#A Circle of Uncommon Witches

[jolieeason]

July 2024 Wrap-Up

Here is what I read, posted, won, received, and bought in July. Let me know if you have read any of these books and what you thought of them. Books I Read: Books Reviewed: Ladykiller by Katherine Wood—review here Catch and Keep by Erin Hahn—review coming October 15th, 2024 Perfect Fit by Clare Gilmore—review coming October 29th, 2024 Given Our History by Kristyn J. Miller—review coming…

[bunchofdoodlesinspace]

ALRIGHT. So. Idk how many people (who are not my friends/mutuals and get to hear me rant about this show every other week) are aware, but I'm slightly obsessed with Winx Club. And I've talked off and on about these Winx redesigns I'm slowly chipping away at, and how doing them has sorta led me to rewriting the show itself, since I've redone a lot of the lore around the transformations (esp the later ones).

But because I'm a full-time university student majoring in character design with an interest in Not seriously injuring my wrist/hand, it's taking me. a while to make them (as of writing this, I have rough designs for all the main 6 girls up to Enchantix. 2 of them have finished designs which I shall be posting soon :D), so in the meantime I thought it'd be kinda fun to throw down some of the overall AU headcanons I have about the world and how it works. SO. with that I present:

Cup's Winx Rewrite AU Headcanons:

-What is known as the Magic Dimension/Universe in the show, in my version, is more like the term for a collective of various worlds, united through a variety of portals and links to the distant planet, Magix, which serves as an intergalactic capital. -Part of the reason that Magix exists in the way it does (both as the capital for the universe, as well as being where all three main magic schools in the show (Alfea, Cloud Tower, and Red Fountain) are located) is in part as a means to prevent another disaster like that which occurred at the hands of the Shadow Phoenix and the Ancestral Witches, which ultimately ended in the complete destruction of the planet, Domino. -The school's themselves both function as academic places of learning as well as training grounds for new guardians to learn how to protect themselves. Each school offers a different magical path for its students: Alfea, the path of Fairy Magic. Cloud Tower, the path of Witchcraft, and Red Fountain, the path of Wizardry (those who learn it being called "Specialists"). While it's uncommon, it is possible for students to switch paths if they find they aren't gelling with the one they started with. Everyone has the potential for any kind of magic, but that doesn't mean every kind of magic works for every person. -Oh, also, there's no gender specifications for any school. Fairies, witches, and specialists of any and every identity under the sun(s) exist in this world. -Fairies, witches, and specialists are not the Only magical beings to exist in the dimension. The planet Andros, notably, is home to not only many land-dwelling beings, but also to mermaids, who live in the Infinite Ocean, a realm that connects to all other oceans in the Magic Universe via numerous underwater gates. -Earth is, or rather, was part of the Magic Universe, for a very long time. This was up until the tragedy that befell the planet's magical creatures at the hands of the Wizards of the Black Circle. This led to its link being cut off from the rest of the other magical realms, and leaving its human society to develop in a world where magic remained a mystery. -This does not mean magic on Earth died. It continued to exist in the fringes, where it was safest for it to be allowed to develop. The bulk of it was/is maintained in Tir Na Nog, the Kingdom of the Earth Fairies, due to its extreme difficulty to locate by mundane means. -Another celestial object that was one connected to this network was one of Solaria's moons: Lumenia. Solaria claims to have lost contact with them eons ago, and refuses to make attempts to reopen the connection. -Since all of this IS rooted in a redesign project, I feel like I should note that there are a multitude of forms of varying power levels open for fairies to utilize. However, only 3 forms are actually taught at Alfea: Winx, Charmix, and Enchantix, Winx being the base form every fairy has the ability to use once they figure out how to tap into their powers. -Enchantix is one of the most powerful forms to exist. Once it is acquired, it serves to be the new base form over Winx. Gaining it also opens the doors for the fairy to acquire practically any other form to exist, most of which serve more to help in certain situations (eg.: Sirenix = Underwater needs). I'll go in-depth about the lore of each form once I've finished their designs. :)

I feel like. that covers most of my bases for now. I have. so many more thoughts sitting in my brain, if anyone is curious about anything please feel free to ask. I'm basically making myself stop for now bc I do have some homework I need to work on tonight JKHFJK

[creature-wizard]

Hello, your special interest in conspiracy theories might prove insightful for my predicament.

i've been having very strange things happening to me from a young age, and only in the past few years have i begun to accept them and embrace them. however, whenever i try to search for any information about them, i find these new age conspiracy rabbit-holes that as you've made clear are just thinly veiled white supremacist nonsense.

I wonder if transcendent experiences (in my case having direct, regular and positive interaction with a caring nonhuman entity as well as accurate premonitions for largely mundane future events) are not that uncommon but we either push them to the back of our mind and make them out to be wishful thinking or odd quirks of the brain.

That therein I think may be one of the reasons why the new age cult is the monster it is today: a vacuum of explanation and community for the very real and unexplainable experiences people leads them to new age sooner or later. In these rabbit-holes I often found people speaking of very similar experiences to mine but immediately attributing it to explanations provided by this cult, ones that i felt very deep in my gut to be bullshit.

Do you think the apprehension to discuss & believe genuine spiritual experiences for fear of a loss of acceptance by your peers is detrimental to non-new age spiritual communities? I observe that online pagan, witch, etc circles are rife with this apprehension, of either accepting their or others experiences, either actively or passively by adjusting language used to appeal to the assumed skepticism of the audience. New age, on the other hand, appeared to be far more accepting of the reality of these experiences.

A general unwillingness to consider strange and seemingly inexplicable events (spiritual experiences, UFO encounters, etc) without trying to apply a "rational" yet wholly inadequate explanation is absolutely a problem. The people who do this aren't even necessarily trying to be dismissive, but it can still often feel that way.

Meanwhile, New Age and the conspiracysphere in general will usually provide some sort of explanation that at least feels adequate, especially to those who aren't particularly scientifically or historically literate. (Although some people are so desperate that they'll set aside their scientific and historical knowledge.) New Age alien mythology, for example is of course chock full of nonsense, but it's still more validating than "you hallucinated it" or "you just saw a normal aircraft."

That said, I also don't think this is the only problem. People in general are just uncomfortable with not having answers, and don't really understand how having no answer is better than having a bad answer. Furthermore, people often perceive scientists as waffly and ignorant because scientists have a much better understanding of how much they don't know than the average person, and are therefore more hesitant to give firm answers; whereas conspiracy theorists, who are often incredibly ignorant as to how much they just don't understand, will just trumpet their beliefs with absolute certainty, and thus feel more likely to be right.

Overall I'd say there's a big cloth mother/wire mother problem going on, where New Age conspirituality often provides comfort and validation where more critical viewpoints typically do not.

Sometimes, people's egos just get in the way, like the person who has an incredibly vivid experience where they perceive a divine being telling them they're the reincarnation of Jesus Christ, and doesn't want to hear that maybe their experience shouldn't be taken at face value, and maybe they shouldn't go and start a cult over it.

So yeah, I'd say it's a combination of factors, and I think overall it could be helped by everyone coming to terms with not needing to have an answer or a solution to things like this all the time. We don't need to always assume that we already have enough information to adequately explain things like this, and that it's better to not have an answer than to come up with a bad one. And I think it could also be helped by understanding that just because the current "rational" answer is wholly inadequate, doesn't mean that the conspiratorial or spiritual one is any better. And I think we all need to be more aware of people's need for validation and comfort, and do our best to be more compassionate and understanding in general.

[guardianspirits13]

A discussion of nonbinary representation in media, as characterized by Raine Whispers

(+accompanying doodles of Raine living the trans experience, wether amab, afab, or neither :)

So here's the thing: we don't know if Raine is trans. It's not really mentioned or discusssd beyond using they/them pronouns and it makes sense to us based on the rules of our world that they are trans, but they exist in a very different place with very different rules. Since they are the only nonbinary character in the series (edit: other than Masha but they’re human so that’s a bit more black and white) and we have no context otherwise, it is equally possible that they transitioned at a young age or that it is possible for witches to be born as physically 'genderless', while uncommon.

I find this dilemma falls under the broader scope of the discussion of nonbinary representation in media. There are two main ways to portray nonbinary (particularly androgynous) characters: either playing it straight as it is with Raine, no questions asked, or by encorporating elements of the trans experience into their story or character.

The catch with nonbinary characters is that, opposed to binary trans characters, is that you don't know what gender they were assigned at birth (while this is generally rather obvious with binary trans characters). If written badly, it may feel disingenuous to have a nonbinary character whose birth gender is alluded to or "revealed". On the other hand, magically sexless nonbinary characters aren't always the best representation either, as a) there is no real way to 'pass' as nonbinary in the real world and b) even for androgynous identifying nonbinary people, complete androgyny is often an unattainable feat in the first place.

It is important to have characters who are realistically trans, including the less "pretty" parts of the transition process. It is an important lesson to have in media that you don't have to be flat-chested or clean-shaven or whatever to deserve respect for your identity.

And again, both types of nonbinary representation are good in their own ways, but it is important to be cognizant of this as I became when I began developing a nonbinary character of my own.

This has been circling in my mind for quite a bit and has just come back to me now with my mini-fixation on Raine. If you are nonbinary yourself and/or have any other (respectful) thoughts on this, I would love to hear them!

Thanks for reading!

[snootlestheangel]

A Guide to All Things Snootles

Primarily a COD blog but it's just straight brain rot. Lotta reblogs but also some very nifty homemade stuff. I am super friendly, I promise! Feel free to send any kind of ask/dm, I'd love the interaction :D

Here's my side blog dedicated to my OG work: @snootlessimperfectworld

Snootles-made ask game

Shadow Company OCs found under "Snootles's Shadow OCs" Initial Post and Ask Reblog; Ness Dump; Flash Dump; Truck Dump; Woody Dump: Here is Art of Ness and Here is a Comic ft. Ness I FUCKING LOVE THESE ARTISTS

The SoapGaz Bromance Series: 1st Post, 2nd, 3rd

Girl!Dad Price: OG Post; Incorrect Quotes (based on a work, see WIPs further down); Random Thing; Another Girl!Dad thing

Things for To Love, To Let Go: Post One, Some Things, Worldbuilding

Sleeptalking!Soap: The Reblog; The Ask

Gaz Has A Twin SIster: Proof, Further Evidence

Soap is Lightning, change my mind

Random YouTuber AU ft. GazAlex: AO3 Link, OG Post, Next Post, First Drabble;

My Posted WIPs:

Silence is Golden But Consequences are Red ;a SoapGhost fic; alternate universe; angst; slow-burn; features the SoapGaz bromance

Of Earthly Things ; SoapGhost fic, Cryptid!Ghost, Cryptid Hunters 141 AU; Cryptids, monsters, witches, demons: anything you heard fairytales of or anything warned about by the elders are very much real. Very real and very much a part of everyday life.The 141 is a small, private group composed of researchers and other cryptid enthusiasts that specialize in monitoring the inhuman populations around the UK. They offer their knowledge and resources to assist those dealing with issues regarding those that aren’t human. It isn’t uncommon for the 141 to help get rid of a goblin infestation, or relocate a fae circle to one of the designated areas. And life is pretty normal for the small team. At least, it is that way before the new hire. Something about him just doesn’t seem to be quite human…

Guardian of Mercy and Men : A Price x f!OC; Price encounters an old friend of his that he had fallen in love with all those years ago; some angst and fluff as they navigate their feelings for each other when she is assigned to the 141 as a combat medic.

To Love, To Let Go : Self-indulgent fic where, after an apocalyptic event in the US, Price meets a kid named Bailey Gray who has lost everything since The Incident. Together, with the help of Nik and the 141, they learn how to love new and let go of others.

Unending Devotion ; Dad!Price fic; he's a girl dad; NikPrice; Gaz is best big brother; daughter is animal hybrid; some angst, some fluff, and everything in between; about to feature a Graves hero arc

His Wounded Cry ; Wolfshifter!Ghost fic; SoapGhost; technically slow-burn?; Ghost gets a family again; just Ghost being loved like he deserves, okay? Here's the worldbuilding post

Dead City ; Left4Dead AU with Task Force 141 trying to survive the apocalypse. Has SoapGhost, some angst, some fluff, lots of cheesy jokes/references to Left4Dead, and Gaz being the unluckiest mf-er to ever exist

Break For Your Heart ; a GhostSoap Prison Break AU ft. Unhinged!Soap and Is Weird to Cope!Ghost; found under the tag "break for your heart" or "prison break au" or "it's unhinged!soap time"; ao3 link

Cheers to the Unknown ; Monster AU featuring Just A Dude!Ghost; random posts made here; most likely won't be full, coherent story, just ramblings all tagged under "cheers to the unknown" Here is the initial post that started this and here is the follow-up worldbuilding post

Random Short Works

It Means I Love You SoapGhost short; catshifter!Ghost

Artemis to His Apollo Gaz has a twin sister short fic

What Am I? SoapGhost angst short; comfort?

COD Boys Play A Board Game: exactly what it sounds like

Thistle A very painful short fic I did that has MCD but I used it as coping for losing a loved one

Screaming Into The Void A short SoapGhost angst fic set in an apocalyptic world

[charmixpower]

Here's some magic terms for my thingy!

Fairy:

Circle - Group of Faries that work together

• This is named after the fact that Fairy magic works best in even numbers

(cuz Fairy magic is based on emotions working with people you like makes convergence easier, convergence will fail if you dislike the people your working with, circles are EXTREMELY common. They used to be a big deal but now it's more of a way to denote a fairy friend group that does magic together)

Invocix - Fairy first form

• Named after how this form usually just happens after a fairy feels a strong emotion

Charmix - Fairy second form

• This is named after the fact that a recurring motif or symbol for a fairy usually appears in this form

Enchantix - Final natural Fairy form

• Fairy dust appears in this form and is a collection of pure magic, the easiest way to enchant something

Major Fairy - Connection to magi made core

• A Fairy can create an open magical source that all the local magical creatures to add into and feed off of, with the creator at the top

(The Fairy creates a large ball of magic and let's other magical creatures take from it and feed into it until it's stable. It's basically a weaker guardian Fairy but the core and everyone who feeds into it are more personal, reactive, and connected)

Guardian Fairy - Connection to all of one type of magic

• A fairy can draw extra magical power from the core but the relationship is cyclical, as if the core is harmed it will drain the fairies power

Harmonix - Connection to all of magic

• Musa named this form after how it allows the user to interact with any form of magic despite what kind it is

Nymphix - Control of all of magic

• Magi who got the elemental forms where called Nymph's once upon a time, when this form was discovered it was named after this

Witch:

Coven - Group of Witches that work together

• Word comes from how Witches often treat their groups more business-y than fairy circles

(cuz Witch magic isn't based on emotions they are less likely to form groups that they work permanently with like Faries do, so covens are pretty uncommon. Tho some witches like the Trix like to stick to the old ways of picking like 2 other people you trust and only working with them. That or some people just like working with their friend group)

Glamourix - Witch first form

• From the word Grammar, based on how Witches study to reach their forms (that's actually where the word comes from isn't that neat?)

Emblemix - Witch second form

• This is when Witches have enough control over their forms to create a magical emblem that their magic relateds to themselves

Conjorix - Final natural Witch Form

• This is also named after how witches intentionally make their magic form

Major Witch - Connection to magi made core

• A Witch can create an open magical source that all the local magical creatures to add into and feed off of, with the creator at the top

(The Witch pulls a small bit of magic from all magical creatures, creating a magic hub for them to pull from when they need more magic. It's basically a weaker guardian Witch but the core and everyone who feeds into it are more personal, reactive, and connected)

Guardian Witch - Connection to all of one type of magic

• A witch can connect more deeply with magical power from the core but the relationship is cyclical, as if the core is harmed it will drain the Witches power

Concordix - Connection to all of magic

• Musa named this form after how it allows the user to interact with any form of magic despite what kind it is (Tecna helped)

Nymphix - Control of all of magic

• Magi who got the elemental forms where called Nymph's once upon a time, when this combined form was discovered it was named after this

Wizard:

• There is no name for like a group of Wizards that work together because thankfully such a thing has never happened! *Chough Chough* I wonder why the planet Earth has basically no magic on the surface and has never made intergalactic contact with us? It's probably nothing

If there WAS a name it would be very dramatic

• Wizard magic is inherently unnatural (being made from a fairy and a witch core being smashed together, and getting your magic core removed kills you. To make a wizard at least one person gonna die) and follows its own steps of power, leading to the naming system being completely different

Magus - Wizard first form

Mage - Wizards second form

Archimage - Wizard final "natural" form

• All are named after Magi, the broadest term for magic user

Warlock - Connection to all of one type of magic

• Breaker of Oaths, not trusted to protect anything

Devil - Control of all magic

• Wizards due to their nature of being formed form a Fairy or Witch that stole a core of the other type cannot have a balanced form, their magic naturally takes (This has never happened before but people are, rightfully, terrified of it)

Elemental forms -

Dryadix - The elemental form of Earth. Named after the witch Dryad. A boon of the Earth Dragon, gifted to magi by the Rustics

Naiadix - The elemental form of Water. Named after the Witch Naiad. A boon of the Water Dragon, gifted to magi by the Selkies

Auraix - The elemental form of Air. Named after the witch Aura. A boon of the Air Dragon, gifted to the magi by the Sylphs

Avernaix - The elemental form of Fire. Named after the Fairy Averna. A boon of the Fire Dragon, gifted to the magi by the Loji

Hesperix - The elemental form of Aether. Named after the Fairy Hesper. A boon of the Aether Dragon, gifted to the magi by Pixies

(the stupid little bonding creatures have a purpose now! Yaya!)

[kintsug1kitsune]

battle in the low market

The lower-city market was dark even given the world's eternal night.

Concrete pavement meshed with cobblestone and brick, messy walkways twisting through the depths of the city, which towered all overhead, bridges and highways and towers and skyscrapers, all netted together in a neon-lit, hologram-strewn tangle.

Down here, only simple streetlights lit-up the darkness, but still many crowded about, all walks of life come to this gray place to find uncommon and illicit wares. Neverborn beside dolls beside hollows, reapers and Daughters and wildborn, those with wolf heads and animal parts.

I came to this bazaar for a particular type of ether, distilled shatter, a liquid emanation useful in my Mistress's more destructive spells. I hardly dressed-up, a lacy combat thread crop-top and shorts, dangling with knives and sewn with intricate lunar designs. My six arms were free to fiddle with each other as I perused various stalls, searching for my quarry--

And finding a different objective altogether.

My tail whipped the air twice, long and porcelain-plated and sharp-edged, and my five eyes locked with another combat doll's set of two. My rubies to its sapphires. But that was negligible--what actually stood-out was the musical notes printed across its cheek, the symbol of the Witch of Winds. The two of us recognized each other, me from its mark and it from the etchings and paint of cherry blossoms and flowers across my right side and arm.

We chattered in combat-dollspeak, a sharp and cutting dialect that nonetheless rhymed and twisted and chittered beautifully in our language.

"Target found," I said, stalking towards the other.

"Received. Target found," it said, lumbering towards me. It was taller than me, 215 centimeters to my 190, and built thick, strong, tree-like arms and legs made of fine ceramith, ablative porcelain like me. Mine alabaster-white, its own a bluish color, covered by a long white combat dress.

I looked up to it, about a half-meter away, and we eyed each other, taking one another's measure. "Identify," I asked.

"This one is the Wallbreaker," it responded; a title, something storied combat dolls kept among themselves, earned from high deeds. "Identify."

"This one is the Ashveil," I answered. "Confirm threat."

"Confirmed."

We began circling one another, my tail caressing the air, its built-in organ pipes whistling as it flexed its heavy fingers. The market crowd began clearing out a circle for us, everyone looking in on the combat dolls squaring-up, muttering amongst each other, taking bets; it was a gritty enough part of town that no shops closed-up, but instead their keepers watched on.

"That one's Witch is enemy to this one's," I hissed to my opponent, raising my hands into a lax combat stance, top two arms on defense, lower sets open with their voidkrystal claws extended, glowing magenta softly. "This one will prove Her superiority."

"Received," Wallbreaker answered, and smirked, jaw splitting along its cheeks to show a gaping maw of ritesteel fangs. "That one will fail."

In a split second it dashed at me, throwing its arm at my face, a column of battle-ready ceramith--I batted it aside and followed-up, punching at its chest with all three of my right-side hands.

In a core-tick it rose its leg and clenched its other arm down, forming a wall that my fists bounced off of, porcelain clattering against porcelain--then Wallbreaker swung around its ramming arm to try to catch me from behind, reaching around my back.

My eyes caught it, and I felt all my gears click perfectly into place, pistons sliding within me as I ducked the blow--then my enemy's knee came to strike my face; I crossed all of my arms and blocked the hit, sliding back across the pavement but keeping firm.

But Wallbreaker pressed, charging at me again to ram me with its whole body--I leaped to the side, dancing around it, and we ended up a few meters apart, staring each other down again.

"Form 01," I commented, "Classic style." And without warning, I jumped--my legs hissed through the air and battered Wallbreaker with a flurry of flying kicks, all blocked; I fell to the ground, pivoted, and jumped straight up with my leg extended, slipping under its guard and smashing it in the chin, sending the other combat doll reeling back.

In the same motion, I spread my wings and took to the sky, sharp and silvery feathers around spell circles--without stopping, I drove an assault into the enemy with my legs, whirling through the air and kicking, slashing at it with my sharp high-heels.

As I rebounded off it, Wallbreaker stared up at me and hissed. "Killing Rapture? That one has trained with angels."

"Received. False," I hissed back, "It has killed enough angels to learn the style."

No more talk--the other doll crouched and flung itself up, boosters in its feet propelling it into the air to try and piledrive me out of it; I easily flitted back and dodged, but as Wallbreaker fell, it wheeled around and out of its wrist shot a bundle of taut metal cables--they wrapped my legs and yanked, hard.

The wind whistled in my horns as I crashed to the ground, leaving a web of cracks in the pavement and none in me. Across, Wallbreaker landed, hitting the stone with a thud--I was still tangled. Thinking fast, I channeled witchfire from my core and melted out of the cables, instantly springing to my feet.

Just in time--my opponent was howling, jaw split and gaping wide to devour me as it charged; it tried to hammer down on my head, I weaved aside, and it grabbed my top-right arm.

I grabbed its own right arm with my top-left and let loose the claws on my two lower-right sets--and drove them into Wallbreaker's side, tearing apart blued ceramith with voidkrystal sharper than diamond.

It shrieked briefly and rose its leg--stomped it down, trying to break my foot. I slid out of the way, still holding its right wrist, and went to dig my lower-left sets of claws into its other side.

But Wallbreaker had none of it and suddenly slammed its head into mine, getting a wild scream from the crowd watching--I was undeterred. My jaw split, three-way, and I bit at my enemy--it bit back, a gnashing of metal fangs as our heads wove around each other, bodies tangled together, grappling close.

Abruptly, I whipped my head and slammed my horns into Wallbreaker's head, sending it reeling--this was my chance! I threw myself forwards, gears shrieking, and shoved all six of my fists into its frame--chained the move into a roundhouse-kick, and spun, slashing across it with my tail, throwing it to the ground and leaving a massive gash across its porcelain.

I looked down at my defeated foe. "Breaking Demon Hand," I explained. "This one learned it from neverborn pirates."

Wallbreaker lay on stony ground, organ pipes hissing weakly. "…This one learned it from its siblings. This one yields to retreat. Disengaging."

"Disengaging," I answered, giving a chitter. "Good fight."

The crowd rattled amongst itself, bets cashed-in, as I walked off into it, folding my wings back into my body. Now, where could I find some shatter…?

[oddinarinote]

exposing my irresponsible spending by sharing a template to my manga collection notion page !!

i haven’t logged in here for a while so i just saw that  @finalgirlkobeni asked for this template days ago, my apologies lmao.

you can find the template here: https://arimoma.notion.site/Manga-Collection-Template-f8e9ceb9859d4930a2934bdd595abe2e 

simply click ‘duplicate’ to add to your notion workspace. the layout goes as follows:

one page per series / standalone volume, inside the page a checklist with the released volumes, check the ones you own to keep track of which you need to buy next !

tag property, including: “finished/publishing” aka if the series is done being published and all volumes are available to purchase or not / “completed/ongoing” for if you own all the volumes or not / “high prio/paused” i use this for the ones i want to buy as soon as i can versus the ones i have no hurry to get / “standalone” self explanatory / “special ed” for series i’m buying in uncommon formats (ex. kanzenbans) or that include stuff with new releases making them more expensive (ex. witch hat atelier always includes some merch in my country)

‘owned’ property, to display the cool circle thingy of the percentage u own

‘price’ property, i use this to sort by how much each series’ volumes cost and manage my budget better

the thumbnail of each page is the image on said page’s cover, helps find the series quickly

everyone feel free to duplicate, edit and share the template !! no need to link back to me so don’t stress if u delete my credits at the bottom lol. (however if u try to profit off this i will hunt u down xoxo) also if u improve the format and add cool equations and stuff tell me i’d love to see !! yipeee

[violetsaffron5]

Infinity

| Ao3 | Discord 18+ | Series Masterlist | Taglist | Chapter 7 |

6 | Training

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Meet Shoko, training with Gojo

Words: 5380

Genre: JJK Universe with slight additional fantasy elements bc reader is not a sorcerer

cw/an: horrible Alvin and the Chipmunks, some body horror stuff with the curse

“I’m Ieiri Shoko, but you can just call me Shoko. It’s nice to meet you,” the brown haired woman in the morgue explains before Ijichi scampers off.

When you arrived at the school in the morning, he met you at the Torii gates, leading the way through campus, giving a proper tour of the facilities and land the school owns.

The last stop being the morgue. You’re told when Satoru arrives, he’ll meet you here, but first you need to have a physical and a few other tests completed. All standard and normal procedures for sorcerers.

Of course, this had you chuckling to yourself because you do technically meet the definition, but you’re not really sure you’re able to do anything like what Satoru has displayed he’s capable of.

You’re not really sure what to do, so you awkwardly extend your hand. She looks up from her notepad with a raised eyebrow, extending her own small, delicate hand. 

Taking the opportunity presented, you quickly look her over. Long white lab coat akin to that of a doctor. Dark circles under her eyes, like she hasn’t slept in days, but despite that, she’s stunning.

“I didn’t realize sorcerers could be doctors. Does that make you a witch doctor?” You chuckle nervously at your own lame joke. “Wait. Is that offensive?”

She doesn’t reply, just gives a soft smile returning to her notes for several minutes before setting it down on her desk, returning to your earlier question about being a doctor.

Shoko explains her technique to you. How she’s able to heal others with her cursed energy, how that’s rare for sorcerers to be able to do. It’s more common for others to be able to only heal themselves, much like you do, Satoru can do it too, but that’s also fairly uncommon.

The morgue is cold and bleak, as you sit on the metal table off to the side of the room. Metal refrigerated cabinets for bodies line the wall, and tiles line the floor with a few drains in the center of several tiles. Aside from a desk and a few metal benches, there’s not much to see in this room.

The room is quiet, the only sound filling the room coming from the velcro of the arm band she’s placed on you to check your blood pressure. It squeezes your arm uncomfortably as she pumps it, checking the time on the wall behind you before twisting the knob on top, the air hissing out of the band as it deflates.

So far, this is all oddly normal. You half expected there to be some sort of witchery involved for this kind of stuff, but Shoko is sitting there taking notes. Grabbing all of her little instruments like this is normal, everyday life for her.

Shoko has you stick your tongue out, placing a wooden stick on your tongue as she uses a light to check the back of your throat. Taps your knee with a patellar hammer to check your reflexes and shines another light in your eyes to check your pupils, leaving black and white dots in your vision for several minutes.

There’s a thought in the back of your mind you can’t shake, which makes your hands cold and clammy. Is Shoko on your side like Satoru, or will the information she’s collecting on you go to the higher ups, so they know how to kill you, should the time come?

“Nervous?” She asks quietly, stethoscope pressed to your chest as she listens to your lungs and heartbeat.

“A little, yeah.” You answer quietly, arching your back as she places the cold metal in the center of your back.

She doesn’t make much conversation. A few comments here and there, but she’s likable nonetheless. Maybe, if she isn't pro-killing you, the two of you can be friends one day. It would be nice to have someone to spend time with occasionally.

You watch as Shoko writes notes on occasion, eventually asking you about your abilities. The one topic of conversation you were sure was going to present itself. You’re sure she’s already heard about the things you can do, the things you’ve done, but you explain anyway as she writes more notes, nodding along the way.

“You’re able to heal from physical cuts and bruises, easily. I wonder if the same would apply to common colds and other illnesses,” Shoko says to herself, tapping her pen against her chin, “or even an STD since you survive off sexual energy.”

Your eyes widen at her thoughts, “if you ever try to do anything like that to me for your own curiosity, I will fuck Ijichi on top of your grave.”

Before Shoko’s able to clarify her thoughts, Satoru and Geto walk into the room. Satoru sits at one of the metal benches in his school uniform, eyes covered with his round glasses as Geto stands next to him, legs and arms crossed, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

Shoko decides to move on with her examination, grabbing her tweezers, a cup and a few vials, before returning to your side.

“I’d like to get a few samples of blood, hair and urine from you, if you’re okay with that.”

You shrug, “sure. What are you going to do with it?”

“Research to see how you’re different. Though truth be told, I’m not sure we will get an answer from this, but we might as well exhaust all options.”

Delicately, Shoko plucks a few strands of hair from your head, and takes two vials of blood before having you use the restroom next to her office, returning with the filled cup, and placing it on her desk.

Once she’s done and has everything marked and tagged properly, Satoru grins, telling you to go out the way you came and he’ll meet you outside soon for training.

“... and then she threatened to fuck Ijichi on my grave, so that was… pleasant.”

Satoru throws his head back in a spirited laugh, “that’s my girl.”

“What do you mean, “your girl”?” That was Shoko’s response.

“You hadn’t heard? Our friend here couldn’t wait to shove his dick in her.” Geto explains, telling Shoko how he walked in on the two of you.

The tips of Satoru’s ears turn red and he huffs at the memory of being interrupted by his best friend.

Shoko rolls her eyes, no stranger to the white haired sorcerer’s escapades, but does give him a little smile. Her own way of saying nice, now that she’s seen you.

Suguru groans, obviously annoyed with his two friends. “We don’t even know what she is. You can’t keep it in your pants for five minutes?”

“Hey! I waited a day,” he answers, shoving a piece of chocolate from his pocket in his mouth, “besides, you should all be thanking me.”

“Thank you for sleeping with her?” Shoko asks, amused.

“Yeah, otherwise we’d have another dead body. So really I took one for the team.”

“It is valuable to know sorcerers will live.” Shoko’s pulling out her notebook again, scribbling several notes down.

“Well, I will. Maybe not others.”

Both Shoko and Suguru give him a strange look, “other sorcerers will likely be fine too.” Shoko points out, “Or really, anyone with above average abilities.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He grumbles, a small pout apparent on his features.

“Alright. Can we hurry this up now? I’d like to get some sleep.”

“You’re going to sleep?” That was Suguru, scoffing because he already knows the answer.

“No, I have several rounds to make and patients to check up on. A few surgeries are scheduled for this afternoon too.”

Satoru isn’t paying attention. He’s zoned out, having removed the glasses from his face, watching the residuals of your energy outside the door to the medical facility.

Shoko and Geto do a little recap, discussing the bodies they’ve found over the last few months. Drained, but impossible to determine how at the time, despite their bodies still being filled with blood.

Satoru watches intently as Yu Haibara comes over, greeting you with a wave. He frowns as he watches your two energies embrace in a hug, your form more stiff than his. Of course he’s giving you a hug. A small annoyed groan leaves Satoru as he rolls his eyes.

“... all were found with smiles on their faces.”

“I can tell now why,” Gojo snickers to himself, only half listening to what’s going on around him.

And there’s Nanami, coming over to greet you as well. You shake his hand, probably with a smile. Satoru suspects he’s inviting you to lunch, to eat at the little cafe he goes to every day and he ticks his jaw at the thought.

“Whore.” Geto mutters to himself.

Satoru clicks his tongue at his friend's comment, “I’ve seen you stick your dick in much w-”

“Moving on.” Shoko announces sternly. “I would like to see what she’s capable of and how she heals. I’m thinking it may be like my technique, but has to take energy from others to use it. It’s hard to tell without having seen it in action.”

Satoru ignores her curious thoughts. Because he has seen it. Instead, he turns his attention back to you. The way your body rolls with laughter at something Nanami and Haibara are saying.

“... would love to get some raw data on her and really get into the composition of her makeup.”

“Are you listening, Satoru?” Suguru asks, an obvious annoyance in his tone.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Get into her raw. Already have.”

“Christ. Did you even use your infinity?” Suguru again, through clenched teeth. Afterall, you’re his least favorite topic of conversation and here he is, talking with one friend who is fascinated with you and your genetics, while the other is fascinated with you for other, completely unrelated reasons.

Satoru purses his lips, hesitating to answer.

“Oh for fucks sake man. I get her pussy was good but she could have -”

“It’s not that!” Satoru whines, tearing his eyes away from you, taking a deep breath. “First, she’s technically a non-sorcerer who has no idea what’s going on. So, I’m not going to kill her. Second, I think there’s more to her than meets the eye. I want to find out what it is. Third, her pussy is great.”

“Wow. Okay. I’m leaving now.” Shoko announces as Suguru gives Satoru an unamused look, one the strongest ignores, stating he needs to leave too, and get to training with you.

“Could just kill her, throw her into a ditch somewhere and be done with all this. Let the humans clean up her mess,” Suguru mutters to himself.

Once Satoru was done, he met you outside and led you out to the forest behind the school, hands in his pocket, whistling along the way as the birds chirped happily in the background, until you were both standing in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by trees.

The buildings of the school are nowhere in sight, but he says you’re still on campus.

“Alright,” he smiles, facing you, “hit me with your most powerful technique.”

You let out a low laugh and raise your eyebrows staring at him until you realize he’s not joking. He really wants you to hit him.

“How do you expect me to do that,” he gives a quizzical look as you walk close to him, “when you have this?”

Trying to place your hand on his chest, you’re stopped shortly, a force whirring between the two of you, before your hand falls, landing gently against the soft fabric of his uniform, where it couldn’t moments earlier.

Smiling, you look up, only to be met with a shit eating grin plastered on his face, “that’s my infinity.”

“Well, don’t use it. That’s not fair.”

“Fiiiiine,” he whines before you grab the collar of his uniform and pull him in for a kiss, easily slipping your tongue past his lips, tasting the familiar warmth of his mouth.

It doesn't take him long to accept it, wrapping an arm around your waist, placing the other on your cheek, letting out soft groans as a small trail of energy goes between you when you pull away slightly. His hand squeezes your hip, before pulling you closer; his kiss is hot, aggressive, needy.

And then your fist makes contact with his jaw. You wince, shaking out your hand, wondering if you’ve broken it - of course his jaw looks sharp as steel, but you didn't expect it to feel that way too.

“Ha - you bitch,” he rubs his jaw, “good job distracting me. I gotta admit, you punch harder than I thought.”

Before he’s had time to recover, you try to take him by surprise again, which just results in him laughing as the two of you fall to the ground. As you sit up, legs on either side of his waist, you giggle about how ridiculous this all seems, and for actually fucking punching him in the face.

He licks the small amount of blood from the corner of his mouth, from when you punched him, and you look so fucking proud of yourself. But in reality, you have no clue what you’re in for.

Slowly, his hands creep up your thighs to rest on your hips and you already know this is going to be a problem. How you’re supposed to be taking this seriously, yet you’re in the middle of the woods trying to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together, quite literally, on top of him.

He grins, the sharp edges of his canines on full display when you’re suddenly hurled off him, full force into a tree.

You gasp, the wind getting knocked out of you before slumping to the ground. Satoru walks over, offering a hand but you refuse, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, trying to process what just happened.

 “Come on,” wiggling his fingers, he keeps his hand outstretched, “you still have a lot to learn.”

Huffing, you take his hand and stand, patting away the dirt on your uniform, as he continues.

“Now, we’re gonna do that again. And this time, you’re going to try to hit me, okay?”

It doesn't take long for your uniform to rip in several places; on the shoulders, elbows, knees, a few other small holes here and there from tree branches. Twigs and leaves are in your hair, dirt from the forest is smeared across your hands and face.

And aside from the first one, you haven't landed a single punch.

Yet you still can't help the feeling he’s taking it easy on you.

You’re tired, having been spending your days with Satoru training. He’s been taking it easy on you, you’ve learned. And he is, in fact, the strongest. He wasn’t lying about that.

Now, he has you practicing with weapons, which you’ve learned you’re a natural at. He says he can teach you the basics, but it would be best to train with Nanami, since he uses a sword of sorts and can help develop your technique a bit more.

He’s had you do this for several hours, multiple times over the course of the week. Satoru says there are a few reasons he has you doing this so often.

One, is for your aim. He has targets set up in the forest by the school, hidden behind trees, in shrubbery, a few in plain sight.

Two, he wants you to try and put your energy into the weapon. It hasn’t worked so far.

The third he hasn’t told you about it yet. Says he wants you to focus on the first two before moving on.

With two throwing stars in hand, you aim at the target in front of you, easily throwing one into the smallest circle available.

Bullseye, you smile to yourself as you see Satoru appear at your side.

“Can you hand me the six inch?” You ask for the small knife, aiming the second star before throwing it. It lands right next to the other, right in the center.

“Add a little more than four inches to that, and then I can.”

The two of you haven’t been together since you left the club over the weekend, but it hasn’t stopped him from insinuating he’s interested.

It’s not that you’re not interested in hooking up again, because you definitely are. But you’re more tired than you ever have been before. Training. Learning about this life you’ve been thrown into. Perhaps sleeping with him and taking more energy would alleviate that symptom.

But there’s something freeing about dealing with this. Getting home in the evening, cooking a small dinner and letting sleep take over your body. It makes you feel human. Normal.

Satoru on the other hand has had no rest. He’s been with multiple women this week. Some alone. Some along with their friends. Chasing that high, that feeling he had when he was with you, with no luck.

He pouts, bringing you the knife you asked for as you steady yourself. Aiming at the next target, just behind the last.

Then there’s a pair of large hands on your hips. You try to ignore them.

Hot breath on your neck. Harder to ignore. So you nudge your shoulders as a set of lips ghost your skin.

A chuckle with a soft lick to the shell of your ear as the hands trail up your waist, giving a firm squeeze.

You clench your thighs together, trying to focus on aiming the damn knife, but you can’t not feel the way his thumbs caress your skin, just below your breasts. His thumbs draw small circles, grazing the underside of your tits ever so lightly with every stroke.

“Throw it,” he whispers into your ear, the warm air sending shivers down your spine as you do what he’s asked… and miss the target completely.

“What a shame,” he whispers quietly by the shell of your ear, keeping the goosebumps present on your skin. “Try again.” He hands you a different knife this time.

Taking a deep breath, you try to ignore him. Just as you throw the knife, he bites into the soft spot below your ear causing you to yelp out in surprise. He chuckles against you as the knife misses again.

“Can you stop that?” you ask annoyed.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Reason number three. Distractions.”

“Do you really think a curse user is going to be doing this while fighting with me?” You ask incredulously.

He has his legs spread wide behind you now, so he’s no longer leaning down. The perfect height to be at the shell of your ear, hands splayed across your stomach feeling your deep breaths.

Satoru hands you another knife. He’s silent as you aim, swiping his thumb over your nipple as you throw it, making you miss a third time. You gasp and tense from the interaction as he chuckles before placing his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“With your abilities… there could be situations where you need to be doing things like this,” it’s a whisper, barely audible. You don’t miss the way he grits his teeth slightly or squeezes your side as he says it.

It’s the end of the week now, and Satoru says you’re going on your first “field test,” which is really just the woods you’ve become more familiar with behind the school.

You’re going to be fighting a curse, he says. And you couldn’t be more nervous.

There’s no doubt this was going to happen, but did it really have to be so soon? You’ve failed all your tests and practices during the week by trying to imbue your energy into weapons. And you know from previous life experience that you’re unable to kill a curse as it stands now.

So what the hell are you realistically supposed to do?

Satoru comes up behind you, wrapping a corset around your waist, taking the time to adjust the strings and tie it in the back for you.

“What the hell is this? And where did you get it?”

It’s white, clearly vintage in the way it shapes the waist, small black buttons lining the front. The top rim and down the back is laced with a small blue ribbon - it’s pretty on its own, but when you have the prettiest blue eyes to compare them to, the ribbon is almost ugly.

“A corset. Believe it or not, I found it in a wedding shop the other day. Perfect timing.” He says, pulling the strings tight around the back, making sure it’s not going to fall off.

“And what’s this for?” You question with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugs, before lowering a curtain. Something Ijichi explained to you earlier in the week. It’s dome shaped, looks as if it’s becoming night, despite being the middle of the day. Once it’s completed, you note you can’t really see outside of it. It’s almost like a kaleidoscope.

In front of you stands a creature you didn’t notice before. It’s a woman, or was at one point.

She’s thin, gaunt cheeks with tired, droopy eyes, one of them almost popped out. Her eyebrows are way too thin, and sit way too high over her eyes. The lips that sit below her nose are entirely way too large to have ever been natural as well.

She’s in a corset too. White, stained red with what you can only presume is blood. Waist so thin you could wrap your hands around on either side and intertwine your fingers. Internal organs are spilling out from a hole in the center of the fabric, as if they were compacted entirely way too tight, for way too long and they had no choice but to burst through one day.

The smell is horrible - like a combination of rotting skin and piss. And her skin most definitely looks like it’s rotting with the way pieces of it are hanging off her skin.

“What’s with her?” You ask curiously, nodding your head towards the fragile creature hobbling towards you.

“Curse born of beauty standards. Thought this one was a nice touch, given your powers.”

“You’re insufferable. Take it off me.”

“You wanna get naked? Right now? With a curse standing there?” He teases. You glare at him. “Exorcise it, and then I’ll take your clothes off.”

You continue to glare at him as he smirks.

He’s selfishly hoping you fail, so he can swoop in and save you by letting you ride his dick in the middle of the forest to heal. He’s nothing if not selfless.

This curse is maybe a little stronger than what he thinks you can handle. Totally for testing your prowess and not for riding his dick reasons.

“What am I supposed to do?”

He rolls his beautiful crystalline eyes. “You need to exorcise it. Obviously.”

“Ah, yes, exorcise it. Great plan. That’s like telling a drowning person to breathe. You’re kind of a shitty teacher.”

He gives a toothy grin, “that’s Gojo-sensei to you, baby.”

“No. You would like that way too much.” He juts out his lower lip in a pout.

The curse hobbles on its feet toward you, wearing shoes that are entirely way too small for her body. If this curse is based on beauty standards, then this is one you’re aware of. How feet used to be more desirable if they were smaller, so women would break their feet to fit in smaller shoes.

Poor thing.

 “And how do you think I can kill it? I don’t exactly have cursed energy.”

“You gotta figure that out.”

“Are you serious right now? I’ve known about curses for all of 5 minutes. How do you expect me to ‘figure it out’?”

He shrugs, not giving a real answer to your questions. And now you’re questioning if he even knows either.

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoff, watching the curse as she continues to shuffle in your direction.

“Thanks, I think so too,” he gives an infuriating smile.

The curse is close enough to the two of you know, that she looks between you for several seconds before letting out an ear splitting scream.

“Can you just hold on a minute? I’m a little busy.” You hold up your index finger, as if she’ll know what this means.

“Did you just tell a curse to hold on?”

“I did. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, not at all. You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Wow. Should have fucking drained you when I had the chance.”

“You’ll have more,” He smiles and chuckles, leaning in close, you can feel his breath on the shell of his ear. “And I encourage you to try.”

You groan, he laughs. “Listen, I can’t give you all the answers. You’re going to have to figure some things out on your own.”

He really wants to watch you use your powers before giving you a weapon but if you’re mad, maybe that will help. Maybe your energy works in a similar manner as cursed energy.

The curse is close to you now, and you notice Satoru is no longer standing by your side. When she swipes at you with long nails - like what you would imagine Sleeping Beauties would look like if she never woke up - you jump back.

Up close you’re able to see her cracked skin and thick makeup, red large lips and eyelashes that are too full and too long. She lurches towards you again, so you dodge to the right this time.

“P-preeetttyyy,” the curse cries out with a raspy smoker's voice.

You dodge each time she swipes her claws at you, but you need a plan. You’ll quickly run out of stamina at this rate, but you’re not sure what to do. And Satoru is no help, standing off to the side doing god knows what on his phone.

Over the week, you learned you’re nowhere near as fast as Satoru, and you’re not sure you could ever be that quick, even when he’s not using his techniques. The one thing you know you can do is use your technique.

When the curse swipes again, you run around her side, and hop on her back. Her body is so fragile though, you’re not entirely sure she’s going to be able to hold any weight. No matter how large or small.

It won’t matter in the end because you’re pulling her face towards yours, placing your lips on hers.

And it’s disgusting.

Easily the most horrifying thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. And the taste of her energy is worse. Some people taste like nothing, Satoru is a little sweet. This curse tastes like depression and death. This is hands down the worst thing you have ever tasted, it boils in your stomach until you're hunched over on the ground retching.

“Nuh uh, down girl.” You hear Satoru say next to you, and the curse goes flying a safe distance back. If you were able to pay attention, you would have noticed she was about to attack you. But he wouldn’t let that happen. “So, you really can’t hurt it, huh?”

You shake your head, spitting the remaining saliva from your mouth before wiping it away with the back of your hand.

“Curses aren’t really alive, they’re pure cursed energy. But hey, now we know you can’t live off of that, and you’ll get sick if you try!”

You give a small pitiful smile as you stand to your feet. He hands you a katana, pulling it out of… well, you’re not sure where. Might as well have been thin air since you haven’t noticed it this entire time.

“Really? This is the weapon you’re giving me?”

He shrugs, “thought you’d look hot with it. I’m not wrong.”

You sigh, accepting the weapon as Satoru goes back to the tree he was standing next to, leaning back on it with his arms crossed, watching intently this time.

The curse is obviously hurt after his blow. Her hobbling is worse now, one foot dragging on the side of her ankle, while trying to maintain balance on the other with each step. Despite being mangled, she’s still quick.

You’re still recovering from your little mishap earlier, so when the curse swipes at you once again, she gets you in the leg as you try to hop away. A trail of blood trickles out on your leg and down the pants of your uniform. It stings, but it’s not too bad.

Realistically, dodging can’t be your only plan. And you’ve spent enough time with Satoru this week to learn he’ll inevitably grow impatient if you don’t do something soon.

Looking at the curse, it makes your skin crawl, and you can’t help but wonder if all of them are like this. Disgusting. Wistful and sad. The fact that this thing was born from hatred and jealousy of beauty standards through the ages, and how every so often she keeps calling you beautiful is definitely kicking the creepy factor up a notch.

“Soo-oo pretty.”

“Yeah, I know. You think I’m pretty. Get in line.” You grumble.

The weapon Satoru gave you is imbued with cursed energy, so when she claws at you again, you grab her by the wrist and twist. Her skin is cold, and feels like leather, but is also incredibly thin like paper. With her wrist in hand, you shove her to the ground where she lands with a “humph.”

She lurches forward again, aiming for your feet so you kick her in the face. Her head snaps back as she lets out a shrill cry.

As quickly as you can, you take the blade and slide it through her skin a few times. It cuts like butter as she lets out an incredibly loud scream of pain before dissipating into nothingness.

You stand, panting and holding your side as Satoru claps, coming to your side.

“She was the most beautiful person many people got the pleasure of laying their eyes on, as a human, legend says. But, she got greedy, asking for surgeries over and over again. Died because she never let her body fully recover before going in for the next. Her feet are especially harrowing, because she would break them on her own, like the Chinese tradition, and stuff them in too-small shoes.”

Listening to his tale of the curse, and thinking about what you just went through to kill it, you’re not sure you’re cut out for this life. If these are the things you’re going to have to deal with on a daily basis, how are you supposed to move on and accept it? How could anyone?

Satoru grabs you by the chin, pulling your attention up towards him. He gives a soft, crooked grin, but his eyes hold a hint of sadness you haven’t seen in them as well.

He looks devastating like this. Sun shining behind him, hair glowing from the rays of the sun. Taking a deep breath in, you’re able to smell his cologne, the stench from the curse leaving along with its body. And he smells like a dream after that experience. Looks like an even better one.

You give him a soft smile back.

And because he’s annoying, he pinches your cheek. “How do you feel about your first victory? Against a Vengeful Spirit and you didn’t even die!”

“Uhm, kind of sad.” You answer honestly, still looking up at him.

Satoru watches the sadness in your eyes before they light back up.

Yes, this is sad, but you had nothing to do with it. This curse was born because of someone else. Not because of you. So, if anything, you were able to put it out of its misery and ensure it would never hurt someone.

And that’s something you can add to the list of good you’ve done with your abilities.

“Come on, I’m bleeding and need to heal. Let’s go see Shoko. She’s been wanting to see how my abilities work.”

“You wanna have sex in front of Shoko? Kinky.” he grins, flashing his eyebrows.

“It’s small enough, we can just kiss.” You roll your eyes before winking at him.

He pouts, “you’re no fun.”

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[adndmonsteraday]

Gemstone golems, also called gem golems, were beautiful but deadly automatons created from various precious gems. The three most common forms of gemstone golem included those made from rubies, emeralds, and diamonds.

“We have discovered that Zulkir Thrul's gemstone golems do indeed exist, and they are highly resistant to the magic of Rashemen. Even if we manage to defeat the Thayans, it may be at such a terrible cost that we will be helpless against their next attack.” — Nythra of the Seven Rivers, a witch of Rashemen

Owing to having the appearance of being carved from glittering precious stone, the average gemstone golem had a decidedly more delicate and agile look than the average golem. This was deceiving, however, as a gemstone golem could easily weight up to 3,000 pounds (1,400 kilograms).

Each type of gemstone golem was said to embody the power of that specific stone's gem magic, a lost and imprecise form of the Art:

Ruby golems were said to embody healing and the powers of earth

Emerald golems were said to embody teleportation magic and were able to open gates

Diamond golems were said to embody perfection

However, just as gemstones may be flawed, so too were gemstone golems, and these flaws led them to diverge from the intentions of their creators and the powers which they were intended to embody.

By the 14th century DR, gemstone golems were controlled almost exclusively by the Red Wizards of Thay, although many had since gone somewhat rogue, wandering the lands to fulfill partial or garbled versions of ancient commands. And it was not uncommon to find them in Mulhorand's Land of the Dead, acting as guardians of the various pharaohs' tombs.

Creation of a gemstone golem did not require that the entire body be carved out of a certain precious stone, as was a widely believed myth. Instead, the golem could be cobbled together from many semi-precious stones, however the golem's "heart" did need to be a large and valuable specimen of ruby, emerald, or diamond. This heart became the magical locus of the golem's construction, and could cause the other component materials to meld into a facsimile of the same gemstone. If the creation process failed, the heart would be lost but other materials could be reclaimed to try again.

A gemstone golem would collapse into a pile of rough cut precious gems and powder when slain. The gems were quite valuable and the powder could be used by wizards for spell components.

The first recorded creation of a gemstone golem was by the god-kings of Mulhorand. The secrets to their construction was lost for centuries, until in the Year of the Banner, 1368 DR, when the Red Wizard Zulkir Aznar Thrul discovered the ancient Mulhorand manuals that detailed the process of their creation. He went about unleashing them upon the Rashemaar, against whom they proved highly effective as they were largely resistant to the Wychlaran's spells as well as Rashemen's natural magics.

Thrul also experimented with creating golems from gemstones other than diamonds, emeralds, or rubies but the results were always mixed. The original means of crafting gemstone golems was only half-remembered, and there was reason to believe that Thruls modern methods were based on a misunderstanding of the original Mulhorandi texts. A number of Thrul's notes and texts were kept in the library of the Chambers of Twin Burnings.

After a few successful raids which left no survivors among the Rashemaar, Thrul prepared for a major assault. He prepared to amass a force of 100 gemstone golems by Nightal 15 for use by his allies, the Zulkirs Lauzoril and Nevron, to lead against them, with the ultimate goal being to win prestige in their ongoing efforts to undermine Szass Tam. However, the Simbul intercepted a document which detailed both the plan as well as the gemstone golems' weakness, namely that they required a circle of a dozen wizards to maintain control over them. She entrusted this information to a group of adventurers, who rushed to aid the Rashemaar The gemstone golems clashed with the Rashemaar in the Battle of the Gorge at the Gorge of Gauros. As the golems crashed through enemy lines, their command circle, led by Zulkir Nevron himself, was broken (although it was unclear whether this was because of efforts by the adventurers or thanks to Tam loyalists within the circle), and the entire gemstone golem army was freed of their control.

Soon after, Thrul found that we was not able to control his remaining army of gemstone golems either, and they too broke away, scattering across Faerûn via the gating abilities of the emerald golems. By the Year of Wild Magic, 1372 DR, they wandered the land as semi-independent constructs, many still following faint echoes of their last commands.

Source: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Gemstone_golem

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Bond to Happen Part 1

Part 1: Meeting the Devil

Warnings: canon typical violence, near death experiences

Word Count: 1700ish

You're not entirely sure how you became friends with Billy Russo. You both had very different friend circles and completely opposite lifestyles, but somehow, you had ended up together. Platonically, of course. Looking back, you think it all started about two years ago, when you became acquaintances with Karen Page. She had come into your shop and asked for a protection spell, which wasn’t uncommon. You ran a cute little broom closet of a witch store in the space under your apartment. Luck and magic was the only way you could afford it and even then, it was paycheck to paycheck, so to speak. It was worth it to be able to practice your craft safely and help people. Practicing witchcraft wasn’t illegal in the US, but it was better to keep your head down and live in places where no one cared about the strange people they passed on their way to work. New York gave you anonymity, and you appreciated that.

In the handful of months since moving to the city, you had done your best to ‘mind your business’ as the locals did. Only give people what they pay for. Never try to see them, and if you saw anything, you ignored it. Karen Page was your first exception to that rule. She walked into your shack of a store and the face of death was around her in the form of a skull. She was bound to a bloody and violent future. You told yourself to stick to your rule, but you knew you couldn't. Her protection spell had as much oomf as you could muster on your limited energy. You could tell she was here as a last ditch effort and didn’t have all that much face in your work. Neither did you, to be honest. A protection spell couldn’t stop a carefully aimed weapon. It worked best on shots in the dark and playing the odds. If someone actively tried to hurt her and was any good at violence, the spell would disintegrate quickly. For that reason, you decided to allow a loose, thin tendril of your magic to follow her out of the shop and wherever she went. If she needed your help, you would give it. Hopefully, you would be fast enough to get to her in time. Long distance and object magic was hard to do on your half starved energy.

You had almost forgotten about her until you woke with a start 3 weeks later; your magic tugging at you with a streak of red through it. You tugged on the pants closest to you and grabbed a hoodie before running down the stairs and pulling your bike out of your shop and onto the street. You followed the strand as quickly as you could, using just a touch of magic to strengthen your muscles. Karen was just outside of hell’s kitchen and you didn’t know how long it took you to get to her. Gods, this was what you had moved to avoid. Being a hero was always a bad idea. But you couldn’t pretend nothing happened. You approached the warehouse where the end of the strand was and gently set your bike against the wall. Pulling the hoodie over your head and as far down your face as possible, you made sure your hair was all tucked back and out of sight. You stuck to the shadows, using yet another touch of icy blue energy to do a simple, yet useful spell. It was a spell that made it difficult for others to look at you and truly see you. Their eyes would pass over you in a crowd or in the dark and if they stared, they would find it difficult to remember your features. 

Creeping in through the half open door closest to you, you noticed Karen sitting- no tied- to a chair in the middle of the room. A handful of men surrounded her. Well armed and dressed in black. One was speaking on the phone. Something about the devil. You weren’t sure, you’d only caught the end of it. 5 men would be difficult for you to handle, especially if they were professionals. 

You released a few bits of your magic, visible only to you, and allowed them to see the situation. You needed to know how to approach to avoid you and Karen dying. You sensed death, but not your’s or Karen’s. 

This is going to work. You thought to yourself. 

You slammed the loose tendrils of magic against the far side of the building, causing a ruckus loud enough to draw the attention of the men. 2 went outside to investigate. Two chose to move towards the edges of the room and position themselves strategically, and the remaining one stood near Karen. 

Close your eyes, you ordered Karen through the piece of magic still connecting you. You hoped she would listen as you formed three magical equivalents of a flash bang grenade. You focused the light directly in front of the assailant’s eyes. Doing such a small and concentrated piece of magic was difficult, but it was more efficient than lighting the whole room. As soon as the spells went off, you sprinted for Karen, conjuring your dagger and slashing at the duck tape around her wrists and ankles before sending the dagger back to its place in your home. She ripped the remaining piece off her mouth as you dragged her towards the exit. 

“Who are you?!” She hissed at you.

“Later,” you insisted. “When we’re safe.”

You had spoken too soon and your magic was too weak to warn you sooner of the men that opened fire on the two of you. Had you been stronger, you would've seen it coming before the men even made the decision, but with your current state, you only had enough time to yank Karen behind you and form the thinnest of shields… after several bullets had begun sailing through the air. The sides of your ribs stung from the bullets grazing you as your longstanding deflective spell pushed them away from hitting your internal organs.

You dug your feet into the gravel and pushed into the shield you created, praying that it would hold.

“Run!” You yelled at Karen. You would distract the men long enough for her to get away. Thankfully, she did as she was told and dashed off into the sparse trees that lined the road. You pushed harder now that she was out of the way; narrowing your shield to protect on the most important parts of your body and charged the two men in front of you. You could take them. Maybe. What you definitely couldn’t handle were the remaining three exiting the building, the effects of your flashbang having faded. 

You didn’t have to worry about your impending doom for long because a figure clothed in red leather dropped from the roof of the building and onto the men closest to him. 

The devil of hell’s kitchen? Why would he show up here?

Instead of dwelling on it, you shattered your shield and threw the tangible shards towards the hands and faces of the men who had shot you. They hit home, blinding and maiming, but not killing. If they died of blood loss later, that wasn’t your fault. The shards disintegrated as they found their marks and the little bits of magic leftover returned to your hands. You moved to help the man in red, who was currently in a fist fight with the last man standing. Both men were bleeding, not quite as much as you though and you wanted this night to be over with. You encased your fist in what was almost the last of your power, you had to recall the strand connecting you to Karen, and smacked the man in black on the back of the head, knocking him out and probably giving him a nasty concussion. 

The devil of hell’s kitchen looked at you as he lowered his fists. Or, not quite at you, kind of off to the side with his ear cocked towards you. You knew why. You had been through hell’s kitchen enough times to have seen the energy of the man so set on protecting it. His aura hung around it like a fog and on days where you were too tired to keep your mind closed, you could see it in detail. The devil of hell’s kitchen daylights as Matt Murdock, blind attorney at law. Of course you would never tell. People deserved to keep their secrets.

“You’re a long way from Hell’s kitchen, dude. Thanks for stepping in,” you said, trying to put him at ease. You didn’t know why he was there or how he was connected to Karen, but you didn’t want him to get the wrong impression of you. Not when a strong breeze could knock you over. How you were going to bike the few miles home with your magic tank running on fumes was beyond you.

“You’re bleeding. A lot,” he said dryly.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll patch myself up in a minute.” Lies. You were about to pass out. Gods, how pathetic you were. You couldn’t even handle a couple of kidnappers without a near death experience.

“I can help you. My stitches are shit but they’ll hold.” The devil was being kind, but you really didn’t want to be touched by a stranger with no ability to wall up your mind. Most of your abilities require energy, whether a constant drain or a set one time payment. Your sight, however, only required that energy when you chose to expand its reach, or prevent its use. When people touched you and you were on empty, you saw way too fucking much and couldn’t process any of it. It was just a tsunami hitting you and it felt like you were being covered with fire ants.

“You are about 2 minutes from passing out. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“No, thanks. It’s just me.” That was the truth. You had no one left for you in this world. If you died, you doubt anyone would notice.

Matt- the devil- pulled a flip phone out of some hidden pocket in his suit. 

You slipped down into a crouch and then sat down fully. Black spots danced in the edges of your vision and you pressed your hands onto the leaking wounds. 

“Karen, are you….” his words cut in and out as your ears began to ring. “Bring… and… no….”

Your head hit the ground with a painful thud as you lost the strength to sit up. 

“Ouch, fuck. It’s okay Matt. Was bound to happen at some point,” you muttered as you lost consciousness.

Series List

[lillywillow]

The Cat, The Witch and The Woodsman

Summary: When Bucky hears of someone who might be able to help him, he sets out with his best feline friend to find them

 Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

 Words: 2977

 Square Filled: C4- Scars

 Pairing: Woodsman!Bucky Barnes x Witch!Female Reader  

 Warnings: Mild angst, mentions of scars, mentions of past trauma

 A/N: Set in a magical AU

 Bucky had really been struggling as of late. Ever since he had escaped from the evil warlock association that had turned him into a puppet for their wrongdoings, he had been trying to adjust into normal life again. His two friends Sam and Steve had been slowly helping him to get back to the man he used to be but it was a long journey. Bucky wanted to do things on his own but working with one arm was hard. He had built a cottage for himself in the woods, away from anyone else. His friends came to visit from time to time, trying to convince him to go into town. Bucky would always tell them he wasn’t ready but would give them lists of things he might need. They were understanding but they really hoped that one day he might just join them.

 The nights were the worst. Most nights he would fixate on all the bad things he was made to do and whenever he did fall asleep, he was plagued by nightmares. His faithful companion Alpine was always there to help keep him grounded, her soft fur reminding him he was free… but he wasn’t truly. Not until whatever was in his head went away. Bucky couldn’t even do basic magic anymore. Bucky knew he had to do something about this soon or he may just go insane. Recently, he heard a rumour of a witch that lived deep in the woods who may just be able to heal him. Taking Alpine with him, he set off on a witch hunt. Cats had a sixth sense when it came to the supernatural so maybe she could locate the witch for him. At this point, Bucky was desperate to try anything.

…

 You were in your bird form looking for a patch of special herbs you used in your potions when you spotted a white cat wandering through the woods. Finding this strange, you moved in closer and landed on a nearby branch. Cats on their own weren’t all that uncommon but they were usually of the brown, tabby variety. This one was pure white. You watched as the cat walked around, seemly on the hunt for something.

 “See anything, girl?” a deep male’s voice asked.

 You watched as a man with long brown hair and one arm followed the cat. He was handsome and there was something about him that called out to you. The cat stopped in front on the tree you were resting on, her bright blue eyes fixated on you.

 “Is that her? Are you sure?” he asked.

 The cat meowed in response, her gaze never leaving you.

 “Okay… just hope I’m not talking to a bird like a crazy person,” he muttered, getting down on one knee.

 “Oh, mighty forest witch! I beseech you to come to my aid! Um… what was the next thing…?”

 Having heard enough, you flew to the ground and transfigured into your human form.

 “You’re being way too formal,” you sighed.

 “Sorry… I just… I can’t keep living like this…”

 The man looked up at you and you immediately saw the pain in his blue/ grey eyes which had dark circles from lack of sleep under them. You reached out a hand and felt the dark magic corrupting his own. Gently, you pat the cat on top of her head, her voice sounding like a silver bell in your mind.

 “Help, father…”

 How could you deny such an innocent request from something so pure?

 “Follow me,” you instructed.

 The man got to his feet and followed after you.

 “Thank you… I’m Bucky, by the way and this is Alpine.”

 You introduced yourself as you walked the pair of them back to your cottage. Bucky found; it was a lot like his own. Secluded yet homey but there was something magic about it as well. The interior was a lot like his too with a comfortable layout.

 “So… are you looking to do a cleanse?” you asked, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts.

 He stared blankly for a few moments before responding.

 “I… I want to get rid of the trigger words in my head… and get rid of any evil they might have left…”

 You nodded in understanding and collected a few things. Bucky watched as you gave Alpine some fish, water and a few toys.

 “This will keep her amused while we work,” you explained.

 Bucky smiled at your thoughtfulness towards his little buddy. Next, you handed him a robe made of fine silk.

 “You can change into this while I prepare the room. You can meet me in there when we’re done,” you said, pointing to a door with a seal on it.

 He nodded and waited for you to enter the room before he changed into the robe. Once he was changed, he went into the room. It was totally dark inside, with only candles for illumination. You encouraged Bucky to sit on one of the cushions in the centre of the circle of candles as you closed the door.

 “Physical contact is a requirement of this magic. Is that okay?”

 Bucky nodded.

 “I’m going to need verbal consent so I’m not misinterpreting anything. Is it okay to touch you?”

 “Yes,” Bucky muttered quietly.

 “Okay. First, I’m going to take the words out of your head. For this, I’m going to touch your temples. Is this okay?”

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you let me know and we’ll stop right away.”

 Bucky stayed still as you gentle placed your fingers on his temples. He closed his eyes as you began muttering an incantation. Bucky could feel a dull headache beginning to form as you searched his mind for his triggers. Bucky could take it. Compared to what those warlocks put him through, this was nothing. You took each word and every dark thought left by those monsters and collected them, taking them out of his head. Bucky felt his head become lighter, the dull ache he felt from earlier gone. He opened his eyes to see you holding a ball of dark energy the size of an egg and watched as you slowly and carefully dunked it into a bowl of shining liquid. The ball fizzled as it touched the contents and started to dissolve.

 “Liquid mojo. Highly acidic and excellent at dissolving unwanted dark magic,” you explained.

 Bucky nodded and watched until there was nothing left of those nasty thoughts.

 “Are you ready to continue?” you asked.

 “I’m ready.”

 “Now, for this next part, I’m going to place my hand on your chest. It’s going to be the hardest part. Is this okay?”

 “Yes.”

 “Let’s begin.”

 You placed your palm on the centre of his chest over his heart. Closing your eyes, you focused on grabbing the dark energy. It was coiled around his core like an invasive strangling ivy. You tried pulling it but all his fear, grief and anger had entwined themselves around the dark magic making it harder.

 “Bucky, you’re fighting me…”

 “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

 “You need to let go…”

 “I can’t… It hurts so much…”

 “It’s okay… You were a victim… You didn’t willingly hurt anyone. You’re allowed to be happy again…”

 Bucky broke down crying at your words and with his body’s permission, you were able to pull out every negative vibe, every piece of dark magic and bile and pulled it out of his heart and soul. It wanted to fight you every step of the way, desperately trying to escape as you put into the acid bath. The dark magic dissolved slower than the last but eventually did so. You did a final check to make sure you got it all but all you could feel was his good magic.

 “Can you… can you say the words? I want to make sure I won’t hurt anyone ever again…” Bucky asked, his voice raw with emotion.

 Carefully, you spoke each word in the order you saw them. Bucky waited for the spell that would turn him into a monster again but nothing happened. He pulled you into a tight hug and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

 “Thank you… thank you,” he sobbed.

 “You are truly free,” you quietly assured him as you hugged him back, taking care neither of you was touching the liquid mojo.

 You sat there holding him, letting him cry as much as he needed to. Once he was done, you helped him up and guided him back to the main area. You set him up with a large helping of stew and a glass of water while you cleaned up. Alpine trotted over to him and jumped on his lap.

 “I’m okay, Alpine… I’m okay…”

 Bucky was in fact okay. He was drained mentally, emotionally and physically but he felt lighter than he had in a long time. With each spoonful of soup, he could feel some of his strength returning. After you had cleaned up, you joined him at the table. Bucky noticed you looked just as tired as he felt. The pair of you ate in silence feeling just content with each other’s company.

 “You’re welcome to stay the night. I’m sure you don’t feel like travelling very far right now,” you offered.

 “Thank you… You’ve been far kinder than I deserve…”

 “Hey, look at me…”

 Bucky blushed as you grabbed his hand.

 “I meant every word I said in there. You are a good man who deserves good things. I know those warlocks. They take everything that is good in the world and they twist it into what they think is best…”

 “So… you?”

 You looked away.

 “It was a long time ago…”

 Bucky gently squeezed your hand, allowing you to continue but not pressing you if you didn’t want to. You had to admit… it felt nice to have contact with another being after being alone for so long.

 “Tomorrow, do you want me to work on making a new arm for you?” you asked, changing the subject.

 “I… I guess so,” he shrugged.

 Bucky wasn’t really sure what that would entail but he wanted to spend a little more time with you. You smiled a little, letting go of his hand so he could finish his soup.

 Alpine watched the pair of you intently. Father liked you and she certainly liked you. She could tell you were a gentle soul who had bad things happen to them just like father. Alpine hoped that maybe there was something she could do to keep you around…

 After dinner, you set the spare room so Bucky could sleep before retiring to your own bedroom. Bucky made himself comfortable and got ready for bed.

 “She’s pretty great, huh?”

 Alpine meowed in response.

 “I like her too. Do you think we should keep seeing her?”

 Once again, Alpine meowed at him. Bucky smiled as he settled down, soon falling asleep.

…

 Bucky woke from a dreamless sleep sometime around midnight. He wasn’t exactly sure what woke him but this was the first time he hadn’t had any nightmares for a long time. When he heard the front door open and close, his instincts as a soldier kicked in. Carefully, Bucky walked around the cottage, checking for any signs of danger. Finding the place safe, he decided to look around outside.

 Bucky noticed a trail of footprints heading away so he followed them. What if you ran into danger or needed help? He followed the path to a waterfall, blushing when he saw you bathing in it, illuminated under the full moon light. From his position, he could see the scars all over your back. He recognised some of the shapes from the tools they used back when he was a familiar. After a few moments, Bucky realised he probably look away and head back or he might seem creepy. The image of your scarred skin played out in his mind as he once again let sleep take him.

…

 Bucky slept in late the next morning. By then, you had already made breakfast and given Alpine something to eat. It was the best sleep he had in years. After he finished eating, you pulled out something from a chest.

 “For this spell, I’m going to have to place this over your shoulder against your skin. Is that okay?”

 Bucky nodded before giving his verbal consent. You carefully helped him to remove his shirt, for the first time noticing the scars that mapped his torso and the angry one on his stump. You hadn’t really noticed them in the dark room yesterday.

 “Do we have to go into that room again?” he asked.

 “No. I only used that room when working with dark magics. Seances, cleansing or purifications, the occasional exorcism… That room has been designed so the dark magic can’t escape back into the world. Out here will be just fine.”

 Bucky nodded and waited patiently as you placed some kind of metal sling over his left shoulder, fitting it roughly where his arm should be. You ran your hand down his right shoulder, down his arm to hold his hand and held your other hand out as if you were holding his other hand.

 “For this one, I’m going to need you to work with me. Close your eyes… Focus… imagine yourself holding my hand… Just like that… Picture your arm clearly…”

 As he followed your instructions, Bucky could hear a metallic clicking sound.

 “There… you did it,” you smiled.

 When Bucky opened his eyes, he was amazed to see a bronze arm with his green magic glowing from in between the plates. He moved it around and tested it out. It was perfect. Smiling brightly, he pulled you into another hug.

 “I can’t thank you enough, Y/N…”

 “You’re very welcome, Bucky,” you replied, embracing him.

 You stood there for a while before pulling away.

 “What do I owe you?” he asked.

 “Huh?”

 “For your services…”

 “Nothing… It was a privilege to help you,” you said with all honesty.

 “Please, I insist…”

 “Well maybe… you could stop by again sometime…”

 “I’d like that,” Bucky smiled.

…

 Over the next few days, Bucky improved massively. He still took a few things slowly but without the weight on his chest, he felt normal again. Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about you. When he described his experience with you to his friends, they noticed the lovestruck look about him. They encouraged him to pursue you if you truly made him happy. Alpine noticed it too. That’s why one afternoon, she put her plan into action.

…

 Bucky was out gathering wood when Alpine took off. Dropping everything he had, he followed the cat as she ran deeper.

 “Alpine!” he called.

 She didn’t listen, sensing your presence in the area. Alpine stopped at your feet, almost proudly.

 “Alpine? What are you doing here?” you asked, picking her up.

 “Helping father,” her sliver bell voice said in your mind, almost proudly.

 No sooner had you picked her up than Bucky ran up to you. Today he had his hair pulled back into a nice ponytail. It really showcased his handsome face.

 “Alpine! Don’t just go running off into the woods. It’s too dangerous,” he scolded.

 “Hello, Bucky,” you greeted.

 “Oh! Hi, Y/N… I’m sorry about Alpine…”

 “It’s okay… would you like to come in for tea?” you asked.

 “I would,” he smiled back.

 Alpine looked rather smug with herself. Maybe this would help the two of you find happiness…

 The pair of you caught up on everything that had happened over the last few days. You felt happy that you were able to take Bucky from such a broken man to the man you saw in front of you. As you spoke, there was one thing that continued coming to Bucky’s mind.

 “Y/N… there’s something I have to confess… that night, I saw the scars on your back…”

 You sighed and put down your teacup. There was no hiding it now.

 “I told you that I knew those warlocks… how they twist things to suit them… I used to live in a town where I was a healer. I never used to have any troubles, just went about my business… then one day, they came to town. They convinced the people that witches were evil and turned them against me… they hurt me… tried to get me to reveal the location of my coven… I never had one…”

 Bucky hugged you and held you close as you cried.

 “I was only able to escape because some of the people came to their senses… I’ve been afraid it’ll happen again…” you whimpered.

 “I’ll protect you…”

 You believed him… you really did. Bucky gently dried away your tears, keeping his hands on your face. Before either of you knew it, your lips were touching in a soft, warm kiss. This felt right for both of you.

 “Sorry… I should have asked permission first,” he breathed as he pulled away.

 “It’s okay… I trust you…”

 “Can I do it again?”

 “Of course…”

 As he kissed you again, you felt like this could be the start of something wonderful.

…

 You and Bucky officially became a couple after that day, agreeing to take things slow. Alpine was happier than ever to see her favourite person happy too. You helped each other come back into the world after being isolated for so long. Scars never went away but with the right person, they could fade.

[gaybananabread]

for tickletober could u do 24 with Amity and Lilith? I like to think that they had a somewhat wholesome relationship when they trained together so maybe a training session turned a little playful?

also hope ur doing good and thanks! :D

Sure! I thought of a fun way to do the number request, hope you enjoy!

Lee: Amity

Ler: Lilith

Summary: One of Amity's training sessions with Lilith gets a bit playful.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!

Amity and Lilith were training together outside. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, for the two had formed a bond after the very first session. Amity was inside of a white circle in the dirt, Lilith a few feet away. Today's topic was self defense.

"I  know you're probably familiar with the subject, maybe had training on it. However, self-defense is one of the most important lessons to be taught, and you can never practice enough. Now, I'm going to send some spells your way. Nothing bad, just something to make you regret being hit. Your goal is to not move from your circle. There's five rounds."

Amity braced herself, readying for the spells that would be sent flying her way. "Ready, set, begin!" An onslaught of blue orb-like spells flew at her, whizzing by her head as she ducked out of the way. She cast her own, a purple abomination-ball soaring at Lilith. She easily doged it.

"Nice job. Time for round 2." Opaque blue bolts zoomed towards Amity, coming in from all sides. She had doged most, but one had hit her forearm. It hadn't hurt, but the area had begun to feel weird.

"Ah, that's too bad. Regret time." A fuzzy feeling crept onto her arm, slowing turning into something else. She tried to hide her smile, failing once it reached her elbows. A confused Glace at her teacher answered her questions.

"Like my new spells? Each one is a different form, but they all have the same outcome. I figured you could use some laughter, and it would be a great way to practice agility and strength. It'll fade, just not until we're done." Casting was harder now, her focus mostly on the tingly sensations spreading throughout her arm. She managed to summon a goopy fist, sending it at her teacher. Her aim was terrible.

The next round was ground waves. Floods of blue light spilled across the dirt. Amity formed a platform above them, looking down at the dodged magic. "Clever. I can cast two spells, though." Before she could react, a blue streak shot out. She tried blocking, but it hit her square in the chest. Her pedestal melted, knocking her out of the circle.

The feeling exploded on her torso, running up to her armpits, down to her belly, her shoulder blades, everywhere. All her walls crumbled, and loud cackles spewed into the air. She fell to the ground, hugging her midsection. "NAHAHAHAHO! IHIHIHIT- AHAHAHAHAHA!"

Lilith shook her head, laughing a little at her student. "Three rounds left. You can do it, Amity!" The witch in question was writhing in ticklish agony, the fuzzy feeling overwhelming her senses. Her brain was mush. "NOHOHO I CAHAHAHAN'T!"

Lilith downgraded the intensity of her next spell, aiming for Amity's ears. Due to an unexpected thrash, she missed. "Okay then, round 4." Amity, who could barely take the current tickles, couldn't imagine handling more.

A blue spike shot straight at the girl's ear, hitting its target flawlessly. It didn't add much, but the extra feeling was enough to push her to the absolute limit. "LIHIHILIHIHITH! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Lilith saw Amity was at her limit, majorly dialing down her last spell's strength. "Quick, round 5!" A small ball of light flew over to the young witch, landing on her foot. It sent her over the edge. "NAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAP! AHAHAHAHA!"

Lilith snapped her fingers, and all the tickling immediately stopped. Amity curled in on herself, giggling like a maniac. "Nice work today. You didn't win, but you definitely learned about the importance of defense. Plus, I had fun watching you fight. It was quite cute."

Amity's signature tomatoe face blush was thriving, her entire face blood red. "That wahas ahahawful." Amity hid her face, saying goodbye to Lilith for the day. While she wouldn't admit it, the session was fun for her as well.

[eldridgecandell]

😈 Summon a demon

Stone should never reflect light, but in the dank basement of Juniper Brant the candles did just trick in the damp room. The dirt floor mixed with the odd mildew scent from the walls to give an earthy aroma which could be enough unpleasant to cause one to know there was a leak somewhere. Of course the burning incense and myrrh splattered about did everything it could to aid in the smell.

The wax trickled slow and low among their wicks as the yellow flames danced only from the breath of the occupants within the cellar. A circle of chalk and animal fat had been draw in the center of the room, the occupants resting calmly within it as they did their best to hold still in the dark. Two figures sat naked and shivering in the homemade circle, bodies painted with lines to match the circle they had created earlier. The white lines of thick chalk paint traced shapes over their skin in odd patterns of proud, if not crude, symmetry. Each set of hands resting gently upon the other's knees as with heads bowed to sit in awkward silence with the odd box between them.

It didn't bear the same patterns as the drawings of their flesh or carry the glint of gold. It was just a small wooden box, perfectly square and made of the deepest red wood.

The box sat still.

"Tides this stuff stinks," Juniper muttered softly, her body shaking slightly from the cold.

"Shh," Robert, her companion, whispered back harshly though his eyes never left the box.

The woman wanted to apologize, but she bit her lip instead in fear of upsetting their fifth attempt any more. For the three months, Juniper Brant and her childhood beau Robert Salmin had been gathering in the basement of her family home in hopes of fixing the foul luck that had befallen their former fertile farmland. The summer's drought had come swift and terrible upon the weary pilgrims after a summer of unending sun with little to no rain to help what should be a thriving crop. Curses were not uncommon in this part of the world, but this was nothing of any witch's touch or warlock scorned. This was just simply nature punishing them.

And that had to change.

Robert had been the one to find the old book in the peddler's cart, a normal tome of sorts had only cost the young farmer a few silver pieces. The peddler none the wiser or caring for what was within it's pages. Salvation is what Robert called it upon combing through it's yellowed pages with hope and hunger in his heart as he read of the powers within. This could save them. Save the farms. Their families. Make him a hero. He just needed a partner.

Nostalgia is a hell of a drug and the old flames we hold in our hearts for first loves may dim but never fade. So when Juniper buried her husband among those dry fields, Robert had been at her side immediately. What likely should have been a coy and long courtship ended up with the pair finding sync in the dark not hours after the passing of the man Juniper thought would be her only one. She found herself to be quite lucky Robert felt the same.

A few weeks later and the book was revealed to Juniper who though skeptical felt entitled to help her new lover in his quest to save the farm. She listened to his teachings, read what passages he offered, and praised his process. He in turn gave her what her former husband could hardly ever give her when he was alive. It was a mutual and vibrant partnership.

But now was the time to act.

The first attempt had been a mess all around. The wrong chalk, too much blood, and far to much talking.

The second attempt had been nearly the same amount of mess, but they figured blood wasn't needed anymore after the last calf had stunk so bad.

The third attempt was half heart-ed for success and more about getting at each other, the book having been right about warning of 'carnal overload'.

Time had been the only thing that mixed up the fourth time as the window had closed with the dawning of the accursed sun.

Here was now the fifth. They had followed it to the letter. Beginning in earnest, keeping in rhythm, and reaching the point of no return as they sat among themselves painted the most base of mortal needs.

Now the box needed to merely open.

A soft sigh broke the silence.

"Robert?" Juni asked quietly as she brought her fingers to gently scratch at the skin upon his knees.

The man shook his head softly. "This isn't going to work."

"But we did everything right."

"I know, but I," Robert sighed again feeling the weight of his attempts drag down at his shoulders. "I don't think I'm strong enough to do this."

Juni's hand would lift gently from his knee now to touch his face, her touch warm to his cold skin as the cheek was stroked.

"You are so strong, my love," she spoke soothingly to him as she felt his skin beneath hers still as she smiled. "And brave. You have done so much for me and this community, no one can fault you."

"Or know to be honest," Juniper laughed as she continued to stroke his face, but he would not raise his eyes to hers. The laugh died as quickly as it came before she leaned forward from her spot, her face coming to nestle among his dark sweat damp hair. She breathed him and sighed, drought be damned she was in love with him. It was all she really needed.

He was all she wanted.

"Come on, Rob," Juni pressed her lips to his head again as she began to rise, her heart fluttering a bit as she did her best to coax him to his feet with the contours of her body. "We'll wash up and have a bit of fun before tomorrow. You'll feel better."

Rob's hand gently came to grab her hand, squeezing gently as he kept his face hidden.

Juni tilted her head softly as he grabbed her, his grip tight though not unnerving as she spoke again. "Rob?"

The grip grew tighter, as it moved up from her hand to her wrist. His thumb coming to press at the soft center space.

"Rob," Juni asked again, worry now growing her voice as she spoke quickly. "Rob you're hurting me."

The thumb pressed harder, his nail sharp and poking into the skin as he pressed harder. "Robert stop. Robert!"

Pain flashed through Juniper's arm as she reeled back from him, soft flecks of crimson floating through the air as she backed away from him. Her other hand flying to her wrist as she felt the warmth of her own blood coat the palm of her hand. "What the hell, Robert?!"

Robert's hand sat shaking in the air between them, his thumb dripping with the few droplets of Juni's blood as he slowly brought it down to the box.

The wooden box drank greedily.

"Robert?"

"I'm sorry," Robert whispered. "I love thee."

"Thee?" Juni asked softly as she held her wrist tight still. "What do you mean?"

It was then she found her feet past the circle and alone beyond him. Her skin growing colder. Her heart beating faster. "Robert?"

"I love thee," Robert repeated again. There was sorrow in the three words, but the power of them wasn't meant for her. His eyes were only for the box.

Again he said the three magic words. "I love thee."

The box began to twist, it's red wood glistening and writhing as it's shape expanded and stretched.

"I love thee," the words still filled with sorrow but triumph and pride hidden in plain sight. The crimson wood stretching more as protruding digits beckoned from the quickly thinning panels of the box, coaxing to him. Begging to him. Taunting to him. Applauding him.

Where once fingers had been now with the growing box, a jaw pushed forward among the creaking red. There was no sound yet, but the lips of stretched lumber could clearly be read.

Feed me.

Juniper never got to see what horrors her lover had planned, her body having already since slumped in the cold dark of her cellar. Mouth agape and drawn to match the empty sockets of her once soft brown eyes in frozen terror. The last words of Robert though would haunt the corpse of Juniper Brant for all eternity.

I love thee.

@nixalegos

[imdorothy]

F-01-77 | The Witch's Dream

"She walks ever onwards, to a goal she’ll never fulfill."

Risk Level: HE Qliphoth Counter: 2 PE-Box Output: 20 (0-9: Bad, 10-14: Normal, 15-20: Good) Available Works: Instinct, Insight, Attachment, Repression Attack Type: Black (1-4)

Appearance: A large old crone with green skin. A large boil is on the tip of her nose, the only part of her visible under her large black robe that obscures her hunched form. She also wears a large brimmed black "witch hat". Her eyes are permanently shut.

====Managerial Tips====

When the work result was good, the Qliphoth Counter increased.

When the work result was neutral, the Qliphoth Counter decreased at a normal chance.

When the work result was bad, The Witch's Dream breached.

When 3 or more employees or clerks died, the Qliphoth Counter decreased, deaths from execution bullets would count as all three deaths required.

The cauldron in The Witch's Dream's room would occaisonally produce a colored smoke, when employees came into the room while the smoke was there, they would do better work, provided the color of the work and the color of the smoke did not match.

Employees with Justice levels above 2 would preform work slower.

====Behavior and Abilities==== When breaching, The Witch's Dream will head for a main department room, marked by the appearance of a large cauldron in the center. When reaching this room, she will throw in petals at random, producing a smoke that will deal damage based on it's color. Any employee who is killed or turned insane will transform into F-01-77-2, a pale blue simian/avian hybrid creature that will attempt to destroy all threats to The Witch's Dream.

====Work Success Table====

Instinct: 25% | 35%| 50%| 60% | 75% |

Insight: 65% | 70% | 70% | 70% | 65% |

Attachment: 100% | 100% | 100% | 100% | 100%

Repression: 80% | 75% | 0% | 0% | 0% |

====EGO Gear: Blind Hope====

Weapon: A broom, the wielder holds it like a spear, and fires it like a rifle. She held on to her hope for a better world, no matter who said otherwise. Stat Requirements: Justice 2 or lower Risk Level: HE PE-Box Cost: 40 Maximum Initial Production: 1 Damage: Black (1-4) Range: Very High Attack Speed: Very Fast

Armor: A long black robe, it loosely covers the entire body. She held the robe to herself, sewn within it was a message, but she could never read it, she would never read it. Stat Requirements: Justice below 2 Risk Level: HE PE-Box Cost: 40 Maximum Initial Production: 2 Resistances: 1.0 / 0.5 / 2.0 / 1.2

Gift: A large green circle Effect: +2 HP (Cheek 2)

====Flavor Text====

The witch carries her foolish dream on her back.

Is it possible to reach Heaven through violence?

The childish witch met the wizard one day...

"I will give you the peace you deserve"

The witch closed her eyes, never to open them again

====Origin (optional segment)====

Dorothy, distorted after learning of Captain of @armyinwhitenight's crime. Symbolising her childish wish to end the suffering and pain within L corp and the city as a whole, against the uncaring brutality of The City's Will. Dorothy comes from a timeline that was just slightly after the Seed of Light project failed, with the "White Nights, Dark Days" incident completing just hours before she was brought into the Lobotomy Corp she's in currently.

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Abnormality Story Log

Once upon a time, there was a Witch. Witches are much like Wizards, but where Wizards have only cruel apathy, with much more prowess, Witches have dreams, hopes, and aspirations. It's not uncommon for Witches to seek out Wizards to fulfill goals they don't have the strength for, and this one was no different.

This particually childish Witch wanted to end the suffering so common in her town, and so the sought out the town Wizard, isolated on the top of a mountain, with a stone path one can only see while closing their eyes, and so she did.

One day, after a long and arduous journey, she meets the Wizard, and she confesses her wish. The wizard is cruel and unfair, but is bound by his rules, so he put her in a world with no pain or misery. Her own delusional dream became a willing prison with a rudimentary key. That key will rust into nothing and never see use.

She walks ever onwards, to a goal she’ll never fulfill. A world free of violence, of cruelty, of pain. A childlike wish, but none the less sincere.

[spkyscry-a]

Joy’s pacing in her room, going in such a perfect circle from so much practice walking them for rituals that one might worry she’s going to burn a hole in her nice carpet. She’s glaring at the cellphone sitting on her bedside table as if she can just will someone to call her back. Getting all the supplies in order was the easy part, but now she’s got everything set up for a tour that may not even happen. It was her fault, for setting herself up for this. Now, if it falls through, it would come across like the witch backing out of her promise for a break.

At worst, she’ll just have to switch around how she acts. Just ease slightly off the pedal on work and pretend to be more open. Yes, that was her mistake here, clearly, just pivot and continue on. It was a much simpler than uprooting her entire way of life over this. It seemed stupid, now, how she’d managed to get cornered into agreeing to all of this.

The witch finally breaks her circle, moving for the phone to pick up and simply place in her pocket. 

Yet, just as fingers make contact, it sparks to life in music and light. It was such a perfectly timed thing that it made even her jump. Answering it, after the initial shock, as she sat on the edge of her bed. 

“This is Joy, how c--” A pause at the excited chatter on the other end. “Oh! Oh yes, I do remember her! How is she? Hopefully no more attempted sacrifices because of her virginity? Oh! Well, that would solve that matter! Gosh, engaged? Congratulations, you two!”

It wasn’t uncommon for people to manage to get her number in order to thank her or the Coven in general. Joy’s was, unfortunately, apparently the easiest to come across. Probably one of her Exes leaking it or something of that nature and her being too stubborn to change it now. Of course, what came next took her by surprise.

“Oh, she can?! You don’t have to, really! Saving a life is reward enough, I don’t know if I can accept a show--” 

She’s getting cut off because, of course, they insist. 

“Well, alright, if you’re sure. Can I call you back when I have more things in order to set up the proper time? Yes, thank you so much, I’ll hopefully get back to you soon. Tell her I said hi!” 

Joy ends the call, blinking a few times. She.. had the first interested venue, and this one she wouldn’t even need to hash out pricing with. She shouldn’t be surprised, of course, but she still was. 

Never mind the fact that, once surprise was gone, the rest of the Coven could hear giggly cackles of excitement from Joy’s room. Because, quite suddenly, the tour didn’t seem like some impossible thing! Was.. Joy excited for the break, all of a sudden? She might just be.