#and then they all collectively reach earth and the mortals freak out about all this too

[worstloki]

Loki: don't kill me, i have a wife!

Thanos: do you think fate cares about that?

Loki: oh this isn't a plea for mercy to save my life, it's a warning for yours

Thanos:

Sigyn, landing a ship by crashing it on Thanos: *muffled screaming as the door opens* WHY DOES EVERYONE WANT LOKI DEAD!

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader)

Warnings: None 

Word count: 1.4k

Prompt : So this just came to me after wanting so many Winx fics, Y/N is found in the woods by Silva, she’s a changeling like Bloom but she has multiple powers, he takes her back to Alfea where she will start her journey with the other students, however the time spent with Silva leads them to get attached to each other etc...... it’s gonna be a series.

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He had found you in the woods, crying, alone, next to a Burned one. A dead Burned one. That’s how your story started. Alfea was next on the list. 

When Silva had found you, you were a runaway, no family left, no place to call home, a human… well he thought. Until you told him your “Magic powers” killed someone. The someone, being the Burned one. The powers, meaning you were a fairy who had been brought up in the mortal realm just like Bloom, but obviously you didn’t know that. To you, fairies were things of myths and legends, little girls bedtime stories. 

That was a couple of months ago, just before school had started. After Silva had taken you to headmistress Dowling, she was shocked to learn there was another Changeling on earth, learning about your background, no family, no where to go, she offered you a place at the prestigious school for Fairies and you agreed, wanting to know how to use your abilities and more about where you came from. Part of you knew that even if you had said no, Farah wouldn’t have let you leave, having multiple powers wasn’t usual, at least it hadn’t been heard of in hundreds of years, she basically said she’d keep an eye on you. 

Luckily for you, you got to grips with the place before all of the other students filtered back in for the new school year. You’d been put into a room that you would eventually share with 5 other girls, apparently one of them was a princess? You’d think being there before everyone else would be a little boring, but it wasn’t, you had Silva. 

Since he found you that day in the woods you’d become pretty close, actually, really close. You confided in him when ever you needed someone to talk to and he even started giving you lessons on how to fight, hand to hand combat was never something a fairy needed to do, that’s what your powers were for, but he had promised that it wouldn’t hurt to learn a few nifty tricks. Between training with him, you’d also met Tara, one of the girls you’d be sharing a room with. She’d arrived early with her brother and dad. Her dad being one of the professors at the school. You got on like a house on fire, she quickly became your friend much to Silva’s annoyance, it meant that you spent less time with him, but he didn’t let you know that.

Tara knew everything there was to know about you. Where you’d been raised, about your past non-existent family life, the day you realised you had powers, multiple powers, and then the day Silva found your crying over a mound of burned flesh. You told her about the time you’d been spending with Silva, the lessons he’d been giving you, and it didn’t take her long to figure out just how much you liked him. She was all for it, even though there was a huge age gap. “The heart wants what it want’s, and to be honest, I think he likes you back.” That’s all she had to say on the matter. Did he? Did he like you back that way? 

It was the day before everyone was due to arrive at the school. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You’d heard that there would be another girl from earth arriving too, so at least you weren’t the only one people would look at like a freak. You’d been having lessons with Headmistress Dowling, she was helping you practise and explore all of the abilities you had before you were thrust into classes, hopefully that would help you seem a little more ‘Normal.’

Also, you now knew Sky. Silva had introduced you one day when you were having your lesson with him. He was practically his son, which… was a little weird considering Sky was the same age as you, but it didn’t matter in the long run. You hadn’t known Sky long, but you knew that you would get on just like you did with Tara.

It kind of bummed you out that today would be the last day you’d get to train with Silva. He’d have to go back to being the strict soldier of a man he was, a teacher… your teacher.. long gone would be the carefree happy man you joked and messed around with openly when no one was around. It didn’t surprise you when you saw him angrily hacking away at a wooden dummy with his sword as you approached the outdoor training area. You frowned, maybe he was feeling as bummed out as you were. Or maybe you were deluded and his anger had nothing to do with you and the fact that you’d both have to stop spending as much personal time together.

“Oi, what did that dummy ever do to you hu?” You laughed as you sauntered over to the make shift arena. He looked up, his forehead beading with sweat, smiling at you as you approached. It was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did when you greeted him. Yup something is defiantly wrong. 

“Saul, what’s wrong.” He sighed and put down his weapon, leaning it against the now lop-sided dummy. He came over to you, putting his hands on your arms in a comforting way, something he did often. He liked to be close, touchy feely, it relaxed him. 

“Well for one darling, you’re going to have to get used to calling me Mr Silva and not by my first name, and two, I’m annoyed that things will have to change when tomorrow comes. You won’t be around as much, i’ll be training the future of the army…” His thoughts wondered off, his hands still lingering at your sides. It confused you a little, you knew that you were miffed, but it was unusual for Saul to show his emotions so openly. Maybe you hadn’t realised how much he liked spending time with you. It gave you butterflies. In his daze, you moved his arms so they were more at your side, then moved in wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Your cheek pressed firmly against his chest. For a minute he was still, then he leant into it, his large arms coming around you and his chin resting on the top of your head. “Y/N, you know this is wrong right? If you feel anything like how I feel then it’s wrong.” He sighed and hugged you tighter. That confirmed it, he DID like you as much as you liked him. But to you it wasn’t wrong, and you knew he didn’t actually feel that way either. It was just wrong by societies standards. You didn’t care. 

“No one has to know Saul, it’s no one else’s business okay?” He looked down at you sadly. You didn’t like the way he looked at you. You had a feeling, you knew what was coming next.

“Y/N, we can’t be together. Not while you’re a student and i’m a teacher. It goes against so many rules here..” Tears were pooling in your eyes, before they could drop, you felt Silva’s soft rosey lips collect them, kissing your face tenderly. “Please don’t cry darling, you know how I feel about you, but it can’t work, it won’t work…. by the end of the week, you’ll think of me as nothing less than just another one of your teachers.” This couldn’t be how the two months of you being with each other every single day ended, finally letting each other know how you feel and ending up with this outcome. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. You wouldn’t stand there and beg though. One thing Silva had taught you was how to be stronger, since being found that day in the woods to now, you’d grown immensely, you weren’t as weak as you used to be. 

“Fine, whatever you want Saul. But you also know how I feel about you and it isn’t going to change.” With all the confidence you could muster, you stood on your tip toes and looked him in the eyes, his grip on your waist tightened and you leant in, lightly taking the back of his head, your fingers dancing softly at the nape of his neck, and you kissed him with everything you had in you. They say when you meet your soulmate, you��ll see sparks fly, fireworks erupt, feel like you were floating. You didn’t have any of those. You had all of them and then some, when you opened your eyes you knew he’d felt it too. 

But that’s where you left him, standing with his mouth slightly slack, staring at your retreating figure, the sky opened up, only to start crying with you. 

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Please let me know what you think, as per usual if you want to be tagged let me knowwww in the comments. Please please reblog and like, follow etc.... I plan on making this into a series, because I love like magical, powers, forbidden love kinda shizzzzz <3 

PART 2 --- CLICK HERE 

[rndavus]

The Collector

TW/CW: mentions of We*pons, bl*od, d***h, vi*lence

     I purchased a painting from the merchant's stall at the back of an abandoned alleyway, it looked wonderful. It really did. The gorgeous face of a middle-aged woman played with my lonely heart with a devilish smile, making my breathing uncontrollable. 

    I was in the habit of collecting paintings, mostly portraits of beautiful young women. One might have called me a connoisseur of the beauties of the visual arts. As I walked with the bag I was keeping the canvas in, it seemed to become heavier with every step. I tried to protect it from all the Victorian dangers that could've damaged the painting. By the time I had reached the doorstep of my house, my arms ached as the weight of the bag began to make me understand how Atlas must've felt holding Earth in his arms. 

    I entered my house, a familiar smell coming to me as I walked past the threshold. Everything I had grown accustomed to and took a chair on which I placed the bagged painting. After I removed the cloth, exposing the naked, revealed canvas for my delighted gaze. Oh, how beautiful she still was, although her smile had gone astray. I could see no more glee on her face. Instead, she looked at me with widened eyes. Her lips slightly parted, exposing her front teeth in the candle light that lit up the room. She slumped to the side a little. 

    "How could it have changed?" 

    The painting also looked worn to me, as if decay had somehow gotten to it in that small amount of time. As I bought it before, the canvas looked new. That is what attracted me to it so much, what urged me to buy this work of magnificent art. The painting appeared as if it had just been created. As I looked at the painting then, it was scratched up, old, and almost ready to be thrown away. There were cuts in canvas everywhere and the paint had scratches, deep enough to have taken parts of the paint away. I analyzed it for hours, my mind was unable to process the strange sight that I observed. 

    I got up and walked away from the painting to get a whiskey. Perhaps that would straighten out the confusion so heavily set on me. I took a few sips from the bottle of whiskey that had stood on the counter since the last couple of days and turned around to take another glance at the portrait. 

    "By God!" 

    I gazed at it as I noticed it seemed like the frame had been broken. When I bought it, there had been no damage to it, nor as I brought it in. It was in pristine condition. To see damage to my new canvas saddened me. It used to be such a beautiful painting, and presently, the painting appeared more decrepit with my every glance . 

    To prevent any further damage, I decided to watch it more closely. I grabbed a chair from the table in the small dinner area, shoved it to the opposite side of the painting, and stared at the painting, refusing to take my eyes from it. For hours, I kept a close watch on it, not allowing this mystery to unfold any more and my painting to become more damaged than it already was. But staring can be more tiresome than one would think. After a long passage of time, in which I denied my eyes the rest they needed; that they demanded, they forced themselves to close. 

    Hours went by with me sleeping in that chair, guarded by the painting across me. As I awoke, my shock was immense. The painting had lost all its color. There stood a gray painting in front of me. No more were the colors vibrant. But the colors were not the worst of it. Those eyes - the eyes that were vibrant when I observed the painting before, were dull. The color had disappeared from them. They looked horrifying. What beauty had once lied in them was a long-gone fantasy. It broke my heart to see the eyes staring back at me with such a vacancy. 

    Why the painting was acting in such a manner, I don't know. Perhaps it was the paint that was of an inferior quality, perhaps it was bad luck, but the radiant image was fading with such speed that I couldn't keep up with it.  I thought about staring at it again , but my mind quickly told me that in the long run, this would be futile, as I would grow tired yet again, and my consciousness would eventually extinguish. I stood up, walked back to the bottle, and then heard it. A short groan, as of someone waking up and gasping for air. It was impossible though, since I was alone in the house. 

    I tell you, I am not insane, nor do I have the tendency to hear things that weren't there. But as I stood by the counter and reached for another bottle of whiskey after having finished the last one, I heard another groan come from behind me, close to the painting, but not from it.

    My heart raced within my chest as I jolted around and freaked out. The bottle of whiskey dropped as I turned, my hand shoving it off the counter and hit the ground. For a moment, I stayed still, expecting to hear the sound again. But alas, my silence was answered by more silence. My eyes darted to each corner of the room, scanning whether I could, before hearing the sound again, see the origin of the sound that was chilling me. Yet again, I was met with failure. 

    With my heart still racing, I bent over to pick up the bottle off the floor. My ears kept listening to my surroundings as I cleaned the floor, expecting to hear that dreadful sound again. The more I listened, the more it seemed like all sound was starting to be sucked from the room. I walked to the window and opened it. I hoped to hear horseshoes prancing and the wheels of carriages rolling on the stone roads, birds chirping, people talking, or even the leaves from the trees being rustled by the summer wind. Instead, I heard the groan again, now coming from right behind me, almost at the place where I stood.

    My head turned to the source of the sound. It was now close enough for me to locate where the sound came from. It came from the floorboards. It was in the room, there was no doubt. I was sure that it came from under the floor now. I know I am not insane, and I know that I heard it from there. You might say that a groan could never come from the floor. Where else would it come from? My eyes glanced over at the painting once more, and the sight I beheld terrified me. The woman in the painting looked at me with those gray eyes. Perhaps even through my soul. Her lips curled into a small grin as she gazed at me.

     A loud gasp escaped me with an impressive echo which overwhelmed the otherwise silent room. I observed the room, fear taking over my mind. My head felt dizzy, and my stomach felt as if it was about to spill all the contents of the day to the ground. My breathing became loud and heavy. What was going on? Why had this simple painting brought this insanity into my home?

    "My God!" My lungs inflated in synchrony with the words, "Why have I deserved this? Why have you brought this misery to me? What sins have I committed to deserve such punishment upon my mortal soul?" 

    I received no response from the God that I had once adored. I still stood in the room, alone, pestered by the loud groan. I turned around and dropped to my knees. I began desperately looking through all the cracks of the floor, searching whether I could see through them and, perhaps, discover the source of the horrible sound. 

    Then I heard another groan. This one came from a different place. It sounded different and was more guttural. It was somewhat louder than the others.I quickly ran to the kitchen and took the first knife that I could find. I held it tightly in my hand as I walked around the room and scanned every inch of it, trying to determine from where the new torturous sound came.

    As time went by, it started to seem as if the room filled with the vile groaning. It filled my ears until I could no longer hear anything else, nor think about anything else. I had to stop it before it would have cost me my entire sanity. Wherever I looked, it appeared to become the one source of the ear-shattering noise. In the insanity that was beginning to conquer my mind, I could suddenly distinctly hear the source of another groan. It was the closet - the damned closet. I marched towards it and opened it, the uncontrollable force of my anger pulling the closet door nearly out of its hinges. 

    There she was: another painting. The painting of a young girl which I had brought only a few days ago. How beautiful she looked! Yet, she had begun boring me all those days ago. That was an issue I had since my early years. I would get something new, and within a short amount of time, I'd become bored with it and needed to get rid of it, as it would become a bothersome thing for my eyes. For that reason, I had placed the painting within the closet so my eyes wouldn't have to look upon it. The gaze of the girl in the painting looked directly into mine. I saw the mouth move, and before a groan could come out, I smashed the knife into the canvas, ripping through it.

    Suddenly, a loud knocking on my door disrupted the salvation I delivered myself. I jerked the knife back and forth while I watched the door. I looked at the knife, and saw that my hands were covered in a scarlet liquid, sticky substance. My mind could only grasp this to be paint.  I looked at it with raised eyebrows and smirked at the prospect of having stopped at least part of that terrible sound. My enjoyment was short-lived as the knocking at my door became louder. almost louder than the groans were. I began walking to the door, marching over the floorboards and through the deafening noise. I pulled the door open, and in my anger I stabbed the knife into whoever stood outside, adding to the noise that was already enraging me.

    My eyes grew wider as I saw a police officer standing before me. The large fellow looked at me in shock. As I looked over at my hand, I realised I had stabbed his colleague in the stomach. He sat on his knees, as life slowly left his body. His pained gaze darted at me as the sounds of his teeth grinding tightly together ground against my mind.

    That brings us to today. I am now sitting in a cell. It is tiny, but I will soon be out of her and be guided to the gallows. They tell me that I murdered many women... That my house was filled with victims... That the stench of the dead women could be smelled everywhere in my house... Their words confuse me. I couldn't even hurt a fly. Yet they keep telling me that I'm a killer?! They said that I had abducted a woman that day, strangled her, and placed her dead body upon a chair in my house. They also said there were corpses of women in the closet and under the floorboards. I now sit in my cell confused, able to only conjure the sight of the many paintings that I had bought. 

    I am sure that no women, dead or alive, were in my house. I can swear to that, as God is my witness. I was alone in that house as the police arrested me. I merely collected paintings. That was all which was present in my house. Now they are calling me "insane", but as I have stated before: I am not insane. Of that fact I am sure. Never have I felt insane, nor have I felt any urge to put harm upon anyone. I merely enjoyed collecting my paintings. The only insanity that may have pierced through my sanity is how I became bored with the paintings after a while, and kept putting them away in various places around my house. 

    But it doesn't matter. I have already been declared insane, and thus, my words aren't believed by anyone. No matter how much I speak, the gallows shall be my final destination. That is a fact of which I am sure. 

[made-me-deep-blue]

kamilah x mc - dear my dear.

prologue; the eternal queen.

-

“When the sap of the tree rests in the blessed chalice, 

The skies shall turn red, the earth shall be torn asunder,

And the First shall walk again.”

A curse that would repeatedly haunt a queen who would continue to live after the Battle of New York in 2020.

Manhattan, New York, 28 January 2120

Exactly a hundred years after the Battle of New York, a young and promising woman by the name of Camila Sayed walked through the lobby of Ahmanet Financial, silently buzzing with excitement for her interview as the CEO’s executive assistant. 

There were both men and women walking around alike, either preoccupied with speaking to colleagues and clients, or talking away to their phones, typing busily on their laptops. The clicks of heeled shoes were familiar sounds to Camila, having been an intern in a major bank office building in the heart of Singapore.

Camila made her way towards the woman who matched the description that she had scrawled out loosely on a piece of sticky note from the email she had received prior. She was none other than the VP of the company, Liliane Spencer, who was dressed in a cream-white blouse and a monotone checkered pencil skirt.

The vice president looked up from her clipboard and eyed the taller woman in front of her. “Are you Camila Sayed?”

“Yes, Miss Spencer,” Camila reeled her enthusiasm in to sound professional.

“Good, you’re on time,” Liliane sighed, turning on her heels and strutted for the elevators. “Lemme tell you, Ames won’t like it if you’re late. You have no idea how many interviewees she had turned down because of their tardiness.”

Sounds like she is the CEO’s best friend, calling her like that, Camila thought to herself. She was immediately reminded of her days in UConn fangirling over the number of financial businesses she could get into, but in the end, she only had eyes for the one and only Ahmanet Financial. It was said that after the Battle of New York, the former CEO’s wife had taken her spot and inherited her wealth as well after her passing.

Camila’s heart throbbed against her chest even harder, with every step that took her closer to the CEO’s door. 

“Mrs Ashryver-Sayeed will see you now.”

-

Camila was more or less expecting the office to be bright with the sunlight streaming in. However, it was instead just the office’s lights above her head, with streaks of sunlight peeking through the folds of the blinds. It was illuminated in a way because she was standing right in front of her idol.

“Yo, Ames,” Liliane said casually to the CEO. “Next interviewee, all the best.”

From where Camila was standing, an arm drifted to the side, with a glass of amber liquid swirling in it. 

“Thank you, Lily,” the cool, soothing and ethereal voice sounded across the room, which made the young woman concurrently shiver with anticipation and sensitivity. “I appreciate it.”

“Nothing big, best friend,” Liliane, or Lily, gave her superior a mock salute before winking at Camila and mouthing ‘good luck’, closing the door behind her.

When the bi-racial mortal turned around, she met the calm, collective and yet piercing gaze of Amy Ashryver-Sayeed. Camila bit her lower lip to hold back the small squeak that was going to slip out of her mouth. 

Right there and then, when their eyes met, it was as if she was transported to the Bahamas, the gentle waves lapping at the shores and the sun’s reflection on the world’s clearest waters. There was no difference between dreams and reality because both her eyes and the seas had calming effects on Camila.

When she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, exhaling, she was back in Amy’s office again. The older woman still had her eyes on Camila, silent, but calculative. Every inch of her just radiated wisdom and elegance.

“Are you feeling better?” Amy asked.

“Y-Yes, Mrs Sayeed,” Camila said sheepishly.

Amy leaned against her chair and crossed her legs under her table. She began flipping through Camila's particulars, running her finger down the boxes of information filled until she stopped right at the very top, where her name would be.

The younger woman saw Amy evidently swallowing hard and her jaw tightened.

"W-Would you mind...running by me your name again?" The sentence was like spoken through gritted teeth. She had forced herself to sound not as harsh as it sounded, but Camila had already felt uneasiness brewing in the pit of her stomach.

Even she wavered slightly as Amy did. "M-My name is Camila Sayed."

When their eyes met again this time, Amy had actually taken notice of Camila for the first time. 

It all came rushing over her mind like a broken dam, she couldn't even gather and process what she saw within that time.

The air was charged with energy as the world around them shifted. There it was, Manhattan, exactly a century ago in its glory. A significantly taller woman that looked eerily similar to Camila was holding hands with whom she presumed to be as Amy, wine glasses in hand, gazing at the nightlife inside of the office.

The scene shifted again, as the bright, glaring signs of Tokyo now shone from behind the glass panels of the windows of the bedroom below a club. The same woman and Amy shared a passionate kiss, with a sombre environment, to find comfort and solace in each other.

The last scene, however, left an everlasting impact on Camila. Amy ran her calloused hands through the fluttering, pale grey ash left on the opera theatre's grand stage. The movement was frantic, one that showed disbelief and utter devastation as realisation dawned on her. Darkness swirled around Amy, the aura so overwhelming that Camila had to take a step back herself.

Amy’s painful and raging bellow pulled Camila back to reality. 

The CEO herself was panting slightly, cold sweat licking at her forehead and on her neck. Camila could not believe what she had just witnessed.

That woman who looked just like her, from a century ago...it couldn't be a coincidence, right?

Amy was shaking, not violently, but trembling. She clenched and unclenched her fists on the wooden table, shaking her head in denial. Then, Camila heard it.

“No, that can’t be her. She died, she died right in front of me. Why did it take so long for the heavens to send a reincarnation of her? Why now, when I’m not ready?”

She...died?

“S-Sorry,” Camila started to freak out. “I...I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Amy shook her head and let out a shaky breath. “I...I’ll have Liliane reschedule your interview for another day, I apologise.”

“No, it’s fine. Have a good day, Mrs Sayeed.”

-

When Camila finally reached her apartment, she dropped her bag beside her couch and immediately flopped onto the cushions, propping her head behind her arm.

She didn’t want to assume thing straight away, but she couldn’t get the thoughts out of her head ever since she stepped out of Amy’s office. Camila heard it, she wasn’t wrong. She had heard Amy’s voice inside her head, as if their minds were connected with a bond, like those that she had read about in fantasy books about mating bonds.

Camila had dreamt to have someone who was the Rowan to her Aelin from the ‘Throne of Glass’ series. But not in this way; she was brought up where humans lived happily together...the Battle of New York was just a myth. Her ancestors might’ve lived through and fought for their freedom and reclaimed this city, but it was just a myth.

She wanted to shake off the eerie fact that she heard her idol’s voice in her head, but it wasn’t those times where she had mental breakdowns and she imagined Amy comforting her and bringing her back up on her feet.

She remembered the recognition that flickered in Amy’s eyes when their eyes met. As if they had known each other forever.

Sadness that lingered behind the cerulean waves, wisdom exuding in waves off her body. She looked wise and mature for someone her age. Amy was only two years older than Camila, but the calluses and worn out fingers spoke much about her past and the work that she has done for the city. 

Was Amy Ashryver-Sayeed the woman she idolised ever since she entered college? Or was there more than what met her eyes?

-

tag list; @wildsayeed @sayeedbound @mrskamilxh @witchesplayatnight @kamilahsayeed-owns-me @voltos9 @justahumblepie @lightning-fury @iddevouryou @samgtt700 @h-doodles (let me know if you want to be in my tag list!)

[beyond-the-mirror]

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Well this chapter took longer than expected! But it’s finally done and I hope it’s up to your expectations.

Tagging @thedyingmoon​ and @minteyeddemon​ since they were very interested in the concept of this fic. Please enjoy!

Warning: Child abuse, please read with caution. If this theme makes you uncomfortable you can skip the first part in italics.

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

Chapter 3: Songs of Innocence and Experience

“Gather round everyone! Come to our Freak Show and see! Bear witness to the most shocking collection of human abominations on earth!”

A rather tall man shouted at the top of his lungs, inviting the crowd into a rather dull tent situated behind him.

Fortuna’s local carnival was definitely not the most impressive touristic attraction the city had to offer, located in a barren terrain at the outskirts of it. The rides barely received any maintenance, small piles of garbage accumulated in some corners, and the stench excrement coming from the pet zoo impregnated the air. As unappealing as the entire carnival looked, it still offered the commoners a chance at having fun for a very few coins.

The announcer, known by the many staff members as Mr. Buoncuore, kept beckoning at the passersby, some of them feeling curious about what lurked inside the mysterious tent that housed the Freak Show, and paying him for an entry ticket. After enough people had gathered around to form a small group, the man flashed his rotten teeth. 

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves to witness our fascinating collection of nature’s most bizarre wonders. Please come in, let our tour begin.”

The inside of the tent was poorly lit, only a few lights worked and they hardly illuminated anything. Mounted walls divided the ample room into narrow cubicles where the “freaks” were showcased, at least the stage lights in each cubicle did function properly.

Unlike the jovial environment outside, the interior of the installation was rather gloomy and almost depressive. As the group was guided through the pavilion, they were introduced to the freaks displayed, which included a bearded lady, a pair of conjoined twins, a man covered head to toe in dark thick hair, and many more. Some performed small circus acts to entertain the spectators, others simply sat in sorrowful silence as they were being watched. Poor unfortunate men and women whose only sin was being born with a malformation, condemning them to be mere exhibitions to the morbidly curious side of mankind.

At the farthest end of the pavilion, a single cubicle mounted over a short stage platform and hidden behind a red velvet curtain stood out from the rest. Many believed this one to be the final and most important specimen in the freak show, and couldn’t wait to find out just what was hidden behind the fancy curtain.

Finally reaching the end of the tour, Mr. Buoncuore gathered everyone at the front of the small stage. Many whispered voices expressed their intrigue at the mystery behind the curtain. And soon enough, Buoncuore made an announcement.

“And now, we shall reveal to to you our final and finest specimen of our valuable collection. Prepare yourselves to be amazed, for this is no ordinary freak after all, one so outrageous that mere words can’t describe its cursed existence.”

The crowd stared in complete suspense at the cubicle. After a brief pause, Buoncuore continued with his speech. “I present to you, an unfortunate soul forsaken by God, a soul marked by demons themselves since the day they were brought to this mortal world. I present to you… Il Figlio del Diavolo! The Devil’s Child!”

Immediately the curtain was pulled up, revealing its interior. The crowd gasped at the sight.

A little boy, only five years old, was chained to the floor at the center of the cubicle behind a set of bars. He seemed malnourished, his skin a sickly pale color, and his long black curls were dull and unkempt. The infant wasn’t wearing a shirt nor shoes, only an old, torn pair of pants that reached bellow his knees. Several bruises and cuts covered his fragile body, some were already healed, others were still fresh.

However, what caught everyone’s attention were the deep dark markings that covered the child’s entire torso and arms. Swirls of black ink coursed through the boy’s skin, reaching up to his neck and the tips of his fingers in intricate and surreal paths and patterns. The ink had such a saturated color, an unnatural aura in them, it was obvious they were no regular tattoos; in fact, many swore they could see the ink actually moving on its own.

The sight was so surreal, so unbelievable…

“I-I-It’s a demon! A demon!” One of the spectators yelled at the sight before him. Other voices soon accompanied the first comment. “A demon has claimed this boy!” “That child is not human!”

Uncertainty and confusion took over the small crowd at the sight before them. They pointed at the boy, looked at him in utter disgust, mocked him, whispered profanities and insults at his tiny figure.

And yet the child simply laid still where he was chained with a vacant stare, the spark in his green eyes long lost.

Empty eyes, devoid of any hope.

“Take this you monster!” a teen member of the group picked up a pebble from the dirty ground and threw it at the imprisoned child, hitting him on his head and making him flinch. And soon enough, the rest joined the teen, throwing pebbles at the poor creature, who simply retreated back as far as his shackles permitted and curled up on the ground. Although most of the pebbles couldn’t reach him thanks to both the distance he kept and the bars blocking him, a few still managed to hit their target, leaving another set of cuts and small wounds on his already scarred skin.

The crowd continued their assault relentlessly while Buoncuore simply observed the scene in amusement, his fingers tapping at the handle of the silver cane he always carried pridefully with him.

Tears started to run down the child’s soft face, whimpers shaking his minute body.

“I-I’m not… I-I-I’m not a monster… P-Please stop… I b-beg you…”

He prayed for salvation, for mercy. Every single day, he prayed and prayed…

… But nobody came to save him.

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

His eyes shot open, heavy pants leaving his lungs in a desperate attempt to recover oxygen, a thin layer of sweat covered his face and body making his skin glisten in the dim light of his chamber.

The man sat up on the mattress to try and compose himself, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He ran a hand through his ebony locks, a habit he regularly did when feeling anxious in general.

It was merely a nightmare. One he wished he could forget, but kept coming back to haunt no matter how much he tried.

After a few minutes passed and his body finally relaxed, giving him the chance to stand up from his bed and lightly stumble towards the bathroom. Finding purchase in the old porcelain sink, he opened the tap, letting out a sigh of relief when a stream of clean fresh water managed to come out of it. At least the well that provided for the house hasn’t dried up yet to his fortune.

The man proceeded to wash his face and hair, hoping that the cold water could give him at least a sense of tranquility from the turmoil his unsavory dream caused in him.

Closing the tap, the man looked up and stared at his own reflection in the mirror in front of him. The ethereal markings on his partially nude body greatly contrasted with the almost sickly pale skin, looking almost alive as if the were made of slithering wisps of smoke and ashes. Rising a hand towards his face, he once again slicked his hair back, examining the now uncovered part of his visage. New lines had begun to appear, where they would stop at his neck now they started to crawl up his jawline, through his cheekbones and up into his hairline. Some stopped right below his left eye, others seemed to have redirected towards the bridge of his nose.

This new changes were not unusual though. It had been a long time since the lines had last developed after all.

What would happen if they managed to cover his entire face? He didn’t know. All he knew was that the markings will not stop growing. All he knew was that, although he was indeed intrigued by this phenomenon,

a voice deep inside his head assured him… he would not like the answer at all.

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

“We are starting with ‘Lo vidi e ’l primo palpito’. On your positions now!”

Tech rehearsals had begun for ‘Luisa Miller’, the next play to be performed at the Opera. As the current choreographer and dance captain, Trish strived to make rehearsals flow as smoothly as possible. Major setbacks were inconceivable for her, and with a personality as fierce as a lightning bolt, no one dared to challenge her authority nor her decisions.

All the backup dancers and extras took their respective places, their blocking already approved and stablished with no further changes. Meanwhile, Madame Carlotta beckoned her assistants to fetch her prop bouquet and apply some throat spray to her before starting a few vocal warm-ups. After readying herself, she signaled for the maestro to start the aria.

“Non temer: più nobil spirto, alma più calda di virtù non mai vestì spoglia mortal. M'amò! l'amai!”

As Carlotta paced around the stage, the backup dancers began their routine. You twirled around gracefully, perfectly following the path you were instructed to as the scene required. This was Luisa Miller’s, the main character, first aria. A serenade was brought to Luisa in celebration of her birthday, the townspeople gathering and dancing joyfully around her before settling down and letting her continue her song.

“Lo vidi, e 'l primo palpito il cor sentì d'amore; mi vide appena, e il core balzò del mio fedel.”

Once again, the dancers began moving, this time in line to present Luisa their gifts. Carlotta moved between the townspeople, bowing at each one and receiving her gifts. However, you noticed that her steps were longer than necessary, making her invade the blocked paths of some of the dancers. One misstep from her and she was suddenly right in front of you, completely oblivious to her current position. You tried to step out of her way but-

“Quaggiù si riconobbero nostr'alme in rincontrarsi formate per amarsi Iddio le avea in- AHHH!”

You moved a bit too late. Next thing you knew she had collided against you, which caused her to trip and fall backwards.

“Cut the music!” at Trish’s orders, the conductor and the orchestra immediately stopped. The actors and dancers looked distraught at what just happened, worry visible on their faces.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” You immediately reached out and offered a hand to Carlotta to help her get up, but a quick slap against your palm was the only answer you received.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t you know how to move across a stage you amateur?” Carlotta screeched angrily at you while her assistants rushed to her side to help her stand on her feet. Some of the actors as well as Nico ran to your side as soon as they noticed how hostile she was acting towards you.

“But I was just following the blocking! I swear I didn’t mean to-“ You tried your best to defend yourself, you were completely sure you had been in your assigned space and you had even noticed how some of your fellow dancers had trouble maneuvering around Carlotta.

“Oh shut up you-“

“Enough!” Trish interrupted Carlotta’s rant, the entire theatre going dead silent at the powerful tone of her voice. She calmly strode towards you both, a composed but stern look in her eyes. “What exactly happened?”

The moment you opened your mouth to explain, Carlotta interjected furiously. “This girl did this on purpose! She stepped out of her place and because of her mistake I tripped. It’s obvious she hasn’t learned the choreography properly, you must place her at the back of the stage right now!”

Before she could continue further with her rant, Trish silently raised her palm ordering her to keep quiet, then turned to you. “(Y/N)?”

Taking a deep breath, you calmly offered your side of the story “… I’m sorry Madame Trish, but I’m pretty sure I was following the steps correctly. I did my best to avoid running into Carlotta but I couldn’t do it on time.”

Trish acknowledged your words before stating. “It seems this was merely an accident and gladly nobody got hurt. Carlotta, please remember that your blocking hasn’t been stablished as of yet and that we could always modify it to grant you more movement and better avoid this kind of incidents. Alright everyone, on your positions once again!”

With a loud clap from Trish, everyone hurried to their respective places. However, before she could leave the stage, she faced Carlotta once more “As for your request, I’m afraid we can’t grant it. Not only is the blocking already approved, but these last seasons (Y/N) has proved to be an excellent dancer and actress, surpassing by far all our expectations. Now please return to your position.”

Carlotta was fuming, her poor assistants trying their best to calm her down.

At that moment, you began to fear that working with her wasn’t going to be easy at all.

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

Unbeknownst to everyone, the Phantom stood hidden at his usual spot in box number 4, his deep eyes watching over the rehearsals taking place at the stage bellow him. As the backup dancers started their routine however, his gaze was fixated on you right away. He observed carefully your graceful moves, your perfectly calculated steps around the stage.

You looked ethereal, beautiful, marvelous…

“AHHH!”

His eyes widened at the incident that just happened before him. The newest soprano had collided against you, her prancing around the stage careless and imprudent. You offered the woman a hand, only for her to swat it away rudely.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t you know how to move across a stage you amateur?”

Taken aback by the rather explosive words, he was suddenly filled with rage and anger. And the more he watched the scene bellow unravel, the more furious he would become.

He witnessed you trying to help her, trying to defend yourself from her cruel and harsh words. How dare this woman do this to you? You who were a marvelous dancer, you who worked hard to get to where you were now. Hellfire couldn’t compare to the wrath that was coursing through his veins.

“Enough!” The choreographer, Madame Trish as he recalled, stepped on stage. She calmly listened to you both, and rightfully acknowledged that what happened was only an accident and that it definitely wasn’t your fault.

Carlotta was left fuming, even though she requested for you to be moved to the back of the stage, she was denied much to his amusement. He lamented that such an awful woman had to be hired as the lead singer, especially since the former one was wonderfully skilled and kindhearted.

Letting out a sigh, the Phantom continued supervising the rehearsal in secret, wondering if this Carlotta woman would pose a threat to the success of the opera house due to her harsh personality.

One thing was certain though. If she dared to hurt you in any way, he would have to teach her a lesson.

This opera house was his sanctuary, you were his angel of music. And let God and Lord Sparda know, he was willing to defend both from any harm at all cost.

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

“I… I wish to show you something (Y/N)…”

“Huh? What do you want to show me V?”

The boy retreated back briefly through the trapdoor next to him before reappearing with a few objects in his arms. One was a leather-bound book and the other was a long silver cane.

He stood before you awkwardly for a moment, a blush adorning his soft cheeks, before sitting on a wooden crate nearby and patting the spot next to him, silently inviting to take a seat.

Once you settled by his side, he handed you his book. “It’s a book of poetry, an anthology of William Blake’s works. My… my mother gifted it to me. She used it to teach me how to read.”

Your tiny fingers gently traced the details on the cover. Golden lines and ornaments decorated the leather in gorgeous patterns, forming a “V” at its center. Opening it, pages covered in exquisitely handwritten letters and breathtaking illustrations were revealed to your eyes. You could see why V loved this book so much, both the poems and the drawings were absolutely delightful, not to mention that you now understood why V would talk in such a polite and proper way.

“V… this is so beautiful!” you smiled at him and he returned the gesture with a timid one too. Carefully placing the book next to you, you turned to eye the cane still in V’s arms. “May I see that one too?”

The smile vanished from his face. He hesitated a bit, but eventually handed it to you. It was splendidly crafted, its form elegant and the handle had many pretty and mesmerizing details. However, unlike the time he lended you his beloved book, he remained silent.

“Would you tell me more about this cane?” V’s eyes widened, his adorable smile long gone now and his eyes now expressing worry. “I… I don’t know why I have it…” he quietly replied. “The only thing I know is that it’s important for me… but I’m not sure why…”

He looked away from you, and for a moment you thought you saw a small tear forming at the corner of his eye. Quickly placing the cane on the box, you pulled V into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry V… I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for making you feel sad.”

At first he tensed when he felt your arms wrap around his form, but soon melted into your warm embrace and returned the hug. When you finally pulled away, you returned him his book. “Let’s change the subject. How about you read to me?”

Taking the book, his eyes immediately lit up. “Um… I still have some trouble pronouncing certain words, will it be a problem?”

“Not at all! And don’t worry, if you have trouble with a word I can help with it if you like.”

Once again, his lovely blush decorated his cheekbones. You read together, taking turns with each poem. When you both reached one titled ‘The Divine Image’, V asked you for a little help since it contained two words that still gave him a little trouble.

You patiently recited the poem first and then let him repeat it again until he could get it right.

“And all must love the human form, In h-het… heathen, Turk, or Jew…”

Although he was very eloquent when speaking, V still struggled on how to correctly pronounce a couple written words. Still you would always encourage him to keep trying, that one day, he will have no problem reading at all.

“You’re doing great V. Almost there, you can do it.”

“Where Mercy, Love, & Pity d-d-dwell, There God is d-dwelling too.” He gave one last sigh after finishing the poem.

“See? I knew you could do it!”

And for the first time since you met him, V let himself laugh. It was such a lovely and heartwarming sound, one full of joy and innocence that you could never get tired of hearing.

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

In a dark, candlelit room, the Phantom sat in front of his desk. He was working on a particular opera of his own creation, a project he started many years ago and yet it seemed to be nowhere near completion.  Along the years the Phantom wrote many musical pieces, songs and poems, but this particular one was the most important of them all.

This one opera would be his Magnum Opus, his greatest masterpiece.

And once he finished it, he would finally consider his life accomplished and let the darkness take him away.

As his eyes skimmed through the page, he suddenly paused. His gaze turned to a leather-bound book on the desk next to his many drafts and notes. Picking up the book, he let himself rest for a while, opening it and reading its contents once again. The poetry and the illustrations in the book brought some memories back, ones he will always treasure with great joy and nostalgia.

His thoughts wandered back to you, his angel of music. “My angel… La mia angela… I promise to hold you and protect you always…

Just like you held me and protected me many years ago…”

[the-resurrection-3d]

So anyway I edited my fic masterlist to procrastinate. This is only the Eddsworld portion, divided up by ship. The very end has my multi-ship collections, so if you want ficlets of X ship, check those. Includes nsfw links. I’ll keep this post updated!

Gen 

melty future - it’s hard out here for a lost time traveler and a bunch of mutant freaks  | rated T | 1.5k | Tags - 3-sentence fic collection, found family 

tasteless - tom takes a demon to Denny’s | rated T |  2.3k | tags - fantasy / CB AU, underage drinking, brief eye horror, arson 

thank god I’m pretty (in bits and pieces) - when Matt is fourteen, his aunt tells him the world is going to end. | “finished”, 6k | Tags - misgendering, gender fantasy AU, minor character death 

we buffer, we suffer - edd and Tord try and write a reader-insert fanfic about their favorite OC, Clownius Thundercock | rated M | 1.2k | tags - cock slapping, tentacles, rescue, breast fucking, bukkake, characters writing fanfiction 

sunshine sparkle -  matt wonders what it would be like, living someplace other than a gremlins’ den | rated T | .6k | tags - background polyworld, matt gets irl cyberbullied 

went for the kiss and got the bite - tord and Matt spend the last hours of Christmas together, and maybe set a guy on fire in the process. | rated T | 1.2k |  tags - implied drug use, zombie AU

TomTord

bezoar -“Fine, whatever, but if he pukes on me I’m putting all your heads on pikes.” Instead of his giant robot, Tord gets the flu, and Tom tries to get even | rated T | 1.2k | Tags - sick fic, canon divergent, post The End, vomiting | FFN mirror | Wattpad mirror 

Dumb / I stole my dad’s fic and made it tomtord because I like giving him a stroke - fuck you, dad you suck  | rated M | .3k 

Only God Forgives - what a lovely, useful idiot | rated E | 1.2k | Tags – A/B/O, Cervix Penetration, Vaginal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

orange  | rated M | .5k | tags – gentle sex, fluff, cockwarming

 EddTord

and everything you say gives me a real bad feeling – five times Edd lost Tord and the one time he found him again. (tonight, I am pleased to announce a comedy in six parts) | wip, 7.5k | Tags – canon divergence, high school AU, zombeh AU, creatures and monsters AU, green leader AU, post-canon, alternate timelines, pining, one-sided relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending | FFN mirror 

crush - “i’m gonna get Matt to burn that,” Edd says...Tord runs his fingers gently over Garfield’s face, the white thought bubble asking, Why me?, before he simply says, “You wouldn’t. You think my pain is too funny.” | rated E | 1.7k | tags - omegaverse, cannibalism, vaginal sex, weird biology, metafic, mild gore 

peter pan syndrome- edd asks, what do you want to be when you grow up? it sounds better than so where the fuck have you been? and I dreamt an even uglier version of you made me eat lead. | rated T | 1.3k | tags - minimalism, drugs mention, sexual humor, morning after, reminiscing | FFN mirror, Wattpad mirror 

nobody - he didn’t buy that old cloning machine for nothing | rated E | 1.5k | tags - exhibitionism, referenced TomMatt, oral sex, fingering, over-stimulation 

show me your blood - "see, we have all worked very hard to put value down on paper, and I am not going to dishonor our efforts by never stealing from another man.I said yes to the world and I have never been told no since.” | rated T | 7.3k | tags - established relationship, time travel, green leader au, hurt no comfort 

The Pinnacle of Romance – “I just wanted to have a romantic evening” | rated M  | Tags – gun kink/play, power play, roughhousing, reunions, porn with feelings | FFN mirror  

werewolf heart - this is the part Green Leader finds easy | rated G | .6k | tags - implied brainwashing, noncon kissing 

MattTord 

interlude to a guiltless exile - matt looks into those haunting eyes – silver pools without white, only large cuts of black. Shark’s eyes. Looking for too long makes Matt feel like when he’s dreaming and the tide’s pulling the earth out from under his feet. “How long can you survive out of water?” | rated T | 1.5k | tags - mermaid AU, fluff and hurt/comfort

TomMatt

mortals sipping nectar at five cents a glass - tom needs help relaxing, and Matt is happy to indulge him... | rated M | 1.1k | tags - experimental style, implied alcoholism, massages, fluff, angst with a happy ending, non-graphic smut, background polyworld | Wattpad mirror 

EddTomTord

survivors - “the premise is that this doctor gets stranded on an island and eventually has to start cutting off his own legs and stuff for food” | rated T  | .5k | Tags – sexual humor, zombeh AU, references to drugs, references to cannibalism, pov second person

EddMattTomTord

always said I'd be famous (guess that I lied) - sssh, it's okay baby, he soothes, petting Tom's hair; I have a dick big enough for all of us. Matt snorts, hides his grin behind his hand. Tord inspects his nails. Before Tom can chip in (holding onto him tight enough so he can't move his arm back for a good gut punch), Edd snaps at Matt, Just read the damn story. | rated T | 1.1k | tags - pillow and blanket forts, reading aloud, mild sexual content, fluff without plot

birthday cake - "you ungrateful —" Matt goes in for the side of Edd's stomach, the kill zone. "It's my birthday and I'm not only giving you head but a piece of modern. art.—" a few quick cuts of his hand to frame his face "—to commemorate the occasion." | rated M | .9k | tags - oral sex, foursome - m/m/m/m, shyness, hand jobs 

[insert neutral milk hotel quote] - matt gets fucked ; a direct sequel to ‘stupid fucking bullshit’ | rated E | 2.8k | tags - gangbang, oral sex, metafiction, monster tom, bottom matt, dirty talk, subdrop, over-stimulation, trans male character 

Paultryck

but I am home - maybe in this story the wolf doesn’t have to die | rated M | wip, 2k | Tags - subdrop, aftercare, nightmares, hurt/comfort, implied pet play, self harm mention, rape mention, red riding hood AU, bookstore AU

damnatio memoriae - shakespeare was wrong; most of us are not players. |  rated T | 1.2k | tags - one-sided attraction, army life, public execution, first person pov 

daze - "and then they fucked." - William Shakespeare | rated E | .3k | tags - vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, porn without plot, triple drabble 

our love gorges - while Red Leader and his unlucky human friend negotiate over dinner, Paul and Patryck are left to their own devices | Paultryck, background PaulTordtryck | finished, 10.4k | Tags – fantasy AU, bdsm, scratching, comfort sex, dom/sub, aftercare, mild blood, burnplay, blow jobs, outdoor sex, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suicidal thoughts, body horror, control issues, praise kink, consensual but not safe or sane, dead dove: do not eat

soft boy hours - let’s be young for a while | rated M | 1.6k | Tags - massage, frottage, fluff and smut, foreplay, post-canon | FFN mirror 

 PaulTord

the ren and stimpy show - on today’s episode: Tord has very strange fantasies | rated T | 1k | Tags - domestic fluff, post-canon, sexual humor, minimalism | FFN mirror 

lain with holy wars - do you want kids? | rated T | .6k | tags - post-canon, implied child abuse / domestic violence, fluff, light angst 

Paul/Everyone

some fuckin stupid bullshit just read the tags and get off my balls - I reach into hat labeled “story ideas.” It says, “Everyone gangbangs Paul.” Again? Hat falls and spills. They all say, “Everyone gangbangs Paul.” | PaulEdd, Paultryck, PaulTord, TordPauPat, PaulTom, PaulMatt, MattTom | rated E | 2.5k | Tags - gangbang, ruined orgasm, anal sex, blow jobs, handjobs, creampie, bondage, dom/sub undertones

Tordtryck

A.T. Field - “show me where you wanna be touched.” It’s disgusting | Tordtryck, background Paultryck | rated E | 1.3k | Tags - vaginal fingering, angst, implied character death, implied traitor AU, unhealthy relationships, consensual but not safe or sane 

TordPauPat

a real crowd pleaser - there are a lot of advantages to fucking your boss. | rated E | 1.3k | Tags - threesome- M/M/M, blow jobs, dom/sub, bondage, orgasm denial 

presented without context - who’s going to tell their fuckbuddy they probably caused their parents’ divorce as they’re getting blown? Never mind, Tord would. | rated E | 1.5k | Tags - threesome, praise kink, spitroasting, dom/sub

violence – you’ve made this place unbecoming. Do I have to stay? | rated G | .6k | Tags – sharing a bed, cuddling and snuggling, hurt/comfort, minimalism fluff | FFN mirror 

Multi-Ship

clowns, all of you clowns - You fall asleep with his arm clutched to your chest. Various eddsworld ficlets/scraps from the last year | EddTord, TomTord, EddTom, Paultryck, TordPaultryck, Tordtryck | wip, 9.3k | Tags - high school AU, zombies AU, fantasy AU, hurt/comfort, humor, fluff. First chapter is the table of contents. | FFN mirror for chapter 18 [TomTord], FFN mirror for chapter 24 [EddTord], FFN mirror of chapter 20 [Gen, Rejects] 

warped tour - dreamwidth doesn’t have any Eddsworld presence so I’ve declared the 3-Sentence Fic-A-Thon free real estate. First prompt: Tordtryck, there was a hidden message in their miserable Christmas presents | Tordtryck, MattTom, Edd & Matt & Tom & Tord, Tomatoredd & Scribble Tom | finished, 1k | Tags - 3 Sentence Fiction, college AU, bookstore AU, sexual humor, angst and humor, post-apocalypse, zombies | FFN mirror of Rejects parts 

[wellhellotragic]

Devil’s in the Details 1/?

Summary: It’s a well known fact that angels and demons exist. No one is saying that they don’t. Hell, you’ve all met your guardian angels before. But some of the facts, well you humans seem to be a little murky on those. Take Emma for example. Blonde, witty, beautiful. She must be an angel right? Wrong. She’s as wicked as they come. And she’s about to have the time of her life tormenting a certain English bloke

A comedy of errors....

A/N: Okay, lemme start this off with a huge disclaimer. This fic is nothing like anything I’ve ever written before. It is offensive. Sooooo offensive and I know it. There are three lines near the end that I actually cringed at when I wrote them, and I strongly considered changing them but I couldn’t do it, because the story needed it. The thing is, this story is pretty much told from the perspective of a demon, so some of the religious facts are going to be a little off. Just think about how different the Wolf’s side of the story was from the 3 Little Pig’s recounting. So, with that said, know that I have the utmost respect for all religions, cultures, and beliefs, and this fic has nothing to do with my own view points. It’s just silly and weird and highly sarcastic. I hope you’re all willing to give it a shot and stick with me. If you can’t make fun of yourself, who can you?

AO3 Link

A Prologue:

Heaven and Hell. God’s words falling on deaf ears. The angels had revolted and when God found out, he cast them aside into the mouth of hell.  Demons and possessions and all that jazz. Blah. Blah. Blah.The rumors had been circulating for eons. The Hinduists, the Buddhists, the Jews, all wrong. Hell (pun intended of course) even the Greeks had it all mucked up, but at least they were cool about it. Here, take this goat. Oh, not enough, well have my virgin daughter instead. Man she missed those days.

The Catholic church certainly hadn’t done their kind any favors either. Her first exorcism had been something else. It’s not like she had taken over the guy’s body. That would have been ridiculous. Seriously, if she was going to inhabit the soul of a human, she would have picked someone with bigger balls. And preferably without the syphilis. She did have standards after all.

No, she hadn’t taken the man over. She’d just whispered sweet nothings into his ear until he’d gone a little mad. All in a day’s work for a demon. The twitching, well that was just the guy being super dramatic. But the priest hadn’t known any better, taught from a young age that holy water was a cure all. Ya, because God has nothing better to do than listen to an old guy in a cloak talk about how he needs his water blessed. Sorry father, but he’s a little busy today. Maybe he can see you next week?

The whole thing had been a mess. He’d thrown water in the guys face and some of it went in his eyes. They turned bright red, in turn freaking out the priest more until he was pushing a cross to the guys forehead and chanting, “the power of Christ compels you!”

Oh honey, no.

The poor guy died of a heart attack and the priest felt that it had been a job well done. Sure, he’d lost part of his flock, but that was the price of expelling a demon from the mortal world. His words, not Emma’s.

And don’t even get us started on the Christians.

But in retrospect, that’s what made humans so much fun. They weren’t that bright. Don’t get me wrong, they were capable, but also arrogant and gullible. Prime for the picking. Okay, so ya, the dinosaurs had been a hit with angels and demons alike too. They were basically huge puppy dogs who liked to fight a lot. And historians can say what they will, but it was a well known fact that brontosauruses liked chasing trees and stegosaurus loved having their bellies scratched. Of course, God hadn’t been such a fan of the way demons played with the dinosaurs though, so he took them away from them like a toddler getting placed in time out. His favorite toy left on a shelf too high to reach. Truth be told, she’d always felt that meteor had been a bit vindictive for a guy claiming to be so damn benevolent.

But dinosaurs couldn’t talk back the way humans did. They didn’t have that higher level of thinking that made them so irresistibly fun to mess with. Take Adam and Eve for example. This woman, made from the rib of her lover (how is that even a thing people believe) listens to a serpent and eats an apple. Simple enough right? Except that’s so far from what really happened. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t been there personally, but she had the real story on good authority. For starters, the was never an apple. Ya, for all of you arguing it’s called an Adam’s apple for a reason, well you can just go to hell. The truth was, it wasn’t even a tree. The forbidden fruit, well it came from a vine in the form of a grape. Or a bunch of grapes if you want to get technical. But that’s not really the point now, is it? So, there were these grapes, and God was like, don’t eat these or you’ll die. Poetry, right? Anyway, Adam and Eve were actually really good about not eating the grapes, despite the fact that they were completely blind and didn’t actually know what a grape was.

Take note! This is actually a pretty important part of the story.

The two of them spend their day’s frolicking around in the garden of Eden, dancing and eating tomatoes or something. The guy who told Emma the story wasn’t really all that into details. So for the sake of assumption, and to keep this story moving along, they ate tomatoes and kiwis, and whatever else God had randomly decided weren’t off limits. But here’s the deal. Grapes, they don’t stay on the vine forever. Sometimes they fall off and roll away, and turn into something better. With a little help of course, which is were the serpent comes in. Remember Emma’s friend?

It didn’t take much really. A few grapes rolled in the right place so that Adam and Eve stepped on them while dancing. A small glass for the serpent to collect the juices in. A quick sliver into a nearby lake. Come on people. You know how many grapes it would have taken to fill up an entire glass? Even in the modern era wine makers like to water that shit down for profit.

Oh, maybe that’s where the human’s came up with water into wine?

What was that? Oh, ya. The story!

So the serpent, now having a full glass of wine returned to Adam and Eve, making sure to place the glass of wine near a glass of water Eve had placed out already. When she drank, it was from the juices of the forbidden fruit, and then, well you know. Everything went batshit crazy.

Now I know what you’re thinking. This is Adam and Eve. There were no glasses. Seriously, people. This isn’t the part where you should start questioning things. God mad men and butterflies, coffee beans, yet you draw the line and highly crafted glassware in an non industrial age?

Fine then. Don’t believe the story. It’s not like the bug guy upstairs would ever lie. Nope. Never.

But it’s the truth, at least as Gabriel told it. Gabe had been her mentor way back when she was still shiny and new. Most people believe that demons are all fallen angels, but that’s just laziness on the part of human storytelling. The actually history of hell was a bit more complicated. Yes, the Devil and God used to be tight. And yes there was an uprising, but God never sent the Devil away. He left on his own. Something along the lines of peace out, I don’t need this stress. And, yes, a few angels followed him, but most of them were created with the snap of a finger. You see, lurking around the eternal fiery pits of hell with six of your brothers can get a little monotonous.

It’s not like it was hard. He’d watched God do it before. He had powers given unto him by a supreme being. Admittedly, his first tries hadn’t been his best work, but no one gets it right one the first try now do they? Why do you think God flooded the earth? Sometimes you just need a redo. The devil kept them around of course, but all they were really good for anymore was dressing up as cherubs and shooting married people with their love arrows. Ah, the birth of adultery. Take that Cupid.

Eventually the Devil got better though. His creations resembled that of men with physical bodies when needed. Emma had been a crowning achievement. A blonde vixen with doe eyes and and a killer smile. But it had been her hunger for chaos that really had the other demons take notice. Gabe took her under his wing early on, as I said before.

He taught her how to seduce men, to make them gloat, how to send them into a fit of rage. Your garden variety of cardinal sins of course. And for a few thousand years, that’s exactly what she did.

Hey, Adolf, I think you missed some over there.

Oh Jack, have you met my friend Marilyn?

Ted. Look at this one. She’s beautiful!

Awful. Horrible. Unforgivable. I know. I don’t need you to tell me. The thing you have to remember about Emma is that she was trained for this. She was created for this. It’s in her blood. She’s never known love or compassion. But this is what you need to understand going forward, because everything is about to change.

[dcfaniguess]

Reencounter

@six-glowing-flowers I hope you like it!

Ask me any request of DRRR!! and I’ll write it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was Izaya dead?

This was the question that many people asked to themselves for two years, but there was no proof of that being true.

People kept going, they didn’t care, they were happier without the bastard that caused them so many troubles.

Shizuo was relaxed for a while too, he was one of the few that believed he survived (he had been trying to kill him for years and he failed every time, he knows just how hard it is to get rid of that pest) so he thought that he was going to come back sooner or later, and the next time he came back to Ikebukuro he’d be ready to catch him and finish him off… or so he thought, but as time went by and Izaya didn’t return he grew impatient…

That’s the reason why his senpai, Tanaka Tom, decided to give him a vacation on Kyoto in order to help him relax.

How was he supposed to react when he saw that stupid black coat with brown fur? How was he supposed to react when he saw those reddish eyes?

What was he supposed to do when he saw the most annoying person ever… on a wheelchair…? Probably not the way he did.

He froze.

And he froze even more when he saw a couple of kids running to the raven-haired man, one of them jumping excitedly and obviously babbling about something, the girl in the other hand seemed more collected and calmed… and Izaya? He smiled as he listened to the kid and made a comment here and there.

The boy stood behind Izaya’s wheelchair, ready to push it and go, that action snapped Shizuo out of his thoughts and he ran to catch up to them.

“Flea!”

Izaya paled and turned his head on his direction.

“Izaya-san?” Asked the boy.

“Ah… wait a second, Haruto-kun, I think I know that person…”

“You’re shivering” The girl pointed out.

The kids stared at their mentor as if waiting for a reply or something, but Izaya did not speak, he stayed quiet as he stared at the fake blond getting closer and closer, he could feel the fear crawling on his back, but he couldn’t escape…

<What is he doing here? Has he come to finish the job? Am I going to die today? In front of these kids?>

The idea wasn’t pleasing, but he smirked anyways, the smirk didn’t reach his eyes as it used to in the past though, it almost seemed nervous.

The monster of Ikebukuro finally stopped in front of him.

“My, Shizu-chan, fancy meeting you h-here” Said the red-eyed man as he cursed himself, hoping Shizuo didn’t notice his shivers.

Shizuo did notice his shivers.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, Shizu-chan? I live here”

“Izaya-san” Called the girl as she and the boy stared at the adults with curiosity.

“Ah, how rude of me, Shizu-chan, these kids over here are Haruto-kun and Himari-chan, kids, this is Heiwajima Shizuo”

“Hi!” Smiled the hyperactive boy while the girl glared suspiciously.

“Do you want us to give you some space, Izaya-san?” The girl asked, though it seemed as if she didn’t like her own proposal.

“That would be delightful, dear”

The boy pouted as the girl dragged him away from the adults, leaving the ex-mortal enemies alone… and giving them enough privacy for Izaya to stop smiling and ask what he wanted from the beginning.

“Did you come to kill me?”

“While you’re on that fucking wheelchair? I’m not a coward like you!”

“… Somehow that makes it all worse”

“Tsk, whatever. Is that thing permanent or are you gonna walk again?”

“You asking so you can kill me if I get better?” Smirked the informant “Sorry to say, but I’m staying like this”

That… that was unexpected, or at least it was for Shizuo, did he hurt the damn flea this much? Will the pest never stand up again? Shouldn’t he be happy?

He should.

Then why does he feel so sick? He has no reason to feel guilty.

Orihara Izaya is a bastard that deserved all of this.

“If you’re not here to kill me, what are you doing here?”

“Paid vacation” He shrugged “Only a coincidence that I found ya”

“Yeah, sure, and that’s why you ran towards me yelling ‘Flea’ like in the good old days”

“Tsk, what did you expect?! You’ve been missing for two years, you fucking louse!”

“Careful, Shizu-chan” Glared the informant “Keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you were either worried or you cared about me”

… Care? Worry?

He wasn’t… was he?

Did he care?

He remembers feeling nervous, anxious as hell and stressed with every passing day without the raven-haired man running and jumping around Ikebukuro, but… he never stopped to think why, perhaps he did care? Or he was just worried that he might have killed someone?

“Listen, I have no time for this, if you’re not gonna kill me or punch me then I’m leaving, perhaps we’ll see each other again and you’ll know why you ran to me”

He raised his left hand and the kids came back, the boy smiled at the blond man before pushing the wheelchair.

“I don’t know you, but you shouldn’t come back” Said the girl as she looked at him with those cold orbs “Orihara Izaya is nothing but troubles”

Then she walked to catch up with her friend and her mentor.

Nothing but troubles? Pffft, Shizuo already knew that, he had had to put up with Izaya’s shit for years.

Yeah, he definitely doesn’t care about that louse…

Does he?

That night he couldn’t sleep at all, there were too many questions in his head.

He spent a couple of days of his vacation trying to think about what Izaya had told him, why did he run to him? He had no answer until a young girl that lived close to his hotel asked him for help to carry some heavy bags, then she offered him a cup of tea as thanks.

“May I ask what’s bothering you, sir? Not meaning to intrude, but you look troubled and since you helped me the least I could do is to listen”

“Ah, it’s okay, don’t worry”

“Well, if you change your mind, I’d be happy to help”

“… Actually… There’s this person… I haven’t seen him in years and now they’re back… I supposed to hate them, they’ve done horrible things! Ugh, just thinking about it pisses me off!... but… he seemed scared of me, and when I saw him I felt… relieved?”

The girl listened and nodded.

“That sounds troublesome… I still don’t see the problem though, is it because you don’t know if you hate him?”

“No! I hate him, I definitely hate that bastard!”

“But you were happy when you saw him”

“I’m so fucking confused with myself”

The girl smiled at him and offered more tea.

“You’re not from here, right? Then just think about this: How am I going to feel when I leave and never see him again?”

Shizuo thought about it as he stared at his tea… how was he going to feel? Uh… well, he’d be pissed off because the louse wouldn’t return to Ikebu- WHY WOULD HE FEEL PISSED OFF?!

Wait…

“Thanks”

Once he finished his tea he left to look for the information broker.

He looked everywhere, but he couldn’t find him, and his smell had changed too, he noticed the day he saw him, he didn’t reek like used to, the smell was so unfamiliar he had already forgotten…

He looked for Izaya the next day and the next and the next…

Nothing.

Had he left? It was possible, he didn’t seem interested in messing with Shizuo (Or being by his side for a second, he was definitely scared).

Just when he was about to give up and look in another city for him he saw that girl… she was buying something, but he didn’t care about that, he ran to her.

“Hey!”

The girl stared at him and sighed annoyed.

“You again…”

“I need you to tell me where-“

“Where is Izaya” She cut him short “Everyone ignores my warning, perhaps because he seems nice or because he needs that wheelchair, but he isn’t. However, I know that look in your eyes, you’re no different from those naïve clients of his, you still want to meet him”

Shizuo nodded in answer.

“Fine, but when he ruins your life don’t come crying to me”

The girl guided him to a nice (and expensive looking) flat, there she offered him tea and cookies, then asked him to wait until Izaya came back.

While Shizuo waiting he looked around the place, it was big just as big as the flat in Shinjuku, as clean as expected, there was a big shelf with all sort of books too, some of them seemed to be of the kids so Shizuo assumed they lived with Izaya.

Not so long later, the informant came back with the boy and a man that seemed to be a butler.

“And then I- Oh! Is Shizuo-san!” Said the boy, the man paled a little and then looked at Izaya.

“Sozoro-san, could you take Haruto-kun to the kitchen? I’ll take care of this”

The butler complied without a word.

“So? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t want to lose you again”

Izaya blinked in confusion at that.

“What are you saying?”

“I fucking thought about that, dammit! What you said! I know why I ran! You’re the only one that never got away! I always went serious on you, full strength, full killing intent and you were always back the next day! No one else would have come back, so why did you?!”

Now it was Izaya’s turn to think… why did he come back? He didn’t know, he never questioned himself because he figured it was all hate, but after that last fight it was clear to him that it was not, still he never stopped to think about why he came back after every chase.

He had a theory though.

“Adrenaline” He shrugged “The feeling of it is addictive, I felt it whenever you chased me, whenever you threw something at me, the need to run and dodge, it was addictive and I loved it”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

“However, that does not matter anymore, what matters is why on Earth would you want to stay with me? Even if you say it’s just because I didn’t fear you it sounds quite like a lie to me, and trust me, I’m very good at detecting lies”

“Who cares?! You don’t need to understand it, I need to do it! So just come back to Ikebukuro already!”

“Get the fuck out of Ikebukuro, come back to Ikebukuro, you’re a walking contradiction! Listen here, you protozoan! If I ever go back there it’ll be on my feet and not on a freaking wheelchair, so you can give up and leave!”

“On your feet… so you can get better”

“I never said I couldn’t”

“You said you’d stay like that!”

“I’m staying like this, but I can heal, I just don’t want to!”

… Well, he did say that if he ever went back to Ikebukuro it would be on his feet, sooo…

“Then I’m staying”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m staying and I’ll help you heal, then we’ll go back to ‘bukuro”

“You totally lost it”

“Perhaps, but I’m not changing my mind, Orihara Izaya” At the sound of his name coming out of the blond’s lips he looked up to see him and what he found was nothing but determination in those eyes “I’m staying and I’ll help you heal, you get it?”

Izaya wanted to complain, he wanted to tell the damn protozoan that he did not need his pity, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t because there was no pity in those eyes, only determination, care and perhaps something else that he could not recognize.

“… Do as you please, I have a guest room that you can use” He sighed.

He didn’t know why was he agreeing to this, it was a horrible decision, but a part of him begged him to accept the debt collector back in his life, not as an enemy, but… as an acquaintance? Perhaps even a friend…

  Epilogue.

“I’m not sure about this, Shizu-chan” Sighed the informant

“We’ve come all the way here already”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t feel right, let’s just go back, we can come back another day”

“Flea, it’s been a year”

A year… a year since Shizuo came back to Izaya’s life and at least six months since they started dating.

They currently were walking to Ikebukuro, Izaya had finally healed, but he didn’t seem as comfortable in this city that used to be theirs anymore, he felt awkward and out of place, he missed Kyoto and the kids already.

“What, scared, louse?”

Izaya glared at him in response.

“Never, protozoan”

The debt collector smiled and took the informant’s hand, Izaya wasn’t that fond on holding hands in public but he allowed it this time, it made him feel safe and it was sort of reassuring…

Yes, just for this time, Orihara Izaya will allow Heiwajima Shizuo to hold hands with him in public… well, perhaps just this one and a couple more… what? He needs to get used to this place again, okay!

[gold-from-straw]

Reassembled - AT LAST!

Hey there! Remember when it was A Thing to write all the Avengers living happily together in Stark Tower? Well, I love to live in the past! In fact, anything beyond Avengers is completely ignored in this fic that’s been neglected for 9 whole months, and has finally resolved itself in my mind! I’m hoping to finish the final chapters in the next couple of weeks - and from then on, no more uploading fics unless I’ve got at least a first draft! I hope you’ll enjoy - a lot of people probably haven’t come across it before, so here’s the link to the first part, and I hope it allows you to pretend (as I regularly do) that Ultron, Civil War, and Infinity War never happen ;) For those who do know this fic, here’s the chapter below, or on AO3!

Natasha poured her second cup of coffee and added a shot of hazelnut to it before leaning back against the counter, wrapping her fingers around the porcelain. It had been a quiet week. They’d even managed to catch up on their paperwork, and Steve was talking about taking some time to travel around the country on his vintage bike.

The door hushed open and Tony walked in wearing plaid pyjama bottoms and an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Natasha smirked at his bed head. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hey,” he yawned, and poked the coffee machine.

Natasha watched him smile at the black liquid, then smile at the sugar bowl, and at the pot of blueberry yoghurt he pulled out of the fridge. “Ha!” she said, and poked gleefully at the hickey on his collarbone. “You guys had sex.”

Tony blushed. Tony freaking Stark’s Italian complexion went tomato red to the roots of his hair and Natasha almost squealed, it was the cutest damn thing. “What?” he stuttered. “Shut up.”

“You’re blushing though!”

“I am not.”

“Oh my god, Tony, you absolutely are.” She nudged him. “I’m happy for you, that’s all. So you got your shit together and talked, huh?”

He snorted. “Oh, we already did that ages ago. But... we’ve been taking it slow, you know. It’s not like... there’s no rush. I would have been fine with...” He trailed off, and she hadn’t thought it was possible for him to get redder but he did, ducking his head to drink his coffee.

“You’re so gone for him, aren’t you?”

He bit his lip. Natasha couldn’t bear it, she pulled him into a tight, one-armed hug. “That’s so fucking adorable, Tony.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“I’m not kidding. You guys deserve to be happy.” She let him go and sipped her coffee again. “So... do you love him?”

His breath rushed out of him, and she could read the truth from the little smile he was trying to hide under his beard. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Uh...”

“You do,” she said, her voice much softer. “You’re allowed to, you know.”

He looked up at her, all that vulnerability he usually hid under sarcasm and a smart mouth suddenly bare for her, and she felt a weight of responsibility settle warm in her chest. It was her job to winkle this sort of stuff out of the most powerful men in the world, and Tony had been no exception. For him now to offer it up to her... she knew what a huge gesture of trust this was. She squeezed his arm. “I’m so happy for you. Have you told him?”

The red flared across his cheekbones again and he nodded down into his coffee. “A few days ago. She... she said it back too.” His shoulders were rounded, and when he looked up at her she saw the fear that mixed with the happiness. She wasn’t sure what it was, exactly.  Fear he didn’t deserve it, fear he wasn’t good enough, fear that it would end. When Tony let himself love someone, it was a forever thing. She could tell he still adored Pepper, and he’d worshiped Rhodes consistently since his teenage years. Natasha got the impression that Loki was exactly the same.

The door slipped open again, and Loki himself joined them. Natasha watched Tony’s expression soften just to look at his boyfriend, how he leaned slightly towards him like a plant when he brushed his fingers up Tony’s arm and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, Natasha.”

She didn’t have a chance to reply. The sky suddenly darkened, and the tower trembled under the force of something, a great rumbling sound vibrating through their feet. “Woah, what the hell’s going on, JARV?” Tony yelled.

“We seem to have an anomalous atmospheric disturbance directly above the tower, sir,” JARVIS replied, voice raised but unflappable. “The data I’m collecting doesn’t match... ah, excuse me, no. There have been incidences before, in New Mexico.”

“The Bifrost.” Loki’s voice was soft, almost trembling. Natasha’s gaze snapped to him, narrowed. He would usually have shifted into his armour at the first sign of trouble, but now he stood, his eyes unfocused, still in his soft sleep clothes. As she watched, he took a deep breath and looked up at her, hiding his haunted expression under a cold mask, and shifted into an elaborate green and black armour, one she hadn’t seen before.

Feet thundered up the stairs, and Thor and Steve burst into the room, closely followed by the others. “Loki!” Thor shouted. His eyes were terrified, and he stopped short to see his brother dressed like that. “No, Loki, you cannot - we must flee. Steve has offered to stall them, we must go, now.”

“I will not—“

“No, Lokes, if they’re coming for you, go. We’ll be able to stop them here long enough for you guys to get to safety.”

“I will not leave you,” he said, turning a furious gaze on Tony. “I will never leave you, Tony, you cannot believe I would.”

“I need you to!” Tony said, gripping him above the elbows. “I need you to be safe, you hear?”

“And do I not need the same thing? I will not have you fight without me there to protect you.”

“Shit, let’s all run,” Clint said, running his hands through his hair. “I mean, if Norse Gods are planning on running, I’m up for the good old strategic retreat.”

“No,” said Loki, straightening his back and looking around at all of them. “To run is to be pursued, and that brings even more danger to your door. It would also leave your world less protected, and none of us will allow that. No.” He looked to Thor. “Brother, we stand.”

Thor clasped Loki’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, squeezing his eyes shut. “Aye, Brother. Then we stand together. To the roof.”

***

The team marched to the roof as the storm reached its peak, striking the tower and testing its foundations. Tony grumbled into his faceplate as the suit formed around him.

When the doors opened onto the helipad, Natasha kept her face perfectly controlled, only allowing the micro expressions she wanted to project to cross her lips and the skin around her eyes. A great circle of runes was burned into the concrete, matching the ones she’d seen from the files on the New Mexico event. In the centre of the runes stood a group of guards - some of whom she also recognised from the files - and a silver-haired man with an eyepatch and a great golden spear.

“Thor,” he said, and his voice, while not raised, carried clearly across the helipad. The authority in it almost physically bent her knees. She softened them to absorb the pressure, and stopped beside Clint in an at-ease stance.

Steve walked forward to meet him. “King Odin, I presume?”

Odin glanced at him with the most genteel of sneers, and looked straight past him. “Thor, my son, what is the meaning of this? You had orders to return with your brother and the Tesseract to Asgard as soon as the skirmish had ended, and yet we find you dallying with the mortals?”

“Father, we could not use the tesseract,” said Thor, and Natasha could almost see the sweat dripping off his temples. He was the world’s worst liar, but right now it looked like he was the only one with any chance. “The mortals, and the organisation SHIELD have need of it.”

Odin scoffed. “A goat has no need of a grimoire. Your time here has clearly softened you. Perhaps banishment to Muspelheim would have been a better choice in the first place.”

“Your dad’s charming,” said Tony, loudly enough for the Asgardians to hear. “I’ll cancel the tea party, don’t suppose he’d want to be entertained by goats.”

Thor looked embarrassed, glancing around at the other Avengers. “Father, the mortals have come so far since we commonly travelled to Midgard. Will you not meet with their leaders?”

“I have no interest in discussions, Thor,” he snapped. “I have come to bring the war criminal Loki to justice now that the Bifrost has been returned to its full function. Or do you wish to see him pardoned of all his crimes just because he was your playmate as a child?”

Thor’s jaw dropped. “He was no mere playmate,” he said, incredulous. “He is my brother, and always has been.”

“He is the child of a monster!” Odin roared. “Had I not taken him, he would have died, frozen on a rock. And he chooses to repay me by embarrassing Asgard in every way?” He shook his head. “It is enough. Time to end this foolish charade. It was an experiment that has failed, and must be put to rest.”

Natasha spared a quick glance for Loki, whose fingers were trembling, almost imperceptibly. He still stood as a statue, staring at his father impassively. He’d be fine, she thought, glancing at the others. It was the others who might be a problem, leaping to his defence when he could easily compartmentalise if left alone.

“Hey, if you don’t want the experiment, we’ll keep him,” Tony said, mock casually. “One man’s trash is another’s treasure and all.” Natasha suppressed a twitch of a smile. At least Tony was dealing with it better than could be expected.

Odin actually turned to look at him. “You would like to ‘keep him’, mortal? Like a pet?” He snorted and glanced at Loki. “An intractable, oversensitive cat. Perhaps that would be appropriate, but he has crimes for which to answer.”

“What crimes he committed on Earth have been officially pardoned, your highness,” said Phil, consulting his StarkPad. Natasha knew he would have Fury on speakerphone, silent but preparing for everything in real time. “We appreciate you sending Thor to assist us, we couldn’t have broken the mind control without him, and we wouldn’t have been able to stop the invasion without Loki and Thor’s help.”

“And reparations have been made to Jotunheim - Loki has been pardoned by the new king himself,” Thor added quickly.

“Crimes against Midgard and Jotunheim are nothing but crimes against a herd of beasts. I refer to those committed when he occupied the throne of Asgard. Attempted fratricide, murder, destruction of the Bifrost and treason.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” yelled Darcy from the back of the group, and Natasha almost groaned. She had less subtlety than even Tony, and wasn’t surrounded by a gold titanium alloy when baiting space gods. “Isn’t Asgard, like, an absolute monarchy? And when Loki did all those things, he was the rightful king, wasn’t he - so everything he did was within the law? Not that that’s a great system, man, I mean talk about being open to abuse.”

Odin smiled at Loki, and that was more terrifying than all his sneering and insults. “Ah, but you knew differently, did you not, boy? A Frost Giant can never sit on the throne of Asgard.” Loki’s face paled, his fingers spasming into fists, and Natasha tensed her muscles, ready to leap into action. “You are not the son of Odin. Therefore your ascension to the throne was unlawful.”

“And what of matrilineal inheritance?”

The Avengers and Asgardians all turned as one to the new voice. Even the Asgardian guards startled to see the woman in a golden dress who’d materialised among them, brushing an elegant cowl back from her hair.  “Mother!” cried Thor. She smiled at him, but turned her sharp gaze to Odin.

“What are you doing here, Frigga?” he asked, and Natasha made a mental note of how he reined his authority in to speak to her. This woman had a lot of power.

“I have come to ensure my son receives justice,” she said, and walked straight to Loki, stopping and turning in front of him as if she was planning on shielding him with her own body.

“He is no more your son than mine,” Odin scoffed. “I took him from the battlefield and—“

“And I took him into my heart,” she said coldly. “As an adoptive parent is wont to do.”

“That means nothing to the ascension of the throne. Loki took Gungnir unlawfully and used the power to commit unforgivable crimes upon our family and reputation.”

"There was nothing unlawful about it, husband,” she said with a pleasant smile. “An adoption by blood and magic is as tight a bond as that of birth.”

Odin froze almost imperceptibly for a second. He narrowed his eyes at her. “The adoption was never formalised.”

“Perhaps not by you.”

There was silence, broken only by the distant sounds of New York, and the whistling of the wind around them. Natasha didn’t even dare to move to shift a strand of hair out of her face.

“What have you done, Frigga?”

“What needed to be done,” she said just as softly. “For many years I tried to deny the evidence of my own eyes, hoping that you would love Loki just as dearly as I did. But when it became clear that not only did you have no true feeling for him, but that you never intended on finalising his lineage, I knew I would have to do so myself. Loki was indeed third in line to the throne, but only on his mother’s side. All that he did as king of Asgard was lawful, for he was, at the time, the law.”

The silence fell once more, and Natasha shifted this time, concerned at the pure fury pouring off Odin in waves. Frigga held her hand out to Tony. “Anthony Stark, would you grant us the use of a room so that my husband and I may discuss the politics of this situation? Your hospitality has been much appreciated thus far, and the continuation will be considered a great favour to me.”

“Uh… sure… your majesty? If you’d all come this way?” Natasha had never heard Tony sound so flustered, but then, meeting the parents this way wasn’t exactly ideal. Frigga inclined her head to him and turned her back on Odin, walking into the tower with her head held high. Odin, with just a flicker of tension around his good eye and a slight tightening of his fist on the spear, followed.

“You,” he said to four of the guards. “Remain with the mortals, the prince, and the accused. The rest of you, with me.”

Natasha caught Steve’s eye, returning his slight eyebrow raise. This was going to be interesting.

[occasionalfics]

Always Late, part 2 (Thor x Reader)

part 1

Summary: You’ve got real feelings developing and it’s becoming a problem. It’s really hard to deal with the fact that you’re a mortal, especially when you haven’t figured out what your place on the Avengers is, exactly. Also, Thor brings in a new friend!

A/N: Um. Wow. I’m so flattered that you all like this so much! <3 Honestly I had no idea how this was gonna take so I’m just...really grateful you’re all so gracious and encouraging <3 

Tags: @seaofhathor @thewayilookatbacon @lei-reyes @jerdynn @ladydork (let me know if you want to be tagged too!)

Words: 3,762

~~~

Things continued like this for a while: You caught Thor flirting with you a few times, but then...he flirted with a lot of people. You told yourself not to be jealous. He didn’t belong to you. He was friendly, and he seemed to like building other people up as much as he liked tearing them down in a nasty game of Poker.

That’s thanks in large part to Sam, who usually cleaned everyone out whenever they played. You sat back and watched, knowing that, with nothing to lose, you’d rack up a decent debt. It just didn’t seem like an attractive pursuit, even if everyone was part of a team.

But you realized, somewhere in the middle of everything, that Thor had become your friend. A real friend, like Sam, not just another Avenger that nodded whenever you were in their vicinity but otherwise didn’t take time to get to know you. You could’ve taken your own time to do that, but having two friends was a good start.

You were swimming one day - not even practicing your manipulation, you were literally just swimming - when Tony, Rhodey, and Thor showed up.

“You normally wait until everyone else is out to take a dip?” Tony asked.

He’d been the one to find you, alone on the beach doing exactly what you were doing then. You shrugged. “Does that surprise you?”

He gave you a flat look, but not a disappointed one, then nodded. “Right,” he said. “Point Break here said you had something to show us?” He pointed to Thor.

“I do?” you asked, scrunching your face in confusion.

Rhodey stepped forward. He was another one you hardly knew, even after almost nine months with the team. It seemed like he cleaned up messes more often than he made them, but in any case, you knew he was more useful in the way of organizing strategies and rallying troops than most of the other Avengers.

And yet, he was standing at the end of the pool, looking at you as he said, “We’re working on something, and we’d like to have an idea of what we’re developing it for.”

You looked at all three men, one at a time. “That’s...oddly vague.”

Tony sighed. “Do your thing, Ariel.”

You rolled your eyes at the name. Of course he’d call you that. Of course. Point Break. Legolas. Now Ariel, just for you.

“Can I ask why you need me to?” you asked. “You saw it first hand. Actually, Rhodey’s the only one that hasn’t.”

“That’s why we’d like a demonstration,” Rhodey responded.

You didn’t know why you were giving them such a hard time. It wasn’t like you kept your ability a secret. You just...didn’t really talk about it unless someone asked. Tony had asked when he’d found you on the beach, and Thor’d asked the first time you’d met him personally. So you nodded, took a few steps back, and lifted your hands. You focused on lifting a ball, then watched as one rose. It shifted, lost some mass as it hung, and changed shape. You moved your fingers as if you were cutting into the water, though it was suspended a few feet away from you. As water fell back into the pool, the shape of the thing became clearer.

“Funny,” Tony said, somewhat unimpressed.

Two feet above the surface of the pool, a small mermaid perched and swam through the air. The only sound it made was that of water smacking against itself, but when you pushed your arms out, it swam over to the men at the end of the pool.

“Is it useful?” Rhodey asked as the mermaid swam around him.

You shrugged. “Probably not, but it’s cute.” You smirked at them, still using your hands to guide the mermaid. You pushed it toward Thor, let it hover over his shoulder, then plopped it down. It brought a small hand to its face and shrugged as if it were giggling, but it still made no sound.

“Thank you,” Rhodey said.

For a split second, which was enough, your focus broke. The mermaid broke apart, soaking Thor’s faded red t-shirt. You brought your hands to your mouth and giggled. “Sorry!” you called.

He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and laughed all the same. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you meant to do that,” he said before reaching for the hem of his shirt, lifting it quickly, and throwing it’s soaked cotton over one shoulder.

You tried - hard - not to stare, forcing a smirk before submerging yourself. It wasn’t fair. Thor was too nice, too funny, and at the moment, far too hot. Whenever you got into situations like this, you cursed Sam Wilson for having put the thought in your head in the first place.

Something big was coming. Tony and Rhodey were scrambling to get whatever it was they were working on for you done before this...big...ominous thing. You didn’t know what it was, just that everyone was freaking out over it.

Honestly, you were kind of tired of not knowing anything. You tried going to Sam for information, but he said he had his hands tied. All he could tell you was that, if the thing Tony and Rhodey were making wasn’t done in time, you’d be stuck in the compound until the threat was taken care of. You definitely didn’t like that answer.

Since you couldn’t get much from Sam, you went to Thor. Or rather, he came to you. In the pool. Again. It was quickly becoming your rendezvous spot, whether or not you meant for it to be.

“I hate feeling this useless,” you said, staring at the shimmering image of your legs under the water.

“You’re not,” he said, but all that did was earn him a glare.

“I’ve been sitting here for the better part of a year with nothing to do but...play with pool water. I’ve done nothing to earn my spot on the Avengers. I don’t really even belong here.” You kicked some water away, watched the droplets cause ripples a few feet across the pool.

“Don’t say that,” he said, putting his hand over yours.

You stopped - stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stopped everything. People only did that - put hands over other people’s hands - when they had genuine feelings for the other person. You were convinced of it. But you didn’t dare look at him. It was too much. He was too much. His thing with Jane the Scientist was too much. He’d never even mentioned her - Sam had told you her name - but still, you found it hard to think about.

“You still think you should be with the X-Men,” he said.

“Clearly I’m a mutant, not an Avenger.” You kept swinging your legs because it was the only movement you could manage. You shut your eyes, unsure of whether or not it was because you could feel tears coming on.

You heard Thor sigh. “Sometimes I don’t belong, either,” he said quietly.

You glared at him again. There was no way he could identify with how much of an outsider you felt like. Sure, he was from Space...Asgard. Whatever. But he was one of the Big Six, as far as you were concerned. He was an original Avenger, and the only one to take the time to get to know you. “Yeah, right,” you mumbled before pulling your legs out of the water. You bent them and removed your hand from beneath his to wrap both of your arms around your shins.

“Hey,” he said just as quietly. “Think about it. Everyone I’ve worked with has been self-made. Or...or they came from nothing and became something.”

“Poor little God,” you said. You hadn’t meant to sound so bitter, but you couldn’t take the words or tone back now that you’d spoken.

Thor seemed to ignore the acrid tone. “Steve sacrificed himself for his friends and his country. Tony’s maintained an empire and molded himself into a hero. Natasha and Clint worked their way up in the ranks of SHIELD when it existed. Bruce’s used his curse to do good. And who was I when I arrived on Earth the first time? An exiled, arrogant, petulant child. I had the universe at my fingertips simply by virtue of being a son of Odin, and it took losing it all for me to learn how to truly be worthy of it all.”

You took a second, then glanced at him through slitted eyes. “But you still fit in much faster than...than this,” you said. “It’s taken more than nine months for me to do absolutely nothing to learn my lesson or even earn my keep.”

“You’ve done more than you know,” he said, barely a whisper. He stared at you, and you stared back, unsure of what to say.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t deal with not knowing anything about this Jane the Scientist. You wanted desperately not to be jealous of her, but you also didn’t want to get between them. Somehow you’d convinced yourself that there was still a thing going on with her and Thor, even though he’d never mentioned her. You cleared your throat and said, “Tell me about the woman in New Mexico.”

His eyes widened, not out of fear, but surprise. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, and you let him.

“Jane…” he said just above a whisper. “You want to know about Jane Foster?”

You nodded.

“Very well,” he said. “Jane was...my friend, I suppose. A good friend. A great friend, actually. A lot like you.”

“Isn’t she an astrophysicist or something?” you asked.

He smiled and chuckled. His eyes showed how fond his memories of her were. You didn’t know how to react to that.

God damn it, Sam you thought. This was all his fault.

“She was. Is.”

“I’m not that smart.”

“Not many people are,” he said. “But she has an open and compassionate heart like you do. She cares deeply for the people she surrounds herself with, like you do.”

You wished he’d stop making the connections. Maybe he thought they were flattering, but they just made you feel like you were his second choice, like you were similar enough that he could settle for you if he couldn’t have her.

But he would never do that...would he? You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, digging your nails into your arms to keep a hold on your emotions. “She was more than your friend,” you said. When he rose an eyebrow in question at you, you shrugged and said, “Sam talks.”

He chuckled again. “Of course he does.” He took a second, then nodded. “She was more than my friend, yes. I cared very much for her. I still care, though…”

You waited, but he didn’t go on. He looked out across the pool, and your heart sank. He couldn’t admit that he was over her, so he couldn’t be completely over Jane Foster, genius astrophysicist. You were just some...water bender, for lack of a better term. You’d lived alone for too long, didn’t have a place among his team, and were fooling yourself to think that someone like Thor could ever like - or dare say, love - someone like you.

“I need a shower,” you said, standing quickly to avoid questions.

He watched you get up and leave, but didn’t make a move to stop you. You couldn’t stop a few hot tears from falling as you left the pool area, knowing you’d never compare to Genius Jane Foster. You told yourself it was the chlorine, even though hadn’t actually gotten in the pool that day.

The thing Tony and Rhodey were working on was some kind of...conductor. That’s what they kept calling it, but you weren’t sure what it conducted. All you knew was that they met you in the pool one night and handed you a pair of fingerless gloves, which you slipped on without much of an issue.

“What now?” you asked.

“Do your thing, Little Mermaid,” Tony said.

You weren’t sure this nickname was better than straight up calling you Ariel, but you didn’t say anything to it. You turned to the pool, lifted your hands, and focused on bringing a ball of water above the surface.

It happened quicker than you remembered ever having done before. The ball you pulled up was bigger than normal. It actually looked like the contents of the pool had dwindled. You watched the ball hover and rotate, then looked at Tony.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” you asked.

“See if you can start a cyclone,” Rhodey said.

You stared at him for a second, then turned back to the ball. You thought of tornadoes and cyclones, ones you’d seen during hurricane season, even though you lived in New York. You remembered a few off the Jersey shore, which you hadn’t been to since you were a child. You thought of its power, turning and twisting and moving air and water in one circular motion. The ball twisted, elongated, and spread into the very thing you pictured in your head, touching the surface of the water below it to suck more up. The cyclone grew and slowly started to move toward the end of the pool where the three of you stood.

Tony gave off a few impressed noises. Rhodey stayed silent. When the cyclone came close, you balled your hands into fists, and the cyclone exploded. The water fell back into the pool, and suddenly your hands were hot. Or rather, the gloves were hot.

“You ever done something like that before?” Tony asked, holding his hands out to you.

You removed the gloves and shook your head. “I’ve never made something that big.”

He smiled, but some part of it seemed disingenuine. “That’s because you never had me helping you before,” he said.

You hoped he hadn’t meant to sound as pretentious and self-righteous as he did. You rolled your eyes just as Rhodey said, “He means us.”

You nodded and looked back at Tony. “They heat up too quickly. I’ll never be able to use them in combat like that,” you said, pointing to the gloves that were now in his hands.

“So they do,” he mumbled, then turned to Rhodey. “We’ve got more work to do.”

They nodded at you, and Rhodey congratulated you, then they turned to leave. You stared at the pool for a moment, then called out for them to wait. When you pivoted, you saw that they’d listened.

“Will they be ready?” you asked. “For whatever it is that’s coming?”

Tony kept eye contact with you and shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe.”

“I want to do something,” you said. “I’ve been sitting around here for too long without something to do, Tony.”

He smiled another one of his Tony Stank smiles and nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “We all do.”

You didn’t know what he meant, exactly, but you tried not to think too much about it. “Just...if I can help, in any way, let me know. Please.”

Rhodey looked at Tony, who nodded again before turning around and leaving. Rhodey followed him out, and you watched them go.

The Big Bad was coming. That was what you were calling it. You still didn’t know what it was, or if you’d even get to go fight it with the team. Any team. You’d learn to pilot a damn ship at this point, just to get out of the compound.

But Sam, Tony, and even Rhodey insisted on keeping you safe. If your conducting gloves (or whatever they’d end up being called) couldn’t be finished before it came, you’d be stuck in the compound. You promised not to go sneaking off, to not get yourself in trouble or hurt.

Hey, you told yourself, at least they care.

But with everything you were feeling about Thor, you just wanted some release. Even if it meant going off to battle, focusing on fighting and defending, you wanted something to take your mind off of him. He was everywhere suddenly. So was what you imagined was the image of one Jane Foster. You hated that she followed him everywhere - you wanted to like her, or at the very least, tolerate the idea of her. If you could conjure a single positive thought about her, that meant that you could just be Thor’s friend and you’d be okay with it. You just had to convince yourself that she wasn’t your competition because she wasn’t even around.

But all the confusion around the compound made that hard. Half the time you told yourself you’d clung to him because he’d shown you so much more intimate kindness and understanding than anyone else in the last few years. Even more than Sam. But the other half of the time, you couldn’t deny that you’d developed feelings - real, heavy, incredible feelings - for the God of Thunder.

Everything got...weirder when his friend from Space showed up.

She had light tan skin, long, dark hair tied up tight, and she wore a full suit of white armor. She brandished a huge, intimidating sword, and wore painted white marks on her face and arms. Thor greeted her like a hero, though no one else seemed to know who she was.

“(Y/N)!” he called when she arrived.

You looked across the main lobby of the compound, sighed, and went to them. Your eyes widened at the look of the woman, but at least you weren’t immediately jealous of her.

“This is Brünnhilde,” Thor said, gesturing widely to the woman. “She’s a Valkyrie.”

“The last one,” she said with a smirk.

You weren’t sure what any of that meant, or how you were supposed to react. You forced a smile and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you,” you said.

She shook your hand, then took a step toward you, a mischievous smile on her face the whole time. “Odinson here’s told me all about you,” she said. “You’re the Water Wielder.”

“I, um,” you stumbled. You tried to take your hand back, but couldn’t. Brünnhilde held you still. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

“Val, I think you’re scaring my friend,” Thor said.

“Val?” you asked.

“I’m the last Valkyrie,” she said. “For the time being.” She gave you a once-over as if she was sizing you up. “My friends are allowed to call me Val.”

You hesitated, still unable to pull yourself from her. Some part of you didn’t want to, but you couldn’t say why. “Well,” you said. “It’s, um...nice to meet you?”

“You said that already,” she whispered, angling her face toward you. You could see the playful spark in her eyes that sent shivers down your spine and a blush up your neck.

“Val,” Thor said. “Take it easy.”

She finally let go of you, but not without a click of her tongue and another once-over. “Why don’t you show me around, Odinson?” she asked, slowly looking from you to Thor.

Thor nodded. “Would you like to join us?” he asked you.

You glanced at him, then at Val, then back. Until your gloves were ready, you had nothing else to do. So you nodded, knowing you missed normal hanging out with Thor at least a little bit.

Thor lead the way for the most part. You knew the layout of the compound somewhat better, but that was due to the fact that you hardly ever left it. Still, you let him tell Val everything. You watched the way she walked, the way she interacted with Thor and the other Avengers. You knew she was one of them, even if she’d never been to Midgard before. She was a hero worthy of her suit of armor.

You tried not to feel self conscious about that. You reminded yourself that Sam believed in you, pulled for you. Steve Rogers believed you had potential, from what you heard. Tony and Rhodey were doing what they could to make sure you could do whatever you could against the Big Bad. And Thor, who’s opinion you held in the highest regard, had taken every opportunity to build you up. You reminded yourself that he could regard both you and Val in high esteem at the same time, for the same thing, even if you were differently situated.

Funny how you couldn’t say the same for you and Jane Foster.

When you came to the pool, Thor started telling Val all about you. He bragged that you could do certain things, things you’d never done at all, let alone in front of him before. Still, you let him talk. It made you warm, brought you back to the moment, and made Val’s sly smile easier to swallow.

You had a hard time distinguishing whether or not you wanted her esteem. She was beautiful, undoubtedly, but hard to read. And scary in an intimidating way. She was a God, but so was Thor.

“Show me,” she said when Thor had finished telling her about the mermaid incident. When you hesitated, she nodded toward the pool.

You took a step forward, focused with your arms stretched out, and conjured enough water to create a pegasus. For some reason, the mythical animal felt right with Val looking on. It must’ve been right, too, because she laughed and clapped as the pegasus flew around her. When it dunk itself back into the water, she put an arm across your shoulders and said, “That’s wonderful! With the right training, I think you could prove to be a formidable warrior. Maybe even a Valkyrie.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think so. I just...make shapes.”

“For now,” she said. “Odinson says the Iron Man is making something to enhance your ability.”

You looked at Thor before nodding. “Maybe. I don’t know what it’ll do, really.”

Val looked at Thor as well. “You were right,” she said with a chuckle. “She’s full of doubt.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I wasn’t right here,” you said, unaware of where this sudden burst had come from.

Val looked back at you, laughed again, then said, “Maybe not entirely full of doubt. There’s a fire in there, too.”

That didn’t make sense, given your power dealt with water, but you let her have it. You weren’t sure what else to do.

“Now,” she said. “Where can one get a nice pale ale around here?”

[sserpente]

In a heartbeat (Chapter 5)

A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! As usual, thank you all so much for your nice feedback! Enjoy reading! ♥

Find all chapters on my masterlist!

Loki was still reluctant of letting you join him to meet that tailor he had been speaking of but unless he could magically let water and food appear in front of you, he would be confronted with how stubborn you could be. You hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since the morning at Strange’s house, shortly before Hela had attacked yet again and unlike the two gods you were stranded with, you would be dehydrating a lot quicker.

“You know I can bring you some food here.” He said in an annoyed manner when you followed him outside, demanding once more to come with him. “You will only cause me more trouble than you are worth.”

Your lips parted. That stung, though you had phrased it yourself—you were not that important. Silently, you looked up at him, attempting to convince him with a single, desperate glance. It had worked before when he tried to snuff the very man who had saved you from Hela so perhaps, it would be working now too.

Loki sighed, closing his eyes for just a moment as if he was trying to keep up an act.

“You let me do the talking. Do not open that pretty little mouth of yours unless I give you a sign, is that understood? And don’t wander off.”

“Loki, you will not take her with you. It’s too dangerous.” Thor interrupted. He entered the broken plane with a grumpy expression on his face, his lips pursed.

“I have not made the decision.” The God of Mischief countered, suppressing a mocking smirk. He knew Thor couldn’t forbid you to explore the planet yourself. Strange had tried to keep you in his house and frankly, he had failed. Hopefully, this was a good idea, after all. You doubted Loki would go to your rescue if you screwed up.

“I will be fine, Thor. My mother always said it’s better to face your fears than to run away from them.” You doubted she had ever been on a different planet.

The God of Thunder gnashed his teeth, staring daggers at his brother. “I will be trying to reach out to Heimdall.” There was an audible judgement in his voice when he spoke, turning his back to you to face the broken window of the plane wreck.

“Good luck with that.” Loki responded sarcastically, heading towards the collection of vast buildings that stretched out about a mile away. They were strange constellations and unlike anything you had ever seen on Earth when you followed him across the disgusting mountains of debris and dirt. You realised only then that you were in fact, surrounded by what resembled a city. The colours of the rainbow blinded your eyes as you followed Loki through the streets, passing more and more scavengers that shot you greedy and incredulous looks.

This place was so… awfully strange. The colours, the people… it seemed like thousands of species and cultures clustered together on one planet where there was chaos, no order and no law. You didn’t exactly know who this Grandmaster Loki had mentioned was but you doubted he would be a very reasonable fellow.

Swallowing thickly, you resisted the urge to reach for Loki���s hand and kept as close to him as possible until you entered the Grandmaster’s house.

“And you are?” He was… orange. His skin was orange. Crudely, the guard crossed his arms before his chest, blocking the hallway.

“King Loki,” the God of Mischief stated smugly. “Of Asgard. The Grandmaster awaits me.”

“Well, get in then. He hates tardiness. Who is that?” Almost disgusted, the orange man pointed at you. He was the one talking. At least your skin didn’t glow in the dark.

“Is the Grandmaster awaiting her too?”

“Not exactly,” Loki began but the guard cut him off.

“Well, if she’s not, she’s to stay put. The Grandmaster doesn’t allow any stray dogs in his place.”

“Stray dogs? Are you kidding me? Listen well, you orange little fu—“

Scoffing, Loki suddenly grabbed your wrist so tightly you winced from his sheer strength, making you shut your mouth instantly. He laughed uncomfortably.

“I understand. I shall pick her up after.” Then, he turned to you, growling quietly so the orange man could not hear his words. “Have I not told you to shut your mouth? You stay exactly where you are and do not move until I come back to get you.”

“Excuse me?! I thought you gained the Grandmaster’s favour! I want to come with you, I’m starving and I’m thirsty!” You hissed. “Did you think I came here for amusement?! Because I can ensure you, I am not amused.”

“Stay where you are, little minx,” he threatened darkly. “I will come and get you as soon as I can. Now… can we leave?” He asked the orange man, louder this time.

Glaring angrily at the two of them, you watched him nod and lead Loki to a metal gull-wing door around the corner. They disappeared and you stood there, all alone on a foreign planet with about nothing to defend yourself, cursing yourself for trusting the God of Mischief. You should have known. You should have bloody known!

For about thirty minutes, you sat there on the floor with crossed legs, curled up in the hopes no one would pass by and rocking back and forth slowly. You were close to getting another panic attack and with every second that Loki was gone, you freaked out more.

“The last one only brought me five-thousand units. I’m telling ya, the Grandmaster’s getting picky with what we bring him.”

Footsteps. Voices. There was more than one person approaching you in the long and dimly lit hallway, making you jump up with shaking hands. Hide! Hide! All of your instincts screamed for you to find a cover but other than endless walls and that stupid gull-wing door, there was not much this damn house offered.

“Well look at that!” One of the man shouted, a shit-eating grin revealing a row of brown teeth. Breathing in and out slowly, you fought to hold back your gag reflex.

“Who are you?”

“I… uh… I am… I am…”

“A stray!” He concluded triumphantly, raising his fist high up in the air. “Such a pretty girl. You’ll make a good slave.”

Your blood ran ice cold. Slave. Slave?! Quickly, you pondered your options. Run? No, where to? They would find you sooner or later and even if they didn’t, you would get lost. Fight them? There were three of them. With two men, you might stand a chance, knowing how to place a blow to knock all air out of someone’s body but three? They would subdue you in mere seconds.

Thinking frantically, you took a step back when they started to stroll towards you, a disgusting hunger glistening in their eyes.

“I belong to Loki!” You screamed then, clenching your fists defiantly. Your eyes narrowed. “I belong to King Loki. You better keep your hands off me. He does not like it when people touch his property.”

Smart move, you complimented yourself, taking a deep breath. Crazy bitch!

“Loki?” One of the men repeated dumbfounded.

“He’s the Grandmaster’s guest.” Another explained. “King of a realm, this… Asmart, Astart, Asfart…”

“Asgard,” You corrected, lifting your chin.

“Yeah that. You know, we should take her with us. Just to be sure. I mean, she made it to the Grandmaster’s house without permission, he should know about this… lack of security, if you get my saying. He might even reward us if he’s in a good mood.”

The two other men chuckled—it sounded, to be fair, crazy. Not for a second did you doubt that they were.

“No! I am to wait here for the king! Stop it!”

You struggled fiercely when they wrapped their dirty hands around your upper arms, almost lifting you off the ground and leaving you kicking around helplessly. You even managed to hit one of the men in the shin but fairly, it did nothing. They aren’t human, of course. A mortal man would have screamed in pain, your blows were all but gentle, your self-defence teacher had made sure of that.

So your wild thrashing was all in vain when they dragged you through the gull-wing door Loki had stepped through only thirty minutes ago. A vast room presented itself to you, with a comfortable looking set of colourful leather couches right in the middle of it, surrounded by fluffy carpets. The walls were made of glass—giant windows that offered a marvellous view over… the litter. Beautiful.

Guards were standing mutely in the corners, staring sternly into thin air. You recognised the orange man from earlier and concluded that in the middle of the room—with an oddly interested sparkling in his eyes—sat the Grandmaster. A yellow cloak emphasised his height and grey hair, a straight stripe of blue colour decorating his chin. If this was considered beauty and make-up here on Sakaar, you suddenly started appreciating the compulsion to always look “on fleek” in New York. Mascara was way more bearable compared to this.

Loki was sitting right next to him. His clothing had changed, the green garments replaced by black leather, a yellow cape and blue accents on the fabric. Much to your surprise, the colours suited him well. Loki was a man who could practically wear anything and still look gorgeously handsome in it. His lips were parted slightly when he recognised you, unsure of whether he should let the Grandmaster see that he knew you.

“I’m sorry for disturbin’. We found this one in your hallway, Grandmaster.” The scavenger snarled. Blue eyes met your own. I told you so, you tried to tell him. You shouldn’t have left me all alone.

“When we tried to take her, she claimed to be King Loki’s slave already.” Instantly, his head shot up, alarmed.

“Oh my, you brought your own pet?” The Grandmaster exclaimed, grinning like a lunatic. “My friend, we will be getting along really well.”

“Yes…” Loki mumbled, looking you straight in the eye. You could tell he wanted to strangle you for this. “I believe so too. As I was saying, can I just say it is an honour to be considered a friend? I thought my kingdom was great but here on Sakaar, I cannot help but be astonished by what you have built yourself here.”

“Oh, don’t flatter me! Bring her closer, let her sit at Loki’s feet, I don’t mind. You’re in interesting man, Loki. Very interesting indeed,”

Without forewarning, you were yanked forward once more until you stood only mere inches from them, the two men pushing you on your knees roughly. God, this was humiliating but… better than being dead or sold as a slave, mind you.

Loki leaned down immediately.

“What were you thinking?!” He hissed, whispering.

“I panicked, I didn’t know what else to say!”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes before turning back to the Grandmaster. “I decided I would leave her outside, for I wasn’t exactly sure you would take kindly in the presence of a lower-ranked being.” He went on, smirking once more. If you brought your fist down to his foot, would it hurt him? Probably not. Quietly, you growled.

“So very considerate! For how long have you had her?” Apparently, slaves were a topic the Grandmaster was widely interested in and Loki, enjoying the power it gave him, was only all too happy to make up juicy details. With every word that left his thin lips, he started another lie, playing along with what you had started in the first place.

“Not too long, actually. She is very exciting company, however. Would you mind bringing her something to drink? Water, perhaps? It brings, unfortunately, one disadvantage to keep a mortal for your amusement.”

“Ah!” The Grandmaster snapped his fingers. Instantly, one of the guards rushed away to get you what Loki had asked for.

Oh dear God, thank you! Sighing, you moistened your lips with the tip of your tongue, imagining how the cool water would run down your throat and freshen up your senses.

“A mortal you say! They are so rare here on Sakaar. Mortals are so… so sensitive. Listen here, Loki, I host regular orgies in one of my most impressive space ships, the Commodore. Would you, perhaps, be interested in sharing her? I can guarantee you, you would enjoy it a lot, you’re in fact very welcome to join!”

Your eyes widened. With your heart in your mouth, you bit your tongue when you took the glass of water one of the guards handed you, forcing yourself not to lash out. Helplessly, you sought out Loki’s gaze. He returned it for only a brief second.

“I don’t usually share my property, if you don’t mind. Mortals are… easily broken.”

“No, no, of course not, I agree with you.” The Grandmaster nodded, pausing. “So, Loki, how long are you planning to stay?”

“I do intend to stay for a while—only of course, if I am welcome.”

The Grandmaster let out a short, hysteric laugh. “I don’t have royal company often, I like that! I will provide you with your own quarters, how about that?”

“There is no need for any additional effort…” Loki started, slowly luring him right to where he wanted him. You were impressed by the God of Mischief’s ability to play with words; a true Trickster—despite your embarrassing kneeling position right now.

“Oh no, no, no, please, I insist, I insist. Your pet, would you like to keep her in your room? I must confess, our cells are completely overcrowded at the moment.”

Loki’s eyes, once more, drifted over to your form next to his seat. Don’t you dare. “She will stay with me.”

“Excellent. There are no locks, shall I provide you with a collar for the nights?”

“Why not,” he mumbled through gritted teeth so quietly only you could hear it, once more expressing his dismay about your little white lie. “Thank you. But she is very well trained and obedient. I trust her not to run.”

The Grandmaster clapped his hands. “Tell me your secret! So, Loki, do you keep her as your servant only or do you use her for your pleasure as well?” Leaning forward, his eyes widened to hear his reply. You felt like throwing up.

“Occasionally,” Loki smirked mischievously. Fucking arsehole. You already dreaded the worst. “She might be quiet now but she certainly knows how to use that pretty little mouth of hers well.”

You almost spitted out the greedy gulp of water you were attempting to swallow.

“Oh yeah, perhaps she can teach one of mine, how does that sound? I am sure she would be thrilled to share her talents, isn’t that right?” The Grandmaster grinned, imagining the lie Loki had conjured out of thin air in his mind. At least you hoped it was a lie. Yet once again you bit your tongue and said nothing.

“She certainly won’t be going anywhere.” He replied, smiling sweetly. This time you actually kicked him, acting as innocent and inconspicuous as possible. Loki didn’t even flinch.

“No one leaves this place, eh?”

“Oh, about that, I was wondering whether there were, in fact, any convenient ways out of here. I have to admit, your hospitality flatters me and I would like to return the favour someday. Asgard has treasures of which most beings can only dream of—I would gladly present you some of those items as a gesture of my gratitude. Surely, they would enrich this planet’s wealth.”

Damn. He really did possess a silver tongue. Subtly, and without raising any suspicion, he would get the Grandmaster to tell him everything he wanted. Loki was charming—he could have all the women in the room, including you, and even the men, falling to his feet if he wanted to.

“That sounds wonderful! You see, the planet is surrounded by gateways. Yeah, the big one we call the Devil’s Anus. But before you leave, you have to watch my gladiators fight. The contest of champions is what I am most proud of here, you will love it!”

Loki nodded, pretending to show interest—or perhaps he really was. After all, he did intend to stay but then again, why had he asked the Grandmaster about the gateways? For Thor? For… you?

It was then the metal doors of the gull-wing door opened for a third time, now revealing a confident woman with a beautiful face, gorgeous lips, brown skin and dark hair. The armour she wore made her look powerful and intimidating. Jealousy washed over you as you checked her out from head to toe, deciding in the twinkling of an eye that you did not like her.

“Ah! Scrapper 142! Here, meet my guest. This is… uh, this is Loki. King Loki from… from Asgard.”

Scrapper. So this was what those filthy scavengers were called. Of course she had to be the one who shone out. Loki leaned forward, mustering her quietly and when their eyes met, you almost broke the glass of water in your hands. And what was up with those ridiculous white stripes on her face? If she liked dressing up as a zebra, she would be better off in a zoo.

God, how pathetic did you have to look with your dirty clothes, kneeling at Loki’s feet?

“Asgard?”

“Yeah, isn’t that where you’re from?”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “Is it?”

“It was a long time ago,” the girl replied unaffected. Who was she? Did she recognise him? No, she was merely shocked to have met another Asgardian and clearly, she was not pleased with that.

“Scrapper 142 is the best. She always brings me the best contenders.” The Grandmaster explained, eliciting a forced smile from the dark-skinned girl. She hadn’t paid any attention to you yet and quite frankly, you hoped it would remain that way. You’d had enough humiliation for today.

“Is that so?” Loki mused. He was still staring at her. What was so special about her, for Fuck’s sake and, much more importantly, why did you care if he liked what he saw?

“Oh yes. It seems like she knows exactly which lost soul that ends up here on my planet can fight. It made her rich. She brought me my beloved champion, you know.”

Great, so she was smart, skilled and successful. Gnashing your teeth, you took another sip of your water.

“So what do you need, Scrapper 142?”

“I wanted to speak with you but I see you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“No, no, no! It’s fine, we were done for today anyway. Loki, if you need anything else, let my employees know. They will show you to your room and later bring dinner for you and your little pet.”

Finally. You would so kick his arse now.

The Grandmaster stood, quickly followed by Loki who, tilting his head, indicated to you to do the same. You tried to kill him with a single glance when you did, fawning after him like an obedient puppy when one of the guards led him out of the room and through the hallway to what resembled empty quarters.

It was breath-taking. A giant king-size bed dominated the studio apartment, the large windows displaying the horizon. The furniture—new and modern—complimented the fluffy carpet on the floor and the attached bathroom had an actual whirlpool in addition to a shower, with more buttons and functions than any facility on Earth could ever offer.

As soon as the door fell shut behind you and the guard disappeared, you turned around, exploding.

“Was that really necessary? Making me your bloody whore?”

“Oh, I am sorry, should I not have said that? You brought this to yourself, little minx.” He gnarled. His voice was dripping with mockery.

“Would you stop calling me that?!” You snapped. “I am not little, this was your fault! You were the one who just left me there all alone, they were going to sell me as a slave, for Fuck’s sake, what was I supposed to say? I don’t have supernatural fighting skills like you do!”

“In any case I should have concealed you!” He yelled, shaking his head in the process. “If I had known you are too stupid to hide or at least come up with a proper excuse for your presence!”

“I am stupid?! I was freaking out, you selfish prick!”

Taking a deep breath, you massaged your temples until automatically, you reached for your hand to scratch the back of it frantically. Do not panic, not again, not again. Your fingernails bloody by the time you realised what you were doing, pulling away quickly.

Still, Loki noticed, frowning.

“Either way, there is no way out now,” he said then, surprisingly gentle. “We stay the night and I contact Thor tomorrow.”

Slouching your shoulders, you took a deep breath.

“You’re going to help him, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” Tilting his head, Loki sought out your gaze, stealing yet another heartbeat from you. What was it about him? You were so angry with him you wanted to slap him over and over until he begged you to stop, hurt him for being this selfish when in fact, you would act no different.

“What changed your mind?”

“A very interesting conversation,” he replied. Flattered, you bit your lower lip. Had what you had told him yesterday night in fact altered his point of view? Perhaps you hadn’t dreamed when hearing Loki promise to bring you back home safely after all. Was it okay to hope for that?

Letting out a shaky breath, you closed your eyes to calm down.

“Go to sleep, little minx.” He ordered tenderly.

You just didn’t understand him. One moment, he was so provocative and cruel you wanted to hate him and then in the next… he was charming and almost considerate. Was this what had brought him the nickname Trickster? Did he play everyone’s feelings like an instrument?

“Please don’t leave me alone here.”

Loki sighed. “I won’t. I will be here when you wake up. Now go to sleep.”

He had proven you he was not to trust. But did you do it, against all reason? Truth was, you didn’t know.

I belong to King Loki. Well, maybe you did after all. So you obliged.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Smithing While Smitten

Chapter one: An Unlikely Ally

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Valar!Reader

Word Count: 1,772

warnings: Violence, ass holery, dubious use of magic, uncomfortable situation (I guess), injury

A/N: new series, let me know that you think! Also this is your holiday present from me.

   You were a lesser known member of the valar, living in Middle Earth in the blue mountains.  You disguised yourself as a human, making yourself less ethereal looking, and more normal, it helped you hide from the other valars, who wanted you to come back to Valinor. Recently you had heard something you had not heard of since the first age, a dragon had attacked a kingdom to the east. Erebor, you had been there in the infancy of the kingdom, when it was still just a mining colony. You had hid here for a number of years before moving on and during that time the Dwarves of Erebor had endeared themselves to you. But you had heard word that they were planning to move back into Dwarrowdelf (moria), but from the way people grimaced when they said the name, something was wrong.

     It was years later before you had heard anything about the Dwarves of Erebor again, those in the villages of men were unhappy with that. They feared the dwarves would take up all of the food, and jobs, and make prices go up. Three months later they were in the blue mountains, they had settled not even half a mile away from the cave you lived in. Every day you would go and watch them build shacks and huddle in the cold winds at night. You watched as many Dwarves sought work elsewhere to feed their families, and as children waited for their fathers to come back. Once a week you’d leave nearly a dozen large game animals for them to eat, so that way no one starved and so everyone had nice fur coats to keep warm, and fought off marauders and orc packs so they were safe.  They had no idea you even existed, but that didn’t matter, it didn’t even matter that they never repaid you, you just wanted them safe. One day, whilst in nearest man village you spotted one of your favorite Dwarves, Thorin. The thing that drew you to him initially was his eyes, they were the vividest blue eyes you had ever seen. But what won you over was his work ethic, his kindness, intelligence, strength, loyalty, honor, and his steadfast personality.

     Thorin was working at the blacksmiths shop, he was hammering away on a pot with a bent bottom. You watched for a bit, long enough to see the human Blacksmith who owned the shop attempting to sneak up on Thorin with a hot poker. Without really thinking you hurried into the forge, you thought that your presence would be enough to dissuade the man from his misdeed, but no. You eventually just grabbed the poker with your bare hand and stared the man down, but being one of the Valar the fire did not burn you.

    When the man had fled, Thorin looked aghast at the red wrought iron spike in your grip. You turned to him and asked, “Are you alright?”

    "Your hand it’s burning, you must let it go!“ he exclaimed trying to get you to open your hand. When you did, your hand was unharmed, which seemed to surprise him greatly. He stared at it for a good minute before looking up at you and the words just fell from his mouth, “What are you?”

   For some reason you felt you could trust Thorin with your secret, so you smiled at him and whispered, “I’ll show to later, but for now I need to deal with the blacksmith,” leaving him in the shop by himself. You hypnotized a good deal of the town into believing that they saw what you had seen the black smith attempt to do to Thorin. Only you had them believe one of the townspeople stepped in and fended off the blacksmith, not you.The blacksmith was arrested, and his shop license was given to his second in command, who wasn’t a raging sadist. The only one you left with the actual account was Thorin, and when you were done it was time for Thorin to head home to his people. You waited for him outside of town for him on the path he takes to and fro. When he showed up you called for him, he spun around and barked, “What did you do? This whole damn town thinks that some cobbler’s apprentice stopped him when he didn’t!”

     “I did what I thought would enable you to keep your job here, and bring that awful man to justice.” You replied, “Did I do the wrong thing?”

    "it isn’t justice if you had to put a spell on the town to achieve it.“ Thorin grumbled.

    You said, "I only made them believe that they saw what I saw, and that someone else stopped him. The judgments and conclusions that they came to they made on their own.”

     “It’s fine, but I feel guilty getting paid extra for lying.” He huffed, “That kid couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone the blacksmith, how come you didn’t modify my memory of the event?”

    "Your mind is a little harder to change, and you’re not nearly as suggestible as they are, perk of being a dwarf, I guess.“ You chuckled,"That and for some inexplicable reason I trust you.”

    "You don’t even know me.“ he grunted as he attempted to walk faster.

    You kept up with him and said, "I know you’re from Erebor, you lost your home and a good deal of your family, you came here to the blue mountains with your people and you take work in the villages of men to support your growing family.”

   Thorin stopped and snarled, “So you pity me! Is that why you bother me so?” His upper lip curling back to bare his teeth in indignation.

    You looked back at him and grumbled, “You do not have my pity Thorin, I can’t really explain what my feelings towards you are, but I do know I wish to keep helping you and your people.”

    He snapped, “Keep helping! No such help has been given to me or my people!”

     “Who do you think brings you those game animals and leaving them for you? And why do you think your people have not been attacked by orc or raiders since you came here? Who do you thinks leads your children back to the village when they get lost?” You asked.

    Thorin looked at you with wide eyes, he breathed, “That is you, who keeps doing those things? why do you help us so much?”

    "because once, a long time ago, I lived in Erebor, and your people were so very kind to me even when they did not have much to give, I only wish for your people to be safe and to return that kindness.“ you explained. 

    Thorin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, he said, "How long ago did you live there, you couldn’t be older than I am.”

    "I am in fact older than you, when I lived in Erebor it was still just a mining colony back in the first age.“ You replied, "At this rate you’re not going to make it home until after supper, your sister is going to chew you out again if you miss dinner for a second time this week.”

    Thorin sheepishly mewed, “You know about that?”

    "Of course I know about that, you could hear her yelling from the other side of the mountain, she’s got quite a pair of lungs on her.“ You mused, as you two hiked up the mountain side.    After nearly an hour of walking Thorin stopped and said, "You never told me what you were, you said you’d tell me later, it’s later now.”

    You stopped and looked back at him for a second time that night, and sighed, “I suppose I did in fact promise to show you didn’t I? Alright, I will show you, but promise me you won’t freak out first.”

    After agreeing to not freak out, you let the transformation spell that kept you looking human fall, revealing your true form to him. Which was that of fire, lightening, and crystals, your being as a Valar. Thorin fell to his knees just looking at you, you were radiant in his eyes but yet he was terrified. You shifted your form to another, one that was more ethereal looking. You stood before him waiting hesitantly for a reaction, when he just sat there on the ground gawking at you, you said, “So…are you freaking out, or are you okay with this? What’s going on in that noggin of your’s?”

    It took him a second to collect his senses so he could speak, “What are you exactly, I know that you’re something ancient and powerful, but I cannot grasp it.” He was clearly attempting to be more formal, and to come off more dignified and kingly than in the past, he even stood up straight an held up his nose.

    You smiled at him being silly, and answered, “I’m one of the Valar, but one that you probably haven’t heard of before, in the grand scheme of things I’m not very important, I usually prefer to remain out of the limelight.”

   Thorin walked in silence beside you until you reached the edge of his village, where you stopped walking. Thorin looked at you and said, “What’s wrong?”

    "This is as far as I go Thorin, I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.“ You replied.

    He frowned, held out his hand and beckoned you, "Come have dinner with my family, please. I wish to introduce you.”

    "I don’t know Thorin,“ you mumbled, unsure of the best course of action. Thorin rolled his eyes, grabbed your hand, and dragged you to his house. You had to duck your head to get through the door, but you quickly started to pull your transformation spell back up so you looked normal. By the time Thorin was done taking off his coat he turned around and saw the ordinary young lady he met in the market place looking sheepish, and out of her element. It amused him to think a Valar would feel alien and uncertain in a house. When you noticed his look you chuckled, "it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a mortal made structure, at least 10,000 years or so.”

    "if not some castle where do you live?“ Thorin inquired , slightly concerned about your living arrangements.

    Before you could reply you suddenly both of you hear a voice call out, "Thorin is that you? Did you bring someone home, should I set out a bowl for them at the table?” and approaching foot steps. 

A/N: The gif is not mine

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[3d10fire-damage]

red sun summary (12/10/2020)

the party awoke in Asorsistan and met for breakfast. zoroe dispensed some information she received by Communing with her goddess. to her question of whether or not the gnomes harbored ill will toward the goblins, the answer given was “for those who wish to remain neutral, provocation is a useful tool.” her second question, is Rasantat a goddess with malicious intent, received a ‘no.’ Hvare also told her the harvest would not improve next year, which is... troubling.

afterward, the party set out for the Himyari fort once again, traveling for the better part of a day. on the way cybil spotted a bump in the sand, looking like it was built, rather than being an animal or something else natural. everyone went over to investigate, finding that it was a sand-covered wagon. it appeared to be an abandoned military caravan with standard supplies within, as well as a tiny box. it was intricately made and heavily locked, and calypso suggested they should open it somehow. khaela lifted Siege and said she could hit it open, and did so, the lock basically disintegrating. calypso applauded her, saying “that’s how you pick a lock.” this box was a pay chest, containing nearly 2000 gold pieces within... though some of the gold had been destroyed by Siege’s impact. collectively, the group decided to give all of the money to cybil, since they didn’t have nearly as much money as the rest of the party. “i don’t know what to do with this.” “you put it in ya pocket and buy shit.” it was suggested they could purchase rounds at a tavern for everyone, as calypso had in Asorsistan, or they could maybe even buy a whole tavern. really, it was for the good of cybil, which would contribute to the good of the group. cybil admitted this was very generous of the group and accepted the gold.

upon reaching the fort in the evening, the group was led to the northern road that would lead to the excavation site. during travel and making camp for the night, the party’s guide said very little to them, keeping things very sparse and professional. the next day, the group reached the site, witnessing the gates being opened by the cyclops operating a pulley system. the party entered, seeing a large number of gnome warriors and a cleric, who appeared wary of the party. the cyclops then returned to its post, lying down for a nap. there was also the grick and a gnome petting the creature calmly. at the center of the site was a woman dressed in well-used armor, who frowned and asked the party if they were the outside help. she introduced herself as Sukaina, the surveyor of this excavation, and said she would be in charge and what she says goes. the party agreed (or saluted) to this. Sukaina asked if they were all good to go, to which calypso said she was born ready to go into a worm hole. Sukaina said that she and the other gnomes hadn’t encountered any worms yet, but they were prepared to deal with one if they needed to.

the party was led down a sturdy ramp into the hole in the ground, and a crane with a platform also lowered down the grick and its handler as well. phosphorra, glancing around at all the gnomes, whispered that they were all so small. calypso whispered back that phosphorra herself was pretty small, prompting the sorcerer to say “i knowww.” calypso stuck her tongue out at her, and cybil whispered that they were also capable of being quite small, if required. soon they were all underground, the sun just visible through the hole in the ceiling. here there were several gnome miners and armored guards around, as well as a spellcaster. Sukaina introduced these people as the crew, and said that she trusted all of them, but not the party. “i’ll tell you right now, i don’t like bringing you all along, but orders are orders.” phosphorra was optimistic, saying she thought this expedition would go well.

after a couple hours’ worth of walking, everyone set up camp within what calypso could recognize as a large, circular worm tunnel. phosphorra approached Sukaina, telling her that the party wanted to do well, and asked where they should stay within the camp and if they should take any watches. Sukaina pointed out the gnome in charge of taking watches, and instructed the group to stay at the right side of the circular camp. phosphorra responded with more optimism, and Sukaina said that the Himyari would be getting out of this alive, but she didn’t know about the party. calypso winked at her across the room at this. settling down for the day, zoroe started working on her weaving of a scarf. phosphorra approached zoroe, saying she didn’t think Sukaina liked them very much. zoroe, struggling to mend a weaving mistake, said that was a fair assumption, since she had made her feelings pretty clear when the party arrived. meanwhile, cybil curiously inspected the walls of the tunnel, deciding that this was an old tunnel, and that purple worms don’t normally go back through the same tunnels they’ve created.

the next day, the expedition continued, not meeting any resistance or incident. the following day, phosphorra attempted to feel out where Rasantat might be located down here, but she wasn’t picking up on any strong indications. during travel, one of the gnomes approached the tiefling, saying she was glad to see her here, and asking why she was down here. phosphorra said she was missing her people, and the gnome wasn’t allowed to tell her what the Himyari were down here for, but the two were having a nice conversation, in spite of the more negative vibes between the two groups. this gnome introduced herself as Hayasira, the grick’s handler, and introduced the grick, Riaeya, as well. the grick freaked phosphorra out, but she was trying to remain calm. cybil approached Riaeya and reached out to pet the creature, but drew back after seeing its mildly negative reaction.

zoroe slithered up to calypso, asking if she had been in a worm tunnel before. calypso had in fact been in a few, though it was to hide out from the other monks when she was in trouble, or just to mess around. zoroe joked if she should be taking notes about this, and soon the conversation turned back to how calypso and khaela had run off from the party’s campsite a while back. zoroe got up the next morning and panicked about the two of them being gone, then found them in a compromising position together. there was some debate over just how far the two had run off, and calypso called over to khaela to weigh in, which the paladin kinda just nope’d out of. calypso assured zoroe they wouldn’t have just left for good: “we were gonna come back! d’ya really think we’d be gone, just like that?” “it’s happened before!” at this heavy turn, things grew rather quiet, until calypso said that she definitely felt worse about that now, then patted zoroe’s head and apologized. (also at one point zoroe referred to khaela as calypso’s girlfriend, which calypso denied.)

the next day, phosphorra and Hayasira continued speaking with one another. khaela started walking nearby these two, still feeling a bit awkward from the Conversation from yesterday and keeping her distance from calypso and zoroe. soon the tunnel split off, with two more paths now available to traverse, branching off from the main worm tunnel. Sukaina announced that the easy part was over, and that she didn’t know where these tunnels lead or if they meet up anywhere. she said she would take the rookies (aka the party) down one path, and the cleric, Syrith, would take the phalanx down the other path. phosphorra raised her hand and asked if they should turn around if they get a certain distance down the path without meeting up with the other group. Sukaina said that the goal was for the groups to meet back up, or to travel the tunnel until they could no longer continue. when asked which path should be taken, khaela said “well, right is right,” and calypso nodded and said “that’s science.” again, phosphorra tried to sense the direction Rasantat was in, feeling that the goddess was generally north of the current location, so the party and Sukaina took the right path.

soon the group entered a small circular cave, where a little stream flowed into a wall. floating over the water was some sort of obelisk with dark tentacles and strange writing on it. there was some discussion on what to do about this object, phosphorra asking if it was time for fire, which calypso supported loudly. phosphorra approached the obelisk, and the object turned toward the group as she did. when asked if this was what the gnomes were looking for, Sukaina said that it was not. cybil pointed at the obelisk, saying they could confirm that it wasn’t naturally occurring. phosphorra attempted to decipher the text on the obelisk, only for the text to... read her instead? she shook off the strange feeling and averted her gaze to the ground. then everyone heard a voice in their heads: “not many realize what’s happening before it is too late.” phosphorra warned against looking too hard at the obelisk, figuring it would respond to scrutiny. cybil was rather alarmed by the telepathic voice and cast Erupting Earth on the ground underneath the obelisk. the object seemed to try and float out of the way, one of its corners getting chipped, and it said “ow.”

phosphorra whipped around to see who cast the spell, telling them not to do that. khaela stepped in front of cybil and took a protective stance in front of them. cybil, not trusting this obelisk’s  telepathy, told it to get out of their head. this demand was apparently heeded, as cybil ceased hearing the voice at this point. “i see mortals are no less barbaric since i was last on the surface.” phosphorra said that the party would like to know who or what they’ve come across so they could be assured they’re not in danger. the obelisk countered that it was the party who attacked it. “i wasn’t expecting them to do that, sorry.”

“you must attest before i tell you who i am.” the obelisk then asked a trivia question about the origin of bronze tools. phosphorra answered that bronze comes from tin, which is produced on the island of Aaliyah. calypso provided some sass about this clearly being very important to know. regardless, the obelisk floated forward and extended a slimy tentacle, which phosphorra took in a strange sort of handshake. the obelisk introduced themself as Sqeddix, and phosphorra proposed friendship with this being. she was happy that the group was allowed to pass through this area peacefully, and calypso continued her sass on the way out, griping about speaking in riddles for no reason and asking irrelevant textbook questions. phosphorra was a bit sad that calypso didn’t care about book smarts.

the group found their way into more tunnels, which at this point grew narrow enough that people couldn’t proceed side-by-side easily. after about an hour, they reached a hollow populated by a single skeleton with fighters’ armor. there was the question of going back to ask Sqeddix about this person’s identity, though they were rather far away now. calypso tried to telepathically reach out to them, thinking very hard, but she was unsuccessful. instead, zoroe cast Speak With Dead to help determine if the group was in danger here. “how did you meet your end here?” “bleeding, can’t stop bleeding.” “why were you bleeding?” “creature came from the wall.” “what did the creature look like?” “dark, scary, movement.” “why were you down here?” “fame, fortune.” “why was there fame and fortune down here?” “first to get it, gets the prize.”

with that, the spell ended, and phosphorra glanced to Sukaina. the gnome appeared bored and zoroe asked if any of what the deceased person had said sounded familiar. Sukaina asked, “did you not notice the gems in the worm tunnel?” there was some banter about how gems don’t necessarily lead to fame and fortune, at least not in any unusual way. plus gems can be made by the worms in the desert, so while they are special and worth seeking out, they aren’t particularly notable or say, magical, and thus not requiring all of Himyar’s secrecy around this expedition. Sukaina didn’t seem to have all these answers, and calypso, ever the little shit, asked how she didn’t know anything if she was the leader. the surveyor shrugged uncaringly and continued walking alone as the group proceeded.

eventually the tunnel widened a bit, leading to a warren of several tiny tunnels that were too small for anyone to enter. calypso, not being the most informed of such things, decided that bugs made these tunnels. khaela wondered aloud if this were true, and calypso insisted it was. “damn, keep up, fangs.” “...you suck.” the two of them started walking alongside zoroe, who was getting a little nervous about this place. soon the party heard another voice from somewhere, a playful, light, giggling voice... but it was in a language only phosphorra could understand-- Draconic. she stopped in her tracks, asking if everyone else heard that, and calypso said it was just gibberish. phosphorra said that whoever was speaking was happy that there were passersby, and zoroe asked for clarification, thinking this voice didn’t sound benevolent. phosphorra took khaela’s place at the front of the group, and the voice spoke again, something about talking to itself.

phosphorra called out, asking if somewhere was there, and received no answer. “we don’t want any trouble, and maybe this is good that we’re here, like a change of pace. you’ll have someone to talk to?” the voice replied to her, saying that it was not at all lonely, and something about the group being “little morsels.” zoroe, with a nervous laugh, suggested that the voice said that because phosphorra was so sweet. at the mention of food, cybil summoned a Goodberry and rolled it along the ground-- an offering of sorts. khaela muttered about wanting a Goodberry too. calypso was confused about this, and khaela was like “you know i also eat regular food, right tinderbox? i prefer blood but i can eat regular food.” “...huh.” phosphorra nervously decided they’d just have to take this as it goes and suggested they keep moving, ducking further back so calypso and khaela were in the lead again. due to poor acoustics, it was hard to tell what direction the voice was coming from. the group didn’t know how the tunnels connected to each other, if at all, nor where they would lead, so they settled on the eastern path.

as the group proceeded, calypso attempted (unsuccessfully) to listen for any movement that might indicate where the owner of that voice was. soon the group found themselves at what appeared to be a dead end. suddenly, there was a burst of lightning, striking zoroe, calypso, and cybil. thanks to dope monk shit Evasion, calypso avoided a lot of damage, but the others weren’t so lucky; zoroe was severely hurt and cybil was knocked unconscious. more laughter sounded from somewhere in the tunnels. zoroe used Cure Wounds to bring cybil back up while calypso spotted where the lightning had come from. she pointed out a ledge about ten feet up in the northern wall concealing another tunnel. with a cough zoroe asked if they should go through that tunnel, and phosphorra said it would be good not to face that lightning attack multiple times, so yes, they should. calypso ran straight up the wall while the others climbed up. phosphorra complained that their antagonist was trying to outmaneuver them with these tunnels, to which calypso said “fat chance.” “they’re doing a good job so far...”

cybil took a moment to put up Spike Growth at the tunnel’s entrance to block it off, so hopefully the group would not be followed. calypso nudged khaela and suggested she heal zoroe. the naga insisted she was fine, but neither calypso nor khaela were buying that, so the paladin used Lay On Hands to heal her up. zoroe thanked her and ruffled her hair. with no further sign of their attacker, calypso scouted ahead a bit, seeing three more paths from their current tunnel. she pointed at all three (using her tail) and the others caught up with her. the group took the southern path, which was on the more elevated level of tunnels in this labyrinthine area. soon the voice spoke again, and the now highly alerted group turned around to see the source of it. it was a large blue creature with horns, a dozen legs, and a long, sinewy body.

the creature moved up and attempted to bite davke, and though it missed, it wrapped around Sukaina, restraining the gnome tightly. calypso only landed one of her multiple strikes on the creature, but managed to stun it, leaving it open to attack. Sukaina struggled within its grasp as cybil cast Earth Tremor, loosening the rock of the ceiling above the creature and knocking it prone. zoroe hit it with Sacred Flame and phosphorra cast Freedom of Movement on Sukaina to aid her escape. seeing the creature stunned and prone, khaela said it was a “poor little bitch” and laid Siege upon it, using Divine Smite as well. both she and calypso yelled at the creature a bit. the tiefling struck the beast twice, bloodying it, but failing at stunning it again. Sukaina broke free and ran toward the back of the group, pulling out her sword and shield.

cybil reared back, pointed at the beast, and said “be devoured by my swarm” and cast Insect Plague. the tunnel was immediately filled with countless insects ensnaring the creature. both davke and zoroe did more damage, and zoroe cast Shield of Faith on calypso. phosphorra distance cast Inflict Wounds on the creature and remained at the back of the fray. khaela swung twice and missed twice, sulking a bit. “how is this thing so big but so hard to hit?” the monster, sensing that it was perhaps outmatched, disengaged and started to flee. it was at this point calypso realized she hadn’t ever purchase a sling to use the magical bullets from the King’s hoard. cybil dropped the Insect Plague so that the frontliners could pursue, calypso using Step of the Wind to catch up to the beast and hit a couple more times. finally, cybil moved further up the tunnel and cast Blight, ending the creature by draining all of the moisture from its body.

as the dust settled, phosphorra suggested that someone walk behind Sukaina to keep an eye back there so she’d be safe. calypso was unimpressed, saying “she has eyes, doesn’t she?” “yes, but i’m trying to stay positive, and this is our job...” calypso muttered that it was Sukaina’s job too, but otherwise dropped the subject. cybil attempted to skin the creature, retrieving a rather dry sample of its blue skin. calypso asked them why they were doing this. cybil kept giving one-word responses, which prompted calypso to ask why they were doing that. “...i don’t like to talk much.” calypso simply chuckled and patted them on the shoulder on her way past them, and they shrunk away slightly at that. zoroe joked that calypso should be more like cybil in that regard, and calypso hit her with a “fuck you, square” on her way past her.

next time... continuing south... i think.

[runningonnothing-blog1]

What’s In Store?

<> Slight authors notes here: This is a story format I’m not used to but I’m willing to push the boundaries. This was super fun to write and it was a beauty to come up with a storyline. ENJOY!

<> Prompt: The world goes through 2000 year natural cycles of magic and non-magic. The non-magical cycle is about to end any day now. (from @writing-prompt-s)

<> Word count: 1932

17 year old Alexis sat in the corner of the business room, watching as the officials scrambled around like chickens. They were trying to figure out the plan for trying to live through what they call ‘The Turning’. Every two thousand ears, a terrible fate would be lowered on the humans of the earth. The globe would be washed somehow of every mortal, and replaced by another. Every Turning it was different. They say the last one consisted of everyone having the urge to do an insane thing. Over half the population was killed by cliff diving, and the other half all died in strange ways to add. Now the two thousand years of normal humans was about to end, and was going to be replaced by the ‘Magics’. It’s something they focus a lot on in school, and more recently than ever.

Alexis’ dad was one of the head officials of the department that deals with huge crises. Mr. Boe was his name, and he was well known throughout the country. He was always calm, cool, and collected. Everyone looked up to him, but unfortunately he took that to his advantage. Now, Mr. Boe looks like a fool yelling at everyone to calm down, yet he looked like his own eyes were popping out of their sockets. Alexis was dragged around to each of his stupid little meetings, and happens to now be the calm one out of the twenty five men in the room.

While lounging in the corner, she’s adjusted her position many times in the past hour. Alexis has learned to not care about what others thought of her clothing here, everyone knew her as ‘Mr. Boes daughter’, she never heard ‘Alexis’. Any other person in her position would have been in the sea of confused, panicking men… But she has internally accepted her fate as a whole. Humans of the past have never been able to survive this epidemic, and no one knows how we even have knowledge of this being true.

Standing, Alexis sauntered tiredly over to the large pane of glass, only to see the streets filled with people below her. She sighed, almost frustrated with their stupidity. Parents carried their children across the street, people paid hundreds more for groceries, and everyone was on edge constantly.

“ALEXIS! Get away from the glass!” Mr. Boe screamed, and the whole room came to a stop. The silence caused an icy tension to fill the room, everyone's heads slowly turned and their eyes burned into Alexis’ back. After rolling her eyes, she turned on her heels in annoyance. Each of the officials, held the most bewildered look on their faces.

“What? Is it going to break?” As if almost on cue, the glass did break. Out of surprise Alexis dove forward onto the brown leather sofa, backing away from the many dangerous shards. The ear shattering sound continued… and continued… and continued. Alexis sat upward, propping her one elbow to hold her back up, and used her other hand to check her plain blue tee for shards. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a loose bun so she didn’t need to worry about that. Once Alexis clicked back into reality, she looked around to see everyone still staring at the window, she joined them out of curiosity. It’s not like a large, bulletproof piece of glass would just… shatter? Right?

What they all thought wasn’t possible, happened. Once her eyes caught the other buildings, she noticed a somewhat repeating pattern. Every window that was designed to be bulletproof has shattered. Screams and crying sounded from below, police sirens rang. All twenty six people in the room stood in utter disbelief, the silence now filled with heavy thoughts.

“It’s begun.” Alexis breathed.

After only being a day since the first ‘wave’ hit, Alexis was extremely done with how everyone was acting. Her dad insisted to have her go back to work with him today, but she denied and promised to go get the groceries, and be back home… and stay home. Alexis new that wasn't going to happen, because even she was tired of being cooped up, even if it was for only twenty eight hours. She didn’t bother with the list, because her dad went totally crazy with items… They didn’t need 8 large flats of water bottles.

Pulling herself out of bed, Alexis pulled her long blonde hair out of her loose messy bun and threw it over her shoulders. After putting on black leggings and her favourite coral pink long sleeve shirt on, she looked closely at her face in her bathroom mirror. No need for makeup today… She thought to herself. Afterall, I might die today. Grabbing her purse, she slipped on her white converse shoes. Alexis gripped the golden door handle, as a small thought in the back bothered her in the back of her head. She ignored it, dismissed it along with all her worries. She had read somewhere that death comes easier if you aren’t afraid, hopefully it’s true, as she didn’t seem to care one bit. Alexis traveled down the busy Washington streets, not wanting to bother with her car, people would have yelled at her that it was too dangerous anyways.

Once she entered the supermarket, filled with people filling their carts to the brim, she sighed. All she needed was a jug of milk, eggs and maybe her favourite chocolate bar. Making her way to the isle that held eggs, she grabbed her needed item. Alexis noticed a single jar of pickles that was left, and as she reached for the jar, another pair of hands met her own.

An older woman with two young children who clung to her legs stared at her with pleading eyes, “please, my dear, let us have this jar.”

Alexis looked at this little woman in confusion, her eyes narrowed, “but I want this for my snack later.”

“So you don’t know that pickles are supposed to last the longest? How dare you waste something like this! Give it to me!” The mother yelled, tightening her grasp.

“Hmm, not like I wanted cheese and crackers anyways.” Alexis let go of the glass jar, and the mother clung it to her chest.

“Good choice.” she snarled, running off with her cart filled with other various items.

Alexis shrugs this behavior off and wanders to the baking isle. Maybe she could bake cookies instead, or some sort of bread. She’s noticed how desperate people of come, though the first wave just hit twenty eight hours ago. Once her eyes meet the sugar, next to it was the flour. Which was where a bunch of boys were tearing them open. There were about five or six of them, one of which was peering interestingly at the vanilla on the shelf next to him.

“Come on guys, you might get us arrested, get your heads straight.” He said, putting down his hood. It revealed messy long brown hair, and a fairly sharp jawline. When he turned to face Alexis, she noticed how he seemed to have a constant smirk. She went to reach for the last bag of flour, but one of the goofs on the floor grabbed it before her hands were even in a foots radius. He tore it open, and added to the growing pile on the floor.

“What’s next? The eggs?” Alexis scoffed, holding her own close to her. Maybe instead a tasty omelette will help satisfy her hunger.

“Maybe, if you’d hand them over.” A muscular one growled.

“What’s the point of fighting me? It’s not like we are actually going to live. Can’t I just have an omelette, since I can’t have cookies…  Or crackers with pickles and cheese?” At this point, Alexis was just hungry and wanted something to eat. She knew this trip was going to be relatively long, but she also didn’t think it would be this long.

“Oh, so you’re not crazy like the rest of these freaks?” The one was no longer interested in the vanilla ingredients, as he has turned to face Alexis.

“Uh- no. My father is trying to convince me that it’s bigger than we think, but it’s not going to help the fact we all are going to die anyways.” Alexis said, reaching up to grab the baking soda.

“I like your views… What’s your name?” The guy continued, but Alexis just shoved the baking soda in between her elbow and her side.

“Trying to get a girl for less than who knows how long? Not gonna happen, buddy.” She started towards the front, she heard a pair of footsteps follow her. Ignoring them, she waited at the back of the insane line, her hunger slowly increasing by the second.

“Seriously? Did daddy raise a good girl?” The same voice snickered behind her, “Just cut the line, they are too busy to notice anyways. Come on.” The boy grabbed her free elbow and pulled her away before someone gathered behind her. Once they reached the fresh sunlight, Alexis couldn’t help but feel off. Like something was about to happen, but she pushed it to the back of her head.This man was following her, or- with her.

“If you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.” She stated, striking the deal.

“What? My name? Oh its Sean. Now it’s time to fill your end.” His face still held that annoying smirk.

“Alexis, now would you leave me be?” Just as she started to walk, she turned on her toes. Screams and cries took control of her mind, ears, and that’s all she heard.

Rows of people one by one fell to the floor, twisting and contorting their bodies Alexis didn’t know were possible. They reached for sky with angry twitching fingers, as if something was choking them. Each scream seemed to leave her head ringing with confusion. She couldn’t move, nor could her new found friend.

“Alexis. Run.” She found herself stuck to the cement, her knees shaking.

This was the second wave. It was here, the end… the end is here. Sean grabbed her elbows, and she dropped all her items in the process. He dragged her for a few feet before Alexis gained her own balance. She followed the taller man in now desperation. The realization hit.

Death was inevitable. It was going to come either way. Every thought of ‘run’ or ‘I must live’ has left her mind. The Turning was destined to happen every two thousand years, it’s not like it was just going to stop now. She stopped dead in her tracks, spun around, and stared at the bodies dropping in front of her. Alexis wasn’t sure how to feel as the rows dropped closer and closer to her.

“Alexis are you insane?” Sean’s voice was heard from behind her, just as the bodies were a few feet in front of her, she turned to face him. Alexis didn’t want to fight the fate she was given, it would be harder to live.

“I heard death is easier if you aren’t scared. Bye Sean, now it’s your turn to run.” She raised her arm to wave at the boy, now pale. He looked dead himself, but he nodded.

“See you soon, Alex.”

Alexis heard a scream as if it was right in her ear. She let herself be taken under the invisible pressure, the loneliest colour took over her vision. Her mind was silent, but for one thought. The thought she pushed to the back of her head that morning.

I never said ‘I love you’ to dad.

[spiritvaleroleplay-blog]

Faceclaim: Katie McGrath Name: Vaermina Goldsmith  Age: Appears in her thirties, but is the very definition of ‘ancient’ Species: Dragon, masquerading as a Witch (Major: Fire, Minor: Spirit, Arcane Focus: None) Occupation: Magic Tutor and Old Court Champion How Long Have They Been in Spiritvale?: Too freaking long

Mina can seem somewhat aloof in her nature, giving off that air of calm and collected distance that could easily be mistaken for arrogance. She is undeniably vain, and even she’ll admit to it. There’s definitely a sultry element to her as well, Mina isn’t one to shy away when she likes someone and she’ll always let the other party know and even when rejected, she may still persist in the vain hope that she might just change their mind. She is a law unto herself and constantly seeks the more attractive option. She’s shallow and she likes it, and anyone who tries to change her ways may end up with a nasty burn.

In perspective, the true nature of her lies in the fact the only thing that she truly cares for is the mountain and those who live on it. Her allegiance is with The Old Court and the spirits who made their home here first, and who were born from the mountain’s magic. Her protection does extend across the town, but only to a certain degree. Petty mortal issues are not problems that she considers her own. Don’t call her if a wolf tears out a vampire’s throat, she could care less… But she’ll be right there if a group of witches try to spread dark magic in her territory.

Time is a fickle and funny thing, and Vaermina honestly doesn’t remember most of it for the time that she’s been alive. There are glimpses from time to time, that resurface themselves in the form of faraway dreams that felt just like that, dreams. But even with their distance, they were far too familiar, deep in her memories she knows them to be truth. One thing for certain however, was that she had been born amongst fire, blood and the screams of the innocent. The very things that had roused her from an impenetrable shell.

At that time, the great scaled winged beasts known as dragons were relatively common in the world; dominating the skies and terrorising towns – or sometimes not, instead taking more benevolent roles in society and acting as guides and counsellors rather than aggressive monsters wishing to cleanse the earth in dragon’s fire. Vaermina’s own mother fell into the former category, and her daughter fell much into the same even without her guidance.

Vaermina never actually knew her mother, because she had given up her egg to a tribe who had travelled far and wide in search of a protector. They had sailed a vast ocean, and had come to land in what would now be known as Anglesey, but Vaermina hadn’t known much of that small island either. She had been born across the Atlantic in the vast lands of America, and raised by the humans she had been entrusted to. Through that alone it forced her to test those innate magical talents, taking the form of a human child to run around with the others.

The tribe always made it clear to Vaermina that she had a great destiny ahead of her, and told her of the lands they were returning to. A great mountain that held great strength, felled by dark spirits that overwhelmed their stone guardian. They needed someone stronger, more tenacious than the old guardian to rid the mountain of evil, someone just like her.

As most dragons do, she matured slowly, but she also quickly outlived a generation or two of the tribe as she grew. But she was always surrounded by family, and her large winged shadow on the land was nothing but a joy for them to see. The journey to the mountain obviously did not take so long, but they were careful, they needed their new protector ready for the fight ahead of her.

And that time came, roughly at two hundred years old when she was only a juvenile dragon, but large and strong enough where neither she knew any differently and neither did the people. It was time, and if you ask Mina now what happened? Well… She can honestly tell you that she doesn’t remember much. And it really is the honest truth, she can call vague scenes of a barren and stripped bare mountain; so unlike the lush, well forested lands of today, and a dreadful sense of darkness looming.

It took a considerable time to clear out the dark energy, and Vaermina nearly lost her life in a battle with the very dark entity that had killed the last guardian. She was too young and too untested, but in that moment in the near sacrifice of her life, the magic within the mountain seemed to stir and push back against the dark, to then accept this brave new soul as if it were an extension of itself. The mountain appointed Vaermina with power she had never felt before; witches would call the power Spirit magic, and it healed her rapidly, giving her a second wind to destroy the beast in the heat of her fire. That’s one part she certainly can remember.

Vaermina’s intervention with the dark spirits and her newfound power seemed to be the kickstart that the mountain needed to start protecting itself again. Nymphs awoke from long slumbers, and nature spirits rose up in numbers that began to repel the invader. With a dragon at the head of their army, a war that had been waging for far too long was finally won.

The tribe could resettle at the foot of the mountain, and Vaermina found her permanent home within it. However, in this fight, she didn’t quite realise the extent of the responsibilities that she was entrusted with now. She had unwittingly become The Old Court’s new Champion, and it did not take long to discover these new tethers. The fact she found that if she left the mountain’s reaches that an excruciating pain would quickly push her back within the safe limits of the mountain. As generations came and went, she also noticed how after a while she simply… stopped aging. Although not really understanding much about her own self and species, the mountain put a stop on her growing any older. She had matured to full adulthood, and it had no intention in allowing her to grow old. So whilst her age is certainly in the thousands, her physical age is remarkably younger.

It wasn’t so bad, to start with. The lack of aging was a benefit, as was her new power; for when she became Champion, the magic from within the mountain became hers to use as she saw fit. It manifested in the form of Spirit magic, entirely on loan, but none the less hers for as long as she was Champion. However, she very quickly grew tired of only being allowed within a certain limit. She tested the boundaries as much as she could, desiring to fly farther than before, to explore and do as dragons do, but every time she always had to return to alleviate the pain. She had become a part of the mountain now, and she was never to leave.

Vaermina watched on as time rolled ahead. Dragons grew to becoming near extinct, the few remaining deciding to take refuge within the safe, welcoming clutches of the earth in the news that was carried to her. Eventually, she grew tired of the same scenes that played out before her; so she too decided to do as her kin had done. She clawed down the entrance to all of the caves that led to her warm abode within the mountain, and within it she slept without any true intention of waking.

The mountain shaking was when she was rudely awoken, into the wild rush of the 1800s when her tribe had long since died out and new men with pale faces came to break into her home in search of gold. As it turns out, those old rumours were true after all, of molten red and gold eyes glaring out from the dark, and fire that left nothing but withered cinders of the men who dug into the rock.

Vaermina took a human form to explore and find out what was going on, sneaking in the town that the locals were calling ‘Spiritvale’. They had even given her mountain a name, Mount Beacon, as they had all been called here by forces unknown. Vaermina learned how the inhabitants were not in fact human, though there were some amongst them. They were other creatures; werewolves, vampires, spirits and witches all coming together. Vaermina altered her name to sound more human, dropping to simply Mina, and took the guise of a witch of fire and spirit as she caught up on what had happened since she’d fallen asleep. It seems a whole lot had changed… And it was exciting.

She had woken angry, but quickly fell in love with the newly created town just as others did. The rush and energy the place had was unlike anything she had ever experienced, technology had new and strange, but she adapted and grew used to it. But one consistent thing carried across, that dragons were merely a myth and they had never even heard of The Old Court, and for her own safety she decided to remain in that guise… Especially as these people seemed to take as much pride in the mountain as she did, and protected it in their own way, making her role effectively redundant. 

As a witch without a Focus, others simply assumed she used her Spirit magic to remain youthful and live longer, but on occasion she would change her face. Eventually coming away from the dark skinned look of her natives, and going for what appeared to be whatever was attractive for the time. She had been all colours at some point, but at the moment she is the brunette that this generation have come to know so well. No doubt she’ll switch it up again in a few decades.

Mina has certainly grown comfortable in this new world and what it had brought, and her heart no longer seemed to feel so heavy. Still, she yearns to see the world outside, but her duty to the Court remains and so she is to stay. At the very least, these colourful characters and their stories keep her entertained; and continue to do so to this day.

[tube-thoughts-blog]

tube thoughts vol. 2

zero stars - terrible, 1/2 a star - dull, 1 star - folly, 1 1/2 stars - lacking,   2 stars - fair, 2 1/2 stars - decent, 3 stars - terrific

zack snyder's 300: Rise of an Empire *Lady warrior commandeers the battle scenes and saves it from being a male meat fest like the first film.* 3 stars

rifftrax presents "Independence Day" *One way to make this movie more moronic would be if social media existed in its world at the time.* 3 stars with riffing 2 without

Cannon films "Ninja 3: The Domination" *Spunky shinobi, you must avenge me!* 3 stars

Septic Man *Municipal shit-storm* either zero stars for grossness or 3 stars for grossness and surrealness

"The Stuff" a Larry Cohen film starring Michael Moriarty *Ba-da-ba-ba-ba, I'm lovin' it.* 3 stars

Farscape premier episode *Awol from the ratcage.* 3 stars

Garth Marenghi's: Darkplace "The Creeping Moss from the Shores of Shoggoth" *Brocolli from space. I'd thought it had tasted odd.* 3 stars

Albert Pyun's "Omega Doom" starring Rutger Hauer *It's nice to know after we've killed ourselves off, through constant warfare, sentient robots will become gun nuts and start acting out cold war westerns.* 2 1/2 stars

Kenny vs. Spenny: "Who Can Sell More Bibles?" *The Devil is in the details.* 3 stars

Masters of Horror: Clive Barker's "Valerie on the Stairs" *Another bodice-ripper.* 2 stars

"I Spit On Your Grave" uncut 1978 either zero stars or 3 stars

"Beyond the Door" *Paranormal pregnancy with personality.* 3 stars

Twin Peaks: "The Condemned Woman" *Josie and the pine weasels* 2 1/2 stars

Lost and Found Video Night: Vol 7 -- 3 stars

Seinfeld: "The Frogger" *George's high score.* 3 stars

Kolchak, The Night Stalker: "Mr. R.I.N.G." *What's the difference between right and wrong? robot need to know.* 3 stars

Everything is Terrible "The Rise and Fall of God" *Homeschool is the answer.* 3 stars

Roger Corman presents Andrew Stevens' "Subliminal Seduction" featuring Sharknado's Ian Ziering and Critters' Dee Wallace Stone *CD-ROM Inception meets Tommy Wiseau's "The Room"  type inept erotic thriller.* 3 stars

David Cronenberg's "eXistenZ" *Jennifer Jason Leigh penetrates Jude Law's port hole in order to play an addictive and twisted version of The Sims.* 3 stars

rifftrax presents "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" *Butter scraped over too much bread.* 3 plus stars with riffing 3 stars without

"Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone" *Han Solo babysits a brat-pack ginger cutie, Ernie Hudson is Lando, and Michael Ironside is a Darth Humongous who believes that Earth Girls Are Easy.* 3 stars

"Riddick" *Robinson Crusoe machismo* 3 stars

Farscape: "I, E.T." *My name is Mud.* 3 stars

Dominion: pilot episode *Bright light city gonna set my soul on fire.* 2 1/2 stars

"Thor: Dark World" *Science lady Padme pines for Adam of Eternia so that she inadvertently stumbles into the evil fudge and awakens the 9th Doctor Keebler Who causes the realms to converge like ornaments on an imploding Christmas tree.* 3 stars

"Priest" *Paul Bettany's Obi-Wan character is disenchanted with his forced retirement  in a Catholic 1984 dystopia and his regret filled dreams lead to the wasteland where his  fallen knights of the old republic partner, a cowboy from hell Karl Urban, lurks about with his horde of bloodsucking bandits and xenomorph vampires. A decent cameo from Brad  Dourif as a snake oil salesman. This movie's biggest flaw is that it forgets  the classic genre work of Sergio Leone,  John Carpenter, and George Miller and instead mimmicks the cliche Matrix ripoff style hack work of Paul W.S. Anderson's Resident Evil flicks.* 2 stars

"Scanners 2: The New Order" *If you get inside me, go gently, and easy on the nosebleeds. This kind of telepathic power in the hands of a fascist P.D., no thankee.* 3 stars

Joe Bob's Christmas Special: Charles Band's "Pets" *Inhabits the same universe as other weird,  dumb kids' adventure comedies like 'Garbage Pail Kids', 'The Super Mario Bros Movie', 'Ernest Scared Stupid', and 'Problem Child 1 & 2'* 1 1/2 stars

Sami Rami & The Coen Bros present "Crimewave" aka "The XYZ Murders" *Reminiscent of the Three Stooges, classic Mel Brooks, 40s cartoons, humorous Tom Waits song tales, and the original SNL.* 3 stars

Udo Kier in "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss OSbourne'  --sexploitation-- *Show me where it hurts. Fill me with  hatred. My pleasure is seeing your dead body.* 3 stars

Masters of Horror: "Right to Die" *The crispy, vengeful ghost of Terry Shiavo.* 3 stars

William Lustig's "Vigilante" starring Robert Forster & Fred Williamson *Regular Joe nihilism* 3 stars

rifftrax presents Ridley Scott's "Alien" *H.R. Giger porn on the sattelite of love.* 3 plus stars with riffing 3 without

Josh Brolin is DC's "Jonah Hex" *Sometimes spooky, often dumb B-western that's sadly too gutless to show any blood n grit. Still it might fit into a marathon of 'The Quick and the Dead', 'Five Bloody Graves',  'Navajo Joe', and 'Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter.'*  2 stars

"Rhinestone Cowgirls" 1982 --xxx-- *Easy listenin' and screwin', plus plenty of other prickly  situations protruding in Cactus Corner.*  2 stars

Kolchak, The Night Stalker: "Primal Scream" *Unfrozen caveman mauler.* 3 stars

"Shogun Assassin" *Daddy day samurai* 3 stars

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs: Dino De Laurentiis presents "Orca" *starring Richard Harris as a salty sea-dog, Charlotte Rampling as a sensitive marine biologist, Bo Derek as a sexy shipmate and Shamu snack, plus the indian fella from 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' lending his wisdom by saying things like,  "The old ways no longer work. Now, even our gods dance to a new tune."*  2 1/2 stars

"Baron Blood" *Decent dubbing, giallo lite, moody nightscapes, cursed castle, creepy stalking.*  2 1/2 stars

Garth Marenghi's Darkplace: "Illuminatum & Illuminata" *Interviewer: Do you believe in the Horned One?  the actor Todd Rivers: You mean the Hoofed One? Interviewer: Yeah.*  3 stars

Beavis & Butthead: "Time Machine" *Butthead: 1832, that's like not now.  Beavis: Yeah, aren't we more than that?* 2 1/2 stars

Twin Peaks: "Wounds and Scars" *"A country habit. We are so very trusting."* 3 stars

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs:  Wes Craven's "The People Under the Stairs" *A ghetto version of Twin Peaks' "Black Lodge" where "Hills Have Eyes" type inbred freaks are trapped in the cellar and "Sometimes further in is the only way out." in a twisted Tom & Jerry style game of cat & mouse.* 3 stars

Masters of Horror: "We All Scream for Ice Cream" starring Lee Tergesen, William Forsythe, and the kid from Bad Santa and Eastbound & Down *The Good Humor Man returns from the land of the popsicles to scoop out and dish some cold and sticky revenge.* 3 stars

Gun Fu John Woo and Risky Bidness Tom Cruise present: "Mission Impossible 2" *We've got the cure, we made the disease. Dianetics incorporated.* 3 stars

Tim & Eric present: Bedtime Stories "Hole" *Spitting surreal absurdism sometimes sidetracks the sinister suburban satire.* 2 1/2 stars

MST3K presents: Charles Band's "Laserblast" *Moppy-haired stoner with a muscle-van gets to rain down the fire of the lizard alien gods on his stereotypical 70s burnout and redneck cop enemies in his one horse desert hometown.* 3 stars with riffing 2 without

Farscape: "Exodus from Genesis" *A hot time in the roach maternity ward in the outer reaches of the universe, tonight.* 3 stars

"Saga, Curse of the Shadow" aka "The Shadow Cabal" *Somewhere between Peter Jackson's LOTR and LARPers that run around yelling, "Lightning bolt, lightnight bolt, lightning bolt!"  2 1/2 stars

"Night of the Loving Dangerously" --xxx-- *With the allure of his ever-wanton ex-wife, Traci Lords, private dick, Peter North, is pulled into a web of blackmail involving his ex's new fiance- a perverted CEO  with everything to lose, Jamie Gillis,  his naughty daddy's girl daughter, and gay son's snooping photographer boyfriend.*  2 1/2 stars

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs: "Poltergeist" *Joe Bob maligns Spielberg's involvement with a Tobe Hooper horor flick, Heather O'Rourke gives me the sads, an 80s kids bedroom is full of nostalgic shit, the mom looks sexy even with a streak of grey hair, there's some kind of message about the sinister nature of suburban sprawl,  a sassy medium with a drawl steals the show, and Joe Bob ponders the difference between "Go into the light" & "Stay away from the light."* 3 stars

Lost & Found Video Night Vol. 5 *Hot diggity tallyho* 3 stars

"Purely Physical" 1982 --xxx-- *Schmaltzy motel fornicating where the lovers' lips refuse to move when the pillow talk gets filthy.*  2 1/2 stars

Kolchak, The Night Stalker: "The Trevi Collection" *Fashion victims. Some hilariously bad acting from a witch.* 3 stars

"Gallowwalkers" starring Wesley Snipes *Spaghetti vampire western. The kind of movie Blade 3 should have been.* 3 stars

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back & Return of the Jedi ---despecialized editions--- *Impressive. Most impressive* 3 stars

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs: 1954's U.S. version of "Godzilla"  & "Godzilla vs. Mothra" *Tokyo stompin' in a Texas trailer park.* 3 stars

"Manborg" 2011 *Will Ferrell's 'Westworld', Scott Pilgrim vs. Mega City 1, Napoleon Dynamite 2: Judgment Day, Tom Green's 'Total Recall', Jim Carrey's "Battlefield Earth', Sam Raimi's 'Mortal Kombat: Annihilation', Paul Verhoeven's 'Army of Darkness', Patrick Swazy, Jacki Chan, Jake Busey, and Cynthia Rothrock  in 'Revenge of the Sith'.*  3 stars

Masters of Horror: Stuart Gordon presents Edgar Alan Poe's "The Black Cat" *Pluto, the little devil.* 2 1/2 stars

rifftrax presents: "The Last Slumber Party" *More potty-mouthed and homophobic than a Wayans Bros. "Horror" "Comedy" "Movie"* 2 1/2 stars with riffing 1 1/2 without

The Outer Limits: George R.R. Martin's "Sandkings" starring Beau & Lloyd Bridges *Red menace* 3 stars

rifftrax presents: "Battlefield Earth" *L. Ron Hubbard's  The Passion of the Prometheus as acted out by the rat-brained man-animal, John Travolta.*  2 stars with riffing 1 star without

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs: Mel Brooks "Spaceballs" 3 stars

rifftrax presents "Fantasic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer" *Fate of world hangs in balance while obnoxious bantering, obnoxious celebrity  style wedding is overshadowing focus, obnoxious background extras actors mug for the camera and stare at the pop culture status heroes, obnoxious twirling mustache Dr. Doom villain moments, obnoxious studio thinking Galactus is a stupid concept and yet going through with having his threat to earth being the plot-- leaving us with a cloud of lame spacedust* 1 1/2 stars with riffing 1 star without

Troma presents: Lucio Fulci's "Rome 2072: The New Gladiators" *Televised brutality in a cyber-disco dystopia where the cities of the future are painfully obvious scale models covered in Christmas lights and dirtbikes along with karate chops are still considered pretty badass.* 2 1/2 stars

--- Game of Thrones: Season 3 episode 1

*The inept, pudgy comic relief gets to stumble around  in the snow avoiding ice zombies,

the dashing dwarf gets dissed by dear old dad,

the high class pimp positions himself near the daughter of the woman who always shunned his advances,

the would be future queen shows kindess to orphans and gets politely scolded for it,

a crow defects to the king beyond the wall,

a fiery zealot harshly deals with infidels,

a shiprecked war veteran brother puts himself back in harm's way to try to talk sense to his witch's pussy whipped brother,

the king of the north returns to his scorched hometown and imprisons his mum there,

a puppy eyed dragon mama sails with her seasick soldiers and goes shopping for baby slaughtering drone warriors while narrowly escaping creepy child with scorpion assassination attempt.*

3 stars

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rifftrax' Mike Nelson riffs "Predator" *"Speak mono-Slavic-ally and carry a big stick."* 3 plus stars with riffing 3 without

George Lucas & Ron Howard present: "Willow" *In order to save a red-headed bastard baby, Frodo Skywalker  fellowships a force of ragtags including a Han Solo in Pocahontas drag, an indian in the cupboard Kevin Pollack,  and a wizard lady trapped by spell in the body of a wombat.*  3 stars

rifftrax presents: "Twilight: New Moon" *A frigid, psycho chick gets dumped by her prissy,  older, unhealthy obsession. she then begins having night terrors ruining  the sleep of her closet gay lumberjack dad. next, she begins leading a lovesick  puppydog around on a leash while getting wreckless on a mopad, attempting suicide  for attention and all before going on a sisterhood of traveling pants adventure to a pretentious Anne Rice version of faggy Europe. 1980s teens were awesome. 2000s teens are awful.*  2 stars with riffing 1 star without

---- monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs:

"Slaughter High" aka "April Fool's Day"

*These jokers aint' f-f-f-foolin'. They like their drugs, they like their sex, they like their cruel pranks on nerds.

Unlucky for them,  their 10th year class reunion takes place at the now abandoned old high school in the middle of nowhere on a rainy night.

It's the perfect setting for an old dark house horror mixed with Agatha Christie style revenge picture.

This is one of the best episodes of monstervision.

It features a classic 1980s slasher flick, it has the original mail girl, Joe Bob skewers the logic of the TNT censors, and he reads an awkward letter from a male admirer named Rufus.*

3 stars

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

"A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors" *Freddy flew over the cuckoos' nest* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: "Valerie 23" *Do androids sleep mode with electric wet dreams? 2 be or R2D2? See, I could think of some existential questions to ask my prototype sexbot over a romantic dinner, especially if she were the first sentient being of her kind, and had Hulk strength for no apparently necessary reason.* 2 1/2 stars

Jamie Gillis in "Midnight Heat" 1983 --xxx-- *Rare grime. A gem of a different time. Seedy NYC.* 3 stars

Masters of Horror: "The Washingtonians" *Patriotic blue hairs set their wooden teeth on edge about the disclosure of that rich colonial tradition of chomping on cherry tastin' child flesh.* 2 stars

Farscape: "Throne for a Loss" *Rigel, the royal pain in the rear.*  3 stars

"Hellraiser 2: Hellbound" uncut *The stigmata of Sigmund Freud, from the makers of 'Scratch it, sniff it, squeeze it, suck it,' now available at finer novelty shops.* 3 stars

Twin Peaks: "On the Wings of Love" *Hangover cures, hidden secret half-sister, hallelujah for the hard of hearing, hometown beauty pageant queen hitlist, and hoot owl hieroglypics.* 2 1/2 stars

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs:  Randy Quaid in "Parents" *A Norman Rockwell painting hanging on the wall behind the desk at the Bates Motel.* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: "Blood Brothers" *Twelve immortal monkeys* 2 1/2 stars

"Kill List" 2011 -- *This feels like it could be a Garth Ennis story. It has old mates drinking together and shooting the shite about life. It has acts of extreme violence almost to the point  of dark comedy. It has a bleak poignancy. There's also the occult undertones like a Hellblazer comic.* 3 stars

William Hurt in Ken Russell's "Altered States" *Waiting, in a fish-bowl, for Godot.* 3 stars

Kolchak, The Night Stalker: "Chopper" *Stunt motorcycle riding, sword slashing specter with separation anxiety.* 3 stars

Farscape: "Back, and Back, and Back to the Future" *"Psychic Spanish-fly," alien lady combat, genetically structured spy seductress, quantum singularity also known as a blackhole used as a soul saving secret weapon of mass destruction that is seriously in jeopardy of being stolen or accidentally set off."* 3 stars

"The Wind" starring Meg Foster, Wings Hauser, & Steve Railsback *Swept up in stormy solitude and story.* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: "The Second Soul" *Lending our dead bodies, like they were used cars, to alien parasites, leads to some serious moral implications. Feels like a 50s style sci fi message about the dangers of multiculturalism given a more progressive twist at the end.* 2 1/2 stars

"Virgin Witch" --sexploitation-- *Prissy Galore throws a feisty spell when a group of dysfunctional devil worshippers decide they really, really fancy her.* 2 1/2 stars

Van Damme / Raul Julia "Streetfighter" *"Who wants to go home, and who wants to go with ME?!" Self aware dumb fun.*  2 1/2 stars

rifftrax' Mike Nelson riffs "xXx" starring Vin Diesel, Samuel L. Jackson, & Asia Argento *Double Ohhh Seven sez, "Do the DEW, dude."* 3 stars with riffing 2 stars without