#if there is an afterlife then he has seen all our fanfiction and I do not care

[lameotello]

It's so funny when I see bagginshield fics tagged with "Sorry Tolkien" like personally I would not apologize to Tolkien for anything. Like, okay, my fic ideas are all disgustingly cute and cottagecore, but even if I came up with the nastiest, most disturbing things known to man to write The Hobbit fanfiction about I would not apologize to Tolkien this man can get over it or get with it

[drowninginblox]

Thoughts on Fit's Last QSMP stream- spoilers ahead

It is Thursday, May 23rd, 2024. 2:36pm EST when writing. And I am disappointed in myself. Not for anything Fit, the server, the admins, or anyone besides me has done.

I hoped. And once again, I am expectedly crushed. I had a feeling that Fit would take himself out of the equation in the way he did. There would be no Pac Camio (ghost or living), no sight of Ramon either. Just business, as Fit is one to do.

But god did I hope for something out of a fanfiction. The biggest contenders were Pac's ghost or a hallucination speaking to Fit at the bottom of that damn hole to prep and escort him to the afterlife where everyone was waiting for them. OR the idea that Fit, after returning to the island, would kill himself in a similar but unique way to Pac and Mike. Regardless, neither happened. But I am very happy in what I witnessed.

I won't get into too much there will be vod watchers who accidentally stumble into Tumblr- to which I tell you, GO WATCH THE DAMN VOD.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the Fit abused in-game mechanics to justify his survival down there. However, it calls into question whether or not he took up cannibalism again (writers you know what to do) in which I digress cus that a conversation within itself. I also appreciated that Fit made the effort to check up on more people other than just Pac and Ramon. It sounds like "Yeah, ofc." but let us remember that most of us (and I could be wrong) are shippers, and our yearning for Hideduo kind of blindsided the other relationships q!fit has. (This applies to me to just so yall know)

What fit did to justify or at least give credence to Ramon's character was sweet and I really hope we get some Ramon-centric fics about the possibility of his survival in an otherwise abandoned world, similar to his father. I may do that on my own but definitely not today. Mr. Fit Em See fucking wrecked me and I really could use some fluff right now. Whether it be at my own hand or someone else's, I could not care less.

Hueveitos, we are all going through it. And I bet on all the money I have that Twitter is going insane, Tumblr is dying, and Fit is either taking a well-deserved break or laughing his ass off at us. Probably both knowing that fucker. The brilliant bitch he is. I apologize for not liveblogging, I was enamored with what was going on. But we all were lol

Anyway, I'm probably gonna listen to the music Fit included in the finale and daydream of better days for q!Fit. Ones where, maybe, in another life, something happened on Madagascar's end where the tech didn't work and Fit was suspended in the QSMP for the rest of his natural life. Maybe Ramon is fine enough and just wondering, looking for Fit in an otherwise empty world. Hell, in another life, Pac waited longer for his American boyfriend. Maybe everyone did. Maybe the kids didn't get sick, maybe they all died a week or so after they were found. Who knows!

But with what we were given, and who we had to spend that time with, I know that I'll always look back on the Qsmp in a similar vein to another sorry sap of a sever I know. The memories will persist, the story will continue to be told. The world will keep spinning, and I will keep writing.

Thank you to everyone who was involved in the experience whether it be seen or unseen admin, CC's who somehow found this post on a hellcite, any and all fandom goers that I have stumbled upon in search of solace from the canon, and my girl over discord! I DON'T KNOW YOU AT ALL BUT YOU'VE HELPED ME GET THROUGH THE LAST LEG OF THIS JOURNEY!!

Here's to tomorrow everyone, regardless of what happens! I love this community and I sure as shit hope you guys don't become strangers!

[heimdallsram]

━━━━ masterlist. soundtrack. archive of our own. taglist.

title: perennial

pairing: heimdall x female! goddess! reader

"You were a goddess of oaths and vows. It was only fitting that Odin would bind you to his service in only the most ironic way that he knew how: marriage."

this fanfiction contains the following: domestic violence, blood, gore, choking, violent sexual content, bad BDSM etiquette, non-consensual somnophilia, blood drinking, unhealthy relationships, and much more content that may be sensitive to some readers. reader discretion is advised.

*for inquiries about the taglist, please dm me and i will add you to it.

 “This… Lady Var. Are you certain she is not an agent of Odin?” Kratos inquired from his seat across the table. Laid open in front of him was Atreus’ journal, complete with the thoughts and ramblings of his son, depicting the very topic of conversation. Brok and Sindri glanced to one another. “She has been in Asgard for her entire life, has she not?”

 Mimir, peering over at the contents himself, clucked his tongue. “I wouldn’t think so, brother. The Var Goddesses have been endlessly persecuted by Odin over the centuries. I would know; he bragged about it quite fondly during our time together. He was very single minded about killing them all before they reached their full power.”

 “Huh?” Brok crossed his arms. “Whaddaya mean?”

 “The first Var goddess, some thousands of years ago, meddled in Odin’s affairs in Alfheim,” the head explained. His face contorted into one of deep thought, as if recalling the memories required him to delve into parts of his life that he was not to keen on reminiscing upon. “I only know this because I was there when it happened. Her name was Siv, and she was a Valkyrie—powerful, elusive, and angry. She… was not happy with some of the things he was doing, so she stepped in before things could go too far. In theory, anyway.”

 “The first?” Kratos rumbled. 

 “Aye, brother, the first. The Var goddesses go through a cycle of rebirth not unlike that of the phoenix, but it’s been so long that I’ve nearly forgotten how it came to be that way.” Mimir turned his gaze towards the book again. “But as I was saying, Siv intervened during one of Odin’s broken vows. The Var goddesses are not evil beings, you must know, and are more like—“

 “The peace keeper or executioner,” the god of war interrupted. “Atreus explained this to me.”

 “Yes well, that’s not exactly��� correct.” Mimir hesitated. “It’s more along the lines of ‘if you break my vows, I will destroy your soul’. See, Odin was threatened by this—Siv could take a soul and dessicate it more thoroughly than any ounce of seidr I have ever seen. There would be no afterlife, no peace for them when she killed them. She was the bastardization of a Valkyrie and her sisters despised her for it.”

 Sindri’s brow furrowed. He sat down at the table, rolling a wire brush between his hands. “I didn’t know this part. Lady Var, she… explained she was bound by the oath and no other.”

 “And she was telling the truth, lad, as much as she could of it. I imagine Odin isn’t working on the full idea of things,” Mimir soothed. Kratos huffed. “Bound by oaths, yes, but only the ones she makes with herself or the ones she chooses to observe. If you could trap a Var goddess you would have a veritable power source in your hands; each of them has a special gift more different than the last. More special as the years go on and they are reborn into something new.” 

 Kratos lifted the book and stared at the charcoal drawing. Nothing discerning stood out to him except for the artistic rendition of the dress she wore. “And she is with Odin now.”

 “Bein’ married, yeah.” Brok lifted his cup of ale and saluted the air mockingly. “The All-Fucker knows he needs to keep ‘er there, so he binds ‘er up with marriage vows to Heimdall so she can’t leave.”

 “Oh dear.” Mimir’s eyes widened. “He’s marrying her to Heimdall?”

 “Yes, when she came here she had been crying, and had bruises around her throat,” Sindri explained softly. His gaze was far away, fixated on the stool across from him where you had sat previously, eating the food and drink they had given you with gusto. “She said he was not happy with the decision and blamed her for it.”

 “Bunch’a hogwash, the whole thing!” The blue dwarf slammed his drink down, sending droplets of alcohol flying into the air. “She ain’t done nothin’ to deserve this!”

 “In Odin’s mind, she very well may have. He despises those he can’t keep under his all-knowing thumb.” Mimir paused. “Though, lads, I don’t truly know how we can help her from here.”

 A silence seeped over the table, impenetrable. 

 “This… goddess,” Kratos began slowly,”she is powerful, yes?”

 “Dunno. Ain’t seen her in centuries until a week ago.” Brok shrugged. “But she was doin’ some mighty strong magic ‘fore Odin snatched ‘er up.”

 “As long as she doesn’t step on any toes, she’ll be alright, my friends. She’s survived in Asgard this long, right?”

 *** 

 Heimdall trudged alongside you in the light of dawn with a scowl on his face. That punch had silenced him for all of five seconds before you were walking off, fury in your step and a fine tremor in your fingers. Odin’s decision to have him supervise you was a foolish one, especially if he was going to open his mouth as he was and mock every little thing you did along the way to the beach—even stop to see the sunrise.

 “Move along, stupid girl, we have places to be. You can see the sunrise literally every day from oh, I don’t know, anywhere else.”

 You ignored him and watched as the sun peaked over the clouds. The cast of pale orange among the darkness was one of your favorite things to witness, present company not included. The little dragons snoozing on the roosts within the walls were beginning to wake, alerting the little folk to the rising of the sun and the dawn of a new day. The sunrise and sunsets in Vanaheim had been gorgeous, when Skoll and Hati would take to the sky and chase the sun and moon to their conclusions. The two wolves, the last you had heard, had been unable to complete the ritual since Odin had interfered with the altars some time ago.

 After a moment of reveling in Heimdall’s silent irritation, you entered the lift and allowed him to pull the lever to send the both of you down. You remained quiet, the knuckles of your fist still aching painfully in protest from hitting your now husband in the stomach. While he did not have the rotund belly of Thor or the sinewy musculature of Baldur, it still hurt quite a bit to hit him like that. Something in the spells on the collar was diluting some of the pain, to a degree, but when you flexed your fingers the sting came back full force.

 “Was it really necessary to hit me?”

 “Was it necessary to strangle me? Or walk out on me on our wedding night as you so expertly did. I was being pitied for days after that.”

 Heimdall deliberately avoided looking at you. “You did bite me. It was only fair, was it not?”

 “No.” The blandness in your tone forced him to look at you, then. He was mildly surprised to see you staring at him, but not completely—it was as if you were looking through him at to the sunset behind him. “I should have killed you and been done with it.”

 Something in those words made him uneasy. “Killing me would kill you, you’re aware? And you can no longer be reborn, little dog.”

 Yet your blank face remained. “Are you certain about that, gullintanni?  Would you like to put it to the test?”

 “I didn’t take you to be suicidal.”

 “That’s because I am not her.”

***

 “Brok, Sindri!” You called desperately. Yggdrasil twisted and turned endlessly, the flickering of your bodily form only momentarily hindered by the falling leaves. Each door that you passed seemed the same as the last, and you were running out of time—quickly. Leaving your body in Siv’s care had been a risk you hadn’t known you could take, but now that you had, you would do your best to warn your friends that you had been trapped more firmly than you could have anticipated. Your eyes flew to a familiar form sneaking among the branches. “Atreus!”

 He whirled around, but there was no one there. “Huh?”

 “Atreus!” 

 “Who’s there?”

 “It is I, the lady Var. I do not blame you for not remembering me, but I am running out of time. Please, listen!”

 His eyes flew to and fro, seeking your figure, but you were nowhere to be found. “How are you doing this?”

 “I have no time to explain. Tell them that Odin has bound me with the Collar of Repentance. Tell them that he has stopped my rebirth cycle. Tell them…” Your voice cracked. “Tell them that I can’t help them like I wanted to.”

 “Wait, what’s the Collar of Repentance? And what do you mean you can’t help us?!”

 “I’m sorry, Atreus.”

***

 “You’re not her,” Heimdall repeated slowly. Your eyes flickered gold, green, back to gold. “Then who are you?”

 A feral smile that was not typical of you crawled onto your face. “In time, son of Angeyja, Atla, Eistla, Eyrgjafa, Gjalp, Greip, Imðr, Jarnsaxa, and Ulfrún. In time. For now, I would enjoy the rest of the life you have left. My descendant may be bound, but I am not, nor will I ever be.”

 Heimdall stiffened at the mention of his mothers. “How do you know those names?”

 “The same way I know that you, above all, desire your father’s honest approval.” A shrug. Casually, the not-you reached behind you and pulled a shrieking green, crystalline bird from out of thin air. In one motion, your hand crushed the bird to dust, green powder lining the furs of your dress. “I’m inside you, now.”

 Before he could demand what she had meant by that—the not you—you blinked and, slowly, a confused expression stole across your face like a thief in the night. You reached up and rubbed your face with one hand, glancing around the lift. “What…?” It was soft.

 So you had been unaware of what happened, then. Heimdall narrowed his eyes as you shook your head, his gaze flying to the space that the green bird had been sitting harmlessly on the railing behind you. So the All-Father had seen it, too; but what could it have been?  What had possessed you in such a way? Whatever it had been, it made something new raise its head in the back of his mind—fear.

 You were violent, yes, but you were weak. Your only defense was having the advantage of his foresight not working on you. You had no magic, no future rebirth, only the ability to see vows and punish those who broke them. But the thing that had been behind your eyes… he had watched, felt, the power crawl out of your pores.

 It had felt like death, like darkness; a dying star.

 It had felt like annihilation.

 But now you were confused, docile, that hostile aura draining out of you to be replaced by something less… cruel. He watched the moment you realized something had happened, and your frown was more pronounced. But you did not say a word. Instead, you shook your head, rubbed your temple, and looked out among the wetlands with resignation in your eyes.

 It was something to keep an eye on. But now he had to keep his guard up, more than before; he could not mindlessly threaten you without risking whatever that had been happening again. You pulled your furs around yourself tightly, and he dismissed the thought. Father trusted him enough to keep watch over you and make sure you didn’t get in his way.

 “This way,” you said and stepped out of the lift, following a destination only you had in mind. He followed, his mind strangely quiet for once, and observed as your posture slumped and your walking grew less rigid. Outside the walls, you seemed to change—you were sullen, sulky. “Keep up.”

 And he did. Over the grasslands and streams, you led him to the shores of Asgard, where two children sat playing in the pale sand. They were young Midgardians, no older than ten or twelve years of age, and they fought each other with driftwood sticks and dirt.

 “Fight me, giant!” One boomed in an imitation of Thor. He waved the stick around as the God of Thunder would his hammer, making a face. “I will use Mjolnir and kill you where you stand!”

 The other child, a little girl, roared in defiance. “No! I, Ymir, will kill you, Aesir god!”

 Their sticks clacked together with childish skill. They moved up and down the beach, laughing and kicking up sand, and you watched with a small smile on your face as they played. The content of the things they were saying may have been dark, but they were happy—could you truly allow Ragnarok to snatch such happiness away from them? They would be Odin’s fodder, his shield against those who knew mercy and pity as a strength.

 You caught a wisp of Heimdall’s thoughts from where he stood some feet from you, leaning against a rock formation.

 … That is not how the story goes, stupid Midgardian children.

 But the story he knew was also inaccurate. You, however, too caught up in watching the children fight and play, did not stop to think too hard about the stories he had no doubt heard from Odin’s side. Instead, you watched the girl plop down into the sand, exhausted. The boy followed her willingly, tossing his stick into the water.

 “We have to do this every day, okay?” She said, sticking her arm out in offer. Her little face was screwed up in determination. “Until we get strong enough to get inside the walls. Together.”

 The boy nodded. “Right!”

 And so a promise was made. You watched the little white string blossom to life between them and observed until they eventually decided they had enough rest and moved further down the beach. Once they were well out of view, you stepped off the grass and into the sand, approaching the ocean cautiously.

 “What are you doing?” Heimdall demanded with a scowl. “You’ve observed whatever it was you came here for. Now we go back.”

 “Shut the Hel up.” You closed your eyes to the faint breeze wafting over the water. It brought you scents of salt, of rain and humidity and cold. “I have no intention of going back into those walls just for the rest of the Aesir to judge me for your wrongdoings.”

 His scowl deepened. “You are no extension of me.”

 “I agree.” You opened your eyes. The words came out unbidden. “You are a pathetic pantomime of your father. A fascimile of a god. You sit and stay, like a good boy, but I know it is only because he has no use for you other than to sit you up on that hideous wall and let you play protector. I wonder if you die, if he will ever mourn you as he did his little closer—Baldur. I think he would not.”

 “Shut your whore mouth.” Heimdall was quick to snatch you by the back of your neck, shifting his hand forward to grip your jaw. It popped threateningly under the pressure. You met his gaze without fear, feeling too bold in your words to ever allow him a victory. “You know nothing of my relationship with my father.”

 “I know enough.” You shrugged loosely. “Everyone knows how Odin sent his child up to the wall the moment he finished learning how to use his powers. The youngest child; the weakest, weaker than even the blind. Born from a fling of a union between Odin and your mothers because he could never honor them, never get over Freya. He’s a monster, and you… you are becoming just like him.”

 You stared at him, considering.

 “Odin doesn’t need another son… just another tool.”

 When you pulled away from him, he didn’t try to stop you. His hand dropped to his side as you walked away, the tiniest knot in your marriage vow unlinking. Doubt. It was small, but it was there, and even the smallest chips in the strongest wall would bring it crumbling down eventually. You would destroy his as he had destroyed yours.

 ‘Good,’ Siv spoke in your mind as you approached the lift some time later. Heimdall had not followed you, so you leaned against the railing to wait. ‘And now we begin.’

| next

taglist: @versiesleeps

[mari-beau]

PARTNERS - A Rogue One Fanfiction

Written for Cassian Appreciation Week 2021 Day 4: Alliance Intelligence

(I know I missed Cassian Appreciation Week entirely with this one, but it got a little more out of hand than the quick scene tags and etc. Actually, tumblr posting etiquette question: At what point is a fanfic considered too long to post directly and should be hosted elsewhere and linked to? Or is inserting a ‘keep reading’ break enough?)

Title: Partners

Characters: Cassian Andor POV; Jyn Erso, Draven

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn

Words: 2633

Setting: Post-Rogue One, Canon-divergent (in that Cassian & Jyn live)

Summary: Cassian receives his first assignment for Alliance Intelligence after recovering from his Scarif injuries, but something is amiss with Jyn Erso. And something is gnawing at him as well...

Spoilers: Rogue One

Warnings: Our heroes have a little bit of PTSD/Separation Anxiety; Also it’s in a layered/nonlinear narrative format, which hopefully is clear/works.

“Where?” she asked. Was there a desperate edge to Jyn’s voice? Or did he just want there to be?

“You know I can’t tell you where.”

Cassian thought she would at least roll her eyes, if not spout sardonic criticism of Alliance Intelligence not even trusting their own people, not trusting those rebels who’d sacrificed everything for the Cause. But she surprisingly remained silent, pursing her lips and giving a little shake of her head.

“Are you allowed to tell me how long you’ll-” She swallowed, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure.” Cassian wanted to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but he’d never seen her look so fragile, and he was afraid a single touch might shatter her.

“Okay.” Her response was clipped, even for her, and she just nodded her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’ll be back, Jyn,” he said. And maybe he’d never actually said it outright, but maybe she needed to hear it. “I’ll never leave you behind.”

Again, she only nodded her head, repeating “Okay.”

He gave into the urge, placed a hand on her biceps and stroked her arm through the layers of her thick thermal jumpsuit.

“Are you-” he tried to ask her whether she was feeling okay, but she shrugged his hand off and bolted, leaving him to watch her fleeing back as she disappeared down an icy corridor, blinking in surprise.

…

Earlier…

“Medical informs me you’re cleared for active duty, Captain Andor.” Draven managed to make it both a statement and a question. Of course he was the head of Intelligence, a spy to his very core, working in vagaries. Except when he issued orders. Those were always clear.

“Yes, sir.” Cassian tried to stand at full attention, but the stance honestly put a little too much pressure on his bad leg. If it was just the artificial hip, he’d probably be sprier than he’d been before. But the deep tissue damage was going to take awhile, if he ever did regain the full musculature in his leg, the tendons and ligaments would never be the same. The fractures in his vertebrae and ribs had thankfully knitted back up and neither bothered him too badly. Even with the unrelenting cold of Hoth.

“I have your next assignment.”

Cassian nodded, accepting the datapad with mission specifics. He gave it a cursory glance.

Deep cover.

“Is this a solo mission?” he asked, but pretended to continue to study the information rather than risk revealing his insecurities to his commanding officer. “Or am I going to need a team?”

Maybe just a partner?

“It has to be you,” Draven said. “And only you. They’re your connections. Well, one of your alias’ connections.”

The older man hesitated, not dismissing Cassian, not continuing with the briefing, just standing, waiting. Cassian mustered the best impassive face he could before meeting his commanding officer’s gaze.

“You’re still one of the best agents we have, Andor.”

Cassian nodded his head in silent acceptance of the reassurance.

“When do you need me to leave?” he asked.

“Whenever you’re comfortable enough with the mission brief. But the sooner, the better.” Draven was still studying him intently, with more scrutiny than Cassian had even faced as an undercover spy. “You know where to find me if you have any follow up questions.”

“Yes, sir,” Cassian said, recognizing his dismissal.

Something twisted deep in his chest as he walked away.

He needed to find Jyn and tell her he’d be leaving.

…

That Day on the Beach of Scarif…

“Look.”

It sounded like Jyn’s voice. Was there an afterlife, then? And could Cassian have somehow been lucky enough to be with her there?

No. No, that couldn’t be the case. There was too much pain. If he no longer had a body, then why did it hurt in the way physical flesh only could?

“Cassian!” Jyn’s voice was more urgent and she was squirming in his arms, her hands tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. “What is that?”

He forced his eyes open. It was bright. So bright. Why was she confused? It was Death.

No. No, it wasn’t?

He squinted, blinking his eyes as he looked off toward the ocean, well, where the ocean had been, where the wall of destruction had… stopped?

Jyn looked at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Is that a-”

“Shield,” Cassian gasped, in utter shock himself. “The Empire must have installed an emergency shield to protect the facility.”

“How long?” Jyn was breathing hard, already scrambling to her feet.

“Against that blastwave? Not long,” Cassian said. “Maybe it has dispersed some of the explosive force already but…”

“Come on.” Jyn was standing, leaning down to tug at his arms. He felt like he was ten times the weight he’d ever been on any planet.

“There’s not a lot of time,” he said, hoping she’d understand.

“Which is why you need to move your ass.” Jyn squatted in front of him instead, shoving her arms under his armpits and basically hugging him, she tried hauling him to his feet, but he was dead weight. He hissed with overwhelming pain that was practically blinding, his legs refusing to function. They collapsed back to the sand in a heap.

Jyn got back up, wincing and holding her injured shoulder before she renewed her attempts to get Cassian onto his feet.

It was a herculean effort for his weary body, but he managed to grab her arm.

“Listen to me, Jyn.” She locked eyes with him, and the desperation and pain he found there stabbed him in the chest, hurting worse than his aching ribs. “You have to go. You have to leave me behind. There’s got to be others still alive out there. Find them, get off Scarif. Leave me here. It’s okay. I want you to leave me. Do you understand?”

“No,” she said. There was a ferocious passion in the depths of her eyes, the green gone all steel grey. Any argument he could possibly make, any plea for her to save herself would not be tolerated.

“You listen to me, Cassian Andor.” Her hands captured his face. Her fierceness took away what little breath he had. “We live together. Or we die together.”

This time when she grabbed him, somehow her small body managed to haul him up, maybe she’d somehow given him some of her strength, some of her unrelenting determination, because his legs held... mostly.

…

Present

Cassian found Jyn hiding in a storage room, sitting on a crate with her hands on her knees, doubled over, breathing in big, sobbing gulps of air. He could only stand there and stare in complete shock. Not even on the beach that day had he ever seen Jyn Erso so… such an emotional mess. Angry. Passionate. Vulnerable. Yes. All those things he had seen in her eyes. But this sort of tangible, physical reaction? It was jarring to witness.

And he hesitated. Never hesitate. It could cost lives, the lives of others, your own.

Rushing to her side, he dropped to his knees beside her, the hard ice floor’s impact mitigated by his thick thermal pants.

“Jyn, what is it? What’s wrong? Should I find a medic?”

He placed a hand on her leg, tried to get her to look at him, but she turned away, her breathing still disturbingly uneven, like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

“N-no,” she choked out. “Just- Just give me a m-minute.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I’m right here. If you need anything, I’m here.”

A sob escaped her, and then she gasped, continuing to struggle to breath, hyperventilating. Cassian just remained there, kneeling beside her, a previously unfamiliar agony tearing at him, watching Jyn suffer whatever it was she was enduring and unable to help her. But he’d stay there, by her side, forever, if she needed him to.

Her breathing gradually grew placid until she was taking deep, regulated draughts of air. And then those determined breaths evened out as well until she was finally breathing normally. And still he waited.

Jyn swore, wiping at her face before she turned to him, and oh, force, her cheeks were raw-looking with tear tracks staining her skin. There were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. As if she’d been awake, hunted, for a week. How did that happen in just half an hour or so?

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Cassian asked. He wanted to know, needed to know, so, “Maybe I can help.”

She nodded but her eyes were bright, welling up with tears. This was Jyn Erso. It took a lot to make the woman cry.

“What is responsible for this? Did someone hurt you?” Cassian could hear his own accent thickening but didn’t care, becoming too agitated to focus on proper Basic pronunciations.

Jyn shook her head but said, “No. Yes… I… fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“What is it, querida?” He took her hand and when she didn’t pull away, squeezed it, caressed her bare palm with his thumb, noting that her skin was getting cold and he should get her back closer to the core of the base where the temperature was more bearable. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

She nodded. And again, Cassian was struck by how vulnerable the woman was. She always had a deeply hurt portion of her soul, but she seemed incapable of letting it show, even to him. It wasn’t deluding himself, or an over-exaggeration. Cassian knew that her friendship with him was different than any other she’d had in her life. It was the same for him. They finally had someone they could trust wholeheartedly.

But he still held his breath, waiting for her to bestow that trust once again.

She looked down at her hands in his, then to his face, her weary eyes holding his gaze, searching for something.

“You haven’t realized it, yet, have you?” she asked. Cassian’s heart beat faster. Realized what? “Until your Intelligence briefing this morning, we hadn’t been more than an arm’s length apart since Scarif. And force, I’m having a fucking panic attack just at the thought of being separated from you. How ridiculous is that?”

Cassian’s mouth had gone dry. He swallowed and wet his lips before he could even contemplate speaking.

“It’s not ridiculous, Jyn.” Maybe he hadn’t realized why, but that uneasy feeling had been twisting his insides since he’d first left for his briefing. And now, now he couldn’t deny its cause.

Because Jyn was right. She’d basically dragged him bodily out of that massacre, off that cursed planet, held him as he drifted in and out of consciousness until he’d blacked out entirely, to wake up in the infirmary on Yavin 4 with Jyn sitting at his bedside, arms folded on the edge of his cot, supporting her head as she slept. And from there, she had been with him his entire recovery. She refused to leave the room when medical staff or droids checked on him, only turning her back to give him privacy. He hadn’t complained. He hadn’t objected. Even when she set up a bedroll in the corner of his quarters when he’d been released from the infirmary. Even when she wordlessly climbed into his bed to soothe his fitful, painful sleep, even when she helped him dress. And shower. And limp down the corridors to exercise his injured leg. And after he was basically as recovered as he was going to get, she stayed. Always by his side.

The memory that would always forever be seared into his existence slapped him in the face.

“We live together. Or we die together,” he whispered.

Jyn’s pupils dilated, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his.

“I meant it,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t think…”

Her hand reflexively clutched at the front of her thermal jumpsuit, seeking the only possession she cared about, the only thing she had left of her mother, her father, the only thing she had that was her own, special. But hadn’t she realized?

She had him.

Cassian took a risk, slid his fingertips over her cheek, which was soft and smooth and warm against his doubtless chilled fingers. But she didn’t flinch from his cool touch. Rather, she leaned into his palm as he cupped her face.

“I know,” he said. And he did know, could see the knowledge of it in her eyes, as well. He didn’t much believe in the Force, and despite the kyber crystal perpetually around Jyn’s neck, she had had a hard life, was a survivor, with a practicality that ran so deep it had taken him, a heartless assassin to make her believe in hope again.

Sometimes, though… Okay, often, he felt like that blastwave had swept them away, disintegrated them on the submolecular level. And then somehow they’d reformed. But their atoms had been mixed up, and he was as much composed of her stardust as his own, and she of his.

It was fanciful. And completely unlike Cassian. The Before Cassian. But now, it was absolutely the way he felt. It was foolish to deny it. And from the way Jyn was looking at him...

He leaned in, his nose brushing hers, his lips feathering over hers as he hesitated, waited for any signal from her, acceptance, invitation, or rejection.

It was an exquisite, agonizing eternity.

But then Jyn sucked in a sharp breath, one of her small yet strong hands grabbing the front of his coat, the other the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. She pulled him into her, her mouth crashing against, hard and hot, and needy. Aggressive and tender at the same time. An inextricable mess. It was how they were. It was who they were.

It was perfect.

…

A little bit later...

“You have concerns regarding the mission, Captain Andor?”

Cassian had managed to catch General Draven in the rare moment where the man was actually in his office, sitting at his desk, reviewing… who knew what… intelligence, battle plans… food reserves…

“I do, sir.”

Draven looked up. Cassian had never questioned an assignment before. He’d always been such a good little soldier-spy. Even though it had been costing him his very soul.

Still, even with the feeling of Jyn’s kisses freshly on his lips, the presence of her burned into his entire being, questioning orders made him nervous. Almost as nervous as allowing himself to have wants, a sense of self beyond what the Alliance had given him.

“Well, what is it, captain?”

“I need a partner.”

Draven frowned in thought. “If I recall… the assignment is best suited for a single operative.”

Cassian swallowed but looked his commanding officer straight in the eye. “Then I won’t be taking this assignment. Or any others for Alliance Intelligence. Not unless I can work with a partner.”

Draven stood, did a quick pace behind his desk before he fixed Cassian with a hard stare. “You would desert the Alliance over Jyn Erso?”

Cassian wet his lips. Revealing such personal, emotional aspects to himself was… entirely against his nature. Jyn did not count. She was simply an extension of himself.

“I would choose her.” Cassian held the man’s war-weary, hardened gaze that still somehow seemed to have an iota of softness about the edges. “I have chosen her.”

We live together. Or we die together.

“She’s my partner.”

Draven sighed, but inclined his head.

“I’ll update the rosters. Make whatever alterations to the mission outline you view fit.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know if you should be thanking me, Andor,” Draven said, but an elusive smirk flitted across his face.

Cassian did not hide his smile as he left, to find Jyn, and to tell her she was the newest member of the Alliance Intelligence unit.

[amerrierworld]

It’s About Time

Harry Potter fanfiction

request for @crescentnightwood​: Remus arrives in the afterlife and he, Sirius, and James share an emotional group hug? Marauders reunited

Summary: Remus wakes one last time.

Characters: Remus, James, Sirius, Lily, Tonks

Word Count: 1,316

Warnings: Feels! I refuse to include Pettigrew in this because he stinks :) I went a little extra beyond just a hug, hope you don’t mind :3

The first breath he took felt as clear and cold as the first snowfall of winter. Remus shot up from where he was lying down, his entire body tense and brimming with an electricity he couldn’t understand. 

It was bright around him, very bright. Everything was a hazy white, but he recognized the old Gryffindor dormitory immediately. Even with the muted colours and tidied room, he knew this place like the back of his hand. A place he often fled to, a place in which he hid, when the outside world became a little too much to bear. 

He grabbed at his chest, were he felt a dull pounding, but it wasn’t his heart. No, his heart wasn’t beating anymore, and he slowly remembered why. He remembered flashes of light, Hogwarts in ruins, searing pain, and Tonks.. by his side.

He turned his head, glancing around. He was on his old bed. Somehow, it fit him this time. It shouldn’t have, because his legs were always long and dangly, but it did.

“Tonks?” he asked into the stillness. 

“She’ll be coming soon, mate,” a familiar voice said from his right. Startled, Remus looked to find Sirius suddenly sitting on his old bed too. Dressed in edgy black, with the same shit-eating grin on his face, he lounged backwards and clasped his hands behind his head on the pillow.

“Sirius? What in Merlin’s name..”

“You should’ve seen him when he first got here,” James laughed from his left. He was sitting on the side of his own bed, spinning his wand nonchalantly in his hand. Remus twisted his body the other way so quickly he may have snapped his spine had he not been dead. “His jaw was on the floor.”

“Well that’s what happens when you figure out you’re dead, Potter,” Sirius cackled.

“I don’t believe it.. the both of you..” Remus kept looking between the two men sitting beside him, eyes brimming with tears.

“Oh now, don’t start sniffling Moony, you only just got here!”

“Yeah and it’s about time!” James added. “There’s plenty of people you still gotta get through before the waterworks start.”

“Well excuse me for being emotional at seeing my best friends in person again,” Remus grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. 

James grinned at Remus and pushed his glasses up his nose, like he always did in school. 

“Why here?” Remus asked. “Is there a specific reason we’re in the Gryffindor dorms of all places?”

“Because this is where the magic happened, Moony!” Sirius threw his hands up like a great declaration had been made. “All the Marauders, mischiefing their way through school, terrorizing the teachers and still making it out in the end without any Ministry on our asses!”

“All the Marauders?” Remus pointed out, looking at the one empty bed across from him. A silence fell over the three wizards.

“He’s not welcome here,” Sirius said coldly. “We don’t even bother with him.”

“Hm. Still, feels a little incomplete, don’t you think?” Remus asked. “It was always four of us Gryffindors, together.”

“Do you have room for a female Marauder then?” Remus looked up to see Lily sitting on Peter’s old bed, her red hair the brightest thing in the entire room, and he sucked in a breath.

“Lily!” 

He smiled, remembering her kindness, her wisdom, and her sharp wit whenever faced with James’ stupidity. 

He remembered learning about her being pregnant with Harry, the teary voice and the hug he received. He remembered her as one of his dearest friends, and the pain he’d felt when knowing she and James had been killed.

He must’ve shown it on his face, because Lily got up and came to sit next to him and grabbed his hand in hers. Her touch was warm and he wiped away the next wave of tears again. 

“Geez, you really became an old sod didn’t you?” Sirius piped up. Lily chucked a pillow at his head, and he snorted. 

“It’s good to see you, Remus,” Lily said to him, rubbing his back. “James wouldn’t stop talking about what you did for our son.”

Remus smiled weakly, “I did what anyone would’ve done in my situation. He.. well, he needed help, didn’t he? Without his father around, I figured..”

Remus paled a little at his own words, “Father... his.. father.. oh God.”

The tears ran freely this time, hot and real, and he pressed his hands to his face. The bed dipped as Sirius came to sit on his other side and James next to Lily.

“I had a son too, a boy... Teddy,” Remus choked out, “I left him behind. Alone.”

“Oh, you didn’t leave him behind, you idiot. Look! You’re still thinking of him, still caring about him, you just can’t be with him physically, that’s all,” Sirius clapped him on the back. 

“Plus, you really think our Harry will let that boy be on his own? Hm? You made him his godfather, and if he learned anything from you or Sirius, it’s that you don’t always need your biological family to feel at home,” Lily smiled kindly at him, reaching over to grasp James’ hand.

“Not to mention the Weasleys, wow! Merlin’s beard, were they ever the saints?” James laughed, making Remus chuckle. “Can’t wait for you to see Fred again, Remus, he-,”

“Fred? What happened to Fred?”

James stilled, “oh, shit. Right, you weren’t with him.”

“Fred died in the Battle too, Remus,” Sirius said, his tone quite serious now. “He’s been saying hello to a bunch of old ginger relatives at the Burrow. We can visit him too, if you want.”

“Oh, poor Fred..” Remus sighed. “What losses war brings. Terrible.”

“It’s not all loss, I don’t think. You lose the land of the living, sure, but you get to be with people like us, again.”

“That’s probably worse,” Remus said, earning him a slap on the back of his head. But, the newly reunited Marauders chuckled, and held onto each other tightly.

“Lily, what you said about Teddy, being alone.. do you mean that-,” he could barely say it. “Tonks?”

Lily’s face was that of sadness, and she nodded slowly. “She’s outside.”

Remus looked to the door, his heart sinking. He had never wanted to put her in this much danger, never wanted her to risk so much..

“She wanted to give us some time with you first, considering how long it’s been, but we can go get her.”

“Or we can go to her, if you want. Stretch those legs, we can show you around.”

“Oh? What else is there?”

“Oh plenty of places! Sirius got here with the rooftop from where he escaped on a Hippogriff, and I got here with the Quidditch playing field.”

“What, so you appear in the areas that you miss the most?”

“Not necessarily, its more a place that means the most, or has a lot of substance in your life.”

Remus was quiet, and then looked at his two best friends, “we all got here with a place in Hogwarts, huh?”

“It is a pretty special place,” James smiled. 

“Now come,” Lily ushered them off the bed. “Remus needs to see Tonks, and then we have to get ready to see Harry.”

“Wh-Harry? He isn’t dead, is he?” 

“Oh no! He’s just got the Resurrection Stone, and is going to want to see us soon.”

“How do you know all that?”

Lily grinned, “a mother’s instinct.”

They got up and let Remus lead the way, opening the door to be greeted by Tonks, grinning and beaming at him from their son’s first bedroom, lights dangling along the ceiling and a crib filled with adored stuffed animals. 

She threw her arms around his neck and laughed, a sound he had so missed. Remus closed his eyes as both Sirius and James place their hands on his shoulders, and he felt at peace.

A/N: I’m not crying, you are!!!

[talrayne]

Memoire of a Cenobite part 2 (a Hellraiser fanfiction)

The less said about my encounter and subsequent transformation, the better. Suffice to say, the Engineer decided on an... appropriate form that fit my interests. The process was excruciating to the point where I thought I would die. I suppose I was dead though. I simply skipped the single event of death and went straight to the afterlife. To the untrained mind, and based on surface perceptions, I had five straight to hell. However, I cannot truthfully say, after all I learned there, that hell is what it was.

Sure, the constant agony might make the distinction laughable, but the torture was another facet of the pleasure The Order of the Gash brought. For most of us, pain and pleasure are distinctly different sensations. For them... us... It's simply another feeling to bring to the extreme. Like caressing sandpaper and velvet. I cannot say how long I was with the order, because time with them doesn't flow like a river. For them, time acts more akin to the currents of the ocean. You might go forward, then hit a nexus and he thrown backwards or even sideways. I didn't just see the immediate future, but the distant past, alternate realities, and other forms of existence that could be assumed to include heaven.

In this torrent, I nearly lost myself. Nearly forgot who I was. I might have, had I not seen you.

There you were, in one reality among infinite. The reason you caught my attention wasn't something as foolish and conceited as "love at first sight". In fact, it was who you were with.

I saw our marriage.

I knew that this was my... our... reality. The recognition of that, and the sight of myself, human again, with an event my new existence made impossible, sparked something I had long forgotten. The desire for a fulfilling life, with a deep connection to another human. Something I had forgotten that I wanted.

While I couldn't control the currents of time I traversed, or in what places and whens the box known as the Lament Configuration would be opened, I could take advantage of those events to learn. I watched as Lemarchand crafted the box of summoning, and saw at other moments that this box was not the only one he made. There were several, and they all had names and they all opened to other... Orders I suppose. Eventually I learned of the box that I needed in order to return.

The Redemption Configuration.

I was fortunate that many who sought out the Lament Configuration had a tendency to collect the boxes of Lemarchand. Though the boxes were almost featureless unless closely inspected, when one has spent enough time with them and drifting through the void, the boxes become easy to recognize. Like a cheat looking for marked cards.

When I eventually found it, it's acquisition was easy. I simply joined the others of The Gash when they came to take the unfortunate (or fortunate depending on your stance) soul. Their attentions were all focused on the begging form held up with hooks while I leaned against the desk and took the Redemption Configuration behind me.

It was later that I found a suitable reason to leave and found a quiet place and time to begin my work on the box. One thing you cannot help but learn in the void is patience, and I used an inhumane amount working on the box. As challenging as the Lament Configuration was to open (an impossible task if you aren't meant to), the Redemption Configuration was more difficult by a factor of ten. Still, I was determined to find and experience the reality I saw with you.

While the box that brought me to The Gash produced beautiful notes of music, this one instead seemed to do the opposite. Ambient sounds faded, light dimmed, and a scent, like peaches and disinfectant filled the empty room.

Unlike The Lament Configuration, solving this one didn't summon anyone. Instead, I felt a form of excruciating pain that I had only experienced as a child, when I had broken my arm in the freezing cold that had partially numbed my flesh. The only way to describe it is the pain feels like an echo reaching it's resonate frequency and traveling your entire skeleton. Had I not been exploring the various forms of agony already, I might have been unable to stand it.

Still, upon reaching the crescendo of torture, everything went blank, and I can only assume I passed out. When I awoke, I was in my bed, empty bottle of liquor beside me and a hangover pounding through my skull.

Most of the events that came afterwards, you know. My writing changed and became darker. I changed my editor and publisher and churned out books that offended sensibilities yet held attention like the aftermath of a grisly train wreck. Then I met you at a book signing. We became close, and were married. We talked of adoption, but something always came up to put off actually adopting.

You wondered why I would wake up at night, silently screaming. I can tell you the truth now. In my dreaming state, I was being confronted for my betrayal. In my waking hours for the last four days, I've been seeing my former compatriots. I'll pass by one in the street and the twisted visages I recognized would once again be a random passerby when I turned around. This was a tactic I once used myself to terrorize. The intent for me though is a warning. A reminder.

This was always temporary.

My time with you has been amazing, and I have no regrets. After I'm gone, you'll find another paper. It's a confession. It'll have an explanation for my death that will ensure you won't be suspected. You'll later receive a phone call. It'll explain that the money I made has been invested and that I've left it to you in the event of my death or disappearance. I have only one more request.

There will be a wooden box. No matter what you feel, it won't bring you to me. Not as you know me. You'll only find a monster wearing my skin.

You cannot destroy the box. You can only give it away, and until you do it'll stay by you, tempting you. It cannot be stolen or lost. I'm sorry, but it'll be up to you to find someone to give it to. I suggest someone who deserves it. No matter what though, do not keep it. It'll only provide you pain.

I must go soon. The bell is getting louder. Enjoy your life please.

I love you.

[orionsangel86]

You want the boys to separate in the end?

Yes. Because it makes the most sense. I don’t say this because I hate them being together please don’t assume that. I love Sam and Dean together, but I find their relationship very interesting in how they have basically been forced from childhood to depend entirely on each other and to not really know how to function without each other and since at least season 8 the show has been showing us just how unhealthy this is.

When I talk about the toxic codependency, I am not being hateful towards the brothers bond. I am just explaining what I feel the show itself has made very clear - that Sam and Dean’s dependence on each other, and desperation to stay joined at the hip, has caused not only a threat to their own safety and mental health, but also a threat to the world. Their terrible decision making when the other is in danger has been shown over and over again. Their willingness not just to die for each other, but to sacrifice the world for each other, is a huge problem, and one that hasn’t been tackled fully in the show, but we have been making great progress with it in the later seasons.

In fact, so much of Chuck’s storyline relies on Sam and Dean’s codependency. In 15x09, the vision that Chuck showed Sam of the future where “they won” was tied heavily to the brothers inability to let each other go, even when they were both extremely unhappy. They just spiralled until they ultimately became what they had always fought against. Of course, there were other key factors such as Dean losing Cas which caused him to give up leaving his only reason for living being his brother (which is a bleak and horrid future but one that did make sense given the season 13 grief arc), but ultimately it was the reiteration of “Butch and Sundance” and the call backs to the warewolf murder suicide from 15x05. Sam and Dean’s codependency is always their downfall.

When the show has explored the brothers separate desires, dreams, and wants, throughout the series, it has always clearly shown how different those desires are. Sam has previously questioned whether he would continue to hunt without Dean. He has said that he couldn’t do it without him, but so much of the time hunting and Sam are not portrayed positively. It always comes across as an obligation or something he has resigned himself to. Sam has explored taking a leadership role - which he suited extremely well until his set back in season 14, and he has also been a sort of apprentice to our Witch Queen Rowena. More recently, his relationship with Eileen has been framed as a realistic goal for him. She is a hunter too, but they are also both legacies. Sam’s desire to learn and gather lore, his interest in magic and his leadership skills have all been built on and explored more heavily in Dabb era. It stands to reason that Sam’s future and endgame lies somewhere among these things.

Dean, on the other hand, thrives in hunting. Where Sam was dragged back into it much to his own protests, Dean always enjoyed it. Dean enjoys the hunt. He wouldn’t have called Purgatory “pure” if that wasn’t the case. But Dean has also expressed his desire for a beach vacation and also a partner to stay by his side. He says he won’t do the apple pie life, but so much of Dean’s arc has been about finding a happy middle ground between apple pie life and hunting. Dean has a lot of abandonment issues - something the show has made very obvious since season 1, and in later seasons what I have always called Dean’s “pining arc” has continued to subtly play out in the subtext. Sam may have the clear romantic love interest right now, but Dean still very much wants that too. 15x10 showed this through Garth, and through Dean’s dream, where symbolically his platonic dance partner disappears and instead Dean dances with a lamp whilst imagining a love interest. The meaning in that is blatantly obvious.

Given that Chuck’s ending wish is for the brothers to die in some epic murder suicide way, we know that this won’t happen. Sacrifice is also old news on this show, so in fact is death in general since death will never be satisfying in a show that made death trivial in season 2. I believe that part of the endgame will be a massive shake up of the afterlife and the various realms but I still don’t think the show can end with both brothers dead. So how then are we supposed to close out this story if they stay alive and are still just doing what they do? There still needs to be some sort of bittersweet feel to it. It has to feel like the end of an era, but once you rule death off the cards, a brother separation by choice is the only thing that feels right.

Plus it makes sense. The toxic codependency MUST end. That is a big key area that has been laid out as a negative quality in the brothers relationship for seasons now. Sam must choose to find his own path away from standard hunting, and Dean must find a level of peace that allows him to go on whilst also letting Sam go. Dean must choose to let Sam go, just as Sam must choose to walk away.

This is why Castiel and Eileen are so important. Eileen has her purpose by Sam’s side. The liklihood that she is an endgame match for him is very strong. Even if they don’t actually take the relationship any further in text, just her coming back and standing by Sam’s side would be enough now following the kiss for the show to set that relationship in stone.

Castiel has his own journey to make, one that includes fixing heaven, guiding Jack towards his true purpose (my speculation being him taking Chuck’s place as God), and making a choice about his own future. Given every single one of Castiel’s storylines so far in the entire series, Castiel should choose Dean.

Whether this means Castiel decides to permanently give up his halo or not remains to be seen, but Castiel fits the missing space by Dean’s side in every way. I don’t just say this as a Destiel shipper, I say it because the story has placed Cas in this role countless times now. It makes sense. Regardless of whether the surface level relationship between them remains platonic or takes that final step, I am pretty damn positive the ending will keep Dean and Cas together, with the “end of an era” closing bittersweet emotional note being Sam and Dean saying goodbye to one another and parting as brothers who have been on one hell of a journey, but recognise that it has come to an end.

Frankly, it’s my ideal ending for the show. Sam taking Eileen’s hand and making the choice to travel the world searching for other Men of Letters chapter houses, to collect more magical artifacts, and to build a better resource for other hunters world wide to tackle the remaining supernatural creatures on Earth (yes I know i’m entering fanfiction territory here but I love the idea of Sam being a Supernatural artifact hunter in Europe - give me THAT spin off!) and Dean and Cas sitting side by side in the Impala, on their way to the beach - Dean will take Cas shopping first of course. He’ll try to convince him to buy a tiny blue speedo but Cas will raise an eyebrow and pick out the novelty swim trunks with the little bees on them (He’ll alsosecretly get the speedo for later).

Okay okay I’ll stop with the fanfiction :P. Other than my silly ending headcanons, the parting of the brothers just makes sense. If you don’t agree that’s fine. This is all just my spec and Dabb does have a tendency to throw major curveballs at us so who knows what will actually happen. So long as they don’t go all Game of Thrones on us.

[tigers-eyes-26]

My Theory of Huey, Louie, and Dewey’s Father

Disclaimer: In college I had an Oceania literature class. One of those books was Potiki by Patricia Grace. Really good book about indigenous peoples struggles. One of Potiki’s main character Toko has a mysterious conception. It made me think of the boy’s father being such an unexplained mystery. I am not Maori. IF you are Maori you can Correct anything in this fiction just add your comment. This is a work of fanfiction and is just for fun. Also, I can’t write accents, just know all the Maori people are talking in a Aotearoa accent, and Scrooge has Scottish Accent. Also Trigger Warning there is a rape scene, but it is not explicit. Also, thoughts of abortion, mentions of getting drugged. 

“Who is our father?”

 “Oh no one needed to be remembered.”

Aotearoa in the 2000s

Della wasn’t allowed in the men’s meeting house, where her brother and uncle were. The other women invited her to hang out with them, but she ended up hanging out with the kids of the community.  They played tricks on her and let her play their games. Della stepped aside to “catch her breath” but she really wanted to see if she could hear was the men were talking about. She wasn’t going to go inside the house, but it was made of wood, so hopefully she could hear from the outside. She put her ear to the back of the meeting house.

“Oi!” Della jumped she looked for the voice that called. A child around ten years old smiled up at her. she had seen him around the community. “What you doing?”

Her eyes darted around, “nothing just… just admiring these….carvings.”

The child was unconvinced but continued with the topic. “If you really want to see a carving there is one in the sea caves over there.” the kid pointed off to the rocky cliffs that waves roughly crashed against.

Della saw the challenge. “Why is it in a cave?”

The kid shrugged. “No one will tell me.”

Now her curiosity was peaked. “Well let’s go look at it.”  

Della gathered a wetsuit and some supplies from their boat. The kid pointed to a little arch that was just barely above the water. “Under there is a large cave with the Tekoteko in it.”

Della hummed she looked at the waves timing them. “This carving better be good.”

“Some say it is the most handsome Tekoteko in the entire world.” He made a circular motion with his arms and stood on his tip toes.

“Why would they put a ‘handsome’ carving in a cave?”

He shrugged.

“One last question before I jump in.” Della squirmed a little, “Do ya think there will be fish?”

the kid gave her a look like she was crazy. “it’s the ocean lady! Its where fish live!”

“I know but with the waves do…. Do you think they will touch me?”

The kid sighed. “I don’t think the fish can follow you into the cave.”

Della took a deep breath to stele her nerves. “Ok I have a mystery to solve.” Put in her respirator in and dove into the sea.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about the fish below you. She tried to focus on her goal. She got to the arch and dove under it. There really was a cave!

She got out her flashlight it was a really deep cave. she treaded onward. Why keep a carving this hidden?

She was expecting booby traps but there was none. Just a cave. how bor…. Wait was that a sound? Della stopped her inner monolog to listen carefully. There was a rushing of the ocean. She darted around to see if there was water coming into the cave. noth.. oh! There it was again.

“Hello?” she called.

“Eh” a voice answered

“Show yourself!” she prepped herself for a fight.

There was a cough. “Sorry… I don’t….like…light.” the voice was a young man’s but sounded unused.

Della wasn’t going to turn off her light, that a perfect excuse to ambush her in the dark.  “Who are you!?”

“I…guard the…Tekoteko…”

A Guard? Down here? for long time? in the dark? Whoever he was he wasn’t human.

“Well sense you guard it, you’re going to tell me to turn around and ever come back.”

“no….come….look.”

“It’s going to put a curse on me isn’t it?”

“some say….curse…. some say blessing……”

Mmmmm was this reverse psychology? “Why was it put down in this cave?”

“It’s their….magic….used…by….outsider. He….wished….for….eternal life…..”

“He became the carving, didn’t he?”

There was a chuckle. “intuitive…..”

“And if I break him out of the carving I get caught in the statue as he lives free?”

“He….needs….only….to be…..remembered.”

ah they put him down here to be out of sight out of mind. “Ok so just give me his name and I can write it in my journal and he will be remembered.”

“His name….its written….on…the….Tekoteko.”

“Nope this is a trap.”  She turned on her heel to leave. She took one step down into WATER! The tides! The water was rising. She had stayed in the cave too long. “Awwww Phooey!”

“continue….forward…higher… ground.”

Della sighed the voice was right she had been heading up a slope. Might as well keep going.

She came to an opening to an alcove. Ok just don’t look or touch the carving. She looked down at the ground it had some soft moss so that was good. She turned around to look at the ocean water.

“the….ocean….can’t…..reach…here.”

She realized the voice came from the back of the alcove probably from the carving itself. She just needed to wait until the tides lowered.  She heard wood creaking. She turned around trying to only look at the feet eh? stump? “Stay back!” She held her flashlight in front of her.

“I….need…only…to be…..remembered.”

“ya a creepy talking walking wooden statue that trapped me in a cave, hard to forget.”

“you’ll….. forget.”

Della felt hands on her arms. She struggled but the grip tightened. “Let go of me! You big palooka!” she tried to keep the flashlight on the statue.  She kicked at the wooden body, it didn’t seem to effect it. She banged her flashlight against his arms in hopes that she would splinter them. She pushed her feet against his body in hopes that she could slip out of his grip. The fingers started to grow long slender and slink down into her hand causing her to drop the flashlight.

“Look…..” his wooden arms slithered like a vine around her arms up to her face. She struggled more biting at the crawling wood. it got purchase of her head to hold it still.

“NO!” She grit her eyes closed. She could feel some splinters slithering into the corners of her eyes. “No!” Her eye lids were forcibly pried open. She saw the face of the Tekoteko. The eyes open on the carving. Underneath the wooden lids were shiny iridescent orbs. She had seen this on the other figures in village, but these eyes weren’t just shying with sunlight but with magic. Her mind started to fog. No! she couldn’t move her eyes. Her mind started to feel numb. She couldn’t open her mouth she figured the wood had wound itself around her beak.

“I need descendants.” This statement didn’t come from the statue it echoed around in her head. She felt her consciousness slipping.

***************************************************************

Della gasped jolting up. What…. What happened? The flashlight was still on. She picked it up and did a sweep of the alcove. She jumped when she saw the still carving. She waited. It didn’t move. Its eyes were open but there were no shiny part anymore just empty holes. She looked down at herself did she absorb his soul? Was he living in her mind now? She needed to know what kind of magic that was.

She zipped up her wet suit tighter around her neck. She found her oxygen tanks they had been unstrapped on thrown to the side. They still worked thank goodness. She started down though the sea cave. The tide had subdued. How long had she been out? She managed to make it out of the sea cave and into the waves. Her body felt weak.  

“Della!” she looked up at the cliff. Her brother dove into the ocean and her uncle was surrounded by the rest of the tribe. Donald wrapped a rope around her so the tribe could haul them out of the ocean.

 Della was chanted over and washed. So, she could enter the village again. The chief’s wife and several other ladies with tattoos on their chins. Gathered Della into a women’s house. Gave her regular clothes back. Once she was dressed, she was invited to sit among the women.

“I am so sorry for what has happened to you.” Lamented the Chief’s wife.

“What exactly happened to me?”

The ladies looked at each other. “Did you not….see?”

Della felt uncomfortable. “I was in some sort of hypnotic state…...”

There was a breath let out. “That may be a blessing.”  

Della only raised an eyebrow.

The lady continued, “Our statues that are carved are of relatives long gone. It is forbidden to carve people who are living. The purpose of the Tekoteko’s is for us to remember our ancestor’s stories. We keep our ancestors alive though us. The one that made that carving thought this meant he would be kept alive forever. A misinterpretation. No one is meant to carve unless they are set a part to do so. He was an outsider dealing with things he didn’t know.” The Chief lady rubbed her head irritated. “By carving that Tekoteko and having no descendants to keep his stories. He tied his soul to the Tekoteko….” Everyone now looked at Della. “Until he has descendants to release his soul from the wood.

Della started to sweat.

“We put that Tekoteko in that cave so that none of our girls would be…. harmed by him.”

Della felt like she would pass out. She took some deep breaths. “What should I do?”

“That is up to you.”

“What if I don’t have his…. descendants?”

“Our priest has some theories. But none of them are pleasant for your afterlife.”

Della frowned. “what if I… go through with it?”

“Our priest tells us his soul will move on. They will be the ones to continue his memory. They are his gate to being released from this world.”  

“I need to think.” she jogged out of the house.

****************************************************

Donald’s hands were broken for sure. He didn’t care. He wanted to demolish the one that had done this to his sister.  He had was laying on the grass, Tribes people were picking up the scraps of wood Donald had punched off the trees around him. Someone was going to get a new canoe from the tree he had downed. Della found him. She scooped up his body and hugged him. He started to huff and puff again.

“Dumbella!”

“WHAT!” she dropped his lame body back on the ground.

He hopped up at once, “You shouldn’t have gone in that dumb cave alone!” He squawked at her.  

She stood with her hands clenched. “I’m 25-year-old adventurer!  I don’t need an escort every where I go!”

“Well maybe you do!”

“What about you? 20 year old college student going off to South America with your band and getting drugged and beaten!”

They huff and puffed at each other, but the huffing and puffing turned into cries. They both cared about each other and just wanted to protect each other. They hugged again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to go home.” She looked around the grove of trees. “Where is Uncle Scrooge?” Donald looked around too. They heard a snuffling behind a tree.

They approached their uncle’s hiding spot. Della gave a knock to the side of the tree. Scrooge quickly rubbed his handkerchief over his eyes. He looked up at the twins. “What am I going to tell Hortense?” his voice still shaky.

Della looked at Donald for some assistance. He just blinked at her. She took a deep breath. “Whatever we tell them, we’ll tell them together.”

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Web One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 7 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Astrid apologized, agreed to everything and Thor lead them to a location to hide their vehicle.

"Loki will be pleased to know your helping."

"I should have thought to from the start." She regrettably admitted.

Frigga hugged him. "Thank you for agreeing to take her back should this fail." ***** For eight days, their plan worked until her Father paid the palace an unexpected visit.

Odin was in the front courtyard boasting to some Einherjar about beating an Embassador at charades, when their commander, Nedvar, interrupted. "Ignoramus at twelve o'clock, Sire."

The King groaned. "Splendid. It's Rodderick the dipshit."

"Give the word and we'll pitch him over the wall."

"Tempting, but what do I tell my daughter in law?" Odin hated the occasionally unkempt Lord who preferred perfuming to bathing and greeted him from behind a hedge. "Welcome Roddy. I look so forward to your unscheduled visits."

The disdain was mutual with Roddy feeling Astrid could've done better than wed whom he considered a criminal, Prince or not. "Greetings, Heiness. Might you be so kind as to share the knowledge of when your son intends to return?"

Astrid's parents had two daughters, her being the youngest and known to the Royals as her Father's least favorite.

"That depends on whom you miss more. Asgards lovely Duchess, or my son? Her beloved pardoned Prince. I can give either a message."

"Miss? Impossible as Astrid's practically taken up residence again. Should I relay you wish she ceased luring her Mother from bed crying, or send her home to disturb your sleep?"

"I wasn't aware she'd returned from Midgard. Has age required you hearing aids, or were you night prowling in hopes of accessing Ingrid's locked bedchambers again?"

Roddy frowned and crassly replied. "The lovely Duchess returned with Frigga. Is your wife telling lies, Allfather? Mine would never."

Odin cackled. 'Festering dimwit. Ingrid is banging my valet.' "You shall regard Frigga as 'Queen' and with utmost respect."

"My apologies. She is celestial, yet your defensiveness is revealing."

Roddy liked poking subtle jabs at the Royals and assumed Astrid a barrier to consequence. Most were directed at Loki and the King, but he'd worn Odin's patience too thin. "Insult anyone in my family again, including your daughter and face repercussions. Be gone, Rodderick."

"So soon?"

Odin's jaw clenched. "Leave egghead before I crack it on the pavement. Nedvar, escort him to the gate."

"Gladly, Sire."

Roddy followed, hardly perturbed. "One might expect the offering of a beverage after a stuffy carriage ride."

The commander jolted the gate closed. "Try opening a window Lord Heskin. If you're thirsty, there's a pub nearby rumored to host naked wrestling in the basement. Some days it's ladies, others gents. Enjoy."

When Odin entered their chambers bellowing to the Allmother, her lady in waiting sent word through a chain of servants to a handsomely paid Stableman. Familiar with an alternate route to Astrid's parents, he arrived ahead of Roddy and rushed her to the observatory.

Thor received her call and left immediately. 'Shite, brother. Where art thou?' ***** Following two days in Paris, Loki and Brianna cruised Lake Laguno in Switzerlandand. She questioned him about Asgard and her grandparents, yet when asking the circumstances behind his adoption, Loki spun a tale of half truth.

"Jotunheim had a King named Laufey who owned a magical cube that opened bridges to every realm. Long ago, he used it to attack Earth. Grandfather bravely defended your realm, forced his army back to Jotunheim and demanded he relinquish the cube. Laufey refused and continued attacking Asgards army until most of his people died. Grandfather found me alone amidst the rubble and decided to adopt me."

"You didn't tell him who your parents were?"

"I was an infant and the only survivor for miles."

"Where was Laufey?"

"He'd gone into hiding like a scaredy cat."

Instead of finding his comment amusing, anger washed over Brianna. "He abandoned a helpless baby to freeze? Introduce us and I'll use him as target practice."

Loki booped her nose. "I'm honored you wish to avenge me, but Laufey died and still suffers in the afterlife."

"How?"

"King scaredy cat will never have the privilege of meeting you."

Brianna smiled. "Or you. Was Grandfather hurt?"

"He lost an eye, but recovered nicely."

In Amsterdam, they visited the Artis zoo with over 900 species of little animals, an aquarium, planetarium and Zoological Museum. Further confirmation Brianna's his was how quickly she learned enormous amounts information and remembered the smallest details when later initiating a quiz. Since confessing to the burglaries, Loki was curious how she knew the homeowners were abroad and worked it into their conversation.

She replied like it was all in a day's work. "Dory accompanied me to different parks in fancy neighborhoods around Jersey, posing as my babysitter. Between eavesdropping on adults and questioning kids, it's amazing what you can learn inside a sandbox."

"Questions of what nature?"

"Like, 'I'm new to the neighborhood and love my big house. Where do you live?' Or, 'I'm going to visit my aunt Matilda's lavender farm to make soap.'"

"How was that helpful?"

"Most thought it dull and bragged of their families planning grander trips. Once attaining addresses and dates, I'd stake out their houses and proceed from there."

"Ah. With Dory as the lookout?"

"I left her in shelters or nearby motels. She never figured out how I managed, but by the third burglary, stopped worrying whenever I'd sneak away and send her a text." His eyes widened and Brianna rose a palm. "Dory lacked powers and I wouldn't risk her arrested because of me."

Why lecture when she'd acted out of desperation to find him? "You're a good friend, Og Min Lille."

"Thanks. I regret the stealing, but pranking the authorities was fun."

Loki thought it something innocent like tipping off their hats, but discovered her mischievousness paralleled her intelligence.

"I always struck at night and at one house, four police were investigating inside when I turned on the lights, flushed every toilet and set off their sirens. At the third, I poured a large olive oil path onto the kitchen floor, slammed a pantry door and watched two come running. One slid into it and fell, while the other amusingly contorted himself until the first tripped him. They sure swear a lot for the good guys."

"Brianna." He playfully scolded. "Say you did nothing worse."

"I'd be lying."

"Oh?"

"At the last house, the master bedroom had black drapes and life size models of a lion, wolf and a fang baring polar bear on its hind legs. Weird people. After aligning them near the door, I closed it, extinguished the lights and tripped the alarm. The police came, shone a flashlight inside and from the foyer, I made the bear roar."

Loki chuckled. "Did they scream?"

"And shot the bear."

"What?!" He led her someplace quiet. "From now on young lady, all pranks must meet my approval or…" While pondering means of discipline, he blurted what first came to mind. "...All shoulder and piggy back rides are discontinued."

He made both fun, thought Brianna. Bumping into things when her hands covered his eyes, then flipping her over his head for tickles. Or feigning valiant attempts at shaking her off to escape enslavement.

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~ "Have mercy and release me!" He pleaded, captured during a picnic.

Brianna popped him on the head with her fake sword, a stick with a bushel of leaves at its tip. "Cease your begging, pheasant! I rule this realm, appoint you my new zombie slayer and hunter of all things chocolate. Fail and be fed to puppies!"

Loki set her down and knelt on one knee with a hand to his chest. "A frightful demise your majesty of cuteness. I humbly accept."

"Daddy, I'm supposed to be fierce."

"Eh he he he. Sorry." ~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

Brianna deliberated his threat and wittingly proclaimed. "Are you not the God of Mischief and I your offspring?"

He arched a brow. 'Don't laugh or she'll never take you seriously.' "I mean it."

Brianna had already pulled some under his nose. A boy who'd aggressively budded before her at a park slide discovered his shoelaces tied together after nose diving into the sand. A woman at a restaurant who harshly berated a server had red wine spilled onto her Gucci bag. Minor sprinklings of karma she happily administered.

"But you're still a prankster."

"Rarely and without endangering anyone." 'Shite. I'll need to keep that fib under wraps.'

Brianna crossed fingers behind her back and feigned defeat. "O-kay. Can I have a snow cone now?" ***** After seeing the Northern lights in Norway, they'd returned to their hotel where she became oddly sombre.

"Has something upset you?" Loki asked.

"During our travels, I've seen many people with children. It's obvious they're loved, but my family..why, Daddy?"

Her pain pierced Loki's heart as she clung to him. "People can do terrible things for incomprehensible reasons, but you're my little girl now and I'm overjoyed you've come into my life."

When her tears ceased, she unexpectedly opened up about the women. Her first memory was of Jillian singing her to sleep at age three. She and Claudia taught her to talk, walk, bathe and dress herself, brought her toys, fictional and educational books. Yet it was Jillian who'd paid her the most attention, their visits consistently monitored by Hannah. A person so controlling and void of sentiment, Brianna wondered how the trio became friends. The woman opposed their closeness and the first time Brianna defended her Mother, she was forbidden upstairs without Hannah present, who ordered Claudia to report otherwise. This became impossible when the two landed full time jobs. With Jillian delegated homemaker, Hannah was forced to trust her. Over the past year, she'd broadened Brianna's computer knowledge, snuck her for walks to a hidden trail entrance off the main road she'd marked with glow in the dark tape, taught her outdoor safety and survival skills and always stressed keeping everything secret, especially Brianna's magic or Hannah would separate them for good.

"Jillian knew of your powers? Why have you never mentioned any of this?"

Brianna frowned. "She bread me to thicken her purse. No amount of secrets and added kindness makes that excusable or her worthy of commeding."

An undeniable fact Loki avoided arguing. His daughter was hurting and preaching Jillian might've experienced a change of heart could impede their relationship.

She halted his conflictual thoughts by bashfully asking. "Do 'you' love me?"

"Very much, Brianna."

"Can I stay with you forever? Please? I'll move to Asgard."

Loki doubted she comprehended the gravity of her words. "Forever doesn't mean a month long visit as we previously discussed. It involves permanently residing on another realm thousands of miles from Earth where the landscape, culture, even people's wardrobe's are entirely unfamiliar."

"I know. Devoid of space travel, would it be any different if I moved to India, Antarctica or say..Bhutan?"

"I suppose not. I'm sorry, Bhutan?"

"It's a small country just south of China. I memorized Earth's geography and most of its cultures in one month."

"Very good." 'Genius supreme. I must catch up.' "Then you're willing?"

She yawned, proudly raising her chin. "Affirmative. I'd like to see those sandbox dwellers top that adventure."

Incredibly relieved, Loki chuckled. "You've ten remaining seconds to gloat, sleepyhead. Ten..nine.….three, two, one."

"Hey, you said those last digits awfully fast."

"It's time for vampire pajamas, your fierce and Royal Highness."

"A story too? Will you conjure The Empty Grave by Jonathan Stroud?"

"The Empty 'what?'" He amusingly queried. "No way, Jose. I've chosen three options of popular children's literature from the internet. The Cat in the Hat, Whinnie the Pooh, a rather peculiar name for a bear and Charlotte's Web."

"Isn't the last tale about a spider?"

"Yes."

"They're creepy. I choose that one."

'Mother would be impressed.' "Hurry then before zombies find us and eat my brains!"

Brianna shouted from the bathroom. "Nobody hurts my Daddy! Huyya! Take that you fiendish barbarians! Uh oh."

Loki rushed in upon hearing glass crack and found her standing on the bathtub ledge. "What did you do?"

"I was pretending to fight them off with my hairbrush when it flew from my hand, struck that picture and landed in the toilet."

He laughed renewing both with magic. "Your toothbrush is safe, yes?"

Loki finally thought her asleep when she reached out for a hug.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I forgot to say I love you too. Goodnight."

His heart swelled twice its size. "Goodnight, Og Min Lille." ***** Next they ventured to London and a budding lover of history, Brianna asked to visit The British Museum. While viewing a dinosaur skeleton from an upper walkway, she pointed into the crowd below.

"Daddy, isn't that Tony?"

He took a gander. "Well, well. Iron Man it be."

"Who's the strange lady he's with?"

"Pepper, darling. She often wears wigs to avoid recognition."

Her eyes brightened. "Please, can we say hello?"

"Inconspicuously. I'll him send a text." Daddy concealed his phone. 'Greetings kinky crossdresser. What brings you to Londinium?'

'Loki???'

'Yes. Act casual, we're hiding.'

'Holy shit! We're on vacation and at the Savoy in the Royal Suite. Can you meet us there ASAP? It's important.'

'We're on the ninth floor. Rendezvous in an hour?'

'Ha! We'll be there with balls on!'

'Come again?'

'🤪 Bells, dammit! Bells!'

'😂 Brianna can't wait.'

Tony hurriedly guided Pepper through the crowd. "Excuse us..pardon us..excuse us."

"Where's the fire?" She whispered.

"Daddy Snowflake's in town. Hustle, Butch." ***** Their door opened and Brianna ran to him. "Uncle Cootyoodles!"

"Little Warrior! Am I happy to see you!"

The couple listened with enthusiasm about everywhere she'd been, then Tony asked to speak with Loki alone.

Virginia led her into their bedroom. "Wait 'till you see all the cool stuff I bought."

"That'll keep her busy." Said Stark. "Pepper's a London shopaholic. So why the vanishing act? Thor called me."

Loki scoffed. "I did tell him not to."

"Don't be angry. Astrid returned and wanted to contact me."

"Why? You knew nothing."

"She didn't believe him. Neither did your Mother and Thor worried they'd show up at the Tower."

"What?! Our Mother came to Midgard in search of me? Shit..shit!"

Stark told him everything and Loki's face was unreadable. "Nope. There's nothing weird about staring like I've grown a nipple on my face."

"Did I mention it's pierced? You're saying 'my' brother, Shakespeare in the park, lied that extensively for me?"

"Yes and sent them back to your Dad to expand on it. What's everyone's problem with an awesome six year old anyway? Is that why you didn't go home?"

"Becoming a parent, you're suddenly bombarded with complex decisions centered around one tiny person you never fathomed loving so deeply, much less an indisputable desire to protect above all else."

Stark smiled. "Look at you. The master of Sheisterism all growed up..whose dodged my question."

Loki sunk into a chair. "Maturity aside, my life is a mess. Asgards people still regard me a traitor, Astrid and I are constantly arguing and it's completely unfair of me to expect she Mother a child she didn't bare and Odin's my grandest worry for classified reasons I've become an insomniac over. I can't subject Brianna to that. Her life has been dreadful enough."

"Not anymore. She has you now. I endured shitloads of public and political outrage over changes to Stark Industries. 'Wealth aside', I thought it my doom. People adjust and opinions fade. Astrid will come around once they meet. Look at the number Little Warrior did on us."

"She 'is' irresistibly charming."

"Whatever gramps issue is, arrange for her a few rounds with the old coot. She'll straighten him out."

Loki smirked, picturing Brianna dancing circles around the Allfather. "My Mother would buy ring side seats."

"See? The bulk of your family is on your side. Let them help."

"As appealing as that sounds, Astrid will expect hours of explanation I haven't the energy to convey. I love her, but she 'is' a drama queen."

"Eligible for an academy award."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Piss off, flying human."

"Thor's willing to talk without the wifey knowing. I've a burner phone as you tend to appear in the strangest of places."

"Mm. Like when I ran into you in a sleazy massage parlor near Carnegie Hall?"

Loki was still a bachelor then, but Tony wasn't.

"I didn't know they offered sexual favors until the masseuse grabbed my dick. They weren't listed on the brochure."

"Eh he he he. I'll call when I've a chance."

They clammed up when Brianna exited the bedroom. "Can I go Daddy, please?"

Pepper followed. "Sorry. I blabbered the Tea shops chocolatiers add finishing touches to their masterpieces at this hour."

"You may." Said Loki.

Tony slipped Little Warrior fifty euros. "Buy me an eclaire and keep the change. Badass ate mine."

"Yay! Thank you!"

They left and Stark unpacked the phone. "Here's your chance while Brianna's absent. Text him, 'Garage?'" ***** Jane distracted Astrid while Thor sat in the cabin of his truck and the brothers soon cleared a lot between them.

"I'm not upset you deceived me anymore Loki, nor is Mother. Yet I'm worried Father's making her life miserable. Are you fearful he'll scorn Brianna?"

"Not up for discussion and relax, brother. You've been gone a while. Mother's gonads have grown."

"She's taking male hormones?"

"I meant she's less meek? Have you dropped the toaster in your bathwater?"

"That only happened once." Thor defensively replied. "I was late for a waxing of my package and hastening making breakfast. Nor have I recently smoked Jane's medical marijuana. She threatened torture were there not enough to ease her menstrual cramps again."

Loki deadpanned. "Norns you're a tit, fruit of Odin's loins.' "How's Astrid?"

"Coping. Jane said she'd do anything to see you again."

"Coping amidst stewing over my bedding of another 'Midgardian hoe' I've fathered a child with, and the humiliating circumstances involved."

"Believe me, brother, she too is no longer angry and the diaries contents stayed within Stark's walls. It isn't my story to tell."

"Your software needs reprogramming, impersonator. Thor Odinson was never so thoughtful of his sibling."

The blond laughed. "He's turning over a new leaf."

Loki had sought privacy in another room and suddenly heard Brianna desperately calling him. "I have to go. Don't tell Astrid we spoke yet." Upon opening the door, she threw herself at him.

"Daddy!"

"What happened?" He asked Pepper.

"We neared the shops door when she gasped, bolted for the elevator and started frantically pushing the button."

Brianna was trembling. "Darling, why are you frightened?"

"We can't stay here, Daddy! She's down there!"

"Who is?"

"Hannah!" She cried. "I'd know that red headed witch anywhere!"

"Shhhhh." He soothed. "I promised they cannot hurt you, remember? Stay here with..."

Brianna wrapped herself tighter around him. "No Daddy! Don't leave me!"

She was so distraught, he couldn't. "I won't, Min Lille. Shhhhh."

"Virginia's gone." Said Tony.

Loki's head shot up. "Back to the shop?"

"Yeah. Said the witch looked familiar and went on a hunt."

"Fuck! Get her back here!" Brianna jumped from Loki's voice. "Sorry Min Lille. Tony, now!"

"Erm..why?"

"Because they've met! If Pepper confronts her, she'll vanish!"

[iris-sistibly]

I carefully zipped my suitcase after packing all of my clothes and other stuff, I double checked my list to make sure I didn’t forget anything, and when I was I was done, I threw myself on the bed and let my eyes scan through the entire room, “I sure am gonna miss this place,” I said to myself, as soon as I said that, anxiety slowly crept over my system. Tomorrow I will be leaving Pyongyang and head to Russia where I’ve decided to fulfill my dreams and finally start a new chapter. It’s not like my first time to go overseas, but at this moment it felt different. I sighed and glanced at my ring, my most treasured memory of him, how long has it been? Three years? I don’t really know, I’ve lost count...or perhaps I just didn’t want to count the days, or I just wanted time to stop just like how my world stopped spinning when I lost him. 

Moments later I heard a knock followed by the sound of the door knob being twisted, “Dan?” my mom entered my room. I got up and met her eyes, “Are you all set?” she asked. I nodded, she smiled and sat next to me, she placed her hand on mine, “You wouldn’t be here for awhile, so I want you to take care of yourself okay?”

“I will mom, you too,” I answered, “And please be extra careful when you go on dates, don’t drink too much.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about me my dates are such gentlemen and not to mention very good-looking as well,” a muffled squeal escaped her mouth, she’s been acting like a teenager lately, she has been so adamant of remarrying eversince she consulted that weird fortune-teller she wouldn’t stop blabbing about. I shook my head, three years ago I was engaged to a man who never reciprocated my feelings yet I was crazy at being so determined of pushing through the marriage, I heard Ri Jeong-hyeok has been discharged at the military and went to Switzerland to pursue a career in music and the woman he truly loves as well, I hope they’re happy. While I on the other hand, after learning to accept and let go have decided to remain unmarried despite of my mother and uncle’s persuasion to find myself a new man, have I become “allergic” with the idea of marriage?

I rolled my eyes at my mother, “Whatever,” I said and stood up, I snatched my coat from the closet and wore it. My mom crossed her brows, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk, I just want some fresh air.”

The chilly breeze immediately brushed onto my skin the moment I stepped out of the house, it was quiet yet I appreciated the solitude, somehow it made me feel at ease, I walked around the neighborhood and as if on cue, memories of the past started playing in my mind. Our first meeting and the second, I thought he was cute but an idiot at the same time, despite of all my efforts to win the heart of my ex-fiance, for some reason I always end up being with him, but I actually didn’t complain, there’s something about this guy that made me trust him. Coincidence or not he was always there, he put up with my antics at trying to make the man I thought I loved fall for me, he was there when I had my heart shattered over and over, he was always there for me and I knew I’ll never be alone. It was never Jeong-hyeok, it has always been him...I just failed to realize and acknowledge it right away. 

I stopped by the nearest park, the sky was full of stars tonight, and it was pleasant to see. Suddenly I saw a shooting star, many people around the world believe that when you see one and make a wish, it will come true. I thought it was ridiculous, yet I found myself closing my eyes, hands clasped together, and wished for a miracle. Well, there’s no harm in trying right? Just this once, I thought, I want to feel his presence.

Moments after, I felt the wind blew gently but it felt different. It felt so...warm, the kind of warmth that was so familiar, I slowly opened my eyes and looked to my side, my eyes went wide, my heart skipped a beat, I don't know why or how, but beside me is the man I’ve been longing to see all these years. I froze in astonishment, is this real? No, this can’t be! I must be dreaming, or hallucinating, there’s no way this could be real...

But does it matter?

“Gu Seung-jun…” I muttered. He didn’t say a word but he smiled at me, his face was so serene, sure he has always been good-looking but I've never seen him so happy, so at peace. He caressed my cheek, my heart was overflowing with joy for the first time in three years.

Right then and there, I was reminded of a very special memory, the night when he gave me my ring. I can never forget the sound of his voice that’s now echoing in my mind, “When I am doing better and if you’re still single, then please give me a chance...I like you Dan, because I like you, I will keep in mind where I am going, I will live that way, I will do that from now on.” 

I’ve been asked so many times why at my age haven’t found a suitable husband, the answer is simple, because I’ve already found the man that I have been looking for, and I intend to keep him in my heart for the rest of my life. He is a bittersweet memory I would never want to forget, and if I would be given a chance, I would go back to the day I met him no matter how painful or tragic our story ended. Because he was the only man who made me feel good about myself, who made me feel loved, who valued me until his last breath.

I still want to give him…us a chance and I will hold on to that no matter what it takes. It may not have happened in this lifetime, but who knows? Maybe in the afterlife, or perhaps in a different timeline and place? One day, someday we’ll be together again. The idea gave me hope, and the fact that I'm seeing him right now is proof that the universe is full of endless possibilities, and I will hold on to that chance. For now, I am contented knowing that he has indeed been better, and for that I am grateful, I on the other hand promised to live my life as best as I could and be happy...always. I finally smiled back at him and said the words I’ve been yearning to tell him all these years, those words I should have told him long ago, “I love you…Gu Seung-jun…” then his image slowly rippled and faded, I was left alone once more, but this time I never felt empty again. 

-

Seo Dan’s Wish by: Iris

Written from Seo Dan’s (duh) point of view

Drama: Crash Landing on You

~Damn, Seo Dan and Seung-jun made me shed buckets of tears. Never thought I would love the 2nd couple but daaaaaamn! They had one of the most unforgettable scenes in the show, Seo Ji Hye and Kim Jung Hyun executed their scenes so well, it’s sad that these two ended their love story in a tragic way. Seo Dan is a badass, she’ll be fine but I still fancy the idea of her and Seung-jun getting the happy ending they both deserve. 

Also, I haven’t written a fanfiction in ages so please bear with me 😂😂

[sunagitsunee]

i like that you're one of the level headed posters i've seen for this chapter. do you think there is still a happy endfor levi? don't you think he has less development than the others?

I am not!!!! I just learned my lessons the hardway from Bleach / Game of Thrones / Star Wars. I do not expect much anymore so instead I just open up possible questions in my mind that I would like an answer to, if that makes sense.

About Levi?

*Breathes*.

My heart hopes for it, but my brain says no. I don't think anyone will have a happy end for SnK, I think they will all d** and have an Eldian/imaginary afterlife as consolation (which is more bitter than sweet), except maybe Reiner or Armin and the baby. There are also these theories about the Akatsuki no Requiem (which has been debunked) but kinda makes sense in the way Eren is building himself up in the recent chapters. Unless Yams subverts our expectations and actually puts out a mildly hopeful end.

And yeah, Yams actually had written Levi to be this invincible character but ever since Erwin's death he has been kinda limited in terms of POV (like how Hange is always written to be haunted by Erwin's legacy that people actually started to underestimate them). I'm pretty sure Levi has these deeply-rooted convictions but left unexplored due to the limit Yams has imposed in himself. It's not that he's undeveloped, he is just brought out of focus from the main story line.

I do hope there would be supplemental novels to supply the missing chunks but for now we would have to make do with what's given to us. With a handful of chapters left, it's kinda hard to put a period in our opinions.

Eitherway, fanfiction is my fallback. You might have to start relying on those too. *wink wonk*

[tvdversefanfiction]

Origins of Magic

“The Originals” Fanfiction Series

Warnings: I do not own the rights to the television series “The Originals”, “Vampire Diaries”, or “Legacies” and do not own any of the characters within the TVD universe, I am making no profit from this and have no intention for this fanfiction series except for readers to enjoy.

15+ Mild to Strong Violence, Strong Language, Witchcraft, sexual scenes, and sexual references.

F/F, F/M, M/M, Other.

CHAPTER THREE HERE

Chapter Four - Between Heaven, Hell, and New Orleans

After a decade living in the afterlife Klaus Mikaelson and his brother Elijah had found a version of peace living together in a dream like version of the Abattoir in New Orleans with their loved ones which included; Camille O’Connell, Hayley Marshall and most surprisingly a grown up version of their youngest sibling Henrik Mikaelson. The option of seeing Henrik as anything but a child was new to both Klaus and Elijah and not only did it please them but it helped lift some of the weight of the guilt Klaus had carried for a thousand years for feeling responsible for his youngest sibling’s death. Noticeably missing through their family reunion after life, with the addition of honoree Mikaelson Hayley and the former psychologist bartender Cami, was the Mikaelson’s treacherous parents Esther and Mikael and their deadly aunt Dahlia, after all this was the brother’s version of heaven not hell. Although Klaus managed to find ways to check up on his daughter he never worried too much about her, knowing she would and eventually did find her way in the world making her prouder than he could ever have imagined being, allowing for him and his brother Elijah to be at peace with their deaths. The only problem is the living were not at peace while the two Mikaelson brothers remained dead leading to a trio of powerful witches casting a wicked spell snatching Klaus and Elijah from their heaven, bypassing hell and returning them to the land of the living, right to the city of New Orleans. “I knew hell was on hold!” Klaus stated as he woke up on the ground within the Lafayette Cemetery, sitting up to see Elijah stood above him, looking equally confused as to how they wound up there. “I am not too sure this is hell Niklaus, in fact if I were to take guess I’d go for, well I would say somebody with a heck of a lot of power just brought us back from the dead.” Elijah replied to his hybrid brother, as Klaus quickly rose to his feet. “Hope,” Klaus uttered, automatically fearing the worst about his daughter. “Hope does not know anything about me and yet I am here!” The now adult Henrik stated, as he appeared from behind a large gravestone. “I do not know what has brought us all back brothers, but I can tell you with certainty it is not Mikaelson magic.” “Actually brothers…” Rebekah announced as she vamp sped her way into the cemetery, confronting all three of her brothers, ready to admit her truth. “It was definitely Mikaelson meddling I just so happened to use a different source of magic to get the deed done.” Klaus, Elijah, and Henrik stood there in shock, surprised by Rebekah’s actions, unsure of why she had brought them back to life, fearing the answer would be far worse than it was. Meanwhile Rebekah turned to face Henrik, instantly feeling a connection with him but having only seen him as a child, not being able to work out his identity. “Who the bloody hell are you?” She asked, not knowing it was her youngest brother all grown up.

As the hours went by and the world around him continued to live Klaus Mikaelson began to slowly realize that there was no going back to the place, he had been for a decade of what he considered bliss. He had grown used to the place he and his brothers Elijah and Henrik had come to think of as a form of heaven and was at peace with himself for the first time ever but now he was back in New Orleans, a place that was once his home had now felt like nothing more than the thing blocking him from a much better fate all because his sister Rebekah Mikaelson missed them too much, something that would have touched Klaus if he was not so furious about it all. “You mean to say that there is literally nothing bloody wrong and yet you pull us back from death to what check in?” Klaus shouted at his sister within the compound, as he, Rebekah, Elijah, and Henrik stood by the empty fountain. “You died with the hollow inside of you how was I supposed to know you were not suffering an eternity in some kind of hell?” Rebekah snapped back at her brother, while Elijah and Henrik decided to just stand there and watch how the fight played out. “You were supposed to move on with your life like everybody else, you spent so long trying to get rid of me and then when you do you stop at nothing to bring me back!” Klaus continued to argue with his sister. “Yes, I for one would like to know how exactly you managed to bring us back and who exactly helped you.” Elijah told Rebekah, somewhat alarmed at the possible measures his sister went to bring them all back. “It was nothing bad Elijah I just called in some favors from old friends and they were more or less happy to oblige.” Rebekah replied, telling a half-truth to Elijah. “Well I for one am glad to have a chance at living once again just keep the werewolves from me this time around.” Henrik chimed in, only to be met by frustrated glances from his siblings, forgetting for a moment his brother Niklaus was a werewolf/vampire hybrid. “So, I admit I was rash and I will more than likely regret this decision sooner rather than later but I just hated the idea of everything moving on….Freya’s got a kid, Davina and Kol too and Klaus…your daughter…she’s getting married…how can you not be here for that?” Rebekah informed Klaus, shocking her brother by the admission his daughter was now engaged. “She’s engaged?” Klaus responded with a soft smile, genuinely happy for his daughter Hope. “Yeah to Caroline’s daughter…I guess Hope is better at getting the girl than you brother.” Rebekah teased him. “So, we are back here for a wedding? Seriously Rebekah I have come to expect this carelessness from Kol and Niklaus, but I thought better of you!” Elijah complained to his sister. “Also, if this is your logic why not bring back Hayley as well as us?” “Trust me I was all up for resurrecting every single person I ever lost but it was hard enough sale for the two of you.” Rebekah answered Elijah, before turning to Henrik. “Not sure how you wound up alive again and all grown up…that is giving me a headache trying to work out.” “If you did not rope my daughter into this ressurection party of yours just which old friends did you persuade or threaten?” Klaus wondered. “Please tell me it was not Bonnie Bennet she has already stopped my death once before and was quite honestly very righteous about it.” “The kind of magic which would resurrect two original vampires and possibly the hollow would have to be that of a great darkness, a Black magic darker than even our aunt Dahlia’s.” Elijah suggested, as he began realizing the truth. “Oh, Rebekah please tell me our lives are not owed to any of them….”

Although Rebekah was under the illusion the ressurection spell had worked perfectly with the delightful addition of her youngest brother Henrik, Annabella knew better in fact Henrik coming back was not the only thing that went awry with the spell that Bella, Kayne and Rose had cast, in fact as the Black siblings were about to realize very quickly the spell they had done together had caused all kinds of chaos with more awaiting not only them but the Mikaelson’s too. “I cannot believe we did not get the hollow one of you witches must have done something wrong!” Rose accused her siblings, as Rose, Kayne and Bella walked into a luxurious hotel room within New Orleans. “Who is to say you did not mess up? I mean you are hardly the wonder witch of the family!” Kayne snapped back at his sister. “Not gaining the power of the hollow are the last of our worries, I fear something is wrong, I can feel it in my bones I just cannot get my head around what.” Bella warned her siblings, eager to determine the extent of the damage from the spell the three of them cast. “You worry too much Annabella,” Kayne responded, dismissing his older sister’s worries. “The only thing we messed up on was bringing back the Mikaelson’s and getting nothing out of it!” “Speak for yourself Kayne, I for one struck a deal with Rebekah from the very beginning I may not have the hollow, but I am sticking around here until I get something else, I want.” Rose revealed to them both. “Of course, I first have to work out something that is really going to make Rebekah’s life a living hell.” “So, you had a back up plan all this time?” Kayne furiously shouted at Rose. “Guess I am fool for thinking you actually cared for either of us…you have not changed one bit!” “Oh, please you already said yes the minute Rebekah asked anything for the man who would rather be dead then be anywhere near you!” Rose cruelly taunted her brother, before turning to Bella. “And you…what do you get now that Rebekah’s got her use out of you? Yeah, that is right you will go back to hiding from the rest of the world.” “Can we please just stop attacking each other for one second so we can work out the amount of damage we have caused with that god damn spell?” Bella shouted, eager to get her siblings to stop fighting with each other and her. Suddenly, the sound of a loud knocking noise coming from their hotel door had stopped the three siblings in mid fight as they looked among themselves trying to figure out who would be knocking on the door; Bella fearing it would be a newly revived Elijah issuing an polite warning about leaving New Orleans, Kayne fearing he would be reunited with Klaus and Rose hoping it was anyone or anything that would get her away from her family. “I guess I will get it then,” Rose said as she walked over to the hotel room door. “Honestly, you would think neither of you were all powerful witches…” As Rose swung the door open neither her, Kayne or Bella could prepare themselves for who stood in their doorway ready to greet the bewitching siblings. “So, you are the witches who have went and screwed up death!” Katherine Pierce greeted the three siblings as she stood within their doorway, Bella instantly realizing in that moment they had brought back more than just Klaus and Elijah. “I just wanted to say thanks for old time’s sake before I get the hell out of this city…which if I were you guys I would do the exact same before Klaus gets pissed and decides to kill the lot of you!” “Katerina Petrova?” Bella managed to say, while still in shock from Katherine’s arrival. “How exactly did we screw up death?” A clueless Kayne asked the female vampire. “Wow, you did not even mean to do it did use?” Katherine laughed at them. “In that case I’d highly advise getting the hell out of here before Mikael arrives…. oh well I’ve done my good deed for the century…it was good seeing you again Annabella.” Before Bella could muster up anymore words and before Kayne had any chance to ask Katherine any questions about her claim about him and his sisters screwing up death, Katherine Pierce had already vamp sped out of sight all too eager to get as far away from the chaos that was most definitely about to follow. “I guess you were right Annabella,” Rose said as she turned to face her sister. “Just one question in what way did we just screw up death?” “In a really bad way…” Kayne said with a look on horror on his face, which caught his sisters’ attention as they turned to look at what he was staring blankly at, only to see their brother Magnus Black was now stood in the doorway.

[folklorestorytime]

Jesus Laughs in the Face of Death

After Jesus was crucified, he was buried in a tomb by Joseph of Arimathea before rising from the dead on the third day – we all know this. However, what most of you might not know is that the Book of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ by St. Bartholomew the Apostle (one of the Christian Apocrypha) contains a bizarre and undeniably epic story about the events that took place in the afterlife in the two days during which the Son of God was dead. This is the story of how Jesus fought with Death and his six serpent sons, destroyed the Original Sin and unleashed unspeakable tortures upon Judas Iscariot. Suffice to say, none of this is Biblical canon unfortunately. It’s just a really bizarre theological footnote of Bible fanfiction. Before we begin, I would like to briefly rant about someone named Apa Anania. According to the Apocrypha in question, he was a holy man who was taken up into Heaven with Jesus when he ascended on the third day. This character wasn’t referred to in any previous writings and was never mentioned after he was taken up into Heaven. Basically, we have no idea who Anania was – but apparently, he was important enough to be taken up with Jesus. Right, okay so now that I’ve finished bitching about forgotten characters in Christian theology – lets get on with the story. Are you sitting comfortably?

Joseph of Arimathea, stricken with grief, laid the body of the Messiah in His rocky tomb – but while this was going on in the mortal world, Death was visiting Amente (the Coptic equivalent of Purgatory) to inquire as to what had happened to the soul of Christ. He had apparently been searching for said soul for two days and was greatly troubled by his inability to find it. There had been unheard-of trouble when Christ’s soul left his body after the crucifixion, and Death felt that he had to find the errant soul presumably so that it couldn’t cause any more commotion. He called his various companions to him and commanded them to go and visit Christ’s tomb in the hope that His soul might have concealed itself close to his body. Among his companions were his six sons – Gaios, Tryphon, Ophiath, Phthinon, Sotomis and Komphion, left Amente and went to the tomb. However, this deathly entourage was shocked to find that the tomb was now marked with the ‘light of life’ when they visited it. They all sat down behind the tomb and took counsel as to how they should proceed. Eventually Death’s six children concluded that they would wait with the body to hopefully track the Lord’s soul when it went down into Amente so that they could see how he acted when faced with the afterlife. They assumed the forms of serpents and slithered into the tomb – and were immediately confronted with the sight of Jesus’s body lying there in the back of the tomb, with one cloth around his head and another around his face.

Meanwhile, Death was talking to an ominously named figure known as the Pestilence Fiend, who apparently had an overseeing role in the affairs of Amente. Death asked the Fiend if the soul of Christ had been registered as having arrived in Amente, and described to said Fiend the causation for his great concern over the whereabouts of this most powerful of souls. When Christ had died, the pillars of Heaven had trembled, Amente had rocked and quaked, the air was whipped up into a state of disturbance, and the cycles of day and night and the orders of the hours had been thrown into chaos. The fires of Hell had been extinguished and Gehenna (the location according to the Hebrew Bible where the Kings of Judah had sacrificed their children by fire) had gone cold. The gates of Hell had been battered open and their guards had fled, leaving the innumerable servants and ministers and envoys of the damned with nothing to do. The fallen angels had all been scattered and Death’s power had apparently passed into new hands after he himself was destroyed by the power of Christ.

And so, Death was now back with his six sons in the tomb of Jesus. He nervously approached the body of the Saviour and admitted to him (who was still choosing to appear in the form of His dead body) that he had been deeply disturbed by what had happened after his death. While he was saying this, Jesus promptly removed the cloths from his face and looked straight at Death before laughing at him. Utterly terrified, Death ran from the chamber and fell to the ground with his six serpentine sons.

Eventually he regained his senses and got up, once again making his way towards Christ while literally shaking with fear. Jesus once again laughed at him, but this time Death was able to muster the courage to stay and stand before the Son of God. He repeated the question he had previously asked – ‘Who art thou?’ – and judging from the description of the events he once again got no answer. He was left there alone in the tomb to contemplate the situation, eventually coming to the realisation that he might be in the presence of the ‘Good God, Merciful and Compassionate’. However, he still refused to believe that Christ was not obliged to answer him. He stood his ground and started to speak.

Who art thou that laughest? I ask, I speak. Tell me, why dost thou refuse to answer? Thou humblest me, thou makest a mock of me. I will never leave thee, but will cleave unto thee until thou showest me who thou art. I am all-powerful, my power is invincible, thou canst not deceive me.

It seemed that Death did not realise that he was talking to the Lord of All, and in what can only be described as a cosmically epic power move, Jesus went up into Heaven and fetched an army of all the different classes in the hierarchy of angels. The Angels, Archangels, Cherubim, Seraphim, the Four and Twenty Elders (??) and the Powers all stood by the tomb, presumably trapping Death. While Death was unable to act, Jesus descended to Amente and broke open the doors which had been locked in his face, and overturned the cauldrons of flame and put out the vast fields of fire. He swept everything and every soul out of Amente and left it as a barren desert. He bound mysterious figures known as the Shameless Ones and the Ministers of Satan, and fettered a demon named Melkhir with iron chains. In this bizarre campaign across the Coptic cosmology, he also took the time to redeem Adam and deliver man. He set all of Creation free and healed the wounds inflicted by Satan. He also went to Judas Iscariot – and in a decidedly unexpected move for someone famous for his forgiveness – demanded to know why he had betrayed him before declaring that he should now suffer ‘twofold woes’. Judas is also labelled as being the son of the Devil in an alternate version of this passage, and there is an entire page in the document which describes the horrendous tortures inflicted upon Judas. His mouth was filled with thirty serpents embodying every mortal vice, and they destroyed him completely. He was then cast out into the ‘outer darkness’ where ‘utter oblivion shall cover him for ever’ and ‘none shall enquire concerning him’.

Lets just let all that sink in for a bit.

Okay, so now our narrative moves to the third day of Jesus’s temporary death. He rose from the dead and of course left Death now unable to see his body in the tomb. Panicking, Death told the Pestilence Fiend (now referred to as the Pestilence God) to go down into Amente and secure it to keep himself safe until he could track down the missing body of Christ. Death confessed to the Pestilence Fiend that neither he nor his sixfold slithering spawn could overcome it, whether or not it really was the Son of God – of which he was still apparently doubtful. Death followed the Pestilence Fiend down into Amente but was shocked to discover what Jesus had done to the place. The gates had been destroyed, all the fires and their cauldrons lay extinguished and cold, three voices cried out in agony and suffering, and the Worm ‘which never sleeps’ lay among the carnage as well. Death and his sons examined the devastation wrought upon their domain while the angels sung hymns like the Seraphim would over the Offering of the Eucharist on the Lord’s Day.

On the day of the resurrection, a large group of women whose lives had been somehow touched by Jesus (the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene were among them, as well as the unnamed woman forgiven by God in Luke 7:47) congregated outside the tomb of Christ. They stood in the garden of Philogenes (a character introduced in this Apocrypha and then seemingly not mentioned again) who had been responsible for spurring the Jewish people into building another tomb for Jesus for some unexplained reason and he told them about how he had seen the entirety of the angelic host in his garden the previous night. While watching the angelic host in what one can only assume was stunned silence, he witnessed God the Father appear from his tabernacle and raise his Son from the dead. Philogenes therefore witnessed the Resurrection as it was happening.

The narrative then drifts off into describing in epic detail the Resurrection of Christ and how his light covered the entire world with his indomitable angelic host. Jesus then ascends into Heaven and the Apostles follow suite after a further revelation on the Mount of Olives. This story is extremely confusing and convoluted, and it is difficult to tell if the document is meant to contain one coherent narrative or if it simply contains a collection of interesting stories loosely strung together. The first few pages of the original document are unfortunately missing, and the text itself was apparently not in a good condition. It is quite possible that vital information pertaining to the identities of some of the bizarre figures mentioned in the document has been lost. I have done my best to present the story surrounding Jesus decimating Amente and forgiving the Original Sin – the latter of these actions is so insane in the context of Christian belief that it is hard to believe that this document, once again allegedly written by St. Bartholomew the Apostle, hasn’t gotten more attention.

Further Reading:

The Coptic Apocrypha in the Dialect of Upper Egypt by EA Wallis Budge (Original Source)

Analysis from BibleGateway

[fairywithajetblackheart]

Secret Valentine Gift

[In which Virgo tries to write]

This is for the amazing Karioo @lucielhyung I hope you’ll enjoy my first ever attempt to complete and post a nalu fanfiction. 

[personally I think it’s trash sorry T-T]

Title: Bonded

Somewhere over an uncharted land on Mount Olympus, heavily guarded by a myriad of thunderstorms and a blanket of mist lies the home of the three white robed incarnations of destiny.

The Moirai or more commonly known among men as the Fates sat in the middle of their loom and gazed with wonder at the carefully interwoven threads of life.

These colorful threads represent the lives of mortals and immortals alike. There are long and short, dull and brightly colored strands which depend on how a being lives his/her life; whether it be healthy or toxic; in happiness or melancholy – it is depicted by the appearance of the thread. The living are those threads that are still connected to a spool. Their lives ascertained by the Alloter, Lachesis until such time that the shears of Atropos, the inexorable, cuts the thread meaning death.

Clotho, the Spinner, holds a new spool of red black thread on her palm and prepares to spin it. “The Dragon and the Princess”, she remarked.

“Dragons have mates, what makes this exceptional my dear sister?” Lachesis asked. Atropos hums in agreement.

Clotho runs her fingers delicately on the spun red black thread and hands it over to Lachesis. “Let us bond the demon dragon’s thread to the angel princess of the stars,” Clotho answers while beginning to spin the white gold thread.

Both Lachesis and Atropos gasped in excitement. Truly this is an astonishing event. Lachesis hangs the bright red black thread in the corner after measuring the allotted length while waiting for Clotho to finish spinning.

The three sisters then began to do what they do best; creating a magnificent pattern that to this day, they deemed to be their best masterpiece yet. The room was filled with energies of exhilaration, hope and completeness.

After they were finished, Clotho took the pattern and placed it on their viewing table for them to scrutinize. Destiny has now been set and they all look forward to how the two beings will pan out. Will they submit to whatever lies before them or will they try to fight it? Will they be stubborn to stay away from each other or will they come together as one? Will they be a blessing or a curse?

The Fates sat in wonder and varying degrees of trepidation. Yes, they may be the ones who prepared the groundwork of life but on how beings live their own lives, the choices they make on the long run and how they grow and nurture their spirits are all up to them. The Moirai will not interfere on those matters once the destiny has been fixed.

“May the light that tomorrow brings not only casts the darkness that looms over the present away but will also let light and dark to coexist side by side,” the Fates chanted. ‘The Beginning of the End’.

Year x704, in the Kingdom of Φωτιά (Fotiά), land of the Dragon Protectors of Fire

It was a quiet and sunny morning in the palace of the King of the Fire Dragons. Igneel Dragneel, the Valiant who was deep in his thoughts stared into the vast pastures from atop his perch on the railing of his balcony, his bright red hair blown by the wind until he was brought out of his musings by a shout.

“O vasiliάs mou! My King! Lady Grandeeney implores your presence in the infirmary immediately,” the maid announced upon bowing before the Fire Dragon King.

“Has the Queen given birth already? How is the baby? How are they both?” Igneel asked as he stood to acknowledge the girl.

“I’m afraid I bear no news about them, my Lord. I went in haste to search for you after Lady Grandeeney stressed the urgency at hand.”

Igneel scratches his chin in thought. What could possibly be the matter? Until he decided that nothing can be gained by just standing there and speculating so after giving his thanks to the maid, he went on his way.

His heavy footsteps echoed across the grand hallway, disturbing the stillness in the air. Portraits of generations of his ancestors on the walls all of which seem to stare at him creepily. Most of the servants are either on the west wing, where the infirmary was located or busy tending to the plants in the royal garden and the stables. He was feeling a mixture of emotions at that time; anticipation and anxiety both trying to win over the other right until he arrived at the corner going to the infirmary where he found his sister, Grandeeney shakingly wringing her hands in front of her while staring at nothing in particular. His anxiety spiked at the sight.

“Deeney, what seems to be the matter? Why do you look so pale as if you saw a ghost? How is the Queen and the newborn prince?” Igneel asked after taking her hands and grips them gently.

“My Lord, I do not know where to begin –“

“Deeney, how many times must I tell you to call me by my name instead of that title? Better yet, to just call me onii-chan?”

At his remark, Grandeeney smiled even though it didn’t reach her eyes and eased up her tense shoulders.

“Iggy, you know I can’t call you onii-chan anymore. We are way past that age,” she began. “But that’s not important right now. The Demon Dragon Prince is born healthy but I’m distressed to say that the Queen died after giving birth to him.” Her tears falling once more after she broke the news to her brother.

Igneel was dumbfounded. The Demon Queen has passed on to the afterlife right after bringing her second son to this world. Two traitorous tears fell from his eyes as he felt grief for the children left behind. And yet with the overbearing sorrow, wisps of a feeling of contentment tries to settle within him. He knows that now his good friend and brother Etherious was not alone anymore.

Etherious, the Demon King and Igneel go way back. They grow up together, trained to become warriors and kings and won all their battles together. They both fell inlove with the same woman. Even when she chose Etherious over him, he can never feel anger or envy because he loved them both.

Etherious fell sick to a mysterious illness months past, leaving his pregnant wife and his first born who at that time was away for scholastics. Igneel took them in and cared for them. Zeref came back for his father’s funeral but not once did he saw him cry. He was worried so he went to visit his chambers after the funeral pyre and was relieved to hear the anguish sobs coming from the ever stoic child. Oh no, how will he break this news to him? There is no question on adopting the brothers and making them his heirs. They are his family and he will never abandon –

“-gy. Iggy!”

He was brought back to the present by his sister’s strong hold on him. He didn’t realize he was shaking already. “You’re already a great father to them. There’s nothing to worry.” Grandeeney affirms.

He can only manage a nod and slowly breaks free from her to enter the room. He saw Porlyusica about to cover her body but one look from him and she nodded and left. He approached the bed and took the Demon Queen’s hand in his own and vowed to look after the children. He won’t disappoint Etherious and her. He kissed her forehead and left the room.

Grandeeney was still waiting for him outside and he had the impression that she still has something left to say. He doesn’t know what to feel so he went to her side and waited for her to open up.

“About the second prince, he has a strange mark on the back of his right hand. It is a mark of a star and this kind of mark has never been seen in our kind before,” she announces.

Igneel raised an eyebrow at that. The Moirai must have something planned but trying to figure it out would be a conundrum.

“Where is he by the way? I want to meet him,” he inquired.

“The baby is resting in the next room,” Porlyusica responded right next to him. Igneel tried to not let it show how startled he was at the sudden appearance of the witch but apparently he failed ‘coz he can see his sister trying to hide her snickering.

The three of them went to the adjacent room and he opened the door as quietly as he could. The room was painted white just as how infirmary rooms are painted and in the middle of the room, there was a large crib where the babe is resting.

Igneel studied the baby and his mark. He had this gut feeling that this boy would play an important role in the future together with his fated one. He then decided on a new name for his son.

“His name will be Etherious Natsu Dragneel. The demon dragon prince and heir to my throne. I will train him in the arts of the Fire Dragon Magic and Dragon Slayer magic. He may have two dragon magic within him but I trust that he can wield both. He will surpass me and his father when the time comes,” Igneel Dragneel declared.

*******

Same day in the year x704, in the far away Kingdom of αστέρι (Astéri), land blessed by the Stars

“Her name will be Lucy Heartfilia. The angel princess of the stars and the celestial mage of the Twelve Zodiac Keys,” Queen Layla Heartfilia stated to those surrounding her in the room, eager to catch a glimpse of the newborn princess. All those present clapped for joy and congratulated the royal parents.

King Jude Heartfilia, who stayed by his wife’s side all throughout her labor stared with wonder at his daughter’s face and traced the peculiar mark of a black dragon on the back of her right hand. Both he and Layla wondered what could be in store for their little angel’s future while the stars above rejoiced with the birth of the new angel.

 *******

Year x709, in μυστήριο (mystírio) garden, midday

Natsu Dragneel escaped the watchful eyes of his guardian and went off in an adventure into the wild. He doesn’t know what this forest is called nor what secrets does it keep but that’s what excites him the most – to see and discover new things.

All around him are tall trees with branches that seem too close to the next that provide a great shade from the sun. The air around him is fresh with the occasional noises from the small animals running here and there.

He can hear the burble of the flowing stream ahead, and smell the fragrance of the flowers not far from him. He was on his way to the river to catch fish when his ears catch the sound of someone sniffling by the flower field. He was about to just ignore the sound when something in his gut told him that he shouldn’t turn his back from the one who was crying.

Mind made up, he went to the flower field and spotted a blonde girl, who was the same age as he is, trying to wipe her tears.

He approached her slowly, afraid to make her more scared than she already is. He plucked a sunflower on his way and offered it to the girl. “Heya, don’t be scared. You’re not alone anymore,” Natsu whispered.

The girl, looked up and saw the sunflower from the strange dragon boy with pink hair. She accepted the flower and smiled. “Thank you. My name is Lucy and I am lost. What is your name, Mister Dragon?”

Natsu fully grinned, showing his pearly sharp fangs but strangely, Lucy is not afraid of him. She feels safer with him compared to before when she was all alone in the field.

“My name is Natsu. Nice to meet you Lucy”

He offers her his hand to shake and when she took it, there was a weird electricity like zap that suddenly went off the moment their hands touched and they can feel their marks start to tingle. At that time, they didn’t think much about it. Lucy went with Natsu to help him catch fishes and played around in the water.

They had so much fun playing together that they almost forgot about going home. When they sky started to glow an orange hue, Natsu decided to ask Lucy where she lives so he can accompany her home. Lucy hugged him in joy after he asked that, earning her a “weirdo” comment from Natsu – which started their bickering and tickle fight.

When they calmed down, Lucy told him where her kingdom was and so knowing where it was (Igneel made it sure that he was educated regarding places) Natsu unfurled his wings and hugged Lucy to his chest. They flew into the night until they arrived at the castle gates where hundreds of guards are about to be deployed and the Twelve Zodiacs conversing with the Queen before them.

“Mama, I’m home!” Lucy shouted from Natsu’s arms. “Meet Natsu, he’s my friend!”

That night there was a feast in the palace for the safe return of the princess by the courageous dragon friend. Layla Heartfilia sent a message to King Igneel via the stars regarding the bravery of his son and a promise to visit his kingdom. Natsu stayed with the Heartifilias because it was very late to go back home (and not because he wanted to play more with Lucy, Pops!)

Over the years, Natsu and Lucy grew closer together as they grow older. They take turns in having sleepovers until such time that Natsu realized his dragon instincts are telling him to protect Lucy at all costs, not only because he loves her but also because she is his mate and bonded.

Natsu admitted his feelings for Lucy under the rainbow sakura tree that he uprooted one time for Lucy when she was sick and cannot see the flowers in bloom while they were both sitting under it, with his head on Lucy’s lap talking about nothing and everything.

“I love you too, Natsu. More than you’ll ever know.” Lucy replied while running her fingers through his pink hair.

Natsu rose up in a sitting position and moved his head closer to Lucy’s. He stared into her chocolate orbs and he can see the same feelings – maybe even more reflected in them.

And when kissed her, it was like never they had experienced before and at the same time everything.

It was more than sparks, like a crackling fire that just started to blaze up. Their marks tingled.

And when they moved their faces away for a breath’s space, they were both blushing and smiling.

Their magics sang together in their presence. Light and dark coexisting side by side.

 From afar, Acnologia the Chaos Dragon watched the two lovers. He wanted their combined magic for himself and so he devised a plan.

*****

That same day, Cana Alberona, Lucy’s confidant and Reader of cards, noticed a change in the cards and went straight away to Mavis Vermillion, the Strategist to tell her of Acnologia’s greedy plans and what they must do to protect the Bonded. Together, they informed Queen Layla and King Igneel. Although it greatly saddens the parents to separate the Bonded just after they both admitted their feelings, their lives are more important and their combined magic must never be placed on the wrong hands.

With a heavy heart, they told the couple of what must happen – that they should stay apart for a while and to live in a parallel world where magic does not exist. In that world, Acnologia cannot fulfill his dark plans plus they can still find each other there just don’t stop believing in the bond that they have.

As Queen Lucy and King Igneel leave the room for the two to talk, Lucy sank to the floor and cried.

“I don’t want to part from you Natsu, even just for a little while. What if we won’t meet again there? Is there really a guarantee that this Acnologia can’t take our combined magic there? What if you’ll find someone else the—“

Natsu kissed Lucy at that point. He figured this is the most effective way to stop her ramblings and damn he was right.

“Lucy, I love you. We can go through this together. We are strong individually but together? Our enemies doesn’t stand a chance. Have faith in us.” Natsu said as he placed his forehead to Lucy’s.

Lucy laughed. Of course. Natsu is right. She hugged him and said, “I love you too”

 *******

When the time for them to separate and go to the other world, they hugged and cried for the last time. The two portals are opened and as they step into the dark abyss, they turned back around and reached their right arms out, hoping that one might pull the other into the same door. As their fingers were about to touch, they were suddenly whisked away and the portals closed.

Queen Lucy cried into her husband’s shoulder, already missing her daughter. That night the stars did not shine.

King Igneel and Zeref spent that time reminiscing their times with Natsu. They were looking forward to the duo to defeat Acnologia in the other world so that they can finally go back to the happy times.

 “We will meet again. I’ll make sure of it, my love”

“Juvia! I told you it’s your turn to clean the windows yesterday right? Why is it still dirty?” Lucy turned to her blue-haired roommate as she gripped the wash cloth on her right hand.

“I’m so sorry Lu. I got afraid seeing how high we are from the ground.” Juvia replied in a quiet voice.

Lucy sighed. She can’t find it in her to be angry at her best friend because it’s not even her fault.

“It’s alright. I’ll clean it now,” Lucy stated as she turned around and started to wipe with her right hand, the black dragon mark on her hand shining vibrantly under the light. Seeing the mark, she was transported back to her dreams before of being an angel princess and a celestial mage of the stars, having a Queen for a Mother and meeting her bonded. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice her upper body has already strayed off to the far parts of the window until she slipped and the next thing she knows is falling and screaming into the ground below.

Is this the end?

She expected to meet hard ground but warm arms caught her and enveloped her in a hug as they both fell, gasps falling out of her and her savior’s mouths.

I got you. We finally meet again.

She opened her eyes and saw the unusual pink hair of her catcher. Strange but he can definitely pull it off. She noticed he has a star mark on the back of his right hand as he combed his fingers thru his hair.

And when their eyes meet, they were both stricken by a sense of de ja vu and completeness.

They both smiled because finally everything feels right once more. 

...........................................

“It’s always more fun when we’re together”

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

[ficsforfangirls]

Favorite Fanfiction (That I’ve Written)

A Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.I’m going to link some of my favorite fanfiction - that I’ve written. I’ve decided to link my Top 10 Faves out of a total of 108 fanfiction stories between my Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own profiles. I do have some stories that are on both platforms, but there are plenty of stories that are exclusive to either website. Not all of my work on there is perfect, I’ve not always edited my work and I’ve been doing this for 12 years (though I think the oldest work I’ve left posted is from 2011). As I’ve gotten older, the work quality has improved, but that being said - this list is going to be the stories I’m most proud of and felt the happiest with when I was finished writing them.

So I’ll tag the story, include the fandom and the summary below the linked title. These are in no particular order. I will also have a small, bolded explanation why each story has made it onto this list. 1. A Hazard to Myself

(Harry Potter, Post-War)

This song!fic inspired by "Don't Let Me Get Me" by P!NK showcases Draco Malfoy reflecting with and talking to his psychiatrist - because he's not handling life after the war very well. TW: Mentions of alcohol abuse and self-harm, only in passing with absolutely no details of those acts.

This piece is one of those stories where the ending line was so powerful to me, and that song meant so much to me growing up, that I can’t ever read it without getting chills. Perhaps it could have been written better with fewer constraints, but the impact of it doesn’t change for me. This story always moves me every time I revisit it.

2. Dear Reader

(Harry Potter, Golden Era)

(5th Year - Assumed/Slight AU) Hermione decides the Hogwarts Library needs a piece of Muggle literature. Even though she doesn't expect anyone to find it, let alone respond to it, she is surprised when it is sent back to her within a couple of days – and with a letter, wouldn't you believe it? {rated based on future chapters}

This was the first wildly popular story I’d done in my fanfiction career. I even entered it into a contest to have it published after reworking it as an original piece. However, I was naive at the time and I didn’t edit it enough to get the votes. Still, it remains one of my favorites because I took something I loved from two different stories and made it my own so much so that it was wildly well received. I will always be proud of what I accomplished with this story.

3. Forever & Always, Clara

(Doctor Who, 12th Doctor)

This piece is a letter written to the Doctor as a means for Clara to say a proper and final farewell to the man who has so radically defined her life.

This was just a personal piece. I didn’t write it for any particular reason other than I was inspired to do so. I loved these characters together and by themselves separately. Losing them on the show was difficult and I wanted a more solid closure. I wrote this entirely for myself but I felt that, despite the distinct lack of popularity, it was still a good piece all together.

4. I Don’t F-cking Care

(Carry On)

This fanfiction depicts the struggles that Simon Snow and Baz Grimm-Pitch experience in their relationship that starts with them being enemies, how their timing is never quite right, and big life changes that force them to reassess what truly matters when it comes to their love for each other. ! Please review disclaimer thoroughly prior to reading this piece to avoid triggers !

Thanks to my good friend @ouranose - I got into the Carry On fandom. I had already read Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, so it wouldn’t have been long before I got into it on my own, but she jumpstarted the process. It’s been a great time, of course, and one of my comfort fandoms now. What I really enjoyed about this one was that it was dark and imperfect and realistic and true to the blurry nature of their relationship. It’s one of the longest one-shot pieces I’ve ever written, and for that reason alone, on of those stories I’ll never forget. I put a lot of work into it and I think it shows.

5. Library Kisses

(Harry Potter, Golden Era)

This story details the romance of Hermione and Harry after a late night kiss through the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione, Harry and Ron learn about each other and evolve as couples and friends along the way. Rated T, but may contain some M chapters.

Yikes? I shouldn’t start this by saying ‘yikes’ about the story. I wrote this many years ago, when I was very young (18 years old, just out of high school). I had a child in high school and drew heavily on the experience of being an intelligent woman who made a mistake and incorporated that into this story. It diverts from the canon quite a bit, but with this being the oldest story I’ve written available online, I think it shows that I’ve always had the skill and the drive to pursue writing as career opportunity. I love to do this, and despite my many pitfalls as an 18-year-old writer, this story has 73,368 views anyway. It is still, to this day, my third most popular story on Fanfiction.net and I’m okay with that because we should always be proud of where we started.

6. Little Talks

(Merlin, BBC)

This fic follows Merlin and Morgana from the first day they begin to fall in love until their first day together in the afterlife. Based off of the song by Of Monsters and Men. Rated T For - Brief death scene, suggestive adult themes.

Hands down, this has got to be favorite fanfiction piece that I’ve ever written. I was trying to do a lot with this story, and I think I was successful in most every front, though I wish I had edited it better at the time. It started out as a passion project and ended up being a comfort one. I hated the way Merlin ended and felt that I could write a better story - which wasn’t the first time I had ever felt that way, but the first time I ever executed those emotions to do something. It’s not my most popular piece, having written this towards the end of the Merlin fandom’s lifespan, but it doest rank among the top 10 pieces with the most traffic. I felt very connected to the song, the show, and the outline of this story. It’s also the first piece of fanfiction my husband ever read and felt was done better than the show (which is hard to do because he’s a canon-only-verse kind of guy). I’ll never not love this story.

7. Just One Yesterday

(Supernatural)

I've been hiding from him. I don't even think of him by name. I miss him but now that I'm a monster I don't think I can ever be close to him again. I am so afraid of the consequences of implicating him any further... But I just can't stop being there for him... I need him... {T for moderate violence; regular swearing; major character death}

This is yet another passion piece. I had outlined it during my lunch breaks at work, or when I was waiting for X, Y, or Z to finish loading on the computer. Am I proud to have done this is stolen moments? Not really. But the outcome is an emotional piece that I think really captured how I’ve always felt about the ship (Destiel). The stats for this piece are abysmal, but that means nothing to me because I felt awesome about the story I was telling.

8. In The Summer...

(Percy Jackson, Heroes of Olympus)

The seasons used to mean something very different to Nico, but those days are gone. And he wants Percy Jackson to know that he's moved on.

This is a poem that I wasn’t even meant to write. I had asked a friend to write it (That’s @ouranose again because she’s pretty much the only friend I’ve got). But in the end, she lost the lines she had crafted for it, I think, and it fell off the metaphorical production board. When we started this PJO/HOO series of poems, I took on the task instead because I loved the idea of it so much. I did much better than I expected, having never written anything substantial for PJO/HOO before, and for that reason I’ll always be proud of the way I show the changing of feelings towards someone that you used to love.

9. Make Memories

(Girl Meets World)

Excerpt/Summary: Shawn and Katy decide that Maya should make memories before her senior year of high school. They decide to send her to a camp out of state for six weeks so that she can experience life that is different from the city.

Lucas decides that it's time to do something for himself. After seeing an article about a six week camp out of state he decides to register and take a chance.

Unfortunately, Maya finds herself shacking up with an all-too familiar face after a transcription error by the receptionist of the camp.

“They thought your name was Luna?” Maya questions.

Goodness, where do I even start? After I had my son, I found a book a few years afterward and it was about a pregnant teenager who has to make the decision to have a baby or have an abortion. There’s so much more to the book and I loved reading it, but I drew from that story a bit to craft this Girl Meets World piece that allowed me to really be original more than most any other piece I’ve ever done. It is popular enough for a dead fandom, still getting more views and kudos every week at a slow rate. I was just proud that I could take elements from both of these shows that I loved and craft a romance that was focused on the emotional aspect of loving someone without making it too sexualized.

10. An Untitled Tomco

(Star vs. The Forces of Evil)

A Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.

I have never watched a single episode of Star vs. The Forces of Evil. Someone made a request for me to write it and I researched the characters and the ship. I wanted to craft this believable story seamlessly, as if I had seen it and knew all there was to know. And, by some miracle, it worked! This is one of the most popular stories on my Archive of Our Own despite not having been there nearly as long as the three others that surpass it’s viewership. I felt that I had done very good work and made the most of the research that I had done to craft this story. It’s one of those experiences that reminded me that I’m more than capable as a writer and that I can do anything when I’ve set myself to it.

[samyelbanette]

No Rest For The Wicked: A Thiefshipping Oneshot

So, all the way back in winter 2017, I signed up for @sitabethel‘s Thiefshipping Dirty Santa fanfiction-writing event. And then I promptly forgot about the whole thing, until today, when they reminded me about it. -_- I’m dumb as hell. So, it’s months late, but here’s the fic I wrote for the event!

The prompt I was given was “I’ll let you know all my flaws now, so you could love me better or leave me quicker.” 

The flash of white, amongst all the dark hair and skin of the people of Cairo, caught Marik's eye immediately. 

It was strange to be back in Egypt, after all the time he'd spent travelling the world with Rishid as the leader of the Ghouls. Running from the past, he admitted to himself. That was over now - after the tumultous events in Domino City, Japan, he'd resolved his grudge against the Pharoah, and accepted his role as a Tombkeeper. The Pharaoh - and his vessel, Mutou, should be coming to Egypt soon, Marik considered.  Ishizu foretells that the Ceremonial Duel will soon occur. 

After the Pharoah moved on to the afterlife, what would become of the Ishtars? Marik's clan had been waiting to assist the Pharoah in his journey for thousands of years. Once his destiny was fulfilled - then what? Where did that leave them?

It leaves us to lead normal lives, finally, Rishid had said, earlier today. He seemed to be looking forward to it. Marik wasn't so sure. It wasn't easy to spend years despising a man and plotting to kill him, committing acts of thievery and violence at the head of a criminal gang, and then turn around and be....normal. 

Marik was walking through a quaint open air market - the same one he'd stumbled through as a child, on his first day on the surface world. He still remembered how strange but beautiful it had felt, to feel the sun on his face and the sand under his feet, to see and hear so many people, when he was used to only seeing his family, and the darkness of the tomb. Now a grown man, he had seen many sights more splendid than this. But, his eyes still misted when he thought of how Ishizu had snuck him out, that first time. 

She was always a good sister, he thought to himself. And how did I repay her? By running away, and threatening to do her harm if she pursued me. I have much to atone for. 

He had done harm to young Yugi Mutou's friends, as well. He had kidnapped them, and seized control of their minds. They would surely accompany the Pharoah when he came to Egypt to fulfill his destiny. He could not blame them if they looked at him with eyes of hate. 

He was thinking of all he'd done while in Japan....the games he had played, the  people he had hurt, and the one man, that he had loved. And then suddenly he was there.

That long, white hair. The clearly Japanese features of his host, when everyone else in the crowd was Middle Eastern or African. That beaten up black coat that he always wore. 

"Bakura!" Marik cried, and tore off running, after the man. They'd been allies in Battle City, plotting together to defeat the Pharaoh. At first, Bakura had clearly only coveted Marik's Millennium Rod. But as time went on, their relationship had become....more than that. And on the blimp where the tournament finals were held, in the darkness of Marik's room, before the final battle had commenced, they had become lovers. 

A night so passionate.....Marik refused to believe that it had meant nothing to the Spirit of the Ring. But after that, everything had changed. Marik had discovered that the Pharaoh did not kill his father, as Shaadi had led him to believe. His father's blood was instead on his own hands, and he'd created a whole other personality to conceal that truth from himself. The shock of this revelation had sent Marik reeling. He had done his Tombkeeper duty, and shown the Pharaoh the markings on his back. But, after that, he had returned to Egypt with his siblings, deeply uncertain of his future. 

But, one thing he was certain of: he still yearned for Yami Bakura. His co-conspirator, his equal in dueling, the best lay of his life. What was he doing here?

"Bakura, slown down!" Marik cried, catching up to the pale haired man, and seizing him by the wrist. The Spirit turned to him, and smirked.

"Hello, Marik. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Why have you come here?" Marik demanded. 

"I think, deep down, you know," Bakura said, his red eyes staring into Marik's violet ones. 

For a second, Marik thought, to be with me, but he knew that was wishful thinking. "The Pharaoh is coming to Egypt soon," Marik realized. "You've come here to kill him." 

"You may have abandoned your plot against the Pharaoh," Bakura nodded, "but my goals remain the same as they were the day you met me." 

"To get revenge," Marik guessed. "In Battle City, that was what we both wanted. But, you never really explained to me, what it was that you sought vengeance for. What did the Pharaoh do to you?" 

Bakura wrenched his wrist from Marik's grip, and backed away from him. "I have been carrying this grudge for three thousand years," he confessed. "I won't let some teenage boy who suddenly wants  to be a goody two shoes stand in my way." 

"I didn't say that I was going to stop you," Marik muttered. Perhaps they should be discussing this elsewhere, away from prying eyes. 

"Does that mean," Bakura asked, his lip beginning to curl upwards, "that you're going to help me? I thought you'd switched sides." 

"I'm on my own side," Marik insisted. "I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do, because I'm not sure what you're plotting, or what your reasons are. I want to hear your explanation, before I do anything."

Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"Besides," Marik admitted, "if I said I was going to try and stop you, you would probably kill me." 

"I would hate to have to kill you," Bakura chuckled. "I am rather fond of you, after all." Marik blushed, in spite of himself. "Can we go somewhere more quiet, so we can talk this over?" 

"I think I know just the place," Bakura said, and began walking off into the distance, towards the desert. "Follow me." %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% They wandered past the outskirts of the city, towards the Pyramids, and the tombs where Marik had grown up. They traversed over sandy dunes in umcomfortable silence for what seemed like hours. 

"Where are we going?" Marik asked finally. "Are you sure you're not lost?"

"I was born here, just like you," Bakura reminded. "A very long time ago." 

"In the days when the Pharaoh, and the first owner of my Rod, walked the earth," Marik nodded. 

"He was a right bastard," Bakura huffed.

"Who?" Marik blinked. "Set, the Pharoah's high priest," Bakura explained.

"That was the original Rod wielder's name?" Marik blinked. 

"Didn't your clan teach you the Millennium Items' history?" Bakura questioned.

"I was always a poor student," Marik confessed. He'd rather be running through the torch lit hallways with Rishid, playing games. Father always scolded him for neglecting his studies. 

"What exactly did they tell you, about where the Items came from?" Bakura demanded, a strange look on his face. 

"The Pharaoh and his priests wielded the Millennium Items to protect the kingdom," Marik recalled from his lessons. 

"Protect it from whom?" Bakura questioned. 

"From evildoers," Marik shrugged. "Father always said he would tell me the whole story when I came of age. But he.....met his end when I was still a child." 

"The enemy the Millennium Item holders were fighting against," Bakura confessed, "was me." 

Marik stopped in his tracks, almost slamming into Bakura, who was walking in front of him. It tripped him out, truthfully, that the man who had ridden on the back of his motorcycle, kissed him on an airship, played cutting edge holographic card games with him, was a three thousand year old spirit, who had lived and died while the Pyramids were still being built. 

"I killed them," Bakura continued, his tone cold and unrepentant. "I was responsible for the death of Karim, who wielded the Millennium Scales, and Shada, who wielded the Millennium Key. And, of course, Mahad, the original owner of this Ring." He looked down at the glittering gold of the Millennium Item around his neck. 

"The Tombkeepers watched over the Scales and the Key all my life," Marik recalled. He didn't like to think about his childhood this much. "The Ring....I remember we had it in our possession, when I was young. One day, Father was spitting with rage. He said some treasure hunter - a foreigner - had stolen it." 

"My host's father," Bakura nodded. "Bakura Rokuro." 

Marik was not sure it had truly hit him, until this moment, that the face and body before his eyes, which he had kissed and touched not so long ago, did not really belong to the spirit he was speaking to. His real body must be buried, mummified, under these sands somewhere. 

"Bakura is not even your real name," Marik realized. "But the name of your host."  

"Yes, Bakura Ryou is simply my vessel," the Spirit of the Ring nodded. "When all this is over...he will wake up confused. He won't know where he is, or who you are. Try to ensure that he makes it back to Domino City in one piece." 

"Does that mean that 'when all this is over'....you won't be coming back?" Marik frowned. 

"Once my thirst for revenge has been slaked, at last," Bakura replied, "my spirit will be at peace, and then, I suppose I can rest."

"In the afterlife?" Marik guessed. 

"Where else would a ghost go?" Bakura chuckled. 

"Aren't you worried what will happen when your heart is weighed against the feather of Ma'at?" Marik worried. "Don't you fear judgement for your sins?"

"Do you fear judgement for yours?" Bakura asked. The question pierced Marik like a knife. 

"I can't judge you for your crimes," Marik sighed. "In Battle City....I wouldn't have cared if Katsuya had drowned, or that safe had fallen on Mazaki and crushed her. Or if Pandora's legs had been sliced off by that saw. Or if Hikari no Kamen and Yami no Kamen had fallen off that building to their deaths....."

"Thankfully," Bakura chuckled, "the Pharaoh helped all your foolish pawns escape with their lives." 

"What did the Pharaoh do to you?" Marik asked again. "I've realized...I don't anything about you at all. Bakura isn't even your real name. What did they call you, in your mortal life?" 

"Most knew me as the Thief King," the Spirit of the Ring revealed.

"That's not a name," Marik pointed out. "That's a title." 

"My true name doesn't matter," Bakura shrugged. "I will not exist in this modern world much longer anyway, after my plan is complete."

"What are you planning?" Marik demanded, his voice raising. "Why did you come back to me, just to leave me again?" 

"I want you to know the truth about who I was," Bakura explained. "There is no soul left in this world who remembers the Thief King. The Pharaoh is the only person I once knew who still walk this earth - and he has no memory of who I am, or why I despise him. When he regains his memories, his time on this plane will end. They say you only live as long as people remember you. And you, Marik Ishtar, are perhaps the only person on Earth who will remember me with fondness." 

"I'll miss you," Marik admitted. "I was hoping you and I could be together again." 

"I wish that could be," Bakura said, his voice full of passion as he looked into Marik's eyes. "I wish I could be your lover, like I was before." He leaned in close, and his lips touched Marik's. Desire coursed through the Tombkeeper's body, and soon his hands were in the Spirit's long hair, pulling him closer, desperate.

Reluctantly, Bakura pulled away. "But, this cannot be," he sighed. "I do not belong in the land of the living. My spirit lingers here for one purpose - my vengeance." 

Marik understood this. He had desired vengeance against the Pharaoh for many years, and that  misguided goal had driven all of his actions. Now, he felt adrift, without the mission that had motivated him for so long. 

"You wielded the power of the Millennium Rod, when you sought your vengeance," Bakura recalled. "But, do you know where the power of the Millennium Items comes from?" 

"Dark magic," Marik guessed.

"The darkest kind," Bakura agreed. "The kind that comes from the most evil and heinous of rituals." 

Marik blinked in the bright desert sun, confused. He and his clan had been watching over the Millennium Items for centuries, waiting for the Pharaoh's return. But, in all his studies, he was never taught how the Items had been created. 

"Human sacrifice," Bakura revealed, staring down at the Ring around his neck. "The blood and bones and souls of an entire village were melted down with the gold, imbuing them with cursed power." 

Marik gasped, horrified. He realized then where Bakura had brought him. They were standing on the ruins of an ancient city. Broken columns and shells of buildings, half-buried in the sand, were all that remained of the once-populous village. 

"This is all that's left of Kul Elna," Bakura explained, gesturing at the remnants. They looked like an archeological site. "The village that was massacred by the Pharaoh to create the Millennium Items. My village."

Marik's hand went to his mouth. He had endured horrors in his lifetime - hieroglyphics carved painfully into his unwilling back. An evil alter ego arising from the trauma of patricide. Horrible things - but none quite as horrible as witnessing a genocide. 

"I'm so sorry, Thief King," he said, putting an arm around his lover.

Bakura backed away from his touch. "I don't need your shoulder to cry on," he laughed. "I only need the Pharoah's suffering and death, as retribution for the suffering and death of my family." 

Marik's eyes widened, unsure of what to say. He, too, had once wished "suffering and death" upon the Pharaoh. But, now he regretted his actions. 

"I am not some victim, who deserves your sympathy," Bakura confessed. "I am a thief, and a stealer of souls. I killed the masters of the Ring, Key, and Scales, and I felt no remorse. I am responsible for the death of Isis, as well, who wielded the Millennium Necklace. Her soul seems to have returned in this century, as your sister. No wonder she despises me." 

"Why are you tellling me this?" Marik asked, feeling uneasy.

"I'm letting you know all my flaws now," Bakura explained, "so you could love me better, or leave me quicker."

"You want my love?" Marik said, confused. "I thought you only wanted your revenge." 

"I want to be with you, one last time, before my soul rests," Bakura said, looking desperately into Marik's eyes. "One more night in your beautiful arms, before I condemn myself to Hell. Is that too much to ask?" 

Marik reddened. He wanted this man, that much was true. He'd yearned for another taste of his touch since he left Domino City. And yet....

"But you're on the side of the angels now," Bakura chuckled. "Or at least, men who think they are angels. They assume that theirs is the just side. You and your family promised to help them, right? The Pharaoh, and his vessel, Yugi Mutou, and his friends." 

"Yes," Marik admitted. "When they come to Egypt, Ishizu and I are supposed to help them restore the Pharaoh's name and memories, and commence the Ceremonial Duel."

"When they come to Egypt," Bakura said plainly, "I am going to play a Shadow Game with the Pharaoh, and I am going to make him pay. I will be doing my best to prevent him from recovering his name - the task you say you plan to help him with. And I do not care whatsoever if the Pharaoh's friends - who now seem to consider you their ally  - are caught in the crossfire." 

"Why reveal your plan to me?" Marik asked. "Why not lie?"

"I want to know if you will leave me, knowing what kind of  man I am," Bakura confided. "I want to know if you will try and stop me. Will you warn young Mutou-san that I'm after his so-called yami? Will you try and protect the Pharaoh, who, as a Tombkeeper, you're sworn to serve?" 

"I don't hate the Pharaoh anymore," Marik said, uncertainly. "But, I do still love you, even knowing your true nature. I cannot stop my heart from loving you, or my body from wanting you, regardless of the flaws you confess to me. I will not 'leave you quicker'. I want to stay with you until the end." 

"You can stay with me all night long," Bakura whispered seductively. "One last, blissful night- but, come morning, the Pharaoh's plane will arrive in Cairo, and I will do what I have waited to do for three millennia."

"I won't stop you," Marik decided. "I will send the Pharoah to the place he is destined to go, fulfilling my role as a Tombkeeper. Once he gets there.....whether he wins your game, or you do....that is up to the Gods." 

"You wielded the power of the Gods once," Bakura recalled.

"Yes," Marik sighed. "But, I have long since surrendered my Winged Dragon of Ra to the Pharaoh."

"He will use it against me in our duel," Bakura predicted. "You have made my coming battle much harder to win." 

"My other self used Ra to defeat you in Battle City," Marik remembered. 

"Well, that's your other self," Bakura shrugged. "I carry a grudge against him, not you." "He's gone now," Marik said seriously. "For good this time." 

"I wanted you to regain control of your body," Bakura confessed. "Not simply because I wanted your Millennium Rod, but because I wanted what was best for you."

"You tried to help me win control of myself back," Marik nodded. "I will always be grateful to you for that, Thief King." 

"I have spent millennia haunting this Ring, waiting for my final faceoff with the Pharaoh," Bakura said thoughtfully. "And tomorrow, I will have it. But, I never expected that I would find someone who I cared for. It is, at last, my time to settle the score, and  leave this plane - but I wish I did not have to leave you, Marik.”

"I won't leave you until I have to," Marik promised. "I'll give you my love, and I'll give you tonight, and I won't regret it." 

"Even though, when morning light comes, I'll set off to kill your king?" 

"I wish you could stay," Marik sighed. "I wish you could be mine forever. But, perhaps, when I die, our souls will be reunited, on the other side of the Du'at."

"Then may Osiris have mercy on our wicked souls," Bakura laughed, and kissed Marik again. For now, his soul still resided in Bakura Ryou's body - and that body would know no sleep tonight.