#(long coats or robes. this is why i have to start him as a sorcerer and then get withers to swap the class order. so he gets the robe)

[crossdressingdeath]

Anyway I've decided that Kyvir must always be in long coats. The vibes are exquisite. Love me a gorgeous fucker in a long coat.

[mrskurono]

title: Baby Fever a/n: ok you know what I’ll admit it, all I’ve been thinking about lately is Geto. He’s on my mind constantly. Should I be working on something else, yes. Is Geto the first jjk character I really had a crush on, maybe. I just....fucking Geto ok this has taken me four times to right jfc word count: 1.7k tags: no sub/dom dynamics, romantic sex, established relationship, manga spoilers, fingering, multiple female orgasms (not overstim though) breeding kink, needy Geto, creampie, unprotected sex, pregnancy mention, body worship, really just soft sex ok, unedited character(s): Geto Suguru (jjk)

They had grown. 

Both girls that was. 

Into wonderful adolescences that brought a set of different challenges. Geto was ready for that be it blindly. And he loved every part of it times two. Each time he looked at either of the kids though he could vividly remembered rounder cheeks, rosier faces and goofier smiles. It left him reminiscing over that more and more now.

You noticed it in the most subtle ways. Geto wanting more. More of those days even though he wouldn’t outright ask.

A trace of his fingers along your collar bone drew you away from what was in your lap. For the most part you’d ignored him once he came to bed but it grew almost impossible when the sorcerer had his lips pressed to the conjunction of your head and neck while a light touch traced down your chest. Not irritated in the slightly, you still give a playful sigh as you put your book down.

“Can I help you?” You can’t even turn your head to see him. Geto’s face is pressed to you with a trail of peppered kisses following suit.

With a firm grip he slipped his fingers against your thigh to give it a playful squeeze. Geto pulled out of the crook of your neck enough to finally look at you with that off brand smirk of his, “Mayhaps.”

You grin just to lean down and catch his lips on yours. Instead though you pull away just as he was going to lean into you. Earning your own smirk to play on your lips, “Mayhaps if you ask nicely Mr. Suguru.”

The hand on your thigh tightened. Pulling you towards him in a meager attempt but for the most part you stayed rooted where you were. Only slightly letting your legs fall open as your smirk grew into a full blown smile. He was awfully soft for a man on the run orchestrating a death cult. 

Geto slipped his fingers up along the crotch of your bottoms. Nudging his forehead against yours like he’d done every night this week. An eye roll that held no merit you grab his face and kiss him deeply. There isn’t a second in hesitation as you lean into him. Geto’s fingers moving up to help you wiggle out of your bottoms. A similar scene playing out just like the previous nights but you didn’t mind in the slightest with his attention fully on you.

“You’re so wet.” He commented against your lips the second his index finger dipped between your folds.

“And you’re already hard.” You toss back to him when your palm presses up against the stark hardness hidden under his robes, “Why don’t we help each other out?”

A nod and he didn’t stop to push back into the kiss. Geto hovering above you but it was your teeth nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Leaving the man to groan as his fingertips danced on either side of your clit. Your hips coming up to join in the motion of his fingers rubbing against you. Only for a few moments though because once they were soaked enough Geto couldn’t keep them from slipping inside you.

“Fuck...you’re so needy,” You moan against Geto’s lips as he curls his fingers in on you. He wouldn’t hesitate to make you cum like this before the main event even started.

Lips back to your neck, Geto hummed something but then nodded and mumbled against the softness of your ear, “I need you.”

Reaching down to grip his forearm as Geto’s fingering picked up in it’s urgency. You regretted the moan when his fingertips brushed over your g-spot. Within seconds he was back at it. Not leaving your sensitive spot alone as your cunt twitched and tightened around him with the impending orgasm. He was gonna get one from you with not much more than a snide remark on your part.

“F-Fuck...” Lip taut with tension as you bit down, fighting it wasn’t in your best interest, “S-Suguru- I- I’m gonna-”

“Cum-” His voice almost desperate, hot breath against your neck, fingers not letting up on their assault, “Please cum- Please I need you to cum- Please-”

The want in his voice too much. Just the way he wouldn’t stop after your orgasm tipped itself over. Fingers pulling a toe curling orgasm out of you as you clutched onto his robes and felt every fiber in your body tingle with hopelessness for him.

Fingers slowing, Geto simply wiggling them around in you and feeling the slickness covering his knuckles. It was when you snagged him for a long drawn out lazy kiss. Just to follow it by an order that he get undressed already, meant the man had no choice but to listen.

Rid of his clothes and between your legs before you knew it. You look down to see him swiping his cock up through the drool of your cunt. What wasn’t on his fingers previously now coated his cock with a beautiful glisten. Geto more than enthralled seeing his cock slip between your cunt lips. Each movement of his length grinding into your sensitive nub sent a shiver up your spine. Either he was too into watching or he was teasing you. A few more swipes and you demand he get on with the main course already.

One push and Geto’s cock slipped down to the hilt with ease. Stretched thoroughly from the nightly fucking all week. Today was no different. Juices squelching around his cock Geto pushed himself down to his base. Feeling his cock bottom out in you no problem. Leaving the man to hover over you. Caged in by both his arms on either side of you. And his hair tickling your face when you looked up at him.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re handsome.”

Geto stalled a moment. Savoring the way his hips felt snug in yours. The residual feeling of your walls twitching around him. Not a day would go by where he didn’t swear you were made for him. 

“I love you.” His words clear and concise. You looked up at Geto once more.

What smirk you had early softened into a smile. Bringing his face down to yours for a kiss, “I love you t- fuck-” Before he let you finish Geto grinned against your lips and thrusted into you without warning. Just to watch you convulse and loose yourself on his cock. Just as beautiful as ever. He felt himself unable to control himself all over again.

Each snap of his hips into your core left you breathless. He wasn’t rough. Never was he rough. Geto’s cock curved in the right way that left you rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Even if it felt like he was going to split you in half, you still wanted more.

Orgasm or not Geto was bringing you right back to the edge. He always did. As you showered his face in breathless kisses. Some of those met with his own lips. Others spared on his neck and collar bone as you watched with a dazed look at where your bodies met. Geto buried inside you with each thrust. His hands hooked into your hips with your legs slightly elevated so he could defile your deepest parts. Every night this week he’d fuck you like this. In the drunken pleasurer of it all you might have thought he was trying to breed you.

“Please-” Geto’s voice peeled you away, “Please cum-”

Thinking he wanted you to cum on him again you half ass nod, “Yes- Fuck yes I’ll-”

“No-” He groaned more of a gasp. Geto putting his forehead against yours even with the dew accumulating on it, “Please- Please can I cum- Cum in you- I just-”

More than surprised. Of course he’d done so more than once before. Now he was asking you? 

“Love why ask just-”

“I want another baby-” Geto broke your question up, his hips still a mind of their own. His breath ragged against your lips and sweat making his hair cling to him, “With you- Another one- Just one- Let me fill you up- Let me fuck a baby in you- Please- I- I love you so much and-”

“Yes.”

Geto’s turn to be surprised.

“Yes please, god fuck yes- Fuck a baby inside me-” You grab Geto’s face. Caring less if you cum at this point and more for the warmth of his release. Lips smashing onto his you don’t hesitate to moan into the fevered kiss.

Geto pulling you down on him with each thrust. Driving his cock in you as deep as he could. Quicker than before like he was desperate for it. Even while your legs twitched and curled, knowing he was breeding in you, something snapped in you.

The way you can on him. Scream only muffled by the fact Geto wouldn’t move his lips from yours. Each rippling twitch of your cunt around him was maddening. Hearing and feeling you craving him sent him into a tizzy until it was simply too late. With the way he snapped his hips into. A rumbling moan emanating up from his chest. It was far too obvious when the first gush of warmth overwhelmed you.

Full well past just what oozed out of you. The mixture of cum and juices soaked the two of you as Geto’s arms waivered a little. A moment of uncertainty if he was going to pull out and waste the gift he just gave you. Instead you yank him down on you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and loosely with your legs around his hips. Making it very obvious he was to stay in place on and in you.

Hand drawn down his back you ignore the sweat between his shoulder blades. Instead engrossed in the feeling of Geto’s cock still inside you and the heat of his chest against yours. Sighing softly to lay a kiss against his cheek you hug him a little tighter, “...you could have just said something you know.”

Exhausted and without a real witty reply. Geto had been saving this all week and now he was a little spent. Mumbling something but you didn’t hear.

The idea of being pregnant, with his child, making you smile more and more with each passing second. Even as cum dripped out of you. It was right away that you kissed the side of his head, “Looks like we gotta keep trying until you succeed huh.”

No question to it there was a twitch of excitement in all of his body. You knew neither of you would be happy now until Geto got what he asked for.

[random-writer-4884]

What Wasn't Said (Doctor Strange X Depressed Reader

What Wasn't Said

Doctor Strange X Depressed Reader

Description: When you came to Kamar-Taj, you were struggling with your mental health. It wasn't until you fell in love with Stephen Strange that you truly found your miracle. However, one day when he came home from a mission, he forgot what to say.

Warnings: Serious mentions of suicide and depression, mention of attempts via cutting, overdose and bullet. Implied past self harm, mention of mental hospital.

Story under the cut (it starts very strong)

Stephen Strange was no stranger to mental health. He worked in a hospital for years. He had sewn up slit wrists, cleared people’s systems of overdoses, and even removed a bullet. He thought he knew everything about mental health until he lost the proper use of his hands.

Without his hands, he lost his sense of purpose. That was the moment he truly understood why so many people did what they did, and why so many of them were angry with him. 

He was one of the lucky ones, so set on fixing himself he never spiraled. And once he got to Kamar-Taj, he was so busy he stopped focusing on it all together. Finally he became sorcerer supreme and he had a purpose again. 

That was when he found you. You had come to Kamar-Taj not long after him and read just as much. Fought even harder when you didn’t have a weapon. But every time someone wanted to work with you or help you improve more you refused. Like you were only there to entertain yourself. You're actual work was sloppy. When fighting with weapons you often ended up hurting yourself, letting your weapons slip from your hand or recoil and hit you.

Stephen liked you, the way your eyes glistened when you were interested in something, the gentleness of your voice. So after a few months, once things were fully repaired and his duties started to ease, he asked you to go on a date. It was wonderful, quite simple since Sorcerer's don't exactly have an income, but it was nice. 

Over the next months the two of you fell more and more in love. There would be times when Stephen would be gone for days at a time, dealing with mystic threats and it was hard, but he always came back. Even when he returned bruised and bloodied and exhausted, he would always come up to you and give you a hug and kiss. 

Of course, nothing exactly stays perfect. You never told Stephen why you came to Kamar-Taj. Your mental health had been trashed. You had been hospitalized too many times. You had to figure out something so you followed rumors of healing across the world. 

It never really helped, but it was certainly entertaining. It became a wonderful distraction from your brain. Endless books to read about the past, and magic that was bright and colorful to keep your eyes away from a knife. 

And then, you met Stephen Strange. Handsome and gentle, although a bit cocky. If there was such a thing as mystic healing it was him. He would tend to be gone on missions, protecting the universe, but now he had been gone for weeks, and you didn’t know what to do. You wondered if he had died on this mission. 

When he finally came home, he was disheveled. Dirt and blood was coating him, his robes were ripped and tattered. His perfectly kept hair was thrown in every direction and his beard was unkempt and growing in where he always kept it shaved. 

You ran to him and cupped his face, he gently grabbed your hands and gave a soft smile. “I need a shower, I'll be back. I promise.” And with that he walked away. 

After he was out of sight the cloak unclipped from him and flew over to you, very slowly. It gently clasped itself onto you and wrapped around you in a hug. You gently held it before it flew over to a chair and collapsed into it. Apparently a sentient cloak could be worn out. 

While Stephen was in the shower, your brain began to wander. No matter how tired he had ever been after a mission he had always greeted you the same. He never ran off to the shower before telling you he loved you. With your mind racing, you sat down on the bed. Wrapping yourself up with the covers. 

After around twenty minutes Stephen walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of pajama pants and carrying the tatters of his outfit. He set them down on the table before looking around to find you. Eventually he made his way to the bedroom, where he found you wrapped up in the sheets, staring down into space. 

“Y/N? What's wrong darling?” Slowly Stephen walked over to the bed and sat down next to you. He reached his hand to your head and gently stroked your hair. His hands shook while they did it but it was comforting nonetheless.  

You turned your head to look towards him, but did meet his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?” Steohen looked at you with puzzlement and concern.

“No darling! What makes you think you did something wrong?” He moved his hand from your hair to gently cup your face. 

You leaned into his touch. “Well, I just thought that maybe I did.” You started mumbling “You didn’t say you loved me, and maybe i made a mistake.” 

Stephen couldn’t fully understand what you said, but he understood well enough. “Oh, Y/N, you haven't made a single mistake. I meant to tell you I love you, it was such a long mission, and I needed a shower.” He pulled you into his chest for a hug. 

“You, my darling, are the most wonderful and amazing person I could have ever asked for. I’m sorry I made you feel like you're not.” 

After hugging you close for a few minutes he gently pulled away from the hug. “How about tomorrow, you and I go and get some ice cream? It's been a while since we've gotten some, and I know just how much you like getting to pick it out.” He smiled and gave you a gentle kiss. 

You nodded and smiled, and the two of you went to bed. After Stephen’s long mission he needed the rest, and you certainly wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to snuggle. 

Stephen Strange was no stranger to mental health. He worked in a hospital for years, and even struggled with it himself. He had seen the pain in your eyes when he first met you and was happy to watch it fade away. He knew what was happening when he looked in your eyes, and while he couldn’t take away that pain, he could at least distract you from it enough to help you heal yourself.

[quartzwriting]

Attack in The Library

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: Stephen sends you to Kamar Taj to get some books, but some invaders attack you. Stephen comes to the rescue, and he’s not happy.

Warnings: Fighting and violence

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev  // School has be busy so one shots that are already on my quotev will be reposted here, all requests on hold for now sorry // Originally requested by Coppercat615 on quotev <3

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

You had just finished a meditation and astral projection practice session on the Sanctum rooftop. The background noise of the frantic and angry city below sometimes helped you focus. It was just what you needed today. Feeling relaxed, accomplished, and satisfied, you went back inside to see what Stephen was up to. It was getting close to noon, and maybe you could pull him away from his studies for a little to grab lunch together.

Stephen was standing over his desk in his office, a few books open before him and his eyes darting from one to the next. He looked deep in thought and you almost did not want to bother him. The Sorcerer Supreme in his natural habitat, it was like there was naturally a 'do not disturb' sign plastered onto him. You did anyways.

"Hey Stephen, I finished my practice."

"How did it go?" He did not even look up from his books.

"Pretty good!" You walked up to the desk and rested your hands on it, trying to see what he was looking at even though it was upside down for you. "Looking for something?"

He shrugged and flipped one of the books around so you could see it the right way up. The book was old and small, the wear and tear from over the years showing through its pages. There was writings in characters you did not understand scribbled across the page, directions for a spell you assumed. He then showed you another book that had the same letters translated to English, but there were so many variations of each and it looked hard to decipher.

"I've been trying to decode this spell. This is the only instance of it in writing. The Ancient One left it behind but I cannot seem to understand it." There was a frustration in his voice and you could tell from his messy hair that he had been running his hands through it in said frustration.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." You handed him back the books.

"Hey (Y/N), can you do me a big favor?"

Curiosity struck you, "What is it?"

"Can you head over to the Kamar Taj library and find these books for me."

Stephen handed you a list on a piece of paper. Titles and authors were listed in his slightly messy handwriting. You counted six books.

"Why can't you go get them yourself?"

"I'm busy."

He did have those books in front of him, certainly looking busy. But he could go over there himself and it would only take about ten minutes. It felt like an excuse to you.

You gave him a look, before growling under your breath, "Fine. I'll get you your books..."

Raising up your hand that had your sling ring, you started to conjure up a portal before Stephen interrupted you.

"No, take the door."

"Seriously?"

"You can't rely on magic for everything, (Y/N)."

"Well that door is magic too, you idiot. What do you want me to do? Jump on the next flight to Nepul?"

"Just stop complaining and go take the door."

You rolled your eyes and stomped off down the hallway and towards the door that connected the Sanctum to the two others and Kamar Taj. He did that all the time, scolding you for using magic for minor conveniences. Whether it be you quickly grabbing something from across the Sanctum with a portal or teleporting to the other side of the room for split second. The thing is was that he did it sometimes. When you pointed it out he just told you to shut up. Typical.

Walking through the door that lead directly to Kamar Taj, you entered the library and found just how like a library should be: calm and silent. It was nighttime in Kathmandu so the lack of people in the place did not surprise you. But when you walked past a few shelves, you saw Wong with a stack of books in his arms.

"Hey Wong." You said cheerily, coming up beside him to look on the same shelf he was organizing the books onto.

He bowed his head, "Master (L/N)."

Your mouth formed a tight line for a split second, "How many times have I told you to just call me (Y/N)?"

"Well it is out of respect," He replied, and you shrugged a little in understanding, "But on your word, (Y/N)."

You smiled and went back to looking for one of the books on the shelf. It had some weird and long title, you scanned the book spines for it.

It still felt a little weird when others would call you that, Master (L/N). It came with the feeling that you were in a high position. You kind of were, being taught personally by the Sorcerer Supreme himself. Not to mention being his girlfriend. The people around Kamar Taj and the other sanctums treated you with a lot of respect. Sometimes you did not feel like you deserved it, you still felt like you and being a master of the mystic arts did not change that.

You shook the thought away from your head as you found yourself not even reading the titles. You went back over while Wong moved to the other side of the library to keep working. Then you found it, it was a bigger book. When you took it off the shelf the weight of it dug into your hands. This made you hope the others were smaller, otherwise you would be taking a big stack of heavy books back home. That could be dangerous due to your sometimes clumsy nature.

Opening it to a random page, it was full of runes with descriptions of their spells. You feathered through more pages and they were like that, covered in artworks of detailed images of runes. Then you remembered that Stephen was working on a lot of rune magic recently so it made sense. You closed the book and tucked it against your chest as you moved to another shelf to keep on looking.

While you were reading the little list of books, there was a sudden sound. It was soft. It was very familiar. It was the sound of a slingring portal opening. You turned around, looking towards where the sound came from. From in between the shelves and the tops of books, you saw a figure and the sparks from a portal. You did not recognize the figure, but on a closer look it was a man with black and red robes. For some reason the sight of him was slightly unsettling.

What happened next confirmed your suspicions.

He walked right up behind Wong. Just as Wong turned around at the sound of heavy footsteps, the sorcerer made a fast motion with his hands that made sparks explode from his fists. The energy shot into Wong and he was soon on the floor.

You quickly ducked behind a bookshelf, tucking the book you held tightly against your chest. That came out of nowhere and you assumed it was an attack. Wong was now unconscious and no one else was around. At this hour not many sorcerers were up and about around Kamar Taj. So you guessed it was up to you to stop it.

There were two more portals opened, and the first man instructed someone to look for 'it'. The 'it' they were referring to was probably a book, what else would they raid a library for? It could be any one in this whole library, so you needed to do something before they found what they were looking for.

Sneaking in between the shelves, you tried to think of a plan of action. The adrenaline was already pumping and your heart racing. This kind of distracted you from the planning, but you managed to think of something.

You heard someone nearby tossing books off the shelves, ones that were not what they needed. You slowly made your way closer, your boots against the floorboards not making a sound. Carefully, you summoned energy to create a whip, hoping that the sound of the sparks would not give you away. You threw your magic, the rope wrapping around the sorcerer's ankle and you pulled it back. The man fell to the floor and you cracked the whip on top of him to keep him down.

Before you could land another strike, something from behind grabbed your hand as it was raised up. While turning your head to see what happened, you were struck with a very powerful punch. It send you right down to the ground, the book skidding across the floor as it was knocked from your hands. You scrambled to get rid of your dazed vision and to grab the book again. When you felt the hard cover and clutched it to you chest, three figures were standing over you.

"We're going to need that."

You looked down at the book that you were clenching to your chest, the thick volume was one of the books that Stephen wanted you to bring back. Of course it had to be the exact book you were holding. From the looks of the group, and what they had did to Wong, you knew you could not let them get their hands on this book.

Looking him right in the eyes you said a calm but stern "No." Your eyes were full of seriousness and daring, but inside you knew you were insecure. You were scared.

"We thought we did not need to hurt anyone today." The woman with a thick accent peered at you, a glint in her eyes that you did not like.

You would not stand down though.

Thinking quickly, you cast a teleportation spell and hid yourself among the maze of shelves. From across the library you heard the three separate to search for you. You were still dizzy from that punch, knowing there was going to be a mark on your face later. You teleported again, hoping to get away from them.

Big mistake.

You accidentally appeared right in the sight of one of them. He warned the others and started running towards you. You were in the middle of summoning a spell to protect yourself when from in between the bookshelves the woman slid right past you and struck you in the leg. Soon there was a sting running down your leg and something hot started to coat the leggings you wore underneath your robes. You let out a cry and collapsed onto the ground. Feeling a boot kick itself into the back of your head, you seethed with pain and blurry vision.

"Well that was easy." One of them said going to pick up the book you had dropping in the impact.

"This one is weak, convenient for our mission."

There was another kick that went through you, this time to your stomach. Then again. And again. It felt like the air from your lungs was being forced out, being unable to breathe. Your head was ringing, your leg burning, and your very existence aching.

And they were laughing while it was all happening.

"Make one more move and I'll kill you where you stand."

The deep voice came suddenly, purring the threat out to the attackers.

The hits instantly stopped. You leaned on your elbow to prop yourself up, struggling against the weakness that had over come you. Looking up at Stephen as your vision was starting to become clear again, you saw a darkness in his eyes. This said that all hell was about to break loose.

He used the word 'kill'. Stephen would not kill anyone. Whenever he fought, he did it without the intention of harming his opponent. That was probably one of the doctor qualities he kept, swearing not to hurt anyone.

But this darkness you could see in him. It was unsettling. You felt a chill go about the room. You knew it had nothing to do with temperature.

The gang looked taken aback from his sudden appearance and froze in place, he must have teleported in. The expressions that washed over their faces told you that they recognized him. They were being threatened by the Sorcerer Supreme, his cloak flaring out to make him look bigger and a death glare staring them down.

"How dare you touch her."

The attackers broke out into a run, but Stephen was right on their heels.

You tried to crawl over to a bookshelf to lean against for support, but it took a while since the pain was so strong. You started to grow dizzy again from moving, your breath heaving in your chest. With your vision all fuzzy and body refusing to cooperate, all you could do was listen.

What you heard was brutal.

There were sounds of magic, struggle, heavy breathing, grunts, cries of pain. Also you might have heard the snap of a broken bone, which made your skin crawl a little. Stephen sounded mad. Very mad. What you realized that there was less sounds of magic, but more sounds of physical fighting. You could only imagine what was happening. It scared you a little. When Stephen got angry it was usually bad, but you have never seen (heard) anything like this. The fight continued out if your sight until the sounds stopped. You did not know if your attackers had escaped, been subdued, been knocked out...or worse...but you had no way to tell. You did not know if you wanted to ask him later either.

Stephen snapped back out of his fury-filled state, it being quickly replaced by concern and anxiety. There you were on the other side of the library, leaning on a bookcase and clutching at your leg. He noticed the trail of blood smeared on the ground from where you were pulling yourself across the ground, a deep red soaking your robes. Retaliation hit him that you were stabbed.

He rushed over to you. Kneeling down over your figure, his eyes darting everywhere in concern, he took you in his arms. "It's alright, you're okay."

"Stephen, it hurts..." You tried to say, but it came out as a quiet breath.

"I know." You were surprised he heard you. "Don't worry I'm right here."

He had to act quickly. What he needed to do was get you somewhere safe, clean your wound and stitch it up, and lay you down just encase you had a concussion. The weakness in your body and the pained look on your face made him want to let out more rage, but also hold you close until you were better.

"Okay," He took a breath and recollected himself. "I'm going to take you home. I'm going to lift you up. This is going to hurt. Deep breath for me." He reached around your body, one hand under your knees and the other supporting your back. He counted down so you could brace yourself for the jolt of pain he knew would hit you as soon as you moved. On one, Stephen lifted you up in a controlled motion, his muscles aching a little from fighting the attackers. You let out a cry as soon as the pain came and clung onto his neck and shoulders, you needed him there through it.  

You desperately held on, wishing it was over the entire way. Stephen would have used a portal to get you home faster but his hands needed to carry you. He carried you through the door and you were back in New York in no time. But for you the pain made it feel like a lifetime. He brought you to the bedroom which was close by. As carefully as he could, he put you down on top of the covers. The pain slowed to a quiet beat as you began to relax.

Stephen rushed out of the room to go find a first aid kit. Once he found one, hidden in the back of a closet in the hallway outside, he came back right by your side and started to rummage through the box. As he was doing so, he came to the realization that this was gonna be difficult. His hands. His hands shake more when he was panicking. And in that moment they were trembling like crazy. Seeing you like this, the hurt and the worry he felt. It went right to his hands, bringing back the state they were in when he was stripped away of everything he had. When he felt hopeless.

But he told himself to push past it. Because he needed to help you.

Before he did anything else, he put down the first aid kit. Raising his hands up and making a few sharp movements with his hands, energy summoned and made a little rune in front of him. His hands absorbed the bright colours. The shaking slowed, almost to a compete stop. Now he could work. Trying to remember his basic studies from medical school, he began to tend to the gash in your leg.

~~~

You had passed out from being so tired and being in so much pain. When you woke up, it was dark outside and it was a little colder in the bedroom. Stephen was still beside you, sitting at your bedside currently looking through a book that had a title that implied the pages contained mystical information on healing. There was this look in his eyes, like he was trying to stay calm. You could only imagine the rushing thoughts running through his head. Once he realized you had woken up, he put his book down like he was called to attention.

"How you feeling?"

"Dizzy..."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You're going to be just fine." He said, moving a little closer to you. "The stab wound is not too deep, needed to be stitched up. Bruising on your torso and arms." He gestured to the areas as he spoke. "You also got hit in the head pretty bad, maybe a concussion so you need to rest." He pulled the warm blanket further up to cover your cold body.

You have not seen Stephen in doctor mode in a while. It was comforting, knowing he knew exactly how to treat something and how to take care of you. You smiled at him, remembering back when he was a surgeon. He might have changed as a person from doctor to sorcerer, but he kept a few qualities.

"Is Wong alright?" You asked, suddenly remembering that little detail from the attack.

"He's fine. I made sure someone is watching over him."

You nodded, instantly regretting making the movement as it came with a headache.

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine."

Then you remembered something else. Earlier you did not think you were going to ask about it. But you needed to. It was nagging you in the back of your thoughts.

"What did you do to them?"

He paused. "I stopped them from hurting you." You thought he was going to stop there. He was, it if were not for the look you gave him to keep going. "I beat them up. I know it was wrong. I was just so angry. I did not like what I saw. Them hurting you like that."

You noticed he kind of dodged your question directly. He gave no details of what he physically did to them. Even with your worry and slight curiosity, you did not press him for the answer you wanted.

You understood why he did it though. He was full of rage and it overtook his mind. But that did not excuse his actions, and you knew he knew it too. He looked a little ashamed of it. He was never good at controlling his anger. You reached out your hand and rested your palm on his cheek. You did not need to say anything because from the look in his eyes you could tell he understood your gesture. Bending down, he kissed your forehead again. Angry Stephen was gone, now it was just protective Stephen.

"One more thing." You said.

He hummed in response.

"You stitched me up?"

He nodded.

"But...your hands..."

"I learned a new rune that suppresses nervousness and its physical reactions."

You had to let out a little laugh, "Of course." Must have been from his recent rune studies because that was new.

"I had to do what I needed to." Shrugging, he gave a smile.

"What about your gloves?"

"I did not have time to go get them," He replied, this made you smile.

The rest of the night consisted of Stephen staying up with you and making sure you were comfortable. He brought you pain killers for your sore muscles and headache, something for you to eat, and anything else you needed. He let you cuddle up to him to rest and stay warm. You had made him renew his promise, and to make a new promise to you, that he would never hurt anyone like that ever again. He agreed and you could see the shame and guilt in his eyes. But you knew he did it to protect you even if his anger had taken over. You both fell asleep into the night, Stephen there to protect you.

[softinkshadows]

battlefield encounters (gojo, nanami, geto, sukuna) (part 3)

Some short vignettes of jjk men x female reader imagined scenarios, where reader meets them for the first time in the middle of a fight (all taking place within the same world and timeline of the manga/anime, although as parallel storylines). Geto Suguru “You disgust me.” His voice is hot against your ear as his strong hands slam you against the wall, nails digging into your flesh. “What is a filthy human like you doing here at this hour?” You try to turn and speak, but your face is pressed hard to the crushed stone wall, and you can feel a thin trickle of blood dripping down the side of your cheek. On most days, Geto would not even deign to touch a human trespasser, preferring to unleash one of his low-level curses on them instead. But today, he is in the mood to get his hands dirty. 10 hours ago, you had received a tip-off at the agency that some nefarious dealings might be underway at a temple on the outskirts of Chiba prefecture. Some suspicious deaths and probable connection to the Star Religious group, the report had said. Now, it is night, and here you are unceremoniously pinned to the outer façade of the main temple by a stranger, your hands held behind your back, agonisingly out of reach from the gun on your holster. “Talk.” His tone is sharp and dominant. A rough grip twists your head to the side, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Lessons from your years of training begin to swarm your mind. Play dumb. “I-I’m a fellow devotee,” you stutter nervously, praying whoever is behind you won’t notice the gun at your belt, and quietly thanking the gods that you wore a long coat to hide it today. “I’m a new joiner, and I heard from a friend inside that there were night sessions as well.” You are spun around, back to the wall. Your hands, still caught in the vice-like hold of his pale arms, are starting to feel bruised. A man with long black hair stands inches away from you, dark locks falling over his face, his flowing robes brushing up against your thighs. His black eyes are terrifyingly cold, piercing, and you catch them glancing to the wound on your head. For a moment, he looks pleased. A shudder runs through you. “A devotee, hmm?” he murmurs thoughtfully, though his eyes never leave yours. There’s something about his gaze, the way he’s holding you, that suddenly fills you with vertigo, as if you’ve tumbled off the edge of the universe and found yourself on its flip side, a darker, frightening world that no one should ever have to encounter. You feel your guise slipping away. Oh god, he knows. Your body tenses. His fingers now stroke the inside of your palms, running them lightly across your heavily calloused skin, the scars from all the combat you’ve faced throughout your time at the agency. The hands of an experienced fighter. His mouth turns up in a slight smirk. “You’re not a very good liar.” ---- Ryomen Sukuna “Hurry up, Itadori,” you yell over your shoulder, scaling the large stone boulders dotting the forest path, moving deeper into the trees. The sun is setting, and the way downhill will be getting dark. But the pink-haired brat is still at the clearing, gawking loudly and admiring the cityscape of Tokyo from the viewing point. So much for babysitting a small-town bumpkin, you groan inwardly, pausing to wait for him. The day before, Gojo had called in a favour. As always, that smart-mouthed ass didn’t bother to give much information. The boy known as Sukuna’s vessel was recovering from a fight with some “patchwork curse,” and both him and Nanami would be busy with jobs the next day, so “would you please look after him, being the independent ‘window’ that jujutsu society doesn’t know about, and oh, by the way everyone thinks he’s dead!” Bewildered, you didn’t have much of a choice but to accept, given how Gojo had been helping to keep your identity under wraps for the last few years. Thus resulting in you having to entertain the boy with a low-key sightseeing tour of Tokyo. “Sorry Y/N-san!” Finally, you hear Itadori’s light footsteps approach from a distance. He catches up with you easily, his physical prowess allowing him to leap from boulder to boulder with ease, even in the growing darkness. You don’t hear the chant that follows next, and neither does Itadori. “Enchain.” The forest grows cold. You feel the cursed energy leaking out from behind you like a frothing pit, curling and extending its tendrils towards your feet. The hairs on the back of your neck stand frigid. You turn around fast, knowing that the person in front of you is no longer the annoyingly cheerful brat you spent the afternoon taking care of. Why now? “Sukuna,” you hiss, moving into a defensive stance. This is a troublesome scenario. In the worst case… your eyes flit to the set of bronze cursed rings on your fingers. You may even have to use it. Not even Gojo, bearer of the Six Eyes, knew about that. He emerges from the shadows into the faint moonlight, torso bared, revealing the black tattoos running across his body. He stretches his arms as if they have stiffened from a long slumber. Now he’s awake and ready. The glint in his eye unsettles you. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you,” Sukuna says. His voice is flippant, though edged with curiosity. Like a king seated on his throne casting a second glance beneath him out of amusement. “To what do I owe this honour?” you scoff sarcastically, gritting your teeth. Then, sharp pain courses through you, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. You feel yourself crashing through tree bark, the wood splintering and scraping your skin. When you come to on your knees, slightly dazed and mouth tasting of blood, you realize Sukuna is already standing over you. A strong hand grabs you by the throat, lifting your body off the ground. “Now, I don’t have much time.” You can feel the pressure building in your chest, as you grasp the thick hands around your neck. In most cases, you’d have kicked your way out by now, but Sukuna’s cursed energy is so immense it paralyzes you, especially in your current state. He continues. “Gojo Satoru thinks you’re just a non-sorcerer who can see curses, but that’s not the case, isn’t it?” He rams your body against the tree, making you gasp in pain and cough from his hold earlier. Blood trickles over your eyelids. He leans close to you, nose almost touching, eyes boring into yours. His left hand remains closed over your throat. His right grabs your left hand forcefully, raising it close to his face. “This…” he smirks, pressing so hard on the cursed rings on your fingers that you wince, “has a pretty interesting ability, after all.” Your eyes widen, then narrow in irritation. Shit. Of all the people who could know about this, it has to be him. Then again it makes sense, given how long the king of curses has been around. He strokes your cheek with a finger, making you grimace. You feel his punishing fingers about to pull the rings loose. Your heart hammers wildly. “Show me my dear,” he whispers slowly, “what you’re hiding.” ---- Notes: The Sukuna portion makes some references to the binding vow made between him and Itadori Yuuji. A ‘window’, like Ijichi-san, refers to non-sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech who can see curses and help to report curse sightings/missions. Hope you guys liked this one and hope it tingled your imaginations~~ --- Taglist (っ˘ω˘ς ) : @encrytpta @wilddreamer98

[galaxwrites]

That time Kaito (accidentally) seduced a dragon

Yugioh writing, this time.

crossposted on my AO3

A mix of Zexal and Arc-V

Ship: ...what's the ship name for Kaito x Shun? that's the one

Dungeons and Dragons AU!

Please, enjoy~

-------

The very way Yuto Sakaki was sitting on the throne radiated power, but... His face looked sorrowful. Kaito had seen plenty of sorrowful kings, but never one this...gloomy. Almost as if in mourning.

He did find it weird how there was no advisor or queen that sat besides him. The last time the pirate was in front of the king, he had the Kurosaki siblings at his side. But now...He was alone.

Yuma's voice snapped the pirate out of his thoughts, as the paladin spoke to the dark-robed king. "Your majesty, I am Yuma Tsukumo, Paladin of Ellipas. And me and my gang have a proposition for you."

The king raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposition, and what is in it for my people?"

"Well, you may already know about your brothers and their kingdoms. And...The threat that Yuri's kingdom poses." Yuma stated. "We believe it'd be best to reunite the kingdoms into one. We've got King Yuya of the Kingdom of Flames on board. We want to continue with you."

Yuto rose from his throne, and walked up to the party of four. Kaito noted that his cape was...well, pretty long. "Reuniting the kingdoms would be vital to our survival, but if I am to get on board with this plan...I need something in return." He stopped right in front of Kaito. The pirate gulped. "My advisor and my queen, Kurosaki Shun and Ruri.. They've gone missing and I am assuming it has to do with the two dragons that have shown up at the edge of my territory. I wish for you to find them, and get rid of my little dragon problem."

Ryouga nodded. "Piece of cake."

The king only narrowed his eyes, at Kaito in particular. "You've been in my kingdom before, and caused quite a stir.. I don't trust you, Tenjou."

"I assure you, your highness, I won't cause that sort of trouble again." Kaito replied, having to physically stop himself from shaking by gripping his arm.

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

Yuto had lead the group to a dark forest he called "Raptor's Hollow". It was thick and twisty and Kaito wondered how any creature could live here.

A distant roar, that steadily grew closer as the group pressed forward, was heard. One of the dragons, maybe.

It took about an hour of walking before the group had reached it-a large, dragon-made clearing. Stumps of wood and full trees were scattered around it. Two dragons sat in the middle, one roaring in pain and the other whimpering while trying to help the other.

The roaring one was much bigger than the other. Its scales a dark green, with a lighter teal underbelly and wings. Its gold eyes shimmered with a sort of familiarity.

The other was a deep purple, with hot pink eyes and pastel purple wings. A small ribbon was tied around its tail.

The bigger one lifted its snout, sniffed the air, and roared, heading straight towards the gang. Yuto and Kaito simply jumped out of the way, with Ryouga and Astral simply running.

But like always, Yuma was an idiot and froze up, getting rammed into a tree. He cried out in pain. "OW-"

"YUMA!!" Astral yelled, obviously concerned. The paladin flashed a thumbs up.

"I'm okay! I think I broke a few ribs but I'm okay!"

Kaito sighed. That's gonna be a Cure Wounds later. For now, he had a plan. A risky one, but when were his plans ever risk free?

He took his lute, and strummed a small tune, letting the spell he had prepared be cast on the dragon. The dragon tilted its head and looked at the bard, listening to the tune. Kaito continued to just...play. Not just for his spell, to to calm himself down as well. Playing music always seemed to help.

As his tune ended, the bard put his lute back, and held a hand out to the dragon. "Hello, there." He said. "Are you hurt?"

The dragon nodded, holding up its tail. A rather large bear trap was secured on it, and dark blood still steeped out of it. Kaito winced. The thing looked painful to even look at. But he nodded and walked over to the dragon's tail. He wasn't a formal healer, but he knew a thing or two about traps and how to get unstuck from them.

He barely even touched the trap when the dragon roared. He held out his hand again. "Easy, there." He said, softly. The dragon layed his head down next to Kaito, softly whimpering. Kaito placed his hand on his head. "Try and stay still."

The smaller dragon tilted its head in confusion as Kaito got to work. With all the strength he could muster, he opened up the bear trap. The dragon roared again and raised its tail, only for Kaito to push it back down. "Let me patch you up, first." He reached into his pack and took out two large rolls of gauze, and started wrapping it around the dragon's tail.

Meanwhile, Yuto turned to Ryouga. "Are your party members always like this?"

Ryouga nodded. "Sadly, yes."

"...I am deeply sorry for you."

The siren shrugged. "Eh, I'm used to it. Though Yuma's idiocy can be a bit much."

"I figured." Yuto said.

As that went on, Kaito finished wrapping the dragon's tail. "There. You should be good for now."

The dragon bowed his head in thanks, and made a sort of friendly growl.

"...I can't understand you, you know." Kaito stated, but he got an idea. "Hang on." With a snap of his fingers, he casted a spell; Speak With Animals. "Try now."

Thank you, kind stranger. The dragon said, in its growly voice. Who are you?

"My name is Kaito Tenjo, I'm the captain of the Starry-Eyed serpent." Kaito replied. "Part time bard. And your name?"

Kurosaki Shun. I was cursed to stay in this form until someone breaks the spell placed on me and my Sister.

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "And how do I do that?"

Shun shrugged. I've no idea myself..

The bard thought for a moment. What breaks curses?

....A kiss? That might work!

"...I have an idea, but I have to ask if it's alright for me to kiss you."

In the background, Ryouga mumbled "Of course he's suggesting that." Yuto facepalmed, and Yuma just weakly cheered Kaito on.

Shun tilted his head. ...Why?

"In some of the old fairy tales I've read, the curse is broken with a kiss." Kaito explained. "It might be the case here."

...Just do it then. I can't take this form any longer,

Kaito nodded, and pressed a kiss to Shun's snout. In a flash of dark magic, the dragon-just the one, the other who Kaito guessed was Ruri was just hugging Yuto at this point-seemed to shift into a young man who was just Kaito's type. Dark hair of green and turquoise, yellow eyes, and dressed almost like a classy vampire.

Needless to say, it was pretty much love at first sight.

"Thank you, Kaito." Shun said, with a smile. His voice was smooth and deep.

Kaito took a bow. "You're welcome, Sir Shun."

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

After the incident, Yuto joined the alliance, and Shun joined the group. Turns out having a shapeshifting sorcerer as a teammate is a good idea. As night fell, the Starry-Eyed Serpent set sail once more, towards the Kingdom Of Winds. Kaito stood out on the main deck, the wind blowing in his coat. Most of the crew-minus Droite and Gauche- had gone to sleep. But, Kaito never slept. Not like he needed it, anyways.

As the moon and stars rose, Kaito held a hand up to one of the constellations. Gemini.

"Hang on, Gem." He whispered. "I'll find you.."

"What's all this about?" Shun asked, walking up behind Kaito.

The bard turned around, and smiled. "Shun. You need anything?"

The shapeshifter shrugged. "No, just...Couldn't sleep. Why you up?"

"I don't exactly need to sleep." Kaito stated, pointing at his pointy ears. "Just meditation every once in a while. Comes with being a half elf."

"Ah." Shun said. "...May I ask who Gem is?"

"...Gemini is one of my siblings." The bard stated. "Hart isn't my only one. We have ten others, and Gemini's one of them." Kaito explained. "...They'd be 15, today."

"...Did they die?" Shun asked.

Kaito shook his head. "No. Just...Father mistreated them and Virgo. So all of us ran away from him and...we somehow got separated. I'm still searching for them."

"What were they like?"

"Well, Gem's really bright and fun. They loved it when I sang. And Virgo was just really shy, but she got along well with basically everyone." Kaito said. "I miss them..."

"I know the feeling, dude." Shun said. "One time I lost Ruri, and I almost went insane trying to find her."

Kaito chuckled. "I can see it, I suppose."

"Yeah..." Shun gave a small laugh of his own. "One more question?"

"Yeah?"

"...Your siblings seemed to be named after the zodiacs, but you and Haruto aren't?"

"Oh, that. We chose these names to distance ourselves from our father." Kaito explained. "My real name is Sagittarius."

Shun smiled. "..Kaito fits you a bit better."

"I know, it does. Now I've got two questions of my own." Kaito stated. "One, mind calling me Kite? We're friends, now. You don't need to be so formal."

Shun nodded. "Sure, Kite. ..What's the second?"

Kaito-Kite-smiled. "....Is there anyone out there whom you like?"

The shapeshifter blushed. "..T-there's someone. Not s-sure if he reciprocates."

The pirate raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"...W-well, it's you.." Shun confessed.

Though Kite kept his cool, he was screaming on the inside. This hottie liked him? WHAT THE HELL?

He took a deep breath, and calmed himself. "What if I said I liked you back?"

Shun's face gained a dusting of red. "...Wait, seriously?"

Kite nodded. "Why wouldn't I? You seem like a nice fellow, and it helps that you look positively handsome."

"I.. I m-mean... Oh fuck it." Shun grabbed Kite by the coat, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Kite blushed heavily, but...well, he kissed back. His arms wrapped around Shun's waist and pulled him close.

It wasn't anything big, it was just a kiss, but Kite, in that moment, felt utterly elated.

When the two had to pull away for air, he smiled. "Look at that. I seduced the dragon."

Shun huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Guess you did.."

[ofstarsandfireflies]

And we’re back at it again! Thought I’d give something different a try this time

Terminator

A robot from the future travels to the past to kill the future’s hope.

Stephen remembered the day Ultron took over the world and killed anyone who tried to rise up against it.

Including the Avengers.

War had broken out between the machines bent on destroying what remained of humanity and the men who could still fight.

Stephen Strange was one of these men.

He and his group of New Avengers had been fighting for years to reclaim the time stone, and today they finally would.

While everyone else would keep Ultron’s Army busy, Wanda and Stephen, the last two magic users left, were tasked with stealing that infinity stone back.

And that was when they stumbled upon the device Ultron had created with it, and watched as Ultron himself stepped through the portal held within.

It had a back up plan.

With this device it could go back and take over the world at any point in time.

With this, Ultron could go as far back as it seemed fit, and as often as it needed, until it won.

They had to destroy it.

And before he could move to, something caught Stephen’s eye.

A photogrpah of Tony Stark.

Ultron had some ulterior motive for going back for Tony Stark and Stephen wanted to know what it was.

He pocketed the photo

The only way he would find out is to get to Tony Stark before Ultron could.

Maybe if he did, this timeline would erase itself, and the world would continue on, protected by the Avengers.

He turned to Wanda.

As soon as he stepped through, she would need to destroy the stone so it could no longer be used.

Ultron can’t use it to go back again.

And Stephen can’t use it to come back again.

And Wanda agrees, saying goodbye to him as he steps through and keeps her promise to shatter the time stone.

Stephen finds himself in a year not too long ago, racing in the opposite direction of the screaming crowds of people who wouldn’t live to see his time come to pass.

And that’s when he sees him.

Tony Stark’s Iron Man, suit battered and sparking, his thrusters spluttering as they tried to keep him airborne as Ultron flew after him.

A well timed blast had Tony falling from the sky, his suit managing to kick itself back into gear before he landed in a heap on the ground.

Stephen pushed his way to him, crimson ropes wrapping around Ultron’s neck and ripping him away from Tony before he could do anything more.

As Tony tries to get up, Stephen offers him his hand.

Without hesitation, Tony takes it, and Stephen helps him to his feet, dragging him with him to where he remembers the Sanctum used to be.

Tony’s full of questions but Stephen can only think to answer the first one he actually has an answer for, telling Tony how this Ultron and himself are from a possible future.

Tony is skeptical, but he has no choice but to believe Strange.

Tony’s fought bloody aliens of all things, time travel isn’t as crazy as he once might have thought.

Before they can reach the Sanctum and ask for help, Stephen falls through one portal and Tony through another, landing them in different rooms of their destination.

While Tony is treated as a guest and given a jacket to cover over his Iron Man armour, Stephen is getting grilled by the Master of this Sanctum, Daniel Drumm.

Master Drumm knows Stephen shouldn’t be here doing what he’s doing.

And Ultron shouldn’t be here either.

Stephen tries to tell them that they have to protect Tony when Ultron bursts in, Stephen just managing to escape as Sorcerers fight and die around him.

He manages to meet up with Tony and they get the hell out of there without being noticed.

They need a place to lay low and rest.

Pulling the hood of Tony’s jacket up over his head, Stephen transforms his cloak into a long coat, pulling the collar up high to hide in and rolling his eyes when he feels it brush his cheek affectionately.

Tony hails a taxi and pays in cash to get them a block away from Stark Tower.

It’s only when Stephen is starting to relax from the adrenaline rush of almost being killed that he starts to feel the pain from the hit he took.

Tony is on him in an instant, inspecting the wound and trying to distract him with more questions about the future.

He has to ask in a hushed whisper so their taxi doesn’t over hear them and kick them out for being nut jobs and bleeding over his seats.

But Tony finds himself answering Stephen’s questions instead.

He answers them as he pulls Stephen out of the cab, almost losing his footing if the coat hadn’t balanced him.

He answers them as he half drags Stephen into Stark Tower.

He answers them in the elevator to his private lab where he begins to patch up Stephen as best he can.

And Stephen hangs on to every word.

Stephen never got to meet his version of Tony Stark, but he wants this one to know he doesn’t blame him for creating Ultron.

His intentions were good, and Stephen knows a person is not the mistakes they make.

Even Geniuses get it wrong sometimes.

Tony can’t see how Stephen can think this after living in a future Tony helped destroy.

So, Stephen tells him that, even though that was true, the Tony Stark from his future never gave up fighting Ultron.

He was an inspiration to the people to get up and fight along side him.

To the few left with extraordinary abilities to come out of hiding and become part of something much bigger.

To him.

Tony Stark was a legend, a cause people rallied behind now and forever, and will always be a hero to them.

People loved him.

Stephen loved him.

And Tony, having tied off Stephen’s bandage five minutes ago, stops Stephen from pulling his robes back up, fingers lightly tracing the pale scarred skin, the only evidence of all the battles Stephen has fought and survived.

Because of him.

He wants to make it up to him.

So when he kisses him and Stephen doesn’t kiss back, Tony instantly thinks he’s overstepped.

But when Stephen finally kisses him back, Tony’s fears ease away.

Stephen can’t protect Tony like this.

Not against Ultron in a technological world.

If Ultron’s body becomes too damaged, he simply flees through network cables and wifi signals.

If they could get somewhere where Ultron couldn’t do that, and get their hands on a weapon that could do some real damage to that vibranium shell, they might have a chance of surviving the night.

The question was where the hell were they going to get those things.

Why, here at Stark Tower, of course.

With the highest security thanks to Ultron’s initial attack some years ago, and with Tony’s personal lab around them, Tony has exactly what they need to destroy Ultron once and for all.

Stephen is amazed.

Tony has something that powerful?

Tony pulls himself from Stephen’s side and walks over to a draw, showing him a large glass tube with different sized metal shards in it.

Adamantium.

And then they hear it.

Ultron is here.

Stephen can only watch Tony work in amazement.

It truly is a sight to behold, and even more so when Tony declares his work is finished.

It’s a glorified Nail Bomb to be sure, but one that will work on Ultron and tear his Vibranium shell to pieces.

Stephen had never seen anything so dangerous be constructed so quickly, and would have offered some form of congratulations had the elevator doors not opened and Ultron stepped out.

Tony grabs the bomb and Stephen tells him to throw it.

They can’t let Ultron win.

If he wins against them tonight, Stephen’s future will become a reality, only there won’t be an Iron Man to inspire the people to fight back.

So he has to throw it and throw it now.

And Tony can’t.

He’s not willing to risk Stephen’s life.

But Stephen knows he doesn’t belong here.

This world, this life, this Tony, all belong to the other him.

So he does the only thing he can think of.

He grabs the bomb from Tony’s hand and throws it at Ultron’s feet, spinning around and throwing himself on Tony to shield him from the blast as the Adamantium nails shoot out in every direction, many piercing through Ultron’s vibranium body and severing it in half.

One pierces through Tony’s leg, but that’s incomparable to the amount Stephen’s body protected him from as he lays still in Tony’s lap.

Tony calls to him softly and Ultron hears him, clambering over Stephen to get to him.

On a whim, Tony rips the five inch nail out of his leg and shoves it up through the jaw, watching those red eyes finally fade into darkness.

And just like that, Ultron is finally defeated.

And Tony is left all alone, cradling Stephen in his arms.

And a few years later, they meet again.

Quotes -

“Come with me if you wanna live.”

Stephen’s first words to Tony

“There was a nuclear war. A few years from now, all this, this whole place, everything, it’s gone, just gone. There were survivors. Here, there. Nobody even knew who started it. It was the machines, Sarah.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Defence network computers. New, powerful, hooked into everything, trusted to run it all. They say it got smart- a new order of intelligence. Then it saw all people as a threat. Not just the ones on the other side. It decides our fate in a microsecond. Extermination.”

Stephen tells Tony about how his future happened.

“Well, how are you supposed to get back?”

“I can’t. Nobody goes home. Nobody else comes through. It’s just him and me.”

Wanda and Stephen’s last conversation.

“Some legend. You must be pretty disappointed.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Kyle, the women in your time, what are they like?”

“Good fighters.”

“That’s not what I meant. Was there someone special?”

“Someone...?”

“A girl, you know.”

“No. Never.”

“Never?”

Just Tony trying to find out if he has a chance with his rescuer.

Protecting the Future -

Stephen can’t change this future.

But maybe he can change the past

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14

[soybeantree]

pairing: kim junmyeon x reader

genre/warning: fluff, magic!au

word count: 5k+

description: apparently blowing off some steam - one too many times - leads to a one way ticket to servantdom. at least that’s how you viewed the newest link in the perverbial chain called ‘eventual obligations of being a familiar’. turns out it actually doesn’t matter how much you argue the rightness of your life choices to the higher ups. and turns out you don’t mind being attached to a certain kim junmyeon all that much either.

a/n: from the ‘rosemary by moonlight’ universe. not necessary to read that first, but some things may not make complete sense. we’ve been working on fleshing out this universe, so there will be more to come very soon!

The assignment sheet mocks you, promising the end of your freedom. You ball up the paper and throw it in the nearest trash bin. It doesn’t matter though, the damn sheet will show up on your bedside table tomorrow. Once signed a contract is unbreakable. It’s only six months though. You continue to remind yourself as irritation crawls across your skin.

Shoving your hands into your pocket, you head towards the exit but pause when you catch sight of a familiar figure. “Yuri!” You call. The healer turns. Her brows furrow when she sees your raised hand. She returns the wave and stops as you jog up to her. “What are you doing here?” 

“City Council business.” She gestures to the hall she came down. The doors at the end lead to the City Council Chambers.”

“But you’re not on the City Council.

“Only because it’s full of bigoted assholes.” She scoffs as she resumes walking. You fall into step beside her.

“Doesn’t your family head the City Council and make up about half of it?”

“Doesn’t mean their not bigoted assholes. Anyways, what are you doing here?” She reaches for the exit door and holds it open for you. 

The sun glares down at you, causing your eyes to transform. Cat eyes are easier to adjust to the bright light which outweighs the con of seeing everything in black and white. “I was picking up an assignment.”

“What?!” Your shoulders hunch, and you hiss. Yuri laughs and slaps you on the shoulder as she comes up beside you. “Don’t get your whiskers in a twist. I just never thought the day would come when Y/N would tie herself down to a sorcerer.”

“It’s not voluntary.” Your mumbling quirks Yuri’s brow. “I may have started a riot with my neighborhood cats,” you explain, quickly adding, “but I had good reason. This dick wad kid at the end of my street keeps shooting at strays with his pellet gun. I reported him to the neighborhood watch, but they did jack shit. So I took it upon myself to right the wrong.” Yuri nods along approvingly as you head down the steps in front of Town Hall, and you smile. If she or Uko were on the Board of Familiars, your hearing would have gone in your favor. 

“Long story short, the dick wad’s father brought charges against me, and the Board of Familiars thought my rebellious behavior is due to a lack of an authority figure in my life and that I have gone too long without a master. After all, what is a familiar without a master?” You roll your eyes and scoff.

“That’s ridiculous, so you had to sign your entire life away?”

You shake your head as you reach the sidewalk and head toward the nearby bus stop. “Familiar Law may be traditional, but it’s not barbaric. I signed a six month contract, and I’ll have an evaluation at the end. If I’m good, they’ll let me decide when and who my next master is.”

“They chose your master?” You nod. “Who?” She asks as the bus pulls up to the stop. The one question, you had hoped to avoid. You use the excuse of boarding the bus to delay your response, but all too soon, you two are sitting. She stares at you waiting for an answer. 

“Jun- Suho.” You correct yourself. “Why do sorcerers have to take a new name when they gain the title? It’s so stupid. He was Junmyeon all through school, and now that he has the fancy title of Sorcerer, I have to call him Suho.” You blabber on, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not like there are a lot of options in the area.” You huff.

“I know.” Yuri sighs, and you chance a glance at her. She’s staring out the window. You nudge her, but she waves you off. It’s not her fault that her family has only produced one sorcerer in the past two generations, but that argument has grown tiresome.

A mischievous grins tugs at your lips, and you settle into your seat. “Yep, so it was either Suho or Kyungsoo – whatever his sorcerer name is – and I didn’t think you’d like me being his familiar.”

Yuri whips around. “It’s D.O, and why would I care if you were his familiar?” You shrug but continue to grin. She glares, and you crack up. “Are you going to meet up with Suho now? He was at the Town Council meeting.”

“Fuck no. The contract doesn’t start till tomorrow, and I plan to enjoy my last night of freedom. Do you want to join me?” You cock a brow, but she shakes her head.

“Can’t. Chanyeol’s in town, and I promised him I would help him with something. Stop by my house in the morning though if you need a hangover remedy.” She offers as she presses the button for her stop.

“You’re the best.” After a quick grin, she is off, leaving you to your night of revelry.

The revelry should have stopped at 11:59. After all, come midnight, your six months of servitude began, but you had to push your boundaries, had to stay out till dawn drinking and dancing. 

Standing in front of Junmyeon’s townhouse after two hours of sleep and with a stomach threatening to unleash everything you imbibed during the last twelve hours, you question your life choices. With a shrug, you step forward and hammer the door. 

Nothing. No creak as the door swings open on rusty hinges and no smoke billowing from an empty corridor. No faint wail of departed spirits welcoming you to a place of death and despair. You definitely have suggestions for your sorcerer, and with Halloween around the corner, they are desperately needed.

Raising your fist again, you pound out the opening to Beethoven’s 5th symphony. Before you make it too far into the song, the door swings open soundlessly to reveal a sleep disheveled Junmyeon in purple silk pajamas with a matching silk robe. 

“I expected the robe. The pajamas not so much.” You comment as you lower your sunglasses to allow a full examination.

With a huff, Junmyeon jerks his robe closed. “What are you doing here, Kitty?”

Your lips pull back as you hiss at the nickname. Middle schoolers think they’re so clever. But the stupid nickname has stuck with you through high school and beyond. Shoving past Junmyeon, you enter the house. He blusters behind you, but you hear the door click shut soon after. 

“Didn’t you hear?” You ask as you glance around the impeccably groomed foyer. Every vase, frame, and piece of furniture glistens with a fresh coat of polish. “Do you clean all of this yourself or do you have a spell for that?” You turn back to face him, pulling your shades off and tucking them into the top you’d pulled out of your laundry basket that morning. It was the clean laundry basket, but it has been sitting on your bedroom floor for upwards of two weeks.

“Hear what?”

“I’m your Familiar.” You sweep your arms out and pop a hip as you dazzle him with your million-watt smile. 

He stares at you, mouth parted and chest still, for entirely too long. As a Familiar your magic extends beyond the ability to shift and a photographic memory, but not to immobilizing sorcerers. 

“Would you stop being a dick and say something? Listen, I’m not happy about this either. I’m even less happy that the stupid Board of Familiars didn’t give you a heads-up even though this was their brilliant idea. But here I am and here you are, and we’re stuck together for the next six months. We should just be happy that they didn’t insist that I live with you. 

“Now, do you have any ginger tea? My stomach is all kinds of upset, and I didn’t have time to stop by Yuri’s and get her hangover remedy.” You about-face and head towards where you think the kitchen is.

“Other way.”

You about-face again and head in the other direction. The kitchen is as disgusting as the foyer. He has everything in glass jars with labels, but none of them have ginger tea written on them.

“In the cabinet to the right of the microwave.” He directs you as he takes a seat at the counter. 

You swivel the Lazy Susan until you find the jar of ginger tea. “Mugs? Tea kettle?” 

He stands and stomps over to another cabinet to grab a mug. Filling it from the sink, he hands it to you, steam rising above the rim. You cock a brow. He returns the gesture, and you snort grabbing the mug and dropping a tea bag in it. “Look at you warming water without a spell. You really are a sorcerer, aren’t you?” You tease as you wait for your tea to steep.

“I didn’t ask for a Familiar, and I don’t need one.”

“And I didn’t ask for a sorcerer, and I don’t want one. But yet again, here we are?”

“Six months?” You nod. “And you signed a contract?” You nod again. “I didn’t sign.”

“Apparently a request was made by the head of your family. No signature needed when it’s stamped with the family crest.”

Junmyeon sighs, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Why is my grandfather like this?”

“We’d all like to know that.” You blow on the tea before taking a tentative sip. The warmth slips through your body easing through your stomach and bringing it to rest. “Did Minseok make this tea blend?” You ask as you take another sip. 

He shakes his head, his cheeks tinging pink. “No, he only works with coffee.”

“You got this from Yuri, didn’t you? How did you swing that?”

“If we are going to be working together for the next six months, we need to set some ground rules.” He sneaks by your question, and you let him because you agree. “Let me shower and change, and then we can go over them.” You nod, sipping at your tea. He starts to walk off but stops and swivels back to face you. “Don’t touch anything.” You roll your eyes, and he narrows his.

“Calm down, Mr. Sensitive. Sorcerers aren’t the only ones who know about the delicate nature of magic.” His lips purse, but whatever retort he has remains unspoken. He walks off, and you shake your head. This is going to be a long six months. 

Strolling out of the kitchen, you follow the scent of magic up to the second story of the townhouse. The door to Junmyeon’s work room is locked, but what good of a Familiar would you be if that stopped you. The door pops open, and the scent of magic overwhelms you. Sneezing, you glance around. The large still at the end draws your attention. Witches simply brew their potions in a cauldron, but sorcerers have to be pretentious and make it seem like their work is more advanced and complicated. 

Passing in front of a mirror, you pause and raise a brow. Surely, Junmyeon knows the mirror is an open dimension portal. Why he would have an open dimension portal is beyond you, but he must have a reason. You stand in front of the mirror, chewing on the inside of your lip. He said not to touch anything, and you had given your word. However, you would be a shitty Familiar if you left the portal open. 

Eyes closed, you breathe in and out, feeling your magic hum through your hair and all the way to your toes. Your bones reform themselves, and your skin shrinks itself as fur sprouts across it. When you open your eyes, the world appears in shades of grey, except for the creatures on the other side of the mirror. They glow a sinister black. Raising a paw, you rest the pads against the cool glass. It ripples at your touch. The creatures stir, and you hiss at them to stay back. Your claws are good for more than catching mice. 

Magic surges through you, and you purr at the sensation. Releasing the magic, you watch as it coats the mirror’s glass. The rippling surface stills, and when you stare at it, only your reflection stares back.

“What are you doing?” Junmyeon’s scream grates on your ears, and you hiss at him. “I told you not to touch anything.”

And I wouldn’t if you weren’t stupid enough to leave an open portal in your work room. Who knows what shit those creatures would have caused in here. Your words are unspoken. They call upon your magic to reach him, and judging by his frown, they did.

“The portal wasn’t open.”

You cough, your throat unable to snort. Wow. Now I understand why your grandfather requested a Familiar for you. 

He bristles, his shoulders rolling back as he draws himself up to his full height which is considerable from where you sit on the floor. “I was doing quite well without one. I am close to a breakthrough on my research, and I will not have you causing me any delays.”

Delays? I’ve been here for less than an hour, and I’ve already saved your research. 

“Will you become human, please? We have a lot to discuss.”

You shrug, and by the time your shoulders settle into place, you are human again. “Better?”

With a nod, he heads to his work table and sits down on one of the stools, indicating you should take the other. 

Stretching, you ease the tightness which always comes from transformation and do as requested. Junmyeon starts talking, but the burbling beakers behind him capture your attention. One’s color shifts from bright blue to dark purple as you watch. Above it, a valve releases a droplet of water in ten seconds intervals. The liquid continues to darken with each drop. 

“I have a feeling that you don’t want that turning black.” You cut Junmyeon off as you point to the beaker. 

He glances over his shoulder and nearly falls off his stool as he rushes to remove the beaker from under the valve. He curses and mutters low to himself as he sloshes the liquid around. A light traces the surface of the glass before disappearing. Junmyeon sets the beaker on the table and scratches the back of his head. His eyes focus on a shaft of light coming through one of the work rooms' high windows. He continues to mutter, and you stand, moving closer to him to catch the vein of his thoughts. But, he senses your presence and steps back, glowering at you.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m your Familiar. I’m supposed to help you with your magical problems, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what they are.”

“We have not established the rules of our relationship, and I don’t need your help.” He places his hand on the beakers top, muttering a spell. The liquid disappears, and he picks up the empty vessel, carrying it over to a previously unnoticed cauldron. You smile to yourself. Maybe, he’s not as pretentious as you thought. Returning with a bright green liquid circling the base of the beaker, he sets it under the valve and adjusts its speed, increasing the time between drips. 

“What are you working on?” You ask and quickly add. “I’m your Familiar. I should know.”

“We are setting up our ground rules.” He retakes his stool and you plop into yours, propping your head against your palm. The tea calmed your stomach, but using magic while hungover and exhausted is brewing a nasty headache. 

“Fine. Can we make it quick though? I need a nap.” 

“First, you are not to enter my home if I am not present.”

You nod. The movement sends a stab of pain through your head. “Going forward. If I don’t say anything, I agree. Also, even though my eyes are close, I am still listening.”

“Why did you go so hard last night?”

You grunt in response. “Consider it my ‘bachelorette party’. Gotta party hard before-“ You stop when you feel cool finger tips against your temple. Cracking an eye open, you still. Junmyeon’s face is a breath from yours. His eyes, warm as a sunrise, focus on you. His lips, soft and supple, part. His words are a whisper, but your mind fails to process anything he says. Magic flows from his fingertips. The ache in your head eases. 

He steps back, his eyes still upon you. “How does that feel?”

You stare at him, both eyes wide open, and your mouth silent. Your brain has forgotten what words are and how speaking works. 

“Y/N?”

“Better.” The response is a guttural growl. You clear your throat and repeat in your regular voice. 

“Given the current circumstance,” he says as he reclaims his seat. “The second rule is do not show up to my house drunk or hungover.” You nod. “Three, do not touch anything without my permission.” You roll your eyes but motion for him to continue. “Four, do not give advice unless I ask for it.”

“Yeah, that’s not possible.” You smirk at him. “I’m a Familiar. My job is to give unsolicited advice. Like you should try a different type of water to purify that potion.” You point back to the beaker which is once again on its way to black. 

Junmyeon’s head falls back as he groans. Your attention catches on the strong column of his throat. You shake the image out your head. Your close encounter has addled your brain. Junmyeon is an Essem, and you shouldn’t be staring at any part of him.

“I don’t understand.” He growls, and you refocus on the darkening potion. “This water was charged during the full moon and distilled by my cousin. It should work.” He grabs the beaker, vanishing the contents once again. This time though he does not refill it. Instead, he sets it down and pulls a leather journal from a shelf above his work bench. 

“Charged during one full moon or many?” He glances up from his notes, a question in his glance. You sigh. “Water charged during one full moon is fine for scrying, but if you’re trying to purify a potion and make it stronger that shit isn’t gonna work. You need stronger water. What’s the potion and what do you want to accomplish?”

His finger taps against the journal, and his whole face scrunches up. 

With a huff, you stand up and walk towards him. He pulls the book to his chest before you can catch a glimpse of anything. “Really? What do you think I’m going to do? Run off to the Stahns and tell them what you’re working on? They don’t use spies.” You pause, allowing the weighted silence to convey what you are leaving unsaid. “And even if they did. I wouldn’t spy for them. Despite how much I fucking hate the Familiar institution, I do uphold our value of loyalty.”

He lowers his arms. You snatch the journal from him. He makes a noise, but you ignore him as you flip through the pages allowing your magic to commit it all to memory. “Do you really think you can make an invisibility potion last longer?”

“Yes, I think that by purifying a potion, you can increase both potency and longevity. I’m trying to establish the process with an invisibility potion and then expand to other potions.” His shoulders go back and his chest puffs up as he speaks, but his voice quavers revealing a glimpse through the peacocks feathers.

You nod, turning a page. “Why potions? I always thought sorcerers were more interested in spells and rituals.”

“Spells and rituals are fun.” His chest deflates as he rearranges the equipment on his desk. “And you get a lot more prestige from accomplishments with them, but they aren’t that useful for everyday life and people.”

You pause on a page, the scribbles already committed to memory. Junmyeon has the fancy script of a sorcerer, but perhaps not the motivation. “But a long lasting invisibility potion is?” You smirk as you snap the journal closed and hold it out to him. “I feel like that’s only useful for pervy teens and maybe thieves. Which is your market?”

“Neither.” He snatches the book from your hand. “It’s a basic potion, an easy starting point. I don’t intend to hand it out to anybody who asks.”

You shrug but continue to smirk. “Any more rules?”

He shakes his head. “But I reserve the right to additional ones as I see fit.”

“I reserve the right to argue them. I accept the first three, but not the fourth.” You hold out your hand, allowing your magic to fill it. After a moment’s hesitation, he grasps it. His magic meets yours, sealing the agreement. “Alright, now that’s settled, I’ll let you get back to work while I try to figure out your water problem.” He sputters out a response which you ignore as you head out of the room. 

Three weeks in the Essem library leaves you more frustrated than the day you were forced to sign your damn contract. Getting access to the library had been bitch enough. Grandpa Essem had been adamant that no outsider should have access to their family’s knowledge and especially not someone with a photographic memory. When you pointed out to him that he was the one who had registered Junmyeon for a familiar, he had blustered insensible nonsense which you had tuned out. In the end, it took Junmyeon and Kyungsoo vouching for you and a gag spell before he allowed you access.

Not that the library has been any help. The Essem’s have plenty of books about enchantments, spells, rituals, charms, and all other forms of high magic, but something as simple as supercharging water no. Aside from spending the next three years charging the same water during each full moon, you are at a loss, and that would not be practical for Junmyeon’s purposes. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know any aquamentals would you?” You ask Yuri as you spin in her swivel chair. 

“No. You know how rare elemental magic is.” She glances between her notebook and the ritual she has set up on the table. A bowl sits in the middle. She said it was a salve for wounds which would help knit flesh back together if she could empower it properly.

“Yeah.” You sigh, giving yourself another push.

“You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m with a healer.” She ignores your comment. “You work with charged water don’t you.”

“I’m not offering any advice that will be used to help an Essem.”

You scowl. “Don’t think of it as helping an Essem. Think of it as helping one of your oldest friends.”

“Who is working with an Essem.”

“Don’t you owe Kyungsoo for something.”

Her hands ball into fists. “Junmyeon is not Kyungsoo.”

“What if I convince Kyungsoo that this counts?” 

“No.” She snaps her notebook closed, ending the conversation.  She closes her eyes and draws upon her magic. You can smell it in the air, a hint of herbs and growing things. Sweat breaks across her forehead, but even with all her effort, it is only a hum compared to the current of Junmyeon’s magic. She places her hands on the table. For a moment, the ritual hums. You hold your breath. The magic fizzles, sputters, and explodes. The contents of the bowl covering the table, Yuri, the ceiling. You manage to stay clear of the blast zone.

Yuri unleashes a string of curses and nearly flips the table before collapsing back in her chair and banging her head on the table. “This should not be so hard.” She moans.

 As you fumble for something to say, the workshop door opens. “Uko.” You breathe a sigh of relief. She has always been better at cheering Yuri up. She also believes that magical knowledge should be accessible by all. “Really quick before you help Yuri, what���s the best way to charge water? And don’t say moonlight because I’ve tried that and it’s not powerful enough.”

“Which crystals have you used?” She asks as the door closes behind her.

“Doesn’t matter. None of them could give the water a high enough charge.” You wheel towards her, grabbing onto her hand and peering up at her with the softest kitty eyes you can muster. “Please you’ve read so much.”

“You know you look creepy not cute when you only transform your eyes.” She taps your forehead before walking to Yuri. She brushes against you, swiveling you to face them both. Yuri is continuing to bang her head. 

“Stop it.” She commands. Yuri drops her head with a final thud.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” You whine.

Uko shakes her head as she glances between the two of you. “If crystal and moonlight isn’t enough then you would have to steep it with an object of pure magic.” 

“Where the fuc-” But your brain answers the question before you can finish. You’re an idiot. A straight idiot. “Thank you, Uko. You’re the best.” You jump out of the chair and wrap the girl in a quick hug. “Also, Yuri, I’m pretty certain Kyungsoo would help you with your ritual if you asked.” She lunges at you, but you dart out of her reach, laughing as you head for the door. 

A week later, you skip into Junmyeon’s workroom, positively purring. If your idea was successful which you know it will be, you will see the results today. As you cross the door’s threshold, your footsteps falter. Junmyeon stands at his work table with his back towards you. Red tinges his magic, leaving the taste of sulfur on your tongue. “Suho?”

“Kitten,” the word is a low growl. Not Kitty, Kitten. Anger or, perhaps, fear should explain the surge of blood through your system, but it takes second place. An unwanted and unwarranted emotion causes warmth to travel from cheeks to toes. You have been spending way too much time with Junmyeon. 

“I have a name.” You spit back, calling on your anger.

Junmyeon’s hands clench on his work table. “Where did you get the water?”

Fear rises and mingles with your anger. Neither produces an answer though. The words remain locked within your throat. 

As he turns to face you fear overwhelms every emotion. You had misinterpreted the red. Rather than anger; fear has mixed with his magic. Fear for you if the Council finds out? Fear for himself. Regardless, his fear frightens you. “From the Lake.” He knows which lake. He knew before he asked. 

“Why?” His voice breaks on the question and brings your head low.

“We were out of options.” You whisper. “There are no spells for charging water, we don’t know any aquamentals, and relying on the full moon would have taken too long. The Lake has been steeping for centuries.”

“Steeping dark magic.”

You scoff at that. “Magic is neither dark nor light. It’s magic. We are dark and light and use magic to suit our purposes.”

He presses his lips together until they are a thin line across his face. You swallow the rest of your argument. In the current conversation, it is irrelevant. Junmyeon knows it too.

“It is forbidden to go to the Lake or take its water.”

“Only because the Council is full of bigoted assholes.” You borrow Yuri’s description. “Just because they think they know everything doesn’t mean they do. The spells placed on the Lake are older and more powerful than anything the sorcerers of today can conjure. The Stahns may be diminished in power now, but they were at the height of their power when they sealed away the Paen’s sorceress. Taking a beaker of water isn’t going to do anything to those spells. Short of draining the lake of all its water, I don’t think there is anything we could do today to affect those spells.”

“Regardless, it is the law, and you broke it.” His fist pounds on the table behind him, shaking the still. The invisibility potion, clear with only a hint of green, ripples beside his fist.

“Are you-“ The question sticks in your throat like a hairball. You cough. “Then be a good little Essem and turn me in.” You call on the remnants of your anger and force the fear out.

“No.” Your eyes snap to his. You were ready for the Council to come storming in and bind your magic for the rest of your life.

“No?”

“No.” He leans against the table and folds his arms across his chest. “I should because that was stupid and reckless.” He sighs and shakes his head. “But you are my Familiar. You acted to help me. More importantly though.” He holds your gaze, offering a glimpse of the deepest depths of his soul. “You are my friend, and I trust you.” 

You run your tongue across your lips, suddenly parched. Friend? You have known Junmyeon since kindergarten. You have been his line buddy, his teammate, his lab partner, but he has always been an Essem. A bigoted asshole and the enemy. You nod. 

“Thank you, friend.” You smile at the odd taste of the word. He returns the smile. “Do we go back to work now?”

“I’m adding another rule.” Pushing himself off the bench, he comes to stand before you and extends a hand. “Please consult me before you break any laws.” With a chuckle, you reach for his hand, but pull back and cock a brow. His face furrows as you tuck your hand behind your back. 

“Before I agree I have a rule of my own.” He sighs and crosses his arms, nodding for you to continue. “Don’t call me Kitten again unless you mean it.”

“What do you mean ‘mean it’?”

“You’ll know what I mean if you mean it.” You purr. 

A flush creeps up his neck, but he clears his throat and shakes it off. “Fine.” He offers his hand again. This time, you take it and let your joined magic rush through you. 

[farleydiana]

red queen hogwarts au :)

so i’ve finally decided to bring this idea to life..... shoutout to the @redqueenetwork discord for coming up with cool headcanons and help with character sorting!! 

this is also my first fic ever DONT be mean. plot is basically mare goes to hogwarts forthe first time and makes friends its very happy. this was super fun to write so hope y’all enjoy.

arrival

Mare had always wondered what lied on the other side of the wall. 

Every year, since she was six years old, she’d seen her brothers run straight into it and fade into another dimension, to a secret platform and the train that would take them to Hogwarts. She’d heard insane stories about the place, stuff that belonged in fever dreams or myths. Staircases that moved, forests home to deadly creatures, a gigantic squid on a lake, ghosts that roamed the halls, portraits that could talk… it didn’t sound real. It couldn’t be. But when her letter appeared in their small mailbox one friday in August, she realized maybe her brothers weren’t toying with her after all… that this magical castle hidden in the highlands did exist, and that it housed all those things that came from your wildest dreams and nightmares. And now, she was going to be a part of it all. That didn’t feel real.

She was finally going to cross the wall. 

Her mother, Ruth, hugged each of her sons tight, one final goodbye before they left for school. They all hugged Gisa too, Tramy even lifted her up. He was getting stronger, playing that quidditch sport. And off they went. Bree first, pushing into the wall with force. He disappeared. Then, it was Tramy’s turn. Then Shade’s. 

Mare’s heart raced, this was really it. Her time had come. She said a quick goodbye to Mom, Dad, and Gisa, and grabbed her cart, which contained a trunk filled with books and a broom, and, with all her strength, pushed straight for the wall. 

Out of instinct, she expected a collision that would make her trip into her cart or maybe fall headfirst into the floor, but instead, she emerged in a bustling platform. Her brothers were waiting for her, and they cheered when she came out, high-fiving her. This whole thing was starting to feel like an adventure. 

They moved along, making space for new people who entered. Platform 9 ¾ was at its full capacity, with countless families saying goodbye to their children. They were all strangely dressed, in robes or very colorful dress suits. Mare found herself almost clinging to Shade, as Bree and Tramy went to meet their friends. They both stood awkwardly in the middle of the platform looking like lost children, searching the train’s entrance. Mare took this chance to look around. Her eyes landed on a woman, with blond hair elaborately tied in a low bun and a long blue coat (in summer!) whispering to a boy who was undoubtedly a first year like her. The woman stood up, and Mare could notice those around her standing a little straighter. Her icy eyes found Mare’s, and she too tensed.  She must be a really powerful witch, Mare thought, she certainly looks like it.

“Come on,” Shade said, grabbing her wrist and pulling them through the crowd. Maybe Shade noticed her staring at the woman.

“Who is she?” Mare asked. She figured she needed to know. 

“Elara Merandus. Works for the Ministry-- wizard government. Not one of the good ones there.” Shade explained. 

She wanted to know more, to know what the Ministry did, and why she wasn’t “one of the good ones”. But the crowd to the train was moving along.

They entered quickly, and the mumbling from the platform was instantly replaced by the sound of train engines and excited teens. Shade walked along the train, to check for carts they could sit at. Some were full, others had kids much older than them, and others had one or two kids with unfriendly looks on their faces who always answered “sorry, it’s taken” when asking if they could sit. Then, they came across a boy looking absentmindedly through the window. 

“Excuse me,” Shade said, “are these seats taken?”

The boy jumped, not having expected a visitor. “What? Oh, no… it’s not taken,” he said. He had hair the color of wheat and very green eyes. Mare and Shade entered the cart, seating in the bench opposite to his. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, Mare turned her attention to her worn sneakers. 

 The train started moving. A bunch of kids screamed last goodbyes, and Mare kind of wanted to join them, but she had already left her parents behind. Instead, she gripped the edge of her seat a little tighter at the sudden movement. 

“I’m Kilorn,” the boy said, “Kilorn Warren.”

Mare laughed a little on the inside. What kind of dumb name is Kilorn?

“I’m Shade,” her brother said, “and this is my sister, Mare Barrow”

Kilorn didn’t bother to hide his laugh. The same can be said about our names, she thought, a bit embarrassed. 

“Are you first years too?” Kilorn asked. 

“I’m on my second year, Mare’s a first year.” Shade replied before she could.

Kilorn turned all his attention to Mare. “This is all so crazy, isn’t it? The, you know… the train, the school… it’s magic,you know?” He was ecstatic, words spilling from his mouth, and Mare grinned at his enthusiasm. “I thought this was some prank when I got my letter, but… it’s not.”

Mare nodded, remembering when Bree first got his. A strange man with blue robes and close-cut white hair had appeared in their house one morning with a letter, and explained to her parents what this whole wizarding school ordeal was about. They were… shocked, to say the least, but would never refuse the opportunity of free education at a boarding school with all the amenities covered. So, the man had taken Bree to Diagon Alley to get his wizard things, and the Barrows sent him off on September 1st. Everyone after him had gotten just a letter. They were all surprised when Tramy got his, and convinced that everyone in the family was in some way magical when Shade got in too. Mare kind of felt she was, with the way her surroundings seemed to act weird whenever she felt angry, which was more often than she’d like. For that entire year Mare tensed, afraid of being the exception, of not getting her letter. Her parents already treated her like less than her sister, who was beautiful and ladylike… she would not stand the humiliation. 

“I was so relieved when I got mine,” she said. “All my older brothers got one. It would be kind of embarrassing if i didn’t”

“Wait, so you’re not… Your parents aren’t wizards?” Kilorn asked, brows furrowing in confusion 

“No..”

“Our parents are muggles.” Shade said.

“They were born… normal, but their kids are all magical,” Mare continued. 

“You know what, I’m convinced at least one of them is a sorcerer in secret,” Shade said.

“If they were, they would’ve already thrown thousands of jinxes at us.” They both giggled. It was certainly strange, how all of them had magic inside them. Maybe magic just liked the family. 

“Are your parents wizards?” Shade asked Kilorn.

A long pause followed. Mare felt the answer before he said it out loud. 

“I don’t know who my parents are,” Kilorn said, his voice sorrowful. 

Mare’s whole body sank. She didn’t know what to say to this… ‘i’m sorry’ felt like too little. She had never met an orphan, but she could clearly imagine how sad it must be to grow up alone.

A grim silence settled in. Mare watched as the lush green hills passed by, taking her back to when she was younger, running around the prairies of home with her siblings.

“Uh, hello,” a boy suddenly said. He was at the cabin threshold, half hidden. Mare recognized him as the boy the woman was talking to. He had the same deep blue eyes. 

“Can I sit with you guys?” he asked. 

The three children looked at one another. Mare furrowed her brows at Shade, who was thinking the same thing she was. Associating with this kid was probably not good. But, it would be mean to not let him in. 

Kilorn, for his part, didn’t seem to notice their doubt, and said “sure! Come along.”

Reluctantly, the boy sat next to Kilorn, though a few inches apart. There was silence again, and Mare felt a bit… intimidated. But, why? The boy looked just as nervous as she was. 

“Are you a first year too?” Kilorn asked. 

“Yes,” the boy said. I was with my brother, who’s in his third year, but I didn’t like his friends very much. So I left.” 

“Oh,” Mare said. “well, hello.” She tried to smile, but it was an awkward fake smile. 

“Hey,” he said, “I’m Maven Calore.” Mare assessed him. He was wearing very nice robes, which made Mare feel kind of off in her old, overworn clothes. He was looking at her, too, though Mare couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. 

“Calore…” Shade said, with an inquiring look. “You’re Cal’s brother?”

“Yes…” Maven said with a sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Kilorn giggled. 

“Who’s Cal?” Mare asked Shade.

“He’s this Gryffindor guy…” he said, annoyed. “And all the girls in my year are obsessed with him and his fire-colored eyes.” He spoke in his mocking voice. Mare laughed. 

“That’s my brother.” Maven said. 

“And his name is… Cal Calore?” Mare couldn’t contain her chuckle this time. Why does everyone here have ridiculous names?

“No, it’s Tiberias.” Maven Answered. “Tiberias the seventh.”

Mare raised her brows at that. “The seventh!? What happened to Tiberias one through six?”

Maven laughed. “No, it’s this dumb family tradition. Our father is the sixth and his father is the fifth and so on.”

“Oh, so you’re like… the Royal Wizarding Family or something?” 

That Maven wasn’t expecting. He blushed, taken aback, and for a second Mare wondered if that had been too mean.

“They kind of are. I mean-- they’re pretty famous.” Shade said. “They’re famous cursebreakers or something.”

Mare nodded a small ohh. Kilorn raised his brows at the word “cursebreakers.” Maven just shrugged.

“And what kind of curses do they break?” Mare asked.

“I don’t know, like…” Maven furrowed his brows, thinking of a way to explain. “There are like, laws, on how to use magic, and they work in enacting that. They’re not all cursebreakers. Some are aurors.”

“Magical police.” Shade clarified. 

“They’re kind of annoying, if you ask me.” Maven said, “Everyone says i’m different to them. I’m not, like, super sporty and stuff. My dad says I should be more like my brother.”

“Oh, my mom’s the same,” Mare said. “She’s super proud of my sister because she can draw really well,and I’m not particularly good at anything”.

They fell into easy conversation, talking about sibling frustrations and family wishes. Kilorn and Shade, for their part, talked about the school, Shade explained the houses and house points and what Quidditch was. Kilorn decided he would like to play, it sounded fun. Mare eventually joined in, saying she’d like to play too (all her brothers did), beating balls while flying sounded fun. Shade also talked about the professors, who was nice and who wasn’t. He seemed to like Julian, the history of magic teacher, who was also head of the Ravenclaw house, which was, according to Shade, the best one. Part of Mare hoped she’d be sorted there just to be with her brother, but she felt she wasn’t brainy enough. There was also Anabel, the potions teacher, who wasn’t that nice to students that got on her ugly side. 

“Basically you have to one, be smart, or two, be a slytherin, if you don’t want her to be hard on you,” Shade explained. 

“Looks like she plays favorites.” Mare said.

“Yeah the slyths are quite literally snakes. Really. That’s their animal.”

Mare decided in that moment that she didn’t want to be in slytherin. 

Shade kept going over the teachers. There was Carmadon, the funny herbology teacher, and Davidson, the Defense against the dark arts teacher. According to Shade, he was really strict in class but outside class he would talk with the students, and was very nice.

The rest of the ride passed quickly, and soon it was time to change into their uniforms. The castle came into view. It really was huge, with bridges and pointed towers. Dark, yet strangely welcoming. 

All over the train, there were cheers and gasps of surprise as they got closer. Mare watched the school approach through the window with Kilorn and Maven, thinking woah, this really is real…

The descent from the train is hurried and messy. Shade leaves for his friends, a group of boys dressed in the same blue robes, and the trio of first years is left to be carried by the crowd. Maven gets lost, and Kilorn and Mare end up joining the cluster of other first years, who are indicated to follow a big man named Hagrid. He gives a brief tour of the castle grounds. They were at the Great Lake, where the huge squid resided. on the other side a little to the left was the forbidden forest, which Mare kind of wanted to enter, to find why it was forbidden. At second thought she decided it’d be a terrible idea. Then, very far on the other side, the quidditch pitch. The place was gigantic.

In small groups, the kids crossed the lake in carriages pulled by invisible horses. Mare and Kilorn boarded one with a boy named Thomas and a girl named Sonya, who didn’t seem to enjoy sitting with any of them. 

Once they were on the other side, the thirty-something first years continued into the castle. Mare couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping as she walked through the oak double doors and into a torchlit entrance hall. There was a grand staircase in front of them, and she could hear muffled talk from somewhere. She didn’t have much time to take in her surroundings, as the party was quickly moved to a room at the right.. Before she entered, she glimpsed four hourglasses filled with glittering stones, one for each house, she guessed.

So this is the Great Hall. It was the biggest dining room Mare had seen in her life. Her eyes went straight to the ceiling, it was open… bewitched, Mare remembered, from one of Shade’s letters, to look like the night sky. It was just as beautiful as she’d imagined. 

The great hall had four long tables, each occupied by students from different houses. Mare recognized them by color. The closest one was the green one, slytherin. Then blue, ravenclaw, where Shade was. Then came yellow, Hufflepuff, which was Tramy’s house. And the farthest one was Gryffindor, Bree’s house. 

The kids hurried to the right wall, where another long table stood on its own platform, overlooking the other four. The professors’ table. Right in front of it, there was a small stool with a very old hat sitting on it. 

Mare knew what came next, and it made her heart race. The sorting ceremony. The moment that would determine where you belonged in Hogwarts. Excitement flood the room, as hopeful students cheered for their houses, and the newcomers breathed heavily, a mix of nerves and adrenaline.  Mare spotted Bree smiling at her from his table and couldn’t help but smile back. The students stood in front of the teachers’ platform and the headmaster, a wizard with a long, white beard called Dumbledore, welcomed them with a speech. He was weird, Mare concluded. Even by wizard standards. 

Then it was time for the sorting. It opened with the hat singing a very off-key yet catchy song about the houses, how they were founded and what each house meant. Mare had no idea where she might end up. Maybe Gryffindor, people thought of her as brave-- but she definitely didn’t see herself as similar to Bree in any way. She had always been more like Shade… but she wouldn’t fit in Ravenclaw; she didn’t have a passion for knowledge and wouldn’t say she was creative. She wouldn’t deny she was smart, though… so it was a possibility. Hufflepuff was completely scratched, she was not hardworking nor kind. The only one left was slytherin… her brothers had joked she’d end up there, with her little revenge plans she pulled off whenever Bree or Tramy decided to get on her ugly side. Well, it was always her idea and Shade’s execution. But, from what she’d heard, a house of pretentious rich kids and mean teachers wasn’t that appealing to her. She ended up deciding to leave it to the hat.

The first kid to go up was Alice Zhang, hufflepuff. They were calling the kids in reverse alphabetical order, which meant she was going to be one of the last ones… great, she thought, mentally rolling her eyes. She wanted to get over it quickly but no, she’d have to wait. 

Kilorn was next. He grinned wide when the hat announced “Hufflepuff!” He had been eyeing the house, hoping to end up there. And so, one by one, the students stepped forward and sat in the stool to have their houses chosen. Most of them were happy with their new school family. Some had expected it. Others hadn’t, and were pretty shocked from it. But also the students didn't care about most of the newcomers.

The attention was on two students: Maven and Sonya Iral from the carriage. Mare couldn’t help but listen at people’s muttering about them.

“... with a family like that I bet you five galleons she'll end up in Ravenclaw or Slytherin”

“That boy’s definitely a Slytherin”. “How are you so sure? Every Calore ever has been a Gryffindor.” “He just looks like one. I can see it in his face.”

“... with a mother like that…” “I’ve never met Elara, but I hear that she could defeat he-who-must-not-be-named with her stare only.”

Mare’s eyes were suddenly very open. Who was this he-who-must-not-be-named person and why didn’t Shade tell her about him? It was certainly important. 

“Sonya Iral,” The professor, McGonagall, called.

The girl walked toward the stool. She looked like one of the mean girls who would call your shoes ugly in fourth grade, with long black hair straightened to perfection and deep tan skin, and moved with the grace of a ballerina. 

“Slytherin!”

Mare startled at the loud cheers behind her. She would cheer too, she thought, if she had one of the richest people in the school in her house. 

“All the posh kids are making it to slyth,” she heard, coming from a table to her left. 

“It’s always the rich ones in slytherin… I don’t think I’ve seen a muggleborn in that house in years,” another student said.

“I mean, nowadays being a muggleborn in slytherin would suck…”

Mare swallowed hard. Maybe I could end up in gryffindor.

A few more students passed. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor. Gryffindor. Slytherin. 

Then, “Maven Calore.”

Maven walked slowly to the stool, all eyes on him. People were still betting on his placement, which made Mare mentally sigh in annoyance. She glanced at the Gryffindor table, all of them on their toes. Her eyes focused on a guy who was maybe thirteen, and had eyes literally the color of fire. That must be Cal the seventh, Mare thought. He was staring hopefully at his brother, hands clasped in front of his mouth. 

Maven, to his favor, looked calm. 

“Slytherin!” the hat declared. 

Gasps traveled through the whole hall. Jaws dropped to the floor and eyebrows shot to the ceiling as Maven walked to his house, which, to the shock of everyone who knew the Calores, was not Gryffindor. He was almost… proud? Or, looked like it, with his back straight and his strides long and confident. The green table roared, welcoming his new student, son of some… really powerful people. Mare was starting to think the Slytherin house wasn't a house of like-minded students, but an exclusive club of trust fund children. One she certainly could not belong to. Or could she?

She was about to find out. 

Mare felt her blood run down her veins like sparks, suddenly feeling very anxious. Rachel Brown, Ravenclaw. She breathed in, breathed out. Felt her leg shake. Edward Bennett, Hufflepuff. She braced herself. This was it. 

“Mare Molly Barrow.”

She hurried to the stool, hearing murmurs about her potential house. “Gryffindor, for sure.” “She looks a bit Ravenclaw to me.” “No, I know it. That’s a Slytherin face.” “She has the same look as Farley, definitely a Gryffindor.” 

McGonagall put the hat on top of her unruly head. She cringed when she felt the hat speak inside her mind. It’s looking through my brain…

“I see quite a bit of nerve in there…” it said. “Oh. oh, yes, you are a courageous one, child.” 

She smiled. Gryffindor, then? She couldn’t help it, bt a bit of disappointment fell on her shoulders at that. 

“No… i see that, while brave, you are twice as cunning. Intelligence sharp as a viper’s” Her eyes sparked, quickly assessing the room, finding Maven’s by chance. 

“It could not be more clear… SLYTHERIN!”

Mare grinned and walked toward her table, her house, while cheers surrounded her from all sides. A part of her sank when she realized the slytherin table was the one cheering the least. 

Still, they welcomed her with smiles as she sat. “Hey!” Maven said, shocked as was the rest of the house, whispering among them and giving her looks that ranged from confusion to plain disgust. Some, like Maven, were actually happy she was there. A girl with silver hair and dark grey eyes was surveying her intently. Mare couldn’t figure out if it was curiosity or malice in her eyes. She wanted to feel welcomed, she really did, but from what she’d heard about her new house, she wondered if she ever would. Everyone looked so composed and elegant… and there she was, straight out of a muddy village. She felt small, and off, so she decided to distract herself from her thoughts and focus on the ceremony… which was ending. 

“Hello! Welcome to Slytherin,” a voice said, taking her out of her gloom. A girl was standing over her, she had bright red hair which reminded her of Gisa’s, and wore a wide, welcoming smile. “I’m Mariella Haven. Prefect. If you need help with anything, you can come to me or any other Prefect.”

Mare smiled. She seemed… genuinely nice. “Hey, thank you,” she said. Mariella gave her and Maven a polite smile and walked back to her seat, which was near the edge of the table. 

“I feel strange here,” Mare whispered to Maven, as the table suddenly got filled with all kinds of foods. 

“Me too,” he whispered back. A small pressure released from Mare’s shoulders, knowing she wasn’t alone in her feelings of inadequacy. 

Eagerly, students started filling theri plates, and she did the same, helping herself to Turkey and a very colorful salad. This must be the most appetizing food she’d seen in her life, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. 

As the start-of-term feast went on, the six first years of Slytherin chatted eagerly about the train ride and what the hat had said and how happy they were to be placed in the best house. For some, it was a family tradition, almost. Sonya and Maven both said they felt kind of good for going out of their family’s norm. Mare didn’t speak much, but still she could feel a tight bond of loyalty forming between her and her housemates, no matter their differences. Maybe she’d make a place for herself here, after all. She had to. 

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 53 - The Patronus Charm

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 4,406

Summary: Yato begins teaching the Patronus Charm with surprising results.

Thank you @kiun​​ for beta-ing me

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

Yato’s last class on a Thursday afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures with the sixth year students.

The class trailed behind Kuraha to their next creature hidden within the forest, with Bishamon walking ahead of Yato. This was the only class that the two of them shared alone as Kazuma hadn’t chosen Creatures as an elective, but it seemed Yato and Bishamon had a small friendship growing from their Defence training.

Kuraha picked up a bucket from outside his little groundskeeper hut as he passed. He didn’t stop as they neared the paddocks which was filled with Jackalopes, which were basically horned rabbits.

He led them further into the forest where it became more shadowy and into a small, empty clearing. Dead leaves littered the ground and every shade of darkening auburn hung over their heads as the autumnal leaves continued to fall.

Here, they were introduced to something Yato had never seen before.

Yato watched the creatures move, their hooves scuffing up the bracken and fallen leaves. At a glance they seemed to be a type of winged horse, like a Pegasus, but further inspection revealed something far more sinister.

Its skeletal body was covered by a smooth but thin black coat which defined every bone as they walked around the glade. Two leathery wings sprouted from each wither on their backs and folded at their sides, extending every now and then as they flexed. They easily had the same wingspan of a Hippogriff but lacked feathers and flesh under their impressive structure.

The face was the most unusual as they did not have an equine resemblance. Their faces were leathery and worn like their wings, dragon-like with a hooked beak at the end of its long snout. Milky-white pupil-less eyes directed their attention to Yato, and Yato understood why anyone would be afraid if they saw this creature.

“These are Thestrals,” Kuraha said. He dumped the bucket on the ground and a wet sloshing filled the air.

The class looked at him, confused.

“They are social creatures which is why there is a herd – not that you can see them,” Kuraha said gruffly. “Only those who have seen death are able to see them.”

The class shifted, eyeing each other to work out who was able to see them. Not many people had experience with death nor seen it first-hand, but in Yato’s case, he could see them clear as day.

Unbeknownst to Yato, Bishamon could see them too.

Whilst the rest of the class couldn’t see these creatures that lurked before them, Kuraha could easily demonstrate their existence.

He reached into the bucket and pulled out huge slabs of dripping meat and threw them into the air before the class. Invisible forces snapped up the heavy steaks instantly and bird-like screeches sounded from nowhere as the steaks were torn apart before their eyes.

“Those shrieks you’re hearing are the Thestrals communicating with each other.” Kuraha picked up some more slabs and threw them into the frenzy. “Thestrals can also be trained to understand a rider when asked to travel somewhere specifically.”

Kuraha wiped his bloody hands on his slacks and looked at the class. His eyepatch covered one of his grey eyes which observed the confused but understanding faces of his students.

“They can understand you, and whether or not you’re a friend, so watch what you do around them. If they see you as a threat, they will attack.”

For a moment Kuraha’s good eye raked over the students, searching for those who could perceive the Thestrals. His gaze fell on two students at the far side of the group, their eyes clearly following a baby Thestral as it approached them.

Whilst Thestrals were eerily beautiful, they could not be appreciated by those who could not see them. Kuraha gestured for the students to follow him down a worn path which led to the outskirts of the forest where the paddocks were located, each class a new creature waiting for them.

Yato watched the Thestrals for a moment longer as the class began shuffling through the thick blanket of leaves that carpeted the forest floor. Yato turned to leave as the footsteps faded, but his eye caught on two things. The bucket of meat that Kuraha had left behind, and, first and foremost, Bishamon.

Yato paused. It wasn’t like her to wait up for him.

Yato placed his hands in his robe pockets and mooched his way over to Bishamon, feet kicking up rotting leaves and small twigs. However, Bishamon didn’t acknowledge him when he stopped beside her, her gaze fixated on something ahead.

The penny dropped as Yato turned his head; a Thestral was looking straight at him and Bishamon.

“You can see them too?” Yato asked. He sounded incredulous, which may have been rude given the circumstances one had to have been through to see a Thestral.

Bishamon nodded and the eye contact between her and the Thestral was broken. It turned away from the pair, wings flexing as it headed towards the far end of the clearing.

They watched the creatures in silence, observing the herd as they sniffed the ground for remnants of food and let out gentle shrieks.

Yato thought to himself about the tragic nature of a Thestral. Invisible to those who hadn’t seen death, their presence was a harsh reminder of lost loved ones and painful memories. It was a shame that someone had to see death to see these hauntingly beautiful creatures, and it was all the more tragic when someone their age could see them.

“Who did you see?” Yato hated himself the second he said it; what an insensitive question.

Surprisingly, Bishamon didn’t seem to mind answering. “My grandfather.”

They fell into silence once again. Bishamon didn’t need to ask Yato the same question; his person was Suzuha.

Yato wracked his brain for a less sensitive topic, but the only one that came to mind was what she had done in their last Defence training class. He’d yet to ask Kazuma about it, but if Bishamon was friends with him now, then it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“So… you and Kazuma?” Yato said slowly, testing the waters.

Bishamon smiled, eyes following a baby Thestral as it stumbled around and snapped at falling leaves. “We started dating in the summer. Our families have married a few times, to keep the bloodlines pure.”

Yato realised that she was talking about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. These were ancient families that were supposedly still ‘true pure-bloods’, and Bishamon was descended from one of them. However, it could be debated that there were no longer any pure blood families; some members would eventually marry half-bloods, Muggleborns and even Muggles as the generations passed.

Yato wondered if the idea of marriage had been considered by Bishamon’s and Kazuma’s families now that they were dating.

“Do you think your parents will want you to marry?” Yato asked. “Not Kazuma, per say, but into one of the twenty-eight families?”

“My parents died when I was a child.”

Bishamon’s short answer shocked Yato. He’d known her for six years and – whilst they fought for most of them – he never knew she had no parents.

They stood in silence, the hooves of the magical creatures surrounding them rustled the leaves as they wandered around the barren glade. The baby Thestral had become disinterested in catching leaves and looked around, eyes falling on Yato and Bishamon. It trotted over to them, flapping its wings and causing an updraft of burnt orange leaves to flutter at their feet. It eyed the pail of food at Bishamon’s side and snapped its beak with a small screech.

“Can I ask how they…?” Yato asked gently. He trailed off at the end to indicate that she didn’t have to answer such a personal question.

Bishamon remained quiet and reached into the bucket. She pulled out a slab of meat that dripped some blood onto the bracken and threw it towards the baby Thestral. It reared slightly on its hind legs and caught it, tearing it apart with its razor-sharp beak and swallowing large chunks whole.

After a second of watching the Thestral, Bishamon answered. “They died in the First Wizarding War, fighting for the Ministry with Professor Tenjin.”

Yato stared at her as she threw another piece of meat to a larger Thestral who had caught wind of the free food.

‘With Professor Tenjin…’ Her parents must have been in the Order of the Phoenix. Yato kept his mouth shut and looked away, hoping Bishamon would reveal more, but she didn’t.

“I was raised by what was left of my family afterwards, but mostly it was just me and the house staff who stayed around to look after me when my grandfather died,” Bishamon continued. “As an only child, it's my job to continue my parent’s legacy.”

It sounded wrong for Bishamon, only sixteen years old, to think that her job was to continue an outdated tradition in the name of family legacy, but Yato said nothing. It was her choice and hers alone if she wanted to honour her family tradition, and she didn’t need to be told that.

But finding out her parents were in the Order of the Phoenix just like Sakura’s, that was news to him.

Yato wondered how many more of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had joined Professor Tenjin’s Order of the Phoenix, and whether or not Sakura had reached out to them. Bishamon seemed clueless about its existence, but if she knew that her parents joined the Order – and who they truly fought for – then maybe she would continue that legacy fighting the Sorcerer. He would have to ask Sakura, but since she had recruited Yukine and Hiyori as his friends, Yato would ask her to do the same for Kazuma and Bishamon.

Bishamon interrupted Yato’s train of thought in a gentle voice. “I believe you. About the Sorcerer.”

Yato looked at Bishamon, and she gave him a small, genuine smile. She had never done that before. “If you need anything, you can always ask.”

Yato nodded his head duly, not knowing what to say aside from ‘Thanks’.

Bishamon’s hair fluttered in the slight breeze as she stepped forward, carefully petting the baby Thestral which protested her departure loudly.

Yato scooped up the empty pail, throwing a glance at Bishamon with a light smile. Today, he’d seen a side to her that he hadn’t seen before, and their rivalry had ended.

After all, a friend was better than a foe.

~

Sakura was right when she said they were on their own.

On Monday morning, a framed sign appeared on the stone wall beside the Great Hall which caught the attention of all students who had come down for breakfast. A crowd had gathered quickly, all staring at the sign, which perplexed those who were too far away to see anything aside from the grey stones. Yukine was one of those students.

Yukine cursed under his breath and pushed his way through the crowd, bashing younger and smaller students unapologetically as they refused to budge. Hiyori and Yato were at the forefront of the crowd, faces stony.

“What’s going on?” Yukine asked. He looked at Yato for an answer, but Yato wore a scowl as his eyes scanned the sign for the hundredth time.

 Yukine turned his attention to the framed parchment and read the cursive font.

Proclamation: Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four

All Student Organisations are henceforth disbanded

Any student in noncompliance will be expelled

Yukine leant forward and squinted at the smaller text underneath, which was half covered by Professor Oshi’s signature and a seal from the Ministry of Magic.

“’Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Oshi)’,” Yukine read under her breath. “’No Student Organisation may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor, punishable by expulsion.’”

Shit.

Yukine looked at Yato and Hiyori, lost for words. Professor Oshi banned all clubs for no reason… or did she have a reason?

Hiyori caught Yukine’s eye and nudged her head to the side. Yukine took the hint and began making his way out of the crowd; they needed to go somewhere private to talk. Hiyori tugged on the sleeve of Yato’s robe, towing him out of the crowd behind Yukine. They made their way down the corridor and the crowd behind them started dispersing into the Great Hall, eager for breakfast, as the trio followed Yukine into an empty classroom.

As soon as the door shut behind them, they let out frustrated sighs.

“How did she find out?” Yukine hissed.

“Someone must’ve seen us,” Yato ran a hand through his hair. He was beyond irritated. They had been so careful…

“She might not know…” As soon as she said it, Hiyori knew it was a stupid idea. Why else would Professor Oshi disband all student groups?

“She can’t do this, can she?” Yukine asked. He looked at Yato for an answer, who paced the room annoyedly. After a moment he came to a stop, and the room quietened.

“Oshi is only a teacher because the Minister passed an Educational Decree to appoint her for a vacant teaching post that the Headmaster couldn’t fill,” Yato said.

They knew the vacant position was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and whilst it was true they had a bad streak of teachers, it was obvious that the Ministry had placed Oshi in Hogwarts to spy on Professor Tenjin.

“Why isn’t Professor Tenjin stopping her?” Hiyori asked. “He is the Headmaster.”

Yato shook his head. “Tenjin probably can’t defy her if the Minister thinks he’s going to overthrow him. That will just prove it.”

“We aren’t going to stop,” Yukine announced. He turned to Yato, green eyes flashing with burning passion and anger. “You said so yourself that you would train us when the Ministry banned practical magic.”

Yato nodded, felling Hiyori’s eyes on him expectantly. “I did.”

“Then train us!” Yukine exclaimed.

Deep down, Yukine knew that Yato, Hiyori, nor any of the other students would let something like a disband stop them, not when so much was at stake. The scars – mental and physical – gave him cause to continue to fight, and he wouldn’t stop until justice was done.

“We are Hogwarts’ Order of the Phoenix,” Yukine declared. “We will protect ourselves.”

~

October slipped by and November brought snowfall to the castle. The Quidditch teams had been allowed to reform after Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four was enforced, but Yato, Hiyori and Yukine were thankful that they didn’t have to play through the cold season.

Wintery snow drifts began to pile in the windowsills and hallway arches, refusing to melt in the cold sunshine air. The dusting of snow led to most students wrapping themselves up in their house scarves, woollen hats jammed on their head and fingers stiff with cold as they tried to put on gloves.

The warmth of the castle kept the students warm in their classrooms, but the Room of Requirement struggled to keep out the cold as the tower was surrounded by nothing but sky. Yato and Yukine decided to steal some logs from the woodpile outside Kuraha’s hut and bring them up to the classroom before their training session, igniting the fireplace for the first time that year. 

Hiyori shivered as the first wave of warmth hit her as she entered the Room of Requirement. The snow had melted on her clothing as she made her way upstairs, leaving her damp and frozen, but the sound of a crackling fire was welcomed.

Hiyori pulled off her hat and scarf as she crossed the room to the fireplace, meandering her way through the few students who had arrived before her.

Yato and Yukine stood before the hearth warming their hands, a few more logs piled next to the firepit waiting to be added. Yato noticed Hiyori approaching and offered a greeting, moving to the side so Hiyori could get in next to the fire.

They had hung their sopping wet hats, scarves, gloves and robes next to the fireplace on some hooks that she hadn’t noticed, and Hiyori followed suit. Shrugging off her robe, Hiyori tutted when she saw the wet patches that had leaked through onto her jumper. Hopefully, the fire would dry them off before dinner.

Hiyori held her hands out to the fire and shivered again. “I wish they would move Herbology out of the greenhouses in the winter.”

Yukine smirked; Hufflepuffs didn’t have Herbology with Gryffindors since the greenhouses were too small. “Steal some of the gardening gloves, they’ll keep your hands warm and dry.”

“I’m not going to steal, Yukine,” Hiyori scolded.

Yukine shrugged. “Your loss.”

They stood around the fireplace, allowing other waterlogged students to huddle around the fire and warm up a bit before they started class. Defence training was going well, and they had begun to breach new topics. One that Yato was adamant to teach before the Christmas break was the Patronus Charm.

By the time the last students had trickled in, class was beginning. They took their places around the class spread out from the others, wands in hand.

Yato stood at the head of the room in front of the fireplace, arms behind his back. The flames backlit his figure and shadows of snowfall beyond the lattice windows filtered across his face. In that moment Hiyori could see that his confidence and command of the room had grown.

When Yato stood before them, they knew class was in session.

“A Patronus acts like a shield against a Dementor, using a positive force that the Dementor can feed on instead of its caster,” Yato echoed the words Professor Daikoku had told him about the Patronus charm. “To cast this charm, you need a happy, powerful memory.”

Yato looked around the class, finding Hiyori and Yukine within the crowd a short distance away from Kazuma and Bishamon.

“Close your eyes.”

The class closed their eyes.

“Find a happy memory.”

The crackle of flames licking at splintering logs in the fireplace seemed deafening. Not a whisper nor breath could be heard as they searched their memories for their happiest moments.

For Bishamon, her happiest memory was her first Quidditch Cup victory, whereas Kazuma’s was his first date with Bishamon to the Quidditch World Cup. Yukine’s was his first kiss with Suzuha in the greenhouses, and for Hiyori, it was the entirety of the Yule Ball.

“Now speak the incantation, ‘Expecto Patronum’.”

“Expecto Patronum,” the class echoed.

“Focus on the memory, open your eyes, and cast the spell.”

In near unison the class uttered the spell, wands raised. Some wands glowed with a hint of white light at the tip, others did not. The voices became disjointed as the class uttered the spell over and over, more forcefully as they willed their Patronus into existence.

Yato began pacing around the room, examining the way wands were held silently. He couldn’t really do anything to help aside from telling them to find a happier memory, as Daikoku had told Yato.

However, it wasn’t long before someone conjured it.

The first Patronus to emerge was a blur of a tail as it ran overhead. Excited gasps rang out as a few students stopped and turned, their own wand tips dying out as their attention was diverted.

Yato caught a glimpse of a Golden Retriever leaving a trail of whispery silvery-blue as it raced across the air, bounding in manic circles across the length of the room. It surged downwards and wove between the forest of legs, tongue lolling, before it hurled itself straight at Kazuma.

Kazuma grunted at the force of a would-be 30-kilogram dog slamming into his chest, wand and glasses clattering to the ground and knocking him off his feet. Concentration gone and disarmed, the excitable Patronus faded in an instant to the applause of Kazuma’s fellow trainees.

Bishamon picked up Kazuma’s glasses which – miraculously – had survived the fall, and handed them back to him on the ground. Kazuma wheezed a ‘thank you’ and picked himself up, Ravenclaw tie askew.

With that, the class redoubled their efforts.

Within minutes, whispery trails had poured from wands and formed into half-formed Patronus’ or even fully formed ones. Kazuma rendered his own once again, attempting to control the rambunctiousness and avoiding getting knocked over again.

Yato watched as something slithered out of a Ravenclaws’ wand and writhed in the air, shaking itself violently as if to fend off a predator. If Yato didn’t know any better, he’d say it was a worm.

What a tragically funny Patronus.

Bishamon conjured her Patronus next, and to everyone’s astonishment, it matched the crest of Gryffindor. If he thought about it, it wasn’t much surprise that Bishamon had a lion; she was a true Gryffindor after all.

The lion roared and shook its mane, sending sparkles shimmering down on Bishamon as she grinned up at the majestic beast that paced above her head.

Kazuma’s mouth was agape as the lion paced towards his seemingly much smaller Patronus dog, worried it may tear the poor pooch apart. However, the golden retriever didn’t seem to understand that he may have been in danger. It wiggled playfully in a bow at the lion, pawing the air every now and then as it jumped around in circles in front of the unimpressed big cat.

After a moment, the lion swiped a big paw at the dog, the way in which a cat might bat at a pest. Bishamon laughed, and Kazuma smiled when he saw their Patronuses interacting. Golden retrievers were loyal, and he liked to think that said something about his character.

The class tripled its effort at seeing another Patronus – and a lion at that – appear before them playing with the Golden Retriever.

However, Hiyori couldn’t seem to get past a bright white light on the tip of her wand as she focused hard on her memory. Yato wandered over to her and cast a glance at Yukine who also seemed to be struggling.

Hiyori didn’t seem to notice Yato, too intent on conjuring her Patronus that she didn’t see him watching her closely. Even though he couldn’t help her memory, he could encourage her.

Yato came up behind Hiyori and gently covered her hand with his own, guiding the wand upwards.

Hiyori barely flinched, although she would admit her concentration wavered at the feeling of Yato’s warm skin on hers. She could sense his face next to hers, eyes on the space ahead where she willed her Patronus to appear.

“Concentrate,” Yato said softly.

Hiyori’s Patronus burst forth as soon as Yato uttered the word in her ear, electrifying her senses and giving a surge of energy to her spell. It appeared similar to Kazuma’s at first, dog-like and shaggy, until it tipped its head back and let out a long howl.

A wolf, Yato said to himself.

He smiled and looked at Hiyori, but she was focused on her Patronus with a small, shy smile. She may have been blushing, but then again, her cheeks may be rosy from the heat of the room.

Yato turned to help Yukine, but it seemed he had managed to make his memory strong enough to reveal his Patronus.

His wand trailed thin smoke-like wisps that created a small cloud above his head. Yukine watched excitedly as it formed, hoping it would be something as strong as a wolf or a lion.

Two ears sprung up and its head popped up, alert and curious. Its stout, chubby body reared on its strong hindlegs, paws on its tummy and nose twitching as it looked around.

It was… a rabbit.

“Are you serious?! Hiyori gets a wolf and I’m a fucking bunny?!” Yukine raged. He wanted something fierce, not the Easter Bunny.

“Well, you do kinda remind us of an angry bunny, Puff,” Yato chided, using an old nickname he had given Yukine when they’d first met.

Yukine flipped him off with his free hand in response, looking at his cute Patronus forlornly. Hiyori couldn’t hide her smile when Yukine pouted angrily.

The class continued, with most students being able to form some sort of shield or even a bodily Patronus form. Yato instructed those who couldn’t to find more memories they could try in the next session, reassuring them that he had tried a few memories before he had been able to use the spell.

The class picked up their bags and clothing as they filtered out of the Room of Requirement slowly. Yukine kept watch as students filtered out in small groups to ensure that no one was watching, the fear of expulsion a genuine concern for some of the younger years if they were caught in a secret society.

Hiyori wrapped her scarf around her neck and threw her warm robe over her arm, stuffing her gloves into the pockets. A smattering of students remained in the room, waiting their turn to leave.

Yato was talking quietly to Bishamon and Kazuma were in the centre of the room. After a moment, Yato collected his things from the fireplace and joined Hiyori by the door as the final group of students slipped out and down the hallway.

“Ready?” Hiyori asked.

Yato hummed in agreement and Hiyori slipped out of the door. Yato caught the door and looked behind to call out to Kazuma and Bishamon to hurry up, but he closed his mouth quickly and slipped out of the door.

Yato let the door close softly so as to not disturb them. Yato turned, trying to get the image of what he had just seen out of his head and faced Hiyori and Yukine, who had come back from his watch-post.

Hiyori was filtering through her satchel and robes, hair curtaining her face as she searched for something.

“What’s wrong?” Yukine asked.

“I left my hat on the fireplace,” Hiyori answered.

She stepped around Yato and placed a hand on the door handle. Yato caught her arm before she could open the door.

“I wouldn’t go back in there if I were you,” Yato advised.

Hiyori paused, hand still on the door handle and looked at Yato quizzically. “Why?”

Yato smirked.

Hiyori didn’t see, but when Yato had turned to call Kazuma and Bishamon, he’d noticed a sprig of mistletoe emerging from the cracks in the ceiling and dangle above the couple.

“Because Kazuma and Bishamon are making out.”

[ruewrites]

Craving Affection Chapter 3: A Weekend

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 1829

Warnings: None

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3

Asmo wasn’t as enthusiastic as he usually was walking into RAD that morning. Usually good morning texts from Solomon would make him perk up, but today they made the yearning in his being that much stronger. He wanted to reach through the screen and just be with him. The demon was out of it, extremely out of it. So out of it in fact that he almost didn’t notice the sweet treat on his desk. It was frozen and pink with red syrup swirling up the edged to perfectly applied whip cream on top. Tiny pink, yellow and blue sprinkles laid on top of the whipped cream in between pink sparkling dust.  Picking up the drink he noticed a note underneath.

Stopped by that coffee shop you like so much this morning.

Thought it might be something you like.

Asmo couldn’t help the smile and blush that spread across his face as he brought the straw to his lips. That wasn’t the only gift he received that day either. Throughout the day he found little presents in his areas. From pink flowers, to small candies, and small things that Asmo enjoyed.  Each gift was accompanied by a note from his sorcerer complimenting some aspect of him or just sweet nothings. By the end of the day Asmodeus had a bouquet full of pink dahlias, hyacinths, carnations, and orchids with another note inviting him over to Purgatory Hall with things he needed for a weekend.

-Solomon

Asmodeus had never packed an overnight bag faster in all of his life.

Solomon didn’t even get a chance to open the door before the Avatar of Lust was throwing himself at him and crashing their lips together. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me,” his sorcerer teased when Asmo finally pulled back to let him breathe. His arms were tight around his middle and Asmo was enjoying being held close.

“I felt like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Asmo said, almost breathless, he buried his face in his neck and smiled, “Thank you, for all of the lovely presents.”

“I haven’t really been able to give you the attention you deserve as of late, so I wanted to make it up to you now.”

Asmo pulled away and looked up at him quizzically, “And Luke and Simeon?” He had gotten Solomon’s attention stolen from him so much, he wasn’t about to get his hopes up that it wouldn’t happen again.

“Gone to stay at Diavolo’s Castle for the weekend.. So I promise that this weekend will belong to you and you alone,” Solomon smiled. His hand left the small of Asmo’s back in favor of his cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb.”Come in? I was thinking we could order out. Your pick.”

How could Asmodeus say no?

It was the little things about Solomon that made his heart throb. The fact that he knew exactly how the demon liked his tea, how he knew where his comfy spot was when they cuddled, or how he could guess exactly what he wanted when he did nothing but name a place.  

“Have I told you how witty you are lately? Or that you’re funny?” Solomon cooed, running his hands up and down Asmo’s back, “Or how much I absolutely adore you Asmodeus?”

“Hmmm. I don’t recall. Remind me?”

Solomon was warm, and the hum that ran through his chest was such a lulling sound. “Well, I’ve never met someone quite like you. You’re extremely special to me. You’re so fun loving and you have such an eye for beautiful things. I suppose it does take something so beautiful to recognize true beauty.”

“Solomon! Oh you’re so sweet to me!” Asmodeus didn’t even have to register that Solomon was bringing him into a kiss. They melted together so easily, it was almost like they were made for each other. Of course when they pulled away Solomon wasn’t quite done smothering him yet. Taking his demon’s hand, Solomon kissed his knuckles, the back of his hand, the inside of his palm. His movements were slow and meticulous. Asmodeus let out a tiny trill of delight.

“It’s what you deserve my adored Asmodeus,”  he purred in between kisses. Nuzzling the inside of his palm, he looked up at Asmo, “I would give you so much more if I could. If I were able to, I’d have you by my side every waking moment.”

“Oh Solomon -”

“I mean it. I swear.” A smirk crossed his sorcerer’s lips as he leaned in close next to his ear. “May I show you Asmodeus?”

Asmo shuddered and nodded, leaning into Solomon, “Yes, you may.”

The sorcerer grinned and shifted his position. Hooking his arms underneath Asmo’s legs and tried to stand. “Wait, wait! Oh shit, this is… harder when I’m not already standing up,” he chuckled.

“Don’t hurt yourself! It would be my luck to spend our weekend in a hospital.”

“Don’t worry, I think I got it.” It took three attempts and a lot of giggling before the two were finally making their way to the bedroom. Asmo learned it was a little hard to be his boyfriend’s eyes when said boyfriend was nipping at his neck and laughing.

As they approached the door, Asmo stuck his hand back, fumbling with the doorknob. Why did the door have to be shut?

“Need help?”

“Solomon if you drop me I swear I will never forgive- Oh! Got it!”

As soon as they reached Solomon’s bed, Asmo let go of his neck and allowed his upper body to fall back onto the bed, legs wrapping around his sorcerer’s waist. Solomon’s arms braced on either side of him as he delivered more kisses. One hand moved to his jacket and tugged at the zipper. Soon both sets of hands were on the other, tugging off fabric and not caring where it landed. Laughter was still breaking through every now and again, even through prep.

“Fuck I’ve missed us,” Asmo sighed, honey colored eyes gazing up at Solomon, “You’re just too- Oh!” Well, it’s good to see that Solomon hadn’t forgotten where that was. He tilted his head back and let out a sweet moan as the tips of Solomon’s fingers brushed against that wonderful spot while stretching him open. “ Baby , I-ah~ I’m ready, I’m ready for you.”

Solomon nodded and removed his fingers. Asmo couldn’t help but whimper at the sudden loss, but he knew his sorcerer wouldn’t make him wait long, not when he was the focus.  He watched with hungry eyes as Solomon took the lube bottle in his hands and coated his cock. It was such a pretty sight, watching how his brow threaded together, the gasps falling from his lips. Then he felt the tip press against him. “Ready Asmodeus?” he asked.

Asmo’s heart fluttered.

“Ready my darling.”

Solomon nodded and pushed it. Asmo gasped and gripped the bedsheets, and arched slightly off the bed. The sorcerer watched his demon, concern on his face. Even if he was the Avatar of Lust, Solomon still couldn’t stop the worry from creeping over him.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Asmo responded quickly, noting the concern, “I just needed a moment to adjust to you.” He caressed Solomon’s face, brushing a few white strands of hair to the side. “Now why don’t you fuck me like you mean it?”

Solomon chuckled and pulled his hips back before snapping forward. Asmo’s hands flew to Solomon’s shoulders, claws digging into human flesh. Of course the sorcerer didn’t forget who this was for and made sure to find that sweet spot once more as fast as he could. “ Fuck Solomon ,” Asmo whimpered, “ Right there . Just- Just keep doing what you’re doing, please. ”

How could he ever dream about stopping. Asmo felt Solomon’s lips connect with his neck. He tilted his head to the side, giving his lover more access to trail up and down his neck until he found a spot he found suitable. Asmo’s grip tightened on Solomon as he sucked on his neck and another moan escaped him. He could feel Solomon’s pace quicken as his one hand went down to start stroking Asmo off. His mouth unlatched from the demon’s neck to whisper in his ear, “Are you going to cum for me?”

Asmo let out a whimper, “Solomon, please, make me. Make me cum~”

Asmodeus felt their lips connect and Solomon continued to thrust into his lover until his movements became less controlled before stuttering to a halt. He didn’t let Asmo go until the demon was crying out and spilling onto his hand. Solomon chuckled and lifted the hand up to his face, licking it clean before kissing Asmo again, “I love you.”

“I love you too my darling,” Asmo sighed, returning a kiss of his own.

The bath afterwards felt just as satisfying. The water was warm and filled with bubbles to Asmo’s content. It wasn’t stuff that Solomon liked to use, but if Asmo was happy, so was he. Having his sorcerer behind him helping threading his fingers through his hair and gently running over his skin. Of course Asmodeus couldn’t resist turning around and helping the other wash his hair (even if water spilled out onto the floor, it could always be cleaned up later). As they dried off Asmo couldn’t help but trace over the pact mark. His pact mark. It earned him even more kisses from his favorite sorcerer that continued well into when they were curled up together, Asmodeus in his pink satin robe and Solomon in a black t-shirt and sweatpants.

Solomon was recounting the story that Satan had lent him, not leaving out a single bit of his own commentary in between the story. At one point, Asmo couldn’t help but tilt his chin downward and kiss him, “I do love you. A lot. And I missed you. I missed just this, even if it wasn’t long since the last time.”

“I love you too, and if you ever doubt it I won’t hesitate to remind you how I feel,” Solomon assured, playing with the damp ends of his hair, “You never have to fight for my attention either, you know you only have to ask.”

Asmodeus blushed and leaned in closer. He really should have known. He felt silly now that he had ever been trying so hard to get Solomon’s attention. “I know… I’m happy I get to spend a weekend with you. Just the two of us. I can never get enough of my time with you.”

He watched his sorcerer smile and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I know my darling, I can’t wait to spend the next few days with you. Maybe we could schedule another weekend.”

Asmodeus liked the sound of that. Weekends with Solomon sounded like something out of a dream. It was domestic, sickeningly so, but he didn’t mind. Any time spent with Solomon was beautiful, and Asmodeus cherished every second.

[church-of-lavorre]

(Ignore this ask if the "only one of these types of questions per person" rule is in play) 6, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 for the Tiberius/Caleb/Essek poly ship please cause I love these dorky spellcasters as a ship.

ask as many times as you’d like! i love writing headcanons and Tiberius/Caleb/Essek is a fun dynamic!

6) do i have any fankids for this ship?

well, until your first ask i hadn’t really thought about it! shadowgast didn’t feel like the sort of pairing where they’d want children, the two of them being more focused on study and research than family but with the inclusion of Tiberius i can definitely see them as parents! as of right now, i have 2 fankids for WidoStormHand, a boy and a girl. the little girl is named Kiva and has a mowgli-jungle book-esque vibe about her, she’s a baby half-elf druid that they stumbled upon one day while researching some ancient ruins. Tiberius couldn’t stand the thought of her being out in the world all alone so he got Caleb to use Frumpkin to calm her down; Essek allowed Caleb and Tiberius to bring Kiva home but kept saying that she couldn’t stay with them and that they’d have to find her a family soon that could take care of her properly and give her a childhood. of course, it never actually happened and it was only when Kiva was 14 that Essek realised that he’d never actually made true on his threats to give her to a family that could take care of her and, at this point, he loved her too much to bear the thought of sending her away. being a druid, Kiva’s magic was at the other end of the spectrum to Tiberius and Caleb’s so she spent most of her days learning magic with Essek or Caduceus when he could spare the time. she calls Caleb ‘Papa’, Tiberius ‘Dad’ and Essek ‘Father’. the boy’s name is August and he’s a human sorcerer; Caleb went to the empire for a short period of time to sort some things out and, while in Rexxentrum, had August attempt to pick his pocket. used to how sticky fingered Veth is, Caleb recognised the tug of someone going through his coat and caught August by the hand. Releasing a burst of bright light directly into Caleb’s face, August ran for it but Caleb soon tracked him down and asked where he’d learned to do that. August explained that he didn’t know, Caleb asked where his parents were and August admitted that they’d abandoned him so Caleb offered for August to come back to Roshona with him, the little boy agreeing. Essek and Tiberius hadn’t been expecting their boyfriend to come home with a child but the way that August clung to Caleb’s coat and looked at the two shyly had them warm up to him almost immediately. Kiva was confused as to where this little boy had come from and why he now had the room next to hers but she soon got used to the idea of having a little brother and they proceeded to steal any shreds of sanity their parents might have had left. when Caleb brought August home, Kiva was 12 and August was 5.

12) who brings home a bunch of rescue animals and who has to send them back?

Caleb, with his love of cats, once adopted 17 cats from the local animal shelter and tried to convince Essek that they were all the same cat, just really fast and of the faerie variety like Frumpkin. Essek knew that something was up but didn’t question it because Tiberius had yet to realise that not only did they have 2 children but they had an over abundance of cats. it took 2 months for Tiberius to realise the cats, but only after he tripped over one while reading and sipping a mug of coffee, spilling the coffee down his robe and all over his book. Tiberius loved animals, after all he had traveled for quite a while with Trinket, but once he’d become aware of the cats it was hard for him to ignore the way their fur stuck to everything and the incessant, never ending meowing so he put his foot down and said that they had to go. Caleb tried desperately to convince his boyfriends to let him keep all the cats but his pleas fell on deaf ears because Essek had long since gotten sick of the cats.

14) who gets cold and who offers them their jacket?

Caleb, being the fragile human that he is, often forgets how cold it gets in Roshona. Essek is used to plummeting temperatures and Tiberius has a naturally high core temperature, it comes with being a red dragonborn, so neither of them are as bad with the cold as Caleb. out of the three of them, Essek is generally the only one wearing cloaks to spare, Tiberius almost always forgetting to put one on before leaving because he’s so scatterbrained but also because he’s always warm, so he has to lend them to Caleb when the human starts to feel the chill. on the rare occasions that Tiberius actually has a cloak, Caleb prefers to steal his because it’s already very very warm from the dragonborn’s body temperature but taking Tiberius��� cloaks always end in a long lecture from the dragonborn about human body temperatures, fragility, the human immune system, weather patterns and meteorology. Essek doesn’t mind when this happens but Caleb sometimes does as all he wants is the cloak and Tiberius hasn’t given it to him yet because he’s talking so passionately.

15) who tucks who into bed after a long night of studying?

Essek and Tiberius are able to study for hours without needing sleep, though Essek as an elf always outlasts Tiberius but Tiberius can stay awake for a disturbingly long amount of time. Caleb always falls asleep first, his boyfriends letting him nap on the books as they keep studying for a little while before Tiberius gets excited about something and his voice raises considerably, almost shocking Caleb awake. at this point, Essek carries Caleb off to bed and tucks him in with a kiss on the forehead before returning to Tiberius in the library. they’ll spend a while discussing Tiberius’ find before Caleb appears in the doorway, hair sleep mussed, and demands that the two of them get their asses to bed because he’s cold.

16) who organises most of the dates?

Tiberius! Tiberius likes doing nice things for his boyfriends and always goes to great lengths to organise the best dates possible whether it be the three of them going on a picnic or getting Beau to let them into one of the Cobalt Soul libraries through a transportation circle and some fast talking. no matter what they do or where they go, Tiberius always makes sure to include elements of discovery and learning things in the dates because nothing is more fun than a little debate between himself and two of the most beautiful magical minds he’s ever met.

17) who gets them banned from their favourite restaurant and why?

this one was both Caleb and Tiberius’ fault though neither of them will accept that they had any part in it. sick of cooking, Essek made a reservation at their favourite restaurant in Roshona, at their favourite table overlooking the koi pond, and had both his boyfriends dressed nicely by 6:30 so they would arrive on time. they got to the restaurant, sat down and Caleb, unintentionally, summoned Frumpkin who was set purring around his shoulders. a waiter came over and notified the trio that animals weren’t allowed in the establishment and if they would be so kind as to remove it they could continue their evening. immediately, Tiberius stood up, throwing his chair back into the pond and demanded to know what the waiter’s issue was with the cat. the poor waiter just tried to explain that this was a restaurant and they could get shut down for having animals in there; still not understanding what the waiter was saying so the waiter went to get the owner of the restaurant. the owner tried to explain to Tiberius why Frumpkin couldn’t be in the restaurant, Essek behind him with his face in his hands and a tomato red Caleb. eventually calming Tiberius down, the owner went back to her work and so did the waiter. Caleb dismissed Frumpkin and the trio ate their meal in relative peace. as they were leaving the owner of the restaurant came up to them and politely asked that they never come back, Tiberius was furious but Essek immediately shut him up and replied with “trust me, we won’t be, i am so sorry”. Caleb then may or may not have bamfed Frumpkin into the kitchen of the restaurant and set all hell loose.

18) AUs i’ve seen for this ship?

i haven’t actually seen any AUs for this ship but i hope i start seeing some soon! if not, i’ll have to annoy some people until they do!

19) AUs i have for this ship?

i really like the idea of a college/university AU for Tiberius/Essek/Caleb. Caleb being brand new and in his first year of uni while Tiberius is a teachers assistant and one of the RAs in Caleb’s dorm. Essek is this genius student who is studying like 20 degrees at once and struggles with social interaction, Tiberius is completely unaware that Essek is in his form until he’s helping Caleb move in, opens a door and finds Essek sitting in almost complete darkness reading the biggest damn book he’s ever seen. for the first couple of months, no matter how hard he tries to interact with Essek, Caleb just can’t breach the other man’s walls. they have a couple of classes together and it turns out that one half of Caleb’s degree is the same as one of Essek’s. the entire time, Essek has been unable to communicate with Caleb because he goes into gay panic™️ whenever Caleb opens his mouth. still at a loss for how to make friends with Essek, Caleb goes to Tiberius and starts venting his concerns, the dragonborn trying and failing to provide emotional support. it’s fine though because Caleb finds this endearing. just before winter break, when caleb is planning on going home, Essek musters enough courage up to ask Caleb to get a coffee with him but he’s so awkward that he ends up inviting Tiberius along too, the dragonborn having been in the hallway at the same time to make sure anyone who needed to catch a train off campus was ready to go, having recognised him as the dorm RA and Caleb’s friend(?). the three go and get coffee, all of them very awkward at first until Tiberius starts rambling on about baking and chemistry and the importance of using the correct flour. soon, the three of them are in a deep conversation about molecular biochemistry (1/2 of Caleb’s double degree and one of Essek’s degrees) and quantum biomechanics (Tiberius’ degree and the other half of Caleb’s degree). from there the three of them fall in love! i just love the idea of that as an AU for them because they’re all so smart and i just wanna see the three magic boys as uni students! also, a hogwarts AU would be amazing! Essek and Caleb as Slytherins with Tiberius as their delightful Hufflepuff!

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Stray Dove 7: Jilt, Mercy, Forgiveness

Masterlist

Stray Dove Masterlist

Thor Odinson x Plus!Size Reader

Warnings: Angst!

A/N: Here we pickup after the Dark World and head straight into Ragnarok!

Words:+1,800

Jilt, a hasty emotion that can make one suddenly reject or abandon something or in this case someone at the discovery of utter betrayal, in this case such as faking ones death. Though when accompanied by mercy, mercy that is the ability for one to show compassion or forgiveness to once betrothed that is well within the gods ability to punish or harm, though he never stopped loving her. Thor forgave Y/N, though he wondered at times it felt that he was to readily able to do so at a moment’s notice, even impairing the love that he tried to force for Jane, but the god could never replace the love he still held for HIS fate with that of a mortal.

To be honest, fake dying hurt, it really did, but the pain didn’t in no way make it worth the effort, the second Thor left with Jane Y/N swore her soul bled, especially at the begging and pleading the god rambled into her ear as he held lifeless body tightly to him. Thor even snarling at Jane to stay back as he cradled Y/N close, carrying the lifeless fate to lay next to the body of Loki. Lying in soul crushing agony, screaming for the spell to be over to go hide, hoping the use of said spell would have given time for troubled mind to clear & accept the fact there was no going back to HER Thor after this.

Sitting up in the waste of the dark elves homeward, guts twisted painfully tight, Y/E/C orbs falling on Loki who had been watching her close, wondering if Y/N was about to break & leave him to do what he had planned alone. Watching the god get to his feet to help her up quickly & not expecting the fate to fall into his arms with black dust covered arms wrapping around lithe torso. In shock Loki finally returned the sentiment, dirty hand smoothing down disheveled hair & allowing the fate her second of insecurity, fists wrapping tightly in leather long coat.

Both returning to Asgard as einherjar when Y/N calmed enough to follow through with the plan Loki had outlined, the god asking kindly of the fate to accompany Odin to Midgard to assure he was safe. Y/N disguised as his private aid, that stood close to the aging gods side, giving Strange a run for his money when he came to them in the retirement home.

The sorcerer explaining, he had another place that he believed the older king would enjoy especially since he was regaining coherence, which had a lot to do with Y/N who slowly began to unwind the spell that Loki thought was fool proof, agreeing to accompany the old man to Norway.

“Sorry for condemning you Y/N,” the old king admitted to the fate both walking through the field, he had been saying that the past few days leading her to believe that he was possibly…

“I told you yesterday your majesty,” Y/N began before he cut her off.

“Odin, little fate, call me Odin,” he smiled, reaching to take sun kissed hand to lay in the crook of his elbow as they continued to the rock that he loved to sit on & look across the sea to reminisce on the old days.

“Odin, then,” Y/N smiled, enjoying having him coherent & able to hold a conversation.

“I hope you are ready for company,” the old man began as they took a seat, Y/N felling the energy coursing through the air knowing that this was what she had sensed for a long time coming staying close to Odin, both turning to look behind them to watch Loki flop on his belly & Thor laughing at least until recognizing Y/N & his father.

It was tense, the brawny god starting for them, the fate becoming nervous for the first time in a long time as she helped the old king get seated as his sons came forward, Y/N sure to step away from Thor because of the betrayal in his eyes & wasn’t wanting to suffer his wrath. Knowing they needed time with Odin because he didn’t have much longer a secret that she had purposefully kept from Loki.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me that you two where moved,” Loki berated the fate who stepped away from Odin glaring hard at the god of mischief who was quick to calm himself, remembering her temper.

“Mind your tongue Loki,” Y/N snarled under her breath, eyeing Thor closely as it seemed he wasn’t about to let her back away as he pushed around Loki to look her over, noting skin was no longer pale, sun kissed & looking like the maiden he had fallen for all those centuries ago.

“Dove, you….,” Thor began, reaching to take a hand, warm, soft hand that sat lightly in his calloused hand relishing in the feel before Y/N slowly took it away.

“Don’t be so surprised… I'm not her anymore,” Y/N murmured as the two locked gazes before pulling away to allow them to all speak to one another, but the gods sight barely left the thick framed fate that stood close to Odin.

The appearance of Hela just moments after Odin turned to golden ash had the god pulling Y/N close to him making sure to keep the fate safely between he & Loki. Y/N herself dropping her illusion to be clothed in black battle armor the god remembered from when they used to ride into battle. Odd that a memory such as that was making him forget about the impending doom that was now materializing in front of them as the goddess of death.

Nothing going as planned, screaming at Loki along with Thor to not call for the Bifrost all too late as they were sucked into the white light, a bruising grip around the gauntlet that still carried Thor’ seal. The god quick to pull Y/N in front of him & holding tight as they traveled the wave of light strong arms wrapping around thick middle as a dagger was flung at them. The two looking down in time to watch Loki retaliate only for the younger god to be pushed out of the Bifrost & Hela coming straight for them.

“I’ve got you dove,” Y/N heard whispered in her ear as they were pushed out of the Bifrost & into nothing.

Shocked that they both bounced on a hard surface seconds later that made both lose breath, the fate rolling out of the gods arms to get to shaky feet to survey the junk heap they had landed in. The fate quick to stagger out of reach of the god that got to his own shaky legs, he was reaching for Y/N even after all the Hel she was sure to put him through.

Why did the god cling to her so blindly, hadn’t she hurt him enough with all the Hel her tortured soul had inflicted on him? Shattered heart crushing to dust as the god reached for her blindly once more, to protect her & watching features falter as he realized Y/N truly cringed from him.

“Y/N, please, don’t fear me, stop fighting US to protect me,” Thor bellowed, impatience & anger getting the best of the god that was trying to cling onto the last bit of familiarity.

“NO! Why want you let me go,” Y/N snarled out as the two stood off, fingers twitching to run around the nape of strong neck to pull his lips to hers.

“Because I love you,” the god roared before they were distracted by the landing craft, Thor hurrying to protect Y/N who called her swords in preparation for the fight.

“You still have your seidr,” Thor began getting her attention as the doors to the craft opened but the fate looked at him in puzzlement of the statement.

“Of course I do… Thor…,” Y/N began anxiously watching the gods face over taken by a smile at the realization his name passed her lips, “I can’t leave you. You are…”

“I am your king & I command you to go find Loki. If we are here chances are he is to! Go,” Thor barked out the order in a manner the fate wasn’t allowed to ignore, a quick nod left the god alone in the group of mismatched creatures that were laughing as they came closer.

Cocking her head at how she found the god of mischief, standing at what appeared to be an extravagant bar reaching for a drink that was placed in front of him, in blue leathers & looking well considering how she & Thor had been tossed out of the Bifrost. Having conjured an elaborate gown to make herself fit in & hated it but it was a necessary evil. Sidling next to the raven-haired god to run a smooth hand around taught side & under the cape as if a whore looking for attention. Looking up into emerald orbs that quickly widened in shock that Y/N was standing next to him, leather clad arm falling around satin covered shoulders to pull her close protectively.

“Where did you come from pet,” Loki hushed, taking the drink in free hand to pull her away with him to a quiet corner.

“Out there in the waste, Thor & I both….,” Y/N began but he cut her off.

“How long have you been here,” Loki asked, looking around as if keeping an eye out for someone.

“An hour at the most? How long have you been…”

“An hour? I was pushed out weeks ago & you just arrived,” Loki sputtered, spotting someone & tugging the fate with him to take a seat on a shiny couch.

“I need you to listen to me close. Not a word,” Loki began.

“Not a word, Loki this….,” Y/N began, growing irritated with the god that continued to hold her close.

“As your ruler, not a word,” he bit out quickly, the fate cocking lose curled Y/H/C head at Loki pursing pale lips tightly together glaring at the god.

“No, you don’t get to pull that on me, I answer to one king & I am already following HIS order to come find you, so we can stop Ragnarök,” Y/N hushed/yelled, but it seemed Loki was prepared for what she had to say.

“Then as the rightful crowned prince & your charge I order you to hush & follow my lead,” Loki snapped back, obvious he hated to command Y/N like a servant but hadn’t a choice as the room began to become crowded, emerald gaze falling on a man in a long robe that mead her think of Hugh Hefner.

It seemed seconds later keen hearing picked up on the voice of Thor, quick to turn to look at the god sitting in a chair rigidly with the one explained as the Grandmaster looking him over like a prized fighter. The fate pinching Loki hard to get his attention, to which was quick to excuse himself with Y/N in tow.

Tags open! And re-blogs are ALWAYS welcomed!

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[roxywashere]

Eighth Wonder

Aradia Furst calls a summit of the most powerful people in the world

Aradia Johanna Christa Scomparsa-Prince-Furst was one of the most powerful women in the world, and not just in terms of influence or wealth, though she was very influential and wealthy. She was the confluence of two powerful magic bloodlines: the ancient Scomparsa witch bloodline and the almost as ancient Merlin/Le Fay bloodline.

Aradia was taught witchcraft from her mother Romana from as soon as she could speak, as was the ancient Scomparsa tradition, but when her Merlin-descended grandfather Robert Prince discovered her penchant for sorcery he began teaching her that as well. Her grandfather had learned to cast magic through martial techniques, but Romana forbade Robert teaching Aradia how to fight, so instead Robert taught her to cast through dance.

Aradia took to both disciplines with a skill rarely seen before. She never became as powerful a witch as her mother, or as powerful a sorcerer as her grandfather, but through both combined she surpassed nearly every magician of any kind on Earth. She learned dozens of other varieties of magic after dropping out of school to travel the world and learn from the masters of magic themselves.

Along the way, she picked up more traditional skills, and discovered an additional penchant for electrical engineering. She began experimenting with using minor spells to replicate electric circuits, and with using circuitry to act as hermetic geometry for casting spells. Through these endeavors she invented the field of Magitech.

She returned home at the wizened age of 23. She started a technology company with her father David and aunt Alice to design and sell her Magitech, and made billions in deals with the US government and various superhero organizations. When FursTech started selling to the public, it became a household name almost overnight. Aradia rocketed to the top of the list of wealthiest people in the world.

It was then that Aradia first made contact with Yggdrasil, an organisation of Demigods and Angels tasked with defending the Multiverse, and visited their home universe of New Jerusalem. The leader of Yggdrasil, the Archangel Roxanne, bore the name and face of Aradia’s other aunt, who had died of cancer before Aradia was even born. Roxanne explained the nature of the Multiverse to Aradia, and showed her that all of the fictions in her world were real events in others, and vice versa.

But all of that was well in the past. Aradia now was 82 years old, though thanks to both magical and spiritual training only looked 40, and more importantly only felt 20. She was tall, and wiry, and in the face she was the spitting image of her grandmother, Johanna Furst. She grew her brown hair long, well past her hips, though she often held it up in buns and braids so compact she needed to use magic to hold them together. Her eyes were a shining gold, the only obvious sign of her immeasurable ability.

She dressed almost exclusively in gold and black, primarily ornate dresses and robes, with gold and onyx jewelry, all the better to embrace her public perception as a powerful witch and sorceress.

On the night of the eve of the year 2101, Aradia meditated in her private workshop at the peak of FursTech Tower in Danesville, Wisconsin. She sat, cross-legged, three feet above the floor, with her robe hanging down into the empty space beneath her. She contemplated the events of the last week.

The Harlequin’s Rampage. The Salamanders’ Revenge. The Reappearance of the Demon King. The Approach of the Blackstar. The So-Called Death of Doctor Lazarus. Countless other smaller incidents.

She lamented how she had been at the Mansion of Jo Kerr a mere hour before the Harlequin had detonated a bomb underneath the mansion, killing nearly 300 people. She had aided Xena Noble in imprisoning the Salamanders in Xena’s mind. She had fought the Demon King in the desert of Eden alongside her grandfather, her aunt Alice's ex-wife Karen Reis, and the Archangel Roxanne. She had advised Astra in her ongoing preparations to face the Blackstar. She had bought out Lazarus’s laboratory and discovered the unholy things he had done in the name of achieving immortality.

Aradia had been at the center of a lot of events across 80 years of life. But this last week had set a new high for such events in rapid succession. It consternated her greatly.

She sighed and lowered her feet to the ground. She opened her eyes, and walked towards her workbench. She rapidly signed her spellpass and unlocked her computer, turning on a full room’s worth of holograms and illusions. She searched them for her digitized comic collection, and with a beckon of her hand she pulled that set of lights towards her. She scanned her collection for anything that could help her understand, and frustratingly found too many possible reasons.

Aradia, frustrated, thought about her next vector of approach to this problem. She contemplated going to the highest authority on metanarrative directly... She shook that thought off. She had vowed to never abuse her greatest powers in such a trivial manner. But would it be trivial? If Aradia’s bad feeling actually amounted to something, it would indeed be wise to ask for aid. She had just given that advice to Astra not 5 days ago.

Aradia silently crossed herself, and then muttered her summoning incantation. “Forgive me, Paragon of Light, but I wish to ask for advice.” Despite having whispered the request, Aradia’s summoning voice shook the room, and echoed long after she had silenced.

A handful of seconds later, a portal opened in the room. Through it Aradia saw the Archangel Roxanne, sitting at the foot of a lounger, on a beach, holding a golden remote in her hand. Beside her was her human wife, Karen Furst, a triple amputee holding a glass of ice water in her left hand, the only of her four organic limbs she had left. They were both in revealing bathing suits; Aradia knew that in their religion sunbathing was a popular form of worship to their all-powerful Sun-Goddess. Karen’s skin was covered in deep scars and well-tanned, but Roxanne’s was flawless and pale.

“What is it, Rad?” the Archangel asked, with a tone of familial concern. “What do you want to ask?”

“I... I have this immense feeling of dread. So much has happened this past week, and I don’t have an understanding why. I need help understanding what is happening. I need guidance.”

“Of course.” Roxanne turned to her wife, and told her “I’ll be right back.”

Karen shrugged and sipped her water. “I’ll be fine without you for a few minutes, I guess.”

Roxanne chuckled, and stood up, and walked through the portal. Once she had passed completely through, she pressed a button on the remote and the portal apertured shut. She sighed. “There has been a lot happening, in your world and mine. In New Jerusalem, there have been reported sightings of... me, in places I definitely was not at the times reported.”

“That sounds familiar,” Aradia noted. “It’s like when Alice started seeing you appearing in this world. Are these other yous avoiding interacting with you, like you did with Alice?”

“That’s the thing. One of them is. There’s more than one other me in my world. I met face to face with the other one, and while she did avoid speaking to me to avoid breaking the metanarrative, she did give me meaningful looks and acted like she had seen everything in that instance before. It’s not unreasonable to assume she’s the future me.”

“But what about the other one?”

“That’s where the reports become deeply troubling. The other has been invariably sighted coated in a permanent layer of blood, dried and fresh. Witnesses claim she has the crimson eyes of a Demon. Both of them, they are an order of magnitude more powerful than me at least. They tear through Adamantium with an ease I can’t. They even have the Touch-Telekinesis that I frustratingly never developed.” Aradia knew that that was saying something. She had seen Roxanne rip through a plate of Adamantium like it was a piece of cardboard.

“And how do you know this?” Aradia asked, already knowing the answer.

“Exactly. These two other me’s have been coming to my homeworld to fight. Or, one of them has, and the other is there to drag the first away.”

“Well, my problem seems insignificant now. You’ve got a War of the Gods on your hands. All I’ve got is a spike in supervillain activity in one city.”

“That’s nothing to shake a stick at, though. With your world’s scale of supervillains that still threatens the lives of millions if nothing is done. It warrants bringing together Astra’s League.”

Aradia hesitantly started casting the spell to summon the other League members, bringing up an illusion of a big red button, but stopping just short of pressing it. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not a member, you are. You make the choice.”

“You’re only not a member because your purview falls above ours. Astra deemed our problems smaller than your Doctrine of Multiversal Protection.”

“Even so, I will not make you press the button.”

Aradia thought deeply about her bad feeling. Was this really an omen of upcoming events? Or was it Aradia overthinking a brief rise in activity? The Metanarrative could swing either way, and Aradia knew that.

Aradia closed her eyes, and pressed the holographic button.

Astra’s League had 50 official members, of which 12 were deceased. The rest of them all fit handily in Aradia’s spacious workshop. Aradia, as the one who summoned the rest, stood at the center of the circle of extraordinarily powerful superheroes.

“The last week in this city has seen a spike in superpowered crime that hasn't been measured since the invention of superpowered crime.” Aradia began. “All of it, individually, falls very far below the scope and scale we operate at, yes, but it has come hand in hand with not one, but two appearances of the Demon King in this plane. I told you all that a few days ago Karen Reis unwittingly lead him straight to my workshop, and that with the aid of her, my grandfather, and our friend the Archangel we banished him. But in a seemingly unrelated incident a dozen days ago, our trusted associate Xena Noble tangled with a pair of Pseudodemons connected to a string of arsons and captured them within her mind. Two days ago she suffered a waking nightmare where the Demon King threatened her with subjugation if she did not release them. So, it seems that even the threats we deemed ourselves unprepared to face without divine intervention are embroiling themselves into the street level crime of this city. I will admit barely any of the crimes committed this past week have been so obviously interconnected, but it has given me reason to suspect that they may be at least metanarratively connected, and the Archangel agrees with my assessment.”

Roxanne stepped forward. “Events on my end have not been encouraging, either. Metanarrative players I believe to be from the distant fringes of my personal timeline have started intruding on my temporal locality. If they are in any way relevant to the events Aradia described, then this could possibly inflate to not only my scope and scale but even beyond my and my people's capability to contain. This could even become an multiversal Omega event, like the Infinite Crisis of legend. That is, of course, the very worst case scenario, but something to be kept in mind.”  

Astra, the founder and namesake of the group, stepped forwards. She was in her costume, blue and red with a giant gold cape. “What, then, do you propose to do, Aradia?”

Aradia thought for a moment. “Even though you would never hear any of us admit it, we have neglected our duty to aid the smaller-focused members of the superhero community. It would behoove us, I think, to bring a powerful street-level hero of the city into the fold. Allow them to be the link between our scope and scale and theirs. I know Neon in particular has become frustrated lately with our lack of intervention against the Harlequin and the rash of arsons, and thinks herself more than skilled and powerful enough to join our ranks. I don’t disagree with her assessment: She’s at the same age and level my father was when he joined.”

“Things have changed since your father joined,” Paladin remarked. He was one of the few heroes still in his civilian clothes.

“But he was the greatest of us by the time he died. His sacrifice protected us in ways none of us could truly understand. Neon has that same potential he did. If we nurture her as you nurtured him, instead of stifling her like we are now, she could very well become one of the most powerful of us.”

Aradia’s sister Thrud the Half-Golem stepped forwards. When Thrud was mortally wounded in the crossfire of a battle between Yggdrasil and Demons, Aradia saved her life by grafting her into a magic life support system, built with holy materials provided by the Archangel Roxanne. Thrud, in the process of rehabilitating, revealed that she had her own untapped magical ability, which could be used to power not only the life support but also spell-bound artifacts. Being of the same union between witches and sorcerers as Aradia, she became almost as powerful, if more combat focused than her sister. “I second my sister's proposal. Our ranks have grown stale and stagnant. The last addition to the group was Aranea 30 years ago, and we have lost 3 members in that time. We need to revitalize.”

Astra sighed, switching to a more monotone managerial voice. “The motion moves forward. Would anybody like to nominate any additional non-members to be considered for membership?”

Aranea Arachne, with her striking blue eyes, raven hair, and six arms, stepped forwards. “I know Neon’s team members all have particularly rare powers, which would certainly be a boon to us. Scratch and Elle Ectric were two of the most powerful kinetics I ever taught in my tenure at the Academy. And as for Roadie, there’s just never been anybody else like her.”

“Are you proposing we bring all four of them into the League?” Astra asked.

“Everything Aradia said about Neon applies to them, too. It would seem arbitrarily petty to elevate one and leave the rest.”

“Very well. Any others, while we are at it?”

The room remained silent.

“Then we will vote immediately. All for accepting Neon AKA Rey Walker into the League?”

34 of the 38 said “Aye.”

“Motion passes. All for accepting Scratch AKA Shailene Octavia into the League?”

26 of the 38, the minimum for the 2/3rds majority required.

“Motion passes. All for accepting Elle Ectric AKA Elana Etric into the League?”

33 of the 38.

“Motion passes. Lastly, all for accepting Roadie AKA Hilda Furst into the League?”

36 of the 38.

“Motion passes.” Astra smiled ever so slightly. “Aradia, since you introduced the motion, would you do the honor of summoning our new members?”

“Of course.” Aradia focused and incanted her summoning charm. “Rey Walker, Astra’s League requires your presence. Bring Elle, Hilda, and Shay to my workshop, please.”

It took Neon all of 30 seconds to appear on the balcony to Aradia’s workshop, trailed by her trademark streak of iridescent light.

“I said to bring your friends, Rey,” Aradia told her.

She bolted back down the building, and returned another 60 seconds later with Scratch and Roadie carried under her arms.

“Where’s Elle?”

“She’ll get here,” Neon said.

A crack of lightning later and Elle Ectric was standing beside Neon. Neon put down her other two friends and they all hesitantly waited on the balcony.

“Well, come inside,” Astra beckoned.

Neon switched off her power, absorbing the nearby segments of her plasma trail, and walked into the workshop. Neon was in her “costume”, which was a pair of neon-blue jeans, with a neon-pink leather jacket, and she had her pixie-cut hair dyed white. She bore an almost uncanny resemblance to Roxanne, though much taller, which subtly took the Archangel aback. Scratch followed her, with her deep violet side-cut accentuated by more subdued black leather. After her was Roadie, with her dark blue fauxhawk matched by her dark blue hoodie and old-fashioned denim jeans. Last was Elle, who had sparks jumping through her bright yellow spiky hair, and through the pair of copper chains wrapped around her arms, which grounded to her copper mail blouse.

The four of them looked the epitome of punk in an age when it had long ago fallen out of fashion. But they didn’t care if it was in fashion, because they were punk enough to rock it.

Aradia herded them into the middle of the room, and Astra started speaking. “I would assume you know as much or more about this recent wave of superpowered crime in the city as we do, is that correct?”

“Is that what this is about?” Neon asked. “Because yeah, I would say we know a lot about it.”

“And that is why you’re here. We will admit that we have been negligent in lending aid to help stem this, and for that I personally extend my apologies and would like to make it up to all of you.” Astra turned to Aradia. “Would you forge a set of coins for them, please, to mark their membership?”

Neon stepped back. “Membership? No, you didn’t...”

“Didn’t what?” Roadie asked. “What’s going on?”

Aradia walked up to Roxanne. “My regular supply is in storage in the basement, may I take some directly from the source?”

“Of course.” Roxanne held out her arm, and Aradia twisted her hands around it. Soon, microscopic strands of golden Celestial Adamantium were pulled from the Archangel’s bones, and flowed into four deposits orbiting the arm. Once the deposits were the size of a common challenge coin, Aradia took them and hovered them over to the new members.

“You crazy sons of bitches,” Scratch said, telekinetically reaching out for the coin approaching her.

The four of them each took their respective coin, and at the same time everyone else in the room except for the Archangel held out their own coins.

“You four are now the newest members of Astra’s League,” Astra announced. “Welcome to the team. We hope that now that we have a more tangible connection to the problems of the city we will no longer be so negligent in protecting it from superpowered crime, no matter the scope and scale.”

An alarm on Aradia’s workbench went off. “Oh, it’s about to cross into the new year on the east coast,” she announced. With a quick flick of her wrist, Aradia brought up a holographic screen showing the countdown to the ball-drop in Times Square.

“How apropos,” Astra noted. “May this new year signify a new age of peace in this city and the world, with you four’s help.”

The entirely of Astra’s League gathered around the screen, and Aradia passed around glasses of champagne to toast with. The countdown hit zero, and the ball dropped, and there was much cheering. The League as one drank their champagnes, and the camera in New york panned over the cheering crowd.

And Roxanne saw something that should not have been. In the center of the cheering crowd was a woman, with white hair and red eyes, wearing a crown with a thick crack running through the front of it. She had Roxanne’s face. Besides her was a handsome man, also with red eyes, who was laughing.

“THE DEMON KING!” Roxanne yelled, pointing at the screen. As she watched, the woman drew a large golden knife, and grabbed the Demon King’s hair. She yanked his head back and ran the knife through his neck, cleanly severing his head. Roxanne watched as the woman mouthed: 

“Come and get us, you angelic whore.”

“We gotta get to New York ten seconds ago,” Roxanne said, panickedly punching buttons on her portal remote.

On the screen, the body of the Demon King started it’s unholy transformation. The crowds of people in Times Square started screaming, and running, and the woman laughed. His body grew and grew, and started sprouting wings and a tail and seven snake-like necks.

Roxanne finally finished summoning a portal, which opened up to a rooftop above Times square, where the Demon King’s transformation was even more apparent. He was growing so fast that he was crushing people running away.

Roxanne ran through the portal without hesitation, and Astra and most of the rest of the League followed. Aradia and the four new members were the last ones left to go through.

“I won’t expect you to throw yourselves into the thick of it this suddenly, but your aid would be greatly appreciated,” Aradia explained.

“Well,” Neon replied, “if you’re going to help with our problems, we'll have to help with your problems. I did ask for this, after all.”

“It’s all our problem, now, Rey,” Roadie noted before duplicating herself and sending the four duplicates of her through the portal. Shay hovered through after her, and Elle jumped though with a clap of thunder.

Neon chuckled. “That it is.” She ignited her power again, sending glowing plasma through her veins, and then bolted through the portal with speed, leaving a trail of neon iridescence behind her.

Aradia smiled and walked through the portal herself, and then with a quick motion of her wrist shut it behind her.

[thisisevenharderthannamingablog]

A Wondrous Adventure (1/4)

OUaT/Captain Swan

7000 words

Swearing and implied sex

AO3 Link

Author’s Note: This is my attempt to make 6b what I wanted it to be -- a celebration of my favorite in-show couple -- leading up to the wedding -- and to fix a few other things along the way. The divergence begins in “Murder Most Foul”, where there was no snooping, no ring-finding, and no Killian killing Charming’s father in a meaningless and out of character encounter. There was a fight; however, it was about something altogether different.

This chapter follows most of “A Wondrous Place,” with additions and changes. Thank you @ripplestitchskein for the speedy and excellent beta!

It was a stupid fight to begin with. The enormity of her mistake hit Emma as soon as the door closed behind Killian. The house lights flickered with the surge of emotion. Minutes passed while she fought herself. When the danger had passed, she stood for another moment leaning against the door, shaking.

"Son of a bitch."

Emma pushed herself upright, grabbed her coat from the hook and went after him. Damp and bitter cold struck her, and the snow fell thickly. She could already barely see his footprints on the sidewalk, but Emma didn't have to be a good tracker to know where Killian would have gone. She set out after him at a near-run.

By the time Emma caught up they were at the waterfront, and she was half-soaked from slipping in the snow and falling on her ass.

"Killian?" She saw him turn. "Killian please, wait." She stopped a good ten feet away to try to get her breath back.

“Emma --” Under the glaring boathouse lights, he still had that tight-jawed, desperate look he’d had upon leaving the house. He had looked like that too much in the Underworld.

“Just wait, okay? Look. I’m sorry. I’m not -- I’m not angry at you, okay? I know how it sounded, but I’m not. I just saw what you were doing and I got scared, and I didn’t think before I said anything. I had no business getting on a high horse about it. I know that.” Emma blinked snowflakes and tears out of her eyes. Seeing the dream-catcher, seeing in it Killian’s memories from the vault of the Dark One, the unrelenting horror of those endless minutes, had jarred her into panic, brought back things that she had spent weeks trying not to think about. It seemed that she hadn’t been the only one. Emma saw him take a breath and bulled ahead. “So can we just -- just keep talking? Instead of whatever you’re thinking about doing?”

He flinched. "Of course."

"Don't say that."  

"Swan, do you want to talk or not?"

Emma closed her mouth, her eyes, her hands for a moment before saying what she should have said back at the house. "Yes. I want to talk. Do you?"

"I don't know."

"Okay." She was close enough to see his half-closed eyes, the dip of his head avoiding her gaze. Her throat hurt, but she let the quiet stand, mastered the urge to fill it with more explanations -- that she had thought he must still blame her, resent what she had done as the Dark One. That erasing that memory must be the only way he could think about living with her. That she had panicked and gone on the offensive.

“I'm sorry," he said.

"For being human? Or for what I did? I'm sorry, too. For all of it."

“I know, and that’s… that’s not the reason, at all.” He closed the remaining distance between them in a few steps. "So what now?"

"I don't know." She reached out a hand anyway. “But I do know that I freaked out back there, and I said things I didn’t mean. Because I’ve thought about doing the same thing, sometimes. About just forgetting things, it would be so easy, but once you start doing that, where does it stop. Before you do, could you maybe talk to Archie, or to somebody?”

“Aye.” He leaned his forehead against hers. "That’s sensible..” After a moment he said, “I've never run from anyone but you."

Emma summoned a wobbly smile. "I'm that scary, huh."

"Terrifying. Nearly as soon as I met you, I knew -- a glance from you might lay bare a century of poor excuses."

"But you always come back."

"Aye, and the better for it."

They stood collecting snow for a few more moments before Emma said, "My feet are freezing. Can we go home?" They weren't done with this, but she didn't need to push right now.

"We can. Though as long as we're here,” he raised his head to glance seaward, “I ought to speak to Captain Nemo before they cast off."

"I guess. What for?" She took his hand and twined her cold fingers through his. This was all she had really wanted.

"He gave me some very good advice, earlier today. That I failed to take it does not lesson the gift."

"All right. I've never been on a submarine."

Killian led the way down the wharf to where the Nautilus lay. "I think you'll find this one rather differs from the usual run in this world."

*

"This is an unexpected pleasure," Nemo greeted them with a smile. "I won't question it, but I will see if one of my crew can find you a towel."

“Thanks.” Emma looked around the salon and tried not to drip on the velvet. “I didn’t think it would be this big on the inside.”

“Our voyages are long.” He waved at the iris window, the pipe organ, and the navigational instruments. “A vista for the eyes to rest upon, engagements for the mind, and a few other comforts are essential to good health.”

“It’s beauti--” Emma started to say, when a swirl of black smoke engulfed the far side of the room. “Gideon.” She started forward, hands already in position for spell-casting.

“Ah-ah,” Gideon admonished, throwing back his hood. “I’m not sure tossing magical blasts around inside a submarine is the best idea, unless you can all breathe water.” Elsewhere in the vessel, gears clanked and wheels spun.

“What do you think you are doing?” Nemo demanded, striding toward the invader. The Nautilus began to move.

Gideon smiled. “Getting the Savior out of the way. Enjoy your trip with her, captains.” The enigmatic sorcerer vanished again with a flourish of black robes.

“Bloody over-dramatic--” Killian started to say. The ship jerked; alarms sounded. He took hold of an exposed pipe to steady himself.  

“We’re submerging,” Nemo said. He stepped to the nearest speaking tube and issued a series of crisp orders. “Hold on to something.”

Emma grabbed the table -- it was bolted to the floor -- and said, “I can try to stop it if I can figure out what he did.”

“Too late,” Nemo said. “The portal is forming, and he’s locked the instruments. To attempt to shut things down now could damage the vessel fatally. Brace yourselves.”

Blinding light leaked around the edges of the window covering, and the shaking grew intense as the ship moved inexorably forward. The rumbling vibration drowned out any other sound as unsecured books and instruments slid from their shelves.

Emma had thought that nothing could be worse than traversing a portal on the open deck of a sailing ship, but as it turned out, doing so in a submarine topped it for sheer electric terror. Not being able to see the howling maelstrom around them did not ease her tension one bit. Her knuckles were white and her hands ached when the Nautilus’s headlong plunge slowed to a drift. The alarms continued. The deck slanted hard to the left. Emma let go her death grip on the table long enough to get over to Killian.

“You all right, love?” He gave her a concerned look, but appeared unhurt.

“Fine, you? Where are we?” Emma looked at Nemo as Liam came in.

“Damage report, Mr. Jones,” the captain ordered. He did not appear troubled by the room’s pitch or its continued slow movement.

“Full extent unknown yet, sir, but we hadn’t finished our preparations for launch. The port engine took damage, not sure yet how bad it is. We have some injuries among the crew, a broken arm is the worst of them. Also, we lost some of the supplies to a portside leak in the hold. Repairs are already underway while we look for more problems.”

Emma caught Killian’s flicker of smile -- almost identical to Nemo’s -- at this report.

“Excellent. I’ll be there in a moment.” Nemo looked at Emma and Killian. “If you’ll excuse me?” He and Liam departed.

“I guess we did want to change the subject,” Emma muttered. She edged across the sloped deck and hit the button to open the window. “Any idea where we are?” Deep water was all she could tell, with very little to see by and less to see, not even a passing fish.

Killian joined her. “Impossible to say without a look at the stars.”

“We gotta get back, we can’t be away from Storybrooke when he’s plotting… whatever it is he’s really after besides killing me. Can’t be good, right?”

“Presumably not.” He put an arm around her. “However, they’re a resourceful lot. I expect they’ll manage. As will we.”

“I hope so.” Emma leaned her head against his shoulder and stared at the empty ocean. “Why do I have the feeling that this is not going to be as simple as turning around and opening a portal to get back.”

*

“.... And finally,” Liam concluded his report, “we’re dangerously close to being out of fuel, with little to choose from in terms of nearby ports.” The ongoing engine repairs had corrected some of the submarine’s list, but not all of it. The other three seemed to be used to the slant and stood easily, but Emma kept feeling like she was going to slide downhill. Unless it was the prospect of being stuck in a drifting and powerless submarine in the oceans of the Enchanted Forest doing that.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones,” Nemo said. “That is quite thorough, as always.” He turned to Emma and Killian. “I’m afraid that getting you two back home will not be a simple endeavor.”

“Knew it,” Emma said. “Look, my folks are going to be freaking out. Henry is going to be freaking out. There’s a deranged sorcerer with the aesthetic sense of a high school theater geek running around town, and we need to get back there as soon as possible.”

“I understand. Unfortunately, opening a portal is a significant task. Even if the ship were undamaged, we do not have enough kraken’s blood to ensure that the portal would reach its destination. I would prefer not to deliver all of us to a netherworld between the realms if it can be avoided. It would quite waste the help you’ve provided by healing my injured crew.” Nemo smiled.

Emma shrugged off the thanks. “Fine. So what do we do now?”

“The first step is to find a kraken,” Killian said with an amused glint in his eyes.

*

While the Nautilus made its best speed toward the nearest known haunt of krakens, one of Nemo’s crew showed them to an empty cabin near the stern. The room reminded Emma of compartments on trains she had seen in old movies. It had a curtained porthole, two narrow bunks that could be folded down on one wall, and a desk and seat that could be folded down on the other. Even in what she had to assume was a room normally used by junior crew members, the fittings were well made and looked comfortable. The overhead electric light worked through a touch-plate in the wall. Once in a while the ship’s structure rang with a deep vibration. Emma hoped that was just Nemo getting out some frustration at the pipe organ, and not a sign that the whole contraption was going to come apart.

“Is this okay? The room?” she asked from the doorway. “Other than the fact that this thing runs on blood.”

“Your world’s automobiles derive power from gasoline, which is what again?”

“Uh… liquid dinosaurs. Point. The room, though?”

“It’s fine.” Killian let the curtain fall over the lack of view and gave her a puzzled look. “We’ve both had worse quarters.”

“Yeah, but. I don’t know. I thought maybe you wanted to be alone.” She shrugged. Now that the shock was fading, she couldn’t help but remember what had landed them on the Nautilus in the first place.

Killian shrugged. “We had a fight, Swan. Bit of a corker, granted, but that happens.”

“Well… we haven’t before, really.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Not since you moved in. I heard something once about not going to bed mad.” That had never been a possibility to worry about in her pre-Storybrooke years.

“I’m not. Are you?”

She uncrossed her arms and stepped into the room to sit on the lower bunk. “I don’t think so. I mean, other than at Gideon.” She felt hollow and exhausted and worried, but not angry.

“Well then.”

“Just like that? I don’t mean I want to start fighting again,” she added.

“Then we needn’t.” Killian sat down next to her. “It has been quite a day.”

“Yeah. Can I just ask what happened? That brought up all of… that stuff again.”

“Your visions.”

Emma cocked her head, puzzled, but he didn’t elaborate. She took his hand instead of asking further.

He brushed his fingers over hers. “You know, we are likely to argue now and again.”

“Yeah, but I guess I figured it would be about whose turn it was to take out the trash, or Henry’s curfew.”

“Still a possibility.”

“Great. Thanks.” She couldn’t help returning his smile. He kissed her hair. She tried not to worry.

*

It took them three days to find a kraken. The crew worked diligently at their repairs, but Emma couldn’t help noticing how nervous they looked, or the fact that the ship still tended to lean to port. Nemo gave them the run of the ship, took meals with them, and offered diverting stories about his travels in a dozen realms and about people he had met in the Land of Untold Stories. Emma did her best to be a good guest in return, but it was mostly on Killian to keep up the conversation. She used the mirror in Nemo’s salon to check in on events in Storybrooke more often than was probably useful. There wasn’t any sound, but she could at least reassure herself that they were all right. Between peeks at her family, she paced every corridor on the Nautilus until she felt like she was in the crew’s way, flipped through all of Nemo’s books, deeply regretted that she had worn a white sweater the other day, and envied Killian’s ability to wait.

“Centuries of practice, love,” he said with a grin, looking up from the book he was reading at the little pocket desk. “Isn’t this a bit like one of your… stake-outs?”

“I’m not stuck in an underwater Pringles can during one of those. And it’s not that I don’t like the ship,” she added to head off that argument. “It’s a lovely ship.”

“I am anxious to return as well, but worrying won’t be any help to your family.”

“I know. And I know they’re good at weathering things, but they’re cursed right now. Not exactly at their best.” She flung herself down on the lower bunk and stared at the curved ceiling, then propped herself up on her elbows to look at Killian. “How are you doing? For real?”

He took her meaning with a raised eyebrow. “Well enough. Why, are you looking for a distraction?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” And if he didn’t think it was weird, then neither would she. They could figure things out.

“Oh?” He closed the book and joined her.

“I miss sleeping with you. These beds are way too skinny.”

“I confess, I prefer our own as well. I think can make shift, however.”

They left the light on. Emma felt tentative at first. They went slowly until that became an end in itself -- small motions, gentle touches, whispers drawing out the affirmation they both craved.

“What are you thinking?” he asked later. They lay wedged together on the bunk, spoon fashion, which was fine only as long as Emma didn’t move more than an inch. If she did, she was going to end up on the floor.

“That time Zelena cursed you.” Come back to me. And he had, then and every time afterward.

“That was quite the day.”

“We’ve had a lot of them.” Emma turned over (carefully).

“Every one of them precious.”

She laughed and kissed him, pleased by the hunger of his response. Not so slow this time, they still tried to be quiet for the sake of the neighbors -- and very thoroughly distracted.

*

“Kraken!” came the word from the lookout, and all hands aboard the Nautilus scrambled to battle stations.

“They are, needless to say, dangerous,” Nemo said. “For their sheer size if nothing else. They must be taken with care so as not to waste the blood. A steady hand and sure aim are needed, and never a long struggle, or else this chase would be in vain.”

“I volunteer,” Killian said. Emma squeezed his hand.

Nemo gave him a thoughtful look and a half-bow, conceding the honor. “The first harpoon is yours, Captain. If this creature follows the usual pattern, we won’t have a long chase. If they even notice pursuit, they seldom run from it. They have nothing to fear from most of the vessels of this world.”

“How often do you have to do this?” Emma asked, staring at the dim shape on what looked an awful lot like a sonar panel. Although the Nautilus’ instruments seldom worked the way she expected them to, they were effective.

“Perhaps every other year, under normal circumstances. In the Land of Untold Stories, of course, nothing was ever truly depleted -- including my own life, fortunately,” he added with a wry look. “The kraken is a potent source of energy, but I fear that traveling between realms requires considerable resources.”

“Every method does have its price. “ Emma nodded. “Although by now we should get a frequent flier discount.”

They trailed the beast for another day before the watchers reported that the kraken appeared headed for the surface.

“Follow it up,” Killian ordered.

Liam looked like he wanted to object, but Nemo stayed him with a look. Liam glared back in silent outrage. Nemo gave a gentle shake of his head.

If he noticed this, Killian ignored it. “Quickly, gentlemen. Our window is closing. Shall we?” he said to Emma, who decided not to mention it. .

“Right behind you.”

The ship surfaced as quickly as its leaking mechanisms allowed, and broke the water just behind the kraken. As soon as the all-clear sounded, Emma followed Killian up through the hatch. The fresh air and sunshine on her face were intoxicating, however cold. From the water below she heard splashing, and someone yelled -- she hauled herself up the last few rungs and emerged just in time to see the harpoon reach its mark. The water boiled around the kraken. Amid the writhing tentacles was a rowboat, and it was occupied.

“Is that… Aladdin and Jasmine?” Emma shaded her eyes.

“Duck!” Jasmine yelled, swinging an oar over Aladdin’s head to fend off the dying kraken’s convulsions.

“Certainly appears to be.” Killian made sure the harpoon was fast to the Nautilus.

“I thought they went to Agrabah. What the hell are they doing out here?”

“I’ll find out.” He swung over the rail, took hold of the rope, and slid down to the rowboat and its hapless occupants.

“Show-off.” Emma shook her head and watched, ready to intervene magically if necessary. Jasmine’s Storybrooke coat made it seem unlikely that this was any kind of a trap, but she wasn’t planning to take chances.

“Normally we put out poisoned bait to slow the creature before closing in,” Liam noted, climbing up to lean on the rail next to her. “Less risk. But I suppose that’s one way to do it.”

“He doesn’t miss often. You haven’t gotten much of a chance to spend time together, have you two.” Emma hadn’t gotten a good read on Liam so far. A quiet, stand-offish young man, devoted to Nemo and their mission, he hadn’t ventured much by way of personal opinions before this. She was pleased to see him unbend a little.

“Not much, no.” He shrugged.

“And you’re still not sure you want to,” Emma guessed.

“I spent most of my life knowing no other family but the crew of this ship. To find it unexpectedly larger than I ever imagined is not easy to encompass.”

“I know how that feels.”

“I’ll get some of the crew to deal with our kraken.” He headed below.

“Are you guys coming on board or what?” Emma called down to the boat.

Aladdin took hold of the rope and began pulling them in toward the Nautilus. “What are you doing in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Trying to get the hell out of it,” Killian said. “What are you two doing out here?”

“We’re searching for Agrabah,” Jasmine said.

Emma looked at the expanse of water all around them and decided it was better not to say what she was thinking. “Just get up here so we can talk like normal people.” Which might not have been the best thing to say, either.

*

“So we have the kraken’s blood, but we can’t put the Nautilus through another portal before you get it fixed, because the damage from the last time might cave in on us like me stomping a tin can.” Emma looked from Liam to Nemo. The three of them, plus Killian and the two new arrivals, had gathered in the salon. Nemo had brought in a larger table and extra chairs.

“Essentially, yes,” Nemo said.

“Well, we have a genie now. We could get back the same way they got here.”

“Maybe.” Aladdin grimaced. “Princess Jasmine and I have spent the past two weeks tramping around the woods with nothing to show for it but blisters. Not sure that I’m your most reliable bet for transport.”

“Precisely. You are certainly free to take the risk yourselves,” Nemo said with the grave courtesy Emma had yet to see budge, no matter the circumstances. “I am too well versed in the price demanded by magical conveniences. I will not risk my vessel or my crew unless the alternative is certain death.”

“Given where I ended up thanks to Regina, I’ll give you the point. So we’re back to fixing the Nautilus.” Emma planted her hands on the table and stared at the map. “Where can we do that?”

“Agrabah..”

“.... Which is gone.”

“Their metallurgy is by far the best in this realm.”

“It’s not gone, it’s missing,” Jasmine said. “I know it’s somewhere. Jafar didn’t destroy it, he… he hid it, just to hurt me.” She clenched her hands.   

“This guy sounds like a winner.” Emma blew out a sigh.

“Jafar,” Killian said, sitting up straighter and tapping his hook against the table.

“What about him?”

“Find him, find Agrabah. Captain Nemo, your harpoon…? Whatever drives this Jafar in his villainy, there must some element of revenge in it.”

Jasmine grimaced. “There certainly is. He hates all of Agrabah for what his father did. I doubt his rage has abated over the past few years. But are you sure that’s a good idea? He’s quite powerful.” She looked doubtfully at Aladdin, who looked at the floor.

“He will not be a problem,” Emma promised grimly. “I really want to go home. How does this harpoon thing work? Do we have to stab him with it?”

“Nothing so violent,” Nemo said, setting down the case and lifting the lid.

“I like the sound of it,” Jasmine said.

“Another vote for the stabbing here.” Aladdin raised his hand.

“Murdering the man won’t save your city,” Nemo said.

“Stabbing. Not murdering. Totally different.”

“The sooner we find him, the sooner we can all be off your ship,” Killian put in. Nemo’s long-suffering look brightened, and he set the harpoon head spinning in search of a heart given over to revenge.

*

Another day passed. Her fuel tanks full, the Nautilus cruised toward whatever unguessable destination held the secret to vanished Agrabah. Emma spent most of the time in the library, where she soon lost track of both the hours and the thread of every book she tried to read. She gave up on an alchemy manual in favor of something lighter, but even that gave her a headache.

“If everything that happened in this world is in books back in my world,” she put down the book to stare at the cover, “are books in this world real in someone else’s world? And do they have books there, too? Is it a loop? If it stops, where does it stop? How many magic pens are we talking about here? And more important, do any of these people have any advice on fixing techno-magical submarines.” She belatedly realized that Aladdin had entered the library. “Hi.”

"Sorry, I didn't mean to... interrupt?” He backed up a step, then paused and looked around. “Talking to yourself?"

"Apparently. You’re not interrupting. At least, not anything that shouldn’t be interrupted.”  She swiped her hair back from her face with a sigh.

“Okay. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Jasmine about?”

“Not since breakfast, sorry.” She gave him a curious look, grateful for the prospect of a distraction.

“Hmmm breakfast.” He closed his eyes with a smile. “I have to say, running into you all was a stroke of luck. Neither of us is much of a forager. Always was a city boy, and I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to all of the Storybrooke conveniences. Another week, and I might have wished myself back there for a loaf of fresh bread and some apples.”

“I’m sure Nemo’s cook will be glad to hear it. The food is definitely a down side to traveling in this realm. I’ve eaten some unpleasant things back in our world, including convenience store hot dogs, but at least I knew what most of them were.”

He hovered for another minute, looking at the nearest shelf. “Any recommendations? I fancy an airy setting. This place is a bit on the cramped side.”

“You could always go back in your lamp for a change of pace.”

“Not an improvement. Soft cushions, mind, but the place soon starts to whiff a bit.”

“If you’re looking for something to read, you can have this one.” She passed it over. “It’s got dragons. Lots of air.”

“Uh… thanks.” He settled on the opposite couch. “So, what’s got you talking to yourself?”

“Oh… I don’t know. Trying to figure out how to get us all out of this and get home.” She hesitated. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. “You know, sometimes I think I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" He looked around with a puzzled look. “You’re doing great. Savior.”

Emma winced. “It’s not that, I’m kinda getting used to that thing. It’s life. I mean, it’s taken me years to figure out how to be a parent, and now there’s this whole other... thing. It’s the three of us now, not just me and Henry, and it’s different. Being with someone, living with someone, I've never done it before. People make it look easy. At least my parents do."

"Ah. Never really had those, couldn't say. Or the other, for that matter."

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it wasn’t all bad.” He clasped his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. The dim blue light through the portholes played over his grin. “The thieving part was fun. I mean, other than the hunger and fear and scavenging and so forth.”

“I know.” She changed the subject. "You trust her a lot. Jasmine."

He looked surprised. "I suppose so."

"You decided to become a genie to help her out. She could command you to do -- well, anything. You wouldn't have a choice." Memory made her guts coil unpleasantly, the helplessness and the quick-rising fury of the dagger's compulsion.

"She wouldn't do that. And I had to do something. Only way. Can’t run from it forever, right?" He fiddled with the cuffs on his wrists and looked over at Emma with a wry smile. “Golden shackles. Always thought the metaphor was a bit heavy-handed, to be honest.”

“Curses aren’t known for being subtle. How long have you two known each other?"

Aladdin scratched the back of his neck. "It's a little hard to figure out time exactly, what with one thing and another. Curses and so forth."

"That’s fair. How long did it feel like?"

"A month or so, I suppose. We met back in Agrabah, but then I was off fighting, and she had the kingdom.” He shrugged. “And then the weeks we’ve just spent in this, ah, delightful quest."

"Some people would say that's not very long." If he was trying to do something other than wear his heart on his sleeve, Emma thought he was doing a terrible job of it.

“Amazing what you can learn about someone when you’re camping in the wilderness.”

“True.”

Aladdin gave her an amused look, and Emma’s cheeks warmed; her expression must have given something away, too. They were a long way from Neverland. It had been twenty years since the last time she had even thought about settling down with anyone. Men were there to scratch an itch and then you moved on -- but she hadn’t, and he hadn’t, and it was their home, their family they were trying to get back to. And she certainly did trust him.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about really,” Aladdin said with a faint smile as he got up. “Thanks for the book.”

*

“Er. Have you seen Aladdin?” Jasmine asked.

“‘Fraid not.” Killian glared at the chart. The harpoon had not wavered; whatever else he was doing, Jafar wasn’t moving around much. There wasn’t much out in this part of the ocean, however, and he was getting concerned. The longer this little jaunt took, the more the danger at home increased. He didn’t like to think of Emma’s family at the mercy of the Dark One’s son.

“Oh.” Jasmine sounded somewhere between relief and disappointment.

“You might try the library.”

“That’s a good idea.” She didn’t leave, though, just wandered around the room looking at Nemo’s instruments. “So, what’s it been like. Being in a relationship with a Savior.”

“Ah… eventful. Thought your lad there had resigned from the position?”

“He’s not mine. Not that it really matters.”

Killian gave her a skeptical look.

“Anyway, he did save me, and my city, for a time.”

“Fair enough.

“It’s a lot more than I did.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

After a silence, Killian asked, “Do you know anything of Jafar that would explain his evident whereabouts?”

“I don’t know very much about him at all, other than that we ought not to underestimate him.”

“I’m sure Emma will prove his equal.”

“I hope so.”

Killian rubbed his forehead and restrained a sigh. “Your Highness, there is nothing in these waters but a few small islands. If we continue on our present course for more than two days, we will be in uncharted territory with a voyage of unguessable distance before us. This is occupying a fair portion of my thoughts right now, so if there’s something you want to get off your chest, could you please do so?”

“I ran away.” Jasmine clenched her hands and glared at the wall. “It’s all I’ve ever done. I made excuses, and then more excuses. And now I don’t know what to do. I can’t lead my people; can’t protect them, can’t even find them.”

“Possible that you’re being a bit hard on yourself.”

“I wish--” she stopped and looked around. “Is it safe to say that with a genie on board?”

“Better not to take the chance. Look, princess, believe me, I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not making the grade, so to speak. Fortunately or not, life never seems to tire of giving us opportunities to prove the opposite.”

Jasmine sighed. “After so long in the Land of Untold Stories, perhaps I’ve simply forgotten how to make mine progress.”

“Try Neverland someday. Or look at your choices and make a decision.” Decide to turn around, to follow, to go on, to come back.

Her mouth pursed, Jasmine refrained from immediate reply. Killian shook his head and focused on the charts.

Eventually she said, “The library?”

“Aye.”

“Thank you, captain.”

*

“The harpoon has found a destination,” Killian said. “Hangman’s Island.” He tapped the chart spread across the table.

“That’s not the name I know it by,” Nemo observed.

“Aye, well, it’s more used among a certain set.”

“Hangman’s Island?” Emma frowned and looked up at Killian. “Wait, isn’t that where Ariel was?”

“It was,” he emphasized. “If Jafar is there, let us hope that she is not.”

Their days of underwater travel had brought them to warmer climes. They prepared as best they could for the encounter. Killian borrowed a sword.

Emma pulled Jasmine aside as they prepared to disembark at sunset. “You don’t have to come along.”

“Of course I do.” The princess frowned. “This is about my city, my home. I won’t say I’m not afraid,” she said more quietly, “but I am coming with you. And I do have a genie.”

A genie with whom she had spent a good bit of the previous day in quiet conversation, at that. Not that Emma was one to pry, but she could hardly help noticing that the two Agrabahns did not maintain quite the same awkward distance that they had when they first came aboard.

“You also swing a mean oar,” Emma said. “Let’s go, then.” They joined Killian and Aladdin at the ladder. “Remember, the plan is to immobilize and interrogate. Best if we can take him by surprise.” She looked them over with a wince. Emma had borrowed a darker shirt from one of the crew, and Jasmine’s buff-colored coat would be okay until full dark, but there wasn’t any hiding a genie’s glitter, and they might need his power against Jafar. “Killian, maybe you should take point. You’ve been here before.”

“My pleasure.”

The island appeared peaceful. Their reconnaissance determined that it had only one building, and that building appeared to be uninhabited. The house was set back a little ways from a small beach. A pit and nearby stack of wood showed evidence of cooking fires. Emma left Aladdin on watch and went in first, magic ready, but the place was empty -- of people, at least; in all other respects it was monumentally cluttered. The whole of it was one room, a curtained bed, a table, and shelf after shelf of… stuff.

“Who needs this many corkscrews?” Jasmine wondered.

Killian shrugged. “Well, a broken cork could be tragic, under the right circumstances.”

Emma stifled a snicker and looked through more shelves of flotsam and jetsam. “You know, this all seems a little familiar somehow. Seventeen forks that don’t match?”

“Aye.” Killian frowned at a collection of glass floats.

Aladdin opened the door. “Someone’s coming. Not Jafar,” he added. “Two people. They’re talking.”

“Two? I bet we know who it is, then,” Emma said. They went outside, and in the last fading sunlight saw Ariel and Eric walking hand in hand up the path from the beach.

They stopped and exchanged a surprised look, then rushed forward. A jumble of greetings, hugs, and questions followed.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked. “I would have thought you’d be back in your kingdom by now, it’s been…  months?”

“Oh, we’re just taking a little break,” Ariel said with a fond glance at Eric. “It’s nice to get away from the bustle of the court once in a while. I keep all of my best collections here, too, the currents are fantastic.”

“Must have been all that time under the curse,” Eric said with a laugh. “Guess I got used to a simple life, and to fishing.” He had a net slung over his shoulder, some of its contents still wriggling, and a basket of fruit in the crook of his arm. “This has the best of both worlds. But please do come in,” he added. “Whatever brings you to the island, our home is yours.”

He looked as happy as anyone Emma had ever seen. She almost hated to explain the reason for their visit, and did so as quickly as possible..

“Do you suppose…?” Eric said with a glance at Ariel.

“It must be this.” Ariel nodded and picked up a brass bottle from one of her shelves. “It’s the only thing I have that’s from Agrabah.”

“Only one way to find out.” Emma looked at Jasmine, who reached out to take the bottle.

She gave Aladdin a nervous look and got an encouraging nod in return, then rubbed her sleeve over the tarnished brass. A wisp of smoke issued out -- reluctantly, or was that Emma’s imagination? -- and took the form of a tall man in Agrabahn dress and golden cuffs.

“I am the genie of the lamp. Tell to me your wishes… three.” He paused. “I might have guessed.”

“Jafar. It really is you. What happened?” Jasmine stared at him. “How did you become a genie?”

Jafar closed his eyes in silent eloquence before saying, “I am bound by my curse to answer ‘hubris’ to that question, though I in no way concede such a premise. How may I serve you, o mistress of the lamp.” His glance veered to Aladdin. “Or is it mistress of the ex-Savior these days.”

Emma stepped between them. “Can it. I’m the only Savior you need to worry about today.”

Jafar smiled. “And why is that, exactly?”

“Because there are six of us here, and unless you answer my questions, we’re going to spend all day trading your lamp back and forth and finding new ways to make you regret being born.”

His smile widened, but there were daggers in it. “Oh, you have no idea. Ask your questions, then.”

Emma glanced at Jasmine, who raised her chin and spoke like a princess. .

“Genie, I command you. Tell me what you did to Agrabah.”

“Unobservant as well? You were right there, I’m sure you saw it.” He spread his hands. “The answer is in your hands, if only you had the wit to find it.”

“I wonder what happens when a genie punches a genie right in his smug mouth,” Aladdin mused. “I mean, we are immortal, right? We could find out.”

“Oh yes, let us.” Jafar moved toward him like a snake, but Jasmine threw herself between the two of them.

“Stop it. I command you. And answer my question.”

“I already did.” He flicked a ringed hand dismissively. “Agrabah is right where you left it.”

“You speak in riddles. Answer me plainly. You must!”

“Oh, but I don’t have to do that at all, mistress. Only accurately.”

Jasmine stared at him. Emma wondered if she ought to intervene, but suddenly Jasmine smiled and said, “Thank you, genie. I do have one more question. What is it that you want?”

For a moment it seemed that he would not answer, before he ground out, “I had it all within my grasp. If it takes a thousand years, I will have it again. Even a genie’s curse can be broken. I will find the means.”

“Indeed? Back in your bottle, genie.”

Jafar sneered and vanished in a cloud of smoke. Emma gave Killian a confused look and got one back.

“What--” she started to say.

“I know the answer now. Which just leaves the question of what to do with this.”  Jasmine picked up the bottle. “Back in the ocean?”

“It will only wash up somewhere else,” Aladdin said. “It’s how these things work.”

“I could keep it,” Ariel said. “I don’t need a wish.” She beamed at Eric, who blushed. “I’ll probably forget that it’s there, with all of this other stuff.”

“I guess that will have to do,” Jasmine said, though she looked doubtful.

“Great,” Emma said. “So… Agrabrah? Where is it?”

“Right here.” Jasmine held up her hand to show the ring. “This is part of my family’s regalia. It’s linked to the city, to the land. And now it is frozen within it. My wish worked, after all -- the way they do.”

“Sure. Fine. How do we get it out, then?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect a Savior can do it.” She looked at Aladdin.

“What? I keep telling you people, I’m not. I used the bloody shears! Destiny, no more, gone.” He gestured as if to someone leaving the room. “Bye.”

“I don’t know if we only get one destiny. Please, at least try.”

“You could just make a wish.”

“No. Nemo was right, it’s too dangerous. Please?”

“If it’ll make you feel better to embarrass me, all right.” He sighed and moved nearer. “Give it here.”

Jasmine slid the ring off her finger and held it up in the lamplight.

“Oh, it’s lovely. So glittery,” Ariel said.

Jasmine smiled. “It certainly is.” She slipped it onto Aladdin’s finger, as far as it would go.

Aladdin blinked and gave her an uncertain smile. Emma and Killian exchanged raised eyebrows.

Aladdin held his hand over the ring like a conjurer. “Uh, abracadabrah. Mellon. Pretty please? You see? Nothing.” His voice softened. “Jasmine. I would like nothing better than to give you back our city. You deserve nothing less for everything you’ve done. And there’s nowhere else I would rather be than defending it with you, trying to fix everything I did wrong. But I --.”

A wind rose from nothing to a howl that shook the house. Everyone stared at the ring, which had begun to glow. Emma had to shield her eyes, protection spells dancing at her fingertips, but the noise and the shaking died as abruptly as it had begun.

“Uh… what just happened?” Ariel said.

“You did it.” Jasmine threw her arms around Aladdin and kissed him.

A wash of rainbow light burst out from the two of them, over the house and all of Ariel’s things,and was gone. When it faded, the golden cuffs were gone from Aladdin’s wrists.

End of Chapter 1

[sama1314]

Halfway Between (Part 2)

(Don’t miss Part 1)

2: Down We Go

Loki x OC

Warnings: Nothing yet

Word count: 3,086

Posted Date: 17/5/17

Masterlist

When I opened my eyes again it was indeed a dreamscape, a strong one seen as there were two people with magic capabilities making it.

"Sky." Loki's voice echoed in the space. He hadn't manifested yet.

"Loki, shall we go to the usual spot?" I hum.

Colours began to swirl and blur. The blackness we had appeared in became a cloud of colours and we ended up appearing at the desired location, well a recreation of it.

*~*~*~*

"Loki, what is this place?" I ask.

I was older now. Being in Asgard for two years had taken a toll on my appearance and vocabulary habits. I was twelve when I arrived here and now I'm fourteen.

There was a large forest that we traveled through to find this location Loki wished to show me. It was a small clearing by a clear river, a small cliff loomed above the river with more crystal clear water trickling into the river. There seemed to almost be spots of glowing gold lights that reminded me of fireflies.

"I found this when I was a child. It's of my favourite places here." Loki answered my previous question.

"It's beautiful." I breathe.

When this was actually happening I hadn't notice Loki's small smile from behind me. It took a few months for me to notice and by that time we visited here frequently.

"Would you like to share this spot with me? It can be our little place away from the palace." I looked a Loki with a big grin.

I ran into him, my face smacking into his abdomen. I clung onto him, his dark robes crumpling in my grip.

"Please Loki, that would be great!" I whispered loud enough for him to hear.

That started our visits to that place and it carried on for the further six years I stayed in Asgard.

*~*~*~*

"You remember it well Sky," Loki commented finally coming into view.

"Yes, it's a special place Loki. You know that as well as I do." I glance at him as he comes to stand beside me.

"You are right." Loki's smile turns into a sickly glare.

"This was a safe place, for us both." I blink in confusion.

"You knew Celestine!" Loki's eyes burned in emotion.

I look at Loki, I had counted on him hearing Thor's and my conversation.

"Loki you must know I had to." I breathed out. This was risky.

"I know... But I refuse it accept it." He hissed.

"I'll show you Loki if you want. I showed Thor." I pull my lips into a sombre smile.

"Sky... Do as you wish." His voice was set rigid in anger yet again.

"Very well. Brace yourself Loki." I murmured.

I pressed two fingers to his temple and focused on the encounter again, the sight of his skin being blue. The surprise and confusion that shot through me. How I recovered before seeing Frigga and Odin. How their words shocked me into a blank state. Neither fear or hatred was in me.

I could feel Loki gasp as I turned it to that morning when Loki came to wake me for magical training. My thoughts of how he might look in his other form. How beautiful his blue skin looked. How much empathy and familiarity I held for his situation.

"Sky." Loki murmured as I remove my fingers. It was hard to share things through the dreamscape.

"You would understand how that felt wouldn't you?" Loki took a deep breath.

"You understand how Thor coming before I hurts. You understand so much, you idiotic empathetic woman." Loki's words strung my heart when they became scornful. My heart hurt but my head was clear.

"I do understand Loki. I saw it, your relationship. Your pain. I know you and through a string of events I knew this could occur." Loki winced at my words.

"But I also know that this can be recovered. You can be saved Loki, though you must want it." I looked him dead in the eyes.

"Loki, I will help you if you wish it or not. I will not rest until I have tried, but I do understand that but I will be there for you no matter the personal cost." I reach up and clasp my hand on his shoulder.

"However Loki, you must know I cannot let you harm Midgard." There was growing tension in the space.

"Sky, you are no different than Thor." Loki mused as I quirked my eyebrow up.

"Thor wishes you well, I want the Loki I knew back," I mutter before one final glance at Loki.

"Goodnight." I let my hand fall before I end it on my part and pull my consciousness away.

***

When I wake up next it is seven in the morning and exhaustion blurs my vision. Naturally sending memories via dreamscape is hard and was only possible due to Loki being a sorcerer too.

I let myself fall out of bed and drag myself to the provided bathroom and shower. As I pull the sweaty clothing from me I note that my scars are more vibrant today, not a good sign but not a bad omen.

Steam fills the room and before taking my final layers off I glance around the room for cameras and electrical pulse where it shouldn't be. Finding none I continue to have my shower. The hot water running the night's terrors away. After my dreamscape I had my usual nightmares, it's happened for years going back as far as before I set foot in Asgard.

My head pounded and I almost topple over at the sudden pain. My vision blurs in waves synced with the pounding of my head. Blue waves edge my vision and I'm brought to my knees. The water from the shower gets cold, freezing and goose bumps break out over my skin. What was this?

I sucked in a deep breath before teleporting myself into the bedroom and in the same second used magic to put clothes on me instantaneously.

I was left gasping collapsed at the foot of my bed. I yanked the blanket down and tangled myself in it as if it would hide me from any prying eyes. Not that there were any cameras in here.

After a few minutes, the pain caused me to fall unconscious.

***

"Loki!" I yell out, the edge of panic made my voice waver.

"Loki?" I cry, my throat becoming restricted.

Footsteps thundered down the halls towards the room we used for training.

When the doors burst open I must have been blue in the face with tears rolling down my face.

Thor was with Loki when they sprung into the room. Their reaction was initially panic but a chilling realisation washed over Loki when he connected the dots.

One tiny cut had tiny dots of blood almost completely hidden by my sleeve. I was been suffocated by an invisible force and it was a vice grip over my airways. I was slightly hovering in the air and panic was my only expression.

"Sky, I need you to calm down." Loki tried pushing Thor back.

"Loki-" Thor started only for Loki to raise a hand to him.

"Sky, focus on us." My wandering eyes met his and held his gaze. It was firm but was forced into a calm stature.

"That's it, keep focusing on me." Loki kept talking to me.

The pressure was releasing and I was able to gasp for air. Thor relaxed a bit now that the blue was leaving my face. The force holding me up released completely and I dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.

"Sky!" Thor and Loki cried out at the unexpected drop to my knees.

I was about to continue my fall to the ground when arms wrapped around me. Loki held my face and carefully placed a hand on my throat somehow clearing my airway properly.

Thor held my shoulders helping me keep upright, his grip was only a little off bone crushing and had bruised me. After a little longer, I had come back around, Loki and Thor had stayed with me but didn't dare move me. When I blinked my eyes open and looked at them fresh tears threatened to fall but a crushing hug from Thor that caught both Loki and I stopped it.

Loki had eased Thor from the room and once he was sure I had calmed down he sat beside me on a chair.

"What do you think happened?" Loki asked, his voice was soft.

"I'm sorry, Loki," I muttered not meeting his gaze.

"Why would you be sorry?" He sounded cautious but kind still.

"My arm... I know you saw it." I look at my left arm, the pain not noticeable.

"Yes, I did see it but I don't understand it." Loki sounded confused but there was an underlying tone that implied that he knew it was bad.

"Midgardians... Sometimes when they get depressed or hurt so much they want to end it they start doing stupid things." I took a deep breath, I trusted Loki.

"I was one of them, I hurt so much I didn't want to live." I took another gasp of a breath, the lump in my throat felt like a golf ball.

"That's changed now but... I was looking at my arm and suddenly I remembered the pain and I just..." I trail off, the rest obvious.

"It's okay Sky, I think I understand what has happened now." Loki puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Loki?" I look at him.

"You might need to learn not only how to hide your emotions but to have a sort of switch to turn them on or off." Loki paused.

"You could work on figuring out how your magic ties in with your emotions. We might make progress with that." Loki looked like he hoped that was the option I'd choose.

"I like the latter." I smile weakly.

Loki wraps his and around me and rests his chin on my head.

"I'll protect you from those feelings, Sky, you won't have to worry about this happening again. I'll do better to protect you." Loki was whispering, the one volume we'd established that only I could hear it was that quite.

"Thank you, Loki, I mean it." I return the hug.

*~*~*~*

I snapped awake, I knew how to fix this. I focused my breathing, worked on rubbing my hands together like a nervous gesture and focused on what I was thinking.

My mind was ticking away in the background making me think about my feelings towards Loki and what this situation meant. What was going to happen in the future? SHIELD, the Avengers and so forth.

I had to accept that what was happening was reality and I couldn't- shouldn't- change that.

By the time I got my wits about me I was back to normal. My headache nothing but a dull thump. I stretched and looked at what attire I had put on in the split second.

Jeans and a shirt topped by a trench coat. Usual boots tied hair. The coat I hadn't worn in a long time and was probably needed.

"Sky?" Someone asked as they knocked on my door.

"Come in." I click my fingers fixing the room and my blotchy face.

Thor entered along with Tony.

"He wanted to see you," Thor explains.

Tony grasps my wrist and pulls me along with a smirk.

"Okay, so I have been ordered to see how useful you are with tech, Fury's orders." Tony was grinning.

"So you'll have to use computers." He spoke computers slowly.

"Tony Stark! I have been living on Earth for twenty years of my life! I know how computers work." I scoff and laugh at him.

"I'll take that as a challenge then!" He grinned as we talk to the labs.

***

An hour later I'm spitting out tech talk with Tony and Bruce so fast that Thor is sitting behind us in a confused daze. I hear a light chuckle from the back of me senses. Loki.

"Amusing. Who knew your Midgardian knowledge would come in handy?" Loki sneered.

"Loki, out of my head." I huff before trying to block him.

I look back towards the door as Steve enters. He looks at Tony and Bruce. Thor has slipped away.

I sit and blink at the group as they start to argue before Steve storms away.

I look at Tony's computer.

"I think it's smart." Tony and Bruce look at me.

"Finding out about SHIELD that is." Tony smiles at my comment.

"Yeah well just a little bit longer." The two return to their work.

I was about to leave and go find Thor when Fury arrives at the door. I blink repeatedly at him.

"Get back inside Sky." Fury growled.

Before I could tell what was happening insults were been shot left right and centre. More people joined and the fighting caused a painful emotional atmosphere that clouded my mind a bit.

I turn to Bruce as he was the last to speak before it grew silent. The silence had enveloped our group.

"I got real low, I decided to put a bullet in my head and guess what." There was a pause and I felt the tug of memories I was forbidden to remember.

"The other guy spat it out so I moved on. Started trying to help people who needed it." The room was silent.

There must have been words and actions I missed trying to fight the atmosphere because there were a few seconds of considerate silence.

"Not for long, Sky, I suggest you run or team up with me." Loki sang from my head again.

"What are you planning!?" I think back.

"You'll find out." I could feel him pull away.

Before I got a chance to process what was happening an explosion shook the craft before more sent the group flying. I crashed near Thor and went through a wall.

My head was bleeding, ears were ringing and I was painfully dizzy.

"What happened?!" I hear yells, I hear rubble being pulled away.

"Are you alright Sky?" Thor yelled at me.

"I'll be fine! Go!" I shout back.

With a nod, Thor takes off. I run through the halls looking for Loki's room going by presence.

My blood rushed through me pulsing around my head with throbs. My legs burned as I pushed myself past the human limit for the first time in forever. My breathing was shallow and raspy.

"What are you doing Loki?" I whispered as I veered around the last few corners.

I heard multiple crashing coming my way, there was a roar that followed. The Hulk was out on an aircraft. Bloody Brilliant.

I almost smacked into Agents barreling down the hall as I was running. Perhaps invisibility would benefit me right now.

With that thought in mind, I jumpstart the magic required to do so. In a matter of seconds, I was hidden in plain sight.

I keep going and end up barreling into Loki's room mere moments before the Hulk roars close by setting me on edge.

"Sky, how are you?" Loki walks around his cell.

"They kept you here. I can't actually believe it." I mutter.

"What's wrong with them keeping me here?" Loki smirks and tilts his head.

"Magic versus glass? Loki, we both know you've been playing them." I sigh and shake my head.

"You know me too well." Loki smirks and a cold hand is placed on my shoulder.

"We could do well together. We see flaws in each other's plans, like old times?" Loki whispered in my ear.

"Loki. You need to take five and not take over Midgard, you hear me? It's my second home Loki." I don't turn to look at him, we are both invisible after all.

The Hulk roared again, much closer. I also sensed Thor and Romanoff. Something was going to happen.

"You don't have a home." Loki's words cut me but I knew better.

"Both Asgard and Midgard can be my home Loki. I have places amongst both." I tilt my head slightly to look in the direction he was.

"No one can have two homes, not truly Sky." Loki almost yelled.

"No, we have two halves of a home. We don't belong anywhere. Half and half that make up a unique whole. Loki you must see that we have to make our own path in this world to be who we want to be." I spoke carefully. It was a risk using 'we' instead of 'I'.

"You speak like you know." Loki hissed.

"You were not lied to your whole life! You were not-" A loud crash cut Loki off as a wall was smashed through.

The Hulk had been pushed off the craft through the walls. Presumably by Thor as he rocked up towards Loki's cell next. Loki still had an image in the cell. The real Loki placed a hand over my mouth.

"Not a word Sky. I will not forget if you sell me out." Loki hissed in my ear.

I was pulled towards the control panel. Loki opened the door and I was too caught up in my situation to notice Thor get trapped in the cell before Loki revealed himself and me.

Thor had yelled and banged against the glass. Desperate pleas falling on deaf ears. Loki looked between me and the cage. He looked as if we were gauging a threat.

"Loki," I whispered.

Loki scrunched his eyes up in a scowl. The next thing I know I'm being pushed into the cell with Thor. Our wide eyes shoot backwards to find a smirking Loki.

I crash to the floor and Thor pulls me back up before running at the shut door.

"Loki!" I growl.

"You're better than this!" I fly at the glass with a right hook.

I could use my powers to teleport out but I had a feeling my energy would be better spent fighting whatever Loki sends Earth's way.

Thor roared out his brother's name before the hatch under us opened and we dropped. All sense of feeling blended in a numb annoyance. What did I expect? I wasn't on his side in this battle.

"Sky." Thor put a hand on my shoulder before swinging at the glass.

We would both survive the crash landing but I would be hurt, not to mention Hulk dropped down somewhere.

Continue Reading... Part 3

Tags: @17marvelousfreak