#this design has been marinating in my brain for who knows how long so. here it is

[wainwrightjakobshammerlock]

plague peepaw

[the-au-collector]

Linked Universe College Radio AU

Since I recently got some motivation to work on this one, I figured I would brain dump a little about my LU College Radio AU. It's basically a college/university AU but each of the main LU Links are somehow associated with their college radio station at Kakariko University.

Why radio? I was listening to The Oh Hellos when the idea struck me so each of the works are hopefully going to have titles taken from Oh Hellos songs. This will, hopefully, just mostly focus on the Links + the radio station but who knows? I added way too many characters to this braindump but oh well

The Links

Time

Staff coordinator for the radio station

Broadcasting professor

Usually gets stuck teaching the freshman and sophomores

Married to the zoology professor, Malon

Taking care of Twilight's dog, Wolfie, until Twilight finds a dog-friendly place. Acts like he hates it, but he actually loves it

Infamous for being a hardass

"Call me Time. Don't call me Link, that's my nephew. Don't call me Professor Lon, that's my wife"

Legend

Has done just about anything and everything

Knows everyone, but just because he's been here so long and has done so much

Has officialy been an agriculture major, a meteorology major, a humanities major, a fine art major, a fashion design major, and an engineering major in the past

Has finally settled with being a broadcasting major after doing the Jaded Boys radio show with Wild

Part of the Jaded Boys with Wild, then is part of Triple Threat with Wild and Hyrule

Lives off-campus with his current partner, Ravio

Also lives with Warriors

Used to date a girl named Marin from Mabe City. No he doesn't talk about it

Does not like driving. Or storms.

Has a cane

Even in an AU he can't escape the Koholint Trauma

Wild

Campus cryptid

Everyone knows him. No one knows what he's studying

(It's engineering. He, Purah, and Fauna are a terror to the school together)

Addicted to energy drinks

Never studies, always passes exams

Always socially overbooked

Has amnesia and bad scarring from a house fire

Was adopted by Teba and Saki after said house fire

Has a twin brother named Age. Most people think Age is older but Wild's actually older

Was the one who coerced Legend and Hyrule into radio

Lives in a house off-campus with Twilight, Age, Sidon, Yunobo, Mipha, and Revali.

Has committed arson before

Has gotten arrested for committing arson before

Twilight

Zoology major

Is the reason Wild's still alive

Used to be roommates with Wild in the dorms when they were freshmen

Took a gap year between high school and college

Has a dog named Wolfie

Regular guest on Triple Threat

Runs the Helpful Paws club, which is a club all about service dogs. Ilia helps run said club

Works on Legend's uncle's orchard during the weekends

Four

Computer science major

Technology director at the radio station (yes this position only exists because of Wild)

Friendly rivalry with Wild because Wild breaks everything

Shadow is his step-brother

Warriors

Fashion design major

Joined Legend and Ravio's lease at the last minute because of stuff that happened between him and his other roommates

Has a restraining order against Cia and doesn't talk to Lana

Is currently dating Artemis, a fashion merchandising major

Met Legend when Legend was doing fashion design. No one knows how they're friends. They fight all the time.

Legend forced him to make his own radio show when Wild roped Legend into doing the Jaded Boys. So now Warriors has a show called Wednesday With Warriors

Sky

Senior aviation major

Runs The Loftwings with his fiancé, Sun, and his best friend, Groose.

Has a bad habit of sleeping through his alarm

Currently taking care of his older brother's mouthy parrot, Crimson.

Also lives with Groose and Sun

Wind

Freshman metrology major

Super friendly

Cares more about the college experience than learning

Hyrule's roommate

After Hyrule starts doing Triple Threat, Wind gets the idea to do the Wind Waker podcast with Tetra where they sing sea shanties and tell pirate stories

Spirit is his introverted cousin and he's made it his goal to get Spirit to get out more

He also does the same with Hyrule

Hyrule

Freshman undecided major

Joins Triple Threat under Wild's insistence

Very shy

Grew up in a really small town

Wind's roommate

Is regularly forced out of the dorm by Wind but prefers to just wander around town and campus

Childhood friends with Dawn

Age

Wid's twin brother who is very different from Wild

Business major, accounting minor

Dating Mipha, a senior nursing student

Rarely goes to parties, but plays damage control when Wild hosts them at their house

Does remember his and Wild's past. Wild's amnesia caused a rift to form between them for a while, but they're working on getting past that now

Was also adopted by Teba and Saki

Shadow

Four's step-brother

Vaati's his dad, but he's cut Vaati out of his life now

Theater major with a minor in set design

Got his nickname from no one being able to see him onstage when moving props around

Everyone is convinced he has some sort of magical powers

A bit shy, and a bad boy

Dating Dot

Spirit

Freshman engineering major

His roommate is Niko

Wind's introverted cousin who's often dragged out of his dorm by Wind

Would much rather spend time with construction documents than people

First

Sky's older brother who's not around a lot since he's in the military (he's a doctor)

Married to a woman named Hylia

Has a parrot named Crimson that he's trusting Sky to take care of

The Zeldas

Lullaby

Works at Kakriko Univeristy as a broadcasting professor

An old flame of Time's, but they've both moved on by now

Usually teaches upper division classes

Fable

Legend's older sister who lives in Castle City

Already graduated with a business degree

Comes around for the holidays and drops in occasionally to see how Legend's doing

Flora

Constantly overbooked with school

Double-majoring in anthropology and history

Part of hundreds of different clubs and student organizations

Hard to get a moment alone with her at all

Has recently gotten close to Rauru and Sonia, who are both anthropology students

Fauna's twin sister. Flora's younger, though

Dusk

Political science major

Knows Twilight through Midna but since Twi and Midna broke up, Dusk doesn't really talk to Twilight anymore

Roommates with Midna and Artemis

Dot

Political science major and Four's childhood friend

Hopes to get into law school one day

Dating Shadow (her dad isn't too happy about this)

Lives with Aurora and Dawn and used to be roommates with Aurora when they were in the dorms

Artemis

Fashion merchandising major

Warriors' girlfriend

Used to also be his housemate, but after things happened with Cia and Lana she moved in with Midna and Dusk

Still occasionally talks to Lana

Sun

Senior aviation major and Sky's fiancé

Runs The Loftwings with Sky and Groose

Also lives with Sky and Groose

Appears to be very level-headed on the outside, but is secretly kind of crazy

Tetra

Ecology major with a minor in biology

Eventually becomes close friends with Wind

Roommates with Phantom and they get along like fire and gasoline

(seriously do not let either of those girls near a lighter... or boxing gloves)

Part of the Wind Waker podcast with Wind

Aurora

Senior political science major

She, Dot, and Dawn live together

Dawn is her younger sister

Is going to move to Castle City after graduation

Refuses to go home after having a horrible falling out with her brother

Dawn

Freshman early childhood education major

Wants to teach kindergarten and preeschool one day

Lives with her older sister, Aurora, and Aurora's roommate, Dot

Doesn't plan on returning to her hometown either

Childhood friends with Hyrule

Fauna

Flora's twin sister who's majoring in engineering and minoring in biology

Best friends with Purah and Impa

Closer to Age than Wild, but she's in a lot of classes with Wild

It is a horrible idea to leave her, Purah, and Wild alone in a room together

Has a cat named Terrako, who hates everyone except for her

Her father puts a lot of pressure on both her and Flora, but Fauna feels it the most since she's the oldest

Phantom

Freshman communications major

Tetra's roommate

She looks like any old upperclass girl but she is always ready to throw hands

Somehow becomes friends with Spirit

Hylia

First's wife who's a doctor at a local hospital

Keeps an eye out for Sky even though she knows he doesn't really need it

Will bring Sky and his friends food and snacks

Absolutely willing to drive Sky and his friends home when none of them can drive

Very motherly and open

Some Others:

Malon

Time's wife who's a zoology professor

Twilight has started a protection squad for her (all the Links are part of it. Even Time)

Everyone loves her

Ravio:

Legend's partner

Business major

Has a bird named Sheerow who poops everywhere

Despite this he is the cleanest one in the apartment

Constantly roping Legend into new business ideas

Used to run a shop out of his and Legend's dorm room when they lived in the dorms together. Legend's pretty sure it was against the rules. Ravio doesn't care

Acts greedy, but is actually living off his loans

Never goes home. He goes over Legend's Uncle's house for holidays now.

His younger sister, Hilda, often sleeps over and Legend and Ravio's

Has a horrible relationship with his father, Yuga

Sidon, Mipha, Revali, Yunobo:

Wild's housemates alongside Twilight and Age

Revali claims he's the only reason the house hasn't burned down

Revali is also one of Teba and Saki's adopted children, and had a bit of a superiority complex over being adopted first (he was there first) when they were kids. He's gotten better, but he's still a bit of a jerk to Wild. He and Age have bonded over Wild constantly giving them heart attacks

Sidon is a sophomore political science major who is super friendly, but has a hard time stopping conversations. Head over heels for his girlfriend, Yona. Is also super tall and often mistaken for being the older sibling

Mipha is a senior nursing student. Sidon's older sister, Age's girlfriend. If there's a medical emergency, chances are the Links are calling Mipha first even though they really should go to the hospital instead

Revali is a senior aviation major and hopes to join the air force after college to "get away from the filth" (meaning Age and Wild. He would never call Tulin filth)

Yunobo is a sophomore geoscience major. Works at his grandpa's coffee shop, Goron City Coffee

Urbosa, Daruk, Riju:

Urbosa is Riju's aunt and and mother figure to Flora and Fauna. She lives in Castle City, but often comes to Kakariko to give guest lectures. She's a businesswoman

Daruk is Yunobo's grandpa who owns Goron City Coffee. He often lets the radio host events at his coffee shop, and acts like a father figure for Wild's friend group

Riju is a freshman business major who wants to be like her aunt, Urbosa. Flora and Fauna see her as their younger sister.

Teba, Saki, Tulin:

Revali was adopted first, then Age and Wild

Teba is retired from being in the military

Saki teaches private singing lessons

Tulin is the Baby of the family and is in middle school. He is an absolute terror. Never let Wild babysit him, they will both get into trouble. Tulin is everyone's favorite and Tulin will use that to his advantage

Ilia:

Twilight's friend who helps run the Helpful Paws club

She has a huge crush on Twilight but doesn't want to overstep, especially after the bad break up with Midna

Rusl, Uli, Colin:

Twilight's family in Ordon who adopted him when he was about 8

Colin's just starting high school and is dealing with a lot of bullying, so he calls Twilight often for help

Rusl is a detective, but he's on paternity leave right now since Uli just had their daughter

Grandpa Smith:

Four and Shadow's grandpa

Took them both in after their mother died and Vaati went to prison

Four was usually a good kid, but Shadow was a little terror

Lives in Kakariko City so he gets to see his boys often

Cia and Lana:

Twins who both had huge crushes on Warriors

Cia got jealous when Wars started dating Lana

Cia is a psychology major, but now is largely known as the campus creep

Lana was a fashion design major, but changed schools after the drama with Warriors happened

Groose:

Sky and Sun's roommate and fellow host of The Loftwings

Proudly boasts that he's their best man

Also a senior aviation major

[cobraonthecob]

apologies to all my followers who do not know what f1 is. this fucking rich man's sport has grabbed my brain and is not willing to let go

I am. several months late but my thoughts have been marinating this so um. here we go. a formula 1 post about Nyck De Vries because i really think he deserves a lot better but i understand this sport is cutthroat and red bull happily tosses drivers if they see them as underperforming, which i get. if you underperform, you get the chopping block.

That being said...Nyck being dropped ten races into a season feels like a punch to the face, especially after m/zepin, who at least got a season in (no surprise, money talks big in this rich man's sport, especially if your russian oligarch father sponsors the team) despite posting in his instagram story a video of him groping a woman on his public account. classless.

I will say, Nyck did start off the season coming off as highly arrogant, not wanting to be called a rookie because he is 28 and has been test driving for years (okay fair, he could just be referred to as 'new to officially f1 racing' but that's too long), and thought he was going to be the team lead because of that experience. I do think that was the worst thing he did; was to try and brand himself as not a rookie and thinking he was team lead over Yuki Tsunoda, who has been at alphatauri for much longer than he has. In the eyes of fans, this damned him (seriously, why did no one at PR try to stop him from thinking he - the new guy - would be team lead), and his racing results were lacking.

I honestly think that they should have waited out the entire season to judge him, and that alphatauri had no business tossing Nyck for underperforming in the worst car on the grid. I think that Perspective on youtube has some good points in this video about nyck, and I can't remember at the moment if it was perspective or another youtuber who talked about Nyck in a respectful way, but one stated that in their opinion, drivers should at least have two seasons to be properly judged on their performance. Given how cutthroat redbull is, I say one is enough of a judgement, since they seem to be waiting or searching for the next driver that can measure up to max.

I also do think that Nyck got screwed over by transferring from williams to alpha tauri, instead of signing onto alphatauri, but i wonder if the only reason why alphatauri wanted him specifically was because he's only three inches taller than yuki and they wanted to give yuki preference on the car, rather than say, designing the car around logan or oscar (let's just pretend that these three new drivers are all up for grabs, i don't know how or who gets which driver and i'm not part of that world), who are much taller. though, i'll admit, that thought kind of gets thrown out the door once alpha tauri decided to take on daniel ricciardo and later liam lawson, both of whom are quite tall (and is something mentioned in f1's analysis about alpha tauri)

There's also Nyck being very much hyped over his first race in F1, when he had to stand-in for Alex Albon (who is 6'1, keep that in mind), managed to score P9 in his first official F1 race, and it's not an easy feat for someone who is a test driver, as he couldn't get out of the car at the end of the race, as he stated he was unable to lift his arms. It's one thing if he had just managed to stay in the race, but to be able to score P9 while being pushed to his physical limit. Yes, williams may have the advantage of being perfect for monza, but to manage to climb P9 in a car at the bottom in the constructors' championship and it's not a car that suits you - the original driver being 7 inches taller - I'd say that's pretty impressive to pull off.

and I think that the hype probably put a massive weight on his shoulders. He had so many expectations for himself, the team had expectations for him, and the fans had expectations, and then a series of unfortunate events of getting a car that is fighting to be the worst on the grid and unfortunate incidents leads to him being shown the door.

I think Nyck would've thrived a lot better if he remained at a team whose car he would at least be familiar with, and at a team that would not toss him to the side for underperforming. But unfortunately, time marches on, and I can only wish Nyck the best in life, and that this becomes a cautionary tale for anyone who wants to sign onto red bull/alphatauri.

The overall conclusion is that he deserved a better team and that I can only hope anyone who is similar to him (i.e. been in motorsport for so long that your F1 debut is when you're over the age of 23 and not having a rich parent to buy + protect your place on the team) will learn from the errors Nyck made (the arrogance, specifically).

[drbtinglecannon]

Anyway here's wonderwall (a list of my "worries" for S3 tonight) (really only 1 is a legit worry)

1. Flapjack dies (please no please I can't even entertain the idea of this)(legitimate fear for this birb)(it won't happen)(BUTWHATIFITDOES)(it won't)(BUTWHA--)

2. Hunter becomes a Noceda, thus Dadrius never happens (I'll be so disappointed but I know logically from a writing standpoint it won't be a bad or 'unexpected twist' ending for him, but AHH I'll be so disappointed. I also wonder how that'd work in terms of like.. Hunter isn't gonna live in the human realm with Camila, right? That seems like an unusual turn, especially since I don't even imagine Luz will live at home full-time by the series end and instead comes and goes between Camila & Eda)(That said I think Hunter is already family with Luz & that Camila is one of the most important adults in his life & always will be, but actually having their name before we see Vee get it would be :/ )(This is just my very specific fandom brainrot that'd leave me bummed even tho I know it wouldn't even really be a bad thing)

3. Huntlow becomes canon or strongly implied it's inevitable, and people get all mad about it (I think regardless how people feel about a ship that fandom shouldn't make it the crew's problem, after everything the show has been through I promise one side ship isn't gonna ruin everything. I know only a small % of the haters of this ship act this way but I am genuinely dreading it getting worse & TOH getting that "is bad queer rep now" label that a lot of other media have been tossed under like SU & SPOP & LoK, over both this ship & if the ending is rushed in any way)(Like. Jfc that would be So Exhausting to see)

4. We don't get anymore clarified Wittebros lore, and especially we don't ever learn the name of Caleb's wife or if he married into the Clawthorne family (Cannot express enough how awful it is when media won't name the dead wives of characters)(I'd be SHOCKED if we didn't get the lore but I do wonder if the lore will include wittewife's name since it'll probably be told via Belos who probably didn't care to remember such information)

5. We see the adults in the Boiling Isles and none of them have any kind of design changes (this is just plain superficial, but it's one of those things that's lame as heck. Obviously kids' appearances change a lot quicker than a fully grown adult's but also the BI is in total chaos rn give them new outfits or hairstyles please)

6. The wait for the 2nd episode is really long. (Good time for the brain to marinate over everything, but also the wait will be so difficult, but also also I don't want the show to end)

7. Remember how Zeno said that the best acting he's done was a scene in this episode? And his other favorite scenes were in Eclipse Lake and Hollow Mind? So it's Highly Likely the Hunter moment that's his favorite is Devastating? (This is just point 1 again)(But also gd this kid has suffered)

8. Camila doesn't beat the shit out of Belos with the baseball bat (idk who I think deserves the killing blow but I want Camila to at least knock a few teeth out)

[hickeys-dickey]

Pls share your thoughts about the gays in THAT scene… I would love to read them!

Ahh you are too kind, I am but a little swiss cheese brain but I'll try my best to sum up my thoughts, I have too many! I wanted a chance to grab some screenshots too! I'm going to put a read more because this is a long one buckle up lads.

So obviously the whole punishment for Hickey is designed to humiliate him (I would imagine this is one of the reasons his punishment isn't explained to him, because if Hickey truly was a naval petty officer he would know, and I think it's another way for Crozier to essentially say "I see you" and not in a good way). The fact we're not shown the other whippings shows the importance lies in the scene with Hickey.

I've seen a bit of discussion about his charge of "dirtiness", which isn't listed initially when we see him being questioned by the Captains, and whether or not it alludes to homosexuality but on a quick cursory search it does seem to have been used as a euphemism where an outright accusation of sodomy would mean a death sentence. The way Crozier throws it out there, no doubt to heap the humiliation onto Hickey and add crimes to the list to cover the fact he added lashes on to the punishment essentially for a bruised ego (but that's another matter), suggests a whole lot of venom to the accusation. Hickey's pointed look at Irving and Irving's quick shift of his gaze down suggests they both know exactly why Crozier has listed this among Hickey's list of crimes, and Hickey looks furious for it.

But I think this is also ultimately where the panic begins to set in. Again, there are far greater minds than me who have made excellent posts about queer coded characters in the terror, and I think it's no surprise that most of them are the faces that are focused on in this scence. It is clear long before this moment that Crozier's leadership is lacking, and people have already begun to voice concerns fairly loudly. Tozer for one is livid in the wake of Heather being injured, and the marines have clearly started distancing themselves from both the officers and the men. I feel like this scene, for a lot of characters is a point of major shift in either allegiences or character.

Tozer and the Captains are the first faces that are panned to in this scene and I think the expressions speak for themselves.

Tozer is visibly upset/concerned after the first lash. I do think guilt probably has a part to play, in that is was him whole told Hickey where Silna was, and presumably approved enough of the plan to not rat him out to anyone. Again, very probably part of Tozer's anger at Heather being injured due to what he sees is Crozier's poor management. Fitzjames is stoney faced, but is also the only one looking. As a man who many have noted pushes himself to pick emotional scabs, I think it would make sense for someone who is also notably queer coded and stuggles with trauma to make himself look directly at someone being whipped for a crime he himself might commit. Crozier isn't even looking, whether out of suddenly doubting his harshness or simply triggering something in his own memory it's not clear. I think the end of this shot also speaks for itself.

(Fig 1. Three Concerned (very likely not straight) men contemplate)

The lads at the back behind Mr. Johnson are all looking Directly At the whipping as it is taking place. Interestingly none of the men at the front near the table are looking. This is the stewards, officers, and marines. Whether out of respect or also Concern at their own skins (I think every one of these characters has been addressed as being queer coded at some point, minus the marines who are all, except Tozer, fairly nameless characters).

I'm not a gifmaker which is unfortunate for this section, though this is what is gifed in the beautiful gifset by sashneeka I reblogged (x). Tommy is also visibly upset, whether because he knows Tozer was involved in the plot to kidnap Silna and is concerned for him and any of the rest of the crew who had assisted in someway or voiced support. Billy interestingly does look briefly, and sets his jaw after in a way that suggests he's trying to fight the guilt of being the one to tell Irving about the whole affair with Hickey to paint himself in a better light. It could just as easily be Billy there on that table being lashed, but he somehow rationalises it in his head (probably because Hickey is a little bastard) that he was right in what he did. He does look down fairly guiltily after this, so maybe he hasn't quite settled on an opinion. Jopson also looks incredibly concerned/unsettled, and interestingly looks at Hickey right up until the whip hits where he flinches, and not for the only time in this scene. From what we know about Jopson's past, though not at this point, it may well be he is remembering similar punishment/mistreatment and like Fitzjames looks enough to pick the scab open and flinch from his own trauma.

The closeup of Hickey shows the full extent of his rage and humiliation building, and as I think Adam himself said, they whipped something out of Hickey that day and let him reach this potential that lay inside him (to become an even bigger bastard). He's fully severed all ties and feelings of loyalty after this and it becomes full on train to manipulation station from this point. I have a lot of Thoughts about Hickey also (which I am sure you are all aware of) but I think there was some semblance of Hickey attempting to start afresh on this journey, or at the very least keep his head down and go unnoticed. The trouble is, he notices Crozier as a flawed man, and one not from the upper classes like himself, and his ego can't help but think we're not so different, that could be me with the right connections. Well surprise lads, its murder time now and he's gonna make this old man pay for not recognising initiative but punishing it. I do wonder if Crozier wasn't booze sick and rattled from losing even more men under his command, would he not have come down so harshly for someone clearly defying the Articles to do what he thinks is right and save the men (a la Crozier and his fuck you I'm directly contradicting an order and leading this rescue party myself).

Tozer gets another wee closeup here and again looks like he has resolved something in his head too. Most likely that he thinks Crozier an unfit leader, and admiring Hickey for having the balls to do what he did (Hickey also never reveals anyone else who came with him, and when he talks about Hartnell and Mason's part in taking Silna it highlights their skill and bravery and (he thinks) commends them to the Captain. It's probably the only time we see him building up and applauding others). He looks dead ahead here and seems to have a very steely gaze, like yep fuck it looks like I'm going it alone now. It is interesting that Tozer goes from this to notably disliking Hickey (both at the start and when they are packing up - "you've just given me an excuse to give a big shove". This might be anger at Hickey having caused all the issues with Silna after the fact when Heather gets killed at Carnivale), but still follows him in the end. Hickey has the ability to kill, manipulate, steal, basically do whatever needed for their group to get ahead, which means Tozer can be part of the group and not have to dirty his own hands. I think Tozer probably has a complicated relationship with Hickey, but he does fall for the charm hook, line, and sinker, and the fact he seems concerned for him here suggests how easily he is sympathetic to those he sees as being wronged.

Gibby getting Hickey's blood on his hand (ayy) seems to visibly make him blanch, and I do find it interesting that the shot then pans to Tommy as though they are looking at each other when they are stood side by side. The similarities between them maybe? (I've seen and reblogged a lot of discourse about Tommy loving Tozer, maybe another nod to no one being so different to the man on the table?) Irving doesn't get much of a close up in the rest of this scene but bless him he looks equal parts terrified and guilty (another man who has been noted as having a list of many things to distract from the Gay Thoughts like why do you need to distract from Gay Thoughts Irving?). He also has the Far Off Look of trauma about him, probably because he too could just as easily be on that table.

I have many many thoughts about the way Hickey turns to look (and fucking smile???) at Crozier next, which is when Crozier is looking directly at him and Fitzjames looks at him. Like if I were Crozier I think my fucking blood would chill, look at this man. Being humiliated and lashed still hasn't broken him, if anything he has just become fully unhinged and looks at Crozier as though to say "did you really think this would work?". I would also say, this man has fairly quite for someone who is at this stage something like 22 lashes in? Like what the actual fuck Hickey?? I fully belive Hickey to be a psycopath, and most of what he does in the beginning of the series is an attempt to stay hidden until they get to Hawaii and he can ditch the crew, but I think it is fairly safe to say he isn't hiding it any more.

And he knows this is going to make the men doubt Crozier - I can't do a proper search because I am using my work laptop atm, but I seem to remember reading that a punishment greater than 12 lashes required a court martial (probably why Little steps in to say so when Crozier orders his punishment as well as them technically being lost at sea), which would be another strike against him as a Captain. Not only that, but Crozier does seem to grant him some mercy in letting him only be lashed I think 23 or so times? Probably because the tension is fucking palpable in this whole scene and Crozier can either choose to claw back some sense of control on the matter, or deal with the consequences of many people admiring Hickey for what he has done for the crew and start a mutiny. I think this is the first time Fitzjames sees the damage Crozier is doing to himself with his choices as Captain, and is probably just as concerned at the look Hickey is giving him. He knows this has unleashed something in this tiny rat bastard too, and that he will become the physical manifestation of Crozier's self-destructive tendancies. Crozier perpetually comes to everything just a fraction too late to change anything - he never saves any of the men, only comforts them as they die, and a lot of this has to do with his own ego and bad decision making, and I think this is the first example here of the fact his actions are having an effect on others to the point it will be his downfall.

Anyway, to round it off, I think this scene really epitomises the notion that Hickey is a mirror to the rest of the men, and they see their flaws in him. Those who have questioned Crozier's captaincy look concernced knowing they too could be being lashed. They too would have tried to get Silna to stop the Tuunbaq hunting them. Those who are queer or queer coded know they too could be being lashed for it. Crozier himself sees his unwillingness to follow the Articles in him, sees his own insubordination, and feels what Sir John meant when he said his position afforded him deference. Hickey may as well be a metaphor for all the men being lashed, theres not one among them who haven't voiced wanting to do what he has done. Let them without sin and all that. This is make or break for who holds loyalty to the Captain, and the turning point for who is going where. I think everyone except Jopson, Irving and Fitzjames ends up in the mutineers camp, and Irving ends up killed and mutilated by Hickey and Fitzjames is scavanged by them. Theres not one of them that isn't haunted by what happened in this scene, and Hickey would end up being the death of every single one of them. The only one who remains loyal after this is Jopson, who thinks his care and duty to the Captain can outweigh his other sins. Fitzjames and Crozier have a stronger relationship once he recovers from his withdrawal, yes, but Fitzjames also keeps him in check now (I'm thinking of Edward Little being threatened with flogging again because of course I am), and it is another step too late for Crozier's self-destruction. I've seen a Hickey/Fitzjames Christ analogy on here before too, so I hope you'll forgive me in comparing them, but Hickey in this scene really does get punished for everyone else's crimes in this scene, and becomes a sort of Christ-like figure, reborn as a complete version of the worst of himself from the pain of being lashed. They whipped something out of him!! Anyway, that about sums it up!

[omgkatsudonplease]

[ficlet, bagginshield] when you are alone (bridgerton au)

“What dull pictures,” remarks the voice of Miss Bracegirdle from next to Bilbo. He startles a little at seeing her, before folding his hands and looking back up at the portrait in front of them. 

“I rather like it,” he replies. It’s a painting of the Battle of the Last Alliance, complete with Isildur casting the Enemy’s Ring into the fires of Mount Doom. “The colours are nice and it feels like I’m looking at a dream.”

“It’s about Big Folk doing Big Folk deeds,” replies Miss Bracegirdle, wrinkling her nose. “Which doesn’t concern us, ergo it’s dull.”

Bilbo is tempted to make a snide remark about her clear narrow-mindedness, but given that the Michel Delving Mathom-house is full of revellers today, he doesn’t particularly fancy making a scene. 

“Well, if you hate the painting so much, why not find another one more to your taste?” he replies instead. Miss Bracegirdle snorts at that.

“The reason all of these are here,” she points out, “is because no one wants them.” 

Which is not necessarily true, at least not by Bilbo’s estimation. He’s donated his mother’s favourite painting to this gallery exhibition, and he still wants it back when all’s said and done. Still, he says nothing, continuing his policy of tacit coldness instead. 

Even with his and Thorin’s charade fanning the flames of Shire society gossip for the past few weeks, Miss Bracegirdle seems undeterred in designs upon him. He supposes by objective metrics this means that she does love him, except anyone with a brain and a working pair of eyes could see that was far from the truth. 

In the meantime, Lord Stormcrow has bought their act hook, line, and sinker, claiming that Bilbo helping Thorin with his cravat at the Brandywine River Promenade was quite a sweet moment in their unexpected romance. Bilbo had groaned when he read the pamphlet, knowing that not only had he lost the wager to Thorin, but also that he was going to miss Thorin helping him out once the social season was over. 

The search for his true love has been stymied somewhat by his Dwarven distraction, but somehow, he truly can’t seem to bring himself to care. 

Miss Bracegirdle breaks the silence again. “I did not know that you had it in you, Mr Baggins,” she says. “Ensnaring a Dwarf-king. As if your seven years on the marriage market were not enough.”

Bilbo snorts. “You think I wanted to be on the marriage market for seven years?” he demands. 

“There are plenty of Hobbit-lasses who would not refuse you, if you had thought to ask,” replies Miss Bracegirdle.

“And you would be chiefest amongst them, I imagine,” replies Bilbo waspishly. “The answer is no.”

Miss Bracegirdle’s lips curl, her expression curdling like sour milk. “It is all too convenient that a picky and disinterested gentlehobbit like yourself could have suddenly found himself swept up in a romance with a Dwarf-king,” she states. “I will get to the bottom of it.”

“It’s, quite frankly, none of your business,” retorts Bilbo. 

Miss Bracegirdle raises an eyebrow. “So you love him?”

Bilbo opens his mouth, but is swiftly saved by Thorin’s presence at his side. Today the King is wearing a tan frock coat over a blue waistcoat and light breeches, his hair plaited back and the beads in his braids shining in the light. Bilbo exhales, feeling an odd sense of relief filling him as Thorin nods at him in greeting. 

He turns to Miss Bracegirdle. “That is also none of your business,” he says hastily, before returning to Thorin’s side and nudging him away from Miss Bracegirdle.

“I did not expect to see you at this,” he confesses.

“The latest Stormcrow,” replies Thorin, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Bilbo rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Well, what sort of courting gift would you like?” he asks. 

They stop in front of a different painting, this one of a countryside scene just at the start of dawn. Rosy fingers of light gently hover above the trees of Woody End, the sun not quite lighting up the sleepy trees and smials in the foreground just yet. Out of one smial comes a faint wisp of smoke, while a pair of lovers clandestinely meet in the eaves of the trees. 

It’s his mother’s favourite painting, and one that never fails to make Bilbo’s chest tighten and stomach clench whenever he sees it. His mother had moved from her ancestral home in Tuckborough to live in Bag End with her true love, but it didn’t mean she never missed the fields and hills of her childhood. This painting was half-observation, half-memory — a dream of days long past as well as a depiction of what could be happening every morning in the Woody End just before the sun fully rises.

“This is a marvellous painting,” remarks Thorin from beside him. Bilbo can’t help his own smile at that.

“You want this as a courting gift?” he jokes. 

Thorin blinks, suddenly realising that he hadn’t answered Bilbo’s earlier question. “Oh. No, I would not want to run the risk of damaging it,” he confesses. “Though I am sorely tempted.”

“This was my mother’s favourite painting,” replies Bilbo. “I put it here after she died because it hurt too much to look at.”

“Such is the way of good art,” says Thorin. “They remind you of people. Things. Reopen wounds you thought long stitched-up.”

Bilbo sighs. “If you wanted this painting —” he begins, but Thorin shakes his head.

“It is yours,” he says. “It is a memory of your mother. To me, it is but a lovely painting of the Shire in the early hours of dawn. A peaceful sight I will never see.”

There is no one else in this room, no other heartbeat but Thorin’s beside him. And yet Bilbo’s mind is overwhelmed, his own heart barely keeping apace with the dizzying need to be ever closer to Thorin. 

“It is curious,” continues Thorin’s voice, now at a low, thoughtful rumble that tugs at something deep in Bilbo’s gut, “how a painting with people in it can still make you feel so alone.”

Bilbo doesn’t realise the warmth he’s clutching onto is Thorin’s hand until it’s too late. Thorin’s hand engulfs his own, comforting yet strange. Bilbo feels all too aware of his presence beside him, all too aware of the tension sizzling low and sweet between their bodies. 

“It reminds me of mornings in Erebor,” says Thorin after a moment, his hand still not leaving Bilbo’s. In fact, he seems to cling on with the same amount of desperation, as if they are two mariners left adrift in a shipwreck at sea. “The sun rising along the eastward slope of the Lonely Mountain, casting the fields of heather and scrub into seas of gold. I would wake with the dawn just for this moment of peace, before my duties set in at breakfast.” 

“Being here, so far from Erebor, must be driving you mad,” jokes Bilbo.

A shadow passes over Thorin’s handsome face. “Madness drove my grandfather and father from the throne,” he confesses. “I can only hope it will not take me.”

Oh. “I’m... I’m sorry.” Bilbo swallows. He makes to remove his hand, but Thorin clings on all the harder, exhaling in one, deep sigh. 

“I do not wish to trouble you,” he confesses. “The pressures of the Crown are my responsibility, my burden to bear in light of my father’s weakness.”

“It doesn’t have to be a burden to bear alone,” replies Bilbo before he can stop himself. Thorin seems to consider that for a moment, before gently extricating his hand from Bilbo’s grasp. 

Bilbo misses Thorin’s warmth the moment it is gone. 

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Down to Business

So, a lot of the Magnificent Scoundrels series is me sitting here and thinking, “you know what would be awesome?  If ____ happened.”  You know what would be awesome?  If three fan favorite factions, the Starfleet from Star Trek, the Quarians from Mass Effect, and the Adeptus Mechanicus from Warhammer 40k got together.  

“Power has been restored!  By a guy with metal tentacles.  Mmm…  Think of all the possibilities...”

“Ramirez, get your mind out of the gutter.  That’s an order.”

Mass Effect Galaxy

The Citadel

The lighting flickered inside the massive meeting room for a brief moment, and the various screens located in front of the delegates died with mechanical sighs.  Delegates looked around the room, moments away from panic.  Bodyguards readied their weapons once more, most eyed their ancestral enemies with suspicion.  Down in the delegates section, Drake rolled his eyes, annoyed at their response

“Well, what now?” hissed Vir to Shepard.

“First-” Shepard was cut off by a static hiss in his ear, followed by a voice that seemed to be panicking but trying not to show it.

“Shepard, this is Joker.  Uh, we got a pretty sizable and unknown attacking fleet coming in, and that power surge disabled all the docking clamps.  So, we’re kinda sitting ducks here unless you do something.” 

“The docking clamps attaching the Omen to the Citadel are locked down,” said Vir, clearly getting off a conversation with someone on his crew.  “How do we release them?  And, who the hell is Joker?”  

“Joker’s my pilot,” muttered Shepard.  He keyed his comms once again.

“Tali, this is Shepard.  Can you release the docking clamps?”  A strangely accented voice responded.

“No.  I don’t have the skills to hack into the Citadel’s central network.  Plus, it would take too long.”  

“Shit,” Shepard muttered.

“All of our ships are locked down, and now this station is under attack!” yelled one of the delegates.  Shepard didn’t quite catch who it was.  

“Can’t you do anything to fix this?” shouted someone else.   The salarian Councillor looked up from a frantically beeping holographic console.   

“We’re trying,” he snapped back.  “Somehow, someone disabled most of the Citadel’s vital systems.”  

“Damnnit,” muttered Vir.  “This is not good.”  

“Not shit,” replied Shepard.

“Commander, this is Joker.  We are seeing armed troopers on the Citadel.  A lot of ‘em look like Cerberus, but some of them I don’t recognize.”

“Cerberus?” questioned Vir, but Shepard was already pacing and muttering to himself.

“Cerberus doesn’t make any sense… they wouldn’t want to attack the Citadel.  Not now, especially.  Something screwy is going on.”  

“We can’t do anything about figuring anything out unless we fix the problem at hand,” said Vir.

“But how?” replied Shepard.

It should be noted that most people realize that fate has a delicious sense of irony.  Therefore, it should have come as no surprise that help came from a most unexpected source.  

One of the delegates of the Imperium of Man finished speaking with a voice in his comms, and with a surprised nod, looked out into the various groups settled into the Council chambers.

“Quarians!  Who are the Quarians?” he bellowed.  Now it was Shepard’s turn to look surprised.  The Quarians were a race of nomads, having lost their homeworld to machines of their own creation long ago.  Due to their unique immune systems, they had to wear bodysuits and masks at all times.  Most individuals in the galaxy looked down upon them in the false belief they were untrustworthy thieves, and every other race saw them as second class citizens.  They had no seat on the Council, and, unlike many others, were not a client race of one of the Council species.  In fact, the only reason there were Quarian diplomats here at all was because Shepard insisted.  Now, of all the groups present, the highly xenophobic Imperium specifically wanted them.  

Slim faces, masked and hooded, looked up at the Imperial delegation.  

“We are the Quarians.  What do you want?”  Their accent was the same as Tali, Shepard’s chief engineer, noted some distant part of Vir’s brain.  Interesting, but not important right now.

“What frequency are your communications on?”  The Quarians looked at each other, clearly expecting something else.  

“Uh, 3091.”  The Imperial diplomat relayed the numbers back to someone else.  There was a brief pause, then the previously dormant console in front of the Quarian delegation lit up.  A synthesised, metallic voice cut through the various diplomats’ squander and filled every speaker in the room.

“I hear your kind is quite good with techno-theocracy,” it began without preamble.  “I can return all functioning systems to the Citadel, but I cannot interface with it.”  The voice spoke as if the Citadel was some sort of giant creature, able to be talked into proper performance.  “I need you to provide me with an interface.  I also need a cognator with enough power to broadcast my signal.”  The hell-

“What’s a cognator?” hissed Vir.  

“I believe your word for it is ‘computer’.”  Cain’s voice sounded through the Scoundrels' private communications channel.    

“Good to hear from you, Commissar,” replied Vir.  Sheaprd was already speaking to the wide room.

“They need a computer.  A really powerful one.  Anyone here have that and some really skilled people to liaison with the Quarians and… uh, metal voice there?”  Kirk raised his hand instantly.  

“We do!  The Starfleet is at your service.”  

“Excellent,” replied the metallic voice.  “Provide me with interface to your blessed cognators, and Quarians, provide me and them interface with the Citadel.  Then we shall see about restoring your systems.”

Aboard the Enterprise

The Enterprise’s crew, looking neat in their Starfleet jumpsuits, ran around the bridge, doing everything in their power to break free from the Citadel.  White and grey walls and panels dully reflected the neat white overhead lights, giving the entire room a clean and futuristic appearance.  Chief Engineer Scotty was already on the bridge.  Spock stood next to him, huddled over the central console.  

“Right, put this in now: 001, 543, 893, 115, 221, 101, 618.  It should work now,” said Scotty.  

“Excellent,” replied the voice.  “You certainly know your way around appeasing machine spirits.”  Scotty looked up at Spock.  Spock shrugged and gave him a clear ‘hey, I don’t know either’ look.  

“Uh, thanks, I guess.  What’s your name, by the way?” “I am designated as Archmagos Spericles Kaustus.  Please, tell me your designation as well.”

“Montgomery Scott.  You can call me Scotty.”

“Very well, then, Scotty.  All that remains now is to speak with the Quarians.”

Aboard the Watch Eternal

Utterly massive windows, more suited to a gothic cathedral than a starship, allowed the Eternal’s crew to look out into the black void of space.  Murals, depicting actions of heroes long dead, were painted on every available inch of wall.  There were no interior lights in the bridge, which served to give the massive room a dark and eerie demeanor.  Officers ran from workstation to workstation, observing the Deathwatch chapter serfs that crewed this vessel.  The captain sat in the middle on a large and imposing silver throne, metal tubing snaking from his head, allowing him to know what was happening on the ship at all times.  Captain of the vessel he may have been, but he did not command it.  This was a Deathwatch vessel, and so it fell to the Watch Captain of the Space Marine strike force to do so.  

Currently, the massive, power armored bulk of the Watch Captain was not quite huddled over a strange looking individual, but rather gave the impression he would have been huddling had the action not been genetically bred out of him.  

“Archmagos Kaustus, this… seems like heresy,” came the Watch Captain’s booming voice.  The strange individual glazed up for a moment.  Glowing red lenses, framed by a blank metal faceplate peered from beneath a voluminous red and black robe.  Seemingly hundreds of additional metallic arms and tentacles sprouted from beneath the robe, and all were currently occupied with typing at an entire workstation console at once.  They did not stop their work at the Captain’s words.

“Do I tell you how to do your job?” replied the Archmagos’s blank metallic voice.  “Do I tell you how to best serve your Primarch and the Emperor?  Do I tell you how to best kill the alien enemies of man?  No, I do not.  So please do not tell me, a tech priest of the Mechanicus, what is and is not tech-hersey.”  The Captain frowned from beneath his heavy helmet.  

“Very well.  You have always served the Deathwatch and Inquisition faithfully.  I leave you to your business.”

Aboard the Niqunus

“Admiral, we’ve been contacted by the Starfleet and… the other guy.”  The admiral looked up from his cramped position on the starships’ tiny bridge.  Quarian ships had to be lived in, and so there was no room for the luxury of open space.  An engineer welded wires together in the background, framed by grey plastic and open metal.  Despite their starships being old, there was no better group in the galaxy for getting metal to hold together like the Quarians.  

“Very well,” replied the admiral.  “Locking Starfleet systems to the Citadel.”  She pressed a holographic button in front of her and spoke.  “Scotty.  Archmagos.  We have interfaced your systems.  Prepare to transmit.  

“Excellent.  Transmitting code now.”  

It should be noted that to synchronise computers and other technological systems from three separate realities, all completely different from each other, was quite the impossible task.  Later, when trying to gain control over a lost shuttle, the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation ordered a team of their finest scientists to make the shuttle’s computers compatible with theirs.  It took the team eighteen months.  The Quarians, with the Starfleet’s help, did it in seven minutes.  

In the same vein, it should also be noted that to write a code to take personal control of the Citadel, a massive space station, guarded by the finest technological traps money could buy, would take any normal person weeks, if not months, to write.  Tali-Zorah, one of the finest engineers and technological masters in the universe, and chief engineer of the Normandy, could do it in the span of hours to days.  Kaustus did it in four minutes and forty-nine seconds.  

Headquarters of Citadel Security

The Citadel

Captain Bailey of Citadel Security turned over the long counter and fired his sidearm twice.  He could smell the visceral stink of blood in the background, courtesy of a dead officer behind him.  His bullets found their mark, puncturing through the armor of a Cerberus trooper.  Damn them.  A solid quarter of C-Sec officers throughout the Citadel had turned traitor, and upon the arrival of the enemy, turned their weapons on the backs of their unsuspecting comrades.  Bailey didn’t understand what had happened, but he did realize alien and human alike had betrayed their oaths.  Therefore, with logical deduction, the pro-human terrorist group Cerberus was not the mastermind of this.   It didn’t stop him from cursing out whoever was attacking him wearing the terrorists’ logos, though.  

“Captain Bailey, I believe,” came a sudden voice in his ear.  He almost jumped out of his skin.  It was cold, emotionless, and strangely metallic.  

“Who is this?” Bailey managed to blurt out before ducking back into cover.  

“Archmagos Kaustus.  To restore your stations, systems, I need you to do as I instruct.”  Bailey glanced around, disbelieving.  

“Uh, sure.  What do you need me to do?”  

“Go into your station’s central terminal.  Reboot it.”  

“That’s it?”  

“Affirmative.  We’ve taken care of everything.”  Bailey shook his head.  

“Okay.”  He crouched low and ran through the station.  Luckily enough, the building was still under control of the actual C-Sec.  Didn’t stop people from trying to shoot into it.  He reached to long central control desk and looked at it.  Power.  Simple.  Press the button.  He did so.  

“Okay, uh… rebooted it.”  The voice came immediately.

“I know.  Excellent work.  Your systems shall be online and under your control shortly.”  Bailey sat down.  The computer screens started to run with green binary code.  He stared.  What the hell is this?  I’m no expert, but I don’t think anyone’s used this kind of coding for a hundred years!  The green scrolling numerals gave way to a strange symbol, a half human skull, half metallic face surrounded by a cogwheel.  The system's diagnostic came up next, in a format he’d never seen before.  It was easy enough to read, though, and he stared at it. 

Docking Clamps: Online

Citadel Central Network: Online

Internal Communications: Online

P.A. System: Online

Citadel Security Communications: Online

Power Operating At: 120% Capacity

Defense Batteries Operating At: 160% Capacity

Glory to the Machine God!

What the ever-loving hell is this?  And how can things operate at more than 100%?  He shook his head and turned on the newly-online comms.  

“Everything’s back, Councillors,” he reported.

The Council Chambers

“Everything’s back, Councillors.”  A wave of cheers rose at this announcement.  Drake held up his hands once more.

“Whoa, whoa.  We still have to get rid of these guys.”  He turned his gaze to a group of delegation boxes.  “Cain, Master Chief, Solo, Kirk.  Get the delegates to safety.  The rest of you, you're with me.”  Vir shrugged to Shepard.  At least they would be part of the action.  Drake clapped his hands dramatically.  “Get moving!  We don’t have all day.”  With a nod to Shepard’s position, he disappeared behind his delegation.  

Servos whirred as Vir’s Iron Eye armor came to life.  Shepard hefted his rifle.  

“Time to get this show on the road.” 

There it is.  If you have any questions, comments, concerns, requests, or criticisms, feel free to tell me.  Like I said before, this series is just about, “hey, wouldn’t it be cool if ____ happened?”  So, if think something would be awesome and you want to fill in that blank, tell me, and I’ll write it!  

[julimond92]

The DLC Legacy Challenge

CreatiI wanted to share a legacy challenge that I came up with to change up my own gameplay and explore more content in TS4. Each generation focuses on one DLC. It does not follow the traditional/original legacy rules as I haven’t assigned any points or anything like that. It also isn’t a super elaborated challenge. The player can choose themself what kind of story they want to tell with each generation.

Disclaimer: I do not own Vampires, Realm of Magic, or Star Wars GP packs nor any of the new kits, so any gameplay included in those DLC is obviously not included in the challenge. All other packs are included in the order in which they came out (last generation = Snowy Escape, 14 generations total). If you don’t have all the DLC, you can simply skip a generation. You may share this challenge, but please link to my tumblr. 

Have fun and let me know what you think! Happy simming! :)

Rules: Each generation must produce an heir, but there are no rules as to who can be an heir, that’s up to the player. Adoptions are allowed too. You may only proceed with the next generation (= move them out) when the next heir has a) reached the Young Adult life stage, and b) the previous heir has fulfilled all their objectives. You may, however, start working on the succeeding heir’s aspiration etc. while they still live with the previous generation. The objectives do not need to be completed in the order they appear here. If an heir has fulfilled an aspiration, a new one may be chosen. Each new heir starts out with starter funds (§20,000) on a new lot in the world assigned to that generation. You may play in a Tiny Home and use those perks if you own that pack. If you want, you can limit each generation’s CAS and B/B to their respective pack. However, you can always include other gameplay aspects from other packs too. Spares and spouses’ traits and aspirations may be chosen freely. One objective for each generation is to get married. You may opt to neglect that objective and choose to play with other types of families as well. Just make sure to have a subsequent heir for the following generation. The legacy is intended for a normal life span, but you may change to longer/individual. I just wouldn’t recommend short life span :D You may use CC and mods to enhance gameplay as long as it doesn’t give you an advantage with any of the objectives (no cheats allowed!). 

Disclaimer: Parenthood GP has not been assigned for a specific generations as I feel those gameplay features will be used anyway in raising generations.

Gen 1: Founder -- Base Game

World: Willow Creek

Career: Writing -- Author

Aspiration: Knowledge -- Bestselling Author

Objectives:

max. career

max. writing skill

max. 1 additional BG skill

fulfill aspiration

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

Gen 2: Get to Work

World: Newcrest

Career: Doctor / Police / Scientist (any of the GtW active careers, you choose!)

Aspiration: Love -- Soulmates

Objectives:

max. career

fulfill aspiration

max. baking skill

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

finish elements collection

if you own Outdoor Retreat: vacation in Granite Falls at least once

Gen 3: Get Together

World: Windenburg

Career: Style Influencer -- Stylist

Aspiration: Popularity -- Leader of the Pack

Objectives

max. DJ skill

max. dancing skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

if you own Spa Day: max. wellness skill

Gen 4: Dine Out

World: San Myshuno (if you own City Living, if not choose a BG world)

Career: Critic -- Restaurant / OR: own and operate successful restaurant

Aspiration: Fortune -- Fabulously Wealthy

Objectives:

max. cooking skill

max. gourmet cooking skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

collect all food photos

if you own City Living: acquire all city recipes

Gen 5: City Living

World: San Myshuno

Career: Politics -- Politician

Aspiration: Location -- City Native

Objectives:

max. singing skill

win karaoke contest

max. career

fulfill aspiration

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

live in a penthouse

participate in all festivals at least once

collect all posters

collect all snowglobes

if you haven’t done so in Gen 4: acquire all city recipes

Gen 6: Cats & Dogs

World: Brindleton Bay

Career: Vet -- Own and operate pet clinic

Aspiration: Animal -- Friend of the Animals

Obejctives:

max. vet skill

max. pet training skill

fulfill aspiration

(get married)

own pet clinic

breed pets

showcase pet

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

collect all feathers

If you own Bowling Night SP: max. bowling skill

Gen 7: Jungle Adventure

World: Oasis Springs

Career: Secret Agent -- Diamond Agent

Aspiration: Nature -- Jungle Explorer

Objectives:

max. archaeology skill

max.  Selvadoradian Culture

max. career

fulfill aspiration

collect all artefacts

explore all caves and hidden places in Selvadorada

get married to a Selvadoradian

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

Gen 8: Seasons

World: Windenburg

Career: Gardner -- Botanist

Aspiration: Nature -- Freelance Botanist

Objectives:

max. flower arranging skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

(get married)

celebrate all seasons and holidays

successfully change the weather at least once using the weather machine

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

have at least 1 child complete the scouts career

finish gardeining collection

own a ‘farm’ on 64x64 in Windenburg

secretly own a cow plant

Gen 9: Get Famous

World: Del Sol Valley

Career: Actor/Actress

Aspiration: Creativity -- Master Actor/Actress

Objectives:

max. acting skill

max. media production skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

own a house in the Pinnacles

get married to celebrity

have excellent reputation

be a 5 star celebrity

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

have a child fulfill after school acting

win an accelate

Gen 10: Strangerville

World: Strangerville

Career: Military -- Covert Operator

Aspiration: 1) Location -- Strangerville Mystery; 2) Knowledge -- Nerd Brain

Objectives:

max. fitness skill

max. career

solve Strangerville mystery

fulfill both aspirations

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

collect all postcards

Gen 11: Island Living

World: Sulani

Career: Conservationist -- Marine Biologist

Aspiration: Beach Life

Objectives:

max. career

fulfill aspiration

max. guitar skill

marry a mermaid/merman

become friend with a dolphin

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

collect all shells

collect all hidden treasures

Gen 12: Discover University

World: Britechester (you may move to another world once you’ve graduated)

Career: 1) Student; 2) Mechanical Engineer 

Aspiration: Knowledge -- Academic

Objectives:

max. research + debate skill

live in a dorm for at least one semester

max. robotics skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

get a distinguished degree

join an organization / a team

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

join secret organization

Gen 13: Eco Living

World: Evergreen Harbor

Career: Civil Designer -- Green Technician

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Objectives:

max. juice fizzing skill

max. candle making skill

max. fabrication skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

make world’s footprint green

change all common lots

have self-sufficient home

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

If you own Nifty Knitting SP: max. knitting skill and teach your child how to knit

Gen 14: Snowy Escape

World: Mt. Komorebi

Career: Sales Person -- Expert Branch

Aspiration: Athletic -- Extreme Sports Fan

Objectives:

max. skiing skill

max. climbing skill

max. snowboarding skill

max. career

fulfill aspiration

visit all festivals at least once

collect all simmies

(get married)

have at least 1 heir to continue (adoption is OK)

explore all hiking trails

[vventure]

Pairing: Ennoshita Chikara x American!reader

Genre: Fluff

Plot: Rain? Not ideal, but Chikara won’t let it ruin a perfect opportunity.

HaikyuuWriters’ Monthly Prompt Event - Prompt: Summer

Word Count: 2020

Warnings: None

All characters are aged to 20+

A/N: Me? Writing fluff? More likely than you think djfkd My family has been going to the lake every summer for about 15 years now, so I wanted to share a little bit of that while also including Ennoshita and his Capricorn stellium. From my research, those with Capricorn stelliums in their natal charts like to plan in advance, and the best way forward is through. Hope you enjoy! I tried to make it enjoyable for those who aren’t American as well <3

Dappled light sparkled over white knuckles as the small convertible wound its way around sharp bends under your direction. Your begrudging passenger, Ennoshita, held your hand as though his digits were a snapping turtle that’d finally caught its prey. He was no coward, but the bottomless ravines caging the road coupled with the seasoned driving of a person unafraid of kinks in the path of the vehicle set his teeth on edge.

“You don’t trust my driving?” You queried, peeking over to discover his normally shiftless face uncharacteristically tense behind his dark sunglasses.

You’d rented the car when your flight landed in America and Ennoshita insisted he would drive the entire way to the lakeside cabin in the mountains. Having never driven while placed on the left side of the car he did remarkably well; it was a treat to observe his handsome profile as warm air blustered through his short locks. 

The confidence he’d possessed then evaporated the moment the road urged him to maneuver around a curve, prompting your boyfriend to pull over and admit he needed his designated passenger to take over, explaining that since you’d grown up driving ‘this way’ you should be the one to do it.

You understood his hesitation. When you’d moved to Japan for university, the only transportation you felt comfortable using was the train, the bus, or your own two feet. These modes took you far, but Ennoshita took you farther by offering to drive when you were too intimidated to even learn.

In this moment, the regret rolling off of him in waves was palpable even in the open air of the compact car.

“I trust you, I do,” he spoke feebly. “It’s just that...are you sure you’re okay with driving? It’s been years since you’ve done this.”

“I’m sure, baby,” came your response laced with finality. You lifted his hand to your lips, skimming them delicately over the smooth skin of his knuckles as you approached another twist in the road.

“Pay attention!” He cried, his rock-solid composure slipping as his free hand clapped over his eyes; the car continued to glide smoothly along the asphalt.

“I am,” you intoned against his hand before smiling. “Relax! You never get this worked up.”

“Don’t like when plans change,” he mumbled, a pout creasing his visage.

“What?”

“I just don’t like when things don’t go the way I planned.”

“I know,” you said with an inaudible sigh. “Don’t stress, just go with the flow.”

“Easier said than done,” came his garbled response that you chose to ignore. This was just the way that your boyfriend was: he was happiest when things worked out exactly in the manner he had planned. 

“We’re almost there, smooth sailing now.” 

You could see him visibly relax from the corner of your eye as the road straightened out ahead, the turn onto the graveled drive leading to the lake house approaching quickly. The view that each person navigating the narrow road gained when pulling into the driveway of the wood-clad cabin made the rattling of brains over potholes and oversized crushed rocks worthwhile.

Pine trees so tall they could tickle the sky framed the expanse of the crystalline lake with powder white clouds embedded in pristine cerulean reflected along its surface, inviting any passerby to dip their toes into the chill water.

Hopping out of the convertible, you were eager to grab the groceries and assist Ennoshita inside when the lake captured your attention. This happened every time your family visited your go-to location for summer vacation. 

There was something about the lake that made it your solace. Not so much the lake, but the memories shared here, like kayaking through hidden alcoves at dawn, swimming out as far as possible until your brain begged you to go back lest you be captured by a non-existent lake monster, and burning marshmallows over a fire that blazed too hot for too short a time as mosquitos buzzed away from your bug-sprayed skin.

The lake acted as a looking glass for you, sending snippets of the past through your mind as you leaned against the front of the car.

“[Y/n]?” Ennoshita prodded, his arms laden with plastic bags. “I’ve got everything, are you coming?”

“Oh!” you responded, snapping from your reverie with a small smile. “Let me help you.”

--

His mind was almost always consumed with plans. Planning for becoming a physical therapist from the beginning of high school. Planning the perfect way to ask if you’d like to see a movie with him after he met you in a general education class at university. Planning out what you both were looking for in a shared apartment and how to make it the best location for your careers. Planning how to make your relationship permanent.

He hated the saying “Change is inevitable,” and throughout life he’d worked to ensure that no matter what happened he stuck to his guns and completed the task at hand, so why did this sudden alteration of his image for the day feel different?

Dread had settled in Ennoshita’s spine, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing stock-straight as he peered out over the tumultuous lake from the enclosed porch of the cabin.

The day had risen beautifully with the sun beaming along the peaked waves as boats skipped across the water. He was overjoyed to wake up to your beautiful face glowing in the morning light. Although the itinerary for the day seemed run-of-the-mill--preparing barbecue chicken and then enjoying a bonfire once it was dusk--there was something special that he wanted to spring on you that demanded perfection from the atmosphere.

The atmosphere was a fickle entity to work with, and his optimism surrounding the day was lashed down by pouring rain. It hammered against the once tranquil water and afforded the lake an ominous appearance, almost as if a monster was preparing for the perfect moment to show its grisled face. Dark thoughts were a hallmark of his mind on its descent to self-doubt, though he rarely stood at this precipice due to thorough plotting.

There was no way that he could explain this to you without revealing his hidden agenda. How was a chicken barbecue and bonfire supposed to be a special occasion? You’d tell him to move the dinner plans to tomorrow and order pizza in, problem easily solved. 

“Storms roll in fast,” you explained, your voice rising in volume with every step you took towards him. These were the first real words you’d spoken to him that weren’t whispered affections across the valley between your pillows in the dark. Translating for each set of parents had been all-consuming, but rewarding, leaving no time for conversations between lovers.

“I have to start the coals,” he said, placing his warm hand between your shoulder blades. “Where can I find an umbrella?”

“Let’s just order--”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, kissing you on the cheek. “The chicken won’t be good tomorrow anyway.”

“There’s a big yellow umbrella in the coat rack just inside the doorway,” you explained. “Let me at least help you.”

“No, stay in here so you can translate, it won’t take me that long to get this cooked up.”

Ennoshita quickly snatched the bag of marinated chicken from the fridge and the cheery yellow umbrella and made his way down to the grill to find your father standing over it, the coals smoking as they heated.

“You didn’t have to do that, sir,” he called in english to the man standing dangerously close to such high heat. “I was just coming down. Why don’t you go inside, I don’t want you to get sick.”

It was thoughtful of him to assist and save Ennoshita the time it would take to get everything set up. Now, all he had to do was dump the coals and start grilling. Rain sizzled along the white-cast charcoal nuggets as they cascaded into the belly of the grill before he put the grate over top. Water was already accumulating along the slotted metal as it sat waiting for food to be placed upon it. This wouldn’t work, the downpour might affect his ability to cook everything thoroughly. 

So Ennoshita sacrificed his comfort for the fate of dinner.

‘Not ideal,’ was the understatement of the year as Ennoshita stood in a cloth hoodie with rain soaking him all the way through. He steadfastly held the yellow umbrella over the hot grill as the marinated chicken cooked and took on flavor as though it were another sunny day at the lake.

No matter what, this was going to happen. He wouldn’t let rain ruin this evening.

It was fine if he was soaked, he could change quickly and meet everyone for dinner before the chicken was too cold. The best way around any obstacle is through.

The sound of the rain was so consuming that he hadn’t realized you were approaching until the rain was no longer sluicing off his face, a warm hand now firmly against his back. Looking up, he spotted a black umbrella now hovering over him to protect him from the elements. And to his left, there you were in your hoodie, your palm against his abdomen, and your eyes full of concerned love.

“What’re you doing out here?” He asked before turning to examine the food. 

“I told you I’d help.”

“Don’t they need a translator?”

“The language of afternoon judge shows is universal,” you quipped teasingly, to which he returned his usual bored look. “They’re okay for now, I think they were just preparing the side dishes.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said. 

“But I wanted to. Besides, we haven’t talked in days. I miss you.”

He smiled down at you, drinking in how your face still glowed with an inner beauty in the murky twilight and how the shine in your eyes never dulled by any undesirable circumstances. 

Giving you a small peck on the lips, he finally tore his eyes from your face and deemed the chicken ready for the family dinner.

--

Laughter flitted through the open screens of the porch where Ennoshita stood surveying the sight that greeted him once he was dried off and changed: five of the most important people to him stood around the fire pit. The rain had cleared to reveal a nearly blinding cherry sunset capped with deep plum, its appearance reflected on the now-calm lake it oversaw.

Japanese and English were quickly replaced by laughter as you reminisced and told jokes over the past, even Ennoshita’s least favorite childhood story of putting on a musical all about his stuffed animals for his mother surfaced in the jovial atmosphere.

Something about the way you stood, your back turned so you were merely a silhouette in the saturated light, had his eyes locked onto your form as you swirled and sipped from the wine glass in your hand between the two families he hoped to unite. 

People spoke of moments where everything dropped away and it was only the other person in front of them. Things often fell away for Ennoshita when he was focused on achieving a goal, superfluous people and emotions blurring, so he thought he knew what these so-called people were talking about. He was wrong.

Now he knew, watching your head tilt back to free the lilt of your laugh, this was the moment he’d been missing out on. Perhaps he’d experienced it during your first kiss, or even when you’d said yes to moving in with him—but this was different. The moment he’d planned this entire trip for had come, and he ceased his nervous fiddling. 

Although the day wasn’t perfect, you were.

“Chikara,” came your sweet call, your upturned face adorned with an affectionate smile reserved for him alone. “Come join us!”

The sound of your voice drew him from his thoughts, the square velvet box he’d been fidgeting with dropping to the bottom of his pocket as he made the journey downstairs to join the group. 

Any plan could change as long as he had you.

Taglist: @miyuswriting @burnthoneymint @bb-noya 

[monkeebratz]

Gotham Seamstress Marinette - Wayne Gala

I should sTILL BE UPDATING BIO!DAD BUT HERE I AM AGAIN

Initial Idea | Uncle Ozzy | Wayne Gala (you are here) |

So we have the whole Cobblepot Crew at the Wayne Gala. Mari is off wondering, scribbling away in a palm sized sketchbook all the ideas this beautiful place is giving her! (She smuggled it, along with Tikki and Sass, in her purse. Its a little crowded but they can snuggle.) Peri is following behind her quietly, smiling to herself. Not that anybody can see. 

Meanwhile Gale and Ozzy have started talking to dear ol’ Brucie boy. At this point, its been a couple years since Ozzy has declared his vendetta and has calmed the fuck down. It also helps that Bruce is not suck a dick about things and Ozzy can relax the stuffy old Gothamite Socialite act around him. They get to talking and Bruce kinda chuckles about how he heard Oswald brought a plus one? Who’s the lucky lady? And he points out Mari, who’s slowly making their way back to the Cobblepot Crew with Peri gently steering her in that direction. And Bruce, dad of all dads, immediately sorta puffs up. “Oswald.” 

“Eh? What, Brucie boy?” 

“That’s your plus one? She can’t be any older than my youngest-” 

“Oh, get your bird-brain out of the gutter! Just doing this as a little favor to the girl, she’s my favorite seamstress, y’know. Made me and the Girls outfits for this little soiree, her own dress too. Figured I’d get her some more... legitimate business, you see. Sweet songbird’s had a rough go, recently.” 

And Bruce is even MORE side eye-ing bc wtf does all THAT mean, Cobblepot? Wtf? Should he be Batman concerned or Bruce Wayne concerned? There’ll be a full blown investigation in the Bat Cave when he gets home from this but for now he puts on a smile as Oswald introduces them. Mari is, of course, completely flustered. What an honor to meet Mr. Wayne himself! The Gala is so pretty, and she’s heard all about his charitable work, she’s such a fan! 

Bruce is kinda blown away by this little French Sunshine Child and gives her the Father Smile, letting her ramble. Ozzy is preening bc hell yes, his Songbird has Bruce Wayne’s approval. Bruce asks about her designs for the Cobblepot Crew and commends her skills. Gets Mari out for a dance and then she’s dancing with everybody! Bruce, Ozzy, the Girls, even some strangers. Its a great time! 

Bruce introduces Mari to Damien, who is unimpressed and bored out of his mind. He can appreciate the aesthetics of Mari’s designs but holds to the idea that she shouldn’t be so willing to design for criminals like The Penguin. Not that he says any of this out loud, of course. Offers to take Mari out for a dance and there’s a lot of Mari apologizing for being such a horrible dancer. (It was one thing with the Cobblepot Crew, who she knew didn’t mind, or Bruce, who seemed so nice. But Damien is sorta angry looking and she’s nervous as hell.) Damien tells her its no problem and manages to lead her around with minimal toe tromping. 

BUUUUUT of course this couldn’t last, right? A certain blonde model boy notices Mari and breaks up their dance. In the middle of the dance floor. Like the oblivious boy he is. 

And you have panicked French as Adrian grabs Mari’s arm and keeps going on about how glad he is to see her! Where has she been, doesn’t she know how worried everybody has been? Mari, how could she leave him like that? Really, he knew she was upset about the little mishap with their identities and his Father, but did she have to throw such a tantrum about it? 

Marinette, meanwhile, is digging her nails into his wrist and trying to get him off of her, practically tripping on her dress in her haste to get away. Adrian still has a firm grip on her arm, though, and she falls back into Damien who, in perfect French, is asking what the hell does he think he’s doing Agreste? And Adrian puffs up and tells him that he doesn’t need to worry about it, its none of his business-! 

(Mari stops panicking long enough to catch Ozzy’s eye and the Girls make their way over with extreme prejudiced. None of them notice Marinette grabbing something from Adrian’s finger and slipping it into her purse. Nobody but Damien.) 

The Girls pull Adrian away from Mari and Damien and there have their claw hands out, making those upset bird coos. Adrian is kicking about and Bruce is getting an explanation from his son, while Ozzy is trying to comfort Marinette. Its a disaster. 

And then. It gets worse. Because Gabriel fucking Agreste notices the commotion and his sons name attached to it and goes over to figure out what the hell is going on. 

He grips the back of Adrian’s neck and shakes him a bit because he recognizes Mari and, of course, apologizes profusely for his behavior Miss Marin-

“Mari. Its... Its just Mari, now.” 

And Gabriel just nods and apologizes again. “Miss Mari, then. I’m sure this incident will not affect our... agreement?” And Marinette shakes her head and Gabriel nods again and drags Adrian off to leave because not only is this embarrassing, this could jeopardize everything! You stupid, stupid boy!

Mari’s scrubbing tears away from her face and Bruce is apologizing profusely, he had no idea she knew the Agreste’s, or he’d have ensured they didn’t have to interact, and Mari tells him its fine, he couldn’t have known. 

Ozzy bundles her up and takes her back to Arthur’s and seethes. The Agreste’s might be having a little accident soon. He drops her off and Mari shuts herself up in her room and slips on the ring and Plagg fizzes into existence and Tikki tackles him and its an emotional night for everybody. 

Because you see, when Marinette has found out Gabriel and Adrian’s identities as Hawkmoth and Chat Noir, she’d panicked, and when she’d confronted Gabriel and learned why he was doing what he did... She helped him. Used her Guardian training, and Tikki, to fix the Peacock Miraculous, and heal Mrs. Agreste. In return, Gabriel gave her both the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculi back, saying good riddance as long as he had his wife back. Marinette agreed to keep this between them, as long as he worked to fixing the damage he’d caused, with the city, its people, and his family. And Gabriel has sworn to, less she go back on her own promise to ensure Mrs. Agreste’s health. 

Adrian had, of course, figured out Marinette’s identity as Ladybug, and what she had done for his family, and gotten... worse. Not horrible, really, but gradually going from not taking her denial of his advances but becoming more and more pushy about it. Because of course they were meant to be together! And idk if any of you have ever dealt with men like this but its awful. Because Adrian doesn’t understand that what he’s doing is only scaring Mari, and the worse he gets, the more scared she gets. The more desperate to get away. And one day, when Fu names her the official Guardian, she does. She flees to Gotham and never looks back, because Fu remembers so little now, and her family had ignored how her love for Adrian had turned into fear. Everybody had. 

So she left. And here she was. 

(As far as the Fu thing goes, I haven’t watched season 3′s finale(s) so please don’t spoil them. The idea of Fu losing his memories has more to do with the fact that he’s almost 200 years old and the human body just isn’t made to last that long, magic or no magic. So he starts losing his memory and doesn’t always recognize Marinette so in a moment of clarity he passes the torch, unfinished training or not. Marianne comes to live with Fu and take care of him, remind him of things. They didn’t have their time in their prime, but they’ll take it now.) 

Tag List! If you’d like to be added, please send me an ask! Just a little easier for me to keep track of that way, lol

@destinationdesignation @xxmadamjinxx @emjrabbitwolf @meg-chi @officiallyathiana @graduatedmelon @seraphichana (I’m so sorry I can’t figure out why it won’t tag you?) @theatreandcomicfreak @beaversuenightly @7701deathlyhalfbloodprincess

[morningstarwriting]

College AU

So this was an idea that popped into my brain and I had to write it. I don’t know if this has already been done, but if it has oh well. I had a lot of fun writing this as it was my first time writing for Obey Me! I hope that you enjoy it! 

───────────────────────────────────

「 Lucifer 」

This man will be a lawyer

Don’t argue with him

He’s always right

Mainly cause he’s majoring in psychology

But he’s not stopping there

He’s actually double majoring

Psychology and History

And it ALSO doesn’t stop there

He’s getting a minor in philosophy

This means that he’s going to school for five years instead of four though

He’s so insanely intelligent though

He psycho-analyzes his brothers all the time

The only ones who don’t really care about what he has to say are Belphegor and Satan

They regularly plot against him

He always knows it

He blames it on daddy issues

This just means that even when he’s with his brothers, he’s constantly working

Always doing his schoolwork

He’s also the Vice President position of Student Government

He was beat out for the President position by Diavolo

And forced his brothers to join in the other positions

He’s also an Admissions Representative

He’s the perfect person to look at applications and determine if people are suited to attend his school

Diavolo also has this job with him

They spend countless of hours together all the time

And he knows that people ship them

He knows

There is one thing he refuses to take part in on campus, though

The only Greek life you’ll catch him in is an Honor Society with Greek Letters in the name

He isn’t the biggest fan of Greek Life

Or parties

However, he was convinced to go to a party by Asmo once

Never again

The biggest perk for his brothers is that he’s so ridiculously busy

That he can’t really constantly be on their cases

At least that’s what they think

He finds his ways

He finds a lot of ways

「 Mammon 」

He went into school as an accounting major

Big Miss Steak

He… wasn’t the best at it

He didn’t necessarily hate it

But he wasn’t thrilled about it being his major

Lucky for him

He was required to take a fine arts course

He decided on photography

And boy oh boy

He fell in love with it

Taking pictures was a Big Yes from him

He was really good at coming up with poses for his models

And most times the people in his class would ask him to model for them

And that’s when he started getting into modeling

And he loved that even more than photography

So naturally

He googled what he should do to become a model

And he found out you don’t necessarily need a degree

But Lucifer would NOT let him drop out

So, he saw that a few majors would help

Luckily for him

Photography was on there

But there was another that caught his eye

Fashion Merchandising

And here we have it

The brother who everyone sees as a dumbass is a double major

Who would have thought?

Not his brothers

Now don’t get me wrong

He barely passes his general education classes

But his major classes?

Easy

He loves them

He has shown up to class many times hungover, though

That’s what happens when you’re in a frat

Yes

Our boy Mammon

Is in a frat

He’s in the frat that puts on the best parties

They don’t let him spend money on anything anymore

They learned that the hard way

He’s also in Student Government, courtesy of Lucifer

He’s the Director of Public Relations

He considered running for treasurer

But all of his brothers reminded him of all the things he’s spent money on

And bet money on

And lost money on

He decided against treasurer

When it comes to partying

Mans goes hard

Doesn’t give a fuck

Does it all

Except hard drugs

…

Only that one time

Thank God Lucifer was there

「 Leviathan 」

If you think he would major in anything other than video game design you’re wrong

He went in looking to be a general programmer

And then he saw the words “Video Game Design”

He changed major immediately

He’s perfectly happy with just Video Game Design

But he is getting a marine biology minor

He’s always been fascinated with the ocean

And the creatures in the ocean

So he decided a minor would be a neat idea

He could also totally use his knowledge to design a dope ass underwater themed game

Which high key may be his thesis project

He really doesn’t get out much

He stays home the majority of the time

Gaming

Watching Anime

Reading manga

Lucifer literally scolded him for always staying in his room

Never going out to do anything with anyone

Levi tried to tell him playing games was basically his homework

But Lucifer was having NONE OF IT

So, to shut him up

Levi looked at the clubs the school offered

He nearly screamed when he realized there was a Japanese Manga, Anime, and Gaming Club

He quickly became the president of that

He’s also a part of Student Government with the rest of his brothers

He’s the Media Representative

He runs all the social medias for the Student Government

And he’s damn good at it

He’s frequently on his phone during meetings

And he’s the only one who’s allowed to do that

And he may use it to his advantage

He needs to know what happens in the next episode of the anime he’s watching

He doesn’t have time to listen to Lucifer and Diavolo preach about things damnit!

He also doesn’t have time for

Shudder

Parties.

Just the thought of going to a frat party makes his skin crawl

What a normie thing to do

Sadly, for him

He’s frequently forced to attend them

Thanks Mammon

He just follows Mammon around like a lost puppy

He gets flustered any and every time anyone talks to him

One time, Mammon thought alcohol would make him feel more confident

…Mammon should not have provided Levi with alcohol

Too many things happened

Things the two never speak of to this day

N E V E R

He apologizes to Ruri-Chan every day for his mistakes on that night

「 Satan 」

VETERINARY MEDICINE

HE DOESN’T CARE HOW LONG IT TAKES

HE WILL TAKE CARE OF ANIMALS

Almost bit Lucifer when he reminded him, he’d have to put down animals too

Lucifer then proceeded to call him an animal

But seriously

Satan wants to be able to help animals in any way he can

He’s well aware he will have to put some animals down

But he knows he won’t have to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary

He’s also going to be a whole ass doctor

Fuck off, Lucifer Esquire

Here comes the DOCTOR of the family

Literally took up a job just to get away from Lucifer

He works as a librarian

He loves it

He’s constantly reading

And I mean  c o n s t a n t l y  r e a d i n g

He’s the nicest librarian ever

Just

Don’t talk too loudly

Or destroy a book

Or do anything stupid

Because he will go off

He doesn’t tolerate stupidity

Not in his safe space

He’s on track to get a certificate in writing

So please

Do not interfere with literature

He’s also on track to get a certificate in Women and Gender Studies

So do not interfere with women’s rights or equality in front of him

He will not be happy

And he’s horrifying when he’s angry

Same thing goes in Student Government

He’s the Parliamentarian

And he does the job well

You either follow the rules

Or you get a talking to from Satan

Nobody wants a talking to from Satan

The only person who isn’t necessarily afraid of him is Lucifer

But Lucifer never breaks the rules so Satan can’t pop off on him

Satan might watch him like a hawk just to see if he messes up eventually so he can yell

He never catches him doing anything wrong

He catches Mammon doing plenty wrong, though

Constantly on his case for staying out too late

Mammon always blames it on his frat

And Satan always rolls his eyes

Similar to Lucifer

The only “frat” he’s in is an honor society with a Greek name

He considered joining the “smart” frat

But he decided against it seeing as Mammon was in a frat

He didn’t want to be associated with him

Sadly

He can’t escape it

Every party he goes to

Mammon is right there

Every

Time

Satan doesn’t understand how he does it

To avoid the feeling of dread he just

He drinks as much as possible

He doesn’t party often

But when he does

He

parties

The amount of times he’s gone out with his brothers and then disappeared only to come home after some crazy shit happened to the rest of them?

So many times

He doesn’t have time for their foolishness

He parties to get away from them

You know sometimes he just needs a break from his family dynamic

Even though when he gets drunk, Lucifer usually gets a voicemail

And… it’s soft

Satan has no idea those voicemails exist

Lucifer keeps them for blackmail

He also just keeps them to remind himself that Satan has a heart and isn’t a fucking dick to him all the time… don’t let the insult fool you, he actually really cares for Satan and hearing him be nice is pleasant

「 Asmodeus 」

He is a fashion design major

He’s known what he’s wanted to do since he was a child.

He’s been making his own clothes for years

People always stare at him because wow he looks good

He also decided to minor in music

Specifically focusing on his voice

Boy can sing

And sing he does

Sometimes Belphegor tells him to shut up

To which Asmo responds with

“I can’t hear you over my Grammy Award worthy voice! Did you say something?”

Before Belphegor can respond

Asmo is singing again

It’s futile

He never stops

That helps him in his Acapella Group though

He loves singing with them

Invites his brothers to every performance

Actually, gets happy if they show up

He’s the treasurer of Student Government

He’s actually very good with his money

He basically runs his own mini fashion business after all

He not only creates clothes for himself

But other people too

And don’t even get me started on his make-up looks

He’s literally an icon

He walks into a room and people know exactly who he is

He also has a YouTube channel

Focusing on fashion and beauty

He’s decently popular

And he loves it

He’s the other one in a frat

His frat is the most popular on campus

Everyone knows it

Everyone knows the people in it

And he loves the attention

So many girls and guys on campus throw themselves at him

And he loves that too

He always treats whoever he decides to bring home with him like royalty

Even though he’s had several hook ups and one-night stands

People don’t mind

Because he’s

1)

AMAZING AT IT

and

2)

HOT AS FUCK

He knows it

And he is not afraid to show it

He parties every night

Like actually

If he isn’t partying, it’s concerning

He’s one that believes that college are the best years of your life

And he isn’t letting that slip away from him

No matter how much Lucifer yells at him to stop partying all the time

Of course, partying is also an excuse for him to ignore some other things

So, he does it a lot

When he’s with someone else is when he’s happiest

So, he always makes sure to be with another person

「 Beelzebub 」

Bet you think he’s gonna major in culinary science

WRONG

That’s his minor

His major

Is Family and Child Science

He wants to help people so bad

Especially children

He wants to do everything in his power to make sure that children live happy lives

So, his main goal in the end is to either be a school counselor or a crisis counsellor

He’s very serious about what he does

And he holds some past trauma

So, he wants to make sure people have someone to talk to when bad things happen

Of course, he also loves making food

He loves eating it more, though

But honestly

He’s a student athlete

Of course, he needs food

He’s always moving

He’s the captain of the American football team at their school

If he wasn’t going into child services

You’d best believe he was going into the NFL

Mans can PLAY football

It’s also really nice to have him in Student Government

Because the student body actually respects them because of it

He’s the secretary

It’s always nice when Lucifer asks Beel for the notes they took that meeting

He hands them over

Super detailed

Perfect, even

He always pays attention

He’s great at listening

And he knows how much it means to Lucifer

So, he never disappoints

He isn’t in any other clubs other than student government

But that’s because he’s on teams

Like I said, one hell of a football player

And if he’s not home making food or doing schoolwork

He’s at practice

Or just at the gym

He’s always bettering himself

And he’s certainly a campus heartthrob

It’s always fun going out with him

because he is the heaviest of all the heavy weights

His record for taking shots is twenty-one

That should have KILLED HIM

It didn’t kill him

BUT

That’s definitely his limit

That was an interesting night

Beel is just happy that his brothers happened to be there

He wasn’t too happy when he realized Mammon did something even more stupid than taking twenty-one shots

Lucifer made sure they were both okay though

Which Beel appreciated

He just… avoids vodka as much as possible now

Too many bad memories

At least from what he can remember

「 Belphegor 」

Like Beel

Belphie really cares about the mental state of people

Not children specifically

Just people in general

He’s just

Not cut out to be a counsellor

He doesn’t have the personality for that

He needs to do something that can actually take his sarcastic ass and allow him to use it for the better

SO

He does some research

And something catches his eye

Rehabilitation Coordinator

Specifically Rehab for drugs and alcohol

He’s no-nonsense enough to enforce the rules of the facility, but still be able to care about these people

And become one

He needs to go to nursing school

This is difficult for him

He really enjoys sleeping

And this whole getting up early for clinicals thing?

Not ideal

However

After talking to his advisor about it

And by talking

I mean just straight up telling him he’s nocturnal got severe insomnia and waking up early is a no go

He gets put on the night shift

And that does wonders of good for him

The brothers barely see him

He’s either in class, asleep, or at the hospital

The only brother he ever really makes time for is Beel

They’re twins

Of course, he’s going to make time for him

A lot of the time, Belphie will return home around the same time Beel wakes up to go on a morning run

So, they have breakfast together

Because of his chaotic schedule

The only club he’s in is Student Government

And he did his best to snag the easiest position

The Reporter position

He just

Submits stories to the papers in the area

That’s it

He loves it

It’s so easy

Lucifer has to remind him to do it sometimes, though

He doesn’t mean to forget

He’s just got a lot going on

He needs to memorize he human anatomy, Lucifer

Some things are more important

He rarely goes out

He isn’t fond of parties

Even though he’s a night owl and enjoys the occasional drink

There are too many people

The main reason he goes is to make sure Beel doesn’t get too wasted

Not after that one time

But he did party a little hard when he found out he passed a test that he needed to get higher than a C on to stay in his major

He celebrated

Sleeping was the last thing on his mind that night

He was so hungover in the morning

[scarpool-gmk]

6 Part 2

Title: Godly Marine: Killed Author: Scarpool Fandom(s): NCIS, Percy Jackson & the Olympians Pairing(s): Gen Rating: PG/K+ Summary: Chapter 6 Part 2 (8/13) — Staff Sergeant Michael Kahale, Marine Corps Mechanic and Son of Athena, was murdered. Annabeth Chase is determined to find out who did it and why. She, along with Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood, and Clarisse La Rue, infiltrate NCIS where they team up with NCIS Agents Leroy Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, and Ziva David. Complete Genre: Fanfiction, Mystery, Drama, Humour, General, Action Warnings:  N/A

-Κλαρίς-

Clarisse had to hold in laughing as she saw Annabeth's eyes bulge in fascination as Gibbs used the iris scanner. With a hiss and a clunk!, the doors unlocked. He heaved the door open. "Welcome to MTAC, agents."

"Wow," Annabeth whispered as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Sweet secret base you guys got going on," Clarisse praised.

"Thanks!" McGee beamed like he was the one getting complimented. "It's decked out with some great technology sensors. It's completely separate in terms of technology, components, and connection from the rest of the building. Best monitors, state-of-the-art firewall, and the-"

"You guys do any movie nights in here?" Clarisse cut in.

"I-well no. I mean, uh, maybe? I wouldn't know anything about that," McGee spluttered.

Clarisse smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

"McGee," Gibbs said, saving his agent, "Connect us up with the Staff Sergeant's C.O."

McGee hurried to do as he was told, working with a row of tech. Clarisse wouldn't want to get too close to any of those. Could probably get the entire monster population of the East Coast fixated on their position with those many wires. Annie, Prissy, and Goat boy wouldn't appreciate it. Would make one heck of a battle story, though.

Gibbs, Annabeth, and Clarisse stood in front of the huge screen.

"Morning, agents," the commander said when he flashed on the screen.

"Nice to meet you, Commander," Annabeth said.

"I would rather have not, Special Agent Lima, Gibbs. I take it you still haven't found out who took out my mechanic."

"No, Commander," Gibbs said, "And it seems your mechanic was into a case of his own."

"What do you mean?"

"We believe he was following leads that might uncover cartel movement in D.C.," Annabeth explained.

"Can you tell us anything about anything the Staff Sergeant was involved in?" Gibbs asked, "Any ops that he was assigned?"

"No, sir. This is the first I'm hearing of this. He was designated to go on tour; we were called in to head into NAMRU-6."

"Peru?" Gibbs questioned.

"It was going to be smooth sailing," the commander affirmed. "A secret mission…He was one hell of a mechanic, and even then…"

"Commander?" Annabeth pushed.

"He was too smart for his own good. He wasn't going to be a simple Staff Sergeant for long. In fact, I'm surprised he held out for this long. His excellent, strategic mind and fighting skill, especially in close combat, had placed him in the fast lane for promotion. He may have wanted to be a simple mechanic, and I know he declined several offers, but as good as he was, he gained the attention of those who could force him into positions."

Clarisse frowned. Sounds like Michael had been way too noticeable. She didn't even think that the Navy and Marine corps would inspect mechanics that thorough. How did they test his strategy making?

"Sounds like he was a special case," Clarisse said, "Did he get any flak from his crewmates because of it?"

"Not really, ma'am. He wasn't exactly a social person to begin with."

"He never got into any disputes with anyone?" Clarisse asked.

"Only one, but I've learned to keep them apart."

"Reason?" Gibbs asked.

"Uh, they just didn't see eye-to-eye."

Clarisse almost snorted. Translation: he had no clue. What kind of Officer in Charge was this guy?

"Who's the soldier?" Annabeth asked.

"First Lieutenant Adrian Rodriguez."

"He antagonize a lot of people?" Gibbs asked.

"No, sir. He's actually very well-liked. It was very strange that he turned confrontational with Kahale. Same with Sergeant Kahale."

"And you have no idea as to why this was." Gibbs didn't phrase it like a question. At least they were all on the same page.

The C.O. on the big screen shrugged. "Those are two of the sea's finest. Rodriguez is soon to become Major. They don't have so much as an excuse to hang around each other anyway."

This time, Clarisse didn't bother hiding a sound of disbelief.

"Where is he?" Gibbs asked at the same time as Annabeth said, "Tell us about him."

Clarisse stepped back so the two could glare at each other better.

"He's a skilled Marksman," Commander Oblivious replied, "knows a lot about on-the-spot- field medic stuff…sings pretty good, too." Clarisse shared a glance with Annabeth. That sounded familiar. Annabeth would probably say that it was a textbook definition. Nerd.

"But he has not left the ship," the commander continued, "he's been on board the entire time."

"Then call him over," Gibbs said, "Maybe we can help solve what his problem with Michael Kahale was."

"You can't think-"

"The more we know about our victim, the better we can predict his movements and motives," Annabeth consoled.

The commander ceded the point and nodded at some staff who promptly left the room, presumably to find the First Lieutenant. He turned his attention back to the NCIS agents.

Gibbs continued on questioning him. "Did Staff Sergeant Kahale ever mention an Annabeth Chase?"

The man on the screen frowned. "The name rings a bell; give me a sec." He shuffled some papers around. "Oh! Yes, as one of the emergency contacts. Right there under his father. Annabeth Chase, relation as his sister."

Annabeth showed nothing. Instead, asking, "What is the contact information?"

"A phone number with a New York area code."

"Read aloud the number, please."

The commander read out the numbers as Annabeth instructed. Clarisse immediately recognized it as the mainline to the Big House.

"It's a different number than the one he called," Annabeth said.

"McGee," Gibbs called, giving silent instructions.

"Already on it," McGee said, "Number is to a farm, Delphi Strawberry Service. Located in Long Island."

Clarisse mentally cursed and tried not to self-consciously fidget at the glare Gibbs gave Annabeth.

"But he never spoke about his family. Or friends. Or life. Again, not the most social guy."

There was movement in the back, as the staff member came back with a soldier, who promptly stood at attention.

"First Lieutenant Rodriguez, meet NCIS Agents Gibbs, Lima, and…"

"La Rue," Clarisse supplied.

"First Lieutenant," Gibbs greeted.

"Sir!"

"At rest, First Lieutenant," Annabeth said.

Gibbs started the questions as Rodrigues shifted his stance. "What's your relationship with Staff Sergeant Michael Kahale?"

The soldier frowned, confused. "He was a mechanic assigned to this vessel, sir."

"We're told that you were uncharacteristically disruptive around him."

"Yes, but I haven't been in confrontation with him, as per C.O. orders. If he's said-"

"First Lieutenant Rodriguez," The C.O. cut him off, "Sergeant Kahale was shot two nights ago."

"Shot?" Rodriguez said in shock, "But… we're home…"

"We know that you've been on board the entire time," Annabeth said, "We just need to know more about who Michael Kahale was."

"I-I understand, Ma'am."

"What made you dislike the Kahale, First Lieutenant?" Clarisse asked him.

"It's not that I disliked him, ma'am. Kahale was actually a good guy. Introverted, sure. But he was a good soldier, amazing smart, and easy to talk with. But I…" He faltered. "I don't know. For some reason, the friendly conversations always turned into some sort of fight? Like a challenge I couldn't lose to? I guess?"

"Don't sound sure of yourself," Annabeth noted.

"I can't explain it. Every time, it just led to a fight over any stupid, little thing. I honestly don't know why. I don't expect any of you to understand."

Clarisse heard Gibbs sigh tiredly and mumble, "Oh, I understand perfectly."

"Can you give us some examples of what you fought over?" Annabeth asked.

"They were stupid, ma'am. Like over the name of a future vessel. He thought it should be named USS Zeus. I said it to be USS Jupiter. We also fought over his position. Kahale was a good Marine but could've been even better. But he kept at being a non-commission mechanic because he had an issue with the control of our Superior Officers. I know he even declined a promotion to Warrant Officer. He disliked how strict military life was and preferred the more laxed nature of the machinists. He believed that individuality and improvisation held more value in the field than the collective skill of the group and rigid structure. He did not trust others with making decisions for him and disliked giving orders himself. But I know several of my brothers who have similar opinions, and I've never fought them over it."

Annabeth nodded, humming softly and deep in that brain of hers.

"Did he ever mention some sort of mission?" Gibbs asked.

Rodriguez blinked. "No. Nothing ever like that."

"Mexican Cartels? Arms dealing?" Gibbs fished.

"What? No!"

'Freaking Hades,' Clarisse thought, 'I hope this information isn't supposed to be kept low profile.'

"What about mythologies?"

The First Lieutenant stiffened. He was definitely a demigod. Clarisse would have to see if Chiron knew an Adrian Rodriguez.

"What do you mean?" Rodriguez tried playing off.

"Gods, Roman myths, Greek heroes, monsters, that sort of stuff."

"No."

"Then that's all we need from you, for now, First Lieutenant," Gibbs said, taking a glance at Annabeth.

"Catch who did this to my mechanic, Agents," the Commanding Officer said before the connection cut off.

Gibbs didn't waste any time.

"What am I missing here?"

Annabeth lifted an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Some random mechanic gets murdered hours away from his assigned vessel because he was uncovering an entire operation that was way out of his league. His dying words were to some girl whom he listed as an emergency contact with a Long Island number. Suddenly, I've got NCIS agents from a Long Island branch I've never heard of. This case has brought too many outside factors, and I have the feeling my team is out of the loop on specific information that can make this case more manageable."

"We know as much as you do," Clarisse retorted, "And missing information comes with the job. This is a mystery. We investigate and find the answers, complications and all."

Gibbs considered her for a moment before relenting and leading them back out of the heavily secured room. "Fine. I'm going to head to the bar. McGee, get DiNozzo to call the Strawberry Farm. I also want the personal files of First Lieutenant Rodriguez and his C.O. Ziva! Gear up." He looked around at the rest of the agents expectedly.

"Er, trying to squeeze out info of Cartel movement in the area," DiNozzo said, "Not much luck."

"Talked to Abby," Ziva picked up next, "Her professors were able to translate some more of the notes. This Doughnut place is apparently definitely arms dealing with the Reynosa Cartel. Sinaloa involvement is suspected. Middle East connection is pure speculation. Michael also noted that he believed he was found out because he smelled."

DiNozzo made to comment but was silenced by a look from Gibbs.

"I'm still IDing all of Mr. Tarsibo's victims," Grover said.

"And customers," Gibbs added.

"…And customers…"

"No mention of Monster Donut on the web," Percy reported, Annabeth's laptop in hand, "Making sure that if anyone finds it, we'll be the first ones to know."

Gibbs nodded and then headed towards the elevator with Ziva in tow. Clarisse admired the way his silent command to get back to work hung in the air. Except for one problem.

Clarisse was back in the bullpen. She hated it.

-Ζήβα-

Ziva was debriefed about the meeting with the commander on the way to the Drowsy Owl.

"If the Staff Sergeant was being seen by superior officers and the Commanding Officer didn't know anything," Ziva said, "Perhaps our Staff Sergeant was granted a mission."

But why give such an advanced and dangerous mission to a mere mechanic?

"Michael Kahale had been in service for five years," Ziva said, answering her own question. "They had given him training- maybe advanced secret in-training. Kept him officially as a mechanic, using it as a cover."

"But why send him on a case that without providing him resources?" Gibbs asked.

Hm. True. Michael Kahale had lacked money, cover, and backup. The time limit was horrendously short; what he uncovered in such a short amount of time was astonishing. If he hadn't ended up dead, she would have thought that it was a controlled mission.

"You said that First Lieutenant Adrian Rodriguez responded to the mention of mythological connection. Is it possible that whatever mission the Staff Sergeant was on, was not external but internal? An internal audit? But if Rodriguez was his target, he would have responded to the reference of cartel involvement."

"What if the Cartel wasn't initially apart of this operation?" Ziva thought back to her previous line of thought. "What if Rodriguez was involved? As Michael's partner. The First Lieutenant is thought of highly as well."

"Don't get caught up on theories," Gibbs warned.

"Maybe I should just follow my gut," Ziva teased.

"It's always worked for me," Gibbs said.

"What does it say now?" Ziva asked. She looked at him when he did not answer.

"It tells me that the Long Island Agents know something that they aren't sharing."

Ziva frowned but said nothing.

They came up to the store. "See if anyone has seen Tarsibo," Gibbs said.

"Not many people to ask," Ziva grumbled.

Reshaun Sachs was beginning to blindly invite them to choose a place to sit until he looked up from pouring a pint of bitter. "Let me guess," he said, "Navy cops."

Ziva and Gibbs flashed their Identification.

"This about the young Marine or something else?"

"Same one," Gibbs said.

"Didn't realize you had such big teams."

"Neither did I."

Ziva sent Gibbs a look and decided to change the topic, unfolding the blown-up photo of Tarsibo.

"Do you recognize this man?"

"Sorry. No."

"He seems to be a customer of yours," Ziva pushed, "He may have been here during the past week."

The bartender frowned, "If he passed those doors, I would remember. Especially from this week." Ziva nodded. She didn't find him to be lying. There were other ways waste from this place could have gotten to the car rental.

"Do you mind if I talk to your customers?" Ziva asked

Sachs shrugged. "You can, but all of these guys are regulars that just come for their lunch break."

Ziva assumed as much. She left Gibbs to converse with the man.

Sachs was surprised that they had found traces of his business as far away as East Maryland. Like Gibbs, Ziva was getting her own list of negative answers.

She walked around the bar, trying to envision it on a full night with businessmen, college students, and Mrs. Kahale with her entourage. It was an open area, which meant open conversations that could be the center of attention or hidden by those that took that position. The only place that was really hidden was the way to the restrooms, which had its own hidden hallway that led to a back exit. That was where Ziva excused herself to answer her buzzing phone.

"What is it, Tony?"

"Get into any bar fights, yet?" Tony used as a greeting.

"It is still a bit early, but it has happened before."

"Well, don't go too hard on them. People who go this early are there to drown something."

Ziva thought of the three businessmen in the bar hunching over their drinks. He was too right. "As I'm sure you know, Tony."

"I'm not that old," he said.

"You are what? Forty?"

"No!"

"Mmm, but I'm close. How many years am I off?"

"…Two. I'm still young, just have a few years of experience."

Ziva hummed. She didn't tell him that she had more years until she hit thirty.

"Well, I'm sure you didn't call me just for this."

"No, I'm here to update you so you can update Gibbs."

"Why not call him instead?"

"Figured he'd be doing some unofficial interrogation. And I would never break that rule."

"Well, what do you have."

Tony sighed, "Pretty much nothing. Got in connection with the Director of the Strawberry Service, a Mr. Dee. Took forever to get a final answer. 'I have a faint recollection of an Annie Bell.'" Tony droned in imitation, "'Yes, the girl is quite a trouble seeker, although she is one of the brighter ones I have had to deal with. Says a lot about them. However, she left. I don't expect her to be back for a while.' That was fifteen minutes into the conversation. He ends with an 'I grow tired of your pitiable blather.' And just hangs up."

Ziva snickers. "Doesn't sound like a reliable witness."

Ziva could imagine Tony shrugging in the squadroom, "It's what I got."

"Alright. Thanks." Ziva hung up the phone and accidentally stumbled when she bumped into something. Or rather someone "Oh, sorry I-" Ziva stopped as she got a look at who she almost toppled. It was a young man who had just come out of the lavatory. He was of an average built, a bit on the shorter side with a head full of blonde hair. He was in some sort of customer service uniform, a nametag still latched on. But Ziva only gave it an unconscious look over. No, she was more captivated by his eyes. They were a sickly green, and the iris seemed alive, swirling like snakes in a pit. And were those scales on his cheekbones?

"Agent?"

She blinked, and all those features were gone. Snake filled eyes replaced with light hazel ones. No scales either.

"I'm sorry," She told the man who had snapped her out of her stupor. Just what was that? "For bumping into you," she specified.

He smiled at her, "No problem."

She watched him leave her, heading for the back exit. How did he know she was an Agent? Was her badge showing? No… Who was he? She searched her brain for the answers. Wait. She had seen his nametag before getting distracted by his face. (She shivered at the recollection. Was it something she ate?) Then it hit her; the nametag had a cheesy 'Hi, I'm Tommy' in Comic Sans Font. It also had a logo of a one-eyed monster munching on a doughnut.

"Monster Donuts," Ziva breathed out in realization. The back door slammed shut. "Hey!" Ziva shouted, "Wait!" She ran toward the door. Before she exited, she remembered that the store was arms dealing, and anyone connected to it should be handled as armed and dangerous. Pulling out her firearm and quickly collecting herself, she slammed her way out and was met with… no one?

Ziva surveyed the area, circling in a three-sixty. There was no one there. How could he have gone that fast? He was only out of her sight for a few seconds.

Gibbs was not going to be happy with her.

After making sure to uncover any possible hiding places, she went back inside empty-handed.

Gibbs frowned at her as she entered. Ziva trusted him to connect the dots and directed her words at Sachs.

"You didn't say you had someone in your restroom."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Gibbs change his stance, a mixture of weariness and drive to get the truth. However, the bartender seemed utterly confused. "There was? Oh, I had completely forgotten…"

Ziva shared a small look with Gibbs. Sachs seemed muddled all of a sudden. Strange and convincing. Ziva hadn't thought this man to be a good actor.

Ziva described him, more for Gibbs's benefit than Sachs's. "Yes, about this tall, blonde, green eyes, wearing a Monster Donut uniform."

Sachs's face lit up in realization. "Yes! He was one of the guys that the woman hangs out with, the one that the other agents knew, a Mrs. Kahale." His eyebrows scrunched together. "I can't believe I forgot about him coming in…"

Ziva shared another look with Gibbs. Either this man was telling the truth, or he was the best actor Ziva had encountered. Gibbs, although not outwardly changing his calm demeanor, seemed as dubious as she was.

"If he or anyone else from Monster Donuts come in," she said, "Please call us."

"They are connected with this Marko Tarsibo guy? What have they done?"

"A number of things," Ziva said.

The man gave an inquiring stare. Ziva expected that how dangerous they were could affect his business if he let continued to let them be customers at all.

"They are connected to arms dealing, Ziva said. "Also, have a connection to the death of multiple murders, including children."

"They've killed kids?" The statement seemed to call Sachs back from his confounded state. "You said that this guy was a part of this and that he was a car dealer, right?"

The agents nodded.

"The kids, were they middle-school-age? Older girl with Asian features?"

Ziva scrambled for her phone, bringing out the profiles of the most recent child victims. She shoved the phone in the man's face. "Are these them?"

"Yeah, I know them. They had come in, ordered some soda, burgers, and fries. They looked pretty street-savvy, I kept my eye on them to make sure no one slipped them anything or took an order for them. I got something about how they were headed for the Carolinas, I guess they needed a ride. That woman, Mrs. Kahale, spoke with them for a bit. I didn't hear what was said, but if they needed a ride and she knew this dealer, she could've gave them to him."

The NCIS agents didn't give him time to finish as they rushed out the door.

-Περσεύς-

Percy would never get an office job. He thought being a Federal Agent would have been so exciting. Sitting on a desk doing the same thing over and over again was killing him. He kept getting distracted by the happenings outside. (Hey, those windows were huge. Not his fault the outside world was more entertaining.) He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty every time Grover would snap him out of his daydreaming. He was supposed to be helping make official profiles of each victim, so that a) the families could be notified, b) Dr. 'Ducky' could analyze and create a deeper understanding of General Botsaris and his victims, and c) so that Annabeth could report back to Chiron, and they could contact the families of the demigods.

Percy did have to admit that Tony's conversation with Mr. D was quite funny. Although, he was only able to hear one side of the conversation.

'No, not Annie Bell. Annabeth.'

'No, I am not here for strawberries.'

'Yes, wine sounds wonderful, but-'

'So, did she work there or not? What do you mean, who? Annabeth Chase!'

And it just continued. Percy had cracked up as the agent repeatedly smacked his head on his hand while talking to the exasperating god. If only he knew how it felt to deal with Mr. D on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis.

Unfortunately, that was what felt like an hour ago. McGee had sent a file to Tony a while later and was on his way to escape to 'help Abby run prints.'

"I'll be using the system," McGee told Grover and Percy, "Hopefully, it won't slow down too much."

"It shouldn't be a problem." Annabeth walked in, looking a bit disgruntled after her talk with Chiron. "Although we are using the same system, it's coding and routes have changed, meaning it can still use the data and have access to an ever-updating network while not really using the same path and program you'll be using."

Percy would have totally zoned out from that explanation if it wasn't for Grover nudging him to make another profile.

McGee made a face. "You can do that?"

"Not really. It's the computer."

"What are the specs?" McGee leaned in to check Daedalus' laptop's design. "What's the brand? I don't recognize it."

"It's experimental."

"Huh, well I'm going to-"

"Not so fast, probie," Tony called.

Percy looked up. Tony had better not been calling for him. He eased up when it was apparent he was talking to McGee.

"Rodriguez also uses disposable, pre-paid phones," Tony said, "But he makes regular family calls. If we searched his family's phone records, we would find a record of regular calls coming in but from different numbers? Wouldn't that be the case if Michael did the same?"

"But we already checked the Kahale's phone records, Tony," McGee said.

"No. We only checked Patricia Kahale's, and she said she didn't even know Michael even joined the Marines. Daddy, however, had a better relationship."

"And when Percy and I spoke with him," Annabeth said, "He gave me the impression that he knew about Michael joining."

"McGee, pop up the man's phone calls," Tony said.

McGee shared his screen on the plasma. Window screens flashed on and off as McGee used keyboard shortcuts lightning quick, even using long sequences of code that Percy didn't know could be memorized.

"Okay, filtering for numbers that are no longer in service."

"Wow, that's a long list," Percy said. They weren't going to have to go through some sort of procedure on each one, were they?

"He is a lawyer," Grover said, "He must get tons of scam and calls from one-time numbers."

"It doesn't matter," Annabeth said.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter," Percy asked. Was Annabeth okay? How bad was the call with Chiron?

"I mean, I've found what we're looking for." She pointed to a six-minute call starting 12:52 A.M. yesterday morning. That was right before the approximate time of death.

"It's not the same number the Staff Sergeant used," Tony said.

"A spare phone," Clarisse said, "He uses one phone call on a pre-paid, dumps it, and then uses the second to make another call."

A demigod technique. Annabeth and Chiron told him of it when he went outside of camp. The only time it was safe to keep a phone after making a call on it was in or right by camp. Otherwise, it was a traveling beacon for monsters.

"The father made the call," Tony said, "McGee, can you find the location where the burner picked up?"

McGee clicked a couple of times. "Washington, D.C."

"Alright," Tony said. "I'll call Gibbs, and we'll pick him up."

"Sweet, let's go," Percy said.

"Wait, Percy," Grover said with big eyes, effectively killing Percy's hope. "I still need your help with this."

"It's fine. We got this," Tony said, him and McGee rushing toward the elevator.

Percy watched them as they disappeared with a ding. Great, the three people that were the least qualified for desk jobs were the ones left at the desks. At least they had Grover to stop them from accidentally blowing up the place and being labeled as domestic terrorists, yet the way the satyr was inhaling those paper clips didn't bode well.

The phone at Tony's desk started to ring. The four of them stared at it for a second. "Should we get Tony back?" Percy asked.

"Ugh," Clarisse rolled her eyes. What? What did he say? Gods, she was just so annoying. 'And rude,' he added as he watched her get up and answer the cop's phone, but he already knew that.

"Yeah," Clarisse greeted. She was silent for the ten seconds as the caller spoke. Percy wasn't even surprised as the daughter of Ares slammed the phone back down without another word.

"They found Botsaris's car," Clarisse said.

'That at least deserved a 'Thank You,' was Percy's immediate thought.

Annabeth jumped up. "Let's go."

Finally! "Did you get the address?" Percy asked, excited to get out.

"Duh."

Grover looked around as all of them got ready to head out. "Um, should we tell-"

"No!" Clarisse and Annabeth both said, or growled in one case.

Grover held his hands up in surrender. "Okay."

Percy made sure everything he needed was on him and swept the desk clear of a small pile of broken pen clips. When had those gotten there?

"Let's kick some butt!" Clarisse grinned. Percy couldn't agree more.

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[echo-bleu]

Come Home

This was originally written for the Whumptober prompt “Embrace”, that I posted on AO3 but never here. @spaceskam reminded me it exists the other day... It’s not new, but I didn’t have time to create anything new, so it’s my entry for day 3 of the Missing Alex Manes Weekend ( @alexmanesappreciation).

MAJOR tissue warning. This is not a major character death, but...it comes really close.

[brain cancer, discussions of death, grief/mourning]

1.

“Genocide is the alien's intent for us during a systematic invasion. They're perfectly designed to kill!” Flint exclaims. “One of them can give you a brain tumor just by touching you!”

“Jim Valenti,” Alex blinks in shock. “Did Dad do that?”

“Subject N38 did,” Flint spits out. “They're coming. The question is whether or not we'll be ready.”

Alex shakes his head. “You're just as committed to the cause as our old man.”

“Dad didn't send you, did he,” Flint realizes. “No, Dad would never send you.”

Alex shifts. He sees Flint's hand move toward his holster, to the gun Alex just gave him back, and he prepares to move. It lasts exactly two seconds, until he hears the clicks of more guns cocking. A quick look around him tells him he's surrounded.

How did he miss them coming in?

“I'm sorry, Alex,” Flint says. He truly looks sorry. “We can't let you leave this place with what you know.”

They were here the whole time, Alex realizes. Flint's presence destabilized him and he was careless.

Alex slowly raises his hands, gun held loosely in his right. He's outnumbered one to seven. There's nothing he can do. He just hopes Michael and Kyle will make it out. Oh God, Michael. If they catch him−

He bends down to put the gun on the floor. One of the men−military, all of them, though Flint is in the Army and Alex can spot at least one Marine uniform−comes up to him with handcuffs. Alex doesn't resist.

“Come on,” Flint says.

He leads them to another room, filled with more weapons and equipment. Alex looks almost hungrily at the computers, knowing that he could get all he information he needs right there. But the bulky airman holding his cuffed arm makes him stumble, and he almost falls, barely catching himself. The pain that shoots up Alex's leg brings him straight back to his present situation.

Flint doesn't seem to be aware that Alex is not alone, and things need to stay that way. He needs to keep them away from the surveillance monitors he can see on one side of the room. The only thing Alex can do is give Michael and Kyle time to run, and hope they're not going to play heroes.

He has his doubts about that. There are dozens of aliens kept in cages downstairs, if he's interpreting what he's seeing on the surveillance videos correctly. Michael is never going to leave them here.

Flint is on the phone. Alex can't hear what the other person is saying, but he recognizes the unmistakable patterns of their father's voice. And even if he hadn't, Flint's tone would have told him.

“We captured him breaking into the facility,” Flint explains. “Yes, sir.”

Alex strains to hear his father, but he can't make out the words. Flint suddenly looks hesitant.

“But it's Alex, sir,” he says. “Are you sure?”

Hesitant turns to conflicted. “I would rather not.” Then to resigned. “Very well, sir.”

Flint motions to one of the Airmen to approach, and gives him the phone.

“Master Sergeant?” the man asks. He listens for a moment. “Yes, I will take care of the prisoner, sir. Right away.”

Flint's look at Alex is sorry and sad, but he looks away when Alex makes eye contact. Just from that, Alex knows his fate.

The Airman takes his arm again, roughly, and forces him to walk too fast, too hard. Alex knows there's no point in fighting, but he still struggles against the restraints all the way down to the cells' level, almost falling down the stairs several times.

They stop in front of one of the glass door, and Alex feels his spine go cold at the sight of the old man in it, and the sign on the side of the door. Subject N38.

“Open the door,” the Airman order the guard.

Flint looks away, as they push Alex inside.

2.

Kyle waits until Alex has almost reached his house to drop him off to ask. “What happened back there? Before the explosion, I mean. They got you?”

Alex keeps looking straight in front of him at the road. “For a while, yes,” he answers, forcing the words out. “I'm going to need you to book me an MRI.”

“What?” Kyle asks, confused. “Why?”

“I got confirmation that my father was probably the one who killed yours. By way of an alien. Subject N38,” Alex says. “I'm sorry.”

Kyle opens his mouth, even more confused. “We saw him,” he says. He starts saying something else, but Alex can feel the moment he understands.

“No,” Kyle gasps. “They didn't.”

Alex briefly closes his eyes against the tears threatening to fall. “Flint−” he starts, but his throat knots up. He's going to die by his brother's hand, on his father's order. What a family.

“What didn't you say anything?”

“We had more urgent things to take care of. And you and I both know there's nothing to be done.”

Kyle punches the dashboard. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. We're going to find some way. Maybe Liz and I can−”

“No,” Alex says. “We are not telling anyone about this.”

“But why? If we can cure you−”

“But we can't. Project Shepard needs to be shut off, and the alien serial killer, whoever it is, needs to be stopped. It's far more important.”

“More important than your life?” Kyle asks.

“Be realistic, Kyle. Even if you find something, it's going to do what, slow it down a little? You're not going to cure an alien brain tumor in a few weeks. I'd rather spend those weeks destroying my father's work.”

“So you're gonna make me watch you die like my father, and do nothing about it? And keep it to myself? The fuck I'm gonna do that, Alex.”

“You will,” Alex says, looking at his hands now that he has pulled over and doesn't have the excuse of the road to look away. “You know why I need you to. Look, I know it's not fair, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't have told you at all, but I'm going to need someone who can help me get my affairs in order, and take over when I can't keep going.”

“Alex...” The pure anguish of Kyle's voice almost makes Alex break.

“Please, Kyle.”

“Fuck!” Kyle punches the dashboard again.

“Will you do it?”

Kyle sighs. “Yeah. I'll do it. But I will try to find a cure, and I want it on the record that I don't agree with this.”

“Thank you,” Alex murmurs, relieved. At least one thing he doesn't need to worry about. Kyle will respect his wishes. It's his job, the one he swore to do.

Now he has work to do, before he can let himself collapse.

3.

The first few days, Alex feels fine. Physically, at least. Psychologically...it's another matter. He almost goes to Michael, to tell him everything. In a moment's weakness, he thinks he wants to give them a chance, before it's too late.

Then he thinks of what he would feel if it was Michael in his place, and remembers that Michael just lost his mom. He doesn't go. He spends his time at the base and down in the bunker instead, looking through the data they got at Caulfield.

There's a video of Jim Valenti being pushed into Subject N38's cell, and Alex throws up when he watches it. He doesn't know if it's because it's his father's face on the screen, of if the tumor that's already visible on the MRI is starting to affect him.

It's growing inside his head. His own death.

He can't feel it yet.

Alex and Kyle catch up with the Noah problem after the fact, when Liz calls them in panic and they find her hugging Max's dead body, and a very alive Rosa looking on, confused.

Max doesn't stay dead long. The storm is going strong again outside, and Isobel is the one who figures out how to channel the lightning into Max's body. He's been dead longer than a human could have gone pumping blood, but then he's not human. He gets off lightly, just weak and sore for a few weeks.

Hugging Rosa, Alex reminds himself that he's not going to get the same chance, and he wants to cry. He thought he could handle it, die in dignity like he always hoped he would, but this isn't combat. This isn't one gunshot and−gone.

It's weeks, months of waiting for the inevitable end.

It's going to be ugly.

He looks at Kyle across the room, who is looking back at him sadly. Kyle always looks at him sadly, now.

Alex is glad none of the others know.

4.

Five days after Rosa is resurrected, Alex walks into the Wild Pony, hoping to drown his sorrows for a while, and he finds Michael kissing Maria behind the counter. It's a punch to the gut.

Only as he backs out of the door, deciding he'll do his drinking at home, Alex realizes that it doesn't feel like he thought he would. Michael is lost to him anyway. He's planning to leave the planet, and Alex won't even live long enough to see him go. He thought his heart would break. But his heart is already in too many pieces to break more.

He can't help the jealousy, but it's a relief too, somehow. If Michael has moved on, if he's happy with Maria, then Alex's death won't destroy him.

He hopes Michael will forget him, once he's gone.

He gets drunk enough that he doesn't remember the rest of the night.

He wakes up to Kyle's knock at his door. Kyle has come like clockwork every morning before his shift, making the two-hour round trip to check on Alex. Alex keeps telling him it's not necessary, but he won't budge on this.

Alex tries to clear his head of the hangover, going to open the door on crutches.

“How long did it take, for your father?” he asks, before he even realizes how insensitive it is. But he needs some kind of time frame. He's avoided thinking about it so far, about how many months or weeks he has−how many days.

Kyle runs a hand down his face. “Alex...” he mutters. “I can't do this right now. Come sit down.”

Alex obeys, but he still pushes. “Please.”

Kyle sighs. “He died March 9th, and the worst of the symptoms started in late February.”

“Time stamp on the video said February 15th,” Alex mutters. “Less than a month.”

“You said yourself that he was in the cell a lot longer than you,” Kyle says. “You may have more time.”

Alex looks up at him. A month. He has a month left to live, maybe two if he's lucky. It's been six days already.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “This has to be so hard on you.”

Kyle laughs humorlessly. “I'm not the one−” who's dying, Alex can fill in, but Kyle's voice breaks as his laugh turns into a sob.

Alex's eyes are dry as he hugs his friend. He feels cold.

5.

“Where is he?” Michael almost barrels into Kyle. “Where is Alex?”

Kyle sighs. “I don't think he wants to see anyone,” he says.

“Why? Is it bad? What is wrong with him?” Michael asks, panicking.

Kyle bites his lip. He promised, but he's pretty sure the cat is already out of the bag. Instead of answering, he nods to the door of Alex's hospital room behind them. Michael doesn't even hesitate before he knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Alex says, his stomach feeling like lead. Him collapsing in the middle of the Crashdown Café was bound to come back to his friends' ears, but he'd hoped for more time. It's been twenty one days since Caulfield, and he's been hiding the bouts of nausea and dizziness, the blinding headaches, for over a week now. He's running out of time.

He fiddles with his IV as Michael comes in. The truth is, he'd hoped he'd be able to hide it until the end, to avoid making his friends go through this. But it's unfair to Kyle to ask him to carry this on his own any longer, and the choice has been made for him by his traitorous body anyway.

“Alex! What happened?” Michael asks, coming closer.

Alex sighs. He wants so hard to say it's nothing−he wants it to be true. He doesn't know how to announce it.

“Alex, please. You're scaring me.”

“I had a frontal lobe seizure,” Alex explains. He chokes up on the rest.

“What does that mean?”

“The seizure itself is nothing bad, but it happened because...I have a brain tumor.”

“What?” Michael gapes. He drops into the chair beside Alex's bed. Alex bring his good leg up to his chin and wraps his arms around it, trying to distance himself. He thought this would hurt less if Michael was with Maria, but he heard they broke up a week ago.

“In Caulfield...my brother Flint got to me. He...my father ordered him to take me to Subject N38.”

“No,” Michael shakes his head. “No.”

Alex looks away.

“The tumor's already grown enough for symptoms to appear, so I don't have a lot of time left,” he says, as matter-of-factly as he can.

The look on Michael's face in unbearable. Raw pain, purer that anything Alex has ever felt. He closes his eyes, unable to stand it.

“No, it's not right,” Michael mutters. “You can't−” He chokes.

“I'm sorry,” Alex says.

Michael swallows several times. “How long have you known?”

“Since the day it happened,” Alex answers quietly. “You had so much on your plate.”

“Who else knows?”

“Kyle. Liz found out today, and now you.”

Telling Liz was painful and hard and sad, but it doesn't even start to compare to this. Alex dreaded this moment for a reason.

It takes Michael almost five whole minutes to break down. Alex leans in to allow him to bury his head in his shoulder. He hoped for anger, almost. Rage. He wants Michael to scream at him for not telling him sooner, he wants…

Anything but this.

Because he can't stand Michael's pain. Because this is what drives it home.

He's going to die. Not someday, not maybe, not even probably.

He's going to die, and he'll spend the little time he has left watching his body give out on him.

Feeling cold and numb, he waits until Michael's heart-wrenching sobs start to abate to speak again.

“When I was injured in Iraq, I was certain that I was going to die. The whole building collapsed on me, and I was trapped and pinned down. The whole time, I was thinking about you, and I regretted that we never got to make things right. It feels a bit like...like I was given a little more time, somehow, to get back to you.”

Michael pulls back to look at him, his face streaked with tears.

“Alex−”

“But it also means that I've been living on borrowed time, for almost a year,” Alex continues. “I'm so glad I got the chance to see you again. To learn who you really are, even. That we got a little time together.”

Michael lets out another sob.

“But I'm running out of time,” Alex continues. “And you've moved on. It's a good thing. It will be easier for me to go, if I know that you're going to be okay.”

Michael shakes his head vigorously in denial.

“I haven't moved on,” he says. “I went to Maria because it was easier. It didn't hurt.”

“Loving me hurts?” Alex asks, but he already knows the answer. Of course it does. What has he brought to Michael but pain?

“Not loving you. But being with you. Being without you. We just kept hurting each other. I was running. I wanted to get away from the pain.”

“I know,” Alex murmurs. “It hurt, to see you with Maria, but I understand.”

“You're...knowing that you're dying, it feels like...” Michael makes a gesture when words fail him. “The end of the world. But I've also realized how wrong I was.”

“About what?”

“Loving you is worth all the pain in the world. I didn't realize it sooner, and I'm so sorry.”

Alex chokes up. “No, Michael, I am sorry. For leaving, every time. And I'm sorry that I'm going to leave you again.” Because this time I would have stayed, Alex doesn't add. There's no point in making this even more painful for Michael.

Michael makes a wounded animal sound, hugging Alex again.

“You know what?” he says after a bit. “We're gonna make the most of the time we've got, okay?”

“I'm going to be very sick,” Alex bites his lip.

“And I'm going to take care of you. Starting right now.”

Michael stands up, untangling his hands from Alex, who lies back into his pillow, exhausted. Michael dries his face with his sleeve, then gives Alex one more look, heartbreakingly gentle.

“Valenti!” he calls, going to open the door.

“What?” Kyle responds from where Alex assumes he's still sitting with Liz.

“Does he need to be in the hospital?”

Kyle comes over to the door where Alex can see him. “In here we can at least check on his vitals−”

“Is there anything you can actually do?” Michael asks, his voice rising in irritation.

Kyle makes a grimace, like he hates what he's going to say. “Keep him comfortable?”

“I doubt he'll ever be comfortable in a hospital bed,” Michael shakes his head. “Can I take him home?”

Kyle looks between him and Alex for a moment before he makes a decision. “Yes. I'll come check on you as much as I can. Just let me get you the discharge papers.”

“I'm going to be with you until the end,” Michael says when he's gone. “I promise.”

Alex doesn't know whether to be heartbroken or relieved. He shivers, and Michael snuggles up against him on the bed, warming him up.

6.

“Kyle and I looked over your scans,” Liz says a couple of days later, when she and Kyle visit Alex at the cabin. They've been working non-stop since everyone found out. “We're going by the progression of the tumor, and Jim Valenti's medical file to try and predict what will happen.”

“I already know what will happen,” Alex shrugs.

“We wanted to have a more precise time scale. Look, Alex, I still don't get why you didn't tell me earlier, but what Kyle found shows some promise.”

“There's no time to test it, or implement it,” Alex says. He and Kyle have spoken about it many times. “Even with your genius, Liz, I'll be dead long before you manage to make it into a cure.”

“Maybe not,” Liz says. “We have the pods. We can keep you in stasis for a while, long enough enough to figure it out.”

“It could be years. And we don't know that it would even work.”

“Don't you want to try? It may be your only chance.”

“It's a slim one at best. I don't want to give up on what little time I have left for a fool's hope.”

Liz and Kyle exchange a look. Kyle takes a deep breath.

“Listen,” he says. “I watched my father die. I wasn't there the whole time, but I was there at the end, and I watched him suffer. It was...excruciating.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Alex frowns. “I already know that.”

“Because...you're at the end your rope here. From here on, it will be nothing but pain. Your sight will be the first to go, but the tumor has already metastasized all over your body, on your bones, your organs… The other day was just the first symptom.”

“It wasn't,” Alex shakes his head. “I've been feeling ill and sore for a while.”

Kyle closes his eyes. “It's only going to get worse from there.”

“I know.”

“Do you really want to go through this?” Liz asks.

Alex sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “No, Liz, of course I don't. But I don't have a choice, do I? Not a real one.”

“We could−” Liz hesitates. “Maybe there's a middle ground. By our estimation, you have another two weeks, maybe, before the tumor's damage will be permanent, even if we were to find a cure. If we manage to make real progress during that time, would you let us put you in stasis? And just...I don't know, we can promise you to bring you out after a certain length of time if we don't manage to make a cure if you really want. I understand that you don't want to end up in there forever, I mean, with the whole thing with Rosa… But we can't lose you, Alex. Not like that.”

Alex closes his eyes. We can't lose you isn't helpful. They will. They'll lose him, and they need to be ready. He doesn't believe that Liz can make the cure, not really.

He still wants to hold on to that sliver of hope.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “If you have something promising by then, I'll let you put me in a pod. Just...you have a year. Swear that if you don't have a cure by then, you'll get me out and let me go.”

Liz has tears falling down her face as she murmurs, “I promise. One year. I'll figure it out.”

“No, don't promise that. You know you can't. Promise me that you won't leave me in that pod forever.”

“One year,” she says. “Then we take you out. Whatever the outcome.”

Alex turns to Kyle, who nods solemnly, swallowing back his own tears.

He waits until he's alone to break down.

It's better this way.

7.

They have five days of near peace. Alex's pain is managed well enough with strong painkillers, and though he has energy for little else than sleep or rest on the couch, at least he's fairly comfortable.

He discovers that Michael is a pretty good cook, if you give him an actual kitchen. He can't keep much food down anymore, but he tries to eat anyway, just to taste it.

He falls asleep in Michael's arms, or to the sound of Michael's guitar. Alex would love to sing for him, but he doesn't have enough voice left in him. He's glad Michael has his music back. It's something, at least. Maybe Alex will not live to see his father brought to justice, but he'll leave something right.

The fight has gone out of them, and all that's left is tenderness, tinged with grief. Where their relationship was once fireworks and crash landings, it's now soft and bittersweet. They don't argue. They don't need to communicate much even, which is good as Alex progressively loses the energy to speak. They cuddle up together when Alex is cold, which is most of the time.

There's no fear of the future. Not of that future, anyway, the one they both dreamed of so much that they pushed each other away because they were terrified of screwing up. It's gone. They only have a few days, and the best they can do is be together.

They both try their best not to think of after. Alex has handed the Project Shepard work to Kyle entirely, since he can barely get out of bed anymore, and his affairs are in order, so he tries to let go and live in the moment. Actually live each moment he has left.

Michael still can't imagine a world−a universe−that doesn't have Alex in it. The only muddled thought he has is that he'll finish his spaceship and get away from this planet. Permanently.

But for now, he holds Alex in his arms and watches him sleep, and he tries very hard not to think.

For Michael, the worst moments somehow aren't when Alex cries from the pain in his arms. It's sitting in a corner of the room when Maria and Liz visit Alex, who can barely sit up in bed anymore, and they try to laugh and smile through the tears. It's watching Alex's face fall when he opens an invitation to one of his Air Force friends' wedding with trembling hands, and they both know he won't be alive by the wedding date. It's feeling like he's mourning Alex before he's even dead.

Dead. The nausea settles deeper in Michael's stomach every time he thinks about it−he doesn't think about anything else. At this point, as he watches Alex suffer so much, he almost wishes he was safe and painless in a pod. But he also can't imagine living in a world where Alex isn't there.

On the sixth day, Alex wakes up screaming in pain.

Michael immediately jumps up and cups his face in his hands, trying to calm Alex down enough to get pills down him, but nothing helps. Alex feels like his whole body is on fire.

It doesn't start to abate until Alex is hooked to the highest dose of morphine that won't outright kill him, and even then, as he sleeps, his face is lined with pain.

“Either the tumor's reached some nerve center, or the metastases on his spine have gone through the bone and into the nervous system,” Kyle diagnoses. “Either way, there's nothing I can do except try to relieve the pain.”

“Nothing?” Michael asks, desperate.

“No. We may have less time than we thought.”

Alex still won't go into a pod, though. The pain is worth a little more time with Michael. With all of his friends. He's not ready to go.

He doesn't believe, in his heart, that he'll even come out if he does. So he fights for another day.

8.

When he opens his eyes to see a large black spot in the middle of his vision, Alex knows it's the end. This is what Liz and Kyle told him about, the beginning of the permanent damage. If he doesn't go into a pod now, they probably won't be able to fix him even if they find a cure. He has a decision to make.

It's been twelve days since he ended up in the hospital, two days off their mark. Liz and Kyle haven't come up with some amazing cure, or even a good idea about one. And Alex has run out of time.

Weakly, he shakes Michael's arm to wake him up.

“Alex?” Michael asks sleepily.

“It's time,” Alex rasps. He's barely been able to speak for days, and no more than one or two words at a time.

Michael sits up, suddenly wide awake.

“The pod?” he asks.

Alex nods.

They've prepared for this, but it doesn't make it easier. Michael doesn't cry as he gets dressed, and texts everyone. He doesn't cry as he gently removes Alex's IV, hoping the dose of morphine he has in his blood will be enough to tide him over until−

Fuck. He does cry as he picks Alex up, his underweight, frail body limp in his arms. Alex doesn't stop staring at him, his eyes dropping but alert. He cries as he straps Alex in the passenger seat of the car, pulling it back so he's as comfortable as possible.

He can barely see the road, as he drives to the turquoise mines. He steers with one hand, the other squeezing Alex's, and they stay silent.

Michael has already said everything he can say that doesn't make him want to curl up into a little ball.

He carries Alex again, refusing to use his telekinesis, into the pod cave. The others are already here, Liz ready with the melted silver. Michael puts Alex down on the blanket she's prepared and pulls his head into his lap.

One by one, they come to say goodbye, and it feels far too much like a funeral. Isobel and Max, who know Alex the least, stay politely away, Isobel only squeezing both his and Michael's shoulder with teary eyes. Maria and Liz are openly crying as they hug Alex one last time, and he struggles to say his goodbyes.

“We didn't get to spend much time together, mijo” Rosa tells Alex, kissing his brow. “I hope you come back like me and we get to hang out.”

Kyle looks devastated when Alex makes him promise again, but he obeys. “We'll pull you out in a year at the latest. You can trust me.”

Alex nods, relieved, and smiles up at him. “You were...a good friend,” he rasps out.

Kyle lets out a sob. “You're the best friend I've ever had, Alex,” he murmurs.

Alex hugs him weakly, and he falls back down into Michael's lap when Kyle lets him go, his body even limper, letting out a pained moan. The painkillers are running out.

“'s time,” Alex mouths.

Michael moves him as little as possible while undressing him, and Kyle helps him spread the silver over Alex's body. Liz and Maria watch on, crying in each other's arms.

Lying in Michael's embrace, tears running down both of their faces, Alex tries to imprint that moment into his memories. It's not going to matter. In a few minutes, he'll be in stasis for an indefinite amount of time, and almost no chance of ever coming out of the coma it's going to put him in. His memories will scatter away like they never meant anything.

He's glad that he gets to die in Michael's arms, but he wishes he'd gotten the time to live with him.

“I love you,” Michael sobs.

“Love...you too,” Alex forces out. “Be...happy.”

Michael closes his eyes briefly, and kisses him as softly as he can. His hands don't leave Alex skin until he's inside the pod fully, and his eyes drop closed.

Leaning his brow on the membrane of the pod, he lets the sobs wrack his body as Isobel comes to hold him.

9.

One year later.

Liz checks her watch before she enters the Wild Pony. It's late already. She didn't see the time pass in her lab. She'll need to make up for all the time she's spent researching things that have little to do with her actual job, but she can do that later. For now, she's on a mission.

Maria is behind the bar, and she beckons her over, nodding to the place where Michael is sitting, his head in one hand, nursing a glass of what looks like Coke with the other. He stopped drinking alcohol months ago, but now he looks like he's in need of a stiff drink or two.

Or of some good news.

“Michael,” Liz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Liz,” Michael raises his head. The pain in his eyes is nearly unbearable. “We've run out of time. It will be a year tomorrow.”

Liz swallows. “I think I've got it, Michael. I think I've got a cure.”

Michael stares at her for a while, uncomprehendingly. “You−”

“I'm not 100% certain, it doesn't work like that, but...I think so. I can save Alex.”

“Oh thank God,” Maria murmurs, as Michael gapes in shock. He bites down on his finger, hard, tears already falling from his eyes.

Liz gathers him in her arms before he falls off his stool and hugs him hard.

It's been a long, hard year, for all of them.

“The compound I've designed will act as a sort of chemotherapy,” Liz explains later, when they've all gathered in the pod cave. Michael is kneeling in front of Alex's pod−the one that used to be his−his head against the membrane, in the same position he's been in so often, but he's listening. “It's based on the same technology that Flint Manes and his team used to make the biochemical bomb.”

Finding the compound where the bomb was stored was their largest breakthrough in the last six months, as well as the official end of Project Shepard. All three aliens agreed that despite its danger to them, the bomb should not be destroyed if it could help Alex.

“It will take several injections and a few months to get rid of the tumor, but the chances that it will work with minimal damage to Alex are good. Unlike chemotherapy, this will be able to target only the alien cells in his body, so it shouldn't be dangerous for his health, though I can't guarantee there won't be side effects.”

“He will live?” is all Michael asks.

“He will.”

“Then do it.”

Liz looks around the room. Kyle is technically Alex's medical proxy, thought those rules don't really apply here. He nods, too, hope shining in his eyes, finally overpowering the guilt and grief that have never left him. Maria smiles at them, reassuringly.

“Max, I'm going to need you,” Liz says. “I know you can't heal him, but the tumor is technically injuring his brain at this point, and it's a foreign body, so I'm hoping you can keep it at bay long enough for the treatment to start working.”

“I'll do my best,” Max nods.

“We have plenty of acetone,” Isobel adds.

“Kyle?”

“I'll handle the IV,” Kyle says, coming closer. “You do the initial injection.”

Liz nods, checking the syringe in her hands.

“Michael, we're all ready,” she says.

Michael takes a deep breath, and plunges his silver-stained hands into the pod. In seconds, he has a naked, warm, sleeping Alex lying in his lap.

“Hey,” he murmurs as Liz and Max buzz around him. Alex blinks his eyes open. “It's time to come home.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

I see you're on break (congrats)and you want some aus? Perfect What about a single dad finally meets the kindergarten teacher and shenanigans occur or something like that? Remeber tonjoy your break tho and rest up :)

Ah Anon it makes me ever so happy to see you in my inbox! Please never leave my darling. And I hope you're good, and happy, and well. Don't worry I'm definitely resting up these hols (please ignore the fact that I'm posting this at 2am while I tell you I am resting)

So I know I said prompts were probs gonna be jercy but when I read this everything in me just screamed PERCABETH. So that's what I wrote. Side note this had biiigg Everything Has Changed music video vibes.

Anyway I hope you enjoy! Love y'all. And thanks for the prompt! Keep em coming.

Masterlist for more crackships and other stuff

Percy Jackson pulled into the designated pick up zone, his music blasting so hard his seats vibrated. His fingers tapped along to the beat against the steering wheel, head bobbing aimlessly. The time on the dashboard blinked 14:59 and as the song ended the clock struck the hour.

Little kids, dressed in all manor of outfits came pouring out of the school, throwing basketballs and strapping on bike helmets. He watched as a little boy in a lobster costume attempted to mount his bicycle, falling three times before he got frustrated enough to yank the costume down. Percy, and probably every parent in the vicinity, was grateful the little guy had a vest and shorts on underneath.

Another little boy looked on the verge of tears as he handed a broken pair of wings to his mom. She gave him a kiss and a chocolate and the kid beamed so hard the sun got a little jealous. He immediately turned to the little girl next to him and offered her some of his sugary contraband.

Damn Percy loved Halloween.

Speaking of which, where on earth was Estelle? She had been buzzing about the Halloween sleepover all week and now she was going to be late.

He checked the clock to find five minutes had gone by with no sign of his little sister. The front area was beginning to clear as little kids hopped on the school bus or into a parent's car. He gave it one more, impatient minute before getting out and stalking towards the schools entrance. His eyes wide and frantically searching through all the little bobbles and capes and various types of bugs. What was it with little kids and insects? Still there was no sign of a bright green tail or red hair clips.

Percy was starting to panic. He pushed the double doors of the school open, "Estelle? Estelle? Elle? Ellie? Elephant?"

His shouts echoed in the empty hallways but there was no response.

"Princess Ariel? Come on Elle this isn't funny." His voice shook with nerves as he peered into empty classrooms and around abandoned corners.

"Elle if you come out now I'll get you icecream on the way home." Bribing always worked.

"Come one Estelle, please," He could hear the panic in his voice now.

"Can I help you?" A voice from behind him asked.

He whipped around, stumbling as he caught sight of the stranger.

She was, wow. She looked like a princess from one of Estelle fairytales. Golden curls, and bright grey eyes. And a soft, expectant smile.

Expectant.... expactant. Shit. She was waiting for him.

He cleared his throat, "Uh yes hi I'm looking for my little sister. She didn't come out after school and I'm panicking just a little."

"Oh alright," She motioned for him to follow her before disappearing behind a door, "Can you tell me her name and who her teacher is?"

"Sure yea, her name is Estelle Blofis and her teacher is Miss Dare."

"Oh yes they had swim class for the last hour of the day. Come on I'll take you to the pool. Maybe she's still there."

"Thank you so much," He gave her a grateful look, "I'm Percy by the way, Percy Jackson."

"Annabeth Chase," Her tone was open but her answer was blunt.

Percy was confused and a little worried, and wow she was pretty.

"So you been working here long?"

She gave him a weird look and he realized it was probably a stupid question but before he could back track she was shrugging her shoulders.

"About two years."

"Must really love children huh?" He chuckled, "I think I'd go crazy if I had to look after a bunch of six year olds all day."

She looked at him then, grey eyes piercing into his.

"It started out as a backup plan while I waited to get into postgrad and kind of just became a thing."

"Well I'm sure you're great at it."

She laughed softly, pushing open the doors to the pool, "I'm great at everything Mr Jackson."

"Percy!" A small weight crashed into his legs.

"Hello Elle, where have you been?" He crouched down to look his little sister in the eye, "I've been worried sick about you."

"I'm sorry Pers," She gave him that puppydog stare, "We were having so much fun in the pool Miss Dare said we could stay in for a little extra. I didn't think you'd mind since you like to listen to your loud music." Her little button nose scrunched in distaste before she bounded away to change and grab her things.

Percy heard a soft snickering from behind him and stood up to see Annabeth covering her mouth, grey eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Someone's not a fan of your taste."

He scowled at her, "She doesn't count. Her favourite song is" Kiss the Girl" from Ariel."

"That's a great song," The blonde arched a perfect brow.

"Maybe when you're a kindergarten teacher," He teased, "I listen to real music like Led Zeppelin and Bon Jovi."

"Who said that's real music, Seaweed Brain?" She said pointing to his t-shirt that read Marine Biologists: seaweeds with brains.

"Haha," Percy rolled his eyes, "Well what do you consider good music?"

She opened her mouth to respond but Estelle beat her to it.

"Okay Percy I'm ready. Are we gonna get icecream on our way home?"

"What are you gonna give me in return?" They started waking back into the school.

"We can watch any movie you want tomorrow." She declared.

"Any movie?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Any movie. Oh except toy story. I don't like watching Andy give all his toys away. And that mean pink bear scares me."

"So we can watch Frozen?" He picked her up to look straight at her.

"Yes!" She giggled, "But you can't sing along to every word. I like Elsa and Anna's voice."

He pouted at her and glared at Annabeth who had been silent until this moment, when she had hurriedly tried to cover up her laugh with a cough.

"Why don't you run to the car, little one," He put Estelle down, "If you can get there in under thirty seconds I'll let you have two scoops of ice-cream."

The little girl didn't so much as blink before she was racing down the hall.

"So Frozen huh?" Annabeth smirked, "Guess that's also considered good music?"

"I'll have you know Elsa and Anna are queens and icons of this generation."

"Personally I think Nani and Lilo are better role models but whatever you say," She grinned at him.

"How about we settle this debate over coffee? Friday next week?"

"I hope you know I was captain of the debate team in college so you're definitely going down."

"All I'm hearing is that you accepted to go on a date with me," It was his turn to smirk.

She laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows. He knew he looked ridiculous but her laugh was buttery and warm and he'd do most anything to keep hearing it.

"It's a date Percy Jackson."

His smile was bright and unrestrained as they waved goodbye.

"See you then Annabeth Chase."

[thedistantstorm]

Tribute: A Kalluzeb Story

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Pairings: Kallus/Zeb (kalluzeb)

Chapter: 1 of 3?? (TBD, but I’m thinking 3)

AO3 Link Here

Summary: Zeb works on a gift for Kallus, to replace something he’s lost. It’s a gateway to a conversation Zeb wants to have in the future, but there’s something a bit more urgent they need to talk about first.

Notes: This is a little something I’m working on since this Thursday is #rebelsremembered day. I’m so so so new to the fandom, but Rebels has quickly ascended to be my favorite of all the SW series out there, so here’s a 2-3 part story featuring Kalluzeb + Hera, not too long after Lothal’s liberation. It's a little angsty, marinated in hurt/comfort, baked with love, and garnished with humor, but I hope you enjoy my first (official) Rebels fanfic.

Next >>

Garazeb Orrelios leans over his makeshift workbench in the Ghost's cargohold with a focus that borders on the extreme. He very carefully marks out each and every motion he plans to take with a tiny graphite writing utensil that threatens to snap in his grip without any effort at all. Hunched over the smaller weapon, he spares a glance toward the far larger one off to his left. Suspended between empty crates over a small tarp pilfered from Sabine’s room to prevent any lacquer from dripping onto the floor, his AB-75 gleams under the fluorescents. The metallic bayonet is polished, the weapon’s frame drying with the guards taped up to prevent any errant drips, though he’s done this enough times to know just how thick the lacquer needs to be to prevent it from running. It hardly takes an hour for the finish to cure, but he always gives it two to prevent any tacky, sticky residue from taking residence in his fur due to his impatience.

Though he doesn't have the five fingers his human friends have, his craftsmanship does not suffer for it. Besides, he knows his way around a bo-rifle. These weren’t weapons made by human hands. This one had been meant to be a happy surprise. These were made by his people.

And this weapon’s purpose was to be a gift that opened a doorway to a conversation, later on.

When Zeb learned that these weapons were still the preferred weapons of Lira San’s overwhelmingly peaceful regime, he had been overjoyed. Chava had seen to it that he be provided with repair parts for his own. Though they were designed to stand up to the test of time and be passed between generations, maintenance would always be necessary, and upkeep of one’s weapon mandatory.

Kallus had lost his, in the course of his defection. Zeb, having heard about Thrawn's "collection," was certain that Kallus's weapon, the bo-rifle he'd earned through skill and honor despite the circumstances that lead to it, was aboard the Chimaera. And Thrawn and Ez- the Chimaera was gone.

He leans back and shakes his head briefly, trying to reorient his brain. Focus on the design, he reminds himself. Don’t let your mind wander. He had done his own weapon first, sampled the design on purpose. This rifle is brand new, unlike his own. He wants it to be perfect. He looks over the stock and the first design he’d etched with painstaking care to the one Sabine had drawn, taped to the wall in front of him. It was more complicated, but he’d seen more ornate designs back on Lasan. Sabine might not think it as good as if she’d done it, but he had to be the one.

“Hard at work, I see,” Hera calls from behind him.

Zeb grumbles good naturedly, rubs the back of his head as he turns. “You should be sleepin’,” He reminds her.

She rubs her belly in response, eyebrows arching in a sarcastic reply. “I know my limits,” She reminds him. He hears what she doesn’t say: I’m pregnant, not an invalid.

He spends a lot of time with her, so to him, she shows. She’s been holding off on letting rebel leadership know, afraid they’ll ground her, but any day now someone’s going to figure it out. He understands that she needs to keep moving, understands the kind of loss she’s working through. The kind they all are, really, but she has reason to take it harder than most, if you ask him. He’s appointed himself as her watchman, and while he tries not to be overbearing, he’s not afraid to go toe to toe with her for her own health.

“I thought Kallus would be back by now,” She says, after a moment. That she doesn’t know where her people are is more of a tell to her frayed mental state than any emotional indicator.

“Some mission with a new agent,” Zeb reminds her. “Hush-hush Fulcrum business. You probably know more than me.” He pulls down a crate from a stack piled up in the corner to face him and she takes the hint to sit.

“Sounds familiar,” Hera supposes. She’s got the top half of her coveralls undone, and the baby belly is obvious without the extra layers. There’s nothing to her, Zeb thinks. “It’s all kind of a blur lately.”

“I know what’cha mean,” He growls, not unkind. “Chop’s constantly zappin’ me, askin’ if I’ve eaten. Apparently he and Alex have some kinda agreement. Sabine says he sends her messages, too.”

“He’s a good droid,” She says, leaning against the stack of mostly empty boxes behind her impromptu seat. He’s been following her around like a shadow, only leaving her alone for small instances at a time unless a mission dictates otherwise. “Just don’t tell him I said that.”

He rumbles something that might be an agreement but isn’t and watches her quietly. “Nightmare?”

“Can’t get comfortable,” She returns, and he winces at his suggestion. “But,” She relents, “The nightmare didn’t help.” Unwilling to talk about it, she nods with a lift of her chin towards his makeshift bench. “What’re you working on?”

“Gift for Alex. Since his weapon’s gone-” He exhales sharply, but Hera doesn’t react to that. She’s far more in control of her emotions than anyone gives her credit for. “I had Chava send me a replacement. He’ll probably have to mod it a little, but I thought he’d like it.”

“You two are cute,” She comments. He pretends not to hear her drowsiness bleed into her voice, and doesn’t mention that it’s taken her longer to answer than normal. Another moment passes. “You should-” Her eyes soften, and she’s very much awake again.

“Yeah,” He agrees, knowing exactly what Hera’s trying to say, even if she can’t get out the words. Then he sighs. “Yeah.”

“Don’t wait too long,” She tells him, softly. “Not because of me and-” She shakes her head. “I get so caught up on this war, and our cause.” Her fists clench. “It’s worth it, Zeb, we all know that. I just… you can be happy and be with someone and fight this war, too.”

Zeb reaches a hand out, covering one of her fists with his massive hand, uncurling her fingers and lacing them with his own. One of her major fears since with… everything has been the fear that those around her would do what she did. Not say the words, make the time until it was nearly too late. “I know, Hera. We’re gonna talk.”

She nods. “And you’re going to give him a gun.” She waggles her eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood. “So, is this some kind of Lasat mating thing or-?”

He laughs and the sound is so unexpected his ears perk, as if unsure that he’s capable of the sound. They exchange half-guilty smiles, one survivor to another, and he lifts the weapon from the crate that functions as a workbench to show her.

“No. Lasat aren’t nearly so formal with gifts and what-not unless you’re a royal.”

“And I don’t think Kallus abides by Coruscanti courting rules or whatever those snobby people call it,” She rolls her eyes. “Sounds like you lucked out.”

His ears flatten a bit, the only way besides his expression to betray embarrassment, but it’s just Hera, and he’s never been able to keep a secret from her very well anyway. She’s too smart for her own good, sometimes. “Yeah, doesn’t make me less nervous about it.”

Delicate green hands take the rifle from his hands, her eyes lighting up at the Fulcrum symbol etched into the stock. “Zeb, this looks ama-” She turns it over, slowly, seeing the etching on the barrel that curls around it entirely. “Oh,” Tears well up in her eyes, but she doesn’t stop inspecting it. “I’m sorry,” She says, when they fall treacherously. “Damn hormones.”

“Don’t be,” He says, ducking his head. “I, uh,” He looks up through soft, half-lidded eyes. “I might have gotten a little choked up working on mine earlier, so…” He rubs the back of his head and takes it back from her, clamping it in the stand he’s rigged so that it won’t move while he works over it. “Damn kid,” He says, sniffing as delicately as he can. Then, softer, “You don’t think it’s presumptu-”

“Garazeb Orrelios,” She barks at him, though it lacks the whip-crack it normally does with Hera in tears. “Kallus will absolutely love it. He- Ezra,” She exhales his name like it takes physical effort. “Ezra means the world to all of us, Kallus included.”

“Okay,” He agrees, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand while he has his back to her. He hasn’t cried or anything, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of Hera seeing if he did. “Want me to grab you a blanket and we can hang out together while I finish this?”

The sound of a concerned droid echoes down the hall. “Well, right on time for his 0300 check,” She quips to Zeb. “Chop, could you bring me a-”

The droid barges into the hold, babbling in binary. Something about being where she’s supposed to be, doesn’t she know she needs sleep, and lacquer fumes can’t possibly be good for the baby. Even so, he’s got two pillows compressed by one manipulator and the blanket from her bunk in the other, and he makes a big deal about her putting one between her knees like some nursedroid before barking an order at Zeb to use the exhaust if he’s going to be doing weapon maintenance in the ship.

“I’ve been going outside to spray the lacquer,” Zeb tells Chopper, who ignores his argument entirely, turning on the exhaust anyway. It’s more like white noise, the rumbling hum of the fans reminiscent of spacefaring, almost.

“Bah-bah bahbahbah bah ba-buah,” He grouses.

“Yes, mom,” Hera says for them both, tolerating his overbearing protectiveness. “Thank you for checking in on us. I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay up all night.” Then, placatingly, “We’ll go to bed soon, I swear.”

The droid clicks together the clamps at the end of his appendages in an ‘I don’t know why I put up with you people and your lies’ kind of gesture and then threatens to tell Kallus on them both, since he’s the only one of them that ever seems to be rational.

“C’mon, Chop,” Zeb pleads, using his most angelic tone. “I’m tryin’ to finish this present for him. He’ll be back in the mornin’ and then we’ll all rest easy. Besides-” He trails off, eyes sliding pointedly to an already dozing Hera, curled up on the weapons crate like it’s the most comfortable bed on base.

The droid wheels over to his master quietly and tucks her in, careful not to touch her and jolt her awake. He pats Zeb’s leg as he passes by, not shocking for once. “Bah bua bah-bah wah-bahbah bah wua.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ll come get you from your dock before I carry her to bed.”

“I can still hear you, you know,” She murmurs, but it’s slurred by sleep.

“We know,” Zeb answers, in sync with Chopper’s confirmation in binary. Then, softer, he murmurs, “G’night, Hera.”

She waves a hand in an indelicate flop before it finds her belly over the blanket. The astromech waves his manipulators around for show, but he’s hardly mad. He sees himself out, and then Zeb’s alone with his thoughts again.

The sound of the engraving tool he’d nicked from the hangar for his project isn’t loud at all. Zeb takes his time. Hera seems to sleep better these days with the sounds of work around her, and he’s committed to doing this right even if he’s working on it until dawn. He wants Kallus to like it. Wants him to know that even with everything that’s going on, he’s a part of their family. However he wants that to be.

Though, Zeb smiles to himself, just a little. He’s pretty sure they’ve been dancing around mutual feelings for a while now. With everything bad that's happened, it'd do them some good to make things clear. Get it all out in the open.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “In Memoria”

it is getting 100% frustrating trying to fit these stories into so few pages. Sometimes quality and quantity go together if you want good description. Anyway, here is the next installment of this mini series. Some questions have ben asked about the names to these creatures, and that credit goes to @cephalon-jaunde​ for coming up with the starborn as the creature's name for themselves. You just need to comment or suggest some ideas and I may incorporate them in, no harm in trying. 

here is the first part in case you missed it. 

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/183938010415/humans-are-weird-space-angels

Captain Vir lay on his back staring up at the dimly-lit infirmary ceiling. Despite the padding on the medical restraints, his wrists and ankles ached and throbbed. He had fought the restraints for hours, yanking and pulling against them as he tried to talk Krill down. The little alien was having none of it. He was convinced the captain was going to get himself killed, and he was convinced he was the only one sane enough to see it.

‘They are using you’ he had said, ‘if they can get into your mind who says they can’t change it. You are far too trusting and that will make you easily duped.’

Vir had argued that it was his job to do these sort of things. Yeah, he was a little bit stupid, and the things he did were a little bit stupid, but someone had to do it so the rest of the galaxy didn’t have to. Krill wasn’t convinced and kept him locked down. Captain Vir tried anything he could to force the little surgeon to let him go. He talked about his orders, his intuitions, he gave orders, and eventually he devolved into name calling out of desperation. What Krill was doing was selfish, he was only trying to keep Vir safe for himself, and it wasn’t his decision to make.

But no matter the argument, it hadn’t worked.

He had long since fought himself into exhaustion, and telepathy induced seizures had taken away the rest of what he had left. They were still trying to communicate with him. Sure the thing had been creepy, but he hadn’t had enough time to really tell what it wanted. It seemed interested in communicating with him, so who was to say what its real intentions were. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that they wouldn’t be likely to try and kill him. They had had plenty of chance to go ahead and do that when he was floating alone in space, and wounded. They could have just let him suffocate, or bleed out, or cartwheel into the vastness of space without any help, but they didn’t.

That’s what Krill didn’t understand… intuition. It didn’t make sense.

He tried his best to communicate with the creatures, tried his best to reach out to them with his mind, but he was quickly learning that, while the human brain HAD the ability to communicate telepathically, it definitely wasn’t meant to. The harder he tried, the more his brain responded with spastic electrical signals. After a series of tree seizures in the course of ten minutes, he had gone right ahead and quit trying. It hadn’t been so bad when he was in contact with the creature, talking with it skin to skin and face to face, somehow that had made it easier on him. It was only when they were far away or when they tried to speak to him all at once that he couldn’t handle it.

If he could just get more time, get a little closer.

Then again, that wasn’t seeming likely to happen. He pulled against the restraints halfheartedly. Designed by humans to restrain humans, there was no way he was getting out and Krill knew it, unless he could break one of his own hands and slip out, which did not seem likely either.

Out in the hallway, he could hear voices moving towards the infirmary. He recognized the sound of Krill, Sunny, and his lieutenant, in charge of the ship when he wasn’t.

“It wouldn’t be wise to un-restrain him.” Krill was saying, “Whatever these creatures are they seem to have induced some sort of psychotic episode.”

“Can you be sure about that?” Sunny wondered hesitantly, “The captain hasn’t led us wrong so far.”

“Not to bring up old wounds or anything, Sunny, but you were supposed to be a spy. If you had done your job a little bit better, the Captain would be dead and so would the rest of the crew.” There was a long silence before Krill continued, “Besides, if they can get into his head, than there is no saying they can’t change things around in there. They could be manipulating him for all we know.”

The group stopped just inside the door. Sunny lowered her voice, though it wasn’t enough to keep him from hearing, “I don’t know Krill, it seems wrong to lock him up like that. He’s the captain…. He’s the acting chief of my tribe. You can’t just lock him up.”

“The hell I can’t.” Krill answered, “Ill lock anyone here up if it means keeping them alive. That includes you, and that damn sure includes the Captain.”

The group of them went quiet again, and Captain Vir heard them moving down the infirmary. The curtain around his bed was pushed back, throwing light across his face. He turned his head away squinting as the group came to stand next to where he lay. Krill, as studious as ever, leaned over him examining his eyes with a small light. The captain shook his head against the bright, “Knock it off, Krill.”

The little surgeon ignored him conducting a quick neurological examination on him as he did, “how are you feeling Captain?”

“Honestly, a little pissed off if you must know. Un-cuff me and that’s an order.” He demanded

Over him, Sunny and the Lieutenant glanced at each other and then at Krill.

He could see their doubt and seized on it with all his desperation, “Come on guys, its ME I’m lucid. They aren’t controlling my mind. It’s my job to figure out who they are and what they want and to establish communication. You all called me crazy when I let Sunny on the ship, and it worked out. So just give me the benefit of the doubt.”

Krill glowered at the others as well, “Do I need to mention the time that he turned off the gravity and let an unknown entity aboard the ship against regulation, and without speaking with the supporting crewmembers?” He motioned towards the wounds on the captain’s arms, “And was injured in the process, and now he wants to go back out.”

The glancing grew in intensity, and Vir could see he had lost the argument. He wilted back against the bedframe with a sigh shrugging his shoulders against his cuffs. The lieutenant rested an apologetic hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry captain, but Krill has a point. No one else can hear what you can, and you did put the entire ship in jeopardy with what you did.” He quickly backpedaled against Vir’s protests, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt us, or put us in danger, but there may be something influencing you that you don’t know about.”

He sighed in frustration, “Can you at least-“ He raised his hands as far as he could and shook the cuffs for emphasis glancing at them with an expectant expression. Sunny seemed ready to oblige him, but krill shook his head.

“No, Captain, you’re not an idiot, and I’m not an idiot. You have survived too long for me to think you aren’t smart enough to escape or dupe your way out.”

“Ok fine then, but you are either going to have to cath me or let me go so I can pee. I’ve been holding it for hours and unless you do something I will have no choice but to just let it go, and then you will HAVE to move me for my health. So, which shall it be?” Krill paused just then thinking hard upon the situation, the captain had a point, and he had no doubt that the man would make his point in the most aggressively and disgustingly human way possible. He could see it in his steely green eye.

“If you are really worried about it, send some of the marines with me, they can kick my ass up and down this ship without batting an eye. I was trained in the air force remember, so I’m not as tough as the marines.” Krill wasn’t totally sure he believed him, but he did know the marines. They were big guys, some of them with at least thirty pounds of muscle on the captain, and the Captain wasn’t small. He estimated him at around 195 to 205 pounds.

“Fine.” He said

***

The marines brought him back without issue. The group of them were laughing and joking as they normally would right up until they watched the man be strapped back into his place.

“What is this all about, Captain?” one of the men asked glancing over at krill with confusion.

He shrugged, “Krill thinks that I’ve gone insane.” The protest lasted for a couple of long minutes as the marines bombarded Krill with questions. He gave them the same explanation as he had given the others. The marines may have been jarheads, but everyone on the ship knew Krill’s reputation for logic. The captain could see that the marines were wary now. Glancing at him with unsure expressions.

Damn.

He sighed and rested his head back against the bed closing his eyes as Krill gave the marines their mission. Bathroom escort duty, how fun for them. This lasted for a good day or two. He would get up with them cause no trouble and then go back to where he was. Eventually the marines were just sending two people, and then one with him. It’s not like it was that far away, just in the other room, he should be fine.

***

“Think you can handle him?”

“Yeah, no problem, go get something to eat.” The big marine said, the big marine the sergeant and the most experienced among them. Krill didn’t even bother to look at the group of marines as they walked through the door leaving only their superior behind to unlock the cuffs and help Vir to his feet rubbing his wrists where they had gone numb. The two of them walked back to the bathroom, and the marine stood by with his eyes respectfully averted.

How long was this annoyance going to last.

Vir finished and turned back. The marine moved forward just as the captain staggered forward clutching his head. In shock, the marine ran forward to help grasping the captain by the shoulder worried he was going into another seizure. The man grabbed him by the shoulder for support bent double in agony.

And then, suddenly, one hand as gripping his arm, and the other the back of his neck. A knee was driven fast and sharp into his abdomen effectively cutting off a cry for help. The man moved behind him gripping him by the shirt and whipping it over his head. The marine was gagged and cuffed in under two seconds leaning against the bathroom stall flat on his ass. The Captain Knelt in front of him single green eye wide in sympathy. He patted the marine’s shoulder a grimace on his face, “I’m sorry marine I….. I owe you a raise when this is all over. It really isn’t personal, but I need to do my job.

***

He made it past the infirmary without error and without Krill noticing. His senses weren’t as keen as a human’s and his intuition even less so. By the time the alarms started going off, he was already wearing one of the suits, and was beginning to don a helmet. He engaged the compressed oxygen, and then checked the systems. His suit pressurized, and he engaged the airlock. Underneath him, the starcycle revved, a sound that was cut out as all of the oxygen fled from the room, and the doors opened into the starlit blue haze of the cobalt nebulae. He engaged the engine and drifted into space even as the door closed behind him.

“Where are you,” He muttered softly as he moved forward, “I’m here to talk, no interruptions this time.” His voice was odd and distorted inside the suit. As he followed what he remembered of his old path back into the dust making sure to keep track of his position as he moved. It was eerie inside the dust cloud, with no notion of up or down, and no way to tell if he was truly going in the right direction, just his estimate. He was beginning to wonder if he really knew where he was going, and then, the dust cloud lightened and broke. He cut into a massive circular clearing with nothing but the blue nebulae on either side and the spiraling trails of white dust.

They had been waiting.

A massive body shifted in space ahead of him. The immense head and stirring black eyes lifted to look down upon him. He reversed the engine, and used just enough backward momentum to cancel out his earlier movement. The bike halted in midair, and floated there while he engaged the gaspack and slowly floated upwards from the boke. All around him the strange alien creatures rose to follow him, their glittering ribbons flaring out behind them in the blue light. Their angelic side was more apparent in the light of the cluster, where he couldn’t hear them, and their skin glowed with the light of celestial heavens. He felt his heart begin to quicken.

“I’m here to talk, like you wanted.” He thought forcing his intentions outwards and towards the massive white form flanked on all sides by a legion of its angelic children.

“You are the first… we knew you would come.” Came the voice inside his head echoing with the sound of a thousand voices speaking at once an entire crowd, “The first one to visit us in our plane, and the first one to speak to us with our own language. The first to visit with us, the starborn”

“But, you speak English.”

“We speak the language of your memories. Your communication is our communication. We know what is in your head, and your heart, and your past. We see everything. We speak the language of the soul, and yours is the only species that may speak with us despite your weak minds.”

Ok that was kind of odd, “Well uh, cool, but you know it isn’t exactly polite to go poking around in someone’s memories, and just like stealing form them. Some things are meant to be private.” All around him, the group shifted, they moved back from him, their ribbons flaring outwards like a dog raising its hackles.

He raised his hands in apology, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just, we don’t speak with our minds where I’m from.”

“We have seen where you are from, we have seen what your people do, what they keep form each other. What you keep from your friends.” The massive creature unfolded itself stretching far below and far above with its glowing body as it took a step forward. It didn’t need to step, it could have just floated, but the movement made its point it towered over Captain Vir now, its large black eyes staring down at him “You hide yourselves behind lies…. A concept hitherto unknown to us until now. A great evil. A great evil that should and must be purged.”

Captain Vir allowed a little bit of the gas to push him back as he was easy on the controls, “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. I can’t speak with my mind like you do, so it’s not really an option for everyone to know everything about us. Besides if my way of communicating offended you so much, than why would you bring me out here to talk?” his hand rested lightly on the gaspack controls ready to flee if that was an option.

“Your mind is very hard to read, human. It is tangled and warped by your lies. We are here to seek the truth. The closer you are, the better for us. Truth is always to outlive lies.”

The captain couldn’t help the unease that was creeping up his back. He wasn’t so sure about this. “What do you mean by that?

And before he knew it that massive creature was towering over him, and it was filling his head. It swelled inside his mind like water flooding an empty room. He gasped in surprise and pain as the creature took hold of his thoughts, his memories. Horribly, and suddenly his inner voice was silenced. There was no dialogue, there was nothing but the flashing of the side of his own mind. He couldn’t name anything, he couldn’t identify anything, he couldn’t comprehend what was around him. He wasn’t him…. He was…. Nothing. He had no identity, no conscience, nothing. He floated in a horrible blackness untouched by emotion or identity, unable to comprehend the terror of infinity of not existing.

Inside his head there was complete silence as the creature rifled through him like a filing cabinet tossing things about like a robber ransacking a home for valuables. His most precious memories were thrown to the floor, tossed into a jumble. His painful memories were sifted through with great care, private thoughts were brought back up examined and discarded, and he could do nothing. With no control over the mechanism of his thoughts he could not run, he could not move, and he could not thing. He was simply a husk floating in the blackness of space.

IT didn’t take the creature long to finish ravaging his mind, and one it was done, it drew back. The captain’s inner voice struggled to stand, to think clawing its way from the horrible blackness the terrible awful blackness of not existing, not feeling. He gasped racked with abject terror as he fled back from the black. His body trembled his mind remained fogged. The tears that broke unbidden to his eyes collected there unable to roll or move without gravity.

“A terrible sin. You are nothing but lies you humans. Nothing can be greater than this abomination.” He could feel the thing still inside his head, could feel its abject horror, hear its thought process slowly churning forward. The creature did not know what it was to have secrets, to have a place to itself. Honesty, truth was not an option, and now here was a creature that kept its mind to itself. So alien, so different, the creature rebelled against the idea.  Not even the sin of murder could have been worse, it could not let its people be exposed to such horror.

In his groggy and barely comprehensible state, Vr tried to remember the controls to the gaspack, but found his memories rearranged, gone, he couldn’t find them, couldn’t remember what to do. “You poor creature unable to understand your sin, unable to truly communicate….. I can help you with that. Just a few spots in your head, in your human brain destroyed, and I can give you true freedom of thought. It will help you block out the world, touch, sensation muted, and hearing gone you will better be able to hear the thoughts of your soul, at least before you die.

He desperately searched inside his own head for the memories, for the thoughts bringing others unbidden to his mind, his first flight, bullies at school, the christening of his ship, his father teaching him to ride a bike, his locker combination at the academy, listening to music with Sunny, teaching krill to play chess. He wasn’t sure when he realized the meaning of this situation, but he felt the horror, the worry, the shame. It rushed over him in a flood of pain.

He was going to die, mindless, and memoryless in the blackness of space.