#and nobody better use any heal spells to help me

[xaeydnquartz]

English: She did not want the shard

Japanese: Kanojo wa sono hahen o hoshikunakatta

German: Sie wollte die Scherbe nicht

Spanish: Ella no quería el fragmento

Chinese: Tā bùyào suìpiàn

Korean: geunyeoneun papyeon-eul wonhaji anh-assda Italian: Non voleva il frammento Arabic: lam takun turid alqishra French: Elle ne voulait pas du tesson Hindi: vah theekara nahin chaahatee thee Less formal English: Dudes, she didn't want that stupid %^*&ing shard. [please forgive the potentially very poor translation, this was just a "for fun" post i thought of and put together in a few minutes with google translate xD lol]

[cassiebones]

Agatha's Prize

I don't think she wants the Darkhold this time. I don't even think she wants power. I think she just wants her son. I think she wants to hold her boy in her arms and kiss his face and just love on him for the first time in so long.

Evanora said that Agatha was born evil and she knew that since day one, but I'm doubting it. Maybe when Agatha was born, she could sense that she had a lot of power in her and feared what might happen if she turned evil. She gave Agatha her name, which means "good" so it was probably an attempt to influence something (not familiar with witch naming practices) and a hope that Agatha would be actually good.

But this child grows older and her magic grows stronger. And Evanora is scared of it, terrified that her child will soon surpass her in terms of power. So she treats her like she's bad. She's a bad child for this or that and she must be a good child or else she will be punished. She tries to influence Agatha in any way that she can. She teaches her only healing spells, "good" magic that will help other people, but Agatha grows bored of it. She wants to learn the other spells that other witches her age are learning. They are surpassing her in their lessons and it isn't fair. Some of them are even teasing her about it. Because all she knows how to do is healing and protection spells.

But Evanora and the other witches refuse to teach her other magic for fear that Agatha will not use it correctly and mistakes from such a powerful witch are bound to do so much more harm than good.

So Agatha goes searching for the magic that she wants to learn. It's not her fault that some of that magic is dark magic. Nobody really taught her the difference.

So when the execution comes and is botched, Agatha is left wondering how she did it. How did she kill so many witches at once? She throws herself into her studies. She learns all she can about different runes and types of magic and potions. She looks to Rio for guidance - and the love she never received from anybody else - and practices as much as she can.

Which is why when she meets Wanda, she is so...enthralled. Here's a witch who just kind of happened upon her powers. She didn't study as hard as Agatha. She's not even aware of how powerful she is. She can learn on her feet. She's smart and tricky and resourceful.

She's a better witch than Agatha, even with her power.

Which brings me back to my point. Agatha just wants her son. She thinks that if she gains Wanda's power, she will finally be able to bring Nicholas back to life, like Wanda did to Vision.

When Sparky died and the boys said that Wanda could bring him back to life, there's a moment where Agatha seems to forget herself and looks genuinely surprised and breathless as she asks, "You can do that?" like she hadn't considered that yet when she started gunning for Wanda's powers. She just saw a powerful witch and was stuck in her old ways in her thirst for power.

But here's a witch who can actually make her wildest dreams come true. A witch whose power she could easily steal if she just got her to attack her. Agatha probably grew impatient after that. It was only a few days later that she reveals herself to be Agatha Harkness, after all.

But then it all goes to shit and she has to start from Square One.

I'm certain that she wasn't even considering anything about Nicky just yet until Teen mentioned The Road. Then she remembered that, once you complete the journey. you get a prize.

Last time, her prize was the Darkhold. This time, her prize will be her son's return to the Mortal Realm. It's all she's ever truly wanted.

But I also don't think she's going to get it.

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 10

Chapter 10: Splitting Up

The hunt for Merasmus begins, with Scout and Spy left to hold down the base. They’ll be fine… right?

TW: Heavy angst. Spy is not in fact okay.

Ms Pauling briefed the team on a Merasmus lead. She said he mighta been training up in the Appalachian mountains to ruin Soldier and Zhanna’s wedding. She told Scout and Spy to stay at base, so someone could guard it while the others went after him.

Jeremy was glad that Soldier and Pyro weren’t staying at base; he’da been left to baby sit them alone, with Spy not feeling right and being new. Then again, this was a real threat to Soldier, so he wouldn’t have stayed put at base anyway. It looked like he was really taking this seriously, as far as Scout could tell.

Spy looked stiff for the whole briefing. Angry even. But Scout figured he was just on edge because of last night’s nightmare.

—————————

Heavy was glad that Pauling didn't waste any time. Zhanna was new to America and the most naive of his sisters. He could only hope that her training was real and useful to her.

He didn’t like her marrying Solider, but had to respect the man for wanting to protect her. And for trusting in her strength as well. Soldier was impatient to start the mission one he heard the briefing.

Heavy also wanted to avenge Spy, not just his sister. If that curse had not hit Spy, he may have already fixed things with Scout. At the least, the team boy would not have been so sleepless and ill with bottled tears.

It was time for answers. They packed up swiftly and got ready for one last stop on the way.

—————————

Spy and Scout were in no condition to go on this hunt, even if they could’a known the truth. Engineer couldn’t bear to leave Pyro in their care with everything goin on. He knew that if Pyro had to withhold fire, he’d be a much bigger threat to Merasmus when he was finally found. And Soldier was already ruthlessly ready.

The plan was to look for Merasmus and take any help or clues from the other magic users. Once they found their evil old wizard, they’d trap him for Pauling so she could question him.

They had Soldier call up Zhanna and the Holy Wizards to assist. Bein Merasmus’ Halloween playthings, they needed all the magical assistance they could get.

—————————-

Demoman and Sniper talked to Pauling in the ship. Sniper had also noticed Spy acting strange around her, and wondered if it was connected to that terrible nightmare. “The lad looked fierce the first time, but I was the only one who saw. Thought it was the scrumpy playin tricks on me eye.”

“He was like that at today’s briefing too. Not sure if theah’s something he hated Helen for, or if it’s just the nightmare problem.” They had to be vague with Soldier, Pyro, and Zhanna in the ship.

“I thought he sounded off, but you know how much I overthink. I just assumed it was me overthinking last time.” Pauling said. “The sooner we get Merasmus locked eway, the better. So we can puzzle out what to do.” “I agree. You guys have a battle put on hold until you get back, but after that we should investigate.”

——————————-

Medic kept a wide expanse between himself and the wizards. He wasn’t sure if they could sense his dealings with the Devil, but the way they were talking about the dark arts, he didn’t need them finding out. They focused on healing and growth spells, like planting new forests and healing herbs.

It was a bit surprising that they got along with Soldier so well, but nobody was complaining. They said that the Appalachians were enchanted to allow wizards to train and experiment without interruption. The practice was put into place during an uneasy peace between holy and dark magic users.

It was better to bring them along and risk his deal getting screwed up, than to get cursed or lost in the enchanted mountains. Soldier’s strange habit of attracting magic was coming in handy for once.

————————-

Heavy was surprised that the white wizards trusted Soldier to wander in the woods; when they got out of the ship, none of the magic users took issue with Soldier’s erratic behavior. Here he seemed to move with unexpected smoothness, as if he knew the land well.

Zhanna had been training under these men, so perhaps Soldier had learned how to act through her. Though Heavy didn’t notice too much difference in how the man was acting now. Pyro was being closely watched now that it was established he was not permitted to set the forest ablaze. Doktor was acting strange, like he was uncomfortable with the wizards being there.

The magic allowed them to travel undisturbed through wizard trails, hidden from that one BLU Scout and the other local people. Strange plants and animals were all around them, many of them being pleasant smelling and beautiful. Zhanna said she had been growing some of these flowers and vines for the wedding, and the wizards were making new hybrid plants for the desert.

The wizard with two points in his beard explained that the dark faction was very likely to kill unsuspecting locals for venturing too close to their lairs. The hidden trail magic and enchanted eerie feeling in this place was created by the light faction, to remove any excuse for such murders. It was accepted by the evil wizards for providing them privacy when they didn’t want to see non-magicians.

It also meant that they must be careful not to attack random creatures, in case they belonged to someone bloodthirsty. Only if they were attacked first, and the wizard magic failed them. Heavy was worried that Soldier would not follow that rule, but he was surprisingly unbothered by the magic birds and little creatures. He didn’t lash out to attack like anyone thought he would.

————————

Soldier jumped back as something huge ran across the path, growling. It was a giant raccoon, the size of an elephant. It looked like it was going to attack, but stopped. Doe swore he’d seen this one before. No, that didn’t-

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the newly-weds.” Merasmus. Merasmus could bring things back to life. But Lieutenant bites and the other raccoons didn’t leave behind bodies, how could he have done this?

“Thought it was a shame to waste these savage little animals after you dodged my magic.” The wizard smirked. “Attack if you wish, it’ll only hurt them and you.” *******! He was using Soldier’s friends as a meat-shield! Doe couldn’t fight his raccoons like the other monsters, and they would not attack him. He didn’t know how to get back at Merasmus this time.

He stared out at the other wizards, looking bored and annoyed. “Stay out of this, goody-goodies. This man killed my innocent roommate and destroyed my lair many times. You’re on the wrong side.”

Soldier knew the other mercenaries weren't really on his side right now, but they cared about Zhanna. Everyone knew he was dumb, they just assumed he was too dumb to see how they looked at him. It had always been like that, with other kids, and teachers, and orphanage people. He didn’t know what the white wizards would do if they agreed with Merasmus. For once, he didn’t yell anything.

“Did you ever explain your rules?” Spice wizard asked. Merasmus looked annoyed. “What was there to explain? We were in a lair with normal human furniture, it’s not like I asked him to do magic. Any person should have had common sense-“ The white wizards launched magic at the raccoons that turned them back to normal. Lieutenant Bites jumped on Doe and bit him, his way of saying hello.

“I missed you too, Bites.” He choked out. The other raccoons abandoned Merasmus too, sitting next to the wizards and mercenaries without trouble. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Do you know what he’s like?!”

“Yes”. Said the tea wizard with the two tailed beard. “And I also know he’s a feral child Merasmus. And you know that common sense is not the same to them.” Zhanna stepped forward. “Did he kill Tom Jones before you threatened to kill everyone he loves?” Merasmus grumbled. “No..” Zhanna shrugged. “Then it vas returning favor, I think.”

“I forgot about that!” Demoman said. Soldier turned to look, and the whole team seemed just as surprised as Demo. “Come to think of it, yeah! Ye the one who be cursin us all each Halloween. Been doin that fer far longer than ye lived with Jones.”

It was times like this that Doe remembered Zhanna really understood him. Sometimes he worried that she would get fed up with him like everyone else, but right now he knew she wouldn’t. And the wizards didn’t get fed up with him, and the other men were trying to understand. Things were not so bad.

“Merasmus.” The old wizard general growled. “Did you target this man’s team over a death, or over property damage?”

————————

The necromancer started to stutter, sensing that the Holy wizards had turned against him. Medic knew they had to be stronger than him, in numbers alone. They joined hands with each other and Heavy’s sister, and started chanting.

The oldest wizard with the longest beard continued to talk. “Merasmus. By order of the Holy Herbologists, thou art sealed in these mountains forever! No more will you torment non-wizards in this or any other place with thy magic.” Some kind of glowing lock appeared on the necromancer, before disappearing.

“What?! What is the meaning of this, high master?” The wizard with the goatee and the sass piped up. “Well, since you decided to live in the desert amongst non-magicians, you caused conflict with this Soldier and his friends. This place is free to both Holy and Evil wizards to separate from the normal folk of this world, but you didn’t use it. It stands to reason that your travel privileges should be taken.”

Another wizard turned to everyone. “Even if he goes into the local towns, he’s blocked from using magic on the people there. So don’t worry, the civilians are safe too.”

—————————-

“Will he be able to wander very far?” Engineer asked. They would need to come back to get more answers if he wasn’t mistaken. “No, he’s locked into a certain acreage so we can monitor things. Why, is something else going on?”

Engineer whispered an explanation, apologizing for the secrecy before. They couldn’t tell all of the teammates.

“A dark de-aging spell and cruel nightmare… I’ve heard of this spell. In animals, it is not so difficult to undo, but when a human is cursed, only going through their life’s memories in order can reverse it. Your teammate needs to look through his old things, pictures, letters, anything like that.” Engineer frowned, and so did Heavy, who was listening too.

”Zhis Spy on our team, he is very private. And some of that is our fault for teasing him.” Engineer wasn’t surprised that Heavy regretted that camera prank. He wouldn’t be surprised if Medic did too. “Ve do not know vhere his things are, to help him.”

Soldier and Zhanna were chatting with each other romantically and noticed them all huddled to speak privately. “What’s going on?” “Wedding surprises.” They said in unison. That was enough to send the lovebirds on their merry way, thankfully. “I’m sorry, without something to remind him of his life in order, there’s no way to undo this curse. Many have looked for another cure, but it doesn’t exist.”

————————

Back in the ship on the way home, Soldier, Zhanna and Pyro had fallen asleep. Pyro had been allowed to burn something to calm his nerves of course. Heavy asked the wizards what a feral child was.

The answer surprised him. Apparently through Soldier and Zhanna, the wizards had learned that he was raised by feral raccoons. They said that he was not permitted to join the American military because of this feral nature.

“Some of these lost children are unable to adjust to civilization. They were taught the common sense of wild creatures in nature, human common sense doesn’t pair well with it.” The elder wizard explained. “But in any case, Holy wizards often meet this children, at a higher rate than normal humans. Merasmus is more than aware of the signs that someone is a feral child, but in all these years he did not report it. He chose revenge instead.”

Heavy was glad to know this, before he became even more disapproving of the marriage. They had all wondered why the soldier was so strange, and now they knew. They could get help from these wizards to make the base understandable to him, and Zhanna thankfully already knew. Things were finally starting to look up.

——————————

Scout really needed to talk to the other teammates in private. He wished they were back, Spy needed their help bad.

It started out weird but harmless enough. Spy looked off at nothing, wandering the halls and staring out windows for no reason. Jeremy wasn’t good at talkin about feelings, and he didn’t know what to say about Spy’s nightmare from the night before. But after a whole day of Spy acting really weird, he decided to check up on him.

Nobody was here to make fun of him for being weak, and nobody would have anyway. He was starting to wonder how much his brothers had ****ed up his brain, for him to be hesitatin in the empty base.

He visited new Spy in the smoking room that night. He was just sitting there, looking into the fire. His revolver was on the side table, but the barrel was open and clearly emptied of bullets. Spy was smoking a cigarette and holding a glass of wine. When he heard the door and Scout’s footsteps, he lifted the glass and looked in the reflection on it.

“Oh, hello. I was not expecting you.” Spy said, turning suddenly. This was wrong. Nobody else was there, he shouldn’t have been checking visitors with a wine glass either way. “Heh. Whaddya mean? We’re the only ones here right now…” There was something wrong in Spy’s eyes, but he couldn’t place it. Jeremy was getting another nasty gut feelin.

“You are a nice person, desert Scout.” He nodded once, still feeling uneasy. “Please close the door.” Jeremy did and looked around. “What’s wrong? Did a BLU Spy get in?” “No. Not BLU. Something worse, but I cannot say.”

“Spy, what’s goin on?” Jeremy asked. Spy went real quiet for a minute, too quiet. When he did look at him, he didn’t look right. “I’m going to die soon. That helicopter, it was no accident.” The room was warm from the fire, but Scout froze and felt a chill run down his spine. He hurried and sat down in a chair across from Spy.

“Someone’s after you? Who?” New Spy shook his head. “I cannot tell you.” “Well, I can’t sit back and ignore this. Who?” Spy stared into his drink, chugged it, and tried to shrug. “I had a false identity in Canada. Secret agent, their CIA. I came to RED when they got close to finding me out, to tracking me.” He stared at the fire.

“It seems they’ve found me.” Scout wasn’t the smartest, but that explanation was too simple, and too fast. Spy didn’t hesitate like when he talked about his kid. There had to be more to it than that. “What can I do to help?” “Let it happen. Don’t get involved, or you’ll be in danger too.”

“Hell no! Listen Spy- nobody in their right mind would cross Admin like that, and the others..” The others weren’t there. Spy thought he was getting silenced tonight. Jeremy didn’t know much about Canada, but he sure hadn’t heard of a Mob up there. He didn’t like this one bit.

“Admin… would prefer not to get involved. No use losing good mercenaries like you over me. So please…” Spy looked at him. “You must not try to stop it. This is why I did not want to say, I knew you’d want to.”

“I can’t do nothing, Spy. Listen, why don’t we just go to the camera room with some food and lock the door? Bring our guns, keep watch on the base… We can wait this out until the others get back and it’s too hard to target you again.” Spy didn’t look hopeful at all.

“When I.. When I die.” He pulled out a sealed envelope. “Give this to the Administrator. But don’t read it yourself, she wouldn’t like that.” Scout thankfully had two words to try to read in the fire-light. Divorce Papers.

“My ex… I want her to get my money when I’m gone. And I want Admin know that she was uninvolved in this matter, so she can tell the Canadians to stop at me.” He put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Remember, whatever happens, my ex didn’t know anything.”

Scout stayed posted outside the smoking room all night. He didn’t know whether Spy was having another episode, or if this was real. And he wasn’t gonna take chances. The others had to know when they got back, the minute he could pull them aside and explain. This wasn’t right whether it was real or not.

Spy had been hesitant to talk about his kid. His ex had a two year old. They were in danger, and Jeremy was smart enough to know it. He didn’t believe that Canada story, Spy musta gotten in trouble with the mob or somethin. Somebody who was actually bloodthirsty, either way.

Scout had never heard of the mob infiltrating the Gravel War. The old Admin was too scary even for them. But Pauling was in charge now… they might have gotten the idea that it would fly with her in charge. Maybe Spy was a basket case, but somehow, Jeremy doubted it.

All he knew was that something was wrong, and the others needed to get back already.

[across-violet-skies]

Febuwhump day 22: "you weren't meant to be there"

Whumpees: Sky & Wild

Whump Rating: 2/10

TWs: violence, explosions, blood

Sky ducked as a sword slashed through the air over his head, eyes carefully tracking the monster’s movement as it tried to attack him. The knight tightened his grip on Fi, swinging her low to hit the monster’s ankles. It howled and stumbled back, ankles spouting blood as it fell with a loud thump. Now, it was certainly out for the count, but Sky wasn’t cruel, not even to monsters. With a shout, he leapt into the air, letting gravity bring him down so Fi could plunge into the beast’s chest.

Sky let his gaze sweep over the battlefield. He had ventured a good distance away, but there were still a ton of monsters swarming his brothers. Warriors was slicing large numbers of Bokoblins down like it was nobody’s business, Legend was dual-wielding fire and ice rods, and Hyrule was taking full advantage of his Fire and Jump spells. Wind and Four were back-to-back, using each other as cover, while Time was using his heavy sword to his advantage. Twilight was… well, somewhere. That wolf of his was ripping tails off of Lizalfos, so he was probably somewhere close. And Wild…

There was an excited shout as Wild leapt from a tree, bomb arrows nocked and ready to shoot. Time seemed to slow down as the Champion shot three of them at once, eyes locking with Sky’s and widening at the sight.

There was barely any time for the Skyloftian to react before heat was billowing out toward him, slamming him backward with surprising force. His head hit the ground, causing spots to dance in his vision.

“-y! Sky!” Wild was standing nearby, yelling his name nervously. The Champion grunted, sharp sounds of clashing swords ringing in Sky’s ears. He blinked dazedly, holding a hand to his head as he slowly sat up. Everything was blurry, but he could make out the form of Wild fighting some tall blue thing. It was taken down quickly as Wild ran to his side, coming into focus as he got closer.

“Sky!” Wild exclaimed, hands hovering over him helplessly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think… you weren’t meant to be there! You weren’t meant to get hurt! I assumed you were over with the others, and then I saw you and it was too late and-”

“Wild,” Sky murmured, shaking his head. It made the world spin around him, so the knight closed his eyes with a grimace. “It’s okay. I’m fine, just a little banged up.”

The Champion wasn’t convinced. “But-”

“Is everyone else okay?” Sky interrupted, cutting Wild off before he could spiral.

Wild paused, nodding. “...I think so. A couple of them are still fighting, um…” He paused, presumably to take a look back at the rest of their group. “‘Rulie’s healing Four, but it doesn’t seem too serious.” He turned back, fingers twitching as he wrung his hands anxiously. “Are you okay? I’m really sorry.”

“I’m alright,” Sky assured. “Nothing a bit of healing can’t fix.” Then, as an afterthought: “...and maybe a nap.”

Wild’s bark-like laugh was sharp and more relieved than actually amused, but it seemed to be enough. “We can do that. Actually, I think…” He grabbed his slate, tapping around to produce a bottle full of red liquid. “Here. It’s not a red potion, but… it should help.”

Sky smiled, accepting the bottle. He drank a little over half of it, sighing as his vision cleared up and his ears stopped ringing. “Much better. Thanks.”

The Champion waved his hands in an “X” pattern, shaking his head vigorously. “No, no, you shouldn’t be thanking me… I’m the reason you got hurt in the first place.”

The Skyloftian shrugged. “Well, you didn’t know. It’s not like you saw me and decided to shoot anyway.”

“Well-” Wild faltered, brows furrowing. “Yeah, but-”

“That’s all that matters.” Sky held his hand up. “I’m okay, you’re okay, and most of the monsters are dead.”

“...I’ll be more careful next time, I promise,” the Champion mumbled, offering a hand.

Sky chuckled, letting himself get pulled to his feet. “That would be appreciated.” He smiled. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s in the past now.”

Wild cracked the smallest smile, nodding. “...Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

–> support me on ao3!

[onceuponanaromantic]

it's a long story (tell me anyway)

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt FFF226: By Any Other Name. Enjoy!)

Fire licks at her hands where she presses them into the burning hull of the spaceship and curses. Fire twists through the ruins of her jacket, biting at her undershirt as she works through the combustion equations in her head, pulling at the wards to admit her new ward as they spiral rapidly through the atmosphere. She calculates the propulsion through rapidly decreasing oxygen levels and increasing heat, ignoring the light and smoke.

In the last few moments, it takes as she sings to it, using the last of her oxygen. And the darkness takes her.

“Hell of an entrance, Ira.” She wakes to the horrible pungent smell of the healing ward. Herbs and antiseptic make for a terrible combination, but they also make for an efficient combination so she bears with it. “Welcome home.”

A hand pats hers, and she squints at the physician treating her. The rough callouses from scalpel use brush against healing skin. The room spins around her as she tries to see through the haze. “Don’t sit up. The smoke did a number to your lungs and your bloodwork made Healer Kyrie curse all sorts of things when it came in, so I recommend you take their instructions.”

“Rest, Ira.” She doesn’t know what expression her face must be making but it’s enough that Dr Kaiyan laughs. “I know you’re not familiar with the concept but it really will help.”

            “It’s not like Rin is going anywhere.”

            Something beeps in the background. Kaiyan curses.

“I need to go now, but let me know if you need anything and,” she hesitates, “it really is good to see you. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

I love you too, she would have said if she had any voice to say it with, as the door closes.

Let’s talk about a hypothetical situation. Let’s say that you’ve spent years staring at warding because you were never that good at making friends anyway. Let’s say that you tell your older sister, who is also your guardian that there’s a problem. That in twenty years’ time, there’s going to be a problem with the magic because there’s an error in the original flow structure that initially imported magic over from a different world. Say, no one takes either of you seriously because what arrogance, to presume that you knew better than the warders who set up the initial system.

Say it happens in six years instead of twenty. Say the systems begin to crumble, and there’s panic and there’s no solution to be found. Say your sister by this time is a priestess who finds a way out through an ancient book. Say she twists the magic to rely on her soul through an ancient spell that converts a death into eternal sleep. There’s a way to get out from it, true love’s kiss, but it will undo the original spell.

They hadn’t even bothered to call her. It was just a letter, mixed in with bills and advertisements for other conferences and new boba tea shops popping up in different nebulae. Just a letter with a plain font.

-

“Ira.” Her sister’s fiancée gets up from beside where her sister lies sleeping. “They told me you were back.”

“Right, I don’t think they told you the part where I fell out of the sky.”

Ana grins, despite the dried tear tracks and the wrinkles. “Oh, Kaiyan did mention that too. You look different.”

“You look different too.” She looks down at herself, taking in the stains from where she had been working through the theory again, checking her wards.

If nobody was going to take her seriously, well, she was going to come up with a solution anyway. It’s not like she wanted to be an academic full-time in the first place.

All she had wanted was to keep her sister safe. And it turns out she hadn’t even managed that.

(She hid the grief for her selfishness in balls of pain in her throat. She knew she was selfish. She could have come back earlier. She knew she could have, when her sister first told her the thing she had predicted was happening already. She knew. But it had been so nice, to be someone other than Rin’s sister. To change her hair, to change her name and her eyes and pretend it wasn’t running away when she had left. To refuse to answer Rin’s messages, because it was an old life and it wasn’t like Rin could come after her anyway.)

She notices the ring around Ana’s finger. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Ana breaks her gaze. “We’re not married. Just engaged and well, she thought we should have rings. I thought she told you.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“Have they found an alternate solution to the problem?” She winces at the harsh change in subject.

Ana spreads her hands. “Have at it.”

She turns away, mind already spinning ahead in threads and numbers and calculations. “And Ira? Come have lunch sometime. It’s been a while.”

It takes her twelve days, running around the city and not sleeping or eating except for a great deal of caffeine and the occasional snack bar. But she solves it. She sets the plan she had been working on for the last three years in progress, and she executes it perfectly.

She gets through the final result long enough for it all to click into place, for her to get to the room in the temple her sister sleeps in, for her to see her sister begin to stir.

“Oh good.” She says, and passes out herself.

            She wakes up to yet another argument being carried out over her. They all turn to her as she wakes, and she blearily glares at them.

            “How did you get over the true love requirement?” “Why isn’t there anything collapsing?”

            “Math.” She squints at them and then goes back to sleep.

            The next time she wakes, it’s to Rin and Ana talking quietly over her. Rin is the first to notice her, even though the premature wrinkles twist at the edges of her face

            “You look different.” It’s been a while. I’m sorry.

            “Hello, stranger.” Rin says, “I’ve missed you. What’s your name now?”

[iwoszareba]

Aqil and Sosiel fluff x5 thanks to everyone who sent prompts, i had a good time thinking up little scenarios and i hope you will enjoy reading them!! timeline is not very specific but i guess the important distinction is that the first two snippets happen before they officially get together and rest is after  

Caring for each other while ill for @lairiend (Sosiel please stop worrying about everyone else for 5 minutes)

Sosiel looked at the Knight Commander of the Fifth Crusade fluffing his pillows like it's the most normal thing in the world for someone of that rank.

He wanted to protest, say that there are far more important matters to take care of. That he was fine, really, he received everything he needed to speed up his recovery. Now it was only a matter of rest.

"I'm sorry." was all that came out of his mouth.

"What for?" Commander raised an eyebrow at him as he took two steps backwards to make some space "It's not like you got sick on purpose."

Bed covers felt incredibly inviting, even warmer than expected. Did Aqil use some kind of spell to heat up sheets for him and did it discreetly enough to not have it mentioned? That endearing smile made Sosiel want to believe in this suspected sleight of hand kindness.

But was he allowed to enjoy the pleasant sensations? Could he relax when everyone else was working hard to support the Crusade and ensure their survival?

"I'm no use to you like this."

"No one is useful one hundred percent of the time. There is balance to all things."

Aqil speaks of balance often but as Sosiel found out he rarely frames it as demands of good or the struggle against evil. Adjusting to such a different point of view wasn't easy but with some time and effort he started to understand it better.

"I need to turn the aspect of protection towards myself or I will damage my health further."

His words sounded more hesitant than he would like to but they still earned him a nod and a grin.

"See? You get it. If you destroy yourself you no longer can protect anyone."

The Knight Commander of the Fifth Crusade leaned in and left a ghost of a kiss upon Sosiel's brow.

"And I do not wish to see that happen." - - -

Patching up a wound for @turbulentpumpkin43 (i know this isn't the usual direction for this prompt but consider: oracle curses)

Being a healer involves seeing many bodies that are hurt or bruised but distress of it evaporates when Sosiel feels power of his goddess flow through him and sees the wounds close and injuries mend. He was however unsure how he felt about an ailment that completely refused to respond to the positive energy he was channeling... Something about his expression must have betrayed his thoughts.

"You don't have to do it if it's making you uncomfortable."

Usually Aqil would deal with his burned limbs on his own but today he used up all his magic during a particularly nasty fight so he asked for Sosiel's help and the cleric agreed without a second thought. He appreciated the trust that the Commander bestowed upon him and was not about to go back on his word.

"I just wish there was more I could do..."

"You can't heal it, nobody can. I only need some pain alleviated, that will be more than enough."

The gold glow of magic lingered for a while longer, bathing them in a warm light. After it disappeared neither of them seemed in a hurry to separate.

"So you are used to it?"

With some hesitation Sosiel decided to broach the subject. Aqil didn’t look at him and just shrugged with feigned nonchalance.

"I've been like this since the day I was given my oracle powers. The divine magic flows through me: raw, unbridled… burning. I knew it would affect me one way or another, I just… didn't quite expect the severity."

There wasn't any easy flowing response to such admission. To uncommon vulnerability in Commander's voice. In a wave of sudden emotion Sosiel raised the cursed hand and gently kissed the delicate skin. Then the moment passed and he found Aqil staring at him wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry, I- forgot myself. If I overstepped…"

His hurried explanation was cut short as the rough palm cradled his jaw.

"I thought you would resent that part of me… it's not the prettiest sight."

Sosiel covered the hand on his cheek with his own, leaning into the touch.

"There is not a single thing about you I could resent." - - -

One character playing with the other’s hair for @spyridonya (you said foxy so this is where my brain went hehee)

"It's getting colder again."

The sun almost completely disappeared behind the horizon and yet Aqil said that with a sense of betrayal worthy of something other than everyday occurrence. Few seconds later he was in his kitsune form, visibly more relaxed.

"That's much better." he said as his tail wagged vigorously.

The sight was so cute Sosiel couldn't help but smile.

"It must be nice to have fur that protects you from the weather."

"You bet. I'm still not sure how you people live without it all the time. Must be quite miserable."

He was teasing, his fox features well suited for a playful expression. It seemed like a waste to not respond in kind.

"It can be less miserable when you share warmth with another person."

"Ha! I see your game. You must be one of those fabled wily humans."

Without a warning Aqil pulled Sosiel towards him and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Close and comfortable. When they parted, Sosiel affectionately stroked his beloved's cheek. Pleasant texture under his fingers.

"So your fur is not only warm but also soft?"

"Mmmm, what can I say? We are perfect like that." - - -

Sharing a dessert for @dujour13 (i mentioned that on discord already but i loved writing that intro dialogue hah)

"...he was known as the master of ice magic. Real serious stuff too, evocation at its finest. But when he eventually decided to retire he publicly announced that all he is interested in now is practicing the art of frozen desserts. You wouldn't believe how big of a controversy it was among Nethys' faithful at the time. One group was adamant that his actions are a waste of his magical talents and therefore a clear heresy, while others argued that since he was using magic to pursue his culinary goals he was free to do so as the All Seeing Eye does not limit what magic should be used for. I personally agree with the latter group, more practical and down-to-earth uses of magic are often devalued in the academic circles which in my opinion is a deliberate attempt to keep magic in the hands of the wealthy elites. Don't you think people would be more interested in studying the arcane arts if they knew this path can lead to frozen treats?"

"About the ice cream…"

"Yes?"

Aqil snapped back to the present moment to look at Sosiel who with a soft smile was pointing at their shared bowl.

"...they are melting."

"Ah! I got carried away… again."

The spoon was in his hand the whole time, he had been waving it around for emphasis, now it was sheepishly returned to its intended role.

"You should have stopped me sooner."

Sosiel chuckled, his head resting in his hand, his eyes full of affection.

"I didn't want to. I like when you are so passionate." - - -

One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/neck tie/ etc. for @commander-lariel (Aqil is a brat that needs to be wrangled asdfgh)

It felt like several long minutes since Sosiel started adjusting different elements of Aqil's formal attire. Half cape, necklace, earrings… It seemed that nothing would escape cleric's scrutiny.

"Now you are just fussing. I won't be as impeccable as you, no matter how hard you try."

"It's not just fussing and you understand that as well as I do. First impressions matter a lot in diplomatic relations. I want this to go well."

With unyielding determination he went to retrieve a comb from one of the drawers to which Aqil let out a faux gasp.

"I can't even keep my bun? It's not that messy."

Sosiel did not even deign that with a response and simply returned to his previous position.

"It adds to my roguish charm! And that worked on you."

Little smile let Aqil know that his partner is now in on the teasing so he let his arms wrap around his waist and pulled him closer.

"You are not trying to seduce the ambassadors."

There was something incredibly delightful about the sternness of Sosiel's words combined with the playful glint in his eyes.

"I'm not? I'm pretty sure that’s exactly what Daeran suggested."

"Ah yes, Count Arendae, a veritable fount of good ideas."

The unfailing deadpan delivery of that remark made them stand in complete silence for a moment before they both burst out laughing. Aqil reached for his hair tie and pulled it loose.

"Fine, fine. Do your worst."

[townofcadence]

i'm a perfectionist. it's in my nature.

Workaholic Prompts

Nature was a funny thing to call stubbornness, Artair thought. But the thought didn't leave him. "Even perfectionists need rest when they're injured." He said it firm, unyielding. One hand stayed on her good shoulder where she'd been trying to rise, gentle but no less resolute. He didn't force her down, but he hoped the touch would at least deter her. "I know you want to help, but what I need from you is-- to be okay, okay?"

Maybe the injuries had been minor, maybe she'd heal in a few days with his spell-crafting binding them together. But that didn't matter. What did, what really did, was that she got injured at all. On his watch. He should've been faster, tried harder-- run further, so they could've made it to the TV without the yōkai intercepting them. Something. He had led her into a trap, and gotten her injured because he was stupid and careless.

She talked like a detective was supposed to be a protagonist. Like they were supposed to protect everyone from all harm, as if fucking creatures of the night were in her job description. As if that was a requirement of being a detective at all. She was a kid. She shouldn't be the one dealing with all this-- and she didn't deserve to suffer for it. She shouldn't feel she had to carry the weight of everything. The fact she chose to.... nobody who did was okay. He was not her job; it was his, to look out for her. And he'd failed her.

He needed to do better. To protect her.

That started here. It was the hand on her shoulder, and the pleading look on his face. "Please, Detective. I'll bring you your laptop if you want, but stay in bed. And try to rest. You lost a fair amount of blood, and I'm sure you're still in pain. Right?" She didn't answer, but that was answer enough. "Then please, let me take care of you? It matters to me, a lot, that you're okay."

When he felt her relent, albeit reluctantly, it was relief that threaded through his chest in soothing threads. He exhaled, shoulders drooping under the weight of aching gratitude. He removed his hand. "Thank you. I just.... need you to be okay. Just... how about I get your laptop, and you can read while I make you something to eat?" He moved the blanket of the bed in easy access for her, setting it over her legs. "I'll bring you water too, and something for the pain."

He was true to his word, bringing her a cup of water, a pair of ibuprofen, and her laptop and charger. He plugged it in for her so she wouldn't have to move, before passing the computer to her. "Just take it easy, okay? It won't do us any good if you don't take care of yourself and recover. Right?" He offered her a small smile. "I'll make you some tea or coffee when I get food going, if you want."

He waited for her answer, before moving to the door. He paused in the doorway, looking back at her. "...Thank you, Detective." One last offer of his appreciation, before he left her to her work. Maybe later, he could even convince her to sleep, if he was lucky.

[mareenavee]

*checking phone* Ah. Oh yeah. It's ask game time.

67%. What's the worst injury they've ever gotten?

Hello! Thank you for this :D I do have more snippets for this specific thing, so thank you for indulging my love of sharing these out of context bits of the fic LOL

Battery asks for Nyenna in my fic, The World on Our Shoulders!

Ask game is here.

67%. What's the worst injury they've ever gotten?

She was, in fact, stabbed by a vampire in a bit of a scuffle she had early on in her journey. She did almost die from this, but, plot armor. (:

How about a longer snippet of another character seeing the scars from this injury and others? This is from a future Chapter 37, maybe not final. Here's some war stories and general nonsense from two of my favorite characters.

“Oh, look at all those scars,” she tutted, walking closer to him. Worry crossed her face again. It was true, he did have a lot of scars and had already acquired quite a few new ones in his travels with her. They crisscrossed over almost every inch of him at this point, though he had managed to be fast enough to avoid any injury to face, thanks in no small part to his trusty chitin helm.

“I’m fine…most of these are ancient,” he said with a wave of his hand. He turned around to face her and pointed to his ribs on his right side. There was a raised silver scar that almost looked like a perfect spider web. “This is from the Chain Lightning in Raven Rock. Crazy, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, I have a smaller one just like it,” she laughed. She lifted up the very edge of her shirt, and sure enough, an angry red spider web sat at the bottom of her ribs right under the tidy, overlapping white fabric she used as a chest wrap. The scar faded off into long, scrawling lines of light pink from where another Chain Lightning spell had caught her in the water, too. He noticed a huge purple bruise around her hip there that the Healing spells hadn’t quite fixed. It was blossoming up over the waistband of her leggings. He grimaced.

“You alright there?” he said, pointing with a frown. She touched the edge of the bruise and hissed.

“Yes. It’s sore as hell still, but I’ll be alright,” she said. She twisted a little to check it better in the light. He noticed a thick, darkened scar right above the bruise, right in the crook of her waist. “I Healed it a little while I was in the spring, but it’s gotta heal up inside by itself a bit more, I think, for the bruising and swelling to quit.”

“Can’t catch a break, can you?” Teldryn said. He approached with a Healing spell in his other hand. “Can I try to help?”

She nodded and he laid his hand on her hip over the soft fabric. She sighed and visibly relaxed. The bruising didn’t go down very much, but he thought by his efforts it had faded just a tad. He gently touched the huge scar he noticed before.

“What’s this from?” he asked, eyebrows knitted in concern. She laughed heartily, much to his confusion. How very…Nordic of her.

“One of my first few scars. I was stabbed, almost to death, by a vampire. Well, one of two. She twisted the dagger mercilessly in the wound and I needed actual stitches because nobody’s Healing spell would work fast enough to combat the internal bleeding. Happened at the same time as this one,” she said, running her hand down the scar on her face and neck. She turned her cheek and pulled at her collar and showed off the bite scars there, hidden among the claw marks, written over by more pink Chain Lightning marks. “I definitely don’t have as big of a collection of these as you do, I realize, but I’ve seen my fair share of trouble so far.”

“Something like that could have killed you,” Teldryn said, still grimacing. “Dear Gods. You never told me!” He had since dropped the healing spell on her hip but his hand still lingered there. She hadn’t pulled out his reach yet, and that was something.

“Well…it was from when I first got to Skyrim. I didn’t even know how to properly defend myself. It’s kind of…I don’t know. Embarrassing? I didn’t really want to tell you about how weak I used to be,” she said, and he noticed her face had taken on a pink flush.

“Not weak at all, sera. Don’t feel embarrassed. You still survived it, somehow, even though that sounds pretty damned bad,” Teldryn said. She snorted in response. He still hadn’t moved away from her. Maybe he was being just a little too bold. He pointed at his left shoulder to a star-shaped scar there to deflect so he could savor the moment. “This is my first scar. I stole some cheese from a street merchant and he shot me with an arrow. I was maybe…six or seven years old? It went straight through the back to the front. It sounds sad, but I hadn’t learned how life really was yet, especially on the streets of Blacklight.”

Nyenna gave him a rueful look.

“I’m sorry, Teldryn. You shouldn’t have ever had to deal with violence like that, especially as a child,” she said and paused for a moment to touch the scar with eyebrows knit. “Odd. My very first scar is also from an arrow to the shoulder, all for being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time…strange how similar that is.”

She shimmied her left shoulder out of her collar and pointed. There it was, faded now, but still prominent. This was much more of her skin than he’d ever seen, and all of it was just points of past injury. Shame, that. She was still gorgeous, though, in his opinion.

“Ah, star-shaped, too,” Teldryn said. He felt his face starting to flush and decided to take a step back, reluctantly letting go of her hip. She tilted her head as he backed up and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yep. The other side I haven’t seen yet, but it’s probably just as bad. From the dagger in the Ratway. The arrow didn’t pierce all the way through with me,” she said, not seeming to notice how she was affecting him now. Shame, that, as well. She twisted her head to try and see the scar she spoke of, but couldn’t, and just hissed as she set her bad leg straight forward again. Teldryn sighed and walked behind her. He ran his fingers gently over the scar on the back of that same shoulder. It looked jagged and still was somewhat raised, but had already faded to a lighter red color. He must have done a decent job healing it for her. He noticed, too, that she shivered at his touch. He saw the gooseflesh begin to crawl across her neck and shoulders as he pulled away. He swallowed hard before he was able to speak.

“Hmm. Well, as nice as these…war stories have been, don’t you think we should join the others? They’ll start to talk otherwise,” he said slyly. She snorted and shoved him playfully. She adjusted her clothes and looked him up and down with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Find a shirt, or else they definitely will,” she said after a moment, flipping her hair back over her shoulder nonchalantly. She flashed him her own wolfish smile, which was surprising, before she immediately broke her façade and laughed. “We’ll talk more after you’ve had some rest. I didn’t realize how exhausted you must have been.”

[champagneandliterature]

Light in the Dark

Summary- Sirius and Remus both have trouble sleeping. But maybe they can find solace in each other.

Written for Marauder's Advent 2022! My character was Remus Lupin, and my prompt was Bluebell Flames.

Rated T.

Remus was sleeping. 

Correction, Remus was desperately trying to sleep but was not sleeping, not this close to the full moon. He would toss and turn, his body aching, his mind even more restless knowing what was coming in a few days. That was the most challenging part for him. The physical pain he could compartmentalize, break it out into bits and feel it, then heal it. The mental anguish though…he still hadn’t figured out how to snap shut the lids of the boxes in his brain that stored the fear, anxiety, and dread that came with his monthly transformations, which was why he just couldn’t get any rest. 

James and Peter were home for the holidays already. Sirius and Remus were going to meet them at James’, hopefully, the day after the full, three days from now. Mr. and Mrs. Potter didn’t exactly know about Remus’ furry little problem, and Sirius had convinced them that he was just staying on to keep Remus company until Remus’ parents returned from a “holiday” with his grandparents. Obviously a lie, but it was easier that way. There was no way they could tell James’ parents anyways, so a little white lie wouldn’t hurt them, and Sirius would still be home with them for Christmas. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of turning over and over on his now very rumpled sheets, Remus opened his exhausted eyes and realized he was facing Sirius’s bed. The first thing he noticed was the light coming from the slightly open curtains. Sirius never slept with his curtains open. He closed them so tight at night that nothing could possibly get in or out, and Remus knew he spelled them shut. Sirius had always told them that he “needed his privacy if you catch his drift” at night, and comments like “nobody loves me like I love myself,” coupled with lewd hand gestures, had been enough of an answer that no one had even thought to ask any further questions. But Remus was still surprised to see light from what had to be a Lumos spell coming from the end of Sirius’ wand piercing through the heavy drapery. 

Remus sat up, his feet hitting the floor, the only sound in the room. He was used to Sirius’ silencing charms as well, but not hearing the other boy breathing in such a quiet room was setting Remus on edge in a way he hadn’t really considered before when James and Peter were also present. Realizing that he simply wasn’t going to get any rest tonight (and worried about Sirius), he grabbed a book from his nightstand and padded down the stairs to the common room to read until breakfast. 

“Morning, Moony,” Sirius said as he sat down next to Remus on the leather sofa facing the now-dying fire. “Rough night?” He lifted the still-open book off of Remus’ chest and set it on the coffee table in front of them. 

“You know, everything just aches,” Remus replied, sitting upright, trying to stretch his arms over his head and wincing as he did. “I saw your wand light before I came down. Are you really that fond of the way you do it that you can’t stand to do it in the dark?” He chuckled. 

Sirius’ eyes grew large, and a faint bit of pink began to creep into his cheeks. “Well, like I’ve said a million times, I’m a gracious and caring lover. No one-offs in the dark for me,” he said, winking at Remus. 

“Right, no one knows how to please Sirius Black like Sirius Black does, right?” Remus smirked a little out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Exactly,” Sirius replied, all bravado again, nothing left of the shy blush that had painted his cheeks only a moment earlier. “Get dressed, Moons. Let’s go down and get you some tea and something to eat. You’ll feel a little better with something in your stomach.” Sirius moved to stand up and extended his hand to Remus to help him off the couch. 

Remus took it, shaking his head a little. “Such a mother hen, Sirius.”

  “Just when it comes to you, love,” Sirius replied, following Remus up to their room to change. 

It was night again, the moon just scant of full. Remus was unsurprisingly restless. He hadn’t even bothered to close the curtains of his four-poster bed tonight. And again, he saw wand light coming from Sirius’ side of the room. In much the same way he had done the night before, he put his feet on the floor. Instead of heading to the common room, however, he made his way over to Sirius’ bed and pulled a tiny sliver of the draperies open. The sight before him made Remus’ heartbreak, and he immediately pulled the curtains open and began trying to figure out how to save Sirius. 

Sirius thrashed in his sleep, his wand limp in his hand, but the light from the end flashed like a party strobe light all around him. Sirius' mouth was open in what looked like an anguished cry, and Remus realized that yes, Sirius was indeed screaming, but he had clearly set silencing charms. Remus thought for a brief moment. His mother had once mentioned that you shouldn’t wake a sleepwalker, but Sirius wasn’t a sleepwalker. He was clearly just trapped in a nightmare. Remus grabbed Sirius’ wand, and it immediately felt comfortable in his hand, unlike other times he had held another wizard’s wand. He cast a quick but very effective Finite Incantatem. The light from the end of the wand went out, and Sirius’ shrieks pierced through the dead silence of the room. Remus sat there on the edge of the bed stock still for a moment, not one hundred percent trusting what he was about to do, and then decided he didn’t have a choice and put both of his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and tried to shake him back into the waking world. 

Almost immediately, Sirius' grey eyes opened, and almost just as quickly, Remus found himself beneath Sirius with a wand pointed to his throat. Sirius was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated, his hands shaking while holding Remus by the neck and keeping his wand in a ready position to kill. 

“Sirius, Pads, you’re ok. You’re here, at Hogwarts, with me. You’re safe. You’re alright.” Remus managed to choke out. He watched as Sirius’ eyes began to soften and focus, turning quickly into a look of shock. 

“Fuck!” Sirius yelled, throwing himself off of Remus and huddling in the corner of his bed, knees to his chest and hands tearing at his jet-black curls. 

“Sirius,” Remus said gently, reaching for him only for Sirius to recoil in apparent disgust, and Remus pulled his hand back immediately.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Sirius snarled. “I don’t deserve it. I’m not worth it…I’m filth…I’m…” he trailed off, muttering to himself. 

“Pads, let me help you,” Remus said, not reaching out with his hand but with his now cleaved-in-two heart. “Please. Please let me just… I lov…” Sirius didn’t let him finish before transforming into Padfoot and leaping off of the bed, and sprinting out of the door. 

Remus sat in Sirius’ bed, surrounded by the smell of him, for a few moments. It smelled like sweat, fear, and loneliness, and it broke Remus’ heart the longer he sat there. He shook his head, stopped by his nightstand, and opened the drawer. He saw the gift he had been working on for Sirius and decided now was as good a time as any to give it to him, raised his wand and shrunk it, and walked across the room to James’ trunk to get the map to find out where Sirius had gone. It took him a few minutes, but he could see that Sirius was in the Astronomy Tower, a favorite when he was feeling down or melancholy. Remus reached back into James’ trunk to grab the cloak, its slick, cool fabric feeling familiar and safe in his hands, before wrapping it around himself and heading out the door to get to Sirius. 

Remus could hear the padding of Sirius’ feet while he was pacing the tower and the distinct sound of his mutterings. “No, no, no, don’t. Dirty. Worthless. Filth. Blood Traitor. Useless. Disgrace…” 

Remus stood stock still, knowing that if Sirius were in his right mind, he would have sensed him the moment he began to take the stairs to the tower. But, in the state he was in, Sirius wouldn’t have noticed if an erumpent had been set off under his own feet. Fuck, Remus thought to himself, how could he have almost let it slip that he loved Sirius? Telling him that would not make any of this better. He took a deep breath, took the cloak off, and opened the door, hoping for the best. 

“Pads?” Remus said softly. Sirius kept pacing as if he hadn’t heard Remus. “Sirius, I’m here,” Remus said louder now, putting himself in Sirius’ path. When Sirius turned around, he finally realized he wasn’t alone in the room. 

Sirius’ eyes bulged out of his head, and he desperately tried to regain his composure, “Re, I’m sorry. I’m fine. Just needed some air, you know? The room gets a little hot at night. I just felt…trapped,” he said, lowering his eyes to the ground, not meeting Remus’ gaze. 

“Hey,” Remus said, reaching out for the other boy. “It’s ok. Everybody has bad dreams. It doesn’t mean they’re real.” 

Sirius shrugged, “S’fine. I’m good. I’m fine.” 

“You said that,” Remus replied, walking towards the window and lighting a cigarette from a whispered spell into his hand, one for himself and then one for Sirius. He held one out, and Sirius took it, letting go of a breath he had been holding in for too long. “Want to talk about it?” Remus asked, exhaling the smoke. 

“Not particularly, but I’m guessing you’re not going to let it go that easily,” Sirius said, turning to face the window, avoiding looking at Remus. 

“I won't force you to tell me anything that you don't want to, Sirius. That’s not how things work between us. But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t care. I want to help you. I don't want you to hurt. But I know that I can’t fix everything, but on the other hand, sometimes just getting it out there seems to help.” 

Sirius exhaled shakily, “you’re not wrong, and I want to tell you, Re, I do. I just, if I say it all out loud, then that means it really happened, doesn’t it.”

“Sirius…” Remus said, swallowing hard. “You make the rules here. I won’t push.”

“What if you just asked me a few questions? Then it wouldn’t feel like I’m laying it all out?”

“Sure. I can do that.” Remus turned around and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, Sirius following him and sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor. 

“How long has this been going on?”

“You’ll need to be a little more specific, Moons.”

“How long have you been sleeping with your wand light on and silencing your bed?”

“Wandlight-since I’ve had a wand and figured out the spell. Silencing- since I left Grimmauld to live with James.” As if he was anticipating Remus’ following questions, Sirius kept talking. 

“She used to lock me in the cellar.” Sirius said quietly, taking another drag from his cigarette, “She’d leave me down there for a few hours at first when I was really young. No lights and not enough magic to make any. As I got older, she’d leave me down there longer, sometimes whole days and nights. No light, no food, nothing. Just dark, cold, damp. The kind that seeps into your bones. The first time it happened, I screamed for help. It only took an hour or so for her to send Kreacher down to spell me silent. I couldn’t even hear myself cry, Remus. I’d just scream and scream until my throat was raw even if I couldn’t hear it, I could feel it, right? And I’d just shiver in the corner, counting the moments until she’d let me out again.” Sirius vanished his cigarette butt and pulled his knees into his chest like he had done in the dorm room earlier. 

“Oh, Sirius,” Remus replied, trying not to sound like he was pitying him and trying very hard not to reach out for him. 

“Re, it’s ok. Sometimes I just get stuck there again and can’t seem to find my way back. I keep my wand light on so that I don’t have to be in the dark.” 

“I get it,” Remus said. “Why the silencing charms, though?”

“I still scream,” Sirius replied simply. 

Remus shook his head understandingly, he did his fair share of shouting in his sleep. 

“I know you do. I know you do the same thing and silence yourself when you’re having nightmares, Remus. I can feel your magic.”

Remus turned to him, a little stunned. “What? What do you mean you can feel my magic, Sirius?” 

“I can. I can sense when you cast. I swear I can almost taste it. It’s warm and comforting and feels…safe, I guess.” 

Remus couldn’t form a response. He opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to find the words settling on, “That’s incredible, Sirius,” he managed, falling even more in love with Sirius as he said it. 

“It’s true.” Remus’ heart soared. 

“Sirius, you said some horrible things about yourself, do you…is that how you feel?” Remus gently prodded. 

“Sometimes. It’s like, I know it’s not true. But that's all I’ve ever heard, you know? And I’ve only been gone from there for a few months. I don't want to believe it, but….”

Remus put his hand on Sirius’ knee, “It’s always at the back of your mind. I understand.” Remus said. Sirius put his hand on top of Remus’ and turned to look him in the eye. 

“You make it better, Re. You make it tolerable.” They both took deep breaths. Remus looked down at their entwined hands, looking back up quickly into Sirius’ eyes. Merlin, there was so much hurt there, but also something else, something that looked like love to Remus. 

Remus reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a tiny lidded glass jar. He said a quick spell and it returned to its original size. He held it out to Sirius.

“Here,” Remus said quietly as Sirius took it from him and held it in his unoccupied hand. Remus muttered a spell and the jar filled itself with Bluebell Flames, lighting up Sirius’ face in their pale light. Sirius let go of his hand and held the jar in both his palms. 

“It’s brilliant, Remus!” 

“Well, that’s only part of it.” Remus said another incantation and the flames faded into nothing in front of him. 

“It looks the same to me,” Sirius said, turning the jar in his hands. 

“It’s not, I can't see the flames now.” Remus said and Sirius looked at him confused. “I charmed it so that only you can see it. I’ll teach you the spell, then you won’t have to use a Lumos at night.”

Sirius’ eyes went a little wide again, “How did you know I’d need it?”

“Pads, even before tonight when you explained it, it didn’t exactly make sense that you had your wandlight on every night unless it was from nightmares. There’s nothing wrong with it. I just wanted it to be something for you, so that you didn’t have to tell me, or James or Pete, if you didn’t want to. And, I mean, there’s no way that someone could possibly wank as much as you tell us you do.” Remus said, chuckling just a little bit. 

“Like I said, Moony, nobody loves me like me,” Sirius smirked and laughed a little too, bumping his shoulder into Remus’.  “Really, Re, it’s…it’s everything. It can feel that it’s your magic. It’s warm, it feels like…it feels like home,” Sirius said, almost sighing. 

Sirius reached out and put his hand on Remus’ cheek and scooted closer to him so that their knees were now touching. Remus watched him close his eyes and lean in, guiding Remus a little with his hand on his cheek. 

“Wait,” Remus whispered, his eyes still closed, not really believing that he was stopping Sirius or that he was about to say what he was going to say. “It’s just, you don’t have to. I mean, It’s just a gift, Sirius, and you’re hurting, and I didn’t give it to you hoping this would happen,” Remus said, regretting ruining the moment, but he felt like there was no other option. 

“Re, look at me,” Sirius implored once again, taking Remus’ hands in his. “I’m not going to kiss you because I think I have to repay you. I’m going to kiss you because I want to. Because I’ve wanted to for a very, very long time,” he said plainly. 

“How long?” Remus replied. 

“Since I realized I wanted to kiss anyone.” 

“Fuck, Sirius. You can’t just say that and…” Remus was cut off by the feel of Sirius’ mouth on his. It was a little clumsy to start, Remus not realizing that Sirius was actually kissing him until a beat after their lips collided. But once he came to his senses, he kissed Sirius back with everything he had. He ran his tongue across the seam of Sirius’ lips, begging entrance and when Sirius’ tongue touched Remus’, it ignited something in Remus that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. They kept at each other for what could have been moments, or hours. And when they heard a voice in the hall Remus realized that at some point Sirius had made his way onto his lap and was straddling his hips. 

“Shit!” Remus groaned, pushing Sirius away from his now very sensitive neck. 

“What is it?” Sirius asked, clearly more than a little perturbed. 

“Listen,” Remus said, “It’s Filch. We’ve got to get back to the dorm.” 

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Fuck. Ok. Take the cloak, and head back. I’ll distract him.” He always managed to somehow sound calm and rational when it came to sneaking around. 

“How will you get back?” 

“Remus, I can be Padfoot. It’ll confuse the hell out of him, plus I’ll chase Mrs. Norris around a little bit. Padfoot will love it!” 

“You’re mad, Sirius.” “I know, but you love it,” Sirius replied, a little of that casual playfulness back in his voice. 

Remus reached out and squeezed his hand, and kissed him quickly.  “Be safe. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Re, can we talk when we get back? Can I sleep in yours?” They hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, not in a year or so since Remus couldn’t deny his feelings for Sirius anymore.

 “Yeah, Pads. You can sleep in mine,” he replied, internally panicking. 

“Great!” Sirius said, squeezing his hand back, kissing him again. “Off you go. I’ve got a cat to chase,” Sirius winked and transformed, bounding out of the door. 

A huge thank you to @mostlyoptimisticdinosaur for their help with this and for their director's cut commentary. I can't thank you enough!

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

wip: in the land of coldfire

Mathye stared at Deacon Clem.

"I... don't think I heard you correctly." He said. "It's being suggested that I do what?!" The younger hyur chuckled nervously, adjusting his glasses. Mathye's black temper was not only legendary in the Congregation, but in the sacred halls of the Cathedral and Vault as well. But his devotion to Halone and spiritual power was second to none among the priesthood, not to mention his more...liberal views were a badly needed panacea. Those who attended the rites and services Mathye presided over always sung his praises, finding comfort and reassurance--a few had even whispered of healing. For his part, Mathye shirked any and all praise, which only elevated his standing in the eyes of many.

At least he's not bitten my head off yet... "You are the foremost--and currently the most senior... Hearer, to borrow the Gridanian term for it, amongst us. For this plan you're well qualified, you have experience with Coerthas' elementals..." He trailed off as Mathye shook his head.

"No. I..." Merciful Halone, where could he even begin? Mathye thought wildly. The scheme was absolutely batshite! It reeked of a command being issued from behind the safety of a desk. He inhaled.

"Yes, I do know the rites and rituals to pacify elementals. Yes, I've participated and conducted them on my own. But such work is not going to help the situation here." He began. "The Shroud is...an entirely different entity. Not to mention..." Clem watched as Mathye bit his bottom lip in thought.

"Isn't the prevailing theory the eternal winter is ice elementals being given dominance over the weather?"

Halone help us he has no fucking idea! Mathye thought. And probably better to keep it that way. Coerthas' woes stemmed from the fact that the prayers of the people had caused the eternal winter--an inadvertent primal summoning of sorts. Something had gone wrong somewhere in the magic--Riven theorized that Phoenix's imprisonment by Bahamut probably had kept the primal's revitalization aether from breaking the spell and restoring Coerthas to normal.

"First off, I doubt we actually even have elementals out in Coerthas anymore." He began. "The screaming I Hear when I'm picking up on elemental activity makes me think more of undead spirits and wraiths." Clem's eyes widened and he quickly gestured a Halonic symbol for safety with his fingers.

"Fury have mercy!" Mathye didn't respond, but the scarred bite-marks on his good ankle throbbed slightly.

"Honestly, our elementals are probably dead." He said bluntly. Clem had shown himself to be a logical man. "If not dead, then driven insane past all reason. Take your pick, and add in whatever godsforsaken magic that keeps the winter going. No harmony and peace ritual or rite can fix whatever's wrong with them. And even if I could call one to me, there's the chance we could get a bloody flash-freeze and then well, nobody's coming back from that, now are they?"

[renee-writer]

PLEASE READ ❤️

The Black Telephone

Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience..

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked

"No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.

She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."

"Information," said in the now familiar voice.

"How do I spell fix?" I asked

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.

"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

"Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle .

A different voice answered, "Information."

I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "

"Yes." I answered.

Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?

[rooolt]

welcome to me spreading my glitter hearts agenda by building out all the teens because the nature of autism is that I just smash two things I like together until I've made something

i've talked about it before but basic rundown of how glitter hearts works is that you choose an everyday identity, a magical archetype, and a mystical connection and then a move from each so that's what this will be, and yes, it will be long I'm sorry

Scary:

Everyday Archetype - easiest one to pick, she's The Goth. Stats determined by the goth is that she's good at magic and bad emotions. I think a good move for her would be "I live in darkness, too" which gives you a bonus to relating to people if you relate it back to yourself, she talks about herself a lot and likes to make things about her so I think it fits

Magical Archetype - The Witch is a ranged spell caster but not like a support class. I like "Magic Beam" for her, which is exactly what it sounds like but I think hers would be just like a huge massive purple fireball.

Mystical Connection - This was the hardest to me, but I think it would be dark. There's this one move for dark called "Darkness Within" and basically it gives you a bonus on a thing called "we can do this together" actions but if your relationship with those people breaks, you gain the isolated condition, which like, nobody talk to me

Normal:

Everyday Archetype - This one was hard for me, because I knew I wanted it to be an emotional one but it was hard to decide. I ended up going with The Team Player because of like school spirit and such. There's a move called "Better Together" which helps you on "we can do this together" rolls, but it means you can't have competitive relationships with anyone (in Glitter Hearts you and other players can be cooperative, competitive, or have a broken relationship) and your relationships break easier

Magical Archetype - The Idol is the support/healer class of this game and I think it works that instead of like a performer, he's a mascot ya know. "Gentle winds of healing" is the healing move and he's a healer okay

Mystical Connection - This one makes me crazy, and it's Love. There's a bunch of good moves for this, but "Unconditional Love" allows you to try and cure conditions like self-doubting or isolated or stuff like that

Taylor:

Everyday Archetype - Does everyone wanna hear the funniest sentence I've ever read in the rules of a ttrpg? "You are immune to the self-doubt condition". It's so Taylor it killed me. So yeah he's The Overconfident with "I know who I am".

Magical Archetype - I think he'd be The Warrior just for the cool sword. The warrior lets you build a weapon that's also like an object on your person (SWORD! CANE!). I think his would be Hand (Swords), Sharp (damage used for swords), and Returning (exactly what it sounds like) for the cool anime drama of it all

Mystical Connection - Cop out, but Fire. HE'S A DEMON WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME. N E ways he gets the move "Burn" to add fire to his sword and that's the end of that.

Lincoln:

Everyday Archetype - The Athlete, duh. None of the moves are especially great for him but I can't not. "The Quarterback" is fine and just gives a bonus to acting first

Magical Archetype - Protective paladin, he's The Defender, easy. "Otherworldly Defender" lets you have some sort of success on any "Protect someone" action, even if the roll fails

Mystical Connection - Are you ready for the one that makes me crazy? Are you ready for the one that makes me nuts? Trust. I'm ruined. Moves aren't as insane, but it's the idea of it. "Firm Foundation" just makes you better at protecting people, sorry I'm an absolute gamer who needs to make things good.

That's basically it. The way Glitter Hearts works is if you fail a bunch you get better and you can get more moves and stuff. It seems like a great game, I'd love to play it some day

[archive-of-the-guild]

✌𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼!✌

For when your character is fed up, pissed off, vindictive or even just sassy as fuck! Whichever comes first.

______________________________________________________________

"Give my condolences to your mother, seeing that face on the baby she birthed must've been traumatizing"

"Your face is fit for radio and your voice is fit for silent movies"

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but I wouldn't wish that horror on even you"

"Ooooh, this one's sharp... sharp as a marble"

"You look like a walking side-effect of a bad potion interaction."

"Boy, you're a few cards short of a full deck aint'chya. Have a card." Proceeds to hand a random chard to Person B.

"You are a background character in your own life."

"You're none of your best friend's best friend."

"I keep wondering why others let you hang around. I mean, most npcs are useful."

"This is exactly the sort of acquisition i would expect from such a paragon of mediocrity."

"Woooowww. That's impressive. Did you smash a clay pot to find that or was it a prize from a county fair?"

"Hey, if you're looking for your dignity, i don't have it."

"You're clearly not the farthest-sliding penguin, are you."

"If you had brains, I'd tell you to think back to everything you ever did. Alas, here we are."

"Why? Just... why?"

"Look at your friends. See what they're doing? That's exactly how you ended up in this predicament."

"So were you bored and decided to ruin your own quest, or...?"

"You know, I love a sensible, level-headed partner... if only you could be like that."

"Whatever you want from me, that's not gonna help."

"Could you not? There are better ways to waste everyone's time."

"You know, even you could be the most clever one in the party. You just need to consider a solo career."

"Ah, a classic. You thought you were smarter than you actually are."

"I'd tell you not to do that, but you're gonna do it anyway."

"Oh, welcome! Let me guess - more bad decisions on top of your previous stupid decisions?"

"I don't know why I even care."

"You do realize I can insult you all day, right?"

"Oh thank you, but I didn't really NEED more material to ridicule you with."

"You need to keep that stupidity of yours in check - there's only so much healing supplies in the world."

"Careful. I hear it can be rather dangerous to use your entire vocabulary in a single sentence."

"It wasn't until I met you that I was grateful for my extremely poor eyesight."

"If you were a spell nobody would bother to learn you."

"Whoa! What diety did your parents piss off to have made you?"

"Look at this one, brain so smooth. No wrinkles. No crinkle."

"What you really need is a miracle to get out of this mess, which I have no doubts was your fault to begin with."

“Look, buddy, I could use a good conversation, so… would you mind leaving?”

"You need to apologize to the trees for all the oxygen you've wasted."

"You're a dollar short and a day late to the fair."

"I'm not even sure science can make use of you."

"If someone took you, consider them your new family, cause i ain't paying to get you back."

"Even a gorgon would keep her eyes shut with you around."

"If I was to make a diss track for you, it would be an encyclopedia."

"When your parents said you could be anything you wanted, a disappointment was not supposed to be an option."

"I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain how much of a bad idea this is."

"Does vicious mockery even work on you? Your intelligence is so low you probably think its a delightful complement."

"I became an atheist after meeting you. What kind of cruel god would allow you to exist?"

"You remind me of Rapunzel, except instead of letting down you hair you let down all of your friends"

"Please have some gum. Or toffee candy. Anything to stop you singing!"

"May you one day deserve the good life."

"If you were any more dense, you'd sink."

"Well, my time of not taking you seriously is coming to a middle!'

"You make a match look as bright as the sun."

"I see you're the kinda fella who packs a bag of sand and forgets a breath mint."

"It must be nice living with your brain. Having to consistently remember to consciously breathe must make up for most of your entertainment."

"You've got 2 braincells fighting for third place."

"My condolences to you for that unfortunate curse you have. What? That's your natural look?"

"I sensed your presence before you even arrived. What did you EAT?!"

"Ha! [laugh] You're funny. But looks aren't everything."

"You've got darkness in your soul. I can smell it! Oh, no wait, I think that's your breath."

“You make me wish my immune system knew my eyes existed.”

"I envy everyone you've never met."

"I'd ask what's wrong with you, but I think it would be faster to ask what isn’t."

"How is it that you have two functional legs yet have gotten absolutely nowhere in your life?"

"If your intellect was the sun, we'd all freeze."

"I know a good way to get rid of flies. You know, for the ones buzzing about in your empty skull."

"Your parents aren't disappointed in you, they know this is you living your best life. Tragic."

"What you just said was so stupid, I could drink alphabet soup and crap out a more coherent sentence."

"Because I pity you, I'll make sure to aim for your face in this fight so that swelling can improve it."

"You would take the bronze medal in a 1 on 1 intellectual competition with a rock"

"When you were born, the doctor said, 'No refunds.'"

"You look like you took every medication in the world and suffered all of the side effects."

"You seem like the type who would lick butter off of the sidewalk."

"You know, whoever invented the word 'fool-proof' clearly never met you."

"I'm really not sure what is deeper: my hatred for you, or this hole you've dug yourself into."

"It's funny that you're confident enough to bet your life on your abilities, yet you don't seem to have any."

"Are you always stupid, or are you making a special effort today?"

"Some day you'll go far..... and I hope you'll stay there."

"I'd like to see things from your point of view, but I can't get my head that far up my ass!"

"By looking at you, now I know what you get when you scrape out the bottom of the barrel!"

"What are you going to do for a face when the monkey wants his ass back?"

"I would try burning you, but burning trash is supposed to be illegal."

[constellationcrowned]

❛Nobody said healing spells were gentle so just, bear with me a second.❜ [ Might I offer Kariom a little Melody in this trying time? ]

✧✦⭒PROMPTS FOR MAGIC WORLDS

His expression shifts underneath what is undoubtedly meant to be a genteel light but rather than relief or anything positive the man's expression is one of mistrust. Fearful mistrust, even.

"Absolutely not! Get away from me you, you---" He can't think of a proper word so he let's his body do the talking; small stones shift and rattle and wet grass squeaks as he steps away from the stranger. He's also leaving a thin blood trail in his wake but he won't acknowledge that just yet. "Don't come anywhere near me, NOT ANOTHER STEP!"

The distance between them---not to mention the internal knowledge that Kariom could almost definitely outrun her if he needed to---was alleviating his stress somewhat but the persistent throbbing in his arm was getting harder and harder to ignore. At least he knew someone he could go to---someone he could trust---and it definitely wasn't this person. It also doesn't help that the last stranger who had professed to be 'helping him' was a TRAITOR TO THE CLAN, that vile...!

"Out with it, rakiba!" The girl didn't even seem like a maverick at all but the word just flies out of his mouth, so great is his paranoia and rancor, "You just show up literally out of nowhere and profess to want to help and then try to, I don't know, use melalo magic?! Bah!! I'M NOT FALLING FOR ANY OF YOUR TRICKS so you better hurry up and tell me what you're really after!" He's pressing his wounded arm tightly against his chest; enough so that his blood is starting to stain the front of his sweater, but seems bent on ignoring it. Answers were more important.

[xaharadesert]

Polyamory - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: this one is for @xerhhere! To make this clear, 5 LIs + MC are all in a polyamorous relationship, so the formatting here will be a little messy :) and obviously it’s 5 LIs rather than all 6, because either Portia or Julian will be left out. The post will be separated into 6 sections as usual, but they all connect back to one relationship! Also, this will be split into two posts, as this ended up being quite long :) Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are open!

❤️Julian❤️

He unintentionally becomes the mother hen of the group

Now, you may think, but isn’t Julian the one who always goes off on wild and dangerous adventures?

The answer is yes, but his attitude is much different when he has 5 other people to worry about

He constantly carries around a bag with everything that might come in handy during an emergency

You know, just in case

Now, as for his dynamics with each other member of the polycule…

His relationship with Lucio is incredibly strained at first, due to their history

Admittedly, the two of them can have fun together in less serious settings, but any attempts at emotional intimacy are painful at best

It’ll be a long time before Julian is comfortable opening up to Lucio, especially without someone else around

His relationship with Muriel can be a bit awkward at times as well, although it’s more due to the fact that they’re polar opposites

They do eventually warm up to each other, but only in certain situations

Julian is very fond of Muriel’s quiet nature, since he’s such a good listener, and Julian loves to tell stories

He also occasionally uses Muriel’s size to scare off people he’s unintentionally pissed off

When it comes to Asra, Julian tries to do his best to keep his distance, at least in the beginning

It’s not that be doesn’t already love and care for Asra dearly; he just understands that Asra needs more space than Julian is usually willing to give

He works on bettering his clingy nature, and tries to be more considerate of Asra’s independence

It may be surprising, but Julian actually gets along best with Nadia

The two of them just click

He encourages her to relax, and will often exchange stories and gossip with her over wine— it’s a tradition they always look forward to at least every other week

And of course, he’s absolutely head over heels in love with you

You’ve helped him heal and grow into a better person, and he’ll love you forever for it

He wouldn’t trade you for the world

🧡Portia🧡

She’s the one who always makes sure that nobody ever feels left out at any time

Pretty much everyone adores her; she doesn’t have a tainted history with anyone, so it’s easy for her to worm her way into every heart

She’s also the one who organized group dates, because she seems to be the only one capable of keeping track of everyone’s schedules

And onto the more specific dynamics…

She finds Lucio to be the one it takes her the longest to love, mostly because of her preconceived notions about him

To be fair, his past is stacked against him, and it’s valid for anyone to be wary (especially when she’s heard from Nadia first hand exactly what he can be like)

But she gives him a shot, if only because you seemed to get along with him so well

She meshes well with him, in that she can do along with some of his more ludicrous ideas

As long as nobody gets hurt, she’s down to try anything once, even if it’s some ridiculous rich person thing that sounds like he just made it up on the spot

On the other hand, she gets along incredibly well with Muriel right away

They both share a love for animals, and they quickly bond over that

They will often spend lots of time together, tending to their various animal friends

Not to mention, Portia finds Muriel’s quiet nature to be pretty endearing— he’s a good guy to cuddle up with and do something relaxing

Asra and Portia are perhaps one of the most chaotic duos there is

Asra is a master of magic; Portia would do anything to learn

Together, they work their way through teaching Portia magic, as well as inventing entirely new spells

They get into some kind of predicament more often than not, but it’s always good natured

Portia also calls Asra out when he’s being a shut-in, and always drags him out when he’s trying to isolate himself

And of course, Nadia and Portia get along famously

Portia looks up to Nadia tremendously, but she also takes on an equal amount of the work in the relationship

Nadia openly admits that she doesn’t know what she would do without Portia, which is one of the biggest ego boosts Portia has ever gotten

Together, they seem a little bit like a comedy duo— Nadia, seeming to fit the trope of the calm and collected one, while Portia is the unhinged woman who will stop at nothing for a fun adventure

Of course, this isn’t entirely true; Nadia definitely has a more fun side in private, and Portia is the most methodical woman you’ll ever meet

When it comes to you and Portia, she views you as a best friend before anything else

The two of you can talk about anything and everything; she trusts you completely

And you’re always the first to hear whatever new gossip she’s come up with

💛Lucio💛

He’s a bit of a misfit within the group

His toxic past definitely set him apart from most of the others for quite a long time

But he tries every day to make it up to them

He has a bit of an unfortunate habit of playing favourites, in that he’s much more comfortable spending time with people he knows he hasn’t yet wronged

So, going into specifics…

He doesn’t totally understand why Julian dislikes him at first

Well, yeah, he definitely remembers what he’s done wrong, but he tries to minimize it to make Julian forgive him faster

(Obviously this is bad and toxic)

Julian is having none of it, so it takes a long time before the two can actually get along

But Lucio is absolutely delighted that he can have so much fun with someone he has always considered a friend

Oh the other hand, Lucio meets Portia, and latches on as fast as he can

Not only has he never directly done anything to wrong her, but she wasn’t during around during his reign

Not to mention she’s just fun, and tolerates some of his weirder ideas

When it comes to Muriel… it’s simply not happening

There’s too much trauma for something completely healthy to ever spawn from it

The two stay away from each other

Same goes for Asra, although Asra will tolerate him in group events

Lucio respects this, and cuts his losses

Nadia, on the other hand, is apparently willing to give Lucio another chance, which he is absolutely delighted by

Admittedly, Nadia refuses to be alone with him for quite a while, so there’s someone else present for a lot of the beginning until he can prove he can change

But he’s eager to show off his progress, especially to Nadia

The two of them were close, once upon a time, and Lucio hopes that they can one day return to something similar

He understands that he messed up badly with her, but he hopes to be able to make up for it

As for you; well, he clings to you tightest of them all

You were the first person to stick by his side and tell him he could change

He’s not letting you go for anything

He’ll be relying heavily on your while trying to make repairs with the others

And he wants you to know that he loves more than he’s ever loved anyone else before

He hopes that one day that others will accept the same love from him

[vennilavee]

A Lover's Brew

thank you so much to @fitztantrum for these GORGEOUS COVERS...I AM IN LOVE.

Pairing: vampire gojo satoru x witch reader, vampire mei mei x witch reader, gojo satoru x reader x mei mei

Summary: you're a witch, and the cute owner of the astral apothecary. your apothecary is known to be one of a kind, with all and any of the magical ingredients that anyone could possibly need. two of your loyal vampire customers, gojo and mei mei, are on a mission- to see who can sleep with you first. unbeknownst to you. or is it? (this is an 18+ fic)

Word Count: 8264

Warnings: alcohol, cursing, gojo and mei mei place a bet on who's going to sleep with oc first lol, oc is kind of an unreliable narrator and it's on purpose, biting, blood sucking, the use of the word 'whore' and 'slutty', one mention of curly hair

Smut Warnings: choking, car sex, a sex dream, scissoring, praise, everyone wants to fuck lol

A/N: yes ive been talking abt this fic for months... congrats to me for getting this out on gojo's bday<3 please rb/comment if you enjoyed this! this fic is 18+

The Astral Apothecary was positively brimming with people today. You’re already sweating through your thin striped purple shirt, sure that sweat stains are visible under your arms. Oh well. It’s only a few days before Halloween, and your apothecary is the only one around for miles.

And your apothecary only carries the finest quality ingredients, if you say so yourself. Though, Shoko would definitely disagree and argue that her shop, the Honey Home, is superior.

It’s all in good fun, that usually ends up with you casting a pesky little spell to keep her company that expires after a few hours. Nothing too serious- only something like having a cute little rain cloud follow her around, drizzling Shoko’s clothes in a light rain.

But she doesn’t do the same with you, instead she scolds you and tells you to grow up. To which you very dramatically roll your eyes in response and tell her that if she truly wanted to be mature, she wouldn’t argue that her shop was better than yours.

And she would zap you lightly with a tiny bolt of electricity through her fingertips. Again, all in good fun.

You’ve always had this dream of sharing your witchy bits and bobs with the world. You’ve always wanted your apothecary to be a place where witches and wizards and warlocks could come together. Sometimes werewolves and vampires come by, too.

Such as one very annoying Gojo Satoru, who is currently strutting into your shop as if it’s not the fourth time this week that he’s been here. And it’s only Wednesday.

“We’re closed,” you say dryly from the shelf that you’re restocking, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, is that so?” Gojo drawls as he always does, honey slipping off of his dead tongue, “Doesn’t look closed to me.”

He looks at you from over his sunglasses, his icy blue eyes absolutely blinding. You can barely make eye contact with him on a good day, let alone when he’s clearly currently on a mission to fluster you.

“Unless you’re my delivery of root of solir, then yes we are closed,” you mutter, turning your back to him to dust off the shelves.

“You have plenty of solir over there, sweetheart,” he says. Damn him and his stupidly astute eyesight.

What else would you expect from a vampire? Much less one of the most powerful vampires from possibly the most powerful vampire clan in existence?

“Put your sunglasses on, I don’t want to see your ridiculous eyes. Nobody’s eyes should be that blue,” you mutter.

“Relax, I’m here on business today-”

“Oh, for once. As if that’s ever stopped you before, Gojo-”

“You don’t want my business?” Gojo asks, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, but remain silent. He smirks.

“How can I help you today,” you ask reluctantly, through gritted teeth.

“Mei Mei placed an order a few weeks ago for wolfsbane, healing crystals, dragon venom and silver leaves. She got a text that it’s ready, so I’m here for it,” Gojo shrugs, leaning over the counter. He dares to allow his sunglasses to slide down his nose, much to your chagrin.

“What, are you her delivery boy now?” you scoff, “It’s ready.”

Gojo doesn’t miss the skip in your heartbeat at the mention of Mei Mei. It confirms what he already knows.

“Oh, good, you know, she would’ve come by. But she got tied up with something at the school,” Gojo says. It’s a lie, but you don’t have to know that. You perk up instantly at that.

“Really? Well… will you tell her to stop by sometime soon? W-we got a new shipment of rose essence, she uses it in her hair sometimes. She told me,” you say somewhat meekly, feeling blood rush into your cheeks. You clear your throat.

“Course I’ll tell her, sweetheart. Don’t you worry your pretty head over it,” he smirks and winks at you.

You shudder, his slick smirk tattooed in your mind long after he leaves the apothecary. This is how he almost always leaves you- with a few choice words, a few fleeting touches. He always leaves you waiting, waiting and wanting.

....

As he always does, Gojo Satoru barges through the doors of the office with no regard to the surrounding silence. The man knows (and loves) to make an entrance.

Mei Mei doesn’t bother levelling him with a scathing glare. He carefully drops the heavy cardboard box to the floor, the gingerly wrapped glass bottles clinking together quietly.

“Got your stuff,” Gojo says cheerily, “Our girl says she got a shipment of rose essence. Said to let you know, asked when you’d come by.”

Mei Mei snorts. “She’d like that wouldn’t she?”

“She sure would,” Gojo nods, “She likes me better than you, though.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that. She can’t stand you, and who can blame her-”

“Trust me, she does. Once she gets a taste, she won’t be able to get enough-”

“Oh, shut up. You think everyone likes you because you’re a whore.”

“No, everyone likes me because I’m dashing and I like to bite,” Gojo says leaning over Mei Mei’s desk, “Even you.”

“Oh, please-”

“Yup, that’s exactly how you sounded that night, sweetheart,” Gojo says smugly. Mei Mei stands up from her plush leather seat, squares her shoulders and flips her powder blue braid to the side to meet his eyes.

She hates how his perfectly moisturized, shiny lower lip juts out the way it does. What a nuisance. Gojo Satoru is nothing if not vain, even by a vampire’s standards.

“That night will never happen again,” Mei Mei hisses, “Not even in your wildest dreams.”

“Right, that’s what you said the first time,” Gojo scoffs, “Wanna bet on it?”

“I’m not betting on anything with you,” she says swiftly.

“Oh? I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge. You getting soft with your old age?” Gojo jeers.

“You’re literally older than me, you fool,” Mei Mei mutters.

“I bet I can get her in bed before you can,” Gojo continues, ignoring her as if she hadn’t spoken.

“You’re disgusting,” Mei Mei rolls her eyes but her interest is piqued. She knows this is something she can win, considering the way you respond to her whenever she shows up at the apothecary.

Gojo gives her another sickly sweet smirk, one that solidifies Mei Mei’s decision. In the name of vampiric feminism, she hopes she is forgiven.

“I’m in, and I’m gonna win.”

....

A thin sheen of sweat lines your brow as you flick your fingers to shift the direction of the steel ladle in your brass cauldron. It sits in the middle of the shop, bubbling a lovely lilac shade. It’s bewitched to smell enticing to whoever enters the shop.

Shoko would call it “sketchy business practice”. You call it advertising.

Your nose twitches when the little bell attached to the top of the front door rings softly. You can smell the scent of her woodsy perfume already wafting into the shop and when you raise your head, you’re met with none other than Mei Mei.

Your heart does a funny thing. Mei Mei hears it, and you know it.

Her perfectly manicured glossy, black nails tap against the countertop. If it was anyone else, you’d find it annoying. But not with her.

“Long time no see,” Mei Mei drawls, her voice a melodic chime that floats along with the soft song playing in the background.

“It’s been a week or so,” you say with a shrug, “Not that long.”

Nine days exactly, but who’s counting?

“It’s felt like longer since I’ve seen you,” she nearly purrs, painted lips twisted into a smile. The barest hint of her fangs are visible-

Your throat goes a little dry.

“Gojo tells me you’ve got something for me.”

“Well, he talks a lotta shit doesn’t he?”

That pulls a dry laugh from Mei Mei, which makes you flutter internally. “That he does,” she murmurs.

“It’s rose essence. You came here a few weeks ago, you use it for your hair. Keeps it nice and shiny. And smelling nice.”

“And does it?” Mei Mei asks, “Keep it nice and shiny? And smelling nice?”

“If it didn’t, you wouldn’t continue to buy it,” you mutter. It pulls a laugh from her. Your lips quirk up as you fail to hide the slamming of your heart in your ribcage. You know that Mei Mei can hear it, if the way her dark eyes gleam is any indication.

Her fangs shine in the dim light of the store when she smiles. It sends a feathery shudder up your spine.

Mei Mei buys a carton of rose essence and a few other necessities, namely a pretty pink potion (that you created) that makes blood bags last longer than its usual expiration of nine days.

Her burgundy painted lips move, but you don’t really hear her when she speaks. You’re too busy staring at her lips, wondering how they might feel on yours. Not a single stroke of color is out of place on the outlines of her mouth- you wonder if she might enjoy the sight of her lipstick on your skin-

“That’ll be uh….three thousand four hundred yen,” you say clearly, pulling your thoughts away from the inevitable spiral that you’re heading down. You’re suddenly eager to go home, frustration building in your belly.

You swallow nervously- you can feel her piercing gaze on you despite not looking at her. Can she read thoughts? Can vampires read thoughts?

“Keep the change,” she says breathily, handing you a wad of cash. Despite her cold, undead fingers brushing against yours, you scoff.

“The change is five extra yen. Thanks for your altruism,” you mutter. Still, she laughs and takes her bags, sauntering out of the store in a slow hurry. The bell rings to indicate that the door has closed and you let out a long breath.

Competition has always been one of Mei Mei’s vulnerabilities, especially when it comes to Gojo Satoru. The undead man is infuriating, with his stupidly white hair that just so happens to fall effortlessly in his eyes. His blindingly blue eyes that he doesn’t allow very many people to see, except for those close to him.

There is no shade of blue that can compare, not when Gojo hovers over Mei Mei like this. His arms bracket her head as he slowly glides in and out of her warm wetness, lips grazing the corner of her painted mouth. He tugs her jaw towards him so she can meet his eyes and she absolutely falters.

There is no shade of blue that can compare to the way Gojo looks at Mei Mei in this moment- the pinprick of intensity that lines his irises as he holds her closer, rubs her clit in that way. Her cheeks are heated, somehow warm with color as he kisses her roughly. Her hands wander over the expanse of his back before squeezing his ass and he groans into her mouth.

“Satoru…” Mei Mei murmurs, “‘M close-”

“I know, sweetheart,” he groans, “Me too-”

And then there’s you. You’re watching them- the hurried rise and fall of Mei Mei’s chest, the way her hips meet Gojo’s thrusts- with your hands unashamedly in your panties from the black loveseat in what you assume is Gojo’s bedroom. You catch a glimpse of his striking eyes as he whispers something that you cannot hear to Mei Mei and turns his head to look at you.

You’re watching something that you probably shouldn’t be. But Gojo only smiles at you in that saccharine way, stilling inside of Mei Mei, and beckons you closer. Nearly tripping over your own feet as you strip and lay next to Mei Mei, hands running over her chest. Mei Mei opens her mouth, about to say something, her voice surely soft and raspy, but-

Your subconscious is rudely plunged back into reality as your alarm goes off. A dream. What a shame. Good morning to you. Your panties feel sticky and you’re uncomfortably aroused with nothing but Gojo Satoru’s thick, veiny cock and the bounce of Mei Mei’s tits in your mind’s eye.

With a groan and the ache in between your legs nearly forgotten, you rub your eyes in frustration as you begin your day.

You can’t decide whether you’re hoping that you can catch a glimpse of Mei Mei and Gojo at the apothecary today or not.

It’s about a week later, and Gojo hasn’t made much movement with his bet with Mei Mei. Objectively, it’s a little skeevy, but he’s never one to back down from a little healthy competition. Besides, they both have an eternal lifetime of damnation to make it up to you if you do get upset.

He knows Mei Mei has been frequenting the Apothecary, even if she avoids telling him. She’s just as competitive as he is, after all.

Utahime had caught wind of their little bet the other day, and smacked them both upside the head. She had stormed into the lounge, hot on their heels and probably ready to bite both of their heads off (fangs and all). It was probably the only time he and Mei Mei had ever agreed on anything-

“Well, you’re more than welcome to join in on the bet.”

“Or join in with us, in general.”

Which had earned another sharp smack upside their heads, respectively. Along with a scathing glare and a long tirade about how irresponsible they both were.

But today is a new day. And he plans on visiting you in the Apothecary once more. Gojo already has a plan of how he’s going to sweep you off your feet. He thinks you’re quite easy to read. He knows what people say of him- that he’s got a few screws loose. But Gojo is nothing if not observant.

He has a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand as he walks towards your shop. He’s also wearing silver rings and a thin necklace- he’s seen how your pupils dilate when he does. He’s no fool. It’s easy to want to impress you when he’s had a sweet spot for you for a long time anyway.

His thoughts drift to you once more, for the millionth time this week. He thinks of the way your curly strands of hair fall into your eyes and how you constantly swipe at the strands with your always manicured nails. Maybe you’ve painted your nails purple today-

Leaning over the counter in the shop, arms held close to your chest. Your dress is low cut and Gojo doesn’t hide his ogling.

He feels a gentle zing slide up his spine as you smirk at him with no guilt in your gaze. “Eyes up here, Satoru,” you say in a sing-song voice.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, unashamed.

“Oh, I know. I wouldn’t be able to help it either,” you reply, your gaze slowly dripping over his tall frame. He smirks at you in return. Gojo knows where he stands with you- you both only look at each other. No touching. Not yet, at least.

You hold your hand out to him with a pout and what is he meant to do other than take it in his own? Your palms are rough with the hard work that comes with being a witch in this city.

“Your hands are so big,” you marvel, tilting your head to the side. As if this is practiced. It probably is. Your voice is sugary and spicy, eyes glinting with mischief.

Gojo hums, ignoring the stroking of his ego with your words. “Maybe your hands are just small.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “Help me with something? What color should I paint my nails?”

Gojo is no fool. He knows what it means when a woman asks what color she should paint her nails.

“Purple. Like a lilac shade. It’ll look pretty on you,” Gojo says, “Though, anything looks pretty on you, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Gojo. You don’t need to throw me a line, I’m not one of your groupies.”

“That’s not what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

When Gojo swings the heavy, dark cherry door open, he’s immediately met with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine. He spots your glittery black cauldron in the center of the shop, a curiously sunflower yellow potion bubbling away.

He’s been here enough to know that it’s the healing potion you provide for the hospital on a weekly basis. The sunflower yellow potion is the one meant for werewolf cubs. Gojo is certain that Nanami’s probably going to stop by either today or tomorrow to pick up a few vials for Yuuji. He’s heard that Yuuji’s been sick the last few days, considering that he’s a newly bitten werewolf.

“Good evening Satoru,” you say from the backroom. Of course you already know he’s here.

“It sure is a good evening,” Gojo murmurs. You come out from the backroom with some dirt on your nose and your pink witch hat a little crooked. You brush away any remaining dirt on your wide legged purple pants and clear your throat.

Blood rushes to your cheeks at the sight of yellow, red and orange flowers being held steady in Gojo’s hand. You catch the glint of the ring on his right hand and swallow.

“Those are pretty,” you say, turning your back on him to focus on restocking your supply of bat wings, “You got a date later? Why are you here?”

“No I don’t have a date later,” he resists the urge to roll his eyes, “They are pretty, like you. They’re for you.”

“For me?” you nearly fall off of the stool you’re standing on, “Really?”

“Yes,” Gojo says easily, catching a glimpse of your nails. They’re a light lilac shade, just as he had suggested. Nice. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, so…”

You’re enthralled by him and the flowers, hardly able to believe it. You can’t recall a time that anyone’s ever purchased flowers for you, much less the man that you’ve been harboring a not so subtle crush on for who knows how long. Your heart bursts, affection blooming within the crevices of your ventricles for none other than Gojo Satoru.

“Thanks, Satoru. It… it, uh, means a lot. I mean it,” you say sincerely, rummaging around to find a nice vase for the flowers. You twirl your fingers for water to fill up in the vase and place the bouquet into the vase right in front of you at the counter.

“Now I’ll see it everyday,” you say happily.

“I’m happy you like it,” Gojo says, leaning forward over the counter and closer to you, “Your hat is a little crooked. I’ll fix it.”

You inhale sharply as the warm, vanilla scent of his cologne wafts into your nose. His eyes flash in your direction, not that you can tell. His skin is pale, nearly translucent but not quite. Pale enough that you can catch the faint lines of his prominent veins as they run up and down his arms.

Gojo’s neck is exposed, and you also catch the two circular bite marks on the right side of his neck. Either he didn’t care to conceal his...activities, or he forgot to. You have a strong feeling it’s the former. The red, purplish bruising on his pale skin is a striking contrast, and you can’t help but stare a little long at it.

You lick your lips. Gojo notices.

It must be on purpose that his black dress shirt is unbuttoned a few more buttons than usual. Your gaze lingers on the exposed expanse of his chest. And of course, your wet dream from earlier in the week trespasses into your mind. Flashes of his sinewy muscles, his powerful thighs replay in your mind and you drool. Gojo Satoru is standing right in front of you and what you wouldn’t give to see him like that in your reality.

You shift on your feet. Gojo notices. He also notices the tips of your ears and your cheeks are heated, your heart racing and you smell sweet.

His bottom lip is perfectly plump and glossy. You wonder how it might feel, pulled into your own mouth or gentle along the ridges of your chest. Or your neck. Is he compelling you right now? No, he can’t be. You have a spell on you that prevents any supernatural being from compelling you at all.

This is real. Though, that’s nothing new.

“Thank you for the flowers, Satoru,” you say softly, “They’re lovely.”

You’ve seen Mei Mei outside of the apothecary a few times now- she had asked you to get coffee, you had run into her at the grocery store (where she was in the blood and spice aisle), and at a nearby park. In fact, you’ve added an emoji to her name on your cell phone. Which is an honor that only a few people have.

Gojo Satoru is one of the few, of course.

Mei Mei had texted you out of the blue, a few days before the full moon, asking if you’d like to have dinner with her. She had invited you to have dinner with her in her home in the forest. Knowing Mei Mei, she’d be dressed to the nines. Which meant that you would be dressed up to the nines.

Not that you particularly minded.

You head out of your apartment wearing a powder blue satin dress, black heels and a pretty nude lipstick (applied to your lips via your magic. You were never great at a seamless lipstick application). The dress made you feel expensive- which is the same way Mei Mei made you feel whenever you were with her.

To your surprise, Mei Mei is waiting outside for you with a fresh bouquet of flowers while leaning against her sleek, black motorcycle.

“Oh,” you say, “I was going to drive to you.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” Mei Mei deadpans, “Besides, I texted you, remember?”

You don’t remember, but you bite your tongue. You tell her to wait outside as you place the flowers in a vase in the shop. She's patient, with her arms crossed.

She laughs when you nearly trip trying to walk back to her in your heels.

“Well, are you going to get on or what?” she quips, but greets you with a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before adjusting a helmet on your head.

“Watch the hair,” you mutter, using your magic to flick her on the forehead. Her perfectly painted lips pull apart into a grin.

“Sure thing, princess.”

The castle, you begin to realize, is the same one that Gojo Satoru also lived in. It’s somehow hidden in the expanse of the lush forest, tucked away between the shadows that the moonlight casts on the forest floor. It’s not a particularly huge castle by any means. It’s more cozy than anything.

You don’t know if he’s home, or if anyone else who lives in this castle is home, but you don’t think about it. Because watching Mei Mei put the finishing touches on dinner for you is a vision in itself.

She moves so elegantly, each shift and sway of her arm filled with purpose and power. Mei Mei could snap you in half and drain you of your blood easily. You shiver in excitement. Her glossy, baby blue hair tumbles past her shoulders effortlessly, shining with the lights in the dining room.

You try, and fail, not to look down her low-cut dress when she bends at the waist to place food in your place. You both know that she notices.

“You and Gojo,” Mei Mei shakes her head, “You’re both the same. So obvious about where your eyes go.”

“Gojo? You really want to talk about Gojo right now?” you ask incredulously.

She scoffs, “You and I both know you were thinking it.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to be so loud about it…”

“Eat up, princess. Food’s getting cold.”

Warmth spreads through your limbs as you sip on your wine with your feet tucked under you on the couch. The crackling of the fireplace is comforting, its warmth coating your skin like a soft blanket. You watch Mei Mei pour out another glass of wine for herself, her dark eyes glowing with the embers of the fireplace.

Her eyes are sharp, piercing right through the layers of magic that you’ve built around you. Mei Mei can feel the poking and prodding of your magic curling around her, almost with its own soothing heartbeat. You weren’t stupid enough to walk into the vampire’s den with absolutely no protective spells. Mei Mei can admire that.

“My mother used to warn me against vampires, you know,” you say off-handedly.

“Oh, is that so?” Mei Mei murmurs, curling up next to you on the brown leather sofa. The sofa looks brand new, barely worn in, but is still very comfortable.

“Said they’d suck me dry for all I was worth,” you shrug.

“And did you tell them that that’s exactly what you wanted?” she says with a laugh, eyes trained on the now fading, circular bruises on your neck. The deep, purple remnants of the last time you had seen Mei Mei still remain on your skin.

The memory of you sitting in Mei Mei’s lap on this very couch a week or so ago, quietly asking her to finally bite you is one seared into her brain. Her eyes flash at you as she licks her lips, fangs on display.

You cross one leg over the other, relaxing into the plush of the sofa. Mei Mei’s eyes not so subtly track the glimpse of your thighs as you shift. A quiet, dull throb echoes in her head as she thinks about the dazed, happy look in your eyes when she had drank blood from you. Witches’ blood is known to be sweet, but she swears that your blood is the sweetest honey-

Your black top haphazardly hangs off of your shoulders as Mei Mei presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. She can nearly taste your pulse jumping against your carotid vein- would you be as sweet as you smelled? Your warm, vanilla perfume bubbles into her nose but her senses are overwhelmed by the scent of your blood.

Witches’ blood. It’s coveted, and Mei Mei has the prettiest witch right here in her lap. Your lips are bitten and shiny, remnants from your gloss stuck on Mei Mei’s lips. You had ended up in this castle because she had requested a delivery of her products from the Apothecary.

And so here you were, one basket of potions later, in Mei Mei’s lap as she mouths at your chest while your hips move in time with hers. Her lips are even cold, not that you should’ve expected anything else.

“Look so pretty like this,” she coos, holding your face with her hand. Her freshly manicured nails are sharp against your skin, but she’ll never hurt you. Mei Mei lays you flat against the couch and buries her face in your tits without warning. You groan loudly when her lips swirl your clothed nipple- she must be impatient because she unclasps your bra and tosses it across the floor in seconds.

“O-oh,” you gasp as her cold lips press against your chest. Your back arches with each pass of her tongue on your skin. She makes you feel like the only person in the world, the way she looks at you, the way she holds you.

“This is Gojo’s shirt, isn’t it?” Mei Mei asks abruptly, tugging at the black material.

You don’t reply, too enchanted by the way her fangs protrude, nearly piercing her own bottom lip.

“Answer me, princess,” she coaxes you, finger pressed against your cheek.

“N-no, it’s my shirt. He… he stole it from me and I-I just got it back,” you breathe. Her lips curl into another smirk.

“That Gojo Satoru. Always taking what isn’t his.”

“I sure hope you’re not referring to me.”

Mei Mei scoffs. “Do you? Belong to him?”

“What do you think? I belong to no one,” you shrug, “Now, are you going to bite me? You want my blood or what?”

You draw your eyes up to meet Mei Mei’s gaze, and her icy hands are on your waist before you can reach for her.

In between refilling the stock at the Apothecary, visiting (bothering) Shoko at her shop, and visiting the forest to train and perfect your magical abilities, you think about Mei Mei and Gojo often. Just thinking about them, whether separately or together, leaves you a little hazy and wanting.

Gojo refers to you as his angel, while Mei Mei refers to you as her princess. You are neither, but they make you feel like you could be.

Shoko thinks you’re playing with fire and she chastises you every time you visit her shop. You only shrug, telling her that you know exactly what you’re doing-

“You need to be careful with those vampires. Do you even know anything about them?” Shoko lectures you, not for the first time.

“Yes, we are friends you know-” you roll your eyes.

“Friends? Friends who hook up every so often?” she shoots back at you.

“A girl can hope, can’t she?” you grin, “I told you, I’m gonna fuck them both before-”

“Ugh, don’t finish that sentence. You’re just as slutty as them.”

“Thanks, Shoko. Knew I could always count on you.”

You’re lost in your thoughts as you wander through the forest, your fingers gliding through the air as your magic guides you through the maze of trees. Fairies buzz around you, giggling up in the trees. You can even hear a nymph or two singing to themselves in a pond.

Your senses are elevated here. You hear everything, and nothing.

This section of the forest is one of your favorites, it’s hidden and the trees curl together in a way that makes you feel delightfully one with nature. It’s one of the many spots in this forest that you allow your magic to run free, uncaged by your blood.

But it seems that your usual spot is occupied.

“Oh,” you say rather loudly, dropping your bag to the grass with a soft thump, “Nobody ever comes here usually.”

“Guess your secret spot isn’t so hidden anymore, huh?” Mei Mei says, turning her powder blue braid over her shoulder. The dimming sunlight glistens on her hair and you don’t bother looking away from the lowcut of her navy blue blouse.

“I guess not.”

***

The sound of the birds chirping, the bees buzzing and of the nearby babbling brook are drowned out by the sounds of your loud moans and Mei Mei’s soft words.

The soft settling of the sun against Mei Mei’s glistening skin leaves you gasping for air, for just a little more. You refuse to let your eyes close, instead focusing your gaze on her, in her commanding radiance.

Her skin glows in the sunlight, despite the many myths about vampires.

Mei Mei’s fingers are ice cold, a soothing sensation against the warmth of your flushed chest. Her thumb brushes against your nipple as your back arches. She rolls her hips into yours as her clit catches yours, her shaky breaths matching yours. She dips her head to yours for a sharp, searing kiss, her fangs drawing blood. Her hand wraps around your neck loosely with a slight smirk and you think you see stars from how hard you cum from such a simple action.

“Oh,” Mei Mei smirks wider, “Gojo was right.”

“W-what?”

“He said you’d like this,” she grins, fangs on display as she squeezes your neck a tad tighter. Your magic pushes against her but she squeezes harder to bypass you. Her nails are sharp against your skin, just how you like it. Mei Mei likes seeing you like this, panting and whining for her touch. For her kiss, for the slow grind of her clit against yours. For more, more, more.

Your only reply is a breathy moan escaping your lips.

****

This corner of the forest was also another one of your favorites- it was the spot where your favorite cherry blossoms and camellias flourish in the moonlight. It was a small pocket of the forest, tucked away by the maple and beech trees, only allowing for a few moonbeams to wash over the soft greenery.

You come here to get away from the bustle and noise of the city, and luckily it’s not terribly far from the city. It’s your quiet time, time for you to be one with the earth. As a witch, you’ve always been in tune to the changing tides of mother nature. Being in this forest for even just a few hours revitalizes you, gets the little sparks of magic pent up under your skin flowing through your blood once more.

Purple and gold sparks come out of your fingertips as you let your magic out of its confines. You’re looking for some key ingredients that are found only in this forest to add to your shop and for your own personal collection. Namely, you’re in search of dragon’s breath and orange sun spores. You are hoping that your magic will lead you to what you’re seeking...

You wonder if it’s the forest’s magic or mere coincidence that you are led towards a clearing where the moonlight shines brightly against the grass. And against the plush green forest floor lies Gojo Satoru in all of his nearly translucent glory.

Nearly dropping your basket, he turns his head to meet your eyes with a grin.

“Hey,” he says, “You come here often?”

“Yeah, actually, I do. Do you come here often?” you ask, sitting in the patch of grass next to him. For whatever reason, the man is shirtless and you don’t bother to try to mask the spike of your heart rate. “You lie on forest floors half naked often?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” he mimics you, looking at you from above his unnecessary sunglasses, “I live in this forest, you know. And I’m trying to get tan.”

“Tan? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Aren’t you a witch? Didn’t you know that vampires tan in the moonlight?”

“O-oh,” you shrug sheepishly, “You just had to tan in the middle of the night in my forest?”

“Your forest? I’m the one that lives here.”

Gojo pats the space next to him, gesturing for you to lay next to him. You’re close enough to him that if he was human, you’d feel the heat emanating from him. Has he always been so long?

You clear your throat.

It’s quiet between the spaces that fill the air between you and Gojo. You turn your head, only to find him already looking at you. Those ridiculously, stunning cerulean eyes already trained on you. There is an eerie breeze that filters past your ears, one that you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

His eyes flash a brazen burgundy for only a moment. Or so you think. These moments with him are few and far between- you wonder if you should pinch yourself. But you decide against it because he’s looking at you with that near arrogant quirk of his lips, to which you roll your eyes.

“Didn’t anyone tell you,” Gojo murmurs, his voice low with the whistle of the wind, “It’s dangerous to be out here at night. Vampires live here, you know.”

“If they’re anything like you, I don’t have anything to worry about,” you scoff, “Besides-” you twirl your fingers as vines raise from the earth and wrap around his ankles and wrists, “I’m a witch. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

“Oh, I’m very well aware,” he replies, eyes twinkling brighter than the stars above his head. Your legs knock against his, but this time, you don’t move away from the simple touch. He’s sinewy and strong, you deduce as you watch him stretch his hands over his hands. With long fingers, he plays with the grass next to him. A soft exhale of a laugh escapes your lips when he asks you what you’re doing in the forest so late at night-

“If you wanted to see me, you coulda called, angel.”

Your heart sputters once more in your chest, and you hope he can’t tell. He asks you again what you’re doing out in the forest, and you tell him that you’re searching for ingredients to restock in your shop. Gojo gives you some recommendations of where to find varying forms of sun spores, but truthfully, your gaze is fixated on the way his lips move. How ridiculously shiny his lips are and how his voice sounds muted in your ears. Smooth and low, calmly licking a trail down your spine.

Your voice catches in your throat. You think he’s asking you a question, but all you can consider is how much closer he’s gotten to you. Gojo Satoru is nearly under you, his hand hovering dangerously close to your thigh.

The wind rustles his silvery hair and your lips are on his. He tastes like cherries and wine and his muscles flex under your tight grip. Gojo breathes heavily into your mouth, hands wandering and squeezing your hips. Your own breathes are staggered and pitchy, trying to drink him in as much as you can before the moment ends-

Gojo can feel your magic poking and prodding with his own vampire magic. He’s dizzy, only able to focus on you and the sweet sound of his name on your tongue.

He wonders if this is how Mei Mei felt.

Your belly flips and your pussy flutters when you feel Gojo’s fangs beginning to elongate and prick at your bottom lip.

“B-bite me,” you say breathlessly, frantically, in a frenzy. Your heart is slamming in your chest, head filled with nothing but thoughts of him. “Fuck, bite me, Satoru-”

He nips your bottom lip gently, barely enough to draw blood. But it’s enough for you to moan wantonly into the night and rut your hips into his. More, more, more- you want to feel and see everything-

Burgundy flashes in your periphery, colliding with the celestial pools of ocean blue of Gojo’s eyes. He pulls away with swollen, puffy pink lips that turn into a salacious smirk.

“I guess you’re....thirsty, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and push him to the forest floor with a soft thud. Thirsty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Gojo Satoru is the worst texter you know. His replies come hours after your initial text, often times after midnight. His texts are either dry, responses with a simple ‘OK’ or they are lewd and flirtatious enough to make your cheeks heat up. You suppose you can’t blame him for the oddly timed texts, considering his status in the vampire world.

There is often no in between, but he is grating on your nerves tonight because he’s given you no clear indication of what to wear to dinner. He had only texted you earlier this afternoon humbly requesting your presence to join him at dinner.

With no indication of what to wear or where you would be going. All he had stated was to be ready by 6:30 PM, sharp.

To which you had complained to Nanami Kento immediately. He had the unfortunate fortune of being the sole person in the Apothecary when Gojo had texted you-

“What are you getting so worked up for?” Nanami scoffs, “It’s just Gojo-” He sees your face shift minimally with the slight increase in your heart rate, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You decide on wearing a long, fitted black dress with a sweetheart neckline and black heels paired with a gold necklace. It’s a classic outfit, and knowing Gojo and his lavish taste, he’d have made reservations somewhere fancy.

Applying the last bit of your red lipstick, you smack your lips while facing the mirror and twirl your fingers to spray some magic to give your hair some volume. You glance at your phone and wait for the inevitable phone call from Gojo Satoru announcing his arrival to your home.

Instead of a phone call or a text, you’re greeted with obnoxious honking coming from his sleek, matte black car. You’re not entirely sure where he keeps his cars, considering that he lives in the forest. What is the need for a vampire to have a car anyway?

You leave your train of thought at the door as Gojo’s handsome features come into view. He’s leaning against his car, his blue dress shirt pulled tastefully tightly across his chest. And of course, a hint of a smirk on his lips (along with a hint of his fangs, you think).

He greets you with a kiss to the cheek. “You look good enough to eat,” Gojo nearly purrs into the shell of your ear.

“Maybe you’ll get to have dessert later,” you murmur, only causing his smirk to widen.

***

The taste of chocolate cherry ice cream is sweet on your tongue as Gojo hums into your mouth. Your eyes are dimmed as you watch his movements, his hands sliding up your waist and pulling the material of the dress even further up. The driver’s seat of the car is pushed all the way back, allowing for you to sit in his lap comfortably.

Dinner had been lovely- the food, the company, the specific way the dimmed lights hit Gojo’s eyes… It had been the perfect concoction for you to end up like this in his car. With your legs straddling his hips and you, rocking against him. He’s looking at you the same way he had looked at you during dinner, as if he wanted to devour you.

Satoru could hardly keep his hands off of you during dinner, the fire in his undead eyes burning with every gaze your way. His hand had been on your thigh for most of the night as you both ate and spoke in quiet tones. He had spoiled you with your favorite wine and by the end of dinner, you were already beginning to feel a familiar warmth pooling in your belly.

It didn’t help that his sweater was fitted to his frame, rings adorning his lithe fingers and a necklace peeking from under his sweater. You wanted to pounce on him from the moment you saw him.

The forest around you seems to fade away, your eyes trained on Satoru's face. His lips are slightly parted as he holds you tight. He’s a vision in every sense of the word, silvery hair sticking to his forehead and his electric eyes shining… If he was human, you would be certain that his chest would be flushed.

Instead, his skin is cold to the touch, but he makes you feel so hot. You’ve already pulled his sweater off and pressed heated kisses to the column of his neck- and honestly, who has a neck that’s this attractive? Him, apparently.

His cock is heavy, weeping against your panties. You clench around nothing, about to complain loudly before he pushes your panties to the side.

“What are you whining for?” he murmurs, cradling your face “I’m boutta give you what you’re whining for, baby-” And he pushes inside your warm, wet walls, reminding himself not to cum in two strokes. He just might, considering the way you’re squeezing him tight and the way your tits spill from your dress.

When it comes to you, Gojo Satoru is a goner. Mei Mei’s smug face flits through his mind for a moment. He pushes it to the side, instead focusing on your soft moans.

“Feels good, Satoru,” you mumble. He snakes a hand up your chest to squeeze your tits and rolls his thumb over your nipple. There is nothing sweeter than the slow sigh that spills from your lips.

“Yeah? Feels good?” Satoru says softly. You nod, leaning into his touch when he cradles your warm cheek. “So pretty, gonna make you feel good, angel.”

You lean forward, wordlessly asking for a kiss. He slots his lips over yours as he widens your legs, his cock at a deeper angle than before. You tremble in his hold, but he shushes you by gently sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Your chest heaves, your magic beginning to seep out your skin. Satoru can feel it curling, swirling, enveloping over him, dizziness clouding his mind. Last time he had you in his arms like this, he caught the beginnings of your magic beginning to poke and prod at him. But it’s never spilled out in this way. He figures it means you’re either comfortable with him or you’re really, very aroused. Or both.

Pulling away first to catch a breath, you shift your hips slightly and press your hands to his chest.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” Satoru groans, his hips stuttering and he pulls you closer to him so your chest is plastered against his.

“Not looking at you like anything,” you mumble, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. He pulls out quickly, only to push his cock into you once more. Your warm, wet pussy flutters around his cock as your magic swirls around his skin. He thinks he might do something like tell you that he loves you. Instead he’ll settle for-

“Fuck, I love this pussy,” he moans lewdly into your chest, lips swirling around your nipple, “Love this magical, witchy pussy-”

You smack his chest and he smacks your ass in return.

***

Mei Mei knows something akin to tomfoolery is in the air the moment she gets off of her motorcycle and turns her head to the right. She’s absolutely correct, because she sees one Gojo Satoru emerging from his obnoxious vehicle with the smuggest smirk on his face.

Which quickly slips off when he sees Mei Mei standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“What the hell are you doing here-”

“Me? What about you?”

“Oh, don’t lie-”

“You brought out the black lipstick. Who are you trying to fuck tonight-”

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Mei Mei mutters. She looks upwards with narrowed eyes at the Astral Apothecary where your apartment is. She catches a glimpse of movement of the navy blue and golden accents curtains in the upper window, but says nothing.

“Did she invite you here?” Gojo gasps.

“It sure looks like it,” Mei Mei replies dryly.

“But she invited me here first…” he nearly whines, and Mei Mei is struck with the urge to shove him into the nearest tree.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she says. Just as she is about to text you, you open the side door to your shop, where there is a spiral staircase leading up to your apartment that hovers over the shop.

“Hello,” you say mildly, as if you hadn’t just invited both of them to your apartment for dinner and drinks. Without telling the other. Gojo looks at Mei Mei blankly.

You wordlessly gesture for them to follow you up the stairs, twirling your fingers without looking over your shoulder to close and lock the door behind you. Mei Mei and Gojo follow you up skeptically.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you say, pointing at your front door. It’s a pretty sky blue color, and the door unlocks and turns with the movement of your index finger. The warm scent of honey and vanilla wafts into Gojo and Mei Mei’s noses. Neither of them are surprised- it smells just like you.

“Cozy,” Gojo notes, looking around your home. “Have you been here before, Mei Mei?” The walls of your living room are a welcoming green color, with a dark green velvet couch in the center. It’s all very you- from the photo frames that hang on the wall, to the flowers on display at your windowsill, and the patterned rug that sits underneath your homemade coffee table.

A bottle of wine uncorks itself and pours itself into three separate glasses, while a wooden spoon stirs a steaming pot on the stove.

“No. You?”

“Nope.”

They both look at you expectantly. Maybe, objectively, you should feel a little more fearful under the piercing gaze of two powerful vampires. Instead, it only makes your adrenaline spike in excitement.

“I heard about your bet, you know,” you say breezily, “Neither of you are quite as secretive as you think you are. For a pair of powerful vampires from powerful clans, you’re both quite… clumsy.”

Genuine surprise colors their faces, and you laugh. How ironic.

“I win, though,” your smile is blinding, eyes dripping with arousal and adoration, “After all, we both know how this is going to go. Don’t we?”

“Hang on,” Gojo sputters, “You knew? And you invited us here? Together?”

“Close your mouth, Satoru. You look like a fucking fish,” Mei Mei scoffs, “And you. You knew? And you’re not…upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset when this is what I’ve wanted?”

Mei Mei’s lips pull back, her fangs on display. Purple and green sparkles flit around your head, jumping onto Gojo’s shoulders and then her own. “Well, you should’ve just said so, princess.”

“As I said… I win.”

***