess he didn’t think he’d need to, so soon.”

The resumed their shared silence, waiting. Waiting for Nick to flutter his eyes open, demand a pizza or a beer. Waiting for some sign that even though the doctor said he’d be able to go home soon, that truly, he would be able to go home soon. Waiting for an indication that he would be okay, he’d be back to normal. Waiting for Nick Stokes, the mountain of strength that he is, to wake from his slumber.

They would be waiting for a while.

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

Lucky. If he had a nickel for every time he heard the phrase “he’s lucky to be alive,” he would be able to retire from the Las Vegas Crime Lab by now.

He was lucky that Grissom came and saved him from that terrified woman with a gun.

He was lucky that the glass just barely missed his neck, that the fall from the window didn’t injure him any more. He was lucky that Brass and his squad showed up when they did, lest Nick witness his house from becoming any more of a horrific crime scene.

He was lucky that he was given a fan. Funnily enough, he was even lucky that he shot the damn light, that the ants came pouring into the box, because if they didn’t, he would still be six feet under. He was lucky that Hodges just happened to call right before the lid was opened. He was lucky that Grissom’s plan worked, and that he was above ground.

He was lucky that he was only shot in the shoulder, though one bullet was dangerously close to his heart.

He was lucky that he had stood his ground where he did, that the van’s door didn’t hit him as an explosion sent shock waves through the air.

But luck isn’t what Nick would use to describe the outcome of his survival against Veronica. She never intended for him to die, not really. He was her favorite toy, after all. She wasn’t going to give him up that easily.

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

The sound of a cane woke Greg up from a standing slumber, two canes, two Doctors, accompanied by a third person that made Greg think he hadn’t woken up, and that he was still dreaming about a screaming man chained in a closet, who was oddly silent, though physically struggling.

“Ran into a friend downstairs,” Ray announced as he, Grissom and Doc Robbins all entered the room.

“Gil?” Sara asked, hopping up from her seat, though she didn’t let go of Nick’s hand. Grissom walked over, embraced his wife, planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Got the first flight that I could, but I can’t stay long. How is he?”

“Not...entirely sure, he hasn’t woken up yet,” Catherine said, walking over to plant her hand on Grissom’s shoulder. “I’m...gonna go call his parents.”

Grissom nodded, looked to Nick. He placed his hand on Sara’s on Nick’s. A feeling fluttered up Greg’s chest, hope. Grissom was here, so Nick would definitely be okay.

“Any idea who…?”

“No. House was registered to a ‘Gertrude Ortollins,’ we’ve got an APB on her now. Hey, Gil, good to see you,” Brass replied, entering the room.

“Jim,” Grissom acknowledged, shaking Brass’ hand with his free one.

“How’d it go with Marsh’s family?”

“About as well as it did with Clark’s. How’s Nicky?” Brass asked, wiping his face with his hand.

“Still sleeping.”

An exasperated sigh, laden with worry.

“Sanders, you--you were at the house, what did you see, what happened?”

All eyes on Greg, and he felt a bead of sweat on his forehead. The details were, in fact, hazy, but he told them what he remembered anyway.

“Went to the house, found a bedroom, Nick was in the closet, and he was, uhm...heavily drugged--paralyzed, I guess--Something knocked me out, and when I woke up, there were darts on a bed and Nick was half-free. He kept saying ‘dig him up,’ and I-I thought maybe he was talking about…But he wasn’t and now we’re here.”

“No sign of the person who knocked you out? Male or female?”

Brass grabbed Greg by the shoulders, shook him a little, drilled him into the ground with questions. He pulled a picture out from his pocket, a crime scene photo.

“Do you recognize this? See it anywhere in the house?”

It was a picture of a body, dressed up in Nick’s vest, surrounded by evidence tags, markers, his kit, his gun. The man’s eyes were wide open, glazed over. A word, written in marker--”STOKES” with the “O” acting as a bulls-eye, a dart lodged right in the center.

“Take it easy, Jim, we’re all a bit worked up--”

“Zip it, Langston!” Brass snapped. Grissom and Sara tore away from Nick, sensed that the detective had reached a boiling point.

“Ray, let’s go get some coffee,” Doc Robbins muttered, nudging Ray out of the room.

The dust in the air settled, once Brass heaved another heavy sigh.

“I should...I should go apologize,” he muttered, and left the room. He left the picture on the floor, Greg picked it up and put it back on the bed.

Greg, Sara and Grissom were all left in isolation and silence, a trio that had not worked together for years, and yet, it felt like nothing had changed at all. A feeling of togetherness, in their silence, as they continued their watch over Nick Stokes, a man they all loved in different ways.

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

Birds. Birds were flying above him, chattering away, not a care in the world. No particular destination, just the air beneath their wings, a light feeling in their chests. Circling the air...or, were they circling him?

His body, sprawled on the ground, a bird who fell from the sky. He felt small, so small in comparison to the winged creatures above him, to the large shovel that was balancing his broken body.

“Aw, you poor thing.” A voice cooed at him. A giant woman loomed above him, looked down on him. “I’m gonna keep you.”

The shovel propelled his body into the air, he was unable to move his limbs, fell haphazardly into the woman’s hand like a rag doll. She poked and prodded at him, stuck a needle into him. And then another. And another. Perhaps his body was somewhere else, feeling the pain she was inflicting on him. This body was nothing, just a lifeless toy.

“You’re mine,” the woman kept whispering to him, petting his chest with a single finger, applying particular pressure to his scars. All clothing was gone--he felt so naked, so embarrassed.

She brought him into a house, the wallpapers were continuous streams of crime scene tape. The house was silent, except for the shuttering click of a camera. Camera flashes were the only source of light.

“Oops!”

His body rolled out of her hand, onto the ledge of a staircase. With the tip of her foot, she nudged his body forward, and he tumbled down a seemingly endless amount of stairs. He couldn’t feel the pain, as his limbs flailed around, as his head finally came to an impact with a clear, glass surface. The bottom of the stairs landed him into a box, a glass coffin...no, not into, above. He landed on top of the body of Officer Marsh.

The sound of a phone ringing, a voice picking up. His voice, talking to Greg.

“Hey, man, sorry, I can’t make it to breakfast.”

“What? Why? What the hell is wrong with you, Nick? Then again, I figured as much, you’re such a shitty friend. Don’t even know why I even said yes when you asked me.”

He wanted to scream, tell Greg about the man in the box beneath him. To warn him, not to go looking for Nick.

“You know, first you send Officer Clark to the back in that restaurant, and now you sent Marsh down a flight of stairs? Down to the ground, buried alive? Do you even remember what that felt like, Nick? How it felt to be struggling for air, struggling against six walls, just inches from your body, unable to move? He’ll die by asphyxiation, alright, but it’ll be post burial. Unlike you. You always survive, when the people that should...don’t.”

Click. Flash. His body rose up, dangled by something tight around his wrists.

“You’ve been a very bad doll,” the woman whispered to him. “It’s time for your punishment.”

He was carried to a dollhouse, an exact scale model of the house he was currently in--if he had a heart, it would have stopped, the miniature killer was back, was going to go after Sara again, or worse, maybe everyone again.

But this woman wasn’t Natalie Davis, this was Veronica...a woman with no last name. Nothing to set her apart, nothing to identify her as anything other than Nick’s “owner.” He might as well get used to calling her that.

Discordant music was playing, some stupid song he would hate for the rest of his life, mixed with a song he once sang to himself, during an extended period of torture, to keep his sanity. A futile effort, now, his sanity flew away with the rest of the birds.

She split the house apart effortlessly, located in the bedroom, there was a closet, with an attachment for the chain that she was holding him by. She attached his body to it, closed the door, then closed the house. A large eye peeked into the window, watched him, for minutes...for hours...for days? Maybe even years. The eye left, a camera lens took its place.

Then, it began to rain.

Tiny birds flew like darts against the window, he could just barely see corpses smash against the window and slide down.

And then, one big corpse hit against the window, dead center. Bulls-eye. It wasn’t a bird, it was Greg Sanders.

“Another broken toy, ready to be buried.”

He wanted to scream, he didn’t care what happened to him, his life was meaningless, he served no purpose other than to please Veronica, none of that really mattered, so long as Greg was safe.

“Dig him up!” he cried out, pleading, the puppet finally had a voice.

“Nicky?”

“DIG HIM UP!” at the top of his lungs, all energy expelled from his body, but a shock brought him back to life, as he opened his eyes and saw Gil Grissom sitting next to him.

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

Nick had woken up unceremoniously, his eyes had fluttered open, just as Greg thought they would. They all encouraged a charming smile to spread onto his face by showing them their own, it worked, his eyes lit up and his lips spread apart, curving slightly upward.

“Greg,” he croaked. “Sorry I...missed breakfast.”

“It’s okay, call it a rain check.”

He groaned, twisted his body a little.

“What...What happened? How long have I been out?" he added, after seeing Grissom next to him.

Greg’s mouth gaped open in shock, he had not expected those words, out of someone who seemed to be in a conscious state of mind at the scene of the crime.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Sara asked.

“I...I was at a crime scene? I turned around, and...woke up here,”

Greg held up the picture.

“You don’t know anything about this?”

Nick stared at the picture for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face, his brows furrowed down, a glimmer of something shone in his eyes.

“Nuh...No.”

Grissom had been staring intently at Nick the whole time, his head cocked to one side. 

“Greg, Sara...could you give us a minute?”

Maybe this is all a bit overwhelming…

Greg and Sara nodded, left the room in a mutual agreement that Grissom would get the answers. A mostly impartial third party, who hadn’t been there, for the past two years.

Greg was hopeful again, that maybe Nick was just hazy from the sedation, that Grissom would be able to talk to him, get at least some of the story while it was still fresh in Nick’s head. They gave the pair their privacy, Grissom had closed the blinds after they had left the room. Catherine rejoined them, Sara filled her in on what happened. Catherine knocked on the door, but didn’t enter.

Grissom came out, almost an hour later, with reddened eyes, immediately embraced Sara.

“Well? What did he say?” Catherine asked, peering into the room through the crack in the door.

Grissom looked up at her, a solemn expression on his face, as he held onto Sara’s hand.

“He doesn’t remember anything.”

[ramblingandpie]

Gen, 1348 words.

---

Emails from Addison were always about something either really good or really bad, and somehow, Addison never gave it away ahead of time.

But Ryder had to bring the crew to the Nexus anyway, and Addison would be nigh unavoidable. She just hoped it would be something good.

As she approached Addison's office, the women's expression was as serious as ever. "Ryder," she said. "I'm glad you were able to come quickly. I know the email said it wasn't urgent, but I like to get things done when they come to my attention."

Ryder still had no clue if something good or bad had happened.

"We have news from Prodromos that their agriculture program is going quite well. They are producing enough that they are ready to take the next step."

Oh! Good news, then.

"They are going to celebrate with a fair, and I would like you to bring the Tempest to deliver the guests of honor."

Ok. Bigwigs on the Tempest. Bad news.

"We brought several hundred viable chicken eggs aboard and have thawed a few dozen from cryo. They are in a special incubator that does everything until they hatch."

Baby chickens! Eggs that would require no maintenance, even! Good news.

"That's great news," Ryder said. "We'll make sure they get safe to Eos."

"And you'll also be guests of honor at the fair, of course. I understand they're going to have some carnival games. Try to have some fun." The tone in her voice belied a complete unfamiliarity with the concept.

By the time Ryder got back to the Tempest, the cargo hold had been loaded with the incubators, which were hooked into local power. Gil, Suvi, and Liam were admiring the bounty.

"We're going to have chickens again!" Suvi happily announced as Ryder came in.

Gil laughed. "She won't stop, Ryder."

"Can you blame her?" Liam asked. "Delicious little beasts."

"They're great for terraforming, too," Suvi said. "They eat just about everything. Their manure is great for the plants. I can see why they decided to have chickens as our first livestock."

"And," Liam chimed in, "super delicious."

Gil nodded.

"I, for one," Ryder said, "am interested to see these carnival games that Addison mentioned."

The group nodded in agreement.

PeeBee came in and pressed her nose to the glass. "So these are the chickens you all keep talking about?"

"Yep," Ryder replied.

"How long until we get to eat them?"

"About six months," Suvi replied. The translators they used automatically converted it to the time system PeeBee had grown up with.

"And the… eggs? You eat the eggs, right?"

"Also six months."

PeeBee sighed. "Why can't we just eat these ones? I mean. Not all of them. Just a few."

Gil laughed. Suvi patiently explained about eating only unfertilized eggs, and these were all definitely fertilized.

When Suvi finished, Liam announced, "So basically it looks like meat's back on the menu!"

Gil raised an eyebrow at him. Liam sighed. “Man, you all really need to watch the classics. Ryder, is it too late to turn back around and pick up some more films?”

That earned him a light punch to the shoulder from nearly everyone involved.

*** They were one day out from Eos when SAM rang the alert.

One of Addison’s assistants had warned them that they weren’t exactly sure how thawing from cryo might affect the incubation period. It turned out to be well-deserved.

“C’mon, Kallo,” Suvi said. “Put her on auto. You’re the one with the most experience on eggs.”

He sighed. “I hatched from one. That’s it.”

“But you remember it, right?”

“Yes.”

“So c’mon!”

She practically dragged him to the incubators.

Cracks were beginning to form on a few of the shells. Suvi began unpacking the temperature-controlled brood boxes.

“Okay,” she announced to Kallo and to the others who had begun to filter in. “We let them hatch on their own. Tempting as it is, no touching. They have to dry off first. Liam, Jaal, help me get this out of the crate.”

“Wait. How do you know so much about hatching chickens?” Ryder asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The alarm had clearly woken her up.

“Did anyone read the instructions? Honestly. Lexi, tell me you read the instructions,” Suvi pleaded as Lexi came in.

“And several books while we were in transit,” Lexi said, as she began to fiddle with the uncrated brood box. Suvi brought Liam and Jaal over to the next crate to begin opening it.

“Also, my parents did a ton of science experiments with us when we were kids. We did a few rounds of chickens and ducks.”

“So why did you need my help?” Kallo asked, arms outstretched in the universal gesture of uselessness.

“I didn’t know who else would come, and these things are awful heavy. Plus, this is the best part. Everyone quiet for a minute.”

A hush fell over the room except for the tiny peep peep noises coming from the incubator.

“They’re calling the other chicks.”

Lexi nodded. “Hearing the other chicks cues the ones still in eggs to begin hatching.”

Suvi’s cheeriness did perk the crew up, and soon enough everyone around was taking turns working on the brood boxes, and checking on the chicks from time to time.

“I wasn’t expecting them to be quite so goopy,” Liam said. Suvi assured him that the chicks would fluff up when they dried.

“Were you so awkward and goopy when you hatched, Kallo?” PeeBee asked as she opened a vacuum-packed bag of shredded paper, all recycled from Nexus use.

“Worse,” Kallo assured her. “My fins were tiny.”

“Fins?”

He shrugged. “We grow out of them. These look like they stay in place, though?”

“Wings, not fins,” Lexi corrected as she peered into the incubator to check the progress, and began to scan the eggs that hadn’t hatched yet.

Liam added that the wings were “also known as the most delicious part of the bird.”

This spawned an argument amongst the entire human crew about whether white meat or dark meat was better, and when eating wings, if the actual wing or the drumstick was best. Ryder and Liam came down firmly on the side of flat wings; Gil apparently loved drumsticks; Cora fondly remembered the baked chicken breast she used to eat as a child; and Suvi declared that they all had wonderful, delicious merits.

Jaal asked Lexi about the nutritional qualities, and she elaborated at length about the protein, fat, and vitamin contents of chicken meat. She offered to send him some of the studies she had found; he declined the 122-page biochemical nutritional guide. Still, though, by her analysis, chicken meat would be incredibly healthy for angara to eat, even if it might take some trial and error to figure out what combination of spices would make it palatable.

After several hours, Suvi and Lexi declared that the surviving chicks were ready for transfer to the brooding box. There, they would stay warm and have everything they needed. Several crewmembers had wandered off, but Ryder and Jaal helped gently scoop up the cheeping chicks and place them in their new home. Lexi did final scans on the last few eggs, and declared them destined for compost.

Ryder collapsed backwards onto a chair. “Phew! They are cute, but I am ready to hit the hay.”

Jaal got up and wearily walked towards the brood box. “Remind me, Suvi. Which part is the hay? And why does it need to be hit?” Shortly thereafter, “Why are you laughing?”

Ryder explained the translation error.

“Seriously, though,” Lexi said. “You are all chronically sleep deprived. The automated brooding system will take care of the chicks. Off to bed, all of you.”

She accepted no excuses.

Suvi whispered to Ryder as they walked out, “Next thing you know, she’ll make us all wear matching brightly-colored t-shirts to the fair so she can easily find us if we get lost.”

“I heard that!”

“If only all diplomats were small, fluffy, and peeping!” Ryder said to Suvi as they said their goodnights.

[killjoy-loveit]

Solar World- Part Two

A/N: I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. Also, this is a story I had started writing but completely forgot about and thought I could convert it to fanfic so that I might actually finish it, lol :) This series has an unknown finish date, as I’m still trying to set up the layout of the series. I’m going to try doing something different, I’ll be including links to the other parts in the notes by a reblog (to access the links I think you might need to click on the reblog itself)

Summary: Sunni and her team have learned Valis Havens did not hold the last of humanity as they thought.

Word Count: 2,170

Genre: Post-Apocalyptic AU

Introduction | Part One | Part Two

    Sunlight twists through the branches of trees towering above- at maybe a hundred feet, if I had to guess. The plant life in the area surrounding the hatch seems healthy upon a brief glance, the vibrant foliage leading me to this assumption. It’s so much more beautiful than I imagined, or than anything we have in Valis Haven to give us an idea of what the surface looked like. Nothing could properly give it justice in a mere reproduction, not when it looks like this. I’m even a little short of breath just taking everything in, not because the air is bad but rather my excitement is making it difficult for me to take a deep breath.

      It appears as if the hatch opened up in the middle of a forest, one that wasn’t present three hundred and fifty years ago. As my team climb out of the clean room through the hatch one by one, I have a tough time trying to focus on the questions they’re asking. But it’s apparent I’m not the only one enamored with the environment around us. A breeze rustles the leaves resulting in everyone jumping slightly. Reminding us that while this is an exciting experience, we must be cautious and not let our guard down.

     “Sunni, it’s… It’s beautiful.” Jae murmured beside me.

     His words break me free from the trance I’d been in, and I nod in response. “Yes, it most definitely is beautiful... We can’t just stand around here though, we need to look for a place to set up camp.”

     “Sure thing, Sunni. Just lead the way.” Gil replies giddily, his feet bouncing with energy.

     I step off the platform that leads to the hatch after sliding it closed. Twigs snap under my feet as I move forward, determining which direction we should go. Based off the fact that a forest wasn’t present before, I’m going to assume that the maps I studied are inaccurate and useless now. Our camp should be near a water source, and if we can find animal tracks they could lead us to the closest body of water.

      “Look for animal tracks, shout if you find anything.” I say calmly, wandering farther from the group.

     At this we split up, some going in pairs or solo, like myself. I walked to the left of the hatch, going past a few trees to look for tracks. As I searched the ground something in the dirt seemed odd, I crouched to get a better look at it. It was a track, that much I was aware of, but it was unlike any animal I’ve studied. Instead, as I moved leaves to the side to analyze it, the track appeared human. But that can’t be, nobody could have survived those disasters. Could they? I mean, is it possible that somehow people managed to survive and their descendants have been roaming the surface while we’ve been stuck underground?

     Shooting to my feet from my crouched position, I move to yell out for the team but a movement in the corner of my eye makes me freeze. It was fleeting, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to bring me pause. Breath frozen in my lungs, I turn my head to where I saw the movement. I scan the trees carefully, and to my disappointment or relief I’m not sure, nothing’s there. Shaking my head to rid myself of intrusive thoughts screaming that I’m not alone, rather, we’re not alone.

      These thoughts are proved correct though as a body presses into me from behind, an arm wrapping around my waist to restrain me and a hand moving to cover my mouth. Even knowing it won’t be of much use I try to scream, and as expected the sound is muffled by my assailant’s hand. Twisting and yanking my body in a futile attempt to free myself only results in being held tighter, the arm constricting painfully around my waist. Hot tears start to build in my eyes, threatening to burn their way down my cheeks. I’ve only just made it to the surface and now I’m probably going to be killed by someone we had no clue existed.

     Words were spoken into my ear by a low voice in a language I didn’t recognize and the hand was removed from my mouth. A minute passed in silence as the person waited, I assumed it was a male at this point based off the voice. Maybe he was waiting for me to respond. I chew at my lip trying to determine if it’d matter if I told him that I didn’t understand him if he couldn’t understand me either. Screw it, it’s worth a shot.

     “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” I whisper softly.

     A huff of breath hits my neck, sending chills down my spine. “Do you understand me now?” My eyes go wide at his words and I nod frantically. “Good. Where did you come from? Why are you here? What are your plans?”

     “U-Um, well, I’m from Valis Havens. I’ve been sent up here with a small team to solve a problem. The plan is to find the problem and a solution.”

      “What is Valis Havens?”

     “It’s an underground facility that houses what we thought was the last of humanity.”

     “You said you have a team? All of you are unknown threats on our land, I have to take you to the Superior.”

     “Superior? Will-will we be killed?” I stutter out, heart pounding.

     “Only if you’re deemed a threat.”

     Surely that shouldn’t have comforted me, but for some peculiar reason it did. While, yes, there were those on my team that could pose significant threat for the people that lived here, none of them would do anything unless I gave the go ahead. I wasn’t about to give permission to go to war with people we had no clue existed until now.

      “Call your people here.” He demanded.

     “Are you sure?” I question. “If I call them here with you holding me hostage, they won’t listen first, they’ll attack. I promise I won’t try to escape, it’s no use when I know nothing about the terrain.”

     “Fine.”

      With that single word the arms holding me in place released me. Before calling out to my team, I figured I deserved to see the face of the man that had been holding me as leverage. What I saw was not what I was expecting. Although, I’m not really sure what I was expecting, just that this was not it. The man standing before me is handsome, with a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and rounded lips. His tanned skin shone in the sunlight, and his dark almond shaped eyes held a dimmed fire within them.

      “Call them, now.” He ordered, eyes narrowing.

     I pause a second longer to regain my composure. “Guys! I need you to come over here.”

     In the following minute countless shouts ring out into the air, confirming they’re moving my way, joined by sounds of leaves crunching underfoot. Gil and Nia appear first, followed shortly by Bo and Bren, next comes Jae and Vera, then finally Ves shows up. As each group finds me, they pause in place upon seeing the man standing beside me. Bo’s mouth keeps opening and closing, giving him the appearance of a dumbfounded fish. Ves is the only one to speak up amidst the dead silence surrounding my team.

     “There were survivors. Interesting.” She murmurs, a calculating look taking form on her face.

     “Yes, and apparently we’re on their territory.” I sigh lightly, glancing at the man beside me. “Now we have to go with him to meet his Superior.”

     “Sunni…” Vera draws my name out, her tone showing that she’s uncomfortable with the situation.

     I grit my teeth. “We don’t have another option, either we go with him or we start a war. I would prefer not to go to war.”

     With these words, any protests that my team had been forming died on their lips. It was evident in their eyes, how they widened in realization and fear, that initiating a war was to be avoided at all costs. None of us had ever lived through anything similar to that, the only wars we knew of were in history books. Each war in those books was devastating, with body counts higher than our population, it was difficult to imagine being okay with such loss.

      “We must move out now, so that we aren’t out when the sun sets.” The man beside me spoke up.

     A quick head count and we were on our way, following the mysterious guy through the forest. He never really spoke, except for telling us to avoid certain plants. One plant in question being a deep purple, almost black color, with large heart shaped leaves harboring small spikes that contained a deadly poison. If I’m being honest, I truly wanted to take a sample of one and examine it, potentially run a few tests. Maybe if I could figure out it’s genetic makeup, an antidote could be made for the poison, if one already hasn’t been developed that is.

     Though it wasn’t just the plant life I was curious of. I mean, how could anybody possibly survive the massive solar flares and tsunamis that happened three hundred and fifty years ago? There’s the potential that maybe if they had a bunker people could survive for a few years before facing the surface again. Except I don’t understand how the radiation wouldn’t have killed them upon surfacing, it certainly should have been deadly at that point. Everything I’ve been taught goes to say that nobody should have been able to survive. Thus, it’s mystifying to find out that people somehow managed to make it through the calamity.

     Surely the Earth would have been a mixture of scorched grounds and raised sea levels, which makes it even harder for my brain to comprehend. Quite honestly I would love to learn of their history, what they’ve been taught and how they’ve progressed. Has their society regressed in terms of development? Or has it gone beyond any expectations we may have down in Valis Havens? While I have one member of the society leading us, he is remaining quiet and elusive regarding sharing any information. I do know one thing, they must speak multiple languages, seeing as how he didn’t speak English to me at first. Scratch that, make it two things, because I am certain that the language he spoke first is new or a derivative at the least.

      Granted, I am not well versed in linguistics, I only ever managed to learn two other languages fluently. Though I do know basics of a few others, most of which were spread out regionally. Ves and Nia are the best with languages in the team, both speaking upwards of five different languages, not including English. One of them could potentially identify the origins of the language he spoke, if it was a derivative that is. It wouldn’t be surprising if Ves was the one who could identify it, seeing as she is a bit of a wild card.

      See, there’s no telling what Ves knows. She’s the type that values secrecy and never shows the world anything but a face of stone. If I’m honest, Ves scares me just a little bit. Not because I feel that she would ever go against the team or harm us, but mainly for the sole fact that you can never guess where her thoughts are. And since she rarely talks, everyone goes quiet when she does.

      Everyone else on the team is a bit easier, well, a lot easier, to read in comparison to Ves. Gil’s emotions are always plain as day on his face, he’s probably most like Ves’ polar opposite in that regard. Most of the others tend to have control over their expressions and body language, though there are times when they have an extreme reaction to something and that control slips.

      Sometimes I get so lost in thought that I lose track of my surroundings, this was one of those times. I slammed right into the back of the guy- I really should learn his name- that was leading us as a result. Yeah, I’m quite aware that I should’ve been paying attention so that incidents, such as this, wouldn’t occur. Well, it’s too late to remedy the situation. He turns slowly to face me, a blank look on his face. All I manage to do is smile sheepishly and whisper a quick apology.

     He shakes head lightly, a small smile appearing briefly. “We have arrived. Stay quiet and try not to attract too much attention. There’s no telling how the others will react, so it’s important to get you to the Superior as quickly as possible.”

     I stop him as he turns back to lead us further. “Wait, what’s your name?”

     “Minho.” And with that he turned on his heel and continued forth.

     At least now I know his name.

[lavanderstarcatcher]

At the Beginning || SeungChuChu Childhood AU || Part II

The Previous Part 

This took way too long to actually publish – but hey, Part II is here and I hope I will have Part III soon-ish (faster than this one at least).

Now here we are, I'm suddenly standing

At the beginning with you

- At the Beginning - Anastasia

It turned out that the Chulanonts neither were aliens or as bad as Seung-gil originally had expected them to be. Phichit's parents were nice, all kindness and bright smiles. Well, Phichit shared his smile with his mum, who was a social butterfly. Phichit's father was a bit shyer, but still kind. However, that didn't mean he spends a lot of time with the Chulanonts. Seung-gil still preferred to sit in his room and read when the Chulanonts visited during the summer, and as soon as school started, he spent his lunch breaks somewhere safe and out of the sight of other kids, including Phichit who also was a second-year student.

 The moment the school bell rang, the one that announced lunch break, Seung-gil shoved his stuff into his backpack and scurried out of the room. The schoolyard was large but mostly empty. There was some playground equipment, like swings and a slide, and of course a large sandbox, but most people dug up the worn balls, hoops and crayons and went to town on the schoolyard. Seung-gil ignored the people who made a mad-dash to the shed with school equipment and headed the opposite direction, Spiderman backpack securely strapped on his back.

 He didn’t encounter anyone as he snuck towards his tree. Well, the school tree he had claimed unofficial property over. Checking if there was no teacher watching, Seung-gil climbed up the tree with practised ease and settled down on the lowest branch. His mum had scolded him after he had broken his wrist falling out of the tree. That wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t climbed up high to remain out of sight. Wanting to avoid another broken wrist and a coddling mother, Seung-gil had decided to sit low and hope that nobody would find him.

 Making himself comfortable on the sturdy tree branch, Seung-gil unzipped his bag. Pushing his lunch aside — he wasn't that hungry — he took out a battered copy of 'The BFG'. He had finished 'Mathilda' the previous evening and simply couldn't wait to start the next book written by Roald Dahl. It was nice to see clever main characters, especially the ones who shared his desire to read, like Mathilda in 'Mathilda'. It was somehow better than the heroic characters he had crossed in other books that swung around swords and needed friends to figure out puzzles.

 Starting the story, Seung-gil blocked out his surroundings, aside from the shrill sound of the bell which would announce the end of lunch break. Twenty-five minutes of reading, surviving the afternoon class, go home and read a bit more, eat dinner, more reading and finishing the book. That sounded like a great idea.

 It seemed that, however, not everyone shared his opinion. Or at least someone didn't. Seung-gil just had finished the first chapter when something hit his leg, causing him to jerk slightly.

 Frowning at his book, Seung-gil decided to ignore it, filing it as a 'one-time thing'. But as the second thing hit his leg, and a third one followed a minute-or-so later, he pushed a bookmark between the pages and lowered his book.

 Phichit Chulanont stood below his tree, looking up at him with a grin plastered on his face. A dozen rocks or-so were scattered below the tree, which gave Seung-gil the satisfaction to know that Phichit didn't have an insanely good aim.

 "What do you want?" Seung-gil snapped, not bothering with his manners. He wanted to be left alone with his book, and that Phichit was his neighbour gave him no privileges whatsoever.

 Phichit huffed, clearly not impressed with his grumpiness. "Do you spend every lunch break reading?" he asked.

 Surprised, Seung-gil nodded. "Yes," he added as vocal confirmation.

 "And shouldn't you be spending time with friends?" Phichit continued. "I mean, isn't it lonely?"

 Seung-gil shrugged. "I don't have friends," he said nonchalantly as if it didn't sting a little. "And books never disappoint me."

 Phichit didn't look surprised. "Make room, I'm coming up."

 Seung-gil surprised himself by not even considering to protest. He scooted over on the branch, giving Phichit the room to sit down as soon as he reached the right height.

 "Why are you up here?" Seung-gil asked as Phichit settled down. "I mean; don't you have friends to be with?"

 Phichit offered him a bright smile. "You're my friend, so to answer your question, I am spending time with my friend."

 It was hard to figure Phichit out. Seung-gil just had said he didn't have friends, so yeah, he doesn't see Phichit as a friend. This didn't deter Phichit though. Maybe it was time to dig up the box with the theories that the Chulanonts might be aliens, trying to invade earth. Though he wasn't sure if becoming friend with him was really that useful for their mission statement. After all, Seung-gil didn’t have influential family or friends — actually, all Seung-gil could offer was a vast knowledge of kids’ books and what to read and whatnot. Oh well, maybe he should get more books on aliens the next time he visited the library. Maybe this way he could figure out how Phichit worked.

The Next Part