#which would send them back to the forgotten realms with earth stuff

[blue-deneb]

anthony’s thought process in the last half of this ep as i imagine it:

ok so they’re gonna go to earth and get the last anchor everything’s going according to plan

god fucking damnit taylor not this again

yknow what. fuck it. into space you go fuckers

oh shit they’re going to die in space

gotta agree with any stupid ass plan they do now so i don’t accidentally do a tpk

yeah sure marriage makes you one person in the eyes of the lord

nicky’s now an ordained minister. whatever

yes you’re flying over utah

that’s not how banishment works but sure let’s go with that

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

                              - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

         Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

         “I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

         They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

         He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

         “This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

         “Paimon.”

         Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

         The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

         Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

         “I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

         Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

         “You are correct. You are going into this one.”

         The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

         “This is an abuse of power!”

         “An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

         Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

         “If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

         Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

         “I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

         Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

         “I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

         Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

         “Dad?”

 ---------------------------------

         “Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

         “It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

         “My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

         Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

         “No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

         Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

         Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

         Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

         “Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

         Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

         “Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

         Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

         “What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

         Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

         “When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

         “No.”

         “Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

         “No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

         “Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

         He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

         Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

         “My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

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

         “Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

         Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

         “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

         Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

         “Where are all my clothes?!”

         DING DONG

         “Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

         Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

         DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

         Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

         It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

         “Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

         Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

         “Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

         “My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

         “Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked. 

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both. 

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”

[theswirlersisterscircus]

your morgan was the new catalyst for sending the moms into the forgotten realms post is SO good bc that totally make sense! like the reason mercedes and co went was bc henry asked her to gather up all her friends right(??) add on to that glenn as jodies last phone call to her and 😭 thats Heartbreaking. morgan..........................

(also, relistening to tj's arc, out of all the emotional gut punches all i think about is that stupid your welcome buisness card 😭 like hello..? who is doin favors for the local vampire)

YEAH I'M ACTUALLY LOSING MY MIND OVER IT but okay so i looked back at a bunch of the transcripts for episodes bc i simply don't have the time to listen to every single episode again BUT what i found was that essentially, henry first lets mercedes know about the forgotten realms around the terry jr. arc, in which she says she's going to gather a coven of witches on her end to try to open a portal or something to get them all home, and then like 20 episodes later when they find the mummies in the pyramid mercedes' letter says that after 10 years earth time, the coven she put together discovered a huge spike in magic energy or something at the mummy ride at universal and that she gathered the other moms to go investigate, hoping it would open a portal like she always thought it might.

unfortunately what ACTUALLY happens is they all get stuck in a weird time dimension and for like another 10 years and weird time shit happens and it loses me here every time bc i'm not a fan of time travel stuff but basically, if in this new universe where morgan is jodie's wife and she ALSO knows about the forgotten realms (and carol too sorta?) the chance that the four moms go to the pyramid together far earlier on because jodie stops picking up morgan's calls is Much Higher, the au potential is limitless, i'm literally unable to think about anything else

[lokidrabbles]

Bitter-sweetness (Loki x Reader)

Loki comes to visit the reader after they send out a drunk text

A/N: Another part of my Loki x Reader Winter Series! This is also an AU after Ragnarok where the Asgardians have settled on Earth. As always, Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: Language, Alcohol Use, Angst, Implied smut

You considered yourself to be a responsible person to a certain degree. In fact, you prided in your ability to make rational decisions about your day to day adult musings. Yet here you were, alone in your home, a whole bottle of red wine downed, complete inhibited from making sure you didn’t make a terrible decision.

This was your first holiday away from home. Living in the big apple had its perk, especially since you managed to land a job working at Stark Industries but living alone, while your closest relative lived three states away was not as glamorous as the shows made it out to be. You swore you would be able to handle it, after all, this had been quite a successful year for you career wise. And yet, the horrible emptiness expanded the moment you finished speaking with your sibling over the phone.

Reality hit. You were here alone, and that was just scratching the surface of it all. You had gotten along well with your co-workers and the supers you would run into often but it wasn’t the same. There was no way you would budge and plea for them to spend this ‘merry’ time with you, humiliating. And so, while not the healthiest of coping skills, you drowned your depression away with a little lady known as Lambrusco.

Being a lightweight, the red wine quickly put you in an inebriated state, fixated on feeling sorry for yourself and the impeccable loneliness.  You cried, you laughed, and you sang depressing melodies in effort to bring your spirits up, but to no avail. You eventually ended up surfing on social media through your phone, twisting your mouth at the cloy pictures of families and friends celebrating together in their homes. What a bunch of bullshit. You resisted the temptation to instant message your old friends, knowing it would just be filled with a myriad of cuss words.

Your mind then wandered on texting your co-workers, clinging onto a childish hope of maybe one of them coming to your rescue and joining you in drinks and sobs. You flipped through your contact list and came across your most recently added. It was a 5 digit number, but that wasn’t weird for you. Tony would often have these weirdly set up numbers for some of the team members to maintain contact without having calls traced by ill intending foes, and you ended up with some of them through exchanges and other occasions. You weren’t really sure how it worked, but it was kind of like a trading card game you had with your co-workers. Obtain Thor’s number, Caps’ number, Dr. Banner’s number, Romanov’s number. It was stupid but it passed the time.

You squinted your eyes, attempting to decipher which Avenger’s number this was. However with the room spinning and your happy-go-lucky state, you didn’t bother to figure out who it was, and you began to text the unknown number with the best of your ability.

Helloo,,,,this is (y/n) and....comeover I have fun stuff to do...:) :) :)

Perfect. And with much gusto, you tapped on that send button, throwing your phone casually on the side of your couch. It wasn’t like you really expected anyone to answer or to come over, and it wasn’t like you really cared at the moment. Without any hesitation, you reached for the wine bottled and took a last swig, with only drops remaining of the sweet warm nectar. You felt the relief in your throat and closed your eyes, slowly drifting into a quick nap, completely disheveled on your couch.

Not ten minutes would pass before you heard a loud and obnoxious pounding on your door. The loud rapping sent you flying off your couch and in a frenzy. You cleared your throat and scurried over to your front door.

“I’m going, I’m going!” You yelled, not having a moment to sort  out what was actually happening. But the room continued to spin, and you figured you were still heavily drunk.

You undid your locks and open the door wide open, only to be greeted by the cold winter wind and the last person you had expected at the moment.

“What in the seven realms are you trying to prove here?” It was Loki, standing tall and menacing over you. He held a small cellular phone between his thumb and index finger, showing you the drunk text you had sent him.

It was Loki’s number. You had completely forgotten that your coworker had given you the number after laughing about Tony giving Loki a method of communication and how Loki was entirely clueless on how to use the device or what it’s purpose even was. Your coworker had a know in with the security manager who programmed Loki’s phone and got his contact number through suggestive means. Again, part of the stupid little game, and you had mindlessly added the number onto your contacts.

Fuck. You guessed he had figured out how to use it.

“Ah, shit.” You sputtered casually. “I didn’t think anyone would have come!”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you incredulously. “You’re wobbling.”

Wobbling. Loki’s accent was distracting enough most of the time. But hearing him say a silly world like wobbling sent you in a laughing spree. It was uncontrollable laughter, where the more you stared at him the funnier it would become. It was apparent that Loki didn’t find this funny in the slightest.

“Wobbling, pfft. Woooosh.” You retorted, making fluttering movements with your fingers.

“Wait.” He began, his mind beginning to calculate and process. And finally it hit him. “You’re drunk. Are you foolish or just this stupid?”

“Both maybe.”

Loki groaned, shoving you inside your living room and closing the door behind him. Immediately he began to smell the heavy scent of alcohol coming from you, as well as quickly taking notice of the empty wine bottle and wine juices leaked on your coffee table. Also you wouldn’t stop laughing, continuing to giggle until you fell backwards onto you couch.

Loki narrowed his eyes at you. “Having a good time here? I see you’ve laid waste to that wine bottle.”

“Oh yeah.” You responded proudly, throwing your arms up in the air. “Nothing else to do here, but to see just how much I can drink till I stop making sense. Which is...now!”

“Really now?” He responded sardonically. “You look like an absolute mess.”

“Screw you.” You dejected at him knowing full well that wouldn’t offend him in the slightest. “Why are you even here if you’re just gonna be like this.”

“Would you rather I leave then?” His arms were crossed over his chest now, long legs and feet firmly planted on the ground. He looked very intimidating, but perhaps because of your state, he also looked extremely masculine and handsome. You never noticed how broad his shoulders actually were, or how defined his jawline was. You imagined being held in those strong arms and hummed pleasantly.

“No, I like you being here.” You said in a sing song manner, swinging your head back and forth.

“Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking for you? I wouldn’t imagine you meant to send that message directly to me.”

Loki took a seat across from you on the couch, continuing to shoot you looks of improvement, but concern as well. You continued to fixate on his looks despite this, suddenly wanting to see how his skin would feel on your hands.

“It wasn’t really meant for anyone. But I actually feel a lot better knowing it was you.” Even through your mashed up words, this was actually true. If it was Tony or a coworker or, lord forbid, anyone of the Avengers receiving this and coming over to lecture you about your substance use, your humiliation would have no bounds. There was still a sense of a professional relationship to maintain with them and if those boundaries were broken, maybe that would mean your job as well.

However, the moment you saw Loki standing at your door, you worry had instantly vanished. It was funny, but Loki was the only person who you could be yourself with. There wasn’t any authoritative nature to him, and you felt you didn’t need to prove anything while he was in your vicinity. He was just as lost as you were during this year in dealing with Stark Industries and the team. Also you both had bonded a bit with having a natural disdain for large crowds and ‘stupid’ people in general. You weren’t proud to be shit talking about others, but it made some work days bearable for you.

“Perhaps this is the moment where I as why you’ve drunk an entire bottle of red wine on your own. Even I can tell your natural tolerance isn’t very good.” Loki said, motioning for you to begin describing whatever had tormented you for this evening.

You sputtered again. “It’s stupid. I didn’t even mean to drink the whole thing. It just happened. Stupid bottle.” You really didn’t want to talk about, fearing how much control you would lose. You couldn’t put Loki in an awkward position, with you bawling over the fact that you miss your family or that you feel completely alone in such a large city. You knew Loki’s situation, you knew how much conflict he had experienced during the past year, what with settling down on Earth after Asgard was destroyed. Your human woes paled in comparison to what both him and Thor had encountered, why minimize that?

“Are you not comfortable with discussing this with me?” He asked, his voice firm. There was no malice in it but some sense of ease.

You shook your head. “I am sooo comfortable with you. I’m just not really comfortable with myself.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that.” He continued, but you remained quiet mostly because you began to feel sick. “But I do know, even in Asgard, we drank for both our victories and for our losses.”

You pondered on this for a bit and then sniggered. “I suppose a loss for myself. Because lord knows no one wants to be around me.” Here we go. You were beginning to be dramatic once more, drowning in your melancholy. “But noooo I have a lot of friends and people who like me right? Because that’s what everyone expects right? For me to be content with everything?”

Loki remained quiet but not for a loss at words, but simply because he knew listening would be the best way to tackle this situation. His body language changed and he turned his body to face you, full attention and focus. But of course, you were far too deep in your downward spiral to have noticed.

“I’m supposed to be this independent, responsible adult who knows what they want or want to do.” You continued, your voice beginning to break. “But I still feel lost. And stupid. And wobbly.” You sniggered again, not being able to hold back to stupidity of the word.

Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why humans always enjoy over complicating their own personal matters when the solution is staring them right at the face.”

You stopped giggling and furrowed your brows. “How am I over complicating things? I feel like shit because it’s been a whole year of me living in this city and I haven’t made one single valuable connection with anyone. Don’t be telling me that is an easy thing to solve.”

It was as if you had completely forgotten you were still tipsy.

“You do realize you could have just contacted me.” His words seemed to have echoed across your living room, sending a strong pang of guilt into your chest.

“What are you talking about?” You words meshed with one another, unable to articulate your frustration.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “I really do have to hold your hand for everything don’t I? As long as I am here in this forsaken city working for that piece of human garbage that is Stark, you don’t have to spend your evenings alone.”

You blink in total bewilderment, not really buying into his intentions or his words. “Don’t do that. Don’t just do that because you feel sorry for my pathetic ass.”

“Are you daft?” Loki responded with an elevated voice.  “What indication of pity have I presented for you? What you need to realize is you have absolutely no reason to have this display of misery if companionship is what you seek.”

Your eyes widened as your focused in on the details of his face. Even though he had become quite angered by your stubbornness, he continued to be beautiful and ridiculously attractive to you. A strand of his dark locks fell over his face, making him even more desirable than you could have imagined. His piercing blue-green eyes were just as captivating as the last time you saw them. What would you have sacrificed for the opportunity to absolutely melt into him? To take in his scent or his heat. Maybe to even dig your face into the crook of his neck, providing you with much security.

Evidently your body began to move on its own as you leaned forwards to him, plopping yourself ungainly between his arms and his chest. Loki instinctively pulled backwards only causing you to fall further onto him until you were completely laid down upon his chest. He kept his arms slightly above you, unsure whether you’d be fine with him placing them on your back or on your waist. You sighed contently, nuzzling your face and fists into his chest. He was very warm, and you could hear the thumping of a heart deep within him.

“This...is not the best position to be in.” He said, a minute after laying there awkwardly with you.

“Heeey Loki.” You began, some mischief in your tone. “Let’s do it.”

You swore you heard him gulp heavily. “No. Especially with your inebriated state.”

You chuckled, your best attempt at being sly. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about you at first. I guess it didn’t cross my mind that you’d want to do anything with me.”

You finally felt his hands gently rest on your back, fully trusting of your total comfort with him.

“I’m going to reveal something to you but I don’t want you to tell anyone else. This is solely for your ears.” He began, piquing at you interest.

You plopped your head upwards to have a better look at him. “Oh?”

“I don’t come to New York solely for Stark. In fact, he’s become quite disdainful of me as you know. I go out of my way to come here because of you.”

An uncontrollable smile formed over your face. But again, that could have been the alcohol.

“You’re a foolish human. But...you are my foolish human. And you don’t need to be alone as long as I am here. I know how much this time of the year means for you, and I wouldn’t want to see you like this again.”

Before he could continue, you lifted your upper body to plant a much desired kiss on Loki’s lips. You didn’t care if you still reeked of cheap wine or if it was an impulse of your needs, but you deeply desired to still feel him skin on yours. You became even more eager once you felt him return your kiss, aggressively and longingly. His lips were so soft and tasteful and you pleaded mentally for him to explore your tongue with his. You pulled back briefly, your eyes watery and full of drunken bliss.

“I love you so much.” You said without much thought or meaning. You knew you didn’t fully convey those emotions yet, but the timing felt right.

He stared at you with his mouth slightly agape, his eyes also full of bliss and desire. “Don’t say that just yet. But I do too.”

The remainder of the evening was spent quietly as Loki adjusted himself to a much more comfortable position where he could fully encircle his arms around your frame. You melted into him, greedily closing your eyes and drifting away into a peaceful slumber inside his hold. You continued to be lulled by the thumping on his chest, your own matching his in full connection.

[tonystarkbingo]

3 Prompt Summaries

Ransom Note, Royalty and Lending a Hand - suggested by @polizwrites

@rebelmeg - what do you get when you combine elite royalty, a mob boss with a reputation for being ruthless, and a ransom note that tells them both that their child is being held hostage? well... nothing good, that's for sure, because this team-up is going to be the stuff of legends.

@deehellcat - Prince Tony is promised in marriage to King Obadiah of a neighboring realm so their lands can be merged, but marrying that creepy old man is the last thing he wants to do. he confides in his best friend and bodyguard Sir James Rhodes who pledges to lend him a hand, Rhodey pens a fake ransom note that the prince has been kidnapped then helps him sneak out of the castle in disguise.

@somesortofitalianroast - Prince Steven of Brooklyn should have known it was a bad idea when he decided to tour Philadelphia by himself. At night. By the Schuylkill. Yeah, it wasn’t his best idea. He also should have known that the Family that still [still!] ran Philadelphia would send a ransom note to his family. And he should have known that the Duchy of Brooklyn had an inside man who was happy to lend a hand.

@27dragons - Barnes doesn't generally work kidnappings -- he's a homicide detective, so if they're calling him in on a kidnapping, it's because something went terribly wrong. But when Prince Tony is kidnapped off the street in broad daylight by a crew leaving no clues whatsoever other than an encoded ransom note, Chief Fury told him to get over there and lend a hand. The problem is, the note seems to suggest that the kidnapper... is Barnes himself.

@celtic7irish - We have your prince. Four words on a ransom note with no ransom demands. James sighed. The royalty around here caused him no end of grief. He turned to his best friend and Captain of the Guard. “It’s him again. Want to lend me a hand on this one?” Steve grinned, fierce and proud. “When do we start?”

@polizwrites - When Tony disappears leaving only a couple of face cards from his favorite deck laid out on his desk, Jim thinks it’s a joke - that is until Mr. Stark gets a ransom note. And as much as he despises Tony’s dad - Jim knows he has to help.

@Magicadraconia16 - When he complained to his Captain of the Guard that he really needed a break from his princely duties - and Howard - he wasn't expecting to end up staring at a random note . . . for himself.

@rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter - Ransom Note, Royalty, Lending a hand In sickness and in health. That was the promise. Tony hadn't meant to break it. He certainly hadn't meant to wish Bucky away. Now he's got a ransom note sent by some 'Goblin King' and ragtag troupe of labyrynth dwellers willing to lend their hands...and sometimes paws.

@jacarandabanyan - Royalty AU, Prince Anthony Stark is kidnapped! His parents are searching the realm for him, and offering high prizes to anyone who can return him to them safely. The only clue they have is a ransom note written in Tony's own handwriting, and a claim from a servant that the Prince was seen approaching a rough dubious-looking man with one arm with a request that the man 'lend him a hand' getting out of a marriage contract…

Keep reading for more!

Sunflowers, Starlight and Lollipops - suggested by @magicadraconia16

@polizwrites - Morgan was never quite sure whether her father had made up that lullaby, or if it was something that someone had sung to him as a child, but it was a tune she still hummed to herself whenever she was feeling sad or lonely.

@celtic7irish - Tony had no idea where he was, trapped on an alien planet and lost in some sort of flower field, but with no flowers he’d ever seen before. He was pretty sure those were sunflowers, but they were sparkling in the starlight, making the whole field light up like it was coated in fireflies. Checking around in his pockets, Tony sighed as he pulled out one of Morgan’s lollipops and popped it into his mouth. “Great. Let’s go find the fairies and see if they can get me back home,” he muttered, striding off across the field.

@rebelmeg - art summary - stark family lying out under the stars in a field, sunflowers bobbing over their heads, and probably holding big colorful carnival lollipops because i've got no better idea + @newnewyorker93 - that, but daytime and they're looking at clouds, one of them is definitively lollipop-shaped

@somesortofitalianroast - It was the weirdest offering Tony had ever seen on his desk. A bouquet of sunflowers, a copy of Muse’s Starlight, and a bag of Dum Dum lollipops. There wasn’t even a card to explain who it was from, or who it was too. Huh. Maybe Pepper had put the items there and forgotten about them…

@27dragons - It's late by the time Tony gets home from work -- so late it's early -- and he's exhausted beyond belief. He navigates the house by the starlight coming through the windows and hopes desperately he won't wake anyone. He just wants to sneak into bed and curl up against his spouse for whatever few hours remain of the night. But he has to stop when he gets to the living room, where a lamp has been left on, shining on a carefully-arranged bouquet of sunflowers, Tony's favorite. Stuck in between the flowers are a handful of lollipops, proving that more than one person had a hand in this. The note says, "Cleared it with Pepper, you have tomorrow off. Come to bed." Tony's family is the best. [There, managed to write it so it can be whatever ship you want.]

@jacarandabanyan - One of Tony's less-publicized hobbies is funding off-the-wall science proposals made in jest at scientific conferences. The more outrageous the project, the more willing he is to pitch in money, supplies, networking help, etc. This time, he's even agreed to do the research himself. Which is how he found himself up on the moon of an unfamiliar planet in an unfamiliar galaxy, studying botany papers and trying to find what happens when you grow sunflowers by the light of a different star than Earth's sun. As ways to avoid the press and the Board go, it's original at least. Two months into his experiment, two little girls claiming to be "daughters of Thanos" pay him a rather menacing visit. He offers them a lollipop.

@rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter - Once a decade, under the light of the full moon, and across the three dark nights of the winter solstice, the Starlight games are hosted. Sunflower has won the last four games running, but that was before Lollipop had Bucky fighting for them. This round they're out for nectar and Bucky intends to be MVP. Of course, the prize this year was extra sweet: a kiss from Starlight prince Tony-and a chance to win his hand.

@deehellcat - the last thing Morgan remembers is her mommy screaming as the car careened off the road and crashed. she sits up and looks around but she isn't in the city anymore, instead in a grassy field. a man comes toward her, a man she recognizes, and she runs into his arms yelling DADDY. they go for a walk thru a field of tall sunflowers (he says they're his favorite) and up a hill, they lie in the grass sucking on lollipops and looking at the stars. then he kisses her & tells her to give her mommy his love, before the world around her fades and she finds herself waking up in a hospital with Pepper hovering over her.

@summerpipedream - "What's this?" The book was frayed at the edges, but had a beautiful sunflower on the cover, a lolipop sticker on the edge. "Ana's cookbook," said Jarvis. "With all your favourite recipes as a child. " Now that omega Tony is expecting, and forced into bedrest by the doctor and his worried mate Steve, Tony vows to learn how to cook, one recipe at a time.

Hallmark, magic, and brunch - @somesortofitalianroast

@somesortofitalianroast - It’s not like Tony was expecting his Sunday brunch to be something out of a Hallmark movie, but he could have done without his fairy godmother showing up and telling him that he was the sole heir to a magical kingdom and it was time for him to claim his throne.

@polizwrites - Tony knows how to conjure up exquisite dishes with the wave of a wand; but to prove he truly loves his partners, he makes them a meal from scratch. It’s not his fault he really, really likes cinnamon…

@summerpipedream - "Nat, how the hell are pancakes supposed to solve anything?" Natasha rolled her eyes and tapped on the sign behind the counter. "Pancakes solve everything." Bucky glared. "You literally just put that up." Natasha waved her wand with a flourish. "And if I did? Eat up Barnes. Your destiny is about to walk through that door." Bucky was about to complain, but then the bell to the diner rang. Tony Stark walked through the door.

@27dragons - This isn't some sappy Hallmark movie. Bucky knows that. He's not expecting some magical force to make Tony fall in love with him, really. But he's going to try, anyway. Starting with brunch.

@rebelmeg - "tony... these are the most flawless eggs i've ever seen. how did you do that?" he grinned to himself as he slid the two perfect sunny-side-up eggs onto the waiting plate. "just magic." rhodey was watching from the table, a smirk on his face. "yeah, that or the hallmark movie you watched last week that made you cry." rhodey kind figured he deserved the piece of toast that tony threw at him.

@newnewyorker93 - Unfortunately for Stephen Strange there isn't a Hallmark card that quite covers apologizing for ruining brunch with Tony when a chaotic interdimensional beastie follows him through his portal (next time he'll take the subway)

@celtic7irish - Stephen glared at the man standing next to him. “What makes you think I can just I this away?” he demanded sarcastically. Tony shrugged, trying to hide a shiver. He wasn't dressed for this weather. “I don’t know. I mean, we were just supposed to be having brunch, and now we’re in some sort of freaking Hallmark Christmas thing, and I’m pretty sure that magic caused it. Because it definitely isn’t science.” He grimaced; Tony hated admitting that things like magic even existed, but when one had the Sorcerer Supreme for a boyfriend, one learned to accept that magic was probably real. Stephen sighed, summoning a portal to the Mirror Dimension. “Well, at least our first anniversary date isn’t boring.” Tony glared.

candlelight, window, vampire - suggested by @rebelmeg

@celtic7irish - The slender figure standing in the window, his profile lit only by the flickering candlelight, turned to look at him, and James shivered. So this was Anthony, rumored vampire and lord of the castle. And James' new patron.

@somesortofitalianroast - They’d all heard the rumors: an honest-to-god Vampire had set up in a moldering castle in Transylvania and was passing himself off as Dracula. After several sets of negotiations, Steve was chosen to go and check out the rumors. He was expecting… Well, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to see the most beautiful man he’d ever seen through the window, shaving by candlelight.

@27dragons - Bucky was starting to get a handle on this whole vampire gig. He'd figured out the best ways to hide from the sun, how to hide the death-pallor of his skin with candlelight, how to mask the scent of blood on his breath with wine. What he hadn't figured out was what to do about the stunningly beautiful man who was currently climbing through his window.

@rebelmeg - it had practically been a challenge, and Tony never backed down from a challenge.  The whole world at large had managed to make vampires unsexy for pepper, but danged if he wouldn’t manage it before the night was through.  The candles by the window had been placed strategically, putting a soft golden glow over the two of them as they looked at their reflections in the glass.  

“Okay, tip your head back on my shoulder.  A little more.  Just like that.  Now look.”  tony saw it on her face when she saw them, framed in the window, his hand resting delicately on her jaw as he lowered his mouth to her throat.

“You win,” she said around a bit of a gasp, her pupils dilating as her heartbeat skyrocketed. “You as a vampire would definitely be sexy.”

With a pleased hum, tony gave her a playful nip.  Just a little one.

@summerpipedream - You have 3 new messages. Press one to playback. 

"Hey Tony, it's Steve. I'm sorry to interrupt your honeymoon with Bucky, but uh- do you remember Count Dracula lookalike last month? The guy who tried to take over the city? Well he's sent some sort of wedding gift to the tower. It's uh- hanging out the window. Hold on-" 

"Hey Tony. It's Steve again. Uh any chance you know where the spare candles are? That's stupid why would the tower have candles- never mind." 

"NEVER MIND. IT'S BAD. WE"RE RUNNING. DON'T COME BACK TO THE TOWER-" 

End of new messages

@gavilansblog - Tony stared at the candle on the windowsill. Or rather, squinted. "What were you thinking?" He demanded, slurring around his fake vampire teeth. "How is this supposed to look like a haunted house when the lights are making it bright as day in here?" Bucky winced. "How was I supposed to know they even made 1000 watt candle shaped bulbs?" (Brought to you by the conversation I was having just now with a friend whose brother made this mistake)

@Magicadraconia16 - "Leave a candle in the window," they said. A load of superstitious old nonsense, if you asked Tony. As if he's really going to leave an old-fashioned burning candle in the window where Dum-E could knock it over (although, that would give him an opportunity to use his brand new fire extinguisher...) It was just a shame that nobody mentioned that the candles weren't to scare the vampire off - they were to feed the light-vampire, and without it... well, the next nearest source in Tony's house just so happens to be his arc reactor.

@polizwrites - As a creature of the night the warm glow of the candle on the windowsill was a bittersweet reminder of the world he’d never see again. “I’m sorry, my love.” James reached out as if to snuff the flame, but Anthony stayed his hand. “No need to apologize, dear one.”

Cats, Sandwich, Chaos - suggested by @celtic7irish

@somesortofitalianroast - Very little had changed since Steve had brought Bucky in from the cold. Except the lunch meat disappeared from the fridge at a rate that not even JARVIS could explain. And that Bucky brought a cat with him. It was a small, white thing that loved Tony’s workshop and loved the bots. It caused more chaos than something that only weight five pounds should have been able to cause, and it loved his sandwiches.

@celtic7irish - Tony stared at the chaos in his living room; overturned tables, toppled lamps, and were those claw marks on his drapes? “What the-?” Tony trailed off, his voice faint, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Daddy!” Morgan squealed, her eyes wide and face innocent as she held a squirming, wriggling bundle in her arms. A moment later, a small kitten stuck its head out of the blanket, meowing pitifully. “Can we keep her?”

@27dragons - Tony likes to think he takes a lot of weird things in stride, as an Avenger. Magic? Sure. Random visitations from a god of chaos? Old hat, these days. Insane robots and/or aliens trying to take over the city? No problem. But he had to admit, even he was having trouble maintaining his calm in the face of a trio of superheroes sitting at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches and sporting cat ears. Real ones. Oh, and tails. Yeah, he's... going back to bed.

@rebelmeg - “BUCKY!”

“What?”

“Your cat stole my sandwich again!”

Bucky watched as alpine skidded around the corner and dove under the couch, tony’s beloved 3-bacon sandwich clamped tight in his jaws.

“Yup.  he sure did.  Why do you keep leaving it out?”

“IT WAS IN MY HAND!”

Just another tuesday...

[thekisforkeats]

In The Hall of the Raven Queen (Let All the Broken Pieces Shine, Chapter Four)

Info: The Magnus Archives, D&D AU. JonMartin, more ships to be added. Rated T. Post-Canon. Jon is amab nb and uses they/them, Martin is a trans guy.

CWs: Body transformation, Ageism (sort of), Apocalypses (mentioned), Doubting reality, Child abuse (mentioned; Martin remembering his mother), Alternate realities, Character death (mentioned), Shouting, Minor Innuendo

Summary: Martin and Jon are both alive; they reunite, flirt a bit in front of a goddess(!) and get their marching orders. Cryptic marching orders, of course. Can these two ever get any other kind?

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

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Martin opens his eyes and is, for a moment, confused. There was a Jon in his arms, and now there is no Jon in his arms, and this is Bad. He can remember poetry and fire in the darkness, burning the web, burning the tapes… and the last thing, the most important thing: he’s never letting Jon go, ever again.

He scrabbles about a bit as he gets up, like he’s trying to find his glasses. “Jon? Jon!!"

Jon’s voice comes from above: “I’m right here, Martin.”

Martin looks up and there’s Jon, looking down at him with a sad sort of smile. And something’s off about them, to be sure--they look twisted and withered and are their ears pointed? But, no, that doesn’t matter just now. All that matters is that Jon’s alive.

So Martin climbs to his feet and stares at Jon for just a moment before wrapping his arms around the other man. He just breathes in the scent of Jon, somehow still all paper and cigarette smoke despite the apocalypse.

Then he proceeds to kiss Jon within an inch of their life, because they both survived. Mostly. Sort of. He’s ignoring all the weirdness he feels, just now.

It’s Jon that breaks the embrace, which is rare; usually Jon is incredibly clingy when it comes to hugs. “There will be time for that soon enough, I hope,” they say. They take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Then their jaw drops.

“Your… your skin. And you…” They gesture to Martin’s face.

“My skin? What about my skin? What about my face?!” Martin eyes Jon and then his face falls. “Oh, God, do I look all old now??” Jon’s always looked older than they are, but some part of Martin still can’t quite believe that no, really, Jon loves him, and that part is somehow worried this might be an issue.

Not that he’s vain or anything, it’s just, he’s not sure he can pull off “younger than he looks” like Jon can.

“No,” Jon replies. “It’s… you’re… rather handsome. Tan, a bit slimmer. Your features are almost…” They pause, considering. “Yes, there is a decidedly… elven look to them. Your ears aren’t as pointed as mine, but they still point.” They indicate a nearby mirror.

Martin’s been so focused on Jon he’s barely noticed his surroundings. He’s already reaching up to feel at his ears, blinking, when he peers into the mirror. And there it is: his hair is red again, the touch of the Lonely gone almost entirely. He seems like he’s maybe a couple inches shorter, and he’s definitely slimmed down. His ears are slightly pointed, his eyes tilted a little differently, and his skin’s gotten bronzed like he’s gotten a tan.

It all clicks together in his mind, all at once. “...Oh. I’m a half-elf. Cross between a human and an elf. That’s… huh.” That’s odd, is what it is. He clears his throat and actually starts to look around. “So what’s going on…?”

“It seems our mission isn’t entirely over,” Jon replies, and points out something so obviously strange it’s a wonder Martin overlooked it thus far: a hovering cloak. And again as Martin takes it in, it all clicks in his head at once. The hovering cloak, the raven symbol on the same. The monochrome nature of everything but the figure of himself in the mirror. The balcony of the fortress overlooking the bleak landscape.

Martin's response is to yelp and grab Jon as he steps away from the floating cloak, dragging the other man a step or two back with him, because if Jon thinks Martin’s letting them out of his sight ever again they're sadly mistaken. Jon gets to stay right next to him for the rest of eternity.

In the meantime, his voice is speaking his realizations aloud as his poor brain catches up with reality. “The Raven Queen!!” A pause. “...The Shadowfell!!” A pause. “...Wait. Am I… dreaming? This… can’t be real.”

He remembers the poetry and fire in the darkness, yes, but… that can’t be real, either. For one thing, if they’re here then they should both be dead. Shouldn’t they?

The Raven Queen sounds amused when she speaks. “Ahh… you know of me, then.”

Jon turns to blink at Martin. “After what you saw this past year… you’re asking if something is real?”

“Well… I mean…!” Martin waves a hand to encompass drained colors and black sky and craggy peaks. “This is… Jon, this is… it’s from a game. A tabletop roleplaying game.” His cheeks heat. He doesn’t consciously think Jon will mock him for his hobbies, but it’s still a difficult thing to admit to. If nothing else, his mother used to gripe at him endlessly for being so fascinated by “fantasy worlds.”

Jon’s response is almost flippant; they merely nod. It certainly doesn’t seem to surprise them that Martin knows this.

The Raven Queen still sounds amused. “The Sage of Shadowdale had traveled to your world many times before. That was part of how I even knew to send… Jon there to begin with.”

Martin blinks at her rapidly. “...Come again?"

Jon blinks at her as well, “‘The Sage of Shadowdale?’ Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Elminster,” Martin puts in immediately, and waves a hand. “No, no, I get… now that I think about it… I mean, Ed Greenwood, the guy who wrote… well, ‘wrote’... the Forgotten Realms setting for Dungeons and Dragons, he would claim that these three wizards from different worlds visited him because they all had portals to Earth, and that’s where he learned all this stuff? And, I mean, it’s like… neat bit of world-building there, guy! It never seemed as daft as, say, Robert Ervin Howard claiming Conan actually visited him and being completely serious about it. But it’s always supposed to have been that the D&D worlds are just… other worlds on the Prime Material Plane. So, no, I guess… everything was real all along, except whatever wasn’t, and we’ll never really know which is which.”

He frowns. “No, I’m talking about ‘sending Jon there to begin with.’” He clutches Jon’s arm tighter and almost glares at the cloaked figure. “Has Jon been a shadow elf this whole damn time?!”

Jon sighs. “According to…” they gesture at the Raven Queen, “...her, yes. I have been one of these ‘shadar-kai’ for some time. She had restored me to being a high elf when I awoke, but you were dying and I…” They look away. “I couldn’t let that happen. So I… told her to siphon the vitality of my form and give it to you so that you’d live.”

“You WHAT?!” Such terrible fury overtakes Martin that he turns to Jon and actually shakes them slightly. Jon’s eyes widen, and they start to open their mouth like they want to reply, but Martin’s still barrelling forward. He’s shouting in the shorter man’s face, shouting so he doesn’t cry.

“What happened to ‘one way or another, together?’ What happened to ‘where you go, I go?’ You’re just… you’re just doing it all again, after… after everything… I mean… Annabelle was right, Jon, it worked, you heard them, didn’t you?! And now you just… you just… give up your life to…” He trails off, blinking. Oh. Oh.

This is the Shadowfell. Martin was dying. If he’d died here, then he wouldn’t have been able to go with Jon, because he’d have been stuck here serving the Raven Queen.

One way or another, together.

Why does “or another” always have to be something bad, though?

“You would have had to remain here, had they not,” the Raven Queen puts in, echoing Martin’s thoughts. “This way, you can go together. Which, I take it, was the point.” She was regarding Martin, the tilt of the cloaked head seeming thoughtful.

By the expression on Jon’s face, some of the things Martin said hit hard; there’s a flicker of guilt and remorse before they pull themself together, bring their composure back up. They nod. “Exactly. I was doing what I had to so that we could go together.”

Martin feels sheepish now. He doesn’t like yelling at Jon; his love already puts so much on their own shoulders, and Martin doesn’t like the feeling that he’s trying to overpower Jon to get what he wants. He’s always terribly aware that he’s taller and bigger and stronger.

So he smiles and says, with a little shrug, “Guess that explains the half-elf thing, actually. If you put your energy in me, then…” And then he realizes how that sounds and starts blushing really hard.

It seems to have worked; Jon smiles a bit. “Usually you were the one putting energy into me.” Their tone is nonchalant. “What’s the phrase, turnabout is fair play?”

Martin knows damn well Jon does not mean that in the way he’s taking it, because Jon just doesn’t really… do innuendo most of the time and it’s pretty obvious when they are. Nonetheless it makes him blush more and then he catches Jon’s grin widen and… wait, no, was that… was Jon trying to make him blush...?

Ugh, the man confuses him sometimes.

Jon turns back to the Raven Queen as if they said nothing at all (and infuriatingly they might just be unaware of how their comment could be interpreted and Martin just can't tell) and says, “So… what is it that we are supposed to do to help this world?”

“I thought you would never ask.” Is that sarcasm from the Raven Queen? It seems it might be, a little. “There is a great evil that will be rising soon, and I am sending you to restore the balance. If this evil is not stopped, all Toril will be destroyed.”

Martin’s still distracted by Jon’s maybe-not-purposeful innuendo, so he’s not thinking when he mutters, “Oh, that’s helpful. Cryptic knowledge instead of just ‘here’s what you need to do.’ Again.”

The Raven Queen just… looks at him, the glowing eyes inside the cowl unblinking.

Martin blinks and stammers, realizing just who he’s talking to. “Oh. Oh! I didn’t… I mean… uhh… I’m sorry, y-your… Majesty….” He tries bowing a little. It’s still sinking in. Actual demigoddess.

This seems to pacify the cloaked figure. It’s not flying at him and attacking him, at least.

Jon just nods. “Very well. I trust that… between Martin’s knowledge of this world and our combined intuition we shouldn’t have too much trouble figuring it out.” They pause, then say, “Are we to do this on our own or can others assist us?” They look to Martin. “Will others assist us?”

“Oh, we’ll probably be able to find, umm… adventurers and such.” There’s a kind of giddy excitement rising in Martin. They're talking to an actual demi-quasi-goddess queen and they're in the Shadowfell and they're about to go on adventures in Toril.

“There will be others who will assist you,” the Raven Queen says cryptically. She looks between them both, then turns. “Come this way. I have something to return to you, ‘Jon.’”

Martin frowns as they follow, and whispers to Jon, “I don’t like the way she says that, like you should have some other name.”

Jon whispers back, “Well… given my knowledge of elves is limited to Tolkien and other high fantasy… Jon doesn’t exactly seem very ‘elf-like.’” They give Martin a pointed look. “Does it sound elf-like to you?”

“N-no… not really… I mean it could be short for, umm…” Martin thinks. Hard. “Uhhh… no, I’ve got nothing.”

The Raven Queen moves on into the room beyond the balcony, past the table on which unappetizing food is laid, while firmly ignoring the mortal blather going on behind her. Something about her attitude and tone, her movements, indicates that she clearly expected to be doing this earlier, before Jon got all “save my boyfriend or else” and  “I’m mortal now deal with it” on her, and while she’s put up with all of it thus far she’s reaching the end of her patience.

There’s a dias behind the table, and near the dias there’s a stand on which sits, in a place of honor and reverence, a long sword. It is made of a black metal that seems to absorb the shadows around it rather than reflect the minimal light of the room. The same black metal constructs the cross guard and hilt. On the pommel is a gem, possibly a sapphire, that gives off the only reflective glint of the weapon. The scabbard is plain, if well made, and is stained a matte black color as well--having the same light absorbent quality as the weapon itself.

Jon stares at the weapon with a look of awe and steps forward, their hand outstretched. “This… this is mine…” It’s not a question. It’s the same sort of look they had when they looked at Jonah Magnus in the Panopticon, and yet somehow it doesn’t bother Martin as much as it did before. Then he realizes that it doesn’t bother him because it’s not quite the same sort of look. There’s no envy there; it’s just a recognition that yes, this thing Jon’s looking at is meant for them even if they didn’t know it until this moment.

“I’ve never fought with a blade in my life… at least… not that I remember, but this is… it’s mine.” Jon looks to the Queen. “May I?”

The Queen merely nods.

Martin finds himself gaping. Jon is actually an elf, and has a magic shadow sword. “...I must be dreaming,” he whispers.

Jon reaches out and takes the sword in their hand. “I know this weapon…” They look at Martin and a chuckle escapes them. It’s not as mirthful as it once was, but it’s something. “This… I know it. I don’t know where the knowledge comes from… but I can use this.” They look so right holding the sword, like it was a piece of them that had been missing and only now was the picture of Jon complete.

Martin can’t really help it. “You are .i hot right now,” he bursts out, and then blushes, because the weird shadow queen’s right there. What is he thinking?

A tinge of pink comes to Jon’s cheeks in response and they busy themself sliding the sword into its pitch-black scabbard as if to try to hide the reaction. “Thank you,” they say to the Raven Queen. “Truly. I hope that more… memories? Knowledge? Come in time. Perhaps when next we meet, I can be more cordial and… more as you anticipated I should be.”

The Raven Queen takes a moment to look at Martin and murmur, “Mmm, yes, likely Sune.”

Martin sputters and stands there, just… blinking. Sune is the goddess of beauty in Faerun, their version of Aphrodite or Venus, and sure he's red-haired, but he couldn't possibly serve her! He can’t shake the feeling that the Raven Queen said that just to shut him up.

The cloaked figure turns to Jon then. “Of course. You are to be forgiven for this entire encounter; you have had a difficult time.” She gestures. “Come. There is a place not too far from here where you may travel to the Material Plane. My servants will outfit you and then take you there.” A pause. “While you travel this realm, do not stray. The place you go is not remotely safe for the living, and only my protection will keep you from being sold as slaves or meat.”

Jon straps the sword over their shoulder, not seeming to care that it looks terribly out of place with their clothes. “We will not. Thank you again, for all your generosity.”

Then they grab Martin by the arm and follow the Queen deeper into the fortress.

Next Chapter

[varricmancer]

Intertwined | 3

*** Cross-posted on AO3 ***

Pairing: Farkas x F!OC

Summary: A child of Mara was a soul blessed and bound to it’s mate for all eternity. Elizabeth Williams is summoned to Mara as a lost soul, only she’s from modern America and her mate is somewhere in the wilds of Skyrim.

A/N: This is super short, I know, but I wanted to put out something for you guys. Things have been hectic in my life and I've been working 13+ hours six days a week for a while now so I'm pretty much in a constant state of exhaustion. I hope you're all staying healthy and safe. I'll try to have the next part out very soon!P.S. I know that in ESO they've said 'Hell' quite often, but that's always bothered me. Why would they call it hell? That is a Christian-based earth word, or whatever, and it just seemed strange to include it. So I'm fighting against the ESO writers lmao.

***

“Ralof, I think your friend here is finally awake!”

Elizabeth groaned as she came to and registered that she hurt everywhere. The worst of the pain seemed to be on her leg since she’d flexed it a little to try to move and the pain was sharp and agonizing.

“Easy there,” a woman’s voice eased her to awareness as she opened her eyes, meeting the blue ones of a blonde Nord woman leaning over her.

“Please don’t be frightened. My brother Ralof and your elf companion brought you here after you were attacked by the dragon. You’ll heal, but your leg suffered a little in the fall and your skin was badly burned. You will be well enough to walk in a couple of days, and then I suggest heading to a shrine to see if it will help.”

Elizabeth grimaced as she tried to respond and found her throat dry and sore.

“Ah, you must be thirsty. You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”

She accepted a wooden cup of water and tried to drink as gracefully as she could, despite her shaking hands and parched throat. When she finally had her fill, she handed the cup back to the woman sitting on the edge of the wooden bed.

Looking around, she tried to take stock of her situation. She was laid up in a rustic wooden bed, covered in what looked like a bunch of animal skins. The house was very warm and just as rustic as the bed - all wood and furs, with a huge fireplace taking up most of the space. It looked pretty much how she’d always imagined a witch's cottage would be like, with all the herbs and flowers hanging from the ceiling and potions lining the shelves.

She peeked at the woman in the bed with her, trying to get a good look without seeming rude. She was pretty enough, although years of living in the probably unforgiving northern climate had definitely left its mark, as well as a few scars that were probably smallpox if this place was indeed real. She imagined this must be Gerdur, meaning the dark elf had chosen to follow Ralof home to Riverwood.

The front door of the cabin opens and dirty Kurt - or Ralof, rather - stomps inside, smiling generously at her as he nears the bed and looks her over.

“Awake at last? You had us all worried for a moment there, girl. I’ve sent my nephew Frodnar to get Sundrose. He’s been helping the merchants with a task. He’ll be here soon.”

As though speaking his name had summoned him, Sundrose slammed the cabin door open and jogged to the bedside, seemingly unaware of the fact that he totally elbowed Ralof and Gerdur out of the way. He was panting as though he’d run the entire way and scanning her face frantically.

“Are you alright? Aware? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Elizabeth snorts at the Dark Elf. “None.”

He looks down at his hands as if he were amazed that they were still against his sides.

“Ah,” he cleared his throat. “Apologies. We weren’t sure you were going to make it for a moment. It’s been some time since anyone had experience with dragon wounds.”

“I’m a bit sore and my leg is throbbing like hell, but I think I’ll be okay.”

He looked momentarily confused, as though he was trying to figure out her meaning before he finally shrugged and sighed.

“That’s good. Very good. I’ve finished some tasks around here and made enough coin to get us to Whiterun as soon as you think you are able to travel. It’s not that far - perhaps three days if we make good time? Gerdur’s husband Hod has very kindly offered to drive us up there in his wagon to make it easier on your injuries.”

“Us? You’re taking me with you?” Honestly, she hadn’t really let herself think too much in-depth about where the hell she actually was, but her first instinct had told her the elf would simply leave her here to be Ralof’s problem and run off to be the Dragonborn.

“Well, yes. I...erm...could we perhaps be in private for a moment? I promise your belongings are safe, I merely wish to speak with my friend if I could?”

Gerdur glances between the two of them and waits for Elizabeth’s nod of affirmation before herding her brother towards the door.

“We’ll be right outside. Holler if you need us,” Gerdur says with a nod, closing the door softly behind her.

Sundrose sighs and settles more comfortably in his chair before turning that intense crimson gaze on her.

“Before we were captured, do you remember where you were?”

Elizabeth chewed her lip as she contemplated how much to tell the man. Would he believe her more about her talk of the future or being in Mara’s garden? Should she play it safe and say she’d just arrived from High Rock?

His full lips turned up on the side, a little dimple showing as he slowly grinned.

“Were you in an ostentatiously decorated garden? Perhaps speaking with a creature claiming to be Mara?”

“Yes!” Elizabeth exclaims, leaning towards him in excitement. “Were you there too? Are you... him ?”

“By ‘Him’ I assume you mean your soulmate?” He asks slowly, shrugging as he turns to stare at the wall in thought. He strokes his shadowed chin, humming.

“I...don’t know, to be quite honest. Not a phrase I like using very often. I was there with you - I remember feeling you, seeing flashes of your face and the face of someone else. I remember thinking that your soul felt...familiar. Which is a very odd thought to have about a soul. I would say yes based on that information alone, but there was another…”

“Another face, you said?”

He nods thoughtfully. “Like yours but different. I don’t know. It was very fogged over like Mara didn’t want me to get a good look. Perhaps a you from another life?” He shrugs. “At the very least, I know that when we were returned to ground that I immediately felt protective of you as soon as I saw you lying there unconscious. Before I could really think too much about it, the Imperials appeared and threw us in the wagon.”

“So all the evidence points to us being something. Maybe soulmates, but also maybe not?” Elizabeth huffs and flaps back against the wall. “This is so confusing. And a lot less romantic than I’d thought it would be to meet the future love of my life.”

He laughs, a low and smooth chuckle that was...elegant? Can laughs be elegant?

“Terribly sorry. At least there’s a chance you won’t have to deal with me then. I’m not a very romantic fellow to begin with, I’m afraid. The dramatics tend to become tedious after the first hundred years or so.”

Elizabeth’s jaw drops. She’d forgotten about the way races aged differently here. “How old are you?”

Sundrose quirks an eyebrow. “Terribly rude to ask that, little one, but I’ll tell you. I’m 214. Fairly young still, among my people. And of course, my soulmate has to be a human that is a veritable infant,” Sundrose drawls, his slight mischievous smirk softening the teasing words.

“Hey, I just turned 30! In human years, I’m ancient!”

“Forgive me, crone,” he mocked, bowing slightly.

Elizabeth snorted, then adjusted her aching leg with a sigh.

“When did you want to leave?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you think you can handle it. We need to warn the Jarl about the dragon, so as soon as can be arranged is preferable. If it’s much longer we’ll have to send someone ahead of us.”

She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “Let's go today.”

“Today?” he asked incredulously, “You just barely have regained consciousness. I hardly think you should be going on a journey at the moment.”

“No,” she shook her head. “The sooner we get there, the better. You need to talk to the Jarl, and I would like to get to a healer or one of those altar things. This hurts like hell.”

“You say that a lot. Hell. What is that?”

“Oh, its...like oblivion, I guess? It’s where bad people go when they die...or something. It’s what a lot of people believe. Never really believed in that stuff myself, but it makes a hell of a curse word,” she grins.

He looks at her thoughtfully for a few moments before he finally asks, “You’re not even from here, are you? Where did she take you from?”

And there’s the magic question.

“Apparently my soul is from here, but it was stolen? I’m still not quite clear on that. I grew up in Arizona, a state in America. On, well, planet Earth. A place that is...way far in the future and, like, on a whole ‘nother...universe? Plane? Realm? I don’t know. Very different from here, I can tell you that much.”

“And she just picked you up and deposited you in a strange land with just the clothes on your back to correct her own mistakes,” he added, his eyes hardening. “I despise the daedra,” he scoffs angrily.

“At least I’m not going into this completely blind, just, ya know, poor and homeless,” she chuckles. “In my world, Skyrim is a...tale? Legend? Not sure how to describe it to you, but I know the basic story of this land and what's to come.”

“Do you?” Sundrose responds, leaning back and looking at her curiously.

“Mhmm. In fact, I know that when you went to help Lucan get his claw back, you came across a wall. A wall that taught you a word in another language that you were somehow able to understand. You also found a tablet with this same language written on it.”

“I haven’t told anyone about that yet. I was going to wait and talk to the court wizard when we got to Whiterun. Your stories told you about me?”

She bit her lip, unsure of how much to divulge. “Yes, a bit. You’re about to save Skyrim, Sundrose.”

He stared at her with growing horror on his handsome face.

“Gods’ grief!”

***

[bladekindeyewear]

Bloggin’ bout HS^2′s second upd8 continued.  > (==>)

And it had felt so real, almost like he could have reached out and touched him--

--Yeah, the next page is gonna be BGDirk just standing there like I saw before I read the update, right?

> (==>)

> (==>)

Two pages. Close enough.

> (==>)

Hah!  Get fucked, Dirk.  (Even if you’re supposedly one of the better Dirks.)

> (==>)

Yep, all see-thru and everything.

DIRK: You passed out in a puddle of your own drool. And what the fuck is that on your face? JAKE: My face? What do you mean on my face? DIRK: The moustache, Jake. Who’s idea was that. JAKE: Oh! You dont like it? DIRK: I didn’t say that.

Oh come the fuck on.  He looks good in a mustache, Jane-influence or no Jane-influence.

DIRK: We’ve had this conversation before, dingus. I’m you. And I’m me. But I only exist because of your powers. The fact that I’m manifesting here, in the new universe, outside of a dream, is evidence in itself for just how absolutely boned you are.

Now what exactly do you mean by that last part?  How is this a sign of trouble?

--Is it because this Dirk thinks he’s needed?  And therefore shit will be going down?

DIRK: You’ve been a useless sack of shit for two decades. I’m here to kick your ass back into active duty.

...Hm.

I mean, Jake MIGHT be able to help stop this stupid goddamn war, but this IS Dirk trying to help him, so...

JAKE: And what side am i supposed to be fighting on? for jane or against her? DIRK: Against her. Obviously. What the fuck, dude.

Pffff.

JAKE: But you were the one who wanted her to run in the first place! You wrote her bloody speeches! DIRK: Yeah, I did. And every single one of them kicked ass. I wanted Jane to be the democratically elected president. Not a cake-slinging Jeff Bezos with a great rack.

Pfff.  I mean, you didn’t do a great job the first way, either.  It’s heavily implied things in Canon-land were about to go to shit too.

Not as FAR to shit, nor as quickly, but still to shit.  So, really, how DIFFERENT is this from the way you wanted it done, Dirk?  How can you claim this isn’t half YOUR fuck-up too?

DIRK: Don’t worry about it. The point is, you have a chance to make a difference. You’re in the perfect position to infiltrate her operation.

Oh hell no.  Don’t send him back in THERE you utter horse’s ass!  How could THAT be good for his mental health!? What the fuck about Tavros?!?

DIRK: That’s horseshit and we both know it. Jane would take you back in a second. She loves you.

I think Jane’s definition of “taking him back” would be a bit broader than his body or soul could fucking afford.

> (==>)

Eugh.  You really liked the Condesce’s way of doing things right down to her style, huh?  To think you used to love the spoon.  Is that a fucking spork?  Is that zilly Battlespork your go-to weapon now?

Also, it took me a moment to realize those green and orange silhouettes were Jake and BGDirk.  I was a little like “how did Rose get here?!?”.

> (==>)

Have I mentioned how good all this art is?  So much attention being paid to the use of color, to making everything look so soft and streamlined?

Looks like she’s going in for at LEAST a hug.  And the art style might be mercifully light on showing us indulgent details of just how asset-laden Jane is supposed to be.  Shots of Jake’s manly bod aside, something in me doesn’t like the traditionally-sexualized stuff pushed like that in a canon that’s been light on it for so long...

> (==>)

Oh, that... THAT looks fake.  Or like, she’s about to turn around and happily wail on his ass or something.

JANE: Boo hoo hoo! Oh, Jake! Something awful has happened! JAKE: It--it has? You mean more awful than usual? JANE: The opposition has taken Tavros, Jake. They’ve finally shown their true colors. I knew it was only a matter of time before they attacked our family directly!

.....Ah.  Well, that explains it.  She’d never cry like that about HIM returning AFTER STEPPING OUT ON HER.

It’s then that Jake realizes that Jane isn’t mad because she’d never realized he was gone.

Poor pages, huh?  All their most dramatic gestures always undercut.

...It seems like we might see Candy kind of resolved in less of a fucked-up worldstate after all, at this rate?

She seems to have forgotten that she’d been cross with him the last time they met, because now that Gamzee is gone, there’s no one left to talk to.

It’s true. Gamzee’s absence always improves things.

> (==>)

All of it is made worse by the occasional wry glint in her eye, or moment of self-deprecation in the slant of her mouth. It reminds him of the Jane he used to know. Or the Jane he thought he used to know.

Ambition is a hell of a thing.  Seems like she’s drunk of it almost as deeply as Prince Dirk.  I’d imagine this could be a pretty consistent thing with really active Life players when they get actual power, huh?  The way it just gathers to Life players in all its forms -- power over others, status, wealth -- it’s easy to start to leverage it in ways that constitute abuse of power over others from a Riddle perspective.

At first Dirk stands at Jake’s elbow, a one-ghost support staff, before he appears to lose interest in Jane’s rant and wanders off across the office, reading the spines of books and spending way too long staring at a startlingly phallic piece of installation art,

--PLEASE let us see it.

, the provenance of which Jake doesn’t know, but could hazard a guess it wore a codpiece.

Nope, never mind. Interest lost.

> (==>)

Then he settles on Jane’s desk, propping his ghost butt there and sort of just...well. Here’s a picture of what he does.

Um.

Where is this going?

> (==>)

Oh, so the BEST option, then.  :D

Okay. That’s a bit of an exaggeration.

Boooooo.

> (==>)

--Alright, forgiven.

he’s thoroughly exhausted from attempting to pay attention to his supervillain wife while trying not to look at the crotch of a ghost man from his brain.

...Okay, hold up.  BGDirk, are you trying to steer him into doing this for self-indulgent, non-comedic purposes? Or is this a bit of Prince Dirk in there?  (I mean... I can’t definitively say Jake wouldn’t have wanted this.)

And I’m still wondering how all of this is going to be relevant.  IF it’s going to be relevant.  Despite promises to the contrary that are seemingly being ignored.

> (==>)

DIRK: All according to keikaku.

Fuck you.

JAKE: i really didnt think id fall off the wagon so quickly. I dont think being here is good for my emotions to be honest. DIRK: Yeah, probably not. But that’s okay. They don’t matter. JAKE: Oh.

Yeah, Dirk, you suck at this more than you know.  This ain’t going to go as well as you “hope” I don’t think.

DIRK: Don’t know anything about stiff lips, dude. But that’s not what I mean. It’s not because you’re a man. You’re a god. JAKE: Oh right. That. DIRK: The world comes first, even at the expense of all your relationships and personal happiness. That’s what being a hero means. JAKE: I guess...i never really thought about it like that.

You’re also not guaranteed to be fucking right, you know.

There are definitely dichotomies where what was best for the world wasn’t best for the person, so far, and vice versa in Homestuck.  But Dirk’s taking his anime-flavored principles as gospel as usual, and ignoring, oh I dunno, the impact of the heart in all of this.  Some people, ESPECIALLY JAKE and other Pages so far, CAN’T operate at their best until they’re at least reasonably healthy and sure of themselves, and investments to that effect are essential to letting them slowly realize their full potential.  Brain Ghost Dirk is likely making the same goddamn mistake he made with his overbearing Dirkbot back on Jake’s island.

> (==>)

DIRK: Think what you want about Jane, but at least she realizes that none of you can ever be normal, and she never bothered to try. Can it really be a god-complex if you’re actually a god? DIRK: People like us don’t get happy endings.

...Yup.  This is the fucked-over part of Dirk’s worldview coming in full play, here.  And he believes in it so strongly that he couldn’t even fucking leave NON-CANON alone anymore.  Fuck.

JAKE: Thats bleak dirk i dont think i could possibly believe that!

Mmmhmm.

DIRK: Yeah. That’s probably more a Dirk thought than a Jake one. I told you, it’s hard to tell sometimes. JAKE: Is...is that really how dirk felt the whole gosh darned time?

Mmmhmm.

> (==>)

Last page of the upd8.  Well... all I can say is, it’s a good thing he’s a fucking ghost here.  And half Jake, at that.  At least that can limit the damage.  Hopefully giving Jake just enough of a kick in the doing-something direction without being so overbearing that he makes things worse, making for a balance of...

...Wait.

Wait, is that why we’re here?

Maybe that finally makes some sense of all this.  Of this cut, of this small violation of that last sentence in Meat, of--  ah, yeah, I might be on to something here!  Only maybe, but still--!

We’re quite possibly bearing witness to a realm of influence where, through measures outside of his control, Dirk has a balanced impact.  Where this same ideology of his, tempered by Jake’s hopeful mindset and Dirk’s inability to take direct action, might just manage to make things better and actually make everyone happier by the end, while solving Earth C’s fucked-up Candyland state at the same time.  It’s possibly to show the readers (through the lens of a Hope player specializing in positive possibility) that Dirk, had he been restrained, COULD have had a positive impact, even at the same time that we’re shown Prince Dirk at his soul’s most overblown and heinous.

And, if we want to be optimistic..... perhaps this’ll show Dirk, too?

Canon and Non-Canon may not “meet” again.  But that doesn’t stop Dirk, via this fragment of his multiverse-spanning soul, from seeing Non-Canon.  From seeing how well things COULD have worked out, had he held back.  And if we keep cutting like this -- back and forth between the “real” story and these events in Candyverse -- perhaps the moment at which Brain Ghost Dirk realizes what he’s accomplished, realizes how much better things are because he could hold back, will coincide at the end with Prince Dirk finally, belatedly, realizing just how fucked his plan was, and understanding at the very, very end why he has to fucking die?

THAT would be interesting.

I guess we’ll see?  Talk to y’all next upd8.

[wickednerdery]

Title: Hoarfrost Hel: Spellbound Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Thor & Tony Stark (& Mutant!OC) Rating: Teen Summary: “Loki...Is it a person or item?” Notes: This is back to when Loki was taken away here. This is the second part of what’s shaping up to be a legit trilogy (the first is FrostBitten) - the master list is here. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece itself - which starts Thor’s main story - is actually tame aside from some yelling, cursing, and poor Thor moments. Still, for consistency and length, it gets a “Read More”.

It is Odin who tricks Thor away from his brother, leaving Loki unprotected and easily taken. It is Odin who induces forgetfulness and spreads it through Asgard like a poison. The king works his magic to make it grow so that throughout the realms, in time, Loki might be forgotten completely. Like Hela before his adopted son would become nothing but a story, a mere fantasy; no one and nothing true. Odin would put distance between himself, his family, and his unfortunate error once again to save his pride and crown.

By the time Thor returns to the rock there is nothing there but smashed rubble and the faint sense of urgency. He’d come to the edge of the grounds for some reason, an important task, but the answers are all behind a fog. Earnest eyes scan for answers, for questions, something beyond kicked up and bloodied dirt.

His mother’s lullaby hits his ears and he turns back, up, to the palace. With placid face and knowing smile Frigga hums and, as Thor watches her, she changes before him. Deep blue dress turns green and gold. Long blond hair smooths into shoulder-length black and her whole form changes. The woman looks wholly recognizable, yet Thor cannot place the man she’s become. “You must find him, Thor. Save your brother. Protect Loki.”

“Loki...” Thor repeats the name heard only in his mind; it feels right. Real. He looks around, as if he might find this Loki nearby, before looking back up to catch sight of his mother walking back into the palace. “Loki....Loki...Loki...” The god repeats the name over and over, keeping it foremost in his mind, as he hurries to Heimdall’s observatory. “I must find a Loki, what can you see, Heimdall?”

The man narrows his eyes, ticks head slightly. “Loki? I’m afraid I do not know this word. Is it a person or item?” If he has a clearer idea of what he’s looking for, perhaps he can find it.

“I...” Thor clung to the name, but forgot its meaning. He tries to recall his mother (this Loki is tied to her, is it not?), then smiles. “I believe it is a being.”

Heimdall nods, closes eyes to concentrate, but there is nothing. Only tenuous threads he cannot weave into anything substantial and even those fray before his very mind’s eye. “I am sorry, Thor, but I can find nothing.” It was so very usual, very strange. “Perhaps it’s something to do with your time on Midgard?”

“...Perhaps...”

“Shall I send you there in search of answers and this lost...thing.” Heimdall himself’s already forgotten what they’re in search for.

“Yes, I shall go to Stark’s.” He cannot say why he picks Tony except he’s the smartest man Thor knows of on Midgard. And, if this...Loki...was a dangerous thing Tony would most certainly be prepared and ready for battle beside him.

“Very well, my prince, I shall send you directly,” Heimdall bows his head and, in a moment’s flash, Thor is at the end of Stark’s long landing pad at The Avenger’s Tower.

Not even leaving his lands can stop the disintegration of Thor’s memory though; not even reaching Midgard can protect him from his own father’s magic. By the time he reaches Stark, lounging on a deck chair, his face’s fallen to confusion. ...What has he come to ask again?

Tony’s brows rise in alarm, then fall in the wait for Thor to speak. “You alright there, Point Break?”

“I’m sorry, my friend.” Thor knows he needs help, but the reason, the trouble, is fogged from him. It’s something distant, unattainable, but very true and very real. “I...I came to request your aid...only now I’ve forgotten why.”

“So you came here to ask for my help...” Tony’s stands, examines his friend more closely. “But can’t remember with what?”

"I cannot,” Thor confesses with a sigh, running hand through hair, twisting hammer in the other. He can remember years, centuries. He has a god’s memory, how can he forget something he is certain recently occurred?!

“You hit your head on the Bifrost or something?”

Eyes fall to despair. “No.”

“Uh....huh...” He didn’t think gods could get amnesia, yet here was Thor, a god, standing all amnesiac before him. “Look, buddy, how ‘bout we go inside, have a drink, and see if we can’t figure this out, yeah?”

“Very well, my friend.”

Tony lets Thor follow as his mind begins to gather what little facts there are and formulate theories. Whatever is going on, it’s powerful enough to mess with a god’s mind. That said, Thor seems of sound mind and, potentially, with solid recall aside from whatever he needs help with. So what are they looking at here? Injury? Infection? Something else entirely? Tony skips the bar in the penthouse for the one down in his workshop and let’s Thor settle on a nearby chair as he pours for both of them - definitely need a drink or two before opening whatever can of worms this is.

“I adjusted the coding and cleared out the spare bugs from your latest suit, Stark.” The voice itself is almost robotic, but Thor sees clearly the being is flesh and blood. Back to them, hunkering down over a series of computers, he catches feminine eyes in the reflection of one of the screens. “That Thor?”

“Yeah,” Tony tips back his first drink, pours his second, as Thor takes his first. “Lynk, this is Thor, Thor,” he points to the person’s back. “Lynk with a Y...my tech assistant.” Pepper will always run most of his stuff, but Lynk has certain, unique, abilities that makes her utterly invaluable to him in his work.

Thor smiles. “Greetings, fair maid.”

“Yeah...No.”

Thor’s face falls. “No?”

Lips lift, but focus remains on the computers. “I’m not a fair maid, Mr Odinson. I’m just Lynk.”

“You may call me Thor, if you wish.”

“Okay then, Thor. I’m still Lynk.”

Thor looks to Tony, unsure, but Tony just shrugs and finishes his second drink. “Okay, so this thing you need help with...”

“Yes?”

“Let’s do process of elimination.”

“Very well.”

“It have anything to do with Earth?”

“...Not directly, I don’t believe...”

“Asgard then?”

“Maybe.”

“You personally?”

“…I...in a way, perhaps?”

“Family maybe?”

Thor’s pause is especially long, his heart and mind arguing for an accurate answer. “I...I believe so.”

“Parents?”

“They are not the issue...but maybe connected to it?” His mother turned into it, hadn’t she? Yes, yes she had, but...but Thor cannot recall what she’d turned into anymore.

Tony sighs, now presuming the whole thing a giant waffling by the god. “Fuck. if it’s Loki just say so, Thor. I’m still unlikely to help, but at least I’d admire the boldness of asking directly.”

“Wha-? Who...Who is...Loki?” And why did it sound so familiar and yet not at the same time?

“Loki, also known as Loki Laufeyson or Loki Odinson, is the God of Mischief and listed as a top-tier intergalactic terrorist by S.H.I.E.L.D.. His attempts to take over Earth resulted in the destruction of Manhattan and countless deaths. Captured by The Avengers Initiative he was turned over to his brother, Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, to be returned to Asgard where his punishment would be set by the King of Asgard, Odin Allfather.” The young woman’s turned to them both, face showing a mix of concern and interest. “You can’t remember your own brother?”

She is slight, pale, with spiked, jet black, hair and many bits of metal in her face...Thor cannot recall seeing another like her on Midgard. He smiles in spite of his current predicament. “You know him?”

“Of him,” Lynk clarifies. “I was lecturing in Boston when he came to New York, but I watched the news. Question is, why don’t you?”

“Maybe it’s Loki himself doing this?” Tony offers. “It’s not beyond him, right? Take out his brother, escape, rally some troops, come back at Earth again.”

“You’re making assumptions without basis,” she counters flatly.

“My basis is I know the guy. I’ve seen what he can do, first hand.”

“Why give his brother amnesia then send him in your direction?”

“Distraction? Shits and giggles? How should I know.”

Lynk’s eyes switch to Thor. “We need more data.”

Thor has no issue with basic or advanced memory tests, brain scans show no clear injury or disease, and nothing can be found in his blood that would suggest a cause for his amnesia. Both Tony and Lynk remain stuck, unsure what to test for next, as Thor lays on the table looking up at both of them.

“Do we know why I’ve forgotten what I’ve forgotten?” Again Loki’s existence has slipped from his mind, but not the urgency of the need to help, to get help.

“No,” Tony sighs; Thor frowns deeply. “But I’m starting to guess some kind of magic, which leads us back to Loki.”

“Who?”

“Are you sure you actually need help, Thor? Or do you just...feel like you need it?”

“I need help, of that I’m certain.”

Lynk looks down. “With...or for...your brother, Loki, yeah?”

The fog thickens. “I…cannot recall.”

Tony rolls eyes in frustration, convinced this is some elaborate trick by the God of Mischief. He wants no part of it; better to hunker down, fortify, with backup plans for when Loki’s true scheme is ultimately revealed. “This is probably all just a big fucking hoax.”

“It is not a hoax!” Thor flies up, roars his own frustration, as sparks crack across the metal table. The need to accomplish a goal he cannot recall has settled deep and sure in his heart even if his mind continues to betray him.

“Woah, hey there!” Tony’s thumb discreetly goes to his suit’s activation button as he and Lynk both jump back. “I don’t think you’re tricking me.”

“You think another is tricking us all,” Thor states firmly, hammer held out as if ready to crash. “I am not a fool, Stark, I know my own heart!”

“I might know someone who can help, Thor,” Lynk speaks up quickly, hoping to both placate and distract as she feels the machines around them shiver with the herself and Tony.

The storm in the god dies and he turns as hope blooms once more. “Truly?”

“He might be able to figure out what you can’t remember or, at the very least, maybe why you can’t remember.” She looks to Tony, who’s finally beginning to breathe again. “If it’s a trick by Loki, then you might know what he’s up to and, if it’s not...” She smiles at Thor. “Then maybe we’ll know how to help.”

Honest trouble or not, Tony had no interest in helping Loki. He still woke up in the middle of night, sweaty and short of breath, thanks to that asshole. Best not to piss of his friend, the god, though. “Sure, if you know someone who’s willing. Can’t hurt to try, right?”

“Right.”

Thor grins. “Take me to him now, fair Lynk.”

I legit feel bad writing Thor like this...in part because I know he already gets a bad wrap as sorta being the “slow on the uptake” one and I don’t think he is. That said, Odin’s clouding his - and everyone else in Asgard’s - mind from remembering Loki so it’s not like I can have Thor just putting it all together, haha! Frigga only does because she’s very powerful in magic herself. Lynk is a mutant - though there’s only a hint of her powers shown in this - and will be important to Thor going forward so...hope you like, lol!  (And, damn, I’m prod of myself for getting two out relatively quick after the holidays so go me, haha! ^_^)

(Gifs found on Google, then combined by me)

Tagged: @succumb-to-your-king @chibiyanai @wadeyouwitch @creedslove @lady-crowned-with-stars @moonfaery @annievvv7  @ladyfluff @holykryptonitekitten @lokilvrr @janebrownnie @lokis-little-kitten @alexakeyloveloki @theangelsfightwithdevils @the-blue-tiefling @lokis-lady-death @dangertoozmanykids101 @prometheasmother @vethrvolnir @wintertink @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild @starscreamloki @judas-nipples @hiddles-rose  @the-lady-witchitery @galaxies-inside-my-head @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession @endlessstairway @lanabanana-86 @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981 @lovekrystina @madoka73 @lokikingofasgardslover713 @partiallyinthecloset @ultrarebelheart  @gravitational-anomaly @manip-loki @my-world-of-imagines @lowcarbgem  …Think that’s everyone from FrostBitten, if you want on or off, just lemme know! (Strike-throughs are those Tumblr refuses to tag properly)

[furtheradvofsanta]

Santa Claus Letter 2018

So for years, starting in the 1920s, JRR Tolkien would write letters to his children as Father Christmas, including fanciful drawings and tales of FC and his friend, the North Polar bear, exploding the Northern Light gunpowder or fighting goblins.

Upon the birth of my own nephew a few years ago, I decided I would steal this idea. Even though he is only a few years old, nevertheless I composed a letter for him from Santa Claus. Theoretically, I will continue to do this, making the letters longer and more intricate as he gets older until he decides they’re stupid and that they should stop.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the skill for drawing or fancy lettering that Tolkien did, so I just had to type it up. Maybe future letters can include drawings.

This one is way late and the stores are all full of Valentine’s stuff by now, but I still haven’t seen the neph for Christmas yet, so this got put off a little in favor of other holiday stuff. I hope you will forgive. This year I decided to do a bit of a riff on one of the most famous parts of Tolkien’s Father Christmas letters, I guess because it amused me.

Anyway, I thought I would share it with you here under the cut (even though it does give away some of my Santa Claus secrets!). Feel free to reblog this, or if you want, to use it as a template and alter it for use with a child you know and love, but please do not republish this without my permission. Thankssss.

You can read 2015′s letter here, 2016’s letter here, and 2017′s letter here.

Santa’s Workshop Beyond the Riphean Mountains Beyond the North Wind True North Pole December 22, 2018

My dearest [name],

Four Christmases! It almost sounds like a movie. By now all of the usual Christmas routine must be old hat for you. You know all the steps: hang your stocking, put up a tree, deck the halls, leave out cookies and milk (or oranges!), open presents, roller skate to church at midnight, all of it! (My apprentice Pete, who is an expert in all things Christmas, is reading over my shoulder and he says I am mistaken about that last one, with the rollerskating. He says that is what they do in Venezuela, which is a country in South America, and not something they do in [state]. My mistake! I have so many children to take care of that sometimes it is hard to remember what they like to do at Christmas. Rollerskating sounds fun, though.)

I hope you have had a good year and are excited about Christmas. I will do my best to fill your stocking and your Christmas tree with all the things you want this year, because you have, as always, been very good. If I make a mistake, however, and you get something you don't want, like a jar full of dirty socks or a doll that makes stinky burps in your face, that is because it has been a very strange year this year here at the North Pole.

We don't get many uninvited guests here at the True North Pole. For one thing, it's very hard to find. Many people use the wrong map or compass and end up at places that they call the Magnetic North Pole or the Geographic North Pole. Those places don't even really have a pole! Ridiculous. If you really want to find the True North Pole, with my workshop and the real red and white striped pole, you have to know where to look. All children know in their hearts where the True North Pole is; most adults have forgotten.

To really find your way here, you must pass through the Riphean Mountains, which are also hard to find on most maps. Some people come to the Riphean Mountains because they have heard they are full of gold. This is true; the mountains themselves are full of gold that could be mined, but the caves within are also full of the vast hoards of gold that belong to our friends the griffins. Some of that gold is in the form of coins that come from us at the workshop. Did you know that for much of the year the antlers of our magic reindeer are covered in gold? It's true; it's been that way since the time of their oldest ancestor thousands of years ago. But they shed the gold casing before Christmas and that's why you don't usually see them that way. We take the gold that they shed and turn it into coins, some of which we give to Lunicursor, the king of the griffins, partly as a show of friendship, and partly to repay him for the service he does for us in bringing us broken toys he finds while flying around so that we can repair them and find new homes for them.

Anyway, gold hunters who make their way to the Riphean Mountains will find that it is very dangerous, not only because of the many griffins who make their home there, but also due to the one-eyed monsters who are constantly at war with the griffins for the gold. The sight of either a giant, greedy one-eyed beast or a host of winged, beaked, taloned lions is usually enough to scare off even the most intrepid of treasure hunters, so as I said, we don't receive many unexpected visitors.

That's not to say we never get them, however. Did you know there is a Christmas dragon? Well, there is, but he's probably not what you would expect. He doesn't look much like the grand and scary dragons in storybooks. Instead this dragon, who is called the Badalisc, looks more like a very large and very long furry worm, with striped fur, two little horns like goat horns, glowing red eyes, and a very large chomping mouth. Normally he makes trouble for the people in a valley in northern Italy, but some years ago, he managed to make his way to the workshop. All woods in the world are connected if you know where to walk, so he must have found the right spot in his valley to emerge into the silver fir forest around the workshop. At any rate, he made us a great deal of trouble, chomping away at all our Christmas treats, but fortunately, as I said, my apprentice Pete knows all about Christmas, and so he knew how we could trap him.

The Badalisc, it turns out, can be lured out of hiding by beautiful women and entranced by music. The first duty was performed by Mrs. Claus and some of our braver elf women, who stood at various places around the forest until the Badalisc was found. Then Pete's younger brother Music Pete played a tune on a pipe and drum that hypnotized the great beast. Once the dragon was frozen place, the Krampus and some of the other friendly monsters who live up here were able to wrestle him to the ground and tie him up.

One of the things the Badalisc does at Christmas back in his Italian valley is compose a poem that says mean things about everyone in the village and hurts their feelings. He tried to do that to us, but as it happens, we have our own master poet here named Rhyme Pete (all of Pete's brothers are also named Pete) who himself wrote a poem about how the dragon was hurting other people's feelings and that he needed to be more considerate. The Badalisc felt ashamed after that, but to cheer him up and to show there were no hard feelings, Pete's brother Chef Pete made the Badalisc a big bowl of his favorite food, salami and polenta (which is kind of like fancy grits, and very common in Italy). Afterwards, we had our friend the woodsman Belsnickel take the Badalisc back home.

That was a number of years ago, and things have mostly been fairly peaceful since. Not this year, though. This year we got far more than one unwanted guest. But before I tell you about that, however, I have to tell you about a very special tree.

Picture the biggest tree you've ever seen. Could you see the top of it? Did it stretch far into the sky? Did its branches reach far out over the ground, casting shadows, inviting you to climb? Well, picture a tree much, much bigger. A tree big enough that whole worlds could hang on it like Christmas ornaments. This is the World Tree, and in its branches rest the Nine Worlds. This is not the same as the nine planets, like Jupiter and Mars (Mrs. Claus is reading over my shoulder now and she says that there are only eight planets. My mistake! I don't visit other planets very frequently, though I have been to Mars a few times and I visit my friend the Man in the Moon as often as I can. Maybe if there turn out to be children on Neptune or Saturn, I'll send Pete out there to deliver gifts. I think he'd like that), but rather other realms where different magical creatures live. The Nine Worlds include the Giants' Home, the Light Elves' Home, the Dark Elves' Home (where our workshop elves come from), the World of Mist, the World of Fire, and, of course, Earth, where we live.

The branch of the World Tree that holds up the Earth runs right through the center of the planet like the top and bottom of a globe, and the tip of it pokes out at the very top, the true top, of the world. This is what we have carved and painted into the shape and color of the famous North Pole. The other thing you need to know about the World Tree is that at the base of it is a whole army of little gremlins who spend most of the year trying to cut the World Tree down, hoping to destroy all Nine Worlds.

Normally what happens is that on the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, these gremlins make their way up to Greece and make trouble for all of the twelve days of Christmas. They will climb into people's homes through the chimney and start breaking furniture, or gobbling up Christmas dinner, or spitting in food, and just generally scaring the people inside. Sometimes they will jump on a person's back and make them dance until they get really tired. They are, as you can see, very bothersome pests to have around.

Well, this year, instead of going to Greece, some of these gremlins decided to climb up the World Tree to see what they could find. Coming to the very tip of the branch that holds the Earth, they came out at the North Pole, and very soon we had a problem. They had made their way into the workshop and were breaking toys and decorations and eating all the delicious cookies and candies we were making for good children. Even the Krampus and the other friendly beasts weren't of much use against them. Although our furry friends are quite large, strong, and fearsome, all their strength was no good against these swarms of scurrying imps that they couldn't catch. We were very worried, because if they had made their way down into the elves' toy factory, they could have done damage to the powerful forges we have down there, which are fueled by very potent energy from within the Earth. If the forges had been damaged, they might have exploded, destroying the whole workshop! We would have had to rebuild and we might not have had Christmas until July or August, which I think we can agree is far too late to have Christmas. (You might have heard of Christmas in July, but usually that's in addition to regular Christmas, not instead of it.)

Fortunately, the gremlins never made their way to the forges, because we have Pete, expert in all things Christmas. He knew that the gremlins could be distracted by their love of counting, so the elves offered them all the counting toys they could find or quickly cobble together. Unfortunately, usually the goal of this is to distract the gremlins until the sun comes up and they turn to stone, and at this time of year the sun doesn't come up at all at the North Pole! We needed another solution. People in Greece often drive off the gremlins by putting a special Christmas log in their fireplace and burning it. The gremlins can't stand the smell, so they run away. I don't know much about the special plants of Christmas, but fortunately I don't have to, because that is the specialty of my wonderful and brilliant wife, Mrs. Claus. She knew exactly the kind of wood we would need, and soon every fireplace in the workshop was smoking away with these logs that the gremlins hate, which sent them scrambling.

In Greece, the way they finally make these gremlins go away after the twelve days of Christmas is that the local priest will bless the water in the rivers, ponds, springs, and so on all around. The gremlins cannot stand the blessed water, and so they will flee back to the World Tree. There aren't any rivers or lakes at the North Pole, but there is very very much snow, which as you know is just made of frozen water. I was able to take my old bishop's staff from my time as Saint Nicholas and bless all the snow from here to the Riphean Mountains. This sent all the gremlins scurrying like they had burned their hands on the stove back down the World Tree. Hopefully by the time they get back down to the trunk, the tree will have fully healed itself and they'll have to begin their chopping all over again.

And so, as I said before, if you get something very strange for Christmas, like a doll with three arms and no head, this is likely the handiwork of gremlins, who we just drove out yesterday. We only have a few days to get everything right, so I hope you get everything you want. However, if what you want for Christmas is to have a wonderful family who loves and cares for you very much, I can promise you that you will have that this and every Christmas without fail.

See you soon!

Your dear friend, Santa Claus

[loquaciousquark]

Critical Role Wrap-Up Tell-All, Summary Post

Missed the first few minutes, but here we go! New campaign starts Jan. 11! No episode next week for Christmas.

First round of questions: Episodes 1-23: The Underdark.

They trusted Clarota more than Kima because the girls were super proud of finding him and they liked the underdog story of befriending the cast-out. Travis brings up writing “I don’t trust Clarota” five weeks running.

Matt designed the entire duergar city around the stronghold (including social encounters) that they missed. They also saw a shimmering portal to the Far Realm that they could have used but bypassed.

Matt had multiple layers for the actual pyramid he’d envisioned as a dungeon crawl, which the players completely bypassed by flying up & dropping a giant on top of it.

Re: Vax’s insight check on Keyleth: the DM said that Keyleth seemed unsure, scared, and cut off from the surface. Liam found that was the first time in the entire campaign he didn’t feel Vax questioning Keyleth’s decisions. This may have been the beginning of the crush. (Sidebar: Marisha is wearing a slate blue dress, gold heels, and stockings, and looks stunning.) 

The Earth Ashari visions occurred right after Keyleth killed the kid in terms of plot. She was having a hard time with magic & spells out of fear, and Marisha used it as a catalyst to have her come to terms with the costs of inaction. “You figure it out or you die.”

None of the players felt there was much of a change in their characterizations in transferring from the home games to the show. This is also the point they switched to Vox Machina instead of the SHITS. Taliesin feels they would have done this in universe even without the show; Laura felt it was driven by the knowledge they would be streaming shortly.

Matt: “It would have had to have been a lot of work and roleplaying” to get Clarota to turn on the Elder Brain, but it was not impossible. Laura: “He’s Hugh! From Star Trek. :(”

Percy flashed his name so much in the beginning in an effort to put out feelers for information. Matt points out that what happened to the de Rolos was kept very quiet outside of Whitestone--the Briarwoods circulated a rumor that the de Rolos had gotten ill and died and their close friends had taken over. Percy would have been assumed to be a distant relative if recognized at all. “Who knows the name of the royal family of Nova Scotia?”

Ashley wanted Pike to be stronger after she died so that she could offer more to the fights than just healing. She felt that spending time on The Broken Howl would have improved her strength. (Brian tells us that Ashley lived on a boat for a while as a kid and knows her way around ships, which surprises some of the cast too.)

Percy had to make his bullets (as opposed to Vex having to buy arrows) because bullets don’t exist in this world. Vex also bought a thousand arrows right before the show started and put them in the bag of holding, and Matt was glad not to have to track it.

Liam thinks the real feelings for Keyleth may have started with the whisper, but does remember intending to keep it very very quiet up until Vax almost died in the Briarwoods arc.

Grog has no idea where/who his mother is. In the herd, you love who you love, have a kid, and teach the kid to fight, and he did not care about her existence until he met Pike and learned what a nurturing relationship could be like. 

Matt forgot Grog’s last name was Strongjaw because they didn’t use last names much in the home game. That his dad’s name was Stonejaw was a complete coincidence that wasn’t put together until much later.

One of the members of the Arcana Pansophical was the one who put out the contract on the rakshasa. The idea was that they were working on a portal that connected to the Nine Hells and needed parts for the ritual (either not understanding or caring about the cycle of revenge).

Matt already had the Kima/Allura relationship in his mind from the second session ever in the home game. He had envisioned a past possible fling, but the Underdark arc allowed them to rekindle their relationship. He had no idea that they would become so beloved in the fandom.

Marisha had no idea that Keyleth’s antlers would become so iconic. In the home game, she had an undescribed circlet that was the last relic from her mother, and Kit Buss was the one who drew it as antlers. Kit also created Vex’s feathers, and everyone wove them backwards in time to create them. Kit also created Percy’s four-lens glasses.

Matt designed the Thunderbrands to be allies in the journey in the Underdark, including sending a Thunderbrand family mage along with them--there was a lost family member they were supposed to find. (Instead, VM attacked their wards with magic and Scanlan snuck inside while invisible for no reason, so that plot thread died.) They did find the necklace that belonged to this person. 

When Ioun was wounded during the Calamity, her followers had to go into hiding (including Osysa, who is apparently quite old). Matt envisions them as equivalents to modern-day truth societies that emerge, disseminate truth, and go into hiding again. The Slayer’s Take is a cover for this society.

Matt declines to divulge the location of the other Horn of Orcus, as it still exists in the world. :O

CR Stats Break! 10,819 total rolls throughout the campaign, 548 total natural 20s, 497 natural 1s. Most natural 20s: Vax with 107, Percy with 104. Most natural 1s: Vex with 76, Vax with 61. Travis gets great delight out of Laura’s dice’s betrayal.

Episodes 24-48: The Briarwood Arc.

Seeker Asum’s dinner plan (before Vax ruined it) was to find proof that the Briarwoods didn’t actually have the political power to build the bridge over the Searing Channel to Wildemount.

Travis, re: the shaving of half of Grog’s beard--”That was a pretty hot moment.” That kicked off months of Grog trying to get Vax back. “A new world order had started.” However, Vax was too slippery and often frustrated Grog. Liam didn’t realize how furious Travis was until much later. “It was magical, I figured it would just come back! I thought it was tit for tat. I was wrong.”

The woman Percy saw with his natural 20 was just a hunter citizen with her wolves, which was intended as an opportunity to either gain information about the state of the city or (if it had gone poorly), a chance for her to report back to the Briarwoods and given them an advantage over VM.

Liam genuinely thought Vax was going to die during the Briarwood attack. He intended it as a monologue to exit the game. (”The stuff with Kiki had started, but Vax’s world was still 98% his sister.”)

Sam knew Percy’s gun had to be destroyed because he “did crazy shit with it and--weren’t you marking stuff off it all the time? That’s weird!” Everyone enjoys the memory of Percy/Taliesin’s real shock and upset. Sam genuinely hadn’t thought he would be upset at all and was surprised at how mad he was. Taliesin is still upset he never managed to build another one because of how priceless it was. “It was priceless! It was--Two magical elements welded into--oh, Lord!” Matt says the only other way to break the curse would have been to go kill Orthax in the Abyss. Taliesin points out that means Orthax is still out there. Matt: “As far as you know.”

Matt wants the new story to be wholly unique and new. There will be VM choices that will affect the world, but it won’t be a direct continuation.

Taliesin only told Matt that the Briarwoods murdered his family & deliberately kept it as limited as possible. He didn’t know anything about them. (Matt points out it’s good to only write as much as your character knows when creating a backstory.)

Matt: Delilah was a lesser mage working at an academy in the Dwendalian Empire (they were minor nobles), and her husband had gotten sick. She went to find a cure & found one, but by the time she got back, her husband was dead. She was so distraught she began “screaming into the astral sea and one day, a whisper answered back, ‘I can help you,’” which was Vecna. These whispers continued, leading her to one of Vecna’s old laboratories (guarded by an undead creature so old he’d forgotten his own name), where she found the secrets of vampirism in exchange for now owing Vecna her life. However, because of her toying with illegal necromancy, they were pursued, discovered, hunted, arrested, escaped, and hunted again for execution, which is why they fled the empire to the Menagerie Coast, which is where they ran into Ripley who was fleeing her own hunters. They began working together there and had heard about Whitestone, so this is where they began getting them to take their guard down (since Whitestone had gone to such lengths to cut themselves off politically). Taliesin notes that he’d not intended to give them supernatural powers, but during their creation he had thought of a ghost story in New Orleans where survivors of a horrible fire got into a coach and left, even though they shouldn’t have been alive, so he enjoyed the similarities in the tone of their love story.

Vex had feelings for Percy already at this point. “Darling, take the mask off.” She also thinks the darkness attracted her to him more.

Percy didn’t know the voice in his head was real. The smoke in the show was the first time it had ever happened. Liam notes they’d never had any hints of demonic power in the home game. Matt says the demon would never have manifested until Percy confronted someone directly from his revenge list.

Trusting the DM with your stories and mysteries is half the fun, according to Laura. Matt feels it gives him the opportunity to collaborate with the players.

Sam: “The first session [of the new campaign] is just going to be asking Travis why he’s talking like that.”

Keyleth was close to leaving the party at the beginning of this arc. She had issues with some of VM’s moral decisions and felt she had to continue her Aramente.

If Ripley had been left in her cell & was unable to escape, and they had figured out who she was, she would have done everything in her power to convince them she was as used and abused as everyone else (such as Cassandra) until the first opportunity to escape.

The dead de Rolos were left in public in Whitestone after the coup (they were the first to hang from the Sun Tree) in almost the exact same arrangement Matt used for the VM effigies later. VM did not ever fight their skeletons. Percy: “It’s just one more ghost story for that bloody castle. It’s highly appropriate for Whitestone.”

Ashley likes to think Pike’s ability to astral project is because she’s special to Sarenrae, but feels it’s just a reality of her city/film situation.

Matt says Delilah’s ritual actually succeeded, that she just didn’t know what she was looking for. She created the siphon, which was the whole purpose of the ritual. VM might have discovered that it had been successful if they’d spent more time with it. Delilah realized later (after reincarnating into her clone body) that she had fully done her part and Vecna was pleased.

Re: Craven Edge: Travis had no idea what a sentient weapon was and was just entranced with the description of the fancy sword. He was excited when Percy got nervous reading the card and was completely surprised when Matt began talking. “Grog was just enjoying this new friend that helped him shish-kabob people really well.”

Matt intended the acid trap to be broken by strength towards the wall, blocking the acid chutes, or by using another button on the wall Vax didn’t find. No one remembers how they actually got out.

If Scanlan had learned of Kaylie first before she found him, he would have probably run away from the information.

For Taliesin, the final barrel on the List was meant for “Percy’s acknowledgement that the List was not the end,” that this was an unending cycle he was starting. The empty barrel was meant to be the start of a brand new List, that he had started a revenge run that would never end. Percy was glad to kill thousands of people indirectly to kill these five directly--he knew what he was doing the whole time in the creation of these deadly weapons, which is part of why he says so often that Percy is a terrible person. (He clarifies it was never intended for himself.)

Vex got Simon back by flirting with the guards. “There was a lot of winking involved.”

Matt had always intended Cassandra to be the final name on the gun. Matt didn’t know Taliesin had intended the same thing in re: revenge not ending and reveals that if he’d killed those six, another six would have appeared. Tal and Matt are both delighted by this reveal of their minds working in the same direction. (Sam: “I knew that. I knew aaaaaaall that.”)

Marisha hadn’t intended Keyleth’s leadership to begin to emerge here (the roc, the skeleton army), and thinks Keyleth didn’t fully believe it herself until she got the mantle. She does remember the kraken fight as one of the first moments she forced herself to step up and take responsibility. Liam notes her decision to take as many as she could at the end of that fight as a good leadership moment.

Marisha asks Matt what would have happened if she hadn’t rolled a natural 20 on the ziggurat. Matt says the DC was an 18 to resist the impact--if she hadn’t, she’d have gone through, taken a ton of damage, and been thrust into the Shadowfell on the outskirts of Thar Amphala. It would have changed the story if Keyleth had survived the damage to return safely & reveal Vecna’s plot early. However, no one would have even known she’d been gone. Matt realizes belatedly that it would have been horrible to have such an emotional success on this arc only to have a beloved character suddenly disappear without warning (if she’d failed the DC and died in Thar Amphala). When they’d finally gotten to Thar Amphala at the end, there would have been an undead Keyleth to fight.

CR Stats Break! 50,074 damage dealt in total. Most damage taken: 5646, Grog. Most damage dealt: 10,038, Grog.

Episodes 39-83: The Chroma Conclave!

Matt had decided who would die in Emon before the attack. He wanted a central figure (and a powerful ally) to die to emphasize the danger. The most brave, resolute members of the Council were the most likely to throw their lives away.

Liam doesn’t know if Vax would have left VM if the Conclave hadn’t attacked. He would have been conflicted, tap-dancing around why he was there. The prank war with Grog had escalated into head-butting; Vex would have left with Vax if he’d firmly made the decision, even if she didn’t like it.

The attack was just a coincidence with being the same day VM messed with the orbs. It was all long-planned by Raishan. However, the orbs allowed Thordak & Raishan to recognize VM as meddlers & to get information on them earlier than otherwise.

Matt had planned the Conclave attack since Krieg’s original introduction. Coincidentally, if they were still playing at the home game pace of once every six weeks, that would have been this weekend.

Percy was calm in the Grog fight because he knew what was in all the bottles/kilns and because he knew he could give Grog disadvantage on every attack. He would have set him on fire/acid and blinded him as quickly as possible. Liam thinks Grog would have still turned Freddy into paste. 

Gilmore was one choice from dying when they found him. If they’d gone for the treasure, he would have been dead by the time they found him. It was meant to be a crux choice in learning what it meant in moments of crisis to choose against your own greed. Liam points out that the last times they had dealt with death at this point were the home game and Vex’s death. They had no idea what the rituals were or really what they entailed; they had no idea what permanence it would have. Every death was rough, but in the beginning it was very unsettling.

Vex found a bunch of love letters from Gilmore and his first boyfriend under Gilmore’s bed. It was good confirmation they were in Gilmore’s actual room. Matt says it was another Marquesian (Markeesian?) boy that he would have had to name on the spot if pressed.

Vesh was “a dangerous entity for the levels you were dealing with at the time.” Vex’s resurrection ritual piqued her interest and would have resulted in her turning her eyes to VM if the Raven Queen had not intervened. Matt: “So much turned on that choice!” Also Matt: “Vesh isn’t necessarily a god, though she likes to say she is and Kashaw believes she is.”

The boon of the Dawn Martyr was a huge part of Pike feeling important in battle/getting the courage to be in the middle, knowing it would be okay if she got knocked out a few times. Grog, tearfully: “It’s not okay!”

Sam asks who the guy she was in love with for the second time. Ashley ignores him. “Oh, I heard him, I’m just not acknowledging it!” Everyone, including me, dies a little inside.

Matt envisions Kevdak getting the Knuckles by chance, by beating the previous owner to a bloody pulp. (Kevdak was not the herd leader at the time.) He had no aspirations beyond taking what he wanted and expanding the herd. Then the Conclave attacked and distracted the guards of Westruun, and he saw this as an opportunity to carve their way into the city. He saw himself bending Umbrasyl to his will later once the herd was stronger.

Ashley interrupts the timeline to ask Matt about what was in Senokir’s box because she can’t stand it anymore. She forgot to tell Matt she wanted to go look for it during the plot break and has been kicking herself the whole time. Matt confirms it was legitimately, 100% his wife’s ashes. “Let this be a lesson to you; not every NPC is out to get you.” Ashley: “I still don’t believe you!”

Liam had planned on multiclassing into Paladin even before the Raven Queen’s tomb. He saw purpose he lacked in Pike, then began to consider it when Taliesin made an offhanded comment about him going cleric. Liam alludes to a rough time in his personal life and talks about an out-of-game meeting where he was very, very upset with how the game had turned that day in the tomb. “It was heavy on top of my heavy, and I was not happy.” He says he wouldn’t change it for anything, now.

Liam asks Matt about Fate-touched. Matt says he knew Liam was going through tough stuff and wanted to give him a little hope in the middle of personal difficulties. He had no idea when it was going to come up--he’d envisioned later in the story when they were dealing with more divinity, that one of the gods then would have commented on it. Liam gets up and briefly bows at Matt’s feet.

Laura asks if there are more cookies and is given permission to get them at the break.

Travis had no idea if he could win solo against Kevdak, but wanted to start the fight that way. He got to face him on his terms, and that was all he wanted. Matt says he could have actually won the fight, but the dice were against him.

Laura doesn’t think she deserved that change in alignment. “All I did was steal a broom! I was gonna give him a whole bunch of dragon scales but he walked away too fast!” Liam is shocked Vex’s alignment changed and Percy’s didn’t; Matt says thoughts don’t necessitate alignment change, but that shooting the kid through the hand put him very, very close. If Laura had stolen the broom for a greater purpose, he wouldn’t have changed her, but it was purely selfish. However, he feels alignment shouldn’t guide roleplay, it should be reactive to the roleplay. “It’s not a big deal.”

Sam reads the letter he wrote to Pike. [Edit: transcribed here.] My fingers wither in anticipation. I can’t keep up. He tells her his age and says he realized his soul would be forever incomplete the moment he met her. It’s a darned good letter and Sam comments on that: “Jesus, this is good.” He compares her gloriously to the sun and asks her to protect Kaylie. “Don’t you see? This whole time, I thought I was chasing a lover, but instead I was chasing a mother for my child. You are the savior for my daughter I could never be. In death, my heart will be beside you in Kaylie.” Sam legitimately tears up reading the end and I do too, a little. Wow. Travis: “Don’t you feel bad for reading that early?” Ashley: “Nope!”

Matt intended certain vestiges for certain players, but didn’t have plans for the Ward, Cabal’s Ruin, or other open-ended vestiges. He didn’t know who would take the Ward. Laura’s still bitter about the wings.

Re: Percy’s death ritual--Taliesin planned to ignore any attempts to call upon a god to help him. He was looking for reasons to come back, but thought it would be a great end to Percy’s character if it panned out that way. Elements of Taliesin’s next character started originally as Percy’s replacement.

Raishan was trying to do an ancient variant of Speak With Dead with Thordak’s corpse. She was concocting an intense version that tortures and forces information that would be true. She wanted the secret to getting rid of her disease and got Opesh’s lair location, then the rest of the information she needed once she arrived at the lair. (Matt confirms the soul curse on Raishan was real, and that she can see truth, which is how she knew Thordak genuinely knew how to cure her.)

Eggs: Thordak was mutating, becoming something new. The Soul Anchor began to change him in the Fire Plane & allowed him to asexually create progeny (”like Jurassic Park!”). They were a new elemental species. “We killed them all!” “As far as you know.” “Oh no!”

CR Stats Break! 86 total Grog rages. 3658 healing from Pike. 474 Vex arrows shot. Percy misfires: 36. DM facepalms: 264. Keyleth beast shapes: 110 (most used: 15 Earth elemental). 136 Scanlan inspirations, and every one of them gold. Vax: 21 one-shot kills. (Tal: “21 friends we never got to make.”)

Episode break, featuring guest stars! (No actual break, which means that bottle of water I drank earlier is now only suffering.) Attending tonight are Darin de Paul (Sprigg), Mary Elizabeth McGlynn (Zahra), Will Friedle (Kashaw), Jason Charles Miller (Garthok), and Noelle Stevenson (Tova).

On the biggest difference between the show & their home games: Mary & Will had never played before, so it was all new to them. Both preferred learning by fire. Darin feels it’s ultimately acting, “yes, and,” and loved it. Noelle points out that people are a lot more invested in her character than other players would be in a home game, and enjoys that feedback. Will agrees, since he never cared about anything like this before playing himself. Darin: “When you play at home, you don’t get fanart.” Mary loves the community & shared world-creating. Jason loves “what happens after” the game and how people can love your character more than you.

Mary was terrified on her first game. Her whole philosophy was, “Don’t kill the team. Don’t kill VM.” However, since she was so comfortable with Laura & Travis, she felt free to make mistakes. Will’s philosophy was to “smile, nod, and shift papers like I know what I’m doing.” At one point, Wil Wheaton told him to “turn undead” & he had no idea clerics could do that. However, when Will and Mary got to go back on the show, they spent time ahead teaming up and figuring out what their bond was, and that’s how their relationship started.

Darin’s first live show on set was the one where Kash kissed Keyleth & he dreamed of being part of that world. Will had no idea what he was doing would matter to people and thought it was tons of fun seeing the huge reaction to the kiss that he hadn’t expected. Zahra decided she would be pregnant right before they came onstage the last time, and Will loved the idea and told her to roll with it.

Jason has the CR theme as his ringtone. He enjoyed the uneasy tension of the truce with VM but expected foul play if the relationship had continued. He was surprised by the instant feedback of Twitch chat (Liam had it open on his phone during his game) being happy he called for an attack of opportunity.

Noelle jokes she wished she’d played a shopkeeper so she could have gotten into her episode earlier, but found it very intense once she arrived. She created Tova as something of a “burner character,” so that she would be okay if she died, but was glad she survived. She didn’t want to step on any big moments for the team and wanted to help them get to their next fight. She was glad she was there for their last scene--it felt important and was cool to see. She laughs about running the bear society from Marisha’s oneshot.

They all comment on the excruciating wait to be introduced in each episode. Will comments on the reality of being a guest star and being okay with dying for that reason, but also being terrified they might take someone from VM with them.

Will, Brian, and Mary had a death pool going for the final fight.

Sprigg’s theme of redemption was intense and unintended. Brian comments on Sprigg existing 37 years ago in the game with Matt’s mom; Darin loves that he intended him to be a Fagan character who steals everything, but ended up having a wonderful exit while arguing with Ioun. Darin loves funny, tragic characters and loves that Sprigg got to have his hero moment.

Mary mentions how surprising emotional moments could be (specifically mentioning Vex’s resurrection) and the complete investing of yourself in your character. Mary points out that she’s not a writer--this is one thing she has created herself, and she’s very proud of it. Darin: “It’s as special for all of us as it is for you.” Jason had someone yell, “We love you, Garthok!” at a concert. Will knew Matt from Thundercats and everyone else a little, and he loved the games, but he treasures the friendships he developed with the game’s players more. Darin deeply treasures the moment he had with Marisha in his game.

Brian remembers Darin taking pictures of the TM set the first time he saw it.

Will: “A good story is a good story.” Noelle: “There’s a universal nature to D&D.” The first time Mary met Noelle, Mary was wearing a d20 necklace and they bonded over both playing tiefling warlocks. Brian loves the idea of mainstream entertainment being about creation, not just observing.

Episodes 84-99: Taryon Darrington!

If Revivify had been successful, would Scanlan still have left? Yes--it was the act of dying, not really the circumstances of waking up, that put him over the edge. “There was a long buildup to him leaving.” He felt unloved & between Kaylie and the drugs, and the terrible streak of loss/dying, he felt nothing was going well. The prank on waking up felt poorly timed, but he admits he probably would have done the same to someone else if the situation had been reversed.

VM could have killed the kraken, but the lodestone sources that maintain the Water Elemental rift & keep Vesrah aloft would have lost power over the next five or so years. They’d have had to find another kraken & lure it back to preserve the city and the rift.

Pike was able to say most of what she wanted to say at Scanlan’s leaving in follow-up games, but Ashley as a player was sad that she was gone when he left and came back to “a new guy. I wanted to play with Scanlan!” Once Pike got up the courage, she was able to say what she wanted, but doesn’t feel she would have changed his mind at the time. Sam: “She absolutely could have stopped me. She was the only one.” Sam notes the rest of VM (esp. Vex) did persuade him to go with Kaylie instead of alone.

If Keyleth had failed her Aramente, she would not have been allowed to try again. She would have been allowed to join a council, and someone else would have gone to the Aramente instead. It’s not blood-determined--someone else worthy could have gone instead.

Tary’s wealth had little effect on tempering Vex’s greed. “Once she got money, then she mellowed.” Sam: “That’s how rich people work. They get money, and then they stop.”

(Funny aside where Brian forgets who Hotis is, confuses the rakshasa with the Pit Fiend, and Matt immediately pulls out the Pit Fiend’s name as Utugash.)

By the next time Hotis would have come back, the campaign would have been over (i.e. Vax would be gone), and his rage would have turned towards Ashley.

Vax’s Invisibility Ring was the only reason Tova survived.

Sam had no exact plan for Scanlan’s return, but only intended Tary to last one or two sessions before dying. However, “Tary was so dashing and charming and everyone fell in love with him instantly” that he lasted a little longer. Scanlan went back to Ank’harel for revenge, but it took some time for the two guys who wronged him to come back to town. He took their antiques counterfeiter away from them, publicly shamed them via the Meat Man, and chased them out of town. He and Matt did a whole series of rolls in which he identified the counterfeiter, chased them out, and created this small power vacuum, and when Matt asked what he wanted to do, he decided to step into the role himself.

The soulstones from Dis weren’t meant for much besides the temporary rush right before battle. (This makes me think of a really creepy 5-hour energy drink.) Vex still has one in her inventory.

Percy never wanted to kill Scanlan after the scrying eye; he wanted to sneak in, cripple him, take all his stuff, and tell him to never come back again. Percy didn’t like that he’d taken a vestige and other stuff from the house and felt he’d not deserved any of it. (Liam: “Neutral good, folks. Neutral good.”)

None of Grog’s lady friends were “the one that got away.” Liam, then Sam and Tal shortly after: “Nymph! Nymph! Nymph! Nymph!” and Travis reveals they didn’t sleep together. Grog was very meek and intimidated; Matt was mostly trying to make Travis uncomfortable in his own kitchen. Travis: “He just wanted to let you wonder for five years.” “Who, Grog or Matt?” “Yes.”

Laura reveals Vex & Percy briefly broke up during the break, then married each other quietly in front of the Sun Tree with Trinket.

Feywild theater: if you’re found listening to the theater without being a member, they converge on you to make you a member (e.g. pull out your soul and force you into it). However, there are members that have sought it out by choice.

Vex & Percy were out on a loch, talking about marriage and not wanting to be Vax & Keyleth, and decided to just go for it. The priest from one of the temples performed the ceremony. Tary knew first because he was in the same house. Liam: “Probably one of the biggest heartbreaks of the entire campaign. If there had been any other circumstances, [Vax] would not have known what to do with himself.”

Scanlan never heard Pike talking into the earring. :( However, he did do a fair amount of praying to Sarenrae “on his Aramente.”

No one found Scanlan during the break. Ashley and Grog were the only ones who seriously searched for him (everyone else decided to give him his space), but they didn’t look far enough, only staying in Emon & the surrounding area.

Scanlan never shot the gun except for that one time at the end.

Laura doesn’t even remember telling Vax not to get married without her. Va wouldn’t have been bitter or angry, just would have asked “why.” Liam says it would have been different if Vex had not specifically said not to get married without her. Laura’s genuine agony gets even worse for not remembering it. “I’m a terrible person!”

Marisha points out it’s another facet of Keyleth’s struggle to not waste time on inaction. “If you love someone, go marry them RIGHT NOW.”

Keyleth feels the Spire best serves the world by being in her hands right now, but has considered donating it to Melora’s followers after death. 

Ashley would have enjoyed playing an evil Pike if the Trickfoot curse had been real. “That would have been fun!”

Matt: if Tary had not rolled well on his final roll, it would have been the end of the Darrington family unit: “an unfixable divide between him and his father. His mother would have had to choose; it would have sundered the whole family.” Matt had actually forgotten about the fate die. “You can’t call it a fate die more than that fucking moment!”

Laura sidelines to ask about Vax’s favor to the hag. Matt had had plans for it, but by the time it came time for him to try to use it, Vax already belonged to the Raven Queen and she wouldn’t try to interfere with that. “It’s a lost investment.”

Grog was not angry at Scanlan at all until he came back, disguised, with a new barbarian at his side. “An idiot, a barbarian, a half-ass imitation of Grog. I was ready to pick Scanlan up and smash his brain into jelly.”

CR Stats Break! Most-cast spell per character. Keyleth: 43, Transport Via Plants. Scanlan: 47, Healing Word. Percy: 27, Hex. Vex: 80, Hunter’s Mark. Vax: 25, Lay on Hands. Pike: 40, Guiding Bolt Up the Butt? No, Cure Wounds. (Aw.) Grog: 18, Enlarge.

Episodes 100-115: Vecna!

They could have acquired boons from each deity they tried to talk to, but others they didn’t have a strong connection to would have required research, searching, and time Vecna would have used against them. If they’d gone for a fourth deity, Vasselheim would have been destroyed and Vecna would have begun to understand his powers after achieving his miracle. If they’d gone for a fourth trammel, his power would have spread beyond the oceans. Matt thinks they struck the perfect balance.

Scanlan stayed so long in Ank’harel because he had to wait for the two guys to return, and while he waited he got a taste for “crime power!” and decided to stay. “Tastes like pleather.”

A lot of Pike’s feelings started with the letter, but she and Scanlan did flirt slightly in the home game. She didn’t take it seriously because she didn’t think he was serious until the letter. “That letter is very intense.” When he left, she realized how much she cared for him and missed him, and when he came back she thought he was more mature and maybe the time had passed. It was a slow climb after the letter.

Matt declines to say where Vecna keeps his phylactery. “That’s not campaign information, that’s world LORE information!”

Vex took the name “de Rolo” after her marriage.

When the Knuckles were resonating, it was because they were close to the surface from which they were carved (the earth titan), and because they had a structural extra bonus to sieging the titan from the inside. They could have slowed down the titan by attacking its legs, but that would have alerted Thar Amphala and they’d have had an uphill fight the rest of the way. They had lots of options to stop the titan.

Percy was not troubled by Silas’s escape. He’d transferred that angst to other people and felt at that point they could handle him if he attacked again. “It was never about Silas.”

The Death Knight was the nameless servant that had been keeping Vecna’s laboratory for countless centuries, rewarded for his service.

If he could have, Vax would have said goodbye to (at least) his father, Korrin, Gilmore, and Velora.

Marisha feels Keyleth was at last ready to lead her people by the end of the campaign. She had made her peace and was ready to be done. Brian: “Heavy is the head that wears the antlers.”

Matt guessed what Sam wanted to do with his level 9 Wish spell in the final battle. Sam had asked him about its limitations ahead of the game, and he tried to answer in general terms in case he was wrong. He didn’t realize the exact implications until the moment Sam used it as Counterspell. It’s one of Matt’s favorite moments of the game. Sam: “Great. Awful.”

Scanlan can’t reconcile his immense power with being unable to save his friend. He feels he ultimately failed, but suspects that in his older age he will realize it’s okay to fail & you don’t have to succeed at everything to make a difference in people’s lives. He’ll try to be a hero for his wife & his kid, and he still might use Wish every once in a while to see if he can get a message to or from old Vax. Liam: “Vax would never have seen that as a failure.”

Matt: “I imagine there are a lot of stories told about Vax’ildan and what he did.” Sam: “It’s okay not to be the best at everything. It’s okay to do what you do.”

The opposite side of Entropis had ancient holy relics that had been destroyed (the site of the seed that ascended Vecna).

Percy wanted to save Vax by selling his soul, get the punishment he deserved, and use the contract to get something out of his certainty he was going somewhere awful anyway. Then the moment of uncertainty crept in and he wondered why he kept making all these awful deals. Matt says that was one of his favorite Percy moments of the whole show & that he loved how he could see him break.

Matt says both Percy and Scanlan could have gotten the Wish off in a way that could have possibly circumvented the RQ’s will, but Liam had no idea how that would have played out, because in his mind the only way he could live was if the RQ gave him her blessing.

Re: reading--Grog just wanted to get smarter.

Syldor was grieved at Vax’s death & regrets the treatment of his children--he’s been spending a lot of his life trying to reconcile the choices he made in how he raised them with the pride at what his children have accomplished. “He’s learned a lot of lessons” and is doing the best he can do improve acceptance of outsiders in Syngorn society.

Vex feels she made peace with Syldor after having five kids with Percy and beginning to understand what having children means--it became important in a different way to reach out to Syldor.

Matt feels Vax is able to reconnect with his mother occasionally, but also prevents loneliness for the small mortal sliver left in the RQ & doing her will. He declines to explain the ethereal further.

The titan could only really be damaged from the inside.

Keyleth tries Speaks with Animals on the large raven that visits after a long, long time, without expecting the results she hopes for. “Almost better to keep the illusion that it’s Vax, rather than have the confirmation that he was never there at all.”

The Bag of Holding contained at the end: “silverware, candles, caltrops, handcuffs, stones, dried poo, some armor, the big black sapphire, bottles of wine. It was like a busted-up Home Depot.”

Liam declines to answer how Vax felt after his death, but in the moment itself he felt very heavy and very full. He knew his sister was taken care of.

FINALLY. Pike’s other love interest was....drumroll... “For a very long time, it was Percy.” She felt that through her faith and the light she had from Sarenrae that he was a marked man, and she did so much thinking and praying for his soul that everything became very confusing for her. She feels now, though, that it never would have worked out between them, and that somehow in the end, “...it was always Scanlan.” Tal: “He was oblivious, man.” Sam: “Even Tary was in love with that guy! He’s the worst!”

Favorite moments. Travis: "Dropping on Kevdak.” Liam: “Saying goodbye.” Marisha: “Cherry blossoms, and the tree.” Sam: “Cows.” Laura: “Talking to Trinket for the first time.” Sam: “Trying to kill Trinket for the first time.” Liam: “Gilmore stabbing me.” Marisha: “The hanging tree.” Taliesin: "Letting go when Ripley shot me. Realizing that Percy was in love with Vex. I’d never had a PC turn on me like that before that moment.”

Sam realized at the end that while he’d always imagined Scanlan spending his days telling their stories grandly, his favorite moments in the end were just healing his friends, impressing his friends and making them laugh. Marisha thinks about the cannonball contest, and Liam loved that Sam played the whole last fight against the gods with one hand held behind his back. Matt thanks Sam for playing bards to their full power. Ashley thinks about her first game, and how personal it was. How it changed her life.

Matt finds it strange that he’s a 35-year-old man who has spent his whole life trying to make something, and who genuinely believes the greatest thing he has ever accomplished is this story he’s told with his friends.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Moments of A Dying World

Yes, another fic idea. Except this one’s nowhere near as light as the ones I’ve done in the past. [Unless you’re in the mood for a “rocks fall, everyone dies” thing, anyway. Hamlet-levels of death, in this one. Thus the cut.]

Title from Disturbed’s “The Vengeful One”, which should clue you in that no, this is not a happy fic idea. 

Warnings: mental health issues, mental instability/insanity, dubious morality, unreliable narrator, evil Tony Stark, codependency, an amoral JARVIS, not Wanda friendly, character deaths, not a fix-it, an apocalypse of sorts, and an unhappy ending. Dead dove, do not eat—this is me taking everything to the most logical conclusion I can think of.

I’ve asked myself this before, when I came up with TWiFFON: even though we all know that when it comes down to it, heroism is as integral a part as genius is to Tony Stark’s character, let’s play a game, shall we?

What would it look like, if Tony Stark were to to snap? 

I mean, sometimes it feels like part of the fandom wants him to. Some cast him as the villain, the evil mass-murderer who wants to lock up poor innocent Steve and his friends. The man behind the curtain, the mastermind behind it all.

Fine. 

If they want a monster, then I’ll give them one.

Only tricky part being, when and how would this work? Because we’ve seen him betrayed multiple times, backstabbed and tortured, and it all only made him burn brighter rather than break. But hey, if they really want to seen Tony Stark as a villain...

Wanda fucked up. Badly.

So, so, so badly, and the foolish child even thought, up until the end, it hadn't been her fault. It's not until her last moments, when she's taking her last, desperate breaths, and looking him in the eyes, trying to be defiant to the end, that she sees.

That she notices the gleam of something horrifyingly familiar, almost hidden behind the madness, and realizes that her initial attempt at vengeance for her family had gone so, horribly, right.

But I'm skipping ahead, aren't I?

See, Wanda fucked up, when she mind-whammied Tony Stark, back when she first met him in Sokovia. In her arrogance, still high off the feeling of power rushing through her veins, that she didn't realize at the time, the consequences of just what she'd tampered with.

Tony Stark, at the time, had been a genius who'd burned so, so brilliantly, and, though not many had been aware of at the time, had been dealing with mental health issues. As per usual, Tony being Tony, everything he dealt with was with higher stakes, and his PTSD had been much the same way; his mind had been working on overdrive just to carry on with his life.

 Simply put, Wanda's thoughtless meddling was the straw that broke the camel's back. Thing is, in this analogy, the 'camel's back' was Tony’s mind and morals and rationale and psyche. Tony Stark had burned brightly for so, so long, had been a supernova— and, much like the life cycle of a star, it had only take a bare hint of a nudge, for it to become a black hole, consuming everything in its path.

 Tony Stark entered Sokovia wanting to make the world a better place. He left it, wanting to see it burn. 

And so he did, with his suits and connections and devastating intellect.

It was almost alarmingly easy, actually. He'd returned looking slightly shaken, slightly off, but not as if he'd had everything that made him Tony inverted so drastically. Thing is, he hadn't been just Iron Man; he'd also been the Merchant of Death, once.

Tony Stark had, once upon a time, made weapons of the highest caliber, dealt with mercenaries and generals alike with a striking blend of charisma and ruthlessness, easy as breathing. He'd buried it, left it to be forgotten in the dust, after Afghanistan—until Wanda happened, and the rest is history.

Ultron came online, dazed and confused and sanity already eroding from the Mind Stone's influence; it was only par for course, really, that his first introduction to the world was the Merchant of Death’s vicious smile, and a JARVIS whose only concern was his creator's safety and happiness. [If Sir wanted to see the world burn, then he would give him the spark to set it ablaze.]

In another life, the AI would have tried to soothe Ultron, would have tried to stabilize him and show him humanity's goodwill. In this life, however…

 While the Avengers relaxed, and had a party to celebrate the fall of HYDRA's last stronghold, nobody noticed that Tony never showed. While everyone was seeing Thor off to Asgard, Scepter in tow [though Ultron had relieved it of the Mind Stone], JARVIS taught Ultron how to access launch codes and crash stock markets, how to obliterate his enemies. While everyone else returned to their daily lives, Tony set to work. 

  Really, the Earth never stood a chance.

 Oh, sure, it put up a decent fight nevertheless, once word got out, but it was little more than a foregone conclusion when the chips were down. [An enemy had once said Iron Man was “a masterpiece of death. A man with a dozen of these could rule all of Asia”; Tony Stark had a Legion.]

 The Avengers took surprisingly long to fall, but once their team was broken, the rest of the world didn't hold out for much longer. Everyone tried to run, to hide, in the end days; Wanda was among one of the last survivors, one of the 'lucky' ones to have survived seeing her home—her planet— turn to ash around her once again, but it really didn't matter once Iron Man breached the last of the strongholds. She, however, was one of the few to realize just what she'd done, though it was only for a few seconds, in the end.

  Lord Thanos' arrival to Midgard was heralded by a spectacular invading force…which may have been for naught, if the burnt-out shell of a planet was any indicator. Hmm...he could've sworn he hadn't been here before, and yet the ruins of a vast civilization that appeared to have been on the cusp of a new era told a starkly different story.

Nothing was left, nothing but a madman on a throne of ash and dust, nothing but a madman with a smile like bared teeth. 

Fascinating, that.

  Maybe the Merchant of Death tries to take Thanos on. Maybe, with Ultron and JARVIS and their practice with Earth, he even manages to succeed, because this is fire fighting fire, a madman fighting the Mad Titan, the Merchant of Death fighting the one who sought to court it. Maybe years pass and all that’s left is a barren wasteland of a planet with two immortal beings that become the stuff of legends and horror stories, a warning to the rest of the realms that cannot help but wonder at their creator. 

  And maybe Thor, safely back at Asgard, can't help but wonder what went wrong, even centuries later. 

...I told you guys it was not a happy story. The urge to see the world burn means that there’s nothing left but ash. 

Tony’d die alone, the last human on Earth, unless JARVIS does something drastic like try to upload his brain like Zola did in The Winter Soldier. [Which he totally would, by the way, if he ever figured out how: he is fanatically devoted to keeping Tony safe and happy, regardless of what that means for the rest of the world.]

Ultron, meanwhile, is content; his perceived creator [because sorry but I still call bull on Tony having created a murderbot in canon when the Ominously Gleaming Alien Artifact was right there] was to help him complete his mission.

Fun fact: of them all, Ultron’s also the most moral one. If anyone were to crash-land this dimension, he at least would only care about just sending them back, rather than try to kill them. [Not his dimension = not his problem.] Tony would not be nearly as merciful, and JARVIS...well. You get the picture.

I don’t doubt that there’s probably a better villain name for Tony Stark, but I also couldn't resist the idea of the Merchant of Death vs. Thanos’ army.  

[...and the more I think about it the more detailed it’s getting oops]

[weneverlearn]

GARAGE PUNK DOC IN THE WORKS! 

Wherein Italian trash rock lifers dust off their old VHS concert tapes and pick up a new camera to document the 1990s garage rock scene.

About the last week of November, a trailer of sorts (above) was making the trash rock rounds. It’s cool clips and odd editing of some of the best garage bands of the 1990s piqued lots of interest and fevered sharings, garnering excited queries of “What?” “When?” “Who?” Gaaaaaggghh!!”

Well it turns out I had a clue, as this in-the-works documentary of the end-of-the-century garage rock scene (ala the one covered in my book) is being scrummed up by Italian uber-fans, Massimo Scocca and Gisella Albertini. They not only started booking great bands from all over the wold in their town of Torino and beyond northern Italy back in the early ‘90s, but they had their own great trash trio, Two Bo’s Maniacs. And yes, @newbombturks have been pals with them since they first booked us in 1993, and are one of many interview subjects planned for the film.

Since the chances of 20th Century Fox coming along to bankroll a doc on the 1990s garage punk scene is probably out of the realm of possibility, here’s hoping Massimo and Gisella get all the help and funding they need to finish the project.

We Never Learn checked in with Gisella for some more details on the project.

So, what is the name of the documentary, and why is it named that?

We needed a working title that could pretty much summarize what it is about, and not just cool sounding: Live The Life You Sing About - Tales of Low Budget and Desperate Rock’n’Roll.  

We started wondering how bands that sound so different from one another are often perceived as part of the same category or “genre.” When someone asks us to define it, we end up with a long series of terms: garage, punk, rock’n’roll; sometimes with an extra “sixties” or “lo-fi” or “low-budget” in all possible combinations because they’re not not necessarily all true at the same time. Maybe the one thing they have in common is attitude. Something like: play, sing, do what you think is right, no matter what other people think or say. This often comes along with struggle, frustration, and the feeling of being on a different planet, so we threw in an extra “desperate.” It also happens to be the title of an old song that a band brought back to the present, which is another common theme here. However, it might still change, if we come up with a better idea.

Who started the idea to do the documentary, and why?

We came across a box of Video 8 and cassette tapes, forgotten in a closet for years, and something clicked: “We should do something with this!”

From time to time we happen to meet kids who were just babies or very young children in the 90’s, but are very much into this kind of music. Usually when they hear the names of the bands we saw play live, they look at us with amazement and envy. That reminds us of when we talked to people who had seen maybe like Bo Diddley and the Rolling Stones in the ‘60s in just one night. Ok, it means that we’re getting older, but at the same time, we feel lucky and grateful that someone worked hard to allow all that to happen. Now, it’s our chance to save someone “from the misery of being a Taylor Swift fan and do something good for the world” ( - Tim Warren). Ha ha ha!!!

Gisella (far right); Massimo (middle) - Photographer unknown

Is there a kind of timeframe to the bands in the movie?

I guess you know exactly what it means having to choose what to include and what to cut. So many stories that should be told, so little pages...or minutes. It’s just an impossible task. So, we somehow arbitrarily put some boundaries. We decided to focus on whatever happened between 1990 and 1999. Last decade of the millennium. Pretty epic, you know. The era of transition towards new technologies that deeply changed the way of doing many things, but at the same time, at least in this kind of music, strongly rooted in the previous decades of the century.

Oh sure, it’s not that a flying saucer with all these bands landed on Earth on January 1, 1990 and left on December, 1999. We will have flashbacks and references to the present as well. But since the documentary is mostly based on our own archive, it’s also necessarily influenced by the fact that we met some people and not others, and we saw, filmed, and photographed some bands more than others.

Tell me about what your backgrounds are -- in music or life in general.

Oh well, the main people [working on the doc] currently is the two of us -- with the precious help of a few people who could not devote themselves to the project until it’s completed, but worked with us and supported us in many ways.

When we came up with the idea, we had two main options: putting together a professional-looking proposal, sending it around and just wait, hoping some producer would notice its great potential and decide to invest thousands of dollars on it. Or, just jump in and start somehow and figure everything else out in the process. We chose the latter -- it’s more punk! There’s no fame and fortune guaranteed with this project. You do it just because you want to and no matter what.

I mean, we expected a bunch of dedicated fans and collectors would love to see a documentary like this. But being realistic, that’s a relatively small niche. We tried to figure what people know about this. in Italy, the closest they can usually get to this kind of music is what here is called the  “Po-po-po-po-po-po-poo World Cup chant.” Real title: “Seven Nation Army” by the White Stripes. Not even something we plan to mention. 

Next, a bunch of bands of the late 90’s-early 2000s, still quite a bit out of our range. Then numbers get lower and lower, down to the most obscure ones that only few geeks have ever heard of.

Anyway, if all goes well, we’ve finally found a stable technical crew. Also, we’re working on a few ways of funding the project, besides our own bank account, and including crowdfunding later. Plus a few other ideas, but nothing defined yet so I prefer not to say more, until we’re settled.

1995 7″

Torino newspaper clipping, 10/93. - “Shitty local bands get the main title, while they (A-Bones) only appear to deserve a "tough (?) garage rockers from NY.” - Gisella

How far along are you in finishing it, and when do you think it will be done?

We already did a lot of work on the archive and the structure that will help speed up the editing process. However, we still have quite a few interviews to make, presumably in the summer, and post-production that will involve quite a lot of work on sound especially. Sorry guys, sit down and relax, at least until late 2018. But we’ll keep everybody updated on our page.

Who have you talked to so far, and who do you hope to talk to when you come to the States?

We did long interviews with Tim Warren and Ben Wallers at their homes. Then we have eleven more, collected at gigs of the bands that happened to be touring Europe: opportunities that we couldn’t waste. Many interviews were between sound check and dinner, or even after the gig, and we might decide -- with the interviewees -- to use only part of them, or not at all, then do more while we’re in the U.S.A. Oh, I almost forgot to mention 30 audio-only interviews we had made for our zine in the ‘90’s that will be partially edited in as well. Who do we hope to talk to in the States? Hey, we’re Italian and superstitious, we don’t reveal names in advance!

Torino newspaper clipping, 1994.

Tell us about when you first started seeing these kind of garage punk bands. And what was an early show you saw that really made you get into this music?

Gisella: Sixties music has been my favorite since I was 4 or 5, when I found my mom’s Beatles records -- two 45’s -- in a cupboard. From there, you know, Kinks, Them, Animals, Pretty Things, and then Pebbles, Back From the Grave, and the bands more or less inspired by that. So when my friends and I heard that the guy from the Prisoners would play in town with his new band the Prime Movers, we all went, of course. There, we discovered the opening band would be the Wylde Mammoths. Great night, and a first glimpse of things to come. But it was really the Gories and Thee Headcoats records I came across at a local record store that blew my mind and had me say “Oh THIS is what I really want to hear!.” Everything else followed.

Massimo: Well I’m older than Gisella you know, and I saw some awesome bands during the ‘80s like Suicide, Gun Club, etc. I used to collect a lot of garage compilations, early blues records, r&b, soul, and all the good stuff. But the event that attracted me strongly into this music happened in 1990. I was in NYC, checking the Village Voice and saw that the Gories and the Raunch Hands would play that night. So I went there, and man, that gig was unbelievable! Totally different from anything you could hear at that time, and so shocking that it definitely changed my life forever.

I guess there will be a lot of old film footage in the movie. Can you tell us about one or two old videos you have that you are particularly excited about putting in the movie?

The first one we ever shot. it’s 1995, Micha [Warren, Crypt Records] tells us the Oblivians will be touring Europe. The 10” on Sympathy was awesome and the Country Teasers will be playing too, so we decide to follow them around for a week. Right before leaving, I remember a friend of mine had a Video 8 camera from the late 80s, ask him if we can borrow it, and he says yes. Great, off we go in our ‘70s orange, rusty Ford Transit that we can also sleep in. We get to Stuttgart, Germany. The venue is a sort of long narrow basement, really packed, hot wild atmosphere. Camera battery is fully charged, everything ready, we’re thrilled at the idea of filming such an event. Except... five minutes later, the camera’s dead! The battery was fucked up. What do we do? We can’t miss something like this. Between the sets, we ask if I can keep the camera plugged to the only socket around, at the back of the stage, and they say ok. So for the whole gig I’m there in a corner, trying not to pull my 3′ cord too much, horrified at the thought of blacking out amps and P.A., making the band and the crowd mad at me forever. Luckily, I didn’t. And we came home with some real crazy footage!

Was there any band so far that said NO to an interview for the film?

Considering that in most cases we basically popped up at sound-check asking for an interview for a basically nonexistent documentary, we’re really grateful that they all said yes in that moment, despite the often dire circumstances. It gave us the confidence to persist.

As for the future, we haven’t contacted 100% of those we’d like to interview yet. Until now there was only one who said, “Maybe, it depends.” But I already sort of expected this could happen, and in fact I contacted him way before all the others, in order to have time to figure out my countermoves. Not all hope is lost, ha!

Tell us anything else you want about the movie.

We want our documentary to reflect what we think was the feel of that era -- no bullshit, fun, crazy, and not too high tech!

Follow the film’s progress here!!

[captainoftherollyjoger]

The Brothers Jones

What would have happened if Liam never died? What would have happened if Liam and Killian became pirates together? Set in the Enchanted Forest. Liam and Killian Jones, new to the pirate business, catch up with some old friends; Princess Emma, and her best friend Elsa.

This is the start of a new fic I’m doing, I have had the idea for a while now, just never got around to it. Going to need patience with this one as I’m also in uni now. Long summer is gone! :(

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12294582

 “What do ya say, mates? Follow me and my good brother into a pirate’s life, where at least among thieves, there is honour!” The whole ship including Killian cheered for their captain; Liam Jones. Their ‘noble’ king had sent Liam and Killian to a cursed land in which they were tasked to retrieve a deadly poison under the pretence it was medicine. Only a coward would poison his enemies, his enemies which were the kingdom of King Charming and Queen Snow.

Liam had nearly lost his life if it hadn’t been for a cure they had found. Killian couldn’t bear the thought of losing his brother.

“Anyone who disagrees can leave now, or walk the bloody plank! Bring the paint from below!” Liam commanded, Killian would never have expected this from his brother. He was always one for obeying the rules and the law, Killian was definitely more of the rebel of the two. Maybe Liam’s near death experience changed him. “We no longer sail under the Jewel of the Realm, but the Jolly Roger!” Another large cheer. Killian couldn’t have named it better himself.

“Killian?” Liam’s voice pulled him out of his daydream. He was recalling the last week of his life. They were pirates now. They went from slave boys, to commissioned officers, to pirates. It was absurd. “What’s troubling you, brother?”

“Just a lot has changed. I nearly lost you, Liam. We’re heading out on a risky road, the pirate life isn’t an easy one.”

“Don’t worry, Kil. We’ll manage. First, we must inform King Charming and Queen Snow of that bastard’s plans. He’ll send others out to fetch that plant, even if it takes him a lifetime.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Captain. But surely pirates shouldn’t be interfering in royal affairs?” Suggested Killian.

“I’m not doing it for them.”

“Then who?” There was a long pause between them. “Not that woman. Surely.”

“She’s part of the kingdom, Killian. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“You’ve been besotted with her ever since you returned from that ball. Why won’t you tell me her name?”

“Because it’s none of your business.” Liam rolled his eyes, and started walking away.

“Liam! Come on, between brothers!” He was teasing. Liam rarely got a liking towards a woman, so when he couldn’t get his mind of this one from the Charming’s kingdom, Killian wanted to know what all the hype was about.

“Go away, find something to do.”

“What does it start with?”

“You’re so childish, little brother.” He smirked. Killian stuck out his tongue and crossed his arms. “Fine. You’ve worn me down. It starts with E. Happy?”

 “E? Interesting.”

Killian had been commanded to wait on deck, whilst Liam went to see the royals. However, Liam had promised him a night at the tavern, not that Killian had had a drink since he started in the navy. A game of cards might be fun though. Maybe a woman would take his fancy, not that he was very experienced in that region. In fact, hardly at all. A few ball dances here and there, a few stolen kisses in his early navy days. The time before the Navy, some men had tried to get him a woman, but he cared more about the alcohol. If he was completely honest, he was a stuttering mess when it came to a woman he found attractive.

“Little Jones! Get your sorry arse over here now, it’s party time!” Grinned Liam.

The tavern was crowded and loud. Killian had forgotten what it was like to be in one. The stench of alcohol made his stomach churn, he hadn’t touch the stuff since he gambled his life away. Women and men were all laughing together, the women wearing rather revealing dresses made Killian uncomfortable.

“You’re acting like a navy lieutenant.” Whispered Liam.

“At times I still feel like one. I haven’t done this sort of thing in ages. I forgot how much it sucks without alcohol.” He sighed, plonking himself down on the nearest bench.

“If you don’t want to drink, Killian, don’t. No one will judge you.”

“Well I might.” Came a high pitched voice. Killian turned to see a hooded figure walking towards them, Liam squinted then his smile went bright and wide.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.”

 Killian’s eyebrows furrowed, who the hell was it? The figure was clearly a woman, when she pulled her hood down, blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her smile was just as bright as Liam’s. Her eyes appeared to be green from what Killian could tell. He could certainly tell that she was extremely attractive. Killian had no chance of being able to form a coherent sentence, no one had taken his breath away quite like this. How did Liam know her?

“Killian, this is Emma.” Beamed Liam. Killian stood immediately and shook her hand.

“Emma? Nice to love you, I mean meet you. I meant lovely name.” He stuttered. “Sorry, must be the alcohol I’ve had.”

“You don’t drink.” She pointed out. He had forgot she had heard that.

“Oh, ya know, the fumes and all.” His face was bright red, he felt his cheeks and ears burning. Emma? Was this Liam’s mystery woman? E? Liam looked happy enough to see her.

“Hmmm, sure, the fumes.” Smirked Liam. “I’m sure that’s exactly what has you tripping over your words.”

“Shut up.”

 Liam and Emma laughed, “So, Em. I don’t suppose-”

 “She’s coming soon. As if she would miss this night. She’s probably had trouble sneaking out.” Emma suggested.

“Sneaking out?” Interjected Killian. “Who is sneaking out? This isn’t the woman you’ve been besotted with?” he asked.

“Besotted? Elsa would love to hear that. She’s hardly stopped talking about you.”

“Elsa? Who’s Elsa?”

“The woman whose name starts with E.” Laughed Liam. “The one I can’t get out of my damned head.”

“So, Emma isn’t the one you love?”

“No, Killian.” He laughed. “Why would you think that?”

 “Emma begins with E.”

 “You’re a clever one.” Emma pointed out. Killian blushed. Liam laughed at his blindness to know she was teasing him.

“Well, thank you.” His head ducked at the compliment. “I always thought so.”

“Emma!” Called another woman. She wasn’t dissimilar to Emma, but Emma seemed to have more of a spark. In his opinion. However, the moment he saw Liam look at her, he knew his poor brother was a gonner.

“Elsa!” They embraced when she came over.

“Sorry, I had trouble escaping.” She smiled, then blushed at Liam. “Captain Jones.” He took her hand and kissed it, bowing slightly.

“My lady. May I offer you a drink?”

“You may.” The pair walked off towards the bar, leaving Emma and Killian behind.

“I hope you realise, Jones, that we’re not going to see them for a while. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for company.” She took his hand and dragged him out of the tavern.

 “Excuse me, Emma. But where are we going?” She still had his hand as they entered the darkness outside.

“I could get spotted in there, plus it doesn’t seem your thing.” She slowed down and released his hand.

“Spotted?” She just nodded. “Okay, so you like to keep secrets.” He tried to smirk in a sexy way, but he knew it just came out in a pathetic boy crush way.

“You’re cute.” She smirked, a lot better than him. However, her compliment just turned him more red. She knew the affect she had on him. “What’s wrong? Pirate too shy?”

“I’m new to the whole business. More of a navy officer at the moment.”

“I heard. How about I show you how to let your hair down?” A mischievous glint in her eye told him he was probably going to get into trouble. “Or shall I find someone else?” He shook his head as she walked away from him.

 “After you.”

Emma took him to the taverns further out, she showed him just how good she was at drinking, especially the games. She had won quite a bit of money that night, however, he had yet to touch the stuff. After she had her fun, she took him for a walk along the docks.

“Are you even a bit drunk?” He asked.

“Maybe a teeny bit tipsy. Not a lightweight, I’m afraid.” A cold gust blew over them and she shivered. He noticed her step closer to his side. “It’s getting cold, we should head back.”

“Aye, anything you wish, milady.”

“Anything?” She raised an eyebrow. “How about a kiss?”

 He swallowed deeply, “A kiss? Why on earth would you want to kiss me?” He stammered. Then realisation hit him. “Oh, I get it now. I’m sorry I don’t have any money on me.”

“What?” She stopped and stepped back from him. “Money?”

“You’re a- that’s why you’ve been spending time with me tonight. Sorry, I never meant for you to waste your time.”

“I’m not a whore, Killian!” She shouted. He straightened up.

“You’re not?”

“Do I look like a whore to you?”

“No, not at all. I just… why would you want to kiss me? If not for money. I mean you’re very beautiful… I’m so confused.”

“The kiss was a joke! I was joking. You really need to find a sense of humour.” She started walking away from him, he ran after her and took her hand.

“Emma, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were-”

“I’m the princess, Jones.” Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“Ppprincess? What now?” His turn to step back.

“Ya know, my parents are the king and queen. Elsa is part of one of the noble families. That’s why she struggled getting here, she was sneaking out of the castle.”

 “Princess. Urm. Castles.”

 “For someone who hasn’t had anything to drink, you seem pretty far gone.” She rolled her eyes. “When Liam told me about his brother, you weren’t what I was expecting. He told me you were a laugh and quick witted.”

“Not around beautiful women, he missed that part out.” He sincerity made her blush for the first time that night.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Well, I guess you have been staring at me all night.”

“Have not!”

“Have too!”

“I have not!”

“And drooling.”

“I do not drool.”

“You practically turn bright red every time I look at you.” She was back to teasing.

“It’s the warm atmosphere in the tavern.”

“Your excuses are crap.”

“Your language is crude for a princess.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a princess.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s dreadful. Men fighting for you, having everything you want. Must be awful.” He turned his back to her.

“Get lost. I’m not a spoilt brat. I had to fight for my place in the kingdom, especially with no brothers. I have to prove my worth.”

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean-”

“I wanted to spend the night with you because Liam made you sound different, turns out you’re a jerk just like the rest of them.” That wounded him.

“Look, princess-”

“Why did Elsa get the good Jones brother? And I get lugged with you.” Killian always saw himself as a disappointment to Liam, he always felt responsible for every bad thing that ever happened to them.

“Apologies.” He tried to say, but it just came out as a whisper. “I know I’m nowhere near as good as Liam.” He spotted a nearby bench and sat on it. Emma felt guilty, she’d struck a nerve somewhere.

A few minutes passed between them, she joined him on the bench and took his hand.

“Sorry, Killian. That was harsh. I shouldn’t have compared you to him.”

“It’s fine, I know I don’t match up.” His coat rested heavy on his shoulders, he still wasn’t used to its weight. She snuggled in closer to his side.

“Hey, I just wanted to get at you, like you got at me. It wasn’t fair. Forgive me?” She looked up at him with her emerald eyes.

“Of course.” He smiled softly, his sea blue ones staring intently at her. Before he knew what was happening, she had reached up to press a quick kiss to his lips, before he could react she had pulled away.

“Parlay?” He just nodded, waiting for her to stop looking at him so intently, before he let his big goofy grin break out.

“Where did you to go?” Asked Liam, when Emma and Killian walked back into the original tavern.

“Gambling.” Said Emma.

“Killi-”

“It was just me who gambled.”

“Ah.”

“You didn’t tell me Emma was a princess, you bastard.” Whispered Killian.

“Emma didn’t want me to tell you. What can I say, it was a royal command.”

“Did you forget we’re pirates.”

“She’s a beautiful woman, Killian. It was a woman’s command. However, she’s not as beautiful as Elsa. We’re staying for a few days. Hope that’s okay?”

Killian watched Emma who was laughing with some women near the bar, “Aye, I think that’s acceptable.” He smiled.

Killian Jones was screwed.

[gaytonystark]

In The Light Part 2

Pairing: Loki x Reader Words: 2,144 A/N: Sooooo part 3 is already underway and I hope you all like this part!

Part 1

“Are you insane?” Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing when Thor suggested sending you to Asgard to finish your training and rightfully so. “We can’t just ship her off to your demented brother!”

“Loki is not as he was when you last saw him. He’s changed and I wouldn’t trust him with this if I thought he would betray me.” Thor looked at you warmly and you flashed an encouraging smile at him. “This may be our-her only opportunity to make the best of her abilities.”

“Thor, I know he’s your brother, but this can’t possibly be the best option.” Natasha said, trying to reason with the god. “We’ve got state of the art facilities here that we can reinforce-”

“So that she can destroy it a bit slower? Y/N has powers that you here on Midgard are unable to accommodate. We cannot punish her for something she has not yet learned to control.” Thor tried to reason with them but it felt like it was all falling on deaf ears.

“She’s not being punished!” Tony snapped as he squared his shoulders immediately taking offense to what he said. “We have given her everything to keep her safe which is something you seem to have forgotten about.”

“There is nowhere safer in the Nine Realms than my home world. I can guarantee her safety and she’ll finally be able to understand the full extent of her powers.”

It seemed as though the whole team had their own opinions about your future. You had stayed quiet throughout the whole argument, but the time had come for you to finally say something. Your attempts to interject were ignored while everyone argued their point so it was time to make them listen to you. A flash of light emanated from your hands and stopped everyone in the middle of their rants.

“Hey! Has anyone bothered to ask me what I want to do?” You shouted over Earth’s Mightiest Heroes as they blinked repeatedly trying to get rid of the temporary blindness. “Because the only person who has even tried to hear me out is Thor.” You had their attention and after letting out a shaky breath, you continued. “Yeah my reaction was very similar when he said Loki would essentially be looking after me, but that sounds better than wrecking whatever’s left of the compound.”

“Y/N, we can cover the damage, it’s not a problem.” Tony said, rubbing his eyes profusely.

“Tony, you can’t keep cleaning up my mess. I know you’ll just keep rebuilding and I won’t get any better. Not to mention that one of these days someone’s gonna get hurt.” They all looked at you with brand new eyes and you were relieved that they had at least stop shouting at each other. “I appreciate everything that you have all done, I really do, but I honestly believe this is what’s best for me and the team.” Nobody said anything and you were scared you had taken it too far with the blinding light.

“But we’ll miss you.” Steve’s voice cut through the pregnant silence after your mini speech and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“I”ll miss you too, Spangles.” Your heart melted and it felt as though a huge weight had lifted off your shoulders. Steve stepped forward into your outstretched arms and squeezed you tight. The rest of the team joined in and pretty soon you were in the middle of a super group hug. “I’ll miss all of you. This won’t be easy for me either, having to leave the first place that’s actually felt like home.”

“It’s not like we won’t be here when you get back.” Said Clint as they began to pull away and you could have sworn you saw a tear escape his left eye before he quickly wiped it away. “If you want to come back at all.”

“Of course I'll come back, like I said-this is my home. As soon as I trust myself enough to use my powers properly Thor will open up the rainbow bridge so I can come home, right Point Break?”

“Absolutely. The moment you are ready, I'll be honored to lead you back.” Thor bowed his head respectfully and everyone breathed a little easier.

“So, when do you leave?” Wanda asked the question no one wanted an answer to.

“I've made the necessary accommodations back in Asgard so we can have Heimdall open the Bifrost to grant us passage whenever Y/N is ready to leave.” Thor gave you a reassuring look and squeezed your shoulder.

“Well then I think we should go sooner rather than later.” You said decisively, not realizing just how fast this all was happening. “Do I need to pack anything?”

“The necessities and more will be provided to you so you can ‘fit in’ as you say.” Thor put the words in air quotes and you stifled a giggle. “But you're welcome to bring anything you'd like.”

“Yeah I'll just pack a bag and we can go.” You turned to look at the rest of the team with slightly solemn eyes. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“You're not even gonna let me throw you a going away party?” Tony scoffed as he engulfed you in another hug.

Flashes of the last Tony Stark party you attended almost made you sick to your stomach all over again. “No because I'd like to go to Asgard with a healthy liver.”

“Your loss.” Said Natasha as she pushed him aside to hug you too. “It's not gonna be the same without you.”

“You guys won't even remember me by the time I get back.” You said jokingly but truthfully you already couldn't wait to come back and be totally in control of your powers.

The rest of the goodbyes were as heart wrenching as you had anticipated. You went back to your room to stuff your backpack with a few mementos and some other stuff to get you by. Something told you Asgard wouldn't have your favorite shade of liquid lipstick so you threw it in with everything else. Along with that, were photos of you and the team and a necklace with a quartz gem hanging on the chain that Steve had given you. In no time you had your bag packed with the important stuff and met Thor outside where he was waiting for you.

“Are you ready, Y/N?”

“Ready as I'll ever be.” You said and the nerves must have been all over your face because Thor laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“There's no need to be nervous, Y/N, you have my word that no harm will come to you and Loki will be an excellent teacher.”

“You're right, this will be fine. Everything will be fine.” You said more to convince yourself than anything else.

He wrapped a meaty arm around your small shoulders and thrusted Mjolnir into the air to signal the Bifrost. The portal opened and you were sucked into the stars. It felt like your body was being stretched all over the galaxy and your brain was being pulled apart. The trip may have only been seconds but it felt like much longer. Thor stepped into the entrance to Asgard with his arm still firmly wrapped around you and you gasped at the view.

Glistening towers shone on the horizon and the crystal clear water waved calmly beneath you. The setting sun only added to the majesty of everything you were seeing. The trip and the sight before you left you absolutely breathless.

“Greetings, Odinson.” Heimdall, the legendary gatekeeper of Asgard who you had heard about from Thor, greeted his friend warmly.

“Heimdall, thank you for granting us passage.” Thor said as he let go so you could get your bearings. “Y/N, are you alright?” He asked because you were still staring slack jawed at the amazing city.

“Totally.” You said breathlessly.

“Excellent and welcome to Asgard. This will be your home until you decide you are ready to return and please, take as much time as you need.” He led you out farther onto the bridge leading to the city where a pair of horses were waiting for you. “I will take you to where you are staying then on to the feast!”

“Feast? Thor there’s really no need-”

“Nonsense! You being here is cause for celebration!” He said as he helped you onto your horse. “And you will finally meet Sif and The Warriors Three. It'll be a grand event!” Thor mounted his horse and led yours to your new home before you had a chance to protest further.

Asgard was so much more breathtaking up close. Everywhere you looked was another wonder to behold and you couldn't tear your eyes away. If Thor hadn't been leading your horse you might have gotten lost just looking at all the amazing things. Finally you arrived at the palace that would be your home and it towered intimidatingly above you. People all around looked up at you upon your arrival, or rather they looked at your friend then gave you a slightly confused look before turning their attention back. However, their strange looks couldn't possibly deflate your giddy mood.

“Thor, this is incredible!” You dismounted your horse with only minimal difficulty, but your eyes couldn't leave the gorgeous castle.

“I'm glad you like it,” Thor said, a pleased smile on his face, “I know it's not the compound but I hope you'll be happy here for the time being. Come along, I'll show you to your room.”

Thor led you down a myriad of hallways and it seemed like there were people everywhere. They all walked with such purpose and confidence that made you want to be just like them. You squared your shoulders and walked with a little more umph in your step because this was where you belonged now. Thor walked you down another grand hallway until he stopped at an ornate door and threw it open. Your new room was floor to ceiling gold and even more ornate decor was all over the walls.

“I asked that they make it fit for a warrior of Asgard.” Thor broke you out of your trance and you picked your jaw up off the floor.

“It's-I can't-you didn't-I mean thank you so much, Thor.” You were at a loss for words, which you figured would be happening often, and struggled to find the right words to show your appreciation.

“There is nothing to thank me for, Y/N, I only ask for your happiness in return.”

“You definitely got it because this is amazing!” You walked around the incredibly done up room, still in complete awe. “Honestly, Thor, I still can't believe this is happening.”

“Neither can I and yet here we all are.” Loki, the legendary god of mischief was leaning against the doorframe, eyeing you disinterestedly.

“Brother! You made it!” Thor wrapped his huge arms around his brother and Loki squirmed out of his intense grasp.

“Of course I made it, you had three guards follow me to make sure I didn't abandon you and your new pet.” He looked at you slightly disdainfully before returning his brooding gaze to Thor.

“All the same I'm happy to see you!” Said Thor, completely blinded by his love for his brother to see his sour attitude. “And so is Y/N, aren't you?”

“You could say that.” You said, eyeing the God of Mischief and sizing him up as best you could.

“Come now, you'll be better acquainted at the feast in honor of Y/N’s arrival!” Thor ushered Loki out of your doorway and he looked over his shoulder at you for longer than you were comfortable with. “Y/N, garments for tonight's festivities have been left for you! Lady Sif will accompany you to the Grand Hall when you're ready!”

He shut the door to give you some privacy and you found the clothes he mentioned. They were nothing like what you were used to, but you somehow managed to figure how everything was supposed to fit. You looked in one of the many reflective surfaces and saw a goddess. It was the first time you looked in a mirror saw yourself as something other than a destructive little girl. This was your chance to start new and be more than you ever thought possible. You already looked the part, now you just had to prove it to yourself that it could be done.

“Y/N, it’s time, are you ready?” Sif’s kind voice came from the door after a gentle knock.

“Yeah, I’m ready!” You tore your eyes away from your reflection and you saw the bright light that had left your eyes so long ago. “Let’s go.”

It was finally gonna be your time in the light.

General Tag List:

@arrow-guy @arcxreactor @liaamari17 @jazzcutie @claws-of-vibranium @themilkface @imagine-assembling-the-avengers @fvckingavengers @vibranium-ass @steebthesmol @avengersimaginings @avengerofyourheart @beccaanne814-blog @kellarter @bovaria 

Just For This Fic:

@dashingdetectivetimelady @avixenrose @sleepyborednerd @goodnightwife @ruffdog921 

[yourbrotherzulu]

A Woman and a Miracle

so... i just thought, I’ll give you a little context here. All y'all funky people don't even know where I am. Besides in a hammock in Peru. With a monkey.

But there is more than this monkey here. There is also the second monkey. I think they are a couple but have some beef at the moment.

There is a shaman. But he doesn’t like the word shaman.

There is a bunch of russians. They don't really smile so much. Like never.

And there is a woman. Well... THE woman. (not the monkey woman, although tecnically we’re all monkeys)

And there is of course:

A MIRACLE

(tadaaa, drums please!)

(thank you, thank you. yeah. alright.)

PART I

You see... miracles are for the truthseeker what data is for the researcher. It is evidence. Spiritual evidence (not the only one of course). Without miracles, faith is just a believe. But with miracles... faith becomes knowing. And life becomes a magic carpet ride. A magic magic carpet ride. Fireworks to the left, music to the right, signs all the way through.

And one thing becomes very clear.

That miracles actually aren't miracles. They are lawful events.

They are just the natural effects of causes set in ones inner realm. Every little thing happens according to laws. Within, without, everywhere, all the time.

If ones perspective towards reality shifts, the whole universe responses. If your perspective shifts to one that is closer to the truth, things immediately run more smoothly. If it shifts a little more, things run in flow state, meaningful coincidences happen, synchronicities, fireworks, music and shit like that. If one perspective shifts right to the center, you hit the jackpot and get a miracle that changes your life with a 180 in an instant. This is the magic of reality. If you have experienced this for a certain number of time, believing stops, knowing starts, knowing that one has a intimate relationship with the universe.

Knowing this, that the cosmos is aware, that the cosmos responds, that the cosmos cares enables one to accept its love. Knowing that you are deeply loved and having an ongoing experience of that

is the real miracle.

Living with this knowledge naturally, lawfully makes one a person touched by grace. The love you receive will overflow. The light that shines on you will reflect to anyone you come in contact with. That kind of person.

A person that perceives abundance instead of scarcity, harmony where once was chaos, beauty where once was disgust, peace where once was turmoil. It changes this persons frequency and makes them saintly, free of greed, ill-will, animosity. This person surely will act beneficial for himself and for others and thus will be someone who bears good fruits, as JC said it.

Miracles, they make one eager to learn more about the spiritual laws, and become more disciplined in their application. One wishes to uncover more and more of this treausure one has stumbled upon inside so that one day one fully realizes ones own Buddha-Nature.There is a little line, if that line is crossed one finds oneself fully in the gravitational field of the selfless Self, the One in the Many, the Soul of Souls.

Because of that, one begins to understand that there is a difference between the morality of religions and societies and the morality of the cosmos that encompasses the whole law of being-ness. One begins to understand that if one does good and contribute to the harmony, peace and happiness of our earthling-family, that includes our brothers and sisters of the animal- and plant-kingdoms as well, one gets rewarded. In the inner kingdom one experiences good vibes, good thoughts, good energy and in the outer realm of the kingdom one is blessed with good relations, harmonious circumstances and material wealth. One begins to understand the true meaning of the Kingdom, which is in fact a fractal. Understanding leads to love. Love leads to care.

And the Kingdom begins to care for one.

As a mother cares for her child.

As a master cares for his student.

As a lover cares for his beloved.

As a friend cares for his friend.

The Kingdom IS the mother, master, lover, friend for such a person.

And this is the beginning of heaven.

Just the beginning. But it changes everything.

That is the teaching. And there is a way. And that way, the beautiful Dhamma is a great jewel in each and every persons life who has come across it.

People will notice. Something is different with you. Wherever you go people will feel the natural mystic in the air. They feel there is no evil in you.

There is a Path. Attaining the Path is the first goal. And practicing it is of utmost importance.

"Practice! Practice a lot, Ananda" said the Buddha to His disciple "and you will find a master hard to find."

“Doing Good. Avoiding doing bad. Purifing oneself! This is the whole of the Dhamma” the Buddha said.

“Love! Love your neighbor as yourself and love your God with all your Heart and Strength and Might! This is the Law and the Prophets” the Christ said.

Practice! Love! Practice Loving! Love Practicing!

Until you cross the thin line and enter the stream.

Then all will be good.

Sotapana.

The Path leads to the line, merges into the stream that carries one to the ultimate.

Practice!

Morality. Mastery over the mind. Wisdom. These are the three disciplines.

...

just a sec

...

shit ran away with me a little

...

lets take a little break

...

la la la

...

intense shit, right?

hmm where were we?

lets start at the beginning...

PART II

ah ja, there were monkeys, shamans, russians (which are actually not important),there was a woman and a miracle.

And all that in the middle of the Peruvian jungle. Where else would one expect monkeys and shamans?

Ages ago, at least one lifetime, I was studying medicine back in Germany. I was quite good and managed it with surprising ease. But I was also a rebel. Ask my mother, she can tell you I already annoyed everyone in kindergarten. I was always critizising what I was doing and testing if the trench we all sit on is really suitable for the future. Many people liked it. Many didn’t. I never cared. I believed in my wings.

So I started researching other ways of healing. I believed in science. I believed in God already. I didn’t believe in religion. And I haven’t had found out yet, that science is a religion in itself. I researched, and smoked a lot of weed, I read testimonials of people who got cured of cancer in the jungles of South America, got healed by this or that ancient herb in God knows what mountain village or African bushtown. I knew people myself, who meditated their diseases away. I heard incredible stories and decided to take them seriously.

And one day I had to come and see for myself.

Now, many years later I am here. In Peru. I quit med-school long ago. I don’t need a professor anymore to teach me the reality of my body and mind. I don’t need a doctor who knows all the theories about health but looks like a bag of old potatoes. I close my eyes and meditate to see the reality of my mind and body. I open my eyes and tap into the present moment to see the reality of the world. I feel my body, use my body, stretch my body, exercise my body, fill my body with good shit, try to avoid bad shit. Try to find balance, stability, strength and ease in posture. I don’t need to study health. I need to practice it. From moment to moment

In Peru, in the remote center of Don Pepe, somewhere in the moskito-infested jungle, taking care not to kick a chicken with every step I take, I am witnessing some amazing stuff.

There is this old abuela. Yesterday I hold her sweating arm, while Pepe was treating her foot. You see, the foot is dead. I mean rotten-dead. Cut-it-off dead. Seeing-the-bones dead. The doctors wanted to amputate. Any sane person would advise this. But not Don Pepe. He was treating it. And the tissues were growing back. Every day. Little by little. The black stinking flesh is regaining color. Where there is no flesh, it is growing back. Fat. Nerve. Muscle. And this is just normal business here.

At night, when we drink Ayahuasca, I see jacked giants breaking out in tears, sobbing for their mother, facing the emotional traumas they have buried deep down in their souls and forgotten about it. At daylight I see them again. Changed. More open. Less dark. Lighter.

And although medical miracles... Not the miracle I want to share tonight.

The miracle has to do with the woman.

But I gotta go back in the days for that. Way back.

When I was studying medicine, I also fell in love with... drugs. Hamburgs techno-scene was hot, the music was fresh, the people cool. Still to this day I believe Hamburg has the dopest people of all cities on Earth. I was taken by it. The MDMA allowed me to open to others, connect in a way I never knew before. I felt as if I was part of something bigger, something beautiful. I felt beautiful myself. I was less tense. More smooth. People genuinely liked me all of a sudden. Chicks liked me. And I liked them. I loved them. I loved the music. I loved the dancing, the sweat, the sexyness. I loved the vibrations. I loved the rush. Not long until I was completely addicted to it.

I needed money. For entries. For drinks. For drugs. For more drinks.

I lied to my mother. I requested money for this or that new medical book, plastic sceleton, or whatever shit I came up with. When she stopped sending me money, because it was just too much, I had a drink with a friend of mine and the next day we bought a few hundred pills and pushed them in the clubs ourselves.

He stopped soon. He said, it destroyed the parties for him. I didn’t stop. I just started. For me it didn’t destroy the parties. It just changed the game to another level. At the beginning it was cool. It was just a side hustle, for a few minutes when I went from the dancefloor to take a piss and someone asked me for something in the bathroom. I was amazed that instead of spending a hundred bucks per night I went home with an additional hundred.

Then two hundred.

Then five hundred.

Then I realized that I can sell pills in Berlin for double the price, triple even, quadruple sometimes. In Hamburg we were family, we knew each other, we couldn’t rip each other off. But in Berlin, my hometown, nobody gave a shit.

Each friday morning, when I was finished raving in Hamburgs `”Baalsaal” I took a ride to Berlin, where I would keep on partying the weekend, to be back in university on monday morning.

In Berlin I made a thousand. Per night.

I always loved the Berghain. It was just another thing. More mature. More naked. Rough and sexy.

They had their own dealers. Not that they worked for the club, but they had their claims there. But soon I realized, they came quite late, because late is when the real party starts. But the tourists didn’t know that. And the tourists were the ones who needed shit. My shit. And I could ask any price I wanted. Because they had no fuckin’ clue. And there was nobody else anyway.

It was fuckin’ gold-rush

Before the first of the home-dealers arrived I already made 2 grand.

For what? For having a great time!

It took a few weeks and I didn’t give a shit about the dealers anymore. They knew me, they liked me, I liked them. I had my regular customers who would party every weekend and would get a line or pill for free every now and then.

Everyone knew me. Everyone knew my shit was awesome. Everyone was my friend. I felt like the coolest cat in the coolest club of the world.

I was shining. I was the sugarman. I was King-fuckin’-Kong!

And I literally had unlimited money.

And then I saw her. Sitting on a black, worn-out leather couch, between two good looking dudes.

Her face was a masterpiece. Her hair looked liked fuckin’ silk. You know, like in the commercials. Like L’oreal or something like that.

She had the vibe. Fresh. Light. And dirty at the same time, ‘cause there are only dirty people in this club.

Before I even said “Hi”, I was in love. Struck by lightning

I said I liked her face. It was a stupid line. But she liked it and smiled.

“I am Josi!” she said. And I was lost. She had me. She just needed to take it.

We talked and danced and heeell yeah

she had a groove.

A girl with a groove like that, a girl who knows how to bounce the shit out of the dancefloor, that is rare, like purple moons. They exist. I saw them. But only a few times.

Her life's goal, she said, "is just being in the Here and Now"

My God, I would have killed anyone for this woman.

I had already sold all my stuff that night and had now only eyes for her. I liked to pay for her drinks and get massive bundles of money out of my pocket. She was pushing dope herself and when she heard how much I already made that night she just couldn't believe it. Like she really didn’t believed it. Until I showed her all my money. I tried to impress her by telling her I sell dope since I was 14, which was true, but I stopped at 18 and started doing armed robberies instead.

She wasn’t focused, so I took the rest of her dope and pushed it within the next 30 minutes.

We drank so much. We snorted even more. I put two lines on the screen of my phone and she sniffed them both away with a single stroke. We laughed. The smiles in our faces wouldn't stop.

But we didn't go home with each other.

The whole week I was thinking about her. Monday, while looking into the microscope. Tuesday, while cutting of some fat of some old dead dude. Wednesday while reading stuff in the library. On Thursday Night I started my business, back in Hamburgs “Baalsaal”. On Friday Night I continued in Berghain. She wasn’t there. I should have slept afterwards. But I didn’t. Saturday Night, still without sleep, I walked like a zombie to Berghain. I had to see her.

As usual, I had shitloads of pills and powders in my bag. I always hid my stash in the bushes somewhere in walking distance to the club and would take only smaller amounts at once with me into the club, hidden in a secret pocket of my fluffy red jacket. But today wasn’t always. Today was pay-day for my sins.

I forgot to hide my shit.

When they checked my bag at the entrance, and they always check everyone, they pulled out hundreds of pills and God knows how many bags with speed.

As the police arrived, all I was thinking was

"fiNaLly...sLEep"

Not counting the countless nights I spend in cells of different police stations in Berlin, it was about to enter my second real jail-time.

My mind couldn’t process what was going on. I really couldn’t comprehend at all what was happening. Just a minute ago, I was havin’ fun, dancin’, bouncin’, makin’ cash and now... what? I mean... whaaaaat?

It was just too many drugs. Too many months, too many weekends, too many nights. At the end I took more than ten pills per night, not knowing how many lines of speed and other stuff. The stop was too abrupt. It was as if my life stopped from 200 to zero in a second and my mind just crashed through the front window and I was flying through a void without anything to tell me where the fuck is up and where is down.

The second night in prison, I took the pants of the pyjama, that they gave me, tied one nice knot around the bars and another one around my neck. When I jumped, I realized that the knot wasn't nice after all. I was sitting on my butt, hurting, thinking "fUck iT" and went to bed.

The next day I was brought to my permanent cell, and the first thing I did, as the warden stepped outside and closed the heavy door behind him, was making a really nice knot, but this time properly.

I hung a few moments from the bars, then my bodies adrenaline was having a word with me and instinctively my feet were reaching for the edge of the bed. After 7 very long seconds, they managed to get hold of it, slide it a little closer and finally stand on it.

“gODdaMn” I thought with a messy mind... “I hAve a pRoBlemmm”

On the same day, I went to the doctor, told him that I am not stable and definitely gonna kill myself in here. I told him the whole story, he seemed to be really cool. He put a red dot on my cell’s door so that the wardens would check every hour whether I was still alive and fresh or already dead and stinky.

The next day I was brought to a double cell where I would live together with an arab dude who got catched selling heroin in the subway for a wage of 50 bucks a day. He was alright. Jerking off every night like there is no tomorrow... on the top floor of our bunkbed. But otherwise he was decent..

There I was. Looking out of the window. Seeing nothin’ but walls and barbwire and grey clouds.

It was winter.

And the months passed by.

I was praying, begging, crying. I felt abandoned by God, whom I met in my first jail-time as an 18 year old. I had no hope. My lawyer told me, for sure it's gonna be a few years, especially concerning my criminal record. I couldn’t grasp my situation. Just a moment ago, I was a bright young man, studying medicine, on his way to become a childrens doctor or a surgeon or whatever, the pride of his mother... and now... in prison... because I sold drugs on dirty toilets to dirty people of whom I was the dirtiest of them all.

My mom was visiting me once a week. She developed an ulcer in her stomach due to the intense stress and worry her imprisoned child caused her. That ulcer made her breath stink like shit and when I was brought back to my cell I would cry for hours while realizing what I have done to her. Silently, without sobbing. I wasn’t alone in the cell after all.

And I knew what was I about to do to her next would kill her. But I was so done. My brain was properly fucked by tons of drugs. My life was properly fucked anyway. And God left me. I was in Satan's custody now.

There was no hope.

I waited for my cell's companion to go to a certain appointment. I planned everything carefully. I pushed everything out of reach this time. No bed, no chair, nothing. I whispered my last words: "Sorry. For everything."

And then...

I fell asleep. Right where I was standing.

And then someone gave me a heavy slap right in my face.

I must have fallen on the floor. Two big muscular men with the white dress of psychiatry-nurses where standing over me. One white man and one black man. Both of them had tattoos all over their visible skin and army-like haircuts.

"Yo!" the white man was barking at me.

"Get yourself together, fool! Get your fucking shit together. You can do this! You have the strength. Just get your fucking shit together. You’re here for a reason. Stop whining and start learning, fool!"

And I was like “whaaaat?”

Then they both took me at the collar and threw me upwards.

And I was thrown through the ceiling of my cell, even through the ceilings of the cells on top of that and through the roof and I was flying further and further up until I came to a hold around 200m above the prison, overlooking the whole district, the buildings, the cars and the tiny people that would move like ants all around. The air was crisp and birds were flying around me.

And then gravity kicked in.

"Oh shit!" 

I was falling back down with an incredible speed, smashed back in my body, and woke up.

I was feeling fresh, energized and alive. There was hope after all.

For the first time in months there was a certain calmness in my mind.

I spent my days puzzling or writing love letters for all the arab inmates in my block, so that they could send them to their wifes outside, since every letter had to be in German, so that the wardens could read it before it would be sent. In return I received little jars of plum-jam or chocolates. Eating something sweet can be incredible nice in such a pale environment.

I returned to my regimen of workouts in the cell. Push-Ups and Sit-Ups. I stretched and bend.

And as my mind became clearer and clearer and more and more letters from my friends arrived I started to realized what I did on the spiritual level. You see, and I am kidding you not, I always took Jesus first miracle, when he turned water into wine into some kind of legitimation for taking drugs. But I just completely lost all measure. My friend, who stopped dealing after a few parties was wiser than me. I didn’t see clearly. I let my mind to be corrupted by greed, clouded by money. I reversed-enginereed the situation I was in and recognized, that for the last months I was only thinking about money, money, money. All day long I was calculating the numbers. How much I would spend on new supplies. How much I would earn in this club or that club and how long it would take to be really fuckin’ rich.

I read the many letters of my friends outside who were thinking of me and wishing me good luck. Before my arrest I degraded them all to mere customers. I recalled that when I met any of them I only cared about whether they need somethin for the next weekend. That was all. I didn’t hang out with them anymore if they didn’t buy stuff. I was a shell. God didn't abandon me. I abandoned him. And I didn’t even notice.

I smiled. Now I knew why I was here. Not because God stopped loving me. But because He was loving me so much, that he needed to correct me with some tough love. Because He cared, I was here. So that I can change. And become righteous once again.

A few weeks passed by and they revisited their decision whether to leave me in custody until the trial or not as it is the formal procedure in the land.

I was brought to a little court-room inside the prison.

Above the door of the room, where I would meet the judge was a triangle with an eye inside of it. And I knew God would be in there too.

The judge opened the procedure. He read my criminal records. All my arrests for fist-fights, for breaking in to cars or other stupid shit. But strangely my conviction for armed robbery was not in the list, although this was by far the heaviest crime of them all.

They had the results from the laboratory, he said. He didn’t smile.

Apparently I was selling pills the weekend I got arrested that were so heavily stretched that there was almost no real MDMA or other classified substance in any of them. The same was the case for the powders. I remembered, that on that weekend quite a few people came back to me and complained about the quality of the dope, or even wanted their money back.

You see, God works in mysterious ways. Especially when it comes to tweaking numbers. He seems to have a thing for that.

They had to let me go. The amount of substance in the drug was just too little.

Hope.

I couldn't believe it. They found at least two hundred pills and another hundred grams of speed and now they say it all was just smarties and baking powder.

What a miracle!

And still, not the miracle I want to talk about.

My mom picked me up from the prison gate. She was crying. Relieved. And disappointed of course. Realizing that she didn't know the young man in front of her who used to made her proud, who was to become a doctor, her little boy.

She made me clean up the garden. It was still freezing cold. The winter was long.

All I could think about was Josi. The angel I just met before I went to prison.

I called her. Her voice was cold. She didn't want to meet me.

And my heart fell together in itself like a ballon pierced by needle.

...

Although they gave me a lifelong ban in Berghain I managed to slip in a few times. Dancing in Panorama Bar I saw her standing with a friend on the little balcony from which one could see the whole dancefloor. She pointed towards me and I clearly heard her saying to her friend: "That's him! That’s the guy I told you about!" You see the F1-Soundsystem in that joint is quite remarkable and can erase those frequencies out of the music that are used when humans are talking with each other. This allows you to actually have conversations although the speakers are pumping sound like anything.

I knew that she knew that I was there. But when I approached her she pretended to be surprised to see me and I noticed how uncomfortable she was just talking to me.

I was desperate. So in love. And she didn't give a shit. It seemed. Some friends of mine told me she was always asking about me. I was confused. So confused. Maybe she was too... But I felt I am somehow still important to her.

Although I was not in jail anymore, I was still imprisoned.

Although I had received a little bit clarity of mind in the prison, it was all gone by now. The drugs took their toll. I had to pay my debts now. My mind was not functioning. My emotions were completely in chaos. My thoughts were dull and messy. I had problems to process language. My memory had no grip at all. All my attempts to do anything worthwhile failed. My relationships were bad. Most of my friends somehow abandoned me. I hated myself. I was a broken human being. Completely kaputt. I was staring right at it. And I just couldn't escape.

I started an apprenticeship in a carpentry workshop but I just couldn't make it work. Whatever I did, it was full of flaws, uncomplete, dirty and way too often I even damaged the work of others by accident or just mere mindlessness. I was slow, forgot too many things and noticeably wasn't mentally present. While my thinking had no power at all, the power of my emotions was way too much to handle and brought me down to my knees every day. I wouldnt pray. I would beg for mercy, whining and wailing. Especially in construction, where there is sharpness required and a lot of testosterone in the air, this emotional turmoil just completely fucked me. Every half an hour I went to the toilet to have a panic attack, to cry, to look in the mirror and saw some kind of clown I didn’t recognize. My co-workers started to talk behind my back. At first. Later they talked shit about me while I was standing right in the damn room.

I couldn't talk to friends, although there were a few who sticked with me, who were deeply worried. But I couldn’t accept their love. I couldn’t be loved.

I begged God for my death. Even for my mother to die, so that I could kill myself without hurting her.

Every free moment I was thinking about suicide. Or about Josi.

It was a Dark Night of the Soul. And a very long one.

I lived in a community then with a few people. My presence always had and still has a big impact on the atmosphere in a room. In those days for the bad. I was grumpy, frustrated with myself, alone, hopeless. The others were increasingly irritated by my presence, my moodyness, my tensions and I noticed that painfully every moment on every single day. And thus I stepped into darkness even more.

I wrote a letter. Took a kitchen knife with me. Went to the graveyard right around the corner, sat next to a tombstone, took a deep breath and was about to start the cut.

I closed my eyes.

All of a sudden I saw images. Vivid. Deep. Colorful. High Resolution. As if I would be right in them. There was an ocean, sparkling water, warm sunshine. An amazing coast. There were friends and me on a sailing boat. We were laughing. I saw myself in a nice room, playing guitar, singing. I saw myself in front of a canvass, painting, wearing torn clothes with red and green sprinkles on them. And a hat. I saw myself standing on top of a mountain. Watching the world in 360 degrees. I saw myself holding a child in my arms. 

I opened my eyes.

I dropped the knife and felt hope once again that there might be a future for me, a life, in bright colors with red and green sprinkles. One day.

But for now everything was still grey.

A friend told me about a silent ten day meditation retreat. It was called “Vipassana”, she said. I had never heard about it.

And although I was always interested in meditation and yoga, I didn’t applied for the sake of meditating. All I wanted to everyone around me to shut the up for ten days. For me shutting up for ten days. For being alone. For not disturbing anyone with my mere existence.

Without that course I would be dead by now, that much I know. And now, many years later, I would go through all of it once more, just to be brought to this technique.

From the first day on afterwards, my cognition started to function again. Little by little but tangible. My emotions were still chaotic and I panicked a lot, almost every day. But whenever I remembered to apply what I have learned from Vipassana, my emotions immediately became less abstract, less overwhelming.

Emotions stripped away from there mental projections and reduced to physical sensations were something I could handle. My panick stopped being a violent rush of self-doubt, negative memories, bad projections of the future and started to be an increased heartbeat, a weird feeling in the stomach, coldness in my limbs. That was still unpleasant, but nothing that would whoop my ass.

What once were huge, dangerous monsters in my bedroom became just the shadows of a little dwarfs standing on my sideboard as soon as i switched on the light of awareness that Vipassana taught me.

I came back to life. I stretched and breathed. I meditated. I bought a guitar.

I wasn't able to write again, but I hoped... maybe one day I will have the strentgh, joy and confidence to speak once more. Maybe one day I my spirit would be strong again, so that I would dare to inspire. Maybe one day I would have a voice again.

The colors came back. One after the other.

But Josi didn't. She avoided me. Sometimes we met by coincidence. There was no affection from her at all. And I turned into a little puppy, needy for her affirmation, her confirmation that I would exist.

Back then I knew nothing about masculine or feminine energies. I didn’t know what a man was, or a woman, and that a true man or woman has always both energies in state of balance. I only knew I was in love with an angel that would rather eat glass alone then have a dinner with me.

But I kept on thinking and dreaming about her.

...

Fast forward a few years.

...

PART III

The Golden Gate Bridge was a fucking majestically thing. The bay sparkled blue and the sky was as blue as a sky can be. I loved San Francisco, especially when I could see it from my friends balcony in Oakland.

Visiting California was always on top of my bucket list.

I was feeling great that morning. I had a funny dream the night before and dreamt about Josi, what would happen every few months. After I woke up, still half asleep on the couch, I opened her Facebook page and saw that she had an Instagram account which I checked out for the first time. I saw hundreds and hundreds of professional model-photos. She made it. I was happy. At first.

It took just a few moments and I felt like a total loser. The images in my mind of her being with beautiful actors, models, fashion-creators or whatever society-shit there is, overwhelmed me. I felt small. I didn’t accomplish anything. I was just traveling the world, doing nothing worthwhile besides finding myself. While she must be quite wealthy by now, or having a rich man by her side, I had nothing to offer. The only thing I had was God, but at least the relationship between Him and I was improving for a while now.

Something inside of me wouldn’t have it. Something inside me wouldn’t crawl back under the blanket and feel sorry for myself. If she can pursue her dreams, than I could do the same thing.

I made myself a nice coffee, lit up a cigarette, booted my laptop and did something I haven’t done for years.

I wrote.

Nothing long. Nothing good even. But at least something.

I found my mind back years ago. My Heart some months ago while in India.

But my passion I found back that very morning.

I felt grateful. I enjoyed my life. Very much. But not to be able to write was always tormenting me in the back of my mind.

I stepped outside into a beautiful sunny day and decided to contact Josi after so many years. A textmessage wouldn’t be good. It needed to be something more personal. So I made a video for her and expressed my gratefulness for the Inspiration I received from seeing her following her dream. I believe to this day, that this is the best way to help others. By living oneself to fullest. Living life like it’s golden. I sent the video. Stepped into my car. And drove north where I would sit my second Vipassana-course, 5 years after my first one.

And again it completely changed my life.

That course, I realized already on the third day, would be one of the most important events in my life. I had a certain experience that is called "Bhangha". A complete dissolution of a solidified area next to my spine. I had a pain there that tormented me for two years. It couldn’t got cured by doctors, chiropractors or yoga-asanas. Vipassana is a pali-word, the language spoken by the Buddha and means as much as seeing things as they are. And by exactly doing this, observing the painful sensations, aware and equanimously... it just melted. It was as if I threw a tablet into a glas of water and what was a solid peace at first just bubbled away. That happened to other solidified spots too. I felt opened energy lines, the nadis, vibrating throughout my body. Sometimes it was as if it was raining the other way round, that thousand of tiny drops would leave my back and ascend to the sky. Bhangha!

Bhangha. One the most important and at the same time most dangerous experiences for a meditator. A milestone. That is why it is called little stream-entry. It shows one the true power of the technique, and thus one realizes what’s gonna happen if one continues with it. It shatters one’s view of the reality of ones own mind-body phenomenon. Naga-Rupa. And it is probably the most pleasant experience ever. Even if it just occurs partially, as it did to me. This amazing pleasantness itself and the simultaneously happening dissolution of unpleasant pains... that is why it is not only one of the most important experiences but also one of the most dangerous. They warn you! You can meditate wrong! You can create new impurities and tensions if you develop cravings for the sensations of it or for the progress that it seems to be! But somehow, during that retreat I didn’t hear that. I would pay a price for that. Much later.

In that retreat, I had a few openings of the third eye as well. I saw the structures and the fractals of the cosmos, the blueprint of creation, of myself, of God. I received the second represantion of the meaning of the Kingdom. But besides that it was just spectacular. I was thinking about fire and BOUM was sitting right in front of a camp-fire, feeling the warmth, hearing the crackles, seeing the vivid red and orange of the flames. I was thinking about water and BOUM was standing naked right in a waterfall, feeling the fresh cold, hearing the splashes, seeing the vivid blue and turquoise of the water. I saw a whole bunch of other stuff too, archetypes, galaxies, battles in outer space, even Darth Vader coming out of a solidified sensation with a laser-sword. It was a trip. But although definitely induced by my brains own DMT (the way things look are just too unique) it was much more controlable, integratable and memorizable then smoking the shit.

When the course was over there was not a trace of doubt left, that I hit the jackpot with this technique. I studied in the years before many spiritual ways, healing techniques, philosophies and will always practice the eight limbs of Yoga. But this technique, taught and applied by the Buddha himself, was the only one I have encountered, that would lead to full Enlightenment. As it did for himself and for so many others after him.

I was heavily meditated. Calm, clear and confident.

When I activated my phone there was no reply to the message I sent to Josi though.

But I knew in that moment, probably for the first time in my life, that regardless if I see her ever again, I will be happy. This knowing was on a very deep level and increased my peace even more. I knew it didn’t matter at all what happened. What I did with either way, was what mattered.

You see. A miracle is not just the effect. The cause is what really counts. And the cause is always a change in one’s perspective. That is the true miracle. Whatever happens in the outside then, is merely a confirmation that one’s view has been corrected. And that the cosmos is very well aware. This awareness of the cosmos, it's responsiveness and care for the issues of it's inhabitants... this is what I call God.

When I took my phone the next time, there was a little red dot with the number one inside in the corner of the app. I received a message. It was Josi.

The next day came another one. We texted back and forth. I didn’t feel like a puppy anymore. But I felt like it's christmas everyday, with every message I received. When she switched to voice messages, and I could listen to her voice once again, my face consisted only of a big fat smile all day long.

We didn’t manage to have a call though. There was the time-difference between California and Berlin and since I was staying in a house of a ganjafarmer far out in the californian nowhere I had only a very shitty connection. If at all.

Then... suddenly... the last message ended with...

"I just can't live anymore"

And then nothing more. Internet was gone again. I was freaking out. Whatthefuck? Whatthefuck? Whatthefuckisgoingon?

I drove to the next city. Called her.

She told me that she was very sick. That the many years of drugs took their toll. That she continued long after I was out and took some heavy shit. Her mind was broken. She only had fake friends, that stole all her money. She was alone. Therapies didn’t help. She didn’t had hope.

...

"Then join me to Peru!" I said.

It took her a few days, but then

..she agreed.

I couldn't believe it. I would have traveled around the globe to see her once again. Just one more time. And now she would. Not to see me maybe, but to find healing, but nonetheless we would finally meet.

I find it always astonishing. In the moment were you stop craving for your dreams to come true, when you allow the universe to work, what once was chased for so long just turns around and knocks on the door. Although with a bitter by-taste this time. But broken things can be repaired, so not too bitter.

Worry not about what you shall eat, or what you shall wear, where you shall live. Your heavenly Father knows what you need. Worry only about the Kingdom and everything else will be given to you.

In thee days she comes.

And that is the miracle.