#crack; stuck in the astral plane again

[bvrriers]

-tags-

ooc; no barriers || ic; a child with too much power || mus; i want to change the way things are || crack; stuck in the astral plane again || visage; blessed child || hc; barriers around the soul keep it from getting hurt again || dash com; left on read || drabble; letters i never wrote home

[carefulfears]

let's chat about mulder and names <3 (and bear with me because i'm not feeling great today)

"who'd you tick off to get stuck with this detail, scully?"

following only "no one down here but the FBI's most unwanted," and "isn't it nice to suddenly be so highly regarded," his third wise-crack is the first to address his new partner by name; effectively endowing dana with new identity as soon as she crosses the basement office threshold.

one of the few things that i get a kick out of in season nine, is how everyone has a first name again, after mulder leaves.

characters that we have known for years as "scully," "skinner," "doggett," and "reyes" become "dana," "walter," "john," and "monica."

it means something else, in this particular group, in this particular absence.

when scully's father passes away, mulder addresses her by name for the first time (visibly throwing her off as she clocks the difference, chuckling and repeating it back) to check on her personally, before suggesting that she take some time away from work.

and this continues to be the line drawn throughout season one, a way that he signals a personal connection apart from the professional; notably here in lazarus, when concerned for her safety ("this one is important to me")

carrying over to his next partner, he also utilizes this timing to establish connection with krycek, when they were working together.

(i believe that krycek is the only character other than scully that we hear mulder call their first name? do with that what you will!)

and seven years later, to reference and recall that connection, in the end.

after nearly a year together, always the learner, scully attempts to reciprocate this method; addressing him by his own first name, when she has something personal that she wants to communicate.

when she's cut off, and he interrupts with a laugh and shake of his head.

he tells her, "i even made my parents call me mulder," which is not true- but as discussed here- isn't a ploy for distance either. rather, it's more to say, "this is what i prefer from those close to me."

his parents, diana, senator matheson, CSM at times, all call him "fox." everyone in his personal life (aside from TLG) calls him "fox," regardless of if he's asked them not to in the past.

for some, it's a power play. for others, an insult. some just don't care.

my favorite thing about this scene in tooms with scully, is that she doesn't pause. she doesn't reconsider, or redirect. she doesn’t address it. she doesn't look away. she attempted to establish intimacy in one way, and was communicated with, and she takes it in strides.

it's barely a breath before she says exactly what she had planned on saying, adjusted only slightly to accommodate: "mulder, i wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you."

our first introduction to another scully girl, a comatose dana tells her sister through astral planes to say "mulder."

i love this about missy, that she holds crystals over her sister's body and listens. she instantly corrects herself the next time she sees mulder, offering that respect her sister had demanded.

and the first time we hear scully speak after her abduction is to correct her mother, before even opening her eyes.

this is part of their secret language, these identities that they have. the name that he gave her, and the one that she never questions. she takes him exactly as he offers.

diana says "fox" like she has something to prove, scully says "mulder" like it's an endearment. her secret treasure that only she understands.

after all, scully has heard this story: the only thing that stays the same each time mulder recalls samantha's abduction, is his memory of her screaming for him.

"fox" is the last thing that he ever heard his sister say, and it remains hers only. the only exception being the lost children that he tries to save, for her, whom he always introduces himself to by first name.

after a while, that intimacy trick from the beginning becomes moot, as the professional becomes the personal. the work becomes life, and dana becomes scully.

she might be “dana” to everyone outside of that office, but does it compare?

and he only employs it one more time between season 1 and season 9, in the field where i died, an episode all about connection and interpersonal fate.

a whisper, a question: dana, if we had known each other always, in every life, would it have changed things?

she gives him his answer: no. she wouldn’t change a day. and she remains “scully.”

(look at my baby daddy dawg i'm going on the run from the law)

until season 9 brings change, and they are so removed from that office that it would be unrecognizable.

and she’s “dana” over and over. she’s “dearest dana.” she’s his “son’s mother.”

and 25 years after that car outside tooms' house, we hear scully use his first name for the second time. barely above a whisper, it's a personal confession; he's her secret-keeper, he's her accomplice, (he's her son's father).

[afairytalestray]

@storyweaverofgondor‘s Cats-pril day 14: rock ‘n’ roll. This was actually one of the first things I wrote for this event, so I’m very happy to finally get to share it! Also on Ao3 here.

..

Mungojerrie greeted the day by whacking his head off the top of his bunk yet again. He let out an angry grumble. Bunk beds sucked. Buses sucked. Bunk beds on buses double sucked squared. Being on the road was not all it was cracked up to be at all. But it was “all part of the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle”, apparently. He loved playing music, and being in a band with his best friends. He loved performing, and concerts, and the roar of the crowds… just not being on tour. 

He gave his phone a quick glance. He had a whole bunch of notifications, but none of them were the messages he really wanted. Unsurprising, but still disappointing. He flomped back onto his pillow. When he, Tugger, Teazer, and Bomba had started playing together, they had never expected to actually get big. Now it seemed like everyone knew who they were! It was mad that when he turned on the radio, there was a very real chance he’d hear himself! That was awesome, and when the label had suggested a tour, Jerrie had thought it’d be great. It was, mostly, he just hadn’t thought he’d get so homesick.

Well, kind of homesick. The only family he really had was Teazer, and she was here with him. That was awesome, but damn did he miss Coricopat. Jerrie loved Cori with every fibre of his being, but Everlasting, he was so awful at checking his phone. His wonderful boyfriend was forever getting his head stuck in the astral plane or whatever, and forgetting that the thing needed to charge. This was normally not a problem. He was used to it. They lived together, so he got to see and speak to Cori all the time, to plonk his head in his lap while he was meditating, and feel the glorious scratch of his claws on his scalp. The fact that Cori was a trained masseuse was an added bonus, Jerrie just loved feeling close to him.

Teazer and Bomba didn’t get it at all. Teazer was living her best single life, and Bomba’s girlfriend Demeter was their travelling makeup artist, so was always nearby. Tugger got it, kind of. His boyfriend Misto was a principal dancer at the National Ballet, so their schedules often clashed, but Misto was half decent at checking his phone. Jerrie couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous when he saw Tugger glued to his screen.

But there was no point in getting moody about it. Cori loved him, this he knew, and that meant everything. Jerrie hopped down from his bunk, and padded to the front of the bus. They had been driving through the night to get to their next tour stop; where that was, Jerrie had long since lost track. He had no doubt it would be nice enough. Peering through the windscreen, he saw they were approaching a city he didn’t recognise. 

“Be there in 20,” the driver told him. Jerrie plastered a grin over his face and went to get dressed.

He was slightly happier by the time their bus rolled to a stop. Bomba had informed him that they were stopping for a week here - a few nights of work and then a few days break - so they got to stay in a hotel that didn’t have wheels and had proper beds! Jerrie couldn’t wait. He hopped off the bus with a new spring in his step, and took a deep breath of fresh, not-bus air.

“Mungojerrie.”

Eh? Jerrie heard his name, and spun round. He knew that voice! Only one Cat ever full-named him. He gave a bellow of delight and charged forwards, launching himself onto Coricopat, who was walking up the street towards him. Cori let out that soft little laugh Jerrie adored so much, and Jerrie kissed him all over his beautiful face for several minutes.

“Corks! What are you doing here? I missed you! How’d you know we were here?” Jerrie gasped.

“Is it so astonishing that I know your tour schedule, Jerrie?” Cori hummed, leaning into the very tight hug Jerrie was now trapping him in.

“I don’t know my tour schedule!”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Cori laughed quietly.

“But like, what are you doing here? Did the physic powers tell you that I missed you, or was it the gazillion messages on your phone?”

“I missed you and I wanted to see you,” Cori said simply. “I knew you had a few days off here, and I thought you might want to spend them together. Did I not tell you this?”

“No!” Jerrie squawked.

“Oh, I must have forgotten to respond to your messages. I thought I had. I’m here now, does this suit you?”

“OF COURSE IT DOES!” Jerrie picked him up and twirled him around, before kissing him again. Everlasting, he loved this Cat so much. How did he always know exactly what Jerrie needed? Sure, he could be better at answering his phone, but Jerrie wouldn’t trade him for the world.

[eternally-hypothermic]

Fandom: The Sandman (TV)

Title: Screaming your name / across the astral plane. Possible Multichapter

Hob Gadling & Dream of the Endless

Summary: Alexander Burgess does not intend to carry on the legacy of his father, but he also knows he can't set Dream free after what he did to Jessamy. He does not stay at the house, instead, he locks it and leaves Dream in the basement.

The house does not sit abandoned for a long time.

A certain Hob Gadling has been just dying to explore Fawney Rig. He did not expect to find his stranger in the basement. A stranger who can't hear him because there is no air in that glass, and who has all but given up before he came. And what is that about his weird dreams lately?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48107866

@badthingshappenbingo

Full story under the cut!

“We are leaving” Alexander Burgess says, hand in hand with his lover, “If you can not promise to not come after us, and if you can not even talk to us, I can’t let you out if it means you’ll haunt us” he swallows, “Kill us. My father imprisoned you here” he looks down and Dream has difficulty reading his words like that, misses a part, before he looks up again, avoiding his eyes.

“I can only hope that time erodes the circle and when we are both dead, once we have had a chance at a life, you will be free” No sound penetrates through glass and absence of air, no word and no tone, and Dream reads the words and hate boils up in his throat. How dare he? Demand words and talk when he does not even grant him the basic dignity of air? Imprisoning his physical form, cutting him off from the magic that is all of his being and rendering him powerless, weak, and still making demands?

The air in his dungeon has long since been used up, he could not speak if he wanted to, sound requires air and there is none. Does he not know? Or does he simply not want to know?

Not long after, the house is empty, no guards, door locked, the rooms deserted. No sounds from a party, no sounds from construction or cleaning were there anyways, but sometimes, he felt the vibration of the dancers, the way his cage shook ever so slightly, the way the water would be disturbed when they tore down a wall. And even if he did not, the guards talked, mistaking his looking at them for malice, but in truth, reading their words is all he has.

Now, they hammer the windows shut. As if to prove his point, as if to do anything else than weaken it, he holds up a hope, a strange, twisted version of it, comes down day after day and tells Dream about how they packed, about the nailed shut windows, about the servants they let go. As if it is all Dream’s fault.

Despite himself, he watches, listens, imagines the words in the voice of the man who shot Jessamy, the man who promised to let him out, his promises as weak as his will.

But for once, he stays true to his claim.

He leaves.

He comes down again, and repeats his plan to leave and then he comes down no more.

Dream closes his eyes, tries to focus on any presence, anyone who could dream, but keeps getting stuck in his cage, in the silence and the pain in his chest. Pain doesn’t matter. Yet, with no sounds, no words, nothing to focus on, it does. His physical form feels pain and he used to be able to ignore it - he used to be able to pass it off as a simple annoyance, but with nothing to focus on, not a single distraction in sight, it is all he has, and it is all he can think about, the physical form that is so weak, that is so fragile and yet not fragile enough, because if it was, he could fall apart, he could slip through cracks too microscopic to see, if he was-

Maybe that is also his pride.

Maybe that is why he loses his mind.

It’s an interesting feeling, losing one’s mind. The saying of course suggests just that you merely misplace it - like a hat, or a universe if you are not careful.

He loses more than just his mind. Without the guards, he also loses track of time. Has his father now also deserted him? There are no newspapers for him to glance at anymore, no news on the sleeping sickness that no doubt ravages the dreamers still. He is alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

He tries talking. Nobody is there to hear him, and isn’t there a question as old as time, if a tree falling in a place without anyone to witness, makes a sound?

He can’t hear himself except for in his head. Is he even speaking? Or just thinking?

He screams.

There is not a single sound, but the rough sensation of it in his throat, the dryness upon his lips, it’s a sensation, it’s something to do, and despair has him in her grip now, she must have, because he screams. He is Dream of the Endless, captured, stripped of his dignity and pride so long ago he shatters, or, he feels himself shatter remaining entirely intact.

In a way, that is worse.

The basement is dark, he imagines dreams and nightmares in those shadows, but he ran out 0f plans and work to think about many years ago.

Blood runs down his throat, and he slams his hands against the glass, presses against his cold cage, as if he could just slip through it.

Maybe his sister will come. He hopes she will. Nobody is here to trap her anymore, is there? And if Despair has him, then Death can’t be far away.

Even the Endless can die. It is easy, even. Giving up is a choice, not an accident. And he has given up. His throat hurts. He curls up as much as he can, makes himself small and invisible and thinks, hopes, begs.

Hopes?

Is it hope? Or is it all that keeps him alive? Or is it both?

A vibration rattles the sphere.

When he opens his eyes, it is not his sister in front of the glass. Instead, he blinks bleary eyes open to see Robert Gadling. His mouth is moving, he is talking, shouting even, but the sound does not penetrate through the glass anymore . He wants to tell him, opens his mouth to do so, but no sound carries even to his own ears, not in his head, not even his thoughts. He gestures, puts both hands on the glass when their gazes meet, and Dream reaches out, puts his own against it. Is it a real warmth he can feel through it? He wants to press against it, his whole body if he could, but Robert Gadling - eyes so wide, face so pale and with this look of sheer and utter horror, backs away.

Dream falters. He falls, sinks back, tears burn in his eyes and he feels them hot on his cheeks.

Is he even real? Has he truly lost - misplaced - destroyed - his mind? Dreaming now himself?

The chamber appears empty and he blinks and Hob is back, now with a crowbar. He barely has time to think or realise what Hob is saying, too focused on the situation to read lips, and just backs away on instinct. It’s the right thing to do when Hob flings the crowbar, hits the glass once, twice, until a spider web of cracks appears, then a hole in the middle of it, and then it…

Combusts.

He realises it in a split second, the very same one when air rushes into his cage, the glass explodes in a supernova of deadly shards and-

Air rushes into the lungs of his body, so fast that it could also be water, the pressure is so high he tries to get rid of it, he claws at his throat, maybe if he opens his chest it can get out, maybe it can stop, but even so his ribcage is being crushed, his back hurts, his legs, straightened out for the first time in so long cramp and all around him is glass, shards dig into his skin with little, sharp pinpricks, so subtle he barely feels them and feels them all at once despite, unbearable but barely noticeable at once. His ribs are iron chains wrapping around, tighter and tighter, and the air is too much, it’s too much-

Is he on the ground? Floating? Both?

He chokes, and arms, warm, stars the warmth, he forgot the warmth, how could he? They wrap around him, pull him up, more warmth and upright, his chest loosens a little and he gasps for air, it does not slow or maybe his physical form just doesn’t. Fuzzy static dances on the edges of his vision and in his head, thick and heavy and floating still, his body is numb and shaking and the pressure in his throat lets him gag, cough and then gag more. It’s too many sensations at once, he needs it to stop, all of it, now, please, please! The broken sob escaping him makes him gag once more, cough and sob and gasp, until this is all he ever did, until he wonders in a distinct way if this is his whole existence, if it ever ends, if it ever started, if this is just his being now. The tears don’t stop, even when he draws in ragged and painful breaths that finally - finally, after an eternity and the end of the universe - do not have him choke on them anymore. He falls, or so he thinks, but in a way he knows he is not. Because Hob Gadling is here. He is warm. And he is talking, though his voice registers only slowly, getting louder the more present Dream feels.

“...known! I- Fuck, I thought-” His hand is running through Dream’s hair, the other is rubbing his back and it works because is all but in Hob’s lap to begin with.

“There were these rumours about him having the devil locked up in his basement. And then the strangest thing happens - he dies and his son disappears and the house stands deserted. Everyone says it's haunted. So I thought, Hob, why don’t you check that out?” he grins, a manic grin, all teeth and not reaching his eyes, “I would have come sooner. I would have- Fuck” Fabric is wrapped around his body, a jacket, a coat? “If I had known… Fuck-” He can’t see his face, the sensations are so many at once and he doesn’t care because he drinks them in without even caring what they are, the smell of stale water, rusting metal, moss and algae, of light breaking off the shards of glass like a mockery of stars.

He looks at these shattered pieces and laughter bubbles up in his throat. Shattered. Like his mind. Like his thoughts, shattered into pieces, apart, a thousand bits-

It hurts, it’s a wretched sound like rusted nails, but he can’t stop it. He laughs until tears run down his face, until the air in his lungs is gone and then he laughs a little more, desperate sobbed laughter. Hob Gadling does not move away. Dream is distinctly aware that he is speaking, but he just knows, does not listen. He wants to reach out to touch the shards, the glass that kept him, feel the sharp edges only to know they are there and this is real, and suddenly, so sudden that it washes over him, makes him shiver, he screams.

He hears himself do it, and before he knows it, he can’t stop. With every scream, every sound he makes, every little string of desperate cries from his lips, the relief that is so cold on his back showers him with more, he can’t stop now, he just can’t stop. His voice, broken and pained, echoes in the basement, bounces from the walls back at him.

Fabric fills his face, and a hand is on his hair, and he screams, muffled now, into Hob Gadling's shoulder, crying, screaming, sobbing, wailing, it’s all the same and yet it is not.

“Shhh… I got you. I got you, I have you, I’m here. Let it all out, you can just let it all out, okay?”

He stays there for a long time. Hob does not let him go, does not stop rocking them both and Dream is too tired, too exhausted beyond comprehension even, to think about the implications. They are there - they are somewhere there but they could even come to mind and we would not spare them a second thought.

“Are you still with me? Because if you passed out and I’ll take you to my place I don’t- I need to know you’re okay with that” Oh Hob Gadling.

He surfaces from the embrace of wool to pose a question, maybe to form an answer, only to break into another coughing fit. Hob rubs his back, and he is halfway aware that he is in the other man’s lap, being held upright, and did he notice that before? He does not have the energy to even think about this.

He tries again, not a question, just the name, and his throat closes up. The sound he makes is a scratching whimper, not even close to a name, a word, it only flares up the pain in his throat again, and he has to touch it to feel if it is not torn open.

“Easy” Hob Gadling says, “Does your throat hurt?” He swallows in an attempt to pull breath for an answer, but the pressing agony returns. “That’s a yes then. Don’t worry” warm lips press to his forehead and Dream- Oh, maybe Dream is dreaming, because he reaches out and clings.

“There was… There was no air in there. I heard it when the glass shattered and how- You couldn’t hear a thing I said, could you?” He pauses, maybe realising what he is saying or maybe realising that him talking is all Dream needs. The sound, the feeling, everything is too much at once but yet, but yet he cherishes it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you couldn't hear me. I just- I had to step back to get the crowbar, I didn’t mean to- Jesus-” He holds him tighter and Dream melts, tries to crawl into him, the warmth, the heartbeat, sound and touch and-

Smells. He smells of Whiskey and coffee and paper. He smells like paper , and it brings the tears back to his eyes, but swallowing down the lump in his throat hurts. He tastes metal on his tongue, but swallowing the blood down is not a real option either, and his dignity is already so far out at sea he does not even care when it dribbles down his cheek.

“I saw your face earlier and- I would never leave you. Never. No matter… No matter what. I’d never leave you anywhere, of course- I should have come earlier” He wants to make a sound, give in any way a sign he heard, but all he is able to do is push his face deeper into the woollen shirt of one Hob Gadling. Smells. He smells of paper, and of sweat, he has substance and- Paper. Like stories and books and he bought a printing press and-

“We should go. This is not a good place to stay”

His hands are weak and numb but despite the effort, he tries to cling to Hob, his heart, such a weak and physical thing, why can he not get rid of it? hammers in his chest and the pitiful sound comes again.

“Hey, easy there” Hob stops moving, he is still in his range, still close. “No need to work yourself up about it… I’m right here. Not going anywhere, duck, alright?” He adjusts, but only in wrapping the jacket tighter around him, “You can’t walk, can you love? That’s alright. I can carry you - Can I?” He does not care as long as he can stay where he is, and his absence of an answer seems answer enough, because he is hoisted up into Hob’s arms. It changes his position - he can bury his nose into the crook of his neck now, skin, cologne he does not know, and he opens his eyes only to watch the chamber, the basement as they go up the stairs, become smaller. They walk towards a light, yellow and soft, and he tugs on Hob’s shirt to get his attention. Trying his words, he nearly chokes, and Hob actually has to set them both down on a carpet when Dream coughs up thick blood in painful heaves. He wants to claw at his throat, dig out the painful organ that makes this happen, rip it out so he can be free of this, but his hands are occupied being held by Hob Gadling, who touches him, who holds him so he can’t fall into the blood on the carpet. His tools, he wants to say, his things, but even as weak as he is, he knows he’d feel if they were close.

“We’ll get to the car. There is some stuff in the back, but my driver won’t say a word. He was part of my … gang. Now, don’t worry, we weren’t mobsters or anything, we just… some idiot really kept the pictures of my children and wouldn’t sell them, so… Anyways, he won’t spill. We can just go to my place, and when you’re better I’ll take you to yours… Or anywhere you need or want to go. Is that a deal?”

Dream finds himself not caring a lot about what is being said. The last coughing fit exhausted him too much to even try speaking again, and he is pretty sure Hob says more because it rumbles in his chest. The way he is being held is warm against his body that feels so cold. Hob must make the decision himself, because next he knows they are in the back of some form of carriage, and there is another voice. He presses his face into the wool and ignores it all.

[abyssalpriest]

Astral: Learning to Project with Leviathan, 8/8/23

Learning to cause OOBEs again like I used to be actively trying to do. Lev agreed to help me practice again.

I've been a little all over the place lately wanting to get things done (energetic), but also restricted as to what I can do with sedative medication, and Lev's been over wanting to get things done. Basically I had to go to bed because it was beyond bedtime for me, but the night before I'd spent ages sitting there not being able to sleep and he felt like getting something done too, so I wanted to find something to do. I ended up chatting with him, and the topic of realxty shxfting came up. I've had comments on it (that I want to keep to myself) regarding the mechanics and what's happening on a theory level, to which Lev asked why I don't co-opt some techniques to better mindwalk and Astral project if I think they're related. It didn't end up going there, I didn't look into their techniques and I'm not sure if I will, but the realisation was sort of sparked that I used to have fun and enjoy trying to Astral project. Incidentally I can feel in the air that Autumn is coming which is aways a personal awarenss & power time for me, and it is liminal.

I asked Lev if, while he was here, he could help walk me through the process; my only experience with this was with my abusive spirit ex who controlled and blocked my ablity to project, so obviously I didn't really want to just sit there doing what he taught me. Specifically though, it's worth saying that I can get to the Astral just fine, I just want to be more consciously there and able to go over much more consciously.

Lev had me lie down, not in any which way specifically but just, as he put it, "in a position I wouldn't mind letting my body sleep in". I'm fairly alright at tuning into the Astral even if it's vague, I've sort of learned to recognise the radio station so to speak. I was lying on the left side of my bed which is open to the room, he was sat on the right side of the bed which is up against a wall or window. Outside seemed to be the same time as it was on the physical plane, the in-between period of the the early blue morning. I could reference the sky outside so easily, finally back to being connected I think which is what Lev pointed out later on. It was weird to see time line up between planes, but he said he called me to that time for a reason.

He held a pendulum above my face, just close enough that I had to move my eyes pretty drastically to follow it as he pulled it in a lemniscate pattern which I had to figure out by myself. It was tough because naturally I'd lose focus for a second or two or more and I'd have to re-find its position as it was moving to follow it again. Re-finding it was easier with feeling its position in the way I follow and investigate things as a wolf, which is reading I guess it's atomic magnetic repulsion on the air and then me around it or something, whatever it is. But I'd try both - to "see" it and to feel it - to keep up with its exact position.

I asked him if the pendulum was my citrine one because I only have one shaped like an elongated cut diamond shape and presumed he got it from my room, and he said it isn't and to look more at the colour. It was opaque and  like a desaturated meat-red bordering on pale dark magenta and he told me it was a colour that humans couldn't see..? It felt like the pale red was just some of the lightwaves given off by it and that's why it was so dull, that most of the wavelengths descended in speed below what I could see and maybe if I could see them it'd be more saturated and bright. It also seemed to have a natural crack leading diagonally from about top right to about bottom left. 

-

I was going to ask him to recount this part since I couldn't remember. He said: "This is the part you're stuck on? Of course it is. Maybe you should leave it to yourself then if you aren't ready to share."

So obviously I'm going to not do that.

It's less that I'm not ready to share and more that I think I was either falling asleep or conscious over there to the point I don't remember well. I think I need help recalling it though.

I remember at some stage he wanted to show me my reflection, and I think it had something to do with the awareness I had of myself extended out to the sky and the fact that I'd compared his pendulum's colour to the energy of twilight and hands held together - it was a comparison borne of being more connected to my usual energies which I wasn't expecting. He got up and took a mirror off the wall, I think it's still down because it feels like it's missing in the Astral, and he held it over me. I don't think I could see my anything - he's nodding in agreement as I say that - except for a blank hole where my face was and my vague body. I also noticed that although I could see details in his pendulum when I looked, I couldn't see him really at all either, and I'm not sure if it's because of some sort of face blindness or both of us just have a tendency to not want to be looked at directly unless we're in less personal forms. I say some sort of face blindness, sometimes I'm really good at seeing details in the Astral, but for some reason I have big issues with remembering and recalling what any people look like to the point that when I dream, most people never look anything like themselves in the dream bar one or two old friends, and I'm a very energy and spiritually-based person so I wonder if I have issues with peoples' forms in general. 

Anyway. This is about the extent of what I remember, excluding little things like trying to sit up in the Astral while watching the pendulum before being told to sit back down.

He's asking me if I remember afterwards as in after I fell asleep physically, which, no I don't, so he's showing me visions of it.

We were sitting there, him towards the end of the bed and me next to him both watching out the window, the sun rising. At some point he gave me a cup of tea, a brew of herbs my brain wants to say is similar to the cleansing incense I use (juniper, bay, cloves), some sort of herbal concoction meant to get my attention and to remember. He says juniper yes, or something close to it? Some sort of earthy savoury (or not sweet) berry... He's mixed it himself though. All I can see is the blue of the day sky that seeps into my own personal energy, colouring everything I do. It's similar to now where the energy of (time of the year associated with autumn) is saturating everything I'm doing now that I'm awake in the physical plane. We're talking about things, though mostly I'm trying to wake up and stay lucid. It's not like lucid dreaming where it's a huge hassle to stay lucid lest I fall back asleep into dreaming, and is instead so much closer to the dissocation I experience on a daily basis. The two are directly comparable.

What are we talking about? "Weather" he says, though I know that's code. I see little chemical-bond-chain-esque things appearing around me in the air, though like the day blue it's not actually there it just feels like it is, like pale eye floaters. We're talking about bonds between things and I'm looking at the connections between things. His voice is soft, gentle, barely carries in the air despite the fact that he's not necessarily takling quietly, he just tends to be soft. 

[canvas-the-florist]

Fist Fight the After Life (Sander Sides)

Ship(s): Brotherly Anxceit, Creativitwins, pining Logince

Warnings: frog mention, lots of talk of death, food mention, insomnia mention

Summary: Ghosts can become corporeal to prevent one event from occurring. Virgil and Janus become corporeal by accident by trying to stop Remus and Roman from going down a really steep hill in a shopping cart. Chaotic and heartfelt shenanigans ensue.

Word Count: 1.9K

-

“This is a really stupid idea,” Roman hummed, looking at the bicycle helmet his brother handed him and then looking at the shopping cart. Then, he shrugged and put it on. “Still, sounds kinda dope. Wouldn’t want you to claim all the glory for this stupidity.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“No, it’s not.” Janus booed. Remus didn’t flinch or move, because Janus wasn’t quite there. He was in the astral plane watching with mild disinterest. “I’m the spirit.”

“Shut up, snake.” Virgil shoved his brother half heartedly. “No one wants or can hear your dumb puns.”

The two continued bickering as Roman and Remus started setting up their fun stunt. They had found a steep hill at the bend of an abandoned road. Remus had tried to talk his friend, Logan into joining the two, but Logan actually had a brain cell and decided to pass. But he had agreed to watch at a bench in case they needed an ambulance. Roman forced Remus to wear his helmet before they climbed into the cart. Virgil face palmed across the planes.

“They’re really going to do this huh,” Virgil bit his lip. His hands have hidden in the sleeves of his hoodie and he grabbed the insides of it. Janus looked over to see that Virgil was even more anxious than usual. “If either of them die I’m going to kill them when they get here.”

“I’m sure they’re going to be fine, Virgil.” Janus reassured, not knowing himself if he was lying. He turned back to watch Logan walking up to the cart, ready to push it down the hill that seemed to grow taller the more he looked. Virgil’s worries were rubbing off on him. Janus considered for a moment before seeing that Logan was just about to push and-

“DON’T!” Janus and Virgil shouted, this time causing three people to flinch and the shopping cart fell on it’s side just as Logan moved forward. The three humans looked up, shocked and frozen as two… ghosts were staring down at them.

Janus and Virgil looked at each other and then at their environment, realizing what they have done. Virgil’s face fell into his hands while Janus cursed quietly. He saw Remus and Roman get up as if they’re about to run and (metaphorically) stepped in. “Hello, friends. My brother and I are just here to say that…” Roman and Remus looked back as Logan was still frozen. “We’re your guardian angels! Not yours though, Logan. We had the chance to save you two from doom if it was ever to get too dire. So you’re welcome!”

Virgil looked up, aghast at his brother. He mouthed, what?! Janus ignored him. “Any questions?”

Remus raised his hand and talked as he did so. “Are you gay?”

“Yes.” Virgil and Janus replied at the same time, without hesitation. Virgil continued, “But that’s not exactly relevant. Umm, sorry for interrupting your ‘sick stunt’, we’re going to go now. RIGHT, JAN?”

“Of course.”

-

They couldn’t leave. After about a minute, Logan offered his house to have a more private conversation. While walking back the three humans asked a list of endless questions, about guardian angels. Virgil let Janus take the lead as he was trying to calm down. Janus kept answering about what ghosts do but he was sure that Roman wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in the end. Well, until the actual end, he supposed quietly. Logan unlocked the door and the others walked or floated into the front room.

“So you guys were just watching us like a 3D movie?” Roman asked. “Why not watch someone cooler? Unless we’re more interesting than… Lin Manuel Miranda?”

Virgil shrugged, finally able to form a sentence without his voice cracking. “I’m pretty sure many people are watching Lin Manuel Miranda right now, on this plane or not. It’s more interesting to watch someone insignificant.” Virgil realized what he said and quickly continued before Roman had the chance to be offended. “Well, insignificant at first glance. You- y’all are more fun than any privileged asshole with too much money would be.”

“You get to decide who to spectate?” Logan asked, while getting a notepad and pen from a cupboard. “How do you decide? What do you do when a person you’re watching dies? How many times can you step in to help someone?”

“Well,” Janus started. “You can decide who to watch, and you kinda just float around the world and if you want to watch someone, you do. When that person dies and you’re around you’re supposed to help them adjust to the afterlife. And… You can only step in once. But it has to be before their action or you’re going to have to fix it yourself. Which is too much work.”

Logan continued writing this down. Remus blurted out “So what happens after you save their donkey asses? Do you explode into frogs?”

“Nope.” Virgil looked down, uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to respond to this question. It was a sort of touchy and ambiguous part of being a spirit. “I’m not exactly sure what happens. The person who introduced me to this afterlife,” He gave a side look at Janus who looked slightly guilty. “Never told me what that’s like.”

The three humans then looked at Janus with attention. Remus whispered to Roman “I’m still betting on the frog thing.” Roman snickered as Janus started. He was ringing his hands and toying with his gloves while he talked. “In the afterlife you can either choose to just stop all your consciousness or become a sort of spectator… thing. A lot of people choose to watch over the world to cope with their death. When people intervene with an event that’s occurring their existence becomes kind of limited. You can only save a person once and we,”

He looked at Virgil who was looking very nervous at what was happening. “We just so happened to use it. I’m not certain on what happens after this but I do know that people don’t return to the astral plane when 24 hours of being corporeal ends.”

“Well that fucking sucks.” Roman stated after a long pause. “You save someone from something bad and you get in an even worse position? Life in the afterlife doesn’t seem so… ideal.”

“I mean, it IS death.” Virgil shrugged.

“Whelp, thanks for stopping us for doing a sick unstable trick. Now you’re stuck with us for the rest of your existence!” Remus said giddily, like he was a mix of grateful and mad at them. Roman hit him on the head lightly. “What? That is what happened, right? They’re not going to explode into blood and guts, they’re just gonna poof!”

“Well, I wouldn’t cross that quite of the list yet. Neither of them seem to have any knowledge about what’s going to occur.” Logan pointed out and Remus gave a crooked smile. Logan then turned to the ghosts. “What are you going to do now? You have about… 21 hours and 46 minutes left until your undetermined future.”

Virgil and Janus looked at each other and shrugged.

“Do you guys want to prank anyone?” Virgil asked, causing Remus and Roman to grin.

-

After making a bad youtube video with it’s top comment being “The editing is so unrealistic”, doing the most impressive magic tricks to the five random strangers who wanted to participate, and generally scaring people, there was about 15 hours and it was now 12 AM. The group had kind of ran out of things to do so they were playing truth or dare on the carpet. Janus and Virgil were hovering in a position that kinda looked like they were sitting.

“Virgil!” Roman declared dramatically. “Truth or dare?”

Virgil raised his eyebrow. “Uhh,, dare? I wanna see what you can come up with.”

“Dammit I only had a truth prepared, give me a second.” He closed his eyes, as if he had to think really hard just to come up with a dare. Then Roman’s eyes popped open and a smile spread across his face. “Lemme swish my hand through you! I wanna know what it looks like.”

“Rude, that was going to be my dare for Janus!” Remus punched Roman, causing him to fall onto Logan. Logan had a brief blush while Roman obliviously sat back up. “So, do you take the dare Virge? Or are you chicken poop?!”

“I believe you just misused an idiom.” Logan pointed out before smiling a little bit. “Was I just the one to point that out? That was me understanding a metaphor? I did it!”

“Good job, Logan,” Janus remarked. “Accept the dare Virgil, I would LOVE to get ‘swished’ by the not at all greasy twin.”

Virgil shrugged. “Sure, I mean it’s not like I can feel it I guess.” He didn’t even finish his sentence when Roman leaned forward to run his hand through Virgil’s arm. Virgil flinched backwards at the sudden movement but then relaxed again while crossing his arms. “Got it out of your system, Princey?”

His arm was dispelling like smoke moving when air conditioning turns on. Roman did it about two more times before leaning back against the couch, not noticing how close he was to Logan. Logan noticed though. “Yeah, I’m done. Your turn now!”

The games continued like this for a while. There were about 11 hours left when the corporeal humans passed out. Except for Remus, who just seemed to get bored, take a Red Bull from the fridge and go upstairs to do whatever the hell he did in his spare time. There were about 8 hours left when Janus and Virgil floated outside to the front yard. Virgil flew up to the roof and lied down in the air to look at the polluted air in the sky. Janus joined him a little bit after.

“They seemed fun.” Janus started, pulled one of his knees to his chest.

“Do you think it was worth it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us saving them. They might not have even been in danger. And we intervened.” Virgil looked at his older brother and he could see the fear in his eyes. “What if we broke some sort of ghost rule? I don’t know how any of this works and that’s not the vibe honestly.”

Janus took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and put it back on. He was looking forward, in the direction of the hill. “I don’t know. But we did that and now we’re getting consequences. Whether or not this is bad, I don’t know. But I do know that we’re going to be okay. I lied-”

“Of course…” Janus looked at Virgil, unenthused. Virgil held up his hands. “Sorry, what were you lying about?”

The older brother rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to stop existing yet. Because I don’t feel like it. How would you like to survive out of spite? We might not see any of these fools but we could haunt shit, which I know is not your whole vibe.”

Virgil laughed quietly before making eye contact, his eyes holding excitement and fear within them. “All I do is out of spite, idiot.”

Taglist: @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @logan-sanders-enthusiast @onceler-simp @bullet-tothefeels @sugaryenovis @bapbee @mysticalninjanut @fuckimasanderssidesblognow @meowthefluffy @eeredecimalsanderssided @mariita-2006 @mystic-theater-geek @bewaretheidesofmarchyall @callme-vee 

[usetheforce]

Alright if anyone cares these are the notes I took on Doctor Strange for the magic system and Dormammu:

Can push astral form out of physical form by blow to chest

Raised hand making a fist puts astral form back into body

Harness energy drawn from other dimensions of the multiverse to cast spells to conjure shields and weapons, to make magic

Multiverse is infinite

Can use sling ring to open portals

Astral body can go into real world and interact w people; is like crashing through a mirror w shards of glass surrounding part of body protruding out of thin air

Electricity zap from physical body can translate to astral body

Can just knock yourself into astral plane by kind of moving backwards within yourself w your thoughts ig

Time slows down to almost a stop while in astral dimension: “your body hasn’t hit the floor yet” (although i think the ancient one was slowing down time bc it didn’t before when Christine was saving Strange’s life)

Mirror dimension:

Throws hand in front and creates cracked mirrors to go to mirror dimension

Ever present but undetected

Real world isn’t affected by what happens there

Used to train, surveil, contain threats

Don’t want to be stuck there w/o sling ring bc can’t get back to real world

Dark dimension:

Is a place beyond time

Dormammu is the cosmic conqueror, the destroyer of worlds, a being of infinite power and endless hunger on a quest to invade every universe and bring all worlds into his dark dimension

Has bluish black blons attached to ropes floating around, glow with pink and purple and green circles of light

Blue purple green and pink clouds

Kaecilius folds matter outside the mirror dimension in the real world

Connection to dark dimension makes them more powerful in mirror dimension

Can kill inside mirror dimension but can’t affect real world

“We don’t get to choose our time. Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short.”

Dormammu has a face??? Okay think Groot but a big glowing cloud and the grooves are blue and the ridges are red. Glowing purple eyes and a slit for a mouth. Looks disturbingly like Groot now that I think about it lol

Face constantly ripples outward

Can throw sharp spikes at Strange

AND SHOOT A BEAM OF PURPLE LIGHT OUT HIS MOUTH WHAT AHAHAAHHAAA

“Dormammu I’ve come to bargain.”

“You’ve come to die. Your world is now my world...like all worlds.”

*strange gets stabbed w Dormammu’s spikes*

Is what keeps repeating

“Dormammu I’ve come to bargain.”

“You’ve come to die. Your world is now my...what is this? Illusion?”

“No this is real.”

“Good.”

*strange gets stabbed w Dormammu’s spikes again*

“Dormammu I’ve come to bargain.”

“You’ve...what is happening?”

“Just as you gave Kaecilius powers from your dimension, I brought a little power from mine. This is time. Endless looped time.”

“You dare!”

*smash*

“Dormammu I’ve come to bargain.”

“You cannot do this forever.”

“Actually I can. This is how things are now. You and me, trapped in this moment endlessly.”

“Then you will spend eternity dying.”

“Yes, but everyone on earth will live.”

“But you will suffer.”

“Pain’s an old friend.”

Repeats a few more times

“You will never win.”

“No but I can lose again and again and again and again forever. And that makes you my prisoner.”

“No! Stop! Make this stop! Set me free!”

“No I’ve come to bargain “

“What do you want?”

“Take your Zealots from the earth. End your assault on my world. Never come back. Do it and I’ll break the loop.”

Wong: “Get up Strange, get up and fight!” so Dormammu agreed

Zealots disintegrated and sucked up into dark dimension and formed whole again

Mordo is a dick lol

[thesunlitnerd]

Heal Your Aura: 7 Common Aura Problems and How To Solve Them

All of us possess unique auric fields which interacts with the auras of others we meet. Auras are a colorful kaleidoscopic of electromagnetic field of energy which rhythmically vibrates around our body. Our aura is also connected with our health, emotions and other external factors. This is a technicolor, multi-layered coat that we wear at all times and is attuned with our spiritual body, mental body, casual body, higher mental body, astral body and etheric body. Combined together, these look like a psychedelic blend of colors & light around your skin. Your aura is an extension of your physical being. 

But often, there might be some problems with our energy fields that affect our aura and our physical, mental and emotional health. Hence, it becomes crucial to know about the basic aura problems and how to cleanse them.

What is Aura?

“’AURA‘ IS WHAT ONE REFLECTS IN THE HEART, WHAT YOU BRING INTO THE WORLD, AND WHAT PEOPLE WANT TO LEARN FROM YOU.” – OZUNA

Aura is the energy matrix that surrounds all living (and not only living) creatures. Particularly for humans, the aura is something that many occultists and scientists tried to study. From Kirlian photos to scrying with crystals, all who take aura as a fact attempted to analyze aura, or even detect possible aura problems. You see, the aura is not just an energy field. But, also, a matrix of information, which can potentially be used to diagnose, or even predict information.

7 Common Aura Problems

“THE AURA GIVEN OUT BY A PERSON OR OBJECT IS AS MUCH A PART OF THEM AS THEIR FLESH.” – LUCIAN FREUD

In this article we will try to present to you the most common Aura Problems and, of course, remind you how to overcome them. One of our favorite recipes we use is now available and is called ‘cleansing

1.Insufficient connection with the Divine

It is a very common problem, especially nowadays. As many people turn away from spirituality and religion, they forget a very important piece of information about themselves. They are part of something greater, something unique and magical. According to all ancient sources, we have the divine spark within. Thus, we are always in touch with the Great Spirit / God / Goddess.

Reason:

Our energy is mainly replenished bythe divine source. Additionally, we take energy from food/water and the environment, whilst the earth supports and grounds us. When we neglect our divine source, we actually block the gate of divine energy intake. This makes our aura week. We feel disorientated, sad and uninspired.

Solution:

What we have to do is re-establish the connection with the divine, by either praying or spell-casting. Call upon your guardian Angel. Benzoin was believed to invite Angels and welcome them to stay around! You can always burn some Benzoin while calling upon your Guardian Angel.

2. Parasitic Cords

Over time, we socialize and engage in different kinds of relationships. This actually helps humans, a lot, by learning important lessons throughout life’s experiences. The same lessons probably appear again and again until the message is clear and received. However, not all relationships are helpful.

Reason:

There are times when we hang out or even are closer to people who have lost their way. Temporarily or not, these people have a lack of energy. This negative energy balance creates a ‘thirst’ or ‘craving’ of energy. To appease that, one needs to ‘connect’ with the victim. However, this is always a challenge for them, as we are gifted with several defense mechanisms. Therefore, these people try to develop a pathological relationship, with mood swings, in an effort to poison our hearts with guilt and pain. This creates a ‘sick bond’ or a parasitic cord, from which these people feast on our vital energy. What modern people call ‘toxic relationships’, witches call parasitic cords for centuries.

Solution:

Cord-cutting rituals are the best way to free yourself (spiritually and mentally) from these parasitic cords. Of course, when is needed, psychological assistance should be received, too. The toxic effect may be deep. You may need additional help. It was believed that Pure Frankincense can help you smite the dark energies that suck your spiritual energy. Additionally, peppermint is known to heal the auric wounds, after we cut off such bonds.

3. Cracks in Aura’s Matrix

Aura has a thick – energy shield. This is a very effective defense mechanism we use against lower vibrations, curses and the dark arts. However, sometimes, this shield may crack.

Reason:

These rips are usually created after a psychic attack. However, this attack may be psychic in nature, but it can occur in the material plane, in a form of quarrel drenched with psychological weapons. Pain and sorrow create a weakness and these psychic attacks can actually penetrate our shield and eventually crack it. This creates a scar, which opens the door to future attacks.

Solution:

Fortify your aura with love and light. One healing word you can use is ‘Ra(m)’. This is the sound of Fire (and light) which can be mastered to feed and shield your aura once again. Sandalwood was used by Witches since ancient times to help in healing the cracks in one’s aura. Additionally, we would propose Palo Santo.

“LET YOUR AURA PRESENT ITSELF TO THE WORLD.” ANONYMOUS

4. Watchers

We’ve never tried to hide it. Magic is not always good. In Witchcraft and Arcane arts, there are things we love and things we despise. Thus, some practitioners prefer to spy upon their victims, prior to dark spell casting. Therefore, they love to create “the Watchers”. Some of us may have them on our aura.

Reason:

Watchers are intelligent remnants of Spiritual attack, forced to feed on the target’s aura, while simultaneously reporting for everything the target does or thinks. Therefore, this is one of the darkest forms of Witchcraft. Have you ever felt that someone is always watching you? Knowing what you do? Spying on you? Creating a Watcher is very popular amongst the dark arts.

Solution:

As this is actually not an entity but a part of another’s an entity, one needs to exorcise it out of its aura. To do that, Witches used to burn Dragon’s Blood, one of the most potent magical materials ever found, according to the old books of Shadows. Usually, Witches burned Dragon’s Blood alone or mixed with bay laurel leaves, clove buds and a dash of red cayenne pepper (do not exaggerate with the cayenne pepper).

5. Chakra Blocks

In our bodies, there are several mechanisms that help the divine energy flow through us. The most well-known mechanisms are the Chakras – wheels that help the energy flow. There are seven major chakras, but many more secondary ones exist all over our bodies.

Reason:

For many reasons, these chakras may be blocked or severely poisoned by our feelings, traumas and other reasons. Unfortunately, this may bring out many problems. We have actually created a specific article for this issue. You may want to check it, here!

Solution:

Witches during their training were taught that they should periodically cleanse the chakras and help the energy flow! This is not always easy. However, they did believe that there are some recipes that can help them with this issue. Myrrh and Palo Santo (the holy Wood), were amongst the most beloved ingredients for unblocking the chakras.

“WHEN YOU SMILE AND PROJECT AN AURA OF WARMTH, KINDNESS, AND FRIENDLINESS, YOU WILL ATTRACT WARMTH, KINDNESS, AND FRIENDLINESS. HAPPY PEOPLE WILL BE DRAWN TO YOU.”  – JOEL OSTEEN

6. Energy Debris

Our aura is a unique and intelligent matrix of energy. Important information comes and goes. Moreover, this intelligent matrix is not static, for it reacts with anything around. Some times, bad things happen, and the aura reacts by producing defensive energy.

Reason:

Aura can help us deflect a psychic attack. Some times, information is stored from a previous attack, in order to understand what happened and know how to deal with it in the future. This is called ‘energy debris’. It is not ‘bad energy’ is it just the memory stored in astral energy inside our aura. However, this energy might make us feel stagnant and ‘heavy’. This lack of fresh spiritual energy may actually be caused by this debris. We need to periodically abolish it.

Solution:

To do so, we need first to meditate and understand the nature of this debris. What caused it? Later, witches used to burn dried agrimony, in order to repel all stagnant and malevolent energy, stuck in our aura.

7. Insufficient Grounding

It’s no secret that as we interact with this plane, we engage in overwhelming activities. This is why we are often flooded by excessive energy. Although this excessive energy is part of a defense mechanism, we should always balance this energy.

Reason:

As this energy may cause several imbalances in our chakras and aura, we need to abolish it regularly. This is why grounding is needed. Grounding is a technique which is used by all witches, especially after a ritual, or an overwhelming experience.

Solution:

To do so, a witch might employ some herbs and resins to create and multiply the effects. Patchouli has been used extensively for this matter. Furthermore, witches have used Patchouli for smudging to call upon spirits of healing and help them ground. It was considered to aid in meditation and was has been used in all procedures which need mental and spiritual clarity.

“WORDS WERE NEVER INVENTED TO FULLY EXPLAIN THE PEACEFUL AURA THAT SURROUNDS US WHEN WE ARE IN COMMUNION WITH MINDS OF THE SAME THOUGHTS.” – EDDIE MYERS

Your aura is a pulsating energy field that is impenetrable, compact and a rainbow of gorgeous colors. This your own internal and external energy that you need to protect and care for at all times. By taking the right steps you can effectively solve all problems related to your aura to enjoy a healthy mind, body and spirit. By improving your auric senses you can experience better emotions and enhanced energy everyday.

[screechingtrashcalzonewombat]

"Apopalictic Astral Asending" Reavaluate disassociate my self worth...

The galaxies have birthed an uncontrollable being ....

I've feel as tho Ive seen myself split in two ..

Witch side do u wanna see if ur lucky I'll let you choose .

Cause in the end I loose..

One of hate one of love could both be from up above..

Or down below ...

I've began to show signs of delusions as half my mind goes an tells me it's only mild confusion. As my body fights my brain an heart to escape theys terrible illusions.

Yet the other half tries to start a fusion of body an mind an all the suddently my thoughts are no longer mine..

But a evil so Divine that its wound it's way threw time itself I've fealt the damage the energy dealt. I've yelped in anquish an pain been stuck for 7 long years in the rain with nothing to gain .. I can barely fathom to explain im not fully on earth I'm on another astral plane but i fear i flew out of my lane I've gone insane never wanted fame Ever fealt like bat man I mean oops Bruce Wayne. Nah fuck hes spoiled a wet rat infact I'm more like hulk duck when I'm near i wearly see I'm drowning inside my mind but no one can hear my dear I fear I've lost control again but cant compute I've been booted out of the system I've clawed hit an kicked to try to get to the top but i outta of known I've been ripped an thrown from my throne ive been shown what this beast can do but who woulda thought a demon bought my soul ..a jackal a goul.....you'll see me shift into numbness I suposse it was my own dumbness for being to open now cause of me my body an mind are broken an stole. as I weep an shutter an i try to speak but only stutter I found myself weak in defeat ....as ik this demon reaching its peak will plunder an pillage the town I've found I'm bound to this beast nowhere to run not north south or east I can run it will feast on my soul until the end of time ..

For diamonds cannot compare to the rarity of a soul nor a bowl of Ruby's an jems rolled in gold .....

A bold statement you say........

.. theres no ray of light here they stole it away buried it in your mind but how can u define being locked trapped in yourself ...

You've dealt your own fate ...

Wanting ansers u dint deserve ..

Did you like your just dessert's...no?

Dose it hurt ..... After you itll kill children's childhood freinds like bernie & eart ....whent bizzirk an bashed there brains makeing bloody rains

curking on everyone with cutlery forks an knifes* slice *cook big bird with chives after I've shanked him 900 times... 100 more woulda been devine serve him drink to dry alone cooked an ripped him to the bone but not quite alone u may not be home inside but u can still watch...I thought I taught u better than to close ur eyes dont beg or look surprised look away an I'll adopt another stray to do the same a slow sweet death cure's my hunger anyway

.the wines innocents blood bitter sweet to the taste of the tounge

no one thought it capable I seemed...looked ...so young..

They dint know it had just begun it wasn't me but the evil half committing crime with glee an fleeing repetavidly revealingly images to my mind of times & crimes so sickening I thought I'd die forever scetched seered into my mind .binded with no power as one towers over you using your power you cowar for how dose one define the disasbalment of there an every defined mind while ur inner demon dines on flesh making a mess of your vessel you cant even wrestle your way to the light to stay only break down in defeat that your so far away you've became an internal mess cant even stand on ur feet the beast has u chained in defeat u cry an apologize looking for answers as of how to stop.....an then...you hear a voice .." you outta stayed silent instead of talk back. U shouldn't of complained do u still think ur life used to be pain...... . Ur a sack of shit ur wit is less than that of an ant not to rant but I'm not done yet I have ur soul now I'm never letting go no no no I have plenty more so much to show many souls to reap an emotions to subdue after all u said yes.....

...did you forget ur the one who started this.

mess ......you dressed your mind with fantasy an fiction word to the wise never mess with other worldly friction an your itching for a way out but I doubt ull get there before the end of time .after all you had a devil an an angel on ur shoulder an you chose wrong this time. Only took 666 times but I'm patient an always waiting for 6 years hating an burning flesh waiting for a prayer a call after all Lucifer was once an angel an the most beautiful you just dint get to see from what angle he had beauty wrath an determination but u humans resulted in his isolation incarsorason. So now we will end up being humanity's enialation when were done there entire selves with evaporate for the demons have released self hate to pro create creatures in confidence we annihilate the fate of the human race at least the trace slight like us able to bust threw dementions so weve mentioned a start to find the inordinary soul an heart ......humanity was doomed from the start.. you stole our purpose our reason to be......humans sit in sin an glee.

Your humanitys Pride is overbearing never genuinely caring ..

Greed is sweeping the nation its reached ever state an it's got a hot heaping plate of corruption for mankind's consumption greed is grotesque in its steps of the darkest quest to corupt ur mind an want. .want..want until that's all you are is wanting more

Lusting over losely draped garments you've tarnished ur soul .

Envy of what you do not posses but for all you know that information an life would make you a mess but ud still test ur envious tendencies.....

Glutton glutton what have you gained it's not knowledge no for it's to plain rather glutton uve found a urge that wont go away....

Wrath an vengeance blood draw too no one stops till some dies him or you....

Sloth last but not least cant forget you cause uuuh wait what that fuck do u do....you sleep an sulk sit slither out of simple tasks an that's why ur not 1st no ur last like humanity just ask ....

So soon the day will draw near the the number 4 is what you should fear our dear old freinds were sending up for a visit so they can reddit ur fate for each a horse an a trait the first out the door with bow in hand riding a white horse with bow in hand

..

Conquest the start of the final test leading the restthere dark version of light on a white stallion he leads the way an soon will follow hades anyway.

War was next on a red steed he rode prepared to purge an quench new blood for the wars an battels would just begin brother against brother an close of kin witch to win?

Famine foe of all on a black horse with the courses hair so fair merely bone but dont let his appearance fool you hes for he is full devouring your greed taking away everything you want or need an now ur rationed to nearly starvation stretching farther than destination world wide sensation...

Pleage reaper of souls slowly apears steadly trotting riding a very sickly steed looking pale an almost gruesome green with sores an sickness best keep a distance. For he shall be the bringer of death an reap you all one by one to the four you shall fall...

Will you be spared are you true....

Are you happy with your life what did you do...?

Rapture no you still must die.....

Say good by to this earthy chapter theres so much more that manifest after.

But only your earthly husk must rust an fall your all energy of grate mass....

It's time to take the task of self evolvment an enjoy an enlightened installment

this world was just step wrench ur third eye wide open an accept the token of eternal life.

Grinded it to atoms a flash of dust all together ur a self fulfilling must memory pass u in a rush.....

. sudently ur bodysuit is gone ....

But it dint felt like it quite belonged.

You were 7 grams of light matter to be exact an sudently you've cracked the atmosphere ..steering energetic waves my metal psyche caves to the new information flying threw stars consolations.

Suddently speeding at the sound of light the stratosphere seems to disapear ..

My fear is gonewithout a trace an freedom transferred in its place

but am waved in infatuation to find out about out true destination...

Restoration of the soul the goal of a higher self being achieved as I crash into the sun 1500°

I feel a warmth like no other each being hues of light I might of missed earth if not I heard a voice but a mental push no need for speech just thinking it shall be done said by the the brightest in the sun.

Rejoice at last but ur journeys yet to pass ..

This is merely were you start ....

Our flames grew high with frantic waves not wanting to give up the new life we were just gave

Suddenly our flames grew dim as we felt a swirling deep from withn sudently the surface of the sun turned to tin an bent in a cracked an caved with itself our time an space sending us ascending in alignment the same assignment.

Because the sun has begun to change ina twisted way a black hole some could say.

As all of our astral beings were ripped an tore apart at the seams we all merged an formed one all knowing creative being an sudently everything I've know has little matter I'm past a point of human chatter i understand infinity the holy trinity I down in the milky way an experienced every life I've relived it twice I've spliced my genetics into over 2000 million beings I've seen good an bad in between experienced every tragedy to build my strength an studyd every thesis an theory thread an chain nearly drove my vessel insane even took knifes threw my veins in anger yet it failed I was just a trailer.ive seen love hate an anger

Comprehension compasing many others I have love an understanding past many beings there anger seems to brush by me cause I'm with 2000 souls an minds that have formed one to reach a state I can medidate in the milky way an force your negative away .

Our astral self has accumulated complete power an understanding by costuming to our full potential our old body's merely a rental.

Gentle at first then bursted into power showered in knowledge I know now much that I wondered before but now I want more an I've thought till I an 2000 shared beings head hurt cause my girth of knowledge will now never be enough it's tough cause now I must find .... how to ascend again but for now i must defend my vast mind defind crime ...?

Keeping 2000 vast voices locked away so I can focus an try to learn anyway leaning in to vast places is I the 1st 2nd or 3rd or other many plains I cant quiet place I'm traveling threw them all searching for everything I couldn't before .

This life isent like the countless other this life I like it has interesting teathers

I've surpass Angel's an there feathers an vison of a hawk.

I've surpass demonds and there demonic temping talk ..

I've walked on water as I was ripped apart an I felt my self rebuilt every cell of my being got hit with rods of power lightning not even myself can fight me god like abilities the universe as built in me theres ben a spiritual shift a tilt in me somthing generations of DNA sprawled out in a numerical display my old life experiences is the price I pay so that I can be god even if only for a day

I think I'll sit an think somewere in the outter spink of the universe I've cursed myself with knowledge an now I'm aware step into my astral space....

If you dare...

[poppyknitt]

Hopeless Purgatory- A JSE Egos Fanfic

Recap: Because of recent events, Jackieboyman is left half-blind and mostly under the control of Marvin, Chase is left kicked out of his now unconscious body, which is presumably also under the corrupt magician’s control, Jameson, the only known tie Chase’s spirit has to the physical plane, is unconscious, with the likelihood of his survival unknown, Robbie with a cracked skull, and Signe, otherwise known as Wiishu, still missing in her attempts to discover every detail of the plans that Dark, Anti and Marvin have for the egos.

Previous Fic

Next Fic

[October 9th boyos]

Chase wandered around the empty house that he called home, having been left entirely to his own devices as a ghostly dad bro after JJ was brutally knocked out of the equation by Marvin only 19 hours earlier. He noticed that the locator he’d been using to talk with the others was missing from the place he’d left it, so, naturally, he decided to try and talk to whoever had it now. Surely it’d be better than just flat out suffering in solitary silence, right?

“Hey, bro. Dunno which one of the two-Well, three, technically- you are, but, uh, I noticed you took the locator?” He asked skeptically.

“Oh! Heya! I didn’t realize that’s what this was. Wait, who is this? How are you talking to me?” Signe’s voice responded from the other end of the connection.

“Uh. Hey Signe. It’s me, Chase. I’m kinda a ghost right now.”

“What? How? Are you dead or something?! What on earth have I been missing?!” She responded.

“Not quite. Marvin accidentally kicked me out of my body. And, uh, everything. We’re down to just Seán and Henrik being left totally in control and not in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned.

“Oh no! Are JJ and Robbie okay?!”

“Robbie’s skull is cracked, but otherwise he’s fine. Jamie, on the other hand... oh god... He... We don’t know if he’s going to wake up or not. He’s sorta in a coma right now.” He cringed at the memory of the two youngest egos clinging onto each other in the unconscious, horridly bruised states they were in when he last saw them.

“Hey, wait, if you’re a ghost, doesn’t that mean you could technically go to Stacy’s house and see your kids every day without her knowing?” Signe asked.

“Oh my god. I didn’t think of that. Signe, you are a freaking genius!” Chase beamed, instantly forgetting the memories of the aftermath of Marvin’s attack on JJ and Robbie.

“I know!” She chirped, “But there’s still the question of how you would communicate with them..”

“No idea, but if they’re like most other kids, they’ll probably be able to interact with me, unlike Stacy or any of the other adults I’ve seen so far.” He shrugged, forgetting she wasn’t right there with him.

“So... You’re relying on your kids’ ability to see ghosts, and only their ability to see ghosts..?” She asked.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said, already making his way to Stacy’s house.

“Why am I not surprised?” She laughed.

...

....

.....

Chase snuck into his ex’s house by ghosting his way up to the balcony in the back, on the second floor, which conveniently happened to lead straight to his son’s room.

“Gray?” He cautiously called his son, using his nickname, so he would know it was Chase.

“Dad?” He heard the 11-year-old’s response, and the little man poked his head into his room.

“Grayson! Bed!” He said, raising a finger to his lips, so the kid would know to whisper.

“Grayson? Is your dad here or something?” Chase heard Stacy’s call from down the stairs.

“No! Sorry, mom! I just thought I heard his voice. Guess I forgot to turn the TV off!” His son called back, and then came into the room, silently running over to Chase and trying to hug him. When he just fell onto the bed next to his father, Grayson looked at Chase in confusion.

“Sorry, kiddo... Dad’s in a bit of a ghostly state at the moment.” Chase sighed, feeling really bad that his son couldn’t hug him anymore.

“Oh... That’s awesome! And super concerning. But mostly awesome!” Grayson beamed, grinning childishly. Chase laughed, and did his best to hug his son, despite the limitations brought by his lack of a physical body.

“Hey, Gray, can you do me a favor and go get you sister?” He asked when he finally stopped hugging his son, smiling softly at him.

“Yeah! Hang on, I’ll be right back!” Grayson said, and darted off to his sister’s room across the hall. When he came back a few minutes later, Samantha was following him, and they were carrying some paper, crayons, and other art materials.

“Daddy!” Samantha gasped when she saw Chase, and dropped everything she was holding. Grayson held his little sister back as she attempted to go hug her father, like he had, explaining the situation to her.

“So, basically, we can’t really hug Dad right now. But I bet he can color with us! Right dad?” Grayson finished his explaination, and looked up at his father for confirmation. Chase nodded, smiling happily.

“Yay!” Samantha cheered quietly. The three of them went onto the balcony, and the kids set up the art supplies so they could spend the rest of the day coloring and doing all the other fun things they would normally do on the weekends he was allowed to have his kids over.

When the day had flown by, and the sun was finally beginning to set, Chase found himself alone on the balcony, as Stacy had called the kids down to eat dinner. Normally, he would have gone down with them, and attempted to hug Stacy, but she had a new boyfriend now, and he knew that she would probably never let him that close to her ever again, not unless she really needed a friend, and had no other options. So, instead, he sat alone on the balcony, sullenly watching as the sun set before him.

“It’s really pretty out right now, isn’t it?” He head Jackie speak up behind him. He whipped around in surprise, finding that Jackie had indeed briefly taken his spirit out of the astral plane and into this one.

“Jackie, what on earth are you doing here?” He asked.

“Well, a little bird told me that you were spending the time you have stuck like this with your kids, so I thought it would be nice to join you as a ghost, since I doubt seeing their Awesome Uncle Jackie in the state his physical body is in at the moment wouldn’t exactly do their mental health much good.” Jackie grinned, his joke managing to provoke a laugh from his “little brother”.

“Yeah, it probably wouldn’t.” He chuckled, and patted the seat next to him, “Come sit down, bro. I’m sure the kids would love it if you helped them color a picture.”

When the kids got back upstairs, the four of them spent the last few hours left until Samantha and Grayson had to go to bed playing around, coloring, joking, laughing, and just having a lot of general, all around childish fun, despite the situations that had brought them to this moment. Once they were called to bed, though, Jackie said it was time he got to sleep, too, much to the kids’ disappointment, and left.

When Stacy neglected to come upstairs and tuck Samantha and Grayson in, Chase decided he would be the better parent now, and went to Samantha’s room first. She was climbing into her bed, so he gave her a little bit to get situated, and went to the side of her bed.

“Hey Sammy. You doing okay?” He asked, crouching down so he could look closer at the 6-year-old and make sure she wasn’t injured or anything. He knew Stacy wouldn’t do that to the kids, but honestly, he didn’t trust the new boyfriend just yet. He just had to be sure.

“I’m okay, daddy. Don’t worry.” She replied innocently, though, something about the way she said it didn’t feel right to him.

“Okay... But Sammy, if anyone, grown-up or not, hurts you, you gotta be sure to tell me, alright?” He said, tucking her in, and she just nodded in response. He smiled, and did his best to kiss her on the forehead, despite being a ghost at the moment, “Always remember that I love you more than anything else, alright kiddo?”

“Okay, daddy. I love you too.” She smiled. He walked out of the room, instinctively hitting the lightswitch, which only made the lightbulb break.

Shit! He thought, as Stacy called up to them, asking if everything was okay up there.

“We’re fine, momma! Rocky just knocked something over, that’s all!” Grayson yelled back. Chase felt his heart soar, because the fact that Grayson used the robotic dinosaur toy he’d gotten for him as a birthday present back when he was Samantha’s age in his excuse meant that Stacy had kept the toy.

“Okay... Just make sure you clean the mess up and turn him off, alright Grayson?” Stacy’s response came.

“I will, mom!” Grayson called, winking at his father to let him know he had his back.

“Thanks, kid.” Chase said, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“No prob, dad. Though, you may wanna clean that mess up before mom or Alex come upstairs in a couple hours... Otherwise I won’t be able to lie for you again.” He said, giving Chase a big, cheeky grin.

“Well, I should hope you won’t have to do it again, regardless of whether I clean up my mess or not!” Chase grinned back, as his son got into bed.

“That depends on how much else you plan on breaking while you’re visiting in your ghosty form.” Grayson joked, and Chase ruffled his hair.

“Alright, ya rascal, time for bed. Don’t make me break another bulb to get you to sleep, young man.” Chase joked back, while also putting his dad-stance on.

“Okay, okay! You’re making my head cold!” Grayson said, turning his lamp off and getting under the blankets.

“Good night, son.” Chase smiled, tucking him in.

“G’night, dad.” Grayson said, and fell silent, as he closed his eyes. Chase left his son’s bedroom, and looked around the upstairs for a bit after he cleaned up the shattered lightbulb pieces. He didn’t really think much had changed since he last saw the place, at least, not until he got to the master bedroom, and saw a couple of fist-shaped dents in the walls. He felt his heart drop, as his suspicions about the new guy were confirmed.

If he really did still love Stacy, Chase knew he was going to have to do everything in his power to get this man out of the house before JJ woke back up, or else he would have to drag his brothers even further into this mess- And that was not something he intended to do.

Thank god I have the ghosting powers required to do this then, huh?

——————————————————

Part Thirteen of

The Unraveling

(A very big chapter in a slightly darker version of the Jacksepticeye & Markiplier Egoverse)

Part Fourteen

@antis-loyal-puppet

@chaoticcrimsonrose

@septic-dr-schneep

@spaceykidd0

@tiny-septic-puppet

[hueynomure]

Summoning Disaster - Part Four: Battle Cry

In which two of my OCs end up in @fatal-blow 's Golden Verse. Set in an unspecified point before Defenders of Earth's prologue; You can find out more about the story on his wip page.

First part

Second part

Third part

Elise has dirty thoughts, and I manage to write an awful sentence with three characters whose name starts with the same letter. Yes, these are the only events in this part, really. (this part is more Sharaka-centric and as such it's rather bloody)

* * * * *

“Grey one, it’s Elphimas.”

“Roger Windfall,” Amp replied as he crushed the throat of the last living guard in Lab 1’s entrance. “Mist protocol lifted. Status.”

“Cornered, guards seem to be taking a breather,” Adamantine replied. “It won’t last.”

“Too many hostiles, retreating to Lab 3. Magic’s not working right.” So much for the distraction.

“We still need time to rig the building, they’d disrupt us. Their comms are still sealed.”

“Someone opened the front door, but the courtyard’s under control. Elphimas has been a godsend so far.” Windfall commented.

“My new acquaintance is lovely too,” Static chuckled. “Dents armor like it’s tinfoil. We’re free birds, moving toward Ad and co.”

“Adamantine, do you have space for Link?”

“Negative, too risky.”

“Static?”

“The whole experimental wing is desert.”

Amp took a deep breath. Quantum could keep a rigged building alone, and if Sharaka continued to be an asset the diversion team could easily hold a room for Link to portal to… The bigger picture was a problem on its own: this facility seemed to be somewhat detached from the Magics’ hierarchy, but they could take their intrusion as a declaration of war anyway. He frowned, refocusing on the here and now. “Static, get to Adamantine before guards can prepare another offensive, then secure an area for Link. I will cover Reaper and Ethereous, then we’ll portal to you or to the experimental wing.”

As it often happened, Amp wanted to be everywhere at once, but he forced himself to march back to the unhinged door. His nerves were taut as bowstrings: there was an air of danger he hadn’t felt in a while. No one had been wounded yet, but-

Amp noticed the killing intent too late. He jumped backwards, but the bullet caught him in the abdomen. He fell, skyrocketing his own anger to boost the adrenaline rush. He couldn’t pass out. Not now.

“Sniper in the northern sentry tower!” He snarled as he crawled back in the Lab. “Link, to me now!” Fergus broadcasted his location and got himself another anger burst to get on his shaking knees. His guts were a constant explosion of agony, but his legs worked. He started to bury the pain and the rage – hoping they hadn’t hindered the others - as he waited for Link.

The small, sudden void of the sniper’s mind as Windfall got them was a meager satisfaction.

* * * * *

Static’s fingers twitched when he heard Amp call for help. Well, growl for help. “I suddenly feel like jogging a bit.”

Sharaka sniffed toward a metal windowless door. “That was sharp rage, he’ll be fine.”

“As reassuring as you may have meant it to be, I’m still feeling the fitness kick.” Static started running, straining to feel hostiles on his way. It was of some relief to hear heavy stomps following him.

A minute later, Static felt people-like current behind a corner. He slowed down, gathering charge, and noticed he couldn’t hear Sharaka anymore. Which was why he almost fried her when she dashed past him at full speed. He stuck his head and a hand beyond the corner, ready to cover her.

Sharaka turned into a blur, tackling the armored guard into the wall at impossible speed with the sound of bent metal and crushed bones. An arc of fire caught the other two mooks in the face before they could lift their weapons. She clawed open the throat of the first, and her tail shot like a scorpion’s to crack the skull of the second. She started running again without a glance to the crumpling bodies or to Static.

He picked up a gun from a dead guard, then it was his turn to sprint to catch up.

* * * * *

Faizah gestured for her three teammates to take their positions, and cringed feeling the armor’s gloves hindering the simple movement. Not that she wasn’t grateful for the protection – it had allowed her to walk right through the bright pink barriers and even to shrug off a hit from motherfucking Static – but it was experimental equipment, so not exactly tailored for comfort.

The door seemed intact. Faizah crouched and nodded in Noah’s direction, who unlocked the door with his pass card. Faizah cursed the genius that had decided to make unlocking doors beep, and the magic blowhard with no field experience that didn’t want to cover her squad’s noise with fire. Nevertheless, they were two walls away from the Defenders, odds were they didn’t hear it: there were two doors to the archives, and all three Defenders had been seen at the other one. They checked the room with practiced motions and moved onwards.

When they approached the room next to the Defenders’ she heard low feminine voices. One fast and nervous, the other dry and confident. Ideally Faizah would have wanted to check the side rooms, but they had to pass right in front of the open door to do that so no such luck. She gestured for her team to be extra cautious and they slowly took positions to attack the Defenders.

“Shield!” Third voice side room fuck!

Faizah moved to shoot but a pink barrier blocked the bullets. A flashbang obliterated her sight and hearing. A shotgun got her square in the chest, and Faizah took her last moments to appreciate the tungsten balls it took to throw a flashbang at the last possible moment.

* * * * *

“Shield!” Someone shouted from the archive’s back rooms, followed by a deafening boom and gunshots. Good, Faizah’s team had fulfilled their scope.

Lei Fan’s magic coursed the inscribed staff in his hands, which in turn infused enough magic to the knife lodged in its end to turn the metal kill them dark red. He tapped the knife’s point to the wall and it just… exploded outwards, as if yes destroy hit by a wrecking ball, and the magic’s buzzing subsided a bit. He stepped away, allowing security to exploit the new path of attack, and shook his head to clear it from the magic’s unusually definite intrusive thoughts.

He gestured to a waiting squad to follow: “We’re going up, collapsing their escape routes,” and left the other firing squads behind. He had no delusion to overwhelm the Defenders’ strongest defensive powers yet, and as useful as his armor was it wasn’t designed to block heavy gunfire. It also was pretty heavy; he promised himself to start working out as he sweated just by climbing the stairs.

He was tracking down the Defenders’ position by following the sound of gunfire when something large slammed against a wall behind him. Lei Fan turned to see the squad decimated: the leader was crumpled against a wall, chest caved in, another was clawing at the horrible burns on his face and... his lizard?! ...was ripping something bloody from the back of a third. How? Why?

Lei Fan charged a Wizard’s Fire to throw at the lizard, but destroy the attack slipped from his hand before he could aim it properly. The lizard dodged easily and drove its claws knuckle-deep in the throat of the fourth member of the squad, using him as a shield. Its tail lashed out and hit the man with face burns, who fell with a whimper.

They started kill circling each other, Lei Fan with his weapon high to discourage a direct attack – the lizard hissed when it recognized the knife – and the lizard keeping the dying man at arm’s length. Lei Fan remembered the helmet’s visor was mirrored, and started the Black Maze’s incantation under his breath, his head ringing inexplicably as the spell took hold.

* * * * *

Sharaka was suddenly holding a shapeless mass of darkness in a dim-lit, flickering hedge maze. It all smelled strongly of illusion, plus the sharp stench of this plane’s mana; no contest with the finesse of vedalken magic. She could almost feel his illusion as a slimy coat over reality. She closed her eyes, focused on the burning anger and fanned it, fueled it until she started to shake with rage, fury overtaking all her functions, and felt the illusion flicker when her last sliver of control evaporated.

She flung the dead weight aside and roared, the world vibrating with her rage. She smelled her sweating prey, holding her weapon in front of it - as if it mattered, as if it wasn't already dead. She dashed, entering its guard before it could notice, and shattered its visor with her fist. The prey was sent flying, slow as a snail. She grabbed the weapon from its hands and slammed her tail on its chest so hard the ground shook when the prey hit it.

The following hit with her weapon turned the prey into an explosion of gore and scrap metal.

* * * * *

A terrified silence followed the roar, as everyone’s hindbrain screamed there was A Predator around and failure to locate it would mean certain death. Fortunately for the Defenders, hanging around Fergus had them somewhat tempered against sudden bursts of emotion; Siphon and Adamantine took down five hostiles before they could snap out of it. Fortunately for the Magics, five people weren’t going to matter in the long run: Siphon still had afterimages and ringing from the flashbang, and judging by Astral’s and Adamantine’s concentrated frowns the prolonged use of their powers was starting to take its toll. Reaper and Ethereous were retreating without cover. They hadn’t heard from Amp since he had been hit.

The whole building shook. Siphon looked up, cold sweat running down her cheek. No part of the ceiling seemed to be about to fall on their head. Good. She took aim and cracked a visor, stunning her target for the time Adamantine needed to finish reloading and turning their face into mashed beets.

Hearing electricity crackle made her dizzy with relief. Lightning took down every hostile in sight in less than a second, and Siphon wished she could ride Static there and then. She settled for savoring the familiar smell of ozone, and moved forward to make sure there weren’t armored hostiles left.

Four kills later, Static casually strolled in. “I hope it still falls under the ‘fashionably late’ category.” The magnificent bastard grinned his shit-eating grin, and Siphon felt the urge to shut his mouth with her-

“What was that roar?” Adamantine asked, interrupting Siphon’s train of thought.

“A friend, believe it or not,” Static replied, “I’d have gone for the ‘she followed me home’ line if she had actually come with me. Now unless you want to take a few more souvenirs, we have a Link to catch.” Static led the way to the experimental wing. All guards in the building were probably either dead or hiding in a broom closet, but the four Defenders swept the rooms properly because no one wished for more surprises, not even Static.

“Sharaka! Fancy meeting you here!” Static blurted as he checked a T-shaped junction, then slowly backed away. “…Sharaka?”

Siphon moved to see who Static was talking to and stopped dead in her tracks when two reptilian eyes met hers with an utterly inhuman stare. ‘Sharaka’ was half-crouching, as if poised to attack, her blood-soaked arm wielding some sort of spear with a bad case of magic buzzing and her tail arched like a scorpion’s. Siphon had no problems associating this… creature… with the blood-curling roar from earlier; she had to be even more dangerous than she looked, because despite the dozen paces between them Static’s fingers were flexing nervously.

“Nice to meet you! Are you Static’s new friend? Disclaimer: we taste terrible.”

Sharaka followed Astral’s voice and something sparked in her eyes. She blinked twice, as if trying to remember something.

“Amp said to get out of her way. I say we go.”

“And leave her like that? She was snarky ten minutes ago! The ‘can I keep her’ was supposed to be a joke. Sharaka, it’s me, ‘thank you for saving my sorry ass’!” Siphon’s brain failed to understand whatever Static was saying, but Sharaka’s mouth was moving, almost mimicking his speech. “Did you used up all your brain power for today?”

“Fuck you,” Sharaka replied with a raspy voice. She straightened her back, blinked a few more times and suddenly looked like a person. A very reptilian person, but still. “Next time you go after the mind mage and I take out the fodder.”

“Will do!” Static was beaming. “Care to come with us?”

“Sure, before Frigid Girl there has a stroke,” Sharaka replied.

Static marched onwards and kept staring straight ahead, probably to avoid Adamantine’s gaze.

[parttimewriter-fulltimefangirl]

Asking Space Dad for Advice Chapter 2

Prev. chapter

It has been five days since the very revealing dinner, and Lance still hasn't talked to Shiro. They've just been flying around in space, not taking any breaks. Everyone has been growing restless. Although, Hunk’s treats have been cheering everyone up a bit. Even Keith cracked a smile whenever he saw Kosmo deliver the food. Finally, Lance sees a planet up ahead. It has a reddish hue with some bluish areas in several places.

“Hey, guys! There’s a planet up ahead. Maybe we should stop by and rest,” Lance says, hoping they’ll agree.

“Sounds like a plan,” Keith says, already leading the others towards the planet. Lance smiles and follows.

They land in a few minutes, and Lance realizes that this is the perfect opportunity for him to talk to Shiro in private. He couldn’t talk to him through the lions without someone overhearing, but this was his chance.

They all step down and begin to start a fire. This planet seems to be uninhabited, so they’ll just have to make do with what they can. Keith and Krolia leave to scout out the area with Kosmo, searching for any threats. Like mother, like son. Hunk instead looks for anything edible that he can somehow cook. Pidge opts to play her video game now that she doesn’t have anyone else crowding inside her lion. Romelle, Allura, and Coran try to coax Kaltenecker and the mice out of the blue lion. Lance is finally alone with Shiro, so he asks if they can talk. Shiro nods and they walk to sit down on a big rock nearby.

“Everything okay, Lance?” he asks, sitting down first. Lance follows suit, his nerves getting worse than before.

Lance looks down at the ground, unsure he can look Shiro in the eyes when he says what he wants to say. “Well, in general, a lot of things aren’t okay. We’ve almost died like a thousand times, and you were stuck in the astral plane, and I couldn’t help you, which I blame myself for. You tried to reach out to me, but I didn’t realize it. Now, I’m rambling, and this wasn’t even what I was originally going to talk about. Man, I’m a mess.”

Lance can’t believe he said all that. That wasn’t even what he wanted to say! How the fuck did he go from trying to come out to revealing all of his guilt? It’s not like anything he said was untrue, but that wasn’t what he wanted to tell him. Shiro hasn’t said anything, worrying Lance.

Finally, Shiro clears his throat. “Lance. Can you look at me?”

Lance looks up, feeling the tears building up. All of the bad emotions he has been pushing down were coming up, and he hates it. Shiro frowns and says, “Lance, I don’t blame you at all.”

Relief washes over him, and he finally lets the tears go. He cries quietly as Shiro rubs his back comfortingly. He is so grateful that the others aren’t there. He does not want them seeing him so vulnerable. Lance grabs onto Shiro’s arm, and Shiro pulls him in for a hug.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispers. His hug is so warm and comforting. It reminds Lance of the hugs his parents would give him, causing him to cling tighter to Shiro. Eventually, his tears cease, causing him to sniffle.

He pulls away from Shiro, wiping his eyes. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Shiro shakes his head. “Lance, don’t worry about it. You can always come to me, whether it’s to talk about something happy or sad.”

Lance nods, looking back down at the ground again. He got those feelings off his chest, but now he needs to get his other feelings off his chest. Shiro puts his arm on Lance’s shoulder, and says “Now, what was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

Lance shifted and glanced up at Shiro. “I wanted to talk to you about, well, i-it’s about something you said the other night.”

Shiro furrows his brow, obviously wondering what Lance was referring to. Then, his eyes widen, and he starts to look a little nervous. He wipes the nervous look off his face, and says, “You wanted to talk to me about Adam.”

Lance nods, rushing to say, “Nothing bad! It’s just that, well, I wanted to know …when did you…”

“When did I know I liked guys?” Shiro asks.

“Yeah. Recently, I’ve been feeling things about someone that I had never thought I would feel about them. It’s not even just his gender. It’s also the fact that I never thought we’d be compatible. I mean, this guy has always annoyed me with his emo boy attitude and that stupid mullet and stupid smirk of his when he wins in battle. But now—”

“Now, you’re starting to like Keith?”

Lance’s eyes widen, and he whips his head towards Shiro. “What? How’d you know?”

“Emo boy attitude? Stupid mullet? There’s not a lot of guys you can fall for out here in space, Lance” Shiro says.

Lance blushes. “Okay, yeah. I …I like Keith. I’ve never liked a guy before, and just a couple months ago, I was totally crazy about Allura. I’m so confused.”

Shiro sighs. “I know how you feel. When I was younger, I didn’t know how to feel. I would develop crushes on male space pilots when all the other guys at the Garrison would crush on the female space pilots. I thought I was weird for feeling like that, but I wasn’t. It was how I felt, and this is how you felt. Just because you like guys too does not make you any different. It just means that your capacity for love is for two genders instead of one. We attracted to the people we’re attracted to, and others just need to accept it. But the most important person who needs to accept it is yourself.”

“Thanks, Shiro. I, well, I don’t know. I don’t think I can ever tell Keith how I feel. He obviously doesn’t like me like that. No one ever has. Not even Allura. She always pushed me away whenever I’d flirt. I started thinking that she might like me back, but then I saw he falling for Lotor. He was the son of the alien who destroyed her planet, and she still chose him over me. I-I just don’t want to deal with heartbreak anymore,” Lance says, tearing up. He hates how he’s been crying so much. He tries so hard to hide his insecurities, and this was a lot more info than he had planned on giving Shiro.

He quickly wipes away his tears as Shiro says, “Lance, I’m sorry that Allura couldn’t see the wonderful person you are. I know how much heartbreak sucks, which is why I won’t tell you to go and confess to Keith right this minute. But, I think that with time, you will be able to tell him how you feel.”

“How did you do it? How did you confess to the first guy you liked?” Lance asks curiously.

Shiro does something Lance never thought he’d see. He blushes. “Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve never been that smooth with guys. The first guy I ever liked was straight too, which made it worse. He was so confused about why I was stuttering so much when trying to ask him about. I had to try several times before he realized that I was asking him out, which led to him telling me that he was straight. Then came the awkward silence, which led to me saying that I had to go and running away as fast as I could.”

“Wow, that sounds rough. How old were you? Twelve?”

“Fifteen.”

“Oh.”

Shiro’s blush gets darker. “Yeah, I had a crush on him for two years when I finally confessed. You’d think I would’ve asked around to see if he even liked guys. After waiting for so long, I decided to just go for it.”

Lance frowns. “Is Keith into guys?”

“He’s never talked to me about it. Then again, he’s not one who likes to talk about his feelings. Although, he did complain a lot about this guy named Taylor back at the Garrison. The guy annoyed him so much with his competitiveness that he refused to acknowledge him. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to him since he also liked him?”

“There wasn’t a guy named Taylor in our class,” Lance says, wondering who the hell Keith must have been talking about.

“Well, that’s what he used to tell me. The point is, he never liked talking about his crushes. He preferred racing over sharing feelings. But I still think that maybe you two could work out.”

Lance thinks about what Shiro said, and asks, “Whatever happened with you and that guy? Did you ever become friends again?”

“After some time, we did. “Besides, he introduced me to Adam. The person who rejected me lead me to the love of my life.”

Lance looks at where the blue lion was, seeing Allura talking to the mice. She didn’t flat out reject him, but she might as well have. It hurt as much as a rejection did. But if she hadn’t, would he be feeling the way he does about Keith?

“I’ll tell him one day, but definitely not now,” Lance says, smiling a bit when he sees Keith coming back with Krolia and Cosmo.

Shiro smiles at him. “I’m honored that you came to talk to me, Lance. I really think that we’re all a family. I guess you could say I’m the space …uncle.”

Lance laughs. “Oh, please. Shiro, everyone knows you’re the Space Dad. Just accept it.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, “Whatever. You ready to head back to the others?”

Lance nods, and the two walk over where everyone else has gathered. The fire blazes, casting off light that illuminates Keith’s face. Lance blushes for noticing this.

“Okay, everyone, enjoy,” Hunk says, setting out the food for everyone.

Everyone digs in, laughing and talking. They don’t always get to just spend time together like this, so Lance really treasures the moments they do. For once, nothing was coming to kill them, and Lance is free to sneak glances at Keith all he wants. What he doesn’t know is that Keith sneaks glances at him when he’s not looking too.

[thebrokengodofmischief]

We’re All Leaving

The moment he felt death close around him, Loki felt this peace. He knew deep down in his heart he would never reach Valhalla; his life stained by his many mistakes and misdeeds. Yet if he could chose a path for himself -- to live in the golden halls for all eternity or remain weightless in this never ending silence. He would chose the latter. 

It wasn’t dark, nor light. It was just peace. He was happy, for this gentle calm was more than he knew he deserved.

Yet suddenly it was bright and everything around him was harsh. A loud scream from an all to familiar voice was waking him from this slumber and he felt fear along with grief, anger and anxiousness. The familiar taste of revenge filled him and he could feel his sight returning to him.

Everything was grey, like he was witnessing everything on an old reel of film. Thor in front of him, panting and gasping for breath as he stood in a ship surrounded by an odd band of people. 

“Who the hell are you guys..?” The Thunderer panted out. Loki was only grateful the healing spell he had placed on his brother when he tackled him to the ground was working. It kept him alive long enough while help came.

They tended to him and as Loki leaned against the wall watching him from a far he began to understand what he was. Why he was still here and why no one else seemed to notice him standing there.

He was a ghost, his astral form stuck between worlds. Not truly gone but unable to remain in the physical world anymore. It struck his heart and his whole body tense with the thought of it. Perhaps this was his curse, a curse for his wickedness. The bill coming due and the Fates deciding he would never get that peace. Loki was a fool to thing he would be worthy of anything akin to it, even for that brief moment. His soul was tethered to Thor’s and he knew his brother would never let him go.

For as much as he tried to speak, his screams fell on deaf ears. For as much as he tried to grab at his brother, shake him and tell him he was still here his hands would pass through the thunderer and Thor would continue on his talk about the infinity stones.

---

Crossing his arms, Loki sat next to Thor in the pod. “I wish you could hear me brother.. Please.. Just--” He bowed his head and turned away. Guilt flooded him.

Why couldn’t Thor let him go? He wasn’t deserving of this grief, of this unbreakable bond his brother held over him. 

“So dead brother huh? Yeah, that could be annoying.” The raccoon spoke, though Loki had smiled at Thor’s calling of ‘rabbit’ to the creature. 

“Well, he’s been dead before. Now this time, I think it really might be true.”

“And you said your sister and your dad…”

“Both dead.”

“But still got a mom, though?”

“Killed by a Dark Elf.”

“A best friend?”

“Stabbed through the heart.”

“You sure you’re up to this particular mono mission?

“Absolutely! The rage and vengeance, anger, loss, regret, they’re all tremendous motivators. They really clear the mind, so I’m good to go.”

“Yeah, but this Thanos we’re talking about, he’s the toughest there is.”

“Well, he’s never fought me.”

“Yeah, he has.

“He’s never fought me twice. I’m getting a new hammer, don’t forget.”

“Well, it better be some hammer.” Rocket seemed to be loosing this argument but Thor began to turn serious, his optimism failing for a moment and Loki could see it; it made him ache somethign fierce.

“You know, I’m fifteen hundred years old. I’ve killed twice as many enemies as that, and every one of them would’ve rather killed me, but none succeeded. I’m only alive because fate wants me alive. Thanos is just the latest in a long line of bastards, and he will be the latest to feel my vengeance. Fate wills it so.” A few tears fell from Thor’s eyes before he could catch them.

“Mm-hmm. And what if you’re wrong?”

“Well, if I’m wrong, then what more could I lose?”

---

“All Fathers, give me strength.”

“Do you understand, boy? You’re about to take the full force of a star. It’ll kill you!” Eitri pressed.

“Only if I die.”

“Yes, that’s what killing you means.”

“Thor! Stop!” Loki tried to smack his brother, tried to make him see him. This was suicide and he wouldn’t let his brother die! He couldn’t, not after all he had done to keep him safe. “This is madness! Please! Listen to me! Hear me, I’m here! You don’t have to do this! Please!” His voice hoarse from screaming as Thor gripped the leavers and opened Nidavellir.

Screaming with the last of his might Loki pressed himself between Thor and the stars raw heat and power. Any ounce of magic within his veins shielding Thor from the vast majority of the blast but it wasn’t enough. As Thor lost strength, so did he and he felt darkness close around him once more.

The endless silence pulling him back.

---

A loud snap woke him once more and he found himself laying in the ground. A canopy of trees above him as he tried to remember his last moment with his brother. Nidavellir.. Storm Breaker.. The star..

Pushing himself onto his feet he saw colour once again, everything bright and beautiful as it came into focus. Yet it didn’t last.

Stepping close he looked out on the field to see half of the warriors fading into dust. 

He felt winded, eyes unable to look away as he heard people scream and cry over those who were just.. Gone. There was nothing to bury, nothing to say goodbye to. 

Thanos had won. 

This was his fault. Part of him wanted to argue, but how could he? The moment he had let go from the broken bifrost bridge his road was leading him to this. If he hadn’t let go, if he hadn’t seen the tesseract on his way down to Sanctuary, maybe it would not have ignited the titan so to fulfill his mission of balance.

“Loki..” A soft voice reached his ears yet it was as if it was spoken across worlds. Slowly turning he saw Thor standing there, covered in the dirt, grime and blood of battle. Storm Breaker at his side. Tears fill his eyes, seeing his brother standing there; at the end of all things. Skin blue, in his true Jotun form. Darker blue and purple bruises around his neck and dried blood trailed off from his mouth and nose. Thor rushed to him,  trying to embrace his brother but his arms fell through the trickster and Loki stumbled back; thrown out of his shock.

“You.. You can see me?” His voice like an echo now that it could be heard, distant and sad.

Thor nodded. Still in disbelief and trying to understand.

“I’m not here Thor.. Not really. It’s like.. I’m stuck.” Loki swallowed, bowing his head and looking down in shame. “I feel tied to you, when you wake so do I. Yet when you’re gone I find myself in this empty space. Quiet and calm. It’s hard to explain.. I’ve been trying to call to you, to make you see me since you woke on that rescue ship but..” I wasn’t strong enough. “Nidavellir, trying to shield you, I must have taken in some of her energy and now..”

I’m still not here nor there. But you can see me.

“We lost.. Didn’t we..” Loki finally looked up to his brother.

“Yes..” Thor’s voice cracked, fingers shaking. “It was my fault.”

“No..” Loki tried to placate him, concentrating his magic so his touch would be more grounded just like his manifestation was becoming; his fingers wrapping around the nape of Thor’s neck and the thunderer shivered. “This all comes back to me.. What I’ve done.. Because I let go..” Pausing he pulled his brother close, able to embrace him now and grant him some peace. “I’m here still.. Some part of me is still here and the fight isn’t over! This is just a passing thing, a shadow that we must bring to the light. We could spend the rest of eternity blaming one another or ourselves but it would only keep us in the dark.”

---

Days turned into weeks, weeks to months and months to years. Loki stayed by Thor’s side. A manifestation of energy as he did what he could to help what remained of the Avengers so they might take back what Thanos had stolen from them.

All the while Loki could feel himself getting weaker and weaker. The universe didn’t want him here anymore, his soul was meant to pass and he was supposed to end. That he was still standing here was an affront to nature and the true order of things. Loki wanted to tell his brother, to make him let him go but the happiness in Thor’s smile kept him from doing so. He had gotten his brother back in some form and it made it harder for him to pull away. 

Standing just outside on the balcony, looking out at the stars of Wakanda he heard the Avengers converse behind him. Tomorrow they would begin their years worth of preparing and planing.

“This plan.. It might alter things, change the past and then into the future..” Loki stated, knowing Thor had come out to his side without him even looking beside him. “But for the course of my life, I don’t think my ending will change..” Sighing he finally looked over to his brother who looked like he had just been slapped.

Thor only pressed his lips together in a thin line, “Don’t say that.. We’re going to save everyone, even you! Trust me brother this will work.”

“I’m tired Thor, I feel pieces of me slipping away; memories and sensations but as much as I try to reach for them I get tugged back. By you. My life was supposed to end! I was supposed to--” Loki began to growl, turning to his brother and wondering how he could keep looking at him for all these years when he still looked like he had just died. “But you just can’t let me go!”

With that he pulled himself back into the empty; finding a way to control it so he could have his own space and a small measure of peace. Guilt flooding him at the look on Thor’s face when he disappeared.

---

The morning of, the sun began to rise as it always did. Loki stood in Thor’s room, watching the golden rays catch his brothers face and he let out a small sigh. Sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Thor..” His voice was quiet but it was enough to rouse the thunder god. Sitting up he looked at his brother. “I need you to listen.. Because what I am about to say will be hard to hear.”

Thor nodded, seeming to know what was coming after Loki’s outburst last night; thinking it was an apology that he didn’t deserve but he wasn’t expecting the next words that Loki spoke.

“I can’t stay.. Not like this, you should let me go. It’s not right to hold on like this brother..” Loki tried to be gentle. After all Thor had lost, this one small glimmer of his brother meant so much to him. Loki finally understood and it was when he was saying goodbye.

“Why are you leaving..?” Thor asked, voice weak, trying not to cry at Loki’s request.

“It's like I'm reading a book.. And it's a book I deeply love. But I'm reading it slowly now. So the words are really far apart and the spaces between the words are almost infinite. I can still feel you.. And the words of our story.. But it's in this endless space between the words that I'm finding myself now. It's a place that's not of the physical world. It's where everything else is that I didn't even know existed..

“I love you so much.. But this is where I am now, and this is who I am now.” He pauses, looking away as the words catch in his throat. “And I need you to let me go. As much as I want to, I can’t live in your book anymore..”

“Where are you going?” Thor’s voice cracked and Loki could tell he would never be ready for this goodbye.

“It would be hard to explain, but if you ever get there, come find me. Nothing would ever pull us apart.”

“I love you too brother.. Please.. Promise you’ll be waiting for me.” Thor began to cry and Loki could feel himself beginning to fade. Looking down at his hands he saw how he was disintegrating into flecks of golden light. A warmth filling him like he had never known.

“I promise..”

Then he was gone. Not to Valhalla, not to the empty but to a new world all his own.

[alastheatlas]

Why Klance/Laith Will Probably Go Down - Masterlist

I know how season 7 broke many of us. We had a lot of expectations and this season, while beautiful and otherwise good, certainly failed at some points.

However it isn’t the end yet. Hopefully season 8 will resolve at least some of our disappointments. But when it comes to klance/laith, I’m pretty sure we’re going to see something happen. Nothing has to happen however. But I’m just saying, based on all of the things listed, it just simply makes sense that it would.

This is just a show so whatever happens happens. But I'm just saying I'll have faith in laith until if the very last second of the show tells us any different. And here’s why.

Are you ready? [CONTAINS SEASON 7 SPOILERS!!]

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

but first some lecturing lololol

WHATEVER HAPPENS AND WHICHEVER SHIP BLOWS OUT THE BIG CANON IN THE END IS FINE. IT'S JUST A SHOW. A SHOW THAT DOESN'T EVEN REVOLVE AROUND ROMANCE. If you can't handle that then you can go bite ass. Oh and also, Don’t spread around hate or threats or any shit like that. You should know better. Just enjoy the show as it is. And yes, this applies to if your ship becomes canon and if it doesn’t. Spreading hate and threats are never okay. Accept whatever the outcome of the show will be, and let people ship what they want. This isn’t your story and you shouldn’t become sour just because it doesn’t go the way you want it to go, and if it does go the way you want it to go, don’t rub it in the faces of those who wanted something different.

Just be mature and decent guys, it really ain’t that hard.

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

ANYWAY here's my half-assed list of why I believe klance/laith will be endgame by the end of the series:   

[I REPEAT THIS CONTAINS SOME S7 SPOILERS]

Let’s begin with some random stuff:

Lance’s one-sided rivalry with Keith seems to... have something a little extra about it.

The blue and the red star in the astral plane?? Do they hold a deeper meaning??

The bonding moment. It could be seen as platonic, but... The colours and the lightning y'all... Interesting choice. (Also... that a//urance parallel in season 6... Coincidence I think the heck not, purposeful I think the heck yes)

Keith being seemingly really impatient for Lance to come out of the healing pod after the bonding moment, and then appearing to actually sulk for having to wait just a small moment.

In one of the comic books Keith says that he’ll be training and suggests that maybe Lance should too, maybe or maybe not wanting to hang out with Lance and trying to create an opportunity, and then seems to become upset/disappointed when Lance rejects the idea.

Lance talking to the mice about his crush on Allura could honestly pass  as him talking about Keith as well. 

Honestly though was Lance flirting/trying to impress Keith as pointed out here x?

They really pulled the stuck in the elevator trope lmao.

This doesn’t actually have to do with anything but I still find it a funny parallel with Lance rejecting Keith by denying the bonding moment and Keith rejecting Lance and denying him a proper greeting and hug after returning. Are they even now? fuhidsdfu top 10 anime betrayals

The Feud episode (here are the s7 spoilers!!)

Lance chose Keith (read more here x). Look, listen. This was pretty gay. To put it briefly, Lance’s reasoning was kinda weak and he could’ve honestly as well have chosen Allura here. But... he didn’t. And then he seriously says that Keith is the future which is like honest foreshadowing (especially considering how unnecessary it was for him to say that part, at the very least in that way). And then to deliver the final blow he drops that soft smile (a la bonding moment) on us. I don’t care what happens in season 8, this moment was gay af. If I’m stretching a little bit this scene could be viewed a little bit like Lance choosing between Keith and Allura (looking to the side and then the other, pondering, choosing Keith).

Keith chose Lance (same read more link x). Again to put it briefly. We know Keith seems kinda grumpy here. You know what we also know? Keith doesn’t dislike Lance, and he cares about the fate of the universe, therefore invalidating his answer. His body language and expression alone said it all; he closed himself off. He wasn’t comfortable sharing the real reason why he chose Lance. Keith no doubt knows what Lance is capable of. He trusts Lance. Keith chose Lance for a reason (or several reasons), and him ‘not wanting to be stuck for eternity with him’ is definitely not the reason why Keith voted for Lance to escape. Worthy mention of Keith being the quickest here to choose and to finish.

Bii. Boh. Bi. Y’all. This shit. Call it a funny coincidence but the answer was “bi” and the Bii-Boh-Bi kept gesturing towards Lance basically during the entire thing. Call it a stretch if you want, but I have no regrets reaching for this cup. And call it a crack theory at this point but Bob tells the Bii-Boh-Bi “Maybe you could help this dum-dum out”, so this drink tastes like whatever-this-episode-even-was wanted to give Lance a shake. The name game wasn’t even valid. You can be bad at names and bad at remembering faces and still be incredibly smart. None of the games showed Lance actually being unintelligent. And Lance actually did very well in the last game, and I can tell you that game was confusing af so I’m impressed. With this in mind my arm has personally elongated so far that maybe Bob calling Lance ‘dumb’ here wasn’t a jab at his intelligence. Ok hi my ankle is broken but it was worth it. 

Interesting scenery colours and rainbows:

There are several cases of these, but they’re mostly subtle. I’ll leave some examples.

That one episode in season one (is it 06? or 07? you know the one) that is literally the bi flag. We have a lot of Lance in this ep.

In this ep we are also accompanied by at least two rainbows, one when Lance and Nyma fly across the water and another at the end when Keith teases Lance. (Honorable mention of Keith arguably checking Rolo out in this episode lol, we see u Keith x)

That episode when Lotor plays around with the paladins on that planet with the explosive gas, and when the team has split and Keith nears Lance with his lion and no kidding that's the bi flag as a background right there (upside down).

The very obvious, big ass, very not subtle rainbow that's seriously plastered on Keith in the season 7 trailer.

Random rainbow over Keith here as well

The scene where the paladins are in some galra place or something and Lance is sharpshooting and looking down at the others. Background + Lance’s suit + his gun = bi flag colours. 

Funnily enough in this scene when Keith shows up and starts fighting the galra robots (or whatever those things are) and Lance goes ‘I had that guy!’ he looks wayy too long at Keith. Like. Way too long.

Ogling/gloating and jealousy?:

“I’d recognize that mullet anywhere” I’m sorry but if that doesn’t sound like someone has been ogling then I don’t know what.

Again I’m sorry but Lance’s reaction to Keith when he returned wasn’t of the straightest caliber.

Still, when Lance keeps looking at Keith fighting for several solid seconds when he’s supposed to be shooting down galra robots. Parallels a//urance in a way a little bit too when Lance looks at Allura fighting and goes ‘that was awesome!’

But Keith isn’t all that better, apparently

Keith. Out of all people. Stops mid-battle to smile at Lance when Lance shoots away a knife heading towards Keith. Not noticing Axca coming up behind him and then almost getting his ass kicked by Ezor.

After the bonding moment Keith arguably seems like he's jealous when Lance starts flirting.

(Here’s some more hehe x)

How Lance being jealous when Keith is involved could actually be interpreted as ambiguous. It is never actually clarified who he’s jealous over. why not both

Really though the "Jealousy, thy name is Keith" from the comic could possibly be more true than it lets on (though not as you think, Lance).

Honestly I’ll never get over these danking looks:

Lance you’re excused but Keith?? What?? Is that face?? The boy flirted with a girl and ran off and got his lion stolen and you had to get it back for him and you make THIS face?? (Also I think this is the same face 80′s voltron Keith did at Allura at one point?) 

Lance you’re no longer excused. He seriously looks like he's daydreaming of prince charming coming and sweeping him off his feet. (Also remember the face he made when talking about Mrs. Blue Lion x?)

KEITH. HONESTLY. WHAT.

Legit there are no excuses for any of these expressions.

Now for some parallels, some weaker some stronger:

[x] (Krolia/Texas and l0tura parallels, with a dash of Zarkon/Honerva)

[x] (a//urance and l0tura parallels)

[x] (s7 spoiler!), Might and might not be a reach but a//urance parallel (same energy lol))

[x] This entire scene (they make a great/good team). Let’s not forget the little hand glasp Lance does.

[x] (tlok parallel)

[x] (atla parallel)

[x] (atla and tlok parallel) Insert Lance in this context lol

[x] (tlok parallel)

[x] (a//urance parallel)

There are so many parallels tbh I can’t

Allura honestly parallels Keith so much and she LITERALLY plays Keith in the coalition shows

[x] Lance talking about Mrs. Blue Lion vs talking about Keith

[x] (l0tura parallel)

A//lurance and klance/laith paralleling with how both Keith and Allura lectures Lance about the coalition shows not being about the show but about the people 

Some romantic mood parallels:

The previous blue paladin with a (blushing) male galra

Now lets move on to some interesting stuff from interviews and the cast and producers (no sources or direct quotes because I’M LAZY:

We all know about the art Lauren drew with Lance and Shiro holding up the lgbt sign and the theory that goes with it.

Bex pretty much confirming that there'll be lgbtq rep in voltron through a sinister laugh in that vid (we know now this to be true bc of Shiro, but there might be more to come?.. or unfold hehe if you catch my drift). Voltron having lgbtq rep has also been brought up before at interviews. I THINK there’s been hinted that there’ll be a little something something between two characters? Not sure tho

Bex also either confirming or shooting down klance/laith during another vid BUT most probably confirming. You know that vid. Reasons to believe: 1. It was dubious, since we don't know which of the questions she shaked her head to. 2. High Hopes by Panic! At The Disco was playing in the background. 3. I don't think she would actually openly deny a ship when she could have just ignored the question, much less making it so dubious.

Kimberly: "Friendship" (may or may not actually imply something within the future of the show, or if it just was @ the thorsty klancers)

We know that Lance will have an endgame (and Keith happens to check all the points of what’s been said about that endgame)

Lance will end up somewhere different than he thought at the start (he wanted Allura at the start, and Keith certainly would be someone different than he'd thought).

What he wants isn't necessarily what he needs(/gets?? I don't remember lol) (and we know he wanted Allura. plus the lion exchange becomes a pretty interesting topic here, as further talked about here x). 

What he needs/wants is someone who’s self-assured and who knows who they are (I think it was) and hey look Keith is back! (who just happens to fit these criterias more than ever).

The plain fact of how Keith and Lance's arcs actually just seem to intertwine so well.

Also adding that klance/laith interview lol. With the "natural progression" thing and that. And also when Lauren said the only incompatible thing about Lance and Keith is the shipname 'klance'. 

Lance’s milkshake bringing everybody to the yard.

It’s been said that Lance remembers the bonding moment but wasn’t ‘emotionally ready’ for it, whatever that could possibly mean 👀 

And apparently there’s more story to unfold... 

Which may or may not be related but sure makes this a hella lot more interesting (I find this cup worth reaching for ok)

(lmao if you seriously think the folding thing was an accident)

I’m not saying that the pic necessarily implies klance/laith but it certainly implies something with them. Which will be. Interesting.

Some interesting theories:

[x] Regarding the “Red lion” and the “Blue lion”

[x] Keith’s vlog and some interesting tagging

[x] Some possible, interesting foreshadowing?

Highkey Lowkey scared this is actually foreshadowing (from a comic, Keith is the one saying ‘isn’t that love’, and Lance is the other one)

Also some reaches because we love long arms:

[x] Rivals to friends to lovers foreshadowing lol

[x] Interesting... Funny coincidence?

[x] I know I know but honestly you can’t deny his face here

[x] I’ll also add this while I’m at it because I can 

(s7 spoiler ahead) Look this is just an interesting concept ok, but in episode 2 in s7 when they’re splitting up in that tunnel, Allura goes one way and Keith goes the other. We see Lance going last, slowing up and almost seeming to take a little time to choose, before going the way Keith went.

So uhh yeah here’s my grand, half-assed take on it. Season 7 can come bite my ass if it doesn’t happen, I’ll be on the lookout until the very last episode of season 8. Klance/laith may or may not happen. But I strongly believe it will and honestly that’s just what makes the most sense to me. 

But yeah reminder that ships doesn’t have to be canon for you to ship them, and if your ship becomes canon you should not harass others about it and you shouldn’t harass others if your ship doesn’t become canon either. All in all NO HARASSING. NO HATE. NO SHADE. JUST. BE DECENT. This includes to the creators and other people in the fandom both. 

Always be prepared for voltron to sock you in the stomach. Season 7 might very well do so. Season 8 might very well do so. Be prepared for your expectations and hopes and wishes to go completely out the window. But no matter how it goes, let’s just sit back and relax and enjoy the show as much as we can beyond our internal screaming.

In the end this is an intriguing story with aliens about family and being a team and it’s beautiful. So let’s just enjoy it, no matter what.

HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY

[tipsycad147]

7 Common Aura Problems

By The Alchemist

What is the Aura? Aura is the energy matrix that surrounds all living (and not only living) creatures. Particularly for humans, aura is something that many occultists and scientists tried to study. From Kirlian photos to scrying with crystals, all who take aura as a fact, attempted to analyse aura, or even detect possible aura problems. You see, aura is not just an energy field. But, also, a matrix of information, which can potentially be used to diagnose, or even predict information.

7 Common Aura Problems

In this article we will try to present you the most common Aura Problems and, of course, remind you how to overcome them. One of our favourite recipes we use is now available and is called ‘cleansing’ (and you get buy it here)!

1. Insufficient connection with the Divine

It is a very common problem, especially nowadays. As many people turn away from spirituality and religion, they forget a very important piece of information about themselves. They are part of something greater, something unique and magical. According to all ancient sources, we have the divine spark within. Thus, we are always in touch with the Great Spirit / God / Goddess.

Reason: Our energy is mainly replenished by the divine source. Additionally, we take energy from food / water and environment, whilst the earth supports and grounds us. When we neglect our divine source, we actually block the gate of divine energy intake. This makes our aura week. We feel disorientated, sad and uninspired.

Solution: What we have to do is re-establish the connection with the divine, by either praying, or spell-casting. Call upon your guardian Angel. Benzoin was believed to invite Angels and welcome them to stay around! You can always burn some Benzoin while calling upon your Guardian Angel.

2. Parasitic Cords

Over the time, we socialise and engage in different kinds of relationships. This actually helps humans, a lot, by learning important lessons throughout life’s experiences. The same lessons probably appear again and again until the message is clear and received. However, not all relationships are helpful.

Reason: There are times when we hang out, or even are closer to people who have lost their way. Temporarily or not, these people have lack of energy. This negative energy balance creates a ‘thirst’ or ‘craving’ of energy. To appease that, one needs to ‘connect’ with the victim. However, this is always a challenge for them, as we are gifted with several defence mechanisms. Therefore, these people try to develop a pathological relationship, with mood swings, in an effort to poison our hearts with guilt and pain. This creates a ‘sick bond’ or a parasitic cord, from which these people feast on our vital energy. What modern people call ‘toxic relationships’, witches call parasitic cords for centuries.

Solution: Cord cutting rituals are the best way to free yourself (spiritually and mentally) from these parasitic cords. Of course, when is needed, psychological assistance should be received, too. The toxic effect may be deep. You may need additional help. It was believed that Pure Frankincense can help you smite the dark energies that suck your spiritual energy. Additionally, peppermint is known to heal the auric wounds, after we cut off such bonds.

‘Cleansing’ is a handmade incense which combines the use of resins, powders and essential oils. Pure frankincense is melted in a ritual way and then, when the time is right, other resins, root and herbal powders along with essential oils are added in a delicate alchemical concoction. Every blend is created under specific alchemical instructions and planetary alignments. Thus, following the old recipes of dusty books of shadows we are ready to give you an alchemical concoction we loved. This is the Cleansing Incense.

3. Cracks in Aura’s Matrix

Aura has a thick – energy shield. This is a very effective defence mechanism we use against lower vibrations, curses and the dark arts. However, sometimes, this shield may crack.

Reason: These rips are usually created after a psychic attack. However, this attack may be psychic in nature, but it can occur in the material plane, in a form of quarrel drenched with psychological weapons. Pain and sorrow create a weakness and this psychic attacks can actually penetrate our shield and eventually crack it. This creates a scar, which opens the door to future attacks.

Solution: Fortify your aura with love and light. One healing word you can use is ‘Ra(m)’. This is the sound of Fire (and light) which can be mastered to feed and shield your aura once again. Sandalwood was used by Witches since the ancient times to help in healing the cracks in one’s aura. Additionally we would propose Palo Santo.

4. Watchers

We’ve never tried to hide it. Magic is not always good. In Witchcraft and Arcane arts, there are things we love and things we despise. Thus, some practitioners prefer to spy upon their victims, prior dark spell casting. Therefore, they love to create “the Watchers”. Some of us may have them on our aura.

Reason: Watchers are intelligent remnants of Spiritual attack, forced to feed on the target’s aura, while simultaneously reporting for everything the target does, or thinks. Therefore, this is one of the darkest forms of Witchcraft. Have you ever felt that someone is always watching you? Knowing what you do? Spying on you? Creating a Watcher is very popular amongst the dark arts.

Solution: As this is actually not an entity but a part of another’s entity, one needs to exorcise it out of their aura. To do that, Witches used to burn Dragon’s Blood, one of the most potent magical materials ever found, according to the old books of Shadows. Usually, Witches burned Dragon’s Blood alone, or mixed with bay laurel leaves, clove buds and a dash of red cayenne pepper (do not exaggerate with the cayenne pepper).

5. Chakra Blocks

In our bodies, there are several mechanisms that help the divine energy flow through us. The most well known mechanisms are the Chakras – wheels that help the energy flow. There are seven major chakras, but many more secondary ones exist all over our body.

Reason: For many reasons, these chakras may be blocked or severely poisoned by our feelings, traumas and other reasons. Unfortunately, this may bring out many problems. We have actually created a specific article for this issue. You may want to check it, here!

Solution: Witches during their training, were taught that they  should periodically cleanse the chakras and help the energy flow! This is not always easy. However, they did believe that there are some recipes that can help them in this issue. Myrrh and Palo Santo (the holy Wood), were amongst the most beloved ingredients for unblocking the chakras.

6. Energy Debris

Our aura is a unique and intelligent matrix of energy. Important information comes and goes. Moreover, this intelligent matrix is not static, for it reacts with anything around. Some times, bad things happen, and the aura reacts by producing defensive energy.

Reason: Aura, can help us deflect a psychic attack. Some times, information is stored from a previous attack, in order to understand what happened and know how to deal with it in the future. This is called ‘energy debris’. It is not ‘bad energy’ is it just the memory stored in astral energy inside our aura. However, this energy might make us feel stagnant and ‘heavy’. This lack of fresh spiritual energy may actually be caused by this debris. We need to periodically abolish it.  

Solution: To do so, we need first to meditate and understand the nature of this debris. What caused it? Later, witches used to burn dried agrimony, in order to repel all stagnant and malevolent energy, stuck in our aura.

7. Insufficient Grounding

It’s no secret that as we interact with this plane, we engage in overwhelming activities. This is why, we are often flooded by excessive energy. Although this excessive energy is part of a defence mechanism, we should always balance this energy.

Reason: As this energy may cause several imbalances in our chakras and aura, we need to abolish it regularly. This is why grounding is needed. Grounding is a technique which is used by all witches, especially after a ritual, or an overwhelming experience.

Solution: To do so, a witch might employ some herbs and resins to create and multiply the effects. Patchouli has been used extensively for this matter. Furthermore, witches have used Patchouli for smudging to call upon spirits of healing, and help them ground. It was considered to aid in meditation and was has been used in all procedures which need mental and spiritual clarity.

https://www.magicalrecipesonline.com/2019/10/7-common-aura-problems.html

[ayearofpike]

Remember Me 2: The Return

Pocket Books, 1994 210 pages, 16 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-87265-6 LOC: unknown (catalog down as I wrote this) OCLC: 30986560 Released September 1, 1994 (per B&N)

Shari Cooper, having passed into the light after her untimely death, is learning to be one with the universe and accept it with love and grace. It makes her a perfect candidate to return to the realm of the living — only she’s not going to have such an easy, pampered life. Rather, she’ll have to take on the life and struggles of a downtrodden minority who has given up, and work to improve the lot of everyone in her circle.

So here’s the one that Pike said he should have refused, that the publisher talked him into a sequel but in retrospect it damaged the story. But ... I don’t hate it? I know, that last entry was super vitriolic and angry about sequels and Pike’s slide into essentially irrelevance. Still, I was surprised that this book is not totally horrible — save one major racial problem that we’ll get to.

One thing that definitely annoys me about this book: the new die-cut covers. When I picked this one up at the store, I thought it was the awesomest thing: extra-spooky typeface that shows the art THROUGH it rather than just a generic script along the margins? But then I got the next one and stuck it on the bookshelf by this one, and the back cover caught the fingers of the E and PFFFTT. It took them a couple years to catch on and just print it, which, while a kludge, is preferable to the six or however many torn ones I have.

But narrative-construction-wise (as opposed to physical-construction-wise) the book actually holds up. Pike alternates between the first-person consciousness of Shari and the third-person observation of Jean Rodrigues, a poor and unmotivated but hot Latina living in the projects in Los Angeles. It’s not really a spoiler to say that Shari ends up taking over Jean’s body, and the realization marks a nice in-time shift in descriptive perspective as she suddenly understands that “she” is “I.”

So how the hell am I going to summarize this, considering the construction and flipping between astral plane and physical realm is what makes this book work? I guess you’re just going to have to trust me, and read it if you want. I’m going to punch through the world beyond the light first and then come back to Jean, even though it’s her who opens the novel.

We know Shari’s dead, and we know she planned to go into the light at the close of events of the last novel. Our first encounter with her here has her talking with a more-enlightened being, who acts as a teacher and a guide to help Shari understand that the love she gave and the services she rendered are the more important elements of her life, beyond the expensive house and the indulgent parents and the fucking Ferrari. As she starts to get it, he suggests that she should become a Wanderer — a soul that takes over a living body rather than being reborn from the beginning and works to make things better. She’s interested, but she also wants to talk to Peter before she goes back.

Yeah, remember Peter? Well, I never said his name in the first summary —  the spirit guide who loved her in life. He was able to get through too. He overcame his fear that he wasn’t good enough, and now he’s on the eternal plane with Shari. They construct the prom that they never went to, but just before they can get it on in the hotel room afterwards Peter lets his body get ripped open by the alien xenomorph that he decides to turn into as a joke. I have to admit it’s funny, but it highlights what Peter might still be afraid of: love, intimacy, getting too close, not being good enough still. So instead of boning, they explore the stars, and there’s some metaphysical shit about a black hole and how everything is interconnected that makes Shari realize she’s ready to be alive again and start making a difference.

Of course Peter wants to go too, but the fact that he killed himself is going to be an obstacle. These fears that he can’t quite release, and the circumstances of his death, mean that he’ll be resurrected into a body that is less than whole. Peter’s willing to take the hit, and the teacher accepts because he senses Peter’s love is pure. Also, the teacher lets them know that they’ll need some kind of a shock to the system in order to remember what they know about the cosmos, but even if they don’t they’ll still know they have some kind of higher purpose.

So now I’ve gotta jump all the way back to the beginning and talk about Jean. We get more male-gazey description of this hot brown mamacita, but I wasn’t quite as grossed out this time because her looks are the only thing Jean likes about herself. She’s down on her prospects, down on school, down on her family and what her life might turn into — because she’s pregnant with her boyfriend’s kid at 18. And tonight is his birthday party, and she’s going to tell him.

The birthday boy is Lenny Mandez, a gang dropout who finished high school at 20 and is trying to get clean but still has too many connections. He lives in a ramshackle house on a hill surrounded by oil wells, dirty but good enough to get wasted at. And I don’t really like the fact that the first time we have a whole cast of Latinxs they’re gang-bangers and dopeheads and dropouts — but the picture is real. I had plenty of friends and coworkers as a young food service employee in the Southwest who felt like this was their ceiling, this was all they could get, this was all they should aspire to. Which is part of why this story starts to piss me off later, but we’ll get to that.

So Jean tells Lenny about the baby, he’s less than thrilled, but then there’s a meeting. Kind of parallel to what happened in the first book, only with fewer people. It seems that a friend just got gunned down in a drive-by, and his girl wants revenge. She and Lenny are planning everything out, Jean’s best friend (who is a lesbian but again, don’t be squicked out, kids in 1994, because she totally doesn’t hit on Jean or anything!) doesn’t want to get involved, and Jean really doesn’t want them to pursue this. Why do they drive themselves down, Jean asks? Why can’t they aspire to anything better? Nobody’s hearing it, so she goes out on the balcony (because, sure, there’s a balcony in a two-bedroom house in the projects) to pray for help and understanding.

And the thing collapses out from under her.

She wakes up in the hospital three days later, with a concussion and several broken bones. Her mom is there and just breaks down out of happiness, because there was no sign that she would ever wake up until just a little bit before she did. She had a miscarriage too, which ... is sort of glossed over and forgotten quickly. But Lenny was on the balcony too, and he broke his back, severed the spinal cord and will probably never walk again, and now he just wants to die.

See, maybe I gave away too much too soon by breaking the story down the way I did.

But anyway, Jean suddenly feels less selfish and more giving, and she wants to help. She starts volunteering in the hospital as soon as she’s well enough, and has crazy ideas for stories about aliens and monsters and things. (Because evidently the best way to give your family and community a leg up is to become a horror and sci-fi writer. Getting less and less sly as we go along, Pike.) One of her patients (who is dying of leukemia, because everything old is new again) actually inspires her first short story, a tale of a successful writer whose muse wants in on the action and starts blackmailing her, which includes this frustrating little nugget.

But Jean isn’t satisfied just being her new self. Something is drawing her away from the hood and out to the rich developments. She takes a bus to Huntington Beach and walks with no goal in mind until she finds a bloodstain on the concrete by a condo. The property manager assumes she’s a friend of the poor girl who fell to her death the previous year and helps her find the family house, which of course she goes straight to and finds Shari’s brother moving out. She gets him to let her help in exchange for a ride home, and after reading the short story at the grave of her patient she feels compelled to go see him right away.

He lets her in and they immediately start talking about the dead sister. They’re both unnerved, but they keep going because something compels them. In fact, the brother reveals that he has a file on his computer that he’s never shared with anyone — a story written while he was sleepwalking that tells about his sister’s death and the events around it. Jean starts reading it, but she doesn’t have to finish because of course she wrote it. She is Shari. Shari is her. Shari has taken over Jean’s body in light of her prayer for help.

And this right here is where I get pissed. Like, Pike has constructed the realistically untenable situation of undereducated Latinxs in America. He’s written it with ... well, if not tenderness and understanding, then at least care and consideration. And he’s got a protagonist who wants to help her family and her community rise up and get out of the problematic cycle. BUT THEN. As soon as Jean Rodrigues realizes she’s Shari Cooper, the whole fuckin’ community goes out the window and Shari takes over and wants to try to reconstruct her old life. I mean, yeah, she gives some lip service to where she came from, but right away she’s like, yeah, let’s see my birth mom, let’s get my old best friend in here, let’s find the detective who cracked the case. 

More than that: we’re getting a white savior story. Yes, this was many years before we understood the problems endemic to this trope, but still, that’s what it is. It requires the soul of a white girl going into the body of a Latina for her to want to start improving herself and her situation. It didn’t bother me then, because hey actual brown people in YA lit, take what I can get. But now? It bugs the fuckin’ shit out of me.

But Shari/Jean does actually still care about Lenny. Knowing she’s Shari, she’s surprised by the depth of feeling she has for him. (I mean, we’re not, because I gave away the reveal already.) What’s more, she still wants him to live a meaningful life beyond vengeance. Word is he’s gotten out of the hospital and out of rehab, and is mobile in a wheelchair, and is tracking down a gun. Shari/Jean knows what that means, and she goes to collect him and get him out of the projects to meet her new/old brother. 

Lenny is surprisingly amenable to going with her — but only because it’s Jean that he’s going after the whole time, and now he’ll have ample opportunity to kill her away from where people know her and will suspect. See, he knows that he used protection every time they had sex, so he knows he can’t be the father of the (now-non) baby, and so she must have cheated on him. In fact, he figured it was his best friend, based on their prior relationship, and so he got the dude into the rival turf so that he’d be a target. And now he’s going to end Jean, who doesn’t love him and never did, and save a bullet for himself.

Lenny doesn’t see the parallels to the end of Peter’s life, because he never reads. (He says so himself.) But Shari/Jean does. She does her best to try to talk him out of his actions, but still ends up hanging from another goddamn balcony as he shoots at her fingers. It’s only as she’s slipping away, millimeters from death, that Peter wakes up and realizes who he is.

It’s too late to grab her hand, and Shari/Jean falls. Lucky for her, there’s a pool under this balcony, and she lands in the deep end. (Her best friend makes a joke out of it, actually, which did get a chuckle from me.) And then, just as everybody knows who they are and where they’re from and what they’re supposed to do: we get another goddamn “to be continued.”

I really don’t like ongoing sagas. Not sure what it is, but I have increasingly lost patience with them as I get older. (I think this is part of why I had such an angry reaction to The Last Vampire.) So the idea that I have to wait for another book to get the rest of the story bugs me, even though a) I have it on the shelf and don’t technically have to wait and b) this resurrection story hangs together OK. As I recall, the “white savior” and “forgetting where you come from” elements are even worse in the third book — as in, I’ll stop calling her Jean or even Shari/Jean, because she’s just Shari. Still, this one wasn’t as painful as I expected it to be, especially reading it for the first time in, I don’t know, 20 years after so many Pike Facebook posts regretting it.